This is the second entry of V's third journal. Her script is more flowing than it's been in the past, as if this time she was using a finer-quality pencil to write with. However, the narration appears to be different than her typical style at first, which is unusual for her. You read onward all the same.A young woman walked through the halls of the fortress, seemingly oblivious to the chaos swirling around her. Dwarves passed by, pushing giant wheelbarrows at a jog; others stumbled along carrying heavy wooden bins filled to the brim with all manner of items. Young children played tag, rushing past and enjoying their few years of childhood as well as the military fortress could allow.
The woman noticed none of these, her dark hood overshadowing her face like a clouded storm. She walked with a purpose, just like all the other dwarves, her feet padding noiselessly against the cold stone of the corridors as she made her way onwards at a brisk pace towards the deeper apartment levels.
She'd heard, of course, the recent news. The hallways were always abuzz with the chatter of passing friends, and it wasn't hard to listen in. The sieging zombies were dead, and the necromancers slain. The common consensus was that it was ample cause for celebration, and Splint himself (the newly-appointed overseer, taking his second term) had lately organized the greatest party the fortress had ever seen in its young life. Even those of the basement class were happy: for some unknown reason, possibly in light of recent events, Splint had mandated the carving of a "skulker barracks", where even the homeless would finally have a home. Everyone appreciated this, especially the upper class dwarves, who were glad that they wouldn't have to look at them anymore.
However, the young woman didn't share their mirth. She saw no cause for celebration. She walked with downcast head, her cloak clutched tightly about her. Though her pace was brisk, her step was heavy. She'd lost a person she held very dear, and she felt that no blessed ray of sunlight could ever pierce her veil of sorrow. If one had cared to look closely, they might have noted a slender finger brushing a tear from her cheek, or perhaps seen two oddly shaped ears faintly outlined in the fabric of her oversized hood.
The young woman walking through the hallways of Spearbreakers was none other but me, and I was beginning a new life in the employment of my former enemy.
~~~
Reaching Mr Frog's door, I hesitated, wiping away what remained of my tears and steeling myself against my indecision before I finally turned the knob and entered.
"Welcome back," intoned the cold, unwelcoming voice of Mr Frog. "You're late."
"I came as quickly as I could," I said quietly, aware of the fact that my voice quavered from my recent weeping.
He stood across the room, bending over my shattered bracelet on the table and tapping it with what seemed to be red and black pencils with long metal tips, as he read some sort of display on a small box beside him. He straightened, putting aside his equipment. "Not quickly enough," he answered, leaning against the table and regarding me with an amused expression. If he noticed my moist eyelashes, he made no signs of acknowledgement. "I told you I have eyes everywhere, did I not?"
"Several times." I was beginning to wonder what he meant by that. I suppose I ought to have noticed the first time he said it, as I ran from him towards the old garbage dump to hide. The garbage dump has been reopened, as I understand it... possibly due to his warning that it was an excellent hiding ground to thieves. It might also have been partially because we needed somewhere to dump the thousands of bones that lay piled in the blood plains aboveground.
Mr Frog approached and held out his hand, scattering my thoughts to the wind as I pulled myself back to the present. "I'll need that cloak back now."
I slipped out of it and handed it to him, shivering as the cold air of the room caressed the bare skin of my back where my blouse had been ripped apart.
Mr Frog seemed to notice my discomfort. "You'll need better apparel, obviously..." he said with a grimace as he turned away to store the cloak in his cabinet. "However, the improvability of your wardrobe is a relatively unimportant matter, and can be postponed. You've much studying to do, if you're going to be my assistant, and it would be most efficient if you began immediately." Saying this, he walked to a nearby desk and bent down to press a button on a silvery box that sat beneath it. A rectangle of light lit up the top of the desk.
I caught my breath and walked towards it. "A computer," I guessed, awestruck. "Isn't it?"
He nodded, moving past me and gathering several glass utensils from a table. "Excellent. You aren't as illiterate as your appearance would imply." From Mr Frog, it was a compliment. "It's a desktop computer, created by myself using a conglomeration of technology from several distinct sources. Unlike its unwieldy predecessors, my model's control surface and display alike are the flat surface of a desk, and therefore, its functioning's efficiency is increased." He was working quickly as he spoke, and though I grasped little of what he said, I got the impression that it was something he was proud of. "Just begin reading,” he ordered. “If you see an article you want to read, tap the screen where it is. Nothing is counter-intuitive, and it should be sufficiently idiot-proof, even for you."
I glanced back at him with narrowed eyes at the insult.
"No offense, of course," he said, leaning out from behind his tall glassware apparatuses with a sardonic smile.
Turning back, I looked at the desktop. "The Fundamentals of Real Life," read the top of the display in large bold runes. Curiously, I held my hand hovering above it, and lowered it slowly. The lighting of the display neither dimmed nor disappeared, even when my fingertips touched the surface of the desk. Pressing gently with two fingers, I pushed away from me, and watched in fascination as "The Fundamentals of Real Life" scrolled upwards and out of view past the top of the rectangle of light. It felt amazing to be interacting with it - to watch it do want I wanted it to. It wasn't magic; it was technology... and it was wonderful.
I knelt beside the desk and looked over the silver box that sat on the floor beneath the desk. It was humming quietly, as if there was something whirring about inside. There were clear panels on the side that might’ve been possible to remove, but at that particular moment, I wasn't interested in the computer's inner workings. I was more interested in the odd slots on the front.
Two of them seemed to match Talvi's key almost exactly in size and distance apart.
Tremblingly anxiously, I got out the little envelope that Talvi had given me, now badly worn, and so, so carefully dumped the contents into my hand. I looked over the little key I'd carried about. It had two metal bits that were hollow, lined inside with strips of gold... I'd noticed it before, but hadn't really ever given much thought to it...
I'd carried a piece of a computer with me for over a year and had never even realized.
Eagerly, apprehensively, I fit the teeth of the little key into the slots on the front of Mr Frog's computer and caught my breath as they slid into place perfectly.
"Hello, and welcome," spoke a voice. I stood suddenly, my heart pounding, my eyes widening as I saw a human face clearly visible on the desktop. As I came into view, it seemed to turn its eyes and look straight at me, though it was only a flat picture.
"Damn it, what have you done?" groaned an exasperated Mr Frog, putting down his flasks and starting towards me. "You just sat down, and you've already found a way to create complications, have you?"
The computer spoke again. "Voice pattern of 'Mr Frog' recognized. Retrieving data... You have no new AI Messages."
I looked at Mr Frog and back to the desk, then back again. "I..." I stuttered, "I just... I didn't know, I thought... I just -"
The scientist noticed the key inserted in the front of the machine, and abruptly slowed to a halt. "An Identity Drive..." he spoke slowly, tilting his head as he gave me a puzzled look. "How did you manage to come across one of those? I only ever had one of them, and I lost it five years ago..." While he spoke this last, his eyes widened gradually as realization began to spread across his face. He hurried past me to the desk, tapping the glowing screen in several places. Then, in a clear voice, "Disclose message content, non-administrative users."
"Message One; User ‘Talvi Diamondknight’; Recipient ‘Splint’; Subject ‘Joseph’" rang the strange voice, echoing slightly against the stone walls of the room. It sounded artificial somehow.
Mr Frog turned to me with an expression of astonishment. "You've kept this for how long?"
"Over a year..." I whispered, worried he might burst out angrily at any moment.
He only shook his head slowly, his gaze idling away from me. "Every record I have of this 'Joseph' is gone - I did a search while you were rescuing your friends... All I can assume is that whoever he is, he managed to wipe everything I had on him clean..." He turned back, his eyes sparkling with the eager delight of a scientist making a breakthrough, an intruding smile breaking across his typically neutral facade. "And you managed to keep one piece, one potentially important piece... You kept it safe. But this is wonderful!" The smile faded as he turned back to the desk, but the sparkle in his eyes remained. "Open message one, deactivate voice identity recognition, override user privileges," he commanded the computer, leaning over the display.
The face disappeared, replaced with another: that of my old friend, Talvi.
"Splint, is that you?" Talvi asked hesitantly, looking forwards blankly.
"Yes it is," Mr Frog responded. "What do you need to tell me, Talvi?" He turned to me briefly and whispered as an aside, "This computer isn't equipped with a camera," as if it explained everything.
"Well, Splint," Talvi continued in her familiar accent, "I've been wantin' to tell ya' for...
Ever so long, now... There's somebody real scary-like tryin’ t’ mess stuffs up – I jus’ thought you oughta know... He said he's gonna try t’destroy the fortress."
"All right, Talvi," Mr Frog said calmly. "Who is it?"
"Well, I don' rightly know his last name, but his first one is 'Joseph'... You do believe me, don't you, Mr. Splint? I know it's not somethin' you'd be all likely to believe and such, but I don' want my cavies killed anymore'n you want Spearbreakers to fall..." The image of her face flickered briefly, as if she had looked to the side and back in a split second.
"I believe you, Talvi," he answered reassuringly. "Tell me everything you know about Joseph."
"Okay..." she began carefully. "I met Joseph a while back - he was in Mr Frog's room an' he wanted me to take him wit' me... So I did... But he's wanted me t'
do things, Mr. Splint - things I rightly know I oughtn't should! He was my friend at first, talkin' to me and tellin' me things that were goin' on outside... He said he had eyes everywhere."
I glanced at Mr Frog briefly, wondering again what exactly that phrase meant.
Talvi's face flickered a few more times and continued. "It did
seem like he could see ever'thing an' all, but after a tad I found out there was a lot of places he couldn' see none. But then he wanted me to steal stuff from Mr Frog's room, and he told me how much Mr Frog cared about me and how Mr Frog wanted to be with me and how much Mr Frog thought I was purty an’ such..."
Mr Frog gave a snort of something vaguely akin to laughter.
"But none of it were true! Mr Frog don't love me none, sure's anything. He hit me a few weeks back, even, so I knows he ain't all Joseph said he were... but anyhow... He wanted me to steal stuff from Mr Frog's room, an’ he wanted to know about our ‘security’ and how many cameras Mr Frog had up. I know Mr Frog has cameras up an' all, but I don' know how many, and I weren't gonna tell Joseph nohow..."
"What's a camera?" I interrupted quietly, stepping closer to Mr Frog.
He appeared as if he was about to answer, but Talvi answered for him. "They're a lil magic thing you kin look through t' see anything you want without e'en havin' to be there. I thought you might ask, Splint. It helps Mr Frog know all that's goin' on, an’ he
does have them everywhere, not like Joseph."
Mr Frog glared at me, grumbling under his breath that I shouldn't speak.
"Anyhow," Talvi's image continued, her posture shifting in an instant, "Joseph got mean when he figur'd out I weren't gonna help him. He started threat'nin' to destroy th' whole fortress, and kill my cavies if I didn' help. He said we weren't of any importance rather than location, or somethin'... And then he said -"
"Talvi..." Mr Frog said, interrupting her.
Her image flickered again and she stopped mid-word. "Splint?"
"Do you know who Joseph works for? Or who he is?"
She shook her head. "I ain't even all too sure he's e'en a person. I think he might'n be jus' like Mr Frog's messages on this little key, an' just a picture that talks to you. Mr Frog's messages don't do anything but yell at me to give 'is stuff back, though."
Mr Frog chuckled, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "But who does he work for?"
"He don't work for nobody," Talvi said, her image disappearing for a second. "He says he's got a place called 'Eris', thass all I know ‘bout that. I's got a friend who he once said looks like somebody at another fortress: 'Ballpoint'... Is V there, Mr. Splint?"
Glancing at me curiously, Mr Frog answered her, "Yes she is, Talvi - why do you ask?"
"Joseph saw V once, he did, an' he wanted to know who she were. He wouldn' talk to me much o’ none after that... But he did say she looks jus' like somebody o'er there that works for 'im. A 'mole' he said, but I'll tell you sure as a splinter's needle cain't sew cloth outta mushrooms, I's seen her myself, and she don't look a thing like moles. Too big, anyhow, but she does look a lot like V..."
Mr Frog remained silent for a moment, and the only sound in the room was the computer's soft hum and the occasional static sound of Talvi's flickering image. "Can you show me what Joseph looks like?"
Talvi disappeared, replaced with a still image of the man I'd come to fear more than even Mr Frog himself: Joseph.
"That's him," I whispered, taking a step closer and pointing. "That's Joseph - Talvi's right. You used to talk to him. I actually saw you make a deal with him. He said he wanted the promise of a favor in exchange for the amnesiac that I injected into Talvi."
"Did he now..." Mr Frog mused. "Interesting... Talvi, do you have a picture of V?"
"I took one once," Talvi replied as Joseph's picture disappeared, only to be replaced with one of myself, wearing the old, ragged hat I wore before I found my beanie. I was shocked that she had a picture of me. I could even see the bottom of my ear in it, it was so clear.
"Excellent," said Mr Frog. "Do you have a picture of the mole?"
My face disappeared from the glowing display, and Talvi's resumed its original position. "I have a little bit of one." Talvi's face disappeared and the face of Carena appeared on the screen, blurry and hard to see. The viewpoint was from inside the little cavy tunnel. I hadn't noticed it before, but Carena's face
did look unnervingly similar to mine. It looked so close that I couldn't help but think that it might almost be more than just a coincidence.
"Did Joseph ever tell you where Eris is located?"
"I know more, but I'll have t'tell you in person."
Mr Frog furrowed his brow momentarily. "Do you know if Joseph ever came to Spearbreakers?"
"I know more, but I'll have t'tell you in person," she repeated with the same intonations. Mr Frog only grimaced.
"Has the mole ever visited Spearbreakers?" he asked.
Talvi nodded in response. "Yes."
"Has the mole ever been to Eris?"
"I know more, but I'll have t'tell you in person," Talvi's flickering image said once more.
Mr Frog stepped back from the desk and spoke quietly in disappointment. "That's about all we're going to get out of this file. I possibly shouldn’t have accepted that amnesiac as you say I did, she knew a lot of things I’d really like to know. It’s likely all gone now." Then, louder, "Computer, close message, exit program." Talvi's face disappeared abruptly, replaced with the text, "The Fundamentals of Real Life".
Beside me, Mr Frog scratched his beard thoughtfully. "It would appear," he stated slowly, "that you're already beginning to prove your worth as my employee..."
"Thank you," I whispered. "So you're not mad at me?"
He jumped as if startled out of his thoughts. "No, not at all, not at all. In fact, it would appear we're going to have to hasten your training. I'll need time to plan, but I think I'm going to be sending you to Ballpoint. You look so similar to Talvi's mole that you ought to be able to successfully impersonate her."
My eyes widened, partially in fear. "I'm going to Ballpoint
alone? I don't even know what it is!" I didn't want to be forced into spywork, as it seemed he wanted.
Mr Frog grunted and returned to his work over at the apparatus-covered tables. "It's a company. They're interdimensional time travelers, just like Parasol. Their technology development level is advanced beyond anything you dwarves – or elves, rather – currently possess." Saying this, he finished stirring a flask and brought it over to me, picking up a book from another table on his way. "I'll need you to drink this - perhaps we can uncover some more of your lost memories with it.”
"Will it be bitter?" I asked cautiously, taking it in my hands.
He scoffed, "Bitter? Does taste really matter so much to you?"
I hesitated for a moment and nodded, frowning a little bit as he glared at me derisively.
"Hrmph... fine," he said finally, handing me the book and taking the flask back.
I looked it over in my hands, turning it and gently opening its parchment pages to look within. It was a beautiful journal with a leather-bound hard cover - and in the center of the front cover was a golden outline of a five-pointed star. I tilted it, catching the torchlight and sending a reflection dancing across the room. I smiled brightly with pleasure - it was the first gift I'd received in years, it was gorgeous, and best of all, it was
all mine.
"I had it made for you earlier, express order," Mr Frog explained as he returned with a tall glass. "I figured you were going to need something a little better than that blood-spattered thing you've been using, and I have your original one here somewhere... But here you are. Drink this; you may find it more to your taste."
I switched the book to my left hand and took the glass, drinking it carefully. It tasted of roses and sweet-scented petals, as if he had somehow collected fields upon fields of wildflowers and somehow put them all into a little glass. I'd never heard of such a thing being done before; it was unusual, but delicious all the same.
"How did you do that?" I gasped once I had finished, wishing there had been a little more, and that I hadn't drank it so quickly.
"How did I do what?" he asked unconcernedly as he took the glass from my grasp and walked away. "But it doesn't matter. I'll provide you with better apparel in the morning. In the meantime, you'd best get some sleep, Vanya." He pushed a button on a column. I jumped back in surprise as the shale wall to my right seemed to split and pull away from itself, revealing a doorway through which I could see a little wooden bed.
I was going to have my own room. I almost cried in happiness, clapping my hands to my mouth - Mr Frog may have been evil in nature, taking skulkers from their homes and performing experiments on them, but his show of hospitality far outmatched that of Fischer. A real journal, a room, a bed and new clothes were luxuries I’d only dreamed of the past eight years.
"I hope you don't mind the fact that the bed is made of wood," he smirked, wiping out the glass I'd used with a cloth and starting on the others he’d used. "It's my guest room, and usually, my guests don't mind."
"Not at all," I breathed in wonderment, putting one foot ahead of the other as I seemed to glide forwards almost in a dream. "It's perfect..."
I sat down on the edge of the fur matress, testing it gently, and finally threw myself onto it with a little laugh of joy, feeling myself sink into the soft folds. It felt wonderful compared to sleeping in the hallways with a ragged blanket, and especially compared to the cold stone of a shelf in a makeshift prison cell.
That night, I smiled myself to sleep, tucked cozily in a warm bed for the first time since I was twelve. The terrors and tragedies of the day were all but forgotten, though in my dreams I thought I saw the face of Urist...
He was crying.
☆
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Topic: [34.11] Spearbreakers - It shudders and begins to move (Read 2279782 times)