Wine of the Gods 26: Embassy Read online

Page 6


  Epee and Gauntlet about their huge sizes.

  Jade griping about Rior.

  Smokey and Sunset griping about how they weren't getting anywhere toward freeing Frost and Dawn.

  Teri hissing about how Dagger would betray them, and rubbing her disloyalty into Jade's teeth gritting fury.

  Falchion picked up her supper and walked away. "I'm going to the beach for some peace and quiet." Listening to the surf was much better, and she nibbled at the food, her stomach having lost the battle for body space a month ago.

  Arrow showed up first. "It's all right to get snippy. I understand how you could be worried, after seeing the problems I had."

  "Go away Arrow, I don't want your horror stories."

  "Look, I'm sure you'll be all right, even though you're probably a year younger than I was when . . ."

  "Arg!" Falchion shoved herself to her feet and walked off. She circled around to the little cluster of houses and slipped into Teri and Jade's house. Where they put the things they don't want us to know about. She looked around. That was the corridor to Karista, that one was to that colony in Asia . . . she spotted a new corridor, low on one wall, and glancing back to be sure no one was watching, stooped and crawled through it.

  She hastily wrapped the mega reflecting surfaces spell Rior had taught them around herself, but between the two foot high grass and her crawling exit, no one would have seen her anyway. But a glance over the brittle winter killed grass showed that no one was there but a bunch of shaggy horses. A scruffy old dun draft horse walked over and wuffed at her.

  "Ugg. Even the animals won't leave me alone."

  The horse snorted and wandered off. The rest of the horses were fine looking animals. She sighed and wished she had more real life experience. Being raised in a speed bubble was the pits. The only horses on the island were a couple of mean ponies that they occasionally caught and tried to ride.

  Curious about where she'd landed, she walked up the hill.

  Froze, then slowly crouched down. I think I've found that corridor Teri mentioned. The one to the Crossroads. Because that sure looks like a gate.

  She stood up and lowered her mental shields enough to see the gates clearly. The gates were all down a bit from the crests of the hills, a mile or so between each one. She glared invisibly at the soldiers guarding it, and walked off to where she could sit and meditate and look at it with her inner eye. She bent over suddenly at the cramp . . . No. The contraction. It passed and she took several breaths, walked around, walked through the gate, and looked around the far side. Trees, not much underbrush. She stopped for another contraction, then walked back through the gate.

  Once she was out of sight in the tall grass she sat down and meditated. No way was she going home immediately. This would go on for hours and hours, and she couldn't stand the thought of hours of labor while everyone gripped and told horror stories.

  She settled down in the deep grass and concentrated on her breathing, on relaxation, on seeing the gate like a tough resistant corridor, much thicker than the corridor down there. She realized with surprise that it wasn't actually made from a bubble. At least not a regular one. Were there bubbles that had thicker skins? She sat and breathed slowly and looked at bubbles, big and flimsy, small and tight, shiny, dull, spinning fast or slow, floating slowly and moving with considerable speed. Some weren't even roundish, there were cone shaped ones, and a few cylinders. She looked back at the gate, looked past it at the other gates. With a bit of distance she could see that they were made out of the cone shapes, two each, with the large ends against the colorful crinkled up wads of paper that were Worlds, whole universes, and their trailing tails tangled together.

  She was experimenting with how to grab a fast spinning cone when the pain ripped her right out of the meditation trance. She struck out and hit the big draft horse that had nipped her, scrambled away and then nearly collapsed as another contraction hit. She'd wet herself. No, her water had broken. She staggered down hill to the corridor, panted through a contraction and crawled through. She staggered out of the house, and ran straight into Arrow.

  "Hey Falchion! You missed seeing the panic with seven babies born practically all at once. Epee and Becca both had twins . . . Old Gods! Smokey! Falchion needs you right now!" Arrow grabbed her arm and pulled her along faster than she really wanted to go.

  Then she was sitting on the birthing stool they'd made after Arrow's delivery, and she was pushing as hard as she could, while everyone kept telling her to breathe. Three more practically continuous contractions later and she was holding her daughter. "Are we up to Pike? Welcome to the World."

  Then another contraction hit.

  She panted and pushed and delivered the afterbirth.

  Rocked her daughter and ignored the older witches alternating between criticizing her and turning on each other.

  She finally caught her breath and looked around. All the witches closer, the men a respectful distance away, pretending to ignore the witches. But Rior was closest, and within hearing range.

  "I think I just figured out how they make gates."

  Chapter Ten

  Summer 1398 px

  Embassy World

  Xen watched apprehensively as all his old mentors lost their collective minds.

  "I should never have rounded them up for the water system." Q chewed her fingernails. "I . . . really should have just done it myself. I think they're drunk . . . Maybe just on power."

  Xen winced as the oldest and strongest Mage Compass of Rip World lined the hole they'd excavated with black basalt and kept going. Walls rose, big, blocky angular . . .

  "It needs some interior walls in the basement, for structural strength." Q peered worriedly at the hole. She winced as huge slabs of rock lifted off her pile and sailed over to meld themselves to the growing walls. She raised her voice again. "Floors! Don't forget . . . " She sliced off a chunk of granite and levitated it into the basement herself. First some interior basement walls, hopefully she was remembering correctly where to put them . . . Melded thick walls to the foundation and the outside walls. Then another slab for the floor above, thinning the slab a bit so it stretched out to the nearest interior basement walls. And another.

  Xen hopped anxiously about, trying to watch the construction, and make sure Q didn't get squashed. "Remember the big courtroom in the middle. Smaller meeting rooms around the sides." He yelled, with not a clue if they could hear him, or would heed him if they did.

  "Offices upstairs? Please?" He tried not to whimper.

  But interior walls started going up, and Q trotted up from the basement.

  "Drunk on building magic is fun, but I'm trying to avoid joining in the fun." She shook her head, as if clearing it. "But I've got your jail ready. Shall we start by putting these maniacs in it?"

  "It wouldn't hold them." Xen shrugged and backed up to see a third set of walls going up. As far as he could tell they were getting everything stuck together solidly. With lots of big blocky parts sticking out.

  "Well. It's certainly going to be large." Garit edged over to look inside.

  Q nibbled more fingernail. "Maybe I shouldn't have collected so much basalt. I just thought, it would look serious."

  "Oh. It's serious, all right." Xen raised his voice. "Windows! I need windows!"

  "I think they're mostly following Q's plan." Garit waved the roll of paper they'd shown the mages. "They are listening. Here come the windows." Then retreated hastily as smaller blocks started sliding out of the wall and taking wing.

  They backed further as big cubes of rock started thumping down in some insane artist's version of a staircase.

  "But I certainly don't rule out drunk. Where did they get these ideas?" Garit looked a bit aghast at the irregular steps.

  "From a book on Earth Art Styles through History. You have no idea the jokes about Cubism they made!" Q shook her head. "Xen, let's just thank them effusively and send them home, before we fix it, Okay?"

  "Yeah. And we sure as all
get out will not invite them back to build the Comet Fall embassy. Should we try it, Q?"

  "No. I think Never and Dydit's style, with columns and curlicues and fancy stuff might be about right. I'll get plenty of nice white and gray marble for it. Or would granite be better?"

  "Either, but please, white granite, not pink. Something in the style of the King's Palace would be appropriate." Garit edged forward again. "It certainly is . . . black. It sort of . . . looms, doesn't it?"

  They all looked at the angular black building lurking on the corner lot. Laughing voices from around the back. Rock girders swooped up to form a pyramid in the middle of the top.

  "I hope they glass that in, and is that courtroom of yours two floors tall?"

  Xen eyed it. "I'm not brave enough to go inside while those maniacs are still working on it, to find out. But I suspect my forum of worlds is going to have a large pyramidal glass roof."

  "Well, at least they didn't start playing with triangles until they were done with the main building. Triangular rooms are a bitch to furnish." Q stiffened her shoulders and strode up the weird steps. Peeked inside. Stepped in.

  "Oh . . . maybe I should make sure . . . never mind." Xen relaxed as Q trotted back out grinning.

  "Entry, with stairs up to both right and left. Corridors leading off to the back on both right and left sides, both levels. Dead ahead, doorway to the big forum room, slightly courtlike, but actually pretty good. Two floors tall, with the pyramid on top. Open balconies on the second floor. It may actually be a useable building." Q headed around the corner, where whoops could be heard.

  Xen followed, with Garit flanking him, out wide, away from the building. Born slightly magical, with accidental genetic engineering adding some more functional power genes. Garit's well advised to be careful around drunken construction.

  Xen shook his head. "I thought, since they'd spent a week making giant pipes all the way from the mountain that they'd be tired, and I could just show them the sort of thing I was thinking of. To build sometime in the future. I thought they might have some suggestions."

  "A grotto! They need a grotto!" Zip's voice.

  Xen hustled around to the back.

  "Yeah, a big long scoop thataway . . . " Ech waved his hands and huge chunk of dirt flew off to form a small hill to the side.

  "Make the sides irregular, we need little nooks of privacy, maybe a cave . . . " Cor was suiting action to words, as the whole group focused on the hole—easily thirty feet deep and several hundred feet long.

  "Now, wait just a minute here. I don't think we really need whatever a grotto is, and if you mean this long ditch, it'll just be a mosquito swamp after the first rain . . . " Poor Q, trying to argue with the a merged collection of powerful men.

  "Q, come away." Xen hovered at the edge of the activity zone. Quick, divert them! "Hey, Q, do you think we'll have enough witches for cooking contests? We need a restaurant with a big kitchen up here by the road."

  "Xen! They need to stop! Don't give them any ideas."

  But the mages were looking over where Xen was pointing, and wandered that direction.

  Havi nodded. "Yeah, must have a kitchen and restaurant . . . "

  Xen backed away. "Umm, and food. Umm, wouldn't dinner be great, right about now?" He kept talking, as walls rose, weird pointy corners, an irregular fat star shape . . .

  He backed off and started pulling stuff out of bubbles. Tables, chairs, big covered pots of hot food . . .

  The smell did the trick, the guys' heads turning, the magic slowing, stopping as they reeled apart, suddenly looking weary and headachy. Not nearly as tired and headachy as anyone sensible would be. The old guys know a trick or three, don't they?

  Garit looked around with a grin. "And, do you know, I think we ought to schedule the work on the Comet Fall embassy for when we've got observers from both the Earth and the Empire here. If that doesn't impress them, nothing will."

  ***

  Once the mages were sacked out and snoring, Q made a quick trip to the beach and returned with bubbles full of sand. She and Xen spent the next day glazing the windows and the pyramid . . . she failed to resist and added a layer of dark mica from the basalt. It darkened the windows enough to maintain the threatening hulk of angular black rock aspect.

  "It's dark as all hell inside here." Xen complained.

  "There's some very pretty cross grained sandstone out there. Slice thin sheets and meld them to the walls." Q walked into the council chamber and pondered the empty space. If it sank a bit toward the podium, into that mostly useless basement, the visibility would be better. And then I think I'll just buy carpeting and upholstered benches and desks. Umm, go for a look somewhere between the Earth's and the Oner's big council rooms . . . furniture . . . hire some staff. We'll have to set up some bank accounts in all three worlds, and set up payroll so they have local currency and home currency, as they wish. Huh. Local currency, we need some neutral coinage we can use here.

  And places to spend it.

  And places to live. I'll have to throw up some small houses around the grotto.

  Old Gods! This is hideously complicated!

  And I'm probably being naïve and simplistic.

  Chapter Eleven

  15 Shaban 1400 yp

  Paris, One World

  "Rael?"

  Rael looked around to find both her bosses hovering in the doorway. She gestured them in. Silly, these manners. The president can go wherever he wishes. But Orde and Urfa always ask, and that's just one more reason we're all so loyal to them.

  "We just talked to Endi. We've suggested that he attach the permanent gate to this Embassy World within the grounds of the Gate Complex, but on the far side of the warehouse area, where we can throw up another security zone. Agni . . . is not a happy man."

  Rael swallowed, dry mouthed. "So it's really going to happen. This is . . . one of those sudden step transformations that changes the whole world, like the arrival of the Prophets. Except this time it's going to affect the entire multiverse."

  The president nodded. "The risk is worth the potential. Just the opportunity to talk to Earth will be incredible."

  "And the Council wanted in on it, and once it leaked," Urfa tried for an innocent look, then gave it up. "There was no chance of keeping it secret. So there will be reporters and vid cams everywhere . . . "

  Orde glared at him. "And someone thinks my being there would be too much of a risk, so he's hogging the limelight."

  "With the election three months away . . . Orde's well ahead now, but this news may shake a few things up."

  Rael cocked her head. "So you test the waters before you jump into the deep end. I can see where everyone could be apprehensive . . . there's not enough time to show the positive, the possibilities, is there? What can I do to help?"

  Urfa clasped his hands on the desk top. "Rael . . . you are our secret weapon. Our . . . surprise attack, our way to throw Endi off balance."

  She swallowed. "So . . . you don't want me in the first party to this Embassy World?" I am not relieved. Not. I am not afraid to see that man again. And definitely not tempted. Not!

  "Not at first. We need to check out the situation, what the Earth is doing . . . and whether there really is a Department of Interdimensional Security and Cooperation, outside Mr. Dewulfe's fertile imagination." Orde shifted uncomfortably. "We may need to . . . I don't know. Recruit Endi? Blackmail him? Get information out of him, certainly."

  Urfa nodded. "Or just distract him, if we need to do something a bit underhanded. This is such an opportunity to gather information on Earth . . ."

  "It's an opportunity to expand our horizons, to become a piece of a human civilization so much larger than the Empire. Not, mind you, a part of some greater government." The President shifted again. "I hate being so deep in the dark. So we're not going to show our hand until everyone's done betting and we've got a glimpse behind their poker faces."

  Rael nodded. "Right . . . I . . . don't know that I qualify as a
femme fatale, but I'll give it my best shot, when you need it." Oh dear One. What if he . . . doesn't care? What if he's repulsed by all the scars, the damage?

  Urfa looked at her, worry lines across his forehead. "I have no idea how he'll react . . . he never asked, and I never volunteered any information about you. Was he hiding a vulnerability, or indifference? Don't . . . "

  He never asked . . . but he came . . . She nodded. "And after four years, well, we'll find out, at need."

  Urfa leaned back. "So, I'm working with Agni, curse the man, to put together a home team of analysts to dissect everything that happens across. Even Agni agrees you should be on it."

  "Eep!" Rael swallowed. "Well, I never expected to live in Gate City, but life is just full of surprises."

  President Orde grinned. "You'll need to come back and report regularly. We'll keep your barracks room and offices untouched, so you can pretend you're just visiting Gate City."

  Urfa cleared his throat. "If you start feeling like killing Agni, please just hop on the next flight and come back. I still need the son-of-a-camel."

  Rael snickered . . . sobered. I remember Agni, when the assassins struck. He jumped straight in to protect the president. No hesitation, no calculating of his own advantage. He has a lot of credit in the bank of don't-kill-the-jerk. But Dear One, that doesn't stop him from being a loud-mouthed blowhard asshole.

  Chapter Twelve

  10 September 3515 ce

  The Hague, European Union

  "No, gentlemen. We are not going through with tanks." President Howard Carmichael glowered. "Just this once, let's try for a peaceful meeting with the One World monsters. I don't like the idea of genetic engineering any more than you do, but the era of our hegemony has apparently passed. We need to consider peaceful trade with the One World, or the Empire of the One as they apparently call it. We need to negotiate a split between their sphere of influence, and ours."

 

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