New Blood Logs:
Tom Noon's Tale
NewEuropa
In Chaos
Voyages of the Nones
Meanwhile...
Destine
Mother Goose Chase
Ancient Oz
Varkard
Adventures of the Munch
Lanthil & Beyond
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We left our heroes freshly rid of a dragontrooper, whose telepathic
audit showed us how little use it was to interrogate his kind.
Re-winding our pantope window, we look over the four officer types in
the convoy where we got the dragontrooper. They, alas, get solidly
blown away and so are not available for questioning.
We left events progress and see that the gunfight continues for some
time. Leaving them to it, we look the city over for more interrogation
victims. While we do this, we wonder about defenses if we should pick
up someone psychic. The obvious defense is a psilencer. How well do
they work in the pocket universe of the Emerald Metaphor?
Dafnord pulls out his personal psilencer and turns it on. He does not
drop off the telepathy net. And a faint globe of something like heat
shimmer springs up around him. When he speaks aloud, his voice is
faintly muffled. Tom conjures a stick of ectoplasm and pokes at the
shimmering interface. There are faint sparks as the stick goes through,
but it survives the penetration, as it normally would not. The boundary
itself pokes in a little, as if it were a rubbery membrane.
At this point, Gannar, the spacehand android, notes that the background
radiation level has risen a little. (In fact, now that he considers it,
one of the oddities of this pantope is that its usual background
radiation level is flat zero, unlike normal places.)
The gargoyle prods the psilence sphere, with no numbing effects such as
he would normally expect. And Tom can use TK in it, albeit with a
slight wobble.
Dafnord now notices that the bubble is starting to glitter, and Gannar
says the background radiation is continuing to rise. Dafnord therefore
decides to turn off the psilencer and go visit the house autodoc (which
says he's fine, except for this little broken bone in his wrist, which
he never even knew he had).
Back in the Metaphor, Tom experiments a bit more. He tries his personal
telepathic shields. They work fine. He turns the psilencer back on and
feels around inside its field. Something is vaguely wrong. And getting
worse. He turns it off again.
Okay, so psilencers don't work in the Metaphor. Dafnord points out we
can always just stun our victims and haul them through into Hellene,
where psilence works just fine.
We go back to hunting high-ranking dragontroopers. Looking over various
groups, we spot some guys who might be "sergeants" or the equivalents,
but no one of much higher rank.
We pick out an office building that is not a scene of battle, bring the
window in, and cautiously turn it into a door. Gannar, Robbie, and
Salimar step out. The two AIs sample the radio spectra. There's a lot
of "static" that isn't really random enough. We suppose it to by
encrypted transmissions by the dragontroopers. Salimar feels out the
probabilities, seeking a compass point where we could best go hunting
for knowledgable enemies. Nothing. Anywhere.
This confirms something we were wondering, in light of the audit we just
did. These guys are so focused and unquestioning, so, uh robot-like
(sorry, Robbie), that no one down here on the ground is going to know
anything useful. They just obey orders. The nearest knowledgable types
will probably be on the bridges of those huge starships that dropped
through the dimensional gateways between Destine and its moon. And
they'll be very hard to sneak up on, or abduct without drawing
attention.
We close the connection to Destine. Tom tries dowsing for the six
Destino fighters we dropped off. He gets nothing. Salimar tries, too,
and likewise fails, but she suspects its because they are no longer
together.
Okay, we'll pick one of them. We use the bloody rags from the autodoc
to home in on a human-looking fellow we knew only as "Ruis." Tom tries
again, and the window opens, a little slowly, on a forest scene.
Green-filtered light. It looks a bit like a redwood forest or a
temperate rainforest, dampish. It does not look particularly
extraterrestrial, which is a little odd in a way. There is not sign of
Ruis, but the cat points out a path.
Tom steers the window down the path -- a bit jerkily. Local psi
conditions are a bit "hyper" and tend to exaggerate the window's
movements. Eventually, we come to a little clearing. There are a lot
of small mounds here, at regular intervals. Graves. Oh, damn.
Looking about, Robbie spots several more paths into this graveyard.
Salimar notices that, of the twenty-three graves, half a dozen have
little lumps at one end. Headstones? They don't look new. She feels
about for Ruis, but gets nothing. There's a sort of background hum to
the local psi.
Disconsolately, we record the local coordinates, break off, and try
again. This time we try Greywolf, the fellow who gave us, as his token,
a little leather bag he'd had all his life, warning us not to open it.
Tom does his best to open on Greywolf sooner rather than later, so as
not to encounter another grave.
We open on woods again, but on hilly ground, with lots of underbrush.
Once again, we see no one. At first. Suddenly, the brush is hacked
aside by a large, bald black man, in tatters, with a machete. Greywolf
comes dodging out from behind him, out of the brush, and drops to one
knee, facing back along the path, a bow at the ready. He's shirtless
and wearing a shaman-like necklace of bones. Two more men stumble out
of the brush, one with a bloody left shoulder, the other a second
archer. They keep glancing back, clearly feeling pursued.
We freeze frame and move back along their trail. (The navigation is
still touchy.) Markel advises on the tracking. We come to a river and
take the window aloft. We un-freeze and notice motion in the trees.
Coming down again, we find a mixed party. Very mixed.
One is an olive-green humanoid. He has rather too much muzzle for a
human, though, and his mouth is very wide, with pointy teeth. He's
wearing baggy black pants and boots, not tattered, and a heavy gold
necklace. He has a streak of red painted on his forehead. He carries a
metal-tipped spear. Which is he point, in an indicative way, at our
window.
We freeze-frame again, and look around for more people. The first we
encounter is technically more humanoid than Mr. Olive-Green, but he
looks like a classic caveman -- squat, semi-erect, naked and very hairy,
with heavy brow ridges. He wears a collar of dark metal. There are
some more olive-greens, all clothed to some degree or another. One has
an ornately carved staff. The others have spears and swords. Standing
a bit apart is a saurian, like the ones we saw running the comm console
aboard the dragontrooper fighter. It wears lots of metal accessories.
We could be looking at high technology, magic, or a mixture.
We click back to the place and moment where we left Greywolf and his
friends. We resume normal time. We open the door. Robbie calls,
"Greywolf? Over here!" They all wheel toward us, weapons at ready. The
injured one dives and the archer fires. He takes Robbie square in the
chest, narrowly missing his braincase. But Greywolf recognizes us,
waves the others down, and approaches.
After some natural hesitation, they enter the pantope. While Tom makes
reassuring noises, Robbie pulls the arrow out and promptly crashes.
Markel removes him to the robot garage, where the repair droids make
tut-tut noises and get to work. Dafnord, meanwhile, removes their
injured member to our autodoc for analogous attention.
Tom and Kate invite the others into the dining room and start feeding
them. They try to explain what is happening to the big black man, who
is named Obedan. He is confused, not sure whether to be relieved or
wary. Tom decides Salimar is a better choice for this and tries to turn
the conversation over to her. Obedan immediately gets all nervous and
deferential, addressing her as "Lady."
Greywolf, who's normally very quiet, steps in. He assures Obedan that,
though Salimar isn't human, she isn't draconian either. Obedan relaxes
again into mere confusion. Greywolf then explains to us that it's very
confusing for the other three, since they are not "first generation."
This is very awkward, since Obedan is his leader, but circumstances
require Greywolf to do a lot of the talking.
So it seems that, though Tom tried to be early, a lot of time has still
gone by.
Greywolf confirms this; he's more than doubled his age since he saw Tom
last (though he doesn't look it -- must have nephil blood), and has
served Obedan's great-grandfather.
Then Markel comes in and Obedan tenses up again. Markel looks just as
human as Salimar, and hasn't even been known to shift shape, but he is
a "dragonrider," and claims to have draconian blood in him. Obedan's
reaction would seem to confirm this. Greywolf reassures his leader,
then explains that noting non-humans is a knack Obedan has. It would be
fascinating to try him on Katrina, but she's not in the room.
Greywolf can't give us very much history. The human types have been on
the run too long and too fast to bother with history for the last few
generations. He tells us that the dragontroopers have apparently
scattered the Destinos through time as well as space, in whatever world
it is. And they probably get folk from other worlds, as well, we
suppose, recalling that other planet we found.
Another thing that makes Obedan and the other edgy is that we live in a
"palace" like the draconians, unlike the huts used by the small,
scattered human communities. However, the draconians don't use high
technology, at least not in the area Greywolf knows. There are high
towers to the north, which might be different.
Greywolf apologizes for not gathering better intelligence for us. He
does know that there are many races of draconians, and they dominate the
humanoids. Some, they even domesticate, like that cave-man type. He
has not met many other first-generation Destinos there, though there was
Desmond. Desmond arrived about seven hundred years before he did, and
assume all the humans of that world originated from Destine.
We ponder the size of this mess and once more wonder why the
draconians (at least the hi-tech ones) are doing this. Greywolf says
Desmond had several theories, but his favorite was that the humans were
put in to challenge the draconians, keep them on their toes, as sparring
partners, so to speak.
We resolve to look up this Desmond, along with Hector, Jason, and the
other Destinos we've met.
And we probably need to take this enormous mess to Vinyagaerond. Won't
Daewen be pleased.
Updated: 7-Oct-06
©1984, 1994, 2005 Earl Wajenberg. All Rights Reserved.
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