Spinspace: The Space of Spins (The Metaspace Chronicles Book 2) (9 page)

Chapter 22

Jeffrey
: jibber jabber

“But who will guard the guardians themselves?”

– Juvenal

He shifted slightly on the hard wooden chair in the waiting room.  Jeffrey would have preferred for his first meeting as Honcho with the Pontiff to be in his own headquarters, but had realized, with some annoyance, that good leadership can require compromise.  The spirit of cooperation between secular and religious authority in the Lone Star Empire which his father and grandfather had worked hard to craft was not something he would  jeopardize without good reason.

But is still rankled.  In his opinion the Church consumed real resources and offered only intangible benefits.  They didn't have to deal with crop forecasts, diplomatic intriguing, treaties, military advisors, and all the rest of the minutiae of running a government. Still, their influence among his people was undeniable.  It would be better to have them on his side.

Cardinal Dominguez emerged from the door into the papal audience chamber.  “You may go in now, Excellency.”

Finally.
He unwound to his feet and followed the red-robed  man into the chamber.

Enrique had made some changes since Jeffrey's last visit to the place, when Pope Rodrigo had departed his mortal body, carried off by the lead ball of an unseen assassin's swizzle gun.  The papal throne was surrounded on three sides by a tall barrier of wood covered with polished bronze, open only at the front.  As Jeffrey approached the seated Pontifex, he was watched carefully by the eyes of two guards, one on each side of the Holy Cubicle.

Enrique did not rise to greet him.  In response to the extended hand, Jeffrey followed his late father's example, and in lieu of kneeling to kiss the ring he reached out to give Ricky a firm handshake instead, hoping it annoyed the guards.

“Your Excellency, We are pleased that you have come again to visit Us.”

Jeffrey seated himself on the middle chair facing the throne.  “I'm happy you had time for me in your schedule, Holiness. I would be remiss if I did not thank you for the assistance of the Church in my father's last military venture, even if it did not succeed.”

“We grieve with thee for thy father's passing.  It would be easy to blame ourselves for our part in it.  If we had not helped him develop the fuel for his mobile weapons, your father Peter might still be among the living.”

Jeffrey shrugged.  “He died the way he would have wanted to, in battle.  No blame attaches to the Church from his actions.  He aimed for conquest and failed.  It happens in war.”

“How gracious for you to say so, Excellency.  Might We inquire as to the purpose of your visit, other than to inaugurate a relationship with Us as the new Honcho?”

Enough chitchat
.  “You may have heard about this new school for wizards that Xander is finally starting in Denver.  I've been wondering about the Church's position on it.”

Enrique lifted an eyebrow.  “Our position?”

“Yes.  I'm told they will accept anyone with the potential to work with magic, no matter where they come from.  When my people hear of it, there'll be some Texans who want to attend.  Will the Church be tolerant of this?  Or will you try to discourage members of your flock from participating?  We both know how much influence you have, so naturally I'm curious.”

Enrique pursed his lips.  “That is an excellent question, Excellency.  We both know the Gifts are not really demonic, as my predecessors maintained, and yet there is always a great deal of, how shall I put it, ecclesiastical
inertia
when it comes to reversing prior stances of the Church on issues.  We want to move with the times as far as possible, but to change Our opinions of things too quickly can seem capricious and even unstable.”

“I understand that,” said Jeffrey.  “But it does not answer my question, does it?”

The Pope smiled. “A change in policy is forthcoming.  I am just saying it cannot be as immediate or as explicit as We might prefer.“

Jeffrey made a concerted effort not to heave a sigh at this evasion.  “Yes, Holiness, I understand you cannot be seen to flip-flop on matters of Church policy.  But if we could get back to the matter of the school.  Xander is hoping that the presence of humans who can make and maintain tools such as swizzles and everflames (humans which we didn't have when the Fall occurred) will help our civilization progress and improve the quality of life without risking another Fall. Can the Church at least refrain from discouraging any of its members that want to try to become 'wizards' by attending the school?  We both know that they will not be dabbling in actual sorcery or trafficking with demons.”

His Holiness's expression altered, and he looked as if he were about to say something but had managed to stop himself.  “We are certain, Excellency, that there is no need to make any anti-school pronouncements.  Don't worry.  We shall never hinder the quest for knowledge.”

I wonder what he was going to say, before he stopped himself?
  Jeffrey sighed mentally.  Of course he hadn't expected  Ricky to to
endorse
the school.  Refraining from prohibiting it might be the best he could hope for from His Holiness at the moment.

Chapter 23

Rochelle
: more briefing

“Let my servants be few & secret: they shall rule the many & the known.”

– The Book of the Law I:10

She was so bored with these people.  It was too easy to terrify them. Look, now, as another pair of advisors approached, in a sort of crawling grovel.  Sometimes she wished they would rear up and attack.  These days, she only felt alive when making someone else die.

But no, she could not simply slay at whim.  If she did that, they would all be too terrified to approach.  Then she would have no one to bring food and other refreshments.  And of course she would have to seek the others where they hid, to kill them for not coming.

She gestured, and the carpet unrolled down the steps for them.  “Approach me.”

It was hardly worth the effort to dredge up their names from memory.  Arturo, on the left, with his shaved head yet with drooping mustache, was her advisor on the Lone Star Empire.  Dawnflower, on the right, nearly tripping over the hem of her leather robe, more of native American descent than otherwise, was her advisor on the Northern tribes.

“You've heard of the former Honcho's failed invasion of Rado.  What news or advice have you for me?  Arturo?”

The aging advisor stroked his mustache.  “Majesty, your operatives in Texas report that the new Honcho has returned to Dallas with a treaty from Rado.”

This amused her.  “Rado does not seek to follow up on their victory and conquer Texas?”

He shook his head.  “They are proposing, instead, an alliance between the former enemies.  It is all part of the late General's dream of restoring the Union.”

Her shoulder shook with silent laughter.  “That again?  It will never happen.  What do you think are the chances that there will be a coup in Dallas?”

Arturo frowned. “I would have thought it likely, Majesty, with their military prepped for a war that has died in childbirth.  But it appears that young Jeffrey is more persuasive than I would have believed.  Either that, or the chance of trading with Rado, and combining forces against their neighbors, has proved an adequate consolation for the failure of his father's invasion.”

The Queen sipped from a crystal goblet, and then, annoyed by the failure of her enemies to weaken each other, hurled it suddenly at him.  Arturo had anticipated the tantrum, however, and managed to duck in time.  It shattered with a brittle tinkle on the floor beyond the steps behind him.

She reached out to the side and a servant placed a freshly filled goblet in her hand.  “Do you have any advice on how to deal with this...this
alliance
of theirs?”

He appeared to consider her question, but she would have bet gold he had anticipated the question and formulated his reply before entering her throne room.

“It may be, Majesty, that you need not do anything about it.  There is a good chance the alliance will dissolve anyway, under pressure from the Texas military and the TCC.  The officers want victories and spoils, and the Church was looking forward to expanding their control into Rado.”

She turned her attention to Dawnflower.  “What is the news from my cousin in Francisco?”

Dawnflower stood perfectly still, but Rochelle had the feeling the woman was watching her hand that held the fresh goblet.  “Much as expected, Majesty.  Coastal trade continues from the North and South  He put down another attempted rebellion by merchants who resented his confiscatory taxation.”

The Queen leaned forward.  “I already knew of that.  Tell me something new.  What do you hear from the Northern Forests?”  She drained the goblet and toyed with it, to give the woman something to worry about.

Dawnflower swallowed.  “My kinsmen of the Tribes send word that the Duke is still obsessed with finding the Shrine.  His soldiers continue their raids “

“So, again, nothing new.”  Why was it that the only item relieving her boredom was an irritation? 
That fool Xander!  Power exists to be used, not shared.  Power shared is power weakened.

She rested her chin in her palm.  “Do either of you have any suggestions about how to deal with the School setting up in Denver?”

They glanced at each other, each obviously hoping the other would take the risk of answering first.  Arturo cleared his throat.  “Majesty, from what we have heard, this Xander who is founding the Denver School has not even conquered his own country.  If he cannot do that...how could either he or any of his students be a significant worry for you?”

The Queen shook her head at his naiveté.  She looked at the empty goblet in her other hand, then back to Arturo.   “You make me wonder if I need a new advisor.  Do I need to walk you through this?  It appears that I do.  The security of my kingdom rests on two factors: the barrier of the desert, and fear of my powers.  Neither alone is sufficient.

“From what I know of him, Xander is more obsessed with spreading the benefits of the Gifts than he is with the acquisition and use of mere political power.  I have never worried about him.”

“Then what threat could come of his School, Majesty?”

She leaned back.  “Have you heard of army ants, Arturo?”

“No, Majesty.”

“In the jungles south of us, near the equator,” she said, “there are species of ants that travel in vast numbers.  There are often millions of ants traveling in an army twenty meters wide and one hundred meters long. They can consume animals far larger than themselves, overwhelming their prey by sheer numbers.”

She regarded the par of advisors.  “Xander himself is not a serious threat to me or to our security, nor the few acolytes he may gather to himself for his first classes.  But his students could teach others.  If we do not put an end to his ambition of spreading his knowledge, and soon, we could eventually face large numbers of minor wizards.  Even if their individual powers are minor, through sheer numbers they could do great damage and threaten the safety and security of Californ.”

Arturo nodded as if he understood her. 

Chapter 24

Kaleb
: begins with a single step

“Free from desire, you realize the mystery.

Caught in desire, you see only the manifestations.”

– Tao Te Ching, the Book of the Way, by Lao Tse

He watched as the coils of rope were loaded onto the caravan wagon.  Kaleb had always known his country was an exporter of hemp, but never had he been this close to so much cordage produced from it before.  The rope made an excellent trade good, given the fact that it would not spoil in transit the way produce would, and it was too bulky to pilfer.

He had been a little surprised to hear he was being sent East with a trade caravan, but in retrospect it made sense, given that the most used route to Denver from LA curved north through the Kingdom of Deseret, then actually slipped through the southernmost part of the People's Republic of Wyoming before it dipped back down into Rado.  It could have been worse.  At least this way he would be traveling with plenty of supplies and armed guards.  The Queen would be taking no chances that he would get lost along the way or perish in the desert.

While he waited for the caravan to get underway he wondered what Deseret would do with their portion of all this rope.  He knew the Californ fishing fleets used a lot of it.  Perhaps Deseret exchanged it in trades further East.

A hand dropped on his shoulder and made him flinch.  “Boss wants to talk to you.”  Kaleb was annoyed, but the size of the man and twenty years of following orders made him turn and follow.

The Boss's wagon was sixth in a line of twenty-odd and even if Kaleb hadn't known what it was he could have figured out for himself that it belonged to someone important.  The wood was in better shape, the windows were real glass, and even the horses seemed to be sneering at the other animals in the wagon train.  He pulled the door open and ducked his head to enter.

Boss Trent looked as if he should be one of the bandits waiting in ambush for them rather than running this rooster parade.  He was of middling height, swarthy, with a full beard that appeared to have slipped under his vest and conquered his arms.  Even the backs of his hands.  He had the kind of hair that would make a scrub brush envious.  Like he could scour out a coffee pot just by thrusting one hand in and rotating his wrist.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Hah,  Yes.  When I was tole we were takin a dog this time I wuz wonderin if you came with a leash.”

Kaleb couldn't tell if the man was relieved or disappointed  to see him walking on two legs.  “The Queen renamed me for her amusement,” he said.

Trent glanced down at a piece of paper in his hand.  “Sez here yer goin as far as Denver.  That right?”

“Yes,  Do you go a lot further than that?”

“Sometimes.  Why is she sendin you that far away?  I thought she wernt that much into exiling folks.  Least, that's wut I heared.”

“She's not.  I'm to attend a school there.  Do you do a lot of favors for Her Majesty?”

Trent spat expertly out of of the open windows of the wagon.  “I don't work fer
her
,” he said.  “But Cali is one enda my trade route, and I likes to stay alive and in bizness.  You got any useful skills?”

I've been her Librarian for ten years now,” said Kaleb.  “But I don't suppose you have much use for that in your occupation.”  He saw no need to mention that as caretaker of seldom-read books kept mainly to impress important visitors, his duties more often than not involved adjusting the everflame and swizzles used to keep the the air in the Library from getting stuffy and to brew tea for the occasional visitor.  It was a peaceful job and he missed the quiet and the books already.

“Nope.”  Trent spat again.  “Not much need fer books onna road.  But
she
sez take yer, so we're gonna take yer.”

“Do you really think it's a great idea setting out in the middle of Winter?  I don't mind waiting until Spring if you don't.”

Trent snorted at that. “Nice try.  Find yerself a place in the eighth wagon.”

As he trudged down the line of wagons Kaleb thought about his mission.  In all likelihood he was making this journey for nothing.  If the Queen knew of this new school all the way west in Californ, then many others must know.  No doubt Denver would be deluged with candidates.  They would have no need of him, and he would be turned away, only to make the long journey home again.

Part of him hoped that would be the case.  If for some reason they accepted him as a candidate, then he could only see two possible futures forking off from that moment.  Either he would fail in his mission, or succeed.

Which of those would be worse?