Contact and Creation
December SY119, Technocracy Year 0
I was sitting down by the lake, catching up on some paperwork and enjoying the early-December sunshine - it never truly got cold in Sable, despite its mountainous location - when I felt the stirrings of a Trump call. Curious, I scanned through my mental deck and was more than a little surprised at the identity of my caller. With a degree of caution, I opened up the contact and regarded the face before me.
"At least I can still use these things," Andrew said, looking at me through the link, a wry smile on his lips.
He had changed since I'd last seen him. The events leading up to his departure had aged him, and looking at him after so long, it didn't seem as if he'd done anything to limit the effect. His appearance was now of a man in his early-40s, rather than his early-30s, as had been the case before, and there were age lines around his eyes. His face was thinner, more haggard than it had been when last I'd seen him, and his hair was cut in a military style. There was also a harder look in his green eyes than I remembered, as of someone who had seen a lot of struggle and suffering, a lot of combat, or some combination thereof.
"There wasn't any particularly reason why you shouldn't be able to," I answered, feeling surprisingly on edge, given our previous friendship, quite aside from any filial relationship between us, but saw him shrug.
"It's been so long, I wasn't sure," came the reply, "good morning, Robert, or maybe it's afternoon. I'm not sure."
"Afternoon, but who's counting," I replied, "this is a surprise."
"I suppose it will be," he admitted, "although I had a visitor recently, and given that you must have talked to him about coming to find me, I wouldn't have thought it that unexpected."
"Alexander?"
He nodded: "That would be him...seems like a nice lad."
Alexander had talked to me about whether he could find his father when he walked the Pattern, and I had agreed it might be possible, but potentially dangerous. After his departure from the centre of the Pattern he had called me to let me know he was okay, and that he was going to be gone for a while, but I hadn't had any communication from him since.
"He told me various things," Andrew continued, "a lot of which didn't make a great deal of sense, and some of which caused me a lot of sadness. So I thought I ought to find out a little more about some of what he said, by coming to hear it from the horse's mouth, as it were."
"Is he okay?"
"Alex? Yes. I showed him how to use the Pattern and he went off to play," Andrew answered, "why, did you think I'd eaten him or something?"
"Of course not," I retorted.
"So why the question?" came the reply.
"Hell, I don't know, Andrew," I snapped in reply, then immediately regretted it.
"Hey, if you don't want to talk, then I'll depart once more into obscurity," he replied, putting his hands in the air in a gesture of mock surrender, "I have a war to fight anyway."
"I'm sorry...you've rather caught me by surprise," I answered, trying to sound apologetic, "Do you feel like joining me?"
"I guess so," he said, with a shrug, "I can always jump myself back here if I need to."
He extended his hand to me and stepped through the link, and as he arrived, I found myself embracing the prodigal. He seemed surprised, but returned the embrace, before we stepped back, both suddenly a little awkward. It had always been difficult for either of us to show that much emotion towards the other, normally relying on the friendship which had grown up between us in the three hundred plus years we had known each other, rather than specifically father-son intimacy.
"God, I'm glad to see you alive," I said, quietly, and then looked him over. He was in uniform: mid-twentieth century British style, but with the rank insignia of a full general in the Sable forces. It was a rank he was entitled to, given his work with O'Connor in the past, but I'd never known him to use it. And again I was struck by how much he'd aged, and the fact that he moved like one who had been badly injured in the past and was still healing.
He obviously noticed my surprise at his appearance.
"I've been fighting the Reich," he offered, by way of explanation, "they've stretched a long way, and I felt obliged to stop them getting any further."
Gray's agents further in Shadow had mentioned a new Sable-allied commander who had been taking the fight to the enemy a long way out, but it hadn't occurred to me that Andrew was that commander. Sure, he'd fought wars before, but always out of duty: never out of choice. Now, however, I felt I was seeing a new, colder side of him which hadn't been there before. Either everything that had happened with Chesceni had affected him more deeply than I had ever realised, or I'd got something wrong when I restored him.
Andrew looked out at the lake and sighed, and I saw some of the cares melt from his face.
"I've missed this place," he said, quietly, "and you. And the kids."
"You could have come home at any time," I pointed out.
"I know," he answered, "but I had a lot of things I needed to work out, and that meant I wanted time to myself. How are the family?"
"Thriving," I replied, "do you know you're a grandfather?"
He chuckled, and for a moment the smile made him seem younger again.
"I know that Thomas started breeding almost as early as you, but Jack was the only grandchild I was aware of."
"Mer is married now, as are Chris and Francis, and they all have children."
"How long have I been away?"
"Fifty years, give or take."
"That long? And in that time you've gotten back in touch with the rest of the universe?"
"On and off...there was a lot of trouble there a couple of years ago, after I first bowed out with Sable."
"Alex mentioned something," Andrew answered, "you were declared public enemy number one and they thought they'd destroyed you, or something - that's one of the things I couldn't quite figure out from what he said."
"Along those lines," I admitted, "thankfully, I've manage to prove my innocence over that one."
"I'm surprised you had to," he commented, "what with all the Robert the Good bullshit, and the fact that when I was around, you were one of the few family holding the torch for honour and decency. I'd had the impression that that was generally acknowledged. Was Chesceni involved?"
The bitterness in his question startled me...and I realised that he hadn't worked out everything, even if he thought he had.
"In as much as he rounded up the troops to attack what they thought was Sable, yes," I answered, "and very well he did out of it, too. But I'm pretty sure he wasn't the instigator of it. Thus far, however, I've drawn a complete blank trying to work out who that might have been."
"What about Aster? Did she ever come home?"
I shook my head. "I'm afraid that last I heard she was with Delatz."
His face froze, and he turned and looked at me.
"Two enemies out of twelve...not a very good batting average as a father," he said, the hardness back in his features.
"Better than mine," I answered, "at least you weren't used by the Nazis as a breeding stallion."
He flinched back as if I'd hit him, his face blanching, and then I remembered Seska and cursed inwardly.
"I'm sorry, that was unnecessarily crass of me," I said, quickly, "Listen, Andrew, if I were you, I'd think of the ones who care for you and have missed you - and I'm including Dominic in that, by the way - rather than two that do not. Anyway, technically, it's turned out that Chesceni isn't yours anyway."
"Alex said something similar," Andrew answered, "I didn't understand it then, either."
"As you are only too aware, there was a lot of jiggery pokery when Morgaine was carrying the octuplets - otherwise they wouldn't have been octuplets in the first place. And it seems that part of that specifically affected Chesceni, courtesy of Osric. I don't wholly understand it, which worries me given that I'd have put genetics as one of my strong suits, but it seems that he's the reincarnation of one of the founding fathers of Rebma - Tristis - with the DNA to go with it."
"But he walked the Sable Pattern, which means he has to be your descendant."
"From what I've managed to gather, his DNA started off de Lacy, but as he has got older and more powerful it's been overwritten by this underlying Rebman genetic code, which was somehow introduced into him before he was born."
"So he isn't my son?"
"If he ever was, he certainly isn't now," I replied, "my current working theory is that maybe you inherently knew that he was a cuckoo in the nest, hence things between you went from bad to worse."
The number of emotions played rapidly across his fact, including confusion, puzzlement, anger, and eventually traces of relief, as he took in what I had said.
"Alex also told me that Morgaine is dead, and that Chesceni is now a Creator and is somehow ruling Rebma," he said, more quietly, and I nodded. "I presume that the fact that you were accused of killing my wife was also part of the general blackening of your good name?"
He was looking directly at me as he said that, so his eyes met mine.
"Before you wouldn't have needed to ask that," I answered, "you know how much I cared for Morgaine. She was like a daughter to me."
He held my gaze for a moment or two, and then looked towards the lake once more.
"I know. But I needed to hear you say it."
Then his expression changed, and when he spoke again his voice was lighter once more, and he seemed as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "You know, I've been here for a whole ten minutes, and you haven't offered me a drink yet. You haven't gone on the wagon have you?"
"When I own one of the finest distilleries in creation?" I answered, allowing myself to smile almost for the first time since he had come through, "Is that really likely? Come on."
I picked up my papers and we headed back towards the palace. As we crossed the central courtyard to the library, I saw Francis coming the other way, and I registered the surprise on his face at the fact that Andrew was with me. I think it even took him a moment to recognise his father, given how long it had been, but when he did, he looked as if he was about to come towards us. However, I caught his eye and shook my head. Until I was more certain of Andrew's motivations in returning - had even, perhaps, convinced myself that it was my son, given how changed he seemed - the reunions would have to wait. In the end, he nodded, and disappeared back inside, and Andrew and I went through the French windows into the library.
* * * * * *
Over the next fortnight, Andrew stayed in Sable Palace, and had the opportunity to reacquaint himself with his family and meet his grandchildren. From what I could see, the break was doing him good - he seemed less haggard and more his old self, an effect probably helped by the fact that he was out of uniform.
However, it wasn't all pleasure. In addition, he gave myself and Field Marshal O'Connor a full briefing on the state of the war against the Reich in deep Shadow. His reports didn't make particularly comforting listening, although at least it sounded as if our enemies hadn't expanded much beyond the quarter of Shadow which I would have expected them to hold by virtue of the arrangement that had created Delatz in the first place. As Andrew spoke, it became clear that for the vast majority of the time he had been gone, he had been fighting one Reich incursion after another, and that this had honed his military skills to a far sharper level than had ever been the case before, even when he was commander of the Rebman forces. So much so, that I found myself relying on O'Connor to interpret some of the more detailed battle reports for me: compared with your average Shadow being, I was always good at both combat and strategy, but I've always acknowledged that in family terms, I was little more than an amateur.
Then, one evening, I heard a knock on the door of my office.
"Come."
Andrew walked in, poured a pair of drinks from the decanters on the occasional table under the window - whisky for me, cognac for himself - and sat down opposite me, handing me my glass.
"I think I'm pretty much done with bringing you up to speed on the military side," he said, "which given how your eyes were glazing in the last briefing will probably be a great relief to you. But there is something else you should be aware of. In the deepest stretches of Shadow, I've encountered something which may be more along your lines."
I took a drink from my glass and waited for him to continue.
"I've been seeing instability at the further reaches of the areas I've explored."
"Instability in what sense?" I asked.
"Have you ever heard of the Dancing Mountains?"
I thought for a moment. "If I remember my lessons with Brand correctly, they were the area in the centre of Shadow when we only had Amber and Thelbane to contend with. The region was some kind of interference pattern where the Ordered and Chaotic Shadows met, and had pretty permanent Shadow storms."
"That was my understanding from him, also, when he was showing me the ropes. And the descriptions I've heard of them are the closest to what I've seen in my travels, although the region I've encountered seems very technology-heavy. But how can it be possible that that kind of effect is manifesting here? Sable is on its own."
"Not any more," I answered.
"It isn't?"
"Aurellis is here as well."
"What the heck is Aurellis?" he asked, and it occurred to me that there was no way that Andrew could have known about our new neighbour.
"Aurellis is Roland's Creation...we brought it here from the Amber universe about a year and a half ago."
"Roland's Created?" he mused, allowed, "it sounds like anyone whose anyone has been heading down that route."
"It certainly isn't the exclusive club it used to be," I answered, with a wry smile, "I imagine it will come as no surprise to you to hear that Roland chose a Logrus."
"It would explain the Dancing Mountains effect," he answered, "the trouble is, the feeling I was getting in those areas was that the Shadows were in trouble. Now I'll admit that I'm not the Pattern expert you are, but I'm not a complete slouch, and my lasting impression of that region is that down the line - be it decades, centuries or millennia - that area is going to rip itself apart..."
"...Which wouldn't' be healthy for either Sable or Aurellis," I finished for him, "you know, thinking about it, I'm not sure that something similar wasn't originally the case in the Amber universe, hence the creation of the first neutral powers. It doesn't explain the technology aspect, though."
"If you think about it, both you and Roland are from strongly magical backgrounds," he answered, "technology doesn't figure heavily in Sable itself...how about Aurellis?"
"Roman Empire magical with Yorkshire tendencies."
He raised an eyebrow at the description. "Different...but still basically not technologically-based. So perhaps a proportion of the tech Shadows have found themselves forced towards the edges of the systems they were part of."
"It would make sense - although neither Amber nor Thelbane are particularly technological either."
"But Haven is, and Twister was the first neutral, even if that wasn't what was intended when it was built," Andrew pointed out, "and my impression is that Brandenburg and Rolandae tend that way, also."
"How easily can you get me to the area?" I asked, "it sounds as if I need to take a good look at the place."
"I'm surprised you haven't found it before."
I smiled. "You know me. If I end up somewhere I put down roots, which is why I lived in the same house for over 300 years...so I've really only explored about 40% of the Sable Shadows. Dominic has gone further, but even he didn't mention anything like this. However, he has been in Thelbane while we've been locked away here, and if the effect is related to the translation of Aurellis into Sable space - which sounds plausible - then it will have happened since he was travelling there."
"I can Pattern jump us relatively close to it," Andrew answered, "but I wouldn't want to go much further than that blind."
"That should be fine," I answered, "I suggest we leave first thing in the morning."
* * * * * *
We met in the central courtyard at seven the following day, dressed for travelling, complete with packs of food, water and camping gear, and with swords at our belts. Our intention was to pick up horses, or some other appropriate form of transport, when we arrived.
"Ready?" he asked.
"It's been a while since someone else drove me for one of these," I answered, "but yes."
He brought the Pattern to mind, then rested his hand on my shoulder and we transferred: it was very odd not being the one in control of such a transit for once. We arrived in a small copse of trees, a short distance from a main road, and as we watched a car drove past: it seemed a little odd, more futuristic than Earth Prime, for example.
"This place is at the edge of the effect," he commented, "I'd be curious to know what you see."
My distance sense told me that we were almost nine-tenths of the way from Sable itself to the edge of its Shadows. I brought my own Pattern lens to mind, and started scanning, feeling into the very being of the Shadow. Almost immediately I could feel the difference between the nature of this place, and of the worlds closer in to Sable itself. I could also feel what seemed like veins of Chaos shooting through the more Ordered fabric which I would have expected from a Shadow cast by my creation.
"What do you think?" Andrew asked.
"I think you're no slouch at this," I answered, with a smile, echoing his words of the night before, "I'll need to look at the Shadows further, but my initial feeling is akin to yours."
We found ourselves an automobile, rather than horses, as it seemed the more common form of transportation at our point of origin, and started Hellriding (Helldriving?) through the Shadows towards the heart of the area which my son had identified. Initially, the Shadows were highly-populated, and there was a high ambient technology level, and a lower magic level than I was used to. The technology range varied, from early-twentieth century to far future: spaceships, monorails and all. Certainly technology levels that advanced were few and far between closer to home, which seemed to tie in with the theory that the higher-tech worlds had gravitated towards the edges and now the edges had met.
While Andrew drove, I concentrated on getting a feel for the ground we were covering, and the further we pushed towards the core, the larger the veins of Chaos became, the more unstable the territory appeared, and the fewer people we encountered. Out of the corner of my eye, it even seemed that the left and right horizons were moving, although when I turned directly to face them, they seemed as still as ever. After several hours, the car began to cough and splutter, and then finally died, and the lands around us seemed more desolate. Off to the sides I could see signs of vehicles which had crashed or been abandoned. It seemed that the high-tech utopias were falling to dust the closer to the centre we travelled, and the feeling of movement at the limits of vision became more persistent.
We camped overnight in the ruins of what appeared to have once been a power station, under a starless sky. All that bothered us were a small pack of dog-like scavengers, who turned tail when presented with fire which we conjured for the purpose. In the morning, after a longer than expected search, I located some horses - mangy, half-starved animals, but they were all that could be found - and a pair of shotguns, just in case, and we pressed on. Soon, the people were gone and the changes between Shadow boundaries were becoming quicker, more random, with our surroundings virtually changing before our eyes. The only signs of life we were seeing and hearing were strange, twisted creatures out of chaos or nightmare, and occasional birds, crying into the desolation like lost souls.
By afternoon, even they had gone, and we were riding through ruined lands which didn't appear to have been inhabited for decades. Then even the ruins were gone and the scenery was so bleak and desolate that were left with the impression of being the first living creatures ever to see them. Off in the distance we could see boiling storms, and flashes of different climates and environments as the fabric of the Shadows began to break down and the veils were pierced. We could feel the ground tremble and shake beneath us, and around us there was a feeling that the land itself was in flux. Neither Andrew nor I spoke much, as the oppressive atmosphere settled around us. I kept a lens active most of the time, and watched the nature of the worlds as they changed and moved with increasing rapidity.
Then, in the late afternoon, at least from our point of view although it looked like twilight around us, we finally reached a world where both chaos and order were in equal in strength. We were on a high plateau, surrounded on five sides by cliffs of varying heights, an active volcano towering off in the west, spewing flame but far enough away not to be an immediate danger. Storms crashed around us, spooking the horses sufficiently that we had to dismount and hold them, and everywhere there were signs of recent seismic activity, as the power of chaos and the power of order fought each other for control. Despite this, the Shadow veils here still seemed relatively intact, and there was scrubby undergrowth and occasional signs that we weren't the only living beings in that place. This piqued my curiosity, and when I analysed the land using a lens, it became apparent that paradoxically, the fundamental conflict going on there had imbued it with a reality greater than the norm, which physically made it a relatively stable island in the sea of change through which we had been passing.
I found myself a spot with some cover: a ledge, almost a cave, formed from the movements of the rock in the area, but currently stable when I investigated it magically - and noted in passing that magic here was weak but functional. Then I sent my Pattern lens out eastwards through the veil, in Shadow terms, rather than the north-south direction in which we had been travelling (I consider Sable to be at the north of our little universe, and Aurellis the south, although Roland sees it the other way around). As it followed the circumference of the sphere which made up Sable-Aurellis Shadow, I could see that the instability we had witnessed coming in was present in all the Shadows around the central band, and that only a few veils away there were active Shadow storms adding to the flux. But then I traversed further, and realised that equidistant around the circumference were three other points of relative stability, akin to the one on which we were standing.
By the time I had travelled full circle it was dark, and outside I could see that a blizzard had blown up. Andrew had built a fire in the cave mouth and brought the horses into shelter. He handed me a pack of trail rations and a water bottle, both of which I devoured very quickly.
"You were away a long time," he commented.
Now I thought about it, I could feel that he was right - I was more tired than I had been for a long time. I nodded.
"We could do with getting some rest," he continued.
"Hadn't we better keep a guard?"
"You're in no state to - shape-shifter or no, you look exhausted - and after sitting here watching your back for eight hours, neither am I," he replied, a slight trace of ill-temper underlying his tone, "however, I've set wards, so we shouldn't be disturbed." He was quiet for a moment, then added. "Only half an hour ago, it was warm and I could see a pair of moons out there, and about two hours before that it was dawn. This place is pretty screwed up."
"And yet it is more stable than its surroundings," I commented, "You know, I thought I had a decent feel for Sable's Shadows. I would have expected to notice a degree of disturbance this major."
"I had to come out this far to find it," Andrew answered, "and as you said, you haven't travelled this deep."
"It still worries me that this effect could have continued unremarked and unchecked until large swathes of Shadow were destroyed and I finally noticed. Stabilising it and fixing the damage need to happen sooner rather than later."
"Any bright ideas how?" he asked.
"Only one springs to mind," I replied, "but I'm going to need to process the data I've been collecting to make sure, as it's a pretty radical fix and I'm not sure it wouldn't be using a steamroller to crack a nut. I suspect that this particular location could be key to whatever solution I do come up with, though: it's more real than the rest, and there are three others like it that in the interference region which may also be necessary in the solution. I'm going to try to get this place down on paper in the morning."
"I think morning is purely relative here," he answered, with a wry smile, "more accurate would be the first period of light after we awake."
After checking the wards will still in place we bedded down, and I quickly fell into a dreamless sleep - exhaustion had taken its toll.
I'm not sure how much later I awakened, but when I did, I realised I was alone and the fire had died down. I splashed my face and hands with water from one of the bottles, and then headed for the cave mouth. Outside I could see red-gold light, almost like a winter sunset, and the ground was covered in snow. I glanced around and saw Andrew standing over something, about 400 yards away. I crossed over to him, to see that he was looking down at the corpse of a scaled, flying creature, with a large hole where its left eye would have been.
"Shotguns work here," he ventured, as I joined him, "I think that surprises me, as gunpowder is normally one of the first things to go."
"I suspect we can't apply the normal rules for anything here."
"No, probably not," came his reply, "I took a look around myself. This place is almost primal."
"A veritable Rock of Creation," I answered.
"That's not a term I've heard before."
"It's something I heard of from Brand. He was referring to the nature of a place which would be suitable for founding a Great Power upon. They're few and far between - finding one for Sable was one of the harder parts of building it."
"Is that the direction your mind is taking for fixing this?"
"That's where the steamroller comes in," I replied, smiling slightly, "but I'm not leaping to any conclusions until I've been through my observations. It makes me more sure that we need a Trump of this place, though. Any more of those around?" I indicated the corpse.
"There were half a dozen or so wheeling above us earlier, but I haven't seen them for a little while."
"Mind holding the fort while I work? I don't want to risk wasting the light."
"Sure."
I grabbed some breakfast, then cleared the snow from near the cave and settled down on a rock with my back against the cliff above us, putting up a heat shield around myself so I wouldn't freeze. I got out my sketch pad, and started to draw a Trump of the place. It wasn't easy - the interplay of powers made it hard to concentrate, as well as interfering with the drawing of the picture. Off to the side I was aware of Andrew, shotgun in hand looking out for trouble, and around me I could feel the ambient light levels fluctuating, as sometimes happens when clouds scud in front of the sun on a summer's day.
It took me a couple of hours to complete my sketch, by which time the twilight was upon us once more, the snow was but a memory in the balmy spring air, and I realised that my eyes had been compensating for the low light. Under normal circumstances, a sketch like that have taken about twenty minutes. I stood up, inordinately stiff from sitting still for so long, and crossed to where Andrew was waiting.
"Any more trouble?"
"Not really. There are several more of those flying beasties up there," he commented, pointing up into the sky where I could see silhouettes wheeling above us, "but warning shots seem to have dissuaded them from getting too close. However, they've been coming lower as we've lost the light, so if you're done, I'd propose getting the Hell out of here - before they get their courage back."
"Seconded," I answered, and brought to mind my mental Trump of the stables on the landward end of the Sable light bridge. I reached for the bridle of my mount, Andrew did the same, and we transferred through. As we did so, I noticed that the contact was slightly sticky, although whether from distance, the nature of the place we were in, or some combination thereof wasn't entirely clear.
As we arrived in the stable courtyard, and grooms came to take the horses from us, I stood for a few moments breathing in the clean, fresh mountain air. I could feel myself relaxing as the tension of that desolate place flowed away. Then I thanked the grooms, and we set off walking towards the bridge.
"Allow me to thank you for discovering probably the most unpleasant place I've ever been to," I said to Andrew, but my tone was light now we were away from the interference zone.
"You had to know," he answered.
"And I have to fix it. Give me a few days to work out how."
"If you need an outside opinion, I'm down the hall."
"Don't be too surprised if I bear that in mind."
I spent most of the next week in my lab, from dawn to dusk, working through my findings from the trip and the magical and physical notes I had taken, and firming up the Trump sketch I had made. In a controlled environment, I attempted scenario after scenario to try to come up with solution which stabilised the effect we'd seen, but only one possibility seemed to work.
On the evening of the sixth day, I looked up from my papers to see Andrew watching me, perched on the arm of one of the chairs across the room. He handed me a cup of black coffee which I accepted gratefully.
"How long have you been there?" I asked.
"Only about ten minutes," he answered, "I didn't want to disturb you: it's interesting watching you work. You were always more studious than me."
I grunted slightly, and downed half the contents of the cup. It tasted good, and I could feel it reviving my tired body.
"Come to any conclusions?" he continued.
"The steamroller it is," I replied, "We need a Neutral Power...best guess, at the location where you and I ended up, or at one of the three similar ones. In fact, my calculations indicate that one at each of those cardinal points around the central circumference would be the perfect solution, which is potentially possible if the basic Power is built with multiple equal manifestations - the way Sable and Amber are."
"Great," he answered, "and this is a practical solution how, exactly? You can't build a second Power, and neither can Roland."
"But we aren't the only candidates," I replied.
"So you intend to invite someone from the Amber universe to come in and fix your problem?" His tone was sharp, suspicious, "I thought your security paranoia was better than that."
"Actually, I intend to invite you," I answered, looking straight at him.
His first reaction was shocked silence, and his jaw almost literally dropped. It took him several moments to find his voice.
"You're kidding?" he said, finally.
"Why?"
"I don't have the knowledge to do anything like that."
"Why not? You're as good with the Pattern as I was when I redrew Rebma...and when I built Sable."
"But it's not a Pattern we're talking about."
"No, but the principle is the same. Also you've been a sorcerer for almost as long as I have - what's twenty years in four-hundred, after all - which means you have the right mindset. You're also a conjurer - so you're used to building things out of thin air, which is a trick I've only learned recently."
"What about strength of will? You've always far exceeded me in that."
"But as you said yourself, you're no slouch in that department either."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Deadly serious."
"This is insane!"
"Why?" I replied, "you're as qualified to do this as I was...as Jason was...as Roland was...as Piers was."
"What about Jewel initiation? It's not as if you can walk up to Chesceni and borrow the Rebman one again."
"I don't need to," I answered, and crossed to the lab safe. I unlocked it, pulled out an ebony box, fitted its jet key into the lock, removed the contents and tossed it gently to Andrew, who caught it by the chain.
"The Sable Jewel," I said, as he examined the black diamond on the end of the chain.
"How long have you had this?"
"A few years," I answered, "since my studies of my Pattern reached the level where I could manifest it. It should work - it doesn't seem to matter which type of Jewel is used to draw which kind of Power. And initiating you to it shouldn't be difficult: a quick stroll around the Millbank Pattern should suffice, or if you don't want to do that, then I can do it the hard way and take you through it myself."
He let the Jewel spin on its chain in front of him. "You've thought this all through, haven't you?" he commented, finally.
"What else do you think I've been doing for the last week?" I answered.
"Touché," he replied, "I'm going to have to think about this one. Can I give you an answer in the morning?"
"Of course...but I think you'll come to the same conclusion as I did."
And indeed he did.
Despite murmurings that he needed to get back to the front where he was fighting the Reich, Andrew stayed in Sable over Christmas and during that period I attuned him to the Jewel, and we went through what would be needed from a new Neutral Anchor Power if the situation in the interference zone were to be remedied. Not least of these was the fact that it would need to encompass the prevalence of technology in the Shadows bordering the interference: making it purely magic-based could cause more problems again as those worlds were once again displaced. At least my experience helping Piers plan Tango, another Neutral, came in useful.
We also dealt with the standard administration issues, such as the consideration of dark sides, a supply of blood in case we had Hags, the balance and distributions of the Power itself (he opted for one stronger manifestation, on the location we had discovered, with three equal, but slightly weaker reflections of it at the other cardinal points) and what music he should use. His choice of the latter was rather different to mine: the New World Symphony, Holst's Mars, Prokofiev's Montagues and Capulets, a couple of pieces of Handel, the 1812 Overture, Holst's Jupiter and Parry's I Was Glad, to finish. Birth and hope, conflict, majesty, strength in victory and a final foundation of light and unity. His choice to manifest his dark side was the same, however - which I found ironic, given how he had criticised my choice of that path as he spoke of his struggles with the Reich.
The issue of the Hags was the one that concerned me most. Andrew, after all, was a descendent of Brand and his strawberry-blond hair was a trifle too close to red for my comfort. The same consideration had caused me to ask him to absent himself when Sable was created, and had endangered Dominic when I had built Murray. Were they here? Given that their abode was in the Abyss, and the Abyss reached everywhere, I had to factor in the possibility that they were, and their intervention had caused the Twister to become what it was, rather than what had been intended. What surprised me, is that he seemed less concerned about them than I.
We set the date for 1st January, in the one-hundred and twentieth year of the Kingdom of Sable. As a courtesy, we informed Roland of the interference problem, and what we intended to do about it. I think he considered coming along to watch, but in the end decided to send his best wishes for success.
Andrew opted to be accompanied by Dominic, Gray, William and myself. After some argument, he finally conceded the point about the Hags - although I suspect more for Dominic's benefit than his own - and we were escorted by Henri De Lyon, a detachment of the Palace Guard, and a squad of army mages.
At the appointed time, I drew out my Trump of our chosen location and we went through. It was cold and still, and the only noise was the wind. Seismic activity had closed the cave in which we had sheltered since we had been gone, the volcano had subsided, and the corpse of the avian creature was little more than crumbling bones: obviously more time had passed here than in Sable.
William and De Lyon deployed the perimeter and Dominic carried the bags of pre-donated blood a slight distance away from us, while Gray stayed with me. In the meantime, Jewel in hand, Andrew looked around the area deciding on the best place to start.
"I have the strangest sense of déjà vu," Gray commented, with a wry smile.
"Whereas this is the first time I will have actually witnessed this," I answered, "given that the last three times I've been taking the walk. It's going to be very...hang on a moment..."
I broke off as I felt a very powerful incoming Trump call. Only one person was capable of that force of will - a mental strength equal to my own - and I cursed inwardly at his timing. Still, I had little option but to answer, as the last thing I wanted there and then was a mental fight with Rupert Delatz.
"Good morning, Robert," he said as I opened the link and looked at my dark side.
"Rupert," I answered, cautiously, "this isn't the best of times."
"On the contrary, I suspect it's exactly the right time," he answered, pleasantly, "we have a problem, you have a solution, and therefore, I feel honour bound to come and offer my assistance."
"It won't be required."
"Are you sure? Allowing a redhead to do this is always going to be fraught with risks.," he stated simply, "and I feel that my help will be of benefit to this endeavour. And if you suspect my motives, which I'm sure you do as I would were I in your position, bear in mind that it is no more in my interest than in yours to let the instability at the border continue."
He knew what we were doing, why and where. And if he knew the location, then he would be able to join us whether I chose for him to do so or not. I paused for a moment, and then extended my hand to him - as always with the feeling that it is better the devil you know, than the devil you don't.
"Thank you," he said as he arrived. He was dressed simply, in a white shirt and khaki trousers - no sign of military insignia - and wore a sword at his belt. He looked around, taking in who was present.
"General Graham," he said as he saw Gray, "what a delightful surprise."
"Herr Reichsführer," replied my friend, maintaining a poker face that would have made a Vegas gambler proud, given how much he detested Delatz, whom he considered to be the antithesis of everything he believed in and held dear.
"You're looking well, General, although I always feel you need a little more colour in your cheeks."
"And you look much as ever, Herr Reichsführer - a sad, evil man."
Delatz chuckled, and I had the impression that he was satisfied with himself that he had gotten any kind of rise at all out of my friend. About 500ft away, I could see William, Dominic and De Lyon regarding us, and noted that De Lyon quickly snapped new orders to some of his men, while William turned and moved towards us. Andrew, as yet, had not noticed the new arrival, which was probably to the good: he had barely accepted that it was better to have a working relationship with your enemy than leaving him purely to his own devices.
"You're remarkably well informed about what is going on here," I commented to Delatz.
"This disturbance has recently come to my notice, also, and it would appear that you and I have reached the same conclusion as to its cure," he replied, his tone perfectly civil, "of course, the one difference is that you are in a position to enact the remedy, whereas I am not through lack of suitable resources."
I smiled. "That suits me quite well."
"No doubt. The privileges of being the original, rather than merely the reflection," he answered, still maintaining his outward equanimity, but with a harsher bite underlying his voice, "still how do we know that the reflection doesn't remain when the original is away from the mirror?"
I was thinking of a suitable rejoinder when Andrew's voice cut through the landscape. Gray only detested Delatz: fifty years of fighting the Reich at the sharp end had fuelled my son's hatred of him, and that was oh so apparent as he shouted:
"What the fuck is that bastard doing here?"
He started towards us, his hand reaching towards where his sword hilt would have been, had we not thought it wiser to keep a Sable blade away from the site of another creation, until William rested a firm hand on his brother's shoulder. He whispered urgently into Andrew's ear - words which were lost in the wind - and my elder son took stopped in his tracks.
"General de Lacy," Delatz said, turning his regard to Andrew, and a positively vulpine smile on his face, "what a pleasure it is to meet a worthy adversary. You have been causing me a lot of trouble these last few years."
"Obviously not enough," he answered, and he looked at me, "why is he here?"
I walked over to him, leaving Delatz near Gray, and gestured for him to step aside with me.
"He knew what we were about today...either Gray needs to do another sweep of Sable palace, or Delatz found the problem independently and calculated what was required to fix it. The fact that our abilities are so similar would explain why we came to the same conclusion. And given a choice of knowing he's here and keeping an eye on him, or assuming he will be here but not knowing where, I chose the former."
"You aren't proposing to trust him are you?"
"No more than usual, but if this doesn't work, then further down the line he has as much to lose as I do. I think that will help him behave this morning."
"And this afternoon?"
"I'm not his keeper. That was part of the bargain. You will understand after this is done if you manifest your equivalent."
"His being here is giving me second thoughts about that."
"For God's sake be sure that you've decided what you want to do before you start."
He took several deep breaths, then smiled. "Don't worry. I have no particular desire to die today. My decision is made."
"You know where you're starting?
"I do."
"Then I suggest you get to it, before the weather here deteriorates."
I returned to where Gray and Delatz were standing - about five feet apart and eyeing each other in wary silence - and watched as Andrew picked his spot, drew the Jewel from his pocket, put the crystal containing his choice of music in his ear, and started to walk. I noticed Delatz's eyes being drawn to the black diamond, envy in the heart of them. He had no Jewel, and he had no ally of his blood who could have done this, and he was jealous. I made a mental note to be very careful to watch what he did as Andrew finished: I knew how tired I had been at the end of my longest walk, and would certainly not have been able to defend myself from attack.
As Andrew walked, time seemed to stop. Even the wind fell abated, and the sound of our own movements was deadened: as if there was a heavy snow on the ground. Then I heard a screech. It came from the direction of the volcano we had observed on our first visit, and suddenly I saw a large group of winged figures heading towards us, looking exactly like the harpies of legend. It appeared that Sable had Hags after all.
Our guards instantly snapped into action, and I could hear William and De Lyon issuing orders, although the deadening effect meant that I could not tell what they were saying. Still, gunfire began erupting, and swords were being drawn, so obviously they were putting their plan into action. Dominic moved back towards us, to be joined by Gray, whereupon the older man started gesturing, and my impression was that he was acting to defend my grandson. Delatz and I faced each other as the Hags speeded towards us.
"So that is what they look like," he commented.
"Apparently," I answered, as they wheeled closer.
"They strike me as hungry, and...if you'll pardon me saying so...they don't appear to be interested at Andrew's generous pre-packed contribution to their diet."
He was right. By then, some of them were on the ground, looking to engage our soldiers, while others still wheeled above us, much like vultures over a fresh kill. Their attention was on Andrew himself, and Dominic, and my son seemed completely oblivious to them, absorbed as he was in tracing lines and angles in the ground and the air around him. The design certainly wasn't a Pattern...but it was reminiscent of something.
"How ungrateful," I commented.
"Definitely not cricket," he replied, "shall we?"
As one we moved into the fray, adding our magical firepower to the guns and swords of my men. As I approached Andrew - consciously avoiding touching any of the lines he was weaving around him - I saw one of the Hags dive and swipe at him with a claw. He faltered slightly, and I caught my breath, but then she was being thrown back by the power which was surrounding him and he was moving onwards. As I reached the edges of the design, one of the Hags stopped above me in the sky and hovered there, regarding me.
"It seems such a little time since you last came to our attention," she said, her voice cracked and harsh. I presumed she was referring to the building of Murray, about six years before in Sable's timeframe.
"The heart has not grown fonder with the absence," I answered, meeting her eyes, "begone from here and take the tribute that has been left for you."
"But why should we do that? A living meal is so much more tasty, especially one such as he," she answered, gesturing towards Andrew, whose was looking rather more redheaded than normal in the light of his creation.
"A meal is no good to you if you aren't alive to benefit from it," I said, my voice firm, "and believe me when I tell you that if you try to go after him again, I WILL kill you."
She looked at me and hissed, then darted towards Andrew. However, the burst of magic I unleashed towards her threw her off her attack, and she came too close to the nascent Power. It held, and she didn't. She was thrown backwards to land about 50ft away in a twisted, burning heap.
"You can't say I didn't warn you," I commented, as I crossed to her fallen form and finished her off. From the other side of the ever-growing design I heard an explosion, and through the shimmering lines I could just make out Delatz defending against another of the Hags.
As far as I could tell, Andrew was about half finished by then, and I could just hear the opening strains of the New World Symphony as he continued to weave. I extended my arcane senses, and then realised that whatever else he had done, the issue of his dark side was still unresolved.
"Christ, Andrew," I shouted towards him at the top of my voice, "you need to deal with the darkness. Now, before it's too late!"
There was no obvious response, and I looked at him, hoping to Hell that my message had got through. There was nothing more I could do. I waited for a couple of minutes, but nothing seemed to change, and then I brought myself back to the here and now get abreast of the military situation. Half a dozen of our men were down, as was two other Hags, and off to one side I could see Gray and Dominic holding off another attacker. I moved in that direction, and quickly another of the opposition was hovering above me. This one was larger, wearing what I guessed were marks of rank.
"Robert of Sable...what an unpleasant surprise."
"The feeling is mutual, I assure you. Do you command?"
"I do."
"Then I suggest you heed my words when I tell you to take your tribute and go, if you wish to leave this place alive." I answered, gesturing at the ongoing fighting.
She glanced at her fallen sisters, then back at me. She weighed up her options for almost a minute, before replying: "I choose to listen to you on this occasion. Next time, who knows?"
She cried out in a language I didn't understand, and she and her sisters broke off contact with my men and fell on the bagged blood to the side. I moved closer, until I was in the front rank of those watching their actions, although the sight of what they were doing sickened me.
Finally, she stood and looked at me once more, blood running from the corner of her mouth, then chuckled.
"The real thing would have tasted so much sweeter."
"You would not lived to find out."
"Until the next time, Robert of Sable," she said and then leaped into the air and streaked away, her sisters following after her until their cries were gone and the stillness had returned, now underlain by a persistent hum.
I looked back towards Andrew, noting that the design was nearing completion. Once again I extended my senses, and to my relief, I could feel the telltale traces that his dark side has been split out. Around me, I could see that the open plateau was gone, and we were now inside a large cavern, surrounded by pillars and lit by a fluorescent glow in addition to the illumination of the Power itself.
And then I realised that I had lost track of my counterpart. I cursed, and began to look for him, both physically and magically. Of course, he knew that that was what I would do, and had concealed himself accordingly.
"Problem, Robert?" Gray asked, as he saw my concern.
"Not if I'm lucky. Where did you last see Delatz?"
"The other side of where Andrew is working, when he took out that Hag."
"Me too," I replied, and we moved in that direction. However, it was not until Andrew was taking his final steps, and sinking to his knees, that I located my quarry. I think proximity to the new Power had revealed him, but he was almost upon my son when I saw him, his expression one of glee. He reached towards the Jewel in Andrew's hand, and I began to sprint towards them. However, one of Delatz's flaws, like mine, is that he isn't the fastest warrior in the world, and tired as he was, Andrew had him beat. I saw him gesture, almost as if drawing a sword, and there was a flash which knocked Delatz sprawling.
I reached him as he was getting to his feet, and landed a roundhouse punch on his chin. He sat back down and looked up at me, rubbing his jaw. There was a flash of anger in his eyes, and then it subsided, and he offered me his hand to help him up. I grabbed it hard and pulled him, dredging up from my mind some long-ago learned unarmed combat skills which guaranteed that while he was upright, he would have to take a moment or two to get his balance, which gave me time to get out of direct contact. Then, to my surprise, he smiled.
"Well, you can't fault me for trying."
"Try again, and I won't be using my fist to stop you," I answered.
He shrugged, in the maddening way he did when conceding a point, which left you with the feeling that he had won it after all.
"Well, at least I got something out of this deal."
"Really?"
"Oh yes," he answered, showing all the signs of great contentment, which worried the Hell out of me.
I crossed over to my son and helped him to his feet: his movements were slow and heavy, but at least he was conscious. "It's done," he said, exhaustion evident in his voice, "but by God it was hard."
"You had me worried in the middle there. Did you realise the Hags were here?"
"Around the time one of them tried to eat me, yes. Thankfully the Nexus helped me to repel their advances."
"The Nexus...that is what you're calling it?"
"That is what it calls itself," he answered, and as I looked at it, I realised what it reminded me of: a high tech computer core. It appeared that he had most definitely embraced the higher tech Shadows as he had woven his design, and I was looking at a scene out of the pages of a Gibsonesque cyber novel. Then he handed me the Jewel.
"You'd better have this back, before laughing boy over there takes another grab at it."
I took it, but as I pocketed it, and gave my son a congratulatory slap on the back, I heard a slow handclap.
"How very touching," came a half familiar voice, and I looked over to see another figure emerging from the final lines of the Nexus. However, unlike Andrew, who was ready to drop, this one looked as if he had just woken from a good night's sleep. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, and stood maybe a couple of inches shorter than me, although he was more solidly built. His face was hard, angular, and was framed with crew-cut dark hair. His eyes were as cold and bleak as the North Sea in winter. Then, as I looked again at his face, I saw the resemblance. Andrew saw it too, drew himself up straight and moved towards the newcomer.
"For a moment there, Andy, I thought you were going to forget all about me. I would have enjoyed that, but sadly you remembered."
"Do you have a name?" Andrew asked.
"I think that for all intents and purposes, you can call me Andreas," came the answer, "Andreas Delatz."
I turned towards Rupert and saw the satisfied expression on his face.
"Who else could it have been?" he asked me, and then gestured for Andreas to join him. The younger man looked once more at Andrew, and once more at me.
"I'm sure that we will be running into each other again," he said, "especially you, Andy. I'll look forward to it."
And then he crossed to Delatz, and they were both gone.
"Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn," Andrew cursed as they departed, "and he's right, too. I nearly didn't bring him out, and I'm not sure that when I finally did, I did it cleanly. Christ knows if it'll be possible to deal with him - my first impression is of a barely civilised savage."
"We can worry about that another time," I answered, "right now, though, you need to rest and recuperate. Have you built any accommodation here?"
"There's a living complex above us," he answered, "will you let me do the honours?"
And with some effort, he brought to mind his new creation, and transported all of us up into the futuristic steel and glass palace he had built.