Mad Tinker's Daughter

by J. S. Morin

  “This is to be a mission to a far-off place. Soon, a spot along that wall will part and you will see into another world. We go there not as conquerors or looters, but as rescuers. This is to be the greatest mission of mercy that has ever been known. I hear the low grumbles among you already. ‘Another world,’ he says. Yes. I will not bore you with the ‘how’ of it, except to say that it is by the miracle of science, and the greatest machine I have ever built.

  “You will be the first men to set foot in another world. Though your children and grandchildren may think your tales wild, you will have tales to tell. I do not ask whether any of you wish to change your mind and back out; I did not hire a coward among you. You are all equal to this task.

  “I must tell you what you will see when the hole between worlds opens. You will find a world not so different from this one. There will be people there who you will recognize; they are my lieutenants, my confidants. You will see another Cadmus Errol there, though I go by a different name. We have conspired, he and I, to work this rescue between worlds. It is on the other side that you will see the device that makes this travel possible. You will obey the other version of myself as you would me.”

  There was a general grumbling that grew loud enough that Cadmus couldn’t wave his arms hard enough to quiet them.

  “What is it?” he shouted.

  The assembled soldiers began barking complaints in a great pandemonic garble. Cadmus put his hands to his ears, sparing a quick point at one of the nearer soldiers. “You, what is it?”

  “You aren’t coming?” the soldier shouted. The ones around him quieted down as the others heard their own objection voiced for Cadmus to hear. “You’re sending us off, piss-knows-where, and staying here?”

  Cadmus took his hands from his ears. He felt the flush, the quickening of his breath, and gritted his teeth to hold himself in check. He strode over to the man who had spoken. The soldier stood his ground but tried to shrink down inside his uniform; those around him shuffled away discreetly.

  “I’ve never been accused of cowardice before,” Cadmus growled. Though the soldier stood half a head taller and was built for pulling a plow, he couldn’t look Cadmus in the eye. The Mad Tinker glared up, his seething breath tickling the chin and neck of his subordinate. He grabbed the rifle from the man’s hand. “You want me to take one of these, and march along with you?”

  The rumbling in the ranks seemed to think it a fine and proper idea.

  “Fools!” Cadmus shouted. “I am there. I’ve lived my life there, as much as I have here. I’ve risked death and worse to bring this plan to its culmination, while you’ve lived safe and easy on my coin. The world you are about to enter knows no such luxury as you have known. It is no fit place for men to live, and if anything, it is worse for our women. When you see me on the other side, that is me. It will take too long to explain, so I will just have to show you.”

  The door slid open behind him and two of Cadmus’s twinborn lieutenants entered. Orris Fisher and Reginol Tucker were among the few who could keep aware in both worlds at once. They would be able to help him coordinate from Tinker’s Island.

  “It’s about time you two got here,” Cadmus said. “The troops are getting restless.”

  Orris bowed his head. “My apologies, Cadmus. I’ve got a lot of distractions on the other side. We’ve stolen a few guns and fortified the fishery, but the Korrish are getting restless waiting.”

  “You’ll be among the first. Not to worry.”

  Tucker handed Cadmus a vial of clear liquid. “Careful with this stuff. I’ll keep a hen’s watch on you, but it’ll wake you up.”

  Cadmus took the vial and tilted it back and forth. There wasn’t so much as a swallow of the liquid inside. He popped the cork and smelled a chemical odor. “How much?”

  “It’s portioned out. You drink all that.”

  “This better work,” Cadmus muttered. The crowd watched in a restless silence.

  “I wouldn’t try it often, but it helped me wake in both worlds,” Tucker said. “Bottoms up!”

  Cadmus took a deep breath and threw back the vial. He knew that it was made from a type of cactus that grew on the islands of Silk Waves, but he’d never tasted cactus. It was bitter. He doubted he could have swallowed it if he’d stopped to think first. There was an aftertaste before he’d even had time to dwell on it.

  He wiped his lips on his sleeve and handed the vial back to Tucker. “How long?”

  Cadmus swayed on his feet and the entry chamber of the mine changed shape, growing wider in whatever direction he looked. He blinked to try to correct for the effect, but to no avail. Tucker and Orris took him by the arms and guided him to one of the walls of the cavern where he collapsed to a seated position.

  “Not very long at all...”

  Erefan awoke sputtering and blinking, his gaze scanning the workshop and finding that geometry was working much better in Korr than in Tellurak at the moment. He had a nagging awareness of Cadmus, but beyond that, his vision was clear.

  He walked to the kitchen area and stuck his head beneath the cold tap to drink. He felt a hangover brewing and wanted no part of it. The water tasted of metal; there were hints of chlorine, copper, and iron, substances he knew far better than the spices the cooks put in his food. It was impure water, nothing like the crisp, clean flavor of the water from the springs on Tinker’s Island. It was odd, but he suspected he would miss Korr’s water.

  There was no time for wistfulness. Some wandering fancies of Cadmus’s must have been wafting through his mind. Erefan stretched as he made his way over to the world-ripping machine, and cracked his knuckles as he sat down. The first few coordinates he had etched into his memory; he had no need to consult the log book.

  With jittering hands, Erefan dialed in the location of Tinker’s Island. The view in the machine was desolate: just grey, lifeless rock and the rusted out hulks of abandoned buildings. He twisted the dial that controlled which world the machine displayed. The scene went wobbly, then dissolved into a haze of blue and white whorls, then went dark. It was not that the screen was not displaying, it was that there was nothing to show, and it showed that nothingness in perfect detail. As Erefan’s dial approached the proper setting for Tellurak, the whorls faded back into view— then a garbled, indistinct landscape— then home.

  Erefan took the fine adjustment dials in hands and guided the view until he had brought it into the mine tunnels, where his soldiers awaited their promised miracle. When he was satisfied that the machine was properly aligned Erefan delivered.

  The switch felt slick in his sweating hand, but when he pulled it the dynamo screamed and the view in the machine altered. It was as if a film of oil had been coating the view and a trickle of water poured in the center had just forced the oil aside, leaving it clear. Erefan could hear the shouts of fear and amazement. The earthy scent of Tinker’s Island mingled with the ozone and grease that permeated Kezudkan’s workshop. Erefan stood from the controls and walked to the hole linking Korr and Tellurak.

  “Welcome!” he shouted, the Kheshi word fitting strangely on his Korrish-speaking tongue. “Brave men of Tellurak, today we save our brethren! Step through.”

  Most of the men hung back in fear, but a few among them had true bravery—or more curiosity than sense; it was all the same to Erefan. Those few ventured down the short stretch of mine tunnel and stepped across the barrier of worlds, rifles in hand but forgotten in an overwhelmed sense of wonderment.

  “Orris, Tucker, keep things in line back there!” Erefan shouted. To the first dozen men through the world-hole, he pointed and said, “You men, come with me.”

  Erefan stormed down the length of the workshop, his soldiers keeping pace, but with their eyes agog. He stopped with his hand on the door. “We haven’t time for sight-seeing. We are rounding up the servants in this estate. None of them speak your language, so I’ll do the talking. Treat the unarmed gently—they’re innocents. The bearded ones I’ll be negotiating with. If you see an
y of them raise a gun, shoot first.”

  They swept the halls, taking cooks, maids, and butlers in tow. Each time they encountered one, Erefan told them the same thing. “This is a robbery. You’re being stolen. You don’t belong to Kezudkan anymore. Come with me.”

  There were objections and arguments from some, but they were brief. Erefan was given a great deal of authority over the household slaves, and his word was to be obeyed when it didn’t conflict with Kezudkan’s orders. Though Erefan’s actions were clearly crossing the line into the red area of this gauge, he was also backed by a dozen armed humans. It was an inelegant manner of debate, but it had a storied history of success.

  As they finished clearing the ground layer of the estate, Erefan drew the assembly to a halt. By gesture, he divided the soldiers into two groups. “The security posts will be manned by two guards apiece. You lot take the one on the left as we approach. The rest of you, the right. Keep to your assignments for each security post. I’ll be speaking a language you don’t understand, so concentrate solely on threat, not words. Each guard gets a chance, but I’m just as happy seeing them dead.”

  The Telluraki soldiers gave quick, military nods to acknowledge the orders. It was a comfort to Erefan that they had gotten over their bout with cowardice and were acting like soldiers once more. Just needed to give them a problem they could point a rifle at.

  He patted his hand toward the ground as they approached the estate’s Layer Five exit. The group slowed and quieted down. The few hushed conversations among the household slaves grew silent. Erefan hammered the butt of his fist against the door.

  “It’s me. I need something in town. I’m coming out,” he called through the iron double-doors. He had never given them much thought, but he noted the fine ironwork, the gloss of oil that kept the rust away, the irregularity of the geometric pattern whose rule he could not identify. He waited for a response, but none was forthcoming.

  He pounded on the door again. “I said it’s—”

  “We heard ya,” came a reply muffled by three inches of iron. “Patron said you’re ‘sposed to be down in the workshop. You need somethin’ in town, you send Arfin or Chaimes.”

  Erefan turned around and saw Arfin among his growing throng. He jabbed a finger in the man’s direction. Arfin’s eyes widened and the balding skeleton of a butler pointed a questioning finger at himself. Erefan nodded, pointed to Arfin with emphasis and then to the door.

  “Um, yes, I’m here,” Arfin called out with a tremor in his voice.

  “Let him out,” Erefan said. “I don’t need to go, just make sure he brings back a roll of copper wire.”

  “All right. All right,” came the weary reply.

  There was a metallic squeak as the outside bolt to the door was thrown. It was not uncommon for slave households to have their locks outside the doors. Erefan waved his troops nearer the door, and grabbed it as soon as it parted.

  Erefan was puny by kuduk standards, but a hearty effort and the element of surprise allowed him to yank the door free of the guard’s grasp. His soldiers took the cue and brought rifles to bear as soon as they caught sight of the kuduks.

  Erefan could make no judgment as to whether the Tellurakis ever knew their enemies were not human. Thicker featured and coarser haired, a kuduk did not look as alien as a daruu. The prospect of a human passing for kuduk was the primary reason that kuduks wanted nothing to do with bearded humans. There was no hesitation, no sign that there was some element at play that was entirely otherworldly. There were just two kuduks with twelve rifle barrels pointed their way.

  “What the—” one of the kuduk guards raised his weapon and Erefan was momentarily deafened by the reports of a dozen rifles. Both kuduks fell dead. Erefan ignored the gore and noted that both were equipped with three-barrel roto-rifles that looked brand new. Obviously Kezudkan’s financial troubles had not yet ruined his credit, and the old daruu was paranoid about protecting the world-ripping machine as its activation drew near.

  “Probably didn’t need to kill both, but no harm I suppose,” Erefan said, his own voice muted and echoing in his ears. He waved the native Korrish over and switched to their language. “Drag them inside and wash the blood off the door stoop.”

  The rest of the estate went much the same. Erefan’s contingent of household staff grew until he had accounted for every slave Kezudkan owned. He summoned soldiers from the world-hole and stationed them at every entrance.

  Cadmus sat bemused, watching through unfocused eyes as Erefan stalked the halls of Kezudkan’s house like a conqueror. He was there, but felt detached. He sat against the man-carved stone of a Telluraki mine wall, but his feet moved over daruu sculpted floors. His lips were still, but he heard his own voice escape him. He tried holding his breath and pursing his lips, but the sounds came anyway. The Mad Tinker giggled.

  Tucker chuckled. Cadmus lolled his head to the side to get a view of his patronizing lieutenant. “Help me up.”

  “Sorry, Cadmus. That stuff took your head and ran off with it. Let Erefan handle things.”

  Cadmus waved a hand dismissively, leaving several hands in its wake. He waited for them all to catch up to the original before speaking. “Just need ... moment. Got something ... retrieve. We’ll ... right back.” He put a hand back to the wall and pushed against the floor with his feet. His shoes slipped against the stone with no angle to gain purchase. The floor sloshed away like ocean waves for his efforts.

  “Easy now. Easy,” Tucker cooed to him. Even in his inebriated state, Cadmus recognized condescension. A crane hooked him beneath the arm and raised him to his feet. The crane threw his arm over Tucker’s back; Cadmus looked upward but couldn’t catch a glimpse of it before it retreated into the stone. The ceiling of the chamber rose a thousand feet into the sky, and pulled the sun inside.

  Snap out of it, Cadmus. It’s a lamp. Why anyone would put the sun in a lamp eluded him.

  Cadmus drifted along, flowing on a sluggish breeze. Tucker was floating with him, not even bothering to walk. Cadmus paddled his feet in the air to help propel them. It seemed to help.

  The world-hole seemed magical, but Cadmus shook his head and told himself it was science. Tucker steered them through it, and the stronger smells of the workshop permeated Cadmus’s nostrils. He could smell fear and sleeplessness. There were hints of deception, resentment, and cunning. There was an overpowering odor of crackling freedom, so strong that it stung his nose and made his eyes water.

  He pointed across the workshop, struggling to keep his finger aimed at a bookcase that refused to hold still.

  “Is that where we’re going?” Tucker asked. “That bench over there?”

  Cadmus shook his head. Mistake. He lost all track of where he was pointing. “Book ... case.”

  “The one with the glass doors?”

  “Yesss,” Cadmus managed.

  Tucker guided him to it. The glass doors were yet another world-hole. He could see another Cadmus and another Tucker trapped within. He closed his eyes, saddened by the thought, and promised himself that he would rescue them later.

  “Books ... give books ... Orris. My house. Bring ... bring ... bring.”

  “You want Orris to take these books up to your house?” Tucker asked.

  “Yes. ‘s unlocked.” That was a precaution that Erefan had taken earlier.

  Tucker shouted for Orris to come through the world-hole. A whole chorus of Orrises sang in reply. Cadmus floated back out the world-hole with Tucker, following Orris and his mile-high stack of books, swaying like a tree in a gale.

  “What’s in the books that’s so important?” Tucker asked. Even Cadmus knew that the question was optimistic in his current state.

  Cadmus blew a long breath and tried to think. “Nobody knows. Maybe ... more ... like it ... like this. Machines.”

  Erefan was aware enough of his twin’s actions to be both relieved that the books were safely en route to his personal library in the hands of a capable—and sober—Orris, and to be em
barrassed by the spectacle Cadmus was making. He waited until Tucker had taken Cadmus into the mine before returning to the workshop. He didn’t fancy meeting himself, especially in the current circumstances.

  The halls buzzed with the Kheshi chatter of his soldiers. It was like Telluraki dye seeping into Korrish stone. It was coloring the rock and making it feel like home. Conversations halted as he passed by, out of respect, he liked to imagine.

  He stopped in the kitchens on his way to the workshop. The household slaves had been gathered there and were talking in hushed tones among themselves.

  “What is this all about, Erefan?” Arfin asked. After Erefan, Arfin was highest in Kezudkan’s regard, and managed most of the household’s daily affairs. “Where did those strange men come from?”

  “That’s what Kezudkan’s machine does. It opens a tunnel between one place and another. He’s not here right now, so I invited some friends over; friends who are loyal to me, and who have enough rifles to win any argument we’re likely to have.”

  “But what now? Surely you can’t hold out here? We’re backed into a corner of Eversall.”

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Erefan asked. “I said it opens passages to other places. That’s how we’re leaving?”

  “Leaving for where?” Mifa asked. Delivering Erefan’s meals seemed to make her think she had some standing with him.

  “It would take too long to explain. Just be ready to head out in a few hours. I have more passages to open. It’s going to be getting crowded in here. I’m collecting refugees from all over Korr. Some of them are mechanics. Head down to the workshop in a while if you want those collars off.”

  There were curious looks of horror throughout the kitchen. Most of the slaves instinctively put a hand to their collar.

  “I’ve had this collar all my life.”“What if they catch us? We’ll be executed!”“What if we don’t get away?”“I’d feel naked without it.”“You really mean it?”“What if we don’t want to?”“I don’t think that’s wise.”“What if the patron comes back?”“This all seems crazy.”“Can you make mine removable?”“Melt this rusty thing to puddle, Erefan!”“We’ll starve without an owner!”“Will it hurt to take off?”“Can I be first?”