Amorlia: Age of Wonder

by Chris Wichtendahl

  The Candidates

  Jat Loren stumbled out of his bedroom, shaking. He fell to his knees, holding fast to a row of shelves. He was naked and covered with sweat, his hair disheveled, his eyes wide and staring. The woman he knew only as Mistress followed. She pulled on a robe, looking as though she had risen from a nap. She smiled down at him. "Professor," she said pleasantly. "M-mistress," he gazed adoringly up at her, "the visions... they..." "Yes," she said absently, examining her fingernails, "I'm certain they are quite overwhelming." She smiled again, bending low to run her finger along his jawline. "You'll be sure and pass them along to your faithful won't you, darling?" she purred sweetly, "Make sure you lodge the imagery firmly in their little brains. We'll need it there later." Professor Jat Loren, Leader of the Holy Church of the Divine Spark, Prophet of the Sacred Emisarries and candidate for High King of Amorlia, grinned stupidly. A thin sheen of drool covered his lower lip as he looked up into the face of divinity and nodded. "Good monkey," his Mistress cooed. She stood, turned on her heel and left. Professor Jat watched her go, then fell face-down, dribbling and babbling into the carpet. Later, dressed and seemingly sane, he stepped out onto the pulpit that rose above his followers in the Grand Temple. His arms outstretched, he reached out to the minds of all assembled. He could never have done this with so many before he'd met the Masters. They'd opened up his mind and expanded his telepathy greatly. The Mistresses would deliver prophesies unto him. They would... do things with him... and he would... He closed his eyes. He couldn't think of that, when the Mistress was in his bed. When his mind was a universe unto itself and he felt the vast wonder of all Creation between his legs... He shook his head. He couldn't think about that now. He had to share the latest revelations. He had to show the light of Truth to those who would follow it. The first debates of the campaign were tomorrow, and a chance to bring the light to those that had never seen it. But he knew. Deep in his soul he knew the Masters were driving him mad. And he knew he would thank them for it in the end.

  ***

  Fourth stepped from Jat Loren's airship to Artemis Vega's private chamber in the space of a moment. As she entered the foyer, she saw a Captain of the local Pacifica waiting. "Ah," Fourth said, flashing a tight-lipped smile, "what brings you here today, Captain... Moxen?" "Yes," Kai nodded, looking around the grey-clad woman, "I'd hoped I could speak to Her Majesty." Fourth smiled again, bowing politely, "The High Queen prepares for the debate tomorrow evening. It is a time of deep meditation for her, and she can not be disturbed. Perhaps I can take a message?" Her eyes were the very picture of innocent solicitude. Kai shook her head warily. "It is a personal matter," she said. Fourth's smile slipped a bit, though her lips remained tight. The corners of her mouth twitched up again and she said, "Well. Another time, then." Kai remained wary, backing away from the other woman slightly, "Aye," she said, "I suppose so. You'll excuse me." She made a perfunctory bow and left. Artemis stumbled out of her room, looking blearily after Kai. "Was that Kai?" she asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Was Kel with her?" Fourth smiled indulgently at her and crossed to the High Queen's side. "No, my Lady," she said, "Kel has left the city, remember?" "Oh," Artemis stared dreamily into space, then looked over at Fourth, confused. "Why?" she asked. Fourth shook her head, reaching up to touch Artemis' face. "It doesn't matter, Your Majesty," she began to lightly trace the blue triple moon on Artemis' face, and the former Monarch of Vega's eyes began to droop. "You should sleep now," Fourth murmured gently, "get your rest for tomorrow. Sleep..." Artemis' eyes closed and Fourth smiled, "Yes, that's it. Sleep... sleep and dream of your love..." A look of great contentment fell across Artemis' face, her lips parted in a smile and she sighed happily before falling into a deep slumber. She was carried to bed by Fourth, who then spent the remainder of the evening preparing the High Queen's remarks for the debate the following night.

  ***

  Mar Dagnae sat in her office, brooding. Something was wrong. It wasn't just the closing of the University, Kel's exile or the rise of Jat Loren's bizarre cult. It was all of those things, and something else. The man she knew as Three walked into the room. She looked at him, studying him. He'd been with her company for ten years, and had risen quickly to become her most trusted executive. She suddenly realized she had trouble recalling exactly why she trusted him so much. And then she considered the various decisions she'd made according to his advice in the past few years. The run for the High Queen's throne, stepping down as active chief executive of many of her smaller holdings. She turned them over to him, as she recalled. Thoughts ran together in her mind. A few fell into place. She reached under her desk. "Three?" she called, innocently. "Yes Mar," he replied. "Where are One and Two?" she asked. "Excuse me?" "One and Two," she repeated. "If you're Three, One and Two must be somewhere." "Mar..." Third approached, one of his disarming smiles spreading across his face. She began to regret sharing her bed with him. She'd let him in close, and she feared he had taken something from her. Something she didn't even know was gone yet. She slid the gun out from its holster under the desk and aimed it at him. "I built this gun myself, Three," she reminded him. "It fires projectiles that can blow a hole through a mountain." "Mar," his smile grew wider. Too wide, she noticed. "Don't be silly, it-" BLAM! The shot knocked him onto his back, a hole in his shoulder. She rose from her desk and went to stand over him, pointing the gun at his head. "Tell me who you are, what you've done, and everything that's going on," she growled. Third gripped his shoulder, glaring up at her. He bared his razor-sharp teeth. "Shoot me all you want, ape," he spat, "even your superbullets can't kill me." "Well," Mar mused, aiming between his legs, "it looks like they hurt a great deal. That's good enough." She fired and he howled in pain, doubling over. "Now," she knelt down, placing the gun against Third's temple, "tell me who you are, what you've done and everything that's going on."

  Second Impression

  Mandhe walked behind Kel and the old Gunfighter, hand in her bag clutching one of her guns. She looked around warily at the cat people who'd come back to walk with them. The one called Bors was close by, and he kept looking at her. "What?!" she barked, turning sharply to glare at him. He jumped, then looked away. She kept glaring at him as they walked, and finally he turned back to look at her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I scared you like that." "You didn't scare me," she said unconvincingly. Bors raised a furry eyebrow. "Fine," she huffed, "maybe you scared me a little. Okay, a lot," she added. She frowned at him. "You're very scary." He looked away again. "I don't mean to be," he said. "Well," he stuttered, realizing the fallacy of that statement, "I-I mean, not, um, not all the, you know, always. I mean, I was then, with you, because I thought you weren't you. Well," he was babbling, "I knew you were you, I just thought you were different than you actually... not that I, you know, really know you." He looked at her from the corners of his eyes, "I... I'd like to," he smiled, "get to know you." His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "I'd like to get to know you." Mandhe looked at him appraisingly, hand still in her bag, the smallest hint of the idea of the notion of a smile toying with her lips. "Hmm," she said, "I can't decide if that little speech of yours was cute, or merely a sign of social ineptitude." She actually did smile this time and removed her hand from her bag, leaving the gun behind. "I'm going with cute, for the moment," she said. He smiled. "I like your fur," she said. "The colors of it, I mean. I like the way it looks." "Thank you," he said, tail swishing. He purred when he spoke. "I've never met a woman without fur before, and," he looked at the sides of her head, "do you even have ears?" She laughed, pulling her long curls back, exposing her ears. They had several hoops and studs in various piercings. "Of course I have ears, silly. See?" Bors laughed. "But," he said, "they're round. And... and... on the side of your head!" He reached out one paw-like hand as though to touch one of them. "Can I..?" Mandhe shrank back, clutching her bag. "NO!" she yelled. Bors recoiled as though his hand had been burned. "S-sorry," he said. Mandhe glanced around and noticed everyone looking at them. She gri
nned sheepishly. "Heh," she waved, "hello." Everyone else went back to their own conversations. She walked closer to Bors, who was shuffling along, downcast. "Um," she said. "Aye," he mumbled, "I shouldn't have... it was too soon after... I'm sorry." "No, no," she shook her head, "I'm sorry. It wasn't... well, it was too soon, I guess, but I still shouldn't have..." she laughed, rolling her eyes. She stopped on the path and extended her hand. "Hello," she said, "I'm Mandhe Pacha." He smiled, taking her hand in his. "Bors," he purred, "and I am pleased to make your acquaintance." He bent and kissed her hand, tickling it with his whiskers. She giggled. They walked a while longer, neither saying anything, though it was a companionable silence. Finally, Mandhe asked, "So why did you attack us? I heard something about your... sister?" "Aye," Bors nodded, looking sad. "Minu. She and many others of my family have disappeared, seemingly with no trace. Not even a scent trail." He gestured at the tall trees beside them. "Strange beings have entered the woods, and shortly after their arrival, my people started to vanish." He looked warily into the shadows, as though expecting to be attacked at any moment, then back at Mandhe, apologetically. "Since I've never seen anyone like you before, except for Quin, I thought you might have been one of them." "I guess I can see that," she admitted. "I just don't like feeling helpless. I don't like to be at anyone's mercy like that. So, when you were on top of me, and I couldn't reach any of my stuff, I just..." He nodded. "Aye. Again, I apologize." "I accept," she said, "so you can stop doing it." She smiled to take any sting from her words. Then she lay her hand on the soft fur of Bors' shoulder. "Don't worry," she said, "Kel will be able to help you find your sister, and everyone else. He'll get to the bottom of this. It's what he does." Bors looked at her hand on his shoulder, then, before she could take it away, covered it with his own. He looked into her eyes. "And you?" he purred, "What is it that you do?" Mandhe blushed, making no move to take her hand away. "Oh," she whispered, her voice husky, "I can do lots of things." Bors purred and grinned. Were it not for his fur, he would have blushed as well. Instead he gestured at the rest of the group, who had gotten far ahead of them. "We should catch up... to the others," he said, clearing his throat. Mandhe nodded, making a show of adjusting her pack on her shoulder. "Yes," she said, "yes, let's do that." They walked a little faster, but kept close together, and remained deep in conversation for the rest of the journey.

  Lost City of the Cat People

  The trees grew thicker as they walked, soon becoming so dense as to obscure any remnant of a path completely. They were, in fact, required to stop at one point, the trees having become an impenetrable wall before them. Quin smiled at Kel. "Here we are," he said. "Where?" Kel looked around. Quin laughed. "Oh, do consider it, Kel," he teased. "The vanishing path, a wall of trees... in fact, look closely and you'll see great thorn bushes growing among the roots and trunks." Kel looked, and was rewarded by the very sight Quin described. He looked over at the old Gunfighter, raising an eyebrow. Quin sighed, shaking his head. Then, looking up at Kel, he explained, as though to the feeble-minded, "Secret entrance." "Ah," Kel nodded. "Of course." He gestured to the mass of vegetation before him. "No doubt there is some inconspicuous knot, or bit of bramble that, when properly turned, reveals our destination." "Nothing so quaint," Quin replied, "though you have the idea of it. It is more this sort of thing." He walked up to the tree in front of him, then vanished into it. Kel's mouth dropped open and he went to examine the tree. It seemed real and sturdy enough. As he reached up to touch the bark, Quin's hand shot out of the trunk and pulled Kel through. Once on the other side, Vega's Champion saw that Mandhe and the other cat folk had entered through another. Behind him was a blank wall made of some strange hard material. Of the thick forest, there was no sign. Then he turned around. A grand city spread out before him. Solid stone and lush parkland mixed seamlessly on the ground, while towering structures of steel, glass and more of that odd material grew toward the sky. Small airships moved among the buildings, all piloted by humanoid cats of varying pelts. Other cat people walked at ground level or along raised walkways, often jumping from one to the other with the peerless grace all felines possess. A hint of movement to his right pulled Kel's gaze from the wondrous sight and he turned to see Bors, Kit and the others all donning an assortment of clothes. Bors wore a simple tunic and leggings while Kit donned an elaborate gown. Tia and Al both clad themselves in livery with a definite military style. Noticing Kel's curious look, Tia smiled at him. "We go naked into the wild," she explained, "to better become one with it. We give over a bit to our animal natures, to better enable us to outwit our adversaries." She slid a helmet over her head, molded to allow room for her pointed cat's-ears. She belted on a gun and long knife, then urged Kel and the others to follow. Al fell in step with her, Bors stayed near Mandhe, while Kit walked on ahead of all of them. She stood at the edge of the artificial cliff and waved her arm, her long flowing sleeve acting as a flag to summon a man driving a floating platform. His fur was white with grey spots and a thick line of black across his eyes. He docked his platform with the cliff side and opened a gate in the tall railing around the edge of his vehicle. "Princess Kit," he bowed his head, "welcome back to civilization." "Delighted to return, as always, Pilot Gander," Kit laughed, stepping onto the platform. She gestured to the others to join her. "We would be conveyed with all haste to the palace." Pilot Gander bowed again. "At once, Princess." He shut the gate and disengaged from the cliff's edge, taking them up over the brilliant spires of the city. They made for the tallest structure, part of a great sprawling complex in the city center. Among the bipedal felines, large four-legged cats also walked, and it was clear they were every bit the equal of their two-legged brethren. "What's going on?" Mandhe asked Bors, smiling at her wondrous surroundings. "Who is she?" She pointed at Kit. Bors smiled back at her, though it was strained. "That is Princess Kit," he explained, "first of our Queen's current offspring. She, as was the first of each litter that preceded her, is the public face of our ruler." "I don't understand," Mandhe said. "I know," Bors said, "but the explanation will have to wait. We approach the palace." "Palace?" Bors nodded, pointing. "Look there, Mandhe," he said, "and be the first of your kind to look upon the Palace of Her Immortal Majesty, Sa'raa, Queen of the Cats."

  A Threat Revealed

  Jexter Brill sat at the edge of his bed, cleaning his gun. He was to be part of the High Queen's honor guard tonight, and escort to the debate. He rolled his eyes. From what he'd seen of the High Queen of late, they'd be lucky if she didn't drool on herself and babble incoherently. Of course, from what he'd heard of this Professor Jat fellow, that one was more likely to deliver a sermon than any sort of rational debate of the issues. Jexter still wasn't sure what he thought of this new religion sweeping Amorlia. He was 28, born well after the Revelation, and he'd been brought up to revere reason, intellect and the code of personal responsibility. To put one's faith in some invisible omniscient superior being flew in the face of all he was taught. Oh, he knew the Spark was real enough. It powered all their machines and gave the superhumans their powers. He slid a thick piece of crystal into its place in his gun, smiling. He even fired Spark right out of his gun. He knew it was real, but he'd never thought of it as intelligent. Worshipping the Spark seemed as ridiculous as worshiping lightning or fire. He shrugged. For all that, Jat Loren had gathered sufficient followers that he was able to occupy an entire town with no threat of reprisal from the Pacifica. He was censured by the Council of Mayors for his actions, of course, but no one tried to remove him by force, or even strike him from the ballot. No, it was hands-off Professor Jat Loren. Professor Jat had powerful friends. Jexter was placing his reassembled gun in its rack at the foot of his cot when Captain Kai Moxen strode into the barracks. Jexter and the other soldiers of the Pacifica jumped to attention, fists over their hearts in salute. "As you were," Kai said, standing in the middle of the room. She looked around at the men and women, a hard smile on her face. "As you know," she said, "some of you have been chosen to escort the High Queen
to the debate tonight. I'm here to tell all of you to be on your guard." She looked at each soldier chosen for escort duty in turn. "Something is wrong, and I believe her Majesty is in danger." "From what, ma'am?" a young woman spoke up from the back of the room. Kai shook her head, "I don't know for certain. Just be alert," she cautioned, "and ready for anything." "We always are, ma'am," another soldier called out. Others grunted their affirmative. Kai smiled. "I know it," she said. "Carry on then," she said with a wave as she walked out.