Millbank Manor
June 1996
It had been a long day, but a worthwhile one. My studies with Merielle were completed, and she had headed home a short while before. I wished her goodbye, but as I dropped the barriers to let her leave I heard the alarm go off on one of the gates father had so kindly left behind him to amuse me. Cursing the timing, I locked the Shadow back down again, and then ran through my list of mental triggers to work out which one had fired off.
The chapel crypt. Damn. Had Dad finally decided to pay me a visit, or was it some of his bloody Nazi friends? I triggered the spells that would bring both my sword belt and my .38 automatic (a present from Earth Prime) to me, fastened the belt around my waist, and then teleported across the grounds to the church where the de Lacys have been buried since time in memorium (those who have actually died, anyway). I arrived just inside the door, in the dark area beside the shelves where the prayer books are stored, and listened.
In the stillness, I could make out two voices down in the crypt: one male, one female. With some qualms, I drew the .38 and clicked off the safety - shooting someone on consecrated ground is not an activity I go in for as a rule - and then moved cautiously towards the door which led down to the crypt to see if I could hear any more.
The voices were English. The woman sounded fairly young, with the man older.
"At least we haven't come out into gunfire this time," the man's voice said.
"Something had to go right eventually," came the reply. That, I felt, was still open to debate.
"We seem to be in some kind of burial crypt. The names look English at least. Unfamiliar though. I would guess we are in a family tomb," the man commented, "but why would they build a doorway out into here? These damned Amberites don't strike me as the kind who would bother with Christian burial."
Our fame had spread far and wide, it seemed, and whoever these two were, they obviously had a pretty low opinion of us. Still, in a way he had a valid point. The family aren't exactly known for their religious observances - except for the lip service given to the Church of the Unicorn. In that, I suppose, I do differ from the others.
"Come on, Major. Let's head up," the woman replied, "we can figure this out later. Have you left the marker so we can get back here?"
"Yes, but it doesn't seem to be working particularly well. Pity we haven't got some of Barker's people here to do their environment tests."
I heard a chuckle from the woman. "Taking into account just how popular you are with I-Corps, that is probably for the best."
Pause.
"I suppose you have a point."
And then I heard footsteps heading towards the stairway. I decided at that point that I would prefer to keep them just where they were until I was a little more sure of their intentions, so I threw up a shield, then slowly opened the door and threw in a light spell. I saw the pair of them blinking, startled as the darkness was ripped away, and got my first sight of them.
The man looked to be in his early to middle thirties, and was wearing a military uniform - it looked like that of an Earth Prime British Army officer, which surprised me. Odder still was the fact that on first impressions, he reminded me somewhat of my uncle Corwin. I think it was the eyes - his hair being brown, not black. The woman was younger, probably mid-twenties, also with brown hair, and was wearing jeans and a leather biker's jacket. She also had something of the family about her, although it was rather less marked than in the officer.
Adding to the general peculiarity of the pair, was the fact they were both wearing a swords, in addition to handguns and what appeared to be SMGs. While this wouldn't have surprised me on Terra Magica, on Earth they aren't exactly standard issue for active service any more.
"I would appreciate it if you would throw down your weapons," I said to them, the .38 in a position where I could easily shoot either of them if I had to. Still blinking, they looked up towards me, and I saw a worried expression cross the woman's face and a tired, resigned one cross the man's. They looked at each other, and for a moment I had a bad feeling that they were going to try and do something stupid, but then first the officer and then the woman dropped both handguns and SMGs.
"Thank you. Now who are you?" I asked, quietly, "and what are you doing here?"
They glanced at each other again and then the man stepped forward, almost protectively shielding his companion. Lovers maybe? Looking at the way they were acting it was possible.
"William O'Connor, Major, 59743642," he said, his tone flat.
Great. They had fallen into prisoner of war mode. I suppose I could not blame them. After all, I was the one holding the gun, but it was annoying. However, I got the impression that he had been in a similarly untenable position far too often in the past. I looked at the woman, to see if she would be more co-operative, and was disappointed.
"Angel Zymon," was all she said.
"No rank or serial number?"
"Ms. Zymon is a civilian," came O'Connor's reply, his tone suggesting that I should take that into account in my treatment of them. Under the usual rules of engagement he was right. He just didn't seem to have fully realised that the situation was not usual.
"Why are you here?" I asked again.
Silence.
"It would be a lot easier on all of us if you were willing to co-operate," I commented, trying to keep my tone calm, "what is your connection with my father?"
"Who is your father?" O'Connor asked, quietly, causing Zymon to shoot him a worried stare.
"You remember what happened last time?" she hissed, urgently, "why is this man any more likely to believe you."
"Last time?" I said, looking at her, "Have you been here before?"
More silence.
"Look, I consider myself a patient man, but if you do not decide to talk to me, I might well make an exception," I continued, keeping my tone level, "for your information, if it makes any difference, my father is Prince Delwin of Amber."
More looks at each other. "Do you recall a Delwin in the list of Targets," O'Connor said, his tone both curious and concerned.
"No," she replied, "although he..." said looking at me, of course, "..does look like some of the cards."
Like some of the cards? Trumps, most likely. Once again I found myself wondering who on Earth O'Connor and Zymon were. More lost family, it seemed. Probably another of Corwin's bastards, drawn to a second real person in the way that so often seems to happen.
"Are you going to be reasonable, or do I have to get angry?" I said, trying to keep my voice calm, "you are trespassing in my family crypt, having reached here through a gate built by my father. What is your connection to him?"
To my surprise, they seemed to relax. Perhaps a mere charge of trespass was better than they were expecting.
"I have never heard of your father," O'Connor said finally, "although we did arrive through a gate..."
"Major..." Zymon warned, quietly.
"What the Hell have I got to lose by telling him?" came the reply, "he obviously knows about the passageway, and he has to be one of them..."
Passageway? To my certain knowledge, the gate arrived in the equivalent place to the crypt on Earth Prime. Possibly a little tardily, I put up a truth spell, to help me work out whether they were making all of this up, or whether they truly believed it.
"And our orders are to avoid contact with them," she insisted.
"Ms Zymon," I said, politely, "in case you haven't noticed, you have already made contact with me...assuming I count as one of "them". Why not be reasonable? and then we can discuss this with the minimum of unpleasantness."
O'Connor looked at her, and then back at me. "Can we talk about this somewhere a little less... inhospitable?"
"Leave the swords down here, and I'll consider it," I replied. Slowly, the Major unbuckled his sword belt and started to lower it to the ground. Then he changed his move, dropped the belt and reached for the handgun I had made him drop earlier. What surprised me was the speed at which he did it. He was slower than I was, yes, but I got the impression that that was due to inexperience, rather than inability. The man had the potential to be faster than myself in a combat situation.
I fired once, and my bullet sent his weapon skidding across towards the tomb of my great grandfather.
"Don't," I ordered, "stand and raise your hands."
He froze, and then slowly stood up, and lifted his hands.
"Now you," I said to his companion, and she unbuckled and dropped her sword without incident.
"Thank you."
Once they had moved towards me, I stepped back so they could walk past me, and as they did I started going through the process of casting a teleport. It was ready as we stepped out into the churchyard, and I took the three of us up to the house, and landed in the dining room. They looked startled, which gave me the opportunity to make sure the .38 was still trained on them.
"What in the Hell..." the woman protested.
"That isn't your concern," I answered, gesturing to them to sit on two of the chairs beside the long table, "now talk, before one of you gets hurt. Tell me what you know about the passageway."
"It was built by some of you people..." O'Connor began.
"Our people, by your appearance," I commented, "assuming you mean members of the House of Amber. Go on."
He looked at me, his expression one of someone who has just had something confirmed that he wasn't altogether sure he wanted to hear, and then continued.
"There is a gate to it in our home world, and other gates off it lead to other worlds."
"Describe it."
"You should know what it looks like," Zymon said, suspiciously. It was obvious that of the pair she was the more wary, the less willing to talk. Had they always been like this, or had something happened before? It made me remember her earlier comment about "last time".
"Indulge me, Ms Zymon," I answered.
"A narrow street, paved, with high sides - you cannot see the sky. At regular intervals off it are gates like the one by which we reached this place. Most of the people who have been sent to explore them cannot open them, although Angel and I seem to be able to."
"That makes sense, if you are family and it was built by one of us," I answered, noting with interest that at least as far as they realised, they were both telling the truth. I made a mental note to go and check the gate again, to see if there was any sign of the passage between worlds that they were describing, "go on."
He looked at me again. "Target Corwin said something similar," he said, surprised.
"Ah, you have met him as well have you? Perhaps I should call him to tell him you are here," I said, and reached into my pocket with my right hand to get out my Trump deck.
"That won't be necessary," Zymon said, quickly. She looked decidedly uncomfortable at the prospect.
"So how many of the of the family have you met?"
"Targets Corwin, Bleys, Florimel and Benedict," came O'Connor's reply, "and the latter isn't too happy with us."
"Why do you call them Targets?" I continued, curious.
"They are enemies of the state, and need to be stopped," the Major answered.
"And if I might ask, how much success have you had so far?"
A rueful smile crossed Zymon's lips. "Bleys and Florimel told us we were worthless and walked off. Benedict is somewhat annoyed with us as we ruined an operation of his, and we probably owe Corwin our lives."
I nodded, not at all surprised that their people - whoever they were - had been on the losing end. A Shadow dweller, or even a group of them, is at a severe disadvantage against someone with the powers our family have, and even if these two weren't truly Shadow dwellers, they certainly seemed disbelieving when it came to who and what they were. Rather as I was, before Brand finally taught me otherwise.
"My family, especially my elders, can be formidable enemies. Making one out of Benedict - if he decides to take it that way - was a mistake," I said, and from the expressions on their faces they were well aware of it, "what possessed you to explore this passageway? Do you normally launch off into the unknown like this? And come for that, where do you originally hail from? Earth Prime?"
Zymon looked at the Major, and I got the impression that they were trying decide how much to say. Finally, O'Connor seemed to make a decision.
"We come from Earth, yes," he began, "we were originally assigned to investigate a series of strange happenings by the intelligence corps. The trail led us to the passageway, and the passageway leads to many, many different places, if every gate is a world. We have only visited a handful of them."
"Correction. You have blundered into them without any idea of what is there," I said, firmly.
O'Connor shrugged. "I suppose that's what it comes down to."
"You both look smarter than to go on suicide missions."
"Once we were in the project, there was no choice," Zymon answered, "we knew too much. They wouldn't let the Major back onto normal service, and I seem to be stuck with it all, despite being a civilian. They've given me a military rank now, just so they can force me to do what they want. And most of the time, what they seem to want - when we aren't exploring the passageway - is to do medical tests on us, to try and find out what makes us different."
"Nice people you work for," I said, feeling sympathetic for the first time, "which Earth?"
"I don't know what you mean..." she began, but I cut her off.
"That is obviously incorrect as you say you have visited several places. Okay, let's narrow this down slightly. Did your world suffer a violent invasion about six months ago? Organised by a man named Mishu?"
From their blank expressions, I guessed not. So they weren't from Earth Prime. In which case, how did this passageway of theirs link up with Dad's gate? I would have to check before I cut them loose.
"I suppose there will be time to work that out later," I continued, deciding that it could be pursued at my leisure, "I hope that whoever you have left behind won't be too worried when you do not come back this time. I have no intention of opening this Shadow up again for some years."
"You mean we're prisoners here," she said, quietly.
"Not in this house. You have the whole Shadow to play with - the whole of Terra Magica. However, for my own reasons I want my privacy for a while, and that means that any access on and off it will be blocked."
"For how long?" asked O'Connor, his tone understandably suspicious.
"Probably sixteen or seventeen years," I answered, and I saw his face fall.
"You are denying me what is left of the life I know."
"Why?" I asked, "if my guess is right, then it will be just a blink in your lifetime."
He looked at me again, confused, and I got the impression that he still had no idea what I was trying to say. "If your guess is right?" he asked, finally.
"And you are family. If you are, you are immortal. What is twenty years to someone who will live for centuries? Assuming he doesn't do anything stupid, of course."
"And what about me?" Zymon asked, curious.
"The family resemblance is less strong with you, but it is there. I suspect the same applies," I answered, "now I suppose it is time you made up your minds. Are going to stay here and not cause me any trouble, or do I have to finish this now?"
O'Connor looked thoughtful. Zymon seemed to be weighing up options. "To be honest, William, what do you have to go back to?" she said, finally, "after what happened with Sergeant DuBov, the intelligence people are out for your blood: whether they get it through a court martial, or fire a bullet into your back when you're on a mission."
O'Connor shrugged. "I suppose that when we started exploring the passageway, we knew that eventually we wouldn't return."
Zymon nodded.
"Well at least we're still alive," he said finally, looking at me as if trying to work out how long it would stay that way.
"I have no intention of hurting you, as long as you don't try to get back to the passageway and you don't act against me. Hell, from what I saw in the crypt I could probably use you in a project I am working on."
His expression turned stony. "Like what?" he said with distaste, "as some laboratory animal?"
"Yea gods, man!" I exclaimed, frustrated, "what do you think I am?"
"An Amberite," Zymon answered.
"And as I was saying earlier, so, most likely, are the pair of you, and I suspect that in your case at least..." I gestured to O'Connor, "your military skills are well above the average for your home Shadow."
His expression went very strange as I said that, but his only answer was to nod.
"I could use someone who was up there with the family in matters military...assuming you decide to work with me, not against me."
He shrugged. "It would better than rotting in a prison cell."
"For the last time, I don't intend to imprison you...beyond the fact that Terra Magica is inaccessible and cannot be left. It is a whole world, not just a few rooms. However, first I intend to check out your story about this passageway. I shall leave you here for now, and I will have some food sent in for you. I would appreciate it if you didn't try to depart before I return, however, and for the record you will trigger my alarms if you try. "
O'Connor nodded, while Zymon got to her feet and walked over to the window. I left them to it, and stepped outside. I cast a spell which provided the sound of footsteps heading down the corridor, but decided to wait just for a few moments, to see if they were likely to talk to each other.
"What do you think," came Zymon's voice, after a reasonable pause.
"I don't know what to think. If he wasn't one of them I would be inclined to trust him."
"And do we believe him when he says we can't leave?"
"Do we want to leave?" the Major answered, "you were right. I really don't have a lot to go back to. My family would probably miss me, but I think they accepted I might never come back eventually the day I joined the army. You?"
"As you know, I don't really have any family to speak of. So do we co-operate?"
"Within reason. I will not turn traitor against the project, even if you do feel I don't owe them anything, but as long as he doesn't try to make us do that, then I am willing to at least give co-operating a shot."
I didn't hear her answer - it was no more than a murmur. However, feeling somewhat more satisfied I headed back to the church, via the kitchen where I ordered some food for my unsolicited guests. I got back to Saint James's quickly enough, and headed back down into the crypt, gun still in hand just in case.
Zymon's and O'Connor's weapons were where they had left them, so I teleported them up to the studio where they wouldn't be in the way. Then I made my way back to the gate, tucked in between the tombs of my great and great great grandfather. I brought up an investigative spell and looked it over, confirming that it had definitely been opened. Then, despite what I had told my guests, I brought down the barriers and activated the gate. It looked the same as ever, and when I stepped through, I was once more in the crypt of a church on the Worcestershire/Gloucestershire border - but this time on Earth Prime, where I had expected to be.
I checked the area for their passageway, but the was no sign of it. To be fair, I am not sure if I ever really expected to find it. However, as I focused in on locating powers, I found traces of what may have been Shadow manipulation, and recent. I stepped back through the gate onto Terra Magica, and found much the same thing, and cursed the fact that I did not understand how Shadow worked better. The only answer I could think of was that somehow they had been manipulating Shadow, without knowing what they were doing, and that the passageway was their way of rationalising it. In that case, the gate would have been a weak spot that let them pass through.
I did a last sweep of the crypt to make sure there was no other sign of intrusion, then picked up the marker beacon they had left beside the gate and turned it off. That done, I slipped it into my pocket, brought the barriers back up around Terra Magica, and then teleported back to where I had left the interlopers.
"Still here, I see," I commented, as I walked back into the dining room. They were sitting where I had left them, helping themselves to the meal I had ordered for them.
"You didn't leave us a lot of choice," O'Connor answered, the ghost of a smile on his face, "however, at least your cook is better than the one at Chelsea Barracks."
I shrugged, then smiled. "Do you blame me?" I said, quietly, as I sat down opposite them, "I don't expect to get visitors through that particular route. So, have you made your decision?"
"Again, you didn't leave us much of a choice, however we are willing to listen to what you have to say," Zymon said, leaning back in her chair.
"Alright. I propose something like this..."
And we settled down to work out a way of making their enforced exile on Terra Magica mutually beneficial.