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Chapter 3
Prince Haroun of the High Desert smiled as he heard the latest arrivals announced. “The Honorable James Knight, Ambassador from the United States. Lieutenant Sir Richard Foster, Knight-Captain of the Order of the High Desert. Dame Rajiya bint-Hakim Foster.” He watched as the three descended the steps to his Grand Hall and gestured to his major-domo, who sighed in quiet resignation and headed off to bring them to his liege-lord.
Beside him, Lady Noor chuckled as Mahmoud glided off. “He still hasn't figured it out, has he?”
Haroun shook his head. “Not that I've noticed, no. At least he seems to have given up getting upset about it. Progress of a sort. Perhaps he'll get there before he passes.”
“I'll believe that when I see it.” She broke off to smile at the trio as they were brought over to meet with their hosts. “Welcome back, Sir Richard. We've missed you. Both of you.”
The fennec officer bowed, while his lady curtsied. “Very kind of you to say, your Highness.”
Prince Haroun chuckled. “Of course it is. But it's still true. I still can't help smiling when I think of all the maneuvering that got spiked when you two got married and then returned to your homeland.” His eyes twinkled. “And did you steal all of the American's secrets for us while you were there, Rajiya?”
The former servant looked back and forth between her husband and his superior in alarm. “But I didn't...”
Haroun laughed again. “They know. I would like your impressions at some point, my dear. Sir Richard can come with you if you worry about that. But we are allies with the Americans now, and share more secrets between us than you would ever learn. I would simply like to know what you think of his homeland. You are one of the few commoners – or former commoners, at least – who has been there.”
Rajiya shook her head. “There was so much that I didn't even begin to understand, my Prince. So many marvels that they took as common-place, and so much wealth... did you know, your Highness, that their poor have a problem with being -fat-?”
Knight shrugged at the looks that the Prince and his First Consort gave him. “It's complicated. But it is true – those who live on the charity of others still have no problem with getting enough to eat.”
Noor shook her head. “This is -exactly- the sort of thing that our Ambassador misses, Rajiya. We definitely need to have that talk. But for tonight, try to enjoy yourself. And if Lady Sahar starts sniffing around you again, you can now truthfully say you are one of my spies.” She grinned. “Not that one of my actual spies would do more than hint, of course...”
Rajiya smiled at that. “Of course not, my Lady. Their Seeress taught me something of that.”
Haroun looked at the vixen more closely. “You met her?”
She nodded. “I did, my Prince. She came to visit Farid and me while Rick was at... Officer Candidate School?” Rick nodded confirmation. “...and I was staying with his family. The Ambassador Lady Fatima was there as well, of course. But the Seeress wished to know much the same sort of things as you and my Lady. What do the commons think of this new time we have reached, what we thought of America, and why we agreed to sleep through the ages with you.”
“I'm very glad you did,” said Rick. “But... why did you?”
“Father persuaded me. After all, without our Prince, the tribes left behind would be forced to submit to the Romans. I was not anxious to do that, not after...”
Rick nuzzled her cheek, gently. “I think I understand. Better a leap into the unknown with a leader you trust than to stay behind and depend on the mercy of a former opponent.”
“Exactly. And besides, Farid would have been the last of us who were fennecs. Had we stayed behind, his children would have had no magic, and my grandchildren would have been humans.”
Rick shook his head, his hands crossed over his heart and his ears flat in a completely melodramatic pose. “Terrible! A fate truly worse than death!”
Haroun looked at them both, one eyebrow raised. “Surely not -that- bad.”
The young officer grinned. “Well, perhaps not, your Highness. No disrespect intended.”
The Immortal shook his head. “Off with you, young fox. Go harass your fellow Knights.”
Rick swept an exaggerated bow. “At your command, your Highness.”
The Ambassador watched them wander off. “Unusual for a soldier to be returned to a post like this. Did you have a hand in the request, your Highness?”
Haroun shook his head. “Actually, no. But I think your Seeress did.” He watched the pair for a moment, then turned back to the Ambassador. “So, your President is secure in his position for another four years, I gather?”
“He began his second term three days ago, yes...”
Four days later, a quartet of fennecs arrived at the Palace gates. The eldest was the most nervous. “I don't understand this! Why would I be summoned to his court, Rick? And the boy, too?”
Rick shrugged. “I can guess, but I don't actually know, Hakim. Might be that he wants to ask you about how the folks from the old time feel about things. Might be that he just wants to mess with the nobles.” The Marine was dressed in the olive and tan service uniform this time, rather than his formal blues, though he was wearing the ribbon and pendant star of his knighthood. The other two adults wore dress robes, but the kit, as had been requested, was dressed in 'typical' American clothing – although his stepfather had insisted on a dress shirt and slacks rather than jeans and t-shirt. “All I know is that we were all asked to arrive together. And since we don't want to be late, let's go.”
The Star of the High Desert earned them a salute from the guards and the immediate attention of one of the servants at the entrance to the Palace. “Sir Richard. If you and your family will come with me, please?”
Rajiya realized quickly where they were being taken, and whispered to her husband. “Rick? This is the way to his Highness' private chambers. This isn't an audience, this is a private meeting!”
Fennec ears made whispers too faint for most to hear easily audible. “Are you sure?”
“I worked here for how many years, beloved? I know where we're headed. I brought him his meals there many times.” Her father and her son both flicked worried glances in her direction. “This is a good thing. He does not meet in his private chambers with anyone he is going to punish.”
Hakin let out a long breath in some relief. “As long as he doesn't -get- angry. You stay on your best behavior, grandson.”
Farid nodded, his eyes wide. “Maybe I shouldn't have brought Father's knife...”
Rick tapped the boy's muzzle. “Prince Haroun does not begrudge his loyal subjects their weapons in his presence, Farid. Something that American politicians are reluctant to allow these days. I doubt you could hurt him even if you wanted to, in any case. Just be honest if he should ask.”
The kit nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The guards today were a pair of cheetahs, who saluted the officer and waved them all into the room beyond. Haroun was seated, rather incongruously, in a high-end modern office swivel chair at the center of a half-dozen mirrors which showed images of various spots in his realm. The servant bowed and announced them. 'Sir Richard and family are here as you requested, your Highness.”
The Prince spun to face them and stood up. “Thank you, Hussein. That will be all for now.” He met them halfway across the room and took Rick's hands in his own. “Welcome back to the High Desert, Sir Richard. It's good to see you again.”
Hakim and Farid both boggled at the familiarity. Rajiya just smiled to herself. She'd seen the beginnings of this four years before, when Ambassador Knight had become a frequent visitor to the Palace. Apparently the American's mannerisms had continued to rub off. Even Rick was a bit surprised. “Ah... thank you, your Highness. What may we do for you today?”
“For today? Talk, I think. I wished to meet the rest of your family, and hear what they think about their sojourn in your homeland.”
“And my father-in-law? He stayed here, not with us.”
Haroun merely smiled and turned to the elder fennec. “Hakim bin Farouk. From you I wish your impressions of how your daughter and grandson were changed by their adventures.” He turned back to the American while the older fennec was still searching for a response. “And I didn't have a chance at the ball the other day, so let me offer my congratulations on your promotion.”
“Thank you, your Highness.”
The Immortal prince led the way to a conference table, and sat down in another swivel chair. “Such a marvelous idea. It makes busy days so much less tiring. Please, be seated. This will probably be a long session. The First Consort will be joining us for lunch in a bit, but for now...” He focused on the kit. “Farid bin Rashid. You spent two years in your stepfather's homeland. What did you think of it?”
“It was... strange, my Prince. They were both wise and foolish; the young ones thought that reading was a trivial skill and most did not even seem to appreciate it. I was not schooled with the regular classes at first, mainly because I did not know how to speak English when I got there, let alone read it. But I and a few others were given a teacher so that I could learn the language and to read and speak both it and ours.”
Rajiya beamed. “And he learned well, your Highness. He brought honor to you.”
Haroun smiled. “To himself and his family, of course. I am a poor third in that effort.”
Rick nodded. “But he did very well in his first year, and in his second he was able to join a regular class. There is still much he needs to learn, but he has made an excellent start on a modern education.”
“Excellent. And do you still wish to follow in the footsteps of your father and stepfather, young Farid? Would you like to join my Army?”
Farid's eyes lit up. “Please, your Highness, I would like nothing better!”
Haroun nodded. “Then keep up with your studies. By the time you are of age, I believe that you would be ideal as an officer candidate to be trained by the moderns for my service.” He smiled at the kit's eager grin and quivering ears. “But... you must keep up your studies. I will not squander such an opportunity on one who has no self-discipline.”
“I promise, my Prince!”
“Good. But that is for later. For now... tell me of what you saw. Is this how American children dress every day?”
“Well... Father insisted I wear nice clothes. Something like this, yes, but everyday wear is sloppier. And working on the ranch, of course, -much- sloppier. Horses are a bit messy.”
Haroun chuckled. “Indeed they are. But they work without this 'electricity' thing, so I doubt we shall be dispensing with them any time soon. Did you enjoy working with the horses?”
“Well... some of it. Didn't like shoveling out their stalls very much. But to ride? They have the most marvelous breeds. Some fast as the wind, others huge and strong to pull wagons... so many things they had...”
A white wolf-morph and a gray one sat in front of the fireplace at the NSA's Magic Communications Center, chatting while waiting for a response from the Eldest of the Immortals. “So that's what we know so far. Francois de Revol, financier and political kingmaker in the European Union, along with a cabal of at least six others are up to something.”
Lowe sighed. “And at least part of what they're after is immortality. But apparently only for themselves, I'd say. He's not promoting the research in public, he's sneaking around in the shadows and is not above kidnapping.”
Whitford nodded. “Is it possible to do that? Turn a normal into an Immortal?”
The white wolf nodded. “It's possible, yes. Haroun did it for Lady Noor, remember. But he says it isn't easy, and is more or less an ongoing working that he needs to maintain. I doubt that you and I would like any of that lot well enough to do the same for them.”
Whitford snorted in response. “No, not very likely. Nor would they trust us to do it unless we were in their power. But I thought we already knew how it works. Can't we come up with a simpler way to do it, and offer it to everyone?”
Lowe shook her head. “Social disruptions aside, no, we don't. We know that it involves telomere replacment, but we don't actually know -how- that happens. I suspect we'll figure it out, but if de Revol is typical, these are going to be rich, powerful, and most importantly -elderly- people who won't want to wait and who won't take 'no' for an answer. They'll be worried that they don't have time to wait for the research to be finished if there's a way to bypass it. And personally...?”
“Yes?”
“Loki and the Kraken and Quetzalcoatl were bad enough. I don't want more power-mad Immortals running around.”
“Can't argue with that, Jandi. Not a bit.”
Lowe decided to change the subject. “So, what were your impressions of Reynard?”
“A lot like Coyote, actually. Another shapeshifter trickster. At the moment, I suspect he's plotting revenge on de Revol for being imprisoned as a test subject. But apparently he's the only one left, possibly aside from the Eldest, who remembers how to work the Hunting Magic of the painted caves. That's how he twigged to de Revol's accomplices. Watching him via the old spells.” Whitford shrugged. “On the other hand, he has the ability to focus on things when he wants. Apparently he spent close to two centuries running a vineyard, which was how the bureaucrats eventually noticed him. Once all the records were computerized and you needed a permit from Brussels to go to the can, he couldn't just disappear and leave the place to a 'nephew' without creating a paper trail for the new identity. And he doesn't know enough about computers to fake that.”
“So he'll be very happy to see the computers crash, I take it?”
Whitford grinned. “He'll try to speed it up, I gather.”
Lowe winced. “I'd rather he didn't succeed in doing -that-. We're not even remotely close to duplicating computers using mana.”
“So how much of the Internet are we planning to download and archive before it's too late?”
“As much as we can. But I don't know how much that'll actually be. Even ignoring the exabytes of pornography, there's a lot of data there, and sorting out the good from the bad is a major headache. Not to mention that we've already had protests from the RIAA when derivative fiction works were downloaded to hard copy.”
“What did you tell them?”
“To stick it where the sun don't shine. But politely, of course.”
Whitford chuckled. “As polite as you usually are to reporters?”
Lowe grinned. “Maybe not -that- polite...” She looked up as the fireplace shifted into the image of the unicorn form of the Eldest. “Good morning, sir. Good news. We've located Reynard.”
Cerunnos nodded. “Coyote mentioned that. I've heard from Frost, as well.”
“Frost?”
“A rather reclusive Immortal. He generally stays in the Antarctic. He unbent enough to contact me when he relaized that there were mortals down there, and was wondering if it was worth getting rid of them or if it would be safe to just ignore them. I persuaded him that they were mainly fellow researchers and wouldn't bother him. He was actually interested when I told him about some of the things they do down there. Might want to give the Antarctic bases a heads-up. They just might get a visit.”
Lowe made a note. “I'll do that. Any sign of Loki?”
“Not a peep, I'm afraid. Morrigan's hiding, as well. I think she knows I'm upset with her.”
“We'll keep looking then. And the Alpha?”
“Still in Canada. Somewhere in the Yukon, I think.”
“I should try to get in touch with him again. Trouble is that it'll probably take a couple weeks, and I don't know if I have that kind of time at the moment.”
Cerunnos snorted. “Take the time. Your subordinates could use the experience. And you need to get out of Washington regularly. Place is a snake pit. Especially for an empath, I'd think.”
Lowe winced. “Constant battle to stay closed up, yes. All right, I'll do it soon. Even if it'll probably take three of them to do the job without my advantages.”
“If you don't, you'll end up like Haroun. Running the place, and stuck there because they depend too much on you.” He tossed his mane, the equine equivalent of a chuckle. “Unless you -want- to end up as
the Empress Jandi and Prince Consort John.”
“Shadow would kill me if I tried that. She was nervous enough about unfixing the elections. I don't think she'd take subverting the Constitution very well.”
Cerunnos twitched his ears. “How did that go, anyway?”
“Rather well, I think. There were a lot of surprised people the next morning, but none of the cheats seem to have a clue as to what went wrong for them. We'll need to do it again in two years, of course, if not next year, but the spells worked as designed. But the important thing – did Coyote mention where Reynard had been?”
“Just something about being in trouble again.”
“A bit more to it than that. There's a cabal of powerful mortals trying for immortality. One of them captured him... -before- the Convergence started. They'd noticed that his records didn't match up, somehow, and were trying to figure out how he could be in his nineties and look like he was in his thirties.”
The unicorn focused on the wolf. “That is something new. And it doesn't sound like a good thing.”
“I agree. Rich and powerful mortals who aren't particularly scrupulous about how they try to get what they want... The worst part is, what if they are successful? You can bet that they won't distribute the knowledge to anyone but their friends. We just got -done- dealing with the messes left when we took out Creya and Quetzalcoatl. We don't need another seven of that sort.”
Cerrunos winced .”I see your point. Let's hope we can nip this in the bud, then.”
Stantsiya Vostok (East Station), Antarctic Geomagnetic Pole
The pair of scientists were taking their turn checking the weather station a kilometer from the main base when the Canadian stopped writing down data and cleared his throat. “Yuri?”
“Da, Frank?”
“Remember that message we got last week from Washington? The one that they sent out to all the Antarctic stations about one of the Old Magic folks living down here?”
“.... I am thinking, I am not now wanting to turn around.”
“I didn't know dragons came in white, Yuri. He seems friendly enough, though...”
“A ty govorish po Russki?” The voice even sounded cold, with the hiss of wind-borne snow over ice.
Frank shifted languages. “We do. You are Elder named as Frost, yes?”
“I am. What is it that you do here?”
Yuri decided that whatever it was, was not going to go away, and turned to look. Frost was a sleek dragon, with none of the traditional spikes and fins aside from the claws on his leathery wings. White was a poor description of his colors, though. He gleamed in the weak polar sunlight, his scales sparkling in white and ice blues as he moved. “This is a weather recording station, Gospodin Frost. It records temperature, wind direction and speed, air pressure and humidity on an ongoing basis and saves it. We are changing the recording tape and checking that it remains in working order.”
“Fascinating. And you have these all over the world?”
Frank nodded. “Similar things, yes. And we send some high into the air as well, on balloons.”
“Truly? This sounds marvelous. The Eldest was right, I believe I will like you mortals. He mentioned something about drilling down to the lake under the ice. Are you really doing such a thing?”
Yuri grinned. “Absolutely! We have done it twice now, and found living things that have not seen the light in perhaps fifteen millions of years!” He pointed at the machinery on the horizon. “We are careful not to contaminate it, and so let the holes freeze again after taking samples. But we are starting a third drill shaft now.”
The dragon actually grinned at this revelation. “Marvelous, indeed. We must compare notes. Cerrunos said that you have made great progress this Cycle by doing so....”
Prince Haroun of the High Desert smiled as he heard the latest arrivals announced. “The Honorable James Knight, Ambassador from the United States. Lieutenant Sir Richard Foster, Knight-Captain of the Order of the High Desert. Dame Rajiya bint-Hakim Foster.” He watched as the three descended the steps to his Grand Hall and gestured to his major-domo, who sighed in quiet resignation and headed off to bring them to his liege-lord.
Beside him, Lady Noor chuckled as Mahmoud glided off. “He still hasn't figured it out, has he?”
Haroun shook his head. “Not that I've noticed, no. At least he seems to have given up getting upset about it. Progress of a sort. Perhaps he'll get there before he passes.”
“I'll believe that when I see it.” She broke off to smile at the trio as they were brought over to meet with their hosts. “Welcome back, Sir Richard. We've missed you. Both of you.”
The fennec officer bowed, while his lady curtsied. “Very kind of you to say, your Highness.”
Prince Haroun chuckled. “Of course it is. But it's still true. I still can't help smiling when I think of all the maneuvering that got spiked when you two got married and then returned to your homeland.” His eyes twinkled. “And did you steal all of the American's secrets for us while you were there, Rajiya?”
The former servant looked back and forth between her husband and his superior in alarm. “But I didn't...”
Haroun laughed again. “They know. I would like your impressions at some point, my dear. Sir Richard can come with you if you worry about that. But we are allies with the Americans now, and share more secrets between us than you would ever learn. I would simply like to know what you think of his homeland. You are one of the few commoners – or former commoners, at least – who has been there.”
Rajiya shook her head. “There was so much that I didn't even begin to understand, my Prince. So many marvels that they took as common-place, and so much wealth... did you know, your Highness, that their poor have a problem with being -fat-?”
Knight shrugged at the looks that the Prince and his First Consort gave him. “It's complicated. But it is true – those who live on the charity of others still have no problem with getting enough to eat.”
Noor shook her head. “This is -exactly- the sort of thing that our Ambassador misses, Rajiya. We definitely need to have that talk. But for tonight, try to enjoy yourself. And if Lady Sahar starts sniffing around you again, you can now truthfully say you are one of my spies.” She grinned. “Not that one of my actual spies would do more than hint, of course...”
Rajiya smiled at that. “Of course not, my Lady. Their Seeress taught me something of that.”
Haroun looked at the vixen more closely. “You met her?”
She nodded. “I did, my Prince. She came to visit Farid and me while Rick was at... Officer Candidate School?” Rick nodded confirmation. “...and I was staying with his family. The Ambassador Lady Fatima was there as well, of course. But the Seeress wished to know much the same sort of things as you and my Lady. What do the commons think of this new time we have reached, what we thought of America, and why we agreed to sleep through the ages with you.”
“I'm very glad you did,” said Rick. “But... why did you?”
“Father persuaded me. After all, without our Prince, the tribes left behind would be forced to submit to the Romans. I was not anxious to do that, not after...”
Rick nuzzled her cheek, gently. “I think I understand. Better a leap into the unknown with a leader you trust than to stay behind and depend on the mercy of a former opponent.”
“Exactly. And besides, Farid would have been the last of us who were fennecs. Had we stayed behind, his children would have had no magic, and my grandchildren would have been humans.”
Rick shook his head, his hands crossed over his heart and his ears flat in a completely melodramatic pose. “Terrible! A fate truly worse than death!”
Haroun looked at them both, one eyebrow raised. “Surely not -that- bad.”
The young officer grinned. “Well, perhaps not, your Highness. No disrespect intended.”
The Immortal shook his head. “Off with you, young fox. Go harass your fellow Knights.”
Rick swept an exaggerated bow. “At your command, your Highness.”
The Ambassador watched them wander off. “Unusual for a soldier to be returned to a post like this. Did you have a hand in the request, your Highness?”
Haroun shook his head. “Actually, no. But I think your Seeress did.” He watched the pair for a moment, then turned back to the Ambassador. “So, your President is secure in his position for another four years, I gather?”
“He began his second term three days ago, yes...”
Four days later, a quartet of fennecs arrived at the Palace gates. The eldest was the most nervous. “I don't understand this! Why would I be summoned to his court, Rick? And the boy, too?”
Rick shrugged. “I can guess, but I don't actually know, Hakim. Might be that he wants to ask you about how the folks from the old time feel about things. Might be that he just wants to mess with the nobles.” The Marine was dressed in the olive and tan service uniform this time, rather than his formal blues, though he was wearing the ribbon and pendant star of his knighthood. The other two adults wore dress robes, but the kit, as had been requested, was dressed in 'typical' American clothing – although his stepfather had insisted on a dress shirt and slacks rather than jeans and t-shirt. “All I know is that we were all asked to arrive together. And since we don't want to be late, let's go.”
The Star of the High Desert earned them a salute from the guards and the immediate attention of one of the servants at the entrance to the Palace. “Sir Richard. If you and your family will come with me, please?”
Rajiya realized quickly where they were being taken, and whispered to her husband. “Rick? This is the way to his Highness' private chambers. This isn't an audience, this is a private meeting!”
Fennec ears made whispers too faint for most to hear easily audible. “Are you sure?”
“I worked here for how many years, beloved? I know where we're headed. I brought him his meals there many times.” Her father and her son both flicked worried glances in her direction. “This is a good thing. He does not meet in his private chambers with anyone he is going to punish.”
Hakin let out a long breath in some relief. “As long as he doesn't -get- angry. You stay on your best behavior, grandson.”
Farid nodded, his eyes wide. “Maybe I shouldn't have brought Father's knife...”
Rick tapped the boy's muzzle. “Prince Haroun does not begrudge his loyal subjects their weapons in his presence, Farid. Something that American politicians are reluctant to allow these days. I doubt you could hurt him even if you wanted to, in any case. Just be honest if he should ask.”
The kit nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The guards today were a pair of cheetahs, who saluted the officer and waved them all into the room beyond. Haroun was seated, rather incongruously, in a high-end modern office swivel chair at the center of a half-dozen mirrors which showed images of various spots in his realm. The servant bowed and announced them. 'Sir Richard and family are here as you requested, your Highness.”
The Prince spun to face them and stood up. “Thank you, Hussein. That will be all for now.” He met them halfway across the room and took Rick's hands in his own. “Welcome back to the High Desert, Sir Richard. It's good to see you again.”
Hakim and Farid both boggled at the familiarity. Rajiya just smiled to herself. She'd seen the beginnings of this four years before, when Ambassador Knight had become a frequent visitor to the Palace. Apparently the American's mannerisms had continued to rub off. Even Rick was a bit surprised. “Ah... thank you, your Highness. What may we do for you today?”
“For today? Talk, I think. I wished to meet the rest of your family, and hear what they think about their sojourn in your homeland.”
“And my father-in-law? He stayed here, not with us.”
Haroun merely smiled and turned to the elder fennec. “Hakim bin Farouk. From you I wish your impressions of how your daughter and grandson were changed by their adventures.” He turned back to the American while the older fennec was still searching for a response. “And I didn't have a chance at the ball the other day, so let me offer my congratulations on your promotion.”
“Thank you, your Highness.”
The Immortal prince led the way to a conference table, and sat down in another swivel chair. “Such a marvelous idea. It makes busy days so much less tiring. Please, be seated. This will probably be a long session. The First Consort will be joining us for lunch in a bit, but for now...” He focused on the kit. “Farid bin Rashid. You spent two years in your stepfather's homeland. What did you think of it?”
“It was... strange, my Prince. They were both wise and foolish; the young ones thought that reading was a trivial skill and most did not even seem to appreciate it. I was not schooled with the regular classes at first, mainly because I did not know how to speak English when I got there, let alone read it. But I and a few others were given a teacher so that I could learn the language and to read and speak both it and ours.”
Rajiya beamed. “And he learned well, your Highness. He brought honor to you.”
Haroun smiled. “To himself and his family, of course. I am a poor third in that effort.”
Rick nodded. “But he did very well in his first year, and in his second he was able to join a regular class. There is still much he needs to learn, but he has made an excellent start on a modern education.”
“Excellent. And do you still wish to follow in the footsteps of your father and stepfather, young Farid? Would you like to join my Army?”
Farid's eyes lit up. “Please, your Highness, I would like nothing better!”
Haroun nodded. “Then keep up with your studies. By the time you are of age, I believe that you would be ideal as an officer candidate to be trained by the moderns for my service.” He smiled at the kit's eager grin and quivering ears. “But... you must keep up your studies. I will not squander such an opportunity on one who has no self-discipline.”
“I promise, my Prince!”
“Good. But that is for later. For now... tell me of what you saw. Is this how American children dress every day?”
“Well... Father insisted I wear nice clothes. Something like this, yes, but everyday wear is sloppier. And working on the ranch, of course, -much- sloppier. Horses are a bit messy.”
Haroun chuckled. “Indeed they are. But they work without this 'electricity' thing, so I doubt we shall be dispensing with them any time soon. Did you enjoy working with the horses?”
“Well... some of it. Didn't like shoveling out their stalls very much. But to ride? They have the most marvelous breeds. Some fast as the wind, others huge and strong to pull wagons... so many things they had...”
A white wolf-morph and a gray one sat in front of the fireplace at the NSA's Magic Communications Center, chatting while waiting for a response from the Eldest of the Immortals. “So that's what we know so far. Francois de Revol, financier and political kingmaker in the European Union, along with a cabal of at least six others are up to something.”
Lowe sighed. “And at least part of what they're after is immortality. But apparently only for themselves, I'd say. He's not promoting the research in public, he's sneaking around in the shadows and is not above kidnapping.”
Whitford nodded. “Is it possible to do that? Turn a normal into an Immortal?”
The white wolf nodded. “It's possible, yes. Haroun did it for Lady Noor, remember. But he says it isn't easy, and is more or less an ongoing working that he needs to maintain. I doubt that you and I would like any of that lot well enough to do the same for them.”
Whitford snorted in response. “No, not very likely. Nor would they trust us to do it unless we were in their power. But I thought we already knew how it works. Can't we come up with a simpler way to do it, and offer it to everyone?”
Lowe shook her head. “Social disruptions aside, no, we don't. We know that it involves telomere replacment, but we don't actually know -how- that happens. I suspect we'll figure it out, but if de Revol is typical, these are going to be rich, powerful, and most importantly -elderly- people who won't want to wait and who won't take 'no' for an answer. They'll be worried that they don't have time to wait for the research to be finished if there's a way to bypass it. And personally...?”
“Yes?”
“Loki and the Kraken and Quetzalcoatl were bad enough. I don't want more power-mad Immortals running around.”
“Can't argue with that, Jandi. Not a bit.”
Lowe decided to change the subject. “So, what were your impressions of Reynard?”
“A lot like Coyote, actually. Another shapeshifter trickster. At the moment, I suspect he's plotting revenge on de Revol for being imprisoned as a test subject. But apparently he's the only one left, possibly aside from the Eldest, who remembers how to work the Hunting Magic of the painted caves. That's how he twigged to de Revol's accomplices. Watching him via the old spells.” Whitford shrugged. “On the other hand, he has the ability to focus on things when he wants. Apparently he spent close to two centuries running a vineyard, which was how the bureaucrats eventually noticed him. Once all the records were computerized and you needed a permit from Brussels to go to the can, he couldn't just disappear and leave the place to a 'nephew' without creating a paper trail for the new identity. And he doesn't know enough about computers to fake that.”
“So he'll be very happy to see the computers crash, I take it?”
Whitford grinned. “He'll try to speed it up, I gather.”
Lowe winced. “I'd rather he didn't succeed in doing -that-. We're not even remotely close to duplicating computers using mana.”
“So how much of the Internet are we planning to download and archive before it's too late?”
“As much as we can. But I don't know how much that'll actually be. Even ignoring the exabytes of pornography, there's a lot of data there, and sorting out the good from the bad is a major headache. Not to mention that we've already had protests from the RIAA when derivative fiction works were downloaded to hard copy.”
“What did you tell them?”
“To stick it where the sun don't shine. But politely, of course.”
Whitford chuckled. “As polite as you usually are to reporters?”
Lowe grinned. “Maybe not -that- polite...” She looked up as the fireplace shifted into the image of the unicorn form of the Eldest. “Good morning, sir. Good news. We've located Reynard.”
Cerunnos nodded. “Coyote mentioned that. I've heard from Frost, as well.”
“Frost?”
“A rather reclusive Immortal. He generally stays in the Antarctic. He unbent enough to contact me when he relaized that there were mortals down there, and was wondering if it was worth getting rid of them or if it would be safe to just ignore them. I persuaded him that they were mainly fellow researchers and wouldn't bother him. He was actually interested when I told him about some of the things they do down there. Might want to give the Antarctic bases a heads-up. They just might get a visit.”
Lowe made a note. “I'll do that. Any sign of Loki?”
“Not a peep, I'm afraid. Morrigan's hiding, as well. I think she knows I'm upset with her.”
“We'll keep looking then. And the Alpha?”
“Still in Canada. Somewhere in the Yukon, I think.”
“I should try to get in touch with him again. Trouble is that it'll probably take a couple weeks, and I don't know if I have that kind of time at the moment.”
Cerunnos snorted. “Take the time. Your subordinates could use the experience. And you need to get out of Washington regularly. Place is a snake pit. Especially for an empath, I'd think.”
Lowe winced. “Constant battle to stay closed up, yes. All right, I'll do it soon. Even if it'll probably take three of them to do the job without my advantages.”
“If you don't, you'll end up like Haroun. Running the place, and stuck there because they depend too much on you.” He tossed his mane, the equine equivalent of a chuckle. “Unless you -want- to end up as
the Empress Jandi and Prince Consort John.”
“Shadow would kill me if I tried that. She was nervous enough about unfixing the elections. I don't think she'd take subverting the Constitution very well.”
Cerunnos twitched his ears. “How did that go, anyway?”
“Rather well, I think. There were a lot of surprised people the next morning, but none of the cheats seem to have a clue as to what went wrong for them. We'll need to do it again in two years, of course, if not next year, but the spells worked as designed. But the important thing – did Coyote mention where Reynard had been?”
“Just something about being in trouble again.”
“A bit more to it than that. There's a cabal of powerful mortals trying for immortality. One of them captured him... -before- the Convergence started. They'd noticed that his records didn't match up, somehow, and were trying to figure out how he could be in his nineties and look like he was in his thirties.”
The unicorn focused on the wolf. “That is something new. And it doesn't sound like a good thing.”
“I agree. Rich and powerful mortals who aren't particularly scrupulous about how they try to get what they want... The worst part is, what if they are successful? You can bet that they won't distribute the knowledge to anyone but their friends. We just got -done- dealing with the messes left when we took out Creya and Quetzalcoatl. We don't need another seven of that sort.”
Cerrunos winced .”I see your point. Let's hope we can nip this in the bud, then.”
Stantsiya Vostok (East Station), Antarctic Geomagnetic Pole
The pair of scientists were taking their turn checking the weather station a kilometer from the main base when the Canadian stopped writing down data and cleared his throat. “Yuri?”
“Da, Frank?”
“Remember that message we got last week from Washington? The one that they sent out to all the Antarctic stations about one of the Old Magic folks living down here?”
“.... I am thinking, I am not now wanting to turn around.”
“I didn't know dragons came in white, Yuri. He seems friendly enough, though...”
“A ty govorish po Russki?” The voice even sounded cold, with the hiss of wind-borne snow over ice.
Frank shifted languages. “We do. You are Elder named as Frost, yes?”
“I am. What is it that you do here?”
Yuri decided that whatever it was, was not going to go away, and turned to look. Frost was a sleek dragon, with none of the traditional spikes and fins aside from the claws on his leathery wings. White was a poor description of his colors, though. He gleamed in the weak polar sunlight, his scales sparkling in white and ice blues as he moved. “This is a weather recording station, Gospodin Frost. It records temperature, wind direction and speed, air pressure and humidity on an ongoing basis and saves it. We are changing the recording tape and checking that it remains in working order.”
“Fascinating. And you have these all over the world?”
Frank nodded. “Similar things, yes. And we send some high into the air as well, on balloons.”
“Truly? This sounds marvelous. The Eldest was right, I believe I will like you mortals. He mentioned something about drilling down to the lake under the ice. Are you really doing such a thing?”
Yuri grinned. “Absolutely! We have done it twice now, and found living things that have not seen the light in perhaps fifteen millions of years!” He pointed at the machinery on the horizon. “We are careful not to contaminate it, and so let the holes freeze again after taking samples. But we are starting a third drill shaft now.”
The dragon actually grinned at this revelation. “Marvelous, indeed. We must compare notes. Cerrunos said that you have made great progress this Cycle by doing so....”
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