Facets of the Nether
Page 9
Mandamon dropped his attention from the Symphony for a moment, lowering his hands. “Yes, just the Houses of Potential, Healing, and Power between us. Only half the Symphony. What a shame.” He’d forgotten how easily Gompt could flip his switches. It was a pleasant change from the incompetence in the Council.
The scent of woody pulp filled his nostrils as a memory surged of him and Gompt on Loba, mere months after the Society of Two Houses was closed. “Ah, that’s the right sensory cue.”
The Symphony surged again, and he clamped onto a sequence of notes defining the melody of the garden behind Gompt’s home. They weren’t using a portal ground, which was technically illegal, but then, so was the Society they were attempting to resurrect. Mandamon had a specific goal, and telling the rest of the Council would only make it harder to achieve. Besides, they were busy with the aftermath of the Life Coalition’s attack on the Dome of the Assembly. He’d been stupid not to realize how the organization had grown, hidden for so many cycles.
He placed a slightly different sequence of notes from the core of his being into the music. Switched this section with that, and made the swell of the music turn from a listless ballet to a waltz. He raised his hands and an oval of black spread in front of him, rising until it was his height, ringed in an aura of brown and white.
“Got it,” he said.
Gompt tapped on Krat’s controls and the multi-legged System Beast scuttled past Mandamon. “Hope it is correct,” Krat said, before Gompt’s furry head passed through the portal.
Mandamon emerged behind the Festuour and the portal spiraled shut behind him. His notes returned as the Symphony modulated to this place’s usual theme. He pushed his shoulders back, taking in a deep breath of humid air. Soggy ground gave beneath his boots, and large, fleshy fungoid stalks cast patches of shade.
“Zie lives over in that direction, if I remember correctly,” Gompt said, pointing a paw off to his left. There was a path through the fungal trees, which shaded the mud and patches of moss littering the ground. His other paw was pulling at the bandolier he wore so it sat better over his paunch. “But it’s been a long time. Zie could have left, or died, or—”
“Zie’s still here,” Mandamon said. He took an old piece of paper from his suit pocket, and unfolded it. “I’ve been monitoring all the two-house maji. Sitting on the Council has its benefits, after all.”
“Some benefit,” Krat’s mechanical voice croaked. “Couldn’t even come visit.”
“Well I knew where you were…” Mandamon stumbled over the last word. “Where one of you was, at least.”
“Past is past,” Krat muttered. The System Beast’s metal-tipped toes made indentations in the moss as she shifted from leg to leg.
Mandamon sighed and began stumping over the marshy ground to a small collection of huts made from resinous brown tissue. They rested in the center of a patch cleared of the tall fungal spires, and seeded with lush blue moss to keep the mud away. Loba wasn’t his favorite place to visit, but it was familiar. All the ten homeworlds were. He’d traveled across each one in the cycles since he was a young man in the Society.
“This marsh is terrible for Krat,” Gompt said as he was bumped over little ponds, and stems, and fallen mushroom caps.
“Will have to do routine maintenance after return,” the mechanical voice said. “Detecting high level of moisture between metal and wood interface in several leg joints. Swelling will occur.”
“We’ll be there shortly. Stop your complaining,” Mandamon said. “Laryn I’Hon is of the Houses of Strength and Communication. We used to call that a ‘Negotiator.’ It’s an interesting combination in any case, and Laryn should be helpful to convey information about the Society to other two-house maji. We need to let the right people know what we are doing.”
“Great,” said Gompt. “Zie will be a good addition then, since everyone knows you’re a terrible communicator.” Mandamon looked back to see Gompt’s blue eyes staring at him over the top of his glasses.
“Not going to let that go, are you,” he said.
“Not for long while yet,” Krat rumbled.
“What is this new device you have anyway?” Gompt pressed. “Will you let the thrycovolar out of the cage when we get to Laryn’s residence?”
“Better to tell you all at the same time. Have patience.” Mandamon turned away so he couldn’t see Gompt showing his teeth in exasperation. The mystery would draw the Festuour on, and the System Beast for that matter, if Krat was anything like her progenitor.
Mandamon headed for the tiny village. That way neither of them could see the small smile threatening through his beard. It was good to be with his friends again.
* * *
“It’s been an age since I’ve seen you, Touching Digits,” Gompt said. Mandamon shifted on the sideways cylinder where he sat. It wanted to roll this way and that, and it took an effort to keep from falling off the side. Though the style was popular among the Lobhl, this was not a chair for an old man like him. He eyed Krat’s shiny metal and wood legs, supporting Gompt’s bulk. Maybe he would build his own System Beast conveyance, when they were done tracking down prospective members of the new Society.
“We did have a little trouble finding your home,” Mandamon said. “Neither Gompt nor I are familiar with any dialects of your hand sign, which made it hard to ask for directions. However, your people are very conscientious. They continued asking questions until they solved our problem and we arrived here.” In fact, several had followed them all the way to Touching Digits’ color post, which marked what the Lobhl called their “claim of individuality.”
As maji, Mandamon and Gompt were affected differently by the Nether, able to understand other species even when on one of the ten homeworlds. Non-maji did not have the same reaction to the Nether, and so Mandamon and Gompt’s vague gestures were not translated back for the Lobhl. Fortunately, Touching Digits, a majus of the Houses of Communication and Potential, did not have that problem.
“Right pleasing,” Gompt said, while Mandamon was still thinking of an answer.
“Ratio of green sequence and magenta contrast forms informative bivariate color scale,” Krat’s mechanical voice broke in.
“We’ve come about the Society of Two Houses,” Mandamon said. He hoped he wasn’t breaking any social norms by getting straight to the point, but the Lobhl had asked. The mute species had a strange concept of honor and politeness.
“We’re getting the players back together,” the Festuour said. “Got a new design that needs the old crowd, so the boss says.” He threw a furry thumb at Mandamon.
“A figure of speech…or language,” Mandamon said.
“He is on the Council of the Maji,” Gompt said. “Got to afford the bigwigs their respect.”
Digits adjusted the scarf they wore around the lower portion of their head. It draped down into a shawl covering the Lobhl’s shoulders and chest. The species did not have the same concept of gender as most of the others in the Assembly, and so it was considered polite to ask which gender the individual had assumed, as it tended to change with the task at hand. Touching Digits had made it clear they were agender, as they did not currently have a gendered responsibility.
“At any rate,” Mandamon said, pulling the yellowed paper from his inside pocket, “I have it marked you are of the Houses of Communication and Potential? What we used to call an ‘Innervator’ in the Society?”
Mandamon blinked after the Lobhl finished, letting his brain process the information coming to it. It was as if he had the memory of hearing Touching Digits make the speech.
“We could’ve used you on the System Beast project,” Gompt put in. “Always had trouble with the power conduction.”
“Would have put too many of House of Potential on the project,” Krat’s mechanical voice cut it. “Kratitha complained of you two already.”
“You remember that?” Mandamon asked the System Beast. He didn’t want to derail their conversation, but if Krat had memories of Kratitha’s life, then…
“Select memory transcriptions stored, along with picked recordings from Kratitha,” Krat said. “Enough to interpolate for data.”
Touching Digits said.
“And well you did,” Mandamon said. He took in the Lobhl. Their head was bald, and nearly featureless, and Mandamon’s attention naturally went to their hands. There were signs of maturity present there, with scars on several fingers, and thick skin around the fingertips. Mandamon guessed the Lobhl was of an age with him and Gompt, though he wasn’t certain how long their species lived.
“The point Mandamon is dancing around,” Gompt said, “is that we’re wondering if you would like to rejoin the Society. We need the members to build this confounded device he wants to make, but he’s staying silent on what exactly it is until we get more maji.”
Touching Digits’ hand folded in and out, showing consideration. they said.
“Meaning you…are willing to join?” Mandamon asked. The Lobhl occasionally had issues in communication with the other species.
Mandamon gripped the paper in both hands, keeping them still. “Excellent,” he said. “So far is it us, and a Lobath named Laryn I’Hon. Zie is younger than us, and was not around when the Society disbanded. But zie is willing to help our search for the edges of knowledge of the Symphony.”
“Zie’s also in the House of Communication,” Gompt said. “We thought it would be good if you two were to spread word to some other two-house maji we’ve found. That way it won’t take us an age and half to gather everyone up.”
Mandamon nodded. “That was the biggest failing of the Society in the past—its secrecy. I will not fall into that same trap again. This time word will get out. But by that point I mean to be ready.”
“For the Dissolution,” Mandamon replied.
CHAPTER SIX
Providing the Peace
- The Aridori are a constant thorn in the archivist’s side. So many records were destroyed in the Aridori War it is as if our history begins merely a thousand cycles ago, though that is ridiculous. However, it is exceedingly hard to find surviving records of substance. There are many small things—financial statements, inventory lists, and personal letters—that let us know the Assembly of Species existed. We also know there was a great fire in the records room of the Palace of the Effature.
The Aridori, when they launched their attack (if that was what actually happened), destroyed all records they could find, whether or not it mentioned them. We must depend almost exclusively on oral records to recreate the events.
Excerpt from “A Dissertation on the Ten Species, Book XII: The Aridori”
Rey skulked up the massive stair leading to the Great Assembly. It was not in session today, but that did not mean it was empty.
It had taken six days of persuasion to get Majus Kheena to admit they might be able to talk to the Life Coalition leaders on their own. The Snakey’s claims of some great source of power, and that they all had to work together now instead of murderin’ each other, were not enough to overcome the Assembly’s reticence. Perfectly understandable, and coupled with a healthy fear of the Aridori meant they were being interviewed—or interrogated—by the Council of the Maji and the Speakers nigh constantly to find out the right of things.
Instead of Rey’s idea to approach the Coalition directly, his mentor surprised him by suggesting they slip in before the Coalition next parleyed with the Speakers and the Council.
“It’s clear,” he called back, and his mentor’s dark robe hurried up the steps behind him. There were a few of the Effature’s guards around the curve of the building, not looking in this direction.
“Us, we must be careful. This, it is not necessarily condoned,” Majus Kheena hissed. “Simply because me, I share their species, that does not mean I wish to be accused of collaboration with them.”
“Eyah, and yer would rather be workin’ sums back in yer hidey-hole, I know. But I want to get Inas back as much as the rest of the group, and they’re comin’ up with nothin’ useful.”
Did that mean he wanted Inas back more since he was sneaking inside the Assembly? He would have thought Enos at least would be itching to find her brother.
“Agreed. Direct negotiation, it has uses. But listening to Majus Ayama, it seems the Council, it is not doing the job it was meant to.”
“Aye,” Rey returned. “‘Specially now Councilor Feldo’s skived off the last month or so.”
“This, I have noticed,” his mentor mumbled as they hurried up the stair.
Inside, Rey searched the empty seats of the Assembly. It looked very different, standing on the floor. The Council and Speakers must be used to looking up the nostrils of several thousand maji and ten times that number of delegates. They shimmied around, close to the wall. The Speakers and more guards would be here soon.
“Me, I must wonder why the Coalition did not deploy such a weapon as an Aridori openly before now.” Rey’s mentor scowled. “One of those beasts, if the tales are true, might have flipped the tide of the attack right here, not so long ago. The entirety of the maji, they could not stop the void the Life Coalition summoned. There is more going on and us, we must find out.”
“I was right beside yer,” Rey said. “Good we got out when we did.” He’d seen Majus Ayama and the others running around the floor, coordinating the counter att
ack to the Life Coalition’s intrusion into the Dome of the Assembly. They’d popped in from nowhere at the last moment, as usual. Didn’t tell him and his mentor what was goin’ on ‘till later.
Majus Kheena grunted in agreement, then pointed. “The Life Coalition members, they should be in one of those alcoves.” He pointed to several hanging curtains spaced around the floor of the Assembly. Behind them were cubbies dug into the stone forming the first story between the glowing floor and the lowest set of seats for the maji.
They kept to the wall, quickly tracing the circumference of the floor until Majus Kheena brushed aside the curtain of the nearest alcove. “Not this one.”
Rey got to the next one before him and tugged it open. “Eyah, they’re in here.”
He stared at the leaders of the Life Coalition, seated in chairs. Four cowls turned in his direction. No one else was here yet, thank the Greatmother.
“You, you are not Speakers,” one of the Snakeys said—the female who’d led the discussion in the Assembly.
Rey made a show of gesturing his mentor in, who, he noticed, had pulled his cowl forward. “Yer right, we are not. Instead, I give you Majus Kheena of the House of Potential. We’re a mite pressed fer time, yer understand.” That probably wasn’t the best way to say it, but those dark hoods staring at him made all his hair stand on end. Creepy Snakeys.
“And you, what is it you want?” another said. Rey thought it was the one introduced as Zsaana. The voice was old and dry, even if Rey couldn’t see anything under all that cloth.
“Us, we wish to talk,” Majus Kheena said and Rey tilted his head in agreement.
“Mor’n that, we want my friend back,” he said.
His mentor shot him a look, but he didn’t care. The Life Coalition had held Inas for over a month. Rey was willing to entertain listening to their side of things, but they’d have to give him up first.