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 have retrieved Tom from an island on the Sunless Sea and are hovering
in our good aiship, the Pudgie Budgie, contemplating our next move. We
might want to go help the Black Mage, since we thought we glimpsed his
minions being attacked by our common foes, the probably-draconian grey
ninjas. On the other hand, it was while poking about just such an event
that Tom encountered whatever catastrophe threw him out of the pantope,
mirror reversed him, and left the pantope omniports floating in limbo,
whence we have only now retrieved them.
We decide we're tired of limbo ourselves and want to go back to some
place before trying anything else with the omniports. Hauling the
non-physical omniports with us through the grey murk takes some
persistent attention, but we manage.
Eventually, some cliffs start to appear and Kate's back-tracker compass
once more shows a pointer (to everyone; Robbie was always able to see
it).
Now that we are in slightly more normal conditions, Robbie asks Salimar
to examine him psychically. Interesting. She can't detect him as a
lifeform; he's just not there. In terms of general psi signatures, he's
a dazzle of something both very simple and very complex -- something
that makes her think of fractal geometry or mathematical chaos theory.
Robbie asks Tom to look him over. Tom tries a telepathic audit, as deep
as he can go, and is startled to find nothing down at the subconscious
level. He, too, tries a general look at psi signatures, and is likewize
dazzled by what appear to be infinite regresses of psi cast by psi cast
by psi...
Turning the tables a little, Salimar asks Robbie to watch as she uses
her Third Sight, to see if he can detect it, but he can't.
Tom's brief exertion has tired him. He's still recovering from the
desert island. And he's still mirror-reversed. Robbie has the autodoc
run off some K rations made of reversed sugars and amino acids. It
complies, grumbling.
By now, we are almost entirely back in a place, hovering before the
cliffs of the Back of Beyond. Through the gloaming, Dafnord can pick
out the shapes of the rocks and can tell we're getting near the place
where we met the Purifier. Soon, he spots the Purifier himself.
Robbie feels it would be only polite to talk to him, to tell him we
succeeded, thanks to his help. And maybe he could then put Robbie back
in his body, or even mirror-flip Tom? But as he takes off, Salimar gets
a Bad Feeling premontion, very strongly, and we call him back. Maybe
the Purifier shouldn't be interrupted now. Maybe that's not really him
out there, but someone we don't want to meet. Anyway, Robbie turns
back.
Flying back the way we came, we're soon in the region where the oddly
rectilinear cliffs come down to the oddly glittering and transparent
sand. Markel spots a dark blot on the sand. Dafnord discerns a
humanoid figure, and Robbie launches second sight to look it over. =20
It's a grey ninja, not moving but at the end of a long trail of bloody
sand leading back into the cliffs. Robbie flies out in person, encases
the body in ectoplasm, and returns with it to the ship. (Unnervingly,
he starts to fade off the telepathy net as he gets farther away.) Close
examination shows the fangs and costume of a typical grey ninja. He's
clearly dead, from a major wound in the chest.
Salimar does retrocognition on the body, to learn its recent history.
He was sneaking along the crags with half a dozen others of his kind,
when he saw a ship up in the air. There was a lance of bright light
that struck him. Everything went black. (He must have recovered later,
only to crawl out here and die.) The ship in the air looked like a
sailing ship, not like our blimp-like Pudgie Budgie.
Something is clearly up with these grey ninjas, but we don't feel up to
facing it yet. We sail toward home for another half-day, as near as we
can tell in this unchanging twilight. When things are a bit more
natural, we might play with the omniports and try to fix them. Then we
might take a shortcut home, through a gate.
After a while, the cliffs look more naturalistic and there's ocean, with
no beach, below us. Keeping an eye out for grey ninjas, Robbie spies a
figure working along the cliff faces, going toward the Back of Beyond.
On inspection, it's Mirien!
Robbie flies out to meet her, sending an eye and telepathic contact
ahead of him. Both fail. Mirien has some sort of wards up, against the
telepathy, and she's trapped the eye. Robbie settles for floating a few
yards away and waving.
Puzzled by his translucent appearance, Mirien calls back, "Robbie?" She
apologizes and tosses his eye back to him. Soon, she's aboard the
Pudgie Budgie, getting updated on developments, such as Robbie's
disembodiment and Tom's dimensional misadventures. She, too, was
looking for Tom. She must have left before our return to Lanthil, and
we've overtaken her, either by moving faster or by the elastic nature of
time out here.
Mirien puzzles over Tom's mirror-reversal and that of one of the
omniports. You look through it and see your mirror image looking back,
only it isn't an image, it's you, regarded the other way around through
a dimensional twist. She prods her image/self with a finger, but she
doesn't touch glass; her fingertip touches itself. Weird, even by our
standards.
Robbie considers that her finger gets in its own way, but he is
intangible. He tries walking through himself and succeeds effortlessly.
Ta-da! He's mirror-reversed! Prudently, he then walks back, to
un-reverse.
Tom wonders if he could do that, by using heavy-duty glamour to become
intangible rather than by getting disembodied. =20
Salimar tries prodding her finger, the way Mirien did, but lets it melt
into itself, experimentally. This turns out to be a mistake. As we
quietly sail back toward home, and those people who sleep do so, Salimar
becomes more and more convinced that she's sick -- poisoned. Some of
her biochemicals have mixed and gotten mirror-reversed, and it's NOT
agreeing with her.
She resorts to the autodoc, which knows about her alien biochemistry,
and has it set up a filter. She feeds herself in, deciliter at a time,
coming out another hose, plop plop plop, into her bucket -- her old
steel one. She holds herself together telepathically, where necessary.
Soon, she's all in the bucket, except for a little wad of toxic trouble.
She pops it into a sample jar for later reference.
Morning, or at least waking, comes. Tom feels somewhat better. He
glamours himself intangible and walks through the flipped omniport. It
works! He's no longer reversed. Gratefully, he settles down to an
ordinary breakfast.
Updated: 7-Oct-06
©1984, 1994, 2005 Earl Wajenberg. All Rights Reserved.
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