by Simon Hawke
"The aroma in the courtyard tonight is rather piquant," Rory said as he perched on the parapet of the tower. As usual, fairies buzzed around the huge dragon like flies around a sweaty mare, their bright glow reflecting off his iridescent scales.
"It is getting pretty bad," said Rachel Drum as she sat cross-legged on the flagstones, absently tapping her bongos with her fingertips. "It wouldn't be a bad idea to consider moving the rendering operation."
"Like, to another kingdom," added Brian, the Werepot Prince. Since the moon was full, he had reverted to his human form, which had remained magically youthful despite the fact that he was well over sixty years old. He didn't look a day over eighteen, and he was a very handsome prince, indeed. Unfortunately for him, he only looked this way on nights when the moon was full. The rest of the time, he was a talking chamberpot. It was the result of an enchantment placed upon him by a wizard whose daughter the irrepressible Prince Brian had knocked up, along with half the other young girls in his kingdom. What became of all the other children he had fathered was anybody's guess, but the wizard's daughter had produced a son who had now grown into a man and become a wizard in his own right-none other than Warrick Morgannan.
"I'd feel awkward asking them to move the rendering operation," Brewster said. "The whole thing was my idea in the first place. And it seems the soap is really selling well. It's given them a great sense of accomplishment. I'd hate to put a damper on their enthusiasm."
"So why can't they be enthusiastic somewhere else?" asked Brian sourly. "Each day, the stench grows worse."
"I don't know, I rather like it," said the dragon.
"You would, you great worm," said Brian wryly.
"Look, we did not come here to argue," Brewster pointedly reminded them. "I'll see if I can convince them to move the rendering operation somewhere else, but meanwhile, we have much more important things to discuss. We have to do something about Warrick."
"The time is not yet propitious," said Rory.
Brewster sighed with exasperation. "You always say that Meanwhile, Warrick continues to teleport people to my world, using my machine. I feel responsible. What's going to become of them all? They'll never be able to cope in a modern technological world. What's happening to them is all my fault. I can't just sit by and do nothing!"
"But you are doing something," the dragon replied. "Each day, you are weakening Warrick's base of power. He is the Grand Director of the Sorcerers and Adepts Guild, royal wizard to the richest of the twenty-seven kingdoms, yet each day, that kingdom grows weaker and more unstable. And all because of you."
"He's right, you know," said Brian. "People are leaving Pitt by the score and coming here to make better lives for themselves. Warrick's abuse of power has brought about civil unrest in Pittsburgh, and a revolution is coming. As the economy of Brigand's Roost grows stronger, that of Pitt grows weaker. All this serves to undermine Warrick and make him appear ineffective not only to the people of Pitt, but to his fellow sorcerers in the guild. And if he is perceived to be ineffective, he shall also be perceived as vulnerable."
"What I can't understand is why he hasn't moved against me yet," said Brewster. "By now, he certainly knows who I am, and where I am. So what's he waiting for?"
"Don't ask me," said Rachel. "He's Brian's son."
"Thanks for reminding me," said Brian with a sour grimace. "He may be my son, but I've never even laid eyes on nun, so how should I know what he's thinking?"
"Well, the apple never falls far from the tree," said Rachel. "What would you do if you were in his place?"
"You know, that's an interesting question," Brewster said, gazing at Brian thoughtfully. "Fathers and sons often have similar character traits. And you do know a great deal more about the workings of the guild and the politics of this world than any of us. Seriously, Brian, if you were Warrick, what do you think you would do?"
Brian raised his eyebrows. "Well... I don't know. Let me think a moment." He frowned, trying to picture himself in Warrick's place. "If I were the Grand Director of SAG, and I stumbled upon a magical device that was beyond my comprehension, such as your machine, then I think that I might easily conclude it had been made by a sorcerer who could be more powerful than I." He nodded to himself. "And if that were the case, then I would have to wonder why I didn't know about him. The obvious answer would be that he wasn't a member of the guild. But why wasn't he a member of the guild? It is against the law for anyone to practice sorcery unless he is a certified member of the guild. So... whoever this sorcerer might be, he's apparently not afraid of the law."
"But Doc didn't know about the law," said Rachel. "He isn't from this world."
"Yes, but if I'm Warrick, I don't know that, do I?" Brian said. "And a sorcerer who's not afraid of the law probably has enough power to set himself above it. If I were Warrick, I'd find that very disturbing, I should think. So whatever I decide to do, I'm certainly not going to be hasty."
"Good point," said Rachel. "But you'd have to do something."
"True, and so far, we know that Warrick has placed a bounty on Doc," said Brian, "and sent Mac and others like him out to find him. That mercenary, Black Jack, was one such. Well, Mac has not returned, but if I were Warrick, I would not know why. As a wizard of considerable power and repute, I would certainly be adept at the art of scrying with a crystal ball, but the question is, would I risk it in this case? It could mean opening an astral channel through which a more powerful adept could strike back at me. Doc would not be able to do that, of course, but if I'm Warrick, I have no way of knowing that. I think I would err on the side of caution, at least until I knew more. I would probably assume that Mac had found Doc and that Doc had defeated him, or else suborned him to his will."
"What about Black Jack?" asked Rachel.
"Good question. If we assume he made his way back to Warrick, then that means Warrick certainly knows who Doc is, and where he is. So, if I were Warrick, what would I do with that information?" Brian paused to think a moment. "I'd know that Doc was in Brigand's Roost, and by now I'd know that Brigand's Roost is a town in the Kingdom of Darn that is growing by leaps and bounds, and producing marvelous products said to be the result of sorcerous handiwork. So clearly, my rival is not making any attempt to hide. Quite the opposite. It would seem almost as though he were taunting me, daring me and the rest of the guild to do something about him."
"It would?" said Brewster, uneasily.
"Oh, aye, I think it would, indeed," said Brian as he paced back and forth across the parapet. "That would make me very angry. Furious, in fact. But I'm not the Grand Director of the Guild for nothing. I am not a fool. I have worked long and hard to gain my present position. I did not succeed by acting rashly. Someone who so openly defies the guild ... defies me ... must be a very powerful adept, indeed. I would need to learn more about him before I attempted to take him on. I would need to be very cautious and discover if he has any weak points, and if so, what are they? I would need to plan my course of action very carefully, because this is a conflict I could not afford to lose. Every day, I see that time machine in my sanctorum, and I know that I cannot divine how it was made, nor even how to operate it properly. Perhaps I am even a little afraid of it. And it daily serves to remind me that I am facing the most powerful adept I have ever encountered. So ... how would I proceed?"
Brian stopped his pacing.
"I would send spies to Brigand's Roost," he said, nodding to himself. "And at the same time, I would prepare for war."
"War?" said Brewster, with alarm.
. "It would seem the perfect solution. I would go to King Billy and tell him that Brigand's Roost is stealing our citizens and our trade. I would tell him that they prosper at our expense. There have been riots in the city and revolution is in the air. Our treasury is being depleted. Our tax base is being undermined. Something must be done. And what better way to unite a kingdom in a common cause than war? Take all the anger and frustration our subjects are feeling and redirect them at the outlaw
sorcerer in Brigand's Roost He is to blame for everything. Aye, if I were Warrick, I think that is exactly what I'd do. Why risk taking on a powerful sorcerer all by myself when I can do it with an army?"
"You know, I hate to admit it," Rachel said, "but that makes sense."
"You really think that's what he'll do?" asked Brewster with concern.
"It would certainly explain why he has not moved against us yet," said Brian. "He has probably been making preparations, and waiting 'til the time is right. For all we know, he has already planted spies among us. They would blend easily with all the new arrivals coming in. Doubtless, he has also been seeking support from the other wizards in the guild, and that would take some time. They all tend to look after their own interests first. A threat to Warrick would not concern them overmuch, but if there was a threat to all of them, then that would be another matter."
"But I'm not threatening anyone," Brewster protested.
"I fear 'tis not how they would see it," Brian replied. "A powerful sorcerer who practices his craft in open defiance of the guild? I think I would certainly consider that a threat. To say nothing of the fact that you are producing nickallirium."
"I am?" said Brewster with a frown. "What's nickallirium?"
"The substance that you call aluminum," said Brian. "The secret of its manufacture is jealously guarded by the guild, because 'tis the most precious metal in the twenty-seven kingdoms. All the world's coinage is minted from it"
"Good Lord!" said Brewster, aghast. "Why didn't anybody tell me?"
"We thought you knew," said Rachel.
"I never even had a clue!" said Brewster. "You mean to tell me that all this time we've been producing aluminum, or nickallirum, and devaluing the currency?"
"I don't understand," said Rachel with a frown. "What do you mean, devaluing the currency?"
" 'Tis simple," Brian said. "Doc taught Mick to make nickallirium for use in the manufacture of the Many-Bladed Knives. Each knife goes out to market with handles made of nickallirium. Harlan and his sales force will only accept coins of nickallirium for the purchase of the knives. No barter. Since we can manufacture nickallirium, the knives can be priced very attractively, and the purchasers are getting not only a useful tool, but a valuable commodity, as well. Craftsmen in the other kingdoms, such as jewelers and armorers who make precious ornaments of nickallirium, are unable to compete. The knives are worth more than the goods that they produce, yet they are priced more cheaply. And as the demand for the knives increases, more coinage flows into Brigand's Roost. Since we do not import any goods from any of the other kingdoms, that coinage remains here, which means there is an imbalance of trade. People follow the money. Our population increases, more craftsmen come to Brigand's Roost, jewelers and the like, and they can purchase nickallirium from us more cheaply than they could back in their own kingdoms, where the available supply was limited and the price reflected that accordingly. So, since they can buy it from us more cheaply, they produce more ornaments of nickallirium here than they ever could back where they came from. All these goods are exported, and since they bought the raw material more cheaply, they can also price their goods more cheaply, thereby undercutting the craftsmen in all the other kingdoms. This means the demand for our products increases even more, while the demand for local products in the other kingdoms continues to decrease, because they cannot compete. And still more coinage flows into Brigand's Roost."
Rachel frowned. "But will this not eventually create a shortage of coins?"
"Indeed, it will," said Brian. "And the treasurers of the guild will have no choice but to mint more. However, that will not change the fact that the other kingdoms cannot compete with us on the price of goods made from nickallirium. To keep the worth of nickallirium high, they must control the available quantity. But so long as we keep on making more, they cannot control it. The more we make, the less theirs is worth. And they cannot simply keep on minting more coinss, because the more coins they mint, the more they devalue their worth. Meanwhile, the flow of coinage into Brigand's Roost continues. We get richer; they get poorer. And if it goes on long enough, their economies will simply collapse. So I would say the guild would certainly regard Doc as a significant threat. They will regard all of us as a threat. Aye, war seems a very likely possibility."
Brewster swallowed nervously. "This is terrible. I never even considered anything like this." He shook his head. "I only wanted to help people, but instead I'm destroying the balance of trade and bringing about a recession in all the kingdoms we do business with. Why didn't anybody tell me about this?"
"You never asked," said Brian with a shrug. "You mean to say you've never even seen a coin?"
Brewster frowned. "Now that I think of it, I guess I haven't. I've never really paid too much attention to such things. No one has ever asked me to pay for anything." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I had no idea. Well, we'll simply have to stop making aluminum, that's all."
"At this point, I don't know if you can," said Brian. "Things have changed too much. Brigand's Roost is well on its way to becoming a thriving city. The brigands are actually working for a living and enjoying it. They're all becoming wealthy and even starting to dress like gentlemen. And what about all the people who have come here to make new lives for themselves? No one here will give up what they have, what you have given them. There is probably more wealth in Brigand's Roost now than in all the other towns and cities of this kingdom combined. And one way or another, sooner or later, someone's going to try and take it."
"But if Warrick convinced King Billy to send an army against us, then wouldn't that be an act of war against the entire kingdom?" Rachel said.
"Oh, I doubt that would concern Warrick very much," said Brian. "King Durwin could never match his resources against those of Pitt. Of course, if we had our own army, then Durwin might grant us his support, but I wouldn't count on that too much."
"Why not?" asked Brewster.
"Darn is a poor little kingdom," Brian replied. "And if Warrick gains the complete support of his guild, then he would effectively have the support of all the other kingdoms. ~ Of course, he may not get their complete support, but even if he only musters partial backing, those are still odds King Durwin would be foolish to confront. The smart thing for him to do would be to wait it out and see what happens, then throw in with whichever side seems strongest."
"What can we do?" asked Brewster with chagrin.
"Make ready to defend ourselves," said Brian. " 'Twould seem the prudent course."
Brewster sat down on a bench and put his head in his hands. "What have I done?" he said miserably. "This wasn't what I intended at all. I only wanted to help people."
"But you have," said Rachel. "They owe you a great deal. You've given them knowledge, but they're the ones who have put it to work and they owe it to themselves to fight for what they have achieved, if it should come to that."
"It should not prove difficult to raise an army for defense," said Brian. "There is no shortage of mercenaries seeking employment, and it would provide an occupation for many of the people coming in."
"And you already have an air force," the dragon said, thumping his chest with a massive claw.
"You mean you'd help?" said Brewster.
"Of course," said Rory. "What are friends for? Besides, life has been singularly uneventful lately. I haven't burned down a village in years. Terrorizing an army would be ever so much more entertaining."
Brewster swallowed nervously. "I don't think 'entertaining' is a word I'd use in that context." He bit his lower lip. "Surely, there has to be a way to avoid violence."
"Peace through superior strength is what my father always used to say," said Brian.
Brewster shook his head. "I need to think," he said. "I'm the one who got us into this mess. It'll be my responsibility to think of a way to get us out."
"It's too bad you're not a real sorcerer," said Brian. "Of course, we're the only ones who know that. That could be a ma
rked advantage."
"Only until someone calls my bluff," said Brewster glumly.
"You were going to have to face Warrick sooner or later," Brian said. "I must admit, it will be interesting to see what happens when science goes up against magic. But don't worry Doc, we'll be with you every step of the way!" Brian's remark was punctuated with a clang as the moon went down and he turned back into a chamberpot, clattering down onto the flagstones of the parapet. "Oh, bollocks!"
"A phony wizard, a vampire elf, an existential dragon, and a talking chamberpot," said Brewster wryly. "How can we lose?"
Meanwhile, somewhere in Pennsylvania:
"Hightower! You crazy son of a bitch! What in God's name are you up to?"
Colin winced and held the receiver away from his ear, waiting until his editor stopped screaming. "Jack, calm down, for Christ's sake," he said, when the torrent of invective ceased.
"Calm down? Are you kidding me? I just got through talking with the Pittsburgh police, for crying out loud. The phone's been ringing off the hook ever since we ran your story. They tell me you broke that girl out of the sanitarium at gunpoint!"
"Jack, will you listen to me? You know perfectly well I wouldn't have the faintest idea how to use a gun. Guns frighten me. I've been terrified of them ever since that maniac, Thompson, almost blew my head off with that cannon of his. I didn't break anybody out of anywhere."
"Hightower, goddamn it, you'd better start telling me the truth and you'd better talk fast!"
"Okay, okay, just calm down, will you? Look, this is exactly how it happened. I bribed an orderly to get me a copy of the girl's file and sneak me in there to interview her. When he was letting me back out of her room, she bolted out the door and went down in the elevator. He thought she went down to the lobby, but she went to the parking level, where she jumped into my car, stark naked, and made me drive her out of there."
"Made you? How?"
"Jack... she was naked. Think about it."
