“Hello?”
“Rosemary, it’s Joy.”
“You don’t sound like Joy.”
“Long story. Listen…did you call Trevor after we talked?”
Rosemary didn’t answer right away. “It’s damn early for you to be calling,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I’m about to…I’m working, and we’re about to go on a raid. I was thinking about you.”
“You talk like Joy, but you sure don’t sound like her.”
“Rosemary, please.”
“Yes, I called Trevor. He said he’d get a message to you somehow.”
“Thank you,” said Joy. “And thank him for me, please.”
“Are you OK?”
“I will be,” said Joy. “I love you. Tell the kids I love them too.”
“I will.”
Joy disconnected and walked into Philip’s office. Abel Bouchard and Yves Deschamp were facing one of the globes from the library at the McMonigal Arms. It floated, rotating, in the center of Philip Fitzgerald’s office, and the two men stood near it, as if they were both trying to claim responsibility for it.
Joy went to stand next to Philip’s desk, trying not to think about her new body. She was too tall, her balance was wrong, her chest was flat, and the boxers that she had been provided were loose in a distracting way. She was having almost as much trouble with the transformation as she was with what she was about to do.
“This is Earth Positive Seven,” said Abel. “Based on information from Bebe and Lutrineas, as well as information Ken has gleaned from his duels, we are fairly certain that this is the origin of the attacks.”
“How certain?” asked Gray. He kept staring at Joy. They were all staring more than she would have liked.
“Fairly,” said Yves. “Philip was never able to survey Positive Seven. He was still exploring Positive Five when he disappeared.”
“Don’t give me that look,” said Lutrineas. He was sitting cross-legged on top of Philip’s desk, still wearing a Son of Order’s face and gray suit. “He’s fine.”
“Can we focus?” said Simone.
“I’m confident that we’ve got the right place,” said Abel. “More confident than Yves is. We had Bebe send a routine report through last night, to the effect that an attack on Ken had failed, and I spent all night tracing it.”
“What’s going to happen,” said Yves, “is I’m going to place a distortion in Positive Seven and punch you through directly into the distortion. It’ll be like bouncing you through a periscope. If we do it right, you’ll end up on the riverbanks about half a mile from this spot, in that world. We have reason to believe that the campus, or at least this building, also exists in that dimension.”
“Which is why we’re taking the precaution of sending you elsewhere,” said Abel. “They’re probably monitoring the gateway for traffic. They may detect you coming through, but they shouldn’t be able to trace the distortion. You’ll need to act quickly, though; don’t take too long assessing the situation before you act.”
“We won’t,” said Joy. She turned to Lutrineas. “Are you ready?”
“No. Yes. What the hell, I’m just happy to be doing something.” He hopped down from the desk. “Let’s sow some confusion.”
“Joy.” Gray stepped up to her. “What are you smiling about?”
“I just realized that we’re the same height now,” she said.
“Ah. OK. Enjoy that. Listen; I still don’t understand why you brought me in on this.”
“Because I need an unimpeachable witness, no matter what happens,” said Joy. “I need you to stay here in case I don’t come back, and I need you to know the entire story for the same reason.”
“This is a lot more complicated than I would prefer,” said Gray.
Joy’s new laugh was deep and disconcerting. “Yeah, I know that feeling. Thanks.”
“I suppose I can’t back out of it now, can I?”
“Not easily.”
“All right. Good luck, Wilkins.”
“Ready?” said Yves.
“Yes.” Joy stood beside Lutrineas.
“Ken, we’re ready,” Simone called to the outer office.
“I can hear you,” said Ken. “Lutrineas?”
“Yes.”
“I want Philip back in one piece.”
“Yes, Kango.”
“Agent Wilkins?”
“Yes?”
“You come back as well. You have a class to teach tonight.”
Joy smiled. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“Good,” said Ken. “Here goes nothing.”
A few seconds later Joy felt her new body streeeetch, and the room around her went bright and featureless. Her stomach sank and her testicles (her testicles? Life got stranger every day) tried to retract—
—and then she was looking across the St. Croix River, its waters still shadowed by the hills on the east bank.
“There it is,” said Lutrineas, pointing west. The sun was just hitting the ugly concrete building at the top of the bluff, identical to the one she had just left.
“Same old squirrel trap,” she said. “The only problem is, we’re on the wrong side of the river.”
Episode 12
CHAPTER 13
* * *
ANOMALIES
The match that had ended Ken Song’s professional dueling career had terminated in an attack to his appendix—or rather, the phantom of his appendix, since it had been removed when he was a teenager. His opponent, a relative newcomer, was not the first to go after that memory; old injuries were vulnerabilities, and few were secret. But the kid was the first to really hurt him there. Whether Ken was overconfident, too slow, or the kid was just that good, she had slipped through his defenses, found that old hurt, and brought it flooding back.
He’d lost the duel, of course, but it was more than that. His nervous system had been overwhelmed, and he’d gone into seizures. Before they’d stopped, he’d injured his back. He spent months in rehabilitation, but he’d decided when he first woke up that he was done with dueling. He was tired, and he was bored, and he didn’t like to lose. So he quit. That was how he put it, too, at the sparsely attended press conference he held. “I’m not retiring,” he said. “I didn’t make enough money in thirteen years of dueling to retire on. I’m quitting. I’m going to get a job, and a dog, and I’m never going to wear a cape or one of those stupid hats ever again.”
He hadn’t exactly said that he would never duel again, but he’d assumed that would be the case, until he’d ended up at Gooseberry Bluff and Hilda Ruiz had told him that he had been hired in part for his dueling ability. When she’d told him that she hoped that he would take on the role of the town’s defender—and by extension, defender of an entire dimension—he’d felt a sharp pain where his appendix had been. But he hadn’t said no. He’d gone through the rituals that bound him to the land and the river and to the gateway between the dimensions. He’d sat through hundreds of meetings of the secret society of academics who never seemed to agree on how best to protect the world from order. He’d adopted Victor and met Philip and grown old. But he hadn’t fought another duel until a few months ago, and he was tired of it again. He wanted to quit.
He even had a replacement in mind.
He held to that thought as he maintained his attack. He hadn’t slept much the night before, and he was still suffering the ill effects of the hangover he’d inflicted on himself the day before that, but the thought of potential relief made him feel strong. If Wilkins’s plan worked, he’d get a respite from the attacks. Maybe a long enough respite to train someone to take up the mantle. At least enough time to take a long weekend and do nothing but lie in bed—preferably with Philip.
“Tell me about the Barrow,” he had said to Lutrineas sometime before dawn, while they were waiting for Joy and her FBMA partner to arrive.
“It’s safe,” Lutrineas had said. “It’s the only place that is, really. It’s on a world where humans and gods died out tho
usands of years ago, if they were ever there at all. It’s a world of trees and megafauna. Clean air and clean water, and the fish are so plentiful they just leap into your arms.”
“But you live in a hole?”
“You live in a mass of brick and concrete and steel that sits upon the earth. Think about how much more work that is than just digging a hole. Holes are warm and cozy.”
“And dirty.”
“Not if you clean them.”
“Why is it the ‘Barrow’? Shouldn’t it be the Burrow?”
“Rabbit has a morbid sense of humor,” said Lutrineas. “It’s a cozy place. Trust me.”
“You abducted my man,” said Ken. “I don’t trust you at all.”
“A simple hostage exchange,” said Lutrineas. “The word ‘hostage’ has such ugly connotations these days. It used to mean a kind of adoption, really.”
“Philip is a grown man. He doesn’t need parents.”
“You realize that sentence is the very root of atheism,” said Lutrineas. “I find that offensive.”
“Just bring him back,” said Ken.
“If this works, I may bring them all back here. But that depends on you, doesn’t it?”
“You’re doing great, Ken,” said Abel Bouchard from somewhere on the periphery of Ken’s senses. Ken was glad to hear it, since he’d been allowing his thoughts to wander. Abel was piggybacking on Ken’s attacks, working to locate Ken’s opponent on Earth Positive Seven. Assuming that he was able to do so—that the opponent was somewhere in or near Gooseberry Bluff, and that they could contact Wilkins there—the plan had a small chance of working.
Ken held Victor in his lap. He petted the old dog as he sent shocks bolting through his opponent’s fingers and teeth. There was a history of dental work there, a vulnerability that Ken planned to take full advantage of. The opponent was in a dark room, trying to fight back from a prone position, but Ken had no intention of letting up. He might even be able to finish this without Wilkins’s help.
A door slammed, and Ken opened his eyes to see Edith Grim-Parker glaring at him. The connection fell away as she advanced. She spoke slowly and quietly, but with suppressed violence.
“What in the hell are you doing in my office?”
“This is a problem,” said Joy.
She glanced up and down the river, looking for a boat or a bridge, but there was nothing. She had noticed piers on the Wisconsin side of the river in her own world, but she wasn’t seeing any of them here.
“I don’t suppose you could fly me across,” she said to Lutrineas.
“Hardly,” he said. “I could certainly take a look at things from above, though.” He folded into himself, shrinking into the tall grass. Wings unfolded from the dark shape—a black bird too large to be a crow—before it launched itself into the air.
Joy stood rooted in place, the cuffs of her suit pants dampening with dew. She reached under her tie, unbuttoned a couple of buttons, and grasped the crystal that rested against her flat, masculine chest. “Abel Bouchard,” she said, with her eyes still on the raven.
Discordant tones vibrated through the crystal, and Abel’s voice came through in layers of feedback. “Joy? How did it go?”
“We’re on the wrong side of the river,” said Joy. “Lutrineas is looking for a way across.”
“Damn,” said Abel. “There was an anomaly at the last second; something small, but it must have been enough to shift the nose of the portal. We meant to put you on the near bank.”
“I know,” she said. “Have you fixed the location of Ken’s opponent?”
“Working on it.” Abel’s voice was momentarily drowned out by a blare of harmonics: “—when you’re across.”
“I’ll call back,” said Joy, and disconnected. Crystals were normally so clear; she supposed it was understandable that the signal might degrade across seven dimensions, but it was still disconcerting.
“Do you mind explaining the reason for the new look?” Piper asked, startling Joy. She was standing in the shallows, carrying her shoes. She was still wearing the ensemble she had worn the night before at Ingrid Ingwiersen’s house, so Joy supposed she had been up all night as well.
“Jesus,” said Joy. “Well. I guess that explains the anomaly. How do you do that?”
“I’m your security detail. Staying close to you is my job.”
“Yes, but…you know what, I give up. You’re a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a hoodie.”
The huge black bird dropped down between them, folded into itself, and unfolded to become a twin to Joy’s current body.
“Who is this little person?” Lutrineas asked.
“Explain this guy, while you’re at it,” said Piper. “Explain anything. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to tell Flood the next time I see him.”
Joy had some thoughts about that. In fact, having Piper along was probably a good thing. Strength in numbers…or something like that.
Piper stepped out of the water and slipped her shoes on. “Look, just give me a summary, so I understand why I’m doing this. Twenty words or less.”
“Your dimension is on the verge of an all-out invasion by the forces of order, and we’re here to prevent that,” said Lutrineas.
“Oh.” Piper stood considering that for a moment. “Order are the bad guys?”
“It seems so,” said Joy.
Piper frowned. “This seems like a good time to get it on the record that I’m just the bodyguard, and unless Flood explicitly orders otherwise, I’m only here to keep you from getting killed.”
“Orders, again,” said Lutrineas. “I really am scraping the bottom of the barrel for allies.”
“Piper took out six Sons of Order yesterday,” said Joy. “By herself. Unarmed.”
“It’s an honor to have you aboard.” Lutrineas’s wardrobe shifted into a red-and-black formal suit of a style unfamiliar to Joy—something from his own world, perhaps. He took Piper’s hand, bowed, and kissed her fingers.
Piper rolled her eyes. “He’s subtle. Where did you dig him up?”
Joy wondered if explaining Lutrineas would prompt Piper to explain herself, but there wasn’t time enough for either. “What did you see?” Joy asked Lutrineas.
“There is a road about half a mile inland, beyond the ridge, and a bridge about three miles south,” he said. “It’s interesting. This area doesn’t seem to be as developed here as it is on your world. But around the school, over there, there is some sort of a base.”
“Great.” Bases meant security, and Joy wasn’t looking forward to navigating it. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of catching a bus out here.”
“I expect that we can arrange some sort of transport,” said Lutrineas. “But you and your underdressed friend will need to make your way up to the road first.”
Joy tromped up the banks through the tall grass, trying not to think about the odd sensations of walking in this body. She was dangling in all the wrong places; it was distracting.
“This suit is going to be ruined,” she said.
“For God’s sake, don’t get it dirty,” said Lutrineas. “That’ll be a dead giveaway.”
“Does your sister have a cleanliness fetish?”
When no answer came, Joy turned. Lutrineas—she had no trouble recognizing him as such, despite the fact that he had retaken the face of an assassin—was frowning.
“Should I not have asked about your sister?”
“I was just…remembering. This isn’t my world, you know.” He shook his head. “I ran from there a long time ago, and when I left I was so afraid that I lost track of how many worlds I stumbled through before I found the Barrow.”
Joy tried to picture Lutrineas’s clear yellow aura shot through with spikes of dark-blue fear. “What scares a god?” she asked.
“Oh, the usual things.” His tone was sarcastic. “Having your home destroyed. Seeking refuge with family members, only to see them murdered. That would frighten anyone, wouldn’t it? But suppose your fa
mily members were all gods. Suppose they were immortal, and they were murdered anyway, simply for being in the way. Order doesn’t have any room for war or wine or mischief or love. Everything goes in its place, and all the randomness is crowded out.”
“All the gods from your world are dead?”
“All but myself and my sister,” he said.
“What about the gods in my world?”
“Gone, I think. I checked the usual places. They saw order coming and left for other worlds, I suppose.”
Piper coughed.
“You’re not a god,” Lutrineas said.
“I never said I was.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“I never said I did.”
“I don’t like you,” said Lutrineas. “I prefer to be the most mysterious being in any given situation. What are you, a pixie?”
“Can a pixie kick your ass? If so, then maybe I’m a pixie.”
Joy decided to change the subject. She cleared her throat. “I guess what I was asking was—is there…is there a big god? A capital G?”
“Oh,” said Lutrineas. “That one. Well, even gods tell stories. But if that one exists, no one has seen him or her in a very long time.”
“I see.” Lutrineas would be a hell of a guest lecturer for her class, Joy thought. She’d take a class from him herself.
When Joy had been teaching—not as a cover, but for a living—she had never completely segued out of her student mindset. Maybe that was just the nature of academia; you started as an undergrad, moved into grad school, and worked as a TA, gradually picking up a course here and there until you couldn’t tell where your studies ended and your grading began. She would hardly have noticed that she’d gotten her PhD if not for the job search that followed, a search that felt very much like graduate school. Every cover letter a course proposal, every interview an oral defense. And then she was teaching, and being evaluated and monitored and graded, and still barely affording a two-bedroom apartment.
Maybe if she’d stayed on as a professor she would have found her identity there. Joining the FBMA, on the other hand, felt like being handed a ready-made identity. Codes of conduct. Dress codes. Vehicle and firearm regulations. The weight of the Beretta pressed against Joy’s chest, reminding her of nights and weekends spent on the firing range, trying to catch up with all her classmates who’d come to the bureau with law enforcement training. She was expected to know what they knew, and they were expected to know what she knew. Joy wondered even now if the only thing that really kept her from fitting neatly into the bureau mold was her face blindness.
Gooseberry Bluff Community College of Magic: The Thirteenth Rib Page 33
