***Tirnanog, Hochberg***
***Magnus***
Astra sprang through the portal for the third time in a row, demonstrating how easy it was to use once we had gotten the hang of it. Changing flash step to a long-range teleport took a little mental finagling with our sub-identities, but it was doable.
Wormhole, not portal, I corrected myself.
The anchors were short-range homing beacons for miniature wormholes, little dents in spacetime. But they were nothing compared to the real thing which made travel between Tirnanog and Earth possible. My new understanding of the physics behind the process also explained why Earth never managed to open wormholes to other worlds.
They just didn't have the right anchors to lock on to.
Which begged the question of how Tirnanog came to have these anchors. And how did Earth's scientists manage to lock onto those anchors without knowing their exact properties? A thought to keep in mind. Of course, Gaia had already provided a reasonable explanation, though I liked to stay aware of my circumstances. Leaving my fate utterly in hands of others just didn't sit right with me.
I shook my head. Gaia would have forced me to flagellate myself for referring to a wormhole as a portal. But by the gods of gaming, it was one! A fucking town portal was what it was! Triggered by flash step!
Just like flash step, it wasn't true teleportation, but it came pretty damned close.
Neither Astra nor I had the power output to keep a portal open for long, but it was enough for us to jump through.
The only flaws were that the destination was set and couldn't be changed on a whim. Also, having more than one portal within a few kilometres of each other wasn't possible, so we would have to consider each anchor's position very carefully.
The fabric of spacetime 'smoothed' itself if there was too much interference. A good analogy was wrinkling a blanket in a particular spot, and then pulling on the blanket too close to the wrinkle. It would automatically smooth itself out. Without special measures, spacetime would also repair itself with time.
Another problem was posed by wormholes opened from Earth: They might interfere with the anchors we set up. Due to the size and power output of Earth's facilities, our anchors would always lose out.
Thankfully, the only big wormhole regularly used by Earth was the site at the Old Camp, though, I should keep an open mind regarding other locations. The wormhole at the Old Camp being the only one might be propaganda.
Now that I thought about it, were there even enough prisoners arriving at the Old Camp to account for the whole of Earth?
I reached up and massaged my left temple, irked that I hadn't thought of this earlier! Or maybe I had considered it and forgotten? Earth's exile program was running all around the year. Were they dumping exiles into a 10m layer of snow during the winter? Lunacy.
Earth must have other portal locations all around Tirnanog. There must be at least one other continent that was warm while this area was frozen.
I silently tasked one of my sub-identities to keep the problem in mind. It wasn't important right now.
Astra and I would have to go and study the anchor at the Old Camp to find out more.
I had to be there when the others arrived. Hopefully, they wouldn't land at one of the other locations. There was nothing I could do about it right now.
My partner was still laughing when she returned from her fourth trip. “Do you really believe that we can set one of these up to pop back and forth as we please? Oh, but it is tiring to use them. Seven or eight pops in a row might be my limit.”
I shrugged and smiled, happy to be distracted. “The math says so, and math doesn't lie.”
One of my sub-identities began nagging in the back of my head that math led nonetheless to some imaginary solutions when applied to the real world. Results which existed only on paper.
I ignored the silent protests for now. Everything had worked exactly as Gaia had promised. Though, we still had to practice setting up proper anchors.
Our first attempt would likely disappear within a few days or weeks once the fabric of spacetime realigned itself. At some point, we would no longer be able to lock onto it with flash step.
“We need one in every major settlement!” Astra declared and removed her helmet. “Take off your helmet!”
Once I did so, she leaned in and French kissed me without holding back.
After a few seconds, we stopped making out.
“How did I deserve that one?” I asked, still grinning.
“Because it was your idea to have Gaia teach us,” Astra explained.
“I have to ask her for more lessons then,” I proclaimed proudly.
My better half winced. “Maybe give us a few nights off? I am slowly getting sleep deprivation from the continuous all-nighters.”
I coughed and put my helmet back on. “Anyway, we need to keep this ability a secret as much as possible. People will rightfully assume we can make wormholes. I cannot imagine the can of worms the knowledge might open up. Especially when someone gets the idea it might be a way back to Earth.”
Which it was, but not an easily achievable one. To my knowledge at least. All the colonies together didn't have the power output necessary to open a wormhole back home.
I stopped myself, questioning whether Earth was still 'home'. Everyone I truly cared about was here. Astra, my sisters... our future children.
Wow, that one was weird. Us having eggs still didn't feel real.
Astra waved a hand and interrupted my derailing thoughts. “The clans are too isolated for anyone to monitor our movements. And if we want to use this ability properly, the elders will have to know.”
“I guess. We still have to keep it a secret. Anyone who knows our anchor's location could use it against us.” I inconspicuously scratched my chest with a filament, still finding it awkward to have more than four limbs. I shook myself. Don't think about it! The more I was aware of it, the longer it would take me to feel natural in my skin.
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I asked, “Do we proceed with the plan?”
Astra nodded. “Search for the plants on foot. Use the portal to pop back when we encounter anything suspicious or something hard to handle.” She pointed down into the valley. “Acidroot is supposed to grow where there is plenty of water, so we should search in the valleys between hills. Small streams or creeks might be an ideal location. If we don't find anything, we can look somewhere else tomorrow.”
She told the drakes to stay put unless there was danger and started walking down the hill.
I followed. “Astra, can we agree on not calling it 'pop'?”
“What else do you want to call it?” She retorted in an excited tone. “I don't want to say teleport. It doesn't roll off the tongue. Pop is way better.”
I cringed inwardly, hoping the term wouldn't stick. “Maybe jaunt? Everything but pop, Astra! Please!”
She rolled her eyes. “I guess jaunt is fine too.”
Then she interwove some of her filaments into thicker limbs and tried to lift herself while we walked. It took a few tries, but when we reached the foot of the hill, she was stumbling along like an awkward spider.
I shook my head at her antics. She had worked out the technique during our dream time with Gaia.
“I still don't see the point. You are a lot faster if you just run. Using your filaments this way gives no real advantage.”
Astra crossed her arms and huffed. “Now, that's just rude. This is great coordination training. And with this trick, I can lift myself now – a little. You know yourself that filaments are only good at pulling. You are just annoyed that yours aren't long enough to try this. And have you considered that a single filament can be ripped? When they are interwoven it's harder to damage them. Just like a cord. I get to have fewer angles of attack, but I can choose how many filaments I interweave and enjoy the benefits of heightened durability nonetheless.”
And if something manages to damage one of those cords, you will lose a whole bunch of them at once, I thought inwardly. Interweaving filaments might be enough to get Astra off the ground, but they would never hold up to someone with a strength mutation and bones to hold the muscles in place. I huffed and followed her. It was arguably good coordination training, so I let it be.
While I had taken completely to the armour weave Etan had taught me, Astra still insisted on deploying her filaments more freely. Maybe I would do the same once mine got as long as hers, but I wasn't there yet.
As soon as we left the drakes' vicinity, we fell into companionable silence and concentrated on our surroundings. Astra had her eyes on the ground to search for the plant we needed, while my job was playing lookout.
The plains weren't as densely populated with wildlife as the forest around the Old Camp. In exchange, the few animals living here were a lot larger or moving in herds. In most cases, they were also a lot more dangerous.
We searched the area in concentric circles while we tried to follow the valleys between the hills. Three hours passed and we found nothing exciting except for a pack of gutters which were interested in us but didn't dare to approach. Instead, they just followed at a very respectful distance. I wasn't sure why they didn't attack, but Astra explained that some predators like gutters attacked only fleeing prey.
We kept our search going, but when the gutters were joined by a second and third group, their numbers became concerning. I also began to doubt Astra’s overly easy rationalization.
I could still remember them hunting the rhino-sized elk.
“I think we have overstayed our welcome for today, Astra,” I pointed at the over forty animals leering at us from the hilltop above.
Astra looked up from her search and regarded the pack. “I guess. A few more animals and they might be confident enough in their numbers to swarm us. Let's go back for today?”
I nodded. “We are out here to fight our pursuer. Nobody pays us to fight an army of oversized Pomeranians. Though, I wonder why they would be so wary of us. We are just two humans.”
“Maybe they already learned a few lessons from encounters with Hochberg hunters. We aren't too far away from the city.” Astra suggested and we jaunted back to the drakes.
It worked like a charm.
Over the next few days, we built a routine while perfecting the art of setting anchors. We had no clue how to find our prey, so our only hope was for it to find us. The mornings were spent with the drakes in the western plains. The evenings were reserved for the Hochberg's supercomputer and diplomatic meetings.
On the fourth day of our new routine, Thalia and Peter had us join Maria and the head representative of the Church of Gaia. Our acolyte had finally managed to mobilize the Hochberg branch of the church to take a more political stance on recent events.
“We are normally trying to avoid inter-clan politics as much as possible,” Nicolas, the local head priest explained and took a sip from some kind of fruit juice. The culinary arts were already becoming popular after unlocking Hochberg's UI.
“It doesn't benefit a clan-spanning organisation to take sides. It tends to get your people thrown out of the clan you are rallying against.” He sighed and looked into his half-empty glass with a forlorn expression. “Sadly, it seems like it's impossible in this case. The matriarch is very vocal about recent events and if it's true that Aerie's elders are also on the move, withholding our support would be stupid. There is also the letter from our Aerie branch. I still find it hard to believe, though. Our branch in Thich should have informed us of the situation. Either they were silenced or they are working against the rest of the church.”
Nicolas surveyed our quarters and shook his head. “If you didn't have the Caravaners on your side too, I wouldn't be here. I couldn't imagine them stopping an entire caravan at a settlement for longer than is required to load and unload their wares.”
“Do the Caravaners hold more weight for you than the matriarch?” I asked.
Nicolas smirked and pointed at himself. “Former Caravaner. I still have ties with the family, but my mutations simply don't allow me to fight. I would be a burden on the journey. My parents are still distraught, but I have found another path for myself.”
Astra nodded. “We know that the church's influence is more on the esoteric side, but any support you can give our cause won't be forgotten.”
The priest smiled. “Of course. Though, I doubt much support is needed.” He looked at me with a grin on his face. “All we have to do is spread the truth!”
“Truth?” I frowned.
“Tell your story to everyone! Gain some renown among the small people. I was impressed with your speech when the Thich accused you of your failings.” Nicolas elaborated. “Magnus, you might not realize it, but to the people of this world, you might as well be a hero of old. You just have to change your attitude and look at the situation from a different perspective.”
Peter nodded along with the man’s speech. “This sounds interesting. Tell us more. I have wondered whether the recent fiasco with the Thich delegation could be used to our advantage.”
“I am no hero,” I clarified quickly. “All I am doing is...” I stopped myself from sharing too much. “I have personal reasons. Reasons which won't withstand moral evaluation.”
Nicolas shook his head. “Don't devalue yourself without reason, young man. You went on a journey with no return. Who cares whether your original motivations were fuelled by hate and revenge? What matters is the outcome, as your journey seems to be guided by Gaia herself. You managed to draw the attention of two clans towards a great evil and you liberated us from the curse of stew.”
Thalia and Astra giggled from their spot on the couch. “Tulkas, the bringer of the culinary arts!”
I raised a hand. “Now, I don't like where this is going. I am not some saviour, nor am I fighting evil. As sad as it is, we are fighting people. I don’t want to be the lead figure for propaganda warfare.”
“But Magnus,” Peter pointed out, entirely too enthused about the idea. “You have to realize that the elders already set you up for this position by appointing Astra and you as official Aerie protectors.”
“You're thinking nonsense, boy,” Nicolas added. “Of course, I understand that the world is neither white nor black. But there are degrees of evil, and the Thich have crossed a line by aligning themselves with Earth to perform experiments on people. What they did to their diplomats is despicable. I have been around for the last war and my wife paid the ultimate price. I am not keen on what is to come, but we have to get your story out there before someone else does it for us. And people need someone to look up to for what is coming. You are an ideal candidate!”
“What do you intend to do?” Astra asked.
The priest grinned and began to explain.
Once the meeting with Nicolas had concluded, Astra, Thalia, Mark, and I sat in our quarters in silent contemplation.
“I still don't like the church waging a propaganda campaign in our names,” I pointed out.
“But he is right,” Mark pointed out. “Better us setting the narrative before the Thich do it. The Thich's accusations against you might have been bad if your inspired speech hadn't incited them to attack you.”
“And the church is the best candidate to spread the message,” Maria pointed out.
Unfortunately, my misgivings about the whole idea were overruled by the others. At least Nicolas promised not to lay it on too thick.
Because we hadn’t even found a trace of Acidroot, Astra and I changed our approach. Instead of randomly searching the landscape, we looked up whether there were any known locations for the plant.
The next day, we headed out for the large riverbank south of the city.