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Retreat, Hell - Episode 11
🕑 Added 2019-12-23 12:25:52 +0000 UTCA/N: So, a little bit later than I had wanted to have this finished, but here it is! Episode 11! No action in this episode, more slice-of-life, with a bit of expose, and maybe a couple feels.
This one is a bit shorter than the last few, coming in at about 7130 words. This is also going to be Rinn's last trip to Earth for a while.
Episode 12 is moving ahead with the story. Only a day's advance, but the other artificers will be showing up, and you'll get to meet all of those characters, and experience all of their drama.
I don't want the training montage story arc to be too terribly long, but I'm expecting it to take up at least three episodes, probably five or six with the visit to the keshmin town that happens along the way, and all the adventures (and misadventures) associated with that.
After that, it's back into the war.
Episode 11.5 is also coming up soon, with a continuation of Tyriel's misadventures. I'm hoping to have that done before the holiday break is over.
Also, don't forget, I'm doing my first Q&A session on Saturday, the 28th, at 1700 Eastern. I'll be streaming on Twitch, and you can find me there at https://www.twitch.tv/ilithi_dragon
Now, without further ado...
EDIT: Added in a radio blurb that I'd been planning since I finished Episode 10.5! I'd had it drafted up in one of my notes files, and completely forgot about it!
Retreat, Hell – Episode 11
Rinn groaned as the van jostled over another rut on the road that lead past the Earth-side fortifications. He massaged at the migraine growing behind his eyeball. I’m not sure if this smaller van bounces more than the last one, or if the road’s just gotten worse…
“Hungover again, Rinn?” Bradford asked, poking him in the side. He grunted, drawing away from her. “You need to scale back on the late-night partying.”
“I wouldn’t call that a party…” he said, remembering the jittery mess he had been most of the night.
“Oh, for the first three hours, it was,” she laughed.
He groaned again, this time in embarrassment. Whatever had been in that “energy drink” had made him feel… absolutely incredible. It had also put him completely out of his head.
“So what did we learn?” she asked, giving him a patronizing smile.
He took a deep breath, recalling exactly what Kawalski had told him to say when she asked him that question. “Don’t put twinkies on your pizza.” He added a nod of certainty for effect, whatever “twinkies” and “pizza” were.
Bradford blinked at him in confusion, then snorted a laugh. “Goddamnit, Kawalski!”
Rinn shot her a sly smile, chuckling along with her, until another rut bounced his head off the window he was resting it against. It wasn’t a hard bump, but it jarred his headache. He groaned, and Bradford patted his arm in sympathy.
“Once we’re on the highway, you should probably just nap the rest of the way.”
He nodded, lifting his head clear of the window as the van bounced onto the paved road outside of the gate. Two big, black, blocking looking vehicles pulled onto the road around them.
“Hey, what’s with the black SUVs?” Bradford asked, tapping the seat in front of her and leaning forward to look at Lieutenant Bauder.
“Security,” he said, not looking up from his phone.
“You think we’ll need it?”
He sighed. “There’s always a few crazy people willing to do something stupid.” He looked at her over his shoulder. “Like traipsing an alien around down-town San Diego.” He shook his head, looking back to his phone. “They’re a precaution, hopefully not needed.”
“Aye, sir,” Bradford said, sitting back with her face twisted in an odd expression.
Rinn flicked a consoling ear at her. She caught the gesture and relaxed, patting his hand.
The music on the radio cut out, replaced by an urgent, pulsing chime, and their driver, Private Simmons turned it up.
“This is an ABC News Special Report.” A stern voice said. Rinn perked an ear up.
“A state-wide manhunt continues today,” said another voice, “For the man responsible for the brutal murder of a Fallbrook family and the death of a County Deputy. Reports that the man is actually an elven operative who managed to evade military forces at the portal have now officially been confirmed. Shakira Freeman has more.”
The familiar thunder of a helicopter flying overhead rumbled out of the radio as Rinn perked both ears. “Army spokesperson Colonel Michael Shin confirmed this morning that suspect being pursued was an elf, an enemy combatant believed to be some form of special operative. When and how he came through the portal are not known at this time. Army, National Guard, and Air Force resources have now been mobilized to assist County, State and Federal police forces in the search. State and County police forces have set up a temporary HQ here at the Pala Fire Department, and say that they are closing in on the enemy combatant. Reports came in not thirty minutes ago of a brief firefight with one of the tracking parties, but no further word has been received other than the elf is still at large and officers are still in pursuit.”
Rinn looked at Bradford, his pulse quickening, as the other voice came back on. “Authorities urge civilians to report any sightings and avoid contact. The elf is a confirmed enemy combatant, and is armed and extremely dangerous. Citizens in the Pala area are directed to remain inside, lock or secure all doors and windows, and immediately report any unusual sightings or occurrences. We will continue to keep you updated as this situation unfolds.”
“This has been an ABC News Special Report,” declared the first voice, as the urgent music came back on and faded away. Simmons turned the volume back down.
“That’s not where we’re going,” Bauder said, swiping at something on his phone. “There’s not much more that you can do to help, and at this point, you’d probably just get in the way.”
He turned to Bradford again, and she shrugged, her face scrunching in sympathy. “Sometimes, you just gotta let other people do their jobs.”
“I know…” he sighed, deflating as the spike of energy dribbled away. His ears laid flat against his skull as he looked out his window. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she said, patting his shoulder. “But your desire to help is appreciated.”
His ears slowly rolled back up from their depression, and he gave her an appreciative nod. As unnerving as their excessive touching was at first, it brings a strange comfort now…
As they continued down the freeway, he laid his head back against the glass. The great, paved road was smooth, and Private Simmons was much less… aggressive than Kawalski. Rinn felt the few short, restless hours of sleep he had managed to get the night before pulling on him, and closed his eyes.
He dozed off before he even realized he was drifting, but woke again barely thirty minutes later when the van jerked to a stop. Outside was a paved road with great buildings and military aircraft lining one side of it. In front of the van was a sleek-looking craft that didn’t sport any weapons he could see. “We’re flying?”
“Unless you want to spend ten hours driving, yes,” Bauder said, opening his door and stepping out of the van.
Bradford smiled at him, unbuckling her seatbelt. “C’mon, I’ve never been in a private jet before.”
Rinn leveraged himself up and followed her out of the van and into the aircraft. It’s cramped, but there is more luxury here than most lords would ever see…
He was directed to an extremely comfortable seat. He buckled the seatbelt as Bradford reached across the aisle from her seat to tap his arm. “Hey, check it out, they recline all the way!
He looked over to see her holding a button on her armrest while her chair slowly swung back until it was almost a bed.
His ears perking up, he looked at his own armrest, and after a little experimenting, he found the button that set his chair to leaning back. He sighed happily as he settled himself into the reclined chair, shifting his tail around so it wouldn’t fall asleep under him. He heard Bradford say something as his eyes drooped, but it didn’t matter, and the darkness claimed him.
***
Rinn snapped awake as the craft jerked with a great squelching sound. He looked out the little, rounded window he sat beside, his ears perked in alarm. They were settling onto a great, paved road, but the buildings and background were very different. Did I sleep the entire way?
“Ah, Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake,” Bradford said.
He looked over at her with a frown. Did she just… No, it’s another culture reference I don’t understand… At least I’m getting better at spotting them.
“Welcome to San Francisco,” she said. “If I’d thought ahead, we’d’ve got some flowers to put in your hair.”
He rolled his ears, and after some further experimentation, found the button that brought his chair back upright. He maintained an even stair with her the entire time.
She laughed.
“Come on,” Bauder said, stepping past them. “Our ride is waiting for us. We’re being picked up right off the plane.”
Rinn stood up, rubbing his head as the migraine slowly made its presence known again.
“Makes you feel like a movie star,” Bradford said, as they made their way down the short ladder, nodding at the three, black SUVs waiting for them. “Normally we’d have to go through airport security.”
They all piled into one of the SUVs, and minutes later had left the airport.
Almost immediately after getting on another highway, their small caravan left it. Driving past several large buildings and parking lots, they pulled into another lot with many small and large vehicles pulling in and out of it.
“I don’t know about you two, but I need my morning coffee,” Bauder said.
Bradford made a face. “Sure, sir, but Starbucks?”
“You don’t like Starbucks, Sergeant?”
“I don’t like over-priced diabetes in a cup, sir.”
“Fair enough,” he said, pulling out a notepad. “What will you all have?”
“Large coffee, black,” Bradford said, reaching into her pocket.
Bauder waved her off. “I’ve got this. I make more than all of you, combined,” he added, when Bradford made to protest.
She shrugged, and sat back.
“I’m getting paid?” Rinn asked, his ears waggling at the old army joke, even as he tried to rub sleep and the migraine out of his eye.
Bradford and Bauder chuckled, and she narrowed her eyes at him in consideration. “A small, black coffee for Rinn, with plenty of sugar and creamer on the side.” She turned back to Rinn. “A hair of the dog that bit you.”
“What?” He frowned, his left ear sweeping back, while his right quirked up at her.
“It’s a saying… a metaphor.” She hesitated, and for a moment he could swear he saw her ears trying to sweep back. “Mostly for alcoholics.”
He nodded. “A taste of the demon that cursed you.”
“Ha, yeah, that.” She smiled, then tilted her head. “…. Yours is cooler.”
Bauder finished writing on his notepad and looked at their driver. “And you, Mister…?”
“Simmons,” the driver said. He was a large human, deep-voiced and barrel-chested, and wore the same black uniform with white undershirt and black bolt of cloth tied about his neck as the rest of their “security escort.” It was very trim, almost anonymous, and coupled with his tinted glasses, intimidating.
Rinn quirked an ear. He doesn’t look like Private Simmons… Is that a common surname?
“What do you want, Simmons?”
“I’ll have a venti salted caramel mocha crème Frappuccino with almond milk, an extra shot, and five extra pumps,” he said, staring deadpan ahead.
Bradford slowly turned to stare at him. “That has to be one of the most basic-white-bitch orders I have ever heard. The only thing you’re missing is pumpkin spice. Do you want an insulin shot with that?”
“No, ma’am,” Simmons said, still deadpan.
Bradford shook her head, turning to Rinn. “This is why we have an obesity problem in this country.”
Rinn shrugged as Bauder finished writing the order, tore off a sheet from his notepad, and handed it out his window to another, almost faceless member of their security team.
He sat back and closed his eyes as they fell into silence, drifting off again despite his migraine.
He awoke once more to a very intriguing smell as four cups were passed in Bauder’s window. Three of a rather large size were passed amongst the humans, while a fourth of a much more reasonable size was passed to him.
With a sniff of the steaming brew, he tilted his head and perked an ear up in curiosity. “Here, you might want these,” Bradford said, handing him a small, brown paper bag as the SUV pulled out of the lot and headed back towards the highway. He turned to her, quirking his other ear up. “Cream and sugar, she said, laughing as her eyes tracked his ear. “Coffee can be an acquired taste.”
Nodding, he turned back to his cup and gingerly sampled the brew. Hmm… Hot. But… Not terrible. He glanced around, holding cup and bag, and Bradford reached into the backrest between them, folding down a cleverly-concealed arm rest with conveniently-placed and -sized holes to hold his cup.
“It’s got cupholders!” She smiled, giving him a wink.
He gave her an appreciative nod, and set his cup in the holder. He rummaged in the bag for a moment, and after a little finagling, he figured out how to remove the lid and add one packet of sugar and one tiny little cup of creamer all on his own. All while Bradford sat back and watched him while she sipped her own coffee, silently laughing with her eyes.
He carefully mixed the brew with a tiny, little stick that seemed to have been purpose-made to do that and be disposed of. He sampled it by licking the stick clean, and with a nod of satisfaction, put the lid back on.
“What do you think?” she asked, giving him an expectant look.
“I’ve had tea that was more bitter. It was terribly made, but I had to pretend it wasn’t.” He took a cautious sip. “This has other flavors, besides just bitter.” He took another sip and nodded. “It’s pleasant enough, now.”
They settled into a comfortable silence for a moment as their caravan breezed around and past the other traffic on the road.
By the time they reached another great bridge, Rinn’s headache had started to recede, and he was feeling much more awake.
Bradford took another sip of her coffee, then turned to him. “What was your ocarina like?”
“What do you mean?” he asked cocking his head and flicking an ear at the unexpected question.
“Like, what kind was it?” She held up her hands. “Was it a big one, little one? Was it square, ovoid? How many holes did it have?”
“It was…” he set his coffee down and held up a hand. “About as long as my hand. It was a common design, round, but narrow, with twelve finger holes.”
“Did you play it a lot?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “More than my seilei.” He shrugged. “It’s easier to carry, and I kept my seilei with my full kit, which I didn’t always have to hand.” He sighed. “I didn’t take it with me to the battle, for fear it would be broken.”
“What color was it?” She took another sip of her coffee.
He shook his head. “It was just the dull red of the clay it was made out of. It wasn’t a fine instrument. I couldn’t afford one.” He frowned. “I only even had my seilei because it had been in my family for three generations.” His ears wilted at the thought of all that he had lost in that battle, despite all that had been gained.
Bradford placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Who taught you to play?”
“My father taught me the seilei,” he said, his ears perking up at the happy memories. “It was his, and his father’s before him. He wooed my mother with it.”
“Oooh, romantic,” Bradford winked at him as she sipped her coffee. “Did he teach you the ocarina, too?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I learned that myself. A friend at university had bought one, but couldn’t carry a tune, so he gave it to me.”
“And did you woo any girls with it?” she asked, giving him a devilish grin.
His ears swept back and he looked down with an embarrassed smile. “A couple…”
“You dog!” she laughed, tapping his arm. “Good for you.” She took another sip of her coffee, leaning onto the armrest between them. “So was that the ocarina you had?”
“No,” he snorted. “Yahgi saw me bring a couple girls… back to our dorm with it,” he said, pushing through an awkward pause, “And he took it back, determined to do the same.” He shrugged. “Since he took his back, I had to go and buy one of my own.” He took another sip of his coffee, and gave her a mischievous smile with a sidelong glance. “And, of course, I had to use it to steal the girl he was trying to woo with his ocarina. He still couldn’t carry a tune, after all.”
Bradford snorted out a giggle. “You didn’t!”
He nodded, his ears perking at her laughter. “I did! I still don’t think he’s forgiven me for it, despite them getting married the following year.” He sipped his coffee. “Last I heard, they had two daughters.”
Bradford chuckled. “Good for them.”
He smiled, his headache completely vanished, and they spent the rest of the trip talking more about the instruments he lost, sharing anecdotes of both of their experiences in university, and comparing the behaviors of the students of each species. They found much in common.
***
“The University at Yagyhanae is taller…”
Bradford laughed. “Did they have you studying in a proper mage tower?”
Rinn gave her a sidelong glance with his eyes and his left ear before turning back to gaze over the sprawling campus. “It was taller.” He looked back to the laboratory building they were approaching. “And it had a game preserve…”
“Wouldn’t mind that,” Bauder said as they walked through the doors, along with six members of their security detail.
“Lieutenant Bauder, I presume,” a man said, straightening from the counter he had been leaning on and stepping forward. His unruly brown hair was much longer than any of the Marines, except Bradford’s, and he wore a white jacket over a shirt with words painted on it, and jeans. “I’m Alistair, Alistair Fredericks.” He held out a hand. “I’m Doctor Yin’s assistant.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Bauder said, shaking his hand. “This is Sergeant Bradford, and Second Artificer Ahya,” he added, nodding to each of them in turn.
Alistair shook Bradford’s hand, then extended his to Rinn. He flicked his ears forward and nodded as he shook the man’s hand in the human way. “It’s nice to meet you,” he yipped quietly.
Releasing Rinn’s hand, Alistair stood back, suddenly short of breath. “Oh my god… I just shook hands with an alien. I just met an alien! Oh my god!” He looked at Bauder. “What did he say?”
“He said ‘It’s nice to meet you,’” Bradford said. She glanced at Rinn, suppressing a smile. He flicked an ear at her, but otherwise kept his face stony.
“Ohhh, you can understand him! How can you understand him? Do you speak- Wait, right, we got briefed on this.” He took a deep breath, and grinned. “Magic!”
“Yes, he’s an alien, and he’s hear to help you figure out magic,” Bauder rolled his eyes as he pulled his phone out to check on it. “I’m sure there’s a lot of work to do, and we don’t have all day.”
“Yes! Um, sorry,” Alistair gave them a sheepish smile, then pulled himself back into a more professional demeanor. “Dr. Yin is already in the lab, waiting for us. If you’ll follow me.”
He turned and led them through a door off the main lobby, that was almost immediately backed by a security guard sitting behind a table in front of another, locked door.
“IDs, please.” The guard looked at them as if they were the most boring inconvenience of his entire day.
Alistair held up a badge that was clipped to his jacket and was waved aside by the guard. Bradford and Bauder both pulled out their own ID cards and presented them, then were handed badges with a big V on them.
“And his ID?” the guard asked, waving at Rinn.
Bradford glanced at him, then back to the guard. “…. Heee… doesn’t have any.”
“…. Right.”
“He should be on the access list,” Bauder said.
“Yes. He is the entirety of our alien visitor access list.” The guard gave Bauder a deadeye stare. “How do I know it’s him?”
Bauder sighed. “We’re escorting him.”
“Very well,” the guard said, as if he could only barely be bothered to go along with the idea. He handed Rinn a different badge with a big E on it. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere unescorted.”
“I’ll do that,” Bauder sighed again.
They stepped off to the side and waited as four of their escort detail showed ID and got visitor badges. The other two had stayed in the lobby.
With everyone badged up, the guard pressed a button next to him and the door unlocked with a buzzing sound. Bradford grabbed the door and swung it open, and they all filed through.
Alistair led them down the hallway towards the lab.
“You said you’re Doctor Yin’s assistant?” Bauder asked.
“Yes. I’ve actually been working with her for a while now, and she just recently helped me complete my Masters.” He glanced at Bauder and Bradford with a smile, his chest puffing up a bit. “I have a Masters in particle physics, and a Bachelor’s of Science is electrical engineering, and just started working on a doctorate.” He chuckled. “I was starting my doctoral thesis on electromagnetic confinement for fusion plasma containment, which is something that I’ve wanted to work on since… well, since high school.” He shrugged and waved a hand. “But that’s gone out the window now that I have the opportunity to be one of the first people to write a doctoral thesis on the science behind magic.” He shook his head, laughing. “Still can’t believe I’m saying that…”
“I still can’t believe you don’t know what magic is,” Rinn muttered to Bradford.
“Alright, so here we are!” Alistair said, pushing open the doors to the lab.
Inside was a startling array of equipment that Rinn couldn’t even begin to quantify, interspersed with crates of mana crystals and captured elven equipment. Several more humans with white coats were scattered about the lab.
“Dr. Yin!” Alistair called. “They’re here!”
“Oh, good!” a short woman turned around, tucking her long, black hair behind an ear as she walked over to meet them. Rinn quirked an ear. She barely comes up to my chin! And her eyes are squinty… he tilted his head, comparing her to Bradford. Their skin comes in so many different shades…
“Dr. Yin, this is Lieutenant Bauder, Sergeant Bradford, and Second Artificer Rinn.” She smiled at them, and Rinn dipped his head in greeting. “Dr. Yin has been given the lead on this project.”
“More like been tasked with herding cats,” she smiled, shaking her head, as the others came over to join them, and gape at Rinn. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the team.” She started going down the line, sharing their names. Rinn shook a lot of hands, but very quickly lost track of who was who, or what their names even were.
“I hope you remembered everyone’s name,” he muttered to Bradford.
“Nope,” she muttered back, then gave him a wink. “But I can read nametags.”
“Now that introductions are out of the way, shall we get started?” Bauder said. “We’re only here for today.”
“Yes, of course!” Yin turned and lead them across the lab. “As you can see, we’ve already started doing some preliminary testing, and I know more have been sent to other labs for additional testing, but we’re really at a loss for where to even begin.”
“We’ve been doing impedance testing, spectrography, and we’re getting samples ready to test with a laser interferometer,” Alistair added, “And other samples we’re going to try bombarding with different types of radiation just to see what happens, but so far we haven’t gotten a whole lot, and we don’t really know what we do have means.”
“Where do you want me to start?” Rinn asked, with Bradford translating.
Yin smiled. “With everything.”
Rinn spent the next several hours explaining how mana crystals were condensed mana drawn from the ether, demonstrating different effects, and identifying and explaining the function of different pieces of equipment. He spent nearly an hour giving his best explanation for the two leading theories of what the ether was while activating different artifices while they were being monitored by different pieces of equipment.
Almost all of which was elven, which added a layer of difficulty and mystery to his own efforts, as well as awe.
He snorted, shaking his head, as he marveled at the latest device they had him manipulating.
“Is something wrong?” Yin asked.
“No,” he said, flicking his ears dismissively as he set the device back down. “It’s just…” He glanced about, gesturing at the treasure trove of captured elven equipment. “Our researchers would have killed to have an opportunity to capture even a tenth of this.” He shook his head looking about the room. “And here we stand, in a room full of it.”
“What did he say?” Yin asked, looking at Bradford when she didn’t translate immediately.
“They’ve been fighting the elves a long time and never captured anything close to this,” she waved at the room.
Yin nodded. “I see.”
“So,” Alistair said. “We’ve been testing elven equipment all day,” he said, stressing the word with almost a giggle, “But I see you’ve brought something of your own.” He nodded at the stave Rinn had kept slung over his shoulder. “Is that something we can test?”
“Yes,” he said, unslinging the stave. “That’s why I brought it.”
Alistair’s face lit up as Bradford translated. “Is that your wizard staff?!”
Rinn just stared at him, flicking an ear away.
“It’s called a stave,” Bradford said. “And he’s an artificer, not a wizard.”
“Right, uh, sorry, it’s just…”
“He’s a big dee-and-dee nerd,” Yin said, leaning over to Bradford and Rinn.
Bradford nodded, as if this explained everything. Rinn quirked an ear at her, and she winked back at him. He snorted. Humans…
The next hour was spent putting his stave through many of the same tests, while also demonstrating shield and active enchantment artifices.
“I can also shoot various shardbursts and other offensive spells with it,” he said, closing down his latest shield demonstration.
Alistair’s eyes turned into dinner plates, and he slowly turned to Yin, a pleading expression on his face.
Yin looked at him, then looked at another “scientist” standing beside her. This one was a tall man with bronze skin and silver hair. He nodded. “I think we have a lab room that will work.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were crowded into one end of a room that felt to him like it was more of a long hallway. The other end was a series of impromptu targets, and a series of instruments had been set up to monitor the whole thing.
Someone handed him a pair of clear plastic glasses. He stared at them. “Safety first,” Yin said, as everyone else donned theirs. He shrugged, and spent a moment finding a placement that kept the side pieces hooked over his ears without falling off or obscuring his vision.
Satisfied, he double-checked that everyone was ready.
“Let ‘er rip!” said Yin.
Nodding, he turned to the targets, and grinned. In rapid succession, he shot a shardbolt, fireburst, iceburst, and shockbolt into the targets, slapping all four of them in less than two seconds. He followed up with a shardburst that put fragments into all of them, and topped it off with an overcharged fireburst that engulfed all of the targets in flame.
Everyone but Bradford stared in shock as smoke roiled up from the targets and a piercing alarm started going off.
“That. Was. AWESOME!” Alistair shouted, shoving both fists into the air as a nozzle clicked above them and started spraying water across the room.
Rinn quickly threw a shield up to deflect the water while the other scientists cursed and ran to shut off whatever artifice had been triggered.
Bradford beamed at him and gave him a pat on the back. “I’m proud of you.” He dipped an ear at her, and smiled.
“So,” Alistair said, once they had turned the water and the alarm off, and made a number of calls to the university’s security, and the local fire brigade, “Is there anything that thing can’t do?” He nodded at Rinn’s stave.
“Not much,” Rinn said, with Bradford translating. “It is specialized for war, but it is designed to channel most spells I can come up with.”
“So what does it actually do?” the silver-haired scientist asked.
“It both acts as a mana booster, providing an efficient and controlled supply of mana from mana crystals,” he tapped the partially-depleted crystal set into the stave’s receiver. “And as a tool to simplify spell use.”
“What do you mean, simplify spell use?” Yin asked. “Does it make it easier to manipulate… magic?”
“In a way.” Rinn paused, considering how best to explain, looking at Bradford and giving her an apologetic dip of an ear. I know she’s getting tired of playing translator. “When casting a spell, an artificer can wholly create the artifice in his mind and channel that through the stave so that the stave provides the power. The only difference between casting a spell with the stave is that it can tie in the energy of a mana crystal, more safely and efficiently than if the artificer were to attempt to draw the power straight from a mana crystal themselves.”
He paused, using the time it took Bradford to translate to order his thoughts. He received a series of nods when she finished. “Doing that, however, requires a lot of concentration, especially for complex spells. It still requires considerable focus even with simple spells, and often takes time to cast. The artificer has to collect the spell in his head, and so-on.”
He waited again for the translation and the nods. “A stave,” he held his up, “Can also be used to store the spell structure of an artifice, allowing the artificer to quickly select and employ which type of artifice he desires to use. Rather than recreating the entire artifice in his mind, the artificer merely needs to recreate the trigger, and the stave will do the rest of the work. Skilled artificers can also use the stave almost as an extension of themselves, shaping and manipulating the artifice through the stave, without having to hold the entire picture of the artifice in their mind.”
“It’s like a memory bank!” Alistair said, when Bradford had completed her translation. “Or a computer…”
“It can store memories of spells, in a sense, yes…” Rinn raised one ear up in curiosity. I haven’t seen anything to suggest they can store memories… But it wouldn’t surprise me…
“He doesn’t mean literal memory storage,” Bradford said, smiling like she could read his mind. “It’s more in the same sense that I call my pocket notebook a pocket brain.”
“Oh,” Rinn nodded, his ears flicking back. That makes so much more sense…
“Are there bigger ones?” Alistair asked.
“Yes, but they’re not staves,” Rinn said. He pointed his tail at a crate of larger mana crystals. “The greater energy draw requires more rigid, specialized construction, otherwise they can burn out. Proper artillery can only shoot different types of spellshot, inscribed on spellframes. Our heaviest artillery pieces must be dedicated to a specific type of spellshot.”
“Fascinating…” Yin muttered. “And can anyone use this artillery?”
“No,” he shook his head. “It still requires an artificer to trigger the spell, though even the weakest artificer can do so.” He paused, and Bradford took the opportunity to slip a translation in before he continued. “The artillery pieces of our naval ships do have complicated trigger mechanisms that allow anyone to fire them, since they are by nature limited in the number of artificers aboard, but the devices are difficult and expensive to make, and I don’t actually know how they work.”
“We’ll have to see if we can get our hands on one of them,” Yin said.
“I’m sure we can make some kind of arrangement,” Bauder said, wandering over to rejoin the group.
“Excellent!” She smiled.
“May I?” Alistair asked, gesturing at the stave.
“You may,” Rinn nodded, handing it over.
The young man took it with care, holding it up to examine closely. He traced the fine, intertwining patterns of gold and platinum with a finger. He raised an eyebrow when Rinn confirmed that it was platinum. He ran his finger down to the two-pronged, gold-platinum alloy head of the stave.
“And these here,” he said, pointing to the two gems set into the base of the stave head. “What gems are these?”
“Tourmaline.”
His finger traced around to touch the gemstones at the base of each prong. “And these?”
“Berlinite.”
“And these?” he asked, touching the two gems set into the inner curve between the two prongs.
“Topaz.”
“Hmmm…” Alistair frowned at them, his expression scrunched up like he was missing something.
“They’re all piezoelectric,” Bradford said.
“Holy shit, you’re right!” Alistair held the stave out in front of him, as if seeing it in an all new light. He gave Bradford a suspicious glance, then turned back to the stave, frowning at it again. “I have no idea how that is significant.”
That conversation kicked off a whole new battery of tests that lasted another hour-and-a-half, including another trip to the “range,” this time with a less intense barrage.
Rinn was just finishing another salvo of shardbolts when Bauder tapped him on the shoulder. “It’s time to go. Sergeant Bradford has a couple stops she wants to make while we’re in the area, and we have a flight to catch.”
He nodded, and began carefully disconnecting the latest set of wires that had been taped to his stave.
A few minutes later, and Alistair was seeing them back to the lobby. “Well, it’s certainly been fun, and fascinating, but I think you’ve left us with more questions than answers.”
“I hope I at least helped,” Rinn said, flicking his ears back for a moment.
“Oh, absolutely!” Alistair said. “It’ll be a long while before we really start answering our questions, but I think you’ve got us asking the right questions, and you’ve given us a direction to start in.”
“Knowing your ass from your elbows certainly helps,” Bradford smiled.
“I wouldn’t say we’re that far along, yet,” Alistair smiled. “But we’ll get there.” He held his hand out. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
They took turns shaking hands, and when Rinn’s turn came around, he grasped Alistair’s forearm and shook it in the Ganlin way. “It was an experience.”
Alistair looked down in surprise at the unexpected grip, then back up at Rinn. “Alien cultures!” he grinned.
Rinn swept his ears back and shook his head as he let go. Bradford looked like she wanted to smash her palm into her face.
“See you around!” Alistair waved as they left, surrounded by their security detachment.
Once back in the SUV, Rinn sat back with a sigh. That was fun, though I think I have as many questions as they do… He frowned as another thought occurred to him. “Lieutenant Bauder… Why did I come here today?”
Bauder looked at him over his shoulder after Bradford translated. “To help us figure out magic.”
“Well, yes, I get that,” Rinn said. “But why me? I’m just a field artificer. There are plenty of learned scholars who would have been perfect for this, who would jump at the chance for it, and I can’t believe my kingdom wouldn’t want to send someone to help you, and learn as much in the process.”
The lieutenant put his phone away and turned around in his seat to more squarely look at Rinn. “Because you’re available now. The research agreements we’re working out with your people are very promising, but they’re bogged down in politics.” He glanced out the front window as they made their way back through town. “And to be completely honest,” he said, turning back to Rinn. “You’re not expected to have any ulterior motive.”
“I see,” Rinn said as Bauder sat back down in his chair and pulled out his phone, ending the conversation.
He settled into silence once more as their caravan worked its way through the city, taking in the sights this new human city had to offer.
They had just crossed back over the long bridge, and Rinn was really starting to wonder why Bradford hadn’t said a word, when he realized their route was diverging from the one they had taken on the way to Berkeley. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” Bradford said, smiling.
He gave her a suspicious glance.
“Sergeant Bradford made a compelling argument that it was a good idea to show you significant landmarks while we were passing by.”
Rinn glanced at Bauder, then back at Bradford. With a roll of his ears, he sighed, and settled back in his seat to wait.
He didn’t have to wait long. Another ten minutes, and they had cleared the large buildings. In the distance ahead, he caught a glimpse of something, and he knew that was their goal. He leaned forward to get a better look, but was cut off by a series of tunnels.
By the time they cleared the tunnels and the trees, it was right there. He leaned forward again.
“The Golden Gate Bridge,” Bradford said. “Built over eighty years ago. At the time, it was the longest suspension bridge in the world. Still one of the tallest.”
Rinn gaped at this latest feat of engineering. It suspends itself! He twisted around to keep it in sight as the SUVs pulled off into a parking lot just before a set of booths and the bridge itself.
“We’re not stopping, just looping the parking lot,” Bauder said. “You’ve seen it, and we’ve got a plane to catch, so we don’t have time to linger.” He turned to look over his shoulder at Bradford. “Especially if you want to make that other stop.”
She nodded. “That’s fine. I just wanted him to have the chance to see it.” She turned to Rinn. “It’s one of America’s iconic landmarks, right up there with the Statue of Liberty and the Washington Monument.”
Rinn nodded, his eyes locked on the bridge as they circled the lot, and followed another road to jump around to the other side of the highway. So many of their roads are one-way only… But it makes sense, given the speeds they travel at.
Thirty minutes later, their entire caravan pulled to a halt at the side of another street. “I’ll be right back,” Bradford said, shoving her cover onto her head and all but jumping through the door. She quick-marched down the street and into a shop.
He watched her go, an ear quirked up in confusion, and five minutes later watched her march back up the street, a bag in her left hand and a satisfied grin on her face. “Everything goes so smoothly when you pay in advance online!” she said, hopping back into the SUV. She had no sooner shut the door than their caravan was off again.
Rinn quirked a curious ear at her, and she just smiled. “It’s a surprise, for on the plane.”
He narrowed his eyes, but accepted it, and spent the next thirty minutes all but twitching in his seat, wondering what Bradford was going to jump him with this time.
Finally reaching the airport, their caravan drove out onto the runway, right up to the plane that was waiting for them.
“Just to be clear,” Bradford said. “This isn’t normal.”
“None of this is normal for me.”
She laughed, stepping out of the SUV and stretching. “Fair enough.”
Walking around the front of the SUV, she tapped the metal cover over the driving artifice. “Don’t forget your insulin, Simmons!” she shouted, pointing a finger-gun at him.
Rinn saw their former driver raise a fist and extend his middle finger.
Bradford grinned, and they all filed onto the plane.
Unlike the previous trip, Bradford took the seat next to his. She was practically wiggling in excitement, the mystery bag gripped in both hands. “Watch your window,” she said. “You were out cold for the take-off last time.”
He gave her a suspicious eye and ear, but complied. I did want to see this…
He didn’t have long to wait. A short time after the door was pulled shut and secured, a deep hum rumbled behind them, spooling to a higher-pitched whine. A moment later, the plane began to move, lining itself up at one end of a long stretch of pavement.
They waited a moment, and Rinn saw another plane gliding down to land on a strip parallel to theirs.
Then the plane lurched, and the whine spooled from an idling rumble to a high whine, and they began to accelerate. He watched out the window as they sped down the paved strip, and then with a slight bounce, they were in the air.
The plane climbed higher, rolling and turning in a slow arc. His ears perked up when he heard a faint rumble and clunk beneath them. He glanced at Bradford.
“Retracting the landing gear.” He quirked an ear at her. “The wheels on the bottom.”
He flicked his ears back. Well, I guess that’s pretty obvious in hindsight…
The plane banked again, and continued to climb. He looked out the window again, amazed at how incredibly high they already were. His ears flicked from one side to the other. If I hadn’t already flown into battle, I would probably be terrified… He considered a moment more. If I’m being completely honest, a part of me is still a little bit terrified…
“Alright,” Bradford said, settling back in her chair and dropping the bag in his lap. “Since you lost yours.”
Confused, he cocked an ear at her, looking down at the bag. Cautiously, he opened the bag, and pulled out a box. He examined it for a moment, giving Bradford a suspicious glance. She gave him an innocent smile in return.
Slowly, expecting it to suddenly explode on him, he opened the box. Inside, he found a padded case. He frowned. Is this like a yibi-yabi-yobi doll? Just boxes inside of boxes?
Tilting his head, he opened the case. He gasped, his ears perking straight up, then falling limply to the sides as his mouth sags open.
Inside was a beautifully-crafted ocarina.
Carefully, he pulled it out of the case. It was not identical to his old one, though it was a similar size and shape. Unlike his old one, which had no glaze, this one gleamed with a beautiful, deep blue color.
He blinked, looked at Bradford, and blinked again, determined not to show tears. “I can’t…”
Bradford shook her head. “Making these things is a lot easier for us than for you. Even the really nice ones aren’t that expensive, and this is just a good one.”
He worked his jaw several times, licking the roof of his mouth, while Bradford gave him a happy but unyielding stare. He sighed, his ears sweeping back against his skull in humility, and he bowed his head to her. “Thank you. I… Thank you.”
“Play it.”
His ears shot out to the sides as he opened his mouth, then perked up at the idea. His right ear twitched, and he started to smile.
He set the bag, box, and case on the floor between his legs and held the ocarina, his ocarina. He took a moment to find his grip. It was the shape that gave an ocarina its sound, and this was close to his old one, but not exact. He twiddled his fingers over the holes, verifying their place while briefly limbering up.
He put the ocarina to his lips and briefly ran it up and down the scale. It hit pure on every note.
Bradford smiled, and nodded encouragingly.
Rinn closed his eyes and took a deep breath, collecting himself. What should I play…? One song rose up in his mind. On old melody, from the early years of the war. Many verses had been added since.
Positioning his fingers, he started to play.
It started out slow, with just a hint of sorrow, and a recurring, rhythmic beat that reflected lines of marching troops. The tune transitioned to bright and gallant, then stern and determined, and down to deep sorrow. It was a song of resistance, determination, and mourning for those bright souls lost to the war. It spoke of anguish for all those sacrificed for so little gain, and so many setbacks. It dove deep into the throes of that lament, but that gallant refrain kept reprising.
The last note trilled out, and he lowered the ocarina. He took a deep breath, and had to bring a hand up to wipe his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked over to see Bradford smiling at him, her own eyes glistening.
“That was beautiful.”
He simply nodded, unable to speak.
She rubbed his shoulder and squeezed again, giving him a warm smile.
Part of him wished she would do more, but that would not be appropriate.
“Thank you,” he said again, finally finding his voice.
“Any time,” she said, giving his shoulder a final pat before withdrawing her hand.
Rinn took a deep breath, and turned to his window, the ocarina clutched to his chest. The sun was setting to the west, casting long shadows across the Earth below. They were heading south, now. Back to the portal, back to the war.
He watched until the light of the sun had faded, and continued to watch as new lights, of civilization, shown below.
The song played through his head again, the tune of the gallant refrain reprising.
Comments
Paul Wirtz
Maybe it's the 'tuning' of the portal to find such a close match or maybe music is a universal (inter-universal) Language.
You and me both
