The Last Protector (3 page)

"Yeah, right,” Scrornuck grunted angrily as he turned his back to the Temple. In an uneasy silence they crossed the Square, paid a small bribe to the guard and walked a few more blocks down the broad avenues of the Guest Quarter to find an inn where they could grab a few hours’ sleep.

[Back to Table of Contents]

"Table for three,” Jape said cheerfully, as he and Scrornuck arrived at the rooftop pub to meet Nalia. The headwaiter snapped his fingers, and the gaily attired staff hurried off to prepare a table.

Scrornuck leaned against the stone railing, taking in the view. A few puffy clouds punctuated the blue midsummer sky, and the morning sun lit the Guest Quarter and Temple Square in glorious gold. Beyond the Square, the smaller buildings and twisting streets of the Cast Quarter extended to the great white wall marking the edge of the city, and beyond the wall a yellow road wound across gently rolling plains to the horizon. In the distance, a few dragons rode the morning updrafts.

Only one thing was missing. “Wonder where they put the rides,” he said.

"Rides?"

"Roller coasters, whirl-a-hurl, you know."

"Beats me.” Jape pointed to the line of concrete towers alongside the yellow road. “Some other town, probably. I suspect those towers were supposed to support a monorail."

"We'll have to go looking when we get done. You know how I love roller coasters."

"Don't get your hopes too high. The rides might not have been installed yet—and even if they were, it's not likely they'd still be working."

"I'll make ‘em work,” Scrornuck said confidently.

With a discreet cough, the headwaiter interrupted their conversation. “Your table is ready.” He paused for a second, his eyes darting between Scrornuck's kilt and beard, before adding, “Sirs. This way, please.” As he led the procession to the table, Scrornuck could feel the headwaiter's eyes inspecting him, moving from the knee-high, fringed leather boots to the short, sleeveless jacket with its red-fabric armor and shoulder guards, to the waist-length mop of red hair, always returning to the red-with-brown-splotches kilt.

They arrived at the table, and as Scrornuck and Jape took their seats, the headwaiter's curiosity finally got the best of him. “Sir,” he asked, staring at Scrornuck, “excuse my boldness, but are you wearing a skirt?"

"It's a kilt. Where I come from, all the men wear them."

"I see. If I may ask, what do your women wear?"

"Skirts, of course."

"Of course.” The headwaiter shook his head and walked away, muttering.

Scrornuck and Jape looked at each other for a few seconds, and ear-to-ear grins slowly filled their faces. “Well,” Jape said at last, “at least he didn't ask what's underneath it."

"Yeah, he's still got some manners.” Scrornuck pointed to the fourth chair at their table-for-three—an elaborately decorated throne, topped by the leering image of Spafu the Friendly Dragon. “What do you suppose that's about?"

Jape shrugged. “We saw last night that the corporate mascot is a big deal here.” A moment later the server arrived, and Scrornuck turned his attention to more important matters, ordering a Strong Morning Ale and a glass of red wine.

After ordering a cup of the restaurant's strongest tea, Jape pulled a rolled-up sheet of black material from a pocket of his cape and spread it on the tabletop. “Softscroll, activate,” he whispered, and within a few seconds the featureless surface came alive, displaying windows filled with words and pictures. He looked at one of the windows and sighed contentedly. Scrornuck knew that sigh, and busied himself with the morning newspaper while Jape read the message from his family.

After a few minutes, Jape leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “Things are going well back home. That's a nice way to start the week.” He pushed the scroll aside. “Anything interesting in the paper?"

"Spafu strips. They're pretty old, but they're still funny.” He flipped through the pages. “And this:
Disappearances continue. Six missing persons reported in the last week. Almost fifty people, mostly Squatters and transients, have vanished in the last four months.
What's a Squatter?"

"Some kind of homeless person, I imagine."

"Mayoral Guards report finding no signs of foul play or other clues."

Jape shrugged. “There may not be any clues. Maybe they just wandered away."

"Could be.” Scrornuck turned to the police reports.
"Small disturbance at bar in the Cast Quarter. Gaudily attired stranger launches unprovoked attack on distinguished local citizens—
unprovoked, my ass
—Mayoral Guards dismiss rumors of magical weapons.
Looks like we got noticed."

"Couldn't be helped."

The server arrived with drinks and a basket of rolls. Scrornuck set the paper aside, opened the studded leather sporran that hung from his belt, and pulled out a small book bound in well-worn, deep red leather. In contrast to its plain cover, the pages of the book were a work of art, their Latin and Gaelic text surrounded by elaborate illumination. He read a few passages in a voice just above a whisper, then reverently broke a roll in half, bit off a fair-sized chunk, and washed it down with the wine. A few more whispered passages completed the ritual. “Wish I could find a real church,” he said.

"You could try that temple we saw last night,” Jape suggested.

"Yeah, right.” Scrornuck watched Jape's fingers dance over the softscroll, making displays appear and disappear. “Find anything interesting?"

Jape shook his head. “Catalog says next to nothing about the Grand Taupeaquaah Project. To think that UniFlag spent a hundred and forty billion Eunos on this place..."

"A lot?” Scrornuck had little knowledge of billions and even less of what a Euno was worth.

"Hell of a lot—and no records of where it went?” Jape scanned the scroll further. “Now this is interesting: seems UniFlag got into big trouble over something called ‘technolepathy.’ The records don't say what it was; they just talk about fines and lawsuits.” He tapped a few more buttons. “What's this? It turns up in Abe Matthews's final report on STC2108.
Technolepathy device imploded, stream crossing uneventful.
That's all?” He sighed. “Funny thing about Abe: he'd talk your ear off in person, but when it came time to write a report, he never said more than he absolutely had to."

"Just like these UniFlag folks. Maybe they just weren't into paperwork."

"For a project this expensive? No wonder they went out of business!” He tapped a few more buttons. “The documents are in an obsolete format. They could assign a crypto group to crack them, but it would be a Code One job.” He thought for a moment, and then pressed a button labeled
Decline.
“Probably not worth it just to satisfy our curiosity.” He sipped his tea and frowned. “Weak. Oh, well. Let's see if the search agents found anything interesting.
Support systems for the City of Taupeaquaah fully on-line at abandonment."
He glanced around the restaurant. “I think we already know that.” He sighed contentedly. “It's about time we got an assignment with clean beds and decent beer."

"Yeah,” Scrornuck said, “I'm up to here with warlords and giant spiders."

"Really?” Jape said with mock surprise. “I thought you loved a good adventure."

"Caught me.” Scrornuck grinned and took a swig of his beer. “Still, I'd appreciate some women in these adventures."

"Well, here's your chance.” Jape pointed to the restaurant's entrance, where Nalia stood, looking about uncertainly. “She says she likes your butt."

Blushing slightly but also grinning, Scrornuck went to meet Nalia. She wore short brown pants, a sleeveless blue shirt that exposed a good deal of her flat, tanned midriff, and a very light jacket worn as a cape, its sleeves loosely tied around her neck. The outfit covered more than her serving wench uniform had, but he still found the view most pleasant. She'd added a sword to her ensemble, a medium-length, slightly curved blade similar to the ones he'd seen many Taupeaquaahns wearing, and over one shoulder she carried a day-pack big enough to hold a few days’ clothing. “Sorry to be late,” she said. “The Fortnight of Sacrifice begins today, and there's a huge crowd around the Temple."

"They're really going to spend two weeks burning up furniture and shoes?"

"Sure.” The tone of her voice made Scrornuck think he somehow should have known that. “You must be from
really
far away."

"You could say that.” He pointed. “I see you still have
your
shoes."

A slight tinge of guilt crossed her face as she glanced at her feet, clad in sturdy sandals with hiking-boot soles. “I haven't left a sacrifice in nine months.” The guilty look departed quickly. “I can't leave much on what I get paid, and these are the only decent walking shoes I have. The Dragon will have to wait."

Scrornuck leaned back in his chair and watched Jape twirl a breadstick between his fingers as Nalia finished the last of her breakfast. They'd made small talk as they ate, but Scrornuck could see that Jape was itching to discuss business. Fine, he thought, let them. His eyes drooped halfway shut as he settled back to let his meal digest.

"So,” she asked as she put her fork down, “what's your proposition?"

"We're not from around here,” Jape said. “We don't know the area very well. We've heard about an old building to the southwest that may have something we're interested in—"

"Treasure?"

"Let's just say we're very interested in what's there, and we're willing to pay for a guide."

"Well, I don't know how much I can help you. I've never been very far from town."

"That may not matter. Instinct tells me you're the right person to accompany us, and I've learned to trust my instincts. Besides, I believe you have a special talent that will be extremely valuable."

"I have a special talent? What is it?"

Jape's voice was dead serious as he said, “I believe you can read minds."

"Yeah, right.” She sighed. “And just when I thought I'd found a real job."

Snap!
The breadstick crumbled in Jape's fingers. Scrornuck opened his left eye a bit more.

She pushed her chair back from the table, shaking her head in frustration. “Mind reading! Of all the ridiculous...” She dropped her napkin on the table. “Thank you for breakfast,” she said formally, “and good day, sir!"

Jape stared as Nalia walked briskly away. Scrornuck hurried toward the door to intercept her.

"And what do you want?” she demanded.

"To buy you a drink."

"What for?” She raised one eyebrow warily.

"Because I want to. I'm new in town, I enjoyed having a beer with you last night, and I hoped you'd enjoy having one with me.” He smiled his best smile, hoping she'd find it appealing, and gazed at her face. A part of his mind tried to figure out her ancestry. Her brown eyes, high cheekbones, and the subtle red tint in her tan suggested Native American, while her long legs and the hint of a wave in her brown hair pointed at Scandinavia. Another part of his mind said, who cares? He'd already fallen for her—for the way her hair swung as she spoke, for her melodious voice, and most of all for the way she'd stood up to both that gang of thugs in the bar and Jape.

"No tricks?"

"Trust me.” He smiled again. “We're the good guys."

"Everybody says that,” she muttered. “What the hell, a drink is a drink. Let's go."

They sat at the bar, Scrornuck taking a stool with a view of Jape's table. He ordered a Heavy Red Lager, while Nalia opted for a Pale Sunrise White wine. “I notice you're still keeping an eye on your friend,” she said as she sipped.

"That's my job. I'm his Protector."

"What's he need protection from?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe a lot. We'll find out, probably before we want to."

"Maybe he needs protection from his own crazy ideas. Really, that rot about me being able to read minds—” She gazed into his bright green eyes and squinted, her forehead wrinkled with concentration. “I haven't the slightest idea what you're thinking."

"Maybe I wasn't thinking anything."

"Yeah, right. You act as though you believe this nonsense."

He shrugged. “Never read anybody's mind, and nobody's ever read mine.” He smiled again and tapped the top of his head. “Not much there to read, I'm afraid. But I don't have to believe in mind reading to do my job—I just have to keep my sword handy and my eyes open. Jape's offering you a business deal: we're going to visit something that's important to him, he wants you to come along and he's willing to pay. If he's right, and you can read minds, you've discovered a talent you didn't know you had."

"And if he's wrong?"

"You come home with a pocket full of money."

"How much money?"

"Whatever you ask."

"I could ask a lot."

He lifted the pint that he'd purchased for two of the smallest copper coins. “Judging by the price of beer, I'd ask for three gold pieces a day."

"Three gold pieces?” Her jaw practically bounced off the bar. “I don't make that much in..."

"Three gold pieces a day, plus expenses,” he repeated firmly. “At the very least."

"Three gold pieces a day.” She looked at Scrornuck, looked across the pub at Jape, listened to the silver pieces rattling in her purse, and quickly downed the remainder of her wine. “I think I can pretend to believe him."

"So, what do you want me to do?” Nalia asked as she returned to her seat. Scrornuck, hearing the negotiations resume, settled back to continue his after-breakfast nap.

"For now, be our local guide on a three-day trip.” Jape pointed to the softscroll, which displayed a map showing little more than the city and the forest. “I'm told there's an abandoned building called the Executive Palace down this way. Heard of it?"

"Nope. But you hardly need a guide if you know where you're going."

"There's something else, something with a talent similar to yours. My intuition says it's important to bring you and that something together."

She shook her head as if trying to clear it out. “Do you have any idea what this ‘something’ is?"