5:29.21 am
Wakes to padded footsteps and the faint scent of nitroglycerin.
5:29.25 am
Removes the detonator from the blasting jelly, which the fresh corpse had a moment ago.
5:30.00 am
Closes and locks the blasting jelly safe with the new load inside of it.
5:35.01 am
Leaves her dungeon bedroom, dressed and armed with two garottes, five throwing knives, two folding knives, seven cyanide pills, one .22 twelve round revolver (loaded), three 2cc hypodermic needles, three glass vials of morphine, distilled hemlock,. and chlorophorm, twelve tetrodotoxin darts, four blow tubes, a pack of matches, a lock-picking set, etc.
5:35.02 am
Prepares breakfast in the kitchen using ingredients common to the Guild. Eats it with her back to the wall.
5:58.27 am
Finds her orders hidden beneath a loose tile in the third stall of the woman's restroom. Incinerates the papers and dumps the ash in the toilet bowl.
6:04.59 am
Boards an Under-Locomotive to Cardiff after packing E-World clothing, and a tool kit.
7:10.32 am
Exits the UL, changes into a gray jumpsuit, and climbs out of Guild territory, carrying the tool kit.
7:54.18 am
Arrives at Harold Capili's apartment, knocks, and picks the lock when no one responds.
7:58.42 am
Leaves the apartment, having touched nothing directly.
8:43.51 am
Reenters the Guild UL station, changes back into normal clothing, and waits for the next UL.
10:05.11 am
Arrives again in London and visits Collins in his workshop.
10:05.19 am
Collins hangs his bow tie on the doorknob before quickly latching the door.
11:36.30 am
Leaves Collins' workshop, not a single hair out of place.
11:40.01 am
Cooks and eats her lunch in the same fashion that she cooked her breakfast.
12:10.01 pm
Enters the training room and begins her regiment of sparring, knife throwing, and acrobatics practice.
4:10.29 pm
Bathes and changes into fresh attire.
4:50.03 pm
Collects new E-World clothing and several pamphlets about environmentalism.
5:00.21 pm
Boards the UL to Cardiff once more.
6:05.00 pm
Arrives in Cardiff and changes into her E-World clothing.
6:44.42 pm
Knocks on Harold Capili's door, pamphlets in hand, inquiring into his knowledge of environmentalism,speaking in an American accent, and is invited inside to talk.
6:44.55 pm
Capili's door closes.
6:45.00 pm
Unwraps her favourite garrotte from his neck and sets about staging a robbery.
7:00.36 pm
Exits his apartment, careful to say good evening with her American accent to a woman she passed in the hall.
7:46.47 pm
Arrives in the UL station, changes yet again, and waits,smiling, for the next UL.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Not Related At All
I have been too busy to write anything lately, so here is an old piece.
December thirteenth:
The snow silences the earth,
and all is peaceful.
December nineteenth:
Plagues have struck. Every country
calls "bring out your dead!"
Christmas evening:
The scientists are rushing,
researching vaccines.
Night before New Year's:
Deaths are down, time for champagne!
Here's to a good year.
Two-thousand and twelve:
oh Lord, the corpses are walking!
What the heck is hap-
December thirteenth:
The snow silences the earth,
and all is peaceful.
December nineteenth:
Plagues have struck. Every country
calls "bring out your dead!"
Christmas evening:
The scientists are rushing,
researching vaccines.
Night before New Year's:
Deaths are down, time for champagne!
Here's to a good year.
Two-thousand and twelve:
oh Lord, the corpses are walking!
What the heck is hap-
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
White and Black
"I don't care how many excuses you make, Mister Collins. If you wish to continue to call on us for assistance, then the Guild must uphold their end of the agreement and deliver the dumps on schedule!" exclaimed Aldrich, nearly spilling his glass of wine.
"Listen," Ivy Morphan purred, cutting Collins off before he could reply, "The Guild is composed of two types of members, childish technicians and people like me. The technicians' childishness makes them creative, and it makes them easily distracted. If you want them to construct anything of value to you, you'll have to content yourself with it arriving late. If you want to push the case any further, then the people like me will do our very best to dissuade you."
Aldrich's expression shifted from florid frustration to a terrible cool in moments. Ivy met his dark gaze with her own.
"I would be more careful how I spoke," Aldrich said, each word ringing against the surrounding silence, "I know that a woman of your intelligence would not threaten someone capable of killing at any time over any distance. However, a less informed man might have misunderstood."
Ivy allowed a smile to spread across her face which sucked out what little warmth had been there.
"I am glad to do business with such an understanding man. It is so important to avoid insulting company, particularly when you are speaking to an assassin. May I have another glass of wine?"
She held her empty glass out to Archibald without looking away from Aldrich. They might have continued their staring contest indefinitely had Geoffrey not woken suddenly in a panic.
"That was real magic, I mean, it looked a lot like, or rather, what else could it, or... Where am I right now?" he begged, pulling Stanley's jacket off of his lap. Stanley heaved a tired sigh.
"Is this going to become a habit of yours, fainting at every little thing only to rudely demand an explanation from me? It won't do, you know."
"Actually, I should take some responsibility for that," interrupted Aldrich in a voice that sobered the room, "You see, in order to exchange the dumps, Wizard Powell used you to power his spell. I'm sorry that he did not ask your permission first."
"But...I thought he got it from the old dump. I saw it break down when he waved his hands and chanted," Geoffrey insisted.
"Wizards cannot draw life energy from inorganic materials. The dump broke down because it was falling apart to begin with. Someone likely used it at that point and it reached its limit. It is in constant use after all."
Geoffrey's face paled as comprehension struck him. His previous panic returned, ten fold. "HE SUCKED THE LIFE OUT OF ME! I NEED THAT LIFE!"
Archibald, who had listened with quiet intensity to the entire conversation, opened his mouth for the first time since Aldrich had returned with Geoffrey's body.
"Mister Fisher, I apologize that my wizard used your energy without your consent. I will speak with him and make sure that in the future, all parties to a spell are well informed. However, do not think of life energy as a permanent part of yourself. Bodies gain and lose life energy constantly. Every action we take displaces life from us and into something else, and is in that sense primitive wizardry. I hope you can forgive my wizard's inconsiderate behavior."
Geoffrey hesitated briefly, then nodded to Archibald and relaxed back into his seat. Shortly afterwards, the meeting ended with the Guild promising to try and deliver their machines on time, a statement as empty as Ivy's wine glass. As soon as they had departed, Aldrich turned to Archibald.
"You lied to him." Frost fringed Aldrich's words.
Archibald snorted. "Would you have wanted him to know the truth? He was scared and angry, and we were in a position to gain or lose privileges with the Guild. It was best for us, and it comforted him. Besides, you know as well as I that for our department to carryout its orders, certain aspects of our lives must remain a secret. The precise workings of magic are for practitioners to know and the rest of the world to never discover."
"I don't like it," Aldrich sulked.
"Dislike it to your heart's content as long as you do your job. If you keep your mouth shut, you needn't lie."
Archibald retired to his study while Aldrich wandered the castle, restless. After half an hour, he found himself in one of the castle's numerous towers. Recently fallen night seeped through the window, which Aldrich approached wearily.
"A man in black robes in a black tower under a black sky...I'm just the innermost layer of a set of nesting dolls, and that white liar is going to keep me inside." He sighed, resigned. "It'll all be worth it eventually."
Friday, April 1, 2011
Black and White
The Head Chancellor of Necromancy swept down a series of corridors in near darkness. His black robes swished about his heals, turning his silent, diligent walk into a frenzied whisper. At last, he emerged into an atrium studded with Gothic pillars. A series of sagging candles lined the walls, solemnly illuminating the lower third of the space. After a few meters, shadows began to condense on the columns and quickly thickened to obscure the ceiling entirely.
As the Head Chancellor rushed forward, the Supreme Wizard's white robes flashed in the surrounding gloom as he rushed from the opposite direction. The moment they met in the center of the room, each turned on his heal and continued their hurried progression side by side to plunge into yet another corridor.
"Where are they, Archibald?" the necromancer demanded of his companion, "I'll flood them with death for this delay!"
"Don't worry so much, Aldrich. You know the Guild, always messing about. A few days delay hasn't hurt anyone." Despite his calm words, he set the pace as much as Archibald.
"It could have hurt someone! Imagine if the old hadn't lasted quite long enough! Just think what might have happened if one of our department attempted to use it then! You know how slippery the powers we wield are -"
"The fact of the matter is, it did last long enough because you anticipated the delay when you requested a new one. Still, I will be happy to see it in place."
As they followed their long path, windows appeared. At first, they allowed only slivers of reddened light. However, by the end of it, the two walked in full sunlight. The Adjustment Tunnel, as it was called, had dramatically reduced the cases of temporary blindness suffered by necromancers leaving the fortress in the daylight.
On the gravel road leading to the fortress stood a motley of Guild members dressed in what they would call "eworld" clothing. Surprisingly, they had managed to dress for the current decade, unlike when they paid a visit in the sixties dressed for the great depression. Behind them was a people-carrier hitched to a rather large thing on wheels completely covered by tarp. Aldrich wasted no time.
"Where have you been, you fools?! I have been waiting an entire week for it to arrive!"
Stanley Collins, whom Archibald had healed just the year before after a steam creation broke down catastrophically, stepped forward gallantly.
"You see Sir, we couldn't very well have delivered it in the state it was in last week, now could we? It had a dreadful lack of style, after all, no bells or whistles to speak of. Why, it would have shamed the Guild's good name to present such a tasteless lump of seriousness, not that many people have heard of the Guild to start with. That is to say, those who do know of us, like your Chancellorness, would have been disappointed in us that what little name we have would have taken quite the thrashing from people who -"
"didn't think much of the name to start with!" Aldrich finished. "At any rate, now that it's finally here, we had best install it as quickly as possible. Which one of you knows how to drive that blasted thing?" He gesticulated towards the people-carrier.
"That would be me, sir," offered a young blonde man with the beginnings of a mustache on his lip, "I'm Jeff - er- Geoffrey Fisher."
"Well, what are you waiting for? Get in it! I'll show you where to go. Supreme Wizard, please deal with the rest of them, and make sure that they do not touch any of the receptacles." As he spoke, he strode up to the vehicle and climbed into the passenger seat.
"Thank, you for your advice, Head Chancellor of Necromancy," Archibald replied dryly, "but I have entertained guests before in my one hundred and forty four years here."
Aldrich paid him no mind as he rolled off down the road with the twitchy Geoffrey. He gave him directions to the back entrance and allowed himself to cool off somewhat.
"Fisher, is it?" Aldrich asked somewhat more gruffly than he had intended.
"Yessir," he mumbled. After a brief pause, he spoke again. "Um, would you mind my asking what this thing is for, exactly?"
"Good Heavens!" Aldrich spat, "You mean you came all the way down here without any of them explaining why? Why on earth didn't you ask them?"
"To be fair, I was only brought on this trip because I know how to dress properly and can drive something besides a Steam Trolley. The hassle I had to go through to procure the clothes and the people-carrier and following their decade old maps to get here..." Geoffrey heaved an exhausted sigh.
"Do you mean to say that this isn't your vehicle?" Aldrich asked, eying his surroundings as though he suddenly found himself inside a bomb.
"We didn't steal it, if that's what you think. We rented it. You would not believe how difficult it is to rent something without being able to give your name or address. Anyway, with all of that muck, they only had time to tell me that this had to do with... the Wizardry and Necromancy Department," Geoffrey muttered, glancing towards Aldrich doubtfully.
"I take it you don't believe in magic." Awkward silence was enough of an answer. "No, I didn't think so. I'll answer your original question anyway. What you have hitched to the back of this vehicle is one of the most durable, complicated, useless contraptions ever constructed. Millions of parts could break on it, and almost all of them would have to fail before it stopped doing whatever purposeless task it performs."
"Why would you want something like that so badly?"
"To understand that, you would have to understand how magic works, but of course," Aldrich grinned, "you don't believe in magic." As much as he knew he shouldn't, taunting the doubters was far too entertaining.
"Hey! I'm not entirely closed minded. Go ahead; explain it to me. I don't have to believe it to listen to it, do I?"
"All right, all right, relax," Aldrich smirked, "but it will be a highly simplified version of the way magic really works. Essentially, death is not the absence of life like most people think. Death and life are two opposing forces or energies. They both exist to some degree in everything, but one tends to overpower the other. In me, heh, life is clearly the dominant force. It is the ability to mend and build. Death, on the other hand, is the ability to break down and degrade. Scientists call it entropy, though they hardly understand it."
"Wait, so when we die, do we have an excess of death breaking us down or a deficit of life needed to hold us together?"
"Why, Mr. Fisher, you sound almost as if you believed me. Turn right up ahead, and both ways of dieing are possible. However, there is a finite amount of death and life in the universe. All that lives must die, because all that lives insist on giving life to dead matter."
"You mean, we have to die because people reproduce!?" Geoffrey exclaimed, horrified.
"It isn't as horrible as you think. Even if humans gave up reproduction, insects and animals and life galaxies away from us would continue to cause deaths and lives. It isn't wrong. However, Wizards and Necromancers do...shift the balance once and a while."
"So, you what, make zombies?" As he spoke, Geoffrey backed into the drive, pushing the overly convoluted machine into the waiting garage, hardly in keeping with the Gothic motif.
"Please, that is an unfair generalization. Necromancers can manipulate death energy. We can take it from organic matter and direct it towards other objects. Wizards do the same with life energy, taking from the organic and shaping to make something new." The people-carrier had stopped, and Aldrich and Geoffrey set about unhitching the contraption.
"What do you mean, wizards take life energy? They don't kill when they cast spells, do they?" Geoffrey asked while helping Aldrich to push the trailer through the back door of the garage.
"It depends on the strength of the spell. If they want to heal a cut, they have to take that healing ability from a person or a plant or several million bacteria," Aldrich huffed, "If I want to heal a cut, I have to give the damage to something, but it doesn't have to be living. That is where this thing comes in. Necromancers all over the country draw death from people in need and pour it into this thing. It's useless, so it is not a waste to destroy it, and it can take quite a lot of damage."
By that point, the men had maneuvered the trailer into a large room occupied only by a wizened man in white robes and an even more decrepit device of indeterminate purpose.
"The old dump, I presume?" Geoffrey commented, nodding towards the hulk.
"Don't speak so rudely about Wizard Powell," Aldrich grinned, "He may be old, but he's in great health. He is here to help us switch the two devices. Stand clear."
Geoffrey took several steps back and watched the white robed man, Wizard Powell, intone ancient words while gesturing mystically. Before his eyes, the decrepit wreck heaved and whined, then collapsed with a final groan. As soon as it finished its death rattle, Wizard Powell ceased his chanting. His arms shot out, one towards the old dump and one towards the new. With the slightest lift of his arms, both raised into the air by an inch. When he circled his hands about one another, the dumps swept through the air and took each others places. The wreck sat on the trailer, and the fresh watch-a-ma-call-it occupied the center of the room. Geoffrey occupied the ground that he fell down upon as the second time in the same number of weeks, his crazy fuse blew violently.
On the gravel road leading to the fortress stood a motley of Guild members dressed in what they would call "eworld" clothing. Surprisingly, they had managed to dress for the current decade, unlike when they paid a visit in the sixties dressed for the great depression. Behind them was a people-carrier hitched to a rather large thing on wheels completely covered by tarp. Aldrich wasted no time.
"Where have you been, you fools?! I have been waiting an entire week for it to arrive!"
Stanley Collins, whom Archibald had healed just the year before after a steam creation broke down catastrophically, stepped forward gallantly.
"You see Sir, we couldn't very well have delivered it in the state it was in last week, now could we? It had a dreadful lack of style, after all, no bells or whistles to speak of. Why, it would have shamed the Guild's good name to present such a tasteless lump of seriousness, not that many people have heard of the Guild to start with. That is to say, those who do know of us, like your Chancellorness, would have been disappointed in us that what little name we have would have taken quite the thrashing from people who -"
"didn't think much of the name to start with!" Aldrich finished. "At any rate, now that it's finally here, we had best install it as quickly as possible. Which one of you knows how to drive that blasted thing?" He gesticulated towards the people-carrier.
"That would be me, sir," offered a young blonde man with the beginnings of a mustache on his lip, "I'm Jeff - er- Geoffrey Fisher."
"Well, what are you waiting for? Get in it! I'll show you where to go. Supreme Wizard, please deal with the rest of them, and make sure that they do not touch any of the receptacles." As he spoke, he strode up to the vehicle and climbed into the passenger seat.
"Thank, you for your advice, Head Chancellor of Necromancy," Archibald replied dryly, "but I have entertained guests before in my one hundred and forty four years here."
Aldrich paid him no mind as he rolled off down the road with the twitchy Geoffrey. He gave him directions to the back entrance and allowed himself to cool off somewhat.
"Fisher, is it?" Aldrich asked somewhat more gruffly than he had intended.
"Yessir," he mumbled. After a brief pause, he spoke again. "Um, would you mind my asking what this thing is for, exactly?"
"Good Heavens!" Aldrich spat, "You mean you came all the way down here without any of them explaining why? Why on earth didn't you ask them?"
"To be fair, I was only brought on this trip because I know how to dress properly and can drive something besides a Steam Trolley. The hassle I had to go through to procure the clothes and the people-carrier and following their decade old maps to get here..." Geoffrey heaved an exhausted sigh.
"Do you mean to say that this isn't your vehicle?" Aldrich asked, eying his surroundings as though he suddenly found himself inside a bomb.
"We didn't steal it, if that's what you think. We rented it. You would not believe how difficult it is to rent something without being able to give your name or address. Anyway, with all of that muck, they only had time to tell me that this had to do with... the Wizardry and Necromancy Department," Geoffrey muttered, glancing towards Aldrich doubtfully.
"I take it you don't believe in magic." Awkward silence was enough of an answer. "No, I didn't think so. I'll answer your original question anyway. What you have hitched to the back of this vehicle is one of the most durable, complicated, useless contraptions ever constructed. Millions of parts could break on it, and almost all of them would have to fail before it stopped doing whatever purposeless task it performs."
"Why would you want something like that so badly?"
"To understand that, you would have to understand how magic works, but of course," Aldrich grinned, "you don't believe in magic." As much as he knew he shouldn't, taunting the doubters was far too entertaining.
"Hey! I'm not entirely closed minded. Go ahead; explain it to me. I don't have to believe it to listen to it, do I?"
"All right, all right, relax," Aldrich smirked, "but it will be a highly simplified version of the way magic really works. Essentially, death is not the absence of life like most people think. Death and life are two opposing forces or energies. They both exist to some degree in everything, but one tends to overpower the other. In me, heh, life is clearly the dominant force. It is the ability to mend and build. Death, on the other hand, is the ability to break down and degrade. Scientists call it entropy, though they hardly understand it."
"Wait, so when we die, do we have an excess of death breaking us down or a deficit of life needed to hold us together?"
"Why, Mr. Fisher, you sound almost as if you believed me. Turn right up ahead, and both ways of dieing are possible. However, there is a finite amount of death and life in the universe. All that lives must die, because all that lives insist on giving life to dead matter."
"You mean, we have to die because people reproduce!?" Geoffrey exclaimed, horrified.
"It isn't as horrible as you think. Even if humans gave up reproduction, insects and animals and life galaxies away from us would continue to cause deaths and lives. It isn't wrong. However, Wizards and Necromancers do...shift the balance once and a while."
"So, you what, make zombies?" As he spoke, Geoffrey backed into the drive, pushing the overly convoluted machine into the waiting garage, hardly in keeping with the Gothic motif.
"Please, that is an unfair generalization. Necromancers can manipulate death energy. We can take it from organic matter and direct it towards other objects. Wizards do the same with life energy, taking from the organic and shaping to make something new." The people-carrier had stopped, and Aldrich and Geoffrey set about unhitching the contraption.
"What do you mean, wizards take life energy? They don't kill when they cast spells, do they?" Geoffrey asked while helping Aldrich to push the trailer through the back door of the garage.
"It depends on the strength of the spell. If they want to heal a cut, they have to take that healing ability from a person or a plant or several million bacteria," Aldrich huffed, "If I want to heal a cut, I have to give the damage to something, but it doesn't have to be living. That is where this thing comes in. Necromancers all over the country draw death from people in need and pour it into this thing. It's useless, so it is not a waste to destroy it, and it can take quite a lot of damage."
By that point, the men had maneuvered the trailer into a large room occupied only by a wizened man in white robes and an even more decrepit device of indeterminate purpose.
"The old dump, I presume?" Geoffrey commented, nodding towards the hulk.
"Don't speak so rudely about Wizard Powell," Aldrich grinned, "He may be old, but he's in great health. He is here to help us switch the two devices. Stand clear."
Geoffrey took several steps back and watched the white robed man, Wizard Powell, intone ancient words while gesturing mystically. Before his eyes, the decrepit wreck heaved and whined, then collapsed with a final groan. As soon as it finished its death rattle, Wizard Powell ceased his chanting. His arms shot out, one towards the old dump and one towards the new. With the slightest lift of his arms, both raised into the air by an inch. When he circled his hands about one another, the dumps swept through the air and took each others places. The wreck sat on the trailer, and the fresh watch-a-ma-call-it occupied the center of the room. Geoffrey occupied the ground that he fell down upon as the second time in the same number of weeks, his crazy fuse blew violently.
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