ONE HUNDRED SIXTY-NINE: It’s Definitely Thursday

 

169

******

 

“Why did you think I was over a hundred years old?”

Alden’s fingers stopped tracing the seam where the table’s crystal inset met polished wood. Darn it, Esh-erdi.

“I just thought you were a little older than you are, not that old.”

Zeridee was sitting across from him in the only other chair. Behind her, the wall of her hospital room had turned into a giant “window” with a view of an Artonan city. Alden didn’t know which one.

“It is uncommon for someone my age to have the position that I do. However—”

“We’d just been rescued from drowning,” Alden interrupted. “It was a bad time for me to be estimating ages.”

The two of them had been talking for a while. At first, they’d apologized back and forth, but the trading of, “Sorry for this choice I made that might have almost killed you,” and, “I don’t think you should be sorry for that, but I’m sorry for,” had become undeniably ridiculous. So they’d just stopped.

Lacking any teas, Zeridee had presented Alden with a bottle of orange juice that she’d taken from the cafeteria last night. Porti-loth had caught her with it and told her she couldn’t have the fruits of foreign worlds yet.

Alden reached for the bottle now and drained the last of it.

The conversation they’d had since they gave up on being sorry at each other had been informative for him. Zeridee had strong opinions, covered by a veneer of professionalism and propriety that wasn’t that hard to break through. At least not as far as the subject they’d been discussing the most was concerned.

“So Ambassador Bash-nor delayed telling me about my planetary evacuation priority and all the procedures associated with it just because he’s offended that Alis-art’h gave a human Ryeh-b’t a commendation. And the idea of having to congratulate me irritated him.” Alden huffed. “That’s crazy and petty. He definitely sounds like a piece of shit.”

“He conducts the duties of his current office with more of a concern for his personal agenda than is normal,” Zeridee said primly.

Whenever she reached for her ambassadorial assistant mannerisms, the effect was undermined by her healing outfit. It was hard to look serious when you had things that resembled walnuts stitched to the knitted sack you were wearing.

As for Bash-nor’s personal agenda, Alden found everything he’d just learned about it uncomfortable. The current ambassador was a proponent of Avowed…

I don’t even know what to call it. Defanging? Demilitarization? Cuteification?

“He seriously wants Earth’s Avowed to be all Ryeh-b’ts?”

Technically, she hadn’t said “all Ryeh-b’ts.” She’d said more Ryeh-b’ts, and with the other classes being modified to more closely resemble the Ryeh-b’t model. According to Zeridee, Bash-nor was against combat-focused Avowed classes and talents for many species. But his current focus was humans. Weapon Meisters, destructive Adjusters, even things like Haoyu’s Boxing Gloves—all absent from the ambassador’s ideal world.

Instead of the Interdimensional Warriors Contract, he wanted the Triplanetary Government’s relationship with human Avowed to be something utterly different than Alden was familiar with.

What would the farewell letter from your home country look like if there wasn’t even a possibility that you could fight chaos? Instead of that line about using our extraordinary gifts to protect and serve the known peoples of the universe, I guess we would just get one about assisting important wizards with their important work.

Oh, but there probably wouldn’t be an Anesidora if everyone was more harmless. So no letter.

“You’re still recovering, and this is upsetting to you,” said Zeridee. “We should talk about something else.”

Alden leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “No, I’m not that upset. It’s not like he’s going to actually be able to do it, right?”

Zeridee started to shake her head, then stopped. “Of course not. Some members of the wizard class will always push for more Avowed with the specific abilities that would be useful to them personally, as well as for more access to those Avowed. And others will always push against them in favor of what they believe to be better. Compromises will be necessary.”

Rabbits, thought Alden. Nearly instant summons for non-emergencies, limited refusals, powers that are way more useful in everyday life than being a sword-wielding death machine.

Powers that are way more useful to the average wizard than us being death machines, too.

“Completely changing the current state of things would be unrealistic,” said Zeridee. “At the moment, the ambassador’s goal is only to increase the percentage of Ryeh-b’t class assignments for your species. The request has been presented many times over the years and held back due to…the adamance of certain others. The percentage is currently low, especially considering how popular the idea of more summonable humans is among most wizards.”

“What about how humans feel about it?” Alden demanded.

“…it’s moderately popular among Anesidorans, too.”

Alden let his arms fall and took a breath. Right. Duh. I myself find the idea of not being summoned into combat totally desirable. I would vote for that if I had a vote.

And Rabbit’s a class people struggle to get.

If Bash-nor wanted to start by doubling or tripling the number of Rabbit class assignments offered on Earth, there would probably still be plenty of takers.

Alden had been letting his distaste for the man’s presumed reasons affect his own reasoning.

But everything I know about him looks even more unpleasant in this light.

Not just the personal situation with the flyer. What about those parties Zeridee had mentioned, where he challenged Avowed to try to break his shields on the ambassadorial residence? If he was against humans with combat powers, was that just party stupidity, or was it some way of proving a point about human battle prowess?

And on top of that, Bash-nor didn’t like Zeridee because of the attempted class shift. Alden hadn’t figured out how to bring that up and learn more without prying into what was possibly personal territory. He’d been hoping she’d take the conversation there herself, but she hadn’t.

She did say something when we were arguing about whether or not I should leave without her. “I am sure the commendation you have earned for your actions is not a political move by the Quaternary!”

He stared at the image of the city. A building shaped like a shark fin rose above treetops that occasionally peeked out of a cloud of mist. Behind it, another structure towered, with balconies and terraces so covered in plant life that it was hard to spot windows.

“Zeridee,” he said, “does Alis-art’h not approve of Ryeh-b’ts? As a class?”

She looked away. “I will not presume to speak for her again. It was wrong of me.”

“Just because Stu told you not to use his name to force me into things!?”

“I am sure Hn’tyon Alis-art’h’s opinions are considerate and nuanced,” said Zeridee.

“But those opinions are definitely in opposition to the faction, or factions, that believe every Avowed should be a harmless Ryeh-b’t,” said Alden. “Is that right? Bash-nor’s not just irritated she commended me. He thinks I don’t deserve one and that she only did it to make some kind of a statement.”

A statement about how humans were too brave to be relegated to Rabbithood maybe. Or even about how someone being a Rabbit wouldn’t stop knights from summoning them and using them griveck style.

Alis-art’h held me together while she helped me write my will. And Bash-nor imagines that while she was doing that, she was busy thinking about how to use me to stick it to him and whoever else thinks like him? Like I’m so unimportant I couldn’t possibly be the main factor in the equation.

He had never felt more like he deserved the commendation than he did right now. “I’m going to have it embroidered on a t-shirt with a ryeh-b’t on the front and then walk back and forth in front of the embassy.”

“Don’t.” Zeridee’s voice had turned to steel.

Alden felt his indignation fade as he took in her expression. “I wasn’t that serious.”

“Take him seriously. Anesidora is now full of wizards who Bash-nor will often be busy with, and Esh-erdi has made it very clear that he’s invested in your wellbeing. It’s not worth it to the ambassador to remain offended by your commendation, so he won’t. But if you ever meet him, be what he expects a Ryeh-b’t to be.

“He is intolerant of slights from those weaker than him. And he is prone to pleasurable excesses that sometimes make him lose his fear of consequences.”

Alden’s seat suddenly felt a lot less comfortable. “I wish you didn’t work for someone like that.”

“He’ll be gone soon enough,” said Zeridee. “And I have chosen to be here on Earth surrounded by Avowed for my own reasons.”

After a minute of casting around for a more lighthearted thing to say, Alden found something he did want to ask her.

It might be more creepy than lighthearted, though.

“When it’s all right for your brain to get shaken a little, can I…no, never mind.”

“What is it?”

“I’m sure it’s not really necessary.”

“Please ask,” Zeridee said, her smile returning. “I want to be of assistance if I can.”

Behind her, the shark fin building was extending a large balcony from one of the upper floors.

“I’m trying to learn about my skill,” Alden said hesitantly. “And it was working more thoroughly than usual when I carried you. So, can I pick you up sometime?”

Zeridee looked startled. “Of…of course. If you think it would help you to train your abilities.”

And maybe I could drop you over and over on a mat to see if I could make the no-hands thing happen again, Alden thought.

He decided to wait to mention that part of the idea.

 

******

 

After leaving Zeridee’s room, Alden headed toward the cafeteria. He was hoping that the place would be mostly empty and Kabir wouldn’t mind loaning him a corner of the kitchen for his cooking endeavor.

The din he heard before the doors even opened let him know it probably wouldn’t go like he’d planned. The cafeteria was wizard-packed from wall to ocean view window-wall.

It’s the crack of dawn, thought Alden, nodding and smiling at anyone who looked at him while he skirted around the edge of the space to get to the kitchen. I guess they’ve all aligned themselves with an Earth-based schedule while I was away, and this is first meal before they go to work.

He thought about retreating. They’d probably all disappear in an hour or two to get back to doing good deeds around Anesidora. But he at least wanted to check and make sure Kabir wasn’t alone chopping eleven thousand squash in a potion-fueled haze.

He spotted a bald head, and his steps faltered briefly before he realized it wasn’t Ro-den. Just a little old wizard who looked delighted after biting into a banana. And now he’s tasting the peel. Is that even allowed?

In the kitchen, he found that Kabir had lost a lot of his manic energy and gained a few helpers. Three people who were either ordinary Artonans or wizards in casual clothes were working with him. Judging by the lack of spell casting, Alden was assuming they were the former.

I’ve never seen that many eggs in my life.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Kabir was cracking two at a time into a huge steel bowl that was already full to the rim.

“Do you need another pair of hands?” Alden asked.

“No, no,” Kabir said tiredly. “We’ve got it. It will be over soon. I’ve already decided second meal when everyone comes back tonight is just sandwiches. So many sandwiches.”

They’ve taken away his energy potions. Good. Poor guy.

Not wanting to be in the way, Alden left them all to it. He’d come back when the rush was over.

When he was back in his room, he called Lute. The System notified him that there would be a fee.

He’s still at the Palace of Unbreaking, then.

Lute answered. Voice only.

“Hi!” he said. “I never get interplanetary calls from people who aren’t related to me.”

“I’m not interrupting you, am I? I didn’t have anything that important to say.”

“No,” said Lute. “This is a fine time. I just finished the work that was on my schedule. My boss is ecstatic that I want to stick around for more.”

“So you’re staying longer? I was going to ask if you were going over to Thanksgiving dinner tonight at the girls’ apartment.”

“It wouldn’t be the best idea even if I was there. They’re having a pretty big group, aren’t they? I don’t want to end up meeting someone who almost died or lost their house thanks to my family. It would just add bad drama to the holiday, and I only like good drama.”

I almost died, and Lexi did lose his house and we’re still willing to hang out with you, man. Alden was glad he ran those words through his mind once before he actually said them aloud.

“You know, there’s so much crazy going on right now,” he said instead. “Lexi pointed it out to me. There are a lot of fingers pointing in every direction, and people are busy. It might not be as bad as you think. Haoyu’s already decided to be your part-time body guard and PR person. He’s thinking of telling everyone you’re looking into a surname change. Just say the word, and we’ll spread whatever story you like.”

Lute didn’t answer right away. “You guys are great,” he said at last. “But I think I’m going to wait and see for a couple more days. At this point, I expect Jessica to announce on live television that she’s the head of SAL while Corin waltzes with Hushmaker in the background.”

“I don’t think SAL has just one head,” Alden replied. “And if Corin did that, everyone would be really impressed with him for finally getting an infamous supervillain to reveal themselves.”

He ended their call shortly after that, and looked over at his learning cushion. It was in the corner, on top of his patched and repaired suitcase.