Keeping a keen eye out for the enemy, he landed deep into the tree line, probably a mile from the estate. He settled quietly, without unleashing his spells to announce his presence. He had considered and discarded numerous combative scenarios, but had eventually concluded that his best chance for quick success was simply to spy out Sarah’s confines, then sneak in and release her. Once she was safe, he could deal with Technology.
After skulking through the heavy shadow of the pine forest for close to an hour, he reached the concealment of a thick bramble of cane just across a narrow, tree-shrouded country lane from the estate. He was less than thirty yards from the six-foot iron fence that surrounded the manicured grounds.
It was immediately and abundantly clear that his original straightforward plan would not work. His original vision of the estate had shown only de Grosivna intently trimming white rose bushes in the spacious ornamental garden with naught but an abbreviated view of the valley and a section of the estate as a backdrop. When he had first identified the place and observed nothing blatantly untoward, he had tarried only long enough to confirm that it was indeed the one shown in his vision and had not engaged in any protracted scrutiny. At some point in the intervening two or three days of uninterrupted time, a company of Esatis had moved in, chopped down the white roses, daffodils, and irises, overthrown the stone benches, blockaded the black iron gates, and built sandbag revetments with clear fields of fire in every direction. The entrances, ground level windows, and second and third floor balconies were also fortified. As if expecting an imminent assault, the heavily armed fanatical technophiles patrolled or stood ready behind the revetments. Many served tripod mounted guns of a sort that Everett had only seen in visions: the revolutionary multi-firing mechanisms that vomited more than one hundred rounds per minute.
Technology had been expecting him.
As he considered possible routes for a brute force frontal assault, a curious party exited the front of the estate: a tall, regal man in a white shirt and trousers who walked in front, an Esati officer bearing a saber at salute, and six troopers in parallel files shouldering long, bayoneted rifles. This parade marched at an artificially stilted cadence down the steps from the columned porch, onto the gravel walk, and then crossed it toward a scarred, upright wooden post fixed incongruously in an oval section of lawn.
The Esatis stopped at ten yards and broke smoothly into a single rank facing the post. As the troopers brought their rifles to port, the leading man stalked toward the post, head high, and turned about when he reached it. At a command, the troopers raised their rifles to their shoulders and took aim. With an arm held stiffly straight, the officer raised his saber at a constant angle and held it high.
It took Everett two seconds to realize that he was about to witness an execution.
It took him barely one more to realize that the condemned man was none other than Baronet Franz Rorche.
THIRTY-THREE
“Give me strength!”
Everett leapt from his place of concealment, soared high enough to catch a brief glimpse of the roof of the mansion, and landed just in front of Rorche as the Esati officer brought the saber down with a flourish.
The six hammers on the leveled rifles snapped uselessly. Reacting instantly, the officer yanked a magic canceling mechanism from his belt and hurled it at Everett.
He strode forward, snatched the mechanism from the air one-handedly, experienced the bone chilling feeling of his magical strength ebbing away, and then pitched it aside, rapidly spitting out the terms to renew his strength spell just as the Esatis re-cocked their weapons and fired again.
When the brittle clacks of another misfired volley rattled down the line, the officer pointed his saber at Everett and shouted, “Charge!”
Everett grabbed the startled Rorche and leapt for the top of the mansion, leaving the rushing troopers to their own devices. He and the technologist alighted on a low-pitched swale between two sheltering, prominent gables, well out of sight of all on the ground.
As soon as the magicker set him down, the Baronet grasped his right hand in both of his and shook it enthusiastically. “Everett, I cannot tell you how happy I was to see you. I had become resigned to my fate, but no man wishes to leave this life with work undone. You have my eternal and limitless gratitude. If ever you are in need of any service that I might--”
“Your welcome. Now, where is Sarah imprisoned?”
“Who?”
“Uhm…Susan.”
“Your sister?”
“She’s not my sister and her name is actually Sarah.”
“I see. I think I understand now. Unfortunately, I must confess that I have not seen her since Edwin took the air carriage. She was not with us when we woke from the potion.”
“I know, but she was brought here last night.”
“I am sorry. She was not placed with I and the others.”
“She's here somewhere and I will find her. What others? I mean, who else from your group is here?”
“Excluding Edwin and his two cohorts, Mitchell and Suzette – you did know that it was the chemist who delivered us to the Zherians?”
Everett nodded. He saw no point in mentioning the chemist’s recent presumed demise or his role in it.
“All of the technicians and tradesmen are here, save for Aldo, who we have not seen or heard from, but all of my esnes and both the magicians, Eylis and Margaret, were taken away and we have fears for their safety.”
“Aldo is dead. Suzette beat him to the draw.”
The Baronet grimaced. “So I had suspected, though I did not mention it to the others.”
Shook by a sudden thought, Everett asked abruptly, “Are the others to be executed too?”
“No, the Minister had me tried before a show tribunal of Generals in this Enlightened Society of theirs for crimes against technology, the particular offense being my refusal to recreate my air carriage schematic. I was found guilty, of course. Minister de Grosvina told me out of earshot of the others that I was to be sacrificed as an example in order to convince them, specifically the Coldridges, to cooperate. It seems he found their engine of greater importance than the air carriage, which he said would soon be replaced by more advanced technology in any event.”
Not at all surprised that the idealistic and egalitarian aristocrat would choose death over cooperation with the Esatis, Everett eschewed comment and concentrated on the task at hand. “Do you know where de Grosvina normally is?”
“I do not know his daily schedule, no, but he always met with me in a large hall in the cellars. It had the trappings of an office.”
“I’ll start there then.”
“Will you be able to release the others?”
“I’ll try. Where are they?”
“On the third floor, just below us.”
“Right. You wait here. Stay out of the line of fire.”
Rorche grinned wryly. “Rest assured that I shall.”
Everett thought a moment, considering how it might be best to proceed. The Esatis were alerted to his presence and clearly making preparations to defend the mansion. He ran the terms of all his spells through his mind, trying to discern some unconventional use that might avail him of a way to disable the soldiers, their guns, or, preferably, both.
Slightly scratchy, highly amplified words interrupted his deliberations. Echoing lightly across the rooftop, the announcement, easily recognizable as the voice of Technology, originated from the ground at the front of the house.
“EVERETT DE SCHAEL, I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU!”
“That is the Minister,” Rorche supplied. “Utilizing, I do not doubt, another of his unique technological marvels. If you were not aware, de Grosivna is a technologist of the highest caliber.”
“I suppose I had better go see what he wants,” Everett replied matter-of-factly. He cast his two Potent spells and bounded into the air.
Dressed in a smartly but conservatively tailored gray suit, Technology waited for him alone in the gra
vel drive, holding a mechanism with a large flared bell at one end.
When he saw Everett, he placed the mechanism to his mouth. “I WISH TO PROPOSE AN ARMISTICE BETWEEN YOU AND I.”
Wary of approaching Magic’s nemesis too closely, Everett arrested his downward arc by recasting his flight so that he remained hovering at about fifty feet.
“For what purpose?” he shouted down.
“TO DISCUSS THE TERMS OF AN AGREEMENT OF NON-INTERFERANCE.”
“Between the Kingdom and the Republic?”
“NO. BETWEEN YOU AND I.”
Everett was immediately suspicious. As far as he was concerned, Technology’s word was worthless. “What surety do you offer?”
“IMMEDIATE RELEASE OF ALL PRISONERS AND EVACUATION OF ALL ARMED PERSONNEL. WILL YOU AGREE TO NEGOTIATE IN GOOD FAITH ONCE THIS IS ACCOMPLISHED?”
Everett frowned. This would achieve his goal, but he believed that negotiating with Technology would be the equivalent of sticking his hand into a rattlesnake nest. Nevertheless, he seemed to have little alternative.
“In the open and beyond range of any of your mechanisms.”
“DONE!” Technology’s corporeal biologic strode into the house, leaving Everett with the distinct impression that he had just been suckered. When his flight expired, he enunciated his strength, hit the ground and bounced back to Rorche.
“De Grosivna has agreed to release everyone,” he told the Baronet.
“So I heard. In my limited experience, he has always appeared the gentleman.”
“He was going to have you shot.”
“But not in a dishonorable fashion.”
Everett snorted to display his contempt for this odd conception. “I’m going to take you to the edge of the woods. If nothing goes askew, I’ll send the rest to meet you there.”
“Very well.” The technologist reached out and shook Everett’s hand again. “Good luck, Monsieur Wizard.”
As he flew back toward the mansion after depositing the Baronet, Everett, following some lengthy thought, made one preparation for his meeting with Technology.
Remarkably, at least to Everett’s way of thinking, the prisoner release occurred with only one hitch: Sarah did not appear with the other former members of the crew of the air carriage. Algis, Ellen, and Josline Coldridge scurried from the house first, blinking as if they had not suffered direct sunlight in days. They were unescorted and Everett shouted directions to take them toward the rendezvous with Rorche. Then Will, Stephan, Harold, Bennett, Beatrice, and Roger all stumbled out in a self-supporting clump and Everett likewise encouraged them on their way. When the released prisoners had vanished into the forest, the company of Esatis, sans armament, debouched from the house, formed up quickly under the direction of two officers, and marched north at double time along the lane. Finally, after a further five minutes, Technology returned to the driveway, once again carrying his voice amplifying mechanism.
“NOW, ARE YOU READY TO NEGOTIATE?”
Everett was only interested in discussing one subject. “Where is Sarah?”
Technology’s doppelganger appeared to do a double take. “I AM NOT SURE WHAT YOU MEAN. MADEMOISELLE MONTE-JAUNE IS NOT MY PRISONER.”
Tired of shouting, Everett let his flight expire and dropped to the ground. No matter what nefarious scheme Technology had in store, there seemed little greater safety in being fifty feet away rather than five. The embodiment of patience, the man known to the rest of the world as Donald de Grosivna tossed his amplifying mechanism aside and smiled as the magicker drew near.
“Excellent! I would much prefer that our conversation be conducted privately. The members of the Enlightened Society can sometimes fail to appreciate the logic of practicality.” The man smirked. “Evil minions can sometimes be such a bore.”
Everett did not crack even a hint of a smile.
De Grosivna cleared his throat. “Well, be that as it may, let’s begin, shall we? Now, my proposal is simple--”
Everett cut him off. “Where is Sarah?”
“My apologies. I believe that there has been some misunderstanding. I have not abducted the mademoiselle. As I once explained to you, the period of time in which control of her person could sway events in my favor has long passed. In point of fact, she ceased being a Primary Pivot once the two of you came west.”
“You’ll gain nothing by lying,” Everett growled. “If you wish to escape this meeting alive, you’ll hand her over right now!”
Technology wagged a finger. “Threats of that kind are rather meaningless. Even should some misfortune occur to this present biologic, my noncorporeal essence will continue to exist. We of the noncorporeal realm are not subject to death in the corporeal sense of the term.”
Everett let a thin and cold smile slide onto his face. “Thanks for pointing that out.”
“Certainly. We are both rational, intelligent beings and should always strive to utilize our intelligence and rationality to resolve our differences. Now, as I was saying, I propose that we declare an end to the hostility between us. I have no specific desire to cause you harm and the manipulation that you have suffered has only resulted in providing you with undue dislocation, unnecessary discomfort, and undeserved pain. I am sure that you will agree that the contest between Magic and myself is not properly now -- and should truthfully never have been -- your affair. I had hoped that the obvious correctness of my cause would persuade you to assist me in my efforts to better humanity through technology, but it does not necessarily follow that we should therefore be at odds. Thus the agreement of non-interference. You have been unfairly involved -- not of my doing I must reiterate -- and you should be allowed to pursue your own goals without further disruption.”
“So, you’re saying, we should just let bygones be bygones?”
“That would be the gist of it, yes. We shall enter into a binding agreement that neither of us will henceforward involve ourselves in the affairs of the other.”
“What about the war?”
Technology displayed a sad face. “Human events of such a magnitude, once set in motion, cannot be easily halted. I will promise that I will do all that I can in this present guise to ameliorate the suffering of the citizens of both the Grand Alliance and the Republic by ensuring that the struggle comes to a swift and decisive conclusion.”
“A conclusion in which the Republic – that is you -- win.”
Technology shrugged. “As the case may be.”
“No thanks.”
“To be clear, I take it that you are rejecting the armistice?”
“Right.”
Sighing, Technology slipped a hand into the inside of his coat and withdrew a pistol. “Unfortunately, I expected this to be your response.”
“You know that won’t work with me,” Everett pointed out, frowning.
With his left hand, the Minister withdrew a small blue box with a single red button and showed it to the magicker with thumb poised. “This device is an enhanced second generation magical dampener. I won’t go into the specifics of the methodology – the particular technology that it utilizes is actually from another universe -- but suffice it to say that this is a significant improvement over its predecessor. The first generation mechanism suffered problems with inconsistency and duration, and the field it generated was entirely transitory. This, however, creates a permanent, magically dead zone that affects everything within a radius of a thousand yards. Once it is activated, magic will not function in this place for all eternity.”
Everett did not move. “Why haven’t you pushed the button? Why didn’t you push it when I showed up?”
Technology smiled apologetically. “Due to some unavoidable and perverse side-effects of indwelling a corporeal biologic, my thought processes have become contaminated by human impulses. With some embarrassment, I must admit I am overcome with the need to gloat.”
“You see,” Technology continued, warming to his subject and driving his voice to a crescendo, “with this single mechanism, I have
devised a way to achieve complete and absolute victory. Once these new dampeners are in mass production, I will be able to scatter them around the entire world and in so doing eradicate magic forever!”
Everett clapped his hands slowly in an overt display of sarcasm.
Technology’s brow creased. “For some reason, your response to my monologue causes me to feel a hint of uncertainty.”
“It should. You forgot the three W’s.”
“Come again?”
“The three W’s. It’s something that Bob told me just a few days ago, though it seems like years.”
Technology looked from side to side as if he had lost his place in some invisible script. “Bob?”
“Nice guy Bob. He doesn’t mind giving a man a ride. He also holds the key to the entire universe.”
“I fail to understand what you are trying to say.”
“Don’t worry, I only put it all together this morning myself and I'm not really sure whether it has always been this way or just changed recently. That doesn't make any difference though, because it’s the way that magic works now. Funny thing: contrary to what I believed most of my life, magic is not actually crap. But back to the three W's. With most of my spells, the what is more or less determined – though I do now also know that there can be a lot of wiggle room in the what – and I have almost free rein in the where, but, and this is the most important part, the when is completely undefined.”
“I do not see how any of these…questions … are relevant.”
“I see what you mean, but there's one question that I'm sure that you'll find relevant.”
“And that is?”
“Can you breathe potato?”
For a moment or two, while a total look of incomprehension seized Technology's face, an awkward silence reigned, and Everett feared he had misjudged the passage of time.
Then, there came a mild rippling sound like soap bubbles popping, and a dozen or so potatoes appeared along the edges of the drive at different elevations and attitudes. These plopped to the gravel, milled about confusedly for a second or two, and then proceeded with accelerating energy to dash, bounce and skip towards Technology. Before the first had traveled more than a yard, hundreds more flashed into existence and the sound of their arrival graduated to the rattle of popping corn. Within seconds, the noise expanded to a continuous roar of ripping static.
Inconvenient Magic 01 - Potatoes, Come Forth! Page 28
