Helmet-Hair and Sophia

Normally, summonings crept up on Taylor over a period of days. They felt like the hand of Fate was rummaging in his neighborhood, looking for him, narrowly missing him but getting closer with every attempt. That made a lot of sense when one considered the larger part of a summons was dedicated to finding and locating the target. This one closed in fast, leaving him with barely enough time to shrug on his pack while he ordered the train to halt. He leaped out of the car while shouting instructions to his bulwark.

"Get on the link and let Mika know what's happening. Then assemble the return circle and wait for me. If it works …" A gigantic hand of Fate and Magic seized him from one world and threw him bodily into the next.

Summonings were mind-numbing affairs. The intense magic aura and violent disorientation had a lot in common with being punched in the head. Most people would require several minutes to get their feet under them again. Taylor wasn't most people. Not only was he magically very strong, possibly the strongest in Tenobre now that Zorda was dead, but he had experience. He only needed a moment to clear his head and take stock of his situation.

The first thing he noticed about his new surroundings was a hand reaching out, attempting to fasten a collar around his neck. To his eyes, it glowed with complex magic. He swiped the shaft of his spear at the offending hand with all the force he could muster and felt a bone break. He followed that with prayers for protection and strength, silently and instantly recited as complex words instead of simple verses. To his surprise, the prayers worked.

That fact alone made the inconvenience of a summons worth his while, assuming his plan for returning to Tenobre actually worked. He had never been able to use one world's magic system in another world, until now. Maybe he could use Nexus prayers because he was the author of the Nexus origin. Or maybe it was the soul-anchor he left behind in Tenobre so he could make the journey back, forming a connection between the worlds. Whatever the reason, it was a major discovery for him. But he didn't have time to celebrate, because he had immediate problems to deal with.

He was surrounded by soldiers in dark uniforms, holding tall clear shields that formed a wall around him. Taylor spun his spear in an arc, just to keep them back a pace, and blessed his spear with sharpness. If they wanted to enslave him, they'd have to kill him first. Without uttering a word he picked a man at random and charged, knocking him back hard enough to ram him into a wall. Taylor followed through and, with the Word for speed in his mind, found himself behind their thin shield wall. He dropped his spear in the close quarters and resorted to the flat side of his bronze sword and the rim of his shield, breaking bones and making mayhem. Their only weapons were electrified batons, but they weren't potent enough to bypass his protections.

There wasn't much space to work with. The twenty or so men in the room with him took up most of the room, aside from the small magic circle where he had appeared. Taylor found himself at the wrong end, opposite the door. If he had turned right instead of left when he broke their line he might have ended up near an exit. Instead, he was at the back of the room, his back to the wall, while more soldiers crowded in. Their shield wall was three deep now.

So far he hadn't killed anybody, and they hadn't attacked him with with intent to kill. He seared their eyes with a flash of light then smashed a huge hole in the wall behind him with the pommel of his sword. The cut stone blocks shattered like glass. A large storeroom beckoned on the other side, so he planned to jump through the hole and seal it up behind himself. He could use Overlook and disappear, then wait quietly while they attempted to find him.

A commanding voice cut through the noise of crying and groaning people. All those still standing knelt before Taylor and put their shields and weapons on the ground. A tall woman remained standing, dressed in dark slacks and a matching jacket, white shirt, and colorful neckwear tied in a bow on one side. Her hair was cut and shaped like a large helmet over her head. It even gleamed like metal from whatever substance she put on it. Looking around at his opponents Taylor could detect traces of a similar hairstyle among the soldiers, but smaller and more muted. Their clothes were dark blue utility pants and blouses, neatly creased and decorated with insignia he didn't know how to decipher.

Since they seemed to be done fighting, Taylor put his sword away in its sheath but kept his enhancements up. He shaped a large amount of mana over the room and healed everyone, all at once. It wasn't a very nice thing to do, because combat healing hurt enough to raise new cries of pain. If they decided to fight again he wouldn't hold back: he would fill the room with their blood and limbs.

Taylor and the helmet-haired woman eyed each other from across the room.

"Phillip," he said to her, pointing at himself. He chose his disciple name because it had the most title attached. He also bowed, not too deeply, with an ornate motion involving both his hands. He couldn't afford to be mistaken as subservient, but neither should they think he was without graces.

Helmet Hair didn't answer. Instead, a younger woman stepped around from behind her. Her clothes were similar, but silky and dyed a far brighter shade of blue. The lining of her jacket shone with gold thread. Instead of wearing her hair like a helmet, she wore it in tight curls that brought her long hair up off her shoulders. In her hand, she held the collar, a necklace really, made of alternating ovals of intricate silver work and blue stone cabochons linked together.

"Sophia," she said, pointing at herself.

"Sophia," repeated Taylor, and bowed again.

Sophia held the collar out to him but he refused to move towards it. Instead, he pointed at it, then pointed to her neck. If it wasn't some kind of slave collar then she shouldn't mind wearing it.

Sophia and Helmet-Hair talked it over for a few seconds, then the younger woman lowered the necklace over her head.

"What does that do, I wonder?"

"It gives the wearer the power to speak all languages," said the young woman. "Why did you react to it so violently?"

"Because I didn't know what it was. Obviously. For all I know, it's a magical item that compels obedience."

"It's silver and sapphire. These are precious materials here. Who would make a slave collar like that?"

"You never heard of some obscenely rich person putting a gold collar on an exotic pet?"

"We wouldn't summon you just to make you into some kind of pet." Sophia looked a little amused by the idea.

"I only have your word for that." Now she was offended. Taylor crossed his arms and regarded her more carefully. Sophia's clothing was made from subtly patterned cloth and her neckwear was a scarf of many colors gathered at the throat with a brooch made from a faceted red gem. She was the most important person in the room. Probably.

The uniformed guards were still kneeling while watching him intensely. Helmet-Hair was doing something with mana, but it was faint. It looked like some kind of self-enhancement work.

"Tell Helmet-Hair to stop what she's doing," said Taylor. "In exchange, I'll remove all of my enhancements except protection from physical damage."

"He called you Helmet-Hair," said Sophia to the older woman, and then relayed his demands. The mana flow around her stopped, and in response Taylor kept his promise. At this point, they were mostly de-escalated.

Helmet-Hair said something in an annoyed tone of voice.

"Captain Blucher wants you to know that her hairstyle is very popular right now, unlike my own which is considered old-fashioned. Are you sure you don't want to wear the necklace? It would make this a lot easier."

"After I've had a chance to examine it closely, I'll consider it. It might do all kinds of sneaky things besides convey languages." That had upset her some, too. She was offended by the implication she was being anything but friendly to him.

"Did everyone get healed up okay?"

Sophia checked with her captain. "She says everyone is fine. Is it okay if they stand up?"

"Yes, but give us some space and don't put anyone behind me. If you try to box me in I'm going to react badly." The uniformed men and women began to move out of the room, leaving only the captain, Sophia, and Taylor.

"Why are you so hostile?"

"I'm hostile?" Taylor let his anger show and pointed at Sophia sternly. "You kidnapped me, and before I could get my head together, you tried to put a mysterious magical item around my neck without any explanation whatsoever. My actions are perfectly reasonable. But you shouldn't have to worry about me much longer. I'll be going back very soon."

"Go back? You haven't heard our request yet! And it's impossible!"

"Whatever problem you have here is no business of mine. Whatever you think you can offer me, it's nothing that I want."

Sophia looked frustrated. She shook her head, making her curls bob back and forth. "Going back has never been done. Before you shout at me again, why don't we go somewhere more comfortable?"

"Is this the part where we drink warm liquids and eat tiny decorative foods?"

"I've never heard it described that way, but yes. That's exactly what we're supposed to do next."

The ornate foods were served in tiny shallow dishes. They were meant to be picked up between the thumb and forefinger, and the contents tossed into one's mouth all at once. Cubes of vegetables boiled in rich stock, minuscule spheres of honey stuck to rare meats, and spicy pickled florets were just some of the dishes on offer. The tea was so weak that Taylor decided its real purpose was to cleanse the palate between bites, and they served it in porcelain cups as translucently thin as anything the Nexus could produce.

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"We've exchanged names," said Sophia, "but we haven't really introduced ourselves. I'm Sophia Regardia, an officer with the Hero Liaison Office of Peshmera. I assist summoned heroes with acclimation and training. I'll be your guide here for a while."

Taylor had been to several worlds, but this was new. "You do this so often, you have a bureau for it? How many people do you summon?"

"We currently have a hundred and twelve heroes. About a quarter are in training, and the remainder are in the field." Taylor couldn't help but notice the math was interesting. Either they were recruiting a lot of people very quickly, or they had a high turnover due to retirement or death.

"My name is Phillip the Younger, Hierarch of the Nexus Reformed Unity Church. I'm also the current Calique Pasha. I have several other titles, but you would be less impressed by them."

"So, you're a high priest," summed up Sophia.

Taylor made a Lavradian hand gesture that indicated vagueness. "And temporary warlord, until this conflict is over. Hence, my need to return. I also work as a healer, a teacher of holy magic, a builder, an inventor, and sometimes a musician."

"You sound busy."

"I am very busy. That's why I can't be here. My own people will summon me back soon, so if you have something else you need to do, feel free to go ahead. I'll wait here for my counter-summons."

Sophia smiled confidently. "Will you at least hear me out?"

"It's your meeting." Taylor sniffed at one tiny dish and set it aside as being suspicious. It smelled like a familiar sedative. Silently, he said the prayer to protect himself from poison.

"You have been summoned to the Kingdom of Thrace, ruled by the Amador dynasty. The current monarch is Queen Orphea Amador the third. We brought you here using magic because, in the passage from one world to the next, you acquire a great power. This power is different for every person, but it makes you better than normal people. Heroes are practically worshiped in Thrace."

"What kind of work do heroes do?"

"They guard the queen, protect borders, hunt monsters. Generally, they're champions who protect the realm."

"Protect it from whom? Are you at war with someone?"

Sophia's eyes drifted away from his. "No, we're not at war with anyone."

"But you are fighting with someone, right? A police action to put down an insurrection? Border skirmishes over trade routes? Privateering to disrupt another nation's navy? A fighting deployment that has lasted for several years but isn't officially a war? Is any of this translating?"

"We haven't declared hostilities against any other nation."

"What about undeclared hostilities? Or strife within your borders?"

"Thrace spans much of the known world. There are always conflicts somewhere."

"So Thrace is an empire."

"We are the greatest power in the world," Sophia said proudly. "We are the light of civilization in a savage world."

"And if some of these savages have contrary ideas about how to live, you coerce them into your form of civilization. For their own good, of course."

"It's our duty to educate the ignorant."

The more Taylor heard, the less he wanted anything to do with Sophia's country. It would be easiest to just let her talk and ignore anything she said.

"Anyway," Taylor prompted her, "you were saying …"

"Our nation reveres strength. In exchange for being our champions, heroes are rewarded with immense fame and wealth. First, we send you to the academy, where you learn about our world and your new powers and get to know other heroes and the people you'll be working with. Then, you will receive your assignment based on your abilities and degree of skill. It's an exciting, purposeful life. As you grow stronger, you will be given greater purpose and greater rewards."

"Does this presentation normally win people over?"

"Always. Normally by this point, recruits want to know what their powers are going to be. Aren't you curious?"

"No in the least. I told you, I'm waiting for my return summons. I'll be out of your hair soon, and you can try again. With someone else." Taylor turned his back on Sophia and the silent Captain Blucher to fetch his nickleharp. It was a compact traveling instrument, stowed in a hardened case strapped to one side of his pack. Strapped to the other side was a half-dozen throwing darts 150cm long. It was an awkward arrangement, but keeping the darts nearby was a necessity.

"Until then, let's have some music." He started to tune up.

"Excuse me, but aren't you even a little curious about your new powers?"

"No." Taylor played the opening bars of Our Wild and Beautiful Fringe. He managed to sing the entire first verse before Sophia's impatience took over and she stopped him.

"Wait. Excuse me! You're being very rude. We went to a lot of trouble to bring you here. You could at least give us a chance!"

"No, you've been very rude," countered Taylor. "Tenobre's entire civilization hangs in the balance, but you come along and snatch me away without asking permission, and expect me to be grateful. That's some pretty entitled behavior. About what I'd expect from an empire."

The more he spoke, the angrier he felt about the situation. "I already have everything you're offering me, and it's all in the place you just dragged me from. So no thank you. The best way forward, for everyone concerned, is for you to leave me alone. Who the hell buys this scrap-loaf anyway?"

Sophia and Blucher spoke for a couple of mintes after that, but Taylor could only understand Sophia's side of the conversation. Taylor kept playing at reduced volume, but didn't sing since they were having a conversation.

Sophia interrupted him again. "Captain Blucher wants to know, what is scrap-loaf?"

"Leftover meat that has been chopped, boiled, spiced, and pressed into a loaf bound together with rendered fat or gelatin. It's a cheap, low-grade food. People seem to like it anyway, especially when they've been drinking, and it's served fried on flatbread with a yogurt sauce."

Sophia relayed that to Blucher, who demanded a turn wearing the necklace.

"We have the same thing, but ours comes in cans," said the captain. "It's good, if you don't think too hard about it."

Taylor nodded. "Tenobre preserves things in stoneware, but scrap-loaf is something you find in nearly every pantry. I can't suspend my judgment long enough to enjoy it. I supposed I'd eat it if I was really hungry."

"You don't have aluminum cans?"

"No. We have aluminum, but it's very new. We just recently started to design high-temperature furnaces. A whole world just opened up for us in the last few years. Glass, steel, aluminum, titanium. It's been very exciting."

"But you're still using bronze," noted Blucher. "If you have steel, why not use it?"

"Our steel doesn't take magical enhancements as well as the best bronze alloys. Disciples and their companions always fight while enhanced, so having weapons and armor that excel in response to magic is important. If I didn't have any mobeen then I would make weapons from monster bone instead. The steel alloys we have just don't compare. There's some research in this area, of course. We're always looking for something better."

"What are those big arrows?"

"They're darts. They're heavier than arrows, and you throw them with a lever. Let me show you." Taylor pulled the atlatl from the pack's pocket where he kept it, fitted one of the darts onto it and slowly went through the motions of throwing the dart. He left the cork safety block on the tip.

"Cursed monsters can get very large, so piercing their vitals with a sword is futile: you can't even reach their hearts. I once saw a noble try to kill a five-meter tall toad with a sword. It was a beautiful thrust, but it was too short by a meter and the toad swallowed him. The obvious solution is to use a spear, but …"

"… you don't want to stand next to a huge monster," Blucher finished for him.

"Hence the atlatl. The dart is tipped with an enhanced mobeen broadhead, backed by a heavy shaft for good penetration, and the vanes are canted to induce a stabilizing spin. Thrown by a fully-enhanced bulwark, it will pass clean through a cursed monster at thirty meters. They're easy to build and repair in the field."

"Why not use a bow?"

"We have crossbows that throw heavy missiles and hit like siege weapons. But they're very new, and if one breaks it would be almost impossible to repair it in the field. What do your heroes use?"

"All kinds of things. Some specialize in magic, others specialize in a specific type of weapon. It depends on the gift the hero receives when they are summoned, and their personal talents."

"What kind of people do you get for heroes? They can't all be like me, or you'd never get them to fight for you."

"Teenagers, mostly. Well educated, but inexperienced and struggling to find their place in the world. Younger people learn quickly, and we get more years of use from them. They all come from a world called Earth, mostly from the countries of Japan, North America, and parts of the European sub-continent. But, that wouldn't mean anything to you. You're the first person we've summoned that wasn't from Earth. I'm not sure what went wrong."

Those were some places Taylor hadn't heard about for a long time.

"I'm originally from Earth! I've been summoned a few times to different worlds, and you happened to catch me while I was in Tenobre. That's really odd. There's all these worlds with humans living in them, but you get all of your heroes from Earth. Why is that, you think?"

Captain Blucher did an odd head-bobbing motion that Taylor didn't know how to interpret. "The legend is, this world was settled by heroes from Earth. The royal family is descended from those heroes, and intermarries with the best summoned heroes to keep the bloodline strong. We have strong ties to Earth, so maybe that's why."

"If Earthlings were the first settlers, isn't everyone descended from heroes?"

"Are you suggesting commoner families have the same blood as royals?"

"I'm observing that noble claims to superiority are usually scrap-loaf. But hey," he added unconvincingly, "maybe your world is different."

Taylor started packing all his things away. He put the instrument back in its case and strapped it against the pack, then strapped the loose dart in with the others. "They've started the summoning. I'll be gone soon. You should stay at least a meter away from me or you might get sucked into the spell. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

Blucher grabbed Sophia's chair and pulled it backwards, dragging her out of range and surprising her. Sophia reclaimed her necklace.

"Why are you leaving?" The young woman truly didn't seem to understand. "We've offered you everything."

"You didn't offer me anything I wanted."

"What more could you want? Do you want women? You can have as many wives as you want!"

"I have a garden full of girls who want to spend time with me," said Taylor with a grin, "but I only need to keep one. I worked hard for my place there, and I want what I earned. Not some vague promises."

"Promises? We're the greatest nation in the world! You could be someone important here!"

"I'm already too important. Why would I want more of what I already have too much of? You don't listen very well."

Taylor gestured at the room. "Here's a tip. If you're so proud of your country then you should let your recruits see some of it. All the rooms I've been in are windowless, which makes me think you're hiding something or I'm a prisoner. And don't get into a fight as soon as you meet people. It leaves a very bad impression."

Taylor took a step back from the table as the spell around him began to peak. He strapped his pack firmly to his body.

"And you might try acknowledging that you're inconveniencing people by robbing them of the lives they had. Some of us don't appreciate being yanked around the cosmos against our will, you know."

In flash of light, he was gone.

Sophie and Blucher stood before Colonel Marqe's desk. Their superior was not happy.

"We finally get ahold of a veteran and you let him go?"

Sophie's face turned red. She wasn't used to being the person who got yelled at. As the liaison with the best record over the last year, she was more accustomed to praise.

"It was more like he escaped. His people had a contingency plan to recall him in the event of a summons. He was very hostile, right from the start. He broke my arm!"

"It looks fine to me," said the colonel off-hand. "He had fighting and healing skills?"

"He claimed all kinds of things. I don't believe half of it."

"I found him to be very credible," said Blucher. Unlike Sophie, she stood in a formal posture in front of her commanding officer. "He arrived ready to fight, he healed everyone who was injured, and he made some good points about our recruiting methods. His singing was lovely, but he was interrupted. A pity."

"Our recruiting methods are excellent," argued Sophia. "We have a superb track record."

"With novice children," Blucher countered, "who are desperate to prove themselves. We changed our summoning parameters, but we didn't change our persuasion."

Sophie disagreed. "Human needs are always the same."

"His needs were already being met elsewhere. Also, his experience has made him more skeptical than our usual recruit. This Phillip fellow understood exactly what we wanted from him, and he wasn't having it. He seemed like the kind of person who would fight for the colonies instead of against them. In my opinion, it's fortunate we got rid of him before he caused us problems."

The colonel made a note on the paper in front of him. "We need someone who can be indoctrinated or bought, but still has experience. That could be part of the parameters, but it also presents a problem. Someone who could be bought too easily might be lured away by Peshmera's enemies.

"Or someone who is unsatisfied with their station and wants something better," Sophia offered, eager to contribute something useful. "If they're unappreciated or they've been denied things they think they deserve, that's an opening for us."

"We'll try again at the next conjunction," decided the colonel. "Before then, I want a revised procedure from you on selection, initial contact, and persuasion. You're both dismissed."