Wolf Who Rules

Chapter 18: Seek You

The sekasha suggested a bath and bed, but Tinker didn’t want to unwind and take it easy. Things in Pittsburgh were bad, and getting worse, and like it or not, she was one of the few people that had the power to fix things. The only question was how.

She placated the sekasha by agreeing to dinner and took her datapad with her to the enclave’s private dining hall. Maynard thought that opening a line of communication with Earth would be key. Yeah, right, just phone home. Riki had said that the dragon was the wizard of Oz, and implied that dragons understood how to move from world to world. She didn’t know where the dragon was, however, and from the sounds of it, both the oni and tengu were searching hard for it. Follow the yellow brick road? What road? Ohio River Boulevard? I-279? The last lead she had was the black willow tree and last she saw of that, it was flambé.

Wait, she had gotten seeds from the black willow. At least, she thought she did. She had Windwolf’s staff track the small jar down, and the MP3 player. Watching the seeds wriggle in the glass, she listened to the songs recorded on the player. It was one of Oilcan’s favorite elf rock groups, playing a collection of songs that her cousin had wrote for them. If you didn’t know Oilcan, the songs seemed to be about lost lovers. Tinker knew that they were about his mother. Odd how the words could stay the same but knowledge changed the meaning.

Tinker laid her head on the table and remembered Riki in another light.

Pony ran his hand across her back, a delicious feeling that uncoiled a sudden deep need. On the heels of that, like cracking open a bottle full of dark storm winds, a confusing wash of emotions.

“Don’t do that.” Tinker shifted away from his touch and tried to cork the bottle. She was too fragile for that.

“Have I hurt you?” Pony asked.

She shook her head.

“All day, you have avoided me as if I had. I need to understand — what have I done wrong? We are not fitting this way.”

She had? She hadn’t even been aware of it. “It’s not you. It’s me. I–I’ve so totally—” Unfortunately there wasn’t an Elvish match for the word ‘fucked up,’ so she stuck in the English, “everything and everyone.”

“Fuck,” Pony repeated the English curse. “Can you teach me that?”

“No!” She realized he meant the word’s meaning, not the actual action. “It means intercourse.” And once she saw the confusion in Pony’s face as he tried to plug in the meaning into her sentence, she added, “It’s a curse word generally meaning — well — anything you want it to mean. It’s one of the more versatile words we have.”

“How do you conjugate it?”

“Fuck, Fucking, Fucked when used as a verb. It can be used as a noun, indicate person, place or thing, generally derogatory.” This was the not the conversation she thought she’d be having with Pony this evening. “It could also be combined — creatively — with other words. Fuck-head. Fuck-off. Fuck-wad.”

“I’m starting to understand a little more about human fascination with sex.”

“Besides the fact that it’s so damn fun?”

“What is damn?”

“Pony!”

“I feel that it is time that I learned English.”

She felt a pang of guilt knowing that Pony hadn’t understood any of Nathan’s last words, that he had only seen her struggling in Nathan’s hold and her cry for help. “Yes, that would be good.”

“Why do you feel this way? That you have ‘fucked up?’ You have done the best you can against very difficult situations.”

“Pittsburgh is stuck here on Elfhome. Nathan is dead. Half the people I know probably hate my guts now. I’m not sure even Oilcan or Lain will ever want to see me again. I cheated on my husband, and seduced you! How is that ‘the best?’ Gods forbid, if I had done my worse!”

He reached out and pulled her back, into his lap.

“Pony.” She wriggled, trying to escape him.

“Domi,” he whispered into her hair, his lips brushing the tips of her ears, sending a shiver of want through her. “Have I no will of my own? Am I your puppet?”

She stared into his dark eyes and felt cold dread take hold. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Because if you’re in control, I am not to blame for my actions?”

“Pony, please.”

“And if I am not under your control, does that make me a terrifying stranger? Someone that you do not know?”

She clung to him then, afraid that he would slip away from her. “Please, Pony, you’re the only thing sane about my life right now.”

“You are being unfair to both of us to say that what happened was only by your hand. I am not your puppet. You did not act alone. You can not be solely responsible.”

“You do what I tell you to do. I told you I wanted sex and you gave it to me.”

“I choose to do what you tell me.” He took her hand and nuzzled her wrist. “I was pleased that you trusted me enough to turn to me and to stop when you changed your mind.”

“I’m just supposed to use you? Get off and then throw you across the room? Like you’re some kind of—” She was going to say ‘vibrator’ but elves didn’t a word for battery-operated sex toys. Nor did she want to hurt him more by being crude. “— substitute for my husband?”

“That is what I am. I am to be here for you when Wolf can not be.”

“But — But — And you’re okay with that?”

“I have lived my entire life knowing that as a sekasha, if I became a domi’s beholden, that she might take me to bed. And I knew, when I offered myself to you that meant all of me. My life is yours. My love is yours. And I have watched you fight the demon spawn themselves to keep me from harm. Nothing happened yesterday that I did not know might happen, that I wanted to stop, and that I am sorry about — except the part about being thrown across the room.”

If he thought this was going to make her feel better, he was wrong. She felt worse, and struggled to keep from showing it. Obviously she sucked at it as sadness filled his eyes.

“I did not realize until Stormsong explained that humans are so — singular — with their love. It is not our way.” Pony used the inclusive “our” meaning that they both belonged to it: she was one of them. “That is why we sekasha are naekuna; so you can turn to us if you need us.”

“Oh, Pony, I might have the body of an elf, but in here—” she tapped her temple. “I’m still a human. I can’t commit to one person — heart and soul — and then take another one to bed, without feeling like I’m doing something wrong. I just can’t.”

“I know.” He said it with quiet acceptance in his voice, and then nothing more. After a minute, she leaned against him and soaked in his calmness. It still felt wrong to stay so close, so intimate with him when she was married to Windwolf. Her logical side, though, was starting to recognize what Pony must know — that while she was emotionally fully human now, that in a hundred years or so, she would slowly grow to be elf inside as well as out. And to elves — a hundred years was a very short time.

Well, sitting wallowing in her own pain wasn’t going to help Pittsburgh. Time to pull rabbits out of her butt. How could she communicate across realities when Earth wouldn’t have a receiver for her transmitter? She already tested Turtle Creek for radio waves, and nothing recognizable was coming through. She entertained the idea of linking two phones together with a phone line and tossing one into the discontinuity. No, a phone would sink like the gate had. So would messages in bottles.

She sighed and slid out of Pony’s lap. “Time to get busy. I need to do some modeling.”

Communication with Earth was a simple science problem. What was happening in Pittsburgh was a vast sociological problem in which she didn’t know how to solve. She didn’t even know where she stood in regards to it. How far did her responsibility extend? Were the elves right in hunting down all the oni and killing them? The scientist in her could see the simple logic of it. Both races were immortal, only the oni were prolific and the elves weren’t. If the elves did nothing, the oni would win eventually out of default. Morally, genocide was wrong — did the elves have a choice? It wasn’t like the gods had put both races on one world. The oni had invaded, which put them in the wrong. It would be stupid to put them in the right simply because they failed to kill the elves first.

And what about the tengu, who seemed to be a race separate from the oni and on Elfhome against their will? What was her responsibility to them? Riki had betrayed her, but if the tengu children were telling the truth, he had been forced to choose between her and his cousins. She knew she would move the world to protect Oilcan; how could she hold Riki’s betrayal against him when that meant putting the children into danger?

And how many tengu were there on Elfhome? Would she be protecting Riki, the three kids and the unnamed ‘aunt’ or were there more? A dozen? A hundred?

Where did her responsibility begin and end? Could she protect all the humans and the tengu too? Or to keep the humans safe, would she have to ignore what was morally right?

And under it all was the dark suspicion that she didn’t really have the power to protect anything, despite what Tooloo might think. True Flame thought she was a useless child. The Stone Clan was trying to kill her. Windwolf had lent her his power, but if she took a stand against him, would he take it back?

When Wolf asked Tinker to be his domi, he suspected that she would be able to lead. Certainly, when she spoke, people obeyed. She didn’t seem to be aware that she had the quality, but the day she saved his life, everyone listened to her without quarreling. Time and time again since then there had been satisfying — although usually mystifying — proof that he was right about her. He found his domi deep in another mysterious project in the middle of the Westinghouse Bridge, overlooking the Ghostlands.

“What is this?” Wolf pointed to a large cylindrical machine beside his domi.

“This is an Imperial Searchlight.” Tinker patted the three-foot tall light fixture. “It uses a Xenon 4000 watt bulb to output 155,000 lumens. They say that the output is visible at distances of more than twenty kilometers.”

Wolf eyed the wires snaking away to either end of the bridge. “Do you have more than one?”

“Three. I tried to get four, but these babies are hard to find in Pittsburgh — and a bitch to move. They weigh nearly two hundred pounds and then you need almost four hundred pounds of ballast so they don’t tip over. I put the other two on either hill to get maximum spread.”

Tinker settled at the table at the center of the bridge. “I’ve got them tied together to this control board. I’m trying to track down a manual on—” she paused to eye her screen closely. “Ah, there, Morse code.”

Wolf crouched beside her. “You’re going to use the light to communicate?”

She smiled and leaned down to touch her forehead to his. “Exactly. By the composition of the buildings inside the Ghostlands, it’s clear that Earth is one of the dimensions intersected by this discontinuity. The blue shift of the area seems to indicate that certain spectrums of light are being absorbed and only the blue is reflecting back to us.”

“So other spectrums are traveling on through to the other dimensions?”

“I think so. If we communicate with Earth, we might be able to get them to help. I’m just a little worried that no one on their end will be paying attention — this will only work in the middle of night.”

“They’re missing a city with sixty thousands souls. They’re paying attention.”

“Well — there is that.” She kissed him and went back to work.

“Have you considered that the oni will see this too?”

“Yes, I know, that’s a flaw in the plan. We’ll have to consider any communication from another world as suspect.”

He considered this problem as she typed. “It is unfortunate that the EIA had been compromised. Maynard might have had a way to verify any communication from the U.N. is authentic.”

“Hmmm, hadn’t considered that angle. Human agencies that have security protocols. Wait — I wonder — what happened to those NSA agents?”

“The human agents that tried to kidnap you?”

His tone made her glance at him and giggle. “Oh don’t look like that. They only wanted to protect me from the oni. They actually were nice, once they stopped trying to drag me back to Earth.”

“Maynard will know where they are, if they are in Pittsburgh.”

She took out a cell phone and made it beep repeatedly. “I would have never dreamed having the God of Pittsburgh’s phone number in my address book.”

“He is not God of Pittsburgh. He is our servant.”

“Somehow I doubt that he sees it that way.” Her face changed as the call went through. “Oh, hi, yeah, this is Tinker. Say, do you know what happened to the NSA agents? Briggs and Durrack? Really?” She listened for a moment. “Oh cool! Can you send them out to Turtle Creek? I need them out here. Thanks.”

As she hung up, Wolf wondered what Maynard made of the phone call. It was a perfect example, though, of his domi’s leadership skills. She saw the need and did what was needed to fill it without guidance from him. All she needed was the authority of her title. And she probably did not realize how rare the ability was.

“They didn’t leave last Shutdown, so they’re stuck here.” She relayed what she learned. “They’ve been working with him. Apparently when they kidnapped me, he put them through a detailed background check. They’re one of the few people in Pittsburgh he could trust to be who they said they were. He was using them to weed through the EIA’s databases to find altered files and recover the original data.”

Her walkie-talkie beeped and one of the work crews reported in that the other two searchlights were in place and pointed down into the valley. The walkie-talkies tickled him to no end. That was what he wanted for his people — the ease of communication that humans had.

Tinker glanced up into the night sky. Full dark lay full on the land and the stars gleamed brilliant overhead. “What do you think? Is it dark enough?”

“It will not get any darker without clouds.”

“These lights are about two hundred times brighter than a normal light bulb,” Tinker warned him. “You shouldn’t look directly at them when they’re on. Okay, let’s see if it works.” Tinker radioed the other two units with “Turn them on.”

The three beams of light cut brilliant down into the valley. Mid-way the light shifted to blue, somewhat muted, but still dazzling in the pitch darkness.

“Hmm, that’s a good sign.” Tinker murmured.

“Did you plan tonight because of the lack of moon?” Wolf asked.

“I’d love to say yes, but actually we just got lucky.” Tinker clicked her keyboard, activating her program. The searchlights started to flash. “I’ve written a short script in Morse code — C-Q-C-Q-C-Q-D-E-S-1-K — and interspersed it with three minutes of darkness.”

“What does that mean?”

“This manual says it means ‘calling any station this is designation station one, listening.’ I’m not sure if that’s totally correct Morse, but I figure its close enough for horseshoes.”

She saw his smile, and her eyes widened as she realized what she said, and then she smiled too. He’d asked her to be his domi after playing horseshoes with her.

The searchlights snapped off, plunging them into darkness, and Tinker slid down into his lap.

“Did you—” Tinker whispered to him. “Did you have lovers other than Jewel Tears — and the sekasha?”

“A few. Not many. I had my insane ideas of coming to the Westernlands and establish a holding here.”

She made a small unhappy sound.

“If I had known you were in my future, I would have waited,” he whispered. “Think, this way I came to you a skilled lover. This way one of us knew how it was done.”

“I can build a hypergate jump gate, I’m sure I could have figured sex out. Insert Tab M into Slot F. Repeat until done.”

Windwolf laughed. “You delight me.”

“Good. You delight me too.”

Wolf considered the steep hills of the valley and the Ghostland below. “All things considered, I think we better strengthen our position. We’re going to stir the oni up doing this.”

Tinker looked up with surprise. “Oh! I hadn’t considered that.”

He was learning that his domi became so fixated on a puzzle that she ignored the outside world. It meant that she could lock all of her brilliance onto finding a solution, but it left her open to being blindsided.

“I will take care of it.” He stood up and kissed her brow.

The NSA agents arrived in their sleek grey sedan was so out of place in Pittsburgh that it didn’t need the D.C. plates to identify it as out of town. Nobody drove new cars because the parts were too hard to find, and no one knew how to service them. Corg Durrack and Hannah Briggs got out of the car cautiously, as if they were trying not to spook the heavily-armed elves.

Both NSA agents though looked like they could hold their own with the sekasha.

The tall, leggy Briggs wore her clingy black outfit that looked like wet paint, and slid in and out of the shadows with feline grace. A Batman utility belt with small mystery packs had been added to her ensemble, slung low on her hips, holstering her exotic long barreled handgun. Tinker couldn’t tell if Briggs was now flaunting her weapon, or just displaying the one that was impossible to conceal.

Corg Durrack had a boyish face and the body of a comic book hero. He carried his usual peace offering of a white wax paper bag, which he held out Tinker with grin. “Your favorite.”

“I’ll be the judge.” Tinker opened to the bag to find her favorite cookies — chocolate frosting thumbprint cookies from Jenny Lee. “This is spooky. How did you know?”

“It’s our job to know.” Durrack winked.

Briggs scoffed at this, and drifted back into the darkness.

“So what’s our little mad scientist up to now?” Durrack settled down beside Tinker’s chair where Windwolf had been a short time before. The searchlight flashed the work area with brightness as it cycled through the short message.

Tinker stuck her tongue out at him. “You know, I thought Maynard kicked you two out of Pittsburgh months ago.”

“You were only the top of our to-do list. It took 24 hours of negotiations, but we stayed in this mud hole after the last Shutdown.”

She laughed at the look of disgust on Durrack’s face. “You don’t like our fair city?”

“This isn’t our world and the elves seem determined to remind us of that every chance they get. Besides its like getting stuck in a time warp; Pittsburgh is missing a lot of the simple conveniences of home. The television sucks here. And I would kill for Starbucks.”

“Starbucks?” Tinker said. “Sounds Elvish. Who is he?”

Durrack gave her an odd look.

“What else is on your to-do list?” Tinker asked.

“Little of this, little of that.” Durrack said. “Gather intelligence.”

“In Pittsburgh?”

“You’re got five or six races stuffed under one roof, it makes for lots of secrets floating around.”

“How do you get six?”

Corg ticked them off on his fingers. “The elves, the humans, the oni, the tengu, the mixed bloods, and now a dragon — which the tengu say is a sentient being.”

The searchlight fell dark, dropping them into blackness.

Tinker wasn’t sure why, but she found it annoying that the NSA had apparently talked to the tengu about the dragon. “I didn’t know you were so friendly with the tengu.”

“Politics has nothing to do with friendship.” Durrack’s voice came out of the darkness. “It’s doing whatever you have to do to protect what’s yours. Pittsburgh might be under U.N. control, but its people are Americans and it’s our duty to protect them.”

“You realize the tengu lie.”

“Everyone lies.”

“The elves don’t. They see it as dishonorable.”

“They might not lie, but they dance around the truth. Like yesterday, during that little encounter you had with the tree. You analyze the events and it’s fairly clear that the Stone Clan tried to kill you. Forest Moss withheld his support until you were captured by the tree, and the building you should have landed in collapsed for no apparent reason.”

“I know.”

“He made elegant excuses why he was so slow, but it was all bullshit. He wanted that tree to kill you.”

“I know. You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Are they trying to keep you from building another gate? If there is a way to travel back and forth between Pittsburgh and Earth, the treaty stays intact.”

She hadn’t considered that as the reason why the Stone Clan wanted her eliminated. “Nothing I could build would transport the entire city.”

“At this point, I’d take a trapdoor back to Earth.”

Tinker laughed. “And I’m not sure I can really build a gate that works right. Look at the mess I made with this one.”

The searchlight flared on, bathing the discontinuity with brilliance.

“Is it getting bigger?” Durrack asked.

Tinker nodded. “And oni are coming through it.”

“Yeah, I saw the kappa you pulled out. The oni are sick puppies to warp their people into monsters like that. You know, the more I find out about the oni, the more I think the elves are right in wiping them out. The problem is collateral damage.”

“I don’t think the tengu are all that bad.” Tinker whispered what she hadn’t had the courage to say to Windwolf.

“The tengu aren’t oni.” Durrack said. “They were mountain tribes of humans living on Onihida, descendants of people that ended up there by mistake. The story goes that half of them were killed on a battlefield trying to resist the oni, and the true blood that defeated them merged the survivors with the carrion crows that been feeding on their fathers and brothers. Twisted little tale, isn’t it?”

“But it is true?”

“Their DNA supports the claim.”

The searchlight finished its cycle and dropped them into silent darkness.

If the story was true, then the tengu had been screwed from the very start, the moment their ancestors lost their way and fell from Earth.

“I’m going to do everything I can to protect the humans of Pittsburgh,” Tinker said. “But I don’t know what I can do for the tengu.”

“From what I’ve seen, there’s not much anyone can do for the tengu.”

“How long are we going to do this?” Durrack asked an hour later, when darkness fell over them yet again.

“Until the lightbulbs burn out, my husband loses his patience, I figure out something better — or they answer us.”

“Want to bet which happens first?”

“My bet is that they answer us, or the bulbs burns out. The lifespan of these bulbs are rated at a thousand hours, but there’s no telling how many hours they have left.”

“And there are no replacements bulbs?” Durrack guessed.

“Nope, not unless Earth can sling them through the Ghostlands.”

“Are we going to be able to tell if they’re answering us?”

“I have a collection of detecting devices aimed at the valley to catch heat, light, sound and motion.”

“Where are you aiming the spotlights?”

“At the buildings. I’m not sure if the air over the valley is part of the discontinuity, so I’m not positive if light passing through it will be visible on another dimension. The buildings though, will either reflect the light or absorb it, which in theory make them more visible on all dimensions, either way — but I could be wrong.”

“This just seems so basic. If it could work, then Earth should have —”

Blue slashed upwards, out of the darkness, pulsing in the rhythm of Morse Code.

“They’re responding!” Tinker scrambled to kill her transmission program. Her detectors were already translating the flashes.

Calling S1, this is S2, listening.

“It’s Earth!” she said.

“You don’t know that. Here.” Durrack nudged her away from the keyboard. “This is where I come in — remember?”

The searchlights flashed quickly through code and then went dark.

“What are you saying?” Tinker asked.

“I’m requesting verification. It might take them a while to dig someone up that can answer… or they might have someone standing by. Fort Meade isn’t that far from the Pittsburgh border.”

The valley went dark and then a reply blazed back.

“Someone standing by?” Tinker asked.

“No, they want to know if Pittsburgh is safe on Elfhome.”

“Depends on your definition of safe.”

Durrack laughed and typed. “I’m repeating my request. Never give info unless you’re sure of who is listening.”

“Most likely the oni on Onihida can see this.”

“Exactly.”

Wolf returned to his domi to find her looking unhappy.

“What is it?”

“We’ve verified we’re talking to Earth. The gate is gone, just like we thought. Pittsburgh is stranded.”

“You are still communicating?”

“We’re comparing notes — seeing if we can use the Ghostlands to our advantage, or close it up somehow. From the sounds of it, though, Earth is still fighting over who has jurisdiction.”

A runner from Poppymeadow threaded his way through the sekasha to hold out a piece of paper. “A distant voice came from Aum Renau, relayed from Court.”

Wolf took the folded paper, opened it, and read the five English words within: Follow the yellow brick road. He frowned at the message and flipped the paper over, hoping for more. No. That was it.

“What does it say?” Tinker asked.

He handed it to her. “It’s from the Pure Radiance. I sent word to the intanyei seyosa caste asking for help with your dreams. I don’t understand this.”

“Follow the yellow brick road? Follow the yellow brick road? Just point the sucker out and I will. So far, I hadn’t found any road — bricked yellow or otherwise — figuratively, literally, allegorically.”

“You understand it?”

“No!” She sighed deeply. “But it looks like I have to figure it out.”