“How could he be in the Labyrinth before it opened? That is not possible,” Jonas asked, incredulous, as the Zulu told of his tale.
“He was pretty much as he is, already. He swept across the villages. A few warriors tried to object, but he would kill them instantly, sometimes in various ways. Just to show he could, I guess. No one knew about the Great Labyrinth beyond the Gates, and so he was a God walking the Earth. The world existed as a background to his Presence, and no one could even do anything.”
“He is of a very high tier then? If you say he has, what, Adjustment XLV?”
Adjustment XLV
+1035 all Potentials, 225% faster levelling
“He never lets anyone get his descriptor. I peered once by boosting Gauge Enemy but I had to be quick and commit all to memory. I think that he is tier thirteen. At least, he has thirteen different types of Milestones of increasing primary potential.”
“45 total Adjustments seem a bit high, though, even for the tier. That is a gigantic number of Professions for one with Adjustment.”
“Yes. He has many odd Milestones, across many tiers. You know, I never made the link between Professions and Adjustment. In twenty years, he’s grown barely half a dozen levels and has never changed his primary one. But he has exactly as many Adjustments as he has normal Professions.”
“We got an extra one from our start. Even with one, we were not qualified for the Labyrinth. And then, we got another one when we forced the Gate open. But otherwise, that seems to be the base. One new Profession, one Adjustment.”
Jonas’ beer was empty. He absently gestured behind him for another one, before focusing again on the stranger.
“And then, he recruited you…”
“He quickly went through all the villages, bringing them the word of his rule. And every time, he brought in all the men of age, and picked the ones he wanted for the Labyrinth.”
“There are devices to assess non-Professional, but…”
“They measure aether flows across Potentials, but they’re not totally accurate,” the man said apologetically, before adding, “But yes. Mhambi can obviously peer into a mundane and see his or her exact potentials. This is how we got handpicked in the early days when he came to our village. All of us stood in front of him, and he pronounced me and Kwazele Chosen ones, then passed our brother. We wondered for a while why, before understanding what happened.”
“He was not choosing. He was finding.”
“In the early days, none of us knew how the Labyrinth really worked. Mhambi told us what he thought we needed, and little else. He started by teaching us how to read, then brought us into the Labyrinth to train.”
“You never went to school?”
Jonas thought about how the King had quickly decreed that every child in England had to be able to read, to make them ready in the case they could enter the Labyrinth later. If you knew in advance who would qualify, you could afford to teach only those people.
“The amaZulu never had the need for the written word. He brought that, saying that it would be hard to make sense of the Labyrinth otherwise. He trained a few, and then set us to train the rest while he reorganized the kingdoms. He wanted us to level as soon as possible, and fast.”
“Why? With all those levels, he could do anything himself.”
“Who knows with the God-King?” Zenzele shrugged. “A few years ago, one bold member of the Inner Chosen asked him about that in a council.”
“And what did he say?”
Zenzele’s voice shifted a bit. Although he was of course translating the original words, Jonas knew he was repeating those original words.
“I am at the End. I cannot grow while you remain low. This must be your Empire, not just Mine.”
“What does that means?”
“He never explained. Sometimes, you get a bit of him. Enough to think he is of the Zulu, enough to know he is not despite the appearance and tone.”
“That’s the part which bothers me a lot in your story, though. If he stepped out of the Gate the instant it opened, and no one had ever heard of him before… who is he? How did he get there?”
Jonas shook his head. After seeing the number, the unique number on all Gates, the speculation about previous Gates or other Gates had run rampant. But the fact that a Professional could be in the Labyrinth before it opened… that closed many ideas.
“He’s always talked about the future of the Zulus, but never of his past. The Inner Chosen, the ones like me that he brought closer to his trust, we’ve slowly figured out things, but never the full truth of his.”
“And along the way, you stopped believing in his divinity.”
“For the mundane Zulu, even for the average Chosen, who has never been in a team with him, it’s still easy to think of him outside of the rules. For us, it was the slow accumulations of odd things. Not just the fact that he had a Profession, albeit one that did not make sense at first. But many things, well before I could sneak a look and see his descriptor.”
“Like?”
“As I said, he taught us the written word, and then we found out he was using the very same letters as the Americans, and the French and you were using. We thought those were universal, but then we found out about how the Chinese and many other people had different ones.”
“So why did he use those?”
“Nobody knows. But the letters were the only one writing he’s ever used. And it’s not even the best to use. There are sounds in isiZulu that your letters don’t have, so you use awkward combinations to render them.”
“And at one point, you learned that Englishmen shared your King’s weirdness.”
“Well, the first time we heard of it was our French contact. The man Deschanel.”
Jonas felt the ember of his anger rise again. Of course, you had Deschanel involved in this. Oh, in the abstract, he could understand why they did not care about the Gate closer. In terms of the Labyrinth, it did not matter, since the Gates regenerated. But the dead of London might disagree. Emboldening the French was an offence that no Englishmen was going to forgive.
Jonas gulped some beer and realized that his tankard had been refilled without him noticing, engrossed with the Zulu’s words.
“So you’re working with the French. Why?”
“We’ve contacted everyone, actually. Separately, of course. The Americans were the easiest. There are enough descendants from the northern countries among them we can pass for locals. Nobody’s going to mistake us for slaves, after all.”
“The Chinese?”
“Their Highest Hero respects strength. Once you demonstrate your deep knowledge of the Labyrinth, she listens.”
“And now us.”
“We found out you were dispersing yourselves. Seeking wealth rather than strength. It’s only recently that you’ve realized the proper way of doing things.”
“Proper?”
“Each Great chief with his own retinue of warriors. That is how all Kingdoms should work. That’s how they worked before Mhambi Meshindi overthrew the proper order.”
Jonas didn’t try to correct him in the difference in relative status between hereditary peers and some tribal chieftains. Everyone projected their own conceptions on the others.
“And now, we are worthy of being contacted, because we’re worthy. Us?”
“Yes. Mostly. Even if you are still behind, no realm with access to the Labyrinth is entirely useless as a potential ally.”
“If you are seeking allies across the Labyrinth, then what for?”
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“To eliminate Mhambi Meshindi.”
Jonas should not have been surprised. It was obvious the man was acting behind his God-King’s back. But that was blunt.
“Why would you want to kill him?”
“He has upended the old ways. He has brought a new order that is not the Zulu way. One in which any of the Chosen are above all others and the rest are beneath your sandals.”
For an instant, Jonas wondered why that was any different from the usual order of the nobles and the commoners before realizing the contentious point. The man had spoken of the third brother, the one that wasn’t a Professional.
“He is above the Zulu, but he is not of us. He is something else, and he is changing the people into the image of Mhambi Meshindi, not the Zulu.”
The man was on a roll, barging ahead with his views.
“He’s spoken on how the amaZulu will be masters of the Labyrinth, and masters of the world in the end, but he’s brought in many other tribes already, and all of them are fuel for his force, just like the warriors he Chose first.”
“You do not trust him in the end.”
“No. Even a Chosen of the Khoisan can order a Zulu killed, and none should even blink in response. Mhambi Meshindi may promise much for us, but his actions belie his words.”
Given the vitriol and the specific target, Jonas wondered which of the man’s friends had once been the target of some… Khoisan… Professional. Or why. But the picture painted by the rogue Professional was becoming clearer. Their God-King believed in Labyrinth power, and little else.
It was a trap that was easy to get to. The British might believe in the order from the law, but give a man too much power, and… power would corrupt. At that tier, there would be little to prevent that from happening.
“How can you even try to kill a tier thirteen?”
“We would not ask if we didn’t think it can be done. Once you are in the upper tier six or low sevens, he can no longer kill you in a single hit. And you can also deal some significant damage, no matter what. Ultimately, it’s like a very, very high tier Legend.”
“A smart one. A very varied one. Notably, if he has that many Professions as you said. We would die in a fight against that.”
“As long as we win, anyone who died can be brought back.”
“You would need hundreds. Maybe thousands.”
“We’re counting on a few tricks. Some, he doesn’t think they can apply to him. Some… I’m not sure even he knows them. He’s given many hints about the workings of the Labyrinth materials, but what he truly knows remains unsure.”
Zenzele shrugged apologetically.
“That’s why we’re slowly building the alliances. Yours is the last of the four. Meshindi hates you most, for some reason, even if you always seemed to be behind everyone else.”
“Do you really think you can do it?”
“Oh, not today. The higher everyone is, the easier it will be. It is as he said, he gets maybe one level every few years. His levels may be huge by themselves, but every year brings the Professionals of the world much higher. Once we have enough… then, we will strike. In a decade or two.”
“That’s… long term planning.”
“We are many and we can afford to. Mhambi Meshindi is patient and wants to grow the nation, but so are the True Chosen of the Zulu. He said himself, and it seems to be true; the ones who prowl the Labyrinth are no longer mortal. The Labyrinth itself sustains you.”
“He said that?”
“He said that decades did not matter. That centuries did not matter for the Chosen ones. Meaning every one of us.”
The confirmation hit Jonas like a punch. Of course, people had speculated. Professionals did not get ill, they did not suffer from scars or the ravage of age… and people had started to wonder about it since the only Professionals who died of old age had retired from the Labyrinth years ago.
But the man from the Labyrinth itself seemed to know from experience. And besides, Adjustment gave you Potentials, it did not give you levels. Those, you needed to earn, and that would take a very, very long time to get into the 8000.
“I will need to report this. I cannot commit on my own.”
“Yes, you can, if you want. You know your Professionals. You can talk to them. Your future rulers are Chosen ones and they must see the wisdom of this,” he said, pointing to the folded newspaper on the table.
“As long as you are careful, we will not care. What we seek is your support, but you decide how it is coming. By then, you will be among the strongest.”
“Assuming us English go along… how does that work?”
“The way we do it is to set some regular meeting in the depths of the Labyrinth,” Zenzele said. “That’s a bit harder for me there. I have kept a Fast Travel access to your Gate, but it’s one I can lose at any time. Getting a shortcut to your zones is very hard, and I only know of a tier five alternative.”
Jonas thought quickly.
“Do you know Krilziar? That’s a tier-two zone.”
“Why yes. It’s used for some maverick teams of ours when they need to challenge themselves against complicated lairs, but…”
“A single animated giant mushroom lair, the Spring Recycler.”
“Yes, that’s one. Not too popular since it is solo, but…” the man fell silent for a second before stating “You know of the shortcuts.”
“We know about the so-called trunk zones,” Jonas acknowledged.
“As I should have expected from one with the secret powers of the Labyrinth,” Zenzele said, faintly smiling.
“We were lucky.”
“The Infinite Labyrinth has no such thing as Luck among its potentials. But we’ve swept across our zones, to make sure there are no unknown trunk openings. Krilziar does not have one.”
“It does. My guess is that you’ve missed one lair. One of our tier-four openings in the trunk lands in a treetop lair. Unlabelled from the ground, and almost impossible to find unless you know it’s there,” Jonas explained before asking the obvious, “Are there many trunks?”
“The Zulu know of two. There’s a short one, from tier one to tier five, which we use to move around and keep track of the general Professional activity. The other starts at tier five and goes at least beyond seven, but Mhambi Meshindi forbids us from using it.”
“Why?”
“He is afraid of what lies beyond. Once there were enough Chosen he could trust, he set a guard there to warn him if… others come.”
Jonas was surprised for a second before he realized the obvious. If there was one man in the Labyrinth before it opened, there would be more. Unless he was really some unique entity, which Jonas found very hard to believe. As the rebels said, there were too many oddities leading to a man rather than a supernatural being.
“Now that all is settled, I need to go. Mhambi Meshindi expects us to grow, not to stay fat on our arses. I’m the defender, so while I am away, my team can only romp lower tiers for some pitiful experience.”
“I still don’t know your Profession,” Jonas said.
The man hesitated before replying, “I am a Tempered Shieldmaster. I look forward to seeing more of the blessed of the Labyrinth.”
Then rainbow light swirled, marking his Recall, and drawing attention from the patrons.
“He was in a hurry, I think”, Jonas said in apology for the rudeness. At least the man had left a banknote to pay for his drinks.
“You know, Sims, I mostly expected you to bring me some exotic new fact of the Labyrinth you’ve just remembered. Not actual politics.”
“I definitively did not expect to get into that one. Especially with that weird God-King of theirs.”
“I can easily understand why a high tier Professional could carve himself a realm. It’s a tempting proposition if you are unopposed. Would not happen to an Englishman, but still.”
The Duke of Wellington frowned.
“That could be a complication. If they are allied with the French…”
“I don’t think they particularly favour the French. No more than anyone else. The Zulu struck me as most interested in just getting high tier Professionals, not where they came from. Although he noted that we were very low,” Jonas explained.
“We are going to carry that Royal Company mistake with us for a long time,” Wellesley sighed.
“Jack Millard said he was breaking into tier seven soon,” Jonas added helpfully.
“It’s been noted, but still. So, when are you supposed to meet that rebel?”
“They use a lunar calendar, apparently. On a full moon, apparently on August 7th. And since we can get there, in their own territory.”
“I can’t believe they know about the trunk. Well, a trunk. That’s awkward. And we really need to sweep our territory for other trunks. Preferably without anyone noticing.”
“If their God-King knows all about the Labyrinth, it is not too surprising. The Zulu has carefully declined to tell me of the entrances he knows about, though. He hinted he only had one available tier five since he had difficulties coming here discreetly.”
“Or he wants to engage in deception.”
“Until I confirmed that we knew about trunk shortcuts, he was not aware of ours. I do think he really has some difficulty getting to Grailburg. I mean, they needed to come through the USA. Unless their trunk opens up close, it becomes harder and harder to get there unseen, because you need lairs.”
“I’m going to have someone check the records of the Atlantic clippers, to confirm that one.”
“So what do we do?”
“Nothing. For now. Their goals are in the far future, so they say. Do they want to cultivate a relationship with us? Let them do it. And, of course, if they could give us some of their inventions, instead of giving them to the French, that would be much better. Hopefully, this will not matter for long.”
“I’ll ask.”
“Do not forget to come to me before you go to meet him. Can you make it?”
“Of course. He wanted just me to meet him, but I’ll probably need at least Ira or Jonathan and maybe Guss to deal with the guardian lair for our first one. Even if I get lots more levels before then, it wouldn’t be easy getting past that one solo. The next meetings will be easier, and I might be able to deal with it solo at one point.”
“Well, then. I have up to August to ponder this development.”
“Babbage will be very interested in hearing about this deep Labyrinth thing.”
“You are not to talk to him about that,” the Duke replied instantly.
“Yes… but why?”
“And you are not to mention any of this with the Agni commanders either. That does not concern them. I am not going to expect you to stay silent with your own team, notably if you need them. But impress on them the need to remain discreet.”
Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, contemplated the stack of papers and reports on his desk. It was a rare occasion where he was truly stymied. You suffered setbacks in war, that was a given.
But the young Professional that had just left his office had given him a huge problem. One Tyrant Professional ruling an Empire was bad. A second one, notably if he was that powerful… that was another complication he could have done without.
Letting him play in his home country might be tempting, but Arthur did not think the British Empire could afford to let that happen for too long. Those rebels might be willing to wait until they had the required forces, in a decade. Or two. But he doubted they could afford that. Even if he was actually building the very kind of force the Zulus sought.
Once you saw what Napoleon had grasped in a decade, you knew you could not afford to let that creature expand its rule over an entire continent. Africa might be poor and undeveloped, but if its rulers were any smarter or more organized, they could turn it around. One had to look at China, once it got its own weaknesses sorted. He did not know how many Professionals you could raise from Africa, but if they started like China, with someone looking for both quality and quantity… they could survive the fall of their God-King and remain a problem rather than fall apart.
But one at a time. First, they had to subdue the French sitting at the gates of England.
Then, maybe, they could negotiate with the Zulu from a better position.
Tempered Shieldmaster
(tier 7)
Required: 365 STA, 292 WIS, 188 FOR
Provides:
+65 health/+35 endurance/+20 mind/+15 aether per level
+1 Milestone/10 levels
Tempered Shieldmaster Milestone: +19 STA, +14 CON, +8 INT, +4 AGI, 5% shield defence per STA
Skillset: Personal / Defence