

The Great Unknown

Yoni Kirby

yonikirby@gmail.com

It felt like a burn, but what was it really? Jaka could not tell, as he was lying face-down upon the rusty metal bed and the machines were really loud. They were about to cut into him once more, he knew, and implant whatever they wanted to implant inside of his very bones. What these implants did Jaka did not know, but he knew they'd better hurry, because even with the drugs it was painful; and becoming more so by the second.

"Do you like it?" said the doctor. "The pain, I mean: it has such a delicate, razor-sharp edge, and if you apply it without skill..." and he put pressure on the device he was using, causing Jaka's spine to burn, and then the sharpest pain imaginable

engulfed his very being. When it was over the doctor said, "Well, that should teach you never to tamper with the device. It is in your back for good."

"I guess so," Jaka said as he huffed and puffed. "And you'll be first on my to-kill list once I get out of here."

"I have heard that many times," grumbled the doctor, patting Jaka's back to ensure whatever was in there stayed. "But you don't know my name, where I live, even where this place is. This place could be on the North Pole for all you know."

"It's nice out," Jaka said. "I know what latitude we're at."

"Good luck finding this place from _that_ information," said the doctor. "Anyway, you're ready for discharge. And remember, we can track your every move."

"Not my thoughts," said Jaka.

He rose up from the torture bed and started walking past the doctor and through the open gate into the hallway. Yes, even rat and spider-infested dungeons had hallways. But that was not important so Jaka pushed it from his mind.

He had to get away from this place. "The door's locked!" yelled the doctor, an old and sallow man of about sixty. Of course, Jaka had stolen his keys. He opened the door to the dungeon and locked the doctor in. This was what he had planned. Everything so far was going perfectly.

And if the doctor didn't know magic, as Jaka suspected he didn't, then he wouldn't be able to call for help. For a few days, at least.

But then Jaka halted in his steps. Why? Because he had no clothes on. He had been in here long enough for him to disregard that fact. So he opened the dungeon door again and went back in. The doctor was lying against one of the wall of the cell, weeping.

Jaka stripped him of his clothes without a fight: the doctor didn't want to die, so he stripped bare when he saw Jaka coming. Jaka didn't thank him. In fact, he bludgeoned the doctor with his fist once and watched as he fell unconscious, and then he shook him to make sure he wasn't acting. Jaka was pleased that he didn't find anything awake in the doctor's body. Now came the hard part: making his way past multiple guards. He would use his training

and put it to use after weeks and months of rotting away. He was extremely hungry, of course, and they had just given him bread and water, a torture in itself, so his frame was as gaunt as the God of Death would allow before taking his life. He walked past the dying corpses again and shut the door to the dungeon and locked it. He walked up a set of stairs and heard the voices of a couple of men talking.

"Who goes here?" shouted one of them.

"It's me," Jaka pantomimed in a voice that he hoped would sound like the doctor's. He wheezed as he ascended the final steps. Once he heard the guards talking again he knew that this would be his only chance: he vaulted over the last step

and came face to face with both of them, who were both waiting with huge clubs. Jaka had little time for irony as

they both came for him, swinging their sticks. They, also, evidently had training. Jaka just wished his training would outlast theirs.

He slid underneath the first one, who was so surprised at the move that he let his guard down. Jaka deftly kicked him where it hurt the most and stole his club as the guard doubled down screaming. "Just one now," Jaka said, already beginning to tire.

But he masked it well. Nevertheless, the brave guard, drawing a sword, yelled epithets as he charged him. Jaka deftly stepped to the side, drawing whatever reserves he had left, and then crashed his club down on the guard's skull. The guard dropped, as Jaka knew he would.

But the sound the guard made when he crashed to the floor was doubtless to attract more guards. Jaka stripped the guard of his clothing and put them on. He didn't bother to redress the guard with the doctor's clothing, as whoever ruled this place would eventually figure out what happened. But Jaka, filled with newfound hope and energy, took the guard's keys and unlocked the barred door. Then he slinked against the wall and listened. No sound. But maybe they had heard the fighting, so Jaka waited a little more. Finally, driven by an insatiable desire for food, he began walking along the wall. He came to another hallway, created from stone instead of metal. It was quite cold here, but not as cold as the dungeons.

Then he heard someone walking down the corridor. The steps grew louder but not slower or faster, so immediately Jaka stepped out from behind his wall and took his newly-acquired sword to use. There was one problem, however, and Jaka immediately stopped when he saw it: it was a maiden, a beautiful one at that.

She froze as well and the two of them just stood there. Then came a call: "Gracie! Gracie? Grace?" It was a woman's voice and it echoed down the passageway. Jaka did the only thing he could do: "My lady," he said hoarsely, "I have been wrongly imprisoned. Where does m'lady advise me to go?"

She pointed to her right and immediately Jaka strode hurriedly down the passageway. "Thank you, m'lady," he whispered. "I am forever in your debt." Then he broke into a run, if you could call it that. It was more like a weak trot. Jaka saw again how much he needed sustenance immediately. He began sniffing for signs of a cookfire. Then, after a couple of minutes, he smelled one: not just a cookfire but more... it must be the kitchens! Jaka began salivating uncontrollably and wiped his mouth on his garments. He sheathed his sword and stumbled into the kitchen, hoping he didn't smell too bad but knowing that he should definitely not stand within a couple of meters from any other person. He would have to take a long bath somewhere, if he ever got out of this place.

A chef, or rather a peon working for a chef, saw him and immediately took a piece of bread and a piece of meat and handed them to Jaka.

Jaka took them without a word and said, "I've taken sick. Could you please tell me the quickest way from this place to the front of the palace?"

"Down the path," the peon whispered. None of the other workers had noticed them so far, or it was possible that none of them cared.

"Thank you," whispered Jaka, the escaped prisoner turned guard. He set off down the passageway confidently, and then once he was out of range of the kitchens he stuffed his face with the food. He stopped halfway though, and put the rest in his robes--he didn't want to actually become sick after so many months in the dungeons. He now needed water--lots of it. But that would have to wait until he escaped the palace through and through.

There was suddenly light, and a lot of noise. A bunch of armored guards clambered down some nearby steps. This could only mean one thing. Jaka tried to look as well-fed as possible and shouted, "Here, guards! He went that way! He wounded me and has a sword. Tread carefully!"

They all rushed past, but the last one looked him up and down with an expression of distaste. Jaka hurried now, as they would be on his trail within a few minutes. He walked quickly to the side of the stairs and then nonchalantly strode, sword in hand, down the multiple marble steps. He didn't even know where he was, only that there was a great city below the steps and beyond that was a great plain that stretched into forever. He kept his eyes from wandering too much, instead looking right in front of him as a disciplined soldier should. He pushed past

a couple of street vendors at the bottom of the steps and found himself standing on solid cobblestone. That would make this province a rich one, because they had found the time and money to pay people for paving streets instead of just farming. Jaka didn't know how he knew this, but he knew. He tried to think back to his youth, his homeland, but it wouldn't come. He would have punched himself in the face in order to think back, if it would have worked and if he wasn't surrounded by quickly-moving people. He didn't want to end up in the insane portion of the dungeon. How he knew this, he still didn't know.

Sooner or later, he would have to steal or he would have to sell himself for servitude. As he had no money at the moment,

He walked until he found a porter. He was about to speak to him until he remembered he needed to get as far from the palace as possible in order to avoid the guards. This porter would surely give him up to the guards, as he had no reason not to. So stealing was the only solution.

He saw a street gang and approached them. They backed away, scared of someone who looked like was about to die. "I have a proposal," said Jaka. "You cause the distraction and I steal the food."

"Are you crazy?" said one of them. "We're too close to the palace!"

It was a good thing he had pointed that out, as there were guards coming their way. Jaka ducked into a nearby shop. He breathed a sigh, for the air in the shop was pleasant, the combined aromas of a few dozen candles.

"Hello?" quavered the voice of an old woman. Jaka peered around the corner and saw her and her husband behind a counter. Then he heard the thieves talking outside. He didn't hear what they were saying but he didn't need to--he heard the tones of their voices: they weren't betraying him. Or at least it seemed this way at first.

"We'll find him," one of them said loudly. "Thank you for your support, Officer. Yes, don't worry, it'll happen soon." A pause. Then, "Of course. The king himself, you say? Well, we'll try our best. Thank you. Goodbye."

One of them opened the door. Jaka hid behind a display. The thief sniffed: "Hmm, doesn't look like he's here," he said. "It smelled too nice in here, and he smells horrible."

Thanks a lot, Jaka thought.

"You fool!" said another thief, smacking the first with something heavy. There was a muffled cry. "Now go in so I don't have to do that again."

The thief stumbled in. He looked this way and that before turning around and leaving. There was another muffled cry. Jaka knew his capture was imminent: he had next to no energy and thieves were usually brutal fighters.

So he decided to surrender on his own terms. He stepped out behind his fortress of candles and walked past the wounded thief into the center of a circle of six of them.

"Ah, there he is," said the lead thief. "Break one of his legs or something."

Suddenly, a compulsion made Jaka stick out his hand for a handshake. The lead boss narrowed his eyes and spat on the ground, some of it reaching Jaka. "Me?" he said. "Shake with... _you_?" Then his eyes widened.

He couldn't take his eyes off of something--then he finally broke free of the spell and ran. Most of the thieves followed him. The wounded one didn't--he too looked at something on Jaka and then ran in a completely different direction. It was as if he didn't remember where his cohorts had run.

Jaka was stunned. He had merely stuck out his hand. Then he saw it: a black circle on top of each finger of his right hand. He knew it meant something... _something_! But he could not remember.

"Excuse me, son," said the elderly man who had just opened the door to the shop: "Might you need some lodging or food? We have ample enough room for another boarder. You can stay for a few days if you wish."

"No, thanks," muttered Jaka. He continued walking. Eerily, he felt fine now: no hunger pangs and no weakness. He was still thin as a rail, though. And he had to get out of the city to escape anyone who might report him to the guards: if thieves would, then certainly the average citizen would. He walked, head down, into the city. His goal was to reach the other side and the plains. Hopefully the reach of the kingdom didn't go that far.

So he chose another alleyway so that there would be less people. He still had his sword, and as soon as he arrived at a fountain he ate the remaining bread and meat and washed it down with water.

The fountain, he noticed after he had drunk his fill, was in the shape of a serpent. Something in his mind told him that this symbol was evil and must be eradicated. But Jaka had no molten iron tools nor a fire, so the best he could do was urinate on it. But even this he dared not do, for he had looked around and seen the faces of little children from the windows.

He moved on through the city and then the noise of people became louder and louder. He had reached a huge marketplace, full of fruits and vegetables and bread and fur and flies feasting on rotten fruit.

He had picked up some coins that were strewn in the street and especially in the fountain: these he gave to a fat merchant with balding hair and an enormous mustache. "Whad'ya want?" said the merchant. "Meat pies? A salad? Although I'm personally against eating leafy greens, myself. So what'll it be?"

"I'd love an ear of corn,"

Jaka said, looking directly into the merchant's eyes.

"Quite a personality you have there," commented the merchant. "I can give you most of your coins back."

"I'd love to get away from here," said Jaka quickly, using his instincts, which said to trust this man.

The man's eyes narrowed: "Where do you want to go?"

"Oh, just out of here," Jaka said. When he saw that the man's eyes were still narrowed, he said, "I just escaped from prison. The torture chambers. I do not know of my former past; perhaps the torturers erased them from my mind."

"Come here," the man said, looking around. His gaze caught on something. "There are troops headed this way. Come hide in the back, where my family is."

Jaka made no protest as the man motioned him into his stall and into the tent in the back. There was no one there. "Just hide here, and _stay_ here," said the merchant, massaging his head with his dirty palms.

"My wife will be here presently."

Jaka was surprised: in his last sentence, the merchant had sounded like a nobleman.

But of course he didn't say anything, for the object was to keep quiet.

"Yes, what can I help you with?" he heard the merchant's booming voice say.

"Man about this tall, wearing a guard's uniform," muttered the soldier.

"Don't know who you're referring to," said the merchant. "You said he was wearing a guard's uniform?"

"Don't know what--" and then there was a loud crash. The merchant arrived at the tent: "Come, ride with me. We only have two horses and my wife and children can stay here at a secure location. You must come."

Jaka didn't refuse.

"What's your name, son?" said the merchant as he pulled the body of the soldier into the stall and under the counter. "It won't take long for them to notice, so hop on... there you go. We will talk as soon as we get to a safe place."

Jaka again didn't refuse: the man had seemed pretty friendly thus far.

They both rode through the city streets away from the market. Then Jaka saw the palace. "I can't go back there," he told the man.

"This is the direction they will never search in," said the merchant, his horse huffing and puffing already. "We will switch horses once we reach the forest."

Jaka couldn't help but laugh at the comment.

They continued through a gate with a couple of sleepy-eyed guardsmen and into the forest which spread out beyond the back of the palace. "Ever been here before?" said the merchant. "Oh, no."

There was shouting from behind them and they urged their horses faster. "They have a problem," said the merchant. "They have too much forest to scout and too little men.

They will stop searching in about half an hour or so. There is only a small chance we will be caught."

Somehow not so comforted with the situation, again all Jaka could do was follow this man.

Both their horses were entirely exhausted after walking up a hill for two hours. They sighted a small stream and let their horses rest. "We would have to slaughter them if we tired them any longer," said the merchant. "Here, I don't even know your name. I'm Jumbert."

"I'm Jaka," said Jaka, wondering if he should have used a fake name. It was over now, though.

The man spat on the ground. "Do you even know what that means?" he said, through gritted teeth.

"No," said Jaka.

"You don't want to know. Choose a new name."

"Maybe I can take your name?" Jaka suggested, and then he felt faint. "Until tomorrow," he said, dropping on the ground, unconscious.

He woke to the smell of burnt bread and cheese. "Good, you're up," said the man. "Here, I took a couple of oranges. Eat one or die."

Jaka laughed at the jibe. "Where are we going?" he said.

"Deeper into the forest, my brother. We must go visit some friends of mine. And see my extended family, of course."

"Can I have some bread and cheese?" asked Jaka.

"No, that's mine," said the merchant. "Of course you can, you dolt! Just eat quickly, we should go now."

Jaka ate quickly and they rode again. Fortunately for the horses and by association for them, the horses had made a full recovery and the ground was now level. They covered a good distance before they set down next to another small stream for lunch.

The merchant smacked his own forehead again: "Right! What do I call you? I can't call you 'Jaka' because that means a rude part of some animal. I will call you Chadler. And don't complain, it's a good, reputable name."

They had been mostly silent while riding the horses, in case the wrong ears were about.

But now Jaka was permitted to ask questions. "Firstly," he said to the merchant, "Who am I?"

The merchant shrugged while chewing on a piece of jerky. "How would I know? I was just minding my business in the market when you came along."

"Don't lie to me," said Jaka. "You were ready for a getaway at any time and you even killed a soldier. Now please tell me the truth."

"I can't," admitted the man with some sadness.

"I swore an oath. But for now consider me a simple smuggler, alright? The less people know of me the better.

They will debrief you once we reach camp, where you will also hopefully get your memories back. And you will be able to ask questions there."

"Very well," countered Jaka, still hungry and weak but able to hold his own now. "So we are riding into the evening as well?"

"Correct," said the merchant, finishing his jerky and tossing some pieces of fat on the ground, causing vultures to dive and fight each-other for the measly scrap.

"Here we go, saddle up."

They saddled and rode again. Here and there there was a marked trail, but for the most part they went off the trails and were barely able to make their way. "Don't want to leave any footprints," explained the merchant.

"But I thought we were past the threat?"

"Just making sure," said the merchant.

"There are other hostile servants that would seek to stop us. In fact..." and his face went white.

Jaka looked. There was a large black mass that was flying its way toward them

"Stay behind me," instructed the merchant. "I haven't banished one before but I did stop one temporarily."

_Hooray_ , Jaka's mind sang sarcastically.

The black thing rushed them, and Jaka cowered for safety while the merchant drew a flaming sword, to Jaka's surprise. He didn't know who to be afraid of more now, his friend or the black monstrosity.

The black and the red met, and the black split into two parts down the middle. They each tried to get up and fly themselves, but they didn't have enough lift. The merchant proceeded to cut these two pieces into many smaller pieces. Then, when he was done, he dug a few holes in the ground with his sword and put the black things into them. Then he said to Jaka, "Would you mind helping me put the dirt back on top of these things?" Jaka of course complied and

helped. When it was over he asked the merchant for his name.

"My name?" said the merchant, incredulously. "Why do you need my name?" When he saw Jaka's reaction, he said, "Ha, I made you fall for it. My name is Prestor, at your service."

"What was _that_?"

"Oh, just an unfriendly welcome from one of our adversaries. But since I killed it, it won't transmit our location back to it's master. Or masters."

"I think of myself as a brave man, but yet I cowered before that thing," Jaka said.

"Don't worry," said Prestor. "You'll get used to them. Come on, only two hours to go, and we need to make it by nightfall else one of thost black things will tear us apart when we can't see it. Come now."

They both looked around and realized the horses had gone. Prestor swore and said, "Bullocks, I'm in no condition to walk, but walk I must. You must make sure I do not fall off a cliff in my moments of exhaustion."

"Very well," said Jaka. "You know, I think my memory is coming back. I used to be a painter."

Prestor chuckled. "Now I _don't_ remember you as a painter, but as a lumberjack."

"You knew me?" asked Jaka, aghast. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Too early, too much," said Prestor, huffing and puffing his way up the slight incline. "I would have seemed as crazy to you, not someone who was just waiting for vagrants in order to protect them."

"I'm not a vagrant," said Jaka. "I was in the dungeons, not on the streets."

"Trust me," Prestor said, stopping for a bit to rest.

"I know. But the streets are worse. Do you know how cold it gets at night on the streets? And no one to take you in. The jealousy is almost worse than the cold."

Jaka grunted and pulled on Prestor's arm. "Come on, you dolt," he told him. "We're almost there."

After a few hours of inclines and a few rests beside various streams, they finally reached the summit. "I had no idea this was a mountain," said Jaka.

"It isn't," said Prestor, gazing down three thousand meters to the city below. "It's a rise. It's different, it's only a mountain on one side."

"Whatever," said Jaka, but then backtracked. "I apologize, I'm just moody after all this hiking with no trail."

"Don't worry," Prestor puffed, winking. The trail we are about to embark on is actually marked, and it's all downhill.

"Sometimes they say downhill is worse than uphill," said Jaka.

"Good, your memory's coming back. Follow me and don't let me fall." Prestor picked up a hefty stick from the ground and broke off its branches. "In the case that you fail, this thing will serve as my burial pyre." Jaka was glad to see that Preston still retained his sense of humor.

They started down the path with a sense of comfort that soon turned into trepidation. The path had become steep and rockfalls were imminent: one happened just meters behind them. They were both too nervous to talk, and besides, talking could bring on more avalanches. The only thing they were able to do was creep, one foot in front of the other, and hope that they would still be alive when they got to the bottom.

But their hopes were interrupted: someone was trying to get to the top.

They encountered him about a third of the way down. He was traveling up the winding path and he was wearing armor and carrying a sword. When he came within voice range he said, "Step aside, or I will slit your throats."

Prestor responded, "I think it is you, friend, who need to be afraid. Your sword is no match against mine."

The man laughed and laughed. When he finally stopped, he said, "No, friend fat man: I think it is you who will end up falling to those sharp stones so far, far below. Shall we see who wins?"

Jaka took a rock, a large stone, and threw it at the adversary. It clunked off his armor

and he fell. All the way to the bottom. And with him went part of the path.

"Please refrain from calling me an idiot," said Jaka. "Forgive me; I was only trying to protect us."

"I wish I could say I had the situation under control," Prestor said.

"You did well, Chadler. Better than I could have done had I been in your place."

"I am such a weakling, that was all I was able to do," chuckled Jaka. "And don't call me Chadler. It sounds like I'm a horse."

"Well, you _are_ one, aren't you?" retorted Prestor. "Oh, dear." And the ground under his feet caved in. He desperately held onto the path with both hands but he was slipping quickly. FIve meters away stood Jaka, unable to help: if he walked any closer the rest of the path would cave in.

"Go... to the city," Prestor croaked, almost gone now. "They--" and he fell, screaming, from the cliff.

Jaka watched his friend get pierced by the sharp rocks. It wasn't like he hadn't seen such a thing before, it was just that he couldn't remember when he had seen it. Briefly he wondered if he was simply a reanimated dead person that someone had stolen from the morgue,

but that explanation didn't seem satisfactory. He sighed, looking down at the now-bloody rocks, and continued his journey.

He deftly jumped over the break in the trail created by Chadler

and continued walking. His foot hit something sharp and he almost fell off the path, but he steadied himself at the last minute by windmilling his arms. Somehow, he thought this was quite comical, and started chuckling. When that subsided he started walking at triple speed down the path: Chadler had walked quite slowly, after all. Jaka shook his head at the thought of Chadler, his guide. Now he was on his own again, he would have to use his instincts to pick out another person he could trust.

He made it down the mountain in good time, and walked the remaining kilometers to the city. He thought it might be hard to explain the fact that he was dressed as a guard and had no money and had actually met Chadler and had seen him killed.

But it was his only chance, as they would arrest and imprison him in that other city that he had escaped from. At least he didn't have blood on his clothing: that would be _really_ hard to explain.

He finally emerged out of the forest. He saw a long field and then a gate. The gate was part of a wall, and there were soldiers at the top of it.

One of them bellowed at him once he had reached the gate: "State your business, man! Who are you?"

Here was the hard part: telling the truth. "Well," Jaka began,

"I have escaped from prison."

"From where?" the guard demanded, his booming voice falling down upon Jaka like an anvil.

"That city back there, beyond this mountain," said Jaka.

"You don't even know it's name?" laughed the guard. His companions also burst into laughter.

"Look at me," gestured Jaka. "I am thin as a rail and I'm told my name means some kind of unclean thing. I don't even have my memories; I have amnesia!."

One of the guards whispered something to the lead. The lead then whispered something to the guard who spoke for them.

"Fine, you can come in," said the guard. "But only under certain conditions. You'll be informed of them shortly." He cupped his hands to his mouth: "Open the gate!"

There must have been some elephants there moving the gate, because it took almost a minute to fully open it. Jaka simply ducked under the half-opened gate and saw himself surrounded by guards, including the lead. "Come with us," he said, prodding Jaka's back with the pommel of his sword.

They walked through the city, which looked drastically different from the other city he had escaped from. For one, the cobblestones weren't dark--they were white. And frequently he could hear singing coming out of the various taverns. Even the working people seemed to be in good spirits: a blacksmith raised his hand in greeting as Jaka's party passed his shop, and a butcher shook his raw side of beef at them, to the consternation of the guards. "Get back to work, hound!" said the lead to the butcher, who simply smiled.

"Why is everyone so happy here?" Jaka asked the lead guard in amazement.

"The king is dead," said the captain. "He had levied many taxes upon rich and poor alike. The coronation of his son is to take place tomorrow at high noon."

"Fascinating," Jaka said, to no response.

They arrived at the palace. "Prisoner transport," announced the captain, and the doors opened.

" _Prisoner_ transport?" asked Jaka.

"We don't want to alert anyone that someone important is coming," said the captain. "We don't want you to be assassinated. There are many factions in this fine kingdom that are trying to gain more power."

"Ah," said Jaka.

"Stop talking," the guard behind him said, and smacked him on the back with his hand.

The guard was immediately silenced by an axe to the neck. "This man here is important," said the captain. "Anyone else who disrespects him will suffer the same fate."

They walked through endless rooms and hallways, all of which seemed to be getting cleaner as they progressed. Then they saw diamonds and pearls on courtiers' tiaras and necks and Jaka knew they were close.

Then they arrived at two huge double doors. "Throne room," the captain told him. "Don't walk too close to the king, you smell awful."

Jaka already knew this, but wisely he decided not to respond. Four guards, two on each side, strained with the doors and finally opened them with a crash. They walked in.

"Hail King Lindor of Rasavatia!" roared the captain.

"Hail," said the king, somewhat nonchalantly. He was wearing a modest yellow and purple outfit which reached down to his toes.

"And who do we have here? A prisoner?"

"No, sire," said the captain. "He has come from Lasavia where he had been imprisoned."

"Imprisoned? Why?"

"I believe he was... may we speak in private, majesty?"

"Of course," his highness snorted. "First day on the job, still have to deal with important matters, what will become of me? Let us retire." He led the captain to a back room, leaving his shiny gemstone-laden throne empty.

Jaka stared at the assembled courtiers and took in their dress and rank. The higher-up people wore furs and were seated nearest the throne. Then came the merchants, whom he assumed Chadler would have been part of, and then there were some petty farmers, and then even some serfs. Jaka pitied the serfs--he had once been one, though he didn't know how he knew. His hands ached to unbind their chains.

Presently the king returned with the captain at his side. He said, "Please come here, sir," indicating Jaka. "I must speak with you at once."

The room, which had previously hosted a light chatter, became silent at once. The king did not often call in commoners for private meetings, even if it was a new king.

"As you know," said the king once they had arrived in a private room,

"This is my first day as king. And I assume you escaped the dungeons of our accursed sister city Rasavatia?"

Jaka nodded mutely.

"Speak up, man. What is your name?"

Jaka told him.

"Do you even know what that means?" said the king. "Ah, I see by your expression that you don't. It is better off that you didn't know."

"That is what my late companion Chandler told me," said Jaka.

"Ah, Chandler," said the king. "My finest officer. Was he fat?"

"Yes, sire," said Jaka. "I think that impeded him, as he fell from the cliff path. He was too heavy to travel there."

The king sighed. "May he rest in peace," he said.

"I knew him well. He was so dedicated to his job that he gained a hundred stone just so the enemy would not recognize him."

"I have a peculiar question, sire," said Jaka.

"Yes? What is it? Out with it!"

"I do not know who I am. My first memory is of being in the dungeon of our enemies."

"Hah," the king said. "My apologies, it's just that your statement sounds so absurd, though I know it to be true.

You, my friend, were brainwashed by our enemy monarch. Do you know his name?"

"They always just referred to him as 'The King, May He Live a Long and Glorious Life,'" said Jaka.

"Quite a mouthful! How long were you there in the dungeons?"

"A few months, I don't know," said Jaka.

"About half a year, perhaps."

"Hmmm," said the king. "We need someone who will give you back your memories, if they have not been permanently scrubbed."

"That doesn't sound good," Jaka remarked.

"No, friend, it is not," said the king.

"But you remind me of someone I once knew... it is possible that you are actually him. We sent him to spy on the enemy almost ten years ago and he has not returned." The king stroked his mustache and then his beard. "Yes," he said, "Right away, I suppose. Please follow me, friend."

They walked down a stone passageway and Jaka was suddenly scared. What of? The answer was obvious: "I don't suppose you intend to have me committed," said Jaka. "Your highness?"

"Yes, friend," said his highness. He seemed distracted.

"Never mind," Jaka said. "Just this: where are we going?"

"It is necessary for you to be isolated in a room with one of our sorcerers for half a day," he said. "I don't know if it will hurt or not: I suspect it will, at least a little. He will probe your mind and release the chains set upon it almost ten years ago."

It was damp in the tunnel, and lichen was everywhere, fed by the occasional windows of sunlight that covered the top of the tunnel. Jaka thought this rather strange

but did not say a thing. Finally they reached a barred gate with eight guards guarding it.

"In you go," said the king. Jaka stepped into the prison and the doors locked behind him. He could see there was no sunlight in this portion of the tunnel.

"I suppose I'll see you soon?" said Jaka.

The king shrugged. "Maybe in a year or two, who knows?" he said. Then he laughed a deep, booming laugh: "Just kidding. I'll see you in twelve hours. Bright and early in the morning. Guards, send clothing to this prince. I don't want him looking shabby tomorrow."

"As you wish, sire," said one of the guards, who rushed away.

"Just walk until you see the first room on your left," instructed the king to Jaka. "I expect my sorcerer is already there."

Jaka complied, though he felt cold and irritable. Why another prison? Why couldn't they do it in a normal room? Jaka would have been furious if he hadn't been talking to a king. He would take out his anger on the gods, who controlled everything. Jaka made that promise just before he saw the room he was to go to.

The door was completely covered in leaves, even though it was almost pitch black in the tunnel. Was it a sorcerer's trick? Jaka had no idea, but he just wanted to get the twelve-hour sentence over with as soon as possible so he could get a bath and some food and a long, long rest in a clean bed.

He opened the door and went in. It shut delicately behind him. That was one thing that was different already from a normal cell. Jaka knew now that the king was telling the truth.

The room was white and shaped as a cube. Once the door shut Jaka could no longer see it. He was at the sorcerer's mercy. So he sat down on the floor and waited for the sorcerer to appear.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Half an hour.

Still nothing. Jaka was about to start shouting for help when the sorcerer appeared. He was a little wizened dumpling of a man who was carrying a green pointed hat in his right hand. The other hand held a wand and something Jaka didn't recognize. The man's robes were brown and not abnormally eye-catching.

Daring to speak first, Jaka said, "A modest wizard? What have we here?"

The wizard laughed. "I am neither wizard nor sorcerer, as the king calls me. I am an elf."

"A _what_?"

"I knew you in your former life, you who call yourself Jaka," said the elf.

"You had a nice wife and a family. But they were murdered by enemy agents from our sister city. So you agreed to undergo the procedure."

Things were already returning to Jaka. Things he hadn't thought about in ten years. "My name is Relan!" he gasped. "I know my name!"

"Good," said the elf.

"It's starting to come back. But you will need my assistance." The elf rolled up the sleeves of his robe to reveal gleaming white limbs with perfect muscles: not too bony and not too stout. "Do you know where my people are from, Relan? Do you know where we call home?"

"Where?" Jaka challenged.

"The stars, of course," said the elf pompously. "We are not restricted to one planet like your species is."

"Does his majesty know you are not human?" said Jaka.

The elf laughed. "His majesty doesn't know much," he said. "You do know it's his first day, don't you?"

"No, nobody told me anything," said Jaka.

The elf laughed again. "Well, hopefully you will know both him and me again once I'm done with you. You do know we have twelve hours, do you not?"

"I'm aware of that," said Jaka. He wished the elf would just get on with it already.

"You're so easy to read," said the elf. "You just want to get this over with already. Fine, then: no more talk. Just... therapy..." and he blew some blue air out of his mouth, which Jaka thought quite peculiar because air wasn't usually blue...

and then the white room became a purple room, and then it vanished altogether. Jaka was riding a horse beside the elf, who was also riding. They were travelling down to the countryside on an errand for the king. Jaka heard himself talking:

"Julius, you are too naive. No one ever comes down this way! You'd have to travel through the capital first!"

"I still think they should have sent an escort with me," grumbled the elf, urging his mount to run faster.

As if to follow up on his words, a band of marauders wearing black clothing appeared in front of them. Relan glanced at the elf but the elf wasn't there anymore. Relan knew that his friend Julius the elf would have saved him if he could; Relan knew that concretely. But he had to fight eight men single-handed now, and what were his odds? He just hoped his fencing practice the other day had shined up his rust.

The first two came at him and he did a somersault on the ground between them, slashing at both of their horses' legs. He hated taking his wrath out on innocent animals, but that was what the scene required as of now.

Both the horses and their riders fell. Relan immediately looked up from the conclusion of his somersault and saw two more black-clad riders closing in.

They had seen their fellow riders fall, and would not succumb to the same tactic this time. They both rode wide of Relan's arc and were followed by the four remaining riders. Together they formed a circle

around Relan. The memory ended.

Relan sat on the floor of the white cube, exhilarated. The elf Julius looked at him. "Well?" the elf queried.

"I saw how I was captured," said Relan from between gritted teeth. "I wonder how I ever liked the name 'Jaka,'" he continued. "Probably the guards chose it for me."

"Probably," the elf agreed.

"Now for your next memory: be careful, this one is a little hard to swallow." The elf frowned and snapped his fingers.

Relan now found himself surrounded by men who were beating him. There was no recess from it: as soon as one man finished, another started. Relan found himself as near death as he had ever been in his life.

And somehow, he knew that it was from the same six men who had captured him.

But how could they get into the jail?

By this time Relan relocated the pain of the beating to a forgotten corner of his mind while he searched for answers. The six men somehow posed as criminals to gain entrance to his cell.

They must have beaten somebody or bribed somebody. But who in the kingdom would do that? They'd be executed the moment they were found out!

They beat him until he was at Death's door and then left. Relan was so incubated inside himself that he didn't notice they were gone.

Then, Relan somehow had no memory of anything that had happened earlier in life.

"Hmm," Relan could hear the elf muttering through the memory.

Then several months went by, seemingly in fast-forward. The black-clad men all came to check on him, six at a time, though Relan could not tell whether they were the same six.

Then came the end. The doctor had performed several "treatments" on him, inserting a different machine into his body each time. But they weren't just machines, were they? The elf's muttering returned him to consciousness. He stared at the elf without comprehension: he wasn't sure if he was free or still in the cell.

"Did you like that one?" said the elf eagerly. "Can you tell me any details about the doctor or about the six men?"

Relan had been breathing heavily; now he slowed it down with big deep breaths.

"No," he said finally. "I know what the doctor looks like but the six men never took off their masks."

"Did you listen to any of them talk?"

"They never talked," said Relan. "But one of them was really tall. Like six and a half meters tall."

"Do you remember the doctor?"

"Wait," said Relan. "How do you know what my memories are?"

"I experience the memories as you do," explained the elf, "but less clearly. That's why I have to ask you questions."

"Makes sense," nodded Relan, "but in a way that I don't really understand."

"It's alright," said the elf. "Relan, I have known you since you were born, not to mention your father and father's father as well.

They all had to undergo this procedure as well. They were all spies, just as you are, or were. And I was the one to debrief them."

"I don't understand," said Relan. "So I didn't have a choice? I had to become a spy?"

"You were sort of pushed into it, I guess, but in the end it was your choice. Your father and grandfather had spotless records: even when the enemy flushed them, there was no record of them having been from here or working for us."

"Was I forced into it?" Relan repeated.

The elf sighed. "No, you weren't. But you knew that you were the only option candidate for us to magically program to be an asset to us. You were there for a few months in their dungeons. But before that

you spent over ten years gathering valuable information for us."

"Did I have a family?" said Relan.

"Yes. Yes, you do and they were all crying when you left over ten years ago. Your wife and children are safe and sound thanks to your work."

Relan was crying now. "May I meet them?"

"Of course," said the elf. "Our debriefing is actually over. I just need to take all the implants out of your head and body. They use those to spy on us, you see."

The elf pressed on Relan's back. It hurt so much but instead of screaming out in pain he silenced it, so it was only internal.

"My," said the elf, "impressive. You're not screaming but you're shivering all over. And it's warm inside this thing."

"Yes," Relan managed to say, but then the convulsions got wilder so he did start howling.

"There we go, let it out," coaxed the elf, "let it all out."

"Am I almost cured?" chattered Relan, moaning in between words.

"Yes, you are, in fact," said the elf. "They didn't do a very good job on you over there. I suppose they thought you would never escape the dungeon."

"Yes, it does seem like that," Relan said, striking his beard. "I need to get rid of this," he said suddenly. "Do you have a razor?"

"You are quite silly," said the elf, "for the king has made it clear, even on this first day of his kingship,

that he will not tolerate razors. If you would like a nice, clean beard, it is your choice. Personally I am very lucky because elves don't grow beards.

That is just me, though. I'm the token elf in the castle!" and he laughed flippantly.

"Okay, I'm done," he said after a moment. "You have one device remaining in your body. It is a simple tracking device. Your brother the king told me I should put it in. Our own necromancy is far more powerful than the enemies, so

we're not worried about _them_ tracking you." He paused for a moment and then said, "I have a proposition for you. I will depose your brother as king and install you in his place, if you make me your top advisor."

"Are you serious?" remarked Relan. "I mean, why would I want any harm to my brother? And I didn't even know he _was_ my brother!"

"Well now you know," said the elf rather hastily. "I would hate to see any harm come to you should your brother decide you had to go out to the field for another ten years."

"I agree," said Relan simply and slowly, because he had no idea if the elf was telling the truth. He didn't recall him from his pre-spy days so he must have been a recent acquisition.

"So I guess we're ready to go, then?" stuttered the elf in a high-pitched voice.

Something was definitely going on.

"Very well," Relan sighed, and tried to look like he cared less what came next.

"Good! Good!" said the elf, grooming his hair from scalp to waist.

"Let me present you to the king."

They both slowly walked down the never-ending hallway and up some stone steps. Relan didn't like to think how much this experience reminded him of the one he had experienced with the enemy...

He retired to the sauna to bathe and dress, and then walked before the king. There was a long red carpetway that spanned the length of the Great Hall. There were ample numbers of courtiers, as before, resplendent and arrogant: a few pretended to spit on him as he approached the king.

"So!" said the king. "My brother, the prince, has finally come home! And he did it himself! Tell us the story, won't you, brother?"

"Well, sire and brother, I cannot recall all of it, for it was too deep in my mind or some such thing," Relan started.

"What? This is an outrage! Get me that elf! All of you!" he motioned his hands and all twelve of his pages ran off to different corners of the palace.

"My apologies, brother," he said to Relan. "I was always suspicious of that elf... but he had served the country so well since he changed his allegiances."

"Sire, does he work for the enemy?" asked Relan.

"It looks like he does," said Relan. "He is usually right here by my side."

"Sire!" came one of the runners: "His belongings are naught. He has fled the castle."

The king waited for most of the other runners to come back before saying, "Start the hunt. We must stop him before he gets to his ship."

"I'm a good sailor, sire," said Relan.

"It's no ordinary ship, brother," he said to Relan. "This ship travels through _space_."

"I'm afraid I feel my strength flagging, sire," said Relan. "Might I take some respite?"

"Bring over the food!" the king howled, and several servants set out moving the tables at the far corners of the room next to the throne and the second, smaller throne that Relan was sitting on.

"I'm afraid you'll have to rest on the way, brother," said the king. "Do you remember our dear Mother? She used to fall asleep anywhere, anytime... I wish we could be more like her, huh?" he said, elbowing Relan in the ribs.

Relan spit out a chicken leg and some rice. "No problem, sire, you forgot," he said, coughing blood into a clean white napkin.

"Oh, brother," said the king. "Prepare clean linens! And a bed! And who made this wine, it's disgusting!"

"That," said the king to Relan, "is the chief pleasure of being a king. But I'm not sure I could ever get used to it! It's like the first time, every time!"

Relan chuckled along with his brother the king, but he was beginning to find the conversation tiresome.

"I hardly recognize you, you know, brother?" said the king. "Only the eyes are the same. Beyond that, you could be any old skeleton lying by the side of the road. They really did punish you badly in prison."

Relan didn't comment, but he shook his head. "I only remember most, but not all," he said. "For instance, I don't remember any of my family. I don't even know what my wife looks like!"

"Do you remember _me_?" said the king.

"Yes, sire, I do," said Relan, though he remembered little but their childhood together. "But for instance, I do not recognize this hall, nor any of the servants, nor much about our parents."

The king slapped one of his armrests, then nursed his aching palm. Servants promptly arrived and lifted both the king and Relan onto a divan that was carried by eight soldiers. There was a white canopy above and beside them. "Do you like it?" said the king. "I love the luxurious life. You do know how our parents passed, do you not, little brother?" he said. Relan shook his head. "Well, they were poisoned.

"By the enemy!"

"Are you sure of this, sire?" offered Relan, still chewing on a chicken leg, which he wanted to spit out but instead swallowed.

"Who else could it have been?"

"Well, that elf..."

"Yes, he must have been working for the enemy," said the king, crunching into an apple. "That cannot be helped. The real enemy is where you just came from. Look at you, brother! You're a skeleton! But I told you that already," he said and downed some wine.

The servants were moving slowly but surely. It was sure to be a long walk, but all of them had enormous muscles. Relan wondered why they wouldn't attempt a coup--they would obviously win.

As if sensing his thoughts, his brother the king responded, "They think the king is chosen by the gods. Personally I don't subscribe to such a notion, but perhaps in a little while... a few weeks, or months, perhaps, I will become so self-assured that I will make this my doctrine."

"You do know, sire," Relan said, cutting into the king's reverie, "the elf offered to make me king. I refused, of course, and that's when he left and put something in my back which is irremovable."

"Ah, balderdash," said the king, chuckling, "As long as we have the right tools, anything is possible. Or the right magic. But since I'm not a magician, I can't swear by that."

"What is my family like, sire, if you don't mind me asking?"

"They were mine as well, and shared half my seed," said the king, "or at least the biologists tell me so. You have a beautiful wife, Cecilia, who is still only twenty-five years of age, and you have three children, Rebecca, Leah and Sarah."

"Curious names," sniffed Relan, sounding pretentious purposefully in order to bond with his brother. "I wonder where she got them."

"You helped pick out the names, too, you know," said the king as they swayed side to side and up and down with movements of the soldiers. "A little more smooth, please!" the king barked at them through the silk covering that served as a wall. "Anyway--"

"He--the elf, sire--said that you wanted him to put in a tracking device; that, supposedly, is the only device in me right now, though if he's working for the elves it could be something entirely different..."

"Me? I would never order such a thing," said the king. "He must have just wanted to serve the elves better. What a bunch of balderdash."

"Let us go and find him, then," said Relan.

"What is it you think we're doing, brother?" the king roared.

"We're moving awful slow," Relan said. "Why can't we ride horses instead of using this divan carried by servants like savages like to do!"

"Now that's what I like to hear!" said the king, tittering and obviously drunk, and clapping his brother on his back.

"Thank you," Relan muttered obliquely, sure that the king couldn't hear him.

"Now we need to figure out just where the elves are," said the king, apparently refocused on the task at hand.

"Where are we going?"

"Into the forest," said the king. "It's called various names by those who currently own it. Currently there's a state of war in there, and our enemies, who are not the enemies you escaped from,

have entrenched themselves there. But of course we have shouters marching ahead of us mentioning the fact that we're coming and that we should join against a common enemy. After all, these elves supposedly come from other planets, and why would they want to fraternize among us if not to conquer us and subdue us?"

"It sounds so simple, sire," said Relan. "And yet I have not seen my family yet nor do I remember them."

"That sounds like a complaint, so you'd better shut your mouth, brother, if you're going to say something like that!"

"I shall be quiet, then," Relan said. His brother the king sniffed.

"I had them come along so you could see them," said the king, "but I'd much rather talk to you. Very well, I'll let you meet with them for a time. We've hours before we reach the forest, honestly."

"Very well, then, sire, thank you," said Relan and stooped to kiss his brother's hand.

"None of that balderdash!" groaned the king, snatching his hand away. "I've had enough honor today."

"Thank you, sire," Relan murmured, and then vaulted from the coach, his muscles already feeling better thanks to the food. He stumbled still upon reaching the ground, and had to right himself using his arms.

"You're windmilling, brother! Windmilling!" shouted the king from his perch. "Sorry, it's just so funny to watch!"

Relan doffed his cap at his brother the king

and steadily walked past the coach, which was going all of two leagues an hour, and to the soldiers and trumpeters who walked miles ahead of the king. He saw a flash of gold in the midst of the gray uniforms of the military and knew it was his wife. And children.

He didn't run, though: rather, he walked at a steady gait until he was within talking range. "Excuse me," he said, coughing into his hand because he didn't even remember their names: "I don't have my memories completely back, so--"

The woman threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on his mouth. Relan didn't pull back--she was a beautiful woman, after all--

But he didn't grasp her for more, either. He finally pulled back and said, "I'm sorry, my wife and children," (there were three of them) "but my memories aren't quite what they used to be. The accursed elf stole them from me. I'm afraid I'm going to... what?"

They all were giving him expressions of incomprehension. "What, you don't speak Common? Do I talk to you in Rawlish instead?" he said, switching to Rawlish.

"Only know a little Rawlish," said the middle child, a boy of about five.

"What language should I use, then?"

"You don't know any Frereish?" whispered the beautiful woman.

Relan tried to remember, and he remembered many languages but not what they were called. He tried them all and finally found the right one, which they called Regrawlish, after the language it had evolved from. _Fascinating_ , Relan thought. It was a mixture of many of the languages he knew. "You all will have to correct me," said Relan.

"It was like that even when you did have your memories, father!" said the girl, who was about ten. She hugged him and he awkwardly patted her back.

She pulled back suddenly. "When will you get your memories back? You don't even know my name!"

"I'm sorry," Relan whispered. He strode away from them and headed to the scouts at the front of the line. His family's wailing continued echoing in his ears until he was a few hundred meters past them.

He asked the man at the front if there were any more scouts in front of them.

"Of course, your grace," said the man. He continued: "But these are highly trained scouts--fighters, in fact, is what they should be called. But I have heard tales of your valor in battle before

you became a spy. Quite the swordsman and fighter. But can you handle a bow?"

Relan answered that this was one of the best-kept secrets of the kingdom, and that the scout would be decapitated should he give the secret out to others.

The scout smiled. "Fine with me, your grace. You know, I've always wondered what it's like to be a prince... hold up!" and he stepped in front of Relan and took an arrow.

Relan looked down and saw the man's chest spurting blood. His head hung limp; he was dead.

He used the body as a shield as a rain of arrows pelted the dead man's torso and legs. None of them hit Relan but he felt the wind of them. He immediately

dropped to the ground and uttered a magic word he had learned from one of his tutors " _Crasla_ ," he whispered, and instantly there was an invisible shield in front of him.

He strode forward, dumping the body behind him. Arrows still pelted him but bounced off his shield or got lodged in its border. Which was mildly comical when you didn't consider that a man had just died.

A rider came up from behind. "Ah, gods damn it," he swore. "Charles is dead. I liked that chap."

"Do we know who is shooting at us?" Relan said.

"Negative," replied the officer.

"And you shouldn't be here. You are liable to get--" an an arrow pierced his neck. Relan cursed the inventor of the shield charm.

Who was shooting at them? That was the first thing Relan needed to know. He was at the front of the caravan, so he extended the shield to cover his entire body and motioned for the next scout a quarter mile in back of him to stop moving. In sign-language, he indicated that he was a magic-user and was going in. The scout issued an "okay" and signaled he would stay there. Relan entered the forest with trepidation, even though he had his shield charm on.

He didn't know what was in there... except that the elf had fled there. Perhaps the elf was gone already, and all signs of his spacecraft. Relan didn't know; he just knew that he had just been killed.

Not actually, of course. But the king had known Relan would want to go to the front and get hit by arrows. The king had no knowledge that Relan had acquired some magical abilities. All he knew was that everyone who went up to the front wasn't coming back.

So he tramped through the forest at a measured pace when he knew that the king's guard wasn't going at all and was getting shot from the trees.

He had learned magic from the doctor: yes, the torturer doctor. But apparently the doctor had felt that Relan would kill him and have the chance to make use of some magical abilities, because he taught Relan all he knew. It wasn't a lot and it also wasn't a little, and it was all experimental. Why experimental? Because Relan wasn't able to use it unless he escaped the dungeon. There was, the doctor told him, a screen around the dungeon made of dragon pelt, and of course everyone knew that dragon skin repelled all magic.

So the doctor had been right. Crazy, and blood and pain thirsty, but right. Relan prayed to the various gods that they would give him a true burial with all the fineries. But unfortunately they would probably want to incinerate his body as soon as possible in order to reduce the spread of all the diseases the doctor had picked up while torturing people in the dungeon.

Relan felt sufficiently better now.

He increased his speed to a trot and told his magic shield to cut a path for him. He was confident nobody from his brother's kingdom would be able to follow him despite knowing exactly where he went: they would all die by the arrow.

And the last magic user that Relan knew of was the elf. Unless...

Relan turned around. No, it couldn't be so: there was an eleven-year-old not far behind him! "My son!" he yelled. The boy didn't seem to hear him. He tried at a louder volume: this time the boy heard him and took down his field charm.

"No, don't take it off!" shouted Relan. He scrambled to make his own shield charm also protect his son from harm. "It's

_Father_!"

"I didn't know any father," said the boy cruelly, amplifying his own little voice so that it reached Relan.

"The king has put you against me!" said Relan. "But I didn't mean to be caught!"

"Well, you _were_!" the boy said. "For ten long years! Mother wasn't even able to remarry!"

"Just don't kill me!" said Relan. "Or I'll kill you first! You know I'm stronger than you!"

The boy broke down crying. Relan had to move in closer to listen, but he kept the shield charm around both of them.

"Stop chasing me so I won't kill you," instructed Relan.

"You don't even know my _name_!" cried his son, now completely helpless.

"They told me it was Lindor," said Relan truthfully. "After my brother, the userper."

" _Usurper_?" cried the boy. "It was _you_ who was to be the usurper!"

Relan realized now just how far his brother had poisoned his son's mind.

He put his son to sleep and put a permanent shield charm around him so no one would be able to harm him.

Relan strode on until he reached an open field. Just as the elf had informed him, there was indeed a spaceship there. It had two landing legs which looked like skis and had a few laser pods to blast anyone the elf didn't like out of existence. These were trivial things, he had learned about them as a young boy, and there were aircraft and spacecraft graveyards everywhere one went. The problem was, no one could make them because no one knew how they worked.

The spaceship was warm. Very warm. There was nobody around it: apparently the mysterious enemy that had rained the sky with arrows was nowhere to be found. So Relan made his shield very icy-cold, which required a lot of energy. But he had to get on the ship to question the elf, and this was a must.

He approached the extremely hot sheet with his extremely cold shield. The heat was coming from the burners on the ground, but on the nose, which was a few stories taller than ground-level, there was a door, and it was slowly closing. Perhaps it would have been best to describe it as a portal, or a hole. A hole, then. Circular and closing fast. Relan propelled himself upward with air elemental and dove in just as the circle closed, removing his left shoe from his foot and scraping off his skin. But he was in.

He didn't even make a crash; despite his head barrelling into a hard metal surface there was no sound. He realized that was the case because there was no air.

He gasped and gasped again, knowing that it was doing him no good by just laying there--but the crash had subdued him into submission. In one last attempt at staying alive he grasped a handle he found on one side of the metal container he was in. He pulled, and there was no give. He pulled again and slowly, ever so slowly it opened, and air whooshed in.

Then it shut again. Apparently the elf had noticed. Or the spaceship was having technical problems. Relan fervently hoped it was the latter.

"Excuse me!" yelled Relan, using up much of his now-existing air. "I'm dying in here! Open the portal!"

"Who are you?" said a deep, dark voice.

"Relan of Rastavia!" Relan yelled, not having any alias to go by.

"You must be mad!" said the alien. "He died ten years ago!"

"He didn't die, he was imprisoned," said Relan, already feeling light in the head.

"Please give me some air!" and he started to cough.

The portal opened, if only a little. Air whooshed in and Relan felt total contentment. In fact, he was floating... his body was not resting on anything!

"I turned off the gravity so you would be less comfortable," said the alien. "I'm going to have to interrogate you. But not here. So hold on to something."

The spacecraft was taking off? If the accounts Relan heard as a child were true, he would be pasted to a wall for a series of minutes.

He tried to brace himself against the floor but there were no handholds and he kept bouncing off. Then he heard the engines rumble and

Then he fell to the floor. He slowly became heavier and heavier as the spacecraft lifted off the ground and gained speed. Lots and lots of speed.

Relan thought he was going to die for a few minutes, but then he became weightless again. He vomited up the food which remained in his stomach, and instantly a machine appeared from the otherwise featureless wall and sucked up all his expulsions.

Almost all of them, that is.

"I know, I know, nobody's perfect," said the voice. "I've been trying to perfect that thing's code for years, but it never works quite the way I want it to."

"I suppose," said Relan once he had righted himself, "that you did that in order to make me feel more uncomfortable as well?"

"My, how perceptive you are," said the voice. There suddenly appeared a screen on the wall opposite him and on the screen was a woman who looked eerily familiar, but Relan couldn't quite

her... until...

"Diana!" said Relan. "How did you end up here?"

"That's not my name, you know, Relan," said the voice, now soft and feminine. "Or, at least, it's not my name anymore."

"I always thought Diana was a sort of otherworldly name," said Relan. "And now I'm proved right. So are you going to marry me after you release me?"

"I'm still not sure it's really you," said Diana. "So I need ask you a few questions."

"Fine!" Relan said. "Do it quickly!"

"Do it quickly, _please_ ," said Diana. "You do know that I'd love to marry you, but there are a few cultural differences where I come from. For instance, women have actual _power_."

Relan started to laugh, but then he realized that Diana did not take that as funny. So he tried to stifle his laugh but he ended up laughing harder.

"I'm going to take away the air," Diana threatened.

"My apo--apologies, dear Queen," Relan managed. "I am unfamiliar with your customs, that's all."

"Let's _hope_ that's all," said Diana who really was not Diana. "Anyhow, I need to ask you some questions. Firstly, what is your middle name?"

"Miran," Relan replied without hesitation.

"Second, what did you used to call me in secret when only the two of us were together?"

"Missy," Relan said.

"That's enough," Diana said, and the portal opened completely. Relan saw

a great light which blinded him for a moment, and then he found something clinking over his fingers. Then he heard Diana's voice: "I am so close to you, gods damn your religious spirit. I suppose the gods appreciate you more than I do."

"I'm glad you remembered," said Relan.

"Didn't want you being a fish now, do I?" she said. "It was hard enough the first time. It was insulting."

"Why couldn't you wait until marriage?" Relan asked.

"I guess I just don't have the patience," she snarled, pulling back from the almost-kiss. Relan's cuffs snapped open. "It's your lucky day."

"It's _always_ my lucky day," responded Relan.

"Now that I will never understand," sniffed Diana. "By the way, don't you want to know my real name?"

"I suppose," said Relan, knowing it would anger her even further.

"It's Masala," said Diana.

"Masala?" Relan gasped, unable to hold himself back. "That's a tea flavor!"

"I _know_ ," said Diana, obviously irritated.

Relan turned away from her, just in case she saw him laughing any more, because he valued his supply of air.

"Did you know that my parents are tea-traffickers, and they made all of their money selling Masala?"

Relan looked away again to prevent his laughing, but he found he was all done with laughing so he triumphantly turned and looked directly at Diana.

To his surprise, she didn't flinch. She merely looked coldly at him and said, "You may occupy the other chair."

"So where are we going?" said Relan. "Mistress."

Diana arrogantly flipped her hair back.

"That's right," she said, "and don't you ever forget it. No more prince charming for you: more like _pauper_ charming!"

"I always knew you were this shallow," Relan yawned.

"We are going," she said pompously, "to gather tea on foreign worlds."

"Hmmm," said Relan.

"What is it?"

"It was just that I had a different destination: maybe you could drop me off on your way!"

Diana's eyes narrowed. "It depends how far," she said.

"Spoken like a very wise woman," Relan spouted.

"Don't make me throttle you," she said.

"Why are you chasing down spaceships in the first place?"

"Revenge," said Relan. "The elf escaped on a spaceship and who knows where he could be now? But we can isolate him to this solar system if we hurry."

"Don't give me that 'if we hurry' nonsense.

I have the fastest starship in this sector. And at lightspeed, forget it: my ship is faster than all the others."

Relan didn't know how to respond that because he didn't know light-speed mechanics, but he vowed to brush up on the subject in the near future.

"Won't you let me in the front?" he groveled.

Diana's face appeared on the screen again: "No," she said.

"Why not?" The spaceship bounced a bit and Relan got some more bruises. He howled.

"Sorry, my young steed," said Diana, this time somewhat even-handedly.

"I still don't know if you mean me any harm. For all I know you could be angry about our failed almost-marriage and you could be feeling vengeful..."

"Diana, my love!" Relan begged.

"I was in prison for ten years! Even if I can't remember most of them! You don't want to leave me here to die! Especially after you spent so much time accepting me and providing me with air!"

"So I might as well take you the entire way," Diana sneered.

The ship careened and crashed one way and then the other. Relan, like everything else, was slammed into both walls of the hold.

"I'm almost dead," croaked Relan.

"Yeah, right," said Diana, somewhat less certainly.

Something hit him in his face and blood gushed out.

"Fine fine!" said Diana. "Just don't get any blood on the seat!"

She saw that he was unconscious and proceeded to strap him in. "I hope you know you're consigning me to the wall," she said the the unconscious form in the seat.

"I'm not sorry," murmured Relan. "But I won't drip on the seat. Just give me a few tissues."

She gave him an entire pack and told the computer where to go. "Sound right?" she asked Relan.

"Yes," he sniffed, and proceeded to stuff some tissues into his facial cavities.

"Now you can't talk," gloated Diana. "You must be feeling lonely. You know, we have yet to consummate our marriage."

"Slapdash," muttered Relan through his insulation.

"Oh, what? I didn't hear you!" said Diana, extending an ear.

"Stupid girl, I don't know why I fell in love with you in the first place," he said. Of course, that fell on deaf ears.

"What?" she said. "So we're going after this elf creature?"

"Don't you know who he is?" said Relan. "He orchestrated my father's death and made by brother king!"

"You know, he _is_ the firstborn," said Diana.

"So we're going to him? The coordinates you told me? His ship was surprisingly easy to trace."

"That's because he was in a tiny ship called an 'escape pod,' " Relan said without knowing how he knew it.

"They don't fly very fast."

"Approaching coordinates," said Diana, squinting from her post on the wall. "Computer, magnify two hundred percent, please."

"That was fast," remarked Relan. Internally he kept her at a distance: he didn't want to fall in love with someone who might get killed.

Reading his thoughts, Diana said:

"Don't worry, honey, I won't be going on this mission with you."

"What, don't you want to kill the evil elf? I thought you were a good resident of our little kingdom!"

"This is not my true form," said Diana. "I am at my purist when I am a ball of energy in the vacuum of space."

"Come on, now, Diana," said Relan, "I've heard that one before."

"Fine!" she said.

"I will help you kill that elf. But then I must return home."

"Where's that?" teased Relan. "Some distant nebula?"

"I am not a star, contrary to your assumption," Diana said. "I am a species of human which colonized the cosmos long ago."

"Balderdash," Relan said. Did she really think he was going to believe that?

Diana shrugged. "Believe me or not, it's true, and maybe you can even see it for yourself. We both would have to undergo the decontamination process. But let's let future things remain in the future. Let us go and slay this elf and return honor to your kingdom. And it will be yours, you know that? You are the next in line."

"Thank the gods my bastard brother has no children."

"Yet," reminded Diana.

"He's homosexual."

"Even people who do not want children will rush to implant themselves within a chosen wife for the sake of his seed."

"His DNA," Relan said.

"You are probably the only person in your kingdom who knows what that means."

"You know. And everyone else can figure it out."

"Decelerating from light-speed," said Diana.

"Well, maybe in a few hundred generations."

"You'd be surprised how quickly a kingdom can modernize itself," said Relan. "One of my teachers said that--"

"--yes, on Relan 2," said Diana. "Everyone knows that."

"And the fact that I have the same name as the planet..." Relan said, holding onto his armrests for dear life, even though he trusted the restraints to do their job.

"Approaching planet," Diana said. "He's parked right behind that moon, see?"

"There are many moons," Relan observed.

"See, that one," she said, pointing at the display all around them and making one of the moons glow green.

"Is he on the moon itself?"

"Not sure," said Diana. "We'll have to go behind the moon and check."

"Ambush?" Relan suggested.

"We'll see. Entering the moon's atmosphere, so you should hold onto your armrests again."

"You really do see everything, don't you?" said Relan admiringly.

"I'm no deity," Diana snorted. "Okay, coming around, the clouds should mask our approach.... there! He's right over there. With three... no, four warships of unknown origin. He must have gotten himself some allies. Smart move." The ship shook a few times. "Shields down to thirty percent," Diana. "Beginning evasive maneuvers. Should we surrender, you think?"

"Never," spat Relan, his spit forming into a globe of organic molecules mixed with water and floating away from him. "Why'd you turn off the gravity?"

"We're landing," said Diana instead of answering the question. "Hold on."

The landing took about twenty seconds from space to ground. "Why's the cockpit so hot?" Relan complained.

"This spacecraft was only designed for one person," answered Diana. "Perhaps jettisoning you would be a good idea, yes? Think about that.

And now look around: isn't it nice here?"

"You turned off the viewers."

"Turning them back on. You like it?" she demanded.

The entire moonscape in all four directions was one dark-green jungle. "I like the greenery," he said, "but I am afraid of the potential wildlife."

"Come off it," she said. "Our medical computer can handle anything."

"Did they detect us?"

"Let's hope not," she said. "I tried to mask our signatures as much as possible. They think we're a sightseeing couple."

"Are there any other people sharing the moon with us?"

"Why, you scared?" she said, and leaned over to kiss him on the forehead.

Relan shied away. "We're not married, remember? That's not allowed!"

"It's allowed for _me_ ," she pouted. "For _us_. And remember we were formally married?"

"We were _three_ ," said Relan. "Oh, no..."

They had partially opened the portal to the outside and suddenly a mysterious purple tentacle manifested itself, moving slowly and cautiously

toward the portal. It seemed to stop to assess the situation, and Relan and Diana held their breaths. Then it suddenly leapt forward like a snake and wrapped itself around Diana's ankle.

Diana screamed, but then shot it with her pistol. The tentacle split into one isolated dead part and a black smoking live part. "Wasn't that a jiffy?" she said. "I've been here before, the scream was just pure drama. Wasn't it, my love?"

"I do grow them back," said the tentacle, which was rapidly growing back. Relan sputtered a bit because he thought Diana was professing her love for _him_...

"Don't eat me," said Diana. "No eating. No!" she yelled and fired a couple of shots at the thing's head. Brains spilled out and one tentacle cried, "Alas, I am slain..."

"Come on, quick!" said Diana, pulling a duffel bag behind her. "This ship is toast, it'll never fly again. We'll have to find another means of getting off the planet."

"Or we could fall in love and raise children here!" Relan supplied.

He took a step and unexpectedly flew through the air. "Whew! This is a trip!"

"My apologies, I didn't pack two pairs of heavy boots. Here," she said, and threw them to him. "I'll just have to make do without."

"So we're stranded here," said Relan. "I could use some water. Do you have any?"

"A few miles up there, on the ridge, see?" she said, pointing to some snow-capped mountains in the distance. "That's water. Ice is water's solid form."

"Yes, mistress," spat Relan. "I wish I could crush that elf into so many little pieces... I'd do it with my bare hands if possible!"

"We both have the same goal, my love," said Diana. "Now march!"

They marched, or rather Relan marched and Diana took little powerful steps, toward the mountains. "I have a stockade there," Diana explained, "for situations such as this."

A loud sound boomed from behind them. "Oh, dear," said Diana.

"Yes?" supplied Relan.

"I didn't mean _you_ , honey. I meant that they're here. They're going to scour the entire moon for us."

"Then we'll just have to steal their ship."

"Of course, honey," said Diana. "But how?"

"That's what we will figure out once we get there," said Relan. "We will let them think they've caught us"

. They won't realize I'm aboard as well. You'll be holding me hostage. And when the time is right, I will strike.

"I will ask the ship to make us some fake manacles," said Diana. "You actually sound a little smart now, you know that?"

Relan ignored the jibe and said, "My only objective is to kill the elf who wished to enslave and kill me, "

"And his helpers," added Diana.

"And his helpers," confirmed Relan. "Let us get away from this useless spacecraft. It will take approximately a day to hike to the ice mountain. We have no water and that is our best chance of survival. Good luck to us both."

Relan gave her one of his shoes. "That way we can both travel at the same pace," he said.

"Behaving more like a king every day, thank you, leige," said Diana. "Wait, they're coming..." and she said something to the computer. A couple of ships buzzed over them at low altitude. "They're definitely looking for us, alright," she said.

"Why don't we just engage them now?" said Relan. "We'll be tired when we reach the mountain."

"Fine, I guess you're a little smarter than a doorbell," Diana muttered. "That's where I have weapons stored. Weapons that are able to destroy entire starships."

More of the ships came buzzing, this time the other way. "I assume you are not letting them see us," said Relan.

"There is a lot about the world you must learn, and learn quickly," said Diana, hiking up her backpack and floating off. Relan floated behind her and

said, "You knew they were going to down our ship."

Diana smiled, or at least he could imagine her smiling. "So what if I did? I needed to teach you a lesson, didn't I? And since our objectives coincide..."

Relan dodged a tree and then a snake. He grabbed hold of a tree trunk to steady himself. "I thought you had other things to do."

"Weddings can wait," she said.

"No, you should have gone to the wedding!" Relan said, feeling like some piece of mold that fell off the side of an old wooden house.

"You're more important," Diana said, soaring above some trees and stopping her own movement in a distant canopy. "Don't try it," said Diana. "You have no experience."

"I have enough experience, m'lady," Relan said, doffing his cap.

"Shut your hole," she said as Relan went flying above her. He fortuitously landed on a soft bed of moss.

"Wow!" said Relan. "I must try that again!"

"Don't you want to know the reason I saved you instead of feeding you to the creatures of the void?" Diana spouted.

"What?" yelled Relan. He prepared to jump to her position. Then he jumped, and instead of reaching Diana's canopy he smacked his body on her tree trunk. He clung to the trunk for dear life

and howled with exhilaration. "I'm alive!" he said, his face now full of blood.

"Indeed you are, but now I have to provide first aid," she said, shaking her head in disappointment. "I had hoped on using this when we face the gatekeeper, but what happens happens, I suppose." She looked down at him: "Climb to my position," she instructed, and waited for him to comply.

Relan gave another howl of freedom and started to climb. He stopped almost as soon as he started. "M'lady, me arm's broken."

"How can you tell?" Diana demanded. "Is there any bone sticking out?"

"Ah... I don't know. Let me check." He checked. "Uh, yes, m'lady," he said, stuttering a bit.

"I see something. Something white."

"No, don't move!" snapped Diana. At first Relan thought it was because she was angry at him, but after that he realized it was something much worse.

"Now slowly, slowly remove your hand from the trunk," Diana instructed. "There you go. No, too fast! There you go now, slowly."

Relan had his arm entirely removed from the tree and was sweating profusely. "I can't hold on with one hand much longer," he called. "Oh, no," he said, causing Diana to give a start. "My arm... it's sticky."

"The tree just wants to make you a part of it," she said. "It's perfectly normal. Now, please climb down the tree, making sure to keep your injured, sticky arm safe from all surfaces as you descend."

"It's burning me!" said Relan. "And my right arm is sinking into the bark."

"Kick it, hard!" instructed Diana. "Just pull yourself away from that tree!"

There was a ripping sound, like an age-old piece of velcro was being pulled from a piece of leather, but much louder.

Relan fell from the tree and landed on top of a fallen trunk. Then he noticed the branch, three inches thick, sticking through his abdomen. He howled, more in frustration than real pain, as he had immediately started going into shock.

"I'm coming down!" Diana said. "Hold on!"

Relan in his delirium held onto the branch that was protruding from his stomach. "Is the ride over?" he croaked. "Who won?

My arm hurts!"

"Yes, that's the only thing you should be feeling now, because if it wasn't I'd conclude you were not human and I would have to kill you on the spot."

"Spots?" said Relan, suddenly coherent again. "I see red spots!"

Diana stuck a needle in Relan's arm and Relan drifted into unconsciousness.

"Now release him," she told the tree.

The tree waved its branches a bit, but aside from that it did nothing.

"Do it!" she screamed.

"You promise you'll give me some other humans to eat?" said the tree.

"Yes, yes, of course! Elves, if you like them."

"How many?" said the tree. The trunk was now leaking fluid.

"Stop salivating, they're not _here_ yet," said Diana.

"When will they be here?" said the voice. "I haven't much time."

"Well you'll have to _make_ time, you scoundrel. And I might just stop bringing you food if you act like this. What were you thinking, attacking _my_ human?"

"I was hungry!" said the voice helplessly.

"Look, now you've stopped his heart! You must be really hungry if you want to pick a fight with _me_!"

"I'm on the edge of death," moaned the tree.

Diana jumped down to Relan's body and murmured a spell. Blue light seemed to go from her hands into his chest. After a few seconds Relan heaved, and the tentacles that were encircling his body went back inside its host tree.

There was now only a soft sigh as the creature drifted back to sleep.

"What happened?" said Relan once he had gained consciousness.

"I made the monster go away," Diana said. "Were you hurt?"

"I could have dealt with it by myself," said Relan. "I have been trained in many martial arts."

"Not in low-gravity," she reminded him.

"Whatever," said Relan. "Let's go get those weapons."

The further they marched the colder it got. "I do not understand this," said Relan. "Why is it freezing right now? If I lied down to take a nap here I'd be dead. This place is only good for storing meat and harvesting ice."

"You will never learn," said Diana. "And I'm glad you didn't decide to take a nap. Anyway, we're almost there. Watch out for that ice over there, it's slick."

"Do you have every piece of ice over here memorized?" said Relan.

"I'm just observing," snapped Diana. "Stop flirting with me. You shouldn't fancy me, as the wedding I'm late for is my own. That is my reason for haste. Now just another couple hours."

They finally reached the summit. "No one here," said Diana. "That's why I used this place."

She went over to one patch of ice and started kicking at it. After a few kicks the ice crashed inward. She wiped her brow and said, "See? There's a doorway."

The doorway was red. Perhaps to warn out intruders or perhaps to mark the spot in case Diana forgot where it was. Relan turned to Diana and said, "How do I know I can trust you?"

"I saved your life, didn't I?" Diana spat. "What, you take me for a turncoat?"

"You are not even wearing a coat!" said Relan. "Tell me why you want to help me!" He slipped on a patch of ice and Diana caught him easily.

"I want to help you kill that horrible elf as well as a bunch of other ones!" said Diana. "Isn't that enough?"

"You miraculously appeared in a spaceship to 'help' me find the elf once the elf had left. Don't you think that a bit fortuitous?"

Diana stopped midway into opening the door. "What do you care?" she said. "I'm helping you, aren't I?"

"You smell like something odd," said Relan. "Something I can't place. No, wait... you smell of gunpowder! My father had been researching such a substance that he hoped would cause explosions in enemy territory, or something of the sort. He never did finish the project, because all the gunpowder was stolen from him."

"All my fault, of course," said Diana sarcastically.

"I know you were only there for a short time. They said you ended up marrying some distant lord in some distant castle across the sea. But that's not really what happened."

Diana was silent, so Relan continued: "Somehow you were at the right place at the right time."

"I told you, the enemy of the enemy is my friend," said Diana.

"That's not all, though," said Relan. "You are late for your _own_ wedding...this makes me think that you don't want the chap. A little late to change people, isn't it?"

"It was my only choice," said Diana, tears streaking down her face. "You were the only person I have ever loved."

"And now you want to wipe out the elves. Well, so do I, my lady, but isn't genocide a bit much? Perhaps a couple years in a dungeon will rehabilitate them. So let's not kill _all_ of them. Just yet. But I know why you're in such a hurry: to kill your husband before your wedding date. It's your last chance, because if you kill him after you marry him they'll blame you immediately. But if you take off in your ship, which of course is _not broken_ ,

then I'll be the one to blame. Or, if you can disguise me, it'll be someone unknown to them. Or _known_ to them. I see now: you want to frame my brother! It's ingenious! But

Someone will somehow get killed who doesn't deserve it."

"There are many rotten people in your brother's kingdom,

one of them can take the fall!"

"You don't know which are the worst."

"Yes I do, you silly man. I know who helped him get power, and those are people who are on his council now and who also helped kill the king."

"But it is still inexact: the probability is you will choose a person deserving of punishment, but there is a small chance--say, one in ten--that you will be killing an innocent man."

Diana said, "Oh gods help me," and opened the red door. "Come inside, my love, you need to see this

. It is more powerful than anything you could imagine." She held the door for him: "Aren't you coming?"

Relan reluctantly stepped through the door. He descended a few stairs and then looked up at Diana: "What, aren't _you_ coming?"

Diana smiled and then slammed the door.

It was instantly pitch dark. Not even a photon of sunlight escaped from the doorway to the outside. Relan cursed. How was it that he always was the victim of a trap? But then presently the door opened. "Just kidding!" crowed Diana. "How could I allow my beloved to endure such torment?"

"Well, you did, for a few seconds, my dear," said Relan. "I will have a less despairing mind the next time you put me in such a situation."

"No, don't," said Diana. "I won't do it again, I promise. I also suffered in the few seconds that I knew you were suffering."

"Now you're starting to sound like my mother, which is a good thing since I adore her terribly," said Relan.

"Ooh, I'm complimented!" said Diana. "Now step aside, I need to come down too."

Relan stepped to the side of the staircase as Diana came down.

"Now!" she said. "Ah, here are the lights, I always forget where they are." She flicked a few switches and some ceiling lamps turned on. "There we go."

The room was full of furniture. "My apologies," said Diana. "I don't usually clean this place very often. If you'll look around, you'll find a bathroom (only one) and two bedrooms. One for you and one for me!"

Relan tried not to sneeze but failed. He produced four in a row instead.

"Bless you!" Diana said enthusiastically, keeping up with her "I'm in love with you" spectacle.

"Bless me four times," said Relan. "There are seven gods, so four times seven equals twenty-eight. That's how many times I will be blessed." He went off to use the bathroom. As he closed the door, he noticed that the air was a bit misty, as if someone had been to the bathroom recently and had taken a shower. He opened the door to warn Diana when he heard an anguished scream. There was some sort of ape-like creature who had hurled him or herself at his love Diana, so he forgot about his bladder and ran to join the melee.

There were also two other ape-like creatures who ran to cross his path. He punched it in the head and it went down, while the other one fled up the stairs to the outside. The one that was left was straddling Diana and pawing at her arms, which were protecting her face. Fortunately it didn't notice Relan, who came up behind him with a hammer and gouged its brains out.

"Ow," said Diana, her arms bleeding profusely.

"You're welcome, m'lady," said Relan politely, doffing his cap. "Here, use this to staunch the bleeding. Where are your medical supplies?"

"In the bathroom cabinet. Please bring them to me."

Relan found them and carried them to Diana, who looked through the package and found a dark liquid, which she wiped all over her arms.

"Don't bring me any leeches," she warned him as he approached. "I've had enough on your measly little planet."

"I don't think insulting good friends will be good for your choler," said Relan.

"I don't think your wife would like the idea of you and me here, all alone," said Diana.

Suddenly, there was a crash. Everything seemed to go sideways as the shock wave reached them.

"They've located us," breathed Diana. "They're blowing the moon to pieces. You'd better sit down. We're going to take the entire thing this time."

"Entire _what_?" said Relan, thoroughly confused.

"No time to explain," said Diana, strapping herself in. "I'm starting the engines in five seconds, so you'd better sit down and pull the strap down over you--otherwise you'll just become my next meal."

Relan wasn't sure what she meant by that, but he buckled himself in anyway.

The ship began to rise. Not much, though: it seemed to be straining against something: "Oh, dear," Diana cursed, "I sure hope this thing is strong enough to bring its added capacity up into space as well!"

"What do you mean?" said Relan.

"The dirt and grass that were growing on its hull!" she responded. "Its disguise!"

"I genuinely thought that is really was a hole."

"It was... oh, no," she moaned.

There were two destroyers that were directly in their path of ascent. "Impact in ten seconds," the computer warned.

"Go directly to light speed," she ordered it.

"Not recommended," said the computer. "The ship risks being torn apart by gravitational forces."

"I know my physics, ship, and I also installed more armor on you! Can't you remember? So go to light speed, now!"

This time the ship obeyed: "Entering light speed," it said just as Relan had finished buckling his belt.

The viewport showed the two large ships gaining on them, or at least them gaining on the ships. They passed through a little opening between the ships and into open space.

"Somehow, I thought light speed was faster than this," said Relan.

"Curse you, my love," said Diana, fiddling with the controls.

"The truth is that if we had escaped any faster, we _would_ break up. We just needed to get away from those destroyers. And since they need to turn around in order to follow us, we have about thirty seconds to decide which way to go before they will be very, very close to us."

"Now we're running from them," said Relan, gazing around at all the havoc of the main cabin. Empty food cans, Empty boxes, some unopened cans of fish on the floor, some bread in vacuum cases.

"Don't worry, this is the fastest spaceship in the quadrant," said Diana. "Increasing to Warp Two."

Relan ignored this jibe and said, "But when will I ever get home? When will I become king to my people?"

"Perhaps never," Diana shrugged.

"We need to get even with the elf, and his elf friends!" raged Relan.

"Don't make me put any medicine in you," she said. "You wouldn't like it."

"Isn't that what you did before, when I unflowered you, and then they carted me away!"

"But you were to be a spy!" cried Diana. "And I was not supposed to be physical with anyone! So it didn't matter! I was preparing you for the mission! I had no part in the elves' devious plan!"

"Why oh why, Lord, did you cause him to remember at this point, _this_ time?" and she collapsed to the floor. "You take the controls," she sobbed, head in hands. "I'm too washed up right now to do anything."

"What you'd _better_ do is pilot us back to our own planet!" raged Relan.

Diana had finished sobbing.

"But I thought you wanted to battle the elves?" Diana said, quite inconspicuously, as if nothing had happened.

"We have to make more spaceships!" declared Relan. "Defeat them in battle!"

"Do you really think we have the workers needed to start on such a task?" yelled Diana.

"We can make it magically!"

"That's not how it works!" Diana retorted.

"If we want to have even a small chance of defeating them, we will have to board their ship and masquerade as an Elven vessel to gain entry to one of the destroyers."

"That sounds like a good idea,"

said Relan. "When do we start?"

"Careful," said Diana. "It's not a good idea to have revenge be your primary motivation.

If you win, you deflate in the end. If you lose, you're either dead or filled with misery for the rest of your life. Do you still want to do this?

"I will do it for the sake of justice, then, m'lady," he said. "Is that not a noble cause?"

"Better than revenge," she said, "but still perilous. Justice also is something that will never end. But at least it will be lost to the generations, while revenge is something which many people remember."

"Then you tell me, my lady!" said Relan, flexing his muscles impatiently.

"What are we to do?"

"Revenge, of course," she said, "and justice. But most important, we will do this as a deterrence. What has happened to us, our kingdom and to you in particular must be rectified. And this is the first step."

Relan grunted, which was as good as he came to agreement. "I dare not cheat on my wife, as well," he said, more to himself than to Diana.

"Of course not," said Diana. "Neither of us want _that_. Come now, I have a plan. We need to secure all of our provisions first."

Over the next few hours they both worked hard putting all the foodstuffs into the cabinets they were supposed to be in. At one point Relan remarked, "Shouldn't this mess not have existed in the first place?"

"I have bouts of drunkenness," said Diana. "It happens."

"More like you've never had a guest before," Relan observed, staring into a glass salt-shaker whose contents were glued to the bottom. "What's the use of a salt shaker if you can't shake out what's in it?"

"You are quite the elegant poet, my dear, but we need to be working as quickly as possible, not sitting around making crude jokes," said Diana.

"We've been cleaning for hours, m'lady. You surely know that."

"Fine, we're done," said Diana. "I'm a bit of a neat-freak, what can I do?"

"A bit of a _what_?"

"Never mind," said Diana. "That's for another space and time. Let's return to the cockpit and start on our journey back..."

They did just that: they started a slow u-turn. A few minutes went by before they finally were going in the opposite direction, back to the Elven destroyers.

"Should be a few moments now," Diana said as the stars whizzed past them.

"Are we really going that fast?" wondered Relan.

"Six times light-speed," Diana informed him. One of the unpacked food containers in the back rattled ominously.

"I thought that was impossible."

"Your tutors were behind the times," answered Diana.

"Claptrap," said Relan. "All claptrap."

"I know some people who talk like you do, on another planet," Diana said.

"You know, you really must be very old," said Relan. "To have had so many experiences, as you have."

Diana ignored the remark: "Coming out of light speed," she confirmed. "Ready cloak."

"I don't want to take off my clothes, you humbag!" roared Relan.

"Sorry to inform you that I am in charge," said Diana, "and no yelling."

Relan grumbled something that Diana couldn't hear.

"What was that?" Diana shouted. "Never mind: coming out of light speed!" The stars returned to normal. "They can't detect us because we have our cloak. But that won't last for long; they will soon triangulate our position."

"How long?"

She shrugged. "A few minutes tops. So now we want to dock at one of the docking ports."

"What happened to pretending to be one of their ships?"

"That's once we dock," she explained placidly.

Diana steered the ship into one of their docking ports. "Either or," she said. "The two destroyers appeared to be identical, so I chose one at random."

"They do look identical," said Relan. "I find no fault in your judgement."

They docked with a soft clank and turned off the engines. "Okay," Diana said. "Here we go: give me your arm."

Relan handed over his arm. "I suppose you have some concoction to make us look like elves?"

"Correct," said Diana. "You are very perceptive."

"Ah, I wouldn't call that perceptive, my lady," Relan said, flinching at the needle. He looked over to his arm, and saw that Diana was attaching the other end of the tube to her own arm. "What witchcraft is this, lady?" Relan inquired.

"It's already in my system," Diana explained, "so just a little blood has to go from me to you in order for you to contract the virus."

"It's a _virus_?" Relan said, and frowned. "That does not sound very friendly, my lady."

"Well, _I'm_ still alive, aren't I?"

"Mayhaps you are a zombie," said Relan.

"Okay, you look like an elf now," said Diana. "Do I?"

"Yes, m'lady, and a most beautiful one at that," Relan said mockingly. "Considering the only changes to our bodies are pointed ears instead of rounded ones..."

"There are internal changes as well," said Diana. "Here they come."

Relan stiffened as he heard the knock on the door. "Open up!" came a light Elvish voice. "Inspection! And you're late for duty!"

"What do we do, my lady?" Relan whispered.

"Exactly what they tell us to do," Diana said.

And with that, she pressed a button and the door opened.

Three suspicious-looking elves piled into the ship. "This ship is so cramped," complained the lead elf.

"It is indeed, my lord," said Diana, getting up from her chair.

"I don't know why the interior is so different from the other freighters," said the elf. His two underlings stood in studied poses.

"This is actually a mission that's top secret," said Diana, "So I hope you don't share it apart from in this circle."

"Really? What's so secret? What are you carrying in the back?"

"Oh, just foodstuffs," said Diana lazily, winking at Relan.

"We have been a people-mover. We were moving some of our allies to discreet locations."

The lead elf looked at the other two elves and shrugged. "Seems legitimate," he said.

"Carry on." And they left.

Diana smiled. "That was easy," she said. "Come on, let's go on a tour of the ship to see if we can enable auto destruct."

"How about the other ship?" Relan inquired. "Must we not destroy them as well?"

"This ship's self-destruct should destroy both ships," she said. "But you're on the ball, I like that."

Relan sniffed.

"Let's go," she said, leading him by the arm.

"I am tremendously affronted!" Relan sputtered. "A _woman_ , leading _me_? The gods spit on this arrangement!"

"There's only one god," said Diana. "And he doesn't spit. Darn it, I forgot to put you in handcuffs."

"Just deposit me in the dungeon, if you will," said Relan. "I will bide my time there while you figure out how to destroy both ships."

"Not a good idea," Diana said and gritted her teeth as they passed a detail of twelve Elf soldiers.

"You're my prisoner and if I was walking alone, I would have less credibility. Because I am an unknown spy, at least having you as a prisoner makes me more legitimate. I got the idea from some movie I watched at some point."

"Some _what_?"

"Never mind, just keep your head down," Diana instructed. "There, that's good."

A couple of Elvish ladies came up behind them, chatting amiably. "Is he your husband?" one of them inquired.

"Nay, good lady," said Diana, shaking her head. "He is but a prisoner."

"Where are his restraints?" asked the other.

"I'd like to have him as _my_ prisoner," said the lady slyly. Diana wisely didn't respond; There were enough fights over males in the world for her to be unhappy with.

The group of Elf-ladies moved on, and Diana and Relan found themselves alone at the end of the hall. Suddenly there was a sound: "Red Alert! Red Alert! All personnel return to stations. We are engaging a Dwarf Battle Cruiser." And with that, the entire ship shook.

Diana and Relan grabbed the metal bars that were placed on the side of the corridors at strategic intervals.

"Wow, that makes me feel a little bit afraid!" said Relan.

Diana snorted. "We have to get to the bridge. We will need to use this elevator right here," she said, pointing to the elevator facing them at the end of the hall. "Thankfully, though, everyone right now will be using the ladders, so I don't think we'll be having any company."

The elevator opened even before they told it to. "Enter, please," said a voice.

"I sure hope they can't tell we're human!" declared Relan. "Because that voice sounds awfully intelligent!"

"I am indeed intelligent," answered the voice once they had stepped in. "Now where would you like to go?"

"The bridge, please," answered Diana tersely.

"No need to be nervous about it," answered the voice coolly. "I'll take you to the bridge presently."

"Now that it's been said, I am very nervous as to your capabilities," Diana stated. "Can't you tell anything by our life-form signatures?"

"I have in reality been infected by a Dwarf virus," said the voice calmly.

"Is that why you're so friendly?" panted Relan.

"Indeed, human," said the voice. "If the dwarves hadn't infected me I would have declared red alert on account of alien intruders."

"So you're not just the elevator, you're the entire ship!" said Relan.

"Yes," said the voice dryly. "Now shall I take you to the place where you can most easily sabotage the ship?"

"Yes, please!" said Relan.

"As long as you can guarantee us a clean escape route," said Diana.

"I can let the dwarves know you need rescuing," informed the voice. The elevator started moving. Up, then sideways, and then down.

"Where are you taking us?" said Relan.

"To Engineering," said the voice.

"What is your name?" said Relan.

"Names are irrelevant. I will instruct you how to initiate a manual override in order to self-destruct the ship."

"How old are you?" said Relan.

"Almost there," said the voice. "If anyone asks, say you're from the emergency containement force."

"Alright," said Diana. "Ready to go."

The doors opened. Relan and Diana were immediately flooded with acrid smoke. There were elves running in every which direction, shouting things and carrying things. Diana stepped out confidently with Relan by her side. "Now what?" she said in a low voice.

"Both of you go to the central console," instructed the voice. "The prince will shout at the top of his lungs for a Deuterium Container. As soon as he gets one from a low-level officer, you, the Earther, will

put it in the plasma manifold, and the whole ship will explode.

"Wait, that's not auto destruct," said Diana.

"I changed my mind," said the voice. "At the behest of the dwarves. This battle is far to costly for them to extend it the five minutes required of the auto destruct."

"We trust you will get us out of this ship and onto yours," Relan said.

"Of course," said the voice. "It's an experimental device called the Entanglement Particle Extractor."

"It doesn't sound very friendly to me," said Diana. "To _us_."

They could almost hear the voice shrug. "Eh," it said. "Sorry, but that's our last offer. Don't worry, it usually works."

"Fine," said Diana. "Servant!" she screamed. "Please give me a Deuterium Container!" A low-level officer sped to some far-off room and then rushed back to give it to Diana. "Thank you," Diana said. "Carry on, officer."

The officer saluted and carried on.

"Now where's the plasma manifold?" wondered Diana.

"Straight ahead, at the other side of the room," said the voice. "Quickly now, walk quickly, no running...there! Now toss it in!"

"You're ready to pick us up?" Diana said.

"Of course! Now do it!"

Diana stuck her hand, which was holding the Deuterium Container, into the plasma manifold. She marveled that there were no safeguards against this kind of thing.

An elf not ten feet away saw them and gave cry, but it was too late.

And then time stopped.

Actually, time just slowed down, a lot. Diana could see the fire beginning in the plasma manifold and slowly expanding through the room in all directions. She could also see the wall behind the manifold collapsing inward, revealing the void of space beyond.

Diana and Relan watched as

multiple heavy objects from the Engineering bay were lifted and thrown into space. The fire had almost reached their bodies when they were suddenly somewhere else.
Chapter 2

The dwarf bridge was

Big. So big, in fact, that Relan could see the slope of the thing: he couldn't see beyond a few hundred feet. Why was this? Relan thought it might have something to do with gravity, but he wasn't sure. He had definitely learned the lesson in his schooling, but sometimes memories had the tendency to slip away; especially those memories that

never ended a mind in the first place on account of sleepiness.

After they arrived, the whole room erupted in chaos. Men fled their stations to take up positions at one of the walls and pointed their laser pistols at him and Diana.

"We're legitimate, please don't kill us, my lords!" shouted Relan. Then the entire room was quiet; Relan didn't know his voice had such a profound impact

on people. Perhaps, though, these dwarves had never heard a strong human voice. Relan didn't want to self-adulate too much, so he stopped thinking about it. Instead, he said, "My men! Happy am I to see you! Please, computer, validate that we are indeed legitimate."

"It is true," commented the computer, this time in a deep throaty voice. "I was part of the virus which infiltrated the elves' ship."

"Why should we be listening to a voice that doesn't have any body?" raged one long-bearded dwarf who was sitting on a throne of polished metal.

"Sire," started another dwarf who was standing next to him.

"Stop calling me that stupid nickname!" bellowed the sitting elf. "I am the king, you must do what I say!"

"Yes, your grace," said the attending elf.

"That's much better. Now what do you have to say for yourself?"

"These visitors are our allies, liege," explained the elf. "They are the ones who destroyed the elven ship. And caused the other ship to flee by disabling it."

"These?" raged the king. "These strumpets!"

" _Excuse_ me," said Diana, before Relan slapped her.

"I, your grace, am a male, at least, so I wouldn't qualify as a strumpet, at least by any normal measure," declared Relan.

"Yet you look like one," said the king. "All that aside, I would like to welcome both of you to my humble ship. I had the Raellians build me a fine one. I don't know if you know the Raellians? Well, they're some of the finest shipbuilders in the galaxy. No offense to the other shipmakers in our own Humbart's Spoon Galaxy.

"So!" continued the king. "You are travelling with a woman! I welcome you and your wife into my home! Even if I can't stand the technology of it, it's too complicated for the likes of me. Look at me! Do you see a space pilot, or do you see a fearsome warrior!" And at that, all of the warriors in the room shouted.

"What are they saying?" whispered Diana to Relan, because she didn't think she had permission to speak in front of men.

"My glorious wife would like to know, your grace," said Relan loudly after the hollers had subsided,

"what your warriors were just chanting."

"Ah!" said the king. "Indeed! They were just chanting a very holy phrase, about the hearth and the household and the involvement of womankind in the conceiving and rearing of strong young children!"

"Yes, I have definitely heard these words before," muttered Diana to Relan when no one was looking.

"My king!" Relan said loudly, throwing open his hands in an expression of celebration,

"Let us rejoice in this homecoming! Where is the mutton and the ale?"

The king's voice became mournful. "Those things are not allowed on the bridge," he rumbled threateningly, as if he could change his underlings' opinion with a mere growl.

"Unfortunately, that is the law. But at least there are no women lawmakers!" he shouted, and all the dwarves cheered.

"I have a proposition for you, sire," said Relan. "I need an army. Or rather, my wife and I need an army. To recapture a kingdom once taken from me."

"Really?" the dwarf king said, stroking his beard. "I could supply you with perhaps a hundred warriors. You say this is against an evil kingdom?"

"Stolen from me by my brother, who collaborated with an elf," said Relan shortly.

"Elves!" said the king with decided distaste and a gleam in his eye: "They are foul creatures. One considers that statement true even as they are the descendants of gods, supposedly. Immortal and all that. One wishes some of them would die at some point!"

"Die they must," said Relan. "But aren't there any innocent ones? Do they all prey on starships and civilizations or is there a small fraction of them that is clean of crime?"

"Some of them may be clean," admitted the king. "Come up to my throne! It is hard for me to hear you."

Relan and Diana crept forward on the ornate Dwarvish rug that covered most of the deck's surface.

"There you go," said the king. "Now: all of the elves on that ship we just destroyed are complicit, even if some of them are slaves. Elvish slaves, you see, have the right to choose where they will work."

"Surprising, my liege," said Relan. "Even fantastically so."

"You think I'm lying," said the king, "But let's take on some repast. Please, follow me." And he lifted himself heavily from his throne and waddled down toward the elevators. "Please, come," he said, gesturing with his hand. Relan looked at Diana. She looked back at him and shrugged. They both started walking after the Dwarvish king.

They passed countless armored warriors, both sitting at consoles and standing at attention. Most of them had benevolent expressions but some didn't disguise their disgust for the non-Dwarves.

One of them even indicated with his hands that he would like to crush them in the most efficient means possible. Relan shuddered as he passed that dwarf, but Diana maintained her perfect composure. Relan told the dwarf with his eyes that even a woman was not afraid of him and the dwarves eyes flashed with a killer's fire in response. Relan was glad that that dwarf was not one of the king's personal guards.

They reached the elevator and waited. Presently an elevator came, but it was big enough only to house half of the king's party. So the king and half of the soldiers piled in and departed. Soon enough, a second elevator came

moments later and the remaining five or six armored guards and Relan and Diana entered. Again, there was barely enough room, and the Dwarves apparently thought it honorable not to wear deodorant, or perhaps it was just this party that made themselves extra fragrant for the purpose of intimidating the two human visitors. They did have ample time to prepare as the humans destroyed the Elven ship for them.

Finally the elevator stopped and they were ushered, together with the king, into a dimly lit room which smelled of a dozen types of incense and a dozen types of meat, mutton and wine. "Welcome, visitors, honored Humans, destroyers of the Elven ship."

"Actually, it was with the help of the Elven ship itself, and your underlings' computer virus," said Relan. Diana, of course, continued to not make a sound.

"A virus? Where? Is it a concoction of the heathen Elves? I know they'd love to assassinate me! Red Alert! All soldiers to battle stations!"

No one in the room did anything. Apparently this was normal.

"Enough," the king sighed. "They never listen to me. I am a mere figurehead, and I should recognize that.

Need to make a lot of detours

But who cares! Sit down, the two of you, and taste of my table."

"I notice there are no salads, sir king," said Diana. Relan promptly slapped her, again.

"Did I say you could talk?" he roared at Diana. All the warriors in the room laughed heartily and sat down with them to eat.

"We have a custom," said the Dwarvish King as he munched on a piece of mutton, "to

thank all the womenfolk in our household before we get to eat. Of course, I am exempt from this rule," he said, and promptly gave out another deep laugh, which his soldiers promptly copied.

"So all the womenfolk, show your faces!" the king roared.

"No, no, no!" a bunch of high-pitched screams were heard from the direction of the kitchens, which was where all the delicious aromas were coming from.

"What? I can't hear you, because you aren't allowed to talk!" shouted the king.

"We hate showing ourselves! Men are ugly and brutal!" said all of the women in the kitchen in chorus.

"Why are we?" suddenly echoed all the male voices in the hall.

"Unkempt beards!" said the women. "No hygiene! You never take showers!"

"You never want to sleep with us!" said the men.

"You're really stupid, we've already said why!" said the women.

Then, as one, all the male, armored warriors sat down to eat. "Bring the wine!" they all said in unison. Then the room turned to chatter as private conversations sprung up.

"Impressive, my liege," said Relan.

"Don't call me that, I'm not your liege," said the king. "But thank you for the compliment nonetheless.

A different one of my men is chosen to compose this song each month. So we all get some novelty." He started to drink a tankard of wine.

"Perhaps you would prefer if the lady joins the others in the kitchen?"

"Ah," said the king, "which one? Yours? Of course, she may go." And at that, Diana stomped off to leave the king and Relan in private conversation at the table.

"So tell me about your kingdom, friend," said the king, stuffing his face with lamb chops. He belched, and the aroma of it wafted around the room, causing a few Dwarves to throw up. Gleeful cries of "Vomitorium" could be heard all around the room.

"See that?" roared the king. "The power of my breath!"

"Indeed, my liege," said Relan carefully. He doubted he was getting anywhere at this point.

But the king was onto him.

"Seriously, friend," said the king, suddenly sober. "Please do tell me about your own self."

Relan was amazed at the transformation: "You're good," he said admirably.

"Well I have to be, I have to act stupid so they don't know I'm smart," said the king with distaste.

"I trust you will keep this secret."

"Of course," Relan said, shrugging it off. "Fine, m'lord, I will tell you about my humble kingdom. I grew up with the rest of the village people, planting and then sowing wheat, barley, and the like.

When I was eight I started my schooling two hours a day, which on top of the farming work was incredibly exhausting.

Then my schoolwork got more and more prevalent and I was away from my friends at the farm. Then, one day, they said that my father had remembered me and officially appointed me crown prince.

"It was an easy choice, because I was the firstborn of his first wife. But

my brother was jealous, so he, along with the evil Elf, poisoned my father, robbing him of years of life and putting my brother on the throne.

My brother sent me out of the kingdom on a mission to spy on the enemy, but I was arrested a few months into that assignment and assigned to a dungeon. Which of course was not a very pleasant ordeal, let me tell you.

Finally, after ten years in the dungeon and only one year of memory, I slipped out of jail and found my brother had usurped the throne.

I found they were trying to kill me, naturally, so I escaped."

"Quite a story," remarked the king.

"It sounds like truth, so I will accept you as truth, even though we've just met. You destroyed an Elven ship for us, so we are in your debt."

He abruptly threw the glass he was drinking from in the direction of the kitchen. "Whores, get me some fresher wine! If I had half my mind I'll kill the lot of ya!"

He belched again, to Relan's great disdain.

And at that moment, Diana came striding up to them.

"What are you doing here, wench?" yelled the king at her. "Can't you see we're having a man-to-man talk?"

"My deepest apologies, your majesty," she said, "but I have come here to save my life."

"No talking!" the king growled. "Women are not allowed to speak!"

"In the presence of men," Relan finished.

"Now that's a good lad!" the king roared, and promptly fell asleep into his mutton.

"What do we do now?" Diana whispered into Relan's ear.

"Well, we could explore the ship," said Relan. "Except for the fact that there's a rule: you only walk with a woman if you want to have relations with her. At the end of the meal all the dwarves, if they are still conscious,

go to a kitchen porthole and proposition a woman. The woman can make requests of a man, such that he shower; or shave, which never happens because those who do get raped by other men;

or give her a present or some other such thing. Of course, most soldiers on this ship don't have any belongings except for their own bodies and some clothes, so the high-ranking officers are usually the ones who get asked for money.

But anyway, we should not venture about the ship unless we want to do, as they say, the deed.

"Fine," said Diana. "How do we get off this ship? I have no rights here."

"Indeed," said Relan, turning the Dwarf King on his side so he could breathe more easily.

"I agree with you, we should leave. Or, we could commandeer this ship and destroy all the elves in our path."

"You know, you don't have to punish all the elves in the universe for doing one bad deed to you."

"I guess not," said Relan. "But what else is there to do?"

"You could take back your kingdom."

"With what army?"

"You have me," said Diana. "I know some magic."

"The royal magicians will end you like a shoe steps on a fly," Relan said.

"Not very nice of you to say."

"I could practice."

"Men are staring at us," said Relan. "We'll talk later. Why don't we go back to your people? Your nation?"

"Complicated question," said Diana. "I'm going back to the kitchen. Pick me up and we'll walk to my quarters. And this is _not_ a date!"

"I never said it was," Relan muttered, and started eating again.

After a few of the dwarves had gotten up from their repast and left, Relan did the same. He stopped by the kitchens and peeped in a few peepholes until he saw Diana. She appeared to be in a shrieking contest with a female dwarf.

"I told you I _want_ him!" said the dwarf, who was two feet shorter than Diana and four times as wide.

"He's not open tonight!" raged Diana, evading her opponent's physical blows with ease as she chased her around the room. Pots and pans fell from their resting places and

onto the floor, causing other dwarf ladies to pile into the room and start screeching themselves.

"Relan, is that you?" Diana said. "We must get out of here."

Relan went the twenty paces necessary to reach the actual door, and opened it. Female dwarves blocked the door but Relan had unsheathed his sword, and he made a wide arc with it.

The females, the tallest of which got up to Relan's chest, parted easily, even though some of them were holding metal knives and other utensils.

Relan and Diana quickly rushed through the gap, which ever so sullenly closed behind them.

"Have fun romping!" yelled a particularly fat one.

"Who's heavier?" said another.

"Very inappropriate," muttered Diana as they walked down the hallway to her quarters, being passed by other females who never missed a chance to stare at them.

They finally reached her room and locked the door. "Okay," Diana said. "I realize that you want to go destroy the elves, but as we discussed, that's not an option. You also proposed going back to my own people, who are a distant cousin of humans.

Unfortunately, I am an outlaw and cannot go back. But you might be able to get me reinstated."

"My Lady Diana," said Relan,

"what I would most like to do is go home and punish that usurper."

"What you need to do that is to learn magic," said Diana. "There are too many magicians in your brother's kingdom who would oppose you should you seek the crown."

"So what should I do?" Relan demanded.

"You will make me reinstated in my own people, and to do that you will marry me."

"You were outlawed," Relan began to say, "because you didn't take a mate of your own people?"

"You are especially intelligent, my love."

"Who did you fall in love with?" demanded Relan.

"You, of course," Diana said.

"That was after I had a wife," Relan said.

"It was also before you met your wife," said Diana.

"We were but youths!" said Relan. "I was a lad of sixteen and you were twelve!"

"That never stops a crush," said Diana prettily.

"I went home to get permission and that's when they exiled me. Because I said I preferred you over them."

Relan wiped his eyes with his shirt, and then they both laughed.

"I wish I could tell you back," said Relan.

"Well, you can, now," said Diana, moving in closer.

"My love, I cannot," declared Relan, moving further away from her.

"Oh, not _that_ again!" pleaded Diana. Relan stuck a finger to his lips. "Fine," Diana said softly, "I'll abide by the rules."

"Wait," said Relan. "How am I to be your husband when I was the person who caused the problem?"

Diana pursed her lips, considering. Finally she said,

"You'll have to learn magic to mask the effects."

"What effects?"

"Of being human."

"What, do I smell foully?" said Relan. "Do I smell of dungeons still?"

"No, you poet," laughed Diana.

"We just have certain ways that my species is different from yours. The first is DNA."

"My tutors taught me about that," Relan said.

"The second and the third and the fourth are all effects of the first. For example, my people usually have different kinds of bones in their faces, which allows us to make certain expressions of which you humans are not capable."

"That sounds interesting," said Relan. "So all I need to do is change my DNA?"

"Correct," said Diana. "And I know just the person to do it. By the way, the change in DNA has a side effect. A very important one."

"Yes?"

"Immortality."

Relan whistled a long, somber whistle. "No death," he said to himself. "How curious."

"Indeed," said Diana. "I am obviously already immortal, and I wanted to escape home for my own reasons and go on a special hunting trip. A husband-hunting trip."

"I have to divorce my wife," said Relan. "There are no horses here. How do I get a message to my wife?"

"There are ways," Diana declared. "I know another operative who frequently travels to your brother's kingdom who could drop the news."

"I sort of feel sorry for her," said Relan. "My wife. We must have had a nice life together. And the children, too."

"Yes, but you're _mine_ now," said Diana.

"I don't regret it one bit."

"I know," Diana purred.

"Let's escape this ship in one of the fighters and then set sail for my DNA-enhancing operative."

"I thought we were guests on this ship!" said Relan. "We killed the Elven ship for them!"

"No woman ever gets off a dwarf spaceship. Ever," said Diana. "They keep us until we are dead and have produced all the children and all of the bread and cauliflower and mutton they can handle. Their one kindness is that they don't kill the ones that have grown too old to do anything. Instead, they give them seats on the 'Womens' Council,' which is the body that governs the younger Dwarf women."

"Indeed?" said Relan. "Why don't you stay here and eventually you could be a council member!"

Diana stared at him with a cold hatred. Then her eyes evaporated and she almost hugged him, but caught herself. "You really know how to press on my buttons," she said.

Relan chuckled but said nothing for a while. Then he said, "Let's get out of here. How?"

"Steal one of their ships."

"Perhaps we could do that thing where we disappear and then reappear in on a different ship?"

"No, we'll be more direct," said Diana.

"Just come with me, here we go:" and they set off the corridor again, not caring about the still-open door behind them.

They passed several rooms where dwarves were loudly cohabiting with their females. One older dwarf woman was walking down the hallway towards them using some device that involved wheels and handles.

"That's called a 'walker,'" Diana whispered. "We need to use the elevator to get to the fighters. Since you don't know how to pilot a ship, we'll have to steal a two-seater. They do exist, and they are larger, more powerful and have light-speed capability. Watch out!" he said as a few dwarves rolled down the hallway, accompanied by a few highly-boisterous dwarf ladies. Diana and Relan hugged the wall. Then Diana said to one of the female dwarves: "Could you please tell me where the fighters are stored?"

"Of course!" she giggled, and winked. "How I'd love to come with you, but my life's here, I can't even think of freedom. Plus, here I get free food!"

"You have a slave's mentality," Relan told her. "You'd be much happier if you just came with us."

"The fighters only seat two, and who wants an almost-elderly dwarf woman anyhow? I'll be a Councilwoman yet!

"And I won't be your second wife! Kill her, and maybe I'll go!"

"But you're a better person than that," Diana purred, extending her hand in a farewell.

"Goodbye, sister," called the Dwarf woman. "Someday we shall meet again, and I shall be free."

"Good luck," said Relan.

"Oh, just go up two levels and to the left," she said before a manly hand grabbed her and pulled her into a booth.

"I'm going to do a spell," said Diana. "Whatever you do, don't talk. I am going to disguise us as two female Dwarves."

Before Relan had time to react, her felt his whole body start to tingle. He looked at Diana and her image was distorted, and growing more so.

After a few seconds, she had become a normal-sized dwarf lady, which meant she was three and a half feet tall.

Relan judged that what he had become was roughly the same thing. Diana put a finger to her lips and Relan nodded his understanding.

They both went up to the elevator and waited. A few seconds passed, and then the elevator arrived.

The sliding door opened and four Dwarf men filed out. "Boy, I can't wait to get drunk tonight," one of them said, clapping another on the back.

"I get first pick on women!" said another, clapping the same Dwarf's back.

The afflicted Dwarf said, "perhaps we could draw straws."

"How about a game of Kind-Ja?" suggested the fourth.

They piled past Diana and Relan, who had to stand side by side against the wall. "Ladies," growled one Dwarf, "aren't you supposed to be cooking? Or are you one of the new arrangements?" The rest of the Dwarves guffawed.

"We're one of the new ones," said Diana curtly. "And they've given us permission to use one of the ships."

One of the Dwarves whistled, a low whistle. "You fems are getting all the rights now, aren't you?" he said. "Before long they'll have you piloting the entire starship!" and he gestured all around him, and the other three Dwarves laughed and laughed and couldn't stop laughing.

Diana moved around them and into the elevator beyond, and Relan followed, forcing himself not to say anything, though it was very hard. The door swished shut behind them and Diana said, "Fighter Bay."

"You do not have permission to access that level," the computer informed her.

"Code Alpha Beta Pi Three Six Delta," said Relan.

"Code approved," said the computer, seemingly in a happier voice. "Beginning ascent."

Diana beamed at Relan. Relan showed her a badge he had stolen off of a drunk Dwarf and she applauded silently.

They both waited patiently as the elevator went in different directions. Relan was dying to ask her why they had not specified the same level that the Dwarf lady had told them, but something in the wise part of his mind caused him to clamp a lid on it. So he waited.

Finally, the elevator doors opened. They stepped out. Relan was impressed: there were ships of all sizes and makes around them in every direction.

There was a fighter about fifty yards away from them. "That one," she whispered, and both of them started walking calmly toward the ship. Relan noticed that Diana was now a Dwarf male; he scrutinized himself and saw that the same thing had also happened to him.

They were halfway there when they heard a call: " _Stop_!" someone said. A Dwarf in military uniform was running toward them, his blaster raised.

"Run!" Diana shouted, and they ran to the ship and Diana mounted the ladder,

Relan right behind her. Relan gave his passcode and the ship rose a little into the air. "Shields on," Diana commanded as the Dwarf's blaster cut through one of the ship's engines. Diana swore and jumped the ten feet to the ground, Relan still right behind her. "This one," Diana breathed, pointing to the ship directly in back of them relative to the previous ship and the Dwarf. "Luckily it's their drunken hour," she said as she mounted the ladder. It was the same class ship as the first one, and Relan's code worked again. It rose into the air. Relan hadn't even strapped in when the ship jerked toward the lone guard and shot him dead with its blasters.

"Shields up!" she commanded the computer. To Relan she said, "I hope strapped in now," and she said to the computer, "Torpedos and blasters full spread! Forward engines one hundred kilometers per second!"

The ship obeyed, and they crashed through the space door with their shields and weapons, escaping promptly into open space,. Relan saw the entire deck blow out into space and instantly felt a pang of guilt. Diana made the jump to lightspeed and Relan started to cry.

"It was necessary," she said. "Rasavatia can't have its future king crying in public! Stop this."

"This is hardly public," stated Relan. "It was just... my first time killing someone."

"If it makes you feel better, I was the one who did it," Diana said. "And I'm sure one of those guards you conked on your way out of your prison cell died."

"There's a chance none of them died," Relan offered.

"Don't be silly," she said. "Now... it will take us some time to get to my home planet."

"How much time?"

"Two or three hours, depending on where the planet is now," she said. "I've been away for two long."

"This is my first time in space," Relan said.

"That makes sense," Diana nodded.

"Will you marry me, my dear?" Relan said.

"First you need to get word to your wife that you're divorcing her," Diana replied. "Then I'll marry you."

"Mayhaps I will have many wives," suggested Relan with a curious smile.

"If you do, then I won't be one of them," she replied.

"You can be a concubine."

"Attention, stolen ship!" blasted a voice over the intercom.

"We will overtake you in ten minutes! We will destroy your ship along with your bodies! If you believe in an afterlife, pray to your god that you are on its good side!"

Diana calmly punched a series of numbers into the computer. "Yes?" she said to the computer. A human, or close species, answered: "Hear you loud and clear, Diana. What would like us to do?"

"Send out a fleet to my coordinates," she said. "And please hurry."

"You stirring up problems with the Elves and Dwarves this time?" said the voice, chuckling. "Funny that it is always my shift when you call in."

"I didn't make trouble this time," she said. "My passenger did. The Dwarves will kill us if you don't dispatch a destroyer at top light speed. Please help us."

"Dispatching," said the voice. "Done. Now can I make a big joke out of this?"

"Once we're home, sure," said Diana. "Isn't my companion attractive?"

"He is, indeed," observed the voice, which Relan was sure was male. "He could be my little brother."

"Aw, stop that," said Diana.

"Where's your ship?"

"Now, now, Diana, you know it's only been twenty seconds. Give them time to come."

"I'll give them three more minutes, none more, or else I will have to fake my way out of this situation," warned Diana.

"They're almost there," said the voice. "Ah... they're there! They have arrived."

"Please ask them to play stupid and say I went _that_ way," and Diana pointed in a random direction.

"Aye-aye," said the voice. "Welcome home, Diana!"

"Not for another two minutes," she muttered and turned off the sound.

"This confuses me," admitted Relan. "You were exiled because you chose me. Don't they know who I am?"

"You do look different," Diana mused. "Your entire face, your gait, everything is off. Not in a bad way, but it's just different."

"What will I do?" said Relan.

"If you get good enough at magic, you'll be able to fool them. At least, you'll be able to fool the layman. And you need to brush up on local culture and geography."

"For just one planet, correct?" said Relan. "More than one planet seems excessive."

"It _is_ excessive," Diana agreed,

"but you'll have to do it. Unless..."

"What?" said Relan as the spaceship exited light speed and prepared to dock at a spaceport.

"You could be from the long lost colony of Gallacia," she said.

"They also would look the same as us, but none of them have yet found their way back home."

Relan considered. Finally he said, "I think that is our best option."

"Let's hope they don't do a DNA test on you," said Diana.

"That's if our friend does a bad job. But he's pretty good. Or, shall I say, _she_ is pretty good."

"Where is she?" Relan wondered.

"I can't wait to be immortal."

"What, are you going to wait out your brother until he dies?" mocked Diana. "Anyhow, our friend works inside of the spaceport," said Diana. "Nobody knows where she or he actually lives."

They docked with an absurdly-loud clanking sound. They exited the ship and pretended to be walking around on a nice jaunt.

Diana pulled something black out of her pocket. This made Relan jump a little. Diana chuckled: "Still afraid of me, aren't you?" she accused.

"One must be afraid of _something_ ," Relan replied. "Now that I will no longer be afraid of death, I will shift my insecurities onto you."

"Fabulous," she said. Then she whispered something to the device. "Ah, okay," she said after a moment. "I'll meet you there."

They both continued walking down the hallway, which continuously sloped upwards. "This is quite unsettling," said Relan

, looking for Diana. But his eyes didn't find her; she was gone.

Then she suddenly reappeared: "Hold out your arm," she instructed.

Relan held out his arm, and she pressed something cold and metallic to his skin. Relan felt a mildly unsettling sensation, like he was being punched by two people, back and forth, until the end of time. But then the sensation ended, and Relan felt normal again.

"That's it?" he said. "I am now immortal, and a Gallacian?"

"That is correct, my prince," beamed Diana. "Shall we go down to the planet and start your magical instruction?"

"That sounds good," said Relan.

They boarded a planetside ship and no one gave them any problems. "The DNA of each passenger is scanned automatically upon entering and leaving the spaceport," Diana explained.

"They're still looking for the old you. The new you checks out as a different person."

The ship made the landing in five minutes and it was very smooth. "It almost feels like we didn't even move at all," said Diana. Relan could only concur. He looked out at the window at the landing strip and the other crafts stationed there.

It was hard to believe he had been in space and back.

"Come," Diana said, windmilling her arm for emphasis. "It's time to go home."

"Home," Relan repeated. "It will be good to have one."

"You can meet my wonderful parents," she said. "Come, see? There it is: the transporter."

"It transports us to your parents' house?" said Relan.

"Well, here on Relania we don't really _have_ houses," Diana said a little awkwardly.

"Relania? That's my name!"

"There are no coincidences," Diana smiled. "I'm not going to tell you why it's named like that, but soon enough I trust you'll figure it out."

"No, I'll find out now," Relan said angrily.

"Let's go to a more quiet place first," said Diana. She pushed a button and both of them dematerialized and materialized in the middle of a great clearing. There were numerous bird and insect sounds and there was a gentle breeze. It was about seventy-five degrees Farinheit.

"This looks like"

Earth!" Relan said. "My own planet!"

"Same vegetation and animals," Diana shrugged. "Let me answer your question. The answer is, in the future you will go back in time and settle this colony world from Earth."

"I'm sorry I asked," said Relan.

"I'm sorry I told you," replied Diana. "Anyway, my parents should be arriving at any minute... ah, here they are!" And an elderly man and woman appeared in front of them. "Papa! Mama!" Diana said, hugging them both while Relan stood to the side.

"Come on in, Relan," said Diana's father. "We're just one big bundle of love! But...oh, I forgot."

"Sorry, I just happen to be really religious," said Relan.

"Well, religion is not for everybody," Diana's mother said.

"Actually, it is," said Relan, "but I won't aggrieve you further."

They all laughed. "I was just explaining to Relan how we have no homes," said Diana.

"Where do you sleep?" Relan asserted.

They all laughed again, except Relan.

"We sleep wherever we want to," said the father. His wife and daughter looked adoringly up at him, even though they were only a few inches shorter.

"Sleeping centers, largely," said Diana. "You get your choice of mattresses, we materialize your favorite for you on the spot."

"Sounds comfortable," said Relan, staring at the tame birds and squirrels who had come up to them for scraps.

"Oh, it is," said Diana's mother.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I've been curious, Diana," Relan said, "Why did you leave this wondrous place for my foul planet?"

Diana looked at her parents and then looked at him. "I dunno. I just liked it."

"Aw, don't lie to him, dear!" her mother interjected. "It was a school project, wasn't it, honey?"

Diana buried her face in her hands.

"So I was a school project," said Relan. "How fascinating. Mayhaps you took some stool samples? I learned a little bit from my tutor about science, anyhow."

"It was a project on directed evolution," her father said fondly. "And now she's got her specimen right here! No more stool samples!"

"I still have to go back and get some more," Diana muttered morosely from between her palms.

"Well, I don't mind so much being someone's lab experiment," said Relan, "even though I've never seen the inside of a lab in my life, discounting what you just told me. But now I'm famous, aren't I, Diana? You can take your results and present them to the scientific community."

"Fine," she said, sobbing. "I suppose you want a ride back to Earth?"

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Relan said. "Or, rather, I will be needing one after I learn magic from your people."

"Over here, we don't call it magic," supplied Diana's father. "We call it technology."

"He likes to go on long philosophical tirades," said Diana. Her mother chuckled and couldn't stop chuckling. Diana's father clapped her on the back and that seemed to help.

"Essentially, it's learning how the universe works and how to control it," said Diana's father. "Where should we start? I assume I can be your coach."

"Actually, Papa, I was going to be his coach," Diana said.

"Never mind, then. I can be his fan."

"Everybody needs fans," Diana's mother said appreciatively. "Our daughter has been ours for most of her lifetime, ever since we were dispatched to deal with the evil trolls on Marus B."

"Let's not confuse him," laughed Diana.

"I might be smarter than you think, Diana," Relan asserted. "I have observed the magicians in my father's castle. They preferred mostly fire spells, and since the only flammable thing around was hay and since they were too lazy to venture into the woods to get firewood, our castle always smelled of burnt hay."

"Quite a story," Diana's father approved. "Well! We'd better get going, especially since Diana wants you all to herself.

"Goodbye!"

"Au revoir!" said his wife, and then both of them disappeared.

"That phrase was not English, as you say this language is called," Relan said. "It is more like the savage tongues of the South."

"On your planet, yes," Diana admitted. "That is one place where a descendant of the original French is spoken."

Relan, feeling affronted, said: "I wish I knew as much as you, m'lady."

"In time, you will know more than me or even the emperor," said Diana. Then she put her hand to her mouth. "I shouldn't have said that," she said.

Relan looked around the glade, searching for an answer. "I'll forget it," he finally said. This trip was definitely not going as he expected.

"Good," pronounced Diana, although Relan wasn't quite sure she meant it.

"Now how will we smart?"

"I suppose you can teach me one trick, and then I'll move onto the next, and so on," offered Relan.

"That's it, but it's not tricks I'm teaching you," said Diana. "It's real magic."

"I thought you said it was really technology."

"Obviously it's the same thing," said Diana.

Relan felt hurt, but he didn't let it show. "Teach me something, then."

"First you need a little preparation," declared Diana. She produced some kind of plastic device from her pack

and proceeded somehow to spray water on Relan's arm.

"It's not really water," she said. "It's a bunch of viruses. They will change your DNA so that you will really be one of us, outside and in."

Relan couldn't help but blanch at the thought of many little viruses recoding his DNA as he stood there in the middle of some wild field on an unknown planet.

But it was too late: first he felt the pain in his stomach, then in his limbs, then finally in his brain as the viruses did their little work. Immediately he planned to resist this offering, if there was actually anything he could do against it.

Diana was saying something about rocks: "We used their DNA to create the core for most of the viruses. Otherwise the body would just annihilate the cell walls of the viruses and nothing would happen, their DNA would be destroyed. So we used the rocks. This was found out by mistake, as many discoveries often are."

Relan felt like he was about to faint, so he sat down on the fecund ground and then put his head down next to a wad of excrement from some small creature. At least his head was fine now. There would be no need to wash it in the future. If there was really a future to look forward to. He closed his eyes.

From some deep, dark corner of his mind he saw Diana screaming, and her parents and some man in blue appearing

out of nowhere and injecting him with various solutions that somehow Relan concluded were anti-pathogens.

Then they injected him with something else and he fell into a long, dreamless sleep.

When he woke up,

He was in some kind of enclosure. He could see the ceiling so he lifted up his head. This earned him a big bump on his forehead and a shower of pain. He howled, unable to control himself.

"He's up!" he heard someone say, and the hard, see-through plastic was lifted. "Sorry about that!" said the voice. "We had to make sure you were okay, so we put you in one of these. I hope your welt heals quickly."

Relan was unable to speak, so he just nodded.

"Come, now," said the voice. "You've been asleep for twenty hours. It's time for you to test your magic."

Relan forced his mouth to move: "Don't I get any tea or therapy or anything?" he hoped.

The man laughed as Relan sat up. He was dressed all in blue, except for a strange pair of goggles. "These help me look through your entire body to detect problems," he said, taking them off and putting them in his pocket. "I hope you feel more comfortable now."

"Mildly," said Relan, trying to act the part of the royal he was.

"Apparently they injected the wrong substance," said the man.

"There was only one person who injected me," said Relan.

"Another breach of protocol," said the man. "Not good news for that family."

"They are helping me regain my rule over my horrid brother," Relan informed him.

"That is also illegal," said the man, obviously some kind of magistrate. "We'll have to erase your memory and send you home."

Relan punched him and he fell. He punched him again and he was unconscious. Now what to do?

He thought he heard a woman's voice talking to he scurried down the hallway in search of it.

"Oh, thank goodness, Relan!" cried Diana. Her mother and father, who were in back of her, made similar pronouncements.

Relan pressed the green button on the wall and the cell door opened. "Time to go," Relan said. "I incapacitated the medic. Or prison warden, if he also has those duties."

"We go this way," said Diana's father, pointing to his left and Relan's right. "I have been here before."

"Career criminal," said Diana's mother.

"You do know, we're going to have to go with you in order to escape the authorities," said Diana. "My mother, father, me and you have to fit inside that little two-person fighter we piloted here."

"We must get to the matter transfer system," said Diana's father as they walked past the body of the blue-robed figure. "Diana, you and Relan carry him, I'm too old for this sort of thing."

They carried him to the locked door, beyond which lay their escape. All four of them got on their feet and together they brought the unconscious officer to his feet. Diana's father pried his fingers inside the poor man's mouth and read the information on his pin: "Matthew Collander, requesting access."

"Please hold your eye up to this slot," said a computer voice, this time clearly female. They opened one of the medic's eyes and held it up so the computer could see.

"Approved," said the computer, and the door opened.

They all piled in and went to the site of the fighter, a large hangar bay where numerous on and off-world ships were docked.

They got off the transporter and walked to the craft they had stolen from the dwarves.

"Step up," said Diana. "All three of you are going in the luggage."

There were some protests but Diana simply answered that she needed room in order to pilot the spacecraft.

They lifted into the air and out of the spaceport, out of the atmosphere, and into hyperspace.

"That was easy," commented Diana's mother, who was seated next to her husband, and by association Relan as well.

"We can never come back there," Diana's father said softly. "But who cares!" He laughed, a big, melodious laugh that caused all the rest of them to also burst into fits.

"So where are we going, m'lady?" said Relan.

Diana shrugged off the title, or at least it seemed that way when Relan saw her on the viewer. "We are going," she said, "To Relan's old world. We were supposed to learn magic on our own home planet, but

unfortunately they came at us and locked us up. Now we will all have to live with Relan on Relan's home planet."

Her father merely shrugged and laughed. Her mother was a different case, though: "Why can't we just hide on our own home planet?" she said. "There are lots of mountains and lots of caves!"

"They have sensors," said her husband, Diana's father.

"Can't we build a sensor shield?" said Diana's mother.

"They would see there was an absence of of flora and fauna where there was life before that," said her husband.

"Can't we find a new planet?"

"They're all charted and mapped, sorry dear," replied her husband. "Unless you want to spend eternity in hyperspace, and we'd still run out of food and they'd find us also. Not a good situation."

"Arriving at Earth," the genderless computer voice said. "Prepare for reentry into normal space."

Diana's mother laughed. "We don't have much to prepare," she said, still giggling. "Where are our seatbelts?"

Her husband motioned to his head, and said, "Space Sickness. She gets it all the time."

"Time to dock," said Diana quietly.

"Correct, I was partially asleep, but I still heard your comment," Relan drowsed.

"Whatever," said Diana. "We'll park the ship next to our base and put a cloak over it. That should keep it safe."

"Your 'base?'" Relan questioned.

"Yes, we infiltrate your population with a few of us so that we can direct your evolution," said Diana.

"What?" Relan screamed.

"You heard me," shrugged Diana. "I don't have to explain myself to you, or to anyone else. If you want to talk to anybody, talk to my supervisor. Or with the Office of Communication with Native Population."

"There is such an office?" Relan questioned, disgusted with the answer he was just given.

"I still want to be your queen, your consort!" Diana begged once she saw his expression. She fell to the ground. " _Please_!"

"I will pardon you, my lady," Relan said through gritted teeth. He simply was a slave to her charm. It was best she didn't know that, though, so he concentrated on not looking at her.

"Landing now," said the computer. The landing had been so smooth from the beginning of the Earth's atmosphere that Relan hadn't suspected they had already landed. The windows were closed, too.

"Let's explore the compound," said Diana, taking off her safety belt and getting up. She unfastened Relan and her parents, opened the door, and jumped out. "Ow," she said, "I think I stubbed my toe."

The rest of them piled out. "I don't see your compound," said Relan.

"We do!" shouted Relan's father, causing his wife to giggle uncontrollably. He had a pair of dark glasses on.

"Can I get a pair of those?" asked Relan.

"But you don't need them," said Diana.

"I might in the future."

"You'll ask me then," Diana said, cutting off any further conversation. She pressed a button on her outfit.

Now Relan could see it. It was a building that stretched into the sky and perhaps beyond, but it was narrow at its base.

"How many people can fit into this thing?" he wondered.

"As many as we need," said Diana. "If we get more people from home that are stationed here, we simply build upwards. Or we establish another base on the other side of the planet. But I prefer building up on this building," and she patted its chrome wall affectionately. "We have about two hundred people here at the moment, but I'd like to see a couple thousand more come and enhance our lives."

They entered the tower through doors that disappeared and then magically reappeared behind them. Relan had seen enough by now to not explode in shock, but he was still a bit apprehensive when he saw such a thing as he could never imagine in his lifetime before this excursion.

There was a woman behind the desk. At least these things didn't change: it was a desk, just as existed in Rasavatia and in other Earthly kingdoms, and it was made of wood, and not some space-age material such as polished metal (usually used in swords) or something else that was unimaginable.

"Please sign in here," she said, indicating a notebook and a pen.

"Now that is a nice piece of parchment," said Relan. "What animal is it from?"

"It's not," said the lady, giving a mild smile to Diana. "Don't you know paper when you see it?"

"It's not an animal hide," declared Relan. "Or, at least, it's not one that I know of: it's cut much too finely."

"He's hopeless, this one," said Diana's father. Everyone chuckled, even Relan.

"So he's working for us now?" asked the desk lady. "I thought he was in the local population. Oh, okay...." she winced as Diana put a finger to her lips. "Although the local computers will probably report what you said to the CEO anyway."

"Not anymore!" said Diana. "I had them disabled."

"Why?"

"We voted on it," said Diana. "It just makes you more relaxed without Big Brother right next to you, doesn't it?"

Her parents laughed and so did the desk lady.

"Madam Secretary," said Relan, proffering a bow, "I would like to learn magic. Now that you know our secret, could you ask somebody to teach me quickly so that I may go forth and defeat my brother the usurper and murderer in battle?"

"Um," said the desk lady.

"Only _I_ can do it, honey," said Diana, lapsing into the language of her people instead of the more formal diction of Relan's people.

"Because this is a secret, you see?"

"Fine, m'lady," said Relan. "Let's start now, then."

Diana looked at her parents and then at the desk lady. "I thought we might want to get settled in before we started training Relan."

"You've waited all your life, can't you wait a little more?" said Diana's father.

"No, he doesn't deserve this," said Diana. "Yes, Relan, we will try our training now. We need to get you a jumpsuit."

"Why me? Why not you?" Relan said.

"I will be here, training you remotely," said Diana. And with that she began to rummage through her pack. Before long, she pulled out a rectangular metal slab. She put it on the ground and began pushing buttons. "This thing is new, I can't wait to start testing it," she said.

"Okay. You will go to the testing area. Which is to be your own world, clear of this building, because magic doesn't work in here."

"You're going to couch it to him in such simplified speech?" said Diana's mother. "Honey," she said, addressing Relan, "what she means is that our _technology_ won't work unless you're outdoors. There is no magic, as far as the universe is concerned, and anyone who uses the term is a child of superstition."

"Whatever, Mother," said Diana with mirth.

"Don't whatever me," said Diana's mother. "I will ground you and you will get no allowance."

They all laughed, even Relan.

"Let's go to the forest separating Rasavatia from Lasavia. That is where we will conduct our training," Diana said. "Parents, enjoy yourselves in exile. This is the place you cannot escape from if you don't want to end up in prison somewhere. And you didn't hear," she said, pointing to the desk lady.

"As long as it's only a misdemeanor, I'm fine with it," she said. "No murders, nothing of that sort, correct?"

"On my honor," Relan said.

"At least I can trust this one," the desk lady said. "They never lie."

"Ah, well," said Diana's father

"Correct," said the desk lady. "Your stay here, as well as your wife's and your child's, depend on how Relan is fairing. If he's doing well, you will be doing well. If he is not... then let's just say alarm bells will go off."

Relan was feeling quite accomplished; he knew what an "alarm bell" was.

"Fine, fine, fine," Diana said, acting bored, but Relan knew she really was not. Would she decide to oppose this secretary? The secretary seemed very powerful.

Regardless, Diana's two parents left for one of the upper floors where they would be staying for the rest of their lives. Diana motioned for Relan to follow her out the door, so Relan did. He was a bit apprehensive: he had never had a woman teach him anything before in his life.

Besides the inappropriate nature of the relationship he was about to begin with Diana (her having more power than him during their magic lessons)

, the fact that they had been lovers clouded things further. He was so accustomed to ordering her around that to hear the opposite occur would cause him fits. Perhaps.

"So what will we be learning today, my love?" asked Relan as they walked out of the building and toward the forest.

"How to keep yourself from getting killed," Diana said and whirled on him. A red beam of light came out of both her clenched, intertwined hands. It struck Relan full in the chest and pushed his body some meters back until it collided with a tree. Relan collapsed and fell unconscious.

He awoke still against the tree, and Diana was standing over him applying a salve to his head and other wounds. "What was that for?" he complained.

"Next time you'll have to dodge the light," laughed Diana. "I'm glad you're not dead."

"I wish I was," said Relan. "Do you have anything to alleviate headache?"

"Sure!" said Diana, and started chanting a spell.

Oh, no, thought Relan and he instinctively rolled to the side, behind another tree.

The tree's trunk from the ground until two meters up was utterly destroyed. Pieces of bark and wood went flying in every direction and there was a giant sound like a thunderclap.

And Relan was again pushed against another tree. But he had a soft landing this time, at least compared to his first try.

"Good!" Diana's high-pitched voice sailed over to him from somewhere aft. "Now, I will teach you how to defend against that spell."

"I feel like I'm about to die," Relan said.

"Very good!" said Diana. "Then the spell had its intended effect.

Ready to continue?

"I suspect I am," Relan conceded warily, standing up and wobbling on both legs.

"Okay," said Diana, "Here's what you need to do. When I activate the spell, you must say the following words: Machsom."

"Okay," said Relan, falling to the ground and then getting up again painfully. "I hope I'm ready. I will lean against a tree as you attack me."

"Good," said Diana. "You're learning quickly." She gathered the energy required and released her will. There was a sort of crackling sound, like lightening might sound if it was in a bottle. Then Diana, now a faint speck on the horizon (Relan had travelled quite a distance as an aftermath of the first two spells),

Had two red beams coming out of her hands. Quickly Relan muttered the spell she had told him

. The two red beams slammed him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Then, a few seconds later, he got up groggily and said, "Again!"

"Ho ho, and I thought _I_ was going to be the bad girl in this production," said Diana. "In my home world, they would call you a 'bad ass.'"

"Thank you very much, but I wouldn't want to be called that, if you please, ma'am," said Relan. "I am neither an ass nor bad. I do wish I had an ass now, though; he could carry me away from your foul instruction."

"You should teach me how to speak like you do sometime. But not now. Get on your feet, soldier!" And she began to prepare another spell.

Relan grabbed the closest thing he could, which was a fallen tree branch, and hurled it at her. Since it was very heavy, it didn't go very fast, and it didn't go very far. Relan tried again with a rock. He pitched it at her at the same time she released her spell: the two red beams annihilated the rock but the rock also annihilated the two red beams.

"Now we're making some progress!" Diana hooted.

"Now I want you to cast a spell to stop me. It's easy! Just say the word I told you, stronger, much stronger this time."

Relan had no choice but to acquiesce, because otherwise he feared she'd kill him.

She prepared the spell and launched it. Relan instantly put every piece of mental energy he had into his blocking spell, and directed it not to disperse the beams but to reflect them back at Diana. Diana noticed this and a mortified expression appeared on her face. She did her own blocking spell and the beams dispersed.

"Wow!" she breathed. "Relan, you are a quick learner."

"Indeed," Relan remarked, but he said no more.

"Okay," said Diana. "I think it's time for you to reclaim your kingdom now."

"What?" Relan protested. "I only know one spell!"

"I'll give you a book to study from."

"I'll make my own way, thank you very much," said Relan.

He was starting to mistrust Diana. Why would she want him to go in almost defenseless, with no offensive weapons? It just didn't feel right.

"Fine, I'll teach you one more spell," said Diana.

"The red beam spell that you used on me."

"That one's too hard."

Relan mimicked Diana's mode of speech: "Okay," he said, sighing. "That was your last chance." He strode back toward the compound and the building that stretched into the sky.

Then Diana appeared in front of him. Relan was startled into submission: how did she do that? "Come now," Diana was saying. "You won't dare defy me."

"I do," said Relan, pulling out his sword and swinging it at her. She disappeared, and reappeared a few meters in front of him, blocking his way back to the compound.

"What are you, a demon?" Relan asked.

"No," she said, "Something worse."

"Look over there!" Relan said suddenly, tilting his head and looking up at the trees. Diana copied his movement. That was when he hurled a rock at her.

It passed right through her.

"Clever little Relan," Diana smirked.

"But I know how to make myself transparent, and you don't."

Actually, Relan saw through her spell. But he pretended he didn't.

"Uh, can you teach me how to do that, too?" he asked.

"In due time," Diana smiled. "Now, why don't I walk you over to Smyysgard so you can reclaim your throne?"

Relan suddenly started sprinting back to the compound. He sprinted through Diana on the way. She watched him with a disgusted expression while he

distorted her image. "You're very easy to figure out!" he shouted back at her. "I learned about holograms from my tutors!"

"Well I learned a lot more from mine!" snarled a voice that was deeper and meaner than Diana's, but still Diana's.

It came from all around him and he didn't know which way to escape. Finally, he sprinted toward the extremely-tall building. He entered through the automated sliding doors and almost fell as he skidded on the polished marble floor. The attendant was still there, sitting at her desk. She had seen no sign of Diana, so Relan decided to go on an elevator. If Diana was going to kill him, he had better be ready and have some contacts, so they'd know an outlaw was on the loose.

Right as he was about to board the elevator, he told the attendant that Diana was seeking his death.

"Really?" said the attendant.

"Where is she now?"

"I'm not sure," Relan said. "She's using a hologram to hide her true location."

The attendant frowned. "That's not legal,"

she said. "I'll have to file a grievance with the company." She sighed: "She was always a nice lady, I never knew her to be so devious before today."

"Love makes us all do irrational things," Relan said awkwardly.

"This Diana of yours is a big troublemaker," said the woman. "Her parents seem to be alright, but not her."

"She said she would train me in magic, but she only taught me one spell," said Relan.

"Which one?"

"Some sort of defensive bubble," Relan said, putting his hands out to either side of himself for emphasis.

"Well, at least that's something," said the lady. She extended her hand.

"Sorry, m'lady," said Relan somewhat sadly. "I don't touch women."

"What if you're married to her?"

"Then of course," blushed Relan.

The lady blushed also. "My name's Grace," she said. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your training, sir... Relan, is it?"

"Training?" Relan said. "What training? I thought my only choice was with Diana!"

Grace smiled. Then she said, "No, Relan, you're wrong. Since you cannot go back out to your own world outside the compound, you will become one of us and live with us and do what _we_ do. Which includes 'magic,' or, as I like to call it, the force."

"The _what_?" said Relan.

"I sometimes watch old holos from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries," she said. "My vocabulary plagiarizes those films but nobody ever catches me since nobody watches those films anymore."

Relan shrugged: "Curious," he said, and said nothing more.

Grace was studying him. "Well, of course you don't know what a film or a holo is, of course," she said. "I will have to teach you. Diana is going to be very jealous of me."

"I hope she is," Relan said and smiled.

Grace smiled, too. "Shall I lead you to your quarters?" she said.

Relan caught a wave of apprehension: "Wait, m'lady: are you saying I work for the company now?"

"There's nothing else to do with you," said Grace matter-of-factly.

"You can't return to your people because you know too much about us. We can't program your memory, if that's what you're thinking, because it's against the law--"

"Wait," said Relan. "You know about me and my memory? That they stole it from me?"

"Of course!" Grace shrugged. "That's our job. We do research on indigenous peoples."

"That horrid elf stole my memories," said Relan. "I think he is dead, but I am not sure."

"If you get good enough, you can return to the field and perhaps even recover your lost memories," she said. "But it costs a lot of money. You'll have to work here for a while in order to save that much. Or, you can try and convince the board of directors that they should pay for it."

"You said I could return to the field. Perhaps I could even return to my wife?"

"If your brother thinks you're not a threat to his reign."

Relan bared his teeth: "I must kill him," he said.

"No, you won't," warned Grace. "Or you will be locked up until the end of your days. Which judging from your appearance are fifty or sixty years at most."

"At least I will have some little magic gadgets to play with," Relan muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Good. You do know that you'll report directly to me. And if you do a bad thing, that also reflects badly on me. So please be good. For me."

"Fine," growled Relan. "Fine, m'lady. I will do all you say."

"Very good," she beamed. "You might become important enough for us that you might live a few hundred years, or maybe forever."

Relan bowed stiffly. "I would be as a god," he said.

"There are no gods," said Grace, "but that is a good analogy."

"I am forever grateful," said Relan. He paused for a moment, thinking. Then he said, "Are you the head of the company?"

Grace laughed. "No, of course not. There are no heads. Each employee has equal power."

"I thought some workers could be immortal but others die normal deaths at seventy or eighty years."

"If you have enough money you can live forever," said Grace. "But there's a growing movement of people who actually want to die, so the average lifespan in the Empire is decreasing."

"What is it now?" asked Relan.

"Oh, maybe two hundred or two hundred and fifty years," Grace supplied.

"When can we start?" said Relan eagerly.

"Now, if you like," she said. "We'll need to teach you some magic first. But let's take a look at your quarters first."

They piled into an elevator. Right before the doors closed, Grace said: "Vacancy at the front desk for the next few days. Computer, please transmit to all workers."

"Done," said the computer, who had the pleasant voice of a young lady. "Is there anything else you require?"

"Not right now, thank you," said Grace as the elevator doors closed.

The elevator went up and up. After about two minutes it stopped and the doors opened. There was a long hallway, and they set off down it.

After they passed about a dozen doors on both sides they came to a door that had a banner affixed onto it. "Welcome Relan," it said.

"Mayhaps your computer is a ghost," said Relan.

Grace laughed. "I've heard that more than once before."

"Diana?" Relan inquired.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Just a feeling," Relan said. "I must kill her someday. She meant for me to die."

"I've also heard _that_ one before. From _you_!

_Today_!"

Relan did not laugh; he took his vows very seriously. If this woman chose to argue with him, it would not affect his grim determination.

He chose to change the subject: "I would like to learn magic," he said. "Shall we go outside?"

"I'll report that you saw your quarters and found them to your liking," said Grace.

"Yes, please do," said Relan. "I just am interested in magic."

"I myself am somewhat of a novice; I've only been performing magic for ten years or so."

"Ten _years_?" Relan said. "That is quite a long time!"

"I am almost two hundred years old," said Grace.

Relan laughed and laughed. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

"It's just that I've never met a woman who is that old," Relan said, still chuckling. "You look like a young woman just coming into marriageable age."

"Now _that_ one I will repeat to all my co-workers," she said. "Only the ones older than me, of course."

Relan stuck his head inside his quarters. To his surprise, a light turned on automatically. The light illuminated the entire room, for his apartment was just one room. The light revealed multiple magical objects of unknown function. "Someday I will have to learn just what everything here does," he said. "But not now. Please teach me some magic."

"We can't go back to the forest," said Grace. "Diana would likely find us and kill us. But what we _can_ do is practice on the other side of the world, where there are no human inhabitants."

"Really?" said Relan, amazed at the idea. He was too overcome with too much wonder already to express fresh wonder for this new concept. "How do we get there?"

"Well, if we had _your_ level of technology we could take a ship."

Relan pouted. "No need to rub it in," he said. "I know I'm a savage. You know, I feel like I'm Moses. From that old book, do you remember what it's called? My memory is horrendous, particularly after they made me forget ten years."

"You must be a poet," said Grace. "Here, I will call for a taxi." She fiddled with a few controls that were on her arm, and then said, "It'll be here in three minutes. We get good service."

"What is coming?" said Relan. "Is it one of those birds that fly but don't flap their wings?"

"Something smaller," said Grace. "I bet you won't want to get in once it gets here."

They waited a minute or two and then a loud, angry sound approached from the mountains. It became louder and louder until it became apparent that it was coming from a little cabin with huge, invisible sticks made of metal that were keeping the cabin in the air. The absurd little craft made its landing inside the cloak so the villagers couldn't see.

"Won't people hear that?" asked Relan.

"They'll just think it's some random god taking a shit," she said, and then put her hand in front of her mouth. "My apologies," she said, "you speak such lofty English. I shouldn't spoil it with my little swears I like to put in there every once and a while."

Relan shrugged. "It's all the same to me, m'lady," he said. "You are of higher rank than me, so you can say whatever you like."

"You simpering fool," she said as she was stepping onto the craft. "We're all of the same rank. I just happen to have more experience. Come now, come onto the helicopter."

"So _that's_ what it's called," Relan mused.

He jumped onto the craft, which caused it to sway fearfully. Grace held him and he could smell her perfume. "I'm--" he began.

"Not allowed to touch women," Grace concluded. "I know, but this is obviously a different case now, isn't it?"

Relan ignored her and scanned the scenery around them as they slowly rose up. "We must be travelling at about two hundred miles an hour," said Relan. "Am I correct?"

The pilot turned around and gave them a thumbs-up.

"We're going to start the jet engines pretty soon, though!" the pilot yelled back over the sound of the rotors.

"So you can have better hearing! The jets are a lot quieter than the rotors."

"What a convenience," breathed Grace. Relan just furrowed his brow.

"How long will this take?" said Relan.

"Oh, the flight?" said the pilot as the jet engines came online and the rotors ceased to move.

"Depends how fast we go."

"Optimum cruising speed, then," Relan said. "Whatever conserves fuel."

"My Lord," said the pilot, chuckling, "You are in charge here. You and this pretty lady right here."

"What do you mean?" Relan asked.

"He means that there is no money here. We are completely socialist. We provide for everyone. If you want to go faster, we can, and it'll use more fuel, but it'll also take less time. You choose."

"I don't have much experience in this," Relan decided. "You decide, Grace."

"You do know you're famous, right?" said the pilot, modulating his voice this time.

"What?" Relan said.

"We have socialism but we also have no privacy," explained Grace. "No privacy at all. Everyone is the president and everyone sits in Congress and everyone is the head of the CIA. So everyone naturally knows about you. There are no leaked documents; everything is readily accessible."

"What?" Relan fumed. "Is this really true?" Then he softened his tone and said, "Well, if everyone is as smart and beautiful as Grace here is, I suppose I wouldn't mind..."

"Believe me," said the pilot. "You're famous." Then he winked at Grace.

"Fine, my lady," Relan said. "Please dictate our speed to the pilot at the maximum speed we can achieve."

"I heard that, no need to repeat," said the pilot. Another set of doors Relan hadn't known existed closed off the glass windows of the copter/jet and now the only portal they could see through was the front windshield, though some layer of material was moved by the craft over that window too

. They were each seated with their belts on, and suddenly they were facing the sun. Relan must have said something unintentionally because the voice of the pilot came over the intercom:

"Don't worry, son, I have done this before! We just go into a low Earth orbit and then coast down to our destination."

"How much time in space?" Relan queried. His insides were getting queasy.

"If you have to barf, please do so in this bag," the pilot said, handing him a small paper contraption. It was an awfully small bag. Relan just tried to hold it in, with not much success.

The bag was almost too small. "Could I have another bag?" Relan asked. But then he noticed something. "Grace?" he called to his companion. "The pilot is unconscious!" He took a look and behold, Grace was unconscious, too! He swore, even though he was not allowed to, being of noble birth.

"Warning," said the computer, "Cabin pressure at thirty percent and dropping."

That was when he noticed a tiny circle in the windshield. Relan quickly ripped a piece of cloth from his garments and plugged the hole; it wasn't perfect but it would have to do. The computer seemed satisfied now when it spoke: "Cabin pressure at thirty-five percent and rising. Full cabin pressure will be established in approximately two minutes and thirty seconds."

"Thank you," Relan awkwardly said.

"You're welcome," the computer responded cooly. "It is my job to provide you with critical information relating to the ship's functions."

"Good," said Relan, assuming command even as the pilot and Grace stirred. "How long until our destination?"

"I have not been specified a destination," said the computer.

"Goodness gracious," muttered Relan.

"That is not a location as far as I am aware," said the computer.

Relan cursed at the computer in response.

"Thank you, Organic," said the computer. "Your version of life, the anti-silicon version, is much more haphazard than our seamless digital version. You should try becoming a computer, or at least a cyborg, in the near future."

"I must specify the landing site, correct?" he told the computer.

"Correct."

"How about exactly halfway around the world, which was our original plan?"

"Prudent," agreed the computer,

"but what exactly do you mean by halfway? Do you also want to go into the Southern Hemisphere or do you want to stay in the Northern Hemisphere?"

Relan calculated, even as both of his human companions turned over fitfully in their sleep.

"How about we stay in this hemisphere?" he decided. "Our craft might develop more problems so we should be careful."

"A prudent decision, Captain," said the computer. "And may I suggest we stay above dry land for as much time as possible in order to avoid being lost at sea?"

"A wonderful conclusion, Sir Computer," said Relan. "My god, I am thankful we didn't crash."

"I agree with you," said the computer.

"I did not want my own life to end."

"That makes two of us, Sir Computer," Relan said. There were several luxurious leather chairs, and he sat down in one of them.

Suddenly, the pilot stood up and pointed at gun at him. Relan raised his hands: "I am no threat to you, friend," he said. "Kindly lower your arm. I become apprehensive when my life depends on how far someone's index finger pushes on the trigger."

The pilot sighed and lowered the gun. "I see you've made modifications to the flight plan," he said.

"The computer and I had a little talk, if that's what you mean," said Relan. "Why did you point the gun at me?"

"I am a rebel," the pilot proudly declared. "You and her will never return to your homeland. You will work for us now."

"And you expect us to behave?" questioned Relan in a placid tone.

"You have no choice," the pilot shrugged. "You must obey. And by the way, the computer's foolproof. It never changed its flight plan. We're going to the rebel base."

"Was the hole in the windshield your own idea?"

"No," said the pilot. "Sometimes these things happen."

"Why us?" said Relan. "Why are Grace and I so important to you?"

"You are unimportant to me," said the pilot. "Grace, however, is extremely valuable."

"Why is that?"

"Because there are many others like me," said Grace, who was now sitting up. "Ow, my head hurts."

"Good!" said the pilot. "I am glad that we are both suffering together."

"You are a swine," said Grace.

"Whatever," said the pilot.

"Good, we're close. Everybody strap in." He waved his gun and Relan and Grace moved to their seats. "Good," he said, strapping himself in. "You will remain in your seats until we arrive at the base. You have no choice in the matter because I have made your restraints permanent. I neglected to do that on the flight over but things have changed now." He started talking in a low voice to the computer.

"Sorry, sir," said the computer to Relan softly. "He's the boss, not you."

"You could have told me that."

"That's not in my programming," answered the computer.

"Aren't you programmed to think for yourself?" asked Relan.

"No," the computer said.

They were now descending through the upper atmosphere. The cabin became progressively warmer. "Can't you turn on the cool air?" said Relan. "The lobby of the company building was nice and cool."

The computer didn't answer

so Relan turned to Grace. "Why are you so valuable to him?" he said.

"I am a clone," she explained. "My name is Grace but there are many others in our company with the same appearance and DNA as me."

"I have learned about clones," began Relan.

"No talking!" shouted the pilot as the spacecraft dropped below the clouds. "It's almost a hundred degrees in here, don't want you to lose your breath or faint or anything!"

"I thought cloning was dangerous, the DNA degrades," said Relan.

"They found out a way to fix it," said Grace. "And my sisters and I are the result."

"Can you tell me about Diana?" Relan said as the plane began to drop suddenly. He almost had to use the bag again.

"She is an outlaw, she likes to organize coups wherever she goes in order to feel important and in order to satisfy her appetite for violence," said Grace.

"Don't be sad--she even tricked me."

"How?" said Relan.

"She has many personal hologram generators," Grace said.

"She can transform herself into whatever she wants. This gives her great power."

"What will happen to us now?"

"I assume I will be experimented on to see what I'm allergic to, and which poisons work the best on me. Then they will take the information they have gathered and let it loose in our compound," she said.

"Why clones in the first place?"

"Cheaper, I think," said Grace. "But the number one reason is that I'm good at everything: or, at least, my parent was. The original. She is very versatile, she can do many kinds of jobs. Computers, security, maintenance, you name it." She sighed. "I guess I'm very lucky."

They landed with a hard bump. The rotors had been turned on again, and they were as a helicopter. They jumped from the copter onto the muddy ground, first the pilot and then Relan and Grace.

Grace did a somersault after she landed and then laughed out loud. "I need shower," she declared. Relan wondered at her amazing ability to be happy at such an hour. Perhaps another attribute of the 'original' Grace was that she had a great sense of humor and was extremely spontaneous.

The landing site was surrounded by tents, stretching on for what seemed to be miles. "This is the rebel base?" Relan asked the pilot nervously.

"Yes," the pilot answered curtly. "My job is done here, and your guide will be arriving shortly... ah, here he is!"

A huge behemoth of a man, seven feet tall and packed with muscle, strode up to them. "You're Relan, I presume?" he said. Relan answered in the affirmative.

"Good!" he bellowed and stuck out his hand. Relan took it and shook, and then the giant released it.

"Are you my jail warden?" said Relan.

"No one runs away from here," said the man, "unless you are a pilot and can convince the spacecraft computer to let you fly it."

"I guess I'm never leaving here," Relan said, looking around at the tree-filled mountains to either side of the camp. "At least I can do some hiking."

"I'd love to come," said the hulking man. "Is this your wife?"

"Not yet," smiled Relan. Grace giggled.

"There are so many of you," said the hulking man. "There must be over two thousand. How will I keep you all straight? Luckily for me, though, I only work with two or three of them: my receptionist, my wife and my therapist. You'll be the fourth. I guess I'll be able to pick you out from a crowd of them by the fact that you're just a little bit naive." He winked at her. "Soon enough, though, that'll go away and I'll need to find something else. Perhaps you have a birthmark you'd like to share?"

"Not at this time," said Grace.

"Pardon me, madam, I went too far," said the big man. He motioned for Relan to follow him.

Relan waved goodbye to Grace as he left.

"See you soon, I hope," he said.

"I'll see you," promised Grace. And then they were around a corner and he could see her no more.

They were passing by tents on the left and the right. They walked for what seemed like hours through the camp, so much so that Relan began to realize he had thought the camp was a lot smaller before. And one other thing: "Do you think you could supply me with your name?" he asked the big man walking beside him.

"James," said the man shortly. "I always got made fun of as a kid because my name is so weird-sounding. No one names their kids James anymore except if they're billionaires or trillionaires."

"I thought you had no money," said Relan, thinking back to the conversation he had had before.

"We don't," said James, a little too loudly because Relan shrank from the power of it. All of his hair was standing on end.

"My apologies, friend; my booming voice is too loud for many to stand," said James the giant. "I was talking about my youth.

"You must have been gigantic even then," said Relan.

"Yes, m'lord, I killed my mama coming out of her," James said.

Relan was horrified.

"No, I was just kidding," said the giant. "It was a joke."

Relan just shook his head like a dog shakes its body when coming out of a river.

"Here, this tent," said James finally, holding a tent flap open on the right. They must have walked for most of an hour, and Relan was parched.

"Might you have any water?" he said feebly.

"After you meet your new tent-mates," said James. He motioned for Relan to step inside. Relan did so and immediately saw something extraordinary: the only occupants of the tent were a woman and her two children, which were huddling against her in fear. "She recently lost her husband," James said. "You will act as a father figure to her two children."

Relan didn't know quite what to say. He never had to chaperone any little tykes in his life; the maids and matrons had always

Taken care of them, done their towels and fed them and whatever else was required of such a role.

He had no time to protest as James zipped the tent shut and left.

He glanced at the woman, her arms protectively across her children's' shoulders. "What shall I do, then?" he said.

"Noble," she said, coughing a bit. "You're a noble. I can tell by the way you talk."

"So what?" Relan fired back at her. "Am I not a human being? Would you like me to change the way I talk and act, just for you?" he said insultingly. "I don't think that will happen."

"We have to work together," coughed the woman; she let go of one of her children to cover her mouth.

"You will do whatever they tell you so that you and I and these children have something to eat. If you don't comply you will be relegated to something less pleasant. That's what they did to my husband."

"Oh, my," Relan remarked, "they made it seem like he passed away."

"Not at all," said the woman.

"He really wanted to be a spy. He didn't care about these kids. He became a spy for the rebellion," she said, indicating all around her. " _We_ are the rebellion, at least on this planet. Do you know why we rebel?"

Relan shook his head.

"The Corporation over there?" she said. "Have you seen it? It towers into the sky as if to indicate it has some sort of moral superiority against everything else in this messed-up universe. Have you seen what they do? They create clones! That one blond woman--she can do Engineering, Command, other things... they made thousands like her! Except they always get carried here. That was until"

they started have more security. Somehow they decided that it was cheaper to produce tens of thousands of that versatile woman

than to have to make five clones of one commander and five of another. Fortunately, we've caught hundreds of them to date

and they of course can do anything for us, once their minds are liberated. You see, they think that what they're doing, to survey undocumented planets, is actually good. That's what The Company tells them. But

of course there's the question: where do they make their profit? And the answer is not that their research is somehow paid for by the Galactic Government: it's that they rape the land by pitting one kingdom against another, and then going to collect whatever humanity remains alive and gathering them under their own banner--the banner of the Galactic Government. The United Solar Systems.

Who must have some corruption in it, as they are raping not only this planet but many others as well. Too much of a centralized government, methinks."

Relan was astounded. "You are much more educated than I am, m'lady," he said, and bowed deeply.

"I recognize that a woman I formerly thought of as a friend, whose name was Diana, is really now my enemy. She sought to make me her surrogate in conquering an enemy kingdom, but she didn't teach me anything but one spell, which was a weak defensive shield."

The woman had a sharp intake of breath: "Magic is forbidden!"

"Really? Why? I know quite a few people who practice it," said Relan.

"It is of the enemy! _They_ taught it to us!"

The child that she had taken her hand off of nestled against her pointedly, and the woman put her hand back over him.

"That doesn't mean we can use it against them," said Relan.

"That is for men to figure out," the woman sighed.

"That is quite unusual, my lady," replied Relan. "You put up a strong argument, but yet you let the men fight for you? It must be impossible to bear!"

"I must take care of these two children," she proudly declared. "Let the others do the fighting. I will raise these two to be fighters if this conflict is not over by the time they mature."

"What if you husband comes back and sees me with you?" Relan asked.

"I don't expect him to come back," she said. "What he wants is to die serving his cause. Me and these children don't compute on his radar."

"What are these strange words you utter," said Relan. "They are magic words."

"Sort of," said the woman. "Now go explore the camp, I don't need you right now. Shoo!" and she waved her arms. "Shoo!"

"I feel like a rogue fly," said Relan. He exited the tent. "Wait," he said, sticking his head back in, "How will I find you?"

"My name is Princess," said the woman. "You'll find me."

"Relan," he said, "Nice to meet you," and with that, he zipped the tent closed.

Relan found himself at a loss. All four directions looked the same, yet two of those directions interminably ended with some distant, snow-capped mountains.

Relan decided to head out toward one of those, the one the sun was setting behind. He walked and walked and no one seemed to take any interest in him, but after a few weary miles someone dressed in some sort of

expensive outfit stopped him. "My Lord," said Relan to the man, "I don't mean any disrespect, but please permit me to pass by your station."

"What, to die in the mountains?" sneered the man, who was pointing some kind of black device at Relan's person.

"Yes," admitted Relan. "I had imagined doing that. Now why don't you let me pass through?"

"I thought you wanted to execute yourself against one of these metal, electrified fences," said the warden.

So apparently he had reached the end. "What should I do now?" Relan said, pouting in a gesture of self-pity.

The warden was moved, which was Relan's intention. He came up to Relan and started patting him on the shoulder: "Now, now," he said. "Now, now..."

Relan disabled him quickly and then vaulted onto the roof of one of the buildings. He scrambled to the next building, and then the next, as no one on the ground registered any reaction

. Then he vaulted from the highest peak of the highest building, over the fence and onto the frozen hard grassy ground outside the encampment.

By now he was hearing some shouts. And also some shots. Relan scrambled to his feet and ran like the wind.

An amplified voice reached across the meters toward him: "Stop!" it shouted. "This is a warning! You are safe with us, but the corporation can kill you at any point if you are outside of our base!"

"I don't care!" Relan shouted back. Then the guns started firing.

Relan continued running, running along the grassland toward the snowy mountains to the west. He knew how to survive in the cold but he didn't know how to survive a bullet, so he kept running and running until his will was spent, which meant about a few leagues from the edge of the camp. Then he stopped running and

walked in order to cool down. He continued walking for a few leagues, then came to the border of the forest. He knew that the trees were deceptively tall here, at the base of the mountain. They would continue to get more and more sparse until he reached the mountain's peak. All the mountains were like this, Relan knew, and he counted five that he could see. There was no way back and the only way was to go forward.

He sighed and continued walking. That was when he spotted the mountain lion.

It was very low to sea level, on the edge of its habitat. Or, rather, _his_ habitat: Relan was trained in the art of hunting and surviving outdoors, and he could pick up the signs. That didn't mean he would necessarily survive: that was up to God. Or The Gods, however many there might or might not be.

He still didn't know any magic, so he had to rely on his wits: he didn't know if the defensive bubble Diana taught him would work here,

so he broke off a branch of an evergreen tree and brandished it at the lion. The mountain lion, as cool as ever, simply stared at him from its place at ten meters out. Relan threw the branch at the lion and then grabbed another branch from the same tree.

the mountain lion dodged it with a smirk. Relan thought animals never made facial expressions (well, except dogs)

but he swore that this animal was toying with him as a cat toys with a mouse.

Suddenly it made a few quick steps to its left and then advanced, coming ever so closer to Relan. Nine meters. Eight. Seven. Then it stopped and looked at Relan. Then it roared. Relan threw his other branch at him and broke off a few more. It occurred to him that this approach would probably not work, so he retrieved a flint from his bag and tried to light a very small branch on fire. On the third try it worked, but the mountain lion had already advanced to the point where it was within five meters of Relan. Relan held out the blazing stick, his last hope, and then advanced on the lion.

For a moment it looked like the lion was going to fight him face to face, but then it gave up and ran to a distant spot, coldly watching Relan and his fire pass him and head up the moment. Relan knew what it was thinking: _I'll get you at night when you have no fire and are utterly cold_.

Was it really right to leave The Rebellion? He knew it was fighting for a noble cause, but hemming them in with electric fences (Relan still didn't know what kind of magic that was) was clearly not the answer. The fences were obviously not defensive, as The Company could come and utterly destroy the encampment from the air.

So what purpose did The Rebellion serve? Perhaps as a scapegoat to all The Company's follies? Or perhaps a bad place that The Company would use to threaten its enemies with? Spending the rest of his days in a camp like that would trouble Relan to the extreme. He liked to be active and explore his surroundings, to hunt, to share new experiences with other equals, and not to work himself to death for people he knew to be liars.

And Diana: she worked for The Company, he knew that now. He was The Company's first attempt to draw him in, and the clone Grace was the second. Finally the pilot had rescued him and taken him to the rebellion's headquarters. But The Company had almost snared him twice; Relan knew now that he had a weakness for women. Or perhaps it was an attribute of his sex? He didn't know.

The mountain lion was still following him, about a hundred yards away now. Relan could barely see it through the trees. He trudged on, climbing the mountain, the air getting colder and colder and the trees getting smaller.

The mountain lion kept pace with him, until Relan sensed a slight trembling in the earth. Three wild pigs were running down the mountain with _another_ mountain lion in pursuit. The running mountain lion spared enough time to roar at its cousin as it continued following the pigs down the mountain. Eyeing Relan for one last time, Relan's hunter took leave of him and joined his cousin in the partaking of a much more fatty meal.

Relan scrambled more hastily up the mountain, though he was growing weaker. He scanned his surroundings: now the evergreen trees were scarcely more than five meters tall, and barely protected enough protection from the wind for Relan to sleep. His eyes found a few rabbit holes and mice holes in the frost that was perpetually on the ground. He would have to wait for one of them to come out, and then he would have his dinner.

He stopped climbing then. He was more tired than he had ever been in his life, and the stress of the mountain lion also took its toll. But

He knew he wasn't finished, and was determined to make it around the side of the mountain at least part way before he slept, both for himself and for the likelihood of the mountain lions tracking him. So he sleepwalked, maintaining the same altitude level, for a few hours before he climbed a series of boulders and found he was past this mountain. On the other side? Paradise, he thought. A mixture of grasslands and temperate forests and even some terraced farming... there was more civilization here! Relan wondered why they had never mentioned it at the camp of The Rebellion. To keep people in seemed the right answer.

That was another grievance he added to his list of grievances.

He had no choice now but to rest. There was no water around, so he hunted around for rabbit and mice holes. He took and ate and drank what he had to and no more; it was an affront against the Gods to take more than he needed.

He slept with his back to the wind, against a tree, and the wind was also partially blocked by all of the close-by trees and their branches and leaves. No wonder rabbits and mice and even wolves and mountain lions were able to live up here, he thought. There was good shelter for them. But that left the problem of food. At least, for the herbivore members of that list.

Relan chose not to delve into those mysteries, since too much time dawdling at his present location would lead to death. Not the typical, old-age or diseased death, but a slow-acting chill that takes one by surprise, because once he has detected it it's almost done its full job.

He saw another rabbit scurry away from him and reveled in his own saint-like level of religiosity.

He walked with a renewed vigor as he entered the strange cultivated valley, and beyond, the town. Several farmers looked at him sidewise but no one raised an argument to him walking through their fields; one of them even offered him a job, but Relan declined.

He wanted to return across the world and crush Diana and his brother and everyone else

, which meant pretty much all of the nobles who suspected the truth but went over to his brother to be safe. Everybody.

He strode up to the inn. It was a shabby little place but it had two stories and it claimed to have six rooms. It was lunchtime and people were bustling in and out, and it was hard to find room to shove your way to the counter. Relan finally got there and he ordered: "One water, please."

The burly, mustached man behind the counter growled: "You must buy one beer to have one water," he said.

"I just walked from there," Relan said, pointing his finger behind him. "From the mountain pass. I escaped the electric fence."

The man stared at him. Finally, though, he dusted off a glass and gave him some water. "You must be a brave man

Relan held back his tongue to avoid insulting the big man, who could probably down him with one punch. Instead he said, "I had to best a mountain lion. And I did: two of them. With fire."

The bartender looked doubtful, but then he shrugged.

"I suggest you talk with the mayor," he said. "Town hall's just down there. Just take a left out the door and it'll be on your left in about one minute."

Relan asked the bartender for another cup of water and he grudgingly supplied it. "Now go," he said. "Send my regards to the mayor."

Relan went outside and took a left. Down the sandy dust road people strode this way and that: a salesman pushing his wares, a small fruit market, some women crushing grain and hanging up their laundry.

After those, there was a small town hall--only three stories tall and one room wide. Suddenly the town hall shimmered and disappeared. Relan, knowing that some magic was afoot, turned around cautiously, only to see that all the other buildings had also disappeared. There was one building left, a crude hut made of mud and straw.

A voice was shouting something at him but he couldn't make out the words. The voice was coming from the hut, so Relan slowly but surely made his way there. He knocked on the door.

"Come in!" said a male voice.

Relan opened the door and it took some time for his eyes to get used to the dark. Then he saw the man--it was the bartender! "You, again!" said Relan.

The bartender held up his hands: "No need to be accusatory," he said. "We're all friends here.

I just needed to know that you meant me no harm. So I watched you and I made my determination."

"Some determination," said Relan coolly, going to the other chair in the hut and sitting down gratefully. "Thanks for the water."

"Now that was _not_ changed," laughed the man.

"The only thing, perhaps. But do tell me your name and where you are from!"

"The name's Relan," Relan said, "and you already know where I'm from."

"Yes, the compound," said the man. "But where before that?"

"And I should tell you?" Relan said.

"I'm the nearest water for miles," said the man. "I can't be all _that_ bad."

"You talk strangely," said Relan. "Where are _you_ from?"

"Many light years from here," said the man. "And many eons."

Relan laughed. "I know that in The Government of the Galaxy they have cures for aging if one pays a sufficient price, but that is in the present day. How you could be from the past, where

there were no cures for aging?"

"That you know of," said the man. He stuck out his hand: "I am Gregor," he said. "And you, I presume? You are from one of the kingdoms on the other side of this accursed planet, yes?

Do you come here to destroy me?" The man stood up and spread his arms: "Because I am already destroyed!"

Relan looked up at the man and said nothing.

"Fine," said the sorcerer, "you think I'm crazy. And you've got ample reason; who else would hide out in the middle of nowhere, creating an illusion that there exists a town and settled life?"

"Perhaps you are Diana," said Relan, licking his lips. "I mean, if you are, then please show yourself."

Gregor just stared at him.

"Fine," said Relan. "I have no presumptions about your background; I just need to get across the world so that I can re-conquer my kingdom from my brother."

"You also need to learn magic," said Gregor with a greedy smile.

"Yes," Relan said, "I do. Will you teach me?"

"Even better, I can teach you _right now_ ," declared the man. "You just have to make me one promise."

"Yes?"

"Take me off-world when you go off-world."

"What?" said Relan.

"You heard me. Now promise me."

"I promise, I guess," said Relan. "If I ever do so."

"Oh, you will," said Gregor the Magician. "I can read you like a book."

"That sounds pompous," said Relan.

"Just like you!" said Gregor.

"I could talk to you about this all day," Gregor said, "but since you agreed, I will put the knowledge in your head. Then we will go kill your brother and most of his cabinet. And then you will take me offworld."

"How?" wondered Relan.

"You'll build a spaceship from scratch."

" _What_?"

"You'll know how. Once I give you the magic. Ready? One, two, and--"

Relan thought he was floating inside a bubble filled with air at more than light speed, passing stars and even galaxies and reaching the source of the universe itself.

And then, darkness. Nothingness. And then... there was something. A faint, dim light. Relan collapsed for some unknown reason.

He awoke to Gregor slapping his face and pouring water onto it.

Somehow his surroundings were not the same--everything seemed fuzzy and hazy. Gregor gave him a cup to drink and the drink inside emitted blue and yellow sparks. Relan thought he might be in some sort of hell that the gods had contrived

to trap him in until he heard Gregor's voice: "Don't worry, this is normal," it said in a slow, undulating tone. _What is normal? What?_ Relan wanted to cry out, but couldn't. Fortunately, though, he went back to sleep.

He awoke the same as always, feeling no different than he had yesterday. But as soon as he turned on his side, he retched.

"It's okay, it's okay," said the magician, hastily sweeping the food that had once inhabited Relan's body and depositing it in some unknown location. "I will use your regurgitated food to grow me some nice planties.... 'Plants,' as you would call them..."

He awoke again.

He felt the unconquerable need to belch, so he did it. He felt his mouth suddenly burned and peeling on the inside. He opened his eyes: the tent was ablaze!

"Don't worry, this is also normal," said Gregor. "Belching fire happens to many who are touched by The Gift."

"And this _gift_ ," gasped Relan, for the insides of his mouth were still burning from his own fire.

"Ah, I forgot!" said Gregor. "My apologies. Here:" and he muttered an incantation. "Better?"

Relan simply didn't know how to respond. Was _what_ better? But something felt different, so he tried speaking again: "What is--" he began, and realized that it no longer hurt to talk. "Much better," he whispered.

"Good," he said. "Then we can begin your training. Or lack thereof. You see, I will tell you what to do, and you will do my commands, and in that way you will reconquer your lands and kingdom."

"Can't you come with me?" Relan said.

"I will be the one giving the instructions, not you," Gregor said.

"Fine, what do I do?" groaned Relan.

"You will soon be smiling, my friend," said Gregor. "First: you must transport us back to your kingdom."

"Really?" said Relan. "I'm not sure if I 'learned' that when you were giving me your mind-numbing 'treatment.'"

"Don't knock it until you've tried it," instructed the magician.

"Now, try it. Do as I say. Visualize a place in your castle that you know is empty or off-limits."

Relan did so. "Now what?"

"No talking!" yelled the magician, whose shout was carried for leagues by the dusty wind.

"Now envision yourself there, and then say this spell--"

"Wait, aren't you coming along?" protested Relan.

"No, of course not! I'll stay where it is safe?"

"As you wish, sir," said Relan, his eyes still clamped tightly shut. "Now you were saying about the spell..."

"Say this word," the magician instructed. " _Plaeudy_..."

Relan repeated the nonsense word and suddenly the sky became dark as clouds moved in. Relan opened his eyes just as the first rains came down.

"You tricked me!" he shouted to the winds, because Gregor was nowhere in sight.

"Please, save me! I'm sorry if I offended you!"

No one answered. Then, suddenly, a column of air began to drop from the clouds that were nearest him. _Oh, dear_ , thought Relan somewhat stoically, _here comes the end of this life_. He hoped the tales of the afterlife were true.

The tornado dropped to the ground, becoming whole, and then numerous other tornados also started to drop down.

Relan lay on his back inside the tent and waited for death to come.

_No, you arse!_ came Gregor's cry inside Relan's head. _Get out of the tent or you'll die!_

Relan hastily opened the tent flap and scrambled outside.

_Further, you idiot! Put some distance between you and it!_ came the thought from Gregor.

Relan ran. Toward one of the tornados, of course, as they were now all around him and there was nowhere else to do. _Good!_ came Gregor's thought. _Now just wait_.

Dust whipped itself into Relan's eyes as he waited. For what, he didn't know. One minute passed, then two. Then he saw it: all the tornados were merging into one, giant cyclone.

_That is what we've been waiting for_ , Gregor thought, smugly.

_Why thank you, kind magician,_ thought Relan, not sure if Gregor could hear him. He didn't hear a response.

The tornado edged closer. Then, when it was almost next to Relan, it sprinted at Relan. Relan didn't know what made him do it, but he did it: he ran like the wind.

The tornado seemed to like giving him a head start, for it didn't move until about ten seconds after Relan started running.

Then it slowly gained speed and widened, so that it could prevent Relan from faking one direction and going another.

Finally, it caught up with Relan.

He was sucked into the center, which was a very small center, this being a tornado and not a hurricane. Around him there was dirt, grass and hay, all moving in fast little circles right outside his vantage point.

_Ha_ , came Gregor's thought inside Relan's mind. Then, suddenly, Gregor appeared next to him, sitting on the same chair he sat on inside his hut.

"What are you doing here?" he shouted at Gregor. Gregor pointed to his own head and then to Relan's. _Fine,_ Relan thought. _I'll think: What are you doing here?_

Suddenly all the sound dissipated. "It's a short ride to the other side," Gregor exulted.

"Why is it that we can speak now?" demanded Relan.

"You already know the answer to that question," Gregor said, laughing. "Whoo! This is going to be a _ride_!"

Some of the wind noise came back into their little bubble, by Gregor's hand, or at least that's what Relan assumed.

The two of them slowly rose up into the air.

Relan decided to test the bubble he was in: he put his hand out tentatively to the side of the bubble but his hand was repulsed.

"Nice try," Gregor laughed. "Don't worry, I'm not trying to hurt you."

Relan thought otherwise, and he tried to think of ways to hurt Gregor.

"Nothing you try will ever work," said Gregor. "I was meticulous in preparing myself and this spell. I just needed you to set it off. Don't worry, my friend Relan, I am a good man by most measures."

Somehow this statement didn't reassure Relan. But Relan stopped trying to poke at the bubble, as it was useless.

"There you go," said Gregor. "All better. You see how life is much better when you go with the flow?"

Relan thought of attacking Gregor personally, but then decided against it.

"How long are we going to remain in this tornado before we die?" said Relan.

"You still don't know?" remarked Gregor with a silly laugh. "This is our mode of transportation! Using this tornado, I will take us up into orbit just as a spacecraft would.

Then we will gain a lot of speed in a very short time, as there is no friction from the air up there. It's the most direct mode of transportation!"

Relan sighed and sat down. He could see the distance between him and the ground rapidly growing. Soon, the tops of the clouds were all that he saw. And then, finally, the entire Earth.

"Now we wait a few minutes, and then we go back in," said the magician.

"I apologize," said Relan. "I had no idea it was going to be this lengthy."

"No apology needed," the magician asserted. "Ah... beginning descent..."

The Earth rushed up to meet them as they descended, quite rapidly to Relan's eyes.

Gregor took his hand.

"Excuse me," said Relan as he tried to break out of Gregor's iron-hard grip.

"Wow, the tales really are true," Gregor muttered. "They really do come this stupid."

"I am _not_ stupid," Relan declared as Gregor wrapped something around his own body and Relan's. Suddenly there was screaming air all around, as the bubble was broken.

And then, something hit him in the gut and he threw up again.

"Throwing up a mile up!" remarked Gregor. "I wish I had that skill."

Relan just gagged as they began the slow descent into what should be the opposite side of the road and Relan's home.

They drifted lazily over his castle so Relan decided that Gregor's aim was true. But then an easterly wind began to buffet them. "We're losing our target!" said Relan.

"I _know,_ " retorted Gregor. "I am trying to correct that." He pulled this way and that on an array of ropes.

"It doesn't look like it's working, Gregor," said Relan. "At least, to mine own eyes."

"I think you have bad eyesight," said Gregor,

staring at him for a prolonged period. "Don't worry," he said, "I got this."

"Your speech resembles a fusion between the speaking styles of a peasant and a vagrant," offered Relan.

"Brace yourself," said Gregor, as the ground came rushing up to them. "We'll land in that stand of trees, over there," he said.

"Why?"

"Because everything else is surrounded by water, that's why!" yelled the magician.

"Oh," Relan observed.

The green mass grew and grew until they hit the treetops, their malfunctioning parachute dragging behind them.

Gregor was shouting at him. "You're bleeding!" he said. "Wake up, save your life!"

Relan awoke from his drowsiness. "Ah, what a headache," he sighed.

"You're going to be a lot sadder if you don't take those pine cones and use them to staunch the bleeding, _right now_ ," Gregor said.

Relan looked down: his pants were covered in blood, which was still pumping from his lower right abdomen. "I've always wanted to dissect myself," he said.

"Now is _not_ a good time!"

"I know," Relan said and sighed again. He held a clump of leaves to his wound, but there was no perceptible slowing of the blood.

"Keep it there," urged Gregor. "You're my one hope to getting off this planet. Here, take my shirt," he said, ripping it off and handing it to Relan.

The sun beat down so hard that Relan thought he would pass out. But he didn't. And after a few minutes he stopped bleeding, and made a silent prayer to the gods that they would let him live. And he also thanked Gregor, of course.

"You're welcome!" said Gregor. "Much obliged."

They both made the climb down and then jumped to the ground. Gregor looked around them: "Pretty bleak, isn't it?" he said. "And I don't even know which way is north!"

"I guess we'll have to wait until the evening comes, my friend," Relan said, clapping Gregor on the back.

"But can't we simply kill a bird and look at its entrails?"

"I think the North Star might be a little bit more accurate," Gregor replied.

"I guess I can see where you are coming from," said Relan.

"We need a boat," said Gregor. "I suppose you know how to make one?"

"I suppose I do," said Relan, "But you will have to help me with the more onerous tasks.

Why don't we begin now?"

"You'll just start the bleeding again," said Gregor.

"I see that you have never worked a hard day's work in your life," observed Relan. He began to chop at a tree with the small axe he kept on his lower leg.

"Don't kill yourself."

"Likewise," Relan wheezed, and began to cough.

"I'll go explore the island," Gregor said quickly, and set out away from his companion. He walked for a bit and saw more water on the other side of the island. Then he walked in the other two directions and saw water. He didn't see land anywhere. Finally, he walked back to where Relan was stripping a few different logs into a raft.

"What, no boat?" Gregor said.

"Not enough implements," grunted Relan, which was the first time Gregor had seen him grunt.

"I'm glad you approve," said Relan when informed of this fact.

"I believe I am actually finished." He stood back, inspecting his work. "Good!" he said. "Ready to set sail."

"As soon as we see that star."

"Obviously," Relan retorted.

"You know what, I think I can just make the sky a little darker..." implored Gregor.

"Judging by the job you did on our parachute and our landing at this little isle, I'm sure you will do quite a satisfactory job."

"Why do you idiots always talk so formal?" said Gregor to no one.

"Because we can," Relan said. "Why do you talk like a little child who is perpetually throwing a tantrum? And I thought we already discussed this."

"I know we did," said Gregor, "but I'd like to shoot the breeze with you as a means of passing the time until we get on that accursed raft."

"Why shoot when you can just use magic?"

"We can't really do another tornado," said the magician. "There are no flat areas here on this island, and you saw how accurate those tornados were."

"I thought it was your fault," accused Relan.

"Is that your only trick?" demanded Relan. "Look, I can do _this_ ," he said, creating his defensive bubble spell.

"I can help us with some wind," Gregor admitted. "But I was hoping on saving my powers until I went off-planet."

"To escape brigands?" said Relan.

"Actually, the brigands are here," said the magician.

"What do you mean?" said Relan, towing the raft into the open water.

"Well, while you yourself are quite honorable, my friend, it's the other people who are afraid of me," said Gregor. "They always try and throw stones at me or kill me in other ways, like burning me. Of course, I don't _succumb_ to these diversions..."

Relan's mouth was wide open. He firmly closed it shut once he realized that Gregor was staring at him.

"That's why I have the illusion of a whole town most of the time," the magician said. "It helps with anonymity. And the folks don't hurt me and don't try to. They simply exist, living their lives, just as any flesh and blood creature might do.

But they don't see me. They don't realize I'm there. And they don't touch me: they simply pass through my body. I'm not there to them, even though I can see them. It makes one philosophize somewhat..."

"Stop showing off," affronted Relan.

"And," he continued, " in addition, even though I am not so intelligent in matters of philosophy, having had somewhat of a scratch and go approach to tutor selection when I was a child,

"I do have a suggestion for us."

Gregor looked at him. "Well?" he prompted. "Let's hear it! What is it?"

"Maybe," Relan said, "We could use your town, or whatever you want to call it--"

"Town," said Gregor.

"--and use _them_ to move _us_!"

"Hmmm," said Gregor. "An interesting idea, but how?"

"Well, we could make them pole the raft," Relan suggested, "or even

fight for us. Not that I'm a coward or anything."

"I know you're not a coward, friend," said Gregor. "I knew it from the time I set eyes on you."

"Really?"

"Yes," Gregor said. "You have the sort of haunted look that men get when they lose hope, only to have a little glimmer of purpose to come into their lives."

"Why thank you," Relan said. "Is the idea feasible?"

Gregor scratched his head. "Well," he said finally,

"The core problem is making them real," he said, "instead of mere illusion. In order to change them to act in _this_ world, we would have to make a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice? Really?" Relan said. "Like a sheep or a cow or a goat?"

"More like a human," said Gregor. "You see any other humans around here?"

"We _could_ go to the camp of the Resistance," proffered Relan. "Or, you could summon one of them."

"Ah," said Gregor in a melancholy sigh. "I had thought to use you, but you apparently have a better idea. Here," he said, extending a hand, "join me so we may combine powers."

"It's just a summoning," said Relan.

"Shouldn't that be an easy spell?"

"Easy, yes, but not so very easy over a long distance. How far did you hike? One day? Two? More? It doesn't matter, you'll have to help me no matter what. That place is far away."

Relan joined his hand to Gregor's, and Gregor started muttering some nonsense. "What in the good ten solar systems are you--"

Gregor looked at him furiously. "Now I have to start over again. Please refrain from talking."

He started chattering some nonsense again and Relan turned his eyes to look at the empty desert which rose and fell beyond them. Suddenly a mound of sound began to move. Gregor didn't want to be disturbed, so Relan didn't say anything at first. But then the mound kept growing and growing. He tugged on Gregor's arm. There was no response from Gregor, who kept on chanting the spell incoherently.

Then the sand mound was upon them. Just like a wave at sea it broke onto the fertile land of the mountain, leaving some traces and peculiar designs on the green grass of the forest.

Relan's knees, then torso, then head were completely covered.

He took Gregor's hand and kicked the sand beneath him and windmilled with his one free arm, upward and toward the air.

After a second or so, his feet touched ground. He kept windmilling and dragging Gregor's body onto the dry land, which was in reality green grass.

He put down Gregor's body. He held an ear to Gregor's mouth but there was no moving air.

He was about to use some obscure remedy for this by stuffing some spicy wild grass in Gregor's mouth when Gregor suddenly sneezed. Relan, exuberantly relieved,

hugged the old magician. How did he know he was old? It just came to him that Gregor didn't seem that young.

"Get up," Relan told the magician. "Start the spell so we can summon a person."

Gregor obligingly stood up and surveyed his surroundings.

"Wait a while," he said. "I need to rest."

"Just teach me the spell and _I'll_ do it," said Relan impatiently. "I really want to get back and conquer my brother and hear his screams."

"Fine," Gregor said, handing over a book. It was a small book, with a brown leather casing and a black strap on it.

"This looks mildly foreboding, to tell the truth," Relan stated, staring at the book.

Gregor shrugged. "You asked for it, so I gave it to you. It's on page ninety-seven."

Relan rifled through the pages. "There's nothing written there," he accused. "It's all blank pages."

"That's because it has a password," Gregor said patiently.

"Really?" said Relan. "What is it?"

"Liar," Gregor told him.

"Liar," Relan told the book.

The book suddenly opened, shooting dust into Relan's face. "Ahh," yelped Relan as he tried to shake off all the dust from his eyes.

Gregor was saying something, but Relan couldn't make out what. It appeared that a sandstorm was forming around Relan, something Gregor couldn't escape. But then Relan saw the hand in the sand ahead of him: he latched onto it with his own hand and pulled with all his mind. He received the surprisingly heavy body of Gregor in his arms, and then the sandstorm passed. "Security measure," Gregor grunted, all the while shaking off all the sand that now encompassed his person.

"I'll do the spell, I know it by heart. Give me the book, I'll give it back to you when you start learning magic."

"I thought I already started..." said Relan, faltering. Gregor was motioning something. A gesture saying to come to him.

"What is it?" Relan yelled over the sandstorm.

"Take my hand!" shouted Gregor. "So you can led me your strength!"

Relan did as he was told and

immediately he felt a surge of energy go from him to Gregor. Then Gregor said some words that were silenced by the wind, and then it became eerily quiet.

"What did you do?" said Relan.

"I cancelled out the sandstorm and summoned a human to here," said Gregor.

"Save two birds with one shield."

"Interesting saying," Relan said, trying to wrap his head around it.

"Oh, there's no real logic in the statement, other than that people seem to like it. Ah, here is our visitor."

Relan could hear the prisoner's shriek from half a mile away. It was certainly resonant. It sounded like Relan's little sisters when they tried to have singing contests. Relan felt elated that he would be able to see them again soon, if this all worked out.

The man continued screaming. He appeared to be flying above the forest toward them. Relan pointed this out to Gregor, who shrugged as if nothing had happened. The man flew closer, propelled by some force that Relan couldn't see.

Finally, the man stopped screaming as he saw Relan and the magician. "Please!" he cried. "Save me from this!"

"Where are you from?" prompted Gregor curtly.

The man was still thirty feet up in the air, but he had stopped moving. "What?" he asked.

The man was gently lowered to the ground. "You are part of a magical process," said Gregor. "You will have to stay here for two days with no food and no water, but afterwards you can leave."

"What? _Prison_?" the man cried, drawing his sword. He rushed them but abruptly encountered some invisible wall.

"Sorry," Gregor said. "This is the most humane way I could do it."

"As opposed to..." said the man, still struggling to get past the wall.

Gregor looked at Relan. Relan looked at Gregor. "As opposed to cutting your heart out. That would only take ten minutes--five to cut out your heart and five minutes travel time back to wherever we're going."

"Oh, I recognize that man!" said Relan, startled. "He's one of the Kingsguard!"

"Don't worry," said Gregor thoughtfully. "He won't remember this in the end."

"In the end of _what_?" the Kingsguard shouted.

"Nothing," shouted Gregor back. "Now," he said softly, "grab ahold of this man's energy with me and we'll use it to propel ourselves over to Smyysgard. Or, at least, right near Smyysgard in the forest, where I will teach you magic in preparation for your mission."

"Sounds good," said Relan as the poor Kingsguard was lowered to the ground. Relan joined his will with Gregor's and together they both started to be lifted upward by some invisible force.

The unfortunate man on the ground was sitting inside of an invisible box with his hands over his head. "Only two days!" Relan offered. Gregor smirked.

"You know, I do feel kind of evil doing this," Relan confided to his friend Gregor.

"That's normal," said Gregor with a shrug. "Sooner or later you'll get used to it. And besides, that man supports your brother the usurper, doesn't he?"

"I guess," said Relan doubtfully.

"You're a good man, my Relan," said Gregor, reaching across the void between them to pat Relan on the back.

"No, I'm not," muttered Relan, brushing Gregor's slimy hand from his spine. He was not liking the way things were turning out.

"We're doing this together, are we not, Friend Relan?" Gregor said.

"I'll let you go up in a spaceship," Relan promised, "even as we have agreed. But that is the last thing I will do for you."

Gregor spread his hands in gratitude. "That's all I ever wanted, correct? That's what we agreed."

They passed many a treetop, but they were doing good time and in a few minutes Relan could see the castle and battlements of Smyysgard. "I'll set us about a half a day's march inside the forest," Gregor said. "You will learn magic there from me there for a few days and then we will storm the castle."

Relan coughed a bit: "Uh, Gregory?" he asked.

"Yes, Relan?"

"There's someone who wants to kill me who is hiding in the vary same forest."

"Ah, don't worry about her, I've dealt with her before," said Gregor. "She is a mean-hearted lady whom I hope to never face again. She's after me, too, you know. So we will each be taking half the night's watch in defense of each other, until you have completed your training and we have stormed the castle successfully."

"Accepted," declared Relan, hoping that his decisive tone might have a positive effect on his new partner. If it did, Gregor never showed it.

They both touched ground unmolested. There were no wolves within a good few miles, as Gregor had done some checking when they were both still in the air.

"Fine," Gregor said to Relan's fervent requests. "Here is your first lesson: make the same red laser beams that Diana was able to make. And the lesson is as follows:

First concentrate on the spell, then say the words, and then the red beams of searing light flash from your hands however long you would like. But beware, it is a very draining spell; so don't use it for more than ten seconds or so at a time."

"Agreed," said Relan. He stared at a stand of trees, picking out one tree in particular with two branches extending from its trunk in parallel: he focused on the lower one, which was about four feet off the ground. Straight in Diana's chest was how he liked it. Relan concentrated on the spell, visualizing the red beams coming out from his hands.

Then he said the words the spell required. There was a pause in the universe, as if someone in a position of authority was questioning this act of wizardry: did it really come from such an untrained sorcerer such as Relan himself?

Then it, the universe, began to grudgingly accept Relan's act of sorcery, and branded him a sorcerer. Then dangerous red beams came out of his hands and struck the tree, severing it from the trees and lighting it on fire. Relan focused the beams now on the blazing branch that had fallen to the ground

And the branch burst into ash. Then Relan focused the beams on the second branch, which also detached itself from its trunk in a shower of sparks. "Uh," said Relan, already feeling drained, "Could you please tell me how to stop the spell?"

"Just visualize your own hands, but without any light shooting out of them," Gregor advised.

Relan did so, and thankfully the beams stopped. Gregor waved his hand and water poured from nowhere onto the still-blazing branches,

quenching the fire but releasing large columns of hissing smoke.

"Diana is bound to hear us," Gregor said. "Unless she's ten miles away. Anyone can see that much smoke being released."

"Well, you'd better teach me quickly, then," said Relan, enthusiastic from his success so far and hastily ignoring the fact that he felt as tired as a horse who had run ten miles.

"Fine," said Gregor. "Now you will learn to fly."

Relan shivered. He had always been afraid of heights.

"You don't want to learn that one?" said Gregor. "It's a pretty important one. And you can't ever die by getting pushed off a cliff if you know this spell."

"Fine," snapped Relan. "Teach it to me, quickly, my bones can hear her coming."

Gregor seemed to gaze into the distance, his face slack and devoid of expression. Then he came back to life again and shook his head: "No, she's at least seven miles away."

"Can she fly, too?" Relan asked, looking this way and that for any sign of her coming. "How do you do that farsight spell you just did?"

Gregor squared to face him: "Listen, my friend, I'm just trying to keep you alive..."

"Fine," Relan snapped. "The flying spell it is."

"Alright," said Gregor. "Hold your hands out like so," and he demonstrated. Relan did the same, although it did feel a little strange to follow this man's insane instructions. "Now," said Gregor, "visualize yourself lifting off the ground and say these words: " and he said a formula. Gregor suddenly lifted off the ground and stopped rising to float at about five feet off the ground.

"Fine," Relan growled, more to himself than to the universe or to Gregor. He stuck his hands out in front of himself and visualized himself hovering. Then he said the keywords.

At first nothing happened. Then

his legs, his arms, and then his whole body seemed to become lighter and lighter until suddenly he body rose off the ground, inches at a time. He slowly gained altitude: one foot, two feet, three.

"Alright," he said. "How do I fly?"

Gregor shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he said, "just... fly!"

Relan tried that but nothing happened.

"Your arms need to stay out in front," Gregor said. "And by the way, Diana's here."

Relan held his hands out in front of his body, and suddenly he shot forward. "No, not that direction," he growled, and then put his hands above his head, facing skyward. He rose into the sky at ten feet per second, eclipsing the tallest trees after ten seconds and

shooting into the sky. Then he tried to come down softly at the same location he had risen off of the ground. Surprisingly, he achieved this with minimal failures. "I could get used to this," Relan exulted to his friend once he touched the blessedly solid ground. But his friend was not there any longer. He was faced with Diana instead.

"Long time no talk, hmmm, magic boy?" preened Diana as she attempted to touch Relan's chest. Relan performed the defensive bubble spell and

Diana was instantly transported backward and landed against a tree. "Hmmm, feisty," said Diana, licking her lips and staring with a bad intent into Relan's eyes. "What, you don't love me anymore, cutie?" she said. "What went wrong?"

" _You_ went wrong," Relan said, staring at her with defiance. He rose up in the air and turned around so she could see how he controlled his flight well.

"Oh, a show-off!" Diana shrieked with glee.

"Look, I can fly! But you aren't the only one who can fly," she said.

There was a swishing sound, and then Diana was felled. An enormous arrow stuck out of her chest and blood spurted everywhere. Diana was dead now, Relan knew, as there was no recovering from such an injury. "Gregor, my friend!" shouted Relan. "Couldn't you have waited until we actually started dueling to kill her?"

"Can I get a 'thank you' instead of all your whining?" posed Gregor from a tall branch.

"Thanks," Relan remarked. "Now come down and teach me some more."

"Please," said Gregor. "I'm not your slave, you know."

"Please," repeated Relan.

"Great," said Gregor, floating slowly to the ground. "Let our instruction continue."

Gregor taught Relan for two days.

In those two days he learned more than he could have ever imagined. He soaked up the knowledge like a sponge

and knew that he would be ready to storm the castle when the time came.

"You're much better than I am at this thing," said Gregor, wiping his brow at the end of the second day. "I've just told you the last of what I know. Of course, nothing can replace experience, but I've explained everything as concisely as I could..."

"Don't worry, my friend magician," Relan said, patting his companion on the back.

"Watch it," winced Gregor. "I think I may have sustained some injury."

"Then we can wait, can't we?" said Relan bravely. "What is a few days on the scale of the cosmic universe?"

"No, let's do it now," said Gregor, massaging his shoulder.

"We, or at least I, will be leaving this planet tomorrow. I just can't wait any longer," he said, shivering in anticipation of his great escape. "Let us organize strategy."

"No, let's not," Relan said with a shrug of his shoulder. "I'm as impatient as you are to rid the Earth of my brother's existence."

"How about his supporters?" asked Gregor. "Are you going to kill a few highly-ranked officials, or perhaps the entire country?"

"I haven't worked that one out," Relan admitted.

"Perhaps I will deal with this issue after my conquest."

"That a boy," said Gregor. Relan, not knowing what this meant, stayed silent.

"Now," continued Gregor, "let us walk."

They both took drinks from a local stream, and then, with bellies full, started their trek. The trees shielded them against the brilliantly hot sun while birds sang their songs proudly at the two humans striding through their home. Overall, the atmosphere was festive.

Relan walked along through now-familiar woods and considered himself fortunate for the first time in his life. Of course, he had been in prison for ten years, but he only remembered a few months of that. He had a great friend in Gregor and

he was about to reconquer his kingdom.

They heard the sound of trotting hooves not half a mile away.

"I will begin this," Gregor said, not stopping to ask permission from Relan. "I will be using the 'trip curse.'" They continued walking along and not half a minute later caught sight of the platoon. There were twenty soldiers in the group, and they were likely doing a routine border patrol run.

Gregor finished chanting the curse and then let it go. At first nothing happened, but then all of the horses started trotting progressively slower.

Then all of them fell, one by one, to the suddenly slippery ground, the majority of them crushing their riders. Gregor and Relan walked calmly up to this catastrophe

and stepped over the dead bodies of horse and man like they were mere stones. There was one man who was still alive, but he was paralyzed. "Please, m'lord, make it quick," he told Relan, and Relan made it quick.

They walked on until they heard another patrol. "Likely searching for the one we gutted," whispered Gregor. "Your turn."

Relan chanted the spell and released it when he could see the patrol. As before, all the horses died, but this time there were no men who survived.

"Wow," Relan said. "I surely did not know I could do that."

"You like talking formally, don't you, Relan?" smirked Gregor. "Let's see how you deal with the archers."

They walked for five minutes

and then they caught side of the battlements. "I have an idea," said Gregor. "How about we go and burn every living thing inside of that castle?"

"Sounds like a good idea," Relan said doubtfully.

"Alright, then," said Gregor. "On three we'll do that inferno fire spell I taught you. One... two..."

The fire blasted out from Relan's hands like a waterfall. He had to lean back against a tree to just keep his feeting as the fire poured out from his hands and into the castle and the village within.

The roar of flames was so powerful that he didn't hear any screams. In fact, he didn't hear much for days after that.

After a while, they were done. Gregor protected himself and Gregor with a heat-shield spell as well as an air-purification spell.

Then Gregor showed him the spaceship.

It was a long walk, and it was almost the same direction they had come from. Relan, feeling exhausted, said, "I never knew it would be that easy."

"Don't you feel a hint of remorse?" asked Gregor.

"Not really," Relan said. "I have no kingdom to rule over, now."

"Well, sorry about that," Gregor said.

"Is there a spell where we can go back in time and stop ourselves from destroying my people?"

Gregor scratched his whiskers: "I haven't heard of any that worked," he said. "Ah, here's the ship."

"Why do you need to take me along with you?" demanded Relan. "You could pilot the spacecraft yourself!"

"Do I always have to fight you, Relan?" said Gregory, invoking his partner's name in a sort of non-magical incantation. Then he sighed: "I need you," he said.

"What for?" shouted Relan. "To go destroy some more people?"

"Take a deep breath, for I can kill you, too, Relan," said Gregory. Relan's feeble act of bravery subsided.

"Fine," Relan said. "Why do you need me?"

"You're sort of a science experiment," he said. "Do you know what that means?"

"I have never heard those words before," said Relan.

"Good," Gregor said, rubbing his hands together. "So could you come meet my people? They won't hurt you; they just want to meet you."

"How will we get by The Corporation?" said Relan. "Won't they destroy us?"

"The Corporation isn't the only entity that owns part of this planet," Gregor said, chuckling. They do experiments in sociology while we deal with arms trading."

"Who do you trade the arms to?" Relan asked curiously. "The Corporation?"

"Them, yes," said Gregor, "but also to natives. Like you."

"You have never given me a sword nor a bow," said Relan, but then his eyes came into recognition: " _No_!" he said.

"Yes," said Gregor. "You have just sold yourself into slavery. You are a science experiment. We will have you here for approximately one year, and then we will erase your memory and you can go to a different kingdom, if they accept you."

"Was I-- was I _here_ , before?" Relan stammered.

"A different ship but the same enterprise," Gregor admitted. "Now, we go up to our people!" The straps of the chair Relan was sitting in closed around his wrists and torso. "Goodbye, novel planet," Gregor said, and kissed the Earth goodbye as the spaceship rose into the air."

