The Last Protector (39 page)

A few more tears fell from his eyes. “I tell myself there must be a better way. I resolve with all my heart to find it—and the next thing I know I'm surrounded by bodies.” His voice fell to a whisper. “Some day, somehow, I'm going to slip, or drop my sword, and it will be over. That's how it's going to end; that's the only way it can.” He lost the battle to hold back the tears. “Forgive me, please forgive me! Oh, Lord, I am so tired of killing!” He buried his face in his hands and wept, shuddered and howled like a wounded animal, as a three-year parade of slaughter passed before his tightly closed eyes. Was any of it justified?

In time he stopped shaking, began to breathe more slowly and steadily, wiped his eyes, and in a voice far too old and weary to be coming from that skinny young face he said, “Well, let's get going. There's a world to save.” The words seemed like a mantra, or perhaps a prayer.
There's a world to save.
He stood unsteadily and gazed at the frozen lake. It was still a brilliant blue-white, the cliffs of the crater still stood majestically in the distance, and the sun still shone down from a perfect blue sky.
There's a world to save.
A good world, a beautiful world, a world well worth saving. He blinked at the sight, as if waking from a bad dream, and smiled.
There's a world to save.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and feeling like he wanted to run. “Let's wake up Jape!” He sniffled loudly. “I hope he's got a handkerchief."

"I heard you singing,” Jape said as Scrornuck and Nalia returned. “At least, I think you were singing. Or else some animal was in great pain."

"Singing's as good a word as any, I suppose.” Scrornuck sniffed a slice of cooked wolf-meat he found on the flat-topped stone they'd used as their dinner table. It still smelled okay, so he skewered several pieces on his sword and started warming them up over the remains of the campfire.

Jape spread out the softscroll. “Well, let's see what's new. This is good: they've begun to decode the McGinn files."

"Anything important?” Scrornuck took a slice from his shish-kabob and handed another to Nalia.

Jape scanned the report. “Hmm—seems the guy worked under two names. They found the employment record for a guy named ‘B.P. McGinn,’ and suspect his full name was Brian Paul. There's a whole bunch of stuff under the name ‘Brian McGinn,’ then a couple years’ worth of silence, then ‘Paul McGinn’ turns up. I wonder if he got into trouble and started going by his middle name."

"You guys have too many names,” Nalia said.

"Sometimes we need all the names we can get.” Jape scrolled to the next page and raised his eyebrows. “O-
ho,
look at that: the last thing associated with the name
Brian
McGinn was a ride simulator project called technolepathy."

Scrornuck stopped chewing. “I remember that word."

Jape nodded. “We found that record last Sunday. Looks like technolepathy cost UniFlag some big money. Well, that might explain the sudden name change.” He quickly tapped some buttons. “Crypto Team Code One with a platinum chaser; we should know in a day or two.” He pushed the final button. “Let's see, what else is there?” He methodically worked his way through screen after screen. “Wish I had some coffee. Shame we only brought the one package."

Scrornuck spat. “You should have saved it for yourself."

"I'll survive.” Jape's eyes suddenly brightened. “Look at this:
Records indicate McGinn did not return to the Home time stream when the Grand Taupeaquaah project was abandoned, and UniFlag executives declined to launch a search for him.
Wow, he must have
really
pissed somebody off!"

"What do they mean, ‘the Grand Taupeaquaah project was abandoned'?” Nalia asked.

Jape went silent, for quite a long time, and Scrornuck got a strong feeling the Ranger had said more than he intended to. Finally, with a sigh, he spoke. “I've already told you how my people brought thousands of worlds into existence.” She nodded. “Some, including this one, were themeworlds, created to provide recreation and entertainment for Guests from my world. The first was DisWarner's Safari World, where people could visit the wide-open spaces of ancient Africa. It was a huge success, and soon a dozen companies, including UniFlag, were building worlds that were even more spectacular and luxurious.

"Then disaster struck: the streams of time crossed for the first time. Nobody saw it coming, and there were no Rangers to defuse the paradoxes. Safari World was utterly destroyed. A quarter million people died in the blink of an eye.” He shuddered ever so slightly.

"That's awful,” Nalia said, “But what's it got to do with Taupeaquaah?"

"When two hundred thousand Guests died in the Safari World stream crossing, it was the end of the themeworld business. Nobody wanted to take the risk of visiting or working in a world that could be destroyed overnight. Within two weeks, the operating themeworlds were evacuated and shut down. Construction crews in the unfinished worlds—including this one—simply packed up and left."

"Spafu's Helpers,” she said thoughtfully. “The scrolls say they'll be coming back, and the Guests will come with them. A thousand at a time, in the plaza around the Horn.” A small tear formed in her eye as she made the connection. “They're not coming, are they?"

Jape shook his head. “I'm afraid not. UniFlag's big Traveler, the one that was supposed to bring Guests from my world to yours, was dismantled many years ago. All that's left on the spot is a little park with a historic marker."

"No Guests, ever.” The tear ran down her cheek. “And they didn't even tell us."

Scrornuck put an arm around her and gently wiped the tear from her eye. “At least we came."

She smiled slightly. “Yeah. At least you came.” She laughed, a bitter laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “I guess I'm lucky—I got to meet the only real Guests we'll ever have."

Scrornuck decided it was time to change the subject. “What else was in the message?"

"Something about McGinn's residences—the two we knew about, and also something called the Darklord Castle Ride Complex."

"The Captain said the Orb was at a place called Darklord Castle,” Nalia said.

Jape nodded and scanned the remainder of the file. “There's no reference to where it is. Nalia, do your people have any stories about castles?"

"None that I've heard."

Jape stabbed several buttons and sighed. “We'll put the crypto teams on this, but I hate waiting."

"We should be able to find it,” Scrornuck said. “You can't just hide a castle."

"No, you can't hide something that big...” Jape stopped, his bottomless blue eyes staring to the northwest as though peering right through the mountain. Suddenly he stabbed at the softscroll's buttons, calling up the map. “Unless you've got something really big to hide it behind!” He stuck his finger down with finality. “It's there. It's got to be."

Nalia looked at the map. “The Perpetual Storm?"

Jape nodded. “You said that storm's been there since the beginning of time. Natural storms don't last that long—it's got to be artificial. And UniFlag wouldn't build an artificial dust storm unless it was part of a big attraction.” He pointed to the hourglass shape that indicated the purple ring's measurements. “Look at this. I thought it was a phasing problem, because it points away from the light in the tower. But really, it was pointing right at the dust storm.” He smiled, the satisfied smile of one who'd just cracked a hard problem. “That's where the Orb is."

Scrornuck's train of thought was on a different track. “Darklord Castle
Ride Complex?"

"Don't get your hopes up,” Jape warned. “The rides might not have been installed, and even if they were, they probably won't work after all this time.” His voice trailed off. “Rides?” He called up an earlier report. “Technolepathy was a ride simulator? By McGinn's time everybody knew they didn't work..."

Scrornuck was perplexed. He knew and loved amusement-park rides, but ... “A ride simulator? What the heck is that?"

"Have a seat,” Jape said, patting a flat-topped stone. “I'll show you.” He formed the softscroll into a rigid semicircle and placed it in front of Scrornuck's face. “Now watch closely and hang on tight."

The scroll lit up, showing a panorama of sky, ground, and rapid movement, as if Scrornuck were flying. He quickly discovered that by leaning forward, back and to the sides he could guide his virtual airplane through turns, rolls and loops. With a whoop of delight, he “flew” through faster, tighter aerobatics, until he finally lost his balance, fell off the stone and sent the scroll skittering across the gravel. “Wow!” he cried, “I want to do it again!"

"I don't get it,” Nalia said. She had been kneeling behind Scrornuck, looking over his shoulder with an increasingly puzzled expression. “It was just a picture."

"What do you mean, just a picture? It was
real!"

"To you,” Jape said. “But not to Nalia, or to me; we just see it as a picture on a screen. A couple hundred years ago, simulators were a big thing in my world. People used them for everything from training to games to virtual tourism. But over the next few generations, people lost the ability to see simulations as real. By the time McGinn worked at UniFlag, ride simulators had been a dead issue for twenty years. It's odd that he was working on one.” He glanced at his watch and stuck the scroll into his cape. “We should be on our way."

They marched down to the beach, where Jape looked carefully into the distance and pointed to a barely visible boulder on the far side of the ice. “Our gear is by that rock.” He scanned the lake's surface until he spotted an ice-grooming machine a few hundred feet away. “Mister Saughblade, can you mess up the ice a bit?"

Kicking some pebbles and sand ahead for traction, Scrornuck carefully walked about twenty feet from shore and hacked a few random holes in the ice.

"That's enough!” Jape called. “Our ride's coming!” Scrornuck followed Jape's pointing arm and saw that the ice-grooming machine was moving purposefully toward him. Jape led Nalia onto the lake and the two danced in circles around the machine, baiting their prey like a pair of bullfighters. The little wheeled box veered and spun, trying to keep away from them, but eventually Nalia got squarely in its path and jammed her short sword into the ice, blocking the machine's movement. As it sat, wheels spinning helplessly, Jape pressed his softscroll against its backside. The scroll stuck in place, and the machine became docile and cooperative.

"Saddle up,” Jape called, patting the top of the little box.

Scrornuck plopped himself on top of the machine, being careful to sweep his kilt underneath him before sitting. Even insulated by the kilt, the machine's metal case was freezing. “I hope this thing moves fast,” he said.

"Fast enough,” Jape said. He and Nalia took hold of the machine and linked arms. “Softscroll, full speed ahead!” he commanded, and the three set off for the far shore at a sedate three miles an hour.

Ten minutes later, they were there. “Hello, old friend,” Scrornuck said, pulling his armored jacket from the pack and slipping into it. He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the tape pulling on his wounds, and gave the jacket a big hug. “I am never going
anywhere
without you again!"

Jape looked up at the crater wall. “We're not going anywhere, period, until we find another way out of here. You're in no shape to climb this trail."

"Sure I am,” Scrornuck protested—and promptly tripped over a small rock, falling painfully onto the sand. “Well, maybe not."

As Jape scanned the cliffs for an alternative way up, Scrornuck found the cooler. There were three beers left. Feeling a thirst that the water taps on the island hadn't satisfied, he opened one and sucked it down in a few big gulps.

"Let's have a look at this leg,” Nalia said as he opened the second beer. He winced as she yanked off a strip of tape and squirted a fresh load of antiseptic goo into his wounds.

Jape returned just as Scrornuck opened the third pint. “Isn't it a little early to be hitting the bottle, Mister Saughblade?"

His thirst finally abating, Scrornuck watched the beer's head settle. “The way things have been going, it's never too early."

Jape shrugged. “Well, finish that and let's get going. There must be a lake-level exit; there's no way they'd bring Guests down a trail as treacherous as the one we took. We just have to find it."

Scrornuck hopped briskly to his feet, almost as if he was uninjured.

"Feeling better?” Jape said.

"Good as new, almost.” He hoisted the pack with one hand and plopped it into his lap as he took his seat atop the ice-grooming machine.

"Now that's
some
beer,” Jape said.

Pulled by the ice-grooming machine, they went around the island to the lake's far shore. There, they found an enormous statue of Spafu carved from the cliff face. “So we're going in the lizard's mouth,” Scrornuck said as they climbed the steps that led to the Dragon's head. “Does that mean we'll come out his ass?"

"I hope not,” Jape said. “I don't want to pass through his entire digestive system.” The steps led them between a pair of fangs the height of a man and into the shadows beyond. Just past the thing that dangled from the roof of the Dragon's mouth, they came to a temporary wall. Jape read the notices stapled to the plywood. “Minimum wage rules, overtime pay, vacation, sexual harassment policy.” He touched one of the papers. It crumbled to dust.

A door hung open, about eight feet square, with fragments of wood around its broken latch. As they stepped through into darkness, Jape held out his hand and a ball of light appeared.

"All
right!"
Scrornuck gazed with unconcealed excitement at the neatly parked line of immense yellow earthmovers. “This is our ticket out of here!” He climbed awkwardly into the cockpit of the biggest machine.

Jape was less excited. “This thing's a hundred years old—what makes you think it'll run?"

"UniFlag built stuff to last, remember?” Scrornuck reached under the driver's seat, finding a small toolbox and the remains of a T-shirt bearing a construction company's logo and the words
Alpine Lake Winter Sports Complex—On Time, Under Budget.
“C'mon, let's see if it'll start!"