Analog SFF, May 2011

by Dell Magazine Authors

  "Got a plan.” Sort of, he didn't say out loud.

  The space suggested a giant widow's watch, thickly windowed on all sides and almost completely open. Knowing that Royals visited Laoyu, and remembering the Queen's aversion to municipal water, Erik assumed this fortress, like Chokorgon, had a rooftop rain-collector. Such collectors need periodic cleaning, which implied a ladder. . . .

  He spotted it. Pointing to the far wall, he put an arm around Liana to help her run even though he needed assistance himself. “Roof,” was all he had breath enough to say. She rolled her eyes but kept going.

  By the time they'd reached the ladder, Erik's legs had regained some spring and he'd stopped panting. After the long climb, moving on the horizontal had almost felt like running downhill. His escape notion, he thought, might be practical after all.

  Seconds later, they stood on the immense flat roof. The moon had fully risen. Erik gently but swiftly closed the trapdoor they'd come through.

  He glanced at Liana. “West edge, fast."

  She nodded and they sprinted west. But when they were gazing down at a moonlit moat that appeared small from this height, she grabbed his arm.

  "You don't expect us to climb down?"

  "Not us. You cling to me, and I'll climb. Gotten good at it and my tails will help. They can stretch."

  Her eyes grew huge. “You plan on using them to . . . abseil over a hundred meters?"

  "'Course not, but the wall has grooves and—Shiva! The trapdoor's opening! Quick, jump on my back."

  She hurried, nestling against him with her arms under his, her hands reaching back to grip his shoulders, and her legs around his waist. Erik found his balance, turned to begin the descent, and saw three guards running toward him, handguns drawn. The specific ammunition made little difference. The wardens’ faces told him they intended to kill, not capture.

  On the wall, he'd be an easy target. So he abandoned climbing and jumped backwards off the roof. Liana only made a small, choked sound. They'd land in water, but be falling so fast by then it would be like hitting stone. Erik felt briefly resentful that the Queen was likely asleep in her comfy gravity glitch when such a thing, more conveniently placed, might save them.

  For him, reality flipped to dreamy slow motion. His life forgot to pass before his eyes, which he appreciated since the replay would've blocked his view of the vista spread beneath them. He could see the entire level west of Laoyu, distinguish the purple and gold heraldry lights of Chokorgon Castle, and even pick out the humbler turquoise and white lights on Bateson House, where his Kin barons lived. It all looked gorgeous and precious.

  Then his tail segments snapped out, stretching and unfurling into flat sheets. He yelped from a tug on his lower back that nearly pulled the skin off. Now, everything seemed accelerated. As the wall flashed past, air pressure twisted the tail-sheets into uselessness until they wove themselves into a structure stable enough to catch the wind. Suddenly, Erik hung straight down, suspended from a large kite made from his own flesh. He clamped down on Liana's arms with his own to help hold her in place as she tightened her legs so much that he suspected normal ribs would break.

  Despite blood rushing to his head, he knew they were gliding down at an angle and already well past the forest edge.

  "Hang on tight,” he cried although she could see the situation for herself. “Trouble ahead."

  Just before they hit the treetop, Erik's tails unwove themselves fast enough to act as bumpers. This didn't prevent the crash, but at least when Erik's skull slammed into a thick branch, his brain stayed inside. Then he and Liana fell, upright again, with the tails catching branches and slowing them all the way down.

  They landed so softly Erik didn't even stumble. “How in hell,” he asked her, “did you hold on through all that?"

  Her eyes sparkled with more than moonlight. "That's what surprised you?” She laughed. “I can't believe we're alive. Someday soon, I'd like to marry your tails. But to answer you, the change made me strong."

  They both turned toward a rustling sound. Disy shambled toward them in his spider configuration; Paat, mounted on the urz, followed. Obeying their gestures, Liana climbed onto Disy while Erik vaulted up to join Paat, chagrined that he and Liana hadn't thought to speak softly.

  "Where's Gregor?” Liana whispered.

  Paat whispered back. “Fulfilling his castle duties. Wouldn't do for him to lose his strategic emplacement or arouse suspicions. No more talking, please, until we're secure."

  * * * *

  Back in Paat's secret lair, Liana explained her capture. Two janissaries had evidently snuck away for a private tryst and Liana, focused elsewhere, had practically stepped on them.

  "An awkward surprise,” she concluded, “for all parties."

  Erik then described the changelings he'd seen in the fortress. Clearly, no one enjoyed this, but Paat appeared particularly distressed.

  "This manifests everything I'd feared,” she said when Erik had finished. “According to Gregor's sources, those victims in the central cages had been placed there recently and their transformations occurred within hours. Thus, Erik saw the results of final testing for the Queen's first invasions. It seems he and Liana were to be pioneer changelings for the next round."

  "Terrific,” Erik snapped. “Did my spying tell you which lucky levels are in immediate danger?"

  "Indeed. And in her deluded eyes, she's chosen wisely; none of the three have the resources to withstand intelligently armed invaders. And I have alarming news.” The Gelpie hesitated. “I am reluctant to share this for security reasons, but Gregor can speak with us from the castle by resetting his janissary communicator's frequency. Quite risky."

  "Risky?” Liana asked, her face so uncharacteristically anxious that Erik finally appreciated how important Gregor was to her. While his own close relatives, after much grieving, had gradually divorced themselves emotionally from him, Paat's little conspiracy had allowed Liana to keep this one connection with her Kin. Not long ago, Erik would've given his right arm for such support. . . .

  "Multiple risks,” Paat responded. “While conversing with us, he could miss incoming—"

  "We am more concerned,” Disy interrupted, “with this alarm-worthy news. Have yous told we about it already?"

  "I've not had time, S'git. Gregor reports that the Queen's accelerated her timetable. Selected wardens and janissaries will receive change injections tomorrow at noon. Since a wholesale transformation of military personnel will quickly become known to the populace, the Royals intend to formally declare war on the target levels—with some fallacious justification—while instituting marshal law here. The final blow is that Gregor has been one of those selected."

  Liana's expression said everything.

  "What can we do?” Erik asked.

  "It appears we have acted too late. I am truly sorry. If you appreciate irony, we have a probable solution to this crisis, yet no way to use it."

  "What do you mean?"

  Paat intertwined the parts of one hand in a gesture that presumably meant something to Gelpies. “Long before I enlisted Gregor, I worked similarly with an agent named Emile Newton."

  "Newton Kin."

  "Just so. Before he was executed, he told me where these were buried.” She used the intertwined hand to point at the rusty canisters Erik had noticed on his previous visit. “Recently, I dug them up and brought them here."

  "What's in them?"

  "A teratogen intended to reverse the artificial cellular longevity of your Royals. The Newtons developed it when the Royals turned against them, intending to add it to the public water supply—it would harm only Coris. However, the Queen learned of this plot. That's when the Royals began drinking only rainwater, and the teratogen was never deployed."

  Liana stared at the tanks. “Even if the Queen stopped being immortal, how would that solve our problems?"

  "I said ‘reverse’ their longevity, not neutralize it. The effects could be devastating."

  Erik saw
hope blossom in Liana's eyes and couldn't bear for it to wither. “Then let's sneak some into the castle water supply."

  "The Queen instituted security measures to prevent any such contamination. The only way to poison Chokorgon would be through the castle's rain-collector, which is continually guarded by authorized teams of janissaries. Even Gregor would be shot on sight."

  Erik tried again. “We have a few hours of darkness left?"

  "Three."

  "What if you poured poison from up so high that those janissaries couldn't see you? You know, mix it in with the pre-dawn shower?"

  "Interesting, but your idea presents dual obstacles. First, I have vowed to forego direct violent actions. Please hear me out. Gelpies take vows most seriously; still, I would break mine if the consequences weren't so dire."

  "What consequences?” Liana demanded.

  Paat shifted her gaze between Liana and Erik. “My biochemistry is monitored through a device implanted to assess my health, and betraying my vows would trigger telltale hormones. Captains would investigate. Have I ever insinuated that they are soft?"

  "Tell thems,” Disy insisted, “the true stakes."

  Paat obliged. “While we agents are limited in our dealings with locals, the Captains themselves will act to protect the Tower's purpose should anything threaten it. The Queen's plans pose such a threat."

  The humans traded glances before Erik asked, “What will they do?"

  "On the few occasions when a level has been declared criminal, it has been . . . eliminated. The Queen's supposed mentor must intend your destruction. Due to the Tower's unique nature, no level can thrive isolated, nor can its people be moved to somewhere safe. It is kinder to destroy it quickly than let its inhabitants die slowly. You see? I cannot poison the Royals."

  Erik, hyper-vigilant from fear, picked up on the nuance. “But Liana or I could?"

  "That brings us to the second obstacle. We have no way to lift you high enough to contaminate the rain."

  "Well, your urz flies, right? Couldn't it carry me above the clouds?"

  Paat stared at Erik with unusual intensity. “That machine contains a gravity-neutralizing system, true, but its horizontal propulsion is effectuated through electrostatic brushes under its hooves. Thousands of charged—"

  "The urz can only go up or down unless it's on the ground?"

  "Just so. You could ride it high enough for ceiling gravity to take precedence and float down to your sky, but we can't get you directly over Chokorgon castle while in midair."

  "So? The urz could carry me across the ceiling until I get to the right spot."

  "Its brushes won't function on that surface. You could, with some effort, walk to the correct location toting a canister. But pouring out a liquid on the ceiling would only dampen your feet. Gravity resumes the direction to which you are accustomed about two hundred meters up from the ceiling. Even should you climb aboard your moon, you would gain insufficient height."

  Erik gazed into Paat's eyes and saw . . . expectation. “Can you alter our gravity?” he asked quietly.

  "Not without causing disaster. Each level's gravity manifests at right angles to a force humans haven't yet identified. Machines generate this force as long . . . fibers spiraling clockwise to produce the desired attractions. From our present perspective, they spiral counterclockwise near your sky. If we—"

  "Wait! ‘Fibers’ made me think of hair. Comb it in a circle, and you'll always wind up with a bald spot."

  Paat's eyes brightened. “Your point?"

  "You can relocate the bald spot by changing how you comb."

  "Do continue."

  "This level has a gravity quirk."

  "A consequence from this method of producing artificial weight. I understand your ruler sleeps within the anomaly. You wonder if it could be relocated without disturbing anyone save, possibly, the Queen?"

  "Moved and strengthened."

  "Indeed. An excellent suggestion!” Paat turned toward Liana. “To insulate my vow, I will instruct you in the necessary techniques."

  * * * *

  Been through some craziness lately, Erik thought while regarding a heaven filled with upside-down trees, lakes, and occasional rooftops; but this takes the cake and the plate it sits on. From here, on the sky, the castle appeared surprisingly close. Too bad it wasn't directly overhead.

  His simple notion of using the anomaly to seed this morning's rain with Newton revenge proved a maze of complications. Paat and Disy had spent a good hour cutting a workable plan and training Liana in the fine art of anomaly manipulation. The urz had gotten Erik near the Castle in ten minutes, but floating up nearly four kilometers, flipping at the gravity crossover, and drifting down to the sky had taken far longer. Dawn was already sending out hints.

  The flight had been silent and oddly uneventful. Although Erik's ears had popped once, his breathing never became labored and he'd never felt too hot or cold. Everyone knew that Weather Control operators, using technology they didn't understand, programmed atmospheric conditions, but he found this divorce of temperature and air-pressure from height . . . unsettling.

  The celestial plain under Erik's feet was flat, smooth, and pitch black except for slow-moving, twinkling lights that seemed projected from beneath. The urz could travel here, at a snail's most casual speed.

  In her hideaway, Paat had activated a device for indirectly manipulating the gravity quirk and a monitor for accurately tracking its position. Still, Liana had no way to track Erik, and from so far away, he couldn't gauge his position relative to the castle with sufficient precision. So Disy suggested a rendezvous point: the moon's exact center, which Paat would periodically illuminate with a narrow-beam laser. Meanwhile, Disy would temporarily reroute the moon to line up with the Castle exactly when the predawn rain was due. Timing and precision would be everything.

  Erik had foolishly assumed that Liana had drawn the plan's short straw. Now he understood why Paat had said lugging the canister would require “some effort.” Stronger gravity. Erik's weight had doubled and the canister's likewise. And he hadn't expected the sky would be warm and humid. The moon was close and kept drifting closer, but Erik was exhausted and sweat-drenched by the time he reached it.

  He didn't dare rest, but a strong breeze cooled him, emanating from beneath the great self-illuminated disk floating less than a meter above the sky. He couldn't see anything propelling the moon, but he noticed a wide metal strip running along the bottom of the lunar edge.

  Antigravity and some kind of airfoil, he thought. Forget it for now.

  Drawing on the last reserves of his strength, he stood, jerking the canister to chest level. He pushed it onto the moon, found some miniature craters to use as handholds and tailholds, and shimmied onto the rough surface himself. The faux satellite seemed unexpectedly cramped although he'd known it had a mere 35-meter diameter, supposedly duplicating the arc degree of Luna as seen from Earth. Maybe the proper scale was engraved in his genes. But the place was bright enough. He had to watch his footing through slitted eyes as he hoisted the container and headed toward the disk's center. The toy craters and mountains were big enough to trip him, forcing him to take an annoyingly circuitous route.

  He glanced up and was relieved to see no clouds forming. He'd made it in time. But how in hell, he wondered, can I spot a laser dot in this blaze?

  A minute later, the issue was settled when he felt extra warmth on his left hand. When he glanced down, the hand appeared to be on fire. He stepped back and stared down at a red bulls-eye pattern so actinic it made the moon appear dull. It winked out and he shut his eyes to let the afterimages fade. When Paat had mentioned a laser pointer, Erik had remembered those used in schoolrooms. A human-built laser this intense would've vaporized his hand.

  This was a dangerous moment for him. After moving the gravity anomaly away from Chokorgon, Liana, under Paat's tutelage, had strengthened it and folded its boundaries to create a container. If Liana misjudged distance, the quirk could grab Erik wi
th, most likely, fatal results. He cracked one eye open long enough to plant himself where the bulls-eye had been. Working by feel alone, he unsealed the canister, set it down, and waited.

  A faint updraft alerted him the moment had come. He lifted the tank as high as he could and opened his eyes in time to witness miracles. Overhead, clouds boiled into existence while lightning bolts wiggled through them, followed by thunderclaps muted according to the Queen's standing orders. Then his hair floated and the moon seemed to spin around him. Although the cylinder now weighed less than nothing, when he tried shaking it, only droplets levitated out. Paat had warned him that a spill-proof lip would keep the toxin inside if the tank and its contents were equally weightless.

  The quirk's a hair low, he thought, although he was stunned that Liana could be even this accurate. He lowered his non-burden, squatted, and his vertigo disappeared. Also he nearly dropped the canister on his toes as it instantly regained poundage. Grunting, he raised it slowly. At the height where its solid base retained weight but the toxin didn't, the anti-spill feature encouraged capillary action. Liquid flowed upward from the opening in a thick stream, glowing like a quicksilver snake in the direct moonlight, coiling within the anomaly. Finally, the coil rose away from Erik until it vanished into the clouds, joining the rain already gently bathing Chokorgon. No drops fell the other way, but when he looked down, dew covered the moon.

  Liana intended to return the anomaly to the Royal boudoir. Ideally, the Queen had slept through its absence, but even if she'd noticed her abrupt weight gain, how could she associate that with a poisoning attempt?

  Back to the urz, he thought. Better lug this damn tank along; someone could spot it with a scope. He felt much lighter as he started back, and not only because the cylinder was empty. But one worry seemed heavier. The toxin might fail or work too slowly to save the level.

  * * * *

  Back in their getaway, Liana, Disy, Erik, and Paat waited for word from Gregor while staring at the big chronometer Paat had evoked on one wall. If Erik had been a nail-biter, he would've bitten them down to the wrist by midmorning. He'd been too busy to brood over the imminent danger. Now, he thought about nothing else.