Chapter 72: Grand Jeté
Her name was once Alice Varius, a young Cyrod of some obscure small farm outside of the Imperial City. She was orphaned in her late teens and, with no particular skills or talents, had enlisted in the Legion to survive, see the world, and fulfill her dream of finding a place to settle and belong. Her first field assignment was to the far-flung, snow-encrusted barbarian province of Skyrim and an area aptly named "The Pale" because it was certainly beyond the pale of any civilized comforts.
Except for their cats. Large cats perfectly adapted to their snowy home. So large and fluffy, unlike the small, skinny cats of the Imperial City. No, these delightful creatures were as large as the Alfiq she'd once seen at the Khajiit Embassy.
Her squad leader put up with her obsession with the beasts because, admittedly, she and he were that good together in the bedrolls. The others in the squad tolerated it because the leader was well-liked, and Alice did have talents in camp cooking and learning quickly the knowledge and skills to harvest wild edibles in this foreign land.
During a patrol, she'd found the skinned bodies of a pair of female cats. She could tell they'd had kittens. Her leader permitted her to look for the kits as long as she didn't stray too far from camp and had a good dinner ready for their return. They were going to check some areas that had reported sightings of Stormcloaks.
The sightings were right — for the Stormcloaks. The Jarl of The Pale had given them the location of enemy Imperials in his territory. Her camp was found, she'd been caught, and the expected things happened. The enemy had laughingly left her a sack full of the kittens she'd been searching for to keep her warm. As she lay freezing and slowly dying in the snow, she thought she heard dance music from unidentifiable instruments. Delirium, she knew. It was probably just the kittens crying as they also froze to death.
Did non-Khajiiti cats go to Warm Sands? She hoped so. Maybe they'd let her come along.
Rachana Subha clicked out of the Skyrim game and finished her cold chai coffee. She'd finish the Skuldafen run later. It was time to catch a bus to her brother's house. As she put on make-up, she forced a smile into the mirror, trying to work up enthusiasm. She'd rather sleep or keep playing the game, but his Christmas party was also his engagement party, so she couldn't just drop it.
Ma'dran — the grey and white kitten and her newest foster failure from a local cat rescue group — snagged tiny claws in her pants as it tried to climb her leg. She gently chided it and sent it back to her other foster failures to play.
As she waited at the bus stop, she listened to an MP3 player loaded with her favorite tunes by Bollywood legend Mohd. Rafi. She danced a little as she listened, also because it helped keep warm.
Her backpack was heavy with small gifts, a bottle of wine, and clothes for an overnight stay at Vivek's house. She'd attend her twin brother's party for a couple hours, then crash on the zero gravity chair in his study. He'd agreed, knowing her next-day schedule was stuffed, and his house was closer to the three hospitals she had to lecture at. He was also loaning her one of his cars because hers was in a shop after a drunk driver in a jacked-up Ford truck had literally run over her car.
Darn it! Another drunk driver. This one made an illegal right from the inside lane and crashed into the bus. Right below her seat, as it happened. No one was hurt, not even the drunk driver. As they waited for a replacement bus, she decided to go across the street to a convenience store and buy coffee and something to nibble on. She'd forgotten to eat while playing Skyrim. She was craving a cheese stick. On her way back, some other idiot speeding through a light lost control in the icy slush on the road.
Holy isekai — otherworld — cliché. The two cars hadn't worked, so it had come for her itself. She tried to bolt, but Truck-Kun suddenly skewed sideways, coming broadside at her. She wasn't going to avoid this one.
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
"This is Colette?" asked Alice in astonishment.
"Oh, my bad. I totally forgot to warn you. Yeah, this is the real Colette," said Curtis. He glanced at Colette and shrugged. Colette rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. "Um, Colette is one of the few named characters I've come across who look totally different than their game image," said Curtis. "Like, the four monks of High Hrothgar aren't the cookie-cutter clones as in the game. And, of course, neither are hagravens. Same with Falmer."
"Oh, of course. Silly me. This is real life, after all. That makes sense. Many new mods adjust body types according to race and give more cosmetic options."
Curtis nodded, saying, "Yeah. My kid brother was a modder. He liked adding dance routines to the animation. Hilarious. Stormcloaks and Legionnaires doing breakdancing and boogie duels. I only played the base game — no expansion packs or whatever mods came after the initial release."
Alice giggled and turned to Colette. "I apologize for my reaction. I was just startled that you are so much prettier than the face I thought I knew."
"A 'sour-faced old prune' is how Curtis described it," said Colette. She consciously ran her fingers through her long, auburn hair. "I recall his own amusing reaction when he discovered my name."
"Yeah. Lady of my dreams. Anyway, let's finish the introductions. Alice, meet the Master of Restoration, Colette Marence. Colette, this is Alice Varius Rachana Subha. Alice Subha from now on. Doctor Rachana Subha was like me — sudden death, then waking up in the dying body of Legionnaire Alice Varius of Cyrod."
"Was it the god, Jhunal, who transferred her?" asked Colette.
"I'm pretty sure it wasn't. I've asked, but he hasn't answered yet. The Khajiit who brought her to me is convinced it's one of the Khajiiti gods who did it. Ja-Kha'jay, God of the Lattice Dance."
"A Khajiiti god? But why?"
"Dunno. But both Alice and Rachana were wild about the little domestic cats. Alice loved cats despite all the prejudices against the Khajiiti. Rachana fostered a lot of cats back home until they could be permanently adopted by others." Curtis suddenly waved his hands to change the subject.
"Anyway, the important thing is Rachana's profession. Rachana is the genetic scientist we desperately need for the Snowmer project. Ja-Kha'jay's dancing — it's a solid fact that the positions of the moons to each other and their phases dictate the body forms of the Khajiiti. That's genetic manipulation on a god level. So, maybe Alice and Rachana, two souls, two faces in one body, are like the other faces of Ja-Kha'jay of Jone and Jode.
"Now, I've told you my past world has many gods, too. Rachana comes from a culture where one of the major gods is similar to Ja-Kha'jay, a many-faced Lord of the Dance. Life begins, progresses, and ends with his dance. I figure there's a weird connection there. Dunno which god, Ja-Kha'jay or Shiva, decided to migrate Rachana over, but I'm grateful.
"Oh, and she was also a Skyrim game player."
Colette sighed again and shook her head in resignation. "Obviously. Alright. But why would a Khajiiti god or your otherworld god care about Snowmer?" asked Colette.
"Why does Jhunal, a Nord god, care about Dwemer, Dunmer, and Snowmer?" Curtis countered, shrugging. "I don't know. I think Alice and Rachana are just glad to be alive. They share an obsession with cats, and they seem to like each other right off, so I'm hoping they won't have settling issues like me and Slitter."
Next, he took Alice to the Arcanaeum, where Archimage Urag and Pro-Tem Librarian Giaelle waited to be introduced to the newest soul-transferee to Tamriel. Curtis had already told Alice about Urag taking over the Archimage position when the Dragonborn resigned and that Giaelle was a former prisoner from Firsthold, Summerset. Giaelle was currently a student at the College for rehabilitation of her magicka. Once she completed her studies, she would officially take charge of the Arcanaeum.
Alice had agreed to allow the College to have her biographies. Curtis had initially hesitated to turn the girls over to the brain-grinding inquisition Urag had subjected him to. But Giaelle assured him she wouldn't let Urag didn't push the girls too hard.
Two weeks later, he was reading Alice's version of the Skyrim game she'd played. The lore of the Elder Scrolls World had matured since his playthrough. And Alice had been such a big fan that she'd even written and posted short stories on fanfiction sites.
He hoped it wouldn't be a harder challenge for Rachana Subha to adapt because she had more outdated data/preconceptions to unload than he did upon transference to this world. However, Alice seemed to be a nice girl. The girls didn't seem to resent each other. They also didn't seem to have the anger issues he and Slitter had. They'd eventually bonded through their mutual interests in physical exercises and martial arts skills. Thalmor torture had helped in a big way, but he couldn't recommend that course of therapy. The girls seemed to have cats. Still, he wondered if there was something more he could do.
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
"Oh, welcome back!"
In the two months he'd been gone, Alice now looked healthier. As she walked to him, her limp was hardly noticeable.
"Looking good, Alice. Looks like Urag kept his promise and wasn't too rough with you." A quick embrace, cheeks touching, and a step back.
"Hah!" she replied, grinning. "I had plenty of questions for each of his I wanted answers to. I'd say we made a fair exchange of headaches."
"Good for you."
"So you're the reincarnate of King Dumac?" she asked. "By the way, thanks for letting us read your bios. I'm even more interested in what scheme you've got for me. Those records, Urag wouldn't let me read."
"Yah. Dumac. Surprised the heck outta me, too," he confessed.
"I wonder if Nerevar is still alive. He's supposed to be immortal now."
"His name in this world is Severus Timberwolf. He's head of House Mora. That's a Dunmer House that's recently been recognized outside of Morrowind. You know the old Fort Amol? I was razed for the new town of 'Aldmora.' The Dragonborn and her husband started it. Well, actually, Revyn Sadri did — got pressured into it — and Lady Helsette went along to support him. But to get the new House recognized in Morrowind, he had to persuade Nerevar to be the Clan Father. Morrowind found it hard to refuse Nerevar, Godslayer and Dragonborn of Morrowind."
"The what? Dragonborn?"
"Yeah. He's proven he can Shout and absorb dragon souls, too."
"Did he help with killing Alduin?"
"No. But he was the backup in case Lady Helsette died before she could get there."
"I must hear more about all of this!" She violently shook her head. "But later. Later. I'm here because you wanted to introduce me to more people, right?"
"Yeah. But before we go in, I gotta ask, you okay with the idea that the gods brought you here for a purpose?"
"Colette's been hinting about it. Something about the work you're doing besides promoting some of our world's technology and sciences to Tamriel. I don't think I have any strong objections. Just wish I didn't have to die, though."
Curtis gave her another quick hug. "I know. I'm really sorry about that. I would never wish that to happen to anyone else. I also had family I would never have willingly wanted to leave." She hugged him back.
"I'm sorry for you, too. So, what have you been up to?"
"Oh, some of my usual business. Also, I've collected a few people you need to meet. That secret project you suspect, I'm hoping you're ready to be introduced to it."
"I've already figured it has largely due to my past profession as a genetics researcher."
"Okay. Two words. 'Falmer' and 'thalidomide.'"
She stared at him in horror. "What the…"
"Combined with ignorant application of forced restorations to save their babies to a faulty reset point, eventually breeding true."
She mouthed silent curses.
"One of the conditions when Jhunal hauled me back was to try to undo what the Dwemer did. I mean, as Dumac, I think it's really unfair because I — I mean 'he' — was never involved with that decision."
"You want me to undo centuries of selective genetic mutations? Not possible. That would be like turning cabbages, broccoli, cauliflower, and bunches of other plants back to the original brassica wild mustard ancestor or undoing centuries of selective dog breeding back to the original canid ancestor."
"Not turn back. Go forward. The Falmer are regaining their intelligence. But they don't have thousands of years to recover on their own. The world will kill 'em. Wouldn't a little guided genetic know-how boost their evolution?"
She frowned and looked down at the ground. Curtis nudged her in the right direction as they walked.
"Right. Gelebor said there were signs of intelligence. I wonder if he's still alive in the world?"
"Oh, yeah. He's still alive. Aaand, we're here." He ushered her into his office. "Alice, these are the people I want you to meet."
She looked up and immediately fastened on the tall and pale fantasy elf. "Gelebor!" she exclaimed, immediately recognizing him. Gelebor bowed deeply, smiling gently at her when he straightened back up.
"I am honored, my lady," he said.
Alice's eyes were next drawn to the beautiful but severe-looking Nord woman. "Oh, my god. Lady Valerica? So the Dragonborn did go back to get you out of the Soul Cairn after all."
Lady Valerica nodded. "Healer Alice," she acknowledged, unsmiling.
Curtis nudged Alice to get her attention. "Alice, this is Brother Salindil, priest of Auri-El and the steward managing the day-to-day operations in the ancient Falmer vale. He and his monastic brothers got out of Summerset when the Thalmor took over. The lady beside him is Lady Kineher, chief administrator. They do the tough job of processing and compiling the paperwork and coordinating communications and budgets for all my projects."
"Ai! Tough jobs. Good organization, records, and accurate communications are core necessities for any research project. Glad to meet you," she said, putting her hands together and bowing to them. Brother Salindil smiled as he returned her bow. Lady Kineher did the same.
"And this fellow is Agrund. A first-rank tonal architect. He operates primarily out of Nchuand-Zel. His team is working on refurbishing the old machines and supply stuff we can't get anywhere else."
"I can imagine." She fell silent as she studied Agrund with uncomfortable intensity. "Sorry for my rudeness," she said mechanically. "But you're not a race of Tamrielic elf I've seen before. And you're no re-skinned Dunmer. Short, stocky, and those ears. You're a real Dwemer, aren't you?" Her eyes slid back to Lady Kineher. "And you, you're an ancient Falmer like Gelebor." She looked at Curtis, her eyes demanding answers.
"You got it," he said, nodding. "Suspended animation. They were doing an experiment and got stuck in it. It was the reason I was brought back to Tamriel — I had to get them out before the system maintaining their sleep pods totally collapsed. Late Merethic Era. A couple thousand years or so before the First Era of Man."
"Ai! Ai!" Alice collapsed onto a chair. She rubbed her face and drummed her fists on the table in a fit of wild energy. When she was done, she looked at Curtis. "So! You're trying to revive the Falmer elves. And the Dwemer, too?"
"The Dwemer species has ended," rumbled Agrund. "There are only seven of us, lady. Six purebloods and one half-Atmoran. Only half our number are of breeding age, and we will not consent to artificial interbreeding. The ones of breeding interest have already resigned themselves to taking mates from other mer lineages or even non-mers. The legacy of the Dwemer will continue to be in technology and machines. My people's only interest is to partially mitigate the great crimes done to the Falmer. Our lord's interest is to salvage what he can of the Falmer."
"Curtis has taught me what he knows of genetics while telling me his knowledge is less than rudimentary," said Lady Valerica. "I have been provided with tools I could never have imagined. Being able to see cells and the inner workings of cells is fascinating. But I have no idea what I'm looking at. How am I supposed to find the answers he wants?"
"Ai. I understand." Alice looked reproachfully at Curtis. "You have heard the saying it's always easier to screw things up and around than fix things properly, yes?"
"Of course. But since complete tear-down and wiping the slate clean is impossible, gotta make do with salvaging and refurbishing. Show me a partially collapsed building, and I may be able to do something with it. But a group of mutants? That's where I'm hoping you can take over as project leader."
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
Gelebor and Lady Valerica had escorted Alice to the Temple of Xrib to see the Falmer. Alice had taken along the medical tools Agrund had been creating from Curtis's description of the instruments. Afterward, she had a lengthy list of things needed and improvements that could be made to the tools, along with superior explanations of tool functions to help with the manufacture. She set guidelines for standardized medical documentation and started the creation of a medical dictionary based on the ancient Aldmer language in place of Latin.
She took over and demanded a big rubber stamp from Curtis on budget. "Or are you going to be the insurance company I have to get pre-approval from just to prescribe even aspirin to my patients?" she asked archly. Curtis laughed, giving in.
"Okay, okay. The stamp's yours. Only, just run any real big expenses past Salindil and Kinehar so they can make sure everything's properly budgeted and we maintain our emergency money reserve.
"Do you have time to spare in the next few hours? I'm going into town to pick up some deliveries. Ma'dran's bringing them. He's been asking about you."
"Ai! Yes! I'll go reschedule with Giaelle immediately."
Curtis chuckled as he walked back to his office to collect the newest request for goods from Ma'dran as well as the gold for the goods being delivered. He almost tripped over the person reclining in front of his office door.
"Oh! Hey, Sho'maru. Sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."
The orange Alfiq seemed to purr but was speaking Ta'agra. Crouched against the wall and a side table to minimize his presence, a small, gray-striped Khajiit named Sebas, a tojay-raht form, interpreted, "No worries. This one hadn't made an appointment. Does Dunmer have a little time to converse?"
"Sure. Come on in."
Curtis went to his desk and Sho'maru jumped onto the guest chair. His interpreter pulled the other guest chair back a little and closer to Sho'maru before sitting on it.
"How's it going for you at the College? Finding what you want?"
"Yes. It has been a satisfactory hunt so far."
"I also hear the bodies of your other companions have been recovered. I'm sorry that no more of them survived."
"This one is honored by your concern. Those that died lie on warm sands. Sister Alice says they dance on a blessed rainbow bridge. This was said while helping bury them under the rocks of that home the Thalmor burned down."
Curtis softly snorted. "The Rainbow Bridge. Yeah, I bet they do."
"Dunmer knows what she speaks of?"
"A bridge between worlds, that's all it is. The bridge you hope that when you die, your loved ones will cross back to greet you.'"
"Not this one. But Khajiit understands the proper application. This is a bridge behind what Dunmer call 'the Waiting Door.'"
"Yeah. Pretty much. The Rainbow Bridge, the Bridge of Stars, the Stairway to Heaven, the Scales of the Rainbow Serpent, the Path of the Dawn Treader…" Curtis shrugged. "The name doesn't really matter."
"True," agreed Sho'maru. "The dance of the Lattice."
"Anyway, back on topic. What did you need to talk with me about?" Curtis asked.
"This one asks with the debt owed to Ma'dran and his company in mind for rescuing this one. And for future commercial interests. Will Khajiit be able to use the future transports while employing the magicka bags this one sells to merchants such as Ma'dran? One hears it was not so with the old gates. Unpleasant implosions of the spells and unrecoverable goods."
"Oh. Good question." Taking a magicka-created space through teleportation… That wasn't something he'd ever considered. A quick fishing of Dumac's memories pulled up nothing. The only sci-fi show he could think of was "Dr. Who." The Tardis was its own contained dimension warping to other dimensions and times. Energy oscillations… Hm… Dimensional displacement… Arteum… What?
"This one does not seek further information on the teleport magicka being recreated beyond what one has stated," said Sho'maru, interrupting Curtis's flow of thoughts. "It is commercial interest only. It would not be good if those carrying products of this one's creation will be barred from gate travel."
"Oh. Um, yeah," Curtis mumbled, feeling a little disoriented.
Put the Falmer Vale into a magic sack and hang it in another space. Got it* said Slitter in the back of his mind. *Access it only through the Waiting Door with an artificial Rainbow Bridge like the Falmer transporter. And we won't need that massive army of wizards that those air-brained Psijiics have.*
"Hold onto that thought for me," Curtis told him.
He turned his attention back to Sho'maru. "I can't say for certain. I would need to know how you create those bags of holding. But I understand it's proprietary information to you like the teleports are to me. If you do not want to share that secret, I fully understand. Let's make confidentiality contracts, and then we can discuss things that may help you make your products more compatible with my transport method."
"Mmmmrrr. That sounds plausible. A later meeting for extended talks sounds good," agreed Sho'maru, grinning with anticipation.
Related story(s): #10 Owl Pellets; #28-#29 Partial Recall; #42 Chanticleer; #58 Student Housing; #72 Gardener of Mer