Shadowprey: A Black Foxes Adventure

by Dennis L McKiernan

  “See? Gain? What—?” said Rith.

  “Be quiet and let Me take the first step, for I must hurry.”

  “Wait a moment,” said Arik. “You might be a god, yet—”

  But all ’round the Foxes the ’scape began to waver, the woods sinking down into the ground, and the being said, “You must find the body of Lyssa. Trendel will point the way.”

  Arda vanished, and mist began to form where the forest had been, and the soil below their feet changed as well, hardening, shifting, becoming timber. The stars in the sky whirled and reformed into entirely different configurations, and Orbis shrank and Phemis swelled and a third moon, blood red, appeared, all moving in a stately dance.

  “Dretch!” said Arik. “Could He have been any more cryptic?”

  And the wooden ground heaved and tilted, and became planking underfoot, while masts sprang up with billowing sails, and clouds formed all around.

  “Whale ho, Cap’n Arik, whale ho ahead!” came a cry from a man at the bow, “A ha’point down and a point to larboard.”

  And he pointed forward and down at a fleeing cloud, large and white in the moonlight.

  “Pipe the sails, Rith, and down vanes Trendel,” called Arik as he spun the wheel of the Sorrow to give chase; and high above the oceans of Malagar and across the starry night the swift sky galleon sped.

  27

  Courthouse:

  Adkins

  After the expulsion of the seven members of the break-away sect of the Temple of God, Judge Marshall took a moment to glower at the courtroom audience. “If any of you have an agenda, a personal axe to grind, then I advise you to sit quietly or get out now! If you grind that axe in my courtroom I’ll hold you in contempt, and we’ll see how well you enjoy a stay in a Pima County jail cell. So, now is your chance to leave quietly and not under arrest.”

  Marshall’s gaze swept across the onlookers, including the panel, the counselors, and the putative heirs. Some glanced away under that glare, others nodded as if agreeing, some smiled as if being introduced, still others glared back, unfazed.

  But no one left.

  Finally, the judge turned to Melissa French. “Continue counselor. —You were saying . . . ?”

  Melissa frowned and then brightened. “He thinks, therefore he is.” She turned to the panel. “When I said that, I was specifically referring to Arthur Coburn, but it applies to all of humanity as well as to primates and other animals.”

  “Your honor, is there a question in there somewhere?” asked Mark Perry.

  “Get on with it, Ms. French,” said Marshall.

  Melissa turned up her hands and stepped around the table and sat, gesturing to Mark that it was his turn.

  Mark stood and said, “By that definition—Cogito ergo sum—then, Ms. Adkins, would you say that the Coburn Industries AI slash VR zero one is a person?”

  “Yes, I would. He’s not human, but he is a person.”

  Mark looked at the panel and snorted, “Ridiculous.”

  “Which do you mean, Mr. Perry?” asked Toni. “My answer, or the panel?”

  As some in the audience smiled, Mark whirled on Toni. “Of all the foolish—”

  “Counselor, I’ve warned you about your language,” said Judge Marshall.

  Mark took a deep breath and said. “I apologize, your honor.” Mark then looked at Toni and asked, “How can Coburn Industries AI slash VR zero one be a person when it is a machine?”

  “Because,” said Toni, “Avery thinks therefore he is.”

  “But all that proves, Ms. Adkins, is that the Coburn Industries AI slash VR zero one exists.”

  “Yes, but Avery exists as a sentient being, ergo he is a person.”

  Judge Marshall said, “We’ve covered some of this ground before, counselor. Move on.”

  “Yes, your honor,” said Mark, and turned again to Toni and asked, “What makes you think that Arthur David Coburn’s mentality is in there and not some ersatz identity invented by the Coburn Industries AI slash VR zero one?”

  Melissa stood and said, “Objection, your honor.”

  “On what grounds, counselor?”

  “No foundation.”

  Mark said, “I am merely asking an opinion of this witness, your honor.”

  Judge Marshall looked at Melissa, and she said, “Your honor, this question is premature, for we intend to lay the groundwork to answer it meaningfully rather than give an untimely opinion, at which time Mr. Perry can explore the issue to his heart’s content.”

  Judge Marshall looked at the courtroom clock and said, “It’s getting late and I believe it’s time to call it a day. I’ll give my ruling when we reconvene. Court is adjourned until 9 a.m. tomorrow.”

  Judge Marshall banged his gavel and stood, and the bailiff called out, “All rise.”

  28

  Malagar

  (Crew of the Sorrow)

  Sailing among drifting billowing clouds in the moonlit night, the sky galleon sank from its higher altitude to pursue the fleeing great white cloud-whale, faintly tinted blue from within by its Glimmers.

  “Stand by nets!” called Ky, the small, trim woman of the saffron skin and tilted eyes from the eastern nation of Kokudo.

  High above and clinging to the main mast like a tattered wind pennant flowing in the chase, with ghostly tendrils streaming from her, Lyssa watched as they slowly overtook the prey. It was she who gave the ship its name—Lady of Sorrow, simply called Sorrow by most of its crew. It was a sad story how she had come to be, a tale known only by the captain and his officers. Lyssa, an apparition, only showed up at night, yet she was their most potent weapon against the Glimmer pirates slinking about in the darkness, in the red skies of Malagar.

  The crew was both afraid of and proud of the Lady and wouldn’t do without her spectral presence. Though they seldom addressed her, often they spoke of her.

  “Ar, she’s got a ghastly voice, moaning and wailing like she does. Sends shivers up my spine.”

  “They say she be Cap’n Arik’s truelove . . . er, rather she was.”

  “I hear she still be.”

  “Wot happened, I wonder.”

  “They tell someone shot her in a lovers’ quarrel.”

  “’At’s not what I heard. ’Twas a dreadful accident—she fell overboard, or so someone said.”

  “She hadn’t got on a hang-sail?”

  “Nar, just fell straight down, they say.”

  “Cap’n Arik, he don’t talk about it and that’s good enough for me.”

  “Ar, but at night, when the Glimmer pirates make a run at us, it’s all over for them, wot with the Lady slipping across and taking the wind out of their cap’n’s sails, so to speak.”

  “I wish she were about in the daytime as well; that way we wouldn’t get into cannon fire and boarding and such.”

  And so went the rumors and speculations, as well as a bit of the truth of her.

  And as for Captain Arik and his officers and Lyssa high above, to themselves it seemed they had always been on Malagar, but had always been on someplace called Itheria, too. How this could be, they hadn’t a clue, but they knew the reality of it.

  As rare as magic and witchcraft were on Malagar, on Itheria the officers had had special talents, and they knew they had them here as well. Besides, because of the rebellious prince and except for the Needs of the State, the queen had long ago banned these practices on the pain of death; and although magic and witchcraft were performed covertly by some, still, the crew of the Sorrow nominally paid allegiance to Her Majesty, and so the officers could not remember ever using their powers on Malagar—though Rith sang with a voice that seemed to go beyond wonder; and Kane, as the ship’s chirurgeon had managed to heal the sick and wounded where others would fail; and Trendel could find any port in a raging, blinding storm, when other pilots would be lost, perhaps forever; and Ky, well, she seemed to be able to see things in the darkness that others missed altogether; as for Captain Arik, he was a crack shot with a flintlock pistol
or musket, and was a whiz with a rapier or cutlass, and he knew better than anyone how to aim a cannon.

  And when it came to running down cloud-whales, the Sorrow seemed the best of the lot.

  And now Arik manned the helm, while Rith piped the silks, and Trendel controlled the vanes, and the galleon sailed down in a long curving arc to take up the chase.

  Kane held on to the forward rail of the sterncastle, for just as he was on Itheria, the Kane of Malagar was extremely wary of heights. On the Sorrow, though, he felt safe enough, for she was broad of beam and stable, and he didn’t have to look down very often.

  Finally the bow lookout cried, “Dead ahead, now, captain.”

  Trendel leveled the vanes.

  Slowly, they overtook and finally drew alongside their target, the cloud-whale now running to starboard. And down within the billowy form azure light stuttered and flashed, and Ky called out, “Blue Glimmers, Captain; we’ve struck it rich.” Then she yelled to her crew, “Stand by to cast,” and the crew at the tall forward net-mast made ready to deploy the flexible spun-glass grid, its globular weights dangling.

  Now the Sorrow drew ahead, and the aft lookout said, “Cap’n, she’s rising a bit, as if preparing to sound.”

  Arik said to Trendel, “Up vanes a quarter point,” and to Rith, “On Ky’s command,” and Rith piped the order to the crew.

  As the Sorrow slowly began to rise, matching the whale’s ascent, Ky shouted, “Deploy!”

  The net crew popped the ratchet, and, held by its hinge, the spring-loaded net-mast toppled down to jut out to the right side of the galleon, the weights unfurling the glass mesh as it open out in front of the whale, while at the same time the silver cage of the flux anchor was opened, trapping the ship in the magnetic flux of the world.

  And, impelled by the Glimmers, the whale flowed through the net, and as each of the Glimmers came to it, they were snared in the nonconducting web, each one caught on a small piece of copper embedded at the junctions of the mesh. As the last of the cloud exited through the net, it was a whale no more, but merely a common cloud drifting at the whim of the wind.

  “Begin harvest,” called Ky, and her crew used long copper poles to touch each Glimmer; and one by one the glowing lights flowed up the conductors, each into its own glass container, where a bit of copper embedded in a glass wall held the Glimmer fast, where each remained ensnared within until affixed permanently somewhere else by those who purchased them.

  From fist-sized to small pearl-sized, they would be used as lights and as decorations and gems. And the smaller ones would be encapsulated in glass and worn as jewelry. Hence, the least were more valuable than the larger, and rarer as well.

  As usual, minor arguments broke out among the harvesters as to the source of Glimmers:

  “’Tis a product of lightning. My da tells of Glimmer balls rolling across the floor during a thunderous storm.”

  “Nar, lightning don’t make no Glimmers; ’tis the rain instead.”

  “Sunshine, that’s the ticket.”

  “Rainbows make the Glimmers, and that’s the truth. Else, where do their colors come from?”

  “They’re magical creatures, I’d say.”

  “Don’t let the queen hear you tell it.”

  “Wot keeps ’em alive, I asks.”

  None had an answer to that.

  In truth, no one knew the source of Glimmers or why they seemed to be immortal, and it had taken nearly a century to discover how to trap and harvest them. But trap and harvest them they did, for they were highly prized by royalty and those with riches throughout all of Malagar, and certain hues brought very high prices, and only violet was more valued than blue.

  As the harvest went on, a sharp lookout for pirates was kept, for this was the time the ship was most vulnerable, anchored dead in the sky as she was. But Glimmer pirates gave the Sorrow wide berth, for at night her guardian was unbeatable, and in the daytime her cannoneers were perilous, and her boarding crew deadly. It was only when some ship from afar came upon the Sorrow that she occasionally had to fight. Even so, Captain Arik often put the crew through combat drills, simply to keep them sharp.

  Finally, the harvest was done, and the net-mast winched back into place, her mesh and weights lashed to the shaft. Arik gave the command, and Rith piped the orders, and the flux anchor cage was shut, and halyards were haled and the sails filled, and the Sorrow got underway again.

  “One hundred and twelve blues,” reported Ky. She laughed and hugged Chirurgeon Kane. “The net looked like it had filled with stars.”

  Now sitting on a spar above, Lyssa signaled,

  “Fear not, Lyssa,” said Kane. “There will be more Glimmers and more whales.”

 

  Kane shrugged, but Rith said, “Me, I feel sorry for the Glimmers themselves, taken away as they are from the wild and trapped in glass forever.”

  , signed Lyssa.

  They sailed on without speaking for a while, but finally Kane looked at Arik and asked, “Where next, Captain?”

  Arik glanced at Trendel and then turned to Kane and said, “Since Validor lies north, first we run the blockade and deliver our cargo to the queen and collect our due, for we might need the funds. Then we continue on northward to wherever Trendel leads, for we must find Lyssa’s body.”

  Kane turned up his hands and said, “You know, I was unconscious on Itheria when you laid your plans with Arda.” Kane paused and shook his head. “Gads, here we are on Malagar, and I am talking about Itheria, and for the life of me, I ought to be confused beyond redemption, but I’m not, but I don’t know why. Yet, I am certain of what I know: that we are of there as well as of here. Regardless, as to going after Lyssa’s body, I was unconscious most of the time Arda spoke, and so I don’t know how we came upon this mission. Would someone please tell me exactly what happened after I challenged the Black God on the demonplane?”

  Ky grinned and said, “Come, Kane, let’s go to your cabin, where we will, um . . . well, let me just say that afterward and as a reward I will tell you all I know.”

  29

  Five Months Before the Hearing

  (Coburn Facility)

  “Okay, Mike, loose the hounds,” said Kat Lawrence. “Carleen, Luiz, stand by.”

  Fwoosh! Liquid hydrogen rushed into the thermopipe. Kat turned to Al and said, “You sure the vent is open all the way up? This shit’ll blow us from here to the old presidio if not.”

  Al sighed. “For the umpteenth time, Kat, it’s PVC and clear to the roof and beyond. I mean, the lightning didn’t do squat to it.”

  The H2 made the short run through the pipe to the Astro 250 and expelled residual air through the jury-rigged outlet pipe. They had hooked up both the air intake and any overpressure H2 outflow of the Astro to the facility pipes of the former turbogen, that generator fused by the lightning strike of six months ago. They had also managed to rig the old gen’s pure water recovery system to the Astro 250’s exhaust.

  Carleen said, “She’s venting tank air now.”

  Finally, the whooshing slowed and then stopped. Michael Phelan turned from the gauge by the valve and gave Kat a thumbs-up. “She’s holding steady.”

  “Okay, Luiz, Carleen, light the fire,” said Kat.

  Luiz started the semi and revved the engine, and Carleen kicked over the starter on the Astro 250. With a screaming bellow the turbogen caught, and water vapor roared out from the exhaust as the engine whine scaled upward, sounding like a fan jet of old.

  The vapor itself hurtled into the retrieval assembly to winnow its way through the cooling baffles and become liquid pumped to the tanks on the top of the Coburn building for use in the day-to-day operation of the facility.

  Kat punched buttons on the Ast
ro panel, checking the available volt-amps as the turbo came up to speed. She gave Luiz the slash-across-the-throat signal for him to kill the semi, and so he shut down the Peterbilt.

  Knowing that she could not hear anything over the scream of the turbo, Kat ran the length of the flatbed and scrambled into the cab, slamming the door behind. “Al,” she called over her comband, “she’s up and running. Stand by.”

  “Ready here!” replied Al.

  Kat nodded to Luiz, who opened the door and leaned out from the cab and gave Carleen a thumb’s-up, then slammed the door shut again.

  Carlene threw the switches, and Al said, “The juice is right on the dot.”

  Kat smiled and said to Luiz. “We’re ready.”

  Luiz signaled Carlene, and she flipped the switches back and then cut the Astro, the whine eventually diminishing to silence.

  Kat keyed her comband and when Drew Meyer answered, she told the physicist, “We’re all set down here. Tell Toni that should anything happen to the power, we’re ready.”

  “Kat says the power’s all set,” said Drew to Toni Adkins.

  “Right,” said Toni, even as she glanced back and forth between the flickering ovoid in John Greyson’s display and the silvery whorl in the main holo.

  “Toni, is that really Arthur Coburn?” asked Alya Ramanni, pointing at the intermittent spheroid.

  “I don’t know,” said Toni.

  “Bah, it’s a trick,” said Stein, “Avery is showing us something that isn’t real.”

  “Of course, he’s showing us something that isn’t real,” said Drew Meyer, gesturing at the central scene. “None of that is actually happening. It’s VR!”

  “You know what I mean,” snarled Stein.

  “The trapped mentalities, the trapped souls are real,” said John Greyson. “And here we are seeing Arthur’s soul, though it—”

  “You and your ‘souls,’” sneered Stein.

  “Quiet!” snapped Toni. “I want to hear what the Foxes are saying to that swirling thing.”