by R N Skye
Ari stood and shook Shew’s hand. “Just one question…”
“Yes?” Shew raised an eyebrow.
“Will working for you be like today, all the time?”
“Absolutely,” replied Shew with a chuckle, “that and much, much, more.”
“Then I accept,” Ari said in earnest. Oddly the motivation wasn’t so much the excitement of the last several days, but the thought of not having to be stuck at a desk, ever again.
“Excellent,” Shew responded. “We leave first thing in the morning. You are to tell no one you are leaving. And you are to tell no one of any of the conversation we have had in this room this evening. Is that understood?”
“Yes Sir,” answered Ari as the secretive nature of his future began to sink in.
“The commandant has been instructed that you are being transferred to IDAD in Jehhet, to assist in the back log of their magetech research. Pack your uniforms and travel gear only. I notice that you have accumulated several artifacts that you use for your “hobby” I believe you said; you may want pack and seal them. We can arrange to have them shipped as dangerous items to only be opened by our people with then next artifact shipment and retrieved later. The rest the commandant will have shipped to your new quarters in the capitol. We’ve got a long way to go and a short time to get there. We’ll leave right after breakfast.” With that the mysterious attaché exited the billet.
Early that morning Ari entered the mess hall but saw no sign of Shew. He hurriedly ate breakfast then went back outside to see if he could locate his new boss. As he stepped outside and into the grey of the early morning, there was Shew mounted and waiting. Shew held up the reigns of the horse next to him, indicating that it was time to get moving. Ari secured his saddlebags and gear to the waiting animal and mounted. Without a word Shew turned his horse and headed from the camp; Ari following close behind.
Ari and Shew rode in silence. After two hours Shew finally spoke up. “Ari is no longer. You are now known as Stafford. No first name no last name, just Stafford. Your rank is whatever the mission requires. After you complete your training you will be the same as me. You will answer to no one but the king and that will include me.
Inside a taxi coach on a rainy afternoon the man called Stafford had mixed feelings regarding the events from that day so long ago. Had he actually done any good; all of the deeds and the time spent in between.
Soon the man called Stafford would be no more.
III
Shane awoke fully clothed. His face felt hot. Putting his hand to his cheek he opened his eyes blinking them quickly closed again as he realized that the sun was shining onto his face from the open draped window. Looking at the clock on his desk he saw that it was just after lunchtime. Although he felt completely rested and refreshed the growling of his stomach reminded him that he had missed breakfast. His dream suddenly came rushing back to him. His mind suddenly filled with the image of the golden pyramid covered in glyphs. As he tried to visualize the glyphs they kept fading; failing to keep in focus. Like quiet thunder from a distant storm he heard a voice rumble through the back of his mind saying the words, “Create the Instructor While your mind is still touched by the Arc.”
“Wow!” Shane said out loud and he practically dove under his mattress to grab his notes.
Sitting at his desk Shane began to review the glyphs that he had copied from the artifact from the lab the night before. As he pondered the different connections they seemed more logical somehow. Realizing that he had no idea on what types of materials the original artifact had been made of he grew concerned that he may not be able to duplicate the device. Instantly a picture of a square metal plate that looked like polished brass filled his mind and he saw himself inscribing the glyphs on the lower half with the activation control and the intensity line at the top with a blank space beneath.
Shane jumped at a knock on his door. He quickly stuffed his papers into his desk and shut the drawer. The knock came again this time followed by a familiar voice that made him smile.
“Shane, are you in there?” queried Ava’s Luionese accented voice. Someday Shane would have to tell her how attractive he found that accent.
“Coming,” Shane said as be bounded across the room.
“Ava!” he exclaimed. “You’re never going to guess what I discovered…” He paused as he saw that not only was she not alone but her expression held more than a little ire.
“Shane Chason!”
Uh Oh, thought Shane. It’s never good when a woman addresses you by your full name.
“We were supposed to meet for lunch. This is my aunt Leslie,” she inclined her head briefly to the tall middle-aged brunette standing with her,” We waited for over an hour. I was worried sick.
“I’m so, sorry,” apologized Shane. “I was up all night in the lab and then had practice at first light… I came home got cleaned up and just crashed. I didn’t intend to oversleep; just catch a quick nap.” Shane stuck out his hand. “It is an honor to meet someone from Ava’s family Mademoiselle, “Shane added with a smile in hopes of changing the subject away from his missing their lunch appointment.
“Shane, Shane Chason,” he properly introduced himself bowing his head slightly.
“Leslie, Leslie Coeur.” The woman nodded. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well Shane. It is not often that my niece shares her friends with her family especially handsome friends. And please call me Leslie.” The dark haired woman didn’t seem the least bit upset that he had missed lunch. In fact she appeared slightly amused.
Shane leaned in and gave Ava a quick hug followed by a peck on the cheek. “Ladies he said with a smile, it is not very good manners for me to keep you waiting at my door and it is even less appropriate for me to invite you into a man’s dorm. Did you eat at all or just spend the time waiting?”
“Waiting,” pouted Ava.
“Now, Now, “chided Leslie, “we spent most of the time just chatting – mostly about a handsome warball player if I recall”
“Aunt Leslie!” Ava burst out in embarrassment.
“A warball athlete, eh?” said Shane smiling. “I’m jealous. Anyone I know?” They all laughed. “Since you haven’t eaten yet and I don’t have a class for a couple of hours and I missed breakfast. What do you say to a late lunch?
“Absolutely,” the women said.
Shane ushered them out the door and they were soon strolling along a promenade toward one of the nicer campus restaurants.
As the approached lavish restaurant with a large garden and patio Leslie spoke and said, “this looks like a nice place for lunch, how about here?”
“I hope you like good food; I hear this is one of the best on campus. I’ve never eaten here before.” Shane spoke as he held the door open for the two ladies and followed them into the restaurant.
Somewhat concerned as to if he could afford the prices, even for lunch, Shane began calculating his expenses and if he could take such a financial hit on his scholarship budget. Just as he concluded that he would sacrifice something else to make the meal happen Leslie interrupted his train of thought by saying that since the restaurant was her suggestion it would be her treat and she knew what it was like to be a student and that it wasn’t fair that they pay for her choice in dining.
“Thank you Aunt Leslie,” Ava said. “That is so nice of you. I’m sure that Shane would be happy to treat.”
“I insist,” said Leslie emphatically.
Feeling like he had just been maneuvered somehow but grateful for the outcome Shane nodded thankfully and said “Thank you that is most kind of you.”
“So,” Said Leslie. Ava tells me you are quite the brilliant magetech and from what I’ve heard in the news regarding the local collegium standings you are also a very gifted athlete.”
“If I am any good at magetech it is because I have a superb lab partner that forces me to improve just to keep up. The sports… well it’s just something I’ve done since I was a kid. It’s a lot of fun,” Shane replie
d not liking to talk about himself.
“Don’t let his false modesty fool you Aunt Leslie… he is a starting receiver,” Ava interjected. “His lab partner is pretty good though,” Ava added with a laugh as she nudged him playfully.
“You two are quite the pair,” Leslie eyed them wistfully as if she recalled what it was like when she had been that age. “I must admit that most of my family are quite the enthusiasts of warball but I am a bit in the dark as to the rules and how it is played,” Leslie admitted. “Would you mind explaining exactly what it is you do on the team?”
Before he could answer the maître d’ approached and asked if they would like to be seated. They nodded in the affirmative and were soon led to a quiet table. Shane held a chair for Ava’s aunt and then held a chair for her on the opposite side of the table and took the seat beside her. While waiting for the waiter Shane reset the conversation regarding the general rules of warball.
“Warball, “Shane explained with a sigh as he tried to think of a way to make things as simple as possible, “is a contact sport; an extremely rough contact sport. It has been around for ages. It is said that the ancient Luion had been taught the sport by the Elios, but it’s highly contested by the academic community as false due to the peaceful nature of the Elios. Historians suspect that it had evolved from a game known as roundball; the common joke among historians is that the only thing that roundball had in common with warball was that they both used a ball.
“What does each player do?” Leslie had asked. “I never was very sure. My father has tried to explain but he wasn’t very patient and would tangent off into all sorts of boring explanations.”
“Well, “continued Shane, “In the game of warball each team has nine players consisting of six players whose primary goal is to disrupt the other teams play any way they can; they are called warriors, and battlers, depending on who is in possession of the ball at the time, then there are two receivers who’s primary purpose is to score and lastly the handler whose job it is to, carry the ball, throw it to one of his receivers, or score himself. I play a receiver.”
The discussion was momentarily but gratefully interrupted by a pert young waitress who quickly took their drink orders. The women asked for only water and Shane asked for pomme juice. The waitress departed and Shane continued the explanation.
“The playing area is a large circular field that contains three rings. The inner ring is a small circle called the eye, it is ten paces across in the center of the field; the eye is where the ball is brought into play. The only players allowed into the eye are the handlers. The head official tosses the ball straight up into the air and the handlers can either jump and catch the ball and run with it or they can tip or pass it outside of the eye to one of the other players. Bringing the ball into play is also referred to as the toss.
The next circle is called the field line and is thirty paces beyond the surrounding circle of the eye. The space between the eye and the second circle is referred to as the field. The field is where most of the action takes place. Battlers, warriors, handlers and receivers all play in the field.
The waitress returned with the drinks and took the trios order. “The spring salad with balsamic vinaigrette on the side,” ordered Leslie.
“The same for me please.” echoed Ava.
“Poulet salad sandwich – not toasted, with chips,” said Shane as he handed his menu to the waitress.
As the waitress left to place their orders Shane continued to describe the game of warball.
“The final and outer circle of the field is fifteen paces further beyond the circle marking the edge of the field; this area is referred to as the zone. The zone is where the scoring takes place. Evenly distributed around the outer circumference of the zone, like the hours on a clock, are twelve three pace in diameter vertical hoops called the goals. Each goal is numbered and worth variable points. Goals three, six, nine, and twelve are worth five points. The rest of the goals are worth two points – unless it is a penalty kick then it is worth three points unless it’s a five point goal then the penalty kick is worth five.”
Shane took a sip of his juice then continued. “The object of the game is to score at least once in all twelve goals and this does not have to be done in any particular order. A team can score more than once in any goal thus running up the score. However, once a team has scored in all twelve goals the game is ended. This makes for some very tactical play. If a team has the lead in points it is in their best interest to end the game as soon as possible. If a team is behind in points they will naturally defend as much as possible to prevent a game ending goal.
The game is played usually by the handler running the ball as close as he can towards a goal before being tackled and stripped by a warrior and then passing the ball to one of his receivers to score. If a handler has caught the toss and runs for a score it is mostly due to the team’s having some exceptional battlers and the handler having some very quick feet. Most of the time, the handler will tip or throw the ball to a receiver who will then run in and make the score. It is important to note that the ball can be kicked thrown or placed inside the goal for a score; most often it is thrown. Either way in order to score the player has to first be in the zone.”
Pausing for another drink and a deep breath Shane changed the subject and said, “I think that I’ve said enough about warball,” continuing with a rush he added. ”Here I am in the company of two lovely women and I’m rambling on about sports. What brings you to Jehhet, Leslie,” Shane asked.
“I live here actually,” Leslie took a sip from her water. “I work for the Crown. I’m an assistant to the Director of Commerce at the Department of Trade and Resources. Most often referred to as the ADC”
“She travels so much that I hardly ever get to see her,” offered Ava. “When she sent me a note that she was in the city I invited her to lunch with us so that I could introduce the two of you.”
“Sounds important,” Shane responded. What exactly does the ADC do?”
“Mostly visit the main merchant cities and make sure that policies and procedures are followed and kept current at the local level,” she answered.
“I saw in the news this morning that an Artifact broker was found killed, “said Ava. “Doesn’t your department work with the artifact brokers and distribution companies, Aunt Leslie?”
“Unfortunately yes my dear,” Ava’s aunt answered, “such a sad state of affairs. I’m afraid that the Crown's artifact laws are tempting more and more artifact brokers to acquire new artifacts outside of the law and that some of the more disreputable criminal elements often pose as smugglers and rob or even kill their customers. It is a very dangerous business. Our Department tries to make channels available to reduce this type of activity by creating the most simple procedures as possible to process and license new artifacts but alas there are always those that don’t trust the crown and want to have their own monopolies on the new artifacts.”
“Are all artifacts subject to the Crowns artifact license laws?” asked Shane.
“I’m afraid so, dear,” spoke Leslie matter-of-factly.
“It is my understanding that the laws only apply to newly discovered artifacts,” Shane persisted. “What if someone discovers how to make new artifacts?”
“That’s a good question. I believe at the time when the artifact laws were written the experts were fairly certain that it wasn’t possible. If someone were to figure out how to do it I would suggest they run and hide. Between the Crown and the other three artifact monopolies the person that figures out how to do that will either end of a prisoner or dead. The ability to create new artifacts would be invaluable. The Company that controlled that ability would put the rest out of business.”
Shane gulped and glanced at Ava. Leslie noticed the glance but said nothing.
“So…” Shane changed the subject. “Does your department arrest many? Smugglers, I mean…“ Shane added.
“Oh heavens no, dear,” Leslie smiled. “We only set regul
ations and procedures. All enforcement is done by the Crown Enforcement Agency.
The food arrived and the subject was reduced to only small talk between bites as the ravenous Shane attacked his sandwich.
After eating Shane stood, “Ladies, if you will please forgive my departure but I have a class. Leslie, it was a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for lunch; it was delicious.” Turning to Ava who had also stood he gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “See you this afternoon,” and he hurried off to his afternoon classes.
As Ava and her Aunt watched him depart the older woman spoke as if thinking aloud. ”That young man of yours is brighter than he appears. He’s definitely not your average athlete; all brawn and no brain. Just how good of a magetech is he?”
“He knows more about glyphs and artifact structure than anyone I know, including me. Probably knows more about glyphs than our professor does. He just recently started sharing some of his theories with me when we started dating,” Ava responded.
“Those theories don’t include ways of creating his own artifacts do they?” Leslie asked casually.
“Not that I know of Aunt Leslie, but if anyone can do it, my money is on him.”
“I do hope he is careful. I was serious about what I said at lunch; if someone ever figures out how to use glyphs for their own purposes they could be the most powerful entity on Eliom – and the powers that be won’t be happy about it. Besides that, lately, there are things that the crown is up to that scare me to death,” she said with a shudder. “I do wish your uncle was around. If you hear from him please tell him I’d like to have lunch or dinner.”
