Coming to Power

by T J Marquis

  Jon looked at him, slack-jawed, and the big man laughed.

  “So how are you feeling, Jon?”

  “Groggy from sleeping. How long was it anyway?” Jon said. “Other than that I feel… Hey.”

  Jon put a hand to his collarbone. “This broke - I felt it crack. I think I even heard it.”

  “Our small friend seems to have discovered a new talent, Jon,” Dahm said, gesturing at Bahabe.

  “Bahabe,” Jon said, “you?”

  The girl smiled. “Yes me. I wasn’t sure I could, but then I did.” She told him about the experience.

  “Did it hurt? Like when I healed that tree?”

  “Not like that,” she said. “It didn’t exactly tire me out to use the power, it was more like I traded my health for yours.” Jon look at her in alarm, but Bahabe held up one hand to contain him. “It didn’t break me, just kind of spread the pain through my body.”

  “Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Thanks should be sufficient,” Dahm said.

  “Yeah. Thanks,” Jon said, still in awe.

  His friends started catching Jon up on everything else that had happened in the past few days. They were still talking when Commander Naphte came to the tent and hailed them. He had a hand tangled in his curly hair.

  “Oh, Lord Jon, you’re up,” he said, eyes big. “Well that’s a relief for me. We’re uh, being summoned by my superiors,” Naphte said. “They’re not too happy about our little excursion here. They want to meet you. I feel bad, you know. I haven’t even gotten to thank you myself. I’m Naphte, by the way, Commander of the garrison you just saved.”

  “Well they’ll have to wait until…” Bahabe started saying. Jon put a hand on her arm.

  “No, it’s okay. It’s nice to meet you, Commander. I’d rather rest and get my bearings, but there’s no sense causing tension when I can just go along and speak with them. Could I maybe get something to eat though?”

  “Oh, sure,” said Naphte. “I’ll send for a runner. They can bring it over to the Ox and meet us.”

  Dahm fetched Jon’s boots from a corner and handed them over. Jon accepted them gratefully and slipped them on. They made a satisfying clack when he hopped off his cot and onto the floor of the barge.

  Jon followed Naphte out of the tent and immediately caught sight of the Ox.

  It was another hovering barge, but someone had built a structure of concrete and steel on it, some kind of fortified mobile base. They’d even built embrasures along the building’s second story, and cannons peeked out of the shadows within. Either side of the entrance was adorned with the Anekan flag - blue and white, split into quarters, white silhouette of eight towers in the upper left. The large entryway stood open, a delegation of guards and officers waited there. Standing in their midst were seven well-dressed Anekans, most of them elders. The Zansari.

  The Ox had pulled up flush with Naphte’s barge, and a gangplank had been laid between the two. Naphte went first.

  One of the Zansari, a middle-aged man with spikes of white hair and a uniform of Anekan military blue, spoke with Naphte and gestured to Jon and his friends as they came across the gangplank. Naphte pointed to Jon, and the Zansar scanned him.

  “Welcome!” The Zansar boomed. His smile was generous, carving deep creases into his tanned face. He came near and took Jon by both shoulders. “There hasn’t been a mage around here in any of our lifetimes, lad! This is truly a momentous occasion. There is much to do, much to do, but in the midst of it all, know you have our every amenity at your beck and call. I’m sure the good commander here has expressed our depthless gratitude for your heroic actions at Otu.”

  “Yes sir,” Jon said. Couldn’t hurt to be polite - surely the military type wasn’t too different from world to world…

  “Ah, but where are my manners,” the man said, reclaiming his hands to salute Jon. “Zansar Alaphe, General of the Anekan armies.” He turned to introduce his peers. Each one of the Zansars gave Jon a slight bow. He tried to keep up with the names as best he could, but his mind was still muddy from his long hibernation. Surely he’d be forgiven for forgetting a few…

  “But come,” said Alaphe, “Let’s get back to our cool chambers and discuss what needs discussing!”

  Jon and his friends were led to a guarded chamber on the first floor of the base, where a long table had been set with pitchers and glasses of water. The Anekan flag was splayed across the far wall. An elderly man in grey robes was already seated at the head of the table. He watched with bright eyes as everyone took their seats.

  “We knew this day would come,” Zansar Alaphe began, “but we hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. For decades our neighbors in Enkann have been skirmishing with the Nulians on their borders, trading blows or simply suffering the occasional raids. But finally, those cursed greenies and their mutts have grown bold enough to venture north. It may even be that they’ll take a second pass at conquering Centrifuge. Whatever happens, we have to be ready.” The general fixed his eyes on Jon. “Which is why I’ll get straight to the point. We’ve been told what you can do, and we want you on our side.”

  Jon’s understood immediately. Being invited here was not merely an honor or courtesy, and the Zansari had wasted not one moment. This was a diplomatic meeting - he was considered a sovereign power on the continent, and the Anekan rulers wanted to put him to work. They didn’t even seem interested in how he’d gotten his power. He wished there had been time to process all this, for the massive revelation of the extent of his power, and the instant attention it was garnering from the Anekans, was all too much to take.

  Jon took a moment to gather his wits as best he could, and said, “I am honored by your invitation today,” the Zansari all nodded, some smiled. “And I do want to help - I’m sure that’s what my gift is for.”

  He considered briefly how much to tell them. For the first time since landing on this planet, the repetition of his story seemed mundane. He marveled inwardly that such a magical occurrence could lose any of its luster.

  Here’s to being human, he thought.

  “But I have business in Enkann. We haven’t even had a chance to debrief among ourselves,” he indicated his friends and Naphte, “but I understand the Nulians retreated south into the swamplands.” Alaphe confirmed this with a slow nod. “Help me understand why they would be attacking you in the first place.”

  “I’ll take this,” said the older man at the head of the table. His face might once have been chiseled, but now skin hung loosely over his eyes and jowls. He was bald but for tufts of white above his ears. He straightened in his chair.

  “Zansar Osiym,” Alaphe deferred with a tilt of his head.

  “We’ve known for quite some time that the enemy was amassing a sizeable force east of the marshes below the Fold,” said Osiym. Naphte stiffened at this, and the Zansar noticed. “Don’t be offended, Commander. We have a number of teams on classified missions in those mountains, or else we never would have caught the Nulians’ scent.”

  Naphte couldn’t contain his thoughts. “I suggested months ago that we set up forts and watchtowers on the southern borders! We could have stopped them razing Ota!”

  “Commander,” the General scolded.

  “He’s right of course, Zansar Alaphe” said Osiym. “However, the current policy is to shore up defenses back home on the mesa. It was determined that the sum of our resources might just be enough to repel a modest force from Nul. Of course, Ota was a regrettable loss. We would have expected the enemy to attack your fort first.”

  Naphte scoffed, but crossed his arms and shut his mouth.

  “As to Lord Jon’s question,” Osiym continued, “everyone knows our neighbors have been in constant tension with each other since Centrifuge was last sacked, when the power went out.”

  “Sacked?” Jon asked. “What happened?” Osyim’s eyes widened.

  “You don’t know? How far away are you from?” he asked.

  “Pretty far,” Jon smirked. “Look,
just assume I don’t know anything. Tell me whatever you can. Make me understand.”

  Osiym nodded. “Roughly seventy years ago, the Nulians besieged Enkann’s capital, but then, the city’s defenses were whole. The Providence Machines gave the people amenities with no labor, and the spirits of the outer wall protected against any potential threat. The siege was nevertheless a blood bath on both sides. Enakann’s forces proved the victors, just barely, and the Nulian army was more than decimated.” He held up a shaky finger. “However, the Nulians had conspired to infiltrate the city with their special forces, assassinating the King, and the Providence Machines were ruined in the attempt to steal them. Some accounts have Nul getting away with one or two. Moreover, the city’s power source was also sabotaged, and most of Centrifuge’s defenses went silent. That’s when our grandparents’ generation went to settle on the Anescaman plateau.” He gestured in a vaguely northern direction. “There’s something the enemy wants to do in that old city, but to this day we haven’t figured out what.”

  “Why couldn’t things be repaired?” Jon asked.

  “Oh those relics were older than our society itself!” another Zansar answered. She was an middle-aged woman with chin-length silver hair. Sekada, Jon thought.

  “Indeed,” Osiym said. “They just did what they did. Only our scholars have the faintest idea where such things originated.”

  “That’s why you take such care to collect all the artifacts you can find,” Dam said.

  “Yes,” Osiym affirmed. “With the right piece of our ancient history in hand, many battles might be turned.”

  “Okay,” said Jon, “so the Nulians failed the last time, for the most part, and you expect them to try again at some point. Why hit Anek first?”

  “A large scale flanking maneuver,” Naphte piped in. “Especially with the Road out of commission, it makes the most sense.”

  “Correct, commander” said General Alaphe. “Our people have had time to get established out here on the coast. You see, we’ve rediscovered electricity, firearms, motorized transportation. Our policy of centralization has made us a much healthier nation than our neighbors.”

  “You keep saying ‘neighbors’,” said Bahabe. A few of the older women among the Zansari scowled when she spoke, but she didn’t notice. “Why not ‘allies’?”

  Alaphe answered her question but addressed Jon. “There was… tension when our predecessors left Enakann. Many people desired to form up all the men and boys and send a counter-invasion to wipe Nul out forever, but the mass exodus to form Anek crippled any such plan.”

  Osiym took the reins again, saying, “We are, of course, open to negotiations, but old wounds still itch. It has proven difficult to find a means of collaboration.”

  “But if the Nulians are afraid of you now, because of me...” Jon began.

  “They certainly are,” Osiym interjected.

  “Then they’ll consolidate what they have and attack Enkann, if not the capital itself, before you can ally with them.”

  “Most likely,” the Zansar said.

  Jon waited for more, but everyone was silent.

  “Aren’t you going to do something?” he asked at last.

  Some of the Zansari shook their heads, a few averted their eyes. Osiym just held Jon’s gaze.

  “We can’t afford it,” the old man said, spreading his hands as if to indicate helplessness. “What if Nul succeeds this time? There is nothing to hold up the walls of Centrifuge, and no force large enough to defend its sprawling streets. We cannot waste our might there and expect to defend our own people if things go badly.”

  “And you want me to stay here, and wait for that storm so you can weather it.”

  Osiym did not hesitate to say, “Yes.”

  Jon felt ire rise in his chest. His grogginess was beginning to melt away in the face of indignation. He clenched a fist in front of his mouth and cast his eyes up to the ceiling, breathing slowly.

  He spoke low and steady. “I won’t do it. I can’t be a weapon just for you.” Some of the faces of the Zansari grew shadowed at this.

  I barely even grasp these powers, Jon was thinking. How can I dedicate them to these people before I even really know what they’re for?

  So many years he’d been idle, caring only for himself, and now there was a chance to help others escape a dire fate. If Anek wouldn’t chase this problem down, he would.

  “I will take my friends, and we will follow that army, and I will aid Enkann against whatever comes next. You can be a part of this, especially if it’s as dire as you make it sound. There’s already a half battalion here, ready to strike.”

  “First of all,” Osyim said, “Commander Naphte’s decision to chase the enemy down was against protocol, and it was not cleared. We may have been able to overlook that - in the correct circumstances.”

  “If I joined you, you mean,” Jon said.

  Now Osiym scoffed openly, waving a dismissive hand at Jon. “You may have fared well against a battalion or two, and granted, that is unheard of, but they are millions. There are none in the country of Nul who do not learn to fight, or craft implements of death, or cast horrid spells!”

  Jon bore a hole into the table with his gaze.

  “Throw yourself at that army if you like, but I tell you it is folly. Even with Enkann’s pitiful forces, their tired old Wizardess, that country will be burned to the ground when the Nulians strike.”

  The chamber went silent. Jon growled and rose from his seat slowly. Several of the Zansari stiffened, the guards at the door put their hands on their swords.

  “Fine. Stay here and wait,” Jon said. Somebody had to throw down the gauntlet. “We will take the barges and their cargo, and for your sakes call it foreign aid to Enkann.” Osiym’s nostrils flared.

  “Absolutely not,” Alaphe growled. Jon’s hot gaze shifted to the General, who may have shrunk a bit as he saw the light in Jon’s eyes.

  “That wasn’t a request,” Jon said. “It was a concession to you. As grateful as I am to Naphte and his men for mopping up after me,” he nodded to the commander, “I won that battle. The spoils are mine.”

  Osiym laughed, “Yours? Ha! This is our country, stranger, those old relics belong to the Zansari!”

  Jon pounded his fist on the hardwood table, startling everyone. The wood ignited in a wave of orange sparks that quickly died into ash and charcoal. A little puff of smoke rose from around Jon’s clenched fingers. The guards looked at each other, at the Zansari, but didn’t make a move.

  “There is no time for us to waste,” Jon said. “Either you give us the spoils, or I take them. What’s your counter?” Jon knew it was bold. Was he ready to declare war on an entire country? He had no idea whether they would roll over for him.

  All of the Zansari looked to a younger man with slick black hair and a baby face. Tinok, was it?

  Minister of Resources, Jon remembered.

  Tinok’s eyes were wide, and he was sweating at the brow, but apparently this was his deal to make. He seemed to be calculating something mentally.

  “Look,” his tone was surprisingly calm and diplomatic. “Obviously this half-battalion is heading home. I’ve got some transports that’ll be more useful to a small team than those barges. We’ll give you food, power cells for the transports, and water. And, if we can clear the eastern tunnel through the Fold Mountains, we’ll send one barge,” he looked down at the salvage manifest from the lift yard, “and three-hundred of the salvaged rifles, along with this half a battalion of soldiers, to Centrifuge.”

  Alaphe’s twisted expression made his feelings clear, but no one argued with Tinok.

  “Tell him to add in the crates of those blue-steel swords,” Naphte said, “and call it a deal.”

  “What he said,” said Jon.

  The Minister of Resources grimaced, somewhat pained, but he agreed. “We’ll have the treaty drawn up imm…” Jon cut him off with a hand.

  “I’m not interested in your paperwork,” he said. “E
ither keep your word or break it. One way you might see me again, the other, I can promise you will.”

  No one knew how to respond to that.

  Osiym huffed. “Well, if we’re quite done here…”

  Jon shot a pointed look at him. “I know this didn’t go the way you all wanted. It didn’t go the way I wanted either,” he scanned each of the Zansari in turn, “but few things ever do, do they? I haven’t come all this way to fail - you and Enkann will survive whatever Nul has planned. It would be easier if you did it together. Now take us to these transports. We need to get moving.”

  Jon knew this wasn’t the proper way to deal with the leaders of a country, but what could he say for himself? He had enough power to make a difference, even if they wouldn’t join him.

  When the meeting was adjourned, Zansar Tinok escorted Jon, Bahabe and Dahm deeper into the base. Naphte was asked to stay behind.

  Tinok displayed none of the sour mood his colleagues seemed steeped in.

  “I wish I could have seen it, Lord Jon,” Tinok said.

  “Just Jon.”

  Tinok shrugged. “Okay. I like my title though. But I wish I could have seen you out there. I heard it was really spectacular. Always just had a head for numbers though, not so much for fighting.”

  “What will happen to the Commander?” Bahabe said. Tinok frowned.

  “Discharge, most likely. His soldiers will riot though, unless it’s an honorable one, so try not to worry.”

  “You know it’s wrong, don’t you?” Jon asked.

  Tinok lowered his voice. “Yes. Of course, I can see that. But I’m the youngest. The elders - they have their ways, and I wouldn’t look for change any time soon. One thing I can say, their ways built Anek, and we’re doing well.”

  “You might not have been,” Jon said. It was a gentle reminder - he didn’t want to keep taking credit for the victory.

  “True, Jon. Which is why I gave you this deal. They’ll be on my case about it, of course, but now that I’m on the council, there’s nothing they can do. Trust me, you got the better end of the bargain. You were right to be angry with us.”