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A Fistful of Dust
60. Day 144: Radio World

60. Day 144: Radio World

Daniel

They crossed through the portal into a place they’d decided to call Radio World. Daniel considered its true name inconsequential as they didn’t intend to stay long. The Terminal crowded with human caravans, traveling merchants, those waiting for friends, loitering, or playing third-rate instruments.

People wore everything from suits and skirts to tunics and breeches. He saw key-wound pocket watches, mule-drawn carts filled with chickens, and heard cars rumbling nearby—a hodgepodge of colliding technological levels. No one gave Daniel’s group a second glance.

Of course, they wore disguises.

“Why not Camouflage or Shew Stone invisibility to hide ourselves?” he’d asked Rana.

“Remember, my Camouflage works best when not being looked for. You deserve to be caught if you think people aren’t expecting someone to come through an opening portal. Plus, invisibility doesn’t keep people from bumping into you on accident.”

In addition, while illusions work on humans, they attract the attention of anyone with Second Sight. Deep in the Wilderness, advertising their presence to any passing monsters, demons, or mages was a bad idea.

Or, as Rana put it, “A dumb plan, doomed to fail eventually.”

Most technologically advanced human settlements appeared in ‘dead zones’ where monsters and mages rarely visit or places with significant protection. From another perspective… humans built anywhere and, over millennia, civilizations in unsafe places tended to disappear.

In any case, they didn’t find signs of frequent mage visits and deemed illusions safe for the short term.

The surrounding humans saw a group of teenagers in common garb. Lea looked normal, by which he meant terrible, leaning listlessly on a pale, freckled Rana. While Kenta hid nothing but his hair, Cassie maintained multiple cosmetic changes. She hid her tail, ears, wings, and nose, changed her skin from dark grey to brown, and had a slow walking pace on leg-hands. Daniel added thirty pounds to his skeletal figure and ‘held hands’ with Wendi—technically true as he rode in her fist—the Caprid now olive complexioned sans-horns-and-tail.

:Please remove the glamour concealing your eyes,: sent a floating tennis-ball-sized orb wearing an animalistic Taotie mask. :The Treatise dictates this unit inform you this unit will not be the one to resolve any infractions, should they occur.:

The little guardian bobbed towards something on Daniel’s left. An orb lay embedded in the Terminal, large as a resort hotel. It pulsed with sluggish regularity as if asleep. A bead of sweat dropped from Daniel’s temple.

:Stay calm and do as it says,: Rana sent, :Remember, Terminal guardians care for nothing but monsters and demons.:

Daniel lowered the disguise around his eyes but couldn’t stop his heart from beating overtime. The flying orb zoomed in and out as if focusing, then sent, :The Charter obligates this unit to serve you, Son of Perses.:

The little guardian scanned the others and moved on to the next group. Dozens of tiny inspection orbs flitted through the crowds like bees visiting flowers.

Of the Terminals Daniel visited, two-gate were most common, followed by three-gate and one-gate as least common. Each gate after the first increased the Terminal’s size tenfold. This four-gate Terminal had a hundred times the square footage of a one-gate, doubled again by a second story, and appeared rarer than the others by far. Perpetual demand kept the four World Gates, each a hundred feet tall, active at all hours.

Near the edge of the Terminal, a bulletin board advertised services and displayed maps, including date-stamped routes between near-neighboring worlds and their human nations. Looking at the directory, Daniel found Book Town in the periphery of the small but populous network. Mankind had built a whole interplanetary society around this very Terminal.

:The big guardian keeps people safe, doesn’t it?:

:Right,: Rana sent. :Most monsters wouldn’t fight such a guardian, as they’d be weakened after the battle.:

A thriving metropolis expanded from the Terminal in all directions with newly built towers of glass, steel, and concrete in pleasing geometric shapes. However, a few peculiar buildings were ancient by comparison. Where paint chipped, Daniel saw dozens of layers from previous restorations. Numerous construction projects tore open the streets, replacing centuries-old piping and eroding supports, removing wire cables that went nowhere, or installing electric lights in sight of functioning gas lamps.

Wendi wandered at their fore with Daniel in hand. Above them, needlepoints skewered the fat pink clouds of sunrise. She had that look of wonder again as if everything were new. “Those are skyscrapers,” he told her.

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She grinned, “Thanks, D—”

“—Watch out!” Daniel yanked her knuckles like reins. She halted at his direction, avoiding a primitive car she could crush by accident that blew its horn at them in passing.

Kenta marched over and said to her in a strained whisper, “What are you doing? You almost blew our cover!”

She cowed at his anger, hurt in her eyes.

:Knock it off,: Daniel said. :I’ve got this.: He turned to Wendi and smiled. “Stick with me, and I’ll make sure nothing bad happens.”

She returned his smile, that simple reassurance restoring her good spirits. “Thanks, Danny!”

“Danny?” She’d never called him that before…

Braids of hair rubbing his temples, Kenta interrupted, “Dan, where are we going?”

Easy. “We find the intersection of the safest and most comfortable place to hide within city limits. Paul, could you start us off?”

“No,” the candle boy said. Everyone looked at Paul, confused.

“What do you mean, ‘no?’” Kenta pressed.

Usually, Paul did whatever the group wanted, but this time held his ground. “I mean, I’m not using my power anymore. All the blame falls on me. I’ve thought about it, and this is my decision.”

Daniel objected, “How can you say that? Paul, nothing was your fault. You did what we told you to.”

“Exactly,” the candle boy replied. “I’ve made a mess of everything. It’s all backward, and I’ve been worse than stupid. You can trace every problem to me and what I haven’t done. We’d be better off working through our problems than depending on me for a change. I’m banning my Pathfinding magic until I have it figured out. If we’re taking a break, then I’ll spend it fixing my issues.”

Had it been days since Paul used his power? They’d retraced their steps to Book Town and found Radio World from there, but Daniel assumed Paul monitored their paths for danger on the way. Oops.

Kenta and Cassie tried persuading the Pathfinder, to no avail. After giving up, they looked to Daniel. He had a Plan B. “Kenta, Cassie, most of us are in no shape to split up.” He left unspoken the way Lea slung an arm across Rana’s shoulders as if physically wounded. At least she could stand today. “Could you two search while we stay here?”

After a brief exchange of glances, they departed to explore. Cassie found a secluded place to turn invisible and take flight while Kenta scoured the ground with illusion-concealed hair.

They waited hours for the scouts’ return, Daniel keeping Wendi entertained so she didn’t break anything. The two of them sang familiar rhymes and played Eye Spy for the hundredth time. At least they had more options here than ‘grass,’ ‘rock,’ or ‘sky.’

She exhausted him with her childish curiosity and supernatural stamina. On the outside, he smiled. On the inside, he cried. Whenever she saw something simple, like a clock or a car or cutlery, and just didn’t understand—it tortured him. Daniel had to do something.

On the other hand, he couldn’t even look at Lea. Daniel had nothing to give her—except time and space to breathe. Rana seemed better equipped for the job. The others similarly gave those two a wide berth.

Paul waited alone, isolated by choice. Daniel appreciated Paul’s decision. They both had a long way to go in controlling their abilities. Daniel imagined he’d be in Paul’s shoes… or Wendi’s if his power cost someone their life. He gave thanks Paul wasn’t in that deep.

As the sun set, Kenta reported by sending, and Cassie swung by to lead them over. He’d found an abandoned apartment building in good condition on the edge of town. Warm and dry, it showed no signs of human activity and few vermin. They dispersed to inspect the dwelling and claim their quarters.

Cassie took the top floor and opened the windows. Paul and Kenta reserved large suites, though the Kaminoke spent most hours in the large kitchen and lobby. Rana found some distant corner with Lea; Daniel didn’t investigate.

Not wanting to further damage the building’s structural integrity, he chose the stony cellar. When Wendi followed him, he, embarrassed, almost told the girl to find her own room. Then she looked at him like he was her only friend in the universe, and he couldn’t tell her to leave.

Being alone with Wendi felt weird. He kept thinking one of the girls would come to take care of her, but no one materialized. Nobody even commented on the awkwardness of the arrangement. As far as they were concerned, Daniel had taken the bullet.

The group met downstairs for dinner and planning. They set a watch at all hours to maintain a Shew Stone illusion on the building to keep it seeming rundown and unappealing. Having humans wander into their home could spell disaster.

“We’re not stealing again,” Kenta insisted. No objections. “How do we find money?”

Daniel raised a hand, “What’s wrong with how we did it in Book Town?”

“What do you think the demand is for candles when they have electricity?” Cassie scoffed.

“That would be a fair point,” he conceded, “If I didn’t have this…” Daniel gestured, and Wendi produced an item for him.

“A newspaper?” Kenta was skeptical.

“Guess again.”

Wendi did, “A damp newspaper we found in the gutter!”

“Nice try, Wendi. So close. Now, look closer.” He motioned, and they leaned in.

“They have comics,” Paul noticed.

“You’re getting it.”

Kenta squinted, “Is… is that a political cartoon?”

“Yes!” Daniel shot a finger-gun for emphasis, “Look at the head—enormous, his features exaggerated in a grin of perverse pleasure atop that simian body while stealing the banana of ‘Taxes’ from a distressed elderly woman.”

Cassie chuckled at his narration. “Do you have a point, Daniel?”

“I happen to know someone talented with busts… Paul, care to give it a try?” They turned to Paul, confused. Apparently, not all knew his skill. Paul lowered his eyes in reluctance.

Kenta frowned, “I suppose you’ve banned candle-making as well?” Though the Kaminoke must feel betrayed, Daniel wished Kenta wouldn’t be so rough on the guilt-ridden candle boy. Despite this, Daniel decided against interfering and causing more drama.

Angered by the sarcasm, Paul thrust out his hands to shape wax. The Pathfinder hit his stride after a bit of fumbling. Rare were those who matched Paul’s aptitude for turning pictures in their mind into sculpture.

Before them sat a flawless replica with a wick protruding from the politician’s head.

“I hope they haven’t invented copyright laws on this world,” Cassie said.

Daniel assured them, “We’ll tweak the details, and it’ll be fine.”

“Will they sell?” Paul worried.

“Are you kidding? As long as we stay current, people won’t be able to get enough.”