Crossworld of Xai

by Steven Savage

  “And what did I say?” Jade asked.

  “That Zero was cheap and it was a way to put my mind at ease.”

  “Well, sort of but … oh, nevermind.”

  Garnet stood. “I’m going to go grab breakfast. Hey, Zero, want us to get you something?”

  Zero shrugged. “Sure. Something non-fattening. I have to go to the store later anyway. Thanks.”

  “No problem. I take back all the things I thought about you when I lived with HuanJen.”

  “How flattering.”

  Garnet sighed. She seemed to stand taller, or in her case, at least at average height. “Pay the man, Jade.”

  “Beg pardon?” Jade blinked.

  “Hey, he gave me some damn good advice. Fifty Guilders, pay him.”

  “Fine,” Jade reached for the wallet she kept in one of her belt-pouches, “just keep in mind who handles the professional counseling in this Zone, card-boy …”

  October 22, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar.

  It was one more week before the Week of the Dead. It was a good time for things of a nature of recall, of ritual, of statement-of-is.

  The spire-like Martello was the home of the Gendarmes, the Guild of law enforcement. Some people romanticized them as modern-day knights, though admittedly anyone seeing them gently escort a drunk home would find that less than romantic. They did their job, by the example of their past, by the sacrifice of the present.

  But to themselves, they did feel like knights. The Gendarmes had passed through many phases in the life of their guild, but in the end, they kept order for people, kept the law. It required a special something to do that.

  And a special way to join.

  The latest recruits stood in the Great Hall at the top of the Martello. It was where the Guild’s leaders usually met, but this was a special occasion. The new Gendarmes were being sworn in.

  Slate stood among some of his fellows, dressed in the dark blue uniform of the Gendarmes. At the podium of the crystalline room stood the Guildhead, the leader of the Gendarmes, elected by the Guild Council of Metris to run them.

  … and Slate nearly laughed. He couldn’t recall his name. He was nervous …

  ” … we are the keepers of the law. The sacred trust …”

  Slate looked over where friends and relatives were gathered at one side of the Great Hall. Garnet was there, dressed in her finest dress, a pretty blue number that made him remember when he’d first saw her, when she’d been a secretary.

  She was smiling at him. He could tell … she approved. She was happy.

  She was proud.

  She trusted him. Then again if he could trust his sister, certainly Garnet could trust him.

  ” … and now, what do you swear by, to uphold the law?” the Guildhead asked.

  The answers came from the others - names of gods, principles, and so forth. Slate felt himself say two words.

  “This world.”

  For a strange moment, he felt he understood HuanJen and Rake, and even his sister. That, he felt, was a miracle all it’s own.

  He’d hoped Jade had made the swearing-in, but the Gendarmes did limit who could observe. Besides, before the Week of the Dead, and there was much to do for Guild Esoteric before that eventual few days …

  Jade tried to remind herself that rituals and ceremonies were things of meaning, not of objects or words or excess. Still, she felt that she should have expected more of her hope to have HuanJen “test” her.

  Instead, she got invited to M’s office. The cleaning lady passed her by, on her afternoon rounds. It wasn’t that mystical an experience.

  HuanJen hadn’t gone with her. He noted some things had to be faced on their own, and she knew he was right. The mystical pain-in-the ass.

  She had to face M.

  “Hello Jade.” M’s voice was still it’s indescribable self. You could dissect that voice into individual parts, and still get lost between the words.

  M, representative of Guild Esoteric to the Guild Council that ran Metris and, by and large, Xai itself. M, who always wore black - cloak, gloves, everything. Even his face was swathed in black cloth.

  “Hey.” Jade nodded at M’s dark form, closing the door. She felt a bit out of place - she’d dressed in her jeans and jacket due to the weather, and she didn’t feel all that mystical. Still, it was her work outfit …

  “I have a test for you, Jade.” M rose from his desk like darkness falling over land. “A test to take you further into the Otherworld. A test appropriate to you. A way … to evaluate yourself.”

  Jade nodded. “I …”

  “This is not what you expected?”

  “No.”

  “What is?”

  The question hung in the air like a cloud. M waited for Jade to answer, though most people in Guild Esoteric who knew Jade knew that she was quite happy to talk.

  The vulpine shrugged. “Something more impressive. More … ritualistic.”

  “Why?”

  ” … because … OK, good point.” Jade grimaced. “I just want things in order.”

  “They already are.” M walked over to Jade. “Find out what I am, Jade Shalesdaughter. That is your test. This is your initiation.”

  “Yes.” M extended a gloved hand, which Jade shook. “Your assignment, Jade. Find out what I am.”

  “You’re … a Guild Councilman and our representative to the Guild Council of all Guilds.” Jade said. “OK, there, I passed?”

  “Very funny.” M’s spectral voice held a hint of humor.

  “Not really, it was lame. I’m still nervous.”

  “True. No, Jade. Not who. What …”

  Jade looked into M’s dark hood. There was something there under the wrappings, the cloth. Something looking back at her.

  A mystery.

  Something to figure out, something to … well, she was just the kind of person who figured things out. Who walked boundaries and found edges.

  “OK, spooky, you’ve got it …”

  ” … and don’t call me spooky. I have an image to maintain.”

  Copyright 2001 by Steven Savage. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to actual events or persons, living or dead, except in the case of historical reference, is entirely concidential.

  INTERLUDE: Ossuary

  November 2, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar

  My name is Solomon Dell and I’m surrounded by the dead.

  Some cynics and detractors would probably say that I should be used to it by now. They can, as far as I am concerned, go straight to the hell of their choice. They can do my job for a year and see how they feel. They can lead the Rancelmen. They can lead my people.

  But instead of being with my people, I’m in the Ossuary, the great place of the dead, the great tomb.

  Guild Esoteric clerics and the faithful gave their bodies and bones to the place, where human remains decorate underground chambers and cathedrals dedicated to nameless things. I walk through hallways where skulls surround electric lamps, past rooms where ribs form symbols of faith. I want to be nauseated or scared, but instead … my feelings are beyond me.

  The dead are this place.

  HuanJen brought me here, he and his lady, Jade. He said he comes here every year during the Week of the Dead to remember those past, to think about the cycles of things. She said very little that wasn’t sarcastic, though I admit I find her sarcasm conforming - a reminder to not take things too seriously.

  When we came to the Ossuary, passed beneath the bone-idol of Mortru, she went silent. It was the kind of silence like the world ending because words always run out. Here she is respectful. Here, even Jade Shalesdaughter is serious.

  She and her lover walked into the depths of this great odd boneyard, hand in hand, and left me alone. To think. Jade winked at me as they left - not something malicious, but something knowing.

>   I wish I wasn’t alone. I’d like some of HuanJen’s wisdom or Jade’s sarcasm. But they know. I know. I need time. He didn’t have to say.

  HuanJen annoys me at times - he has a way of knowing things, knowing things you yourself should know. For all he has done for me, sometimes when he looks at me, he looks through me and out of me. He gets inside my head and uses my own eyes.

  Looking …

  Skulls glare down at me. I am in one of the seemingly infinite number of bone-decorated chambers. The skulls are mounted on a wall in a yin-yang shape, surrounded by an eight-spoked wheel made of assorted ribs. The skulls still stare …

  … and I close my eyes. I still see skulls behind my eyelids. Memories rising from their graves.

  People bustle by me, and I break out of my reverie. I don’t know what to do. I never came here before - I had no real reason. To Guild Esoteric and many, it is a place of remembrance, a grisly if respectful place to recall those who have passed. To me …

  Well my family was never that religious in the serious way. The Dells had a history of marrying odd and marrying immigrants. Oh, I went to temple and I pray to the native gods and all, but my choices always seemed rather … muddled. I wish I knew more, maybe I’d know why I’m here …

  … I’m lying, I know why I’m here. I just can’t say it.

  I walk on into the Ossuary, past supplicants and the weeping and the quiet. It is the week of the Dead, when we all remember those who passed. The Ossuary gets more traffic then, HuanJen said, and more serious traffic. Less tourists, less gawkers, more respect.

  The dead are around me. Nameless ivory-white and aged-yellow.

  Jade said something cryptic about this place, that it helped her understand. I suppose I can understand that - when you walk beneath an archway detailed in vertebrae, you have to think. You can’t build enough walls in your head to keep the dead out.

  Always the dead …

  Brenker died of the Pharoah A plague. A lot of Rancelmen did. That’s how I got my job, because enough people died and no one else wanted the position. Being Head of the Rancelmen was a lonely walk, lit by a funeral pyre.

  I hear what happens to people’s watch on the Portals, the confrontations, the news from the other worlds. More death. The wars. The refugees. People …

  … my daughter. I wasn’t even there when she died. We thought she’d get better.

  … always the dead.

  Bones.

  I had to seal off the Portals when Earth 2-124 went nuclear. I had to shut the doors on those fleeing. I had to let them fear and panic and die. I had to because of what nuclear explosions do to unscrambled portals because it was pounded into my head in training and on one or two occasions I dare not talk about. So few people know some things can spill in from the other Earths …

  I stand alone in a room of bones, and the dead are around me.

  Why am I here …

  “I’m sorry.” I whisper to the silence. “I protected people, and … I did what I knew to be right. But I am sorry. I am sorry you died. I am sorry the people on your world went to war.”

  My words fall away into the bones and echo in skull sockets. They are adsorbed by the great silence of the once-living. I feel a great hole here, punching through to other places.

  I turn around and go to look for HuanJen and Jade. Then I pause.

  One more thing.

  “Honey … I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop it. But … we stopped other bad things. I did good. I’m sorry you … went away.”

  I feel empty, but it’s a good kind of emptiness. Clean.

  The dead are taken care of, and I … need to see HuanJen and Jade. See people alive.

  I need to see that very much.

  RITUALS: Invocations

  November 4, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar

  “HuanJen, to see …”

  “Yes. I know. I have your file. Please wait over there with the others.”

  I look at the waiting area. There are no others, but I decline to comment on it. The secretary appears to be functioning in a rather automated manner, so I do not argue. Instead, I sit..

  I am waiting in the Tax and Fee office of Guild Esoteric. It is the end of the Week of the Dead, and despite the demands of the time, despite the need for exorcisms and counselings and advisings, I need to explain my billing. This is not one of my more clerical times. This would be Jade’s area, but …

  “Ah, HuanJen, what brings, ah, you here?”

  The voice is familiar and welcome. Rake, leader of the only Church of the Works of Christ, a good friend, and in general a positive presence. His squat, black-robed appearance is the visual equivalent of a brick in the face - very unavoidable. Though many of the Guild have developed a way to pass quietly through the world, Rake can barely conceive of the concept.

  “Taking care of some reporting issues.” I gesture for my friend to sit. He does so, setting aside his worn briefcase. Apparently he has business as well.

  “Ah, I see.” Rake tapped the case. “Bringing in my financials. I, ah, swear, they’re, ah, more strict these, ah, days.”

  “I have to sort out Garnet and Slate’s wedding.” I feel some exasperation. “Since I’m donating the time, I reported it early. However, since they’re used to Jade doing the reports … you understand.”

  “I, ah, do.” Rake gestured to the case again. “You don’t have to, ah, report as many, ah, donations.”

  “You know,” a thought crosses my mind, “you should email the reports in. It is more efficient.”

  “And, ah, how did you send in that, ah, report that confused anyone.”

  I think for a moment. Jade always followed every new innovation at www.guildesoteric.xai. “Point taken.”

  “Well, it, ah, won’t be so bad. Why, ah, didn’t you just fill out the usual, ah forms?” Rake suddenly seems curious. Considering Jade usually handles such matters, and quite well, I can’t blame him.

  “This is quicker.” That’s the only real answer I have. This will at least end things.

  “Ah.” Rake’s answer is not part of his unusual stutter. The tone of his voice suggests more. He forgets many a time that I can read people whether they are fellow Holy Men or not.

  “Yes, Rake?” I ask quietly. The secretary appears to be ignoring us, but appearances are just that - appearances.

  “Ah.” Rake nods. “You are concerned about the wedding.”

  The wedding. Slate and Garnet’s wedding. Slate, my lover Jade’s brother. Garnet, my … well, friend, though that is complicated. Of course I am concerned. I am concerned for all those close to me.

  I have felt the pulse of the City, of Xai, felt the lives of the people I serve. I know the demands of Guild Esoteric and their recent needs for me, and I have an idea of what is coming.

  “Yes, Rake.” I nod. “The job change for Slate did set back their house search plans, and you know how housing has been. I want things in order for Slate. For Jade. For Garnet.”

  Rake nods curtly. I can feel he wishes to say more, so I wait. It’s hard to restrain him from his regular voice or The Voice.

  “Expecting to be busy?” Rake hazards. He’s not saying all he wishes to, and it’s very obvious. Rake lacks subtlety at times, and so other times tries to make up for it, to avoid hurting the feelings of others.

  “Why?” I ask.

  Rake rolls his eyes and lowers his voice. “I hear, ah, the Guild Council’s going to give you a new assignment, ah as part of that consulting position they retain you, ah, for?”

  Rake, of course, knows me well enough to know I prefer the truth, though he’s obviously not trying to trap me. Sadly, Guild policy does put me on the spot in many occasions.

  “I can’t talk about it Rake. And yes, not even to Jade.”

  “Oh.” Rake looks down, apparently imagining how Jade may react to discovering people don’t wish to share information with her. “How is she?”

  “Well. Her test is giving her a chance to study.” Jade asked to have a
test to evaluate her abilities to deal with her job on her own, and was given the assignment of divining the identity of M, the Guild representative to the Guild council. “She is fine.”

  Rake nods. “And all else?”

  “The wedding, all things. I wish things in order, I wish my friends happy. So I am putting everything in order.” That too is the truth, without revealing anything else.

  “I understand.” Rake smiles, and puts a muscular arm around my shoulder - not an easy feat considering the differences in our heights. “Ah, now, this is better than, ah, things were. Hang in there.”

  “Don’t worry. I am putting things in order my way.”

  “Ah …”

  November 5, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar.

  One of the peculiar things about the Way is that all things balance out, yet despite this people are constantly surprised by life. They will see the results of their actions, they will see odds evening out, and be utterly shocked. There are times I find it hard to talk to people without my background - it is hard to talk to people that assume profit, success, this, or that are all permanent or inevitable.

  For instance, Slate is patrolling an area of the city I am visiting. This is of course against the odds, especially as the Gendarmes have him doing substitute work on his partrols until he settles in somewhere and can take a regular beat. However, it is not against the odds that I would run into him within my life time, so thus, this is not unusual.

  Slate is not taking it that way.

  He and I have never gotten along as well as we could - he harbors some jealousy over my past with Garnet, and to be frank, he does not like me. The former is hard to accept, the latter easy. Still, I find I unsettle him.

  “HuanJen?” Slate is looking at me from his seat at a booth in some small diner; apparently I caught him about to take lunch. His beat partner is nowhere to be seen, which makes me curious.

  “I saw you in the area.” I await an invitation. “I had to check up on a Watching Dead case, the one Jade handled awhile back. I’d called Garnet to check on how things were going and she said you’d be in the area.”

  “Ah. I see.” Slate is a man of many thoughts and few words. He looks up at me.

  “Would you like to join me?” The words are automatic. Clockwork politeness.