SPATIAL DELIVERY
Captain Kromm snapped his fingers and pointed at Comm Specialist Hill. All was quiet on the bridge of the BASILISK. Kromm's freighter sat motionless in space, a quarter million miles distant from the asteroid belt known as Port Eclipse. The Catyrian pilot waited quietly for a response. Hill was human and his fingers drummed on top of his bridge station as his mind sifted through the options displayed by his Headjack HUD. He instructed the computer to scan all frequencies and find any transmitting in a repeating loop. Moments later he had what the captain was looking for.
"Beacon acquired, sir."
Standing behind Kromm was an average sized human, the proverbial well-dressed man, sporting merchant garb and staring out of the BASILISK's cockpit with the bridge crew. As a rule outsiders and non-crewmembers were forbidden to enter the bridge of of the BASILISK, but this was no ordinary fellow. The Super-Spy commanded mystic powers and keeping him off the bridge amounted to posting signs on trees and fire hydrants to keep dogs away. So Kromm had invited him in, mainly because he wanted him there.
"Transmit codes." Unlike his opposites in the Spacing Guild, Kromm didn't bark out commands, instead preferring to operate with his crew on a personal level. Comm Specialist Hill did so and nodded back.
Within a minute the dark void in front of the merchant runner began to shimmer, its tint lightening from the empty nothingness of space into a bluish-white storm of pulsing, flashing light. Kromm and his crew had seen it before, but it was still mesmerizing.
"Spectacular!" murmured the Super-Spy. Aldo Hetter rubbed the goose-bumps on his arms, a physical reaction to the presence of mystic energy, something he normally only felt on planets, like Center on Phase World. He'd heard that Port Eclipse's leaders were Spatial Mages but had never really understood what that meant, and had never witnessed its handiwork. Someone had learned to channel the ambient energy of a solar system and put it to use, on demand no less, something the magic-using Super-Spy could never do, or ever hope to accomplish.
Shifting position, Hetter patted Kromm's shoulder as they watched the wormhole form a few miles distant. It was a huge oval, easily 1500 feet across at its zenith.
"Signal from the beacon sir, all clear."
Kromm adjusted himself and instructed his own Vehicle Link Headjack to engage the sublight contragrav thrusters. Moments later the BASILISK was swallowed up by the gigantic magical portal.
* * * * *
The BASILISK emerged at the other end of the wormhole dropping out of the magical corridor into the harsh light of a Blue Dwarf star several AU away. A massive planet sat in between, some 100,000 miles distant.
"Sensors?" Kromm asked.
"Clear sir," replied Hill. "No ships, satellites or radiation of any kind, save for what's coming from the main star."
"This is Varo?" asked Hetter. Kromm grunted an acknowledgement. He and his crew had been here ten days ago, transporting a cargo hold full of lumber for a local company based in the Trade Worlds. Kromm focused his attention and the main screen shifted so that the Super-Spy could see the small-scale galactic map. Port Eclipse was some 400+ light years from the frontier of Warlock space, which held Varo. The wormhole made them neighbors.
Magical considerations aside, what interested Aldo Hetter was the same thing that interested Captain Kromm and his crew: money.
As a frontier world on the outer edges of Warlock space, the planet was vulnerable to those who might exploit it. Varo was a large body, some 12,000 miles in diameter and with a mean temperature of 85 degrees farenheit, a veritable greenhouse world. The High King's Court had opened the planet up for development to five clans of Star Elves, from the neighboring system of Grennock, who in turn opened the world up to cruise lines coming through the wormhole at Port Eclipse and other merchants. In addition to growing and marketing foodstuffs and lumber, the planet had a modest tourist industry, with the elves building a resort lodge in the high latitudes of the northern hemisphere to offset the planet's normally hot climes. The BASILISK had arrived on the last trip, passed through the laughable planetary security (the honor system), undergone a customs inspection and then had flown over to the planet's lumber point, taking on 190 tons of timber, before returning to the Trade Worlds. The elves charged for access to the planet, as well as for the lumber. The cost of transport to the Trades and selling of the resource was good enough to warrant a regular run by the speculator that had hired Kromm's ship.
However, Kromm, who'd done his share of smuggling, had analyzed the situation. He already possessed access codes for the wormhole and knew where the lumber was on the planet. With the right connections, the kind that Hetter had access to, the BASILISK could slip into the Varo system and pick up cargoes, and transport them back to the Trades, without paying anything, making it a straight profit operation. Of course it wasn't quite that simple. There were planetary considerations, like getting the lumber, and time constraints of transport. But Aldo Hetter, who specialized in industrial espionage, had all the right contacts for this type of venture.
The bridge door slid open and the BASILISK's chief trader stepped in.
"Are we there?" asked Jovel Ydr. The Atlantean Nomad had been with the ship and Kromm for nearly six years, running cargo all about the sector and then some. He stared out the cockpit at the planet lit by the system's star and consulted the cockpit's travel chronograph. "Right on schedule."
"And no Cosmo-knights," snickered Hetter. "Well, so far anyway," alluding to an unfortunate setback the BASILISK endured a few years back.
Kromm turned, shot the Super-Spy a weak smile and exchanged a glance with Jovel. As a minor psionic, the Atlantean was charged with keeping a leash on the magic-wielder, or at least keeping him within sight.
"Plot a course for Varo." Kromm informed the auto-nav unit. It took a few seconds. "Estimated arrival time 13 hours, twenty seven minutes."
"That's a long time," said Hetter, "I hope nothing comes in behind us."
Jovel tapped the Super-Spy, "No use in our remaining here. Perhaps you'd like to see the time-table and financial projections I've prepared."
It wasn't a question, but Aldo grunted none the less and the pair left the bridge for the chief trader's cabin.
"Bastard," groaned Hill once Hetter had left.
Kromm got up to stretch his legs while the autopilot took them in.
"Unfortunately he's got a point. I hope we're not spotted either."
* * * * *
"The forest primeval," commented Aldo Hetter.
Kromm, Ydr, Hill and the Super-Spy stood on a ridge over looking a massive expanse of rugged terrain. The landscape was covered with dense forest as far as the eye could see.
Each man took turns wiping the perspiration from his face; it was warm and the absence of wind heightened the humidity. Each was armed too. Before leaving the BASILISK, Kromm had passed out sidearms to everyone since there was no telling what sort of wildlife might be around.
Hetter trod downslope and into the trees, with the others following. Originally the Super-Spy had thought the Atlantean's projections had been far too optimistic. Now, after seeing the virgin expanse of woods first hand, he was thinking they might be conservative. Of course his contacts at Unified Products could sort it out quickly. It also meant they'd take the biggest share of the profits.
The silence of the place was periodically broken by the calling of birds and other animals.
"You're right captain," said Hetter, tapping his sidearm. "Gods only know what kind of predators are here." The unknown added another dimension to the risk of the venture.
"Nothing but small creatures so far," replied Hill.
Kromm's Comm Specialist was carrying a hand-comp that was controlling a small surveillance drone flying overhead. The unit's camera was relaying a video feed as it flew, recording their visit for eventual distribution. Unified wasn't interested in fairy tales and the documentation would be very persuasive. Hill switched the feed to FLIR which could find heat sources easily enough in the daylight. Lifeforms abounded in the eco-system, revealing the same sort of fauna common to hundreds of habitable worlds. Hetter studied the readout and nodded, but the Super-Spy knew it wasn't near enough for Unified. Of course they'd make their own study. Place a survey platform in orbit, map the area and draw their own conclusions, something they'd done on dozens of planets.
Hetter reached up and snapped off a branch from a nearby tree. The noise sounded like a gunshot but died fast.
Again the quiet of the area permeated everything. Hetter's mind envisioned a clearing, a modular factory being dropped from orbit and two dozen workers in exoskeletons felling trees, planing them down and stockpiling saleable goods round the clock, while a small fleet of independent freighters travelled to and from Varo via the wormhole, making pickups at the loading zone and heading back, selling the cargoes in the Trades. Eventually, over time, the glut of lumber would lower prices, but by that time they'd each have a nice piece of change and Unified a handsome profit.
"I'm impressed gentlemen, quite impressed."
The group retreated up the slope to a shelf-like outcropping of rock where the BASILISK's twin hovercycles were parked.
"How much was lumber going for in Trades?" Hetter asked the Atlantean. The Super-Spy's mind was racing ahead now. Jovel told him. The Atlantean's number gave this venture a potential of an 8-figure deal, most of it profit. It was certainly worth pursuing.
Hill retreived his spy-drone.
The men boarded the hovercycles and flew back to the BASILISK, grounded in the lowlands a few miles away. They'd make a few more stops like they'd just made.
Several hours of video would force Unified to consider the deal.
* * * * *
And consider it they did.
Unified's Resource Acquisition Division laughed at the way the elves were harvesting the lumber. Sure, cutting down trees in exoskeletons and using vibro-saws was conservationally sound, but ridiculously slow to a high-tech company of Unified's capabilities. RAD had access to TDX (Two Dimensional Explosive); a demolitionist's dream. The explosive force of the detonation was channelled horizontally, perpendicular to gravity. While the elves felled trees one by one, the explosive could fell 20 or more at a time, as though they were wielding a giant scythe which, in turn, would reap big profits. Planetary radar mapping could identify prime areas to harvest, a botany team to make sure the lumber was of worthwhile quality, and a demolitions team to lay charges. The down-time of the whole operation was retreiving and planing the trees and of course, transport. Unified claimed they could clear a 1 square mile area per day or 7 square miles per week. Production estimates pegged the operation running for 6 months, straight, day in, day out. It would involve relief crews, supplies, guards and backup equipment.
The logistics were mind-boggling to the uninitiated, but routine for Unified.
And so began the plunder of Varo. For seven and half months, men came and went, whole forests of trees were taken and sold in the Trades.
Overall, the huge planet suffered very little. But certain areas were devastated. 225 square miles of forest vanished in the remote regions of the planet. Wildlife retreated and the eco-system changed unnaturally, forced to adapt at the change in the environment and the sudden absence of forest.
And so it continued, until...
NINE MONTHS LATER
EASTERN CONTINENT OF VARO
3:25 PM
"Pilot, where are we?" asked the Star Elf.
The contragravity shuttle flew two hundred and sixty feet above the eastern continent. Prander Kant was one of the planetary administrators of the Fescher clan, and he was charged with identifying and developing portions of the planet for the Court of the High King.
Since there was no GPS, the pilot read back the coordinates from the inertial navigation system. These corresponded to a grid system setup from the last survey, done twenty years ago.
Prander's brow dropped. Below, as the speeder passed over the ground, he saw a wide swath of forest missing. Nothing but tree stumps for miles and miles.
"Pilot, can you turn back and set down?"
The pilot acknowledged and brought the craft's inertial dampers on line. It slowed to a hover while he located a suitable spot to land.
The pilot, Prander and his Iborian secretary deplaned.
Where they stood had been a forest once, now nothing more than a forest of stumps.
"Matra, call up the logging records." The Iborian complied. A quick check of the hand-comp showed the only authorized logging operations were far to the southwest. This area should be intact.
Culverts and gullies broke the ground periodically as the missing trees and vegetation which normally shielded the earth from the humid planet's frequent rains were gone. Portions of the area were now a convoluted maze of erosion.
Prander cancelled the rest of his duties for the day. He headed back to his shuttle then sent a radio message requesting a meeting of the clan leaders that were administering Varo for the High King. Perhaps they could shed light on this disturbing development.
The hearings lasted well into the night, but no one knew how or why the forests of the eastern continent were being plundered. So the clan leaders commissioned Prander to find out.
The task seemed impossible. Even if he mobilized every member of every clan on the planet, along with all the tourists and workers at the lodge, it was still impossible.
Then he remembered something which sparked an idea.
THE NEXT DAY
PORT ECLIPSE
INNER CITY
6:45 PM
The Institute of Spatial Magick's Central Codex bore a cathedral-like atmosphere.
It's 50 foot ceiling was
supported by a bevy of thick columns, fronted by an eloborate facade and engraved
with chisled likenesses of its founder, his family crest and several mythological
beings. The Codex had a dozen wings, each holding the collected works of a different
field of magic: from Celestial Magery to Celestial Shifter and Diabolist; and
of course, Spatial Magic. Some were larger than others as portions of the collection
grew and was added to the Codex's Main Archive. However the books, manuscripts
and other assembled items of interest that were placed inside the hallowed walls
of the Codex were never to be examined by the student body. Only the heads of
departments and those specifically detailed to handle the arcane stores -- often
singular works of a lifetime -- saw the originals. Instead, each was housed
and protected by the Codex's vault-like stasis system, the gift of a friendly
Temporal Wizard to preserve each item for eternal posterity. Instead, a careful,
intricate series of magical effects allowed each of the items to be accessed
by anyone with the proper permission at any time through the Codex's Nano-Copier.
An adjunct to the Codex's Central Room was a study hall, dotted with a half-dozen
apprentice mages of various classes. Most were reading. A few were sleeping.
Corvus Auctor stood next to the Nano-Copier, reviewing it's holographic menu.
The Nano-Copier was a booth built next to the Archive Bot's front desk. One
didn't wander about the Codex, willy-nilly, grabbing books, allowing them to
be placed out of order or defaced by young mages in training under the influence
of hormonal imbalances, stimulants or alcohol. One requested the particular tome one
required from the Archive Bot at the desk and the Nano-Copier built a duplicate
copy.
"Computer, retrieve LaShock's Megaversal Differentials and Practical Relativity,"
Corvus said, hoping this was what he needed. Corvus had already graduated from
the Institute as a Spatial Mage. So far, all the males in his family had become
Spatial Mages, he was the latest. They were still all alive too, thanks to his
great grandfather's assault on a Gene Tech space station. Using data and samples recovered
from the laboratory, and alchemists recruited from the UWW, Cephus Auctor had
created a longevity formula and a form of immortality. The result was a knighthood
bestowed by the High King himself, and an immediate line of prospective buyers.
Corvus was doing his second-year, postgraduate work, concentrating on Realm
Construction since he hadn't built his own yet. It was tedious and exacting
work. He scanned the menu again. He'd already been through Mandelbrot's "Fractal
Algorithms", Steair Waverly's "Quantum Progressions and Compressions",
and Haverstock's "Dimensional Co-Efficients."
A soft light flashed in the Nano-Copier and it filled with a vaporous cloud. The
vapor cleared momentarily and a book sat in the holding space. Corvus' shoulders
dropped, LaShock's work wouldn't do. He was getting nowhere. At least in a traditional
library you could see how big a work was. The summaries on the holo-menus didn't
list page counts. He skimmed down the menu list and tried in order: Alvike's
"Exploitable Loopholes in the Laws of Thermo-Dynamics" and "The Journal
of Vacuum Science and Technology." Each time the existing book would disappear
in the opaque cloud as the Nano-Copier cannibalized it for raw materials before
turning it into the requested volume.
Nope. None were what he wanted.
In addition to being required reading for the Institute's Spatial Mages, each
book was physically similar in appearance: two to three inches thick, heavy
binding and lots of small print. Close, but not what Corvus needed. He scrolled
to the next page of the display, his eye catching on "Experimental Philosophy
in Quantum Theory and Practice", then finally noticing Homlak's "Interspatial
Flexures: Big and Small."
This had potential. Homlak was someone his grandfather had known and respected.
He'd been someone who had spent nearly all his life researching, practicing
and refining the art and science known as Spatial Magic.
He instructed the computer to retrieve Homlak. When it appeared, a smile blossomed
on his face.
It was said that apprentice mages of the Institute for Spatial Magicks were
demi-gods in-training. The knowledge they learned and eventually would command
was mind boggling and the amount of information contained in Homlak's book supported
that particular perspective.
The book was five inches thick, and printed in single-spaced, seven point font.
It even contained illustrations, fold-out charts and graphs twice as big as
the pages inside the books. It's logic was so detailed and all-absorbing that
it even came with it's own introductory data-chit.
"This one," he said to the archive-bot. The robot's eye-sensor rotated and an
infrared beam shot out and performed a retina scan on the young man.
The unit's synthesized voice followed:
"Identification confirmed: Corvus Auctor, 21, graduate student of Spatial Magicks.
Loan approved for six weeks." After which time the book's molecular cohesion
would dissolve. "Have a nice evening."
With a grunt, Corvus heaved the book off the shelf, swung it under his arm and
left, nodding to the archive-bot on his way out.
He hustled down the steps of the Central Codex, holding his breath at the curb
until a flying car landed.
"Took your time...ugh!" Corvus complained and tossed the huge book unceremoniously
into the backseat. His best friend Parlan, an IT worker at Port Eclipse, was in
the pilot's seat.
"Yeah, well I went up to watch the sun set and got caught up in the view."
"What's her name?"
"Lorenda. Freshman at the Celestial Mage Academy. I spotted her yesterday
on a campus field trip."
"I'll bet. Last one was blonde, so this one's got to be brunette."
"Good thing you're enrolled in Spatial Magicks, 'cause prophesy ain't your thing.
She's got black hair and green-green eyes."
Corvus bounced his eyebrows, but it didn't register on his friend. Parlan seemed
happily oblivious.
"And? -- WHAT I ASKED YOU TO BRING," complained Corvus after a short silence.
The young IT man's eidetic memory kicked in. "Uh, glove box."
Corvus snapped it open. Inside was a hand-sized laser scalpel.
"You're truly a friend," he said, snapping the scalpel's beam on and examining
it.
The flying car rose a few hundred feet and circled towards the bright lights
in the center of town.
"Hey, if it gets back to your father about all this..."
"Don't worry, he's waaay too busy and I've got plenty of time this semester.
I just need to unwind for the weekend, get away from it all. I've been seeing
Dimensional Co-Efficients in my sleep. I've all next week to catch-up. Besides,
you know nothing ever happens around here."
Parlan's flying car dove down and hovered before settling on the eighth-story
landing shelf of the Auctor Tower; the building that dominated the entire Inner
City.
"Thanks again!" called Corvus, shouldering the heavy load and cursing himself
for not learning Featherlight as one of his initial spells. He watched his friend
fly off, then called the elevator to take him to his family's residence.
Inside, he grunted a hello to his father and their live-in servant and wrestled
the book into his room, closing the door behind him with his foot. He concentrated
momentarily with his Spatial Senses, smiled when he realized his father was
consumed with Projection Mechanics and centered Homlak carefully on the table,
before running his finger down a half-inch on the side and thumbing open the
book.
From his nightshirt hanging on his bedpost he pulled a pair of archaic looking
journals from a Dimensional Pocket; these were much thinner and smaller and
frail-looking than Homlak's monstrous work. He located a felt pen and carefully
traced around the journal's edge, forming a box upon the face of the open page,
then removed it.
With a click the laser scalpel engaged and he burned a three-inch deep hole
into the textbook and carved out the leftovers. The pages smoldered and a quick
conjuring blew out the flames and sucked the smoke outside through a Mystic
Portal. He dropped the worn journals inside, carefully, where they fit snugly.
He closed Homlak and examined it from a few feet back -- everything looked normal
-- perfect. If anyone came in unexpected they'd think he was studying.
Corvus had serious research ahead of him this weekend: the Journals of Lazareth
Vesper -- Genesis Omega, Hero of Wormwood; which he'd picked up from a traveller
in Port Eclipse yesterday.
It was going to be good weekend.
ECLIPSE STATION
6th LEVEL
VARO BROKERAGE COMPANY
11:10 AM
Thump, thump, thump.
Doka Fen looked up from the file cabinet where she stood examining printouts.
She glanced back at the plas-steel window and door of her office. Smushed against
it was the face of an Anvil Dwarf she'd met last weekend.
She felt a headache coming on.
The dwarf smiled and twiddled his fingers, then left.
Doka exhaled in relief. She thought he was going to come in. She thanked the
elder gods she'd reported him to security.
Last weekend at the Starlight Room, a popular nightclub at Eclipse Station,
the elven woman had been relaxing with her co-worker, her sister. As members
of the Fescher clan they'd been tasked with running the Varo Brokerage Company
at the port. Here they sold access licenses to ship owners, transport companies
and found markets for Varo's goods in the Trade Worlds. Anyway, Doka and her
sister had been enjoying the night life when the dwarf appeared. Doka was good
looking enough to attract men, something that wasn't new to her. Some didn't
take no for an answer. When the dwarf introduced himself she'd silently been
grateful that there weren't more chairs at her table. In the blink of an eye
the dwarf had found a suitable stool and invited himself to their little party.
She found out later he was a conjurer -- and used his nimble hands to grope
her under the table so badly that she left, sicking security on him. She'd been
careful all week, as she remembered seeing him around Eclipse Station, where
she worked and lived.
Now the little runt knew where her office was.
"Was that who I thought it was?" her sister, Chana asked.
"Yes. Little pervert."
Beep, beep, beep.
It was the computer.
"What's the name of that equipment store on the 3rd level?"
"Hallum Surplus & Supply," Chana called back.
"Hopefully they're having a sale on stunners," she said as she took her seat
at the console.
The comm-window popped up. It was a secure comm-call from the clan's office
on Varo.
She keyed the password sequence quickly. The face of Prander Kant appeared.
"Prander. This is unusual..." She spoke in the Fescher dialect of Dragonese.
"Yes, I'm afraid something's come up." Prander explained the situation. He also
explained he wanted Doka and her sister to gain an audience with Sir Cephus
Auctor and ask him if he could help. The clans of Varo hadn't the means to conduct a planetary
survey, but as chief landlord of Port Eclipse, Sir Cephus Auctor rented space to the CAF Discovery Corps, who did
this type of work routinely. Surely Sir Cephus would want to assist subjects
of the High King?
Doka almost choked.
"But, no one's seen the man in years. He's a recluse."
"Yes, but you have to try."
"What'll I offer him in return?"
"Anything. Anything within our grasp. His stature in the system is monumental.
I'm sure talking to the Discovery Corps on our behalf isn't beyond all reason."
"But..."
"Doka, it must be done!" and Prander signed off.
Chana stepped over to examine her sister, whose pale face was staring off into
space.
"What was that all about?"
Doka told her. Even Chana had to sit down.
The pair sat in silence for almost five minutes.
"I know!" yelled Chana.
"Wwwwhat?"
"Your boyfriend. The dwarf. Remember him bragging about being able to enter
the Inner City with his friend the Wulfen Shifter?" Chana pointed at the smudged
door and winked.
Doka thought back, "Yes." But her horrified mind cried "No. No. NO!"
The elven beauty felt her headache coming back.
INNER CITY
INSTITUTE OF SPATIAL MAGICKS
9:50 PM
Corvus Auctor's attention was on Wormwood as he left the Darada Pavillion. The
last night course of the week meant a nice long weekend for the young mage.
Within a few hours he'd be relaxing in his room, sipping a cold one and be well
into the first half of Genesis Omega.
"Pssst. Hey...kid."
The summons issued from a dwarf standing at the end of the paved walkway. Corvus
stared at the man momentarily, then made to leave.
"Pssst."
Corvus stopped and looked back. The dwarf was motioning for him to come over.
The young mage enhanced his Spatial Senses and moved towards him. In the
background could hear a whispering female voice and could smell the scent of
a Wulfen.
"Yeah, buddy," said the dwarf, "I wanna..."
The dwarf's face drooped as the area around Corvus' cloak bent and flexed, before
swallowing him whole.
"Damn!" the dwarven conjurer, Tatz Dubad, swung his clenched fist. Doka had
made it clear she wouldn't have anything to do with him until they met with
the Auctors. Tatz had seen the kid about before, but since he wasn't a resident
of the Inner City, the locals were a bit untrusting of him. The dwarf turned
to speak to his Wulfen friend and the two elven maidens, when his face lit up
like a flare.
Standing silently behind them was Corvus Auctor.
"WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?"
The Spatial Mage's tone was loud, which took the group by surprise.
"Young man," explained the Wulfen, after recovering. "Don't you know it's not
polite to sneak up on people."
Corvus was flabbergasted. "You of all sentients are worried about furtiveness?"
The Wulfen, Brekal, was a Shifter and like many of his profession he'd made
a pact with a greater being, in his case a supernatural intelligence. It wasn't
demonic or even evil, it simply knew things most didn't. Like how to enter the
Spatial Realm of the Auctors when no one else could and how to mask his presence
and those with him.
"Ah, well, I learned many years ago not to be surprised by the power of magic."
Corvus chuckled, "And yet you were."
"Touche," the Wulfen acknowledged the young human's point with his thick walking
stick, like the scorer at a sporting match. It was Brekal's turn to chuckle.
The mood lightened considerably.
"The Wulfen Shifter," began Corvus. "He who goes where others fear to tread."
He walked around the group then looked into Brekal's eyes. "You know, you've
been the topic of several discussions among the underclassmen. There's many
theories floating about how you do what you do."
Brekal's eyes widened and a small smile crept over his face as an air of flattery
overtook him.
Corvus continued: "The most popular theory is that you've read Alvike's Exploitable
Loopholes in the Laws of Thermo-Dynamics, or know someone who has, and have
utilized them to effect entry into this extradimensional realm."
"Really?" the Wolfen composed himself. "Well, I must confess I'm unfamiliar
with Alvike and his loopholes and know of no one who has even heard of him --
present company excluded. However I am familiar with another theoritician, named
Murphy, whose main postulate permeates throughout every possible dimension and
applies directly to the security magic of Spatial Magic Realms, namely that:
what can go wrong, will."
"Touche," replied a smiling Corvus Auctor, adding, "For some reason I don't
think you've come to debate me on dimensional theorems."
Brekal introduced them all, one by one, explaining that the elves were in need
of a favor, which only the Auctor's could provide.
"Forget it," said Corvus after he found out the request had not come from the
High King himself.
The answer landed like punches in each woman's stomach.
"I'm afraid my great grandfather Cephus Auctor is virtually impossible to see.
Even I only see him on birthdays and at the odd family gathering. He's a bitter
old man. He won't even teach me spells anymore."
"And the other's in your family?" asked Doka, grasping at straws.
"It's doubtful. Grandpa Cyngus would be sympathetic but I'm not sure your plight
would interest him. Besides he's somewhere in the ThunderCloud searching for
rare minerals. Lacerta, another powerful Spatial Mage is with him. Next would
be my father Midas, but he's tied up mastering Projection Mechanics of the Fourth
Dimension and is incommunicado as well."
"Alas," said Brekal, trying to end the elven women's disappointing meeting.
"But..." said Corvus unexpectedly, sensing an opportunity. The young man had
resigned himself to going home and curling up with Genesis Omega. His mind wandered:
What would Lazarus Vesper do in this situation? Certainly not just sit idly
by!
"Yes?" the two elves asked in unison, their hopes rising.
"I am an Auctor and am not without my own special, shall we say...facilities."
Silence. Neither sister moved, save for blinking their eyes.
The Wulfen raised a clawed hand, "I believe that's FACULTIES," he whispered
behind his fingers.
"Uh, yes, faculties."
Silence, until Brekal spoke up, "Well, seeing as how there's very little options
left to you ladies..."
More silence, before they reluctantly agreed.
"Shall we say 8 AM tomorrow morning, at the Frosted Rings Donut establishment
on Eclipse Station? I like to start the day with a cup of their expresso."
The two elves exchanged empty glances.
The fabric of reality around Corvus Auctor bent and flexed again, swallowing
up the Spatial Mage; the Mystic Portal carried him 800 feet away into the parking
lot.
The young man bent down and clenched his fist, "Yes!"
He'd return home, skim over Lazarus Vesper for inspiration and ideas...but first
he needed to make a few stops for equipment.
VARO STARPORT
OFFICE OF THE FESCHER CLAN ADMINISTRATOR
6:12 PM
While Doka and her sister attended to gaining assistance on Port Eclipse, Prander
had to prepare for eventualities on Varo.
Even if the Discovery Corps were to come and help them locate any outsiders
on the planet, they wouldn't intervene. This was a matter that had to be handled
by the clans. It was also a matter that brought up a sore point for Prander.
Most of the clans had security people but they were not soldiers. Prander's
older brother Harker, had been a soldier in the service of the High King for
three centuries. Unfortunately the nature of violence and killing took its toll
on the Psi-Warrior, so much so that he began falling to berserk rages and vicious
killing sprees taking no prisoners and offering no quarter. His judgement was
impaired which forced the elf into retirement. It took a while, but Harker soon
found peace in working for the clan administering Varo, a job he'd been performing
for the past 143 years. Harker still maintained a few contacts with his old
troop. Those that hadn't died continued on, but others also left, tired of war,
and the life of a soldier.
It pained Prander but he had to turn to Harker for assistance. Any intruders
would need to be dealt with. The reputation of the clan also forced Prander's
hand. To bring in outsiders meant to court ruin.
His brother, Harker, entered his office.
"I really didn't want to do this. I want you to understand if there were another
way..."
"I can handle it. It's been a long time though, I mean for being at peace,"
the Psi-Warrior explained to his brother.
"The good thing is that we're not at war with anyone. We just need to protect
our property."
Harker snickered, "That may be, but you must understand our opponents may not
feel that way. War is about perceptions and making sure yours are not clouded
by the immaterial. War is objective, but subjects the participants to many types
of emotions and experiences, which of course aren't."
Prander hadn't heard his brother wax philosophical in years. While not a recluse,
he simply offered very little in the way of conversation. Apparently the fighting
spirit was still in him, though tempered by the passage of time. He hoped so
anyway.
"How will you approach it?"
"Ah, well let me tell you the instinct hasn't died -- and won't as long as I
live. I may have changed my ways but I assure you I still think in terms of
a soldier. However, I do share your views. We are not at war with whoever is
plundering our preserve. I will take a hunting party and begin scouting the
last few plundered areas we've discovered. But once we find who has done this,
I cannot say it will be a simple negotiation. Circumstance will dictate action,
to us and to our opponents. The result is what shall be."
This made Prander nervous. The elder elf's matter-of-fact attitude. The clansman
was unsure if it would simply push him back to the horrid place he'd been rescued
from.
Was the loss of his brother equal to the reputation of his clan? Prander corrected
himself: the reputation of five clans.
It wasn't, but would have to be.
THE NEXT MORNING
VARO STARPORT
6:55 AM
"Why Magus Auctor, I can't tell you how honored we are to receive you," Prander
announced.
The shuttle carrying Corvus Auctor and Brekal had just made planetfall and the
pilot had called down to the Varo starport with information on his passengers.
The unexpected arrivals took Prander completely by surprise.
"Please call me Corvus."
Prander wondered why hadn't Doka notified him of this development. They'd obviously
contacted Sir Cephus Auctor and the man had sent his own son as envoy. Of
course the elf had no way of knowing Doka and her sister were in the middle
of a drunken blitz with a dwarven conjurer, prelude to facing the reality that
their inability to gain the help needed by Prander would end their careers.
That and the fact that the dwarf was actually fun.
"My name is Brekal," the Wulfen introduced himself. The merchant-mage glanced
about the tiny starport. Little more than a short expanse of tarmac, a simple
two-story tower and a few buildings. Typical frontier fare.
"And you represent the Auctors...in what capacity?"
"I'm in the import/export business my dear boy," explained the Wulfen.
This only caused Prander more confusion.
"I've never scouted this territory, never travelled here. I understand you export
foodstuffs as well as lumber."
Prander was thoroughly confused. He'd been hoping the Wulfen was with the Discovery
Corps and the word "scout" struck a momentary chord with him. The rest silenced
it.
Brekal sensed the elf's dismay by his look. He stepped away, herding the clan
leader with him and spoke in a lowered voice.
"I'm afraid Sir Cephus is a bit reluctant to move hastily," explained Brekal.
He and Corvus had decided on this plan of action during the shuttle ride over.
Well, Brekal had anyway. Corvus had spent most of the trip reading Genesis Omega,
but had conceded the well-travelled, silver-tongued Wulfen should do the majority
of the talking -- especially after Brekal had promised to accompany him to Wormwood...someday.
Prander held back his frustration before it surfaced on his face. He'd expected
Sir Cephus Auctor to be a man of decisive action. He'd expected a "yes" or "no"
not a "we'll see." However the differences in civilizations had formed a gulf
between elves and humans since the two cultures had first met, eons ago. Why one
did what it did still was an issue even among the adjusted citizens of the UWW.
And would continue to be.
The pair stopped and returned to where Corvus stood.
"How gracious of Sir Cephus. We're thankful for his consideration." Prander
decided to remain optimistic. Perhaps the old coot was having problems with
the CAF. Besides, his brother couldn't assemble a team of his old adventuring
buddies for another week.
"I'd like to be briefed on what has happened and where. My shuttle can take
us anywhere we need to go," Corvus said.
"Yes, you'll need a guide. This is my brother Harker, a former soldier in the
service of the High King. He'll be happy to accompany you and answer any questions.
And my secretary Matra, an Iborian. The wilds are dangerous and she's an accomplished
healer."
The look on Matra's face was of surprise.
"Excuse me sir," she said, "I'll need to prepare for such an expedition."
"What? Yes, of course. Perhaps a short delay of a few hours?"
Corvus, impatient from the shuttle flight was ready now but saw the look on
Brekal's face and gave in.
"Very well. Could you show us around the port?"
SIXTEEN HOURS LATER
EASTERN CONTINENT OF VARO
10:57 PM
The port, the hotel/lodge, the Lumber Point. Finally the Plundered Forest.
They'd been all over.
Prander felt it wise to familiarize the shuttle pilot with each area, since
from this point forward the group was on its own.
Despite the darkness, the area was oppressively hot. Varo's main star had baked
the continent, while the atmosphere had cooperated by flooding it with low,
dense clouds, sealing in the heat and moisture. Everyone remained inside the
shuttle, whose atmosphere was controllable.
All except Corvus.
He was outside, using some sort of hand-held device and scanning the sky.
"What's he doing?" Harker peeked out through the shuttle's viewport.
"I haven't the faintest." Brekal was lounging on an acceleration couch, folded
flat, converted into a bunk. His hands were across his chest, joined at the
fingers and his eyes closed.
"It's pretty warm out tonight. How can he stand it?"
Brekal didn't answer as he'd finally snuggled into a comfy position for a nap.
Harker watched the young Spatial Mage. He seemed to be following something in
the sky. Curiosity got the better of him and he walked out through the aft airlock.
"What are you doing out here?" asked Harker. The elf had brought a towel to
mop the perspiration that beaded up almost as soon as he stepped outside.
"Hmmm? Oh, there's a meteor shower going on."
Harker looked, but the sky was obscured by the cloud cover. He stood next to
the Spatial Mage, looking over his shoulder. Corvus held a small unit that resembled
a hand-comp. The young mage would run the unit's SCAN which would then display
a set of points, which moved across the screen. Corvus would place a targeting
reticle around one then shift the readout to DETAIL and the display would show
the acutal meteor, burning up as it entered the atmosphere. It was remarkable
technology. Harker doubted that even the shuttle's sensors were as sophisticated
as the hand-held unit.
"By the elder gods!" Harker whispered.
"Hmmm? Oh, yes a little something my grandfather devised. Techno-wizardry."
He offered the device to the elf who found and followed a few meteors of his
own before handing it back.
"How come we're not sweating?" The elf realized that while standing next to
the Spatial Mage he'd stopped perspiring as well. It was cooler here.
"Ah, a little trick I learned as an apprentice. Without getting into secrets,
let's just say the humidity in the environment can be adjusted, positively or
negatively." Corvus reset the sensor. The elf was mystified. "Spatial Magery
is concerned with exploring the fabric of the megaverse and it's makeup. We
can alter it in subtle ways, mold it to our needs. We see it as something flexible
rather than static, held fast by immutable laws." He patted the sensor. "Take
this for instance. Once mastered, great distances are no longer obstacles, rather
they become part of a sliding scale which can be drawn forth, or pushed back."
Harker nodded. He understood the young man's words, but had no idea what they
meant. Magic wasn't his forte. As a citizen of the UWW he'd met scores of mages
who could command powers most could only dream about. Apparently Spatial Mages
were capable of commanding powers foreign and wondrous to them as well.
"Well, I'm going back in," announced Harker. "We should get some sleep. We're
probably going to spend most of tommorrow travelling and scouting."
The elf moved off. He was halfway to the shuttle before he realized Corvus Auctor
wasn't with him. He turned, noticing the mage was staring intently at the hand-sensor.
Suddenly, Corvus motioned for him to come over -- quick.
"What?"
"I don't think we'll be sleeping tonight."
Harker jogged over.
Filling the hand-sensor's display was a starship.
* * * * *
It took two hours to find the landing site.
Corvus' sensor could track the craft but there were other considerations, namely
secrecy. While the shuttle was nicely equipped, it's sensors were feeble compared
to a starship, which meant they had to keep a safe distance between them. The
group waited until the starship landed before they decided to follow. Once down
on the planet, the rogue ship was a bit harder to trace, due to the topography
of the area. But between Corvus' hand unit and the shuttle's own multi-optics
they found the landing site, some 200 miles distant.
Thanks to the unit, and Brekal's full PPE reserve, the group was able to study
the scene from their camp a quarter mile away.
Corvus had to meditate to replenish his own mystic energies, depleted during
the search, so Harker, Brekal and the Iborian made notes while observing.
Not only was there a starship, but someone had placed a portable factory in
the cleared area. Despite the darkness a dozen men worked, some piloting exoskeletons
and loading cargo containers, others carrying the felled trees to the processing
factory and still others as foremen. Those not inside vehicles wore thermostatic
suits to deal with the oppressive climate. The scanner also revealed a sensor
picket and four robot security guards.
Harker was in charge and decided to keep up observation until they could bring
in reinforcements. He ordered the shuttle crew to move to a safe distance and
radio the starport about what they'd found. Estimates were that a security team
from the port was a minimum of 3 hours away.
This left the elf, the Iborian, the Wulfen and the young human behind, in the
heat, until the craft returned.
* * * * *
For someone covered head to toe in fur the Wulfen remained remarkably composed
despite the temperature. Of course he'd stripped down to pants and boots, but
so had most of the others, all except the Iborian. Matra had slipped into some
sort of trance and remained in place, with only the slightest amount of dampness
showing on her forehead.
"I wish we were near a ley line or nexus point," explained Brekal, double checking
the gear he'd removed from the shuttle. "I could summon some help." He plugged
a lead from his contragravity pack into his Headjack and ran a diagnostic.
"Demon slaves to wave fans in our faces?" asked Harker, stripped to the waist
and sitting crosslegged across the way.
"Hardly. I know a group of gremlins who'd love to sink their fangs into the
sensor picket, that factory and that starship." The CG pack was fine. "I guarantee
that ship would never leave."
Harker had expressed an urge to keep the starship from leaving. He wanted to
impound it and arrest the lot of them. Corvus had thought differently: allow
them to leave and put the word out that they'd been found out. The elf felt
his way was better. He was sure the ship's logs would contain information on
who was behind this as well as those involved. The starship and factory would
be nice trophies too. Symbols of victory which would help satisfy his warrior-spirit's
objective nature.
"It's too bad," groaned the Wulfen. "Those gremlins would have that sensor picket
down in no time. You've heard of rune magic? They've got the equivalent of a
rune monkey wrench or at least..."
Brekal stopped in mid-sentence. "Harker. Yo, elf."
But Harker didn't budge. Brekal muttered to himself then activated his hand-comp
via his Headjack, brought up the display on Varo's planetary exports he'd downloaded
at the starport and concentrated on business. This would eventually blow over
and he could make a tidy profit bringing goods to Port Eclipse and the surrounding
Trade Worlds, and maybe send a few things this way.
* * * * *
Harker's astral form snapped back to his body causing him to startle the group
sitting quietly around him. Corvus was reading Genesis Omega and listening to
Brekal and Matra talk. The elf jumped up.
"Yes, I toured the factory and boarded the ship. It's called the Long Harvest
and she's going to lift-off in less than an hour." He seemed quite upset at
the prospect of one of his trophies getting away. "They'll escape!"
Harker explained further that he'd observed the captain on the bridge and watched
him check off the timetable as calls came in. Sitting in the nice air-conditioned
bridge, while the groundcrew filled cargo containers outside.
The ship was for all purposes impregnable. Any kind of attack risked coming
under fire of its massive laser cannons, which could devastate the surrounding
area and any cover. Their shuttle was armed and armored, but it was no match
for the freighter.
"The freighter doesn't necessarily have to escape," said Corvus Auctor, now rested and listening to the details
of Harker's astral scouting expedition. The Spatial Mage looked at the artwork
inside Genesis Omega and thought about how bizarre and chaotic a place Wormwood
was. It lent itself to oppressive nature of this place in a way: the heat, the
darkness, the rough terrain. Everyone sitting here was virtually out of their
element. So too were the plunderers. Special suits to keep them cool. Technology
to do the work. He imagined what would happen if things were to change further.
"I think we should wait until the ship leaves before we attempt any kind of
action," counseled the elven Psi-Warrior. It wasn't what he wanted, but the
risk was simply too great.
Brekal and Corvus could combine their magics to deal with the security robots
and then with the groundcrew.
Corvus patted the Genesis Omega journal, rolled it up and tucked it into his
Dimensional Pocket.
The young Spatial Mage stood up, "I need to uh..." he said making an inference
that nature was calling.
The others looked up briefly and returned to their discussion.
Fifteen minutes later Harker noticed Corvus hadn't returned, "Where is he?"
The group split up and called for him but he didn't answer.
Bluish-white magic tinged the eyes of Brekal as the Wulfen Shifter cast Second
Sight.
"Oh, no...by the elder gods! He's gone down there on his own!"
* * * * *
By jogging and using his Celestial Cloak, Corvus had invoked the Mystic Portal
ability to help him quickly make his way thru the rough terrain and down to
where the starship, factory and robots were.
He paused, concentrated on the clearing then moved in.
Brekal and Harker came down via the Wulfen's contragravity pack, flying in just
above tree level until the forest fell away completely. It was a slightly comical,
flying piggyback arrangement, and the only way to catch up.
Both the Wulfen and the elf had Nightvision and could see the scene developing
clearly: Corvus walking into the clearing and heading for the starship.
The Wulfen landed, but held Harker back.
"What?"
"There's something strange happening here."
The elf turned, "More like stupid..."
"Look."
Both men watched the as Corvus Auctor walked unnoticed and untouched right up
to the starship. He'd passed through the sensor picket and the security bots
without either raising an alarm.
"Ok," said Harker, "So he's not stupid. Reckless!" He remembered doing something
similar a time or two.
The elf summoned his inner strength to activate his Psionic Invisibility. As
he did so, in the distance, Corvus Auctor used a spell to walk bizarrely up
the side of the hull, on top of the starship, where he then sat down, crosslegged.
"What's he up to?"
Harker didn't have time to speculate and ran into the clearing.
The elf hadn't gone more than thirty feet when he was engulfed by a wave of
heat. The change in temperature was so drastic that it forced him to stop, thinking
he'd encountered the edge of an invisible plasma field.
One of the security bots was now looking in his direction and he was sure he'd
been seen, but the bot traversed the area then suddenly changed directions.
Then it dawned on him: the Spatial Mage had mentioned he could effect the environment
positively and negatively. The heat made him and everything beyond opaque to
both the bot's and the picket's IR sensors.
Harker had a momentary new found respect for Corvus.
His mouth dropped open when he looked up and noticed that the young mage --
and the starship -- had disappeared!
* * * * *
The Spatial Realm of Chaos that Corvus had invoked had begun to take
on the look of Wormwood. His postgraduate studies were coming in handy. His
grandfather had tutored him about the properties of their own Realm (the Inner
City) and had worked some of the customizations into devising his own spell,
which he'd taught to Corvus. A Spatial Mage could shape his Realm in any way
he wished so Corvus focused on details from Genesis Omega. A gaping hole split
the earth in front of the Long Harvest. A pair of Holy Terrors emerged
from the ground and began their assault. One tore the starship's powerful laser
cannons apart, while the other breached its airlock.
Inside, the Long Harvest's captain and crew were in a panic. Several
had been asleep, jolted awake by the horrible shearing noise of the starship's
hull being ripped apart by the incredibly strong denizens Corvus had summoned.
The captain and his first officer, already on the bridge, engaged the optical
sensors but saw nothing, thanks to Corvus' own cloak, which he'd removed and
draped over the small sensor turret.
"Engage fore and dorsal force fields!" was the order.
The other officer stepped over to the control console and began keying in a
sequence of commands.
But it was too late. The other Holy Terror had ripped open the hull along the
starboard front quarter and had expelled a huge cloud of gas into the bridge.
The captain and his first lieutenant fell to the deck retching and gasping,
engulfed by the expanding cloud.
Sitting calmly by, Corvus experienced a twinge of disappointment. His technique
lacked Lazarus Vesper's daring and panache -- the hero's personal touch -- but he had to admit, it was certainly
effective.
* * * * *
Harker, now running towards the cargo containers near the factory stopped when
the security bot on his right opened fire. The elf dropped as the laser beam
shot past his head and he rolled, pausing to take cover behind a tree stump.
He was just about to use his Intuitive Combat when the robot was struck by a
particle beam conjured by Brekal. The shifter had crossed the heat barrier and
had taken the bot with his own attack spell. The laser carbine it held melted.
It dropped the weapon, then advanced on the Wulfen, who engaged his contragravity
pack, evading it easily.
Harker had no idea where Corvus or the starship had gone to. Using his Telekinetic
Leap, he advanced on the nearest remaining bot and sliced it to pieces with
three hits from his Psi-Sword, which sprung into his hand just before he landed
on it.
His Super Telekinesis flattened a pair of workers in exoskeletons.
Brekal used his Sub-Particle Acceleration spell twice more and blew apart the
last remaining security bot.
Unsure on what to do next, Harker and the Wulfen exchanged shrugs from a distance.
The remaining workers were fleeing into the woods, afraid that they were going
to be killed.
Moments later the Long Harvest reappeared. It looked like it had crash
landed, the dorsal turret had been smashed and its starboard side ripped open,
and was leaking some sort of smoke.
The ship's port cargo bay doors groaned and opened. Out walked Corvus Auctor.
"Harker, you mentioned wanting to secure the starship. I give you one starship,
slightly damaged, but mostly intact. And the crew, while incapacitated, are
all alive and undoubtedly willing to talk."
The sound of the shuttle's engines greeted their ears as it flew into view overhead.
It was armed and its onboard sensors could be used to track down the fleeing
workers. It'd take some additional time to mop-up, but thanks to Corvus Auctor,
Harker and his clan would prevail.
Harker, soaked from the combat action, stood awestruck, before shaking Corvus'
hand and watching the Spatial Mage walk towards the descending shuttlecraft.
Brekal flew over and landed next to elf.
"Well," he said in between pants, "I don't know about you but it seems to me
the young man has delivered the goods."
"Yeah," Harker wiped his face down. "And he did it all without breaking a sweat."
THE END
