Except for the growing pile of dead orcs being built by some townspeople after last night's attack, the ever-present stench wafting from the open gates of the walled city, and the fact that they still had no way to get back to civilization, it was a nice day. All four crew members of the experimental spaceship Brane Child were outside, if not exactly enjoying the early morning sun and gentle breeze, then at least appreciative of the fact that things could be worse. They weren't adrift in space and it wasn't raining.
Lisa made a cursory inspection of the floodlight assemblies stacked in the shade under the belly of the ship. Sims had completed their fabrication overnight, and now the drones were digging trenches to bury the electrical cables needed to power them. They should be operational by tonight. She did not know how much of a deterrent the lights would be to the orcs, but she hoped they would at least delay another attack until she could come up with an idea for stopping them for good.
Doc had wandered off to try to chat with some of the natives going in and out of the gates. From what she could see, they seemed willing to talk. He was currently having a conversation some distance away with a small group of women, one of whom was holding a small pig that sat placidly in her arms like a baby, blissfully unaware of its future role as part of a hearty breakfast. Sandra, confident that Milton would bring them a washtub, was stringing a clothesline between two of the ship's landing struts.
"This is seriously depleting our stock of materials," Lisa said ostensibly to Brax. He was standing next to her, and from the grin on his face, he seemed to be enjoying the archaic setting. It was all just a game to him, but she had to take it seriously. She had to get them home.
"We can recover most of it when we leave and have Sims reprocess it back into stock, but yeah, you're right. Let's try not to break anything else. Fortunately, fuel's not a problem. We had full tanks when we left, and our fusion reactors were overhauled for the mission. They're pretty efficient."
She glanced up at the wall where soldiers looked down with expressions that were more than curious. They seemed anxiously hopeful, and she got the impression they were counting on her. She shook her head. Her overdeveloped sense of responsibility was kicking in again. She really needed to get over that. Not everything was her problem.
"Have you given any more thought to the orc's head bad guy, assuming there is one?"
Brax shrugged. "There must be. My top contenders are lich, vampire, and evil wizard, but I really don't know."
"Do you know how stupid that sounds?"
"What?"
"That we're trying to figure out a way to defeat a vampire or whatever. It's like we're the heroes in some stupid fantasy adventure story."
"Yeah, but we're setting up floodlights to chase away orcs, and I bet that would have sounded stupid to you a few days ago."
"To be honest, it still does."
"I suppose it doesn't really make much sense, but we're here, and it feels real enough. I don't see that we have much choice but to assume it is and go along with it."
"Play our roles, you mean."
"Yeah, pretty much." He smiled. "At least we're the good guys."
She sighed. "You don't know how difficult this is for me. Deep down, I can't get over the belief that none of this is real. Too much is simply…wrong."
"Well, that thing about the sensor range is a puzzler, that's true."
"No, I mean yes, it is, but dragons? Orcs? Come on. Even the people."
"They seem normal enough."
"That's the problem. If this is some other planet far from Earth, how did humans get here? I'm not buying parallel evolution, not to that level of detail, and even if I stretched my credulity…. Brax, these people speak English. That is simply impossible."
He shrugged. "Why? We do."
"Yes, but the evolution of cultural things like language can happen quickly," she said, wondering why she even needed to explain this to him. It was so obvious! "Species can continue for thousands, even millions of years without a lot of physical change if they're in a suitable and stable environment, but languages begin to diverge after a few generations. Those city walls must be a least a couple of centuries old."
"I agree. So?"
"So even if the ancestors of these people were—oh, I don't know—abducted by aliens or something from one of the English speaking countries on Earth, they shouldn't be speaking our kind of English. But they do. They don't talk like people from the Middle Ages. They don't even talk like people from a few hundred years ago. They talk like us. They don't even have strange accents, and they use words that I'm sure didn't even exist when people on Earth were running around with swords and armor."
"Well, okay. I agree. It's odd, but we still need to stop the orcs."
She sighed again. "So it seems. We need to do that to get the palladium, and besides, I rather feel I owe it to the people here to do the best we can. I think they're counting on us." She paused as possible strategies took tentative form in her mind. "The ship is flightworthy now. What if we flew it over the orc's camp and just hovered above it for a while? I bet that would scare them."
"I agree. It would. But they'd just go underground and come back up when we left, I bet. Milton said they have tunnels."
"Yeah, you're probably right. What about our maintenance drones? We can send in the drones and record what they find."
He shook his head. "I don't think they'd last long. The drones are tough, but there are a lot of orcs out there, and I don't think our drones would scare them for long. They aren't big or nasty enough. The orcs may be mindlessly persistent enough to batter them to bits, and we don't want to lose them."
"Do you think we could build military grade robots? We must have specs for some in the data banks."
"Not armed ones. We won't have designs for weapons on a ship like this. They're not the kind of thing a cargo ship would need—normally. We may have specs for commercial surveillance drones, but they'd take a while to make, assuming we have the materials. They're probably a bit more complicated than lampposts."
Sandra approached them, dusting her hands together in a 'that's a job well-done' fashion.
"That's the clothesline," she said. "Now we just need our little magician to conjure us up a washtub."
"I'm sure he will," Brax said.
"Me, too." Sandra looked around his shoulder and smiled.
"And here comes the last of our brave band of adventurers. Hi, Doc. Did you learn anything interesting from the natives?"
The oldest member of their crew joined them, a bemused expression on his dark face.
"Perhaps. These people seem to have very little knowledge of geography or history. Given their apparent level of technology, this may not be surprising, but other than the names of a few towns along the river, they know nothing of what lies beyond their city. And that is all they know—just the names. They are unable to provide anything that would distinguish them from one another, or from their own city, for that matter. Also, as far as they know, their ancestors have always been here and things in the past were much the same as things of today."
"Isn't that what most people thought in the Middle Ages?" Brax said.
"I can't know for sure, of course, but I would think they would have had a somewhat better grasp of the world around them. They would probably have heard of ancient Rome, for example, or of some recent discovery in Paris or Madrid. These people not only don't know; they are not even curious. Of course, that may not be that odd either, now that I come to think of it. Until the Renaissance, curiosity was often considered a fault. But much of that was due to enforced dogma, which they seem not to have here. Some, like our friend Milton, for example, do seem to have some freedom of inquiry."
"Speaking of our skinny friend," Sandra said, "here he comes. And he's bringing us a washtub!"
"And some other stuff," Lisa added.
Milton carried two long objects wrapped in cloth, which he held tightly to his chest. Two men with him carried a large wooden washtub, and three more followed beh
ind them with buckets.
"Good morning, Milton" Lisa said. "Was anyone hurt in the attack last night?"
"Hello, Commander Chang. No, well, just some orcs. The rest ran away when you cast your fire spells from your…your ship."
One of the men with him mumbled something in his ear.
"Oh, right. Where would you like them to put the tub you asked for?"
She pointed. "Over there would be fine. Sandra will show them."
He lowered his voice. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but do you need it to conjure a spell or to concoct a magical potion?"
She laughed. "No, we need it to do our laundry."
He smiled knowingly and tapped the side of his nose. "Of course you do. You need say no more. To be honest, I'm not sure I'd understand if you did. My progress in the mystical arts is not proceeding as quickly as I had hoped. However, I was able to get the crystal ball to work last night. Strangely, it began to behave as it should just after you left."
"It did?" As far as Lisa was concerned, it behaved the way it should have while they were there. It just sat on the table like a big paperweight.
"Yes. I can't explain why it didn't before, but magic can be like that. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't."
"What did you see?" Brax asked.
"Not much, I'm afraid. Just a bunch of orcs camped in the hills. They had huts, fire pits, and normal orc things like that. I didn't see their leader, and the crystal ball I used doesn't have clairaudience, so I couldn't hear anything. I did see caves, though, so the leader may be in one of them."
"Thanks for the tub, Milton," Sandra said. "The nice people you brought with you are filling it for us now from what they assure me is a clean well. So what else do you have for us?" She pointed to the large objects he clutched in his hands.
"Ah, yes. These are the things from the king."
He began to unburden himself but Lisa stopped him.
"Why don't we go inside?" she said. "We can all sit down and talk. Besides, I need another cup of coffee."
"Are you sure we should bring Milton in the ship?" Brax asked.
"Why not?" Before he could answer, she added, "If you were about to mention the Prime Directive or something, I’m going to punch you. I’m not even convinced any of this is real—well, really real." A part of her suspected that the BS device had somehow scrambled their brains and now they were all sharing a dream, but no matter how much she pinched herself, she couldn't wake from it.
Brax pointed to Milton's feet. "Actually, I was thinking of the, uh, street residue. I'm not sure how well he'd react to decontamination."
Lisa looked at the 'mud' on the young magician's shoes.
"Milton, take off your boots and leave them out here. That should be enough. If you're carrying plague or anything like that, we've probably caught it already anyway."
Milton fumbled with his footwear while the crew headed up the ramp and into the ship. Lisa waited for him at the inner door of the airlock, and then led him to the galley where she got herself a cup of coffee.
"Can I get you something?" she asked. "I think we have tea, and maybe something remotely resembling cookies." She had to ask him again because he seemed distracted or in awe of the things around him, which here in the galley were just a small table and some chairs as far as Lisa could see, and they were far from impressive. The kindest word for their design would be 'efficient'.
"Oh, no, thanks. I really need to present you with these—"
"The things your king is loaning us for the mission, right?"
"Yes, exactly. Master Ferman told me to formally present them in the name of King Genrex and the City of Bardasium, and that they have full confidence—"
"I think I get the idea. No need to go on."
"Actually, I had to memorize a speech they wanted me to—"
"Don't worry about that," Lisa said. "I suppose we may as well see what you brought."
Doc held up his hand. "Just a moment, if I may, Commander."
"Yes, Doc?"
"Milton, you said these things are magical, is that right?"
"Well, yes. Quite. They all came from the royal treasure vaults. They possess some extremely potent magic."
"In that case, Commander, I'd like to bring these items to the medical bay. It is the closest thing we have to a laboratory. Sims can use the equipment there to check the items for power signatures and radiation. It might reveal something."
Lisa shrugged. "I don't see why not, and there is more room there than here in the galley, too. Good idea."
"So, what do you think of the ship, Milton?" Sandra asked him as they made their way down the corridor.
"It's amazingly clean, but, well, it's smaller than I imagined and not as grand. No offense meant, of course. It is still very impressive."
"It was originally a cargo ship," Brax told him. "The living areas are compact to leave as much space as possible for the holds. And of course the smaller size makes everything easier to get to, especially when we're in zero g."
Milton returned a puzzled look. "Where is 'zero g'?"
Brax laughed. "Almost everywhere. It's the place between places, and, for the most part, there's nothing much to see there. Don't worry about it."
"The place between places?" Lisa said. "What kind of explanation is that?"
"How would you describe gravity in a way people here would understand? I'm pretty sure they have no counterpart of Einstein or even Newton."
He had a point. Milton might be able to grasp the inverse square law, after some lengthy explanation, but curved space-time was probably beyond him. To be honest, the concept still confused her.
The door to the medical bay stood open as usual. Lights on panels imbedded in the walls blinked in white, yellow, and green. Milton took in all of it with a look of stunned fascination.
"You can unload your stuff there," Lisa said, pointing to the thinly padded exam table.
Milton carefully placed the items he was holding on the table and began to loosen their wrappings.
"Sims," Doc said, "please scan all of the items being placed on this table. Be ready with a brief analysis when called for."
"Acknowledged," the ship's AI replied.
Milton looked around the room in alarm. "Who was that?" he asked.
"Oh, that's just Sims," Sandra reassured him. "It's kind of like, um, well…"
"You can think of Sims as the invisible spirit of the ship," Brax said. "It's nothing to worry about."
Milton's nervous glances persisted a moment longer, but eventually he returned to what he came to do.
"This," he said, revealing the largest item, "is a staff of curing for Doc. It has twelve charges and can be used up to eight times a day, but only once on any one person during that time. It can cure disease and injuries either in part or completely, depending on severity. The command word is 'heal'."
"Sims, analysis please," Doc said.
"The item is a carved pole apparently made of oak of the genus Quercus, although further analysis would be needed to confirm the species. It is one hundred seventy-seven point eight centimeters long and eight point twenty-five centimeters in circumference at its widest point. Approximate age is—"
"Stop," Doc said. "Are you detecting any hidden mechanism, electromagnetic radiation, or anything else from this object that appears anomalous?"
"No."
"Okay. I'm sorry, Milton. Please continue."
"Um, this sword is obviously for Brax," he said, sliding it part way from its scabbard. "It is enchanted with a Protection from Evil dweomer."
"Cool!" Brax said.
"Dweomer?" Sandra asked.
Milton opened his mouth to respond, but Sims answered first.
"Dweomer is a word used in some role-playing games to indicate the type of magic embodied within an enchanted item. The asserted properties attributed to this object cannot be confirmed using available equipment. Scanners are detecting no radiation of any kind from either the sword o
r the matching scabbard."
Milton raised his eyebrows in a silent request for permission to move on. Lisa nodded.
The next item he unwrapped was much softer.
"This is a cloak of elvenkind for Sandra. When you close the clasp and pull up the hood, the person wearing it can’t be seen, well, outside anyway. It doesn’t work as well in places with flat walls."
He held out the cloak and gave it a shake to unfold it. Lisa had to admit that it appeared well made, and she liked the metal clasp shaped like entwined vines.
"Sims?" Doc said.
"The garment is a full length hooded cloak of fine grade flax linen colored with a dye apparently derived from vegetable roots. A more detailed chemical analysis would be needed to confirm this. The clasp appears to be pewter. No radiation or other anomalous characteristics are indicated."
"You may continue," Doc said to Milton.
He opened a small wooden box. "This last item is for Commander Chang. It is a ring of Spell Turning. It requires no command. It activates when a spell or curse is directed against her. Most often, it will deflect it, but in some cases, it can cause the spell to rebound against the attacker."
"Sims, analysis."
"The item is an unornamented ring, six point twenty-five millimeters in width and with an inside diameter of fifteen point seven millimeters. Composition appears to be seventy-five percent gold and twenty-five percent silver. No radiation or other anomalous readings are detected."
"That's everything," Milton said. "Do you have any questions?"
"Is there anything special I should know about this," Brax said picking up the sword.
"Um, no. The dweomer functions continuously."
"Don't swing that thing in here!" Sandra said. "You'll put somebody's eye out."
"Yes, mom," he said, feigning humility but sheathing the sword. "Try on the cloak. Let's see how it looks on you."
Sandra batted her big brown eyes at him and grinned with mock mischief. "I'm sure it looks fabulous on me, big guy. Just like everything else."
She wasn't exaggerating overly much. Even Lisa, who was strictly heterosexual, recognized that Sandra could turn heads.
The communications officer flipped up the hood and closed the clasp with an audible click.
Brax reacted immediately. "That's amazing!"
"I wouldn't go that far," Lisa said. "It's nice, but it's hardly stunning."
"But you can barely see her! She's practically invisible."
"Ha-ha. Very funny. She's right there." Lisa pointed. "Sometimes, Brax, your sense of humor borders on irritating."
"Oh, it crosses that border often," Sandra said.
"You're both kidding, right? I'm telling you, I can see right through her," Brax insisted.
Lisa saw Milton nodding, and she turned and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Milton, tell me honestly because if you lie to me, I'll…I'll turn you into a frog. What do you see?"
An involuntary gulp caused his overly large Adam's apple to bounce like a nervous Ping-Pong ball. "I swear it's good magic, Commander Chang. I wouldn't lie to you. The cloak appears to be functioning as promised. I can see a haze where Sandra is standing, but that's because we're inside and there's good light. Other than that, she's pretty much invisible."
No she isn't! Lisa could see her clearly. Was everyone else going blind?
"Sandra, you can see yourself, right? If you hold up your arm, you can see it, can't you?"
Sandra did and she could.
"That's how it should be," Milton explained. "The cloak does not alter the self-perception of the wearer."
As far as Lisa could tell, it shouldn't alter anyone's perception. It was just a gray cloak. She needed a wiser opinion.
"Doc?"
He squinted, which made Lisa a little nervous.
"I can see her," Doc said, "but to be honest, she seems a bit distorted. It's hard to explain, and rather confusing."
Okay, how about an objective opinion? Fortunately, there was one available.
"Sims?"
"Yes, Commander?"
"Can you see Sandra Suarez in this room?"
"Yes, Commander."
"Are you getting any odd readings from her?"
"No, Commander. Her bio readings all fall within acceptable norms."
"No electromagnetic distortions or anything like that surrounding her?"
"None that are detectable by the sensor equipment currently available."
Lisa found this reassuring insofar as it meant that she had not joined those who had detoured from the road of reality. But why had they?
She walked behind Sandra and held up two fingers behind the communication officer's back.
"Brax, how many fingers am I holding up?"
"Two," Brax said.
So either it was a good guess or it wasn't just an illusion of some kind. She tried again with a different test subject.
"Doc, how many fingers?"
"I'm not sure. Sandra is blocking my view."
"Three," Milton said.
Damn, he was right. Lisa searched her mind for a logical explanation and found none.
"Milton?" Doc said.
"Yes?"
"How would orcs perceive this?"
"The cloak? The same way people do." He glanced nervously at Lisa. "Well, most people."
"Interesting."
One of the machines in the medical bay made a pinging sound, interrupting Lisa's thoughts.
"Ah, the test I was running must be ready," Doc said. "I need to check the results."
"I think we're done here, anyway," Lisa said. "Come on, Milton. It's time for you to go home."