Zed Space Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

“I cannot morally allow my men out there,” I said, to the woman whose son was missing. “It’s suicide. We barely made it as it is.”

The woman got onto her knees. “Please, please,” she said. “I know he’s still alive. I know it.”

I looked to the civilians. “Does anyone want to volunteer for a possibly suicidal rescue mission?” I said.

No one stepped forward. I turned to the woman. “I apologize,” I said. “We can’t go back out there.”

The woman broke down into tears. I turned away, unsure of how to console her. To keep my mind from that I began the integration process. We had just acquired two hundred more civilians who needed to be tested for the virus. Alice and Jacob took care of that while I surveyed the fifty or so civvies who had been chosen to be part of our militia while we were gone.

“You lot are not soldiers,” I said, “And I do not expect you to perform like you are. But I do expect a certain level of competence from all of you. If you fail, you die. Do you understand?”

The militia members attempted a salute. It was crude, but I wasn’t going to push that, as all we needed were bodies with guns.

I could hear the woman who lost her son wailing in the background. I tuned it out.

“We are going to have to defend against major attacks,” I said. “This planet is level one infected,” I said. “There are five levels. If we get to three before rescue arrives, we’re toast no matter how many guns we have.” I walked up to my pod and tapped it. “In here, spatially stored, is everything we need to survive for the next month. It’s possible that we may get a resupply. But until then this is what we got.”

I turned to Garret. “Find everyone who is a mechanic or has mechanical expertise.” I turned back to the civilians. “If everything goes well, we may be able to retake some of the city. There are doubtless hundreds of pockets of survivors who are awaiting rescue by us. This particular city has been seeded with fifteen drop trooper squads.”

Orange, the leader of Salamander squad, approached me. He saluted. “Salamander squad is all accounted for. We are beginning rescue of Ms. Liber’s son.”

I paused. “You’re doing it?” I said.

Orange nodded. “We have a duty to save as many people as possible.”

“He’s most likely already dead,” I said.

“We don’t know that,” said Orange. “But it’s beside the point. This current situation is bad for morale.”

“I’m not your commander,” I said, “So you go ahead. I’ll be supporting you. I’ll get my sniper on point to keep overwatch.” I waved at Jacob. “Hey, private,” I said.

Jacob saluted. “Need me, Lieutenant?”

“I need you to provide overwatch for Salamander squad’s rescue attempt.”

“Sure thing,” said Jacob. He shouldered his high power sniper rifle.

“Your priority is mutants,” I said. “Salamander squad can handle any regular dorks that come their way.”

“Yes sir,” said Jacob. He turned. “I think I see the best vantage point.” He pointed towards the VIP lounges. “They have a good line of sight over the surrounding city.”

“Get to it,” I said.

Jacob saluted and started walking towards the suites. Salamander squad, with Orange at the front, went towards an entrance on the other side of the stadium. Since the truck entrance we had used before was surrounded by the zombies we attracted with our rescue mission, this was the most logical way to proceed.

“Good luck,” I said. “You’ll need it.”

Orange saluted and started towards the exit. I watched them go and then turned to the civvies who had been selected for militia duty.

“You’re going to have to become fit,” I said. “It takes a lot of speed and endurance to outrun a sprinter.” I began walking back and forth along the line of militia members. “There are three mutants we will have to worry about in the near future,” I said. “Jumpers are the least dangerous. If you spot them first it’s usually easy to take them down. However, if they catch you unprepared, you’ll surely get bit. Jumpers hold you down while the ordinary folk bite you to pieces. They are rather stupid and not nearly as scary as hunters. But we won’t have to worry about those boys until we hit level three infection.” I continued walking. “Sprinters. These zed heads can move fast, like their name suggests. They also have a lot of stamina and endurance. The best thing to do when you see a sprinter is to run and gun. That means you run while simultaneously firing your weapon. Eventually they will go down. Aim not for their head but for their limbs. Sprinters are too fast moving for you to reliably get a head shot, and the best bet is to disable them instead.” I stopped, and performed an about face. “And then we have fats. A fat is a zombie that has secreted a special tissue that absorbs kinetic energy. They are almost impossible to take down with small arms fire, but are very slow. The best way to deal with these is an anti-tank weapon. Thankfully for you, we have a couple. And by a couple I mean over a thousand rounds.” I tapped my feet together. “Any questions?”

A militia member raised his hand. “What about armor?” he said.

“Meaning?” I said. “Vehicles or personal?”

“Personal,” said the man.

“We’ve brought enough,” I said. “Even spatial packing has a limit, however, so we have to be sparing about it. I will issue armor to every second member of this militia. If you want to be one of those people, work hard during training.” I clapped my hands. “All of you. We’re doing a hundred laps around the stadium.”

There was less resistance than I had expected for that. I suppose everyone realized that their lives were on the line. We needed to be fit to fight this war.

I led the jog. This first one would be without equipment, but eventually we would do twice this distance with a backpack full of equipment.

Alice joined me along the run.

“You don’t have to be here,” I said. “Don’t you have other things to do?”

“It’s been a day since my last good run,” said Alice. “There’s not much running space on a ship.”

“I don’t mind,” I said. Alice and I continued to run in silence.

After fifty laps I could tell that the militia was having a hard time. This was nothing for me, of course, but I decided to cut it short.

“You lot have no endurance,” I said, as I ended the run. “You’re zed bait, all of you.”

The militia looked as if it had been pushed to its limit. I had probably set the bar too high with a hundred laps to start.

But it was time for me to be evil. “Two hundred pushups, all of you! Then two hundred squats and two hundred crunches!”

I watched as the militia strove to do what I had told them to do. When they were done, they were exhausted down to the man. I strutted around in front of them. “In an hour we are going to practice our shooting. Don’t worry about ammunition usage. We have brought plenty.”

The hour passed without much fanfare. When my stopwatch beeped I ushered the militia onto the less inhabited side of the grass field. During the break hour my squad had assembled.

Just before the practice began, Salamander squad returned.

Orange jogged up to me. When I tilted my head he shook his.

“He didn’t make it?” I said.

Orange frowned. “We couldn’t save him. He had already turned by the time we found him.”

The mother’s wailing echoed in my mind. I sighed. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Orange saluted and so did I. I returned to my militia members. “If you want to be able to save people like that,” I said, “Then you had better become good marksmen. I expect all of you to become experts before the month is up.”

“Sir!” shouted the militia.

The shooting practice began. The guns were loud, and would probably attract many zed heads to our position, but there was no substitute for live fire training. I walked along the line of men and women, correcting the posture of the people who were doing it wrong. When half an hour had passed I stopped the practice.

“You’re done for today,” I said. “Go home and be with your families.” I chuckled. “Well, there’s not much home here anymore.”

There was a huge rumbling and the ground began to shake. I stabilized myself, but a lot of the militia members stumbled and fell.

“That was probably the West Tarthing fusion plant,” I said, shielding my vision against the sudden flash of bright light that enveloped the city.

When the light receded, a pillar of black smoke rose from across the city.

“Who knows how many people died in that explosion,” I said.

I turned away. “It’s dinner time.”

The line for the evening meal had already formed. We were rationed a small amount of real food, but most of our nutrition for the next month or so would be Soylent, a super-rich energy paste. Thankfully the designers of the stuff had come up with over a hundred flavors, but even so it was tough to subsist on mush.

The real food today was a bowl of rice and a small piece of dried meat. For my Soylent flavor I chose Red Cherry Surprise, ™. It was one of my favorites.

The Soylent machine resembled a self-service soda fountain that you would find in a civilian fast food restaurant. You chose a flavor from the digital panel up top and placed your cup beneath it. It took thirty seconds to fill and then you had a fully balanced nutritional food substitute to keep you going for the next twelve hours.

I savored my rice and meat before sucking up the tube of Soylent.

It looked like the civvies did not like the idea of Soylent. Since I was a soldier, I was conditioned to eat this stuff, but to a civilian used to McFanks and such, it was a huge step down.

But food is food, and over a Hundred Wonderful Flavors ™ was not something to snuff at.

I sucked down my Red Cherry Surprise ™ and placed the cup inside my personal cube storage for reuse next meal time.

Alice came by me and sat down with her food. She took a small bite of rice and then a large swig of Chocolate Moon ™. Sighing, she leaned back on the astroturf.

“Another mission, another city lost,” she said. “I know this mission is worth something but I can’t help remembering Anelise.”

“Yeah, that was a disaster,” I said. I ate my last grain of rice. “But I think we’re going to do well this time around. The militia is looking good and we have the speedmakers.”

“It’s experimental equipment,” said Alice. “We’re the navy’s guinea pigs.”

“And I couldn’t be happier,” I said. “We have the good stuff and because of that we may be able to survive until the navy comes.”

“Hey, I have something to tell you,” said Alice. She looked around to make sure we were far enough separated from the others. “I think this planet may be progressing in infection level a lot faster than normal.”

I looked up at the smoke from the fusion power plant. “May be,” I said. “But our job is to survive despite that.” I stood up. “And that’s what we’re going to do.”

Zed Space Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

I shivered. The drop zone was hot. My suit suctioned onto my skin and inserted simultaneously the catheter and the adrenal stimulant probe. The ship’s engines droned behind the bulkhead. My five squad mates donned their drop trooper helmets. I was the last to put mine on.

I stepped into my pod. The door slid shut with a pneumonic hiss and the air pressure equalized. My ears popped. The floor dropped out beneath me and I began my freefall descent into the city.

The city was burning. Fires consumed skyscrapers and explosions were up everywhere.

The civilian population had been holding on for three months without support from outside. We were fighting a war, after all.

I could now see the swarm of zombies that had been detected around the drop zone. We were tasked to land in the middle of Hyatt Stadium, a refugee crisis zone that was still, somehow, holding out against the onslaught. At least a thousand civilians were hunkered down in the green field, barricaded against the zombies.

The planet was at level one. That meant that there were few mutations and the hivemind had yet to insert itself. It wasn’t the worst place I had been inserted in the last year.

My pod streaked through the atmosphere and came closer to the drop zone. I was able to make out individual civilians. They looked up at us as we came down and spread away from the marked landing spots.

My pod smashed into the astro turf and I kicked out the door. I was the second to land. Jacob had been the first and was already unloading supplies.

The other four pods fell in quick succession. Dirt spattered the tents the civilians had been using for shelter.

About two dozen civilians approached me.

“Alice!” I said, turning to my squad mate. “Help me distribute the rations!”

“Yes, sir,” said Alice.

I was the squad’s lieutenant. That meant I was in charge. We had two months worth of rations space-packed in our pods. With the press of a button they returned to full size.

The civilians looked like they hadn’t eaten in days. We prepared meals and handed out the food with little incident.

“Who is in charge here?” I asked, surveying the eating people.

An old man stood up and approached me. “My name is Mick,” he said. “Is the army coming?”

“We are the army,” I said. “This city has been deemed low priority. Our only mission is to protect you until other objectives have been taken and some evacuation vessels can be spared.”

“How much longer until then?” said Mick.

“A week?” I said. “A month? Who knows?”

“Are we going to survive?” said a man in a tattered suit.

“As long as you don’t let any infected in here,” I said. “Before we go any further, we’re going to have to inspect everyone for bites.”

“There’s no one bitten in here!” said Mick. “We made sure of that.”

“We can never be too certain,” I said. I motioned to Ryce, my machine-gunner. “Set up the examination table.” I turned to Alice. “You’re the only girl in this squad. Check up on all the female civilians.”

“Yes sir,” said Alice.

Alice helped me set up our examination device, which had been spatially packed along with the rations. It was a scanner that took a blood biopsy and instantly told us whether or not the tested person was infected. All it required was a small prick on the finger.

Alice set up a large tent that had been spatially packed alongside everything else and had the women line up outside of it. She did their checkups, which required her to remove all their clothing. This wasn’t so much to discover infected people but to make sure that everyone was healthy.

One man refused to get his blood tested by the machine.

“Hey, you can’t do this to us,” he said, as a number of other civilians wrestled with him. “You can’t force us to give up our genetic information!”

I walked towards him. “I’m just a soldier,” I said. “I don’t know anything about the law. But right now I’m in charge. If you think we’ve wronged you, you can bring it up in court when we’ve gotten out of this mess.”

“But we won’t!” said the man. He continued to struggle. “We’re not going to make it!”

I grabbed his arm. “You have to get tested. If you’re not, we’re going to have to expel you.”

“You can’t!” said the man. “My family is here.”

I dragged him towards the testing machine. It took a bit of effort, but I got his blood sample.

It came back positive.

“I’m sorry,” I said, turning away from the console. “You’ve been infected. We’re going to have to quarantine you.” I turned to Ryce. “Bring me an isolation bunker.”

Ryce called forth the isolation bunker from spatial storage. It was about the size of a port-a-potty and heavily armored with superplastic. Garret, our engineer, grabbed the man and pushed him into the isolation bunker.

The man was crying. He didn’t fight. Ryce pushed him into the chamber and sealed it. The chamber was designed so that people could communicate with the person inside, but he was locked in there until he turned.

Two girls and a lady approached the isolation bunker, all crying. The one I presumed was the mother broke down in front of the view window and cried.

“It’s okay, honey,” said the man. “I was stupid and got bit while foraging. There’s no coming back from this.”

Indeed, the zombie virus was impossible to cure and had a one hundred percent fatality rate. There was no escaping it. Planet after planet was lost to the zombie invasion. The only thing we could do was slow it down.

We tested the rest of the two hundred and eleven people in the stadium. They all came back clear.

While I was testing the people, James and Jacob, two private first class squad members, were checking up on the barricades. The stadium had metal doors that locked shut on every entrance. They wouldn’t stop a bull but they were good enough against level one infected.

Jacob returned from his patrol. “Everything is in place,” he said, saluting. “There are no breaches. The civilians did a good job of securing the stadium.”

“Are we going to save more people?” asked a woman, who approached me from behind.

I turned instinctively and pointed my service pistol at her.

“Oh,” I said, returning my pistol to its holster. “Ahem, yes. We are going to try and save as many people as we can, before the infection level increases and we start seeing mutants. After that it will be too dangerous to be out there without armored support.”

“But the army is coming for us, right?” said the woman.

“I can’t say I know when they’ll come,” I said. “Like I mentioned before. We could be here for weeks or even months. We have prepared for that and have plenty of food and tools in spatial storage.”

“So we’ll be here for a bit,” said Alice. She saluted to me. “Everything seems to be in order.”

“Good,” I said. “It’s time to start training.”

“Already?” said Jacob.

“We don’t have any time to spare,” I said. “We need these civilians to become soldiers.” I turned to Mick. “With your permission, we’re going to start arming and training you and your people to fight.”

“We will do everything you say,” said Mick. “We had lost all hope. Now we have it.”

A transmission came though my suit communicator. “This is Salamander squad. We’re in need of immediate assistance. Two hundred civvies are about to be lost along with this squad. Our location is—” The caller noted out a place not too far from our drop zone.

“Looks like it’s time for our first mission,” I said. I turned the Mick. “I need twenty strong individuals who can handle guns.”

Mick looked around at the civilians gathered in front of us. “I can do that.”

He took five minutes to single out twenty people, mostly men.

I took twenty guns from spatial storage and handed them out. “We’re going to rescue another squad and about two hundred people,” I said. “Without our resources we can handle twice that for a month.”

“What about after?” said a woman.

“We’ll figure that out,” I said. “If the army or navy can spare resources, we may get a supply drop. Just wait and do what you’re told.”

“Okay,” said the woman.

“Alice, Ryce,” I said, turning to my squad. “You stay here and protect the base. Also, set up the comm tower and start the selection process for training.”

I took Jacob, Garret, and James with me. We walked to the unloading bay. I poked a camera out of a small barred window. There were about a dozen zombies behind the metal screen, but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle. I motioned to the two strongest-looking civvies.

“Open that door when I tell you to,” I said. “When they come, we shoot. Then we make haste to the rescue point.”

“What about vehicles?” said Jacob.

“We can’t be driving around out there,” I said. “The roads are clogged and we don’t have any that would fit two hundred plus people. We’re going to have to do this on foot.”

The twenty civvies prepared, aiming their guns at the door. Jacob and I knelt next to the chain and unlocked it.

“One,” I said. “Two, three.” We lifted the truck door and backed away as the civvies started shooting. Two minutes later all twenty dead heads were on the ground.

I looked both ways. There were only a couple zombies here and there, attracted by the gunshots. No herds, no hoards, no mutants.  A good day to be rescuing a squad and two hundred civvies.

I led the group through the streets, with Jacob holding down the back and James and Garret in the middle. We walked for ten minutes until we came to a nondescript high rise. I held up my hand and used my camera to look behind the corner. There were at least a thousand of them, including two first level mutants. I could take them, perhaps, but with all those dead heads clogging up my line of fire I didn’t know if I could make the shots.

These mutants were of the jump/grab phenotype. They had powerful frog-like legs and long arms for grabbing a tearing into their victims. I was, of course, lucky to be encountering only these and at these low numbers.

I signaled to my squad. James took a number of civvies out another way and I called up Jacob to set up a sniper position.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I said. “We’re going to lure the bulk of the dead away from the building. While they’re distracted, we take out the mutants and save the people in the building. We good?”

The civvies nodded. At that moment the distraction began. Fireworks exploded from across the street, taking the attention of the zombies with it. Jacob fired his sniper rifle and took out the first mutant. The second mutant locked onto me and I took it out with a headshot before it could jump.

We rushed past the gap made by the distracted zombies and knocked on the door. The leader of Salamander squad jumped out and surveyed the scene.

“Textbook,” he said, as he began waving. Civilians streamed out of the opening.

“Go, go,” I said, also waving the civilians along. Two members of Salamander squad brought their spatial storage cubes with them. We retreated through the streets leading the civvies like a herd of cattle.

When we returned to the safe zone we got behind the truck gate, waited until everyone was through, and then locked it shut.

Tess, the leader of Salamander squad, began a head count.

A woman approached me. “I can’t find my son,” she said. “I think he’s still out there.”

“Oh boy,” I said, looking through a peephole at the crowd of zombies approaching the gate. “This is going to be difficult.”

War of the Portal Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

It was Simon’s day off. All he wanted to do was buy a couple packs of his favorite card game at the game store, maybe draft a few games and hang out with his friends. Sure, it was weird for a tenured professor in the field of medieval linguistics and culture to be playing a trading card game, but he enjoyed it and did his best to connect with the twenty-somethings in his local game store. He had built the ultimate blue-green ramp deck the other day and wanted to try it.

Before heading to the shop, he decided to check out Times Square. Christmas 2015 was in full swing. The Rockefeller tree had been put up. Snow drifted peacefully to the streets. The place was as crowded with tourists as it always was.

Hands in pocket, Simon began reciting a lay in middle English. It was a pastime he had a habit of playing around with. After all, he had written his thesis on Beowulf.

The crowd flowed around him. Watching the advertising screens above him, he wondered if he was going to have the time to return to his family back in Wisconsin. Flights weren’t cheap this time of year and he didn’t know if he would make it through a ten hour drive.

Something felt wrong. The energy of the crowded tourist landmark changed. The air suddenly became crisp. It was as if the whole world had held its breath.

Four columns in the classic Greek style appeared out of shimmering light. A roof, comparable to the Parthenon, materialized on top. Something monstrous roared. Dragons—real dragons—spilled out of the opening, ridden by warriors in medieval armor.

A column of calvary marched out from beneath thew dragons.

“His elf sumti!” yelled the man wearing the most ornate hat. He held forth a sword of incredible craftsmanship.

The square panicked. Hundreds of people turned away from the invaders and fled. The horsemen galloped across the street, striking down the fleeing citizens and tourists.

There were hundreds of horsemen and at least two dozen dragons. The dragons set fire to the advertising boards and raked their claws through the windows of the skyscrapers.

Simon backed up slowly, unsure if he should take his eyes off the invaders.

A young woman stumbled and fell, crashing to the ground. A horseman headed straight for her, ready to trample her into the concrete.

Simon dashed for the woman and picked her up with the power of adrenaline. He sprinted away, carrying her, and turned into an alleyway where a dozen people were hiding.

“Move, move,” he shouted.

He let go of the girl. She was in hysterics, and couldn’t communicate.

Simon turned back towards the melee behind him. It was chaos. The dragons brought their fire breath weapons against the people who were unlucky or stupid enough to still be out in the open. Blood coated the square.

Simon decided that something needed to be done. He rushed out of the alleyway and into the center of the square. Two dozen horsemen turned to watch him.

Simon held out his hands. “Stop!” he yelled. “Please stop!”

The horsemen laughed in a way that felt foreign. They pointed their swords at Simon and began trotting towards him.

Simon held his ground. The horsemen began to circle him. They pointed their swords and continued to laugh. “Wis come it ta cursis?” said the one who appeared to be the leader.

Where is the military? Thought Simon, still holding out his hands.

A deep root took shelter in his mind. His knowledge of middle English history, his many thesis on the government of feudal France, his knowledge of the Hundred Years War.

He understood their language in a flash of inspiration.

“The otherworlder is a dunce,” said the captain. “He does not believe we shall kill him. For sure, he is merely a servant of the giants who built these glass towers.”

“I’m an American,” said Simon. “I don’t want trouble. If you go back peacefully to where you came from we will not have to kill you.”

Simon thought he heard helicopters. He just needed to hold them off for another minute. This understanding of their language was a godsend and he was not about to let it go to waste.

The captain pointed his sword at Simon. “Where are the giants?” he said. “We have come to defeat them, not their slaves.”

“There are no giants!” said Simon. “These are …” He recognized a hole in their language. “Skyscrapers,” he said, in English.

“Skyfrater?” said the captain. “What kind of childish babble is that?”

The helicopters were definitely coming. Their drone was now audible.

A dozen patrol cars swerved into the square. Cops got out and pointed their weapons.

One of the cops waved to Simon.

Simon gave them a thumbs-up sign.

“We have you surrounded,” said Simon. “Just give up. You don’t know what you’re dealing with. Please return to where you came from.”

“Hah!” said the captain. “The coward is trying to negotiate. We shall not stand to be lectured by a mere slave.”

The helicopters arrived. All at once six dragons ate the full brunt of a helicopter-mounted chaingun. The policemen also opened fire.

The hail of bullets chewed through the horsemen and dragon riders like through cheese. Their iron and steel armor were nothing against a fifty caliber machine gun and rockets.

The battle was over in five minutes. For the entire time Simon was rooted to the ground.

More police cars and fire trucks arrived. Police surrounded Simon.

Simon collapsed to the ground, fainting.

He woke up in a hospital bed. A nurse was standing in the corner of the room, holding a clipboard.

“What happened?” said Simon.

“Hum?” said the nurse. “I don’t understand you.”

Simon realized he was still speaking the language of the invaders. “I’m sorry. I was asking what happened.”

“You’re a hero,” said the nurse. “You stopped the invasion and saved countless lives.”

“Me? A hero?” said Simon. “How is that possible?”

“Who knows?” said the nurse. “Somehow you were able to communicate with them, and you managed to keep them from spreading out of Times Square.”

Simon’s colleague, Dr. Mason Jonson, entered the room followed by two military men and a doctor.

The military man extended his hand. “Major Dennis Elmore,” he said.

Simon shook his hand and was startled by the strength of the man’s grip.

“You’re a hero,” said Dennis. “We have footage of you singlehandedly stalling the invasion until the military could arrive.”

“It was only five minutes,” said Simon.

“We looked into your background. You are one of the premier researchers into medieval cultures in America.”

“Why does that matter?” said Simon.

“The world behind the portal, through which the invaders came, is medieval. We’ve sent scouts through the portal and they’ve brought back enough information for us to understand what we’re dealing with.” Dennis cleared his throat. “This is a portal to a real life fantasy world. And, for some reason, you are the only one who knows their language.”

“Well, I’ve studied a number of medieval languages, and they all just came together in my head when I was faced with those horsemen.”

“And that’s why we need you,” said Dennis. “We’ve sealed the gate with an emergency lockdown module. In two weeks we will be commencing a full-scale incursion into this place. You understand their language. We have interviewed every other person who came into contact with them and you’re the only one who can speak their language.”

“It just came to me,” said Simon. “I don’t know what I did.”

“Well, whatever it was, it will be of huge service to us during our eventual incursion.” Dennis’s phone rang. He sighed. “Looks like there are already protestors around the portal.” He took the call and left the room.

Mason looked a bit awkward. “They say you’re a hero,” he said.

“I heard,” Simon said.

“And I believe them,” said Mason. “You’ve always been brave. You had to have been to advance your theories on France’s golden period.”

“Well, I suppose so,” said Simon. He stood up from his bed. “I think I’m fine. I need to get home.”

“You live alone, right?” said Mason.

“I just need to lay my head somewhere that isn’t a hospital.”

Dennis came back into the room. “Looks like we’re in need of you already,” he said. “We’ve captured a living invader and we need a translator.”

Simon sighed. No sleep for him. “Okay,” he said. “I can’t refuse, can I?”

“You’ve been designated a beneficial asset by the military. You have no choice in this matter. You could protest, but the amount of effort that would take wouldn’t be worth it.”

Simon shrugged. “I suppose I’ll take this opportunity to spread knowledge about the usefulness of medieval scholarship.”

“Good attitude,” said Dennis. “We have a jeep waiting outside.”

Simon left the room with Dennis and Mason.

Mason had his hands in his pockets as he followed Simon and Dennis.

“Why are you here?” said Simon. “Did they rope you into this as well?”

“Yep,” said Mason.

Mason’s specialty was medieval metallurgy. He had advanced several prominent theories on the formation of bloom iron into implements.

The three of them left the hospital. Dennis saluted the jeep driver and got in. Simon and Mason climbed into the back.

Dennis looked into the backseat from his position beside the driver. “Dr. Jonson,” he said, “I want you to transcribe everything Dr. Bell translates during the interrogation.”

Bell was Simon’s last name. Dr. Simon Bell.

Simon was just glad that his degree was finally being recognized as useful.

They left Manhattan and headed to Fort Hamilton. Once they got there, they unloaded and were led into a nondescript concrete building.

In one of the rooms, a bloodied and bound soldier from beyond the portal was tied up.

“You bastards,” he said. “Where are the giants?”

“There are no giants,” Simon said.

Both Dennis and Mason turned their heads in surprise.

“I was doubtful,” said Mason, “But you really seem to understand him.”

Simon rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know how it works. Language acquisition isn’t supposed to happen like this. It’s like magic.”

“You understand me, heathen?” said the soldier.

“What is your name?” Simon said.

“Brith,” said the soldier.

Simon was at a loss about what to say. Thankfully, Major Dennis stepped in.

“Translate this,” he said. “We do not want to harm you. Cooperate and you shall be taken home.”

Simon translated.

Brith spat. “You are heathens. I shall not believe you. Take me to the giants.”

“Again, there are no giants,” said Simon.

“What is he saying?” said Dennis.

“He keeps asking about giants,” said Simon. “He appears to think that they built all the tall buildings.”

“Tell him that it’s all human engineering.”

Simon translated.

Brith looked shocked. “It cannot be,” he said.

“Now ask him about his political affiliation,” said Dennis.

Simon translated.

“I am a vassal of Lord Gywimire,” said Brith. “And I am proud of it. You are nothing more than a peasant beneath his stride.”

Simon noticed that Brith used an euphemism that was untranslatable, something about goats and their milk. He shook his head.

“We do not want to harm you,” he said.

Brith spat again.

“Tell him that we are losing patience,” said Dennis. “And ask him why they attacked us.”

Brith sighed as Simon translated.

“We are conquerors,” said Brith. “We conquer. That is what we do. No less a world beyond the sacred hill.”

Simon translated.

Dennis rubbed his chin. “Ask him if his king or lord is friendly.”

Simon translated.

“Our lord will crush you,” said Brith. “You shall all be put beneath his foot.”

Simon translated, leaving out another strange aphorism.

Dennis shook his head. “Okay,” he said. He turned around. “That is all I have to say.”

He looked at me. “Try and figure him out while I call our analysts.”

He left the room, leaving me and Mason inside with the otherworlder.

Otherworld Businessman Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

Next mission: get a magician’s amulet from the guild. I pulled my wagon through the city streets until I came back to the magician’s guild adjacent to the cathedral. The wagon was too big to pull through the door so I threw a cloth over it and entered the building with a twenty pack of soda.

I approached the counter. An elf with green hair was manning the desk.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Where can I apply for a magician’s amulet?”

“Can you use magic?” said the elf.

I showed her the cola cans. “I am an alchemist and dimensional traveler. This is my product.”

“Yes, I recognize these,” said the elf. “A stranger came in two days ago and sold us forty-eight of these, um, vessels. We managed to find a use for them and they are in fact very valuable.”

“I’m that stranger,” I said. I planted the twenty-four pack on the counter. “I’ll sell you these if I can get a magician’s amulet.”

“Agreed,” said the elf. “There is a twenty gold fee for the amulet, but I’ll subtract it from the exchange for those elixirs.”

“Have you tried them yet?” I said.

“Heavens no,” said the elf. “At three gold apiece I couldn’t even imagine it.”

I handed her a single can. “Drink this. I’ll give it to you free as a mark of goodwill. We’ll probably be working with each other quite a bit. I have many magical items for sale. By the way, do you mind if I get some muscle to help me unload my wagon of magic items?”

“You brought a wagonful with you?” said the elf.

“Indeed,” I said. “I left the wagon outside. You won’t believe what’s in there.”

Five minutes later, the elf and two other guild workers were unloading the wagon. I had bought everything I could think of that a feudal society would find useful. Flashlights and batteries, lighters, plastic utensils and cans of food. The wagon was packed, and it was the size of a rickshaw.

Half an hour later all of my goods were laid out on the floor of the guild, privy to a number of curious onlookers. The elf walked among the items.

“That’s a flashlight,” I said. “It uses these cylinders—“ I held up batteries—”to produce a beam of light.”

I explained the function of all the items whose use was not obvious. They understood the ridiculously precise “craftsmanship” of the glasses and plastic utensils. They also understood the use of the red Solo cups.

The total value came to one thousand, two hundred and fifty gold coins. A veritable fortune, but of course this stuff was worth that in a world where people were still working the fields by hand. I already had enough Earth currency to support me for quite some time on the other end, so I decided to keep this new cash for use within the otherworld.

“You are an incredible mage,” said the elf. She extended her hand. “My name is Tris. Please, continue to patronize us with your magnificent alchemy skills.”

“Aahaha,” I said. “Okay.”

“You’re going to have to give a demonstration of your powers to the council before we assign you a medallion, however,” said Tris.

“Do you mind if I take a day to prepare?” I said.

“You can take a week if needed,” said Tris. “I understand Alchemy requires various ingredients that are quite hard to find.”

“Good,” I said. “Set me up a trial two days from now at sunset.”

Tris nodded and made some notes on a clipboard. “In the meantime,” she said, “I insist that you bring more of these magic items if you can. I do not  know where they come from but they are most certainly useful.”

“Well, I, ah, come from another universe.”

“Quite common,” said Tris. She smiled. “In any case, I wish you well.”

“I need to return to my home to retrieve materials for the trail,” I said, “But I don’t think I’ll be able to enter the city again without proper papers.”

“I’ll issue you a temporary travel permit,” said Tris. “It’s the least I could do.”

Two hours later I was back in my apartment, planning for the test. I understood that it would involve dry ice and liquid nitrogen, as well as helium and a lot of other chemistry. I could freeze a rubber ball and crack it. I could create bubbling potions.

I looked up “cool chemistry experiments” online and picked five to perform.

The list: mix copper and nitric acid; make elephant’s toothpaste; explode sodium in water; make a Lichtenberg figure; and finally, exploding thermite in dry ice.

I procured all the items at the local hardware store. When it was time for me to return, I brought all my materials with me. The temp papers allowed me in the city and I pulled everything to the guild hall.

Tris came out to greet me. “Are you ready?” she said. She led me through the entrance foyer to a meeting hall that looked like a classroom at my college. About a dozen magicians were sitting dispersed around the room.

I suddenly felt very nervous. What if my experiments failed? What if they didn’t work like advertised, or what if I got the mixtures wrong?

I stepped onto stage. “I am going to perform five alchemical spells that each produce a fascinating result,” I said.

I set up the experiment to mix copper and nitric acid. I then mixed the two ingredients to produce a spectacular display of blue and reddish-orange smoke.

“Ooh,” said several of the members of the audience. There was a bit of clapping as well.

“Quite the magic experiment, Mr. Ran,” said one of them, an older man with a mane of grey hair.

I bowed, and then began to set up my elephant’s toothpaste experiment. Elephant’s toothpaste is a mixture of hydrogen peroxide and yeast, colored with food coloring.

It explodes out of the tube it is created in, creating a fountain of foam. It went off without a hitch, and this time the entire audience clapped.

Then it was on to exploding sodium with water. A pretty simple reaction when pure sodium is put into water, this reaction is spectacular and creates violent sputtering flames.

Then I made a Lichtenburg figure with a small electric lighter. A Lichtenberg figure is the tracing of an electric shock within a recording material, leaving behind a beautiful artistic lightning-esque tree.

And, finally, I exploded thermite on some dry ice.

The clapping from the audience was spirited.

“I have never seen such alchemy as this,” said one of the members. “You are the most promising young magician I have ever seen. You have many great things ahead of you.”

“We would be happy to give you the status of magician,” said the man with the fuzzy grey hair.

I bowed. A distinguished-looking magician came to the stage and ceremoniously presented me with a medallion about the size of a half dollar. I took it with reverence. I was now officially a magician within this world.

“Would you like to take a tour of the guild?” said the grey-haired magician, approaching me from the other side of the stage. “My name is Mikayus. I am the head of the department of alchemy.”

“I would be glad to,” I said.

Mikayus led me out of the lecture hall and into a corridor lined with doors, just like a school building back at university.

“This is the summoning center,” said Mikayus. “And that’s where the pure magicians work.”

He showed me through the rest of the building and finished the tour at the grand entrance.

“We should be getting you an office,” said Mikayus. “But that won’t happen for a bit. Please, let me treat to you to some dinner.”

“Is there a good place around here?” I said.

“There is a good Bulkian shop near my house.”

“Then let’s go there. I’ve never eaten Bulkian food before.”

“You’re in for a real treat,” said Mikayus. We walked in silence for a few steps.

“I was wondering,” said Mikayus. “Where, exactly, did you come from?”

“Another world,” I said.

“And where is this other world located?” said Mikayus.

“It’s a secret,” I said. “I am unable to tell you.”

“I suppose we all have secrets,” said Mikayus. “I won’t pry any further.” He paused. “I am aware of one other magician in this town who claims to be from an otherworld. Let me ask you this question: what are you planning on doing here?”

“A sort of portal exchange,” I said. “My world has many objects that could be used to this world’s benefit. Not to mention the knowledge I have about the world and how it works.”

“You certainly did demonstrate an exceptional knowledge of alchemy,” said Mikayus.

“I studied the stuff in school,” I said. I certainly had done chemistry labs during college and high school. Compared to the education of the average peasant from the medieval period, this was a considerable education in the subject.

“What school did you go to?” asked Mikayus.

“A university in my home nation,” I said. “I specialized in the study of the mind.”

“Ah, you are also a philosopher,” said Mikayus. “I took you for the type. Tell me, how does one contemplate divinity?”

“I am not so sure,” I said. “That one question may still be out of my reach to understand.”

“It’s good to be honest about these things,” said Mikayus. “In any case, we have arrived.”

We stood before a hole-in-the-wall shop whose only window was crusted and obviously salvaged. The whole place had a rickety look that did not really endear me to it.

Mikayus, paying no attention to the state of the building, pushed his way through the curtain in the doorway.

“Ma!” he yelled. “A brown soup for two!”

I followed him in. The interior, just like the outside, was rickety and poorly constructed. But I did smell an incredible aroma coning from behind the bar counter. A fat woman was cooking, dancing with surprising grace among the stoves and pots. She pushed two cracked ceramic bowls towards us before we sat down, and as we sat, she ladled huge portions of soup in to each one.

“Eat up,” she said.

I took my first bite with ginger anticipation. The flavor burst into my mouth with surprising complexity. It was unlike anything I had ever tasted on Earth. I could compare it to a mushroom stew, but that wouldn’t give it justice. It was, quite literally, impossible to describe.

The meat in the stew was gamey but flavorful. The noodles were soft and chewy, with just the right consistency. Overall, I really enjoyed it.

Mikayus took his time eating, and finished five minutes after I did. He wiped his mouth with a dainty handkerchief and stood up.

“Thanks,” he said, passing the woman a few copper coins.

We walked out of the establishment. The air was cold and I could see Mikayus’s breath come out in clouds.

“We are prepared to purchase more of the magic items which you seem to have so many of,” said Mikayus. “We will keep your involvement a secret so as not to attract too much attention. Somehow the guild is going to manage to sell off the items without garnering the eyes of any important people. We will, as always, pay a fair price.” He paused. “Do you have anywhere to stay for tonight?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Then stay with me until you can find yourself a good home. With the money you made today you’ll be able to afford a mansion. But one does not go about buying such estates in an evening.”

“Thanks,” I said.

We stopped in front of a respectable-looking building.

“This is my house,” said Mikayus.

He opened the door and I entered.

Otherworld Businessman Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

“Hello, is this the residence of Samuel Ran?”

A reporter was standing at my doorstep. It was six in the morning and I had been woken rudely by the doorbell.

“Um, yes,” I said.

The reporter shoved a mic into my face. “Tell me about the mysterious gold coin collection you found in your backyard.”

“I, ah, I was using a metal detector and it just went off behind my shed,” I said.

I had, of course, purchased a metal detector and dug a convincing hole behind my shed before going to bed the night before. It looked like my efforts paid off.

“Tell us more,” said the reporter.

“We’re live, we’re live,” I heard the cameramen say to each other.

This was getting out of hand.

“I don’t have anything to say,” I said. “I found it. That’s all.”

“What are you going to do with the estimated five hundred thousand dollars the collection is worth after selling it?”

“Get a better car,” I said. I put my hand in front of my eyes. “Please, no more.”

“We have more questions!” said the reporter.

Two more news vans parked in front of my house. I backed up without finishing the conversation and slammed the door. I then slid to the ground behind it and placed my face in my hands.

This was not good. Not good at all. I got up and turned on the TV in the living room, changing it to the local news channel. There I was, talking about the find. This was the local news station, so I hoped my story had stayed that way. I sat down on the couch in front of the TV and groaned. This was not a good start to my adventures in the other world. If this portal was made public, who knew what would happen to me and that world? It would be a disaster of the highest ordinance. I decided then and there to be stealthier about the stuff I brought back from that world. I would have to do a better job of laundering the gold I got. Maybe even to the point of going underground. The less questions asked, the better.

I sighed and turned off the TV. Peeking through the window, I saw at least five news vans and at lest a dozen reporters. I shut all the blinds and pulled all the curtains.

I still needed to actually sell the coins I had. I would go to the same place as before, of course. Everyone knew about my find now. There was no use hiding it. The only thing going for me was the fact that this gold was untraceable, being from an alternate reality. So there was no way they would think I stole it from somewhere. It wasn’t Earth currency.

I took a few deep breaths. I would have to deal with those reporters eventually. Standing up, I approached the door, and then hung my hand over the doorknob. I needed to prepare myself for what was about to happen. I grabbed the bag of coins from the table next to the door and took a deep breath. Into the wild!

I opened the door to a flurry of camera flashes. I shaded my eyes with my palm. The number of reporters was staggering. I was definitely more than local news at this point. I remembered all the other stories of people finding a large amount of gold on their property. I just hoped that the law would be in my favor for this one and I would get to keep the money I made through the sale of the gold.

I walked towards the driveway, where my car was parked.

“Do you have any statements?” said a reporter, holding a mic towards me.

“No, I told you, I’m not saying anything,” I said. “You can get the story from the coin shop owner. Greetsie’s Coins.”

“Is that where you’re planning on selling your find?” said a reporter.

“Yes. No. I mean, yes. Please stop bothering me.” I got into my car and closed the doors. The reporter walked beside my car as I pulled out, pointing a camera at me.

I drove with an entourage to the coin shop, which was indeed called Greetsie’s Coins. I brought the bag through and was faced with three policemen. One of them held out a badge.

“I’m sorry,” said the policeman in front. “We haven’t found any evidence of foul play, but we do want to make sure that you know this transaction is being recorded. Mr. Greetsie has agreed to buy the coins from you at spot plus thirty percent. We’re here at his request to make sure that there are no problems with the transaction.”

I placed the bag of coins on the table. Mr. Greetsie, the person I met yesterday behind the counter, began counting the coins. Cameras went off outside the shop, though the reporters had not been let inside. Mr. Greetsie continued to count the coins with an intense expression on his face.

“Three hundred and two coins at about an ounce each, totaling three hundred and ten ounces. I will pay you spot plus thirty percent, up from ten percent in our initial negotiations as I believe these coins, though of unknown origin, are valuable to collectors.” He handed me a contract. “Sign this. Gold prices are currently one thousand, eight hundred and twelve dollars an ounce. That comes out to seven hundred and thirty thousand, two hundred and thirty-six dollars.” He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a suitcase of cash. “I’ve liquidated most of my assets to make this purchase in cash,” he said. He handed me the suitcase.

I held it. It was heavier than I though it would be.

Here I was, living out one of the things on my bucket list, namely holding a suitcase full of hundred dollar bills.

“We can give you an escort to the bank,” said one of the police officers. “And we can be witnesses for you to make your deposit. Of course this is all going to have to go through official channels.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Do you know of any financial advisors that I can contact?”

“Smart man,” said Mr. Greetsie. He handed me a beat-up business card. “This is the guy I use.”

I thanked Mr. Greetsie and left the shop. The three cops pushed away the reporters as I headed towards my car. I got in, started it, and drove for the nearest bank.

The three officers followed me in two patrol carts. We made it to the bank and I brought the suitcase full of cash out.

Two hours of paperwork later, I had myself a fat bank account. Now I needed to see a financial advisor. I looked at the business card that had been handed to me as I sat in my car outside the bank.

“We’ll be taking our leave,” said one of the officers, before stepping away and driving off.

I sat in the car for another five minutes contemplating what I was about to do, and then I started the car and drove across town to where the financial advisor’s office was located.

Dan Timmers, was the man’s name. I stopped in front of his office, which occupied a nondescript strip mall along with a pizza place and a fitness gym.

I got out of my car and entered the office. The receptionist looked up at me and I could see the boredom in her face. “You look familiar,” she said. “Are you famous?”

“No,” I said.

“Never mind then,” said the receptionist. “Are you here to see Mr. Timmers?”
 “Yes,” I said.

“Do you have an appointment?” said the receptionist.

“No, but, uh, I kind of need to see him now,” I said.

“The nearest appointment is in a week,” said the receptionist.

“Fine, then, put me down.”

I left the office feeling a bit defeated. I needed someone who I could talk with about selling the gold I was bound to bring back from my travels in the otherworld. If I couldn’t figure out a way to sell the stuff without making a big stink, I wouldn’t be able to start a business.

After all, this first venture was exceptionally profitable. Fifty bucks worth of normal household modern goods sold for seven hundred thousand dollars worth of gold.

That got me thinking. Should I really keep this place a secret? There was so much that could happen if I made this public. The government would get involved, more people would try profiteering, and, well, you get the rest.

I then made a decision. This world needed more study to figure out what kind of a place it was. If I could use my modern connection to help the people of that world, I would. I had made enough money already to support myself for a good while and I didn’t need more. I decided that I would scout out the world and if I thought it would help I would make the door public. Then, of course, the government would get involved, as the sovereign entities within the closet were as legitimate as those of the United Nations.

However, at this moment, the door was no larger than a closet. There was no way to facilitate a true “Columbian Exchange,” or more accurately “Closet Exchange” of goods and technology between worlds. I mean, magic worked there! That was something worth studying!

I would do my legwork and then figure out how to break this information to the people who mattered.

“Hey, there, Mr. President,” I would say. “I found a portal to another universe in my closet! How about that!”

I chuckled to myself in the car and drove to the nearest gun shop. This was America so it wasn’t too difficult. I walked up to the counter.

“I need a rifle, a pistol, and some ammunition,” I said.

“Fill this out,” said the clerk.

I filled out the information for a background check. Of course I had no prior involvement with the law. When the check came back clear I bought a Remington 700 rifle and a Smith and Wesson pistol in 9 mm. I bought enough ammunition, I figured, for a small firefight. I then caught sight of a crossbow hanging behind the counter.

“I’ll take that,” I said.

Ten minutes later I was back in my car and headed for the local grocery store. There I bought more canned soda, canned goods, and plastic utensils and such, until I filled up two cartloads. I packed the stuff into my trunk. It barely fit, which reminded me that I needed a new car.

But that would be later. I needed to keep my cool when it came to buying stuff. I also went to the hardware store and bought a number of items, including a large wagon which I was planning on using to transport my goods.

With everything strapped to the car and packed tight enough to make me worry about my car scraping the concrete, I headed home.

When I got there I set everything up and transported all the goods through the closet portal. I set up the wagon and piled the goods on top. It was no problem to take the wagon down the path towards the city.

I knew I needed a “wizard’s amulet” to make my travel inside the city easier. However, I figured that I could at least get through this once like I did before.

I got into the line to enter the city. When I reached the soldiers at the gate, one of them recognized me.

“Hey, you’re that weird wizard who came here yesterday,” he said.

“Sorry, do you mind letting me through again?” I said. “I managed to forget my wizard’s pass again.”

“Aya,” said the guard. “Don’t do it again. You can get a replacement at the guild.” He waved me through.

Easy enough, I supposed. Now was where the real magic happened.

Otherworld Businessman Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

The day I discovered the portal in my closet was the day I graduated from college. I had just put away my academic gown when I noticed a shining light coming from behind the packed clothes. I walked towards it, pushing my way through shirts I barely used, and came out onto the side of a mountain. The world stretched out before me. Not my world, I could tell. The air was too clear, for one. And there was a medieval city smack dab in the center of the valley formed by the mountains. No cars, no electricity, no trains. I was inside of a bona fide Narnia. I shielded my eyes from the sun and watched the horse drawn carriages travel along the dirt paths.

I remembered an aphorism from somewhere. If one ever got the chance to head to a preindustrial world, one must bring with them a six pack of soda. The aluminum in the cans would be worth more than its weight in gold. I was now in this situation and I needed a six pack of soda. So I turned around and returned to my own closet. The world was just as I had left it. I had been renting with two roommates and was about to move out. Now that I had my own personal otherworld in my closet, I didn’t think I needed to do that anymore. I was beginning to hatch a perfect plan.

First I would trade aluminum from soda cans as well as various other practically magical objects from my reality for some coinage from that realm. Then I would go to a coin shop and sell them for their weight in gold and silver. Boom, perfect way to make a ton of money. Ten bucks for a twenty-four pack of soda and I could walk home with as thousand bucks worth of gold.

I got into my rickety old sedan and drove to the supermarket. I was practically broke at this point but I had enough money to buy two twenty-four packs of soda and a bunch of other things I assumed would fetch a high price in a medieval world. Solo cups, cheap crystal glasses and wine stems, and a few lighters. I packed it all up and brought it home. Within ten minutes I had a pile of goods on the floor of the cavern that my portal opened on to. I brought a red pull wagon and loaded up the goods. The wagon had belonged to the little sister of one of my roommates and he had left it in the house. His loss.

I pulled the cart down the mountain towards the town. When I got to the gate, I realized that I would probably have to show some form of identification or at least pay a fee. I waited in line with a bunch of farmers and inched towards the gates.

When the guards came to me they looked me over with incredulous expressions on their faces.

“Ey, where you come from?” said the one on the right, a man with a big beard. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“I, uh, I came from a far away place with special goods,” I said.

“Let me see them,” said the guard on the left, a clean-shaven baby-faced man.

I showed them my stock. They looked it over with squinted eyes.

“What’s this made of?” said the guard on the right, pointing to the Solo cups.

“Magic,” I said. I didn’t expect them to take it seriously. But they did.

“Ah, I did not realize you were a wizard, sir,” said the guard on the left.

“Um, yeah,” I said. “That’s it. I’m a wizard.”

“Well next time bring your amulet with you. I’ll let you through this time.”

I was waved through. I walked onto a grand street that smelled like limp cabbage and fecal matter. This place obviously had no real method of sanitation, as expected for a medieval city.

I wandered around for a bit before finding a market. I had no idea how, or where, to sell my goods, so I decided to just talk to the nearest shopkeeper. The shopkeeper I chose was a diminutive man with a long beard and a helmet. After staring at him for a bit I realized he was a dwarf. I approached him.

“Sir, I’m a traveling wizard. Where can I sell magic items?”

“Over there,” said the dwarf, pointing towards the cathedral at the center of the city. “Right underneath the church is the magicians’ guild. You can sell your stuff there.” He paused. “What kind of stuff you got? Do you mind letting me take a look?”

I pulled up the red wagon. “In here,” I said. “I have some aluminum, some plastic cups, and some glassware. Also lighters and canned tuna and chips.” I took a bag of Lays and opened it. “Here, try this,” I said. “It’s on me.”

The dwarf took the bag of chips with a careful expression and sniffed it. He then waved his hand over it and a blue light surrounded it. Magic? It had to be magic. I wondered if I could do it too. I would try later for sure.

The dwarf took a single chip and placed it on his tongue.

“Salty,” he said. “And crunchy. What kind of bread is this?”

“It’s a potato chip,” I said.

“Potato?” said the dwarf. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a tuber from my home town,” I said. “Very nutritious.”

Goal number one: introduce potato cultivation to this pre-Columbian Exchange world. Corn too. I would look up the best way to do that when I returned home.

The dwarf ate another chip. He then grabbed a big handful and shoved it into his mouth.

“This stuff is delicious,” he said. “How much would you charge for the rest of them?”

“Truth be told,” I said, “I’m not familiar with this world’s currency. For my reference, how much does a horse cost?”

“Ten gold coins,” said the dwarf. He extended his hand. “The name’s Dwarmir. I hope that you bring me more of these chips.” He looked at the empty chip bag. “And what in god’s name is this made out of?”

“Plastic,” I said. “You can use it for a lot of things. You can have all the bags for free if you buy the chips.”

“I can see many uses for this substance,” said Dwarmir. “As a blacksmith this material could change how I work.”

“Then I’ll bring you a bunch more. I’ll sell the rest of the bags to you for one gold coin and I’ll be back with more.”

“Deal,” said Dwarmir. He gave me a gold coin and I gave him the rest of the Frito Lay Fun Pack. Dwarmir marveled at the packaging. “By the gods,” he said. “This is amazing.”

I waved. “Bye. I have to go sell the rest of my stuff at the magician’s guild.”

I headed towards the cathedral, which towered over the cityscape. When I got to its entrance I noted the presence of a small offshoot of the building. The sign above it read “Magician’s Guild.” I was glad to know I could read their writing. Perfect English.

I pushed my way into the building. It was massively bigger on the inside than the outside, probably due to magic. I wandered through the gigantic foyer until I made it to the reception desk. I placed a can of soda on the counter.

“I have here a magical goblet made of pure aluminum and filled with elixir of energy,” I said. “It is called, ah, Cola.”

The receptionist took the can and turned it around in her hand. She then mouthed a few words and held her other hand over the can. A bright light surrounded the metal. The receptionist’s eyes lit up.

“This is indeed aluminum. I will pay you three gold coins for it.”

I took the two twenty-four packs and slammed them on the counter. “I’ll take two hundred gold coins for the lot.”

The receptionist raised an eyebrow, which was very professional considering what I had just thrust in front of her.

“Two hundred it is,” said the receptionist. She counted out two hundred gold coins right in front of me and poured them into a bag. I then planted the glassware and tuna cans in front of her.

“One hundred gold coins for this,” I said. “Pure crystal glassware of the highest quality. Ten tins of super fish that was caught in the wilds of my homeland.”

The receptionist rubbed her chin. “Ninety,” she said.

“Deal,” I said. I collected my money and bowed, turning around and leaving  the guild hall. I made a beeline for the exit and climbed the mountain path that led to my portal. Once I went through it, I returned to my old world. I had about three hundred gold coins, each one weighing in at about an ounce. I looked them over and decided that they would be worth more as collector’s pieces than for their bulk gold content. I would just have to see how a jeweler would react to these things.

I looked up the location of the nearest coin shop and got into my car to head there. Ten minutes later I walked through the classic coin shop door and into a nice looking establishment. The person behind the counter was flipping through their phone.

I walked up to the counter, placing a single one of the coins on the glass. “How much for this,” I said.

The man walked up to me and picked up the coin. “Hm,” he said. “I don’t recognize this coin. Where did you find it?”

“I found it buried in my backyard,” I said. “I just got a metal detector and was practicing.” I took out the rest of the coins. “And I found all these too.”

“Whoa,” said the man. “That’s a lot of gold. We’re going to have to report this.”

“Um, sure,” I said. “Why?”

“Because we don’t know where this stuff came from,” said the man. “If we call the authorities and a museum is missing half their collection we’ll know where these came from.” He picked up another coin. “But I’ve never seen anything like this before. I don’t even recognize the language.” He clacked it against another coin. “But I do know it is pure gold. Do you mind staying here while I make a few phone calls?”

This may not have been a good idea. I would have to dig a hole in my backyard before any authorities got there.

The man took out his phone and called someone. He spoke for a few minutes and then put the phone down. “I’ll make you a temporary offer of spot plus ten percent. I don’t know the real value of these for a collector but you don’t have to sell them to me now. You can wait until we know what they’re actually worth. If you give me a coin or two for me to send to a grading company I’ll pay the fees.”

“Here,” I said, handing him three gold coins. I took the rest of the coins off the counter.

“Give me your number,” said the man.

I gave him my number and left the store. I knew now that I had made a mistake. There were no cops coming down the street, but I felt as if they would be here any minute. Not a good idea, not a good idea.

How else was I supposed to sell these, then? That was what I was wondering. I needed money to buy stuff to sell to this medieval world for more money. I really needed to rethink my strategy.

I decided to stash away the gold until I figured out a better was to sell it.

Little did I know that I would soon become headline news all over my state.

Winds of Magic Chapter 14

 

Chapter 14

I woke up to the sound of something shattering. Throwing off my covers, I got dressed in order to investigate. I walked through my house until I came to the source of the sound. Rei was in her backyard, adjacent to mine, and was practicing her destructive magic.

“Up this late?” I said, walking through the gate that separated our backyards.

“Same to you,” said Rei.

“I just woke up,” I said. “You training?”

“I am,” said Rei. “I want to be the best. I’m going to get onto the team as a starter as soon as possible.”

“Don’t bother the neighbors,” I said.

“I won’t,” said Rei.

I typed a few things into my casting device. It took about two minutes to charge and then threw up a sound proof barrier surrounding the backyard.

“Now you can work in peace,” I said. I sat down in a lawn chair and took a breath of the fine night time air. I watched Rei crack pillars of ice for over an hour and then returned to bed, leaving her to her training.

I needed my sleep, anyways. I had a lot of work to do the next day.

When I woke up it was light outside, but my alarm clock had not gone off yet. I got out of bed and checked the backyard. Rei wasn’t there. I went over to her front door and knocked. Rei appeared after a few minutes and let me in.

I donned an apron. “My turn,” I said. I put together a breakfast of over easy eggs, hash brown, and pancakes. Rei and I had a deal. When both of our sets of parents were gone, I cooked one meal and she cooked the next, switching between us. It was an arrangement that suited us.

When we were done we got ready for school and headed to campus. The walkways were sparsely populated, as the first classes of the day had not yet started. We both went to the curling clubhouse beneath Battle Tower. Rei split to go to the team’s room while I arrived in the auxiliary clubhouse. I was the last of the members to arrive.

“Right on time,” said Alice. “Have you figured out how to decode the book I gave you?”

“I haven’t started,” I said. “If you don’t mind I’d like to start now. I’m sure you don’t really need my help elsewhere.”

“Go ahead,” said Alice. I took the book from my backpack and placed it on a table in the corner. “I think this book is a grimoire.”

“Well, that’s not surprising, is it?” said Alice. “How can you tell?”

“Instinct,” I said. “I’ve dealt with grimoires before.”

“Wow,” said Alice. “I wouldn’t have expected. Did you see them in your line of work?”

“Of course,” I said. I opened the book on the table. The spine cracked as I moved it. The pages were not made of paper but of parchment, which had survived the years a lot better than paper would have.

“When is this book from?” I asked.

“I have no idea,” said Alice. “I tried looking it up online but couldn’t find anything. There are also no identifiers inside that would tell us when it was written.”

“I think it’s a recent book,” I said.

“Even though it’s been written on parchment?” said Alice.

“Exactly,” I said. “This parchment doesn’t look like it was made during the preindustrial era.”

“How can you tell?” said Alice.

“There’s one way to find out,” I said. I took out my casting device. “This may take a while,” I said. I loaded a program for carbon dating using magic. It took about fifteen minutes, and another half hour for the analysis to complete. In the meantime I assisted with the small day to day tasks of running a curling team.

When the analysis was done, I checked it. As I has suspected, the book was only fifty years old. For a grimoire, it was super young. Most grimoires that were worth anything had been written several hundred years ago. But something told me that this book held a secret that would change a lot of things. Creating a single crystal superalloy not protected by governments would upend the market.

And that’s exactly what I planned on doing. I flipped through the pages, trying my best to analyze the jargon. When I had finished my inspection I put together a serum described in the book’s first chapter. It was easy enough to create with the materials we had in the clubhouse—it was a workshop dedicated to materials science, after all.

I had a precursor to a superalloy in a jar in my hands. It bubbled with a thick green viscousness that made it seem magical. Well, it was magical. I placed the vial down. The grimoire snapped shut with a surprising clap. I tried prying it back open, but couldn’t.

“Maybe we triggered a trap?” said Alice. She tried opening it as well but to no avail.

“I don’t know,” I said. I slid the book back into my backpack. “This is the second object I’ve found that has locked itself.”

“Second?” said Alice.

“I was going to ask,” I said. “Have you ever played a magic VR game?”

“Yeah, a couple of them,” said Alice. “My brother is really into that kind of thing.”

“This may sound funny,” I said, “But are you willing to risk your life for a friend?”

“Of course,” said Alice. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I found a manifested dungeon where you die for real when you lose.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of those,” said Alice. “Though I never thought you would be the one to find me one.”

“Are you in?” I said. “You may die. I can’t understate that fact.”

“What’s the reward?” asked Alice.

“Eden,” I said. “Or at least information about it.”

“I’ve heard rumors about that,” said Alice. “It’s something a bunch of crackpots are trying to do to the world. Like the rapture.”

“Yeah, that,” I said. “If you can help me, we can figure out what’s going on.”

“I’m in,” said Alice. “My life has been pretty boring as of late. I can do with some excitement. Until the tournament gets close, of course. Then I’ll have to double down.” She looked at the rest of the club members. “We’re going out for a while. Keep working on the second layer granite construct.”

Alice and I walked out of the room. Alice had her hands in her pockets. “Adventure is kind of sexy,” she said. She chuckled. “Anyone else joining us?”

“Yeah, hopefully,” I said. I took out my phone and texted Rei.

“Bring Jade and Tetra to the cafeteria as soon as you can.”

“Be there in ten minutes,” said Rei.

Alice and I arrived in the cafeteria and sat down at one of the larger tables. Since it wasn’t meal time, the room was pretty empty.

“Tell me more about this dungeon,” said Alice, leaning forward on her palms.

“Well, it appears that whoever designed it didn’t want to hide information so much as gatekeep it. I can’t think of any other situation where they would allow random people access to their files without breaking the encryption.”

“If my hunch is correct,” said Alice, “I would think that whoever designed the dungeon system wanted to find good fighters and magicians.”

“I think so too,” I said. “I think they’re testing people to see if they are worthy of receiving whatever is inside that flash drive.”

Rei came through the door with Jade and Tetra. “I’m here,” she said, sitting down across from me. Jade and Tetra also sat down.

“What’s the story?” said Rei.

“We’re going to try beating a VR dungeon crawler that protects the flash drive I found underneath that lake. I believe it will lead us to Tally and what those cultists are trying to do.” I paused. “And the kicker is that if we die in the game we will die in real life.”

“Yikes,” said Rei. “But if it leads to us finding and freeing Tally, then it would be worth it. Jade? Tetra? What do you think?”

“I’m with you,” said Tetra. “But besides that, I’m starving, and my cook has taken the day off. Do you mind if I get something to eat? I will treat you all as well.”

We grabbed a meal and returned to our seats. I chose sushi and Rei picked a sandwich that was pre-wrapped. Tetra ate daintily with her hand in front of her lips. “Tally is my friend, as well as Jades,” she said. “I will do anything to return her to us and her family. She has been missing for far too long.” She took a bite of her pasta. “And I do not want her to be sacrificed to an ancient bloodthirsty god. Who knows what will happen to her soul if she is consumed in a ritual like that?”

“We’ll get to her before that happens,” I said. I looked at Rei and she nodded. “We’re in this together.” I looked at Alice. “Oh, and I don’t believe I have introduced you to Alice yet.”

Alice waved. “Hi. I’m the vice captain of the curling auxiliary corps.”

“Jade,” said Jade.

“Tetra Pearlash, at your service,” said Tetra.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Alice. “I thank you for being York’s friends.”

“No need for thanks,” said Tetra. “York is a very easy guy to be around.”

Rei finished her food. “I think we should go there now,” she said. “We’re all free for the next hour or so. Can you tell us more about how we are supposed to fight in this dungeon?”

“Sure,” I said. “Apparently you’re given a class and weapons just like in a traditional virtual RPG. You can even level up. Some of the monsters are pretty scary though. The smell especially.”

“It’s all to save Tally,” said Tetra. “Jade?”

“I’ll help as much as I can,” said Jade. “I don’t know how much use I will be, though.”

“Aw, don’t be modest,” said Tetra. “Even as a Second your skills are invaluable.”

“Thanks,” said Jade.

I looked around at the party. “Are we ready to go?” I said.

“Then let’s go,” said Alice.

We traveled to the computer lab and I hooked up the flash drive. In an explosion of light all five of us were transported to the same starting room I had been taken to yesterday. There were two doors this time, and one of them had “level 2” written on it.

“This way,” I said.

“Wait, let me choose my class,” said Rei.

I waited as the party chose their weapons and their class. When they were done I approached the door leading to the second level. We entered and came onto a volcanic plateau that stretched far into the distance. Kangaroo-like monsters wandered back and forth across the scorched landscape. I held up a hand. “Since you guys are lower level than I am, maybe we should do some grinding.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” said Rei.

Grinding, in a situation where levels were important, was the method of beating lots of small monsters to gain experience points from them before fighting the big bad guys. This allowed one to have a leg up on the boss monsters when they did arrive.

We decided to kill at least a dozen of the kangaroo monsters before we attempted to head deeper into the dungeon. I leveled up twice during the process. It was difficult to face the kangaroo monsters as if it were real life, but I couldn’t die now, facing off against mooks who didn’t even have names.

We killed about two dozen of the creatures and, when I deemed that we were ready, we headed deeper into the dungeon proper.