Scrambled, page 3
part #14 of Directorate Series
"The short version of the story is that the world was a fourteen centuries old Earth colony, used to exile some of the genetically engineered people on Earth. Including Those Left Behind. We captured the Earth Anchor but failed to invade the Earth. The local magical community, which included many of the very old original Tellies, became aware once again of the Multiverse, and started working on making gates themselves, and eventually set up an Empty World for embassies from all over, and sponsored Disco, to put some teeth in their 'No War' demands." Ebsa eyed their crossed arms and stubborn expressions. "You really do need to talk to them."
Urfa shifted. "And what of the One?"
Eggo frowned at him. "What does that matter? Why should it be different?"
"Because there wasn't a huge battle two years ago, all over Makkah, between the Last Prophet and the Last Warrior. Aren't you curious?"
"Not really, that's Interior's problem. I have enough of my own." A glance at his watch.
Ebsa got his boggle under control. "Emre One versus Isak ibn Isak? With a cast of thousands? Is Makkah still standing?"
Urfa leaned close. "Don't get snippy. There were over two hundred dead, including both the Prophet and the Warrior."
"Emre and Isakson are friends. Or, on this world, were friends. Until the One kidnapped the child of a Warrior. Castrated a three-quarters trained Warrior. What the Hell were they thinking? I'll bet Ra'd was responsible for half the casualties." Ebsa boggled, shook his head. "You created a monster. What about the rest of the kids? The wives, or widows rather, of the Warriors? What happened to Umaya, wife of the Prophet Nicholas? What happened to the daughter of the Prophet?"
Urfa glowered. "She's more dangerous than her brother. Massive telekinetic sabotage from easily a hundred meters away. There are kill-on-sight orders out for her. Interior nearly had her, last week. Pity they only injured her."
Ebsa huffed out a breath in disbelief. "You are damn lucky they didn't kill her. Are you trying to make your monster worse?"
Eggo glanced at his watch.
Why is he watching the clock? Ebsa rattled his handcuffs in frustration. "Right. So . . . what, apart from trying to disassemble Makkah, has he done?"
"Aiding and abetting the assassination of a Prophet of the One? It's hard to top that," one of the other Interior guys growled.
"How many murders, here in Paris?"
"None that we know of. He's not on a killing spree . . . " the Interior guy trailed off, starting, finally to look worried.
Ebsa softened his voice. "How many Presidents have you lost? How many Councilmen, Ministers, Directors have died?"
They stared at him.
"And maybe he will just suck on a gun when he has nothing left to live for. But I think he'll leave a heap of bodies behind before that happens. Carefully selected targets."
Scowls.
Urfa glared down on him. "And what's your solution?"
"Not my problem, despite my immediate 'my friend is in trouble' knee-jerk reaction. But tossing him through a gate and losing the location comes to mind." Ebsa looked over at the priests. "Is your medical science so primitive that you cannot simply suppress the hormones until the brain is fully mature? I mean, with castration, you miss the boost in ability that comes with puberty, loss of virginity, fatherhood . . . No? You really ought to try experimenting."
"That is hardly the business of a . . . Native." Ohme had been around nearly constantly. Touching devotion, or more likely a desire to track Ebsa to find Ra'd. Or Azho. Whatever.
"Umm, wrong insult. I'm a Closey Upcomer Bastard, thank you very much."
Urfa glowered and tapped at his comp. "A two oh one Closey Bastard. Bad luck, eh?"
"Umm, not really. I'd hate to think what a nasty snob I might have turned into with a whole set." Ebsa looked innocent. "Much better to sneak up on high status through three or four generations, don't you think?"
Eggo sniffed and looked at Urfa. "You've all the test results on him and his clothes. It all agrees with what we'd expect from a dimensional traveler from the One World, right down to the implanted ID that gives him the top security rating. Including presidential access."
Urfa growled, and looked at the cops. "Put him someplace you can watch him, while I talk to some diplomats and bureaucrats about this Disco thing."
Eggo glanced at his watch again. "Dammit, I need to get back for the test."
Everyone sort of froze.
"Trying to destroy the world again?" The Interior guy sniffed. "We don't need gates."
"Yeah, not until Earth finds us again." Eggo stalked out.
In an uncomfortable silence, they handed in Ebsa's clothes and he dressed quickly, walked out. Eyed the table. "Comp? Comm?"
"We're still dissecting them."
Ebsa sighed. Reached for his wallet . . . much lighter by ID and the cash card. He shrugged and pocketed it. Strapped on the watch, hanky in the other back pocket. He shrugged into the suit coat, folded up the tie and pocketed it. Put the pencils and the pen in the shirt pocket and picked up the roll of antacids. Took two. Left the pocket lint.
The Interior fellow waved a pair of goons forward. Totally stereotyped, so probably a lot brighter than they looked.
"Utly and Wkde will . . . escort you to a place where you may remain comfortably. Try to leave without them, and we'll find a less comfortable place for you. Much less comfortable."
"Righto." Ebsa looked at the two men. Mouse brown hair and brown eyes in plain features. They were going to be hard to tell apart. "So, where we off to?"
A hotel. Ebsa looked toward a restaurant across from the front desk. "Dinner? Or are we into breakfast territory?" He glanced at his watch. Not quite midnight.
"Room service." Utly steered him toward the elevator.
"Righto."
So they think I'll take an opportunity to escape?
Ha! I need to stick around long enough to talk to government people. And perhaps they'll want to talk to Disco, So I can arrange that. Well, introduce them to Hackathorn and rush home to my bride, while other people do the arranging.
Sorry guys. My objectives and yours are at odds.
And I haven't a clue what I should do about Azho.
Chapter Five
The Morning After a Street Party
11 Jumada 1400 yp
Nick was quite familiar with hangovers. He'd drunk himself insensible more than once, after . . . after that nightmare flight from Makkah. Almost four years ago, now.
But this was a grownup hangover, with a bad attitude and a determination to stomp his brain into mush. In between stomps he remembered a hell of a party. He'd found a couple of drunks, offered them wine, some prostitutes had joined them, their pimp had stalked up and threatened them . . . Nick had decked him . . . then a dozen women had been laughing about it, more wine . . . and there'd been some Skinners . . . more women . . .
"That was not . . . " His voice trailed off in a whimper, and he whispered the rest. "Not how I'd envisioned losing my virginity. Well, maybe I imagined an orgy a couple of times before."
The doorway he was sitting in was littered with bottles. Once he'd had a sip of that treated wine, he'd told everyone to pour a little into every bottle . . . Hell, even the pimp had joined the party, once he'd been dosed.
There were plenty of snoring, groaning and puking bodies around. Half of them totally naked.
Good thing this is the part of town the police avoid.
He managed to get to his feet and start walking. Started crying. I had a fantastic party while my sister was dying! And it doesn't change anything. I'm still a Eunuch, still a wanted criminal, still a mass murderer.
And if Gamer is still alive, I'll need to come back here regularly and find people I recognize, study them to see what the wine has done.
And figure out what to do with Gamer, if . . . if there's a mental spell. Something that makes her dangerous to the rest of us.
He made it far enough out of the Red Zone to find a corner vendo. Bought water.
Amazing. I still have that cash card. No one lifted it last night? Guess the couple I hit made the rest . . . too happy drunk to worry about it. I sort of remember buying more wine a couple of times.
The really astounding thing is that I managed to keep my clothes on. In the dark no one saw . . . the scars. The lack. Even when I . . . I hadn't realized how good sex was.
He kept moving until he was a couple of blocks from home. Then he slipped into a shaded corner and leaned on the wall.
Abbas joined him a few minutes later. Sniffed. "You drunk, or just roll in a gutter for the fun of it?"
"Hungover. Anything?"
"Quiet as can be. The mothers are going to ream you. Karima slipped in to check Gamer. Said she was sitting and eating some nasty soup Umaya made."
"Right. Wait another hour. If the police aren't waiting for me to show . . ." Nick hesitated, then fetched out the cash card. "Go shopping."
Then he shoved off the wall and went in to face the music.
Gamer's face lit with relief . . . then dismay.
"You're . . . all right." Nick found himself on his knees beside her chair.
"Yes. What did you give me?" She leaned away, waving a hand through the air.
"Sorry. Umm . . . I'll go get cleaned up . . . "
"Drunk! What would your father say!" Umaya drew breath to continue . . .then shrank away from something she saw in his eyes.
Nick dredged up a smile for Gamer. "She's right. But it's mostly just a hangover now." He reached out and touched her.
"I'm real. Whatever that was healed me. Nick . . . go sleep. Tell me about it later." Her worried gaze followed him as he staggered back to his feet and into the little bathroom they all shared.
He shed clothes and climbed into the shower. Even the water hitting his scalp hurt. He made himself soap down and rinse before he gave up and headed for bed.
The early morning sun woke him.
The clothes he'd shed were washed and folded at the foot of the bed.
Abbas and Hakim were snoring in the next room. The four women shared the largest bedroom.
I won't be sorry to move again. Pity we have to stay in the city, but people notice us out in the country. If the gates still worked . . . if we could find a way through security to one of the smaller colonies, live off the land . . .
I hate being a thief.
The cash card was on top of the pile.
That man. Ebsa Clostuone. He looked at me and saw a friend. And if he is from another world, a close split? He must have a gate beacon, a place where they will pick him up. Could we get through it? All of us?
But then his One would take the younger boys, and that I won't allow.
Sleeping the clock around had cured the hangover, so he dressed and followed his nose to the kitchen.
Gamer grinned over her shoulder. "Did you really just throw a whole chicken and vegetables in the pot and walk out to get drunk?"
Nick looked into the pot. "Huh. Someone went and cut up my vegetables. And what about the chicken bones? Very nutritious; you lot ate them all already, didn't you?"
She snickered. "Yes, and this is all that's left." She dished out a bowl full and handed it to him. "You slept right through an earthquake, but no buildings collapsed here that I've heard. The Middle East and the West Coast of North America got hit a lot harder."
Nick hunched his shoulders. "I hate these quake swarms."
"Now tell me what that . . . medicine . . . was and where you got it."
He took a bite and chewed. "Huh. Ruined it with spices as well."
She just waited.
"I walked into an auto café for lunch. There was a man at a table. Dark hair, blue eyes. He spotted me and looked . . . relieved? Happy? I don't know. Like his best friend just walked in. Then he really looked at me . . . " He touched his ear, the old nick . . . He shoved back from the table and walked to the mirror. It was gone. A little patch of new pink skin, not the slightest dip in the curve of his ear.
He walked slowly back to the table. Stared at the soup and started talking. Ran out of soup about the same time he got to the part about going out the window. "Got away from the cops. Shopped, got a bottle of wine and . . ." Shrug.
"It worked. So . . . I'm betting you kept some before you went out . . . Why?"
"I thought I'd try it on some winos, see what happened."
She raised eyebrows.
"I didn't mean to drink any myself. But I got the wrong bottle and it just . . . knocked any common sense right out of my head. I bought more wine, hard liquor, we experimented with everything."
"We?"
"The winos, the tarts, some bag lady . . . there must have been a hundred people mixing drinks all over the street before I passed out." He felt his face heat.
"I suspect you're leaving out the indelicate parts?"
"Yes. You are much too young to know what an orgy is."
That made her laugh. But then she sobered. "We'd better wait a month and see if there are any adverse effects before we experiment any further. And . . . I'd better get back to work."
"You missed a week. I expect they'll tell you to get lost."
Snort. "No, they'll believe me. The factories always need people." She touched her face. "Once I get the bones molded back to . . . my disguise."
"You reverted fast. I wish I weren't so well known." Nick looked down at the cash card.
More money than we've had for months, and he just left it sitting on the table. Didn't even notice my sleight-of-hand picking it up.
I'll need to get back to work soon enough. Day jobs, cash pay, no questions. Construction, cleanup, whatever. Holding illusions all day. And when no one is hiring, theft.
But today I think I'll head back to the Red Zone.
Chapter Six
Earthquake
11 Jumada 1400 yp
"So . . . what was that about a test? I couldn't find any references to a new gate complex, or whether you'd found any of your colonies. Well, actually the colonies wouldn't have split, would they? But surely you've got a working gate again!"
Ebsa ignored their glares. Slid out of his coat and draped it over the back of a chair. Dumped his pockets on the desk, smoothed out the tie.
The he eyed the silent men.
"No gates? Holy One. What happened?"
The slightly shorter one shrugged. "Odd things happen when we fire up the gate."
"Umm, are you Utterly or Wicked?"
"Wkde." He pronounced it like Wick Dee.
"And I'm Utly." Slightly taller crossed his arms and glowered.
"Sure. What sort of odd things?" Ebsa kicked off his shoes.
"None of your business."
Ebsa sighed. "Well, why don't you order dinner? I'm going to take a shower."
He poked into a few cupboards. Nothing useful. He got glares from the guards.
He walked out in a towel to find steaks on the table and dug in. "Umm, umm. Nothing like a long day of interrogation to make ordinary vat meat delicious."
Then he kicked back in bed with the remote control and channel surfed for information. Paused at a lurid vid with a mad scientist laughing while lightning cracked all around. He threw a huge switch to much arcing and sound effects. A flash and sudden daylight flooded through a window. The mad scientist looked out over a peaceful green pasture, whitewashed village . . . "They'll never find me here!"
The remote was snatched from his hand. The screen died.
"Don't listen to that crap."
Ebsa eyed him. "Umm, if your weird stuff was anything that could possibly be misinterpreted as moving entire buildings around . . . "
Then the building shivered. Ebsa rolled off the bed, lost his footing for a second in what felt almost like low gravity . . . thudded down and stumbled to the window.
Still in Paris.
Really. Did I actually expect something else?
"Nice little earthquake . . . " He reached and flicked the lamp switch. Nothing. "Took the power out."
The guards swapped nervy glances.
Ebsa just climbed back into bed. "Well, see you in the morning, guys."
He slid into a meditative state, reached into the high mental frequencies and eavesdropped.
:: That was right when they were going to test the gate. ::
:: Stop it! We had gates for nearly two centuries before Granite Peak. Never a single report of something like this happening. ::
And from just a little further, probably the occupants of neighboring rooms, a low level fear.
And then clear and high, his teammate Azko, who was supposed to be camped out on the far side of Disco's gate, collecting electronic intel.
:: Ebsa? What the hell was that? ::
:: I was hoping it was just an earthquake. Were you on this side . . . ::
:: No, I was burning dinner when the gate flashed and everything shook. I'm across now, of course. The gate appears to be back to functioning normally. ::
:: That's not good. You have a comm relay all the way back home, right? Call Q and tell her we felt the quake on both worlds, and about the flash. Tell her that this One World has no working gates, and was going to test one right about when the quake hit. In the morning, when you've got good light, drive around and look for . . . I don't know what. Anything odd. ::
Mad Scientists' secret bases.
:: Right. You coming back? ::
:: No, I've encountered the forces of good and have them half convinced I'm good too. I might even manage to talk to someone in government if I just sit here and keep telling the truth. And if you come back through, watch out. There's a Ra'd on this side who's a wanted mass murderer, and apparently Qamar is so bad-assed she's got a kill-on-sight order out for her. ::
:: Qamar? The mind boggles. ::
:: Yes. Now get. ::
:: Yes, boss. ::
Then the clear communications were gone, and only the worried nigglings of his guards remained. Ebsa shut them out and slept. Woke up when the power came back on and the lights came on.
Both guards scowled at him.
"Look guys, I'm sorry. But I really need to make some useful contacts in your government. Later, I promise to make a daring escape and lead you through the labyrinth of the slums to the Evil Villain's secret headquarters, all right?"
