by Guy Antibes
Panix shook his head. “She’s a pretty thing, but she’s not for me. Anyway, it’s a bit too soon to feel comfortable around another woman.”
“I doubt that. What kind of female is your ideal woman?”
“I don’t know. Someone intelligent, independent and someone who doesn’t think I am a threat to her running her father’s business.” Both men laughed as Panix turned the talk to reliving experiences when Moshin taught Panix self-defense and observation at the Academy.
Panix decided to walk home, flustered at the emotions dredged up by Moshin’s visit. Talking to a friend from home invigorated him, but Moshin’s actions in Helvanna only served to dig up the pain of his father’s loss. The awful implications of his death continued to dampen his spirits.
Moshin’s attempt to be light about Merra’s betrayal only made things worse. He hoped that his responses were adequate, but inside every thought of Merra still felt like the cut of a blade. Would he ever get over the feelings of anger and the hurt of that last confrontation? He knew that he wouldn’t sleep tonight. The vision of that last argument and the feelings of walking in the rain kept running over and over in his mind, even after all this time.
~
Sitting in her nightgown in her darkened bedroom, Lorna thought of Panix bumping into her a few days previous. Why did he bring out the worst kind of behavior in her? She didn’t understand it.
She thought a little harder and realized that she did. He personified the barrier her father created to keep her from running the factory. She knew as much about metallurgy as just about any man and her knowledge came mostly from Panix and a good dose of science of mechanics from Harlan. How ironic. All of the classes she took at finishing school and later at Pent University prepared her to run the metalworks. Her marks were exceptional and she graduated in half the time others did, however the only mark she really needed was a blank one, no magic and Panix had loads of it—much more than the odious Fennel Derrac. Why couldn’t magic be like some kind of disease that she could infect herself with?
Perhaps she needed time to take a break from her perennial campaign to run the factory and relax for a bit. She thought she would call on Willa and see if she was willing to go to her favorite spot, the South Pent tavern. She still saw Baston Blox and Merra at the place. Perhaps Baston’s wife didn’t mind him taking her there. Mrs. Blox certainly knew of the affair, since all of Lorna’s friends did.
She felt a flash of pity for Panix, and then Lorna dismissed it just as quickly. She unsuccessfully fought off a yawn and decided that the time had come to go to sleep.
~~~
Chapter 8
Panix stood in the storage yards, observing the factory belching the smoke and steam that showed Baltac Metalworks busily refining its metals extracted from the Pent Mountains. Panix enjoyed using his powers to assess the ore when his lab manager walked up to him. “Looking at the ore again, Panix? I don’t know why you bother. It doesn’t help you with Baltac.”
“Do you think I care about him noticing? If you do, you’ve read me wrong, Fennel. Looking at the ore is where I got the idea for mixing metals for the alloy. Tell me what you sense out there?” Panix did it himself. He sensed the ore as different colors and tastes, at least this far away.
“I don’t know what you see. I can tell they’re different, but I don’t know how and it doesn’t matter.” Fennel shook his head. Panix could tell the lab manager didn’t believe Panix could sense the difference.
“The pile over there is pure iron. But you can tell that just by the deep red color of the ore. Do you know which one is Dorethite?”
Fennel closed his eyes. He curled his hand in a fist and put it over his heart. Then, keeping his eyes closed, he spread his fingers out towards the piles of ore. “I can’t tell unless I’m close to it. Detecting ore is not something I need to know. The miners test them with chemicals after the magicians have done their jobs in the mines, then the ore comes here all sorted out.”
In his time on the job, Panix had never once met another magician who could see materials like he could. He could close his eyes and point to every pile and recite its composition. Heart to Hand was still the method the Academy taught, but his power let him discern material differences from nearly fifty paces just by closing his eyes so he could concentrate on his senses. Would he ever find someone equal to his skill? He sighed.
“I’ve got to get back to the lab.” Fennel didn’t bother to say goodbye. He just turned around and left, just the way he’d arrived.
Panix watched Fennel go. He wondered why his lab manager had come by. It certainly wasn’t to show him his magical prowess. Yet how much magic was required for his job? Metallurgy wasn’t a specialty magicians clamored for. He picked it because he liked the challenge of looking deep into the ore and his talent for metallurgy produced a job far away from Morven. Certainly Fennel could operate as the chief metallurgist, but would he bring the power to the position? Panix wondered, for the first time, if he had too much talent for the metalworks. He walked to a pile of ore and picked up a fragment, losing himself detecting each different element and letting the separated powders form on his palm.
~
Panix wandered through the maintenance yards looking for his friend, Harlan Gannoc. Others might think him a fish out of water among the valves and gears and spouts of steam, but Panix loved to look into the vessels and see the steam heat up and compress.
“Panix,” Harlan said as he walked up to him with the perennial dirty towel in his hands. “What brings you into the Bowels of Baltac?” Harlan’s bright nature always lifted Panix’s spirits.
“Looking for you. It’s time for the end of your shift, I was wondering if you had a spot of time to share at the Summer’s Wilt before you begin your nightly escapades.” Panix smiled. Harlan liked living his life to the fullest.
Harlan tossed the rag over his shoulders and said, “I’m not one to turn down an invitation from the illustrious scientist.” He gave Panix a little bow as he grabbed his coat from a rack just inside the door to the yard.
As they walked to the tavern, Panix told him about Moshin’s offer.
“I think you should take him up on it. I’m sure I would,” Harlan said as he took a seat and motioned for a barmaid. He ran his fingers through thick blondish hair. “Baltac’s moving in a different direction. His interest in magic is waning. You know he spends more time talking about technology than he does magic these days now that we’ve got better metal-forming machinery.”
“I’ve noticed, thanks to you.” Panix smiled. “He still uses his talent to look at the ore. My alloy might change things, if I can only figure out how.”
“Bah. If someone gave me an offer to go off and do exciting things, I’d be out of here in the blink of an eye.”
“But you are doing exciting things. All of those machines you’ve designed to work metal. I’ve never seen anything like it. Every piece is exactly the same.”
“Patterns. Well, the possibilities are endless, but let me tell you, once I develop a concept and prove it out, the savor is gone. Baltac has excellent technicians to design the parts and make them on the machines.”
“But no magic is involved. You can employ more Pentish labor.”
“Baltac can. I don’t employ or manage anybody. Just like you. And I used to like it that way, but lately...” Harlan took a big pull at his mug of ale.
“Technology is the future, I’m convinced of it,” Panix said. With all of his power, he felt the time was coming when his talent would become passé.
“You’ve got it all wrong, my boy,” Harlan said. “Technology and magic working hand in hand is the future. There is no technology that will make a building last as well as magic-enhanced construction.”
“But it’s so expensive.”
“Panix, you should know that magical innovation hasn’t ceased, it’s just been ignored. Teleportation and those little messaging coins are the only major magical innovations in the last decade and tel
eportation still makes a magician senseless for half a day. Your buddies at the Academy should be working on that.”
“But they do.” Panix knew better than to continue to argue with Harlan for too long. He wondered how much innovation really came out of the Academy.
~
A knuckle rapped at Panix’s office door, disturbing his thoughts. Foald Baltac walked into his office with a fit blond man of later middle age. He cut a fine figure in a roguish sort of way with his hair cut long. The man wasn’t too tall, but had an intense look to his blue eyes.
“Panix, this is Sovell Mortac. He’s our new head of alloy sales.”
Finally, Baltac had hired a new man to promote Panix’s new technology. Panix rose from behind his desk and gestured for the two men to sit at the conference table in his office.
The three men began to talk about the abilities of lesser magicians to work the metal. “I now have four trained to work the alloy. If we double that number, we can begin production,” Panix said.
Sovell just sat there listening to Panix and Foald Baltac talk about how the light metal could change life in Dornna. Items currently made out of iron, bronze, brass, and steel could be made out of the alloy with half the weight and most of the strength.
“It shouldn’t be too difficult to create a plan for promoting this new material. Conceptually, we don’t sell the material itself, we sell the benefits to the user,” Sovell said.
Panix looked at Baltac’s new employee, his eyes lighting up with his words. “Exactly. It isn’t the alloy; it’s what it makes. I hadn’t thought of it quite that way before.” The concept would align well with Moshin’s thoughts on observational context.
All of the men smiled. “It’s the end of the day, why don’t you two spend tomorrow creating a plan of attack.” Baltac rubbed his hands as he rose. “Come Sovell, time to get you a desk.”
After the two men left Panix alone in his office, he sat at the conference table and thought about Sovell. On one hand his excitement knew no bounds. He was excited to get the alloy into as many products as possible. On the other, he couldn’t let slide the feeling that all was not what it seemed with Master Mortac. There was a certain bearing about the man that reminded him of Moshin, like a coiled spring ready to go off at any time.
~
“We can start with items that are currently too heavy for most people to use,” Sovell said. The two were back in Panix’s office. Both had paper and ink, ready to write down notes.
“Cooking pots? The alloy retains heat better than steel and nearly as well as iron. We can make it thicker and it will work even better.” Panix could see where this new vision was headed.
“Yes, a great start.”
A man came to the door and knocked.
“Come in,” Panix said.
Fennel Derrac walked in. “Lord Baltac suggested that three minds might be better than two—and since I head the lab, here I am.”
Panix didn’t believe his claim that it was Foald’s decision. He looked at Sovell, who gave Fennel an appraising gaze. Panix could see that Sovell wasn’t convinced either.
As the three got going, they filled the tabletop with notes of products Baltac’s could offer.
Despite his misgivings about Sovell, Panix saw the creativity and incisive mind of the man. He was forced to admit that he previously didn’t possess the methodology to step through the possibilities that Baltac’s new sales head did. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Sovell’s targeted approach would make the alloy’s introduction significantly less risky.
He mulled over the process as Sovell continued, realizing that the creative technique was every bit as innovative as Panix’s alloy process. It didn’t dawn on Panix that most products worked well enough out of current materials. He thought that the alloy would replace everything, but he was wrong. The largest demand would come from products that needed to be light and strong.
Fennel’s suggestions were few. Some of his comments were useful to Sovell as he took Fennel’s poor suggestions and made them exceptional ones. Panix surprised himself at all of the ideas they produced once he caught on to Sovell’s process.
“Can I go over these with Harlan, tonight? He’ll be able to help determine what’s practical to make on his new machines,” Panix said as they wrapped up.
~
“This is a cast piece. It requires a magician to align the structure to maintain integrity.” Panix held up a small plate to Baltac. “This is a machined piece. Since the alloy is a little softer than the steel, we can use magicians to shape steel tooling that allows the less gifted to use tools to create the same piece using a manual method. For some products it will be cheaper to cast with magic and smaller pieces will be easier to cut from alloy ingots or cast and machine.”
Baltac looked impressed and rather pleased with the process. “Excellent. We can use the alloy without using so much magic. I like that. It helps us keep more Pentish people employed.”
“Right Foald, you have a choice to use whatever means are the most efficient,” Sovell said, nodding his head.
“Choices.” Baltac nodded and grinned. “I like choices!”
After the meeting, Sovell sauntered into Panix’s office. “Let’s go celebrate. The boss likes what we’ve done. I have a meeting, and then let’s have a late bite to eat and have a good time tonight.”
Panix looked at Sovell. He could sense some tension underneath the man’s placid surface, but Panix had no other plans. “I guess we deserve some celebrating. I’ll meet you at the Summer’s Wilt.”
~
Sovell Mortac, known to himself as Sovad Mustak, peered into the falling darkness looking for any signs he was followed. He didn’t expect to see anyone in Pent City, but vigilance was a habit Sovad liked to keep. Pent didn’t have an intelligence agency, it relied on information from Korvanna via the diplomatic mission stationed in Gerell, the capital of its neighbor to the west, Gerellia.
Kornvanna had an agent placed in Pent, but he had received his appointment through patronage and the assessment indicated that the agent was an incompetent. Sovad crept closer to the side door in a wall that circled a rather modest city estate. He tried the latch and true to the occupant’s word, it opened.
Sovad made a circuit of the grounds, finding nothing suspicious, and then he casually strolled to the tradesmen’s entrance and knocked the requested three times. The door opened, revealing a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and vivid blue eyes.
Sovad bowed. “I am Sovell Mortac.”
The woman looked around outside the door as if she stood in a busy street, much to the amusement of Sovad. “Come in, quickly.”
He hopped in as she shut the door quickly behind him. The house certainly wasn’t up to the level he expected for Pent’s mighty foreign minister. As she led him into a parlor, he noticed the decent, but not distinguished paintings on the walls and the serviceable furniture. The rooms were decorated more like a merchant’s house. Then it struck him.
“You aren’t Mrs. Blox are you?”
The woman looked amused. “No, I am the famous mistress, Merra.”
“Forgive me. I am new to Pent and your fame hasn’t quite reached where I am from.”
“Please sit.” She smiled as she seated herself. “Somewhere in Pent, my former husband sadly lies in his cups and I am happy in my cups here.”
Sovad now noticed the woman’s voice was a tiny bit slurred. She had learned to hold her inebriation well.
“However, when I am a very good girl, Baston has no problems taking me to social functions as a member of his staff, but everyone knows.” The front door opened and closed. Sovad and Merra rose.
“Sovell?” Baston Blox said. Sovad recognized the smile and the tone of voice produced for political purposes. “Lorvad Pokkan speaks highly of you.” Baston gave Merra a look. She grimaced slightly and left the room to the two conspirators.
Sovad bowed. “As he does you,” he lied. Two could assume forced amiability. Lorva
d thought Baston could be trusted only when his coffers remained full. They didn’t pay him very much since Pent had held little interest for Murgontia. It still wasn’t politically, but Murgontia required more and more metal and needed better designers. They envied Pent for both.
“Why are you among us? Certainly I can provide all of the information Lorvad needs. There’s a KII agent in the city, but the poor man is hopelessly inept. In any event, I spoon-feed him whatever information I wish Korvanna to know.”
“How good of you.” Sovad paused for effect. “I am here to assess a possible purchase of Foald Baltac’s metalworking factory.”
Blox’s eyebrows raised. “He’s selling? That’s a new development, but not one I believe. The man’s identity is tied up with those metalworks.” The Pent foreign minister sat and Sovad did the same.
“I am here to assess. If we can’t establish diplomatic relations or purchase his firm, Murgontia is prepared to invade Pent. Of course, you will be the Pentish governor.” Sovad heard all he needed to know. Blox knew Baltac wouldn’t sell. The meeting was over, but he would let it go a little longer to soothe Blox’s ego.
“Pokkan’s told me all about that already.” Blox impatiently waved his hand.
“I just started working at Baltac’s recently. I’ll know where we stand better in two or three weeks. In fact I’m to meet Panix Gavid, one of his workers in a few minutes.”
Baston pursed his lips. Sovad looked at Baston’s face. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, not at all. You see, Merra’s name before her divorce was Merra Gavid.”
Gavid, thought Sovad. He’d forgotten about Polla Gavid, living in far away in Mella. Panix, a Pent Gavid, had problems of his own with a rogue who took his wife away. But what if they were related? Perhaps he’d have the opportunity to place himself in Mella in a different time than around his father’s death.
Panix astounded Sovad with his brilliance—much more than Foald Baltac deserved. And Sovad felt a flash of pity for Panix. That was unlike him. He lifted his chin and cast that feeling aside. Assassin’s did not work well feeling pity.
