Wizard's Blood [Part Two]

by Bob Blink

  A slight smile momentarily crossed Shyar’s face, but then she turned serious again. “We haven’t planned as yet. The dragons want to go to Angon and meet with the leaders there. We can get an update on how things are going and plan accordingly. The dragons will be able to explain how they can help. A bit of their technology might be as useful as their actual involvement.”

  “Do you have any sense of how things are going at home?” Jolan asked.

  “From a couple of brief exchanges with Tishe, I get the feeling it is starting to fall apart. Winter will provide a respite, but next spring is likely to be very bad unless something changes. I suspect she has been told not to worry us over much since they think we can’t get back until mid winter at best, but I can sense the worry deep inside her.”

  The way Shyar had phrased her statement caught Jolan’s attention. “You say that like we can be back much sooner.”

  “The dragon ships may be damaged, but Iach-Iss says simple flight on the planet is no problem. We can fly back in a couple of hours.”

  “You are talking about one of the skimmers you used to pick me up?”

  Asari grinned and shook his head. “No, those are slower, and while they would make the trip aren’t really armed. We are talking about their scouts, which could go into space and have some serious weapons. Den-Orok showed me around one the other day.”

  “What about the ship?”

  “I’ve already contacted them and told them what is happening. I also explained it is likely we will be taking an alternate path home and that they should stock up on supplies and begin planning for their own departure. The sooner they can start back, the less time they will have to sail under the harsher winter conditions.”

  “When do we go?” Jolan asked, suddenly eager to get back.

  “I’d guess Iach-Iss and Den-Orok will want to have a longer talk with you tomorrow. They are intrigued by you and curious about the current status of Earth. We can do a bit of preliminary planning to make things easier once we get to Cobalo. I’d guess we would leave the next day.”

  Just like that, Jolan thought. Months to get here, all the time with significant dangers, and then suddenly it was easy again. Almost like when they had found the portals. That reminded him.

  “They helped build the portals, didn’t they?”

  “One of the first conscious meldings of their science and magic. They know all about them and there are ways to restrict Ale’ald’s use of them. That’s what I meant about using their knowledge rather than putting them back into the battle itself.”

  It was getting late, and Shyar pulled Jolan to his feet.

  “You need to sleep. There will be time for more questions later. We have rooms down the hall. They have obviously entertained humans here before.”

  “Why did they locate this facility here, so far from everything?” Jolan asked as they walked.

  “Privacy in part. I think it is a bit more like home than the rest of the Settled Lands. Also, for them it isn’t very far. They can travel by their ships quite quickly and I also suspect they have a portal here. Den-Orok has hinted as much, but I haven’t actually seen one. I don’t think they wanted us to jump back home and bring in a bunch of people until you were recovered and a few things have been settled.”

  The rooms that Shyar led them to were a testament to what technology could do. No magic had been used here, but the rooms were far more comfortable and elaborate than anything Jolan had seen in all his time on Gaea. Although subtly different, it was like being in a five star hotel back on Earth.

  As Asari bid them goodnight and headed off to his own room, Jolan couldn’t help but think that his friend had a special glow about him and he seemed as content as he could ever remember him being. He had found his dragons, and while they were different than the stories, Asari had no complaints.

  Chapter 174

  Iach-Iss, whom Jolan had come to think of as the senior dragon whether it was true or not, and Den-Orok reappeared and joined them for breakfast the next morning. Jolan was completely recovered and back to his old self, and if anything, felt better than he had in a long time. He wondered if the dragon’s medi-table had fixed up some of the random aches and pains that he had developed over the past few years while it was cleansing his system of the toxins from the bite he had received.

  The dragons were dressed in essentially the same type of garb as they had been the previous day, although the material had a faint purplish sheen to it today. As they walked into the common room where the three humans sat eating, Jolan couldn’t help but notice the way they walked and moved. Despite having only been exposed to the dragons for part of a day, there were signs obvious to him that showed the dragons’ age and tiredness. Iach-Iss had said that they had used the machines to extend their lives far beyond the normal, and Jolan thought he could detect indications of the fact in the way Den-Orok walked. He didn’t limp, but he clearly favored one leg a bit, perhaps the result of an injury, or maybe it was just age catching up with him. Certain other mannerisms, while different, were suggestive of the way older humans moved when their bodies had reached the point they were starting to fail and movements became an effort rather than simply automatic responses to a person’s desired actions.

  Each of the dragons stopped by the FoodSynth unit and ordered up more food than any six humans could have consumed. They made their way over to the table and sat down on one of the large chairs that surrounded the smaller seats occupied by the humans.

  “We have much to talk about,” rumbled Iach-Iss once he was seated and had greeted the small group. “We can proceed with our planning after we have finished here.” He looked at Jolan and asked, “How are you feeling this day?” It appeared that small talk was considered more appropriate during meal-time.

  Jolan smiled. “I haven’t felt as well in a very long time,” he answered truthfully.

  Iach-Iss nodded. “The medi-table has that effect. It seems to remove the strains of everyday activity while it repairs more significant problems. The extra glow will disappear again in a few days when the normal level of toxins build up in your blood once more.”

  Iach-Iss handed over the small sphere he had been carrying casually in his left claw since coming into the room. It was about a foot in diameter, and was made of some clear material. Lighter than it appeared, it was also strong. Jolan could tell the surface was going to be resistant to any scratches or marking he might attempt. Inside the transparent ball he could see thousands of small grains of some material, all carefully arranged in a lattice array. The materials were not homogenous, as some were larger than others, and a variety of colors could be seen. Everything was far too small to make out any detail, but he had a feeling that there was more to the object than he could see.

  “One of the satellites,” Iach-Iss said. “I thought you might be interested since you have satellites back on your home world. This is a standard model we mass produce for the type of intelligence gathering we have been talking about.”

  “This is it?” Jolan asked. “There aren’t any thrusters or means to hold it in orbit. How does one communicate with it?”

  “It interacts with the gravitational and magnetic fields to hold its programmed position,” Iach-Iss explained. “Power is obtained directly from the magnetic and gravitational field interactions, so it never runs out. The communications system is a very different type from what you are used to, and doesn’t require a conventional antenna. They are quite advanced, and require no active control. Once put into place they will continue to operate for many thousands of years. They can, of course, be retasked from afar.”

  Jolan looked at the marvel he held in his hand. Among the many functions this small ball could perform, was the ability to bring pictures of someone on the surface with such resolution it looked like one was a few dozen feet above them. He hoped he could spend many days in detailed discussions with Iach-Iss and Den-Orok. What marvels he could learn!

  “Can I ask a question?” Jolan inquired.
>
  Iach-Iss nodded. “Of course. Anything we can answer we will.”

  “It was you who removed the copper from Gaea wasn’t it? I have thought about it for some time and now that I realize it must have been done using technology rather than magic it makes a bit more sense. Why did you do it?”

  Jolan received another of the sharp toothy grins, although this one looked a bit sad.

  “It was one of the more foolish endeavors we got involved in during our long tenure here. The wizards requested it years before our relationship soured. We argued among ourselves about the wisdom of doing this for a long time. Ultimately the simple challenge of doing such a thing, plus the possible benefits of ensuring a strong leadership, won out, despite the fearsome toll it took on our resources. It was perhaps one of our bigger mistakes, and in my mind marked the beginning of the path that led to the wars.”

  “You didn’t really remove all the copper from Gaea, did you?”

  The dragon’s wise old eyes lingered on Jolan for a minute. Then he shook his head. “That would have been far more than we could have taken on. It was enough to remove the copper from those areas where the people of the Settled Lands could access it. That took almost twenty years. There is a lot of copper in a typical world.”

  Den-Orok asked. “Do you have any idea how much copper we removed?”

  “About a moon’s worth,” Jolan replied immediately. “A moon the size of Zeirr say.”

  Den-Orok looked at Iach-Iss for a moment. Jolan wondered what passed between them. He was sure they communicated frequently telepathically and passed thoughts that weren’t meant for the humans. Normally they did it without letting it show, but Jolan had surprised them.

  “You knew?” Iach-Iss said finally.

  “I wondered,” Jolan corrected. “The small moon has seemed out of place to me for some reason since I arrived. Since the copper would be difficult to actually destroy, it had to be put somewhere. Besides, whoever could perform such a feat might want to hedge their decision and keep the material handy against a future need.”

  “Indeed,” agreed Iach-Iss. “Do you know what is in the center of that mass of copper?”

  Jolan should have guessed, but he was still thinking about the magnitude of moving so much mass into orbit and creating an object as large as Zeirr. He shook his head.

  “Our ship,” Den-Orok said with satisfaction at having stumped Jolan for the moment. “At the core is an interstellar ship that was once the pride of our world. Now it is an almost useless hulk, most of the equipment and capability stripped out of her long ago.”

  “Why put the ship in the center of the moon?” Shyar asked.

  “It was expedient to use the ship as the locus for the teleportation of the copper into space, and the rest followed naturally. We left an opening to allow access to the ship, and it also served to hide the ship from sight. Before we stripped the power systems, it would have been easy enough to extract her from the moon, but now that option is gone.”

  “You said before that the other survivors elected to return to the ship. Perhaps they are still there and you could contact them,” Asari suggested.

  Den-Orok shook his head sadly. “I doubt most would have made it in the first place. The scouts were all so badly damaged that attempting orbital flights was risky at best. The scouts we have left here could not have made the trip. Any that actually made it to the ship will have perished in the suspension chambers there. There was not enough power in the reserve system to maintain the chambers for this long. One way or another, they have gone.”

  The conversation had taken a direction that no one had intended, and the meal was finished in relative silence. No one seemed to know where to start with a change of topic. Soon, they departed as a group and moved into the more comfortable lounge to begin the more serious discussions that were necessary.

  “Your enemy knows of us,” Iach-Iss said once they had been seated. “He is using the staff of power that allows such Farsight.”

  Jolan and Shyar weren’t surprised. Shyar had said she had sensed the viewing the previous evening. They were surprised that the dragons knew of it and said as much.

  “The six staffs of power were all created with our help. We can easily sense their use. The staffs, along with some of the rings and a few other devices were more of our mistakes. Engineers being what they are feel the need to engineer, and the challenge of mixing our technology with the incredible magical power of this world was too much to resist. Some of our own products were instrumental in our downfall. The staff that Shyar carries, and the one you had before, could easily bring down one of the scouts in the hands of a wizard of a high enough level. Neither of you have the level or ability at the moment, but at the time there were a significant number who could do so as both of you will be able to one day. Before much longer each of you will have reached levels where you can do the same. The amplifier you lost was another dangerous device as I mentioned the other day. It really became obvious how dangerous in the hands of a level twelve or higher mage. The effects were unpredictable, but could often raise the potential of an already fearsome wizard to unbelievable levels. Lower level wizards started to become a problem when they stumbled upon the ability to triad. Combine the triad and some of the power implements we helped make and we had an enemy that we had difficulty dealing with. I was disturbed to learn that the knowledge to bond in that manner still exists. It will make the lower level wizards of today’s Gaea a potential problem. While they wouldn’t have been able to harm us when we were young and our equipment was properly maintained, both we and the ships are not in the shape they once were. You will see a bit later what I mean.”

  “Do you think he knows what you are?” Shyar asked. “I could sense his touch, and it came when we were all together, so I assumed he must be aware of you. Can he know who you are, and where we are?”

  “We are certain he knows where you are,” Iach-Iss said. “From our satellite monitoring Ale’ald appears to have remained more aware of this area than the rest of the Settled Lands. From your descriptions of the man and what we have seen, he is quite smart. He must know where you are in general, although the specific location would be unlikely. Even if he were to appear just outside, he has no power capable of penetrating the barrier so that is not a concern. We have made changes to the barrier, and other than ourselves, you three humans are the only beings on Gaea with the ability to pass through the outer perimeter. No longer can all of the dragon friends pass through as Asari did.”

  Den-Orok added, “It is also likely Cheurt will make the correct guess as to who we must be. That will cause him considerable concern. If we appear to be joining your side, which we are, then he will see a need to act more quickly and will be wondering how to deal with us. I’m certain he will put his scholars to work on finding anything in the old records that might help him. We cannot know what records they might still have.”

  “Don’t take this wrong,” Jolan said, “but why would you automatically want to join us? You have been out of touch a long time, and as you said, you have done your part.”

  “For Gaea it has been a long time. Long enough we have been all but forgotten. Because of the suspension chambers, for us it has been only a couple of months since we last fought, and this is like the continuation of the same war. We left tasks undone, and the same evil force that wanted to control the world then is still festering. We are far less potent than before, but we might be able to help against this far weaker generation of wizards. There is nothing left for us otherwise. As Shyar must have told you, we never really expected to wake again. Only in the rare situation where our own kind finally came in response to the beacon would we have expected to be brought back. Now we have only a very short time left to us, perhaps a decade, most likely less. It would be good to pass on knowing the task was truly done.”

  “What do you suggest?” Jolan asked.

  “We need to go to visit with your leaders in Angon,” Iach-Iss said. “That way we can see exactly
what the current situation is. From that point we can consider possible plans. We can bring our knowledge of the world. For example, you wanted better control of the portals. We can do that easily enough. We can bring information. With the satellites, we can see much of what Ale’ald is doing in detail they would never consider. The scouts can still fly and fight, which will also give an advantage from the air. We have seen what damage Ale’ald did with those pathetic little aircraft of theirs.”

  “From what you say, the scout vehicles sound like they are in pretty bad shape,” Jolan observed.

  “Under normal conditions they would have long ago been thrown into the recycler,” Den-Orok growled. “Unfortunately, times are not normal. While the ships were once able to withstand the assault of the most powerful wizards on Gaea, the rise of the triads, the magic enhancing devices, and the repeated battles have seriously degraded the shields and weapons. They are still to be feared, especially by most of the wizards in today’s world, but they are nothing like they used to be. Also, as you will see when we go out and inspect them, they were never intended as fighters against ground troops with swords or men who could wield magical power. The weapons had been designed to fight against similarly equipped vehicles, and had to be modified to the task at hand.”

  Iach-Iss agreed. “After the last battle the ships were never repaired. There was little reason. The war was thought to be over, and we were all going into the final sleep. Even had we wanted to do something, the parts required are not the kinds of things the Synths can produce, and our spares were all exhausted. In addition, those among us who were most expert in the maintenance of the flyers had been killed in the last round of battles. All of us could fly, but the details of the machines are quite involved. I am more administrator and medical expert. Den-Orok is a pilot and a fighter, but also was not an expert on the repair of the equipment.”