The Farfinder would have been getting crowded if not for all the extradimensional space. Mette and Kes were both living there, Perry had a room, and Nima was imprisoned in a recreation of the bedroom she’d had in her home world. There hadn’t really been any choice in the matter, given how important it was to remove her from the playing field, but it was a soft imprisonment. Mette kept her company, and there had been no further attempts at hostage taking.
Perry’s eyes were on the monitor that tracked Third Fervor, who was convalescing. She healed fast enough that in another week, she might be back at full strength, aside from the lasting damage to her face.
He wanted to kill her where she lay, and argued with Hella about it.
Because prognostics took some time, “doing prognostics” meant making a plan with a built-in timer. After six hours had passed, Perry would go to where Third Fervor was resting and either kill her on the spot or force her to use the portal. He had been given the tracking magic and software to use, a surprisingly large piece of equipment stuffed in the shelfspace and mediated by Marchand, which would allow him to know where she’d gone off to. In theory, the Farfinder would get him at the end of six hours before he’d embarked on the plan, because their prognostics would be done by then, running through a possible scenario. Perry’s plan was to stalk her like a wounded gazelle, interrupting her sleep, which she needed and he did not. Of course, the main plan was to just get her while she slept.
Instead, they’d pulled him after four hours.
“Caves,” said Hella, hands folded across her chest.
“Caves,” said Perry slowly.
“We can get you places with a door,” said Hella. “We can also physically move the ship at great speeds and set you down anywhere on the surface of the planet. But what we don’t currently have the capacity to do is to place you inside of a building with no doors or a cave system. And unfortunately, Third Fervor can both sense and teleport to any cave system within thirty miles of her, including caves with openings smaller than you are.”
Perry sighed. “Okay, so I would need to kill her instantly or sneak up on her in the dead of night making no sound. Can we run prognostics on that?”
“We’re pretty sure that she would just turtle if she can’t fight,” said Hella. “Going to a cave system must be something she’s worked out — she’s only a portal away. If we had Orchard missiles, we could just bomb their house and kill her and the queen in one fell swoop, but our armaments aren’t that strong.”
“Rod from god?” asked Perry.
“What’s that?” asked Hella.
“It’s, uh, a method of warfare where you drop something very dense and heavy from very high in the sky,” said Perry. “Kinetic bombardment, I think it might have been called. March?”
“I am familiar with the technique,” said Marchand. “Though Earth 2 referred to it as a gravity cannon, and it was not thought to be particularly viable as a method of attack, given concerns about accuracy and cost. However, given the ship can easily maneuver into orbit and prognostics can be used for targeting, it does seem possible to drop ten tons of tungsten on an arc that would hit our target. The damage would be immense.”
Perry nodded. “Or a nuclear weapon, we could use one of those too if we make one. I could sneak one into range without her knowing. Actually, I’m pretty sure that stealth would be viable, even if she’s sleeping in the armor now.” That was a change, and it wasn’t clear how long it would last. Second sphere was the only thing that had made sleeping in armor tolerable for Perry.
“You understand that my objection is not about viability, right?” asked Hella. “We want her alive because she’s not a threat to anyone at the moment, and in theory, won’t be a threat moving into the future. She wants to serve her queen, and her queen wants revenge against you, but your advantage is your ability to hide, especially if you have our help. She can’t touch you. She’ll be more difficult to fight later on, but if you want to deprive her of sleep, or throw a rock from space, you can do that later, to the extent you can do that now. If we monitor her now, she’s a trap for Fenilor. And potentially, she’s an asset against him.”
“She wasn’t able to finish the job,” said Perry.
“Neither was he,” said Hella. “I reviewed the same footage you did. They want to kill each other for ideological reasons, and if they fight each other, we have an advantage.”
“Unless he kills her outright,” said Perry.
“We can’t track him,” said Hella. “But we know where she is, and if he comes close — within a half mile — we’ll be able to see the hole he leaves. It’s far better for us to see the hole he leaves when he’s coming for her, rather than seeing it when he’s coming for you. She’s better bait than any bait we could leave out. And in the meantime, he might bite on traps we set for him. Time is on our side here. There are things we’re still setting up, things we still need to acquire.”
Perry had grudgingly agreed. Third Fervor was a threat, but she wasn’t the major one, and even after she had healed back to her full strength, he was fairly sure her armor would stay weakened. It wasn’t just the things he’d said, it was that the bullets had actually pierced her, and that had to take a psychological toll. Her resolve had been weakened, and she’d had it confirmed that her resolve had been weakened.
Once the damage to his armor and body had been fully repaired, Perry went to the northern hemisphere to get one of the masks that Dirk had told him about.
~~~~
The world was, in theory, multicultural, but in practice the variations in the races and their cultures, as well as their historical distributions, meant that some places were much more homogenous than others. Elves preferred the cold, which was one of the reasons they went around scantily clad in temperate regions, while dwarves and their pig-wives preferred hotter climes. Far enough north, the shrimp-headed pennic couldn’t even survive, which meant that the melekee, orcs, and elves dominated.
Perry was in his armor with his helmet off, hidden beneath heavy furs that wouldn’t mark him as terribly out of place. If he had to give an Earth analog to the place he was going, it would be Siberia or northern Alaska, except it was more populated than either of them. The lanterns allowed cities to flourish almost anywhere, regardless of whether there was good farmland, in much the same way that Earth’s global logistics infrastructure allowed people to survive solely through regular resupply.
Tetrankersh was about as out of the way as a civilization could get. It vaguely reminded Perry of the Nordic countries, though he’d never actually been to the Nordic countries, only studied their maps. Maybe it was the snow or the conifers.
The city itself was huddled around its domes like they were campfires, and so far as Perry knew, that was essentially true — the domes could make almost anything aside from metal, and one of the uses was to transform magical energy into heat energy, though he didn’t know the specifics. There were three of the domes, and every single one of the buildings around it had a gray utilitarian quality to it, with little of the artwork that adorned every other city that Perry had been to. It was the West’s view of how communism was supposed to look, drab and monotonous, with all the soul sucked right out of it. It probably didn’t help that it was the dead of winter.
Perry followed the GPS, Marchand, to the address he’d been given. He had no reason to believe that this version of Moss would know he was coming, since news simply didn’t travel around the world all that fast.
He pounded hard on the door, and it took a long while for the door to open only a small crack. Inside was Moss, staring hard, looking Perry up and down.
“Come in then,” said Moss.
Perry moved inside, through an entryway, but didn’t remove the furs, because beneath them was his armor. It would take some explaining.
The interior of the house explained where all the color had gone. The walls were an aggressive orange color, but Perry could barely see them because the living room was cluttered with plants. There was a single large chair and a table in the center of the room, both for Moss’ height, and a long overstuffed couch that was a bit taller and might, in a pinch, have served as a bed. A bowl of fish sat on a claw-footed table and a bookcase was filled with enough books that it could almost have been considered a small library in its own right.
“This … is your house?” asked Perry. It was stiflingly warm, and a touch humid, which might have been because of all the plants.
“Who are you?” asked Moss. He had his arms folded across his chest. He looked different than the one Perry had met on the airship. His hair was shorter, though he still had a full beard, and he was wearing clothes that seemed to suit the warm house, showing thick, muscular arms. “I don’t know you.”
“Peregrin Holzmann,” said Perry. “Though I doubt that name means anything to you. I was sent here by Dirk Gibbons.”
Moss sighed like an air mattress deflating. “Gibbons wants something from me, does he?”
“A mask,” said Perry. “A collection of masks, actually. Masks for all occasions.”
“And he knows that no one is supposed to know about them?” asked Moss.
“He did seem to know that,” said Perry. “Exigent circumstances.”
Moss sighed. “Then I suppose I’ll get some masks for you, shall I?”
“Just like that?” asked Perry.
“Is there something I should know?” asked Moss, raising a hairy eyebrow.
“No,” said Perry. “I mean … I would have thought you’d want proof that I had actually been sent here by Dirk Gibbons instead of getting his name from a ledger somewhere. I don’t even have a letter from him.”
Moss frowned. “Where are you from? Originally, I mean?”
“Far away,” said Perry.
“Former colony?” asked Moss.
“Uh,” said Perry. He considered that, and decided that by some definition, the United States of America counted. “Technically.”
“There are certain people who have, in their minds, a way of doing things,” said Moss. He went to sit down in his chair and gestured for Perry to take the couch. He did it slowly, reluctantly. “They always want there to be less trust, more verification, more paperwork, more proof. It’s how they were brought up.”
“I think it would be easy for an enemy to come here and steal something that’s supposed to be secret,” said Perry. “All they would need is knowledge, and that can’t be that hard to get. A team of spies, three of them, could rob this place blind if you’re just giving things away at the mere mention of Dirk Gibbons.”
“Perhaps,” said Moss with a shrug. “There are resources here, and secrets too.”
“You’re not concerned,” said Perry. “That’s fine, I suppose. I’m just surprised.”
“It’s not impossible there are spies here,” said Moss. “It’s not impossible that you are one such spy. There are two kingdoms left, and both have unfurled their tentacles. The suckers are latched on.”
“There’s only one kingdom left,” said Perry. “Has news of what happened in Berus not reached here yet?”
“Shipments are rare, word is rare,” said Moss. He shrugged. “I’d thought it would take more time for the kingdom to fall.”
“The king was assassinated,” said Perry.
“Well, I’ll hope that someone’s prepared a digest for me, and that it made it on the airship this time,” said Moss. He folded his hands in his lap. “I suppose we should get on with it, since I have some shipments that should have come in with you.”
“I didn’t come on an airship,” said Perry.
“Hrm?” asked Moss. He raised a bushy eyebrow. “How so? Overland in winter is —”
“Magic,” said Perry. “I was going to say that I don’t have time to explain it all, but I guess in this case, I do. And … I already explained it to you once.”
Moss was very still for a moment. “Ah. You’re a time traveler.”
“Wha-what?” asked Perry. If he’d really wanted to, he might have been able to clamp down his confusion with second sphere and been calmly impassive.
Moss laughed. “Only joking. Whatever magic it is that brought you, was this one of the reasons you came?”
“No,” said Perry. “Or … I don’t think it’s why Dirk sent me, but he’s a shifty guy, so it’s difficult to say. If he’d asked me to, with no masks to speak of, I would have come. He knows I have a soft spot for you.”
“And how is the other me doing?” asked Moss.
Perry grimaced. “Dead, unfortunately.”
“Ah,” said Moss. He didn’t seem fazed.
“Another has been, er, made,” said Perry. “But the one I knew best is gone.” He cleared his throat. “I was your bodyguard, for a time. We got to know each other, at least a little bit.”
“And you failed in your duty?” asked Moss.
“No,” said Perry. “Or maybe yes, depending on how you count it. I wasn’t on duty at the time, but maybe I should have been there.”
“I feel no close kinship with the clones,” said Moss. “We get along though. There’s another that lives here. Perhaps you’ll meet him before you go.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” asked Perry. “I mean, as far as secrecy goes?”
Moss laughed. “Did Dirk tell you nothing? You’re in a research town. This is where the machine was first made.”
“Oh,” said Perry. “I … had kind of wondered why it was out in the middle of nowhere.”
“Tetrankersh dates back to the early revolution,” said Moss. “The central dome, it was one of the first. This place was meant to make weapons, or defenses if we could, to develop the tools to fight against the monarchies.”
“And decades later, that’s still ongoing?” asked Perry. “I would think that living here would be, uh … not the culture. You’re so divorced from the wider world.”
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“We’re united in common purpose,” said Moss. “But you’re right that it’s not how it’s supposed to work. We operate under our own Command Authority, and requisition material support from all across the globe. It’s necessary.”
“Necessary for what purpose?” asked Perry.
Moss shifted uncomfortably. “Do you have something you can show me?” he asked. “Something that proves you came here without an airship?”
“You’re asking for proof now?” asked Perry. “Uh … one sec.”
Perry began taking off the heavy furs that concealed his armor, with the mittens being taken off first. Moss’ eyes widened as the blue power armor was revealed, and widened further when Perry reached into the shelf space and pulled out his sword. Perry hovered above the floor for a moment, long enough that Moss could watch, then set himself down. Some of it, at least, Moss would assume was from Implements.
“And Dirk sent you here?” asked Moss. “He wants you to have more power?”
“There are powerful enemies,” said Perry. “You didn’t die to simple rebels.”
“Dirk was always quick to grab at power,” said Moss. “I’m mostly surprised that he sent someone here to grab it.” He paused. “No, I’m really surprised to see someone with these powers at all.” He looked over the armor. “This is like the ones we send down?”
“Uh,” said Perry. “I don’t know how those work, exactly, but no.” He mostly had experience with the hulking pieces of armor sitting idly by while Kerry Coast City was bombed, unable to do anything, not even help with search and rescue. He hadn’t been impressed.
“Mmm,” said Moss. He was still looking at the armor. “You said you had time to explain?”
Perry nodded. “Time is on our side, at the moment.” He didn’t really believe it though. So far as he knew, the other two were thinking the same.
Perry started with an explanation of different worlds, including the one he’d come from and the ones he’d visited. He talked about thresholders and the patterns that had been observed so far, leaving out some of his early naive assumptions about how it worked. The breadth of worlds was difficult to describe in brief, and the Farfinder didn’t have a good taxonomy, but Perry tried his best to paint a picture. Moss sat silently, but the dwarf had always been a little difficult to read.
It wasn’t until Perry got to the arrivals of thresholders on Markat that Moss finally spoke.
“Lay out the timeline for me, as precisely as you know it,” he said. His voice was tightly controlled.
Perry nodded and gave the dates, aided by Marchand.
Moss swore. “This whole time,” he said.
Perry waited.
“Dirk didn’t know about this work,” said Moss. “I’m sure of it. But you’ve given me a missing puzzle piece, the solution to a problem that we’ve been working on for a very long time.”
“You have a way to detect the punches,” said Perry. “Huh.”
“Punches?” asked Moss. “Is that what you call them?”
“Uh,” said Perry. “The introduction of physics from one world into another by way of a fourth-dimensional tunnel, that’s a punch, yeah.”
Moss ran his fingers through his hair. “And there’s going to be another?”
“Not like the ones from before,” said Perry. “This will be an exit, it’ll have different directionality.” He frowned. His understanding was very thin. The higher dimensional stuff got mathy in a hurry. “Why, do you have … some way of interacting with it?”
Moss nodded. “You can travel quickly? Get something to Dirk? That one, I mean, the one that’s off where the action is?”
“I can,” said Perry. “I wouldn’t say he’s a friend, because I don’t imagine that a guy like that actually has friends, but we’ve been working together. You want me to transport something dangerous?”
“It’s a sheaf of papers,” said Moss. “So yes, quite dangerous.”
Perry nodded slowly. He was obviously going to read those papers at the next available opportunity. In fact, Marchand had probably already started dumping nanites, but more would need to be spread around the place. And the Farfinder would have to investigate this place, snooping through their books to see what fruits their research had produced.
“Come,” said Moss, hoisting himself up from his chair. “I’ll get dressed and I can take you to one of the facilities. I’ll get you what you need, then what Dirk needs.” He looked Perry up and down. “I haven’t mentioned it, but you coming here in armor isn’t the best sign you’re friendly.”
“It protects against the cold,” said Perry. “Or at least, until it gets cold enough.”
“Useful,” said Moss, envy in his eyes.
It took Moss some time to get ready to go out into the cold, mostly lacing up heavy boots and throwing on a cloak and hat and thick gloves.
“Why was this place built somewhere so inhospitable?” asked Perry.
“To discourage people from living here,” said Moss. He pushed out the door and Perry followed after with his own fur cloak slipped back on, though he’d stuck everything else in the shelf space.
“So you only get the true believers?” asked Perry.
“So we don’t get a city built up next to things of some danger,” said Moss. “People here have accepted the risk, have taken transportation, have forsaken families and friends. The culture here is different, and subordinate to the other culture, but this is also a place that no one will be demanding from us as a commons. It will not grow except as people are deliberately invited and deliberately accept the costs.” Moss was walking with purpose, and not appreciating the cold. He held his shoulders high and his head down like he was trying to burrow into his coat.
“And I suppose the secrecy doesn’t hurt any,” said Perry.
“No,” said Moss. “Nor does the fact that this region is untouched by effluence, which might cause problems with delicate measurements or manufacturing. In fact, there is a total ban on lanterns across this entire town.”
They made their way to a large structure beside one of the three domes, and Moss pulled a key from a pocket to unlock a door for them. They went in quickly, and Perry was mildly surprised to see Moss reach over and flick on a light switch. The lights took a moment to warm, then displayed an enormous work area with all kinds of machines spread over the place and haphazard parts stuffed into shelves along the walls.
“This is where the magic happens?” asked Perry.
“Magic and more,” nodded Moss. “Technically you shouldn’t be in here.” He moved over to a heavy safe that apparently didn’t need a key or combination, only a brute twist of the wheel, and pulled out a stack of masks from it. “This’ll be what Dirk wants for you, I would guess.”
Perry took the proffered stack and looked them over. There were four, all of designs that he’d seen before: one that had allowed the laser eye, one that slowed people, one that toughened surfaces, and a final one that would let him pinch some heads. There were many more masks, but those were the most powerful and the most standardized, and if that was what was on offer, it was what he would take.
“Here,” said Moss. When Perry looked up, Moss had uncovered both a chalkboard and a small device with many wires attached to it. His attention was on the chalkboard, which was covered in writing that must have been dwarven or something because it took a half-second to resolve to equally incomprehensible Arabic numerals and Roman script.
“What … is this?” asked Perry.
“It’s what I’ve found,” said Moss. “The question of other worlds, your ‘punches’. The activity in the last years, I saw it all, I just didn’t entirely know what it was.”
“Oh,” said Perry. There was a little timeline at the bottom of the chalkboard, and who knew how long it had been there. “Well yeah, that does appear to be us.” There was a mark for Third Fervor, for Nima, and for Perry.
Moss gave a little laugh. “You said that you met me in Kerry Coast?”
“On the airship to Berus, actually,” said Perry. “But we were in Kerry Coast at the same time.”
“I had stationed myself there,” said Moss. “I have a globe somewhere, but with the signal, I could tell ahead of time where it would be pointing.”
“Uh, wait,” said Perry. “How does that work? I know you can do that, but if you heard it here and it takes pretty slow travel by airship, then how did you manage to get there?”
“Time,” said Moss. “I got the signal of what must have been your arrival three months early, though I hadn’t known that the signal preceded, I’d thought it came after, so of course I would have found nothing there.”
“You … never told me about this,” said Perry.
“No,” said Moss. “I must have known, at least in part. I must have had a reason to keep it from you, though I can’t fathom what it would have been, even if I had seen you fighting.”
“You were a little less than forthcoming then,” said Perry. “Also, detecting the signal from that far out … I mean, that’s, uh … a lot.” Richter had perhaps two days to plan and then make a trip out to the desert, and that was with better than 21st century equipment.
“We have all sorts of things here,” said Moss. “This place has been in operation for a long time, it’s one of the first of these we built, and there are aspects to this world — now I know they must have been brought in from elsewhere — that we’ve studied but not shared.” He went to the small machine and moved a lever on it up and down a few times, priming it. “Twenty years ago we had a team of three hundred working on this, but everyone’s moved on and there’s been no enthusiasm for starting up again.”
“Uh,” said Perry. “What is it?”
“A way to go to other worlds,” said Moss. “In theory.”
“Not in practice?” asked Perry.
“In practice, there’s resistance,” said Moss. “Of all the points we’ve identified and tested, every one of them was like trying to push our way upstream. With enormous power, we might have been able to do it.” He looked away from the machine and over to Perry. “But if what you say is true, then soon we’ll have a way to push outward.” He looked down at the machine again. “We could build an entire ship around this.”
“This is what you wanted me to get to Dirk?” asked Perry. “This science experiment?”
Moss nodded. “He’s been talking about the end of expansion for a long time. The culture has always had something to push back against, and no one knows what it will be like once the last monarchy falls. A decade or two of normalization, maybe, but the Command Authorities won’t all last. The domes will need maintenance, but we won’t build new ones unless the population keeps growing, which it might not.”
It was more than Perry had ever heard Moss talk before. He wondered how far the two had diverged from each other, how long ago the clone had been made. He also wondered where Velli was, if there was a Velli here too. Elves liked cooler climates, but it didn’t seem like there would be much for her to do in a place like this.
“But if there are other worlds,” said Perry. “Then you would push the culture to them, too?”
“That’s the culture,” said Moss. He stopped. “But you’re not of the culture, as much as you’re on our side.” His eyes were searching Perry’s perfectly flat expression. “You’ll take my papers to him?”
“Sure,” said Perry. Eventually they would have to talk about having a structured society that spanned the multiverse. Hell, there probably already existed at least one organization that spanned the multiverse, given that Hella’s universe had figured out a way to travel through the punches, if not how to get back. “Could you weaponize this?”
“Could I … what?” asked Moss.
“Weaponize it,” said Perry. “Make it into a gun that shoots people to another universe.” Second sphere translated ‘gun’, as apparently this Moss didn’t know about them.
“Nothing like that,” said Moss. “Though …”
Perry waited. “Though there’s something?”
“There’s one possibility, if there were a ‘punch’,” he said. “Not a projectile, but something. Why you would need it … whether it would be ethical? I don’t know.”
“I have time,” said Perry. “Thank you for the masks. I’ll wait while you get papers, and … I have something for you.”
“Oh?” asked Moss. “More answers, I suppose?”
“A lot more answers, as it turns out,” said Perry. He reached into the shelf space and pulled out one of the tablets that the Farfinder had given him, along with a hand-cranked charger for it. “I’ll run you through how to operate it, but this is an electrical book with more than a million pages, including diagrams and technical specifications.”
At Perry’s request, Marchand had stripped it of a healthy chunk of weapons design and strictly cultural knowledge, though it had enough science that someone clever could probably create something horrifying just from the base principles contained inside it. Still, it was mostly base physics, not even close to being the breadth of what was possible in this world. Perry hadn’t seen enough to know, but he was guessing that this place had far more than he’d first suspected, and if they had dug into some of the magics that various thresholders had brought to the world, their power might be considerably higher than just the masks that Dirk had offered.
Moss took the tablet and looked it over, and after a handful of minutes had been familiarized with the basic functions of the modified Gratbook like scrolling, links, search, history, and the back button.
“This is what they have in other worlds?” asked Moss.
“This, and better,” said Perry. “This is rugged, should last a long time, shouldn’t require much special knowledge. Hopefully it doesn’t crash on you, or get you stuck in a menu you don’t know how to get out of.” Playing tech support would be pretty inconvenient, even with the Farfinder to open doors. “There’s some math in there I’d like you to look over, things that might help with making that machine into a weapon if we need it.”
“I’m not in the business of weapons,” said Moss.
“Well, all the same,” said Perry. “I’m not sure I understand this community you have here, or who is in charge, but if you can make that a priority … it would be for the best. I’ll give Dirk whatever you need me to give him, and I’ll be back if you have something.” He looked at the blackboard. “Write a note for me in the top corner there, if you have something you need to say.”
Moss frowned at the blackboard. “You would be able to … read it?”
“Yes,” said Perry.
Moss was silent for a long moment, and Perry let that silence stretch on. There were implications to that ability, he knew. Whatever Moss was thinking, he shook it off and started in on a letter to Dirk. Perry slipped his helmet on while that was going.
“News from the Farfinder?” asked Perry. “Are they looking at this place?”
“We have an email, yes sir,” said Marchand.
Perry breathed out a sigh. He was glad they weren’t doing prognostics. If they were comfortable interfering, they could have nearly real time communication with him by tracking him and listening to what he said and then using technopathy to insert ‘emails’ into Marchand.
The email was from Eggletina, who everyone just called Eggy. It was short.
Perry, that place turned out to be a gold mine. We should have swept more. We’re still looking through it. I’m updating his tablet as we speak with more information. March, seed nanites. It looks like they’re further along with multiversal research than we could ever have expected they would be. Maybe not enough that we can make substantial changes, but they have selection tech — probably because there are so many entrances. Looks like some ability to affect punches, which would be huge. We might actually have to bring this guy in, but that will have to wait. Once the nanites are down, we can start reading the papers in there, it’s a pain to do remote.
Perry reread the bit about ‘selection tech’ twice, as though he would be able to pull some meaning from it. He tried to temper his expectations. So far as he knew, the Farfinder wasn’t actually able to pick which punch they were leaving through, so when they’d left the Great Arc, they hadn’t known whether they would be following him, Maya, or the king. It was possible that ‘selection tech’ just meant the ability to distinguish between punches. But if there was a path to picking where the portal would go, then that would be huge.
He didn’t actually believe that Moss had something like that, even if there had been a team of three hundred working the problem. Moss hadn’t even understood what was happening until Perry showed up with information. It was a dead, mothballed project that only had any attention because their little detector had lit up.
Still, there was something that stirred in Perry. He was going to have to hope that Eggy wasn’t just being overexcitable over nothing.
Moss finished with his letter, assembled the sheaf of papers, slipped the whole thing into a thick envelope pulled from one of numerous drawers, and handed the whole thing over to Perry.
“You get that to Dirk,” said Moss. “I don’t know that it’ll do him much good, but it’s a briefing that he’s been left out on. It was never supposed to be something he was involved in, just a curiosity with no real applications, but if you’re here and this is all in play … he’ll want to know.”
Perry nodded. “Before I go … you knew Fenilor the Gilded?”
Moss paused. “I met him on more than one occasion, but no, I didn’t know him, not well. A few conversations he wouldn’t have remembered. We ran in the same circles, obviously. That was the culture, at the time. Why?”
“It’s not important right now,” said Perry. “Just wondering whether he knew about this place.”
“He founded it,” said Moss.
“Ah,” said Perry. He didn’t particularly like that. There were limits to how hooked in Fenilor could be with the Command Authorities, but it was clear that at one point fairly heavy resources were being directed at Fenilor’s whims.
“He’s long reformed,” said Moss. It took Perry a moment to realize that ‘reformed’ in this context meant that he’d done the caterpillar reincarnation thing that elves did. “He wasn’t a part of the culture, not in the same way he’d been. Why?”
“It’s a historical question,” said Perry. He let out a breath. The other Moss already knew, and there’d be no reason for this Moss to think any different, as much as there might have been some minor divergence. “But if he shows up again, reformed … I guess send me a message. Or if you remember, say, giving him equipment, or making something for him.”
“Dirk knows you’re after Fenilor?” asked Moss.
“He does,” said Perry. “The other you knows as well.”
“You said I died,” said Moss.
“That’s the beauty of clones,” said Perry. “There’s always more.”
Moss smiled with his wide teeth. “Then if I think of anything, I’ll let you know. The blackboard, yes?” Perry nodded. “But I haven’t seen him in a very long time. If he came by, I would know it. He was always very magnetic, easy to spot across a room, and when they reform, it’s not as though they’re completely different.”
Perry wasn’t convinced. If Fenilor had founded this place, there was a reason for it. Maybe, on the surface, it made sense that Fenilor was putting effort into magic and technology he knew something about from the parade of thresholders. But if Fenilor wanted to move without being seen, he certainly seemed capable of doing that. They were going to have to scrub through the entire history of the site as best they could and see if traps had been laid for them.