The Last Protector Read online

  Jape chuckled. “Only they know the difference."

  "I guess.” She polished off her bottle of Saturday Night Lightweight Ale. “Well, whatever that thing's called, I was thinking about how your friend here has a pretty nice butt under it."

  "Huh?” Scrornuck jerked upright, nearly spitting beer foam in Jape's face.

  "It was hard to miss.” She held her empty bottle like a sword grip and stood with her feet almost a yard apart. “I mean, you stood like this, and then you shook it—” She swung her hips back and forth. “What was I supposed to do, close my eyes?"

  Scrornuck's face was almost as red as his hair as he struggled to decide whether to take her remark as an insult, a compliment, or a proposition.

  After another round and some small talk, Jape handed Nalia a small slip of paper. “We might be able to help you find a job better than waiting on tables and fending off randy guardians of the populace. This is the location of a restaurant. The officer at the city gate said it's rather nice. We have a business proposition we'd like to discuss with you in the morning, say about eight?"

  "What kind of business?"

  "Nothing illegal, and nothing you'd be ashamed to tell your mother about. I'd say more, but I think we all need some sleep. Will you be there?"

  Nalia studied the paper. “Guest Quarter?” Her fingers played with a little bronze medallion hanging from her neck. “Will they let me in?"

  Jape handed her two large silver coins. “If there are any problems, give the guard one of these."

  "A silver piece as a tip?” she mumbled. “And the other one?"

  "An advance. There'll be more if we can work together."

  "We'll work together.” She stared greedily at the coins. “Anything I should bring?"

  "Comfortable walking shoes, and a change of clothes."

  They headed into the street, Nalia turning left and Jape and Scrornuck right. “See you tomorrow,” she said, jingling the silver pieces in her hand.

  Jape nodded politely. “See you in the morning."

  As they walked away, Scrornuck called over his shoulder, “By the way—I think yours is pretty nice, too!” He heard Nalia's laughter as she turned the corner and disappeared.

  After he and Jape had walked a few blocks through the narrow, winding streets, Scrornuck's curiosity got the best of him. “No shit, Sherlock?" he asked.

  "Hmm?” Jape said.

  "I saw you jump when she said that."

  "I didn't expect to hear it,” Jape said. “It's a bit out of character for a medieval serving wench, wouldn't you say?"

  "I guess."

  Jape stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I suspect some early Cast members picked it up from construction workers,” he mused. “Since UniFlag pulled the plug on this project before opening day, they never got around to scrubbing the anachronisms."

  "Uh-huh.” Scrornuck didn't fully understand Jape's explanation, but he grasped enough to see that Nalia's comment was no big deal. In fact, he rather liked the phrase. No shit, Sherlock, he thought. That just might be a keeper.

  They turned a corner. “So what's with the job offer?"

  "Did you notice anything about the way she handled those guys?"

  Scrornuck replayed the brawl in his mind. “Yeah—she seemed to know what they were going to do..."

  "—before they did it. The instruments say she's got the talent."

  "Cool.” They walked a bit further before another question entered Scrornuck's mind. “Think she's got a guy?"

  Jape stopped. “Mister Saughblade, do I detect romantic interest?"

  "Just curious."

  "Well, watch yourself.” Jape resumed his stroll. “I know you—curious becomes concerned, concerned becomes worried, next thing you know you've got a passionate crush going."

  Scrornuck shook his head. “She's the kind that breaks hearts, starts fights, gets people knifed..."

  "Just your type,” Jape said with a grin. “Remember what I've told you about getting involved with locals. We'll be out of here soon enough."

  Scrornuck sighed. “I remember. But still, do you think she's got a guy?"

  "We'll find out in the morning—assuming she shows up, of course."

  "Yeah. I'm kind of surprised you let her get away."

  "Things aren't urgent yet.” Jape held up his left hand. His fingers were encrusted with silver and gold rings, each bearing jewels which seemed to sparkle or glow with their own light. The most prominent ring sported a deep, reassuring green jewel.

  Scrornuck nodded. “Be nice if it stays that way. We could use a little vacation.” As he spoke, his eye was drawn to a flare of yellow light in the sky, and he looked up to see a dragon silhouetted against the crescent moon. It blew another ball of yellow flame, slowly turned to the south and glided into the distance. “Just what we need,” he muttered, instinctively resting a hand on his sword-grip.

  "Pretty, aren't they?” With a slight smile, Jape watched the dragon disappear. “UniFlag really did pull out all the stops on this project."

  They turned the corner under a sign that read STAGING STREET: TO TEMPLE SQUARE AND GUEST QUARTER, strolled a single block down the broad avenue and found themselves in the city center, an open plaza two full blocks on a side. A line of thirty-foot-tall concrete towers, which marched across the Cast Quarter and continued along the road to the west of the city, came to its end at the exact center of the Square. Workers had propped wooden ladders against the last two towers and were busily rigging a banner between them.

  "Hey, look at that—the corporate mascot!” Jape pointed to the shops lining the east and west sides of the Square, their windows filled with merchandise bearing the image of Spafu the Friendly Dragon. “Remember the first time I showed you one of his cartoons?"

  Scrornuck grinned—at the time, animated cartoons had been a whole new experience. “Yeah, I laughed my ass off. I still do.” He stopped to examine a knife that was prominently displayed in a shop's window. “Woo-hoo, that one's a beauty!” The knife sported a grip of fine black leather and silver, and a highly-polished, ten-inch blade engraved with detailed images of Spafu.

  "Looking for a souvenir already?” Jape asked.

  Scrornuck nodded. This knife would make a fine addition to his collection of weaponry. “We'll have to come back when the shops are open."

  "I suppose you're expecting me to pay for this?"

  "You've got the expense account."

  Jape sighed and moved on to the next store window, one filled with shirts and hats. “Would you look at that,” he said in a whisper that turned to a half-whistle.

  "What?” Scrornuck saw nothing remarkable about the merchandise.

  "It's all new!” Jape said. “According to the records, this project was shut down a hundred years ago.” He quickly looked in several more shop windows. “Furniture, shoes, clothing, every bit of it brand new! Where are they getting it?"

  "Same place they get the toilet paper, I suppose.” Scrornuck had already discovered that Taupeaquaah was well-stocked with this most consumable of consumer goods.

  "Support systems are still operating?” Jape's voice carried a tone of respect bordering on awe. “UniFlag really did build this place to last."

  Scrornuck turned to look at the Square's south side, dominated by Taupeaquaah's cartoonishly Gothic City Hall. He stroked his beard as he stared at the building's tall, white spire. Something seemed wrong about it.

  "Forced perspective,” Jape said, “The upper floors are only a few feet high, so the building looks taller than it really is. Nothing in this place is quite what it seems.” There was a touch of wonder in his voice as he gazed into the clear, star-filled sky. “Still, the weather's nice, food's great, and there's all this room. I could get to like living here."

  "Yeah, I could get used to a place like this.” Scrornuck turned slowly to take in the whole of the Square—and stopped abruptly as he faced the north side. “Bloody hell..."

  A white marble staircase nearly twenty fe
et high stretched from one side of the Square to the other, rising on either side of a semicircular porch to form the base of a grand, classical-Greek building. White colonnades thirty feet high made up the walls and front of the structure, and from its gently peaked roof a great stone dragon sprang out over the Square as if frozen in mid-leap. The dragon's outstretched wings sheltered the steps, and its leering head hung some forty feet above the stones of the Square. Thin wisps of smoke drifted from its nostrils.

  As Scrornuck and Jape watched, the workers unfurled their banner:

  SUMMER FORTNIGHT OF SACRIFICE BEGINS SUNDAY MORNING AT THE TEMPLE OF SPAFU!

  COME ONE, COME ALL!

  PRESENT YOUR OFFERINGS OF CLOTHING, FOOTWEAR AND FURNITURE TO THE FRIENDLY DRAGON!

  "Would you look at that!” Jape whispered.

  Scrornuck stared in disbelief. “Offerings?"

  Jape shrugged. “Spafu was UniFlag's mascot. I'd expect the Cast to show some respect for the corporate symbols."

  "Respect, nothing! Spafu belongs in a cartoon, not a bloody temple!"

  "Keep it down,” Jape said, seeing some heads turning their way. “We don't want to start a holy war."

  "Why not?"

  "Because we have work to do, Mister Saughblade.” Jape's voice carried a crisp tone of authority.

  "Yeah, right,” Scrornuck grunted angrily as he turned his back to the Temple. In an uneasy silence they crossed the Square, paid a small bribe to the guard and walked a few more blocks down the broad avenues of the Guest Quarter to find an inn where they could grab a few hours’ sleep.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  "Not Much There To Read"

  "Table for three,” Jape said cheerfully, as he and Scrornuck arrived at the rooftop pub to meet Nalia. The headwaiter snapped his fingers, and the gaily attired staff hurried off to prepare a table.

  Scrornuck leaned against the stone railing, taking in the view. A few puffy clouds punctuated the blue midsummer sky, and the morning sun lit the Guest Quarter and Temple Square in glorious gold. Beyond the Square, the smaller buildings and twisting streets of the Cast Quarter extended to the great white wall marking the edge of the city, and beyond the wall a yellow road wound across gently rolling plains to the horizon. In the distance, a few dragons rode the morning updrafts.

  Only one thing was missing. “Wonder where they put the rides,” he said.

  "Rides?"

  "Roller coasters, whirl-a-hurl, you know."

  "Beats me.” Jape pointed to the line of concrete towers alongside the yellow road. “Some other town, probably. I suspect those towers were supposed to support a monorail."

  "We'll have to go looking when we get done. You know how I love roller coasters."

  "Don't get your hopes too high. The rides might not have been installed yet—and even if they were, it's not likely they'd still be working."

  "I'll make ‘em work,” Scrornuck said confidently.

  With a discreet cough, the headwaiter interrupted their conversation. “Your table is ready.” He paused for a second, his eyes darting between Scrornuck's kilt and beard, before adding, “Sirs. This way, please.” As he led the procession to the table, Scrornuck could feel the headwaiter's eyes inspecting him, moving from the knee-high, fringed leather boots to the short, sleeveless jacket with its red-fabric armor and shoulder guards, to the waist-length mop of red hair, always returning to the red-with-brown-splotches kilt.

  They arrived at the table, and as Scrornuck and Jape took their seats, the headwaiter's curiosity finally got the best of him. “Sir,” he asked, staring at Scrornuck, “excuse my boldness, but are you wearing a skirt?"

  "It's a kilt. Where I come from, all the men wear them."

  "I see. If I may ask, what do your women wear?"

  "Skirts, of course."

  "Of course.” The headwaiter shook his head and walked away, muttering.

  Scrornuck and Jape looked at each other for a few seconds, and ear-to-ear grins slowly filled their faces. “Well,” Jape said at last, “at least he didn't ask what's underneath it."

  "Yeah, he's still got some manners.” Scrornuck pointed to the fourth chair at their table-for-three—an elaborately decorated throne, topped by the leering image of Spafu the Friendly Dragon. “What do you suppose that's about?"

  Jape shrugged. “We saw last night that the corporate mascot is a big deal here.” A moment later the server arrived, and Scrornuck turned his attention to more important matters, ordering a Strong Morning Ale and a glass of red wine.

  After ordering a cup of the restaurant's strongest tea, Jape pulled a rolled-up sheet of black material from a pocket of his cape and spread it on the tabletop. “Softscroll, activate,” he whispered, and within a few seconds the featureless surface came alive, displaying windows filled with words and pictures. He looked at one of the windows and sighed contentedly. Scrornuck knew that sigh, and busied himself with the morning newspaper while Jape read the message from his family.

  After a few minutes, Jape leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “Things are going well back home. That's a nice way to start the week.” He pushed the scroll aside. “Anything interesting in the paper?"

  "Spafu strips. They're pretty old, but they're still funny.” He flipped through the pages. “And this: Disappearances continue. Six missing persons reported in the last week. Almost fifty people, mostly Squatters and transients, have vanished in the last four months. What's a Squatter?"

  "Some kind of homeless person, I imagine."

  "Mayoral Guards report finding no signs of foul play or other clues."

  Jape shrugged. “There may not be any clues. Maybe they just wandered away."

  "Could be.” Scrornuck turned to the police reports. "Small disturbance at bar in the Cast Quarter. Gaudily attired stranger launches unprovoked attack on distinguished local citizens—unprovoked, my ass—Mayoral Guards dismiss rumors of magical weapons. Looks like we got noticed."

  "Couldn't be helped."

  The server arrived with drinks and a basket of rolls. Scrornuck set the paper aside, opened the studded leather sporran that hung from his belt, and pulled out a small book bound in well-worn, deep red leather. In contrast to its plain cover, the pages of the book were a work of art, their Latin and Gaelic text surrounded by elaborate illumination. He read a few passages in a voice just above a whisper, then reverently broke a roll in half, bit off a fair-sized chunk, and washed it down with the wine. A few more whispered passages completed the ritual. “Wish I could find a real church,” he said.

  "You could try that temple we saw last night,” Jape suggested.

  "Yeah, right.” Scrornuck watched Jape's fingers dance over the softscroll, making displays appear and disappear. “Find anything interesting?"

  Jape shook his head. “Catalog says next to nothing about the Grand Taupeaquaah Project. To think that UniFlag spent a hundred and forty billion Eunos on this place..."

  "A lot?” Scrornuck had little knowledge of billions and even less of what a Euno was worth.

  "Hell of a lot—and no records of where it went?” Jape scanned the scroll further. “Now this is interesting: seems UniFlag got into big trouble over something called ‘technolepathy.’ The records don't say what it was; they just talk about fines and lawsuits.” He tapped a few more buttons. “What's this? It turns up in Abe Matthews's final report on STC2108. Technolepathy device imploded, stream crossing uneventful. That's all?” He sighed. “Funny thing about Abe: he'd talk your ear off in person, but when it came time to write a report, he never said more than he absolutely had to."

  "Just like these UniFlag folks. Maybe they just weren't into paperwork."

  "For a project this expensive? No wonder they went out of business!” He tapped a few more buttons. “The documents are in an obsolete format. They could assign a crypto group to crack them, but it would be a Code One job.” He thought for a moment, and then pressed a button labeled Decline. “Probably not worth i
t just to satisfy our curiosity.” He sipped his tea and frowned. “Weak. Oh, well. Let's see if the search agents found anything interesting. Support systems for the City of Taupeaquaah fully on-line at abandonment." He glanced around the restaurant. “I think we already know that.” He sighed contentedly. “It's about time we got an assignment with clean beds and decent beer."

  "Yeah,” Scrornuck said, “I'm up to here with warlords and giant spiders."

  "Really?” Jape said with mock surprise. “I thought you loved a good adventure."

  "Caught me.” Scrornuck grinned and took a swig of his beer. “Still, I'd appreciate some women in these adventures."

  "Well, here's your chance.” Jape pointed to the restaurant's entrance, where Nalia stood, looking about uncertainly. “She says she likes your butt."

  Blushing slightly but also grinning, Scrornuck went to meet Nalia. She wore short brown pants, a sleeveless blue shirt that exposed a good deal of her flat, tanned midriff, and a very light jacket worn as a cape, its sleeves loosely tied around her neck. The outfit covered more than her serving wench uniform had, but he still found the view most pleasant. She'd added a sword to her ensemble, a medium-length, slightly curved blade similar to the ones he'd seen many Taupeaquaahns wearing, and over one shoulder she carried a day-pack big enough to hold a few days’ clothing. “Sorry to be late,” she said. “The Fortnight of Sacrifice begins today, and there's a huge crowd around the Temple."

  "They're really going to spend two weeks burning up furniture and shoes?"

  "Sure.” The tone of her voice made Scrornuck think he somehow should have known that. “You must be from really far away."

  "You could say that.” He pointed. “I see you still have your shoes."

  A slight tinge of guilt crossed her face as she glanced at her feet, clad in sturdy sandals with hiking-boot soles. “I haven't left a sacrifice in nine months.” The guilty look departed quickly. “I can't leave much on what I get paid, and these are the only decent walking shoes I have. The Dragon will have to wait."

  * * * *

  Scrornuck leaned back in his chair and watched Jape twirl a breadstick between his fingers as Nalia finished the last of her breakfast. They'd made small talk as they ate, but Scrornuck could see that Jape was itching to discuss business. Fine, he thought, let them. His eyes drooped halfway shut as he settled back to let his meal digest.