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

by Matthew Kennedy

  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?

  Chapter 25

  Kareef: Faith and Violence

  “...He will make for him a way out and will provide for him from where he does not expect...”

  – Quran 65:2

  For an Ambassador, Qusay was remarkably conversant with the Book. To converse with him was almost like reading from the Quran, for he loved to quote from it.

  Kareef confessed to him that he was troubled by his Hajj to the school of Denver. “How can I go and study peacefully among unbelievers,” he asked, “when so many verses of the Book command us to kill them? How can I live in peace, when we are told the highest rewards in paradise go to those who fight for Allah?”

  Qusay, to his credit, did not laugh or make a joke of this serious and sincere question. “It is a fair question, especially when addressed to one like me, who is sent to be an ambassador to lands in which most, if not all, are disbelievers in the words of Allah.”

  Kareef had been about to say something but closed his mouth at these words. He had been so busy feeling sorry for himself that he had not even thought of the other man's predicament.

  “There are those who will tell you that the Prophet, blessings be upon him, lived in a violent time, and that he was trying to do the will of Allah against tremendous odds. It is very hard to do the will of Allah if you allow yourself to be slain, and so violent times seem to require violent measures.”

  “They say the time of the Ancients was a Golden Age, with peace and plenty and no violence,” said Kareef. “But those days are ended. Except for such peaceful intervals, has not mankind always lived in violent times?”

  Qusay sighed. “I cannot deny it. Where there is wealth, there will be fear of loss, and the child of poverty is often greed.” He gazed out the window at the trees they were passing. “When the poor see the rich and what they have, there is envy, and usually violent attempts to redistribute the excess.”

  “But the Faithful do not fight out of greed,” Kareef protested. “They are called to do battle for Allah the Victorious.”

  “There are verses both of peace and of battle within the Book,” said Qusay. “One of the tests for those who read the Book is that they must discern what is most applicable in any particular circumstance. Allah rewards bravery, but He also rewards mercy and kindness.”

  Kareef frowned at this. “Isn't that just another way of saying we can always find justification for whatever we decide? Surely there is a stronger argument for one way or the other.”

  Qusay shook his head at this. “There is no course which is true in all storms except faith in Allah. As you grow, your faith will be tested in many different ways, Kareef. Do not always answer with violence. If you are open to the word of God, you will know what is proper in each circumstance.”

  That very day bore witness to his words. While Kareef sat wrapped in his thoughts, wondering why God had sent him on this Hajj to a foreign land, the sounds of their travel ceased. He looked up from a book he had been trying to read, wondering if it was time for a rest stop.

  There was a respectful rap on the wagon door. Qusay reached across his wife to slide back the window on their side. “What is it?”

  “There are men blocking the road ahead.” There was no need for the man to say more. As travelers, they had expected this to happen. No one travels without food, money, and supplies, which all bandits know.

  Qusay exchanged a look with his wife.

  “Stay in the wagon, Beloved,” she begged. “The guards can deal with this. It is their job.”

  He touched the side of her face. “It is their job to guard the caravan,” he agreed. But he turned to Kareef, who saw clearly that the man intended to get out of the wagon. Since Qusay had his wife by the other window, that she might have a better view of the countryside and not be sitting between the two men, Kareef opened the door on his side and climbed out to let the Ambassador emerge. He saw that someone had blocked the road by rolling a wagon across it.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I will do what can be done,” said Qusay. He strode forward to confer with the strangers. Kareef remained by his door, wondering what the Book would say of this 'particular circumstance'.

  “Who the hell are you?” said the man Kareef thought must be their leader.

  “Peace be upon you,” said Qusay. “I am ambassador to the court of Rado from the Emirates. You are blocking our path, sir. Please let us pass.”

  “Well, lah-dee-dah. Looks like it's our lucky day. Whatcha got in the wagons, Ambassador?”

  “Only supplies, books, presents for the Governor, my wife, and a student traveling with us. Please let us pass now.”

  The man looked pained at this. “Come now, you don't expect to travel for free, do you? Make it worth our while to move the barrier, and consider yourself lucky. After all, we could just kill you and take everything.”

  Qusay regarded him. “I'm sure you have bowmen aimed at me. But surely you know that I came with guards. Do you think the two you see are all there are?”

  The bandit chief rolled his eyes. “Everyone likes to bluff that they have more than you see. Changes nothing.”

  “Were I to make a certain slight gesture,” said Qusay, “the guards who saw your men and peeled off into the woods on either side would make their presence known rather dramatically. But there is no need for violence.”

  “Ha!” said the bandit. “I have men in the woods too.”

  They both heard a sudden strangled cry.

  “You have one less, now,” said Qusay. “I am sorry about that, but I suppose my men wanted you to know I'm not bluffing. You, sir, have the power to stop this before it becomes worse. Please clear the road.”

  The bandit's eyes flickered left and right. “I'd prefer not to lose men,” he admitted, “but you must understand that I have a reputation to think of.”

  Qusay sighed. He raised his voice to be heard by all. “Gentlemen! I have called upon Allah to end this. Your leader will fall first. If the rest of you surrender you will not be harmed.”

  The bandit chief laughed. “A good bluff,” he said.

  But soon afterward his eyelids drooped. He swayed for a few moments, then fell to the ground.

  There was another agonized cry from the woods, then silence. After a minute or so the bushes at the side of the woods parted and guards led four bandits, their hands empty and held high, onto the road.

  “If you will be so kind as to remove the barrier,” said Qusay, “we will spare your lives. I am not a sheriff, and it is not my job to clear the roads of bandits.”

  They needed no prodding from the scimitars of the guards to set about the task. While they heaved the damaged wagon of some less fortunate traveler off the road Qusay turned to one of the guards. “What happened?”

  “One of them was going to shoot you after the leader fell. We had to prevent it.”

  Qusay nodded. “I am glad you were able to spare the rest. This is a journey of peace.
I would prefer not to leave a trail of blood and tears all the way to Rado.”

  After Qusay had climbed back into the wagon, followed by Kareef, they resumed their travel. Kareef was looking at the man with a new respect now. “What happened to the chief?”

  Qusay shrugged. “He was struck down by Allah.”

  Kareef grimaced. “Come on. We both know you did something. Doesn't the Book say to always speak the truth?”

  “O you who believe! Keep your duty to Allah and fear Him, and speak (always) the truth.” quoted Qusay. “Since you ask, I twisted shut a couple of arteries shut that supply blood to his head, but only for a little bit. With a little luck, he will recover with no more than a headache from it.”

  Kareef stared at him.

  “Come, now!” said Qusay. “Did you really think the Order would send you on an important mission without protection?”

  Chapter 26

  Jeffrey: quieting madness

  “No one is so brave that he is not disturbed by something unexpected.”

  – Julius Caesar

  The men in the room were not happy. He was not happy either.

  “An alliance with them is madness,” said one, a tall major with many decorations for valor. “We should attack in force.”

  “I have agreed not to,” said Jeffrey. “It might seem contrary to the spirit of alliance.”

  “The Empire does not form alliances. We conquer!”

  Jeffrey just looked at him. “My father might have agreed with you,” he said. “But he is not here. He underestimated Rado's resourcefulness, and paid for that with his life.” He gazed about the office. “Do you really think that you can do with horses and arrows what he failed to accomplish with tanks and explosives?” He paused for a few moments to let that sink in. “This alliance will strengthen Texas and conserve our resources for more important battles.”

  Another officer spoke up. “I have heard that Rado is proposing to try to put together the old Union. Is this true? Are you trying to tell us we are no longer the Lone Star Empire, and only a vassal state of Governor Kristana's new Union?” There were angry murmurings.