As Related by Rand del Shambhah’d, First Auditor of Shambhala
The State of Shock may have an intimidating name, but it’s amazing. The train passes by the tip of the Inverted Range, where the peaks of the mountains are planted in the ground and the bases disappear into fields of clouds. It must be incredible to travel through those, but the hovertrain veers eastward, towards the coast. Then it’s one incredible sight after another: a place called Watertown with buildings literally made of free-flowing water, Filigree Mesa, where the wind has blown through the rocks so delicately they seem like towering works of lace, and the Gulf of Bridging, where, every day at sunset (it is one of the few places in the pleroma where time seems to pass), mollusks march from the water to the shore, creating a living crosswalk of their shells.
As one might guess, there is nowhere at all within the State of Shock to buy or harvest produce suitable for making gyros.
Fortunately, we travel completely down the coast and reach the State of the Union and the most pleasant city of Renfaire. At first glance, the city is reminiscent of Medieval Europa, but it takes but little observation to notice the glaring anachronisms present in the town’s construction. In short, it is a frame taken from a Volparnian history vid.
The town has quite an expansive bazaar, and so we decide to wander. Quennel is interested in the rich, exotic fabrics offered in stall after stall. Stephen and Briscoe are interested in each other. Stephen seems incapable of functioning without a boyfriend for ten consecutive seconds.
A delicious smell draws me to a section of the market called “Araby.” Freshly boiled javajuice – damn, I haven’t had a good cup in ages. It’s Turkish javajuice, made in an ibrik with sugar and spices. It’s indistinguishable from the best Turkish coffee. Davy engineered javajuice to have a chemical reaction to cardamom that causes it to form a dark precipitate simulating coffee grounds. Davy is a genius.
And then I smell something else delicious – freshly baked bread. A pita vendor!
« There’s a farmer’s market, » says Quennel. « And a spice merchant. We can get everything we need here. »
Vassali has now assumed the gyro quest, but he is nowhere to be found. That boy is always wandering off by himself, even now that he’s properly synchronized.
We search for a while, but Renfaire is enormous, full of androids and strange creatures. Finally, Briscoe shrugs. « The wording of the achievements is specific, » he says. « The gyro ingredients have to be fresh and “gathered yourself” but the seven metals only have to be collected. Why don’t you buy the pita and then give your metals to Vassali? »
I feel badly about it because it means that Vassali will be the last to make his achievement. However, the sooner we complete all of them, the better. From the produce stalls I purchase the kyookumbers and the unonions, and Quennel is helping me to select the best tomatoes when Vassali comes running up. Running. He looks uncharacteristically excited.
« I entered the lists, » he says.
« The lists of what? » asks Briscoe.
« The tourney, » says Vassali. « Jousting. »
« Jousting, as in on horseback, with a lance? » asks Quennel.
« No, with a rubber duck and a holepuncher. Of course I mean on horseback with a lance. »
« Why would you do something like that? » asks Quennel.
« Because knights are supposed to joust in their ladies’ names. And it sounds like fun. »
« It’s actually one of the achievements, » says Briscoe. « But he’ll have to win at it. »
« The pride of the Ascomanni is in their spears, » says Stephen. Quennel shoots me a look which clearly indicates which lance he thinks holds Stephen’s interest.
« But what about collecting the metals? »
« Bring them back to Atlas, » says Briscoe. « You can give them to anyone who still needs an achievement. »
« How long is the jousting going to take? We have to get the ingredients back to Squirrelworld while they’re still fresh. »
« Don’t worry about it, » says Stephen. « There’s an oceanic hovertrain called the Holiday Express that runs directly between Squirrelworld, Renfaire and a seaside resort called Mutuality Village further up the coast. »
« It’s too bad we won’t get a chance to see that, » says Briscoe.
« I don’t know, » says Quennel. « For some reason, it sounds a little creepy to me. »
« But don’t you need to have a horse? » I inject, noting that this practicality seemed to have escaped my brethren.
« I said I was Stephen’s squire, and I’d be using his horse, » says Vassali.
« I have a horse? » says Stephen.
Vassali leads us to a section of the stables marked with an ipsissimal crest. In fact, there are three horses: a white one belonging to Jamey, a black one belonging to Lorcan, and a stunning palomino belonging to Stephen. « That’s mine? » says Stephen incredulously. « I’ve never ridden a horse before. »
« Do you notice something unusual about these horses? » I ask.
Quennel furls his brow. « Ponies and horses are of the same species, correct? I seem to remember Tara’s pony, El Mooney, only having four legs. Of course, it had been genetically modified. »
« It was genetically modified to have a pink mane, » says Briscoe. « Cüinn says that extreme mods didn’t become legal in the Domha’vei until six years ago. »
« So these eight-legged steeds are genetically altered, » says Quennel. « Another anachronism. »
« Dermot says it’s more likely they’re mythological beasts of archetypal significance, » says Briscoe.
« It’s neither here nor there, » says Stephen. « The question is speed and balance: are those extra legs an improvement, or do they just get in the way? »
« Barnabas says they’ll get in the way, » says Briscoe. « The reasons insects have more legs is for additional grasping and balance when doing things like walking up walls. They aren’t nearly as fast as four-legged vertebrates. »
« Sir Gedwin said that this type of mount can only be found in the tundra between the State of Shock and the State of the Union, » says Vassali. « They’re the only kind used for jousting. I guess they use maxidobergators for serious warfare, but they’re too vicious for the games. I want my own horse. That’s why I entered. The prize is a horse. »
Vassali leads us out into the courtyard. The prize is also eight-legged, but with a lovely strawberry roan coat, and mane and tail of flame.
Literally. Of flame.
« I’d better get ready now, » says Vassali. « I have to win the tourney before the bread gets stale. »
« Do you think he can do it? » asks Quennel.
« Sooner or later, someone will have to, » says Stephen. « Might as well let him try. »
« There you are, » says Davy.
« Davy? » says Stephen, turning quite pale. « What are you doing here? »
« We wanted to see the jousting, » says Davy.
An instant later, Manasseh comes running up, wearing a jester’s cap. « I like it, » he says. « Is it cool? »
« Why didn’t you tell us you were coming? » asks Quennel. « Why didn’t we know? »
« We wanted to surprise you, » says Davy. « And you didn’t look in either of our branches. »
I don’t need to be hooked into the branch network to read the subtext: if you knew, Stephen would have run away again.
« Well, it’s great to see you, » says Briscoe, putting his arm around Davy.
« Oh, yeah, I brought something for Vassali. » Davy reaches into his jacket and pulls out a bit of fabric. It’s a tiny lace panty with an embroidered pink pony.
« I took it from Tara’s dresser, » he says. « It’s a mark of her favor to carry into battle. »
« Tara had those when she was sixteen, » says Quennel. « Daniel saw them once when the wind blew up her skirt. None of us will forget that – ever. »
« It’s hard to imagine Tara wearing something like that, » murmurs Briscoe.
At the time, she said, « “I wanted to see if you were paying attention,” » says Davy.
I’m in a quandary. Davy shouldn’t have stolen those from Tara’s room. As the embodiment of n’aashet n’aaverti, I should say something. On the other hand, everyone has gathered around them as if they have found the grail. Even Vassali has emerged from the stables.
« Don’t say I never did anything for you, » says Davy, tossing the panties into Vassali’s face. « If you feel like showing your gratitude, I’ll accept sexual favors. »
« My victory is certain! » says Vassali. He loops the lance through the leg holes, twists and repeats until the panties are tightly wrapped around the base of his lance.
« Now there’s an act of archetypal significance, » says Stephen.
« We should go to the stands if we want to get a good seat, » says Manasseh. « This is exciting! »
« All this and rambat gyros for dinner, » says Davy.
I’m hungry right now. Fortunately, there are plenty of vendors at the jousting grounds selling ale and such medieval delicacies as chik-henn and biiskits and the ubiquitous kottawn candy. After getting suitable refreshments, we take our place in the stands.
« Has anyone noticed something unusual about this jousting field? » I ask.
« Now that you mention it, » says Quennel, « doesn’t it look a lot like a MayaXtreme ballcourt? »
« Oyez, oyez, oyez! » cries a herald. « The rules for this afternoon’s melee are simple: the winning knight will insert his lance in yonder hole. Knights may defend by unseating other knights, who are then disqualified from the competition. »
« That’s the ballhoop », says Briscoe.
« The archetypal significance is overwhelming, » says Stephen.
« I don’t get it, » says Manasseh. « MayaXtreme is played in low gravity conditions. I don’t understand how they can play it in full gravity. »
« I don’t understand how they can play it with horses, » says Quennel. « And I doubly don’t understand how this is anything like jousting. »
« Renfaire is not historically accurate, » says Davy. « Quelle surprise. »
« It’s a good thing we didn’t bring Suibhne, » says Manasseh. « He’d cough up a penguin. »
« Now the herald is reading all the names and titles of the contestants, » says Briscoe. « I’m starting to doubt that we’ll get to Squirrelworld for dinner, express train or no. »
« So Stephen, » says Davy, « are you a slut, a coward, or what? »
« Davy! » says Manasseh.
« Seriously, » says Davy. « You pick up Manasseh and dump him, pick up Briscoe and dump him, pick up Barnabas under Ethan’s nose and dump him, then get Briscoe on the rebound, but you’re going to throw him over for Vassali as soon as he gets the achievement, aren’t you? »
« Someone else noticed, » murmurs Quennel.
« Stephen requires a certain amount of physical affection, » says Briscoe defensively. « What’s wrong with that? »
« It isn’t about cruising or being a scenester, » says Davy. « Look at Ace. Look at Slone. Do those guys leave a trail of broken hearts in their wake? They know they’re just in it for the sex. »
« Sloane is amazed by this development, » says Quennel.
« I mean, I’m in it for the sex, too. But then some people mean something to me. Like Suibhne. Or Manasseh. »
« You’re just being a jealous bitch, » says Stephen. « You should be grateful that I got out of your way when I realized I was creating drama between you and Manasseh. »
« The tourney is starting, » I point out.
« You didn’t have to deal with Manasseh crying his eyes out because you didn’t come home as soon as you go the achievement, » says Davy. « Crying his eyes out every night. »
« Not every night, » says Manasseh. « Davy is exaggerating. »
The horses come charging at each other from both ends of the ballcourt. To my eyes, there are too many knights at once on the narrow field. No one has any chance of getting near the ballhoop until massive carnage has ensued. An enormous clang reverberates against the stone walls as the first crush of horsemen crashes into each other.
Vassali, on the other hand, isn’t in the press of knights, but has cut over towards the side of the ballcourt. Perhaps he’s waiting for the first few waves to eliminate each other – a canny strategy, but hardly in the spirit of the sport.
No, that’s not what he’s doing at all. He’s riding up the steep slope of the ballcourt wall.
« Yeah, that’s what you get when you cross a horse and a spider, » says Davy. « It’s still plenty fast, though. »
Vassali is now riding perpendicular to the rest of the knights and is using his lance to harvest them like wheat before a scythe. He runs the length of the court, clearing a path, finally ramming the lance into the ballhoop before the knights on the other side can regroup to attack him.
“Vassali of Seachange, Khagan of Circinus. 53rd to emanate, 38 in the color scale, resonates to 163. 1.772 meters tall, cock size 15.98 cm when erect, apparent age 27. Knight errant. Totem is Garcinia mangostana, the purple mangosteen, fixed star is Dalastam, the secret place. Esoteric symbol is the Etruscan letter 
. Dessert is nau’gsh pastila. Function is adjusting gravity, proto-conscious tendency is bravery, designated Valiant. Blazon is dandeliony mangosteen and argent, on a pale sable, a lance, argent.”
The crowd roars. Then Stephen and Briscoe start up a chant: « As-co-man-ni As-co-man-ni As-co-man-ni! »
« Do you ever feel like there’s something inherently ridiculous about us? » I ask Quennel.
« I think it’s part of being a man, » he replies.
*****
In the end, Stephen and Briscoe don’t get a piece of that lance. Vassali refuses to be parted from his new horse.
« I’m a knight errant, » he says. « I’m going to continue up the coast for a while and see if I can fill out the map. »
« That will be very helpful for future branches on the quest, » says Briscoe. « But don’t stay away too long. »
Vassali salutes by lifting his lance in the air. His mount rears, and they are dramatically backlit by the late afternoon sun. The wind catches Vassali’s thick hair just so, as the flaming mane of his horse flickers and dances.
« Whose cock do you have to suck to get an idiom like that? » asks Davy. « Fuck it – let’s go eat gyros. »
*****
Davy is still sniping at Stephen on the train. Quennel puts his arm around Davy. « Let it go, » he says. « Let it work itself out. »
« Idiot, » says Davy, suddenly burying his head against Quennel’s chest. It surprises all of us.
It surprises us that Davy has feelings?
Stephen slumps back, spreading his arms along the top of the seating, the back of his head pressed against the window. We’re over the ocean now. There’s nothing much to see. He closes his eyes.
« I was trying not to hurt you, » he says.
The drama is getting on my nerves. It’s getting in the way of our n’aashet n’aaverti. Not the sex, which is fruitful and natural, and certainly not the love, but the constant infighting. « What would Tara think about this? »
« If Tara were here, » Quennel remarks, « she’d grab one or two of us to service her, and would expect the rest of us to go at it for background ambiance. »
« I wish I could stop being so dumb, » says Davy, « but my chest hurts. Why do we have to be real humans? Wasn’t it better when the Cu’enashti just pretended to act like humans for the sake of our Chosen? »
I don’t have a good answer. Being human means making mistakes. But if we aren’t, we’ll never understand Tara.
« I don’t want to think anymore, » says Stephen. « I just want to get laid. »
« That’s because you were never made for contemplation, » says Quennel. « You were made for action. »
« I can’t put it into words either, » says Davy.
« Ask Manasseh, » I suggest. « Manasseh is supposed to be a prophet. »
Manasseh looks out the window. « Cool! » he says. « Look at that! »
It’s the right time of day. Thousands of tiny mollusks rise to the top of the bay, forming a bridge out of their own bodies.
« Do you know why that happens? » asks Manasseh the Prophet.
« No, » says Davy.
« Neither do I! » says Manasseh the Prophet.
« It’s happening because I and I wants it to happen, » says Quennel. « It has an archetypal significance. »
« Even if all of us put our heads together, we couldn’t figure it out, » says Briscoe. « I think it’s reductive to assume that I and I is simply a conglomerate of us. »
« It’s happening because it will be a spectacular thing to show Tara, » I murmur, yawning. « I’m going to catch some sleep. »
*****
By the time I awaken, we’re pulling into Squirrelworld. I grab my grocery bag and head for the FroYo stand, where Quennel’s milk has been transformed into a thick yogurt.
Now I need somewhere to prepare this food.
« There’s a stand over there marked “Fresh gyros,” » says Davy. « That would be a clue. »
I set the yogurt to strain before going to the cryogenic freezer to retrieve the rambat. There are three frozen carcasses, fur matted with blood. Callum wasn’t killing them for consumption. I choose the one which looks least mutilated.
As the carcass enters the thaw cycle, it occurs to me that I’m going to have to skin and butcher this thing.
« When do we eat? » says Davy.
« I think this will take a while. »
« Right. Then let’s go ride the PlasmaaJett. »
Quennel stays with me while the rest of them check out the park’s various attractions. « Boys will be boys, » he says.
« I don’t know anything about cooking, » I confess.
« Gyros are easy. The trick is having a vertical grill. The rest is all about chopping vegetables and throwing in a few spices. »
« How about butchering the meat? »
« Well, you should probably cut the head off and remove the organs, » he says.
He must’ve seen me turning three shades of green, because he modifies his statement. « You know, I think they just use leg of rambat to make gyros. So why don’t you just hack off a leg? »
My green pales to two shades. Maybe I can handle this. It would be better if I had a knife, but there’s an axe in the utility shed.
I raise the axe over the prone carcass. All I have to do is strike. It isn’t like the thing is still alive.
« You eat meat all the time, » chastises Quennel. « It won’t do to be so squeamish. »
The worst part, now that I think about it, will be the unonions, innocent root vegetables which were ripped from their homes. I’m going to have to chop them into little pieces.
« Benbow is right, » I gasp through my tears. « We should look for a better universe. »
« Like the nul-universe, where proto-consciousness dines on proto-consciousness? » asks Quennel. « Man up, and cut off the damn leg. »
Suddenly, I understand the point of this exercise. « By gathering the ingredients and cooking them myself, instead of having a meal delivered to me by a chef, or getting it printed on demand, I’m forced to confront the true nature of food. Energy is ultimately conserved. You only get it by stealing it from somebody else. »
« Tara isn’t too good to eat meat or vegetables, » Quennel insists.
Removing the hide is a messy misery. I’m resentful that no one else is here to help me, or at least to witness it. « The lessons of the achievements will only be integrated if everyone relives everyone else’s. »
« You have a point, » Quennel says, « but we’re lazy. And nobody likes to confront pain. We’d rather ride rollercoasters. »
I mount the meat on the grill, then fire up the heat. I’ll let the yogurt drain until the meat is cooked, which should be a few hours. The sauce is going to be a little runny, but I’m not the one who has to win the cooking competition.
« Why don’t you go have fun while it roasts? » suggests Quennel. « I can keep an eye on it to make sure the meat doesn’t burn. »
He means, well, but I don’t feel like being alone. I find Manasseh and Briscoe, sitting together on a park bench. « I don’t know what to do, » Manasseh says.
I sit next to them. I wish I could help, but I don’t know what he’s feeling. How can I give him advice?
« It’s not that much of an advantage this time, » says Briscoe. « Remember the time that Ailann looked in Cillian’s branch, and he finally got it? That was easy because Cillian knew exactly what he wanted. But Davy doesn’t. »
« How much sense does it make not to know what you want? »
« It’s common among humans, » says Briscoe. « Davy’s like that because he’s designed to function on intuition. At least Stephen is easy. Stephen is thinking that seducing Davy might be a good plan. »
« Somehow, I’m not too sure of that. »
« It’s like Davy wants me to choose between them, » says Manasseh, « but that’s so stupid! »
« If Tara were here, she’d know what to do. »
« It’s better she isn’t, » says Briscoe. « She’s come to our rescue far too much lately. We have to do some things ourselves. The next time she comes here, we’d better show her a good time. »
Davy and Stephen join us. Davy’s eyes are red; he isn’t even trying to pretend not to care anymore. It occurs to me that it isn’t good for a being as powerful as Davy to have a meltdown.
« But I love you! » says Davy to Manasseh.
« I know, » Manasseh replies, « even if you never once said it. But does that mean you don’t love Suibhne now? »
« I, ah…»
« All right, why don’t I give up Stephen, and you give up Suibhne? Suibhne has Axel, and Stephen has Briscoe, so it should be all right. »
« But it won’t be! » says Davy. « It’s obvious! »
Stephen slumps back on the bench. I’m sure his branch is wilting.
« I’m going to go murder some innocent vegetables now, » I announce. No one pays any attention.
I walk back to the gyro booth, feeling hopelessly alone. They’re wallowing in drama when it would be so easy for them to solve their problems. Me? I’m isolated. Ostracized. It makes me angry.
Quennel reads the expression on my face. « Yeah, » he says, « I don’t want to hear it either. The meat on the outside is done. You’re supposed to slice it away so that the inner meat is exposed to the flame. »
I’ll chop the vegetables first. The knife bangs into the cutting board as I put my anger and frustration into the action. I overdo it, cutting my finger by accident. Damn, this hurts, especially with unonion juice all over the place. And Marius got shot? I have no right to complain.
Quennel grabs my hand and sticks my finger into his mouth.
« Will that actually help? » I gasp.
« It will probably contaminate the wound, » he replies, « but it made you feel better, didn’t it? »
I start to laugh, and then I start to cry. « I’m sorry. This is nothing. I don’t have any right…»
« Don’t be silly, » he says, putting his arms around me. « We all have a right to how we feel, even when it’s ridiculous. Like me, worrying about Evan for no reason. All he’s doing is playing music. I wouldn’t mind if he got laid, if only I were there to share it with him. »
« Why didn’t you go back to Atlas with Ethan and Barnabas? »
« Because Ethan helped me, and I owed him. I couldn’t pay him back, so I thought the best thing would be to help somebody else. »
« It’s strange. I spend a lot of time at Daniel’s hanging out with Patrick, and you spend a lot of time there with Evan, but we don’t really talk to each other. »
« True. But I could feel you were there. If I close my eyes, I can feel all the branches now, but then I can feel the space where the missing ones should be, and it burns like cold metal. That’s why Stephen ran away from Briscoe that time, and that’s why everyone is avoiding you while they’re pretending not to. »
« Thank you for admitting it. »
« Avoiding it doesn’t make the pain go away. I miss you, Rand. »
« It’s almost over. All I have to do is slice these tomatoes without dismembering myself. »
It happens so suddenly; a click, and then I’m overwhelmed with the rush of voices, the constant background chatter I’ve learned to take for granted. But I was born into silence, and in a lot of ways could withstand it better than most. That’s why I was one of the last. I wasn’t given anything I couldn’t bear.
“Rand del Shambhah’d, First Auditor of Shambhala. 44th to emanate, 79 in the color scale, resonates to 401. 1.69 meters tall, cock size 16.09 cm when erect, apparent age 36. Detective. Totem is Picea sitchensis, the Sitka spruce, fixed star is Tien Tsan, extremely honorable, also called Tàizūn, the royals. Esoteric symbol is the Minchiate trump La Fede, faith or n’aashet n’aaverti. Dessert is nau’gsh cheesecake. Function is creative empowerment, proto-conscious tendency is fidelity, designated n’aashet n’aaverti. Blazon is azure, a triquetra, sunburst.”
« That’s the dinner bell, » says Davy.
I can feel the connection, though, and it makes me want to start crying again. Then I hear a voice calling to me from over the din. It’s Patrick.
I’m in love with Patrick. I never wanted to admit to that because I know I’ll never be special to him.
« I don’t understand what you mean, » he says. « Do you think anyone could take your place? »
I open my eyes. Stephen is looking at me expectantly.
« Just give him meat, » says Davy. « That’s what I call archetypal significance. »
« Will you stop? » says Manasseh. « You’re hurt – we get that. It doesn’t give you a right to be mean. »
« I’m mean? He dropped you like a rubber ball into a MayaXtreme court. And I come all the way out here so that you can patch things up with him because I can’t stand to see you cry. »
« So basically Stephen left me to protect my relationship with you, and you’re trying to make me get back together with Stephen, and neither one of you has asked me what I want. »
« That’s a pretty good summary, » says Quennel. « So what do you want? »
« I want a sandwich, » says Manasseh.
Further Curious Tales of the Chevalier’s Arbor: Daemon Pact