TWENTY-NINE: Moon Thegund, pt. 1

 

Alden and Joe hammered out the details of their contract fairly easily. In exchange for fifteen minutes of Joe’s “sincere and best instructional efforts” for his skill, Alden would make one trip to Moon Thegund and back, using his own “sincere and best efforts” to return with one of Joe’s stranded assistants.

It was Alden who’d insisted on the “sincere and best” part because he didn’t have any way to be completely sure that what Joe was teaching him was as valuable as the professor said. He figured as long as the guy was trying hard, it would be worth a lot.

Joe seemed to find the requirement endlessly amusing. He kept working the phrase into every other sentence.

It was a short-term contract that would be renewable at any time by mutual agreement. Joe intended for them to renew it every evening while Alden was here at the university so that he could fetch another assistant.

The contract itself was built into the tattoo. Alden had always assumed that the symbols Artonans wore had deep and mystical meanings, but…

“Let’s say this half circle is a sunshine,” said Joe, pointing at the design. “It’s rising. So it will be the part that represents the renewability of the agreement.”

“Okay.”

“Excellent. And this line represents the journey you will undertake. Please do your sincere best to listen while I go over the fine details. I will update your lab assistant quest with instructions for you to go to a farm on Moon Thegund for a berry picking assignment.”

“Berry picking?”

“The System won’t teleport you directly to my old lab, since it’s not mine anymore. The farm is relatively close by. They used to specialize in cultivating plants with esoteric magical properties. It’s been abandoned for a few years, but sending you to get some supplies there is a legitimate thing for me to do.”

“Okay.”

Joe went on at length to describe the rest of Alden’s assignment.

“That sounds do-able,” he said dubiously. “But how is all of that contained in a single line on the tattoo?”

“Some of the shapes we use are traditional. But in truth, the line doesn’t have meaning on its own. Only the meaning we mutually assign it. For more complex contracts, it’s best to have the services of a professional,” Joe explained. “We would get high together for a few hours and have our minds brought into perfect alignment by the artist so that there would be no imbalances in our understanding of our obligations toward each other. It makes the contract stable and more thoroughly binding. This is the rough and ready version.”

“I think I prefer the rough and ready version. Are you saying that you could draw a picture of anything, and we could decide it meant anything?”

“It’s better to keep it simple. If I draw a detailed picture of a gravestone, for example, we would both be bringing a lot of unique personal baggage into the equation that would be hard to set aside.”

“So what if I accidentally think of our rising sun as a setting sun? Or we have a different understanding about this triangle of absolute secrecy here?”

Joe fixed him with a stare. “The ‘triangle of absolute secrecy’ had better mean absolute secrecy to you because I’m not budging on my requirements in that regard.”

They had already agreed that the purpose of the contract and anything they said to one another within the walls of Hot Lab 7 were never to be shared in any fashion with another living soul.

“I get it,” said Alden. “I was just wondering.”

“Then let me give you my sincere and best answer.” Joe smiled. “I am an experienced and powerful wizard. And you’re a clueless fifteen-year-old human. If there’s a disconnect between what I think we owe each other and what you think we owe each other, then my authority over the contract will absolutely crush yours like an insect.”

Well I guess that answered the question. Alden shuddered. “Don’t sugarcoat it or anything.”

“You’re not stupid enough for me to pat you on the head and tell you this is totally without risk,” said Joe. “You’d know it was a lie. But to give you a more comforting answer—if our understanding of the agreement was severely out of alignment, the contract just wouldn’t form. As it is, I will be taking on the burden of empowering the contract and sorting out inconsistencies on my end of things. You only have to doodle on yourself with the correct intentions.”

“I don’t have to put it on my face, right?” Alden was staring at Joe’s own heavily inked features. He couldn’t imagine trying to explain away something like that.

Well he could…but in his imagination everyone from Boe to Aunt Connie thought he should have his decision-making privileges revoked.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t, since my colleagues will have some questions for me if you start walking around campus with a tattooed forehead. Most of my human contractees choose to hide it under their clothes. I’m given to understand that bearing such a mark is polarizing on Earth, even among the Avowed, so use your own judgment.”

“Can’t it be removed after we’re done with each other?”

“You don’t actually want it removed, remember? It’s your proof that your illegal deeds were done under contract. Just in case. However, I can unlink everything but the triangle of absolute secrecy. If you use your sincere and best efforts, it will still take you a few months to rid yourself of the rest of it. It’s not like scrubbing off a bit of paint.”

The concentric triangle portion was small, but if it was sticking around, then the tattoo was definitely going somewhere that would usually be covered. When they were done sorting everything out, Alden examined the postcard-sized design and decided it wouldn’t fit on the bottom of his foot.

His upper thigh was probably a good place, hidden and easy to draw on. But he settled on the left side of his chest, partially wrapping the design around so that the triangle would be covered by his arm as long as he didn’t lift it.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to freehand the mark.

Alden stood in front of one of the smart boards, which had become a convenient self-facing camera, and he glued the paper rectangle Joe had made ink-side down in the spot he’d chosen. He could still see the pattern through the semi-transparent paper. He was supposed to paint over it one short stroke at a time with more ink—dark gray instead of violet.

There was even a metronome on the desk so that the strokes would be made according to the proper rhythm.

Joe was freehanding his own on one of his shins. Alden had the impression that he thought using a stencil was beneath him.

“Begin,” the professor intoned with an uncomfortable level of formality.

So I guess I’m actually doing this. Alden swiped the first stroke of ink over the back of the paper while Joe repeated the terms of their contract aloud.

A giant warning sign flashed in his vision.

 

[YOU ARE FORMING AN UN-MODERATED MAGICAL CONTRACT.

IT IS YOUR RIGHT TO FORM ADDITIONAL CONTRACTS, BUT THE INTERDIMENSIONAL WARRIOR’S CONTRACT CANNOT BE OVERWRITTEN.]

 

Really wants to be clear on the fact that it comes first, I guess. He swiped the warning away with the hand holding his ink brush.

Giving himself the tattoo was painless. The ink just felt slightly hot as it soaked into the paper. But there was a lulling, hypnotic quality to following the metronome’s timing and listening to the professor’s endless repetitions of the contract’s terms.

Then, about twenty strokes in, Alden’s brain gremlin suddenly took an intense interest in the proceedings.

The bargain is flawed, it told him flatly. Fix it.

His hand stilled halfway through the stroke. What am I supposed to fix?

The flawed bargain. Obviously. But Alden wasn’t clear on what his annoying, meat-hating gift from Gorgon had a problem with. He’d arrived at the conclusion that it could detect wordchain debt, both that incurred by an “uneven” person and that owed to them.

But though that was interesting, he didn’t see what it had to do with his contract with Joe.

Is it because he already gave me a lesson for the day, and I haven’t paid him back by running his errand? Alden wondered. Hey, jerk. You know I can’t instantly fix that right? I have to actually finalize the contract and then teleport across the universe.

He narrowed his eyes at himself in the smart board-turned-mirror and made another decisive stroke with the ink.

The gremlin lost its mind. It was having a full Velra-level freak out in Alden’s head.

Flawed, flawed, flawed!

But at least with the Velras, Alden had been able to detect the strangeness that upset the thing. Aimi’s handshake had been wrong. He’d felt it as an almost physical anomaly, probably because he didn’t have his magical senses sorted out. And even with Lute there had been an off-ness that he was aware of.

But now it was just the gremlin having a solo breakdown about something Alden couldn’t perceive no matter how hard he tried.

Dude, you’ve got to chill out. I can’t fix a problem if I don’t know what it is.

Was it worse because the contract was related to him directly? Maybe the gremlin held him to a higher standard than other people?

Alden glanced over to where Joe had his foot propped against the desk. He was about to apologize for holding up their double tattooing ceremony, but the professor had stopped moving as well. He was staring at the marks on his shin with such deep frustration that Alden felt it might be rude to interrupt.

A moment later, Joe’s expression cleared, and at exactly the same time, Alden’s gremlin went silent.

“Continue,” the professor said.

Well, as long as both of you are happy, I guess?

But it happened several more times while they finished their tattoos.

And every time, Joe appeared more baffled and annoyed than the last. Alden was ninety percent sure that whatever was going wrong was his fault, so naturally he played dumb when Joe started shooting him dark looks.

When they finally finished, the professor was sweating.

Alden hadn’t even realized Artonans could sweat.

Alden peeled the paper off his skin and examined his work. The tattoo was neither gray nor violet but a very dark blue.

“Does it suit you now, your majesty?” Joe asked in an acidic tone.

Alden kept his face carefully straight. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“If you’re that fussy about aligning contracts, you’re going to have to learn to compromise on your own half of things. A few discrepancies between us should be fine. We’re exchanging small favors here, not getting married.”

Alden dropped his shirt and finally turned to look at the professor. “Sorry if I made the magic harder. Or something like that? I didn’t mean to. It just felt a little flawed?”

Joe muttered in Artonan, then narrowed his eyes. “Do you realize you’ve just admitted to something extremely surprising, or do you perhaps think it’s normal?”

“I am normal,” said Alden, picking up his coat. “And don’t I need to go rescue people now?”

#

To Alden’s surprise, Joe took him to the building he’d first arrived in for the teleport. He called it the Summonarium.

“When I say teleportation to Moon Thegund is magically violent, I mean it’s magically violent,” Joe said as Alden positioned himself inside one of the patterns on the floor. “If you were one rank lower, the System wouldn’t even let me send you there. It’ll be much easier on you if you use high-quality infrastructure on at least one end. You should still feel…well, I’m not sure. To me it’s just mildly irritating. Try not to waste too much time rolling around in agony after you arrive.”

Alden hoped he was joking about that.

“Are you sure I’ll have time to make it to the lab and back in time?”

“Yes. Just run on the way there. If you can, use your trait. There’s a small ground vehicle at the lab for the return trip. After today, it will be much easier.”

His eye was flicking around behind its lens.

[QUEST UPDATE: Assist Superior Professor Worli Ro-den.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

Teleport to Elepta Agricultural Community, Moon Thegund, and collect marleck berries.]

“I really am going berry picking.”

“I’ve got the quest set to allow you to complete it in whatever manner you see fit, so it won’t bother you when you leave the farm. The place is overrun with marleck plants. Pick just one before your return teleport, and it will count.”

Joe passed Alden a small metal orb that was supposed to be full of instructions for his assistants. Alden took it and felt his skill activate.

[Time to teleport: 11s]

“Can I call you through the System if there’s trouble?”

“Yes. I’ll accept and pay the fee. I haven’t been able to get through to my assistants today, but that’s common. It should be fine with an Avowed there to stabilize the call.”

“How does me being there stabilize anything?”

“I’ll cover it in one of your upcoming lessons.”

The timer finished counting down, and the world went dark. It reminded Alden of the teleport from Chicago to Artona III…had that seriously just been this morning?

He mentally braced himself for pain or nausea, since it was supposed to be “magically violent” but he felt nothing. It was dark. He was disembodied. It seemed to take a long time compared to any of his previous teleports.