Crossworld of Xai

by Steven Savage

  Except, of course, for your boss being angry. There was something universally terrifying about an angry overseer on a rampage. Solomon Dell was currently invoking that old primate fear of the angry alpha male quite effectively.

  Dell walked through the gray-walled corridors of Rancelmen Headquarters, heading for his office, his fellows giving him a wide berth. He stopped halfway to his destination, stepped into the lunchroom, and returned with a message board under one arm. He continued to his office, pausing only to dump the offending item in a trashbin.

  Miriam was waiting for him, half-in-uniform as she often was when she was about to go off-duty and hoped there wasn’t an emergency. Her reaction to his foul mood was calm. Dell couldn’t surprise her any more, not after the years they’d worked together.

  “How’d it …”

  “As expected. Sort of.” Dell dropped into his chair, its springs protesting his armored weight. He stared into space for a moment, then looked back at Miriam. She held an envelope in her hands.

  “From …”

  “HuanJen.”

  The Head Rancelman snatched the envelope and tore it open in a final gesture. He held up the single letter inside and read aloud.

  “Mr. Dell. I should note that my recent new duties do not change my plans about the Rancelmen. I wrote this in case you assumed my focus changed, as I didn’t wish this to lead to any confusion on your part. By the time you receive this I am sure you will have had a civil talk with me. I would like to state that I am not interested at this time. Thank you.”

  Miriam blinked. “He …”

  “Knew.” Dell looked at the postmark of the Messengers Guild. “He knew two days ago. He read me like a book. Do you understand now, Miriam? Keep those you don’t understand close.”

  “I’m getting an idea. Hey, you … angry?”

  “I … no.” Dell stared into space, eyes focusing on his own thoughts. “Not at him, just at myself.”

  “Really?” Miriam’s mind raced as she tried to figure out what was going on in her boss’s mind.

  “Yes, really. Have you ever met someone who made you feel like you should somehow ‘know better.’”

  “Sure. They piss me off.”

  “Then you get some idea of how I feel …”

  “Wow, you can be a real asshole at times, dear.”

  Jade lay draped across the living room couch, and more importantly, across HuanJen’s lap. The cleric’s long hands were expertly massaging her neck and spine. It wasn’t so much that Jade required the attention for medical reasons, but that her mentor and lover was quick with the massages and she wasn’t going to complain.

  “It seemed the best way.” HuanJen sighed. “The man’s not bad …”

  “Matter of opinion. He’s an annoying dickweed.”

  “… . anyway. I hope I made the point, or more likely, left him wondering. Hopefully he’ll think before talking to me again.”

  Jade purred as her lover’s hands found the sensitive spots by her white-furred ears. “Did you tell him ‘now you have met me, now you have met a dragon’ or some Taoist take-down line?”

  “That would have been inappropriate. And before you say anything, don’t”

  “Damn.” The Vulpine snapped her fingers. “I wish you’d taken me with you.”

  “This was for me to deal with. I rather think he knows you are implacable and vocal about it.”

  “Heard-headed and bitchy you mean?” Jade asked with loving cynicism.

  HuanJen pinched his lover’s nose playfully. “Perhaps. I have not said yes as I will not, nor a direct no as it will make me an enemy if politics get bad. Instead, I will let him think … and we shall see.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Rake.” Both said at once.

  “Early for the party.” Jade sighed.

  HuanJen flowed from beneath Jade, like black quicksilver righting itself into the form of a man. He opened the door quickly, and looked down at the stocky figure of Rake, Minister of the Church of Christ the Worker. The only difference between Rake and a square was largely academic.

  “Ah, glad to see I’m not too early. Brought, ah, food, of course!” Rake hefted two large bags, a smile largely visible from within a cloud of dusty-colored hair.

  “Glad to see you brother.” HuanJen embraced the man affectionately. “I’m looking forward to this.”

  “As am I.” Jade rose to greet the fellow cleric. “It’s been a busy holiday season.”

  “Tell me.” Rake rolled his eyes, ambling over to the kitchen and dropping his burden on the table, which squeaked ominously. “Food court barely, ah, taken care of, had to add an, ah, extra service. And you?”

  “Solomon Dell.” Jade answered before HuanJen could.

  “Oh.” Rake appeared uncomfortable. “Ah, yes. Well, any … ah, I guess not. Well, I ah, heard Verrigent is coming over, and even Dealer, ah, Zero …”

  January 1, 2000 Xaian Standard Calendar

  Night fell over Metris.

  The midnight hour approached.

  Focus in on a small apartment, a gathering of people no different than any other.

  A calm voice spoke, words not so much breaking the silence as draining it away.

  “To all of us. And I think Jade, our newest addition to our family … and my life … has a toast.”

  “Yes. To all of you, and to this place. To all we have together. Though it may change, the cause of change endures. Though things die, they never end… “

  It’s Xai. It continues.

  MANFIESTATIONS

  January 2nd, 2000, Xaian Standard Calendar

  Temple Street, home of Guild Esoteric, gateway to mystery.

  Temple Street, spiritual center of Metris, and by default of the world, being located in the capital city, of the frontier-Earth of Xai.

  Temple Street, where the spiritual searches of a thousand alternate Earths reaches back into the distant past …

  “Huan, I don’t care what you want to call it, it’s a beeper.”

  … and the present, which is less mysterious, since its occurring now. In many cases, quite loudly.

  A tall Chinese man with a streak of white in his dark hair strode down the street, moving soundlessly despite his casual gait. With him was a female vulpine, dark-furred and dark-haired, with white-furred hands and ears. They made an exotic couple, a human and one of the genetically engineered human variants, though they were engaged in a rather unexotic activity; arguing.

  “It’s not technically a beeper, Jade.” The man was gently exasperated. The focus of his attention was not so much on his companion, but a small black box he held in a long-fingered hand.

  “It’s a beeper, HuanJen, pure and simple,” Jade sighed, and drew a similar device from a pouch on her belt. Both of them wore dark, serviceable clothes, the various pockets and pouches identifying them as likely members of Guild Esoteric, Guild of clerics and mystics.

  “Jade, the process is different, they’re designed to reach each other so we know a fellow specialist or Zone Cleric has an emergency. It’s based on radio networking, so it functions in a radius, not directly.” HuanJen paused. “OK, it’s a beeper in principle but … “

  “Not in functionality.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And I’m the apprentice in the relationship?” Jade smirked.

  “Who’s the one that does the exorcisms, love?”

  The two walked through the crowd, which seemed to part for them instinctively. On the Street of the Holy, the pair seemed at home, two fish in water - even visitors to the street or to Xai itself could tell they belonged. Unlike the Historians or the Gendarmens or the Technologists, the members of Guild Esoteric had no true uniform, but one could somehow tell membership.

  “Well, at least they don’t have some cutesy name, ” Jade began, “I …”

  “Turn it over,” the mystic instructed calmly.

  His apprentice did so, then stopped walking for a moment. She blinked her green, n
amesake eyes. “Clericall? The Technologists named this Clericall? What the hell were they smoking? Clericall?”

  “Yes,” HuanJen answered sadly as the two began walking again. “Not very imaginative, I’m afraid.”

  “Jesus,” Jade said, getting a few curious looks from passers-by. “We desperately need a Business Consultants Guild. Ah well, if they’re going to kiss up to us Esotericists …”

  “… or in their words, ‘provide low-cost support to those who help maintain social order’ …”

  ” … this is at least somewhat honest.” Jade concluded. “Lemme guess, they’re expecting things to get weird on the supernatural front too?”

  HuanJen turned thoughtful for a moment, though in his case saying he became thoughtful was like saying a river was somewhat flowing. The air, the light, seemed to bend around him for one timeless second.

  “It’s a political time.” The mystic answered carefully, the complexities of Xaian government spinning through his head. “It is a question of how much, not if, dear. Worried?”

  “eh …” Jade shrugged, then suddenly embraced her companion. “Nah, I’ve got you right?”

  “That you do …” HuanJen kissed his companion on her furry cheek, put an arm around her shoulders, and the two walked into the crowd.

  “Damn.”

  One of the various passerbys, looked up. A tall, stately, older gentleman in a gray coat leaned against the doorframe of his shop. A simple gold sign, “X Libris” swayed in the mild January wind.

  “Yes?” asked the visitor politely.

  “Those two,” the shopkeeper answered, puffing on a pipe. “Nice to see so many traditions don’t require celibacy. Caught them in the back stacks a week ago, kissing.”

  “A bit, unrestrained?” The passerby fidgeted. People in Metris were remarkably social, which was surprising to many visitors. The natives, especially, could be disturbingly friendly and civil at the worst times.

  “A bit …”

  The Food Court of Temple Street was many things.

  It was the result of careful negotiations with local neighborhoods.

  It was the centerpiece of making Guild Esoteric’s home ground open, friendly, and accessible to the public and to visitors and immigrants.

  It was, finally, a very lucrative project for members of the Constructionists Guild. “Donated” had labor proved ineffective and in the case of an unpleasant incident involving wiring, painful. Some things had to be left to experts, and anything involving the Powersmiths Guild fell into that category.

  Despite peoples best intentions, it had finally come into being after several months; a collection of restaurants and parklike areas for visitors, shopkeepers, customers, and mystics. A place to eat and to speculate on ones visits to the churches and temples and shops. Guild Esoteric tried to provide as many human needs as possible, but it helped to attract humans in the first place.

  Among the various restaurants and mobile stands stood a particularly busy establishment, a large, high-ceilinged place bearing the sign “Tradewinds.” Like some of the buildings it had obviously been remodeled from another establishment, though the customers entering and leaving didn’t seem to worry about the appearances. And among the customers …

  … you got all types on Xai, in Metris, and on Temple Street.

  A more odd-than-usual trio looked through the large windows of the Tradewinds. One was a short, red-furred Vulpine woman dressed in an eclectic style. The second was a gene-normal human female, wearing jeans and the top part of a Guild Medical nurses uniform, her dark hair cut short. The third of the odd trio was a large, muscular man with blond hair in a thick ponytail.. Neither of the three looked particularly happy.

  “There they are,” Tte vulpine sighed. “Damn trolley system.”

  “It’s just one of those days, Garnet,” the large man commented, patting her on the shoulder in a friendly manner, “Huan and Jade saved us seats, it appears, lets go. Clairice?”

  “For the Tradewinds? Always” The other woman, the nurse, smiled. “Lorne, lead the way - since folks usually stay out of your way.”

  “Ah. Using me for my body again …”

  “Hey you’re a Gendarme, think of it as crowd control.” Clairice pushed the policeman forward.

  The three moved through the crowd and into the restaurant, pausing only pass some guilders to the host after assuring they had a seat. The Tradewinds was popular because it provided something very important in Metris; quick meals that were palatable. The restaurant served one thing; stir-fry. You picked your own ingredients and sauces from a buffet the cooks fried it up in front of you, and you went back to your table. One fee covered as much as you could eat, as long as you could find space.

  Or, if you happened to have some friends who arrived before the lunch rush, just sit and eat. On some days it was preferable to have your friends sleep over. The Tradewinds had a following before it moved to Temple Street, and had now been discovered by visitors and immigrants as well.

  “Lorne, Garnet, Clairice!” HuanJen turned around as soon as the trio was a few meters away, waving at them. Clairice started at the unexpected attention. Garnet shook her head; Clairice had known the magician-priest for years, dated him for a few confused months, and still seemed startled at his unusual intuitions.

  “We figured you’d want us to hold a seat,” Jade commented, poking at her bowl. “Then we got hungry, and …”

  “No problem.” Garnet shook her head as she and her friends walked up to the table. “Trolley problems again. Clairice, Lorne, you wanna grab some food?”

  The huge Gendarme’s stomach made a sound normally associated with geological activity, and he promptly blushed.. Clairice nodded, “Yeah, I think we’re confirmed.”

  “Thank you, Clairice,” Lorne commented with mock-weariness. His companion replied with a playful slap of his stomach.

  The three made their way to the collection of meats, vegetables, and sauces. Garnet prepared her meal, eyes distant, not paying attention to her friends until they’d delivered their choices to the fry cooks.

  “Garnet, you … don’t quite seem yourself,” Lorne asked politely.

  “Eh, just noticing …” The petite vulpine’s round face collapsed into an expression of concern and confusion. “Do HuanJen and Jade seem different to you?”

  “Er …” Lorne nodded uncomfortably. “Well, I’ve been …”

  “We’ve both been.” Clairice leaned against the counter that cut the cooks off from the rest of the restaurant. “They seem …”

  “Sugary,” the policeman finished. A slight edge of bitterness was in his voice.

  “Sappy,” Clairice added.

  “Cute.” Garnet made a face normally associated with eating a lemon. “in the bad way.”

  The sounds of frantic frying and cooking echoed behind them. The three stared at the couple, who were doing nothing more innocuous than eating. However, no one else in restaurant was eating as they were; Jade was playfully popping stir-fried vegetables into HuanJen’s mouth. Though HuanJen was a master of not standing out, he was doing quite the reverse at that moment in time.

  “She’s feeding him,” Garnet said slowly.

  The Gendarme and the Nurse gaped in surprise. HuanJen and Jade were practical people, originally more partners than anything, the apprenticeship and the romantic relationship following later. Somehow part of the practicality had mutated into outbursts of cuteness at random intervals, a sort of mine field of longing looks and sudden cuddling ready to startle the unwary.

  Lorne shook his head. “Not the usual.”

  “They’ve gone to ‘disgusting,’ ” Clairce said soberly. “Right now, all …”

  Garnet restrained herself from pointing at the couple “She’s wiping his mouth. She’s. Wiping. His. Mouth.”

  “OK, that’s the critical point.” The nurse’s voice was deadly serious “We are into full-blown sickening.”

  Lorne’s voice was troubled. “It’d be nice if it wasn’t s
o … blatant.”

  “HuanJen. Who’d have thought?” Garnet nibbled a fingernail.

  “Jade,” Clairice stated flatly, “the nuclear-powered death bitch.”

  Silence. The cooks bustled around in the background. Lorne crossed his arms and pretended to look somewhere else.

  Garnet raised an eyebrow at Clairice. The Nurse nodded sadly. It was the kind of nod that, at the right time, meant the world was about to change, and everyone else had to watch out.

  January 5th, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar

  Slate was a busy Vulpine.

  The hulking, gray-furred man was a security specialist, a fact made obvious by his “Cornona Security” t-shirt (‘The Edge of Security Technology’). In Metris, especially in the current political climate, the skills he had honed at Colony were in demand. Unfortunately, this meant he was in demand, which meant some very strange and long hours.

  Fortunately, he had Garnet.

  Garnet took care of the home and the details of life, he earned the money; a hideously stereotypical arrangement that seemed to work for both of them and one he hoped to continue once they married. He could count on her always, to keep track of finances, keep the house, make dinner …

  … he opened the door to the apartment …

  … and she was on the phone.

  ” … I’m also worried about Lorne.” Garnet was pacing around the small living room, twisting the kitchen phone cord between her fingers. The apartment was not a large one as they were saving money for a house; Garnet could probably explore most of the place and still stay on the phone.

  The red-furred Vulpine waved at her boyfriend and continued her conversation. Slate, knowing full well when she wasn’t in the mood to be interrupted, sat quietly on the couch, picked up the Metris Times, and began reading. His ears, however, busily listened - he reasoned it wasn’t eavesdropping since Garnet and he had few secrets, and she could always go into the bedroom if she needed privacy.