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  “Is that the lot?” Erik spoke to the elemental, a little nervously. If for some reason Jodocus wanted her dead, this would be a dangerous situation for Cindella. A potion of fire resistance might protect her, but would she be able to draw and imbibe it in time?

  The elemental turned its eyes of blue flame toward her. If it was capable of speech, it didn’t choose to answer. It did, however, move away, back across the square toward Jodocus. Cindella followed, with Erik experiencing a slight feeling of relief.

  “All done, I think,” he called out to Jodocus.

  The elementalist peered at Cindella from behind the protection of the earth elemental. “Excellent. They must have concentrated nearly all their defenses on the other side of the portal and just left those few snipers on this side. But let’s get the others through and move out while we can. Who knows how long we have before more troops arrive.”

  “Right.” Cindella ran back through the gate, pausing only long enough for Erik to confirm that the liquid flowing out of the holes in the pipe was simply water. Odd.

  There was a moment of flickering black and white dots in his vision and a hiss in his ears. Then Erik could see again. At once Athena jumped to her feet; Gunnar and Ghost were already standing, their bags over their shoulders.

  “Come on through. It’s safe.”

  “What was there?” asked Ghost.

  “About fifty snipers, but we’ve cleared them all.”

  Without another word, Athena stepped through resolutely and Ghost quickly followed. Gunnar, however, paused just before the portal.

  “It’s too late for second thoughts,” said Erik. “There’s just you and me left and they need us.”

  “I take your point. But all the same, I have an intense aversion to going farther. What if there are beings over there who can damage us, our brains?”

  “Come on.” Erik didn’t wait any longer and Cindella strode through the portal again. It was understandable that Gunnar was so nervous; after all, he had been made an addict to Saga in the past, like so many human players. Erik could not honestly say that something like that wouldn’t happen again. But that threat seemed remote, while the urgency of assisting Ghost and Athena was so very immediate. What a shame it was that out of all of his team Gunnar alone had made it this far.

  When Erik regained his bearings in the world of shattered houses, he was pleased to see Gunnar right behind him. So, too, was Jodocus, who held out his bloody arms to the others.

  “Mind bandaging these?”

  “Ouch. That has to hurt,” sympathized Athena, while Gunnar rummaged through a bag of medical supplies.

  “Yeah. I don’t look forward to releasing the elementals on my back and chest.”

  “I brought these with us.” Athena unzipped her bag and passed a rifle to Cindella. “Our energy weapons are pretty much out of power. So we’ll have to use their weapons instead. Would you mind carrying them in your magic bag?”

  “Sure,” Erik replied. “And I’ve already put in one of the rifles that the snipers were using; they’re more accurate.”

  Heaving her airboard from around her back, Ghost offered it to Athena. “Do you think you can drain the power from this for one of the guns?”

  “Yeah, good idea. Are you sure, though? You might want the board for speed or something.”

  “I think having an Atanski back in use is more important.”

  Erik knew that it was a sacrifice for Ghost to part with her airboard, and he understood why Athena now looked appreciatively at Ghost as she opened up a panel in the stock of the Atanski and began to connect cables to the weapon.

  After Gunnar had tied off the bandages and received Jodocus’s thanks, they all stood in the battered-looking square, the three newcomers looking around curiously.

  “Any thoughts?” Erik asked them all.

  “I’m wondering about these two elementals,” replied Jodocus. “If we are going to fight our way onward, then I’ll keep them with us. But if we are going to sneak, then—much as it pains me to say so—they are no use.”

  “Sneak,” said Erik.

  Ghost raised her hand to signal Jodocus to wait. “Hold on. Let me go up and have a look around first.”

  “Go up?” The elementalist looked back, curiosity in his voice, if not his face.

  Erik was not used to Ghost levitating, though she had once explained that her control over the air pressure immediately around her made it possible, so he watched with fascination as she rose slowly from the ground. Once above the ruins, Ghost turned about in the air before sinking back down to them.

  “How did you do that?” asked Jodocus.

  “I loaned her a magic belt.” Erik was not comfortable with lying, but he spoke out hurriedly, suddenly anxious to hide the extent of Ghost’s powers from the elementalist. On New Earth, Erik had no reason to lie and had no practice at it; as a result, he now felt a little ashamed and his human body felt flushed. Fortunately, though, no physical signs of evasiveness were visible on Cindella. It was awkward, however, that Ghost’s belt—now the center of attention—was a particularly ordinary and dull one. This was a difficult moment. Erik knew he could rely on Athena to follow his lead, but would Gunnar?

  “This region of destroyed buildings goes on as far as I can see. Except that way.” Ghost pointed back behind the portal. “There’s an undamaged building over there.”

  “So, what about my elementals?” asked Jodocus, apparently satisfied with Erik’s answer.

  “Best to leave them.” Ghost looked at the huge earth elemental with a slight smile. “This guy won’t even fit down the streets.”

  “All right.” Expressionless, Jodocus waved his sore arms. “Guard this portal and attack anyone who comes in sight, with the exception of those people with me now.” While the earth elemental bowed, the fire elemental flickered and created a rushing noise to acknowledge the order.

  “This way.”

  Ghost led them through the smashed-up houses, moving carefully and slowly over the rubble.

  “Depressing place,” muttered Athena.

  After about thirty minutes of picking their way through this bleak scene of destruction, Gunnar pointed to a house whose interior was largely intact.

  “Would that be a good place to rest for a moment? I need to unclip and take a break before we get into anything serious again.”

  “Yeah. It’s good cover.” With a glance around the group to confirm they were stopping, Ghost climbed in through a missing window. “It’s fine.”

  She settled on a pile of bricks and withdrew a flask.

  “Want some water?” Ghost looked at Athena and Jodocus.

  “I’m fine,” replied the elementalist.

  Athena found a rusty barrel to sit on and brought it over. “Thanks, I’ll take some.”

  “Right. If you’re all set, we’ll take a break. See you in about thirty minutes.” With a wave from Cindella to those who were staying, Erik unclipped. At last he could talk to his friends.

  Chapter 23

  HARALD AND ERIK

  It was after dark in Hope Library and all was quiet. There were slight motions from the seated figures nearby: Anonemuss and Inny were both immersed in Saga; Erik and Gunnar—well, they could be anywhere, but they, too, were sitting back, twitching and muttering beneath their headsets. Harald’s attention was on his son. Physically, Erik was slender; some might even consider him frail-looking. As a boy Erik had been as lively as any of the other children in the village, but watching their rough-and-tumble games had brought out sharp protective feelings in Harald. A residue of that emotion survived, and it pained Harald that while he sat right next to Erik’s body, he could not be at his son’s side in battle in the electronic world.

  The fact that Erik’s remaining human companion was the conservative, middle-aged Gunnar made Harald look at his son with new eyes. It could easily be someone else with Gunnar’s values sitting there instead of Erik. At least with Erik you could be sure the people of Saga would never
be abandoned. And nothing Gunnar could say would sway him. A smile came to Harald’s face as he remembered the determination and independence of his son; how Erik had fought the previous rulers of New Earth for Harald’s sake and for the sake of a more just government.

  This was no child lying beside him. It was a young man of considerable mental strength. And this person, of whom any parent would be proud, was his own son.

  All at once there was motion. Gunnar and Erik were sitting up and unclipping themselves from their consoles. Over at the main desk, Thorstein, the librarian, looked up and called out a greeting. After stretching his arms wide, Gunnar wiped the sweat from his bald head, then noticed Harald.

  “It’s madness in there. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Let me refresh myself, then I’ll tell you.” Gunnar glanced at Erik, who had removed his headset. “Your son made all the difference in our last battle. But one of the people from Saga died. It was awful. I felt so helpless.”

  “Who?”

  “Milan.”

  Erik gave a nod of confirmation and Harald could see the tears in his son’s eyes.

  “I’ll meet you over by the food, when you’re ready. You can tell me about it then.”

  Near the entrance to the library was a table with plenty of fresh bread, olives, and cheese provided for the team and after visiting the bathrooms, Gunnar and Erik came over to it.

  With an encouraging smile across his fleshy features, Thorstein got up from behind his desk to join them.

  “How is it going?”

  “In one sense, it’s going well,” replied Erik with a glum voice that belied his words. “We’ve made progress, and entered a whole new world, a war-torn city that goes on for miles.”

  “Oh yeah? How interesting.”

  “Yeah, but Milan, one of our friends from Saga, was killed getting us there.”

  The cheerful expression on Thorstein’s face faded at once. “Oh dear. That’s sad.”

  “Terribly sad. And it’s a warning about what might happen if armies from these other worlds invade Saga. Millions of people could die.”

  “Have you discovered who built the portals?” Harald asked. “Perhaps they don’t realize that the whole population of Saga has become sentient. Perhaps they think it’s just another game, full of NPCs.”

  “No. There’s no sign of anyone in charge yet. But I’m hoping the same as you: that they’ll stop when they realize they are taking away real lives.”

  “Have you got time to post something about this for the bulletin boards? The government is begging me for information.”

  “Not really. Sorry, Thorstein. We’re going to carry on in about thirty minutes and I want a quick chat with Harald before we go in again.” Seeing that the librarian looked slightly crestfallen, Erik patted him on the arm. “I’ll write something next break, I promise. I know the world is watching, but there’s just Gunnar and I left, and I don’t like leaving Ghost and Athena for too long—especially as the other person we are with, Jodocus . . . well, I don’t trust him at all now.”

  “What if I take a few notes while you eat and then post them?”

  “Sure.”

  In between mouthfuls, Erik explained the course of the battle to Thorstein, placing cutlery on the surface of the table to show the outline of the compound and using an olive to show Cindella’s position. Gunnar watched in silence until Erik got to the part about Milan being hit by a tank shell.

  “I didn’t see it myself; I was too busy fighting,” said Erik, looking toward his partner.

  “It was awful.” Gunnar stopped picking at the food on his plate. “I put grease on the burns and started to bandage him. But black lumps of his skin kept coming off. The poor lad. It was really sickening.” Gunnar put his plate down, half full and pushed it away. His eyes were damp and for the first time since meeting him, Harald felt some warmth toward this official. Perhaps some of Gunnar’s coldness toward EI people was wearing off, either because he was learning from Erik or through his appreciation of the personalities of Ghost and her friends.

  Erik turned back to Thorstein, who was still taking notes as fast as he could. “Soon after that, Jodocus—the elementalist—came over to us with a damaged air elemental. Now don’t write about this, because we haven’t figured out what is going on, but the way he acted was suspicious. He suggested that Anadia must have been shot by a missile. I don’t believe that could have happened. Her chariot crashed to the ground right next to me, but there was no sign of any missiles or anything capable of destroying her. And when I looked around the battlefield, I couldn’t find Jodocus or his elemental. Do you see? Where was he? Where was his air elemental? Why had he summoned an air elemental when we had the birds already? Why not a stone one? And the one place I couldn’t have spotted the air elemental was high up in the sky, hidden by the birds.”

  “So that’s why you are keeping information from him now? Like about Ghost being a RAL?” asked Gunnar.

  “Right.”

  Harald was confused. “But why would Jodocus want to kill Anadia? Weren’t they the last two surviving people in their world?”

  “I’m not sure.” Erik frowned. “Jodocus was accused of murdering an EI in Myth and was thrown off their governing council. When I first heard about this, I was on his side and believed his denials, but now I don’t know. What about you, Gunnar?”

  Gunnar looked somber and rested his thumbs in the pockets of his waistcoat. “No. You’re right,” he pronounced, as if in judgment. “I don’t believe him. I think perhaps he has such a deep grudge against the other EIs in Myth that he’s out to get revenge on them all.”

  “Yeah, I think something like that.”

  “That’s the reason he gives for wanting to come along with us, too,” continued Gunnar. “Vengeance. Vengeance on the EI who destroyed Myth. In his own way he might be as ferocious in his feelings as the Dark Queen. Maybe he’s ambitious and wants to be the only EI alive in all the different worlds.”

  For a while no one said anything, mulling this over.

  “Why don’t you just ask him?” Thorstein raised his eyebrows. “Or is that crazy?”

  “No, it’s not crazy,” answered Erik. “I nearly did. But this guy is tough; he is prepared to torture his own body to wield the powers of his elementals. And if we confront him, there’s a danger he could turn against us and kill us all.”

  “He’s that strong?” Harald did not like this new development.

  “Well, not him, but his elementals; they are very powerful.”

  “So what do you think we should do about Jodocus?” asked Gunnar.

  “Currently, I’m just waiting to see what happens. He’s helping us get through these portals, at least.” Erik glanced up at Gunnar, and Harald noticed with interest that the older man seemed to be deferring to the judgment of his son. Early on, in Saga, it had seemed that Gunnar had wanted to make the decisions for the team, but now matters had gone so far and become so serious that Gunnar was less full of himself.

  “What’s your opinion, Gunnar?” asked Harald.

  “Carry on. Get a better understanding of what is at stake. And . . . well, since the death of Milan, I’ve been reconsidering my attitude toward the people of Saga. We have to do what we can to stop an invasion of Saga. Then, when we’re done, we should leave all these grim worlds and never come back.”

  With a smile for his companion, Erik shook his head.

  “We have completely different attitudes about the electronic worlds. For you, they are simply a threat. For me, they are mysterious and while they can be dangerous, they contain the possibility of meeting new forms of life and perhaps new communities of humans in avatar form.”

  “I wish I’d never agreed to come and it was someone else representing our community in there. Another person like you, perhaps, who believes our future will be improved, not worsened, through these worlds. But I am there and I feel . . . shaken . . . about Milan, so I’l
l do what I can to help Athena and Ghost.”

  “Well said, Gunnar.” Harald held out his hand to the man, and after a slight hesitation, Gunnar shook it. Then Harald turned back to his son.

  “So you think Jodocus is a murderer?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you can’t be certain?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, do you need him?”

  “He’s a one-man army.”

  “All right then. Just be vigilant. For the sake of Ghost and Athena.”

  “I know.” Erik paused. “It’s getting tougher. And there’s no one to ask if I have to make a quick decision—well, just you, Gunnar. And . . . you know . . . I just wish you were there, too.”

  Harald reached up to clasp Erik’s shoulder. “So do I. But don’t worry. You’re the right person to be doing this. And not just because of Cindella. Your judgment of people and situations is to be trusted.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Go clip up.”

  “I will soon. But”—he glanced wishfully at Inny—“tell her I was thinking of her. And is there any news to take to Ghost?”

  “It’s all going well in Saga. Any army trying to march through that portal will meet fierce opposition. Our main concern is that another portal might open up somewhere. But the people of Saga have been alerted, and we have survey teams going through the less densely populated areas. The guild leaders are rather slow to make decisions, though, about the reorganization of the factories to produce weapons, about how to create an army, who should be general, that kind of thing. They want us to get in touch with Ghost and get her opinion on everything. I’ve maybe a hundred questions to put before her on their behalf.”