Crossworld of Xai

by Steven Savage

  “Drive?”

  “You know, many find that announcement either humorous or surprising,” HuanJen regarded his companion thoughtfully, “is it so stunning?”

  Dell fidgeted. “Well, one doesn’t expect a person with such responsibilities to not know how to drive. It’s also sympathy because … this is Metris.”

  “Ah.”

  “And I’d heard rumors you’d had to get someone to drive you to Shard Tower …”

  HuanJen almost rolled his eyes. “It is true. I suppose it will avoid embarrassment in the future. Change, of course, I have learned to accept …”

  “But?” Dell queried.

  ” … but it does not mean stability is not enjoyable.”

  “Welcome to my world.” Dell smirked. “My sympathies.”

  HuanJen stared at the controls of the a car meant more to stimulate or substitute for testosterone than actually be useful.

  He had been raised in the Order of Sanctum, trained in mystical, alchemical, and philosophical Taoism. He knew a near-infinity of medications, mentations, and counselings.

  This wasn’t among his educational experiences.

  He was, essentially, sitting inside a self-propelled missile. It wasn’t comforting. Yes, it was one of the electric cars of Xai, but as opposed to some of the comically small ones, this was Old Man Green’s pride and joy. Old Man Green had always acted his age, but he’d said that age was always about eighteen and his body just kept forgetting.

  He’d bought it in his late eighties. It was red, it was overpowered, and despite being comfortable, HuanJen felt very out of place.

  He rather imagined Lorne felt worse.

  Lorne had managed to get enough space in the seat. Lorne was not a man meant for the cars of Xai, beyond some of the Gendarme Crusiers that were specially imported and lovingly maintained. He’d developed a noteable skill for folding himself into various vehicles, a kind of personal automotive orgami.

  Teaching from such a position was another matter. He tried to angle himself so he could see, so he could instruct, and so he could get out quickly if need be.

  “OK, ” Lorne said, gesturing at the controls, “Now, you read the …”

  “Manuals, yes.”

  “And you’re …”

  “Ready, yes.” HuanJen’s voice held a hint of irritation, a very alien kind of the emotion. Lorne reasoned it was unfamiliar situations.

  “OK, start the car. We’re going to take it slow. At least the parking lot is clear … how did you find this.”

  “I had a meeting near here today. Let’s …”

  Several moments later, Lorne was screaming “Oh, gods!” at the top of his lungs. He’d done that in the presence of another man before, but not quite under the same situations.

  “That is not a normal car.” Lorne stated, staggering out of the vehicle.

  “Oh, no, not quite.” HuanJen slid out of the driver’s side door and to his feet. “Green enhanced it. “

  “Do tell.” Lorne tried to convince his knees they weren’t’ gelatin. His knees proved to be very strong willed.

  “Blessweaving along with some special technology. I think someone owed him a favor,” HuanJen answered casually. Green had spent some seventy or so years as a shaman and most of that as a Zone Cleric, and had made many unusual acquaintances.

  “What a strange way to pay him back.” Lorne looked around the empty parking lot. He finally sat down on the curb.

  “I didn’t do well?”

  “You did well, just very quickly.” Lore exhaled. “I’m not good at this.”

  “You are trying.” HuanJen sat on the pavement, instantly folding into a cross-legged position.

  “Yeah. I’m …”

  “Yes, Lorne?”

  The Gendarme felt HuanJen’s eyes look inside of him. HuanJen could know you like you knew your own heartbeat. It normally wasn’t that disturbing, but right now it couldn’t be a worse time.

  “Huan, sorry. I was hoping after this …”

  “You had a question,” HuanJen sounded exhausted. Lorne stopped himself from speaking for a moment. Something wasn’t right …

  … but you never got HuanJen going and then dropped the issue. It simply wasn’t done. It was like telling the wind to shut off. You’d also feel bad for days.

  “Just, curious, about you and Jade …” Lorne felt the words leak out around his politeness.

  “We’re fine. I admit it is hard to adjust to a more normal life after all things.”

  ” … actually I wanted to ask some advice.”

  “Oh.” HuanJen shook his head. “Sorry.”

  Lorne tried to determine what to do. HuanJen wasn’t quite himself. Stil, in for a penny, in for a Guilder.

  “Xianfu and I, well, we’re trying to figure things out. Especially … well, I’ll be honest, he’s crashing with Clairice and I starting next week. Guest room, but, he and I hope to work on things.”

  “And you think I can help?” HuanJen asked cautiously.

  “You and Jade seem to get along very well, considering what you’ve been through. I was hoping … I’m not sure right now. You don’t seem up to it.”

  HuanJen nodded. “I’m sorry. I am rather tired. I certainly can’t provide any advice. I am sorry, Lorne, we ignored you when Xianfu was out …”

  “No, no.” Lorne shook his head, then bobbled over to his friend. “No, you and Rake had your reasons to be busy, believe me. I understood then, and with everything in the open, I understand more now.”

  “I have no advice,” HuanJen admitted. “Do you realize I’ve known her over a year. I am very fortunate. But … as I have realized lately, there is much I do not know.”

  “Oh.” The policeman felt like a complete idiot. He had felt like a partial idiot since the driving lesson began, but now he had achieved Full Stupidity. “This is a bad time.”

  “Sorry.” HuanJen looked at his friend wearily. “Over three years, you and I Lorne.”

  “Indeed.” The Gendarme nodded. “The entire bar incident.”

  “I really had no idea that ‘men’s night’ was so specialized.”

  “You collect the oddest people.” Lorne remarked. The past swam before his eyes. He’d been on Xai for how long? He wasn’t born here, but it felt like forever.

  “I do. I fell in love with one.”

  “Things … are not well?” Lorne tried to look HuanJen in the eyes, tried to read something off of him. It was like trying to grasp the feelings of the Ocean.

  “Tired. Thoughtful. We endure. We merely have to think of the future …”

  “Slate and Garnet?”

  HuanJen nodded. “Among other things. We are trying to feel more normal. Trying has its limits. But, we go on, we’ve been through everything else. There … there is that eternal behind things, and that is where we stand.”

  “You’ll understand if that’s not entirely helpful,” Lorne smirked.

  “I didn’t intend it to be.” HuanJen looked at his watch. “I will need to return the car soon. I’m going out.”

  “Jade?”

  HuanJen shook his head. “Oh, no! Riakka and I are going to catch a lecture.”

  “Really,” Lorne nodded. “She’s a nice kid, I think she’s becoming part of the gang. What are you going to?”

  “Oh, a lecture on Muslim culture on Xai and its history since the first immigration.” HuanJen’s eyes were alight with a strange enthusiasm. “It’s part of trying to revive that old lecture series. I don’t think it’s something Jade would like, so she’s going with me.”

  “You wild man …”

  Lorne Thompson was a firm believer in finding answers. He had a precise mind, somewhere between a detective and an artists. He liked things nice and neat and clean and pressed, though in a laid-back do-what-is-important way. It’s what made him a good policeman - it was hard for his mind not to entertain Things In The Right Order.

  Lorne, of course, had a story. Like everyone.

  He had come to X
ai because of what it promised; a place for everyone, a place of wonders, a place of be-anything. His entire life on his earth had been to pigenholed, and not the kind of pigeonholing he preferred. A military life involving some rather unsual secrets turned out to be less than interesting. When he’d told his parents he was a homosexual, they’d made assumptions, great binding chains of assumptions.

  On Xai, he was himself. His story was his own.

  Except, he felt something was Not In The Right Order. He wanted to Put It Right. If you cornered him on it, he’d admit that, having his first serious relationship since he and Clairice had dated the same man, he was terrified of messing it up.

  Everyone has a story. What people forget is that other people have stories too and that stories can get entangled.

  August 4, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar

  There was an important issue on Xai, regarding food. It transcended the Guild politics. It caused conflicts among the Mercantile Alliance, the Farming Collectives, and the Rancelman. It could be summed up in one word.

  Coffee.

  Coffee did not grow well in the Xaian environment, at least in the civilized areas. Between bad stock, a few odd plant viruses, and some unexpected environmental variables, coffee was a luxury. However, Xai and Metris adapted. A few deals with the Traveler’s and the Mercantile Alliance, and Xai saw the introduction and expansion of an establishment common on several Earths:

  The coffee shop. Different names, different places, but they had sprung up in Metris, like very classy fungi. People went to them because they were different, because they were unique. Even if they didn’t like coffee.

  Fang Xianfu, the Outrider, had even gone to one, and he was the kind of rough-and-tumble person that distrusted classy. Yes, he was educated, yes he was well spoken, but he hated putting on airs. It was like disguising yourself.

  But, Lorne had insisted. He found it very hard to say no to Lorne, and even more disturbing, he found he didn’t care it was hard to say no.

  Lorne had insisted they go to a coffe shop.

  Fang Xianfu looked down at the mug in his hand. It was very expensive. Impressively so. It smelled … a strange tart-and-earth-cream smell.

  It was, as he reminded himself, again, very expensive and he hadn’t paid for it. Not paying for something could do wonders for what you’d try.

  It was just hard, as he had never liked coffee. He could deal with the concept of drinking something that came from a bean; he’d eaten enough strange things as an Outrider. It’s just that he didn’t like the taste. He figured it wasn’t the caffene that woke people up, it was the fact that the inside of your mouth tasted like fermented dirty.

  “Is it OK?” Lorne asked, lounging in one of the comfortable chairs scattered around the shop. The chairs were extra-large, giving Lorne excellent room to lounge.

  Xianfu concentrated on his surroundings. The establishment, something named after the owner (“Mullgaine”?), had a feeling more of a large den, with padded chairs, low tables, and a rather informal atmosphere - at least until you bought something. Then you had a feeling of a lighter wallet.

  It was a nice date, but …

  “I’ll give it a go.” Xianfu nodded. He took a sip, trying to get into the atmosphere of the shop. Maybe coffee was a state of mind, like love, or schizophrenia.

  “Xianfu?” Lorne looked at his boyfriend cautiously. Xianfu was blinking slowly.

  “It’s … not that great. Sorry.” The Outrider wanted to use the words “strained through a dead cat” but it seemed impolite.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I thought you’d want to try it.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Xianfu smiled. Lorne was always so concerned about him. It was comforting in a weird way, and not insulting at all. Normally he hated it when people seemed to worry about him, seeming to think he couldn’t handle things. Lorne’s worry was more an appreciation than an assumption of incompetence.

  “Ah, well, you tried it. Don’t worry, I’ll drink it.” Lorne winked. “Well … anyway, besides the get-together.”

  “You talked to Mr. Mystic.” Xianfu said. He knew that would come up. Lorne was wanting to Put Things Right and Figure Out Their Relationship. He couldn’t blame him, actually - the two of them had once commiserated over their pasts and found lots of room for commiseration.

  Lorne nodded. “HuanJen isn’t going to be that helpful. He’s got a lot on his mind, and … a little less insight than I’d expected.”

  “You sure we need … well I mean we’re doing fine, Lorne. Hell, this is the most fun I’ve had coming home ever, see you waiting for me …”

  Xianfu felt the words fade. Things felt fine. But he wasn’t always sure what fine was.

  “Yeah, well, you know.” Lorne stirred his own mug of coffee. “I like it. It’s been … a long time since I had anything close to a relationship. And I know it’s the same for you.”

  “True. I mean, do we …” Xianfu began, but he caught Lorne’s gaze. It was far away and very serious. The coffee shop faded into the background.

  “How happy are you?” Lorne asked.

  Xainfu nodded, trying to convince his speech centers to earn their keep. “I’m …”

  “Come on, babe,” Lorne nudged his boyfriend, “say it.”

  “I’m … pretty happy. Look, why don’t you ask Rake … er, sorry, you explained that, never mind. I just feel kind of dumb … asking people for advice on dating you. I mean … yeah. I’m happy. I’ve just had some fights before.”

  Fights. It would be nice to Put Things Right.

  “We won’t fight. We talked about this. We just need to get some ideas of who we can ask for advice. Sort of strategically. There’s a lot of stuff to cope with, and Slate and Garnet are getting married and HuanJen and Jade have been together, they’re … people to learn from.”

  “I know.” Xianfu looked into his mug of disliked coffee.

  He was an Outrider. They charted the worlds unknown and unexplored, they located portals. They sought and they Traveled and they mapped.

  No one did it forever. It wasn’t a life, it wasn’t a lifestyle, it was a job. Eventually you had to stop from loneliness or death or age or incapacity. It wasn’t a job without honor or appreciation or money, it just was a job that wasn’t kind to you.

  The loneliness was the worst. It ate you alive from the inside. You could be alone on one world. On an infinity of worlds, it was a true horror.

  Xianfu didn’t like the idea of horror, of being afraid.

  “I’ll talk to Slate,” Xianfu said primly. “I think he’d tell you what you want to hear, but I’d be a wildcard.”

  “Really?” Lorne asked, cocking his head. “I suppose. I … let’s leave off the issue of things, the jobs and all.”

  Xianfu nodded. Lorne had insinuated that, perhaps, Xianfu should examine other employment if he was considering settling down. Not necessarily with Lorne. Of course. No. Just in general. Sort of.

  “Of course, of course.” Xianfu took an experimental sip of his coffee. “It … kind of grows on you.”

  “You’re lying,” Lorne said politely.

  “Trying to be civil,” Xianfu countered, “one must make the efforts …”

  Unlike his boyfriend, Fang Xianfu was not the kind of person to Put Things Right. He ambled through life more often than not, and preferred to know Where Things Were.

  It had served him well, of course. He had been to many Earths, exotic and different places, and he got paid to show Where Things Were and What They Were. This plant was edible, this was not. This Earth had mild weather, this place’s “occasional” storms required you to stretch your definition of “occasional.” This tribe will ask you to marry their princess, and upon being informed you prefer men, she will introduce you to her brother.

  The only problem was that, at times, once you thought you knew Where Things Were, someone moved them on you. Thus, Xianfu was fully certain he was going to talk to Slate, and gather intelligence, just like his job. Exploring rela
tionships or exploring Earths was just a matter of seeing what was out there and making decisions.

  Sometimes, someone moved things on you, and your story changed.

  Or old parts of your story came back just when you thought they were gone.

  For instance, Fang Xianfu once had a partner who had decided he was tired of Xaian politics and had left the world. Case closed. End of story.

  Supposedly.

  August 7, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar

  Slate looked down at the sheets of paper, printouts, and newspaper articles on the living room table. The small living room table.

  Small living room. Small table. Small apartment.

  Soon to change. Hopefully.

  The Vulpine shook his head. A lot had to change. He felt his life pressing down on him like a shadow with weight. The house he’d promised Garnet. The Marriage. Time bore down on him on midnight wings.

  It had all made sense when he proposed. It still did. Garnet did. His life on the other hand …

  There was a knock at the door. Slate looked at the gathered papers, weighted reading them over an unknown visitor, and made his decision.

  “Just a moment.”

  Slate barreled for the door, looked through the eyehole, and then opened the door it in surprise.

  “Xianfu?”

  There were many possible visitors Slate could have expected, but Lorne’s boyfriend wasn’t one of them. Rake, HuanJen, maybe Brandon. Lorne certainly, but Xianfu?

  He barely knew Xianfu, certainly not as well as he’d like. Actually, Slate speculated, he wished he did. The kind of person that could win Lorne’s heart and was worth knowing.

  “Just … swinging by.” Xianfu said in a tight-lipped manner.

  “I see, well … why don’t you come in,” Slate invoked some repressed hospitality.

  “Thanks.” Xianfu entered the apartment, shutting the door behind him. “Home search?”

  “The usual,” Slate muttered, sitting back on the couch, “I always get going then get … ah …”

  “Interrupted?”

  “Sorry.” Slate felt about a meter tall, “There’s a lot to deal with.”

  Xianfu nodded. His voice was comforting, oddly cultured to Slate’s ears. “I know. Same here.”