by Taki Drake
Watching in amazement, Madrik tracked their progress as Vincent escorted his two charges toward the press of people moving around.
The Anchor couldn’t tell what was going on, but he could feel that his companion was accepting of their presence. Feeling like a naïve idiot, Madrik realized that his experience with the planet he grew up on had not prepared him for the variety of people and beings that might show up at the BHB. Taking a deep breath, Madrik was about to go back to the celebration when Alastair cleared his throat in warning.
If this keeps up, I’m going to have whiplash! Madrik thought to himself.
The cowled figure approached and was waiting directly in front of Madrik. The voice that came out of the figure was hollow and seemed to be strangely echoed, but very understandable. It said, “Anchor, I am ready to take up my regular duties here now. Is it acceptable for me to do so or would you prefer another enforcer.”
Madrik’s mind stuttered. He didn’t know how to answer because he understood the words separately but didn’t understand them together. Mentally he clutched at his companion, trying to understand what had just been asked of him. All that he got from the BHB was pleasure and acceptance. With so little clue to go on, Madrik responded, “Magistrate, I am pleased that you are here and it is acceptable for you to take up your duties.”
As the magistrate nodded his head and turned to go, Madrik added, “Although, I would really appreciate it if you could explain to me exactly what your duties are at some point and tell me what it is I’m supposed to know or be doing.”
The magistrate had briefly checked his movement before he laughed and continued on. The sound of his voice wafted back toward Madrik, saying, “We can deal with that tomorrow, for now, I need to build the punishment gates.”
<<<>>>
As the evening went on, the snapshots that Madrik could remember became sparser. He was aware that they had expanded the area on the outside, but he could still feel the energy building within the bar itself. Every time he looked around there was some other transformation in the bar. A lighting fixture, more tables, something. There was a feeling of almost drunken energy in the companion bond. It reminded Madrik of the few times in his life that he had been totally and completely inebriated. Reality was just a guideline, not a requirement.
At some point in the evening, he realized that Wynn had assistants. There were multiple waiters now. He didn’t think that he was distracted enough that he confused males and females. Where Wynn had been the lone waitress, there were suddenly people dressed in the same Badger Hole Bar uniform that were definitely and decidedly male.
The bar manager part of Madrik was relieved. He had worried about how Wynn was going to be able to deal with all of the different demands for drinks and refills, for services and food. This was an answer to that, but he didn’t remember those people coming in. Where had they come from and what were they doing?
Chapter 27 – Drunk with Life
It seemed like anybody that was involved with the Badger Hole bar had come. Madrik was greeted by all of their merchants and bankers. He thought he saw Emesh dancing a jig with a woman with leaves for hair and moss for a skirt. At one point, he saw the gardener dancing with a mature woman with long hair and the special aura that he had learned meant magic. She radiated power, and Madrik knew that she was not someone he wanted to mess with.
The bar manager caught glimpses of every single vendor that he had made arrangements with and all of the people that had come to talk to him as part of the BHB. He saw the merchant that acted as their agent, and he saw all of the Anchors that had taken up residence in the dimension of the Badger Hole.
Cal and Glaux were over in the corner of one of the garden areas in an impassioned discussion with a being that looked like a “tree ent” out of a Tolkienesque adventure. The waving branches of the ent slid through the surrounding vegetation like a caress on the garden, leaving growth and expansion in its wake.
The Storyteller was in his glory. He had a rapt audience and appreciative applause. The old man’s eyes glowed with happiness, and his posture and energy were a pleasure to behold. For all that he could be irritated with the man, Madrik was also very fond of him. It was nice to see him happy and appreciated. The BHB by itself was not enough audience for him. He needed to play to a bigger crowd, and this provided him one.
Smiling, Madrik moved to a different area. He caught glimpses of Genevieve, the clothier, dripping fabrics over some of the female mercenaries. Wynn was there taking copious notes and smiling happily. The cheerful laughter, almost giggles that came out of the group both pleased Madrik and made him quickly bypass any interaction with them. He knew when he was outgunned, and this was definitely one of those situations.
Vincent was busy, interacting with people and awarding prizes. He had become the de facto awards chairman. One of the things that Madrik captured in crystal clear remembrance was when he presented an older man with a case that contained a quill. The man had opened it and started to sob. Vincent’s explanation had been simple. This was the quill that had been used to write the Iliad or at least the opening parts.
The exclamations of appreciative knowledge filled the area and set the group around the sobbing man in a different perspective for Madrik. The people here had found groups that they could relate to. It was something special, but Madrik was really torn on whether the event was a success or not. He thought it was, but there were so many people in so many different groups how could you tell?
Fleeing into the bar itself, Madrik had taken an unused barstool and seated himself in exhaustion. Without a request, Brechal had slid over a glass that was loaded with a drink that Madrik recognized. It was the one that they had used to soften the impact of coming into the Badger Hole Bar initially. Called the “Culture Shock,” the drink was a multilayered extravaganza of smoking, whirling colors. The mixture of alcohol from different planets and universes were harmonized into something that both calmed and energized. Gratefully, Madrik drank the whole thing.
Its effect on his system was like an atom bomb. Blowing up his feeling of alienation and discordance and filling it instead with calm acceptance. Madrik relaxed.
Looking around the room, he saw all of the people interacting. What more could a bar manager ask for, but drinkers in his bar that got along.
Just then there was a tone that Madrik heard in his head and felt in his body. All over the bar conversation stopped and the silence fell. The semi-hidden alcove that marked the Remembrance Wall lit to a brighter light and the taproom occupants straightened in surprise or alarm at what to many of them appeared to be the sudden emergence of another room.
Madrik found himself on his feet with an unknown drink in his hand. Holding that drink up toward the alcove, he said in a clear voice, “To remembrance. May they live in our minds and in our hearts. To those that we cared for that are no longer with us but not yet gone. To memories that we hold forever dear.”
All around him, he could hear the intake of breath, some of them sobbing, some of them in respect.
The coolness of the glass at his lips as he went to drink cleared his mind. The alcohol that slid down his throat had a minty taste with a kick that could have come from an augmented mead. His eyes burned, and his ears rang, making him feel like a bell that had been rung by a celestial hand.
He remembered. And in that memory, the grief and joy of his previous life came smashing down on him like a tidal wave of recollection that both reaffirmed who he was today and from whence he had come.
Vincent came over to Madrik looking a little bit confused.
“Boss, do you have a minute?”
“Yes, what’s up?”
“We’ve had a lot of people ask if they could stay here tonight because they don’t really want to go home and they’re hoping to continue the party tomorrow.”
“Okay, what’s the problem?”
“Well, I thought I had allocated all of the rooms. But one of the people that I had told that rooms were una
vailable apparently went upstairs to check for themselves. They came back down and asked me how come we had 24 places that were not tagged for somebody. This confused me, so I went upstairs to check.
“This morning when I made sure all the rooms were fine, we had eight rooms. Four in each side of the hall. We now have 32 rooms. Did you know about this?”
Madrik just stared at Vincent. He understood the words separately, but he wasn’t sure he understood them altogether. Sounding like a schizophrenic parent, Madrik repeated what he thought he had heard, “I know we had eight rooms this morning. What you’re telling me now is that we have 32 rooms, right?”
“Yep.”
Without responding to Vincent, Madrik queried his companion. Asking what was going on, all that Madrik got back was a series of snapshots. The clearest one was the image of Madrik and the bar being pumped up by a bicycle pump. Expanding larger and larger, Madrik winced when the picture in his mind blew up resulting in pieces of Madrik and the bar scattered everywhere.
An internal light bulb went on, and Madrik realized that all of the unexpected energy from the attendance at the Grand Opening had to go someplace. The earlier discussion of the Storyteller had told him that there was danger in too much energy within the sentient building. The Storyteller had also left clues as to the evolution of the dimension and its expansion. Understanding that there was only so much speed that they could expand into the new buildings, awakening them as they isolated Anchors, Madrik instantly recognized that the energy had to go someplace, or a disaster would occur.
Taking a deep breath, the bar manager responded to his hospitality manager, saying, “The BHB had to do something with the energy, and he chose to give you more rooms to manage. Can you do that, or should we just mark them closed?”
“Oh! I didn’t realize that is what had happened. I can work with it but could you please let me know if we are going to have more rooms? I had already caused a major fight between two of the bankers on who was going to get the room. This way I can avoid a lot of discomfort and annoyance.”
Madrik mentally crossed his fingers in the hopes that he would be able to keep his promise before saying, “Sure. I’ll try to tell you but just be aware that if it comes to a choice between telling you and blowing the whole dimension up, you won’t know till afterward.”
“That’s fair!”
Chapter 28 – Wine, Partners, and Song
Tal’s group was larger than Madrik had anticipated. It was his own fault for not asking how large the group was. Luckily for Madrik though, it turned out that Tal’s group of 26 bards was just large enough to offer the variety and the mixture of entertainment that such a momentous event required. The entertainment had been amazing.
The bards took turns entertaining in multiple arenas. While the Storyteller held court in the back garden, the bards entertained inside the bar room itself and on the street outside. Alternating between contemplative songs and emphatic dance music, the bards kept the drinkers active and interested.
Madrik knew that engaged drinkers were ones that drank more, ate more, and were less pugnacious. He could see that in the way that the night flowed.
There were very few fights and even disagreements. Arguments, yes, but very few fisticuffs.
The physical contests took the edge off of the mercenaries, and the stupider ones quickly became snoring drunks on the floor. With the Dirty Bucket Brewery people willing to haul off the unconscious ones to rest on one of their building floors, the bar and Madrik didn’t have to worry about so much.
The entertainment was a major differentiator. Tal’s group provided times where bards sang with the harp or added pipes. They also created interludes when the drums of different musicians would combine into a syncopated rhythm that had people dancing on the floor until they almost dropped.
Single, double, and multiple singer groups provided simple to complex musical tapestries that colored the evening and evoked emotion.
It was not just humans or humanoids that provided the music. Some of the bards were avians like Lila. Warbling in incredible ranges of sounds and tonal strokes that provided paintings of worlds unknown, they transported the listeners to different times and different places.
There were beautiful songs and incredible dance music expanding the group into the street and pushing the chaos walls even further out.
Madrik noticed that the walls of the bar itself were glowing and the chaos patterns were changing. Wandering outside, he saw that large swaths of the chaos fog had cleared revealing pathways and the ruined structures of buildings that they had not been able to see before.
All of the changes were not apparent in the hardscape. In some cases, it was people that provided the clues to the changing environment.
The Storyteller had talked himself hoarse, only stopping when he had no voice left. The gleam in his eye and the energy that crackled around him told Madrik that the man was high on the attention, pumped up with energy and loving what he was doing.
The next time the bar manager had seen the Storyteller, he was in a serious drinking contest with Cal and Glaux. None of them were able to be coherent, but they had decided to challenge each other to some sort of esoteric test that appeared to relate to words and stories. Knowing when he was outclassed, Madrik had fled before they could pull him into it. After all, he needed to remain mobile through the rest of the evening.
Wandering back to the garden that the Storyteller’s abdication had cleared, Madrik noticed that the fountain in front of the library was behaving strangely.
Madrik could hear the sound of the energetic music playing in front the bar even though the building was between the musicians and him. As he watched the fountain, he noticed that the splash of liquid was mimicking the beat and the cadence of the music. Laughing to himself, Madrik realized that even the fountain was dancing.
<<<>>>
It was apparent the people didn’t want to go home. Although they might be too inebriated to keep going, the mercenaries and regulars that had managed to capture their usual tables were almost pugnaciously attached to them.
Madrik and his team were exhausted. He knew that he was going to have to start moving people out because the party had been going on for many hours. When he finally inquired as to the length of time that the Grand Opening had lasted, he was amazed and appalled to find out it had been 30 hours. They’ve been having this party for more than a full day.
It was time to take a break. Walking over to the bar, Madrik planned on talking to Brechal and Alastair. They were both there, and he motioned to them to come talk to him. Huddling over on the door side of the counter Brechal looked at Madrik and said before the manager could say anything, “I know that we need to move people out. But they don’t want to go. What are we going to do about that?”
Alastair was the first to respond, saying, “I don’t know. We keep trying to get people to leave, but they want to stay. Vincent is the perfect person to help us with that, but if you look over there, you’ll see that he is in some sort of heavy-duty discussion with one of the reptilian warriors and Tal, the Bard.
Startled, Madrik turned in the direction that Alastair had indicated. The situation was indeed what had been described, and Madrik just stared dumbly for a while at the spectacle of the huge, hulking reptile with his fearsome jaws so close to the Bard and Vincent. Unable to help himself, Madrik had risen to his feet and moved toward them. Stopping about eight feet away, he was in the perfect position to hear what they were saying. Not wanting to intrude, the bar manager had turned back toward the bar, and Brechal had intuitively moved over as if he and Madrik were in conversation.
Staring into Brechal’s face, Madrik heard Tal’s voice. “Yes, I’ve seen war and all of its horror and beauty. Although it's philosophical reality is more immediate. The smells of bodies as their function is disrupted, the shock of the loss of integrity. It hurts the mind and breaks your expectations when you see something that you’ve always thought of as whole in pieces, unable t
o function.”
The reptilian warrior said, “I didn’t expect to see or hear that insight from a mammal. In my world, warmbloods don’t have much ability to think. Their brains are swept into the heat of their blood, and they never learn to truly understand things. I never imagined mammals who would think beyond fornication and reproduction.”
Vincent laughed, a short, almost painful bark of wry amusement. “I never expected even those of my own species to understand that. In my world, the perception of what survival in warfare does to a person is unknown. Going through battle and extended warfare changes how you see life. It makes it almost impossible for you to rejoin your society. They view you as abhorrent, something to be eradicated or shameful. Acceptance is not there. Your only choice is to pretend and that I couldn’t do.”
Tal’s melodious voice was muted. A wealth of feeling and angst underlaid his tones and built dimension and meaning into everything he said. Speaking slowly, the master Bard said as if he was exploring new ideas. “Warfare has such an ability to horrify us. It rips our assumptions and disables our ability to build. We either accept it as valid or a weakminded refuge for extremists. The nuggets of art, of uniqueness, that form its core message to us, and tell us how important it is to understand are so easily lost.”
There was silence at the table until Vincent asked, “Drexel, is that the way of your world too? Or is your society built around warriors?”
The reptilian soldier barked a strange hissing sharp sound that somehow conveyed both pain and amusement. In a sad tone, he commented, “We are no different. Those of us that go to defend the swarm are never able to fully re-integrate. I think that is part of the reason that before we leave for the first time, they extract our seed. Our progeny may be useful, but we are disruptive. A grown warrior will break our society where our children are fodder.”
Tal exclaimed, “That’s terrible!”
Vincent just drew a deep breath of pain and remained speechless. Drexel made a low-level hissing sound that conveyed both sadness and resignation. “If I would have known then what I know now, I would not have allowed them to create children of mine. But… If I would not have, would the society that raised me still exist?”
