They arrived at the Terminal by late afternoon.
A massive platform of stone blocks spanned the top of a hill. It had an incredible aura, brighter and denser than he’d imagined possible. They’d seen an aurora in the sky as they crested the horizon. The intensity blinded his Second Sight, making it useless here. The others’ auras were nightlights under the midday sun.
He’d asked Rana about the Terminals earlier. “It’ll cost you,” she’d said. Apparently, non-essential information would require a favor down the line. While he might’ve asked someone else, he’d be too embarrassed going through the whole group repeating the question.
“Imagine the world covered with invisible rivers. In some places are lakes so deep they reach other worlds. The rivers are leylines, and the lakes are nodes. Portal Rings can open doors at the nodes. The worlds don’t align perfectly, though. The distance between two nodes on one world may be shorter on its neighbor.”
“So,” Daniel had replied, “Paul calculated the shortest distance among all paths through every node on two worlds between us and the Terminal?”
“Three worlds, actually. And, no, my understanding is Paul’s magic relies more on intuition than technical knowledge.”
His ‘list of planets visited’ ticked up to three with a disappointing lack of fanfare.
She’d explained how all the nodes on the planet connect by leylines to the beating heart of the planet’s vascular system, its Terminal. This structure housed a massive World Gate for every neighbor connected by the planet’s nodal system. One Terminal per world, though they came in many sizes.
If veins and arteries controlled blood flow, and chakras and nadis controlled the flow of magic, what flowed through leylines, nodes, and Terminals? Rana didn’t know.
Cassie landed, and they dismounted. Wendi dropped Daniel on the stone steps leading to the platform. A shock ran through him as heart-stopping as the thunder of cannon fire. He looked at his feet for confirmation, and, yes, these stones were invulnerable to his magic. Daniel bent and ran his hand along the edge of the steps, fresh-cut as the day they were built.
Stone couldn’t resist his power. Neither plastics, rock, ceramics, metals, nor dozens upon dozens of substances Mary tested could withstand his touch indefinitely. Paul’s wax body, Kenta’s hair, and even Wendi’s tough skin—though her regeneration reinforced it—weren’t impervious either. Anything that degraded or aged he disintegrated, but something timeless? Something connected to a force or entity beyond time itself?
Perhaps the so-called Terminal was more than any had guessed.
From the platform’s polished surface rose seven plinths. The economy of design reminded Daniel of a train station—no trains, though. Inside the circle of plinths, grooves on the ground formed two large rings.
Their group stopped at the border of a ring fifty feet in diameter. A huge orb, ten feet across, lay embedded like a jewel in the center of this ring. The glassy sphere shone brilliant in the day, clear as water. Then the orb shrank to baseball size and floated to the rim of its crater.
Hundreds upon hundreds of tiny amber Glyphs, each a different animal, flew from the sphere and arranged themselves in a spiraling helix. Flesh materialized inside the column of Glyphs until a strange body stood there. A reptilian lower half with hard scales merged at the waist with a wolfish torso. The orb slid into the beast’s chest in place of a heart and sealed itself inside with bone, muscles, skin, and fur. The glyphs disappeared.
A flat animal mask of verdigris tarnished bronze bared its teeth at them.
The orb possessed the body, shrugging on meat like a winter coat. The beast shuddered to life and stretched out an arm. From the hairy claw flew thousands of tiny Letters glowing all colors of the rainbow. These fractions of an infinite alphabet shined bright under the bronze mask’s gaze, crystalizing at their peak intensity into transparent tiles.
Free-floating Letters drifted like space debris for a breathless instant stretched taught. Then, with shocking precision, they shot into place—the tiles puzzle pieces snapping into a three-dimensional mosaic. Finally, the last Letter locked-in, completing a circuit of magic that unified their colors in a burst of violet.
The creature grasped the hilt of a sword longer than Daniel’s height, Letters yet visible on the blade’s stained-glass face in a fascinating pattern. Beautiful and terrifying, the glowing sword caught the wind with an eerie whistle of impossible sharpness. The masked figure performed a practiced flourish capturing the poise and dignity of a storybook knight—though a dangerous one.
Daniel bit down a yelp but couldn’t help an involuntary step back when the singing sword swung by… far too slow to have dodged an attack. He felt justifiably intimidated.
Which made it odd he alone flinched. Daniel looked again at the marvelous weapon forged from light and the incredible growth of flesh from nothing and wondered.
:Faceless just a mask
Don't trust it don’t show your back
Trust only their task:
Rana let the words linger in Daniel’s mind, then finished, :A Taotie Guardian.:
The masked figure planted its sword tip on the platform and placed both hands on the pommel. A genderless, monotone voice spoke in Daniel’s head. :Greetings, Children of the Founders. The Charter requires this unit to offer assistance. How may this unit assist you?:
While the others lacked Daniel’s alarm, neither were they comfortable. They stood close and conferred in soundless sendings without taking their eyes off the mask.
Lea spoke in a rigid, ceremonial cadence imbued with her magic, “Signpost, give us the reparations we are due from the Alliance by right of birth.”
:Confirmation—It shall be done: More glowing Letters sprung from the masked figure’s claws to form seven levitating yellow halos. One flew to each of the Terminal plinths.
:Amendment—The Grand Treatise on Right Behavior demands this unit clarify your magic had no effect on this unit. This unit does not possess applicable positive templates for Libra magic to amplify, such as those things the Treatise refers to as ‘Moral Principles,’ ‘Aesthetic Appreciation,’ or ‘Sense of Humor.’:
Daniel supposed they were lucky the guardian didn’t interpret Lea’s magic as an ‘attack.’
Six halos returned bearing six items: a Portal Ring, a Pwyll’s Pouch, a Shew Stone, a Rosetta Stone, a translucent quartz crystal, and a Raphael’s Token. :The Charter obligates this unit to notify you the plinth for Genesis is not functioning at present.:
:Ancient history,: Rana added for Daniel’s benefit.
:The Treatise compels this unit to comment on the unfortunate nature of the situation.: Without pause or hint of emotion, Signpost stated, :A pity.:
Rana tilted her head in its direction while looking at Daniel, :They never did fix all the bugs for these things. Couldn’t nail the personality.:
:Bugs? As in, a ‘program?’: Daniel let that slide to focus on the more critical point. :What’s the seventh plinth?:
She gave him a look like, ‘You owe me,’ and he nodded. :It used to be you could grab a Cornucopia with the rest and make free food. Enough to feed whole Colonies. One day all the plinths for Genesis stopped working. Cornucopias became rare overnight, stolen from towns and hoarded away. People starved.:
:That’s awful!: He eyed the guardian and found no sympathy behind that verdigris mask.
She nodded agreement and shrugged. :Nothing we can do. It happened a long time ago. Don’t worry about things you can’t change.: Daniel absorbed her words. He nearly thanked her for the sound advice, as Mary said was polite, when she sent, :Hold on, I need to grab something.:
Ignorant of their private conversation, Lea briefly eyed the magic tools and pronounced them, “Acceptable.” Then, fast as a whip crack, Rana’s tongue snatched the six items and slurped them down in a blink.
“Damn it, Rana!” Kenta said.
She extended a saliva-covered crystal with her prehensile tongue and spoke around it, “I’m sowwy, oo wan' to share?”
Kenta ground his teeth and clenched his fists. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
She shrugged and reeled it into her mouth, which became froglike while she swallowed.
Lea brushed aside the distraction to address the guardian. “Also, we have questions regarding the history of local World Gate activity.”
This was news to Daniel, though he agreed it might be helpful.
:This unit will reveal what knowledge it is obligated to by the Charter.:
She nodded. “Signpost, list all visitors from the past three years.”
:Report—This unit observed four distinct groups who visited this world while traveling on the Via Devana in the past three years.: The guardian pointed with the tip of its sword from one of the three great circles on the Terminal’s face to another to indicate the path of transit.
“This is a City road?” Paul said.
The news reinforced Kenta’s resolve. “Then staying here was never an option.”
“Who were these people you saw?” Lea asked.
:Minor Clarification—All of the travelers observed by this unit were Sons and Daughters of Adam and Eve.:
Lea hummed in thought and concluded, “Mages, then.”
“But were they City mages?” Paul considered. “Couldn’t humans from the Eastwood planet be using their Terminal to get here?”
“Unlikely,” Lea said. “From the treatment we received, their tests on us, and what Cassie overheard, our captors knew nothing of magic in any form. What we do not know is ‘why.’ Shall we investigate?” No one objected. “Paul, you might now check which Gate will send us to the world of Eastwood and the Facility. It may be best to put to rest any lingering questions we can prior to our final departure.”
“Absolutely,” he said and closed his eyes to concentrate.
The Taotie guardian took a step towards the candle boy, claws scraping on stone. :Observation—You are appropriating one of this unit’s primary functions.:
“I-is that b-bad?” Paul’s voice quavered.
:This unit is incapable of answering a qualitative question. An observation is an observation.: Signpost responded matter-of-factly, though Daniel saw from the way its bestial frame loomed over Paul and the mask’s metronomic twitching that it was, in fact, quite bad. :This unit was created to fulfill specific functions laid out in its Charter. If this unit became incapable of fulfilling those functions—:
“—Paul, try not to anger the thing that could kill us all in one swing,” Cassie said as a nervous tone crept into her voice.
Lea had an idea. “Signpost—show us a star chart with our location and this world’s immediate neighbors.”
The mask’s clocklike tick ceased, and the ‘guardian’ moved away from Paul. :The Treatise demands this unit comply with alacrity to insinuate the existence of sentiment guests may construe as positive.:
A cloud of deep space swelled between them and Signpost, its expanse sprinkled with a spiral of sugar. The ‘screen’ focused on a tiny square, magnifying it, then repeated the process to a dozen points of light. White lines connected a dot circled in green to two neighboring blue-circled dots. Hovering text named each star in an unknown language.
Rana prodded the Taotie guardian privately with Daniel alone included, :You’re in a generous mood. You wouldn’t mind giving us the whole star chart in real-time?:
The weighty verdigris mask shifted towards her. :What, if this unit may inquire, would you do with such information?:
:Sell it piecemeal to the highest bidders and become the richest being in the universe.:
:Your quality of life is not one of this unit’s priorities,: Signpost told her and Daniel.
:Yet another design flaw,: Rana sent, :It cares enough to not chop off our heads with fair reliability. Beyond that, it wouldn’t lift a finger if a group of mages came and wasted us.:
Daniel frowned. :Then what the heck is it good for? Why was it made?:
:To serve and protect. They fight Monsters. Also, it turns out demons can’t absorb things without a soul. For all their flaws, Taotie guardians are a crucial line of defense in keeping people safe. The Charter and Treatise tell them to keep out of politics and drama until the real dangers appear.:
Daniel reflected on the situation, his gaze drifting back to the cloud of darkness and twinkling light. “Can’t Paul use the star chart to triangulate the T.O.? Two ‘adjacent’ worlds are far enough apart for that.”
Hope bloomed on the others’ faces but they hesitated to celebrate. Lea turned to Rana. “Would you care to state your opinion on the matter?”
“It’s a good idea… and would probably work.” Rana folded her arms. “Sadly, it won’t help.” She glanced at Daniel, too fast for the others to notice, but he found himself wishing he hadn’t blurted his idea out instead of just asking her first.
“What do you mean?” Lea asked.
Rana made complicated gestures with her hands. “Terminal ‘roads’ aren’t straight lines. They split, dead-end, loop, spiral, roll, meander, and maybe one sashays. The worst thing, though, the absolute worst, is that the paths through the Wilderness constantly change. We can’t assume traveling in the right direction is getting us closer. Triangulation won’t help people without interstellar flight.”
The others agreed with her assessment and let the matter drop. On the star chart, they saw one blue highlighted world had branching white lines while the other dead-ended. That must be Mary’s world. With this conclusion, Lea pointed and said, “Signpost, when was the last time anyone came here through that gate first?”
:Answer—Negative. This unit has no records of such an event. The Treatise prompts this unit to avoid ambiguity by making you aware this unit has been operational for less than three years. Cause of predecessor’s absence—unknown.:
“Probably the demon,” Paul said. Rana kicked his shin with a sidelong glance at Wendi, the devil girl thankfully distracted with coaxing a lost beetle onto her palm.
:The Treatise compels this unit to thank you for the presumably helpful news.:
The others conferred.
“As we suspected, no recent activity,” Lea said, “Does anyone have an idea as to why no one on that world uses their Terminal?”
The explanation seemed obvious to Daniel. “Because they can’t.”
“That’s impossible…” Kenta shot back, but his confidence disintegrated after finishing the declaration. He looked to the others with growing doubt.
Lea took the initiative. “Perhaps we should investigate this matter ourselves. Signpost, if you please.”
The Taotie guardian pointed to the World Gate in question. The ring rotated, rising from the face of the Terminal in a twenty-five-foot arch aligned with a paper-thin slot in the floor. An inner ring contracted to its central point, then a window between worlds expanded like a soap bubble to fill the outer ring.
Though they wouldn’t be gone long, the Taotie guardian sent them off with all formalities. :The Treatise demands this unit initiate mandatory fond regards, including a statement of personal connection with one or more of the guests.: Daniel was rolling his eyes at this point. :You are always welcome here Daughter of Biān Fú, Son of Girandole: The Way, Daughter of Titania and Oberon, Son of Futakuchi, Daughter of Amalthea, Daughter of Heqet, and Son of Perses.:
A freezing wind touched Daniel’s heart.
:Calm down Daniel, Perses isn’t your birth father,: Rana sent. :Probably.: She twitched. :Be creepy, if he was.:
The others stepped through the portal while Daniel wrestled with internal turmoil. :Wait, how do you and the guardian know the name of the guy who talked to me yesterday?:
They locked eyes, then Rana faked disinterest to disguise her reaction from anyone else. :You actually spoke with him?:
:…Yeah?:
:Hmm. All most people ever ‘hear’ are the vague feelings and impressions everyone gets when they use magic. A rare few merit more than a word from their Progenitor. Some of those, it is said, have hearts ‘deaf’ to that Voice. How many can say they received an answer to their call?:
:I didn’t call him,: Daniel sent on reflex, though the denial had a dishonest ring somewhere between a lie and a wish, :…I didn’t mean to.:
Thankfully, she didn’t comment on his objection. :I met one other before you I know spoke with her Progenitor.:
:Who?:
She changed the subject. :This explains a few things… When you busted the Atlantean ship, Cassie heard what Perses said through you—but we didn’t know whether you were conscious or if you were aware of being possessed.:
That would explain why he found Rana in a fighting-stance when they met despite her knowing who he was.
As he pondered yesterday’s events, so did she, :I thought it weird how together you were after ‘losing control’ of yourself. The others decided to ignore it and hope you stayed cool…:
:Except for Kenta—:
:—Who thought you were too dangerous.: Now Daniel had another clue to help smooth things over with the others and prove himself to Kenta. :Be careful, though. If you’ve managed to interest Perses, He’ll be watching you closely.:
:What do you mean watching?:
“Guys, this is crazy! Hurry up!” Cassie called to them from another world.
Across the portal lay another Terminal, though much smaller and with one World Gate instead of two. Instead of a blue sky, a sparkling dome dazzled his eyes with raw splendor. He stepped through the portal in a trance. A glistening cavern of cut gemstones dancing in the light of the window encased the Terminal like a snow globe.
They were inside a geode.
Sapphires didn’t dot the wall’s surface; this was a solid layer of overlapping stones, some larger than his head. The tons upon tons of gems here could crash a global market a thousand-fold. He knew at a glance they were real, not plastic knockoffs. However, neither their size, quality, nor polished state could possibly have been natural. That made them no less real, or less beautiful.
He wished Mary could see this.
Lea spoke to this Terminal’s Signpost, the conversation an almost verbatim repeat. When he did glance over, this Signpost had formed a unique bestial body. The mask perched on a long and sinuous neck connected to an apelike body. It wielded a green spear instead of a sword. This guardian produced six objects as well.
When Lea distributed the items to those missing a complete set, Daniel thought he spied a spark of jealousy in her as she watched the others admiring the jewelry. “What do you think, Rana? Who could have done… this?”
The frog girl nodded. “The Element of Stone. This is Enchanted Sapphire. There’s so much of it, must… must have… been…” She lost herself in awe staring at the gorgeous crystals. Rana blinked and centered herself, then concluded, “…One of the older Archmages. Perhaps Tartarus herself.”
“C-could even Wendi or Daniel put a scratch on it?” Paul wondered aloud as he gazed up.
Before anyone could stop her, Wendi strolled forward and threw a punch. Daniel felt the vibrations from the impact through the chamber. He saw her magic crush the air into minute superheated pockets that burst like firecrackers around her fist. To her, a brick wall was wet tissue paper. Yet, the crystal remained unblemished. “Nope.” She smiled, “It’s really, really pretty, though.”
Not wanting to bring the roof down with a careless attack, Daniel brushed a large sapphire with his hand. With that physical contact, his eyes opened. Daniel saw the gemstones’ true nature—an immense amount of magical energy compacted into a microscopic crystalline structure. They were not physical matter in the conventional sense and, though able to pass the inspection of any jeweler, would dissipate over time. However, their incredible stability gave them a half-life on the scale of geologic epochs. As a result, he couldn’t put a meaningful date on their creation within the past few million years.
Under hands that rusted metal in a blink, he sensed the sapphire change at the smallest limit of perception. It was so dense. Unlike the Terminal, Daniel and Wendi’s powers did affect the Enchanted Sapphire. The evidence of those changes was simply on a scale too infinitesimal for human eyes. Daniel supposed he’d sleep on a bed of the stuff without noticing a difference for weeks, months, or years—he couldn’t say. Scratching its surface far exceeded his current ability.
With his comprehension came a vision of the great being who, in time immemorial, poured power beyond reckoning into a construct the size of a concert theater and built it to outlast ice ages. If Daniel had not met Perses the day prior, he’d have thought this person the most powerful being in the universe.
Although, how could he compare the height of two mountains without a reference? Was the one taller than the other, or simply nearer? The difference could be orders of magnitude with Daniel too small to tell.
“What do you see, Dan?” Kenta’s voice, not harsh but cautious and perhaps concerned, returned him from a trancelike state. How long had he been spacing out?
Daniel about-faced to ask the group. “Aren’t mages human? I can’t believe a mortal made this.”
They exchanged glances, then looked at Rana, who answered, “Mages’ magic alters their bodies. I doubt any would call the most powerful wizards and sorcerers of the City human.”
Cassie, who had spent minutes with one ear pressed to the sapphires, now called for their attention. “Guys, you won’t believe where we are! This is miles beneath the surface—we’re in the heart of a mountain!” This came as a shock to everyone but Daniel. Nothing could surprise him after what he’d sensed from the jewels.
“That’s not possible,” Paul said. “All Terminals are on the surface of their planets.”
“Unless they are buried by landslide or flood or shifting sands,” Lea countered, “Or sabotage… Someone did not want people coming here. I wonder, why allow travelers through a neighboring world’s portal?”
“Why not seal both Terminals in Sapphire and leave no way in?” Cassie added. She sent Rana a question and the two had a brief mental conversation telegraphed with eyebrows.
What motivated someone so powerful to do something so pointless?
Rana finished talking to Cassie and announced, “Treasure hunters.” They looked at her, confused, and she explained. “There’s ripe Cintamani here. Daniel and I’ll harvest them.” The others accepted this as Daniel practiced patience, knowing his curiosity would soon be quenched. “We know mages come this way often, harvesting Cintamani along the Via Devana.
“A sealed Terminal is a treasure chest to them. No matter how tough the lock, they’d break it eventually—and maybe try to find the reason behind the seal. Keeping the treasure unlocked removes their motivation to look deeper into what’s really going on.”
The frog girl waved a hand at the Sapphires. “Whoever did this wasn’t trying to keep everyone away forever. That’s not a realistic goal. They were too smart to block all the nodes and hope no one ever dug their way through. Instead, they successfully isolated an entire planet from the rest of the universe in the easiest way possible. They made it boring.”
The revelation hit Daniel like a hammer as Rana spelled it all out. “They cut off the human population from their Terminal. No Terminal, no World Gate. No interplanetary trade, no magic. Visitors by node slowed to a trickle over the centuries, and those who remembered magic left or died out until memory became myth. Mages won’t investigate something if they don’t smell profit, least of all a world without magic.”
She didn’t have to finish. Everything pointed to this being a cover-up to ensure no one ever found UE 000.
One thing didn’t make sense, though. How did they find it? Nobody went searching for the spaceship. How weird for Persephone to have randomly uncovered it… Regardless, if someone buried that ship for a reason, he hoped Mary was being careful.
They arrived at the Terminal by late afternoon.
A massive platform of stone blocks spanned the top of a hill. It had an incredible aura, brighter and denser than he’d imagined possible. They’d seen an aurora in the sky as they crested the horizon. The intensity blinded his Second Sight, making it useless here. The others’ auras were nightlights under the midday sun.
He’d asked Rana about the Terminals earlier. “It’ll cost you,” she’d said. Apparently, non-essential information would require a favor down the line. While he might’ve asked someone else, he’d be too embarrassed going through the whole group repeating the question.
“Imagine the world covered with invisible rivers. In some places are lakes so deep they reach other worlds. The rivers are leylines, and the lakes are nodes. Portal Rings can open doors at the nodes. The worlds don’t align perfectly, though. The distance between two nodes on one world may be shorter on its neighbor.”
“So,” Daniel had replied, “Paul calculated the shortest distance among all paths through every node on two worlds between us and the Terminal?”
“Three worlds, actually. And, no, my understanding is Paul’s magic relies more on intuition than technical knowledge.”
His ‘list of planets visited’ ticked up to three with a disappointing lack of fanfare.
She’d explained how all the nodes on the planet connect by leylines to the beating heart of the planet’s vascular system, its Terminal. This structure housed a massive World Gate for every neighbor connected by the planet’s nodal system. One Terminal per world, though they came in many sizes.
If veins and arteries controlled blood flow, and chakras and nadis controlled the flow of magic, what flowed through leylines, nodes, and Terminals? Rana didn’t know.
Cassie landed, and they dismounted. Wendi dropped Daniel on the stone steps leading to the platform. A shock ran through him as heart-stopping as the thunder of cannon fire. He looked at his feet for confirmation, and, yes, these stones were invulnerable to his magic. Daniel bent and ran his hand along the edge of the steps, fresh-cut as the day they were built.
Stone couldn’t resist his power. Neither plastics, rock, ceramics, metals, nor dozens upon dozens of substances Mary tested could withstand his touch indefinitely. Paul’s wax body, Kenta’s hair, and even Wendi’s tough skin—though her regeneration reinforced it—weren’t impervious either. Anything that degraded or aged he disintegrated, but something timeless? Something connected to a force or entity beyond time itself?
Perhaps the so-called Terminal was more than any had guessed.
From the platform’s polished surface rose seven plinths. The economy of design reminded Daniel of a train station—no trains, though. Inside the circle of plinths, grooves on the ground formed two large rings.
Their group stopped at the border of a ring fifty feet in diameter. A huge orb, ten feet across, lay embedded like a jewel in the center of this ring. The glassy sphere shone brilliant in the day, clear as water. Then the orb shrank to baseball size and floated to the rim of its crater.
Hundreds upon hundreds of tiny amber Glyphs, each a different animal, flew from the sphere and arranged themselves in a spiraling helix. Flesh materialized inside the column of Glyphs until a strange body stood there. A reptilian lower half with hard scales merged at the waist with a wolfish torso. The orb slid into the beast’s chest in place of a heart and sealed itself inside with bone, muscles, skin, and fur. The glyphs disappeared.
A flat animal mask of verdigris tarnished bronze bared its teeth at them.
The orb possessed the body, shrugging on meat like a winter coat. The beast shuddered to life and stretched out an arm. From the hairy claw flew thousands of tiny Letters glowing all colors of the rainbow. These fractions of an infinite alphabet shined bright under the bronze mask’s gaze, crystalizing at their peak intensity into transparent tiles.
Free-floating Letters drifted like space debris for a breathless instant stretched taught. Then, with shocking precision, they shot into place—the tiles puzzle pieces snapping into a three-dimensional mosaic. Finally, the last Letter locked-in, completing a circuit of magic that unified their colors in a burst of violet.
The creature grasped the hilt of a sword longer than Daniel’s height, Letters yet visible on the blade’s stained-glass face in a fascinating pattern. Beautiful and terrifying, the glowing sword caught the wind with an eerie whistle of impossible sharpness. The masked figure performed a practiced flourish capturing the poise and dignity of a storybook knight—though a dangerous one.
Daniel bit down a yelp but couldn’t help an involuntary step back when the singing sword swung by… far too slow to have dodged an attack. He felt justifiably intimidated.
Which made it odd he alone flinched. Daniel looked again at the marvelous weapon forged from light and the incredible growth of flesh from nothing and wondered.
:Faceless just a mask
Don't trust it don’t show your back
Trust only their task:
Rana let the words linger in Daniel’s mind, then finished, :A Taotie Guardian.:
The masked figure planted its sword tip on the platform and placed both hands on the pommel. A genderless, monotone voice spoke in Daniel’s head. :Greetings, Children of the Founders. The Charter requires this unit to offer assistance. How may this unit assist you?:
While the others lacked Daniel’s alarm, neither were they comfortable. They stood close and conferred in soundless sendings without taking their eyes off the mask.
Lea spoke in a rigid, ceremonial cadence imbued with her magic, “Signpost, give us the reparations we are due from the Alliance by right of birth.”
:Confirmation—It shall be done: More glowing Letters sprung from the masked figure’s claws to form seven levitating yellow halos. One flew to each of the Terminal plinths.
:Amendment—The Grand Treatise on Right Behavior demands this unit clarify your magic had no effect on this unit. This unit does not possess applicable positive templates for Libra magic to amplify, such as those things the Treatise refers to as ‘Moral Principles,’ ‘Aesthetic Appreciation,’ or ‘Sense of Humor.’:
Daniel supposed they were lucky the guardian didn’t interpret Lea’s magic as an ‘attack.’
Six halos returned bearing six items: a Portal Ring, a Pwyll’s Pouch, a Shew Stone, a Rosetta Stone, a translucent quartz crystal, and a Raphael’s Token. :The Charter obligates this unit to notify you the plinth for Genesis is not functioning at present.:
:Ancient history,: Rana added for Daniel’s benefit.
:The Treatise compels this unit to comment on the unfortunate nature of the situation.: Without pause or hint of emotion, Signpost stated, :A pity.:
Rana tilted her head in its direction while looking at Daniel, :They never did fix all the bugs for these things. Couldn’t nail the personality.:
:Bugs? As in, a ‘program?’: Daniel let that slide to focus on the more critical point. :What’s the seventh plinth?:
She gave him a look like, ‘You owe me,’ and he nodded. :It used to be you could grab a Cornucopia with the rest and make free food. Enough to feed whole Colonies. One day all the plinths for Genesis stopped working. Cornucopias became rare overnight, stolen from towns and hoarded away. People starved.:
:That’s awful!: He eyed the guardian and found no sympathy behind that verdigris mask.
She nodded agreement and shrugged. :Nothing we can do. It happened a long time ago. Don’t worry about things you can’t change.: Daniel absorbed her words. He nearly thanked her for the sound advice, as Mary said was polite, when she sent, :Hold on, I need to grab something.:
Ignorant of their private conversation, Lea briefly eyed the magic tools and pronounced them, “Acceptable.” Then, fast as a whip crack, Rana’s tongue snatched the six items and slurped them down in a blink.
“Damn it, Rana!” Kenta said.
She extended a saliva-covered crystal with her prehensile tongue and spoke around it, “I’m sowwy, oo wan' to share?”
Kenta ground his teeth and clenched his fists. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
She shrugged and reeled it into her mouth, which became froglike while she swallowed.
Lea brushed aside the distraction to address the guardian. “Also, we have questions regarding the history of local World Gate activity.”
This was news to Daniel, though he agreed it might be helpful.
:This unit will reveal what knowledge it is obligated to by the Charter.:
She nodded. “Signpost, list all visitors from the past three years.”
:Report—This unit observed four distinct groups who visited this world while traveling on the Via Devana in the past three years.: The guardian pointed with the tip of its sword from one of the three great circles on the Terminal’s face to another to indicate the path of transit.
“This is a City road?” Paul said.
The news reinforced Kenta’s resolve. “Then staying here was never an option.”
“Who were these people you saw?” Lea asked.
:Minor Clarification—All of the travelers observed by this unit were Sons and Daughters of Adam and Eve.:
Lea hummed in thought and concluded, “Mages, then.”
“But were they City mages?” Paul considered. “Couldn’t humans from the Eastwood planet be using their Terminal to get here?”
“Unlikely,” Lea said. “From the treatment we received, their tests on us, and what Cassie overheard, our captors knew nothing of magic in any form. What we do not know is ‘why.’ Shall we investigate?” No one objected. “Paul, you might now check which Gate will send us to the world of Eastwood and the Facility. It may be best to put to rest any lingering questions we can prior to our final departure.”
“Absolutely,” he said and closed his eyes to concentrate.
The Taotie guardian took a step towards the candle boy, claws scraping on stone. :Observation—You are appropriating one of this unit’s primary functions.:
“I-is that b-bad?” Paul’s voice quavered.
:This unit is incapable of answering a qualitative question. An observation is an observation.: Signpost responded matter-of-factly, though Daniel saw from the way its bestial frame loomed over Paul and the mask’s metronomic twitching that it was, in fact, quite bad. :This unit was created to fulfill specific functions laid out in its Charter. If this unit became incapable of fulfilling those functions—:
“—Paul, try not to anger the thing that could kill us all in one swing,” Cassie said as a nervous tone crept into her voice.
Lea had an idea. “Signpost—show us a star chart with our location and this world’s immediate neighbors.”
The mask’s clocklike tick ceased, and the ‘guardian’ moved away from Paul. :The Treatise demands this unit comply with alacrity to insinuate the existence of sentiment guests may construe as positive.:
A cloud of deep space swelled between them and Signpost, its expanse sprinkled with a spiral of sugar. The ‘screen’ focused on a tiny square, magnifying it, then repeated the process to a dozen points of light. White lines connected a dot circled in green to two neighboring blue-circled dots. Hovering text named each star in an unknown language.
Rana prodded the Taotie guardian privately with Daniel alone included, :You’re in a generous mood. You wouldn’t mind giving us the whole star chart in real-time?:
The weighty verdigris mask shifted towards her. :What, if this unit may inquire, would you do with such information?:
:Sell it piecemeal to the highest bidders and become the richest being in the universe.:
:Your quality of life is not one of this unit’s priorities,: Signpost told her and Daniel.
:Yet another design flaw,: Rana sent, :It cares enough to not chop off our heads with fair reliability. Beyond that, it wouldn’t lift a finger if a group of mages came and wasted us.:
Daniel frowned. :Then what the heck is it good for? Why was it made?:
:To serve and protect. They fight Monsters. Also, it turns out demons can’t absorb things without a soul. For all their flaws, Taotie guardians are a crucial line of defense in keeping people safe. The Charter and Treatise tell them to keep out of politics and drama until the real dangers appear.:
Daniel reflected on the situation, his gaze drifting back to the cloud of darkness and twinkling light. “Can’t Paul use the star chart to triangulate the T.O.? Two ‘adjacent’ worlds are far enough apart for that.”
Hope bloomed on the others’ faces but they hesitated to celebrate. Lea turned to Rana. “Would you care to state your opinion on the matter?”
“It’s a good idea… and would probably work.” Rana folded her arms. “Sadly, it won’t help.” She glanced at Daniel, too fast for the others to notice, but he found himself wishing he hadn’t blurted his idea out instead of just asking her first.
“What do you mean?” Lea asked.
Rana made complicated gestures with her hands. “Terminal ‘roads’ aren’t straight lines. They split, dead-end, loop, spiral, roll, meander, and maybe one sashays. The worst thing, though, the absolute worst, is that the paths through the Wilderness constantly change. We can’t assume traveling in the right direction is getting us closer. Triangulation won’t help people without interstellar flight.”
The others agreed with her assessment and let the matter drop. On the star chart, they saw one blue highlighted world had branching white lines while the other dead-ended. That must be Mary’s world. With this conclusion, Lea pointed and said, “Signpost, when was the last time anyone came here through that gate first?”
:Answer—Negative. This unit has no records of such an event. The Treatise prompts this unit to avoid ambiguity by making you aware this unit has been operational for less than three years. Cause of predecessor’s absence—unknown.:
“Probably the demon,” Paul said. Rana kicked his shin with a sidelong glance at Wendi, the devil girl thankfully distracted with coaxing a lost beetle onto her palm.
:The Treatise compels this unit to thank you for the presumably helpful news.:
The others conferred.
“As we suspected, no recent activity,” Lea said, “Does anyone have an idea as to why no one on that world uses their Terminal?”
The explanation seemed obvious to Daniel. “Because they can’t.”
“That’s impossible…” Kenta shot back, but his confidence disintegrated after finishing the declaration. He looked to the others with growing doubt.
Lea took the initiative. “Perhaps we should investigate this matter ourselves. Signpost, if you please.”
The Taotie guardian pointed to the World Gate in question. The ring rotated, rising from the face of the Terminal in a twenty-five-foot arch aligned with a paper-thin slot in the floor. An inner ring contracted to its central point, then a window between worlds expanded like a soap bubble to fill the outer ring.
Though they wouldn’t be gone long, the Taotie guardian sent them off with all formalities. :The Treatise demands this unit initiate mandatory fond regards, including a statement of personal connection with one or more of the guests.: Daniel was rolling his eyes at this point. :You are always welcome here Daughter of Biān Fú, Son of Girandole: The Way, Daughter of Titania and Oberon, Son of Futakuchi, Daughter of Amalthea, Daughter of Heqet, and Son of Perses.:
A freezing wind touched Daniel’s heart.
:Calm down Daniel, Perses isn’t your birth father,: Rana sent. :Probably.: She twitched. :Be creepy, if he was.:
The others stepped through the portal while Daniel wrestled with internal turmoil. :Wait, how do you and the guardian know the name of the guy who talked to me yesterday?:
They locked eyes, then Rana faked disinterest to disguise her reaction from anyone else. :You actually spoke with him?:
:…Yeah?:
:Hmm. All most people ever ‘hear’ are the vague feelings and impressions everyone gets when they use magic. A rare few merit more than a word from their Progenitor. Some of those, it is said, have hearts ‘deaf’ to that Voice. How many can say they received an answer to their call?:
:I didn’t call him,: Daniel sent on reflex, though the denial had a dishonest ring somewhere between a lie and a wish, :…I didn’t mean to.:
Thankfully, she didn’t comment on his objection. :I met one other before you I know spoke with her Progenitor.:
:Who?:
She changed the subject. :This explains a few things… When you busted the Atlantean ship, Cassie heard what Perses said through you—but we didn’t know whether you were conscious or if you were aware of being possessed.:
That would explain why he found Rana in a fighting-stance when they met despite her knowing who he was.
As he pondered yesterday’s events, so did she, :I thought it weird how together you were after ‘losing control’ of yourself. The others decided to ignore it and hope you stayed cool…:
:Except for Kenta—:
:—Who thought you were too dangerous.: Now Daniel had another clue to help smooth things over with the others and prove himself to Kenta. :Be careful, though. If you’ve managed to interest Perses, He’ll be watching you closely.:
:What do you mean watching?:
“Guys, this is crazy! Hurry up!” Cassie called to them from another world.
Across the portal lay another Terminal, though much smaller and with one World Gate instead of two. Instead of a blue sky, a sparkling dome dazzled his eyes with raw splendor. He stepped through the portal in a trance. A glistening cavern of cut gemstones dancing in the light of the window encased the Terminal like a snow globe.
They were inside a geode.
Sapphires didn’t dot the wall’s surface; this was a solid layer of overlapping stones, some larger than his head. The tons upon tons of gems here could crash a global market a thousand-fold. He knew at a glance they were real, not plastic knockoffs. However, neither their size, quality, nor polished state could possibly have been natural. That made them no less real, or less beautiful.
He wished Mary could see this.
Lea spoke to this Terminal’s Signpost, the conversation an almost verbatim repeat. When he did glance over, this Signpost had formed a unique bestial body. The mask perched on a long and sinuous neck connected to an apelike body. It wielded a green spear instead of a sword. This guardian produced six objects as well.
When Lea distributed the items to those missing a complete set, Daniel thought he spied a spark of jealousy in her as she watched the others admiring the jewelry. “What do you think, Rana? Who could have done… this?”
The frog girl nodded. “The Element of Stone. This is Enchanted Sapphire. There’s so much of it, must… must have… been…” She lost herself in awe staring at the gorgeous crystals. Rana blinked and centered herself, then concluded, “…One of the older Archmages. Perhaps Tartarus herself.”
“C-could even Wendi or Daniel put a scratch on it?” Paul wondered aloud as he gazed up.
Before anyone could stop her, Wendi strolled forward and threw a punch. Daniel felt the vibrations from the impact through the chamber. He saw her magic crush the air into minute superheated pockets that burst like firecrackers around her fist. To her, a brick wall was wet tissue paper. Yet, the crystal remained unblemished. “Nope.” She smiled, “It’s really, really pretty, though.”
Not wanting to bring the roof down with a careless attack, Daniel brushed a large sapphire with his hand. With that physical contact, his eyes opened. Daniel saw the gemstones’ true nature—an immense amount of magical energy compacted into a microscopic crystalline structure. They were not physical matter in the conventional sense and, though able to pass the inspection of any jeweler, would dissipate over time. However, their incredible stability gave them a half-life on the scale of geologic epochs. As a result, he couldn’t put a meaningful date on their creation within the past few million years.
Under hands that rusted metal in a blink, he sensed the sapphire change at the smallest limit of perception. It was so dense. Unlike the Terminal, Daniel and Wendi’s powers did affect the Enchanted Sapphire. The evidence of those changes was simply on a scale too infinitesimal for human eyes. Daniel supposed he’d sleep on a bed of the stuff without noticing a difference for weeks, months, or years—he couldn’t say. Scratching its surface far exceeded his current ability.
With his comprehension came a vision of the great being who, in time immemorial, poured power beyond reckoning into a construct the size of a concert theater and built it to outlast ice ages. If Daniel had not met Perses the day prior, he’d have thought this person the most powerful being in the universe.
Although, how could he compare the height of two mountains without a reference? Was the one taller than the other, or simply nearer? The difference could be orders of magnitude with Daniel too small to tell.
“What do you see, Dan?” Kenta’s voice, not harsh but cautious and perhaps concerned, returned him from a trancelike state. How long had he been spacing out?
Daniel about-faced to ask the group. “Aren’t mages human? I can’t believe a mortal made this.”
They exchanged glances, then looked at Rana, who answered, “Mages’ magic alters their bodies. I doubt any would call the most powerful wizards and sorcerers of the City human.”
Cassie, who had spent minutes with one ear pressed to the sapphires, now called for their attention. “Guys, you won’t believe where we are! This is miles beneath the surface—we’re in the heart of a mountain!” This came as a shock to everyone but Daniel. Nothing could surprise him after what he’d sensed from the jewels.
“That’s not possible,” Paul said. “All Terminals are on the surface of their planets.”
“Unless they are buried by landslide or flood or shifting sands,” Lea countered, “Or sabotage… Someone did not want people coming here. I wonder, why allow travelers through a neighboring world’s portal?”
“Why not seal both Terminals in Sapphire and leave no way in?” Cassie added. She sent Rana a question and the two had a brief mental conversation telegraphed with eyebrows.
What motivated someone so powerful to do something so pointless?
Rana finished talking to Cassie and announced, “Treasure hunters.” They looked at her, confused, and she explained. “There’s ripe Cintamani here. Daniel and I’ll harvest them.” The others accepted this as Daniel practiced patience, knowing his curiosity would soon be quenched. “We know mages come this way often, harvesting Cintamani along the Via Devana.
“A sealed Terminal is a treasure chest to them. No matter how tough the lock, they’d break it eventually—and maybe try to find the reason behind the seal. Keeping the treasure unlocked removes their motivation to look deeper into what’s really going on.”
The frog girl waved a hand at the Sapphires. “Whoever did this wasn’t trying to keep everyone away forever. That’s not a realistic goal. They were too smart to block all the nodes and hope no one ever dug their way through. Instead, they successfully isolated an entire planet from the rest of the universe in the easiest way possible. They made it boring.”
The revelation hit Daniel like a hammer as Rana spelled it all out. “They cut off the human population from their Terminal. No Terminal, no World Gate. No interplanetary trade, no magic. Visitors by node slowed to a trickle over the centuries, and those who remembered magic left or died out until memory became myth. Mages won’t investigate something if they don’t smell profit, least of all a world without magic.”
She didn’t have to finish. Everything pointed to this being a cover-up to ensure no one ever found UE 000.
One thing didn’t make sense, though. How did they find it? Nobody went searching for the spaceship. How weird for Persephone to have randomly uncovered it… Regardless, if someone buried that ship for a reason, he hoped Mary was being careful.
