Dancer (Wine of the Gods Book 15)

by Pam Uphoff

  The Natives kept an eye on them and the force field stayed up. After a few hours, Jamie's squad stood down and was sent off to eat. Jamie overheard one of the tech pukes talking about it in the Mess.

  "Radio frequency static has tripled and is steady at that level. The gravity fluctuations come and go. That generally means they're using their Gate, or whatever they do."

  Jamie bit his tongue and managed to not interrupt with a dozen questions.

  The lieutenant with her rubbed his nose. "Actually, I'm wondering if they really can Gate the way we thought. They may have been fooling us with some sort of invisibility all these years."

  The other woman looked thoughtful. "There wasn't any sort of gravity flux when they did the 'now you see me, now you don't' game around the Gate. Those came later, just before we saw all the witches again."

  "They've also been associated with the Gate Man, so it's not just a feminine attribute." He caught the interested looks they were drawing, and shrugged.

  Jamie jumped in before the conversation died. "The man that collapsed, the sergeant said he was your Gate man, and the one that carted him off was Dydit."

  They both sat up at that.

  "Really? Something happened to the Gate Man?" The lieutenant's name stamped on his blouse was Hamza. Arab origin, Jamie wondered if he could speak the Arab/English/Spanish derived language of the Native's other main culture.

  "Brown hair or gray?" the woman asked. "We think there are actually two of him. Or at any rate, two at the moment."

  "A relay of men, keeping up the Mythos?" someone asked.

  "Exactly. He's supposed to be one of their gods, so they can't have him dying now, can they?"

  "Well the man had brown hair," Jamie said. "And he was back on his feet but being supported when they dropped the invisible cloak or whatever."

  At that point all the intelligence people ganged up on the troops and each one had to write down all of their observations before they talked anymore, and messed with other people's observations.

  The Ambassador was recalled for a day, then sent back, with new instructions coming every day, and sometimes just hours apart. They started making bets on what the next demands would be.

  "C'mon, Jamie, how do you keep winning?"

  Jamie grinned. "It's easy. Bet on the worst possible outcome for the Natives and that'll be the new position. Next one will probably be an offer to take the whole population and split it up between the worst of the mining Worlds. No rights, no pay, no options. Slave labor."

  They laughed at that. "C'mon, you know we always guarantee basic rights and minimum wage."

  "Yeah, but the initial offer won't include them." Jamie predicted. "Negotiating room, you know? We'll look like we are giving something up, and make them accept something really shitty."

  "Ah, you're so young to be so cynical." Haubin shook his head sadly. "But since you took all my money on the last bet, I'll stick to your side of this bet."

  The fourth day, the VIP Gated through. Secretary Downey, from the President himself. Three limos and Special Service guards. The camp went quiet as he headed toward the demarcation line.

  Normally the directional mikes would have simply recorded whatever they picked up. Today, with bets riding high, they were connected to small speakers, strategically located where the sound wouldn't get back to the people on the line.

  The SS set off smoke bombs.

  "Huh. Good idea. Check for invisible people." Keith Wainwright nodded his approval, then choked and smothered a laugh as the smoke formed into cancan dancers before it drifted off. Kicking.

  "These people have class." Hancock said. "Gotta give them that."

  Ambassador Johnson walked up to the line first, and the Native Ambassador walked out to meet him.

  "No flunkies. In diplomatic speak, I think he's being rude to our Ambassador."

  "But our guy never has flunkeys. Is he being rude all the time?"

  "He is asserting the Earth's superior status."

  "Bet that goes down well."

  "Good morning, Oklahoma. I see they've inflicted an government official on you."

  "And I see you're still watching us, Benri."

  "But of course." The foreign Ambassador looked a bit irritated. "So, is this a gallivanting face trying to look important, or does this one have actual authority?"

  "Straight from the President."

  "Oh my, I'm so flattered! I really must see about getting some of our allies' representatives out here. Well, if I wanted to muddy the water, at any rate. Scoone has a President, the current one is a woman by the name of Hetso Biny."

  "What sort of influence would her representative have?"

  "Very little. They are an actual democracy, vote on everything. Bringing them in is guaranteed to increase the time required by an order of magnitude." The Native Ambassador kept chatting, but he was looking into the Camp, where the Secretary was approaching.

  "Where you merely need consult with your king?"

  "Unless they pray to their gods." Secretary Downey stopped beside Ambassador Johnson.

  The Native gave him a meaningless diplomatic smile. "I don't think we use the term god in quite the same way you do. Our gods aren't the creators of the Universe and mankind. 'Gods' as we usually use the term are simply very, very powerful 'Magic Tech' users."

  "Like those two spies of yours?" Downey sneered.

  "Which two? The women who studied your system for a week, sixteen years ago? One witch, one wizard. The two men that studied your camp sixteen years ago? Both wizards. Or, if you mean the two chaps from a couple of days ago, that was Dydit, one of the aforementioned wizards, giving a tour to one of the gods."

  The Secretary snorted. "I'd like to meet a god."

  The Native raised an eyebrow, then looked back at his building.

  The Gate Man, brown haired, sauntered out on cue. He was wearing a charcoal grey suit that looked like something from a historical vid.

  "Secretary Downey, I'm Wolfgang Oldham. In the local terminology, I'm a god. Don't take it too seriously, I certainly don't."

  Downey looked him up and down. "We don't allow genetic engineering, after a disastrous war thousands of years ago."

  "Yes, well, welcome to the dumping ground. We've made a home of it. Now, we came by to see if you had any detailed information about the comet you'd sell, or if you were completely ignorant of the problem, to warn you about the impending comet fall so you could remove your people. While no doubt diplomatic contact is overdue between our people, we are a bit busy, so I'll leave the diplomacy to an expert and get on with my own concerns." He nodded politely and stepped away.

  "If you were on Earth, you could be shot on sight as a non-human." Downey said.

  Oldham turned back. "One of the things the genetic engineers tried to accomplish was life span extension. They succeeded very well. I was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin in the year two thousand ninety-five. I know all about the striping of rights from the engineered. I have brain damage from being physically wired into Trans World Travel's Gates."

  He stepped across the demarcation line and into the Secretary's personal space, backing him off. "And I know that some things are worth risking one's life for."

  Jamie tensed. The SS men were just standing there.

  "All through human history groups of people have been dehumanized before being slaughtered. Your attempts to dehumanize us are going to be taken as an act of war if they persist. Take that message back to your leaders."

  The native stared down at the Secretary for a long moment. He topped the Earthman by nearly a foot. Then he shrugged and turned away. "Sorry about that Benri. There's a reason the King sent you to do the talking." The tall native glanced back at Downey. "Go away."

  The man and his body guards disappeared. The Gate Man disappeared.

  Jamie took two startled steps toward the demarcation line, then spun as he spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

  The Secretary and the SS guards were all
standing beside the limos, frozen in the same relative positions, same expressions . . . with a snap that changed. The guards whipped up their weapons, two of them grabbed the Ambassador and shoved him back into the center limo as the rest threatened the troopers as they backed and joined him. The regular troops all backed away. An outer perimeter of SS stayed out as the long minutes ticked away until the Gate opened on schedule. Then the last guards piled into the end limo and all three raced back through the Gate, barely missing the red flagged jeep.

  Jamie shuddered at the thought of a collision in transit.

  The ambassador walked up and glared at the Gate. "Politicians!" He shook his head and caught the captain's eye. "With luck, that will be it for the day. Join me for lunch, Sean?"

  "My place or yours, Oklahoma?"

  Things got back to normal, mostly, after that. Their first rotation back was cancelled, and housing got cramped with the third platoon on hand. But the Gate switched to twice a week openings instead of multiple daily openings, and the Natives had double the number of witches or wizards on hand, although the force field had disappeared two days after Secretary Downey had fled the scene.

  He survived another trip through the Gate, and found out that the only willing women wanted cash up front and weren't half as much fun as the red headed witch. Still, better than his hand . . . the desert around the Gate was even hotter than the prairie around Gate Camp and it was actually a relief to get back.

  On his second rotation, he was contacted by the project.

  "Why haven't you reported?"

  "Because I was ordered to not contact you," he said, exasperated. "I'm a third of the way through, and I've not had much contact with the Natives. I'll take a few more risks, see if I can find out anything about their 'magic' of theirs. If you have any influence, you might consider relaxing the non-fraternization rules between troops and Natives. It'd make it a whole lot easier if I could chat a girl up in a bar or something."

  The man on the other end sputtered. "I think you'd better come back in."

  "I'm in the Army. That's not something I can just shrug off. Consult with the others." Jamie said. "Contact me with firm orders in six weeks." He hung up. And left his phone behind, sealed into his personal kit for storage. He grabbed his personal kit for traveling, and got before they decided to hunt him down. If the project people would just not get impatient, if they were reasonable, maybe he could finish his three year enlistment honorably, which would give him all sorts of work openings with the various Gate companies, or he could re-enlist . . . he shivered as he realized he was actually thinking about a personal future. As if he was in control. I'm a nobody. Earth refuses to consider me a citizen, Purple says I wasn't born there, never set foot in the country . . . If I desert from the Army I'm really lost.

  He didn't manage any rendezvous with his red headed witch, although she did drift by to tickle him, and he observed several of the wizards or mages or whatever, the men, wandering around the perimeter of the Camp, glowing.

  ***

  On his next rotation, Mr. Hubble was there to talk in person. Jamie was mostly frank about his only contacts. Mr. Hubble was interested in his observation of the glowing wizards and their smart ass comments.

  "According to the reports I've read, no one else has seen glowing wizards nor heard any commentary. Pay attention, next time, you may be tapping into their secret communications."

  "Yes, sir."

  He was loaded up with little gadgets to record what he was seeing or hearing and returned to Camp Gate feeling guilty, feeling like a spy in earnest now.

  It was October and the weather was ideal, clear blue skies, crisp cool nights. On the day watch, he watched a bit bemused as one of the younger wizards walked out of the building and circled it, arms out and low, spiraling out . . . the grass was lower behind him, but there was nothing in front of him to cut the grass, dammit.

  "How the bloody hell do you do that?" he muttered.

  The young man heard. Snickered. "Magic. Slice, and yes I can use it as a weapon, too. Quite nasty against someone who can't shield." He swept back around the building. As he approached Jamie on his next pass he smirked. "You should try it. Maybe something simple, eh?"

  He held his hands out, as if holding an invisible cylinder. "Take all the power of the Light between your hands and squeeze it down, concentrate it." His hands glowed. "We call it strangling, for some odd reason. Then use it. Storing it is dangerous, it tends to get subconsciously used for things you know you shouldn't do." He waved his hands out flat and grass tips flew. "Mowing grass is highly recommended" He walked on.

  Jamie lay there frozen. Then he put out his hands and strangled all the light in between them. His hands glowed, and he eyed the glow uncertainly. Magic? All it was, was light. He waved his palms over the grass. Nothing happened. Pity, it would have been cool.

  The glow was still stuck to his hands, though. He shook them, but it stayed. Probably just as well, he could just see miniature fire balls flying off and starting fires in the dry grass.

  And as he saw it in his mind, the glow darted off in little sparks and landed in the tall grass. He hastily beat out the smoking embers, hawking and spitting on them to be sure they were out. The glow was gone. The wizard boy snickered as he walked past again.

  Jamie looked around carefully. No one seemed to have noticed his attempts to incinerate them all. This was definitely project data, not military. He winced, knowing that wasn't actually the case. Knowing that the project would never let him go, now.

  He slid away from the singed spot and went to ground a bit further away. He really didn't want any more five second magic lessons.

  He wondered what his recorders had shown.

  He was relieved and trotted back to camp and dinner, feeling prickly, feeling . . . like he was being watched. He kept thinking he was seeing distortions in the air where a native wizard hid, ready to tease him, to teach him just enough that he'd never be allowed to just be normal.

  Probably just the gate activity, but even after it had cycled closed again, he kept, not-seeing things.

  "Felis," the sergeant snapped, "Why are you so jumpy? This isn't like you."

  Lieutenant Lennox looked around, and Jamie flushed.

  "Sorry sir, I keep thinking I'm seeing things." He scooped up a rock and shied it at the latest glimmer teasing at him.

  It bounced. Off of nothing.

  "Aw shit." the sergeant dived for it, but could find nothing.

  "What did you see, private." He certainly gotten the LT's attention with that one.

  "Just a little ripple, like a heat distortion or something" He looked around and shrugged. "I've been seeing them since I walked back from the Bank."

  "Them. Multiple."

  "Yes, sir." Jamie gulped. "If they aren't my nerves, there must have a bunch of wizards down here tonight."

  "Bloody hell. Come with me." he trotted toward the HQ mod, and straight into the captain's office. "Sir, I think we've got at least one, and possibly a bunch of invisible visitors today."

  "Show me."

  Jamie led the way outside and looked around.

  "Get closer before you point them out this time." Sergeant Johnson growled.

  "Yes, sir." He led off purposely toward the Gate walked past the nearest glimmer, and then wheeled and jumped for it. Got his arms around something, or rather someone. Male, cursing, and not in the Western, almost understandable dialect. This one had more Spanish overtones and the cursing was definitely Arab descended. Did these people even have camels?

  "Well, isn't this interesting." The captain felt the invisible thing Jamie was lying on.

  The sergeant was across the invisible man's legs, and the LT had an arm twisted up behind an invisible back.

  The captain found a buckle and remove a belt with sheathed dagger and sword, suddenly visible as he pulled it away from their prisoner. He kept searching, pulled something over the man's head, and suddenly the man was quite visible.

  Th
ey'd drawn a small crowd, and the captain sent a runner for Lieutenant Hamza. He was back at a run, and grinned at the figure on the ground. "Auralia. The other local power shows its face."

  "Right, let's get him locked up without the Westerners seeing him."

  The man heaved but someone produced handcuffs, and the captain looped something around his neck and he disappeared. They picked him up bodily and carried him to the security mod. The captain removed the whatever and handed it to the female intel tech.

  As a lowly private, Jamie quickly found himself back outside, and the intel types and officers inside. The captain and Lieutenant Hamza both spoke Auralian. Their captive didn't seem interested in speaking at all.

  Jamie looked around the Camp. There were more shimmers.

  "Sirs. There's more of them out here!"

  The female intel tech wiggled out. "Where. Show me."

  "They're just like heat shimmers. We need nets or something . . . " he wheezed, suddenly feeling like he run out of air, like something was trying to squeeze him through a knothole, or maybe the eye of a needle. Gleaming opalescence shimmered overhead, and downward in all directions.

  Sparks and sharp snaps from the northeast. He staggered out and could see they were under a dome and the Westerner's had their force field back up, the larger dome cut across it and where they met electricity arced and lightning crawled.

  He leapt on a shimmer, going for a choke hold at about the right height, and kept his grip and the invisible form collapsed. He felt and found a necklace like ribbon, with a medal. He pulled it off, and exposed another Auralian.

  And suddenly the Westerner's dome was gone and so was the green countryside.

  Dusty, dry air. White yellows, washed out browns. Soldiers. Hundreds. Possibly thousands.

  Jamie looked at the handful of nothing in his hands and looked over at Danielle Sears. "I think you are going to need this worse than I will." She met his eyes and gulped. Bowed her head so he could slip it on.

  "I'll see if I can hide anyone else with me." She sounded breathless, and a faint shimmer backed away.