There were two others in the bar after Robert left, and neither seemed that interested in talking. They’d both taken up booths along the back of the room, under the small windows looking out over the void. One seemed to have passed out, I figured he was an off-duty staff member as he eventually got up and walked towards the shop and I didn’t see him return. The other was a one-armed old woman who was messing with some kind of thin stone slab. I didn’t see her leave but later when I checked for her she was gone, likely her time was up and her method of travel wasn’t as flashy as Robert’s.
The food at the bar was good, not excellent but above average for pub food. After I finished off the burger, I spent the next couple hours slowly working on my fries. With no one to talk to I busied myself with studying the Harmony I had copied to my implants. Before I had brute forced a counter to it’s existence, but now that I had time and no real goal, I took the time to properly figure it out. And it was fascinating, unlike organic minds it didn’t have one thought about anything, it had all of them. The interference pattern between different tones would produce a spectrum of thoughts, ranging from nonsensical to cold and logical. All of these thoughts were played off against one another, some canceling each other out while others were amplified, until a single song was all that was left.
It was more than just a song, it was an idea, a thought in its purest form transmitted as sound. The song would interact with one of the many harmonies, weaving into all other thoughts. That’s why the entity had been happy to have resulted from so many singers, the more singers the more nodes, which increased the speed and complexity of its thoughts. It could tell there was also a method for the Harmony to ‘upgrade’ itself by adding more nodes, more singers, but it required a dozen other singers on about the same level as it. Presumably this is how the Harmony would become smarter as it enthralled and took over more organic minds.
What confused me was how such an entity could come into existence, DNA was complex but could be formed through random chance given long enough. The Harmony, however, required several sources of sound to interact in sequence to form even a basic entity. Perhaps the first Harmony was created by wind rushing through caves and, by chance or luck, became alive? That seemed unlikely to me, but there was a lot I didn’t know about the worlds I traveled though.
Robert had said I needed to be strong if I wanted to help people, could the Harmony help me with that? Was it possible to ‘tame’ or ‘reprogram’ the entity? I didn’t know, and more over didn’t see how it would help. The Harmony was an extremely complex creature, capable of parallel processing the likes of which even human minds would have difficulty keeping up with, but I didn’t see how that could be of any help.
That’s not really why I was so drawn to the entity, though, it was simple curiosity. It was unique, and therefore special. Thus I felt a strong desire to understand it. Perhaps that’s just my nature, maybe I was one of the kids who, instead of fearing the monster in the closet, I wanted to meet it. Or maybe that’s how I cope with things I fear in general. Most things aren’t as scary once you understand how they work.
Others are far more terrifying.
My thoughts were interrupted as the door from the lobby swung open admitting a young woman, she looked about college age with a pretty face and blonde hair in a loose ponytail. Quite at odd with her well made-up face she wore a thick button up shirt and baggy cargo pants, very utilitarian for a woman who looks like she just got finished getting ready for a night on the town. Even more confusing was a large rifle with a short barrel she wore slung over a shoulder with the ease of someone who was used to its weight.
She glanced about the bar quickly before sitting down one stool down from me, unslinging her rifle and leaning it against the bar as she did.
“I’m the Saint of Battle,” she nodded greetings, waving at the barkeep.
“I’m… I haven’t picked a name yet,” I admitted.
“Keep it simple,” she advised me, pausing to order a large burger and dark lager from the bald barkeeper, “and pick something people tend to call you anyways. Makes introductions easier in new worlds.”
“This coming from a woman named ‘Saint of Battle?’” I smirked at her.
“That’s what people in my first world started calling me,” she explained simply, “considering every world I go to is at war, and I always show up in the middle of a battle descending a beam of light…” she shrugged.
“That sucks,” I empathized.
“I’ve seen worse.”
As if to emphasize her point another man burst through the door from the lobby, his gaze panicked as he looked about the room wildly. He locked eyes with me and almost ran across the bar to where I sat.
“Please, do you have any coins?” he asked desperately, “just a few hours? Please, I can’t take another trip!”
“Uhh, sorry,” I mumbled, leaning backwards, wondering what he was on about. Instinctively my hand moved to my traveler’s pouch, his wild eyes caught the movement and he lunged.
“Please, I don’t want to walk worlds anymore!” he shouted as he grabbed for my pouch, I stumbled backwards, knocking my stool over and running into the bar. I managed to keep him from grabbing the pouch that held one last coin, but he seemed desperate and wouldn’t back off. I was so distracted trying to hold this strange man off I didn’t see that the bartender had made his way around and now grabbed the newest man by the back of the neck.
“You know the rules,” the bald man said as the crazed man yelped in surprise as he was pulled off me. I took the opportunity to stuff my pouch into a pocket, thankfully the draw strings were long enough for that.
“No! Please!” the man shouted as he struggled against the massive bartender, “I’ll be good! I can’t take it anymore!”
He continued to plead as the barkeep drug him to the far wall of the bar, where the front door might have been if this were a normal establishment. The man grew more desperate as he saw where he was being taken, yelling and screaming while flailing wildly. None of which phased the bartender in the slightest as he casually through the man against the wall. The man seemed to freeze in midair, his screams going from desperate to pained. It was like he was being shredded as his body came apart cell by cell. It took nearly a minute for him to finally vanish and his screams to fade.
“What the hell?” I asked as the bartender returned to behind the bar.
“Some people have… difficult methods of moving between worlds,” the woman shrugged, taking a long drink from her lager.
“No kidding,” I muttered, standing my stool back up and sitting down, a little shocked by what I had just seen.
“If was less crazed he might have been able to get a job at a rest stop,” she replied, “we all have troubles. When I started traveling, I was wearing a miniskirt.”
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“Really?” I asked, shocked.
“Yup, was on the way to a Halloween party, a costume party,” the saint explained, “when a beam of light descended from the night sky and whisked me away. Then I appeared in the middle of a gunfight, dressed like a schoolgirl.”
“Explains the makeup,” I replied, “how are you wearing different clothes though? Do you not reset with each trip?”
“I do, but I the first thing I bought at my first rest stop was a change of clothing, the shop keep has a bunch of clothing that will travel with you. If he had body armor I’d wear that, but apparently there isn’t much demand for it,” she shrugged again, “what about you, you said you just started traveling?”
“Just started remembering my travels,” I replied, “seems I appear in worlds where humanity is facing some… great threat. At least, that’s what I’ve seen so far.”
“Most walker’s themes aren’t as blatant as mine, I think I was summoned to fight an alien menace, and who or whatever summoned me didn’t care if I kept going to other worlds that are fighting an alien menace.”
“You seem remarkably… calm for someone who apparently has to fight endless wars,” I commented.
“I’ve been at it for years now,” she shrugged, “frankly I’m grateful to be at a rest stop, been six worlds since my last. Good to speak with others about troubles that don’t concern me.”
“And with your looks I bet you’re never short for male attention,” I commented jokingly.
“I get too much of that,” she sighed, “I often show up among men who haven’t seen a woman in months. Trust me, I learned to defend myself fast.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I mumbled, feeling stupid.
“Don’t worry about it,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand, “none of them did more than get a bit grabby, even before I updated my clothing.”
“Well, if you want to hear about other people’s troubles, I could use some help picking a name,” I said slowly, after a long, rather awkward pause.
“Sure, exactly the kind of low intensity issue I’m happy to help with,” the self-declared saint of battle smirked at me over her burger.
“In the first world I remember they called me ‘Lord Traveler’ but another guy who was here earlier recommended I pick something else,” I explained.
“Take it from me, don’t put titles in your name, you’ll be better off just going with ‘Traveler’ or ‘The Traveler’ like from what one show…” she paused to scowl in thought, “had a guy called the Surgeon or something.”
“I imagined that name was taken already.”
“Probably is, but so what? Worried about the post office? They’ll find messages for you regardless of how many others there are with your name. Don’t know how they do it, don’t think they do either, but I know there is at least one other Saint of Battle, one Canoness of War and two Battle Saints, but I’ve never gotten a message meant for them.”
“Weird,” I said, wondering how one could possibly manage a logistics system between a likely infinite number of rest stops with an infinite number of people who could use them more or less at random.
“What’s your goal?” She asked, “do you have one yet?”
“I was told, by the same people who called me Lord Traveler, that I would go from world to world helping people,” I replied, “other then that I’ve just been muddling through.”
“A noble goal,” she nodded, “I recommend calling yourself The Traveler, like the guy from that show.”
“The Surgeon?”
“Or whatever it was, I haven’t exactly watched much TV in years.”
From there our conversation devolved into meaningless small talk, despite her youthful appearance the Saint was an interesting person. We swapped stories about past worlds and generally enjoyed ourselves. I know what you’re thinking, and no, our relationship never went beyond friends. Hard to have any kind of relationship as a traveler, much less one with another traveler. I would occasionally exchange messages with her in the future and even see her once or twice, but neither of us was really interested in anything more than casual friendship.
After a couple hours of pleasant conversation she got up and slung her rifle.
“Alright, I’m going to check my mail then go take a nap,” she replied, “one last bit of advice. If you ever end up in a red-entity rest stop, leave immediately.”
“Like, in the name of the entity?” I asked, “like how this one has ‘green’ in the name?”
“Ya, the red entities are… dangerous. Trust me, just leave if you find yourself in one.”
And with that she walked off, leaving me alone in the bar. As I mentioned earlier the old woman was gone and the off-duty staff guy had gone to work, I assume. I was about to check my timer to see how long I had left here when I felt a sudden pressure. It was like I was directly in front of the fog-horn of a great ship, the air itself was pressing down on me while my ears rang. As soon as I felt it, it ended, causing me to nearly jump to my feet.
“If you’re leaving, do it in the lobby,” the bartender reminded me.
“Was that the warning?” I asked, my heartrate still elevated from the strange pressure.
“Probably,” he shrugged. I checked the timer and, sure enough, I had seconds left. I hurried into the lobby and, after taking a deep breath, triggered my jump.
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And landed on a soft bed, looking up at a strangely familiar ceiling. Slowly I sat up, finding myself in a small room, wood walls, brass chamber pot in one corner, an old computer on a crude desk with a CRT monitor. It took me a moment to recognize the cell the Fair Folk had put me in. What were the chances I’d ended up back here? In the same spot I’d left from.
Before I could think any further the door opened admitting a single elf, elongated pure black eyes watching me, slender fingers closing the door behind himself.
“I’m sure you’re confused,” the elf said, “we heard you were subject to an unreliable teleportation spell, so we prepared this chamber to ensure you remain… contained. I must admit we were concerned when you didn’t reappear immediately. You’ve been gone for a few weeks now, but you look just as you did when you left. I guess your spell has some travel time.”
A few weeks? By my reckoning I’d been gone days, maybe it took time to travel between worlds? But the elf thought I looked the same as when I left? Oh, I’d taken off the wizard hat I’d been given and was wearing just my normal clothing. The only outward change would be the coin pouch, which I had stuffed into a pocket. Perhaps the elf didn’t notice? I hadn’t detected any spells scanning me, did they just assume their magics worked?
“Regardless, it is good to see that our spells worked,” the fair folk said simply, “you needn’t worry about your ‘travels’ anymore.”
And with that the strange elf creature turned and left, not bothering to give me a chance to speak. I’d gotten the feeling these ‘fair folk’ were arrogant before, but this one was beyond arrogant.
Thankfully it seemed I only had a couple days here, if the timer was any indication. I couldn’t initiate a jump until 24 hours before I would be forced out, so I had some time. I imagine I might have normally welcomed some time to relax but as I’d just left a rest stop I eager to get moving again. Without anything else to do I figured I’d take the chance to study magic more. I got a good look at the spells that surrounded my room with my quantum scanner. The spells were buried in the wooden walls somehow, so if I was a regular human mage of this world it would have been impossible to make out anything more than a general glow. In fact, judging by the lines of energy passing close to the surface it seemed like they intended that.
The spell forms were very small and complex, compared to what I’d seen among humans. There was no way even elven hands could tie knots that fine and precise. What was more interesting to me were the various components, all the spell forms I’d learned from the humans of this world closely resembled electronics. Capacitors, resistors, switches and gates. And the spells here had those, but there were twists and knots that would do nothing in electronics, or even worse causing a short. But they all seemed to modulate energy from the threads of power in different ways. Even with my sensors I couldn’t tell what most of them did, I would have to experiment. But as I didn’t want to tip them off that I could see their magics I couldn’t do it here.
Of course, through this all I was pissed. Analyzing their spell work was a distraction but it was only so long before I was back to being angry at being held here.
For a few minutes I considered unleashing the Harmony on them. With a few spells I could create enough nodes to transmit the entity. From there it would spread through the stuck up alien elves, but, after a moment imagining packs of ‘fair singers’ wandering the halls I decided against it. The most obvious concern was containing it, once I unleashed it I didn’t know when, or if, I’d be able to get out of this room. How far could the Harmony spread before I broke through the spells on the door to destroy them?
Another concern was if the Harmony would even effect their minds, something I didn’t know and couldn’t exactly test. Did the Harmony only work on humans, or would it work on anything with an organic mind? I didn’t know. And I would have to understand the Harmony far better before I felt confident using it as a weapon.
With nothing else to do I got down to doing just that. I put on a random show from the computer they’d given me and lay down in the bed to pretend to watch while working.
I created a new partition within my quantum implant and copied the Harmony to it. After ensuring it couldn’t get out and nothing it did would affect me I began the simulation, slowly feeding it processor time.
It realized something was wrong almost instantly, from its perspective it had been entering the server room of that ship just moments ago, and now it was sightless and trapped somewhere. I watched as it tried to manipulate a body it no longer had and slowly grew more panicked. I was surprised when it realized it was no longer in an organic mind, it began testing its new environment and tried to figure out where it was.
That was good enough for the first test, I’d identified how it accessed various senses and manipulated a human body. For a second simulation I constructed a ‘virtual head’ for it to inhabit. It was a painstaking process converting digital signals to neural transmissions then to sound, and back, all within the confines of a simulation, but I had nothing but time right now.
A couple hours and several episodes of whatever I was watching later I was ready for another attempt. Of course, the first simulation failed, freezing up as it struggled to process everything. Eventually, another few hours later, I got a simulation of the entity with a ‘virtual head’ to run, albeit slowly. I would have to optimize the code later, for now this was sufficient.
‘Can you hear me?’ I said to it, the message converted into a neural signal, like from a human ear, then back to sound that it could ‘hear’ in the confines of the simulation. I saw it react, instantly attempting to begin singing from the false mouth, thankfully my protections held and all I saw was a line of random letters as my code attempted to parse the singing. The waveform matched the siren song, it heard me but didn’t seem to care.
Or perhaps it didn’t understand.
It hadn’t gotten any information from my brain so it wouldn’t have learned to speak. That would make communication difficult, so I ended the simulation and began thinking of how to overcome that little bug. Hours later I was working through creating a virtual copy of the language center of my brain, and giving it access to that, when I fell asleep.
When I woke I had only hours till I could trigger a jump and that became my focus.