five

After receiving payment, Triv showed Deeter Zor to his room. Small, only one candle, but clean, and an actual bed stuffed with cotton, or some local fluffy material. He tried to get comfortable, but he wasn't very tired yet. He was getting better at sleeping on command, though, so after recording a new diary entry, he fell asleep.

A bright light awoke him. It was not the sun, but a portable light source shining on his face from the floor. Next to the light stood a man. He yelped and jumped out of bed.

"Calm down," he said. He was average looking, wearing dark clothing that weren't at all out of place in this area, but the light proved that he wasn't. And the dark glasses protecting his eyes. "If I was going to do anything to you I would have used a smaller light." The man aimed it at the ceiling.

Deeter flexed his wrists to make sure the straps were intact, then asked, "What are you doing then?"

"I just want to talk to you," he said.

"Just wanted to talk? You people have made my life hell for the past three months!" he spat. "Why the hell should I talk to you?"

"Fair enough." He sat on the floor. "Gah, this wood's barely sanded." He stood up again. "I just want to know how you do it."

"So you can stop me? Not a chance."

He sighed. "Let me start over. My name is Prosstig. I'm not actually on this case, but I work with - well, other Klammet fans, let's say."

"I was explained why you are chasing me," he said coldly. "I simply don't care."

"I understand that. I personally wouldn't have made the decision you did, but I respect your right to make it. I have argued with the others on your behalf."

"Are you saying you want to help me?"

Prosstig sighed. "I don't know if I can. Obviously it has to be secret. If I get found out I'll be out of your life for good. Then you're totally buggered."

"I've been doing fine without any help."

"Is that a joke? How many times have we or local law captured you? The only reason I'm here instead of a hostile Watcher is because of your movement today -"

"So you can track my movement?"

"No, we can only track anomalies. Which your tesseracts are."

"Tesseract?" he repeated, unsure if it was untranslateable or simply a new word.

He smiled. "You don't even know what you do? We thought you were like Ariel, but I suppose not."

"No, Ariel was a witch. I just... use tools."

"I wouldn't say she was a witch, but I suppose we're using different vocabularies. You have a translator?"

He nodded and wordlessly removed it from inside his ear. It was also a gem, but oddly cut and shaped.

"Where did you get that?"

"The same - wait, you speak my language." He stared at Prosstig. "You speak my language?"

"I told you I was a fan," he said, smiling. "So it works on your ear canal?"

"I suppose. I'm not really clear on the details." He put it back in.

"No, you wouldn't be. You're from a backwater."

Deeter rolled his eyes. "Everything's a backwater to You people."

"The term fits. But I don't hate Klammet like you do, I mean no offense."

"I don't hate Klammet! If I could stay there I would. But you know I can't."

He shook his head. "Tell me how you do it."

"How do you do it?"

"Fair enough. I have a ship in orbit around this planet. I took a small shuttle to the last place we detected the anomaly, hid it, and tracked you from there. We can track you within a certain distance, you know."

"I didn't know. Do you have some sort of - electronic dog?"

He snorted. "Do you even know what electronic means?"

"Oh yes, let's mock my ignorance."

"All humans have body temperatures that are higher than yours, it's just infrared." At his blank look he added, "Heat signature. You aren't exactly fully human, right?"

"Not exactly," he admitted.

"Well, we have devices that - here, it's easier to show you," he said, handing him the glasses. They were far lighter than they appeared at first.

"Plastic?"

"So you aren't totally ignorant. Try them on."

He obeyed and gasped. "What?"

"Infrared. Heat gives off light, even light we can't normally see. You can see it with those, though." He picked them back off Deeter's head. "So like I said, most humans give off a lot more body heat than you do."

Deeter managed to stammer, "A dog would work better."

"Now, you answer my question."

He shook his head, and pushed the leather straps on his wrists up to his palms. "If They know where I am, I'm going to have to leave."

four five six

--note--

Schedule is a bit off due to Xmas and all that. Apologies to the three of you.

four

Deeter Zor tried not to stare at the large man shouting at him. He looked him straight in the eyes, then lowered his head slightly. "Really quite sorry, I had no idea. No one had bothered to let me know I shouldn't be sitting here." He picked up his bowl and cup and moved to another table.

The man scowled. He had dark dreadlocks past his shoulders, eyes darker than his skin, two-days' beard growth, and muscles bulging under his leather shirt. He glared at Deeter another moment, then slammed the axe into the table. "Mine." With that, he sat down.

The serving girl and Triv came out. "What's all this about? Maeske? Everything all right?"

"Yeah, 'cept for the wimp at my table."

Triv glanced at Deeter. "Well, I'll certainly go speak with him and make sure it doesn't happen again."

He sat across from him. "So, I hear tell you need a room for the night."

"Er, I do, but..."

"Don't worry about Maeske. He knows better than to attack fellow patrons. I've had him tortured for it before. It's been years now. He can do whatever the hell he wants out there, but in my establishment no violence is permitted."

"How very comforting... but yes, a room. I'd prefer to discuss this in private, if you don't mind, after I finish my meal?"

Triv nodded. "Just tell Stell and she'll take you back to my office."

"Will do, sir, thank you."

Triv strode off, and Stell came back. "I didn't know Maeske was back in town, else I'd have warned you," she apologized. "But you seem to have calmed him down a sight."

He shrugged. "I'm no fighter. I didn't know what sort of place this was, so I just deferred to him." He looked over at Maeske, who was slurping down his stew, oblivious to anything but his meal. "I do hope he won't cause trouble when I have to go out."

"He don't usually come in here covered in blood, so you should be safe."

Spoken like someone who never leaves the tavern, he thought. "Stell, is it? My name's Dee." Everyone else seemed to have one-syllable names, and "Deet" seemed stupid.

She smiled. "A pleasure to meet you. You'll excuse me while I see if anyone else needs ale."

"Of course," he replied. He wondered if women thought he was handsome. The mating rituals back home were so stilted he couldn't say. To tell a woman you found her comely was the height of impropriety, and women had been even more tongue-tied. He had tried to talk about it with his brother, but Anect had cared for women the same as most things. He decided to just use diplomacy, as it had apparently worked for Maeske.

He ate slowly, hoping that Maeske would be gone before he finished. Unfortunately the man started on another bowl of stew and a large sack of wine after finishing his first. Deeter sighed and ate up. He signaled for Stell when done.

"Would you like some more then?"

"Actually I was wondering when you'd be done working," he replied.

She blushed. "I promised me folks I'd be home as soon as I finished. My brother is the chef here, we walk home together."

"I see," he replied. He wondered if he was blushing too. "I apologize then. Will you take me to see Triv?"

She nodded. "Right this way."

three four five

three

Deeter Zor was bored. His third day on this empty planet. Nothing to do, little to eat. He'd wanted to stay longer, but he couldn't. He felt like he was losing his mind. Mostly he walked and talked to himself. He wasn't even using the diary, just talking out loud for no reason. Thinking out loud. Mostly about Anect. He definitely didn't want to record those thoughts.

It was time to move on, he decided. He reviewed his diary, and his money. He still had too much cash from the first planet he'd landed on, so he decided to return there just long enough to exchange it for gems again, and do likewise on other planets he'd been on. Then he'd go to a new planet back in Sector C. He'd been avoiding sector C after he learned that it was Klammet's sector, but it seemed not to matter much now.

"Jewelry store on Apsa," he muttered, and was soon in an alley. He quickly finished the transactions and moved on. He had money from fourteen other worlds to get rid of, but it went quickly enough. He skipped Bellus, where he'd been recently captured, so he still had that money. Time enough for that. He figured doing this every three months would work, and hopefully would confuse Them as well.

After concluding the last transaction, he found a spot to be alone and took out his map. Sector C. He tried to pick a planet not very close to Klammet, but then thought better of it. "Something near this planet that's no more than Steel age," he decided, and took out the diamonds. He walked through the portal and looked at what he could.

Which wasn't much, as it was night. He normally arrived in inhabited areas at night - not practical for the jewelry sales, but useful now. He could just make out a light in the distance. Probably not that far, probably candles. He walked toward it, and it appeared to be a tavern. He relaxed a bit. He loved taverns. He could talk to some locals, have food and ale, and a warm enough place to sleep.

He entered the tavern as surreptitiously as he could. The people looked mostly like him except darker, which was to be expected. The seeded planets were all the same seed, after all. The tables closest to the door went quiet. He knew he would always look like a stranger, but at least the translator would keep him from seeming too foreign. And the benefit about pre-steam worlds, everyone strange was assumed to be a foreigner.

He sat at a deserted table. The serving wench brought him ale. "Would you be wanting a meal as well?"

"Please, that would suit me well."

He stared at the girl, as most of the other solo patrons did. His current lifestyle had forced him to grow up quickly, but attractive women definitely made him feel every bit of nineteen. He smiled at her when she came back with a bowl of stew. He pulled out a few gems and asked, "Is there any room upstairs?"

She nodded. "I'll fetch Triv for you."

He watched her go back through the kitchens, then heard a loud roar and felt the table shudder beneath him. He trembled and turned to the large man bellowing at him.

"GET AWAY FROM MY TABLE, WIMP!" he repeated, pulling an axe out and brandishing it.

two three four

two

Deeter Zor looked around. The sun was low in the horizon, and the nearest trees were not that near. He pulled a blanket out of his pack and made as comfortable a bed as he could. The lush grassland was soft enough, at least. It beat sleeping on cobblestones. He pulled out a small fruit and ate it slowly, trying to savor it. When he finished, he began speaking.

"I will call this place Prairia in case I ever want to return," he recorded in his diary. "It's nice and quiet. That is to say, as long as no one finds me here. Tomorrow I plan to search the woods for edibles and possible shelter. Tomorrow night if I'm not quite so exhausted, I'll try to use the visible stars to place the planet a bit." He'd bought a rather high quality map, although it was still only two-dimensional, it had every known star system in it. And it didn't use "satellite telemetry," which he only understood to mean "tells someone else where you are."

As a boy he'd loved maps and atlases. Realizing that they were pictures of places that really existed made it all the more exciting, and he'd planned thousands of imaginary trips in his head. None of them ever happened, alas. Now, he never had time to plan new trips, he just went. He was truly looking forward to attempting the reverse. He almost wanted to chart out his entire course in reverse, but he knew better than to leave a record.

With that thought, he drifted off. His dreams were dark, as usual, and involved almost getting caught or killed. Beautiful women seduced him and pulled out tasers. Men he bumped into on the street punched him in the face. A Watcher somehow held his jewels in front of him, just out of reach, and crumbled them into dust.

As usual, he awoke feeling wretched. Some of those things had come close to happening, but fortunately no one ever had touched his gems. Using them was the only way he could survive. As far as he could tell, there was nothing else like them known in the universe. Not even They could travel instantaneously.

He ate a small breakfast of dried meat and crackers and finished the water in his canteen. It had a built-in water vapor distiller so he set it in the sunshine to refill. Then he began speaking. "Command: record. Day ninety-three. Days here are a bit shorter, it looks like. Judging from the sun's position it's summer. But enough about that. Now that I have a bit of time to kill, I'm going to make a list. Command: bookmark FACTS ABOUT THEM.

"Fact One: They travel quickly but not as quickly as I can.

"Fact Two: If a planet is past the Iron stage, the inhabitants know about Them by their lawkeeping functions. Before that, They are looked at more as wizards, if They are known at all.

"Fact Three: Most of Them I have met have been different people. At least, none looked the same, and their behavior was as expected for different people, rather than the same person with illusion spells.

"So, I will assume that they have bases all around the sector, and different people come from different bases."

He checked his canteen. It was nearly full. He strapped it to his leg, re-packed his pack, and began walking towards the woods.

"Fact Four: Not every planet who knows of Them supports Them. Nastier planets don't officially, but plenty of people have been apparently bribed.

"Fact Five: No matter where I've gone, They have found me within a week. Except the first time, which was closer to a month. I will assume that something about me is detectable. Probably the portals, but I've never tried traveling via 'space ship' so I can't be sure. But since They don't have them, it makes sense to assume no one does. Command: End Bookmark."

As he approached the woods he heard water. He didn't exactly need an external water source, especially a questionable one, but hopefully other animals did, and hopefully they ate things he could as well. Not that he wouldn't eat a forest creature, but he'd feel a little funny about it.

one / two / three

one

Deeter Zor smiled grimly. "Shine all the lights you like on me, I'll never confess." They'd searched him utterly unthoroughly, so he still had the gems hidden near his armpits. Unfortunately he was tied to a chair at the moment, but he knew what to do. "Is it possible at all to use a facility, or may I urinate right here?"

He could barely make out the silhouettes conversing together. Finally, one of them said, "Wait."

"I wasn't joking, you know, I really am about to make a puddle here." He tried to put a bit of urgency in his words. Lying had been a far easier habit to pick up than he'd imagined, when there was little enough chance of anyone finding out.

"Can't we just put him in a cell?" said one of the silhouettes.

"This fugitive is described very accurately in the Galactic Police's sheet. He is not to have his hands free."

Note to self: retie the gems to my wrists after I get out of this. "Oh come on gents, have a heart. Just give me a leather sack so I can relieve myself. I don't care if you watch."

One of the silhouettes muttered something that his translator didn't pick up - it had a problem with slang and profanities - but the first one said "All right, but if you try anything, we have six men here who can karakagab majajoon. Clear?"

"Crystal, gentlemen." They began untying him. One brought a chamber pot and stood next to him. He was huge and scowling. Deeter Zor obeyed the call of nature, using the right hand as intended and the other to scratch his armpit. After shaking himself, he replaced his prick and showed the man his right hand. "See, nothing to worry about." He then scratched his left armpit and sat down again, hands in fists, crossed behind the back of the chair.

"Why don't we just let him stew till They arrive?"

"Sounds fine to me," and they departed, still grumbling.

Deeter Zor tried not to laugh. In a low voice he said, "Command: record. Day ninety-two. About to escape from Bellus, a steel-age civilization with almost no magic, but enough to recognize Their authority. Literate, that is. I've only been here half a day and I've already been picked up. Incredible. Hadn't even had time to piss till just now. Anyway, without the map I'm not sure where I'll head. Hm. I'd prefer to stay in sector D for now, but a much more sparsely inhabited world will do. Maybe even an unseeded one. But liveable. Thank Ariel the gems work behind my back just as well."

With that, he first pinched his thumb to his pinky to end the recording, then spread his fists apart as far as he possibly could. The gems had to be a certain distance apart in his hands to work, and soon enough, he heard the noise. It was unfortunately true that the portal would appear behind him, but at least it appeared. He pushed his feet against the ground and the chair tipped him back, but far enough. It did not follow. Nothing but his clothes did, as far as he could tell. And his pack, when he wore it.

Pack. He walked back through the portal and it closed, but after grabbing his bag from the table, he resumed the ritual. This time he saw the portal, and it made him shiver. It looked like nothing else, and it looked like nothing. He stepped into the dark, walked a few steps, and the white portal to a world appeared. Prairie grass. He lay down on it and tried to clear his head. He always felt a little nauseated after Traveling.

He cleared his throat. "Command: record. Day ninety-two. What the hell is going on? How do They keep finding me? I've made it to an empty planet. But that could be merely what they want me to think. Ah, paranoia, paranoia. I will stay here as long as I can. I have two days of food, so I will try to find more. I have a poison checker, I hadn't had to use it in ages." Since leaving Shringston. He didn't say that. He had been assured that the diary implanted in his spine would only be found after his death, but who knew what tricks They had? "So, the people who'd just caught me had a physical description of me. I suppose next brush with civilization, I'll have to dye my hair."

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