Tales of the Dissolutionverse Box Set

by William C. Tracy

  “Oof.” Rey blinked away the afterimage of the eruption. When he lifted a hand, it shook slightly. More of his notes lost. He’d sleep well tonight.

  Maybe he could just put the crate back against the hole—that would keep the little thing out for a time, at least. He bent down and peered into the hole. It was deeper than he expected, and somewhere in the back, something glassy caught a glint of reflection. A faint chittering echoed from inside the hole.

  “So yer not far off, are yer?” The crate would only work for a few minutes against the determined creature. Were those claw marks on the bricks? So, even if he boarded the hole over, he had a feeling it would be back in a few days.

  Rey thought. What was making the System go unstable? He looked toward the clanking machine, listened to the confusion of melodies arranged over each other. Of course. He hadn’t factored in how the machine processed incoming music. The wall was close enough for the machine to strip the notes guiding his barrier of energy. Mayhaps I could spend a few more notes, preventin’ the Systems from overlapping. If it didn’t work, he’d lose even more notes, but if it did, he be finished up with the majus’ little task before mealtime.

  Once more, he lugged the increasingly battered crate up the stairs, threw it, and took the notes describing its energy. This time, he knew how to form the measures, how to smooth out the tempo. He took more notes from the core of his being, formed them into a solid wall of sixteenth notes, a repeating motif around his System. I hope by the Greatmother this works. If no, the majus might find me passed out down here, if he even remembers to take a break from his calculatin’.

  Back behind the machine, Rey reached down, taking the anchor note from the song that made up his being. This time, when he pressed his fingertip to the floor in front of the hole, the music stolen from the crate attached—raw and vibrating like a plucked string—to his note. It formed a ward of pure energy blocking the hole, suitable to shock that little furry critter, should it decide to show its face. It would last for quite some time.

  Rey dusted his hands and went back upstairs.

  * * *

  It was another lightening or so before he went back to the majus. His hands were still shaking and he felt as if he had run the length of the Imperium. He slipped back into the apartment for a quick wash and a nap, which helped him recover a bit.

  When he dared the living room again, confident he wouldn’t fall over if he walked too fast, the majus was standing in front of the communication System tucked into one corner of the room, scaly hands propped on his hips. A hazy Etanela face with a frizzy halo of hair was barely visible in the projection.

  “This situation, Speaker, it is one my apprentice is currently investigating... Yes, I realize that last time… No, of course not. That, it was an isolated... Certainly, Speaker.”

  Rey froze. Something was wrong. Was that Speaker Humbano herself, come to drag him from the maji? He started to turn away. Mayhaps I can pack and be gone before anyone notices.

  “Reyhorer—there you are.” Rey’s shoulders tensed, and he pivoted, as if on a spit. “This creature, I was thinking you were getting rid of it, not inviting it to take up residence.” Majus Kheena was staring at him now, the communications System dark behind his cloak.

  Rey tried to shrink into the floor. “I did fix it, sir, meanin’ I thought I did. That wasn’t Speaker Humbano, was it?”

  The majus’ scaly brows drew down in confusion for a moment. “Humbano? No, this was not her, but one of the junior Speakers. A row of lights, they just went out during an Assembly session. An annoyance, but I am thinking one with the same core problem. What did you do, in the cellar?”

  “Then she’s not going to throw me off the maji?”

  “What are you speaking of? What of the distribution machine?” the majus had his arms crossed now—never a good sign.

  “It’s…er…it’s all clammed up, Majus Kheena,” Rey said. “That wee beasty’s not to get to yer machine again.”

  “Then why is a Speaker calling me directly?” Majus Kheena waved a sheet of parchments, forgotten in one hand. “This, I think, has more to—”

  The light overhead winked out, then back on, reflecting off the majus’ dark green scales.

  “You were supposed to create a deterrent.”

  Rey slumped. “I thought I did, sir. I made a System meself, to block ‘im.”

  Majus Kheena strode forward, his dark cloak swirling around him. No word of praise for Rey’s first success at a permanent System. His mentor’s scaled lips compressed. “Then this field, it is already gone. These creatures, they are not so easy to get rid of. I set you a task, and I expect you to complete it. A skilled majus, they will know how to adjust said notes for the properties required. Find a lasting solution.”

  Rey scratched at one of his ears. He felt the tips curling in confusion. “So, yer want me to kill it then?”

  Majus Kheena hissed something inaudible. Rey could have sworn the majus muttered something about his own mentor. “No. Even with this damage to our infrastructure, it does not mean we should exterminate rare creatures, favored by the Symphony. Even if this were some sabotage of the Imperium’s networks, I would not allow you to kill such a unique animal. The object of this lesson, it is the preservation of the Imperium’s ease of living; a demonstration of how we subsist along with our fellows. Off with you, and do not make me do this myself. I do not want to hear from a Speaker again.” He made a shooing motion.

  Rey turned back to the network of halls leading to the cellar. Unique creatures, favored by the Symphony? Sabotage? What was this critter? Should have stayed on Sureri, pulling spines out of the garden.

  * * *

  When he got to bottom of the cellar steps, Rey could sense his barrier was gone.

  “Where’d the blamed thing go to?” Did I set the System wrong? But no, he had felt the connection between his note and the surrounding Symphony that last time. The barrier should have stayed there for ten-days before degrading.

  Chirrup?

  Rey spun, almost tripping down the last stair. He caught a flash of something brown and white. “Did you have sommat to do with this, yer little bugger?”

  Cherrp. Krr?

  He could see it, peering out from behind the clanking conduit, its call an interruption to the constant repetition of the machine. It shared the long snout and scales of the scurries that ate the bluefins around his parents’ garden, but the rest of it was furred and sleek, made to dart in and out of holes in the infrastructure. It looked bigger than the last time. Could it have grown in a couple lightenings?

  Krup? It unfolded two sets of flared—ears? Yes, he could see the earholes beneath. The tips had tufts of white fur.

  “Ach, yer cute, then, are yer?” Though Rey had heard his standards didn’t often match up with the rest of the ten species. The critter cocked its head to one side.

  Cherrup. Krup? The wide mouth opened as it made noise, revealing lines of barbed suction cups instead of teeth. So that was how it had been hanging off the machine.

  “Shew, then, yer bugger.” Rey flapped at it with his hands. It didn’t move. “Right. Sorry about this, but yer cannae stay here, suckin’ the notes out o’ this clanker.” He gestured to the conduit machine, gears grinding along contentedly. The critter looked at the machine, then back at him. “How did yer get rid of me System, in any case?” He could tell more of his notes were missing. The nap helped, but he felt a weariness as if he hadn’t slept much the night before.

  Rey let the Symphony overtake him. There was energy all around, though concentrated in the machine, the mass of jangling notes overpowering anything else in the room. “The majus surely won’t mind if I nip a phrase or so out o’ the flow.” Not enough to shut down any more lights, hopefully. He took a measure of notes from his song as well, each one irreplaceable, grown from his own experiences, and used it to bridge one of the higher register themes that flowed through the conduit. Music transferred out
side the machine.

  “This may sting, but yer havta go,” Rey said. He extended a finger to the critter, still watching him, and used a few more notes to bridge the music directly to the creature. An arc of static leapt from his finger, not enough to kill it.

  Instead, the creature shook itself, then opened its suckered mouth wide. Rey’s notes disappeared with the phrase, and the critter cooed. Feathers suddenly curled around its head, growing rapidly.

  Rey staggered back, the notes jerked from him to feed that little beast. “Yer are eatin’ the music, that’s why you were hanging around here. Yer got a taste for the notes of the Symphony.”

  The furry scaled thing crept a few steps closer, its ears unfurling again. Looking for a more food. It didn’t look as cute any longer.

  Cherp Cherp. The call was insistent, demanding, and its eyes opened wide. There was a…gap in the Symphony now, a suction as if the notes were gravitating toward the creature.

  “Ach—no yer don’t.” Rey let the melodies in the room flow through him. Could he use his notes to tether it? He linked phrases from the Symphony of Potential to his own being, bracing his stance as if he could pull the very music into his body.

  The machine’s clanking faltered, gears grinding as the block of music flowing through it strained. Rey gritted his teeth.

  “Yer cain’t have it,” he told the creature. It was braced too, its mouth still open. A long tongue protruded from its suckered maw, growing forward, closing the distance to the machine.

  Krup? Krup? The critter’s fur was brighter, and it shook itself. More feathers unfolded between the fur and scales, curling around its shoulders and haunches.

  Rey was…stretched was the only word, his song latched to the Symphony of Potential. Its main theme in this place was the computing machine, and that was in danger of being sucked into the little abomination.

  “Yer metabolizing the notes,” he said. “Why? What’s it givin’ yer, besides more feathers than a Kirian?” He couldn’t hold the songs in place for much longer. He could hear his notes tearing away, becoming one with the Symphony of Potential, then fated for the mutating creature’s craw.

  KrupCher. It was a call of battle, and Rey lost control with the will the creature exuded. A block of notes slid from the computing machine, and Rey heard gears grind. The room went dark.

  When the lighting came back a moment later, the creature was closer, and bigger. It had a hairy mane now, and paws spread wide—seven toes apiece. A distended belly nearly dragged the floor.

  ChupKrup. Even its voice was deeper, and it eyed Rey as if he were another snack. He fell back against the stairs, breathing hard, one hand propping himself up.

  The Speaker will be back on the line with the majus, no doubt. He wondered how much energy it had stolen, and from where. Water systems? Lighting? Heating?

  “Yer not gonna’ drag me off, are yer?” The notes that made up his being stretched again, musical phrases becoming legato as they expanded. It was going to eat him, or his notes, at least. He had to do something.

  Change the music. Rey dived into his own melody, clutching his notes to him. He focused on the music stringing out toward the creature—no, the beast. Can I change my own song?

  Taking notes from elsewhere in his melody, he changed the pitch of the phrase the beast tugged against, then the tempo, adjusting it from a waltz to a jig. His heartbeat sped in response, and he grew oppressively warm, as if his body was running far faster than it should.

  Cheeeerp. The beast shook its head, flicking its long tongue side to side as if trying to spit out something distasteful.

  “So yer have a preference in music,” Rey gasped, as the beast turned back to the clanking machine. “Go on then, take another bite.” He pushed up from the stairs, listening to the block of layered notes in the conduit.

  The hairy, feathered thing took a step forward, opened its mouth, and pressed the barbed suckers to the side of the machine. Rey listened.

  It was impossible to hear the music from another house, but those in the House of Potential were used to transferring things they couldn’t hear. How else could a majus like him put music from multiple houses into a System, like the one that ran the air circulation, or the water?

  The Symphony of Potential flowed through the geared computing box, ushering notes to different places with a martial beat. Some part of that music slowed, and Rey looked to the critter. It was shaking, its swollen belly growing, and nubs of new wings poked from its back.

  As the base beat of the Symphony of Potential faltered, Rey thought furiously. He knew what the beast ate, and that meant he could affect it.

  “Alright yer critter,” he told it. “Yer gonna have to find another place for yer meals.” He took notes from his song again, though the action was a burden, his music resisting more interruption. But Rey forced them into the flow of music from the computation machine. He wouldn’t get these notes back, and he used the least amount necessary to bump the beat of the machine into a higher register, changing the key of the harmonics, and polarizing the physical energy that passed through this junction.

  The beast choked and coughed, its new wings fluttering. It backed away from the machine, and gave him a scathing look. It stepped forward and again tried to fasten its mouth to the side, but squirmed as if touching something hot.

  Cherp. It glared up at Rey. It was the size of a pet diggerhound from back home, now.

  “Nope,” he told it. “Can’t have yer disruptin’ any more transfer points. Yer can find a tasty melody somewhere else in the Nether.” There were sure to be other objects resonating at this same frequency. He hid his shaking hands behind his back, and stood as straight as he could manage.

  The beast yawned at him, snapping its barbed suction cups in what was obviously a gesture of contempt. It turned slowly, belly scraping across the floor as it squirmed between the machine and the wall. Rey heard tortured bricks grinding together as two quick swipes of its paws opened the hole in the brick wall to something its new bulk could enter. It squeezed through with a final Krup. A brick tottered out of place and thumped to the floor in a plume of plaster.

  Rey coughed away dust, then studied the large hole in the wall. That could have been me. Then something caught his eye. A scratch on the wall’s sublayer, like graffiti, revealed by the beast’s passage. He pulled himself closer.

  It was Majus Kheena’s name.

  * * *

  The majus was waiting for him at the top of the stair, arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face.

  Rey dragged his feet up the last stair, then leaned against a wall. “That weren’t no rat,” he said.

  “By your appearance, I am assuming I will see no further interruptions to the Imperium’s power grid? Me, I am tired of fending off angry diplomats and maji.”

  “Like the last time, eyah?”

  At his words, Majus Kheena’s eyes opened wide. “I...well, yes.”

  “It’s gone. Broke a hole in the wall and dragged itself off.” Rey waved a dusty hand at his mentor. If the majus refused to teach him any longer, then that was fine. Just let him get some rest. “But I saw yer name down there. This ain’t the first time this has happened, is it? Did yer change the frequency too, when yer fought it? If so, it’s adapted.”

  Majus Kheena’s face relaxed, into his usual glower. “Interesting. No. My own mentor, he was of the mind to kill the creatures and keep them from becoming a larger problem. I intervened to save the last one that had propagated from the previous batch.”

  “Tha’s why you wouldn’t let me off this one.”

  “Indeed. We maji should not so simply interfere with creatures native to the Nether.”

  “Native?” That caught his attention. “I thought nothin’ was native here. The species bring their own critters when they arrive.”

  Majus Kheena nodded, and turned down the corridor, gesturing Rey to follow. “My hypothesis, it is that these are native creatures, or at
least have been here so long they have evolved to be in symbiosis with the Nether’s peculiar existence.”

  Rey didn’t really care one way or the other, as long as the thing wasn’t sucking him dry of notes.

  “To answer your question,” Majus Kheena continued, “Me, I did not change the frequency of the transfer System. Instead, I crafted a modulating set of scales which changed their pattern so quickly the creature could not “bite” it, if you will.” He sighed. “Alas, I was too late. Today, I assume it has again gathered enough of the Symphony to gestate?”

  Rey nodded, keeping pace with his mentor. “You failed too?”

  “I did. Had six different Speakers contacting my mentor to complain.” He gave Rey a rare smile. “Speaker Humbano, she was one of them.”

  “Greatmother, she’s that old?”

  “Older,” the majus confirmed. “Perhaps you or I will discover a permanent solution to keep the creatures from feeding on our systems, in time. For now, it is enough to know that the Symphony Eater will sleep and gestate for another thirty or fifty cycles, until it births a new generation. Us, let us hope we have a better way to live alongside these rare beings then. I will call in workers tomorrow to repair the damage.”

  Rey dusted his long fingers against each other, his shoulders held higher. If Majus Kheena hadn’t found an answer to the beasty either, he didn’t feel so bad. Maybe he’d make a decent majus one day. Better than going back to pulling up spines out of his parents’ yard.

  “If nothing else,” he said to himself. “This’ll make a right swell story to tell over a dinner and a drink.”

  The Feastday

  1001 A.A.W.

  “I’ve never seen the Bazaar like this,” Prot said to his wife, Amra.

  “You’ve never seen the Bazaar,” Amra retorted, smacking Prot in the shoulder with one hand.

  “Yes, but you know what I mean,” Prot said. He shifted the box under his arm. “In paintings and postcards, there are stalls everywhere, with Mid-Imperium looming behind it, and you can buy anything you can imagine. Now it’s just…food. As far as you can see.”