Pain Stones (Coalescence Book 2)

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Pain Stones (Coalescence Book 2) Page 14

by P. S. Power


  The tiny, and sleepy, looking lady came out, dressed up in a light, pale blue, sleeping gown. It was nearly see through, of course. Looking at him with one brown eye, the other closed as she looked at him from the door to her office workspace, she just nodded.

  “I see. You’ve finally come to loot this place. A good plan. May I ask why, or is it just looking for coin? In that case… I really don’t have much here. We don’t use it most places I go.”

  “I need a compressor? To make focus stone.” He waved his hands, then wrinkled his nose. It was meant to look cute, but just had him regarded down a rather delicate nose. “The people from the IPB and some other worlds have come and will need to get to the events later in the day, so I was thinking of making some Tam-cars for the day, rather than coming to bother you about that? Except that now I’m here and you’re awake, so…” It made more sense for him to get them from her.

  To him anyway.

  The woman managed to open both eyes then.

  “That is a plan of merit. Let me… I think that you should make them in the King of Noram’s colors, but with a sign that marks them as being for the foreign dignitaries. That probably means that they’ll need to be able to alter in color and size. Fast enough, but not too fast for in city work. Call it thirty miles per hour? Especially if people from other worlds will be operating them. Simple controls. Then, the ones I make already have that kind of thing. Yes… Take from that to start with. You have… Well, that will take you about four hours, doing it as a novel build. You have three. I want one hundred of them in that time. Starting… Well, I won’t be mean. As soon as you have the tiles ready. I’d use that time to plot things out and look at the base unit for Tam-Cars first.”

  She moved to a box that was filled with tiles identical to the one he had with him from Clemance, then handed it over to him.

  “There you go. It’s not as nice as the one you have on you. I want improvements, but with control. The design has to be good or you will be doing it again. You don’t have time for that. Go!”

  She didn’t even pretend to hit at him, though she pointed at the door down the hallway, which would take him outside.

  “Hurry!”

  Willum got the idea, and even if it was a pain in the ass, which he didn’t need at all that day, he moved as fast as he could, working out what would really be needed, then looking at the field on the new amulet carefully. Not activating it at all. The idea was all there after all. All the time. Activating it just brought it out for people to see. The field itself was always sitting right there, worked into the stone.

  That was the portion he needed to understand. Capturing it wasn’t that hard, but there were changes that had to be made, since he knew for a fact that Aunt Taman would make him do it again if he didn't get it right to her specifics the first time. It was her part in things, making sure he learned to do what was needed. Even if it wasn’t really.

  Rather than risk the time, he plotted what was needed as he moved to the side and got some dirt, then cut the squared bit of smooth glass that resulted from his efforts into thin slices. It had to be done several times to have enough of the things. Then he sat, right there on the dirt, ignoring the fact that it had started to rain.

  The world shrank away from him as he focused everything he could on what was needed. Trying to do it so well that it was like making a copy, instead of something brand new and complete. It was, really, but it could be done, he thought. If he could focus hard enough, which, thanks to three thousand or more years in the void between worlds doing nothing but that, he really could.

  Still, he didn’t notice he was finished until something in his environment changed on him. That was his loving Aunt slapping him. At least he thought that was what was going on, when he opened his eyes, the tan tiles in his lap, held in place by his hands, he got that it wasn’t that taking place at all. She was there, but not slapping him with her light-colored hand at all. No, she was kicking him, over and again. In the head.

  Even at that he was barely moving.

  Holding up a tile, she set her right foot back on the ground.

  “There you are. You probably don’t need to work that deeply most of the time. You’ve been done for a while now. On the good side, if these work at all, they’ll last. Decades, probably. If not, then we have junk, but that’s everything in life as far as magic goes. Now, instead of waiting to soothe your nerves on the matter, let’s…”

  She moved back several steps. Her clothing had changed to a black velvet pair of slacks, which flowed loosely, and a bright red, but very loose, shirt. Her boots were nice and sturdy seeming. She looked at the sigil and grunted. It was in full color, but not a proper design. It was, he hoped, just what the device would look like when it came out. Purple and black, with a space in the back for a sign, name or even a flag to be placed. Other than that, it could change color, and if he did it right, it could become about five times larger on command of whoever was at the controls.

  The tap on the front did get a flying vehicle to come out. Floating, anyway. About two feet from the ground. The tile lifted out of the woman’s hand, her fingers being pulled a little bit, to become part of the front of the thing. That wasn’t part of all craft designs, but a lot of them did that, for safe keeping. Taman hadn’t mentioned it at all.

  Her hand touched the side for a bit, as if she were considering the build carefully. Then the tiny wizard climbed in the front, closed the door with a wave of her hand, which was how the thing was meant to work, then changed the color ten times. In the end it was in gold and white, with decorations worked in, so that the panels on the side seemed like carved bone. After that, she drove away. It all took about five minutes.

  When she got out, she let her head move from side to side.

  “Eh… It’s not horrible. It will serve for today. I want something better by next week. Something small, easy to use, but that can also house a family of four, while they travel. It needs to be simpler than a fast craft, however. The kind of thing that we can give to a farmer or miller, without them being robbed for their high end magics.” The look she gave him was very strange, then.

  The sense coming off of her was nearly evil seeming. Except that it was clearly being faked up and projected at him. An attempt to influence how he was thinking about her.

  Blinking a bit, still feeling a little groggy from his incredible focus on what he’d been building, Willum carefully collected the tiles from his lap and stood up.

  “This is a trick, of course. There isn’t a real way of making magic like that and have it be changeable, but also something people would be able to ignore. Not thieves, anyway. Which means…” He didn’t really have a good low magic answer. Making the new craft seem like a regular wagon wouldn’t work very well. Even one that put out horses to fool the eye of watchers wouldn’t totally be safe.

  After a moment, he shrugged.

  “What if… Instead of hiding that the people have the magics, what if I made it so that the tiles would always return to the owner’s hand? Near them, anyway. Then if it was stolen, it wouldn’t stay that way. That would be complex.” Almost insanely, if he had the tile doing the processing on things like that.

  Taman laughed and shook her head a bit.

  “That… It really isn’t bad, but the idea is to keep it simpler than that. I think I overplayed things here… I just want you to make something that we can give out to common folk without them being an instant target. Work on it?”

  Soam didn't need things like that. In that, more or less there was no real theft there. People just used things and put them back, so that everyone else could use them later. If they used the things up, then whoever did it almost always worked to replace their portion and a little more. So they always had food collected and things were built over time, without anyone working too hard. If he made magical craft or wagons for them, the things would be safe.

  He glanced at the craft in front of him, which was currently white and gold, marking it as bel
onging to the King of Noram.

  “Or… We could make them all look alike, so that everyone knew they belonged to the government in the area they were in. If I do it right, there won’t be a way to change that, so… Maybe?”

  The small woman next to him tilted her head, then nodded.

  “That could do it. By next week. Now, I have to go and stand by a stage in Noram, since my protegee made a halfway decent new river for their wall there. I’ll be there, but need to change first. You can handle the rest of this?” She meant the tiles, with their transport devices on the things.

  He figured it was possible, actually. He needed a few people that could drive them, but the controls were going to be really simple, which probably meant that most of the IPB could actually figure it out. He didn't know about the ones from Eve Benson’s world. They had vehicles there, he thought.

  In fact, he knew that, having seen battle there not long before. Tanks, planes and trucks had all been visible. The controls were very different, since what he’d designed was just a simple bobble that you moved around, not a control wheel or stick, but it was very similar to using a mouse on a computer. That would give people a place to start.

  “I have this, I think. I’ll get with you if I need my hand held? You know, if I get too lonely or feel sad.” He was teasing, since none of those things was going to be happening. Not just because he didn’t have those emotions going on at the moment. It wasn’t the kind of thing that he did now if he felt lost or alone. That was all.

  Really, he never actually had. Even when he was just a wood working apprentice in Pine Creek, who cleaned up the horse droppings on the street most days. For his entire life, he’d taken care of things for himself first, asking for help only when it was the last available option.

  Which might not have been lost on his Aunt. It was really hard to tell, since all of the thoughts and feelings from her locked down hard at about that point. Nothing came from her at all, which was worrying. It meant, Will guessed, that she was thinking of things that she didn’t want him to know. Probably that she was worried about his state of mind. That was fine though, more or less.

  The tiny woman locked eyes with him, seeming almost stern. A thing that didn’t actually fit her normal manner of being at all. It had been what she’d tried to show him over the last weeks however. Probably meaning it was part of his training.

  “Good. I’ll be going over the outcomes here. Do it right.”

  Then she stomped off. Acting as if she were mad, instead of whatever it was that needed to be hidden from him to her way of thinking. It was probably that she believed his mind was going. That or she was concerned that he’d melt down after all the fights and battles of the last weeks.

  Walking away, heading toward the red box, he realized that he hadn’t even mentioned the attack that had come up in Eve’s world. If it was one. That part, thinking about that, got him to stop in place for a moment, nearly tripping when it happened. The stone under his feet wasn’t rough or anything, it was simply that Willum understood that he didn't know what he thought he did.

  The man had come through the node. There were several ways to do that kind of thing, of course. The one that he used, twisting space at the weak point, like a line walker, was the most common one. There were machines that could punch holes in places as well, of course. Those didn’t seem to need node points at all. Some powerful beings, ones that lived in other worlds, could do that as well.

  Even there, in his world, they had magical craft that could do that. It was essentially what a Jump Ship actually did. The transport boxes as well. So the old seeming fellow walking through that spot seemed like it meant he was a line walker, if not a familiar one, but it didn’t mean that for certain at all.

  Then, the man had come at him, waving a line of light. It had been a pale green, being see through, like the guide light on a cutter. The shield had handled it perfectly, the light bending and scattering away, but that didn’t mean it was a specific kind of magic. Or magical at all. It could have been a machine created thing of some kind, for instance.

  For that matter, the man might not have been one at all. He could have been a machine, or some other kind of being. Possibly even a woman. Some beings could have made themselves seem like anything, if they wanted.

  What Will did know was that the being, or whatever it was, had made a move at him that seemed like an attack, then instantly moved back when it didn’t work. There was no attempt at making a second attack at him, just an instant move back and away from him.

  Also, Willum hadn’t reacted at the time. That was odd, but not impossible. He tended to be quick, but wasn’t the fastest being in any reality. Eve however was very close to that, and she’d just stood there as well. Not reacting for some reason. Just like he hadn’t.

  It meant something. Willum just didn’t know what.

  Heading to the box, he slipped the tiles into the fake grass bag on his side, where most of his magic was carried, day to day. That reminded him to go and get some gold, which was most available in Human Zack’s world. He had to hurry to make that happen, since ten minutes doing that would be over an hour of time away from his world. That was time he didn't really have to lose, at the moment, since it was closing in on the ceremony he was supposed to attend.

  Smiling, he shrugged. He could either do it all, or not.

  He ran then, grabbing gold from a vault that he owned in another world. It was a vast thing, and nearly filled to the top with coins, gems and a few things that he didn't know about at all. Scrolls and books that probably meant something. He just needed metal and something to carry it in. Thankfully there was a good-sized chest in the cave. Inside was a lot of metal, though the coins were from different worlds. Several of them. There was gold, but silver and copper in there as well.

  Taking that, lifting and carrying by hand, he moved through the hole in space he was holding open, into the void, and then the box next to his new home. Just in time for a wagon to pull up.

  That looked to be real, being slightly dusty in color, made of untreated wood. It was pulled by two donkeys, the one on the left seeming to be an older girl. The more youthful one was darker, and actually looked at him questioningly. So did the man who was riding on the top.

  “Hello! I’m the local tax collector. This is right on the edge of the taxable region for the city.” The man, who had a white beard and enough honesty coming from him that he was clearly telling the truth and not rob him of the tax funds, winced a bit.

  The reason for that, Will was able to read from his field. He was afraid that there would be an argument about the placement, since the tower itself was technically just outside that line. The new portion of the building was in the city zone for that.

  “Ah! Good then. I’d like four sections, if that’s all right? For as long as I’m allowed to pay ahead for them? That should let me extend things here. I need a wall, and might put up a small river around the place. A flying one? This is my place… I’m Will Baker.” He didn’t know if the name was going to be needed, or if that was enough room at all. If he used more, it was likely that the man here would come and let him know about it.

  The fellow smiled then, and nodded, since it wasn’t a problem to do that at all.

  “We can set that up! Baker… I have two other large plots being rented to people with that name. Closer to the city for each. Being out here is a good plan. You get peace and quiet, as well as better tax rates. A silver five per plot, per year. It’s near a gold per plot closer in, so this is a good value.”

  Will had to set the large box down, since it had enough gold and silver in it to take both hands to hold up. The man looked away as the coins were gathered from it. The tradition was to give coins in a bag to carry them, but he didn’t have anything like that on him. Not a real one. What he did have was a floating case. Ten of them, so, sighing and not wanting to insult the man at all, he got one out, made it into something nice and handed over the control talisman, with the six silver inside
.

  “Sorry, I’m just getting set up here, so I don’t have a proper sack for you.”

  Given that the floating boxes cost about twenty gold each, the man didn’t seem that upset. His only issue was that he was tempted to replace it with a cloth bag. Then he could keep the thing for himself. They were very useful, and could be sold for enough to make it worth doing.

  Technically that was theft though, since the box had been given to the King for the payment. It left the man feeling torn inside. Oddly enough, it felt to Will like the part of good and right was winning out. Tilting his head, he shrugged.

  Then he passed the man a second box.

  “For you. This isn’t a tip, payment or bribe. Just a gift. You should report it to whoever needs to know that kind of thing.” He bowed, but didn't go very low, since he wasn’t trying to get the man into bed.

  He seemed a bit shocked, but took the thing, bowing back.

  “Thanks be to you, then. This is a surprise. Are you certain…” He held the thing out, tentatively offering it back. Not that he wanted to lose it.

  Willum waved that away.

  “That’s for you. Thank you for coming all the way out here. Now, I get a receipt?” That was coming from the man himself, who hadn’t really forgotten. It was part of his job. He just wasn’t totally certain that Willum hadn’t just bribed him to do something.

  It wasn’t the case. Not directly. The truth was that having a government official in his pocket was a good idea. It probably was in almost every world, if he could manage it.

  The man worked, using his wagon as a writing platform, working quickly, and blowing on the ink to get it to dry on the parchment before handing it over.

  “There we go, sir. Paid for the next year, in advance. Smart that. In my thirty years doing this work, I’ve never seen the taxes go down, only up. If that happens, you’re saving coin. It like as won’t, but you never know. We’re getting a new river and who knows what that kind of thing costs?”

  That got Willum to snort a bit.

 

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