Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison) Subject: [MG] Digging Trenches Message-ID: References: <1993Jun12.023141.2788@data-io.com> Date: Thu, 17 Jun 1993 22:54:16 GMT In the courtyard, Little Rat watched as 'Raf and the rest of the goat people and furry people walked through a hole in the air, muttering under her breath about how wizards is strange. Kev nodded in agreement. The hole vanished, and Kev went over to the place where the rocks in the ground made the picture. Little Rat followed, looking dubiously at the rock he was carrying. "You sure dis is gonna work?" She watched skeptically as he put the rock down in the middle of the picture, right on the star that was made out of silvery colored little rocks. "Yah, 'Raelf said it would, 'member? Besides, den we can go up in da tree an' see what it looks like." Once they were both clear of the picture, the rock began glowing a faint red color, and then the little rocks that the picture was made out of started glowing brightly. "Wow. Lookit dat!" Little Rat pointed. The walls were no longer the color of ugly grey and white, like a big bird dropping; the faint pink glow from the picture ran out to the walls and everything turned a nice warm color. "Race ya ta da tree," Kev said, already running. Little Rat caught up and got into the tree just before him. They went up as far as the limbs would take them, stopping at the spots where Elya had said they shouldn't go past. The city was all sparkly below. There was an ugly sort of sparkle all over the Shun, and a pretty sparkle around all of the other Towers and Lighthouses, and some of the buildings sparkled. Long lines of purple light ran off into the distance, three of them met here at the Tower. Little Rat ooh'ed at the sparkling lights, but after a while she got bored. "Hey Kev. Wanna go eat?" "Just a sec, I think dey's gonna start soon." She looked askance at him. "Who's gonna start?" "Da band. Dey's settin' up dere at da Plaza, see, da spot where da purple line goes crost of da green one? Dat sparkly building is da Dragon's Inn." "Oh. Dat's awful far off, Kev." "Uh huh," Kev replied without paying attention to her. She looked in his face. His eyes were all purple in the weird light glowing off the walls. She blinked. The same color as the lines that met under the tower. She decided it must be just the crazy light in the tower, cause his eyes were that funny pale color that looked different in different light. She wondered if her own eyes were a funny color, and remembered that there was a mirror down in the big room with the fuzzy floor. Little Rat was about to get down by herself when a flashy light out in the city distracted her. It was at the place Kev had pointed out as the Plaza, and it was pulsing a red color. He waved excitedly. "What's dat?" Little Rat peered, trying to see it better. "Band. C'mon, le's go inside, dere's a way dat we can hear!" They scrambled down from the tree, and ran inside. Kev took her to his room, but before he went in, he knocked on the door. "Hey, house, could you please fix da inside of my room so dat we can hear da band playin'?" Kev asked politely. The name on the door changed slightly; now it read "Rec Room". When they went inside, the dishevelled order that Kev usually kept for a room had been changed for a room with two chairs on posts, and one big wall that showed the Plaza of Glittering Steel. The sounds of a crowd were audible. Kev grinned and flopped into one of the chairs. Little Rat took the other, wondering if she was hungry. She glanced around. A little table between the chairs had a covered box on it. She opened it. "Dere's some food in here," she said, surprised. It was some fruit and a few slices of that strange meat pie that 'Raelf had made earlier in the morning. Pitza. She wasn't sure she liked it. There was a pitcher of water, too. "Hey, cool, is dere any wit' anchovies?" Kev grinned. Little Rat grimaced. "Ick. Salty fish, you kin have dem. Dere's some wit' jus' cheeze, I'll have dat one." The drumming started, and they leaned back in their chairs. -0--0- Littlefair tapped his guest on the shoulder. "You planning to order again, or do you just want to pay rent on the seat here?" He started loading cups and plates into a carry tub. 'Raelf looked up from the book he was reading, the shining pages reflecting on his face made the fatigue visible in his eyes. "Sure thing, dude. Man, it's happening now. You sure there's no more of that Catamount in the basement somewhere?" "Ha! You cleaned me out. I don't know where you put it all." "Sorry, I know, it's just a whole lot easier way to get energy for what's going on topside. Well, I thank you for your hospitality." "'Raelf? What's happening now?" Rowan frowned, concerned that it might be something that would affect business. "Oh. The usual battle for the life or death of the universe. Nothing really out of the ordinary for this place. I don't know why I ever thought I could just visit here, really." "Don't worry, 'Raelf. Things will come out right. Trust your barkeep." "Oh yeah. Hey, catch ya later. I've gotta go." "Have a good night, 'Raelf." "We'll try." The blond mage walked out the door, his usually light step more subdued than usual. Three blocks south to the World Gate. He went inside. The Golden Elf who went by the name Traveller was leaning back in his chair playing a gentle tune on his harp, while a pleasant illusion danced over the flames in the brazier. The gate itself was black, no swirls tonight. "Hey, dude. I need to access emergency power. This is a nexus hazard situation, on my recognizance." "Another one? 'Raelf, you... No. You're not quite 'Raelf, are you?" "Good eyes, dude. Yeah, call me Lex. What tipped you off?" "You're too big, first off. 'Raelf told me once that he doesn't like to carry around really excessive muscle mass because it makes some of his fighting moves less effective. And your eyes. You haven't gone out of your Water focus since you came in here, even when you change to one of your others, the Water focus is still active." "Right both times. I'm timeforked, got caught up in one of the Five Wars, and just barely escaped, with all the expected injuries. 'Raelf prime is just now fighting with a reavers'child." The gold elf flinched in reply. "Well, what are you waiting for, Lex? Hurry, start your power tap!" "Thanks, dude." He drew his staff from its place behind his ear and enlarged it to full size, then plunged the end into the blackness of the gate field. "This is gonna be big. Put station two online please." The gold elf waved his hands in a complex pattern, chanting control phrases, and the firepit began to blaze with a light the color of magic. The gateway was suddenly a brilliant white, and Lex drew the energies down the staff and into and through himself. He began glowing and the room lit up even more. A fitful crackling filled the air. Traveller reached into his desk and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, and put them on. He walked over to the front door, put up a sign: Closed for Maintenance He picked up his harp and resumed playing. After a few minutes, he gave up as the crackling from the gateway continued to overwhelm his music. "Hey. Trav. You. Might. Want. To. Go. To. Plaza... Satyr. Band. There. Again. Tonite." Lex gritted out, struggling to keep his voice working while channeling the energy overload across time and space. "Thanks! I'll try it!" Traveller shouted, and went off up the street. The evening sun was just beginning to set and the shadow of Merchant's Hill was sliding eastward towards him; up ahead, he saw the colorful glow of wizard-torches and felt the warm breeze from a daystone keeping the area around it as comfortable as it had been that afternoon. The Plaza of Glittering Steel still showed some signs of the party of the day before, but nothing like the Town Square. The workmen and the hired elemental-handlers were still cleaning there. But Littlefair and the other merchants around the Plaza had done their own cleanup, and the Plaza had already been scrubbed and polished, the signs of the party from the night before removed. Now there were two pavilions being set up in front of the Jeweler's shopfront, and hay bales set out to demark the boundaries of a raised wooden dancing floor. Traveller nodded to Listener, who was standing in the doorway of the Dragon's Inn looking at the five satyrs, the centaur, and several other forest-folk helping with the placement of a stage. "Salutations," Listener said in high Elven. "You taking a vacation? Who's handling the worldgates?" "Oh, they're in use," Traveller returned in the same tongue. "One of my colleagues needed to draw power from the emergency lines, so I get to come out in public for a few hours." "Ah. I see. Notice anything unusual?" Listener waved at the band, the setup happening in the Plaza. A crowd had begun to form, more than a hundred people standing along the streets and walkways, staying well back from the dance floor and the Plaza. Food and beverage carts began showing up. Traveller finished his scan of the area. "There's a pavilion in front of the jewelry shop. I can't imagine that old fustian Karriggan letting anyone but Melwiss do that." "Precisely correct. Seems that Melwiss' servant Hector gave him a very good report on this band. In person, and by word of mouth. So this is a command performance, of sorts." "What? Hector? But he's deaf-mute, since birth." "Not since last night. You see those forest folk there?" "Two foxen, a pair of 'phits, and ... oh. There's something very strange about that woman, the parafeline. In the crowd. She looks like that actress. Vonda Crim, from the Caredahl players, but that isn't her usual ... that's NOT makeup." Traveller made a circling gesture with his left hand, and in the air before him, a closeup appeared, bringing faces closer and in detail. "That gold satyr male... Ah. One of 'Raelf's timeforks." "What's a timefork?" Listener said, curiously. "A trick we learned at Travellers' college. I avoid doing it. It's emotionally painful. But 'Raelf seems to enjoy it, from what I've seen. The Traveller finds a point in time where the divergence of choices allow only two decisions, and chooses both. Two timelines come into being, and the Traveller exists fully on both. After a while, if the two decisions have no long-term effect, the timelines re-merge, and the Traveller has the collected time-energy of both timelines to use for power. But to do that, only one can continue to exist, and the other has to come to an end. There can only be one." Listener thought for a moment, then grew pale. "Suicide? One of the timeforks kills the other?" "For me, most likely. 'Raelf is 'kan, and his people are different; they seem to be able to merge back together somehow, without losing the power they collected." He paused, looking through his closeup at the pavillion. "Melwiss is about to make his appearance. Well, look at that. Is that really Hector?" Traveller tipped the view so that Listener could see as well. A youngish man, but with snow-white hair, handsome and fit, was talking animatedly with the man who was master of the merchant's guild and the actual ruler of Generica. On the other side, two bored looking people of apparently late teens were lounging, their clothing clearly declaring them to be nobility, though they wore no emblems of rank or status, and there were only three guards apiece attending them. Melwiss frowned sourly, and the transparent gauze veils were removed from in front of his pavillion. The band, instruments set up, filed up to the pavillion, and bowed. The gold satyr did not do the profundis bow that was required of Generican natives, but his inclination was the correct one for visiting VIP's. Melwiss' attendants seemed to be scandalized, but the nobles were simply amused. Listener nudged Traveller. "Look. They're wearing clothes. Well, thongs, at least. Wonder if that means they're not going to do the fourth Drumsong. Would be less fun if we just get the learning songs." "By the looks of him, that 'Raelf-fork is stuck in earth the same way that his otherself was lodged in water... I predict they'll go all the way. Do you plan to dance tonight?" Listener shrugged. "Perhaps." The crowd hushed. The five satyrs had struck a pose on the stage, and then a gentle, quiet thrumming began to be audible. It grew, never quite loud enough to identify clearly, but tangible in the bones, in toes and fingers. Over the thrumming, a faint, delicate whistle of ethereal pipes. Distant, pure notes rang from bells, as though calling from across a valley to a faraway listener. The drumming grew louder, more intricate rhythms joined and mixed, building to a dazzling complexity that finally came together in a single loud THUMP! and quiet followed for a moment, then a delicate strumming on a mandoline or lute... Bells began to come in on the grace notes. A voice, matching the bells, began to sing, joined in moments by another voice, then another, weaving in the background... There's a problem, feathers, iron Bargain buildings, weights and pullies Feathers hit the ground before the weight can leave the air Buy the sky and sell the sky and tell the sky and tell the sky Don't fall on me (What is it up in the air for) (It's gonna fall) Fall on me (If it's there for long) (It's gonna fall) Fall on me (It's over it's over me) (It's gonna fall) There's the progress we have found A way to talk around the problem Building towered foresight isn't anything at all Buy the sky and sell the sky and bleed the sky and tell the sky Don't fall on me (What is it up in the air for) (It's gonna fall) Fall on me (If it's there for long) (It's gonna fall) Fall on me (It's over it's over me) (It's gonna fall) Well I could keep it above But then it wouldn't be sky anymore So if I send it to you you've got to promise to keep it home Don't fall on me (What is it up in the air for) (It's gonna fall) Fall on me (If it's there for long) (It's gonna fall) Fall on me (It's over it's over me) (It's gonna fall) Buy the sky and sell the sky and lift your arms up to the sky And ask the sky and ask the sky Listener's eyes were shining, Traveller grinned and dispelled the closeup window. "I'm going to go up closer. See you later." Listener nodded, abstracted, as he stared out. This was not the usual Satyr band. Oh, they had the emotional hook, the physical empathy that caught hold of the deepest-rooted hungers, but they weren't using it the usual way. And he knew, somehow, that they were threading connections through the crowd, building power. The next song had snuck in from nowhere, growing out of the continued background thrum - another drumsong, but with lyrics this time, the voice weaving its own percussion into the rhythm, meanings carried in a subliminal, almost sneaky background that dropped them into the heart without holding them up to the eyes. I'm accustomed to a smooth ride Or maybe I'm a dog who's lost its bite I don't expect to be treated like a fool no more I don't expect to sleep through the night Some people say a lie's a lie's a lie But I say why Why deny the obvious child? Why deny the obvious child? And in remembering a road sign I am remembering a girl when I was young And we said These songs are true These days are ours These tears are free And hey The cross is in the ballpark The cross is in the ballpark We had a lot of fun We had a lot of money We had a little son and we thought we'd call him Sonny Sonny gets married and moves away Sonny has a baby and bills to pay Sonny gets sunnier Day by day by day by day I've been waking up at sunrise I've been following the light across my room I watch the night receive the room of my day Some people say the sky is just the sky But I say Why deny the obvious child? Why deny the obvious child? Sonny sits by his window and thinks to himself How it's strange that some rooms are like cages Sonny's yearbook from high school Is down from the shelf And he idly thumbs through the pages Some have died Some have fled from themselves Or struggled from here to get there Sonny wanders beyond his interior walls Runs his hand through his thinning brown hair Well I'm accustomed to a smoother ride Maybe I'm a dog that's lost his bite I don't expect to be treated like a fool no more I don't expect to sleep the night Some people say a lie is just a lie But I say the cross is in the ballpark Why deny the obvious child? The drums stopped suddenly, and Listener shivered. Outworld music. The referents weren't from anywhere near Nexus. The mode of the music was peculiarly unlike those he was most familiar with, and the tunings were off from the true mathematical relationships in a way that made the music seem sweeter and more seductive. He'd heard this kind of thing before, from the experimentalists in the Elven bardic enclaves and the bards who had taken their results outland. He found that he had moved, unconsciously, to the edge of the crowd, away from the door of the Dragons' Inn. The gold satyr male was playing an etherial trilling tune on the panpipes, making them sound unlike any panpipe he'd ever heard. A tambour came in, then a voice, soft and quiet I'd rather be a hammer than a nail, if I could, if I only could, I surely would. Listener stopped short, forcing himself from the state of heightened focus and into a more self-controlled frame of mind. He began a countermelody in his head, something to neutralize the seductive music, and watched for a minute. Power was being gathered, all right, but shunted off somewhere else. The elven bard made his decision: he moved quietly back to the Dragon's Inn, past Littlefair and up to his secret place in the rafters. He lifted his flute and played the four-note Song of Opening Ways. In his mind a door was unlocked, sprang open. The haggard man at the Duty Station in the Mages' Guild was barking orders to four others, men and women who were gathering equipment from a closet. "Duty mage," Listener spoke into the door in his mind. "Listener, sorry, can I put you on hold?" "Make it fast." soft boring insipid music and pretty lights in the doorway "OK, so what's up?" "Melwiss has a satyr band, calls itself Rhythm Song. They're doing some kind of power ritual out here. Can you check it for menace?" "Precog already reported it. She says it's clean, but she can't tell where the energy is going or why." "Thanks. Hey, what's going on there?" "Somebody went into main lobby and blew out the comm station, got shot. Apparently can't be properly healed by magic, some offworlder thing. The Wyvern's pissed off, Urco's gone offsite to handle a Situation, and nobody can find half the Archmagi - Nescie's off the loop, Thorn and Fauteuil are off somewhere else, Leonaco's been dragged upstairs to help with the injury, Rivy's taken Gwaliostrok and half the other competent magi off to some sort of training, and not even ...sage's around. Hey, is he over there?" "Don't think so. I'll tell him if I see him. Speak with you later, Nijorik." "Right. Hey, here's Urcohea. I'll report your concerns to him." "Thanks again." Listener closed the mental door, and lowered the flute from his lips. He sprang gracefully down to the floor again, and looked around at the unusually empty commons room. Most of the dark corners were even empty. He walked over to the door, filled by the broad shoulders of Rowan Littlefair. "Rowan, you think we should take advantage of this lull to do anything?" "Yeah, I'm gonna relax and listen to the music." [ADMIN] "Fall on Me" is by REM. "Obvious Child" and "I'd Rather Be" are by Paul Simon. Lyrics quoted without permission.