Walker

by Michael Langlois

  “My name is Iyah. I just met you yesterday, so even you should still be able to remember it.” Her accent was more pronounced today, probably because she was angry, all liquid Mediterranean vowels and hard Germanic consonants.

  “Oh I’m sorry, was I rude? Should I have tried to stab you with something first?”

  Iyah narrowed her eyes and reached into her sleeve.

  Saul put a hand on her arm. “Whoa! Okay, that’s enough. Sit down, the two of you.”

  Daniel sat down reluctantly. Only then did she pull out a chair and join them.

  “This is just great, Saul. You are a lying sack of shit, you know that? Quick, put on that fucking manacle before the great she-beast guts you! Thank you very much for that. What, you couldn’t wait for me to make up my mind? Worried that I might turn you down, so you decided to con me into it?”

  “I told him it was stupid,” Iyah chimed in.

  Saul held his hands out in front of him. “Daniel—”

  “No. I’m tired of your apologist bullshit. No matter what happens, you always have some excuse as to how it’s good for me. You could probably stab me with your fork right now and convince me to thank the Guild for it. Screw the both of you, I’m going to find the Doc.”

  Saul watched Daniel walk away. Iyah ate her breakfast, unconcerned.

  Daniel had a good solid hour of being lost to hone his anger. He quickly discovered that he was more likely to get an earful of arrogant do-you-know-who-I-am lectures than any useful directions if he approached the elaborately robed figures that seemed to be in charge. So he stuck to the youngest or most strangely dressed people he could find, and eventually found the right office.

  A moment after knocking, the door opened up and Dr. Wolternel drew him inside. He would have appeared nicely professorial in his cardigan and slacks, if not for the fact that he looked like he had slept in them on a dare. Daniel was surprised to see a tumbler of whiskey already in his hand.

  “Good morning, Daniel, nice to see you.” Bruce ushered him inside and drifted over by his desk. “Care for a drink?”

  “No thanks, I haven’t really been a morning drinker since school, and even then it was more of an emergency medical treatment than anything else, if you know what I mean.” Bruce’s lips quirked briefly at that as he sat on the edge of his desk.

  “So,” continued Daniel warily, “is this a good time?”

  “Oh, sure. Sure.” Bruce put his drink down and ran his hands through his hair, which, as a testament to its current state, did not become any messier. “Just worked all night, you know how that is.”

  “Yeah, that sucks. So, exactly what is it that you do, Doc?”

  Bruce gave the ceiling a significant look, then said, “Mostly I argue with the other researchers about the nature of the Veil. For example, Baron von Dark Ages across the hall is laboring under the misapprehension that the Veil is some mystical abyss that separates Kollar, the paradise of the worthy, and Stregna, his equivalent of hell, from the world of mortals. He uses astrological charts and religious jargon to attempt to correlate what we observe to his mythology, when clearly what we’re seeing is classic quantum superpositioning of the various eigenstates of each discovered universe’s observable values, as predicted by Everett’s Many World Interpretation of Parallel Worlds.”

  As he spoke, Bruce jabbed a finger at a whiteboard on one wall crammed with the cryptic language and formulae of quantum mechanics.

  “Yeah,” said Daniel, “you really have to watch out for those guys with the jargon and the charts. They’ll get you every time.”

  Bruce smiled ruefully. “Well, Professor Vernil does have a point that MWI states that no information can cross between universes, so clearly our observations fit more closely with M-Theory dealing with dimensional overlap, but it still makes a damn sight more sense than his voodoo! Unfortunately, our experiments have a disturbing parity when it comes to testing. Observation affects information and structure at a quantum level, but the Veil seems to behave according to quantum mechanics at a macro level, unless of course we’re interacting at a different scale and we just can’t perceive it. After all, perception of scale is useless without a reference. If you look a picture of a rock in space by itself, who’s to say if it’s a pebble or a planet?”

  “So you were up all night fighting about who’s right?”

  “I’m right!” Bruce stopped and smiled sheepishly. “But then, as a priest of my chosen doctrine of physics, I guess I would say that. I am right, though, no matter what that jackass says. But no, I was up dealing with more practical matters. On the applied side of my research, I help build Veil energy conducting devices, or VECs. Like the Arc you’re wearing. Among other things.”

  His tone didn’t change as he said ‘things,’ but he did look aside, as if ashamed. “That’s what I was doing last night. One of my fine colleagues figured out how to double the output from the VEC resistor in the Arc and the council wanted a prototype as soon as possible. I don’t really think more bleed through is necessary, it’s already incapacitating enough in my opinion, but I don’t call the shots.” Bruce picked up his glass and finished it off.

  Daniel rubbed at the skin of his wrist around the Arc where it was still tender from the night before. “That’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about, if you have some time.” Daniel pointed upwards and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Well,” said Bruce with an exaggerated nod, “I have some work to do in the lab, perhaps you can lend me a hand while we chat, if you don’t mind?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Daniel allowed himself to be led down into the basement where the décor turned more utilitarian, swapping wood paneled luxury for powder blue tiles and linoleum. There were stripes painted on the floor that occasionally branched off down different corridors, but there were no signs on the walls explaining which stripe went where.

  Even the closed doors that they passed were either unmarked, or labeled with entirely unhelpful names like “BTMH LAB 3” or “KML PROCESS ARRAY — NO ENTRY.”

  They eventually arrived at a set of unmarked double doors where Dr. Wolternel pressed an ID badge to the black plastic faceplate next to the door. He waited for the green light and the click of the door’s locking solenoid in a ritual that Daniel had performed every working day of his life. The familiar action seemed wildly out of place here. They stepped inside.

  The lab looked much like any university research laboratory, messy in a purposeful way, with lots of hand assembled machinery sprouting wires, whiteboards crowded with notes and drawings, layered with mostly erased ghosts of past scribbling, and the occasional dirty coffee cup. The room was filled with the low, steady drone of active machinery, like a boiler room.

  “They can’t hear us in here. Not only does the ambient equipment noise make it hard for the microphones to pick up quiet sounds, but I’ve also installed some additional noise generators that throw out random frequency stuff that makes it impossible to filter out.”

  Bruce seated himself on a stool and indicated that Daniel should pull one up as well. “Now, you must have some questions about yesterday’s dramatics.”

  As he thought about earlier events, Daniel suddenly didn’t feel like sitting down. He felt like waving his arms around and yelling, but that would seem rude and deliberately contrary, so he sat anyway. He still felt embarrassed for stomping out of the cafeteria earlier like some kind of teenage drama queen, so he figured it was a good idea to at least try and act his age.

  “I have to be honest with you, Doc. I feel like I’m being jerked around here, and it’s really pissing me off. On the one hand I have you telling me to keep this new world a secret and that I’m a prisoner. And to be fair, I did try to go home, and I got slapped down pretty hard, so you were right about that.

  “On the other hand, I have Saul saying that all of this is for my own protection, and painting a rosy picture of the whole thing, telling me everything that’s happened so far is for my own good, and that the Gui
ld is only looking out for me. And to tell the truth, he sounds pretty convincing. I completely bought into it this morning. At least until I found out that he tricked me into putting this damn Arc on my wrist in the first place, so now I’m back to square one. I don’t know if you’re being straight with me either, but I’m going to give you a shot. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll start by telling you that Saul is a good man.” Daniel snorted.

  “No, hear me out. I’ve known Saul for more years than I care to remember, and as much as we can be, we’re friends. We have similar views of the Guild, we’re both employed doing some things that are distasteful to us, and we both do them anyway. Where we differ is in our outlook.

  “I, and some other like-minded people, want to escape. We’re patient, seeking quietly but persistently, and we’re willing to risk everything should an opportunity make itself known. Saul, on the other hand, doesn’t want to risk anyone getting hurt, as if being a prisoner weren’t an injury in itself. He feels very strongly about it, so if he were to find out that I had asked for your aid, he would be very angry with me for putting all of us at risk.”

  “It’s not his decision to make,” said Daniel. “He basically tricked me into putting this thing on my arm, never mentioning what it could do, or that it was permanent.”

  Bruce smiled. “His recruiting tactics are legendary. Do you mind telling me what happened?”

  “He was telling me how I was in danger from people who would do anything to get a hold of a Walker, and then right on cue, this woman charges in and comes after me with a knife. She’s very persuasive, so I jump into the trap just as fast as I can. It sounds so obvious now, but at the time it was pretty damned convincing.”

  “Ah. That’s a good one, simple and direct. I like it better than the ‘you are the chosen one’ angle he sometimes uses. At least you were chased into the trap, instead of being led there by vanity,” said Bruce, grinning.

  Daniel gave a wry grin back, despite himself. “I guess so. I still feel stupid for falling for the whole thing. What was all the trickery for anyway? I would have gone willingly in the end since he never mentioned that I’d be a prisoner.”

  “It’s not really the kind of thing you want to leave to chance. Walkers are very rare to begin with, and the Guild absolutely depends on them for its operations. Add the fact that you were an unknown quantity and may have discovered a new world, and you can see why he didn’t want to take any chances with getting an Arc on you. Up until that moment, you could have just stepped across to your new world and been lost to them forever. Or worse, gotten yourself killed trying to Walk again without training.”

  Daniel sat back in his chair and thought for a minute. “I gather that this whole new world thing is a pretty big deal.”

  “Oh, yes. A new world hasn’t been discovered for over a hundred years. An entire new arena to dominate and exploit would be a huge coup for the Guild. It could even make you a very important and very rich man, if you were the sort to trade the well being of others for your own.”

  Daniel laughed. “Don’t hold back, Doc, tell me how you really feel.”

  “I’m serious, Daniel. The Guild controls every major government of every known world. They use methods of the worst sort to get and maintain that control. In a very real sense, the Guild runs everything, everywhere. Now, Saul will be the first to tell you that they do good with that power, and that whatever evil they may do is unavoidable. The usual excuse is that without control, the Guild is powerless to help people, and while that may be true to some extent, I think that if given the choice, people would rather be free and take the risks that come with it.”

  “I agree with you on that score, Doc. In fact, I could use some of that freedom myself. How do I get this damn shackle off my arm?”

  “That’s a little complicated. As I mentioned, there’s a group of us who are also interested in our freedom. But we have a few problems to solve first. Even if we could get the Arcs off, where would we go? Every world is controlled by the Guild. It would be very difficult indeed to escape them forever on a world where every police agency in every country or domain is looking for you, not to mention avoiding the Guild’s own Trackers, of whom Saul is the leader.”

  Bruce paused and looked at Daniel earnestly. “However, if you really have found a new world, and if we can keep the Guild from getting to it, and if we can all manage to get there, then we would at last be free.”

  “That’s not very reassuring, Doc. I’ve only made the trip once, and I’m really not sure how I did it. It was a lot different than when I Walked to my apartment, where I could get a fix on things I knew like the back of my hand. When I went to this place, I did it more on instinct than anything else.”

  “I know, that’s why it’s crucial that you go through Walker training without revealing your true feelings about the Guild. This is the only place in all the known worlds where such skills are taught. Once you learn all you can, then we can proceed to the next step.”

  Bruce rubbed his bloodshot eyes and yawned. “I still have to convince the others that you can be trusted, and then we need a plan to get everyone to the new world. That will be tricky, since the Arcs are also tracking devices. We don’t dare take them with us to the new world, but removing them will summon the guards, even if we can solve the problem of actually getting them off without killing anyone. That means that we will have to get rid of them safely and all at once, then make the crossing very quickly. But that’s my problem. You just learn to be the best Walker you can and I’ll work on the rest with the others.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Thank you. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’re very grateful that you’re with us. We’ve been waiting for some kind of chance to escape for a long time now.”

  “No pressure, huh?”

  Doctor Wolternel smiled and patted his hand. “Well, maybe a little.”

  6

  Daniel eventually found his way back to his apartment, a feat that was both astounding and gratifying. He used his Arc to unlock the door and entered his new, and with any luck temporary, home.

  The close and comforting smell of wood and leather that permeated his apartment soothed his nerves. He wanted to say that it reminded him of a majestic library of the kind that you read about but never get to visit, but the truth was that it really reminded him of an expensive furniture store. Nice, but sterile. After a few minutes of aimless procrastination, Daniel figured that he had better start trying to make sense of the sprawling campus since he was stuck here for the time being.

  He sat down on the floor in the middle of the living room and dumped out his entire backpack to finish sorting through it. Not much time at all was required to change him from a curious explorer into a bewildered human island surrounded by a vast and colorful paper sea. He was looking at a complicated fold out map of what appeared to be either a multi-tiered city or some kind of three dimensional subway system when there came a knock at the door.

  “Go away, Saul!” he shouted, not bothering to get up.

  Iyah’s melodic voice came through the door. “Open up Daniel, we’ve come to apologize! And we brought presents.”

  “And lunch!” added Saul. “Subs from Canlon’s in the square. Best meatball parm you’ve ever had outside of New Jersey.”

  Daniel sighed, disengaged himself from his mess-in-progress, and opened the door. Saul and Iyah trooped in, arms full.

  “Hey, Danny Boy! Wait till you see what we brought you!” said Saul, dumping packages on the couch while Iyah began unloading butcher paper clad treasures onto the kitchen table.

  “Is it a nice ankle shackle to go with the one on my wrist?”

  “Even better, my bitter protégé, we managed to get you some senior level gear from the armory. Normally, you have to be promoted up the Walker or Channeler ranks to get this stuff, but I pulled a few strings with the Quartermaster and voilà!”

  Saul opened the first package and unr
olled the contents with a flourish to reveal a set of what appeared to be thin, smoke-colored long johns. He laid them out on the couch. Next to them, he set down the contents of the other package—a rectangular wooden case with a gold clasp.

  “Wow, pajamas and a cigar box. Thanks.”

  “These particular pajamas are made from the refined silk of a spider native to the Ormin jungle on Alde. They nest in huge swarms in the canopy and weave these enormous clouds of webs right over the top of the trees. The strands are so strong that a man can walk right across the webbing and not fall through, providing he can figure out a way not to get stuck and then eaten by the thousands of extremely poisonous and angry spiders that live there. There’s a tribe of bushmen called the Maskeen in the jungle that actually catches the things and milks them for the silk. If there’s a way to make a living that’s worse than squeezing pissed off spiders the size of a gopher, I don’t want to hear about it.”

  As usual, Daniel couldn’t decide if Saul was telling the truth, or merely being colorful.

  “Anyway, this stuff is all the rage with people who aren’t into getting punched full of holes. Now, without the proper backing plates, getting shot or stabbed is still going to hurt like hell, and you’ll likely still get some split skin and a nice bruise, but nothing is going to go through this stuff. It’ll make the difference between a broken rib and an exit wound. It’s part of the Walker expedition kit, and damned expensive, so don’t lose it.”

  Next, Saul flipped open the wooden case. Inside rested a sleek double-edged dagger and a plain, but finely crafted wrist sheath. Except for being new, it was an exact copy of the one he had been threatened with the previous day.

  “This,” said Iyah, stepping over to the couch and around as much of Daniel’s baby landfill as possible, “is an Urum blade. It is an honor to possess one, and I will tell you that I don’t like the fact that Saul is giving it to you, who have not earned it. He will do as he pleases, as you’ve no doubt noticed, so I won’t stand in his way. However, it is my opinion that he simply feels guilty for duping you. Where I come from, the fault lies with the duped for being stupid. In any case, I ask that you treat this with respect.”