Guardians Inc.:Thundersword (Guardians Incorporated #2)

by Julian Rosado-Machain

  “You mean like in the Future?” Thomas asked. This was one of those Bolswaithe's explanations that actually made some sense. “What about Verðandi?” Lord Odin had asked Ratatosk which Norn had been the one to open the door for him, and when Ratatosk had said Verðandi, Lady Frigg had said that it actually made sense.

  “That which is happening,” Bolswaithe said. “Could mean Present.”

  “So Urðr, controls the Past?” Thomas said pulling out the star amulet Urðr had given him. Maybe her gift could be used to control time. “Do you think I can control time, the past, with this amulet?”

  “It's all theory and extrapolation, Thomas,” Bolswaithe said. “Humanity is almost to the point where we can travel in time, although only in one direction.”

  “What?” Thomas said. “When did that happen?”

  “It’s been happening for many years now. Sick people freeze their bodies or even just their heads right after they die in hopes that in three or four hundred years in the future they can be re-animated and cured. There's a whole industry around it. It’s called Cryonics.”

  Thomas hopes evaporated; he had heard about that many times. Supposedly Walt Disney and Bruce Lee had been frozen and were waiting to be thawed-out in the future. “That's not time traveling, Bolswaithe.”

  “It is in a way,” Bolswaithe said. “And it will be for them if they are ever reanimated. Imagine going to sleep today and waking up in the future.”

  “That's not what Skuld did to me. She didn't freeze me.”

  “For all purposes you were frozen in time, like a marble statue that moved just a couple of centimeters every day. Now you're moving at hyper-speed, and the rest of the world seems frozen in time.”

  “And how is that possible?”

  “A lot of scientists were asked to think about your state. The most promising theories came from theoretical physicists, but you know how they are.”

  “Of course.” Thomas didn't actually know how they were, but most of the times Bolswaithe explained something to him out of which he understood only ten percent of, was about theoretical physics.

  “There are the reports for you to read in one of the folders in this wristpadd,” Bolswaithe said.

  “Can't you give me a summary?” Thomas said, and before Bolswaithe could begin he added, “very short, please?”

  “It’s Relative Velocity Time Dilation,” Bolswaithe said. “That short?”

  Thomas smiled; at least Bolswaithe still had a sense of humor. “A little longer,” he said, “but simple terms please.”

  “The faster you move, the more time slows down from your point of view. Although you're not moving at the speed of light, which is what the physicists would have liked to see, you're still incredibly fast... Theory of Relativity gets complicated, but I can tell you the principles.”

  “It's okay, Bolswaithe,” Thomas said. “We'll file it under ‘Magic’.”

  “That's right human,” Ratatosk spoke for the first time since arriving from his forage into the Mansion’s grounds. The squirrel came back with both cheeks full of nuts. “Norns are very powerful, even more powerful than the Aesir.”

  “I thought they were Aesir themselves,” Bolswaithe said.

  “Oh no...” Ratatosk pulled out a nut from his cheek and munched on it. “The Aesir actually visit the Norns when they need guidance—so do the Olympians and many of the others. I once took Bastet to them, because she wanted to ask them how to meet Eros.”

  “Bastet?” Thomas asked.

  “Egyptian pantheon, Goddess of love and fertility,” Bolswaithe chimed in.

  “A beast head,” Ratatosk said, and after Thomas lifted a questioning eyebrow he added, “She has the head of a cat, but she's sexy as hell.”

  “They actually have animal heads?” Bolswaithe asked. “Interesting.”

  “Yes, they do,” Ratatosk said at the wristpadd. “I think that is one of the things Eros likes about Bastet.”

  “Eros is Greek, isn't he? God of...love?” Thomas began to catch up with what they were saying. Eros’s name had sprung so many words that it was easy to guess what he was good at.

  “Sexual love. Passion,” Bolswaithe said. “Yes, he's Greek. The Romans called him Cupid.”

  “Poor Bastet,” Ratatosk sighed. “Eros’s girlfriend is Aphrodite. I mean, when she found out about it...Wow!”

  “Really? Eros and Bastet?” Bolswaithe asked.

  “Doomed to fail,” Ratatosk said. “Almost as bad as Amaterasu and Tecciztecatl. Imagine a Shinto Sun Goddess going out with the Aztec ‘Old Man on the Moon,’” Ratatosk tsked repeatedly.

  “Really?” Bolswaithe asked. “Sun and Moon?”

  “It was a scandal,” Ratatosk said. “And then there were—”

  “The Norns?” Thomas nudged Ratatosk. They had digressed too much already and something told him that if he allowed Ratatosk and Bolswaithe to go at it he would know all of the ancient Gods’ indiscretions.

  “The Norns, the Fates, the Sisters of Destiny…call them whatever you want,” Ratatosk said. “They are beyond all Pantheons, but influence all of them too. If you ask me, I think they are way more powerful.” He tapped his head. “They know what's going on.”

  “And they control time?” Thomas asked.

  Ratatosk thought about it for a second. “This is the first time this happened to me, and like I told you in the chamber, I've taken a lot of people to see them.”

  “It's not the first time in our experience,” Bolswaithe said. “There is a report that the Norns gave Agatha Christie sand after her interview at the Well of Urd and she disappeared too. But it was only eleven days, not seven months. That's how we knew how to prepare for your return and set up this wristpadd. Christie left us a detailed account of what had happened in those eleven days. She was moving so fast that time was distorted. Two days for her, eleven for us.”

  “Okay.” Thomas had heard enough. “So what happens now? When will I be back on our time?”

  “You're back already,” Ratatosk mocked him. “Even I got that.”

  Thomas glared at the squirrel. “I mean, at the same speed as the rest of the world.”

  “I can guess,” Bolswaithe said. “I've already had to adjust the frequency of my pulse-generated voice because you're slowing down. But at the present rate, it'll be about a week for you and about three hours for us.”

  “That's not the same as Christie's.”

  “It's not the same variables, and that's good because Christie only spent thirty minutes with the Norns. You were there a couple of hours before Skuld gave you the sand. I can only guess there is a reason why the Norns chose to take you away for seven months.”

  “Reasons are their thing,” Ratatosk said. “But I'll tell you that you are different. I'd never seen the water on their fountain go crazy like it did when you touched it, and it took them a long time to decide what to do with you.”

  “He's a Cypher,” Bolswaithe said. “He's actually deciphered a sign from the Oracle already.”

  Ratatosk froze. Pieces of nut fell from his open mouth as he looked at Thomas with wide eyes. “You are touched by the Oracle?”

  Not again... Thomas thought. Even the Messenger of the Gods seemed to think he was very special.

  “That's why the Norns didn't know what to do with you!” Ratatosk opened his hands. “Pantheons are here, and the Norns are here,” he said, indicating with his hands. “But the Oracle is way up there!” he pointed at the sky above. “It’s Pillar Magic and one of the strongest too! The Oracle is the protector of Life Magic!”

  “Yes, I know,” Thomas said in a bored voice.

  “It's a big honor!” the squirrel said. “I mean very big! You are the Oracle's champion!”

  “I know, all right?” Thomas yelled and the squirrel stepped back.

  “No,” Ratatosk said, turning around. “I don't think you do…. I'll see you later.” He took off toward the trees and Thomas didn't even try to stop him. He was just tired of people acting differe
ntly once they found out that he was a Cypher. This honor had only brought him troubles.

  A couple of minutes passed before Bolswaithe spoke again. “Are you all right, Thomas?”

  “Yeah,” Thomas sighed. “Don't worry, I'll apologize later.”

  “I know.”

  “So tell me,” Thomas said, sitting by the fountain and smacking some of the frozen water droplets with his hand. “How is everyone?”

  Bolswaithe began to tell him about the seven months he'd been away.

  It was a terrible story.

  Fractures

  “The League of Nations is falling apart.” Bolswaithe displayed a report and timeline of events on the wristpadd as he spoke. “Ninety percent of the African and Indian clans have retired their ministers and about half of the Asian clans too. They see your disappearance as the last drop and the Guardians’ ultimate failure.”

  “Hoormel Kian?” Thomas enlarged a picture of the Minister, who was giving a speech to the assembly; he seemed full of anger and disgust.

  “It's mostly his doing, but he stayed in the League where he can do more damage. He’s even convinced two of the ancients to secede already and a couple of South American clans.”

  “I see King Seryaan has been very active,” Thomas read on the report.

  “Damage control. Seryaan and the other Elven Nations had kept the Methos and the American and European clans in the League, but with the League falling apart, the United Nations had to react to the instability and now tensions have risen in the human counterparts too.”

  “How has Guardians Inc. reacted to all of this?”

  “We have short of twenty five thousand Watchmen and only thirty-seven Fire teams across the world, but we are not an army. We depend on the Fauns’ cooperation to keep the peace between all factions. Tony has been very active these last three months. He caught another Namtarii trying to get into the VECTOR Institute in Novorsibirsk.”

  Thomas felt a needle in his stomach; he had forgotten already about the Namtarii escaping from their Keep, and how the Doctor had wanted that to be a victory. As he read through the reports of the Namtarii’s activities, he saw that it had been one of the main reasons Hoormel Kian used to cite the Guardians’ failure.

  That and his fight at Ethipothala Falls.

  “Was it one of the escapees?” Thomas realized that he didn’t even know who had escaped; his going to the Aesir had been just hours after that blunder.

  “Unfortunately no. The Namtarii Tony fought against was Abbas. The VECTOR Institute is one of the holders of the last Smallpox samples, and the other is the CDC in Atlanta. Abbas was trying to get it out from the high security keep. He had never been in our custody.”

  Bolswaithe displayed the profiles of those who had escaped. One had been a Guardian once, Obadiah. He had been responsible for Cholera epidemics in Mediterranean cities during the Middle Ages, and the other was the one Tony had slapped in the Keep. Tsikiko, the Daughter of the Dark Moon. She had killed her own people and decimated the Japanese Islands and the Chinese coast again and again through the ages. After Isaurus, she had been the most evil and determined, and with him dead she had become the most dangerous Namtarii alive.

  “Shahrukh and Thawaret had actually been moved in a containment lab inside the Mansion, and they’ve been very helpful in counteracting their free brethren. The Doctor even contacted the Dealmaker on their behalf to see if he would free Qianna,” Bolswaithe told him as the wristpadd displayed the two “converted” Namtarii.

  Thomas couldn’t imagine the Guardians dealing with the Dealmaker ever again after what he had done in the Keep. “Why would we want to contact him again?”

  “He’s a very powerful creature,” Bolswaithe said. “We can’t just ignore him.”

  “We could just imprison him,” Thomas said and actually meant it. That was a creature that the world would definitely be better off without.

  “I don’t think we can,” Bolswaithe said. “There are many reports through the ages about whole armies going after him and ending up dead, or worse, disappearing without a trace.”

  Bolswaithe displayed the story of the lost Ninth Roman Legion. Its final orders were to “Find, apprehend, and bring to justice, dead or alive, the betrayer of its greater Commander, Julius Caesar.” Apparently the Dealmaker had played Caesar, Mark Anthony, Cleopatra, and later Octavian against each other until Octavian decided that it had been enough and taken power as Augustus, Rome’s First Emperor.

  More than a hundred years and thirteen emperors later, the Dealmaker had been spotted again in Scotland, and the Ninth Legion sent after him as a matter of Roman pride.

  No one had heard of them ever again.

  “The Doctor forbids all actions of Guardian Watchmen and Fire Teams against him, and he specifically told Tony to keep far away from the Dealmaker or be expelled from the company. He asked Mrs. Pianova to deal with the Dealmaker for Qianna’s return in Shahrukh's stead.”

  “So she’s back?”

  “Her body is,” Bolswaithe said. “We don’t think her mind will ever be.”

  It was actually sad. If Qianna, like Shahrukh and Thawaret, had decided to reform she had found a fate worse than death instead of redemption.

  “Shahrukh and Thawaret are hopeful though,” Bolswaithe continued. “The Doctor isn’t as optimistic.”

  “I see he’s been getting worse since I disappeared,” Thomas said. Because of the aggravated arthritis caused by Isaurus, the Doctor had had to step back from the public eye and the day-to-day running of the company.

  “Isaurus’s attack took the Doctor near the advanced stages of his sickness, and it has kept progressing. We’ve tried everything—medicine, Elven Magic, but even his own power as wielder of the Aesculapious Cane has proved ineffective, but as soon as we knew you were coming back he accepted an extensive and radical surgery. He just came out of it.”

  “How is he?” Thomas asked. He didn’t like to hear “extensive” and “radical” in the same phrase.

  “He’s in intensive care,” Bolswaithe said. “Just as visiting the Namtarii was the last resort for trying to stop Morgan; this procedure is the Doctor’s last resort. Should it fail, the Doctor might have to step from Guardians Inc. and the Council.”

  “I thought those positions were for life.”

  “Exactly,” Bolswaithe said. “He would decline any treatment and let himself die in order to have a successor.”

  “Can’t he just resign? Find someone to take his place?” Thomas couldn’t believe that the Doctor needed to die in order to have a successor. It was too drastic.

  “I guess that the transfer of the Aesculapious Cane works that way. Many already believe that Elise could be the next CEO of Guardians Inc., as she has had to fill many of the Doctor’s responsibilities inside the Mansion.”

  “Elise…” Thomas remembered her been carried away by the medical teams with her skin covered in scabs. “How is she?”

  Thomas felt that Bolswaithe was taking his time to respond, as if deciding how to tell him about Elise. “She’s been taking her new role well,” he said.

  Bolswaithe was definitely trying to hide something from him. “What else, Bolswaithe?” he asked. “Tell me everything.”

  “Elise was as affected by the Namtarii, just like the Doctor, maybe even more,” Bolswaithe said.

  “Shahrukh said that the sickness was cured!” Thomas said. He remembered how Shahrukh had saved her life from Smallpox.

  “There is nothing wrong with her physiologically,” Bolswaithe said, “but her emotional state has been greatly affected.”

  “How?”

  “She has become withdrawn, emotionally unstable,” Bolswaithe said. “She even tried to commit suicide.”

  “What? Suicide! Why?”

  “The scars, Thomas,” Bolswaithe said. “The Smallpox left her terribly scarred and she’s become chronically depressed. She has cut her ties to her family and friends, even Tony and I, and concentrated only on her work.�
��

  “Where is she now?” Thomas needed to see her. Suicide? The Elise he had left behind had been full of life, fun, beautiful, and also one of the strongest people he knew. He couldn't believe that scars would drive her to suicide. Maybe the others had just not been there for her as she had needed it, but he wouldn't let her down.

  “She’s in the Doctor’s office, but I don’t know if it is a good idea for you to see her until you have returned to our timeframe.”

  Thomas stood up from the fountain. “I’m going right now.”

  “I advise against it,” Bolswaithe said.

  “Try to stop me.” As Thomas entered the Mansion, everyone he saw was static and frozen in place. A tech had been running through the corridor and she seemed suspended in air, her ponytail frozen in a mockery of speed behind her.

  “Thomas, please…” Bolswaithe said as he ran up the stairs and approached the Doctor’s office.

  “I’ll leave you here, Bolswaithe!” Thomas said as he unlocked one of the wristpadd’s straps. “I swear.”

  “Very well,” Bolswaithe said, and a little green button on the wristpadd turned on.

  Thomas entered the Doctor’s office. Through the windows he could see a marsh, maybe Florida, trees crooked and moss hanging from the branches, fog covering the surface of the murky water. He knew that the office windows could show any place on Earth, but Elise had chosen this area and it was a dark sign. It was gloomy and depressive, and Thomas realized that she had chosen this setting as a reflection of her mood.

  The lights were dimmed, and he had to scan the room twice to find her. She was standing near the Doctor’s desk wearing a long, dark cloak, her head covered, and her back toward him as she looked at a screen.

  He slowly approached her. He noticed that she was wearing long, black gloves. As he reached her, he was shocked to see a gray mask, no more than a featureless oval, with a fine mesh over the eyes and mouth slits.