« Ellery is in, » says Balin. « And, as it turned out, Ailann was able to heal Harsh. »
« That’s a weight off my mind. »
« And the new emanation’s name is Manan. Of course! Why did Ellery know that, and not me? Now I remember how pure he was, how much I wanted to protect him. » For a moment, the generally impenetrable Balin seems gripped by nostalgia, but he sighs and continues. « Anyway, they’ve done a lot of analysis of the list of achievements, targeting a number which seem relatively easy to complete and assigning them to appropriate emanations. Unfortunately, Driscoll absolutely refuses to perform achievement #78: “Paint a self-portrait.” »
« What? Why? That should be easy for him. »
« He says there are two reasons. The first is that he doesn’t have the proper art supplies. The second is that he’s done so many self-portraits already, it wouldn’t be an achievement. »
Tommy groans, « That is so like Driscoll. »
« Our instructions are to make certain Ace gets a quest achievement as soon as possible. »
« Those of us who can, look in Ailann’s branch, scan the list and see if there’s something easy Ace could do. Better still, let’s make a copy of the list so that everyone can look at it. »
« How long would it take for you to learn how to crochet? » Ari asks Ace.
I nix the idea. « He’ll have the same problem as Driscoll. He’d need supplies, and it’s over a day back to the shopping concourse. »
« It would be so much easier if we had a hovercar, » Blackjack grumbles.
Of course it would.
I venture outside the cabin. The area seems in perpetual twilight, making it difficult to see through the shadows. When we had arrived, exhausted, it gave the illusion of dusk, but now, it seems like it could possibly be dawn. The direction of the sun is irrelevant.
I had vaguely noted several outbuildings. Now it is clear that one of them is a garage.
« One all-terrain hovercar, » I announce as I pull up towards the door. « But I’m not convinced that we should go back to the concourse. There must be something closer. »
« Besides, all of us won’t fit, » says Wynne, « especially the big guys. It looks like you could maybe take six. »
« Maybe we should split into two teams. As long as we’ve got one of the Questing Knights, we’ll have protection from the pleroma and the ability to communicate. Maybe Ailann’s priority is getting Ace’s precognition back, but mine is making sure the other emanations are safe. We’re still missing two groups. »
« How about #8: “Catch a fish?” » asks Balin. « I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s fishing equipment in a cabin like this. »
Balin is right; we find rods and tackle in a toolshed. Wynne chooses to remain with Ace, and Ari is chosen as the contact since his enormous bulk would hog too much space in the car. The remaining recognized ones go with me, and lots are drawn for the last two seats. When Whirljack wins, everyone defers to Blackjack.
« When we catch that fish, we’ll rejoin you, » says Ace. « We’ll try to complete as many achievements as possible on the way. »
I feel considerably better about this. The cabin is secure, and Ari is a fortress. The others should be safe, at least as safe as possible under these circumstances.
We pile into the car, and soon we’re speeding over a mountain path. The weather has taken a turn for the better now, and under other circumstances, it would be quite a pleasant drive. We head even further north. Assuming that Ailann’s supposition that one team is on the boat is correct, the final group seemed to be going deep inland. My guess is that they are trying to get to Ophion’s stronghold.
I’m jolted from my thoughts by a voice booming through the mountains: “Evan Finlay-Cole, Esquire. Ipsissimal Bard. 3rd to emanate, 33 in the color scale, resonates to 137. 1.815 meters tall, cock size 17.78 cm when erect, apparent age 24. Musician. Totem is Populus tremuloides, the quaking aspen, fixed star is Shelyak, the harp. Esoteric symbol is the geomantic glyph Tristitia, sadness. Dessert is chocumber éclair filled with nau’gsh pastry crème. Function is visionary inspiration, proto-conscious tendency is melody, designated Song. Blazon is key lime, on a fess cotised argent, a fasharp proper.”
I nearly slam on the reverse thrust. « What’s happening? »
« Evan is completely confused, » Chase says. « He just started to sing a song he’d heard the captain of the Elusive Queen singing earlier, and he got the quest achievement. »
« “#27: “Learn the words to a migration era chanty,” » says Ross. « Give us a few minutes to get him caught up. Oh, and Marius says that Thomas is trying to put himself to use. He’s found the temple library and is learning Tummo, the practice of inner fire. »
« It’s been my experience that both Thomas and his brother have inner fire to spare. »
Ross grins and continues. « The penguin said it was the proper technique for achievement #74: “Dry forty towels in a freezing cave by using only your body heat.” But he couldn’t teach Thomas the meditative practice because penguins are too naturally adept at breath control for it to be a valuable physiological trigger, and they have different mechanisms for regulating body temperature anyway. »
« That’s a bummer, » says Blackjack. « I’ll bet penguins suck at hatha yoga positions too. What’s a peng-ascetic to do? »
« Chöd, » Chase answers.
« I think I could do #96, » says Blackjack.
« “Explore your sexuality?” » says Whirljack. « That’s like Driscoll doing a self-portrait. »
« It probably wouldn’t hurt to try, » I tell them. « But let’s wait until we make another rest stop. »
« I think we should be proactive, » says Whirljack.
« Somebody’s got to drive. If we had Stephen with us, it would be different. »
I continue down the road, allowing myself to be lulled by the landscape. My mind drifts to my first meeting with Stephen, not so long ago. It was right after the welcoming party, when Ross was just finishing off the work on all those disclosure addendums…
*****
“Are you sure you don’t want to add any more?” asked Ross. “While I’m at it?”
“More? Do I look like I’m that fickle?”
“Well, no, it’s just…Stephen.”
“Stephen? That’s a Goliath emanation, isn’t it? Is there some particular reason why Stephen needs to be emanated?”
“Not particularly, except that Malachi thinks because he’s listed first in the correspondence chart, he’ll add stability to the pleroma.”
“Oh. Well, that can wait. I’m…”
“And Manasseh was crying because he misses Stephen.”
I was about to say that the amount of new husbands I’d acquired recently had exhausted me emotionally, especially that horrible scene with Vassali. I was looking forwards to spending some time with Ross, tanned and beautiful Ross, stable, sensible and familiar Ross. Unfortunately, the thought of sweet little Manasseh in tears was unbearable.
I placed my head on Ross’ broad shoulder. He smelled good. He smelled – professional. He had a smell which said: This is the man your mother wants you to marry. I knew that he didn’t want to leave any more than I wanted him to. I knew he was thinking about an afternoon on the beach drinking shrimp cocktails. We both knew that Chef Yuric had gotten in a supply of those jumbo prawns from Eden, and he’d been pickling them in rhybaa for weeks.
“You’ll still have to do the disclosure,” I said. “Is Stephen going to be offended if he’s only around for a few days? It’s bad enough the way I’ve been shunting the new ones off to the side.”
“Tarlach says that the welcoming committee thinks the new orientation module will help a lot. He’ll be assigned a mentor right away. I’d say Manasseh, but they want the mentors to be from a different tree. Cross-pollination and all that. Having the extra time might help me also –Vassali and Darius still haven’t declared an occupation.”
“Rainier is an astronomer, obviously. What did Briscoe and Tannon decide?”
“Briscoe is just going to be listed as ‘troubleshooter,’ which is vague, but descriptive enough of what he does. Tannon wants to be listed as ‘conifer.’”
“Conifer isn’t an occupation.”
“Tell him that. He says he’s a professional conifer.”
And so, I was talked in to yet another experiment. Ross went up to the library. I lit the candle – a starmint green tetrahedron – and waited.
A few minutes later, my datapad hummed – I had a message. Surprisingly, it was text only. “Maxxa’s – Steward’s Wharf – find me – S.”
Steward’s Wharf was in Albion Port-of-Call. I had last gone there with Daniel one weekend almost forty years ago. We’d walked down the slope to the Sea of Illusion and sat beneath the docks, just holding hands. Daniel and I had never needed to say much to each other; there had been a sense of perfect synergy between us. I remember watching the sun descend, wishing that the afternoon would go on forever.
I looked up Maxxa’s – it was a working man’s pub on the pier. I didn’t have anything to wear to that sort of place. I didn’t even know if I could borrow anything appropriate from the maintenance staff. They had uniforms for work; for off-duty, they wore livery. I thought for a moment of the ones who had school-age daughters, but there was no way I could pull off a sixteen-year old’s casual clothes. Of course, I could order something fabricated, but that would take time and raise questions.
Then I had an outrageous idea. I’d raid Ash’s wardrobe. The emanations came in such a variety of shapes and sizes, something had to fit me.
Lorcan was closest to my height, but no way was my rump fitting into his skinny jeans. I’m a womanly woman, and in order to find a bottom that fit my bottom, I was wallowing in the waistline, and had to roll up the cuffs. I belted the jeans tightly, figuring I’d wear a loose-fitting top. The top was easier – I just threw on one of Lorcan’s black t’s and a leather jacket of Tommy’s. For shoes, I wore a pair of close-fitting boots, which worked since the jeans were cut for wider shins than mine. I put on a pair of shadehuds and tucked my hair under a leather cap.
I regarded myself in the mirror. I was hardly the sex bomb I wanted to be when encountering a new husband. I considered sending a message to Stephen, telling him to get his ass back to Court Emmere.
Ah, hell, it was an adventure. As much as I appreciated them, it always felt good to slip away from the watchful eyes of Lord Danak and Lady Madonna. Besides, I could dress like a bozo spackle-mime and Ash would still think I was the most beautiful thing in the universe.
Maxxa’s wasn’t a total dive, but it wasn’t a trendy bar in the capitol, either. It was close to evening now, and crowded with men and women who had come to grab an ale after work. The air smelled vaguely of transported marine life. When the colonists first arrived from Skarsia, they had been able to terraform the oceans. The nau’gsh just didn’t give a damn what went on under the waves.
I scanned the crowd. “Hey babe, how about having a good time with us?” a man said, touching my shoulder. It was most certainly not Stephen. He had green eyes, and couldn’t have been more than twenty. I was old enough to be his grandmother. Did something like that even matter anymore? If he had a Cu’enashti in his family, he could be like myself, virtually immortal. For all I knew, he was older than I was.
“I’m meeting someone,” I said, smiling. I wondered if he would push his luck. Then Ash would certainly reveal himself. Ash was very jealous.
But he shrugged and moved on. I kept scanning the room. I always recognized Ash by his eyes, but it was uncomfortable to meet the eyes of strangers. How else could I find him?
All right, this was going to be really awkward if I was wrong, but…Ash didn’t make junk. I headed for the most attractive man in the room. His brown hair was covered by a leather cap, which also served to shade his eyes, making it more difficult for me to verify his identity even as I got closer. He had high cheekbones and pouting lips; there was something of a natural arrogance about his features. I could tell that he was nicely built – strong, not like an athlete, but like a man who works with his body.
As I approached him, I realized how funny it must look, because he was wearing a leather jacket that matched his cap, just like I was. We looked like members of a hoverbike thuggerhood.
And then I could see the resemblance to Wynne and Chase, his brothers. He had Wynne’s cocky self-confidence, but also Chase’s complete disregard for his own well-being. I’d never articulated it before, but both men were tarnished angels: Wynne looked like a grifter trying to pass as a sophisticate; Chase looked like someone who used to be class but had tumbled into the gutter. This man had a similar sense about him, like perhaps he was slumming, but it was hard to be sure.
“You did know,” he said. “I’m impressed.”
I took his hand. “Whatever form you take, I’ll always find you.”
“Let’s have a beer,” he said. “The blue ale is K’ntasari brewed.”
I sat at the bar next to him. “Tell me about yourself.”
“I like speed,” he said. “Racing, I mean, not drugs. I’ll take the drugs, too, though, if I can get good ones.”
“Sparkle is as far as I got with the R and D on that, and it’s more a euphoric and sensory enhancer. The problem with speed is that it’s hard on the metabolism, and then there’s always the danger of a crash.”
“It sounds just like my hoverbike. Let’s go driving.”
“How much have you been drinking?”
He laughed at me. “You forget whom you’re dealing with.”
True enough. Ash could metabolize anything instantly, if he wanted.
We got on the bike, and he shot down the coast, towards Starbright Point. “I won’t go all the way to the tree,” he said. “I’ll get caught in my own security perimeter.”
We could see it anyway, from a distance. “What a monster,” he said. “Goliath is so different.”
“You remember Goliath?” I asked.
“Of course I do.”
“But you weren’t emanated on Eden. Were you aware of something before you took this form?”
“Aware? I guess that’s a reasonable word for it. Not consciously aware, though. The way you’re aware when you’re dreaming. You sense things, and you don’t look for a logic behind them.”
“Were you aware of the others?”
“I dreamed about them sometimes. It’s hard to remember. Maybe I’ll recognize them when I see them. I definitely had the sense that I wasn’t alone. I remember emotions – waves of joy, panic, distress, arousal. Again, I didn’t question, just rode their intensity.”
The night was warm, and the strong wind felt good against my skin. I’d never actually ridden a hoverbike before, and I was enjoying it. He curved back towards Court Emmere. “We’re going to get caught by the security perimeter there,” I said. “We can’t have strange men flying by the ipsissimal residence. I’ll message Zosim and tell him to expect us.”
We were met by the captain as we pulled up near the garage. Zosim stared at Stephen intently.
“Yes, I know, another one. Ash is doing some important work which requires them.”
Zosim turned to Stephen. “Your highness, may I ask why? Why you keep changing bodies? It certainly is confusing for security.”
“It’s not just the body,” said Stephen. “It’s an entirely new perspective. I can’t quite imagine how lonely it must be to be the only one in your head.”
“Are you really a whole new person? This is literally your first day of being alive?”
“I’d say that statement was 90% true.”
I grabbed his hand. “He took me for a drive,” I said, “and now I’m taking him for a drive.”
We weren’t two steps into the bedroom before Stephen had me pressed back against the wall. His tongue was in my mouth and his hand up my skirt before I could say anything – but that was fine with me. Lately, I’d had my share of shy lovers, like Ellery, or the dreamy Darius, or melancholy Rainier. It was good to have a man who could thrust like a wormhole evocation drive.
Well, one thing was certain. Ash never bored me.
*****
« Um, Tara, » says Chase, pulling me from my recollection. « What is that thing up there on the road? »
« BJ, I’ve got bad news for you, » says Ross. « It’s not going to be “Explore your sexuality.” It’s going to be #53: “Defeat the Robot of Doom.” »
« How the fuck are we supposed to defeat that? » yells BJ. It’s a reasonable question. The thing is about 7 meters tall, fully armored, with a plasma cannon attached to one arm. If we had Aran with the rocket launcher, maybe. The better course of action is to drive around it. Since it’s a hovercar, going off road is usually no problem. Here, however, it’s tricky: the slope becomes steep and uneven, and we’re surrounded by trees.
« Don’t freak out, » says Whirljack. « We’ve got Tara and three recognized Knights of the Quest. It shouldn’t attack us. »
The monstrosity peers at us with laser-site eyes. It does nothing. It becomes clear that the problem isn’t so much an attack – it’s that we can’t get past it. Its enormous bulk is blocking the road.
« We need to negotiate, » suggests Ross.
« How do you negotiate with the Robot of Doom? » asks BJ.
Balin’s eyes narrow. « You don’t really need to negotiate, » he says. « Filibuster. »
Ross hops out of the car, approaching it. « Excuse me, » he begins.
« Balin, what are you talking about? »
« I’ve noticed that the constructs of the pleroma operate based according to certain rules and principles. That’s interesting in itself because they don’t have to. If it’s all just a mental construct, why not make adversaries – hydras, rambats, whatever, that simply can’t be destroyed? But they can be. Ailann’s group is right. This is behaving like some twisted game. Now if you look closely at that robot, you’ll see that it’s operating by using some kind of power pack. There’s a gauge on the rear of the pack, and it is glowing yellow. »
« It’s running out of battery, » says Whirljack. « Then we have to trick it into expending its energy. »
Ross is trying to reason with it: « According to Section 287.45 of the Skarsian public highways act, it is illegal to willfully block a thoroughfare on public land. »
The robot extends its weapon arm. There’s a tense moment when we all crouch a little, seeking cover in the hovercar. Fat chance: if that thing fires, this flimsy car is going to be reduced to ribbons of charred metal.
But it isn’t firing. It’s pointing at a sign that went unnoticed because it was nestled in the foliage. The sign reads, “No trespassing.”
Ross shrugs. « It’s not public land, » he says sheepishly. He strokes his chin.
« According to section 98b of the Skarsian Emergency Powers Act, » he says, « the Matriarch has the right to temporarily appropriate real property for the public good. The property may be permanently appropriated if adequate compensation is provided in the form of an alternate land-grant. »
« I’m appropriating this property, » I announce. « Who owns it? »
The robot says nothing. Perhaps it has no vocal capacity. It might be my imagination, but it looks sullen.
« Marius says that he can bring up a view on the projector which seems to divide the land mass into 101 fiefdoms, » says Chase. « Our current location is listed as belonging to the Supreme and Excellent Voivode of Skarsia. »
« Wait. Marius is the Supreme and Excellent Voivode. Ask him if he can control the robot. »
Chase shakes his head. « Marius says he doesn’t know anything about a robot. But he has another idea…»
The robot shudders. There’s a hissing noise as its armor splits and does a complicated series of rotations. Suddenly, it has wings. Ross takes a sudden step backwards as the ground rumbles and smoke rolls from beneath its feet. Then it’s off, flying powered by hidden jets in the soles of its enormous metallic boots.
« That’s no ordinary robot, » says Chase. « That’s a mecha! Driscoll would be creaming his jeans right now. »
« I thought Marius couldn’t control it? »
Ross points to the sign in the bushes. It now reads, “Visitors welcome.”
« Well and good, » mutters Whirljack, « but we lost the chance for that achievement. »
« Let’s worry about that one when we’re better armed. »
« Evan’s up to speed, » says Chase. « Want to hear his story? »