The Shadow of the Progenitors: A Transforms Novel (The Cause Book 1) (23 page)

“Gilgamesh, come back,” he heard, after he didn’t know how long.  He pulled his attention back to the here and now with a jolting wrench.  After stretching his soul out over the world, even the infinite presence of the tree was a relief.  He touched the rough brown bark, and realized that he had found the center of the world, here on the city hall lawn in Atlanta Georgia.  The weight of all his responsibilities felt heavy on his shoulders.

“Impressive,” he said, and his voice sounded distant.

“So it affects even you, the notorious realist,” Merlin said.  “I’ll take that as a compliment.  This is primarily tuned to Crows, but I put some work into touching the normals as well.  Some of them pick up a sense of responsibility when they pass by.  I thought it couldn’t hurt around city hall.  Occasionally normals come by and meditate here.”

“What’s it called?” Gilgamesh asked.

“Yggdrasil,” Merlin said.

Of course.

“So you didn’t come all this way to admire my artwork,” Merlin said.  They were back in Merlin’s home in the basement of the Collanwolde Fine Arts Center.  Merlin claimed an old storage room that everyone seemed to have forgotten about, and after Gilgamesh metasensed the dross constructs lining the walls, he understood why.

“I’m afraid you’re correct,” Gilgamesh said.  “I’m on a quest to heal Sinclair.”  Quest.  The word sounded ludicrous in the twentieth century, but, well,
Nobles
.

“Tell me,” Merlin said, sympathetic.  Gilgamesh decided Merlin had been on a few quests himself, in his day.

Gilgamesh told the story, and did so well, as storytelling was one of his better skills.  He left nothing out.  With all Merlin’s questions, it took nearly an hour.  Eventually Merlin leaned back in his cheap vinyl chair at the flimsy Formica table.

“So Sinclair and some talking Beast Man are holed up just outside the city,” Merlin said.

“Noble,” Gilgamesh said.  Just because Gilgamesh thought of Hoskins as a Beast Man didn’t mean anyone else could.  Hoskins might be a Beast Man, but he was Gilgamesh’s Beast Man.

“Whatever.  Tell them to come in.  I want to have a look at them.”

“Honorable Merlin,” Hoskins said, bowing his head.  He carried the unconscious Sinclair in his arms.

Merlin sniffed, disapproving.  “Are you going to behave yourself in my home, or do I need to take steps?”  Well layered dross constructs ringed Merlin, many of which Gilgamesh barely metasensed, much less comprehended.  Gilgamesh feared Hoskins would say something offensive, but Hoskins remained thoroughly courteous.

“I’m a guest in your home, Honorable Merlin.  I wouldn’t dream of abusing your hospitality.”

“Hmph.  Good.  Now put the young Crow down on the couch and let me have a look at him.”

The couch was right next to the Formica table, and old and worn, with stuffing peeking out from the split seam on one arm.  Hoskins put Sinclair down and stood over him warily.  Merlin came close and knelt beside Sinclair, probing and poking much like Shadow had done.

“Can’t you move away a little bit?” Merlin said.

“Honorable Merlin, it is my job to stand guard over Master Sinclair.  I would be remiss in my responsibility if I didn’t guard him well.”

“Hmph.  Well at least you don’t have to
loom
.”  Hoskins didn’t say anything, but he moved a couple of feet toward the other end of the couch.  Gilgamesh thought he caught a hint of a smile behind Hoskins’ beard.

After several minutes, Merlin stood up and went back to the table, where he sat and turned to face Gilgamesh.  “Well, Sinclair does indeed seem to have been cast out.  And Duke Hoskins does seem to still be more than a barbaric Beast Man.  I think I may have to accept your story as true.  Conditionally, you understand.”

“The story is true, sir.”

“Yes, yes.  I’d rather it wasn’t.  Crows casting other Crows out without involving their Guru sounds like too much temper and not enough thought.  I hope you didn’t expect me to get involved in your fight.”

“Sir.”  Hell, Gilgamesh certainly had hoped Guru Merlin would decide to join their side.  He should have known better than to expect Crows to join a fight that wasn’t their own.  “Much as I would appreciate your support, I can understand why you wouldn’t want to get involved.”

“Good.  Now, while I won’t join your fight, I can give you a few pointers.  You’re massively under-taught.  Not that I don’t respect Shadow, but in my day, Gurus didn’t learn from just one teacher.  Why, when I learned, I had three.  Innocence, Rumor and Shadow all helped me, and I learned from whomever I could find, besides.  It’s foolish for you to think you can learn to be a Guru by only learning from Shadow.  Besides, you seem far enough along to be able to pick up some of my more advanced techniques.”

Merlin raised a finger.  “So, you’ll stay here for a couple of days.  You and Sinclair and even the giant that comes with you, and I’ll teach you a few things.”

Gilgamesh nodded.  “That would be useful.”

“Now, you, giant Duke Hopper or whatever, you go get your things out of whatever exposed motel you’ve parked in.  You’ll be much safer here under my defenses.”

“Certainly, Honorable Merlin,” Hoskins said.  “Thank you for your hospitality.  May I make a request of you also?  If you have a chance, I would also like to see your artwork.”

Merlin was startled for a brief moment, and then snorted.  “My work is meant for Crows.  You certainly wouldn’t understand it.  But if you insist.”  Gilgamesh spotted a little awkward glow of pleasure on Merlin’s face, and silently kept his own face straight, unwillingly impressed with Hoskins’ masterful ability to make friends.

“I would appreciate the attempt, Honorable Merlin,” he said.

“Yes, well, maybe you’re a little bit civilized after all.  Now go get your things.  Do you trust me enough to leave Sinclair here in peace, or are you going to insist on taking him with you?”

“I trust you, Honorable Merlin.”

“Good.  Then get out of here.  Now Gilgamesh, sit down.”  Merlin paused, and waited until Hoskins vanished.  Then Merlin changed the dross constructs he carried, a new and intricate pattern, to extend around the two of them.  “The first thing you need to understand is that there is no magic.  However much what you’re doing looks like magic, however much your primitive monkey brain thinks what you’re doing is magic, there
is
no magic.  Everything anyone does with the dross or the juice is no more than chemicals and illusion.  If you remember this, you can control your creations.  If you ever believe you’re doing magic, then your creations will control you, and you’re lost.  Never believe in magic.  Now, let me see a basic stabilization structure…”

---

“Thank you very much for your help, sir,” Gilgamesh said.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could swear the waves in the Georgia seascape over on the wall moved, amid the high cry of seagulls.  Gilgamesh had been shocked to hear that before Gilgamesh’s discovery of his rotten eggs, and the spreading of the rotten egg technique, Merlin hadn’t been able to stabilize dross constructs on mobile objects.  Merlin still struggled with the trick, needing complex dross constructs of amazing difficulty to duplicate the simple capabilities Gilgamesh found within himself.

“No, thank you, Gilgamesh.  I don’t get many visitors here, and I could hardly turn down an admirer, even if he can’t tell real art from a velvet Elvis.  Now remember, your dross constructs should be beautiful.  Works of art.  Not engineering blueprints.”

“Engineering blueprints
are
beautiful.”

“Hah.  You just take care of yourself.  You’ll make a fine Guru if you can keep from getting yourself killed.”

Gilgamesh looked away, unsure of himself.  “So, even though I’m not so good with the standard Guru-level dross constructs, do you think I’ve learned enough?”

“You’ll do fine.  If you traipse all over the country with a Beast Man, or a Noble, or whatever you call him, and fix Sinclair, you’ll be more of a Guru than half the Gurus we already have.  Intricate dross constructs aren’t everything.  Just show a little restraint sometimes.  You’ll live longer.”

“Thank you, Merlin.  For everything.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.  You’ve learned too much flattery from your giant friend here.  But listen.  Thomas the Dreamer’s people should be safe for you.  That means Rumor and Vizul Lightning besides myself.  But Chevalier’s people will all be trouble, and it’s not clear whether the second Mentor who cast Sinclair out was Arpeggio or Snow.  That means stay far away from Pokeweed and Phobos, and be very careful if you talk to Zirkil or Hephaestus.”

“Thank you,” Gilgamesh nodded, sad.  Save for Snow, he once counted the other Crows Merlin mentioned as his friends.

“Now go.  Write letters.  I want to hear all about your progress.”

“I will.”

Gail Rickenbach: July 14, 1972 – July 15, 1972

Sleep didn’t fully flee when Gail awoke, flying from her bed.  By the time her body thumped up to the wall, though, her eyes were open.  Eyes open, she faced the most terrifying excuse for a woman she had ever encountered.  Adrenaline from the nose-to-nose confrontation cleared away her last vestiges of sleep.

“Time to wake up, little Focus,” the woman said, with a predatory smile.  Carol Hancock.  Arm.  The Commander.

“Carol?  What do you want?” Gail said, whispering around the Arm’s hand on her neck.  Over in the bed, Van sat up to see the bare shadows of the confrontation.

“Oh, fuck,” he said.  Her husband hated extreme chaos and any form of anarchy, and when the Arms took an interest in Gail, they both inevitably ensued.

The Arm ignored him and smiled wider at Gail, who remained pinned to the wall.  “You’re going to do exactly what I tell you, aren’t you, little Focus?”

Gail nodded quickly, still shocked and unnerved by the abrupt awakening.  This wasn’t how the other kinds of Major Transforms normally dealt with her.  Arms and Nobles were unfailingly polite, and the Crows always treated her like royalty.  This wasn’t just impolite, this was insane!

“You, Van.  I’m taking your wife here away from you.  I’ll give her back eventually.”  Van gulped.  Gail’s stomach churned when she realized the Commander knew the name of her husband.  “In the meantime, you just sit tight and wait.  Put ‘Deal with the Commander’ down on your duty roster under ‘Gail’.”  She wriggled and shrank back, or attempted to, when she realized the Commander knew not only that Van was the current household leader, but also how he ran things.  Well, this explained what the Commander had been doing for the past week.  “Don’t even think about doing anything stupid.”

Gail’s heart raced in stark terror at the Arm predator effect.  Being an Arm’s prey was a new and unwanted experience.

Van nodded, caught in the grip of the same predator effect holding Gail.  The Arm eased her grip on Gail’s neck but didn’t back away.  Gail settled down to her tiptoes.  She coughed and tried to gather her wits and found that she had to look up several inches to see into Carol’s eyes.  Again she attempted to back away, but she found no room to escape.

The Arm stroked gently along Gail’s cheek with her other hand, and slowly licked her lips.  Gail damned near pissed herself.  The Arm smiled and whispered “Come with me.”

Gail nodded.  The Arm picked her up and carried her like a baby, her head held tight against the Arm’s neck.  The Arm took Gail into the next room, and sat down on the living room couch in Gail’s small apartment, still holding the Focus in her arms.  Gail tried to wiggle loose once the Arm sat down, but the Arm didn’t relax her grip, and Gail found herself embarrassingly stuck.

Carol Hancock was a tall woman, unnaturally gaunt, with the well-developed muscles of a professional male athlete, nothing like Stacy’s male body-builder physique and presence.  Her lean and long face held hungry blue eyes and bloodless pale lips, topped by mouse-blonde hair cut very short.  Her juice structure remained as beautiful, alluring, and entrancing as ever.

Today, utterly terrifying, as well.

Like any Arm, the Commander was a predator.  A predator who preyed on human beings, but a predator Gail owed her life to.  Time to be polite.  “Can I get up now, ma’am?” Gail said.  The Arm didn’t say anything and didn’t let her go.  Instead, she stroked Gail’s face again, gently touching eyes and cheeks and mouth, carefully brushing Gail’s long hair back from her face.  Gail shivered at the touch, but the Arm didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m going to train you,” the Arm said, never stopping her gentle stroking.  “Teach you so you can give me juice.  First, I’m going to give you physical training, because everything works better when your body is in peak condition.  Then you’re going to learn how to move juice for real.  Later, you’re going to learn some advanced capabilities, and in the process we’ll figure out how you can give me juice.  I’m also going to teach you a few other things I believe Focuses should know.  When you finish my training, you really will deserve to wear that big red ‘S’ on your chest.”

This matched up with Tonya’s orders, if she ignored the hyperbole, so Gail nodded.  Still, she wished the Commander would let her down and back away.  The Arm was far too close.  Gail’s stomach knotted up tight at the smell of her, and at that invasive dangerous touching.