The Last Protector (54 page)

In a very few minutes the vehicle, a sleek ground-effects machine bearing a faded UniFlag logo, reached the castle. It slewed to a stop in a cloud of dust, its rear end facing the hastily repaired gate. Two shots from a mortar on the vehicle's rear reduced the gate to splinters. Then, as if not satisfied, Jape pumped in three more rounds, obliterating a goodly chunk of the wall. He shouted something as he and Nalia crossed the drawbridge, and while Scrornuck couldn't quite hear, he knew what Jape was saying.

"Honey, I'm home!"

For the next fifteen minutes or so, Draggott sat peacefully in his chair, listening to explosions and the occasional scream as Jape and Nalia fought their way up the tower. “It is time to greet our guests,” he said at last, slowly rising from his throne. Accompanied by the Captain and a few guards, he descended the scaffold's rickety steps to the tower's roof.

Jape and Nalia arrived a moment later. He gripped a large, menacing energy pistol. She held her sword, stained with blood, and a bow hung from her belt, along with a quiver that now contained only a few arrows. They stood back to back, glancing up at the Orb and turning about to examine the many dark corners of the tower's roof.

"Welcome, Ranger Phelps!” Draggott wheezed. “We are pleased you have returned. Running away yesterday was so rude.” He made a small gesture, and the guards, led by the Captain, surrounded Jape and Nalia.

"Do you really need a second job, Captain?” Jape said. “Doesn't the Mayor pay you enough?"

"Money is of no consequence,” the Captain spat. “My family has the honor of protecting Taupeaquaah and its sacred order from outsiders like you. Thanks be to Spafu, Lord Draggott arrived in time to warn us about you and your demon."

Jape sighed wearily. “Yet another idealist believes a politician..."

"It is a delight to see that you are such close friends,” Draggott interrupted, “but time is short. Come along, please.” He led Jape and Nalia to the top of the scaffold, took a seat in one chair, and gestured for Jape to take the other. Cautiously, keeping the energy pistol ready, Jape did so.

Wheezing from the exertion of the climb, Draggott turned to take a quick puff from his inhaler. “You are a leader like us,” he said, putting the device away, “and you should be treated as one. Tying people up, forcing them to listen, is for underlings, like this creature of yours.” He gestured in Scrornuck's direction.

"Mister Saughblade...” Jape started to rise.

Draggott stopped him with a gesture. “This—thing—of yours is largely unharmed, and if you do as we say, we will allow it to remain so."

"What do you want?"

"From you? Nothing, for the moment."

Nalia walked slowly to the stake and looked into Scrornuck's inhuman face. “Are you all right?” She half-smiled. “That's a dumb question, isn't it?"

He smiled all the way, and those familiar green eyes sparkled reassuringly. “Just a little thirsty.” His voice was a dry croak.

"I can help with that.” She took a water-skin from her belt and held it to his lips. “Sorry I don't have any beer."

"We'll hit the bar when we're done with Mister Draggott."

She grinned for a moment. “If we can stay awake. We spent the night inside that hollow Stone, because we didn't think it'd be safe to go back into the City. I didn't sleep very well, and Jape was up all night reading messages."

"I noticed the bags under his eyes. Did he say what he's going to do?"

She shook her head. “I don't think he's figured it out yet."

"Don't worry. He's got something up his sleeve. Where'd you get the vehicle?"

"The skimmer? We stole it—when we came out of the castle, one of Draggott's raiding parties was coming back. We waited till they'd left the skimmer, then Jape hot-wired it. A couple Guards tried to stop us, but I took ‘em out.” She patted her bow. “Second in my age-group, you know."

"Cool. I hope I get a chance to drive it."

"You still believe everything's going to work out?"

"Right now belief's about all I've got."

"This is a touching reunion,” Draggott interrupted. “Right out of a fairy tale: Beauty and the Beast, perhaps. But now that everyone is here, we have important business. Miss Nalia, please come here.” After standing on tiptoe to give Scrornuck a polite peck on the cheek, she walked around the Orb—seemingly fighting to keep her distance from its crackling surface—and stood before the warlord.

He gestured toward the churning purple balloon. “By now, I believe you know what this is?"

"We have some idea,” Jape said. “It's a kind of artificial telepathy device."

"Technolepathy, they called it. An amplifier and switcher, allowing many people to share an experience—and allowing us to control our army.” He furrowed his brow in concentration. A moment later, soldiers filed into the courtyard below, from doors in the outer wall, from the base of the central tower, from shadowy places Scrornuck couldn't quite see. The army of black-clad warriors stood at attention, facing the tower. “Nine hundred and forty-seven, each one totally obedient, each connected to our mind through this device!"

"Impressive.” Jape gripped the energy pistol loosely, resting it in his lap as he craned his neck to see the size of Draggott's force. “You're using the master connection capability?"

"You have done your homework. Yes, we are using that capability—and you must therefore know its current limitations. It is not completely stable, and while we have great control over our soldiers, at times they still exercise undesirable initiative. Only a natural mind reader can address these problems. That is why we brought you here, Miss Nalia—you will enter the device and complete the necessary connections. Once you have completed this task and come back out, you are free to go."

"It won't work,” Jape said. “Time stops the second she touches the Orb..."

"Only when she is on its boundary,” Draggott said. “Once the device has brought her fully inside, she will emerge from the trance and be able to perform her task."

"Will that stabilize it?” Leaving the energy pistol lying in his lap, Jape raised his hands toward the Orb and stared in fascination at the flickering jewels of his many rings. “The documents weren't completely clear..."

Draggott gestured, almost imperceptibly, and Scrornuck saw movement around the far side of the Orb. “Jape!” he cried—but he was an instant too late. The Captain leaped from the shadow and knocked the energy pistol to the floor. At the same time two guards pinned Jape's wrists to the arms of his chair. Shoving back the sleeves of his cape, they tore the fireball-shooter and Dragonsneeze weapons from his arms, making a shower of sparks. As Jape struggled, the guards tied his arms securely to the chair. Nalia reached for her sword, but three more guards appeared, their weapons already drawn.

"It appears we have the upper hand,” Draggott said. “Nonetheless, our offer remains generous: enter the device, locate the parts that are bound to us and the parts that are bound to the army, and complete the links between them."

"Don't—” Scrornuck began, but stopped as three sword-points danced about his throat.

"Hold your tongue, beast!” Draggott commanded. “Miss Nalia, you have some affection for this creature. It would be regrettable if its throat were slit, would it not?” She gulped and nodded. “Do what we request, and when you emerge from the Orb, your entire party, including the creature, will be free to go. This is our only offer. Do you accept?"

Nalia turned for a moment to Jape. He gave a very slight nod. “Okay,” she said, “I'll do it.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and held her hands against the Orb. Once more, time stopped for everyone but Scrornuck. He strained at his bonds and howled in frustration as tendrils of purple-white light leaped from the bloated violet ball and formed a swirling cloud around her. The Orb bulged, more lightning leaped from its surface, and Nalia disappeared into the storm of energy. When the Orb retreated, she was gone. The bystanders emerged from their trance, shaking their heads and rubbing their eyes.

"Well, that is complete,” Draggott said. “Now, let us get down to business, Ranger James Peter Phelps."

Jape stared. “How do you know my whole name?"

"We know all about you.” Draggott rose and faced Jape. “We have history together.” He pulled off his mask and lowered his hood. “Do you recognize us?"

Jape stared, and so did Scrornuck. Beneath the mask Draggott was no longer the oily, dark-haired, brown-eyed information broker Tremmlowe—he now sported silvery-gray hair and eyes of blue, one of them nearly as piercing and deep as Jape's. He opened his robe, displaying a triangular pendant with a dark-red jewel at its center. Two of the pendant's corners held smaller jewels, one clear and one a pulsating violet-white, and the third corner held the broken and empty mount for a fourth jewel.

"Abe? Abe Matthews?” Jape's mouth hung open. “I thought you were..."

"Dead? You assumed we died in the stream crossing on 274? We did not, but perhaps we should have.” Slowly, Abe removed his wig to show a head covered with scabs and scars. He pulled his nose off, revealing a mass of scar tissue and a gaping black hole. He tilted his head down, allowing his glass right eye to fall into his hand. Scrornuck felt a moment's pity, recalling how he'd kicked this man down a stairway.

Jape stared. His voice quavered as he asked, “Abe, what happened?"

"You want our report?” Abe slurred the words—his upper lip was a part of the prosthesis. “How like you. Very well, here it is: we survived the crossing, barely. Broken bones, torn muscles, burns. The Traveler was in pieces, so we spent a year in that hell-hole—weeks without food, days without water, storms, volcanoes, earthquakes, plagues. And worst of all, Ranger Phelps, during that year, nobody came to rescue us, nobody came to take us home."

"I came looking for you..."

Anger rose in Abe's voice. “You appeared in the air and went away without landing, or even getting within a mile of the ground. You saw what you wanted to see—Ranger Matthews heroically dead, not crippled and struggling to survive after you abandoned your partner."

"I did the best I could."

"It was insufficient.” Abe waved his hand dismissively. “It took us a year to reassemble the Traveler, and a second year to repair this body as much as was possible. Bones were re-broken and set, scars cleaned up, prosthetics fitted.” He paused to replace the wig and nose. “This was the best that could be done.” A sudden fit of sneezing doubled him over. He dug frantically in his robes for an inhaler and took several quick puffs. “They could do nothing for the allergies beyond steroids and masks, and nothing at all about the food reactions.” He flung a handful of the orange snacks on the floor. “Do you think we like these things? They are, by a cruel twist of fate, nearly the only food we can keep down.” He rubbed his elbow as if throwing the snacks had been painful. “Nothing can be done about the arthritis. We have the joints of a ninety-year-old man. And finally—” He held up the glass eye. “White worms grew in the eyes. The right one came out after they devoured it. The left—” He stared pointedly at Jape, and then at Scrornuck, showing the cloudy blue in his eye. “The doctors killed the worms, but they remain, a cloud in front of all we see."

"I'm sorry, Abe,” Jape said softly.

Abe gazed into the glass eye. “Strange thing about losing most of one's vision—sometimes it allows one to see more clearly. We had never questioned our mission. We followed our orders: wholesale killing, destroying societies that might have been superior to our own..."

"Those worlds would have died in the crossings,” Jape said. “You know that."

Abe slipped the glass eye back into place. “Would they? We have some doubts. It matters not. Thanks to you, our mission is now accomplished."

Jape's face brightened. “She's brought the Orb under control?"

"You should listen more carefully. We said our mission is accomplished—not yours. What do your instruments tell you?"

Jape looked at his ring. The jewel had darkened further since Nalia entered the Orb, and was now far more black than red. “This is bad, very bad."

Abe returned to his chair, a triumphant smirk on his face. “This is the way your world ends, Phelps. The arrogant bastards Back Home created worlds, abandoned and destroyed them, just as you abandoned us and let a world be destroyed. They deserve their punishment, and they deserve to know for what they are being punished.” He gestured, and the Captain loosened the cords securing Jape's right hand. “Where can your Traveler take you?"

Jape's hand was just free enough for him to read the display. “STC 1."

Abe nodded. “By a delightful coincidence, the Darklord Castle attraction stands on the same ground as the Ranger Project Office. The top of this tower is one story short of the Commander's office on the twenty-ninth floor. Hence this structure and the position of your chair—we want you to deliver the message personally."

"What message?” Scrornuck asked, totally baffled.

"Tell your beast, Ranger Phelps."

"It's the end.” Jape's voice was dull, defeated. “When the streams cross, it will create a timequake too severe for my world to survive."

"Your world will go on for a while,” Abe corrected. “It will take ten years for the timequake to arrive. And thanks to that little barrier they erected, your people will be unable to flee to other worlds. You will have time to struggle—unsuccessfully—to save your world.” He grinned at Jape in smug satisfaction. “Of course, they may simply hang you for incompetence."

"You're talking about billions of innocent people!"

"There are no innocents in your world, Phelps. They all carry the guilt of the arrogant, greedy men who played with forces they did not understand, and then ran away when they realized their crime! Only when the timequakes brought punishment did they attempt repentance—and after giving us our orders and sending us on our way, they slammed the door so they could send no further help. They abandoned the Rangers, as their ancestors abandoned the worlds they made—and as you abandoned us."

"What about the people of this world? What have they done to deserve death?"