Today's Spacemage

by Timothy Ellis

  A blink later, I was back on the beach.

  "All saved?" asked Tasha.

  "Yes."

  "Something went wrong?" asked Jen.

  "Nearly. I almost sent the nuke I feared I might have sent, back to my first life home."

  "How big was the hole?" asked Tasha. I described it for her. "It wasn’t a nuke then. Very high yield explosive device, but not really a nuke."

  "He called it a mini-nuke."

  "Ah. Still not a nuke though. Not that anyone blown up with it could tell the difference."

  "The bastard lied to me."

  "Why does that surprise you?" asked Lea.

  "It doesn’t. But he intended to kill all of you, regardless of my decision."

  "Sounds like him," said Jen.

  "Is he gone now?" asked Jess.

  "Yes. The shuttle melted."

  "Good riddance," said Jen.

  "Shall we celebrate for lunch?" asked Tasha.

  Fifty Nine

  There were still several last loose threads to deal with.

  After lunch I jumped to the island I'd sent the remaining crews, before their ships disintegrated on my force wall, over their homeworld. I went with orange skin, and inquisitor insignia.

  The island had very little going for it. Beaches around the outside, low trees behind the dunes, and mainly grass and small bushes inland. It was a windswept blob in the middle of the ocean, and was nowhere near big enough for the number of people I’d dropped on it. They'd made a good start on providing themselves with basic shelter, utilizing the containers and pallets their food and water had been stored in.

  I'd chosen a spot to appear in, nearby the senior captain, where he'd see me appear. I recognized him as the one who'd stood up to his admiral while I’d been watching once.

  His shock rippled outward as he saw me standing there all of a sudden, and all activity stopped. Some of them dropped to their knees.

  "Are you the one responsible for us being here?" the captain asked me.

  "Yes. And I apologize for how long it's been too."

  "Apologize? We should be thanking you for us still being alive. I assume our ships are gone?"

  "All of them. I was trying to get your leaders to spare the rest of you, but they refused, so I moved all the crews here."

  "Moved us? If it wasn’t heresy to say so, one would think you practiced magic."

  "I do. And it's no longer heresy. Your new marshal is changing things."

  "New marshal?"

  I explained what had happened, and the changes now being made.

  "The inquisitors are really gone?"

  "They are. Any remnants of them will be picked up by the police forces on each planet."

  "But you wear the uniform."

  I shifted back to my judge uniform, and changed my skin colour. There was a lot of exclamations of surprise, and even more dropped to their knees.

  "Now I understand. You were the one who vanquished us."

  "No, I kept throwing you away, so you'd get the message there was no fair fight to be had."

  "The admirals didn’t think that way, and it was heresy to suggest it."

  "I know. They’ve paid for it too."

  "Did you kill them?"

  "Most of them went to a penal colony."

  "The marshal?"

  "He is dead. As is the senior general for my people."

  "What becomes of us?"

  "What do you want to happen?"

  "Most of us want to go home."

  "I understand you're all draftees? How many will want to stay in the military?"

  "Some. I'd like to help rebuild the fleet. Did you actually leave any ships intact?"

  "The so-called secret fleet remains, but it's been broken up, and sent to each of the jump points out of your space. The four ships we mauled when entering your space, are safely at your shipyard. Both sides have about the same fleet size, and all of them are tasked to border protection, with a neutral system between our spaces."

  "Do we have any senior flag officers left?"

  "Only the secret fleet commander, but he was going to be retired. I've not checked if he was or not. Both sides need to rebuild their flag ranks with officers who care about their people."

  "And if we get more of the same?"

  "They'll be judged."

  "By you?"

  "Yes."

  "What are our options?"

  "Those who wish to remain in the military should form one group. Those who wish to go home for civilian life, should form another. Anyone you or your captains consider a threat to peace, or the coming elections and civilian government, should be put in another group."

  "There are a few. The inquisitors usually had at least one set of eyes on each ship, and I wouldn’t trust any of them. Several of the captains joined the military voluntarily, and aspire to flag rank. I think those should go to your penal colony."

  "I'll go with your judgment, but be warned. If I find you're doing the opposite, you'll end up there yourself."

  "Fair enough. Where can I tell those going to the penal colony they're going?"

  "The only ships available for anyone to go too directly, are those ones in the shipyard. You can tell them they'll be going there. Your military group will be going to command HQ for reassignment. The rest to the other side of the building for retirement."

  "Fine. I'll get on with it."

  It took over an hour for him to talk to everyone in small groups, starting with the captains, and for each group to form in a different place. There were after all, thousands of people here.

  The penal group were moved first, set down not far inland from the main beach, since the beach itself didn’t have a large enough unused area to put them.

  The soon to be civilian group moved to a courtyard outside the section of their HQ used for retirements. They'd need to adapt to a group being released from the military early, instead.

  The captain and his group I moved to another courtyard, adjacent to the operations section, and flag offices.

  This left one more group. I walked over to them. There appeared to be some hundred people left, almost equally of men and women.

  One of them came forward.

  "We'd like to stay."

  "Here?"

  "Yes."

  "It'll be a hard life. There's not much here."

  "We know. But we don’t want to go home, or to anywhere in our space. This island is so isolated, we hope we never get disturbed being here."

  "How will you eat once the food runs out?"

  "There's fresh water here in several places, and plenty of fish. All we'd really ask for is some proper tools, and fishing gear."

  "Make a list, I'll see you get them."

  "Thank you."

  "A warning though. This planet has no seasons. It will always be like this. The penal colony is around the other side of this world, on a bigger and better island. I don’t recommend you go there, no matter how it gets here. One way takes you into the freezing cold, and the other way takes you into the perpetually really hot. And that’s just around the equator. Are you really sure you want to stay here?"

  There was a chorus of yes behind him.

  "Okay. I'll send you your list as soon as I can. I'll also leave a ward here. If the island becomes uninhabitable, or you desperately need something, call my name, and I’ll come."

  "What's your name?"

  "Thorn."

  Sixty

  Moving people seemed to be the theme of the afternoon.

  When I arrived at the parliament building, I found all those on the treason list prepared by the colonel, had been rounded up. Just to be sure, I tested each of them with a 'tell the truth' compulsion, to ensure only the guilty were punished. I needn't have bothered though. The Colonel had been accurate. And complete. One by one, I moved them all to the penal main beach.

  I had one of the PM's aides take me to a sports store which catered to beach fishing. I sent ten copies of everything in the section t
o the middle of the island. The variations of each thing would provide enough for everyone to have something to use.

  Next stop was a hardware store, where I sent every type of tool they had, which didn’t require mains power, including general tools like shovels, picks, bars, saws, and chisels. But they would still need power generation to recharge batteries, so the next stop was military.

  I sent a copy of their aid relief containers, which also included power generators similar to those used in small ships. Not needing fuel, and rated for fifty years, I thought they'd be enough for the small colony. I also sent several battery powered vehicles which could lift pallets, and tow containers. The aid relief also included rapid build housing modules, sufficient to build a colony hub, and more tents than they'd likely need.

  All in all, I hoped it was enough. I made a note on my pad to check in on them periodically. I wasn’t at all sure leaving them there was a good idea. There was no real day or night. No change of seasons. Just a constant always like this. Anyway, they wanted to stay, so I’d make sure they thrived. If not, I could always find them a better place.

  Once back at the parliament, I asked for summaries of the court cases of all the judges. Scattered as they were around the planets, there were a lot of them, but I quickly found the ones I needed to pay a visit to. Cases where slavery, rape, and crimes against people, had all been dismissed, or too small a sentence had been given out.

  I made a quick visit to each judge. I introduced myself, with most of them going white at my name. Truth compulsion soon sorted out those who were corrupt, and those who were simply misguided. The former found themselves on a beach. The latter were warned I’d be watching them from now on.

  I wasn’t going to be, but I left wards in each court room, which would tell when a trial was going the wrong way. It would only take a few visits from me at sentencing time over the next week or so, to make sure they did the correct thing in the future.

  Lastly, before going home, I checked the desert. The sign was broken up into little pieces. The shovel was beside one of five new holes. The occupants of the holes had all killed themselves. I filled them in, and left an unmarked gravestone on top. I hadn't seen anyone on my previous visit, but then, I hadn't been looking either. But they must have been there watching, while I was talking to the general. Something about it had made them decide killing themselves was better.

  I remade the sign, larger this time, with both languages on it. And added intent so it couldn’t be pulled up or broken apart again. The shovel was again leant up against it.

  I cast my sight out, looking for those who'd fallen. When I found a body, I created a grave, and put a blank marker on top. Quite a few were still going.

  One looked like he might actually make it. He'd cleverly made himself a hat out of plants, which kept his face and neck shaded. He obviously had some botanical knowledge, as he was carrying plants from which he sucked the moisture stored in their leaves.

  I looked along his path. He was still days away from the nearest water, but he did have a chance of making it.

  Another job for the next week. Checking for the newly dead, and more burial details.

  My last stop was where the city had once been. Nothing but a monument, with a pad behind glass.

  It was a somber note to arrive home on. I had my peace, but the cost had been high. I’d been called a monster, and just at this moment, I felt like one.

  Tasha caught my mood, and kept things light over dinner.

  Sixty One

  "Are you a god, Thorn?"

  Tasha was lying next to me, propped up on one arm, and gazing into my eyes.

  "What? Why would you ask something like that?"

  "You have god like powers."

  "Not really."

  "What would you call them?"

  It took me a moment.

  "I'm a magician. Nothing more, nothing less."

  "So all magicians are this powerful?"

  "Well, no. But I knew some who were."

  "Who?"

  "The Battlemage of our village was at least as powerful. The mages who tried to kill me were too. And the king certainly was."

  "And yet, the untrained you escaped them easily."

  "I wouldn’t say easily. But I was good at shielding, even back then."

  "And now?"

  "And now what?"

  "Would any of them be able to challenge you now?"

  I thought about it.

  "The king might. I really don’t know how powerful he was, since he never had much chance to demonstrate it."

  "But you escaped him easily."

  "He wasn’t expecting someone to be able to escape him at all. And I think he wanted me alive if at all possible."

  "You said he was trying to kill you."

  "He appeared to be. But maybe he was only trying to collapse my shield. Anyway, he's so long dead as to not be an issue."

  "So you are a god."

  I shook my head, and sighed.

  "Not even close. Besides, there must be magic out there in the galaxy somewhere, and where there is, there will be someone, or something, who's far more powerful than me."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "I read books."

  She laughed.

  "And?"

  "When you carry a big gun, there is always someone with a bigger gun out there."

  She looked down my length for a moment, and grinned.

  "Your gun is quite big enough for my liking."

  "Ha-ha."

  "So what are you going to do now?"

  "I'm doing it."

  "Lying in bed?"

  "Partly."

  She gave me a speculative look.

  "Jen wants to get back to trading tomorrow."

  "Fine with me. Her ship is here. All it needs is their stuff transferred, and the ship moved into orbit."

  "Their stuff? So you're not going with them?"

  "No."

  "Why not? I thought you liked it out in space?"

  "I do. But I'm too powerful out there."

  "Why does that matter?"

  "They say all power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely."

  "You really do read too much."

  "Well it's true. Power is addictive. The ability to control people with your power takes control of you the more you use it."

  "But you're wise enough to know when to use it."

  "Maybe. Maybe not. The wisdom about power is in not using it."

  "Huh?"

  "The only way to ensure power doesn’t corrupt you, is when you don’t feel any need to wield it."

  "Explain."

  "Power should only be used when it's needed. Not because you want to. Not because someone else wants you to. Not because you can. Especially not so you can benefit from it, or be recognized for using it. The use of power has to be detached from ego, and desires. And used for the best good."

  "So you're a super hero."

  "I told the admiral I wasn’t one."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I've caused too much death to be one."

  "But everything you've done is for the good of those who can't protect themselves. That's the definition of super hero."

  "You forget how I started out, stealing things."

  "So no-one is perfect."

  "It's still a corruption of power. There are still gold ingots on the ship, which are using power for my own benefit."

  "Super heroes still have to live. And it's not like you took the gold from people, but from places it hadn't been mined. So it was a form of mining."

  "You can justify anything."

  "Sure. But all up, you've done good."

  "Maybe so, more often than not. But I'm being used by others too much. Sometimes without them asking to be sure, but you watch, the requests will start coming faster, the longer I'm around. And that’s something I can't let happen."

  "Why not?"

  "The problem is, power doesn’t only corrupt the wielder. It als
o corrupts the wielder of the wielder, or those who think they can order or manipulate the wielder."

  "You mean the admiral?"

  "Yes, but not just him. Given time, the prime minister, and anyone who replaces her, will come to expect me to do their bidding. It's already begun."

  "How?"

  "The request to move those on the list who preferred the penal colony."

  "But you moved them without comment."

  "Sure. It was the best thing for them. But I did it because it was right, not because I was asked. Over time, a lot of little asks become the expectation of doing a demand. And when someone demands I do their bidding, or threatens other people to get me to do their bidding, corruption takes over everything."

  "Like the admiral did. But the PM isn’t the admiral."

  "Not now. But who knows in the future? I can't take that risk."

  "But you proved today you can fix anything which went wrong."

  "Can I? Can you see all consequences?"

  "Well no, but I don’t have to."

  "Everyone should be looking for consequences before they act."

  "How was saving people this morning generating consequences?"

  "We don’t know what happens after. They died, and there was the consequences of that. Then they didn’t die, and a whole different set of consequences arise. And it's not even that simple. I don’t know if what I did going back for them changed anything, as I may have been there anyway, and they didn’t die at all. I only think I made a choice to go back and save them, but there is no context to prove it one way or the other. When you mess with time, the consequences are…"

  I searched for the right word, but didn’t find it. The only thing which did fit, was too childish to actually say.

  "Are you talking about now, or back in your first life?"

  "Both."

  "You've thought about going back again, haven’t you?"

  "Yes. I can't get rid of the thought I caused the destruction of a whole civilization."

  "Have you figured out how to go back?"