by Pam Uphoff
"Or someone very strong."
Xen walked on, a bit disturbed. Was a church that was anti-magic worse than the church of a magician who'd been called a god ? A cross street proclaimed itself University Boulevard, and he turned toward the city center. A University should have a library . . . The swale behind the Cathedral . . . he looked around, trying to see the contours of the ground under the buildings. I think I'm in Karista. Well. That's a change from New York or Paris. He hiked on and found the University a few blocks from the location of King's University in his Karista. A bit of a prowl located the main library, and he quickly settled in with a world history text.
The Church of God the Creator was very much anti-magic, and had risen in power from the twenty-ninth century onward, boosted by the partial failure to magically clear off the comet of 2854. The World had suffered over two million fatalities.
Their governmental form was a Democratic Federation, no sign of a nobility. Squabbles between regions were settled in the national assembly or courts, at the seat of government in Sahara. He prowled the stacks for information on the Gods, and found a lurid account of the Comet diversion, with an addendum about how the Gods claimed to have shifted all the large comets enough to prevent all future collisions. Nice. I'll have to ask them how they managed that. Another book talked about the Gods surrendering their magic and fading into the general population. Genetic transformation? But what if another problem came up? Surely they hadn't actually changed themselves.
Off to the reference books. Who's Who listed The Old Wolf, God of War as retired, address withheld for privacy. No reference for Wolfgang Oldham. Same for eleven of the others. The Goddess of Logic had committed suicide a few years after the comet disaster. Both interesting and disturbing.
No entries for Nihility, Rustle Neverdaut, or Xen under any of his names.
"Well, we've answered the main question. Just one government to negotiate with. Now off to Sahara." He blushed to catch the eye of a girl who overheard him, and hustled out. He didn't have any local ID or money, so no way to travel legitimately. He glumly concluded that it would probably be easiest to just bump the gate loose and try to reconnect closer.
"Oh, look at the tall guy. Does he think he's a God?"
Xen glanced over at the heckler. Unfortunately he had friends and they all looked belligerent, and were moving to block his exit.
He eyed them and shook his head. "This wasn't the way I wanted to collect information, but I suppose it will do. Tell me, where should your average dimensional traveler go to talk to a government official?"
"What?"
"Take me to your leader."
"Fuck you!" The heckler raised his fists and closed in, his friends producing a nice variety of rocks and boards.
Xen looked at a spot thirty feet away and traveled there. And took off running. Last thing I need is to get into a public brawl. He dropped to a walk around a corner, and walked in and out of a few buildings to lose any followers. He diverted and took a different path back through the city. The gate had attached to the wall of a house perhaps five miles from the University. A car behind him slowed and started pacing him. He glanced back to see if they were any sort of official vehicle. No markings, but lots of antennae. Well, I am here to talk to the government. He turned around and approached the car. It jerked to a stop and two men got out, belligerence and willingness to draw weapons written all over their stance.
"Excuse me, gentlemen. Is there anything I can do to help you?" Xen kept his hands in plain sight and quite still.
"No, we're just keeping an eye on you while you're in town. We've had enough trouble with you lot already."
"Umm, I just got here, could you tell me who 'you lot' are?"
They both frowned at him.
"He's too young to be Chance," one of them muttered.
"Eternal Youth, do you think?"
Xen sighed. "Ah. I am not one of the thirteen gods. Umm, I don't suppose you could tell me where to find them? War or the Traveler, by preference."
"Well, he's not Virtue or Vice, at least. We know them all too well. Art, maybe?"
"Hello? I'm not any of them. I just got here, from a parallel world. Do you know who I should talk to? I was thinking I needed to get myself over to Sahara, is that right? Northwest Coast of Africa?"
They studied him some more, and he tried to not let his exasperation show through.
One of the men consulted something inside the car. "He's off the scale. He's got to be a God."
"I thought I was pretty tight."
The darker haired man snorted. "That'll fool the Church's magic scanners, but not god detectors."
"God detectors. You have actual detectors for gods? How much trouble have thirteen people caused?"
"A few of you are decent enough. But Vice, Virtue, Love, Chance, Traveler and Just Deserts are walking disasters. Art, Peace and Mercy are rabble rousers. We don't have any use for War, any more and most people prefer medicine, not hocus pocus, and no one needs Fertility. Eternal Youth is supposed to be a real party boy, and Logic was whiz at math and cold as ice. I figure you're either Eternal Youth, or trouble on the hoof."
"Um. Let me repeat. I just came here from another dimension, traveling through a dimensional gate. My World is somewhat similar to this one. It probably diverged from yours in 2854 when we failed altogether at diverting the Comet. Up till then it was probably the same World, same gods and so forth. So tell me. How do I find your government? Or your gods? They might be a useful place to start."
"Just got here, eh? Let's see your papers."
"I have no local identification."
"In that case, I think you'd better come with us."
"All right. Maybe this is progress."
The indigent's cell was not progress. It was large, with sixteen beds. The forty inhabitants made it seem small. It stunk. The other indigents eyed his height warily. His wallet with foreign ID and foreign currency had been viewed with suspicion, and taken away. He relaxed against the bars and tried to open up a bit. Shut down hastily. Too many wide-open disturbed magic users near by. A bored man with slick black hair glared at him. "I don't like gods. We ought to rip you to shreds."
Xen closed his eyes and wondered if they were going to be fed, or if the lights would be turned off so he could sneak some food out of a bubble.
Footsteps echoed on bare cement floor. "Wolfson, Xen!"
He straightened. "That's me."
"Look like you get first stab at the judge."
The judge was old and skinny, and looked impatient. "What is the prisoner charged with?"
"Counterfeiting. He had these in his pocket."
"That's not very much money, and the coins don't look at all like copies of coinage in circulation, nor these bills. The identification . . . Kingdom of the West? Department of Interdimensional Security and Cooperation?" The judge frowned at Xen. "What are these?"
"Money and ID from my home. I just today arrived from a parallel World, and have not yet looked into selling gold or diamonds for local currency."
"You have neither gold nor diamonds on you."
"I don't generally carry them when I'm just taking a first walk around a world."
"And he scans as a god."
The judge leaned back at that. "And have you called the Secret Service? You know everything to do with the gods is their business."
Xen was set in a corner and ordered to remain there while calls were made. He napped until two men in beautiful black suits showed up and pointed what he thought were instruments, not weapons at him.
"He's god level, all right, but he isn't one of them."
"Is it illegal to be a powerful magic user?" Xen asked. "I read up on history in the University library, and it didn't mention anything like that."
"It means that we're going to investigate you up one side and down the other. Come along." Papers were signed, official records of a change in custodial organization.
"The first thing we want from you is your real
name."
"Umm, my World isn't as rigid as most high tech Worlds. In my mother's culture, I'm Xenotime Rustleson. In my father's I suppose I'd be Xenotime Oldham. I have never used that name. My army enlistment and such have all been as Xen Wolfson. My father being Wolfgang Oldham—on my World, not yours." And not a flicker of recognition.
"Army."
"Of the Kingdom of the West. I served for fourteen years, prior to being seconded to the Department of Interdimensional Security."
"Great, a complete looney reading off the scale. We're going to have to call him aren't we?"
"That's above my pay grade. The boss can do it."
Xen's ears perked up. Him sounded important enough to possibly get him somewhere.
At the Federal building, Xen found himself the target of a large number of instruments.
"I've never seen anyone with a genetic reading so high that didn't have any magical potential at all." Dr. Franz Felderman was embroidered on the man's white lab coat.
"That's because I have it all tucked in tight after getting adverse attention strolling past the Cathedral this morning."
"Well, why don't you untuck it and let me get a decent reading, so I can classify you properly."
"I foresee a drawer and specimen number in my future." Xen untucked and wrestled down his barriers.
Dr. Felderman paled at whatever his instruments read and scuttled out of the room. Xen relaxed and let his barriers firm back up.
Less than a minute later his father walked through the door.
No. Not his father. Someone who used to be the same fellow, but with entirely different experiences the last thousand years of a fourteen hundred year lifespan. No laugh lines. He was older, silver haired and bearded, rather than Comet Fall's brown hair with silver streaks and brown beard with a bit heavier silvering. He was intense and nervy. Lacking something. Xen studied him. He's badly off his center.
"So. You are nearly as powerful as a god. Do you think you are a god? Do you think you can walk around creating trouble. That you are above the law?"
"Yes, yes, no, no. How do you do? Pleased to meet you. I'm Xen Wolfson of the Department of Interdimensional Security and Cooperation. I just arrived today, having used a trans-dimensional gate from Embassy. Embassy is an Empty World where all worlds are invited to build an embassy and argue instead of invade. Do you know who I need to talk to about it?"
The God of War frowned down on him. "And insane to-boot. What the hell are we going to do with you?"
Not Fallen will be released in the Fall of 2019
Other Titles by Pam Uphoff
Wine of the Gods Series:
Outcasts and Gods
Exiles and Gods (Three Novellas)
The Black Goats
Explorers
Spy Wars
One Alone
Comet Fall
A Taste of Wine (Seven Tales)
Dark Lady
Growing Up Magic (Four Novellas)
Young Warriors
God of Assassins
Heirs of Crown and Spear
The Fiend
Empire of the One
Warriors of the One
Dancer
Earth Gate
Mages at Large
Triplets
Sea Wolves
Bad Karma
Dark Side of the Moon
Cascades
Olympian
Embassy
Rael
On the Run
God of the Sun
Cannibal World
No Confidence
Pure Poison
Flying
Last Merge
Nowhere Man
Black Point Clan
External Relations
Meet the Family
Children of a Foreign God
Lucky Dave
A Prophetable Dimension
Mall Santa
Saturday Night
The Directorate Series:
Directorate School
A Tale of Three Interns
Trouble in Paradise
First Posting
Surveillance
Fort Dinosaur
Shadow Zone
Project Dystopia
Fractured Loyalties
Cooking Hot
The Boy
One Love
A Warrior’s Art
Scrambled
The Lawyers of Mars
Fancy Free
Time Loop
In the Rift
Stone
Writing as Zoey Ivers
YA Cyberpunk Adventures:
The Barton Street Gym
Chicago
Atlantis+
Fantasy:
Demi God
