“Taoist,” Moon struck an air of authority, sitting on the chair that her outfit had occupied, “answer me something, if you will.”
“If I can.” HuanJen didn’t seem impressed with Moon’s sudden change in attitude. Moon got the feeling little truly impressed him.
“I know of the Order of Sanctum. My mother was a shamneness in Guild Esoteric actually. Tell me how a man from an order that supposedly despises bureaucracy ends up working for one.”
HuanJen’s gaze was as steady as regular rain. “I don’t view it that way.”
“Guild Esoteric may be many things, but it is a bureaucracy, cleric.”
“No, you misunderstand. I am not their servant or lackey. I work with them. Part of them perhaps. But the Guild is what has arisen, what is. So I am part of it in that way.”
Moon snickered. “What a wonderful non-answer.”
“It was a non-question.” The sage smiled without malice, but the smile was a knowing one.
“Yes, I suppose it was. You will understand if I am concerned my people have trouble earning a living, of finding a place.”
“That I do,” HuanJen acknowledged. “It will be finished, eventually, and then you can rest.”
“Yes, I suppose. And … yes, your friends have done well. I never said I had to like it. I imagine this is a change for you.”
HuanJen felt a noose somewhere in Sister Moon’s voice. “Howso?”
“As I understand it, your troubleshooting is of a more - final nature. Fatal.”
The question hung in the air like a poisonous cloud.
“When I find it necessary, yes. I am a Zone Cleric. Life and death are my business and my stock in trade.” HuanJen focused his gaze on Sister Moon, looking at her, looking into the mirrored mask, and seemingly beyond.
“What are you afraid of?” the young sage asked compassionately, curiously.
“I didn’t ask you to be my counselor,” was the reply. Moon felt the gates of her mind snap shut. HuanJen had been striding along the edges of her soul casually, unwelcome.
“I understand.” Something seemed to withdraw deep into HuanJen. “I am there if needed, and I should probably go.”
“Yes.” Moon tapped her cursed stack of papers. “You should. Oh, and we may be in contact with you, we are considering a going-away party or similar event. Of course, we should check that with you. To do things properly.”
“That is appreciated. Now, I have a few issues …”
“Oh, a question,” Moon’s air of authority dropped. “Some of our members have had … odd experiences around Jade. One diviner found herself unusually inspired. Another feels very uncomfortable around her, and he is quite a sensitive.”
“She is conducting a series of educational experiments.” HuanJen’s answer sounded rehearsed. “I am hoping any spiritual fallout will pass shortly.”
“I see.”
“Now, I have to go to a meeting on …”
“Immigrants?” Moon asked, feeling she had the mystic cornered. It was oddly satisfying.
“Guild meeting, yes. Despite my duties with you, my Zone Cleric responsibilities do not change.”
“I heard that there are more people coming from second-level Earths, the lower one-hundreds. There was a war on one of them.”
“Yes.” HuanJen’s emotions seemed to be a mixture of several subtle feelings. “When such things happen the news spread, and psychics and visionaries tend to pick up on it. And we have more immigrants.”
“And your bureaucracy is there to be helpful,” Moon said.
“No, the help is the goal. The bureaucracy is one of those things surrounding it. Good day, Sister Moon.”
The partial-leader of the Panoramic League watched the Magician-Priest exit gracefully. She removed her mask when he was gone and smiled in a humorless way.
“Touche, sorcerer.”
December 24, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar.
Jade Shalesdaughter sat up in bed, panting.
Vulpines panted when too hot - they only sweated through their furless palms and the soles of their feet. Thus a panting vulpine was a sure sign of one that was too hot.
Or one that was panicking.
Jade looked at HuanJen who lay next to her. He was in a state that was a mixture of repose and sprawled, as calm as a cloud drifting in the sky. Part of her wanted to wake him to have someone share in her distress. Misery did, after all, like company.
After a moment’s thought, she slid out of bed, grabbed her robe, and headed for the door. She wanted to go for a walk, but it had actually snowed that day and she didn’t want to deal with winter’s chill. She had enough in her head to cope with, and didn’t neat trauma to her body.
She walked around the living room a few times. She felt strangely vulnerable, like someone was looking at her.
“It’s M, isn’t it?”
HuanJen was standing by the patio, a slightly lighter part of the darkness. Framed in the moonlight, he seemed to be a kind of silvered angel.
“Sort of.” Jade scowled, then dropped herself on the couch. “I … I think I figured out who and what he is. It’s … the repercussions of it I’m dealing with. What it’s making me think.”
HuanJen moved to put his arms around his lover, kneeling behind the couch. “You came very far.”
“Partially,” Jade acknowledged, “Gods, I know what he is, and … I know what it means. Not just to me. And …”
“Yes?”
“Huan, something is wrong with the Panoramic League. I can feel it. I couldn’t until … lately. And I’m still getting coincidences, but that’s … when my mind is open I can see now.”
There was a pause from the Taoist cleric. “I have felt something wrong as well. Having you confirm it is not reassuring. It relates to your experiences?”
“I think. It’s like they’re sick, HuanJen, sick and we’re seeing them through it, but it’s their own doing. It is and it doesn’t have to be, but it is … good gods of Xai I’m sounding like you.”
“Is that a good sign?” her lover’s voice was a mirror reflecting barely-concealed humor.
“I’ll get back to you. Don’t you want to ask what I found? Who M really is, what he is? What … I saw?”
“I’m not sure I should. I have left you to your devices, being available on request. I wish you to be independent. For all reasons. Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake.”
“No.” Jade leaned her head back. HuanJen nuzzled her ear affectionately. “You know me. You let me be. We … if there is a reason we are together is that we let each other be.”
“I know. And I am there. When needed.”
” … thank you.” Jade said softly. “I never thanked you for that.”
“You never had to. Now, tomorrow is a holiday. Let us sleep.”
“And the Panoramic League?”
“Let us keep watch. At least if our suspicions are crazy, we are being crazy together …”
December 25, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
It was Christmas on Xai.
In the cultural jigsaw-puzzle of Xai, Christmas held many meanings, even the lack of meaning. However, through a general kind of semi-conscious consensus over time, it was generally accepted to be a time to give gifts, observe whatever religious observances fit the time, and get time off of work. All but the latter were things popular in Xaian culture.
However, Xai was an industrious place, and especially among the natives, work was considered a calling, not something to be avoided.
Solomon Dell had his calling. Actually he’d had more of a shouting-in-the-ear in his youth, and had joined the Rancelmen.
He sat in his office at Rancelmen Headquarters, the ugly block-of-a-building that housed the specialized investigators and customs officials of the Traveler’s Guild. Papers, reports, reports that didn’t technically exist - he had to take time to review them.
Dell’s eyes scanned over a few printouts. His appearance was delicate, almost artistic - blond hair
in a ponytail, two braids framing a delicate face. His casual, colorful native clothes added to a strange, almost pretty look.
His eyes were as serious as death. It was the intensity one was used to seeing in musicians and artists prone to long nights of creation and complicated social lives.
His computer beeped. The Head Rancelman shook his lead and looked over at the desktop unit. He’d have to ask Miriam how to configure the new email program so it didn’t make noise every time an email arrived.
“What is it …” Dell muttered, worrying he was a few mouseclicks away from some new crisis. He had planned to go home early.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
TOPIC: Seasons Greetings.
Dear Solomon,
I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and wish you well. I hope we can see each other soon - I admit that my schedule lately has left me busy and I do miss our talks. Jade is well, and working on her training.
As you noted, yes, Jade and I are active. Details of course are not forthcoming. However we have managed to avoid some publicity, which has me quite happy.
I must cut this short as Jade has informed me that the plumber has arrived, but she has to go make a run to my regular clients. I will give you the unpleasant details on what Joe tried flushing down our toilet later, as I expect the plumber be more than glad to explain it to me.
Sincerely,
HuanJen
Dell shook his head. He’d never figured out how Negative Joe had fallen in with HuanJen’s group. The odd, neurotic musician didn’t seem the kind of person to fall in with anyone - even his recent holiday charity work had been marked by being very withdrawn.
As for the rest of the letter …
… HuanJen still maintained an enviable calm. He was human, even if you could miss it at times, but still calm, peaceful. Even faced with the Panoramic League - as Dell had been aware of before their retirement had become public knowledge.
Dell wasn’t happy with the League. He didn’t like wild cards, and he liked pretentious ones even less. The Panoramic League wasn’t the past, wasn’t history, and wasn’t tradition, as far as he was concerned - they were a bunch of overrated entertainers and faux mystics who lived on the reputation of those long dead. Cultural vampires, as far as he was concerned.
The Head Rancelman had bitter moments. He had vast reserves of spare bitterness he kept for special occasions.
After a moments thought, Solomon began typing out response.
Glad to hear things are well. I suppose you’ve heard the rumor (yes, I know what you say) about the League giving a final performance. Wether it is their idea or not, I feel …
December 27, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
Jade was getting her Guild Esoteric mail.
The Guild Mail system had evolved for much the same reason as the Guildbank - it was needed. It worked about as efficiently as anything else the Guilds did - not perfect, but good enough. They didn’t even mind giving someone multiple addresses.
In fact, for some deliveries, they encouraged it. Some places were more receptive to certain kinds of deliveries - or at least had more discretion. Thus many people received highly personal deliveries at their maildrops for the Prostitute’s Guild, and unusual items were happily delivered to mailboxes at Guild Esoteric where the supernatural was more easily dealt with.
This was especially important when they mixed things up.
“Purba Monthly?” Jade commented to herself, looking at a small newsletter.
She was shuffling through the maildrop she and HuanJen shared, amazed that once again they’d started getting some of Ahn’s mail. Ahn got some unusual stuff, but she rather feared how he’d react to the truly strange things HuanJen received.
“Hey, Jade!”
Speaking of truly strange things, she recognized Jape’s voice.
“Jape.” Jade turned around as the green-clad Mock pranced into the long hall of maildrops. She tried to sound friendly, or at least not openly hostile.
“I saw you go in and figured … I’d say hi before I dropped off the latest reports.” Jape waved a satchel around. “And how are you?”
“Fine. I …”
Jade’s mouth twitched. Jape saw her staring behind him and turned to look. A black-shrouded figure passed by the entrance to the maildrop room.
“Ah, yes, mysterious M, master of mystery. Wonder where he’s off to.”
“I have a good idea,” Jade muttered, “Anyway, I’m fine. And lets …”
“You … don’t like me do you?” Jape asked.
The Vulpine raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “What brought this on?”
“Well it’s relatively quiet here, no one’s around and I feel … I’ve been a pest. An annoyance.”
“Yeah,” Jade nodded, “I can see how you’d feel that.”
“Yes.”
Jade sighed. “Jape?”
“Justin, please.”
Jade blinked. “OK, Justin. Justin, I find you have an incredible ability to find what annoys people. You burrow into people’s minds. It’s amazing.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Jade shrugged.
“That’s so sweet!”
Jade found herself being hugged. By Jape. She had to put the words “hug” and “Jape” in the same mental space and her mind rebelled. Her body was pretty rebellious as well, but shock kept it from doing anything damaging to Jape.
“Thanks!” Jape ended the embrace. “I’m glad you understand. Look … I’ll see you in the meeting room on three and hand the reports over. Thanks, Jade.”
“Yeah …”
Jape bounded off. Jade watched him go, then, setting the mail carefully back in the mailbox, lowered her face into her hands. She screamed, very quietly.
She was in a building dedicated to spirituality and worship. She had to show some respect when she had psychotic urges.
January 2, 2001 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
Richard Nax, owner of the bar that bore his last name, hated bartender jokes. He despised them. They were the social equivalent of a bad rash to him.
So, of course, people told them to him. The universe had a way of filling in any gaps. He heard bartender jokes the same way people who hated cats always attracted them. In his more philosophical moments, he wondered if people who didn’t fear death lived longer in sort of a reverse attraction.
“I heard this joke,” said one of his patrons. A new one. He had a just arrived-look - alien clothes, unusual hairstyle, leaning on the bar with a bit too much familiarity. People who knew Richard knew he liked the bar of the Nax kept as uncluttered as possible, and that included body parts, attached or not.
“Yes?” Richard asked, trying to be jovial. He liked to work the bar a lot, but there were those annoying moments.
“OK,” the patron gestured, “I heard this from my landlady. A minister, a diviner, and an exorcist walk into a bar. Know what the bartender says?”
“That sounds like my regular customers.”
“No, no, I …”
Richard pointed to table in the back of the Nax. “No, those are my regular customers.”
The new patron looked at the table. He recognized a few of the regulars - a man in black minister’s robes, a mysterious man in a trenccoat, and a tall oriental man.
“Um. Oh …” the patron asked, and then quickly decided to stop talking for sometime. His mouth was too clogged with foot.
“Why is Richard pointing back here?” Dealer Zero asked Rake and HuanJen cautiously. He had led an odd life on and off of Xai, and didn’t like people pointing at him. It was usually a prelude to more unpleasant things coming in his direction.
“It’s probably, ah, nothing,” Rake sipped from the huge mug he’d ordered from Richard. “Relax.”
“Sorry,” Zero apologized. “I am … nervous.”
“Anything strange?” HuanJen and Rake asked in chorus. As diverse as their jobs and natures appear
ed to be, one of the unspoken goals of most Esotericists was to maintain a front line against civil and supernatural problems. Sadly, the front line usually snuck up behind you.
“Nothing out of the ordinary. I’m just not too sure about that performance the Panoramic League is given. It seems in bad taste. Like … well like a dying actor giving a performance to go ‘yoo-hoo, I’m gonna be a corpse.’”
“This is a change from your previous interest,” HuanJen stated cautiously. Rake nodded.
“I met some of them.” Zero sighed. “It’s not like what you read in books or at the University Archives. And those I did meet? Either they weren’t that into it or they turned up their noses. Oh, look, like I’m some kind of cretin for having my own place and shop. You know, if their final goodbye is like that, no one is going to miss them.”
“I would, ah, not be surprised.” Rake nodded. “It has filled the, ah, coffers, it has done a service, but, ah … I find this, ah, bit of cultural euthanasia, ah, unpleasant. And pointless.”
“It is not pleasant,” HuanJen acknowledged, “but it is nearly over. Two weeks you estimated?”
“Three at the most.” Rake gestured enthusiastically. “I imagine, ah, they need to do this … ah, when?”
“The fifth.” HuanJen said.
“Ah … oh, I’m going to miss wrestling if it’s broadcast. Well, yes, they, ah, need to do this soon. Some of their, ah, people are gone already. They won’t, ah, have anyone left.”
“People ask me about them now, when I’m in the field, when I see those in my Zone,” HuanJen spoke suddenly. The Taoist mystic seemed lost in thought.
“Huh?” Zero queried, brow furrowing.
“No one asked me about them before. People are becoming aware.”
“Same, ah, here.” Rake grimaced, then raised his glass. “To the end of the Panoramic League.”
The diviner and the exorcist raised their glasses and returned the toast, then drank.
“A question, Rake?” HuanJen ventured as he set his glass down.
“Ah, yes?”
“Wrestling?”
Zero nodded. “I was going to ask too.”
“Well, Garnet invited me over … ” Rake trailed off. “Ah, well, it’s fun. Your . . doppleganger … HuanJen is really quite a showman, and, ah, very charismatic. Clairice even enjoyed it.”
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