The Last Protector (61 page)

"We need to clean this up,” the Captain said. Though she leaned on a cane for support and sported a large white bandage around her abdomen, she insisted on carrying out her duties. “You, you and you,” she said, pointing at three Guards, “get some crews organized.” The Guards saluted crisply and departed to round up laborers. “What a mess,” she muttered, looking at the debris filling the streets alongside the Temple foundation. “It'll take a week to clean this up."

"How will we eat in the meantime?” Rosaiah asked nervously.

"What about the trading posts?” Nalia suggested. “They have their own machines for receiving Gifts."

"Hardly enough to feed the city,” Jape said, “but it could help take the edge off. We'll need a way to get the stuff here..."

"The skimmer,” Scrornuck said. “I think I can make it run a little longer."

Thus the plan came together. Scrornuck spent the morning repairing the skimmer they had left at the West Gate, replacing burnt wiring and patching coolant leaks, and several former Squatters lashed baskets to the side of the vehicle, increasing its capacity. The repairs were done by early afternoon, and with the Captain at the controls, the vehicle lifted off and headed west. Over Scrornuck's mild objections, Jape went along, saying he needed the Captain's testimony to finish his report to Ranger Control.

Meanwhile, work crews led by the Guards began a round-the-clock effort to remove the rubble of the Temple and uncover the Gift Doors. Shortly before sunset, a ragged cheer went up as fifty laborers successfully lifted a twisted steel roof truss, walked it down to the center of the Square and leaned it against one of the monorail-support towers. The final disposal of the truss was still uncertain—it was far too big to carry through the Cast Quarter to the West Gate, and nobody in town had tools capable of cutting the steel—but it was off the Temple platform. The leader of the crew, his face covered with sweat and grime, grinned broadly. “One down, thirty to go!"

A few minutes later, as the sky turned the gorgeous purple-and-red of a perfect Taupeaquaahn sunset, a larger cheer went up, beginning at the West Gate, spreading through the Cast Quarter, and finally reaching the Square, as Jape carefully brought the skimmer to a halt. It was loaded to capacity with foodstuffs—hardly enough to feed the City, but enough to maintain peace and confidence for another day.

"Where's the Captain?” Scrornuck asked. Jape had returned alone.

The Ranger just smiled. “That's a surprise."

"No matter how much you lift,” Nalia said, as she and Scrornuck walked across Temple Square Tuesday afternoon, “I don't think you're going to grow big shoulders by Saturday."

He laughed. “It can't hurt.” He'd spent the morning lifting and carrying beams and chunks of imitation stone from the ruins of the Temple. The leader of the crew clearing the site had committed to having the debris removed, the Gift Doors exposed, and the floor available for ceremonies and dancing in time for Saturday's planned wedding. As the groom, Scrornuck felt obliged to pitch in. And, though he knew Nalia was right, he still hoped the hard work might bulk him up a little. The Captain's tale of his exploits at Darklord Castle (which continued to grow in the telling, as the spinning of yarns experienced an overdue rebirth) had turned him into a World-Saving Hero, and he wanted to look the part.

The wedding promised to be the biggest party in Taupeaquaah's history. Scrornuck was more than a hero; he was an honest-to-goodness Guest, and his marriage to a Local Girl Made Good would be the social event of all time. There was much to arrange: food, liquid refreshments, entertainment, and speeches by the local dignitaries, all of whom wanted to say a few (and probably many) words.

And, of course, there was the issue of wedding attire, which brought them to a little shop on the west side of the Square. Nalia had arranged her gown in the morning, while Scrornuck was working at the Temple site. Now it was his turn, and things were not going well.

"I'll be honest with you,” the tailor said, returning from the back room carrying a long, loose, frilly shirt on a hanger. “You're a challenge. First there's the skirt..."

"Kilt,” Scrornuck said, automatically.

"Whatever you call it. Then there's this blanket.” He held up the big plaid, scrupulously cleaned and repaired.

"It's an important tradition to my people."

"And I'll find a way to work it in. But this...” He held up the shirt and squeezed one heavily-padded shoulder. “The real problem is your hangup about big shoulders."

"I don't want to look like a skinny kid,” Scrornuck insisted.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're tall, and unlike me, you're slender.” He slapped Scrornuck's flat-as-Kansas stomach and then lightly tapped his own generous belly. “You're all arms and legs. These are your strengths, and your clothes ought to play to them. Trying to be somebody else just won't work. Let me show you.” He took the shirt from the hanger. “Try this on.” Scrornuck complied, removing his shirt and slipping into the padded item. “Now look at yourself. You don't look like a hero, you look like a lollipop."

Scrornuck stared into the mirror. As much as he hated to admit it, the big shirt didn't make him look heroic; it just made him look top-heavy and a little silly. He sighed. “Now what?"

"Let me work with your strengths. Trust me—I can make you look so good you'll be fighting the women off!"

"Hey!” Nalia said with a laugh. “I'm not sure I want him looking
that
good!"

Scrornuck laughed too, and slowly removed the big-shouldered shirt. “Okay. Do what you think works."

The tailor whipped out a tape and quickly measured Scrornuck in a dozen places. “That should do it. Stop by on Thursday and I'll show you what I've come up with.” He leaned close and stage-whispered into Scrornuck's ear. “And bring your bride. When she sees your outfit, she won't be able to keep her hands off you!"

They were halfway back to the inn before Nalia's curiosity got the best of her. “What's that big old blanket got to do with getting married?"

"Tradition of my people,” he said. “I wrap the plaid over our shoulders, both of us together, and you kiss me. That makes the marriage official."

"Wait a minute,” she said. “We did that in the snowstorm! Does that mean we're married?"

"By my laws, it does."

"And you didn't tell me?” She was laughing out loud.

"I thought you'd like it better if I proposed."

"Yeah.” She was silent for a few seconds, as if considering the implications. “So. We're married. That means we could..."

"Yes?"

"No,” she said, again laughing. “Not till Saturday night! We may be married under your law, but we aren't under mine!” She gave him a peck on the cheek and a slap on the rear. “I don't need to be a mind reader to know what
you're
thinking!"

"No, I'm not!” he protested. But, of course, he was.

They found Jape waiting for them in the suite, after spending his day making another run for provisions in the skimmer. So far, the Taupeaquaahns had survived the disruption to their supply system, tightening their belts and making better use of leftovers—this last in part because the garbage disposers, on a narrow street east of the Temple platform, were also buried.

"Well, that's that,” he said, tapping the softscroll proudly. “I heard the Captain's story yesterday, thought things through on the supply run today, and just finished the report a few minutes ago. Care to have a look before I send it?"

"How long is it?” Nalia asked.

"Twenty-three pages."

"Nah,” Scrornuck said. “Just tell us the high points."

"The executive summary?” Jape said. “All right. You already know most of it: McGinn lived on in the Orb after his body died at the Executive Palace. He fed on the minds of people who were linked with the other Orbs and eventually took the form of a shark. Abe somehow survived the stream crossing on the neo-Nazi world, but his mind was damaged, and eventually Dolph's ambition and desire for revenge took him over. I think he was trying to tell us that when he said the name ‘Abe’ stood for ‘Adolph Brian’ instead of ‘Ansel Brautigan'.

"So he—or they; it's hard to say when minds are tangled together like that—came to Taupeaquaah, created the character of Lord Draggott, and recruited the Captain by pretending to be the True Guest the city had been waiting for. Draggott planned to grow the Orb to enormous size and create the mother of all stream crossings, and a timequake that would destroy my world. It was all about revenge: Dolph wanted revenge on the Rangers for destroying his Reich, and I think a part of Abe wanted to get even with me for leaving him on STC274. As for McGinn, I don't think he understood anything beyond satisfying the shark's appetite."

Scrornuck nodded. “I think the hunger was all that was left of him."

Jape looked at Nalia. “Draggott's fatal mistake was trying to use you to increase the Orb's power even further. You were a lot stronger telepath than Dolph ever was, and each contact with the Orb made you stronger. When you took control of the Orb, the minds of Draggott's slaves gave you the power to destroy him.” He turned to face Scrornuck. “That left McGinn, whom you disposed of, Mister Saughblade."

"I had some help."

Jape nodded and made a small correction. “And then, with the two of you on the ground, we were able to transmit to the Orb the instructions it needed to assemble a time displacer and depart before the streams crossed.” He set the scroll down. “Well, that's the story in a nutshell. Any comments?"

"Hmm.” Nalia bit her lip thoughtfully. “It's close. But I'm not sure we were telling the Orb what to do. When I was retrieving that time theory stuff from your mind, it was asking for specific things. It knew what it needed."

"Hmm.” Jape stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I have no answer to that.” He made a few small changes to the report. “I guess it had to be pretty intelligent to construct a giant time displacer in under two minutes, starting with nothing but the theory."

Nalia was silent for the better part of a minute. Then, softly, she said, “I wonder if we'll ever see it again."

Jape shrugged. “The Rangers visit a lot of time streams. There's always a chance we'll bump into it."

"One, two, three,
now!"
Along with forty other workers, Scrornuck grunted and lifted, raising the three-ton steel truss onto their shoulders. Then, on a signal from the crew chief, they slowly walked it off the Temple platform and into the Square. He breathed a sigh of relief when they set the mass of twisted steel down. They'd moved nineteen of the trusses by Wednesday afternoon, leaving eleven still to go. Just might be ready by Saturday, he thought.

A cheer rose from the direction of the West Gate. Jape was arriving with his daily load of provisions. Deciding this was a good time for a break, Scrornuck wiped the sweat from his forehead and trotted expectantly to the short street west of the Square.

There, he waited. And waited. Normally, Jape pulled the skimmer into Staging Street within two minutes of the first cheer at the Gate. Today, two minutes passed, then five, then ten, then fifteen.

Just about the time Scrornuck was getting worried, the skimmer idled around the corner. And this time, Jape wasn't alone; the Captain sat next to him. But the real surprise followed behind: six large wagons, each pulled by two horses and loaded with food and supplies. For a moment, Scrornuck just stared in amazement.

As Jape brought the skimmer to a halt, the Captain stood, blew her whistle, and began directing the Guards in an orderly distribution of the bounty. Jape, grinning ear-to-ear, climbed down from the skimmer. “Told you the UniFlag folks thought of everything!” he said. “We found a complete equestrian center barely two miles from where the earthmover broke down. Stables, grooms, everything, just waiting for somebody to show up! And the kitchens at Alpine Lake were set up to supply a thousand Cast and Guests, so there was no problem filling the wagons."

It took only a few minutes for the Guards and Cast to unload the supplies. The drivers then unhitched the horses and led them out to graze in the meadows beyond the West Gate. A small crowd followed, at once entranced and frightened by the huge animals. Scrornuck found himself wondering how the people who maintained the spotless plaza outside the Gate would react when the horses started doing what horses do.

Jape, meanwhile, had climbed back into the skimmer. “Here,” he said, pointing to a big, wheeled toolbox, “I brought you a present."

With Jape's help, Scrornuck lifted the box over the skimmer's fender and set it on the street. “What is it?"

"Plasma torch. I figured you'd need something to cut up those trusses."

"Yeah.” Scrornuck lifted the lid and looked at the high-tech cutting tool. “I miss Ol’ Red,” he said with a sigh. “He would've chopped this stuff up in no time."

Jape gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “I'm sorry, Mister Saughblade, I really am.” Inquiries to the archives and the other Rangers had only confirmed that Scrornuck's fibersword was the last of its kind. “This is the next best thing."

"It'll do the job.” Scrornuck closed the lid and began wheeling the torch toward the stacks of debris in the Square. “Where'd you find it, Alpine Lake?"

"Um, not exactly."

"This thing didn't come from Taupeaquaah, did it?” Scrornuck stopped, and pointed an accusing finger. “How the hell can I protect you if you keep jumping off to other worlds without me?"

Jape shrugged. “I'm only visiting places I know are safe."

"The last time you said a place was safe, I got poisoned, stabbed and burned up!"

Jape struggled to suppress a grin. “It was safe enough for me—I just got a little hangover."

"Shee-ee-yit!"
Scrornuck's cry of frustration was loud enough that some workers turned their heads.

"Would you rather use a hacksaw?"

Scrornuck muttered an obscenity in Russian and resumed walking. There wasn't much else he could do.

"His name is John?” Scrornuck asked, as he and Jape hurried through town early Thursday afternoon. “And he's doing baptisms? Don't tell me—"