The Exorcism


IV: Stubbornness


"Chairman Cahartez, please cease operations immediately!"

Holly glowered at the bellowing Root, his face an exquisite shade of purple. She tugged at the sleeve of his uniform, trying to get him to not make them all sound like the roguish and violently barbaric fools the Council secretly made the LEP out to be. Luckily for her, Chairman Cahartez was not a similarly hot-tempered elf. Acting as if he hadn't just been charged by an angry bull troll (or screamed at by Root – both usually had the same effect), he calmly smiled and said, "Ah, Commander Root! How nice of you to come! We have been anticipating your arrival."

As Trouble tried to untruss Foaly, Cahartez continued to explain the situation. "We've found a significant magic signature right below the South Pole. Triangulation by our expert warlocks have placed it about 2 kilometers below the ice. Right now, we are using displacement spells to move the ice out of the hole. Bit by bit we are excavating a central shaft, through which two or three elves might be able to descend and retrieve the Antarctica original."

"Right. Has anybody told you the humans are coming?"

Root shouted so loud, the entire fairy camp heard him. At first they were silent. Then a lone sprite started laughing, and everyone soon understood what they thought the commander's purpose was. They would have rolled on the floor laughing, if the floor wouldn't freeze them on impact. A few of the more daring ones clapped. Root's face would have glowed ultraviolet if it could. Holly continued tugging ever more fervently at her effervescent commander's sleeves.

"Wait." Foaly had finally gotten free of his harness. "Tell me, have your displacement spells been working as effectively as you planned?"

"Um... no."

"Why displacement spells? Why not just use dwarves or conventional digging techniques?" Trouble interrupted.

"That's because," Cahartez said, irritated, "we don't want too much of a trace to be left. Besides, dwarves can't ingest anything below negative 25 degrees Celsius without taking internal injury."

"And why are we here?"

"To guard us, of course. If the - " here he suppressed a giggle, " - humans come."

"Yeah, I get it. Foaly?"

"As I was saying. Tell me, Chairman, have your spells been working at full efficiency? Or even 80 percent?"

"Strangely, they've only been working at about 45-65 percent of theoretical limits."

"And why is that?" Foaly asked gently, nudging them to the same conclusion Root was reaching with his tremulous bellows.

"Because of the cold, I guess. Right?"

"Not really true. If you remember the legends, San D'Klass had his base at the North Pole. His mages weren't affected by the cold."

"Hmm... that's right."

"Chairman, your magic is being bleached."

That,no one laughed at.

"What?"

"I repeat," Foaly said gently, "your magic is being bleached."

"But... how? This is the time of perpetual night at the Pole, is it not?"

"Yes, there is no visible solar radiation. But at the South Magnetic Pole, charged solar particles are attracted into the Earth's magnetosphere and excite the molecules of the air. The aurora australis. Some of the particles with lower ionization effects get into the lower atmosphere. Both the aurora and the other solar particles are bleaching your advanced shield magic, as well as your displacement spells."

"So? Our warlocks are very strong. They wouldn't be affected by such a weak radiation effect."

"No, they would be too busy casting the spell to notice that their spells are slowly unraveling. The spells aren't negated outright, but weakened and confined. These are our predicted results which would be detected by the nearby research stations."

Foaly handed technical reports to Cahartez and Root. "These are only increases of about two or three percent. Would it be noticeable?"

"It's true that these fluctuations are within an expectable range. They can be explained by natural processes. But what would alert them is the placement of the anomalies. They are well-ordered, occupying strategic places. Even the Mud Men, stupid as they are, would naturally conclude that there is other intelligent life working on the South Pole."

"Hmm... what shall we do?"

"If I were you, I'd pack up and go look for some other original which is easier to extricate."

"We will... confer."

With that, Cahartez walked off, Root on his tail. Trouble sighed. "The Council think they are such damn geniuses. Truth is, without the Mud Men threats prodding them they've grown rusty. Slow. What would they do without us LEP?"