Crime Doesn't Pay

Norman looks at his watch. The average person looking at this
peculiar thing on his wrist would see an odd-looking bracelet with a very
interesting gem.
"What time is it?" asks Thomas, as if he didn't know.
"Five thirty two day time. The sun should be coming up in thirty one
minutes."
Both Norman and Thomas figure there isn't any human within a thousand
miles of their campsite. But that conclusion is meaningless to them.
The important thing to them right now is just to stay alive.
Alive not for the next thirty days, but for the next thirty minutes.

"I told you not to do it!" exclaims Thomas. "Aryer is going to be
VERY upset with you."
"What do I care what ARYER thinks?" Norman says in his usual
sarcastic tone.
"What do you CARE? Do you CARE about LIVING?"
"Look, Thomas, you're getting all twisted up over nothing. He's
searching over every sector of this continent right now, and soon he'll
be here. So what? All we have to do is put up a Full Mask, and he won't
be able to find us."
"Norman! THINK... If that-that-that contraption
contains what you say it contains, then even an Improved Full Mask
wouldn't stop him! Or didn't you know that Improved Map is three
magnitudes HIGHER than Full Mask?"
"Of course I knew that! Here... Let's take a look." Norman pulls
out a calculator-sized and shaped object with a large LCD screen.
He pushes a button and the screen fills with, to the common observer, a
written language that appears to be the footprints of small flightless
birds. Norman repeatedly pushes a second button which scrolls the screen
to the next page of gunk.
"Here it is. Map."
Thomas interjects, "You mean IMPROVED Map."
"I was hoping you wouldn't notice." Norman is speaking to someone
ten years his elder in their field.
"Wait." When Thomas says this, Norman stops.
"What?" whispers Norman.
After ten seconds, Thomas whispers back, "I'm detecting Motion
Detectors."
"Magic or Technology?"
"Tech. High quality."
"What range? What sensitivity?" Norman pushes the 'off' button VERY
slowly to protect against Energy Detectors.
"Range: Six thousand kilometers. Mass: Human plus equipment," Thomas
breaths a slight sigh of relief, because they have no equipment.
Thomas Looks up. "I can't see it."
Norman turns on the devise again, and continues, now at full volume.
"Okay. Here it is. Improved Map. Six hundred and twenty five Standard
Pages. Our biggest competitor is one hundred and forty four Standard's.
Quite a bit more than three magnitudes higher."
"You know, Norman, that he's going to be back with something a little
more effective than Motion Detectors. Like... Magic Detectors?"
"Why are you treating my like a baby? I know his capabilities. But
WE have the upper hand. He doesn't know about the new spell research."
"You're taking that for granted. How do you know he can't detect
this DETECT?"
"If he could, he would. We wouldn't be standing here arguing about
it. He would have seen it on the last pass. I predict we have one more
false alarm until we get hit with a Magic Detection."
"What makes you say that?"
Norman sits for a moment, because he hadn't thought of a reason, it
was just his gut feeling, "Because. Magic Detection is the most difficult
thing for a tech detector to be set for. You need a high quality group
of engineers, as well as a LOAD of power."
Thomas is not reassured, "Well, you're not an authority on Aryer, so
I think we should get moving toward those mountains." Thomas points at
some hills that grow into a very ragged mountain range."
"Okay. You got it." Between Norman and Thomas, there really isn't
any 'leader', but Thomas is more powerful than Norman, and generally gets
the last word. ('Generally' is the important word in that sentence.)
The mountains are covered by snow only at the tips. Norman and
Thomas can see this, but many people wouldn't see the mountains at all
due to darkness. The two are in a plain with tall grass, so with a quick
two-minute jog, they are at the base of the hills. Five more minutes
brings them to a sharp incline, and three more brings them to an opening.
"Wait," Toinse says, and Norman complies. "MAGIC DETECTION!"
They look at each other for a moment, then run down into the opening
at full speed. Their ability to see in very little light doesn't give
them vision in NO light. Thomas thinks that they could use something
bright at this moment, when they both run into a wall. After getting up,
Toinse brightens the cave with a wave of his hand. They're at a dead end.
"Good choice, Thomas. Making sure we had a way out was superb
thinking on your part."
"SHUT UP!" Thomas's voice echoes throughout the forty foot tunnel.
"Let's get out of here, or it'll be our casket!"
They jog back up to the surface, and look out into a clear sky. They
are facing east, and they estimate the sun's appearance in slightly over
twenty minutes. The sky is beginning to show shades of dark blue. They
look up, and see a colorful sparkle. The sparkle grows into a small
object with lights on it. Norman and Thomas begin to hear a rumble. In
seconds this object can be identified as some sort of vehicle. Perhaps
an airplane. The rumble grows to vibrations in their feet. Norman and
Thomas raise their hands and point their fingers at, what is now obviously
an airship class D. (D-class airships are about fifty meters across,
and ten meters high. It has only military use. There are no 'science'
aspects of the craft.)
Norman keeps his eye trained only on the ship and says, "Not Ruby
Finger."
"What, do you think I'm stupid? Don't answer that."
White, shimmering light shoots out of Norman's finger, and a similar
blast is followed by Thomas. They hit the ship in vital areas. (Norman
and Thomas used to be in the tech military.)
"SIR, main weapons control has been damaged!"
"OVERRIDE! Vingk, get down to engineering, and make a crosspatch"
"YES, sir!"
"SIR, main boosters are out, maneuvering jets still operable!"
Aryer pushes a button, "Engineering, Bridge, VINGK, we've just lost
our main boosters. How does it look?"
"Have them up in moments, sir. Minor control problem. Cross-
patching now, sir!"
"FIRE AT TARGET!!"
Just as Aryer says that, Norman and Thomas each hit the craft with a
Blast spell. A huge blue sphere comes out of the gun-ship and, because of
the spells, hits the rock just above their heads. An explosion knocks
Norman and Thomas down the side of the hill and they roll to the bottom.
"SIR, damage to the hull! Number three plating! FUEL LEAKAGE!"
Aryer takes action quickly. "Helm, come to course two-six-four!"
"Two-six-four, aye!"
"Emergency descend to ground level, prepare to abandon ship!"
Over the loudspeaker blares, "All hands, prepare to abandon ship!"
The ship limps down the slope, with a gash in it's bottom that's
leaking a very explosive steam.
Norman and Thomas get up and watch Aryer's gun-ship land and
evacuate. They use Invisibility, and Full Mask spells and begin to
approach the crippled battleship.
The standard operating procedure for a gun-ship evacuation is for the
men to gather as many personal weapons as possible, for they may be down
behind enemy lines. In effect, they are.
Aryer begins barking orders to Vingk. "I want a perimeter of Ion
Rifles at a distance of five hundred meters from the ship. Make a semi-
circle to the west. Our advisory is at the base of the mountains. I
don't want anything to get through! Set all weapons to cone pattern.
Don't worry about Invisibility Detection, I'll take care of that!"
Norman and Thomas see what's happening in a general sense, and
since ANY direction they go will be bad, they begin to get ready by
casting Energy Absorption spells on themselves, casting Silence, Prevent
ESP, Improved Heat Shield (to prevent Infrared Detection), just about
every protection spell they can think of. Once finished, they run as fast
as possible toward their enemy.
"I don't see anything, sir," one gunman says to Aryer, who looks
through what appears to be a complex pair of binoculars.
"Shut up, stupid. I'm looking. You just get ready to set your
marks."
"Yes, SIR!"
"DAMN! These things aren't worth a Credit!" Aryer throws down the
viewers, hopelessly destroying them. He pulls out a glass ball and puts
it to his eye. "VINGK! Call the north and south men to form a straight
line facing west. I have our target spotted."
The two approaching men see some changes in the formation that lies
about three hundred meters away. "Not Ruby Finger," again comments
Norman.
"I have something better," returns Thomas with a frantic wave of his
arms, and a Psychic Disturbance spell takes effect. This spell, used
mostly of evil wizards of many years ago, calls from, what some mystics
call 'The Underworld', many spirits, or ghosts. The number is random,
depending on the number who want to show up, but this spell has become
much more effective now that the leaders of this once feared place have
signed an allied treaty with Logan, the leader of all Magic. The news
that 'ghosts' are nothing to be feared has been carefully kept from the
ears of ninety nine percent of the Tech military.
"Brilliant, Thomas, brilliant!"
"DAMN!! ALL GUNMEN, REDUCE TO BEAM PATTERN, and FIRE AT ANY TARGET!
Aryer looks through his ball again and sees the two approaching quickly.
"Here," Aryer says to two gunmen as he touches them on their shoulders
simultaneously, "Let me give you a REAL weapon." Aryer reaches into a bag
the size of a cantaloupe, and pulls out two Ion Cannons. About two meters
high, and four meters long. The men know exactly how to use them. By
this time, ten men have taken their rifles and run, and another ten have
just RUN.
Vingk approaches Aryer, "Sir, the men are running from the ghosts,
sir."
"Let them run, the feebleminded Tech-heads. They'll die in a matter
of days here, and if they don't we'll finish them off. BUT, our FIRST
priority in NORMAN. He must be killed. Thomas we can capture to torture
slowly." Aryer laughs to himself while imagining that very scene.
The men by now have crawled into the Ion Cannon controls. "What
range, sir?"
Aryer composes himself, and looks through his crystal-like ball
again, "RANGE: Two, two, seven. BEARING: Zero, eight, eight. FIRE!"
"Yieo!" Norman exclaims seeing two white balls of energy bearing
down on them. They dive into the tall grass, but it does no good. The
downward angle of the Ion missiles hit their target with a devastating
blast that chars the ground within twenty meters. The cannons are
designed to be used in ship-to-ship combat, and are too large to be
mounted on Aryer's craft!
"DIRECT HIT, sir!"
Aryer yells at his opponent, "How does THAT feel, Normie?? HA!"
"We've got to cross his gunners," says Thomas.
"Or at least prevent Aryer from giving readings. I HATE it when he
calls me that!"
"Prepare to fire again on my signal."
"Cannon charging, sir."
"Cannon charging, sir."
"Ready, Thomas?"
"Ready... Normie," Thomas says with a smile.
"Don't start. NOW!"
"Gunners, their moving! When will you be ready?"
"Cannon charged, sir."
"Cannon charged, sir."
"RANGE: One, seven, three. BEARING: Zero, nine... CORRECTION,
bearing zero eight zero, CORRECTION, bearing one zero, CORRECTION, DAMN!"
Aryer puts his glass away, then pulls a gunman off a cannon, and screams,
"VINGK, get on that one and follow."
Vingk complies, and copies what his boss did by casting a Zero
Gravity spell on his cannon. With Force spells (a minor version of the
Blast spell) one can control the cannon's location in the air with great
precision. However, it isn't the easiest thing in the world to do while
aiming an Ion Cannon, recharging it, following a target, setting the
firing controls, aiming again, and firing. Especially when the target
keeps moving.
"Fire when you have a target, Vingk," Aryer orders calmly.
"Yes, sir. I HAVE A TARGET!"
"AAgh!!" Norman and Thomas are knocked to the ground.
"THANK you, Vingk, now it's my turn!"
The ghosts are trying feebly to scare Aryer, or even distract him.
Aryer hits his target with fierce accuracy.
"We're getting clobbered down here, Norman. I say we get out of here
while we're alive!"
"He'll be able to trace a Transport spell with NO problem!"
"I know. But I've got an idea! Grab hold."
Norman does so, and with that, they are gone into thin air.
Aryer notices their disappearance, "They TRANSPORTED! The wimps!
VINGK, let's go NOW!"
"I can't, sir! I have to land first!"
Aryer and Vingk quickly land their cannons and disappear after the
others leaving his hired ship and men to fend for themselves in the baron
wilderness with nothing but a damaged craft that has no fuel.
Aryer, following his trace of the Transport spell, appears in the
middle of the street. "Where are they? VINGK? Where ARE they!?"
"C'mon, Ar, quit fooling yourself. What makes you think they're so
stupid as to stay here? Do you detect another Transport spell?"
Aryer pauses a moment, "No."
"Why don't you quit whining, then?" Vingk says defiantly.
"What did you say to me?"
"Look, I'm not interested in arguing with you, but you seem to be
preoccupied with these useless people. Why do you care about Norman? I
don't think I've ever seen you this upset over a mere Demi-Lord."
"He stole my spell computer."
Vignk gives Aryer a confused look, "Have you forgotten them all?"
Aryer glares back, "Of COURSE not! This is NOT your concern, Vingk.
You just do as I say, and perhaps I will lengthen your life by a day."
Aryer goes to the sidewalk, then begins walking toward the City Hall.
Vingk follows.
Thomas breaths a sigh of relief as he watches the two Immortals walk
away from them. Thomas was listening to their conversation in the street
from inside an abandoned warehouse (Thomas has quite excellent hearing.)
"Now, Norman. What was that you were saying? 'All we have to do is put
up a full mask, and he won't be able to find us'? What's wrong with you,
Norman? You know Aryer better than that. You almost got us both killed!"
"Take it easy, Thomas. Are we dead? Do I still have this spell
thingy? Speaking of spells, I heard that some of these things can hold
up to one hundred thousand standard pages in them. Can you imagine?"
Thomas has other concerns, "No, I can't."
"Hmm. If Aryer has any decent training as a wizard, he should have
put his most powerful spells in the back." Norman pulls out the spell
computer. "Hey, Thomas, look at this. It has a auto-memory. It shows
a specific spell when you turn it on. Here's a spell counter. It reads,
four hundred and eighteen. Quite impressive. I wonder what his first
spell was." Norman holds down the back-search button until the screen
stops changing.
"Who cares what his first spell was? He's one of the most evil
persons I know. He has a warped idea of adventure, and an equally twisted
idea of life in general."
"Here it is, Thomas."
"Let me guess. It's the spell Ejaculate. He casts it on himself."
Norman doesn't acknowledge Thomas's joke. He looks into the computer
with a look of utter shock on his face. "Take a look at this, Thomas."
Thomas knows Norman wouldn't let a joke like that one go by. It must
be very serious. "What?"
Norman looks up, "Our little friend Aryer has been making some plans
and keeping a brief record of them in here." Norman taps the computer
twice. "And do you know who he's been talking to?"
"Don't play games, Norman, what's going on?"
"Aryer has had a personal audience with Borone."
"Borone? You mean the brother of Logan and Kroman?"
"Here," Norman hands the computer to Thomas, "See for yourself."
Thomas glances at the screen, "Borone makes demon-evil look like
child's play! What's this here? It says Borone will use his power to
assemble all of the Technology Army and make one final sweeping blow to
end the Magic/Technology war. That's really rude, using magic against the
powers of magic."
"Rude? You have a way with understatements, Thomas. We have to stop
him."
"Stop him. Aryer. Okay, Norman, let's say we manage to kill Aryer
and his little sidekick Vingk. I'll grant you that, oh, one-in-ten-
thousand chance. What do you think our chances are against Borone, who,
conservatively speaking, is fifty million times more powerful than us.
You can't even CONCEIVE of that kind of power any more than you can
remember what it was like being mortal."
"Oh, yea, right. I NEVER said we should go after him OURSELVES.
But it DOES seem clear to me that we should notify certain key persons."
"You are speaking of the inimitable Logan."
"Actually, I was thinking of Kroman."
"Kroman? He's been the head of the Party of Deciders for years, and
will not lower himself to petty political dealings."
Norman is alarmed, "PETTY? Do you call the massacre of TRILLIONS of
lives on thousands of planets PETTY?"
There is silence between the two, and for the first time since Vingk
and Aryer walked off they can hear the low rumble that is the 'silence'
of any technological city. A major street is outside the warehouse, which
is a white noise of various vehicle's drive systems. Once every thirty
seconds, a deep rumble can be felt as a large transport ship takes off.
(For expensive 'One Hundred Hour' packages, some delivery firms forgo the
VTOL space-planes and do it the old-fashioned way; one big push.)
The periodic launches gets Thomas thinking, "What's the range on
Aryer's Transport Detection?"
"Well, considering his experience with that spell, I'd say about
twenty thousand kilometers."
"Norman, I know you're right about this, and I've come up with a plan
to get us out of here, and away from Aryer."
"I don't have to remind you, Toinse, that one Transport spell will
set off at least a dozen alarms in Aryer's head."
"I said I have a plan. You're always right about what we should and
should not do, but you know as well as I do that you should leave the
logistics to me."
"Okay, okay! What's the plan, 'Stan'?"
"Follow me."
Aryer and Vingk walk into City Hall. "VINGK, stay with me."
"I'm here, Ar."
Aryer steps up to an Information desk and speaks to the man behind
it. "Excuse me, but there is a Magic Detection Grid over this city, isn't
there?"
"Yes there is. Why?"
Aryer gets upset whenever someone tries to ask nosey questions, "Hey,
pal. Do I have to answer your stupid questions? Who the hell are YOU?
YOU'RE the information guy, NOT ME, so SHUT UP and answer MY questions.
You're mother's an UGLY PIG, did you know that?"
A holding a toddler is behind Aryer in line, "You know, he's only
doing is job, you don't have to abuse him like that."
Aryer looks at the kid holding what looks like a lollipop. Aryer
takes it from the child, and crushes it under his foot. The lady is
shocked, not to mention the child. She storms off and gives the baby
another candy.
Aryer turns back to the clerk, "Now, I want you to print out a sheet
of all the magic activity in the last hour in this city."
"Y-Y-Yes, sir." The information guy feebly pushes buttons on a
keyboard, and a printer spews out a listing of every spell cast in the
city withing the last hour. It also includes the name of the spell, the
location at which it was cast, and the time. They walk out of City Hall
inspecting it. (Technological cities have that advantage over Magic:
Through constant detection, they can tell when a Wizard transports in to
do damage to vital areas of the city, or for whatever reason. Every
possibility must be accounted for. They are at war.)
"Look, Aryer, here's their Transport, here's our Detection, then our
Transport, then our next Detection. It's all right here. There's even
a column for the dispatch of Local, Federal, or Planetary Guard. Look at
this..."
Aryer interrupts him, "I KNOW, I KNOW, I read the thing too, stupid.
It says they dispatched Planetary Guard. Didn't you know that it's
standard policy to dispatch the PG whenever there's an incoming
Transport spell?"
"Why don't you just cast a Find Lost Object?"
"SHHH! Keep your voice down, idiot. If I did that, they would know
that I'm a spell caster, and I have a residence, money, and even some
political power here. You know how hard it is for me to gain that kind of
stuff. I don't want to blow it!"
"Sorry. What's next?"
"Well, they'll probably want to get out of here without casting a
Transport, knowing that I'd detect it right away. I have an idea. Let's
go back to the place we were, and see if the PG have arrived. There's a
One Hundred Hour Package delivery launch station about a mile from there,
and that's probably where they went."
"C'mon, Thomas, what's milling around in that head of your's?"
Norman by this time has figured out they're going in one of those big
rocket ships, but HOW?
"A-ha! You wouldn't want me to TELL you the ending, now would you?"
remarks Thomas with a smile.
"You know, you infuriate me sometimes," Norman says, also with a
smile. Norman gets a bit more serious, "Please tell me what your plan is.
If I don't know what to do when the time comes..."
Thomas reminds his friend, "How many years have we been together?
Seventy? Eighty?"
"Eighty two years, four and a half months."
"Ug. Anyway, how many times have I came up with a plan, and not told
you, but things worked out for the best anyway?"
"Oh, at least thirty thousand times."
"Gee, that's an estimation if ever I've seen one."
"No, not quite an estimation," Norman corrects, "actually there have
been thirty thousand and eighty seven days in the time I gave you. I
figured you've made a plan on average once per day."
"WHY do you always have to be so EXACT?"
"I just like calculating things! Is that a CRIME?"
"Sorry, Norman. How did you arrive at that?"
"Well, eighty two times three hundred sixty five point two five days
per year plus four point five months times an average thirty point five
days in a month."
"But there aren't exactly thirty point five days in the average
month."
"I know. I did that calculation, too. but when you use that figure
in place of the thirty point five, you get a difference of six hours and
forty five minutes. Over eighty two years, that doesn't make much
difference."
"Oh. Thank you for simplifying it for me."
"Sure, Thomas. But you're avoiding the question."
"And that was?"
"What's the plan?"
"We're going to steal a ship."
"Okay."
The two look at each other, and laugh out loud. They are enjoying
their very old friendship as much as when they first met. They're not
bothered in the slightest bit by the fact that they're being hunted by two
evil people who are each one hundred times more powerful than they are.
Aryer and Vingk approach the area already secured by the Planetary
Guard. Aryer shows a guard his identification, and he and his assistant
Vingk are let in. The Commander of this investigation approaches an I.D.
toting Aryer.
"I'm Commander Williams of the ESC. Who the hell are you?"
Aryer looks at him with contempt, "Who the hell am I? I'll have you
know that I'm Statesman Aryer."
Commander Williams could care less. "Well, Statesman, we're really
busy here, so if you don't mind..." Williams points the way out.
"Oh, but I DO mind, Commander. I want to know what's going on here."
"What does a Statesman care about a routine magic investigation?"
"Oh, but it's NOT routine. A Transport spell, then a Detect, then
another Transport spell, then another detect? What does that tell you,
Commander?"
"Not much. Except that there's definitely two Wizards."
"OF COURSE there's two Wizards! How DID you get to be a Commander?
Did you win your diploma shooting DICE? Boy, you're stupid! Not only
that, you're RELIEVED! GO HOME!"
"You can't relieve me. You're just a Statesman!"
Aryer whispers, "Oh, yeah?" as he uses his right hand to take a
revolver out of his bag handle first, as if he were to hand it to someone.
Williams looks puzzled as Aryer grabs the Commander's right hand and
puts the gun into it. Aryer easily forces Williams to shoot himself in
the chest. His victim falls back, still with the gun in his hand.
"AAAAGH!! He tried to KILL me! I relieved him, and he went crazy!
I tried to get the gun out of his hands, and it went off! How TERRIBLE!"
Five Secondaries rush up to inspect the situation. Two Tertiaries
approach to assist. One of the men says, "I always thought the boss was
off his rocker."
Aryer continues the act, "Oh, God. This is disgusting! I've never
seen a dead body before. Please, take it away!" He walks away and looks
at Vingk who is giving him an absolutely straight face.
One of the Secondaries says to Aryer, "What do we do now, sir?"
"Oh, yes, I guess I'm in charge. Well, uh... Oh, it's hard to
think. Okay. My guess is that the two Wizards are trying to escape
without using spells so they aren't detected. Probably by stealing a ship
from over there." Aryer points to the launching pad where ships are still
flying twice a minute. "I need you to get four Class-A Destroyers, so we
can catch them."
"Four Class-A Destroyers. Aye, sir." The messenger runs off with a
wild look. He didn't even know four Class-A existed. (Class-A ships have
six Ion-Cannons mounted on each face of the craft. Top, bottom, forward,
aft, port, and starboard making thirty six cannons. This says nothing of
the Pulse-Laser Automatic Cannons, or projectile weapons. They also have
very special confidential drive systems.)
Norman looks at Thomas as they approach the entrance to the delivery
company, "We shouldn't use spells here, should we?"
"I don't think it would be wise. They probably have Magic Detector
Nets over the city. They probably know we're here already."
"Can we use magic weapons?"
"Sure, Norman, but NO spells."
They walk into Interplanetary Unlimited and approach the desk.
Thomas eyes a second door.
The lady behind the desk looks up at them as she hits a button on a
keyboard that clears the screen of a monitor. "Can I help you?"
Norman does the talking. "Yes. We have an appointment."
"With who?"
Norman looks down at a repair invoice laying on the desk and notices
a box for the supervisor's name, "With, uh, Earl."
"You mean Supervisor Van Earl?"
"Yes! I couldn't remember his first name."
"HER first name."
Norman appears confused, "She sounded very male over the phone."
She hits a few buttons on the keyboard. While looking toward the
monitor, and away from the Wizards she asks, "Your names?"
Norman looks over her shoulders and reads characters that would be
to small to read for normal people. "We represent Hoffman Superconductors
on this planet. Sorry for being so early."
"I'll see if she's ready for you. Have a seat."
The two sit. The lady leaves outside the second door, and through
it they both see a hallway and a window out to the repairs area. Beyond
the hangars, they see large vertical rockets poised for launch, and every
thirty seconds one takes off with a brilliant flash of light. The room
they are in is soundproof. The lady returns with two helmets that have
microphones connected to them, and two pairs of gloves.
"Here. Wear these at all times. The helmets protect your head in
the work station, and they have hearing protectors built in. The
microphone is activated when you talk, and can be tuned to a channel by
saying the words 'channel tune number', then the frequency. The gloves
are for security, and will unlock any door to an area you have access to.
They have magnetic strips that the handles can read when you grab them.
The men put on the helmets and gloves, and walk into the hallway,
then through a third door. There is someone waiting for them. He raises
his hand palm outward and extends five fingers. He retracts them, turns
his hand around palm inward and extends all five again. The stranger
yet again faces his palm to the visitors and extends his fingers. Norman
and Thomas, after some thinking, speak into their microphones, "Channel
tune number five, five, five."
"Thank you, sirs. I will take you to Supervisor Earl."
"Thank you," Norman says as they climb into the cart.
Aryer enters Interplanetary Unlimited with Vingk, and says, "I'm
Statesman Aryer. I'm looking for two fugitive Wizards." He describes
Norman and Thomas perfectly.
"Wizards? I'm sorry, but the two you just described had an
appointment to see Supervisor Earl. You must be mistaken."
"WAKE UP, dummy! They took you for a fool! If you don't let me out
there right now, I'll have the IEI in here with a fine tooth comb and
you'll be KILLED for the crime of AIDING the escape of a KNOWN FELON!"
"I'm calling the police!" The lady picks up the phone.
Aryer tears the phone out of the wall. In shock, the lady rolls back
her chair, and pulls a derringer out of her purse and points it at him.
A short balding man walks in from the street and is surprised by the
situation.
Aryer, not concerned about the gun, looks at him as asks, "Who are
you?"
"Uh... My name is... R-Rostin. I'm from Hoffman Superconductors."
Aryer looks exasperated, "And you have an appointment with Supervisor
Earl."
"Yes. How did you know?"
Aryer looks back at the lady with an expression of 'you stupid
idiot,' and straightens his posture. "You're a dead woman."
She loses the color in her face as she hands him a pair of gloves.
Norman and Thomas get off the cart and approach an attractive woman
with overalls and dirt smudges on her face. She gives them the signal to
tune to five, four, one. They do so.
"Glad to see you guys, but I must admit, I expected a short guy."
Norman continues the talking, "That's okay. Let's get down to
business. What seems to be the problem?"
"Nothing. Were you informed of one?"
"Well...
Vannessa interrupts Norman, "There is no problem, we just wanted you
to activate the coolant. Where's your gear?"
Thomas says authoritatively, "I'm sorry, Van, but that wasn't our
assignment."
"What is?"
Thomas scans the prep area for a good looking ship. "We are supposed
to test the Superconductor installation into the piloting computers of
that ship over there." Thomas points to his choice."
"I'm sorry, but that's off-limits. You must be mistaken."
"No we're not mistaken. Norman, could you give me the roster?"
Norman pulls the first thing that comes to his mind out of the bag.
The spell computer.
Thomas takes it and pushes a couple of buttons on it. "Yep. It says
right here in black and white. Our orders are clear, ma'am." Thomas
hands the computer back to Norman, who puts it away.
Van watches Norman replace the computer in his bag. She notices
the fact that the computer is too big to fit, but it DOES. She thinks to
herself, "That thing must be magic! I'll give these lying Wizards a taste
of a bullet in the face!" Van says, "Okay, let met get the launch orders
on that ship."
She turns around, and walks toward the hangar. As they follow her,
Thomas takes off his helmet, and Norman does the same, "Norman, I think
she's on to us!"
"Yeah! She was looking straight at the bag when put that thing
away!"
"Okay. Be ready for anything. Get out your Quarter Staff."
They put their helmets back on, and by this time they've reached the
hangar. Without looking back, Van walks over to a large metal box that
says 'KEEP OUT' on it. She uses her glove to unlock the handle, reaches
in, and turns quickly around with a high-caliber handgun.
Norman hits her in the hand with his Quarter Staff, knocking the gun
far away, and breaking her hand at the same time.
"Damn. I didn't want to do that. Thomas?"
Thomas reaches into his own bag, and pulls out a small glass vial
that has a purple liquid in it. "Here, Van. Drink this."
"WHAT? So you can POISON me?"
Norman uses his calm, soothing voice, "Van, if we had wanted to kill
you, we wouldn't be offering you a drink worth a hundred thousand
credits."
Van reluctantly accepts the mixture and quickly downs it. She
notices that her formerly broken hand feels fine. Thomas takes back the
glass.
"Now, Van," Norman continues, "How do we get on board that ship?"
"Oh well, I guess you'd figure it out anyway. Just walk into the
prep tower, and take the elevator to the top floor. There should be a
walkway out to the ship."
"Thank you, Van. You deserve a raise," Norman comments as they step
into a truck that has some parts in the back. Thomas looks it over, and
sees that it's made from a company that he's familiar with. Thomas
starts it up and floors the foot-accelerator.
The cart that shuttles people from the front office to the repair
area or the prep towers meets Vingk, who's just been standing around, and
Aryer, who's been looking through his 'monocular' at the various prep
towers for his prey.
"Where did those two men go?" demands Aryer.
"HUH?" The driver is wearing a helmet, and Aryer is not.
"WHERE DID THOSE TWO MEN GO?"
"Uh, to Repair Hangar one."
"TAKE US THERE NOW!!"
The driver takes the cart up to sixty percent speed. The fastest
it can go under company regulation. Aryer hits him in the shoulder,
"FASTER!" The driver rubs his wound, and turns the dial up to eighty.
Aryer looks through his magic 'eye' and sees a truck en route to the prep
towers at high speed. A transport ship launches as Aryer tries to say,
"FOLLOW THAT TRUCK!" but the voice is lost in the four hundred decibel
roar of the rocket's engines. "I SAID GO FASTER!" Aryer yells as he turns
the speed dial up to one hundred.
"Hey, you can't do that! It's illegaaaaaaa...." The reason for the
driver's scream is because Aryer pushed him off the cart. Landing on solid
ground (the kind of solid you can launch a ship from) at a speed of one
hundred kilometers per hour leaves one a little miffed. The driver sits
up and tunes his helmet to Van Earl's favorite frequency; Five, four, one.
"Hey, you guys still tuned in?"
Norman looks around, "Who is this?"
"This is the driver that took you out there. Listen, there's a
couple of guys comin' after you on my cart at a hundred K an hour. Can
you do me a couple of favors?"
"Sure. If we have time."
"Firstly, you can triple his speed by pushing the button marked 'PD'.
Second, can you make him eat LAUNCH BREATH?"
"You have a deal, buddy! Thanks! Hit it, Thomas!"
Thomas pushes the button, and instantly the truck jumps to two
hundred kmph, with three hundred approaching fast.
The truck reaches prep tower one before the cart. Taking off their
helmets, Thomas and Norman run in. The first thing they come to is a
locker room. There's someone standing by a door across from them.
"I was told that you two are dangerous, and that I should stay out of
your way."
Norman says as they approach, "They told you well. Where does that
door lead?"
"It's an elevator."
"Move aside."
The man does so, and Thomas pushes a button on the wall marked with
an arrow pointed up. A moment later, the doors open. They walk in, the
doors close, and the elevator starts to rise.
"What do we do with these helmets, Thomas?"
"Put one in your bag, Norman. I'll put one in mine. Who knows when
we'll need them again."
The cart is still moving when Aryer jumps out of it, closely followed
by Vingk. They run into the tower to see a guy sitting down reading a
magazine.
"Who are you?"
Aryer gives him a VERY nasty look, "Where are the stairs?"
"Uh, over there." The man points to a door marked 'Stairs.'
The elevator doors open, and Thomas runs in front of Norman toward
the open door to a rocket ship. They climb in, sit down in the cockpit,
and secure the door.
Aryer reaches the top of the stairs, and tries to get into the
vehicle, but it's been locked for launch. Vingk picks up a a spare set of
headphones and hands them to Aryer.
"Norman? I know you can hear me Norman."
Thomas notices the sound coming out of two sets of headphones hanging
above them. Thomas puts one on, and Norman follows. Thomas confusingly
asks, "Who is this?"
"You know EXACTLY who this is. What I have to say doesn't concern
you."
"What concerns Norman concerns me."
Norman breaks in, "What do you want, Aryer?"
"Give me back my computer, and I will let you live."
"Yea, right, sure. And I'm Logan's second cousin."
"Look, Norman, all I have to do is destroy this ship, and you and
Thomas, AND that computer with it. You know by now I can't have that
thing running around loose in the universe."
"C'mon, Aryer. You know us better than that," Norman says, "I'm not
going to let you get away with what you plan. Logan and Kroman will have
something to say about it."
"You're signing your death warrant, Norman. You know that, don't
you? Norman? NORMAN?"
Norman and Thomas had removed their headphones. They clumsily start
warming up the ignition circuits. Doing so without clearance automatically
sets off multiple alarms all over the launch area. The man reading the
magazine downstairs hears this. Fearing for his life, he jumps into the
truck and speeds off. There can be heard announcements coming across the
PA system, "Warning: Transport ship ignition sequence started at Prep
Tower one. Please clear the area to one kilometer. Warning:..." The
message repeats.
Inside the ship, Norman views a countdown timer to fuel release.
"Hey, Thomas, do you think you can find the fuel release switch within,
oh, fifteen seconds?"
"Maybe."
"I think we'd better start looking."
Aryer storms down the stairs in fury. Vingk follows.
The fuel release countdown reaches zero, and the number readout
changes to show the word 'AUTO.' The two rookie pilots feel a rumble all
around them as the liquid hydrogen fuel is being fused into helium.
The PA system blares again, "Warning: Transport ship launch from Prep
Tower one in five, four, three, two..."
"UGHnh!" Norman and Thomas are crushed into their seats by the
twenty G force of the launch. Aryer and Vingk are standing at the bottom
of the wreckage that once was Prep Tower one.
Aryer looks up through the trail of water vapor left by the ship. "I'm
going to get him. I'm going to go up there, and kill him." The cart is a
twisted mess, so the two walk back toward the repair hangars.
Thomas tries to yell over the sound of the engines, "How long until
the engines cut off?"
"When the fuel runs out! I hit the manual override!"
"Norman, are you crazy? There's enough fuel in here to last a year!"
"Well, then, as soon as the altitude meter reads twenty one thousand
kilometers, we can transport home!"
"Aren't we going to Logan's?"
"Well, I need to take my charts out and figure out the relative
motions of Logan's planet and our location! If I'm off by a millisecond,
we'll either be in deep space, or imbedded in a thousand kilometers of
magma! I'd look at them now, but I'm a little busy!" In a little over
seven minutes and forty two seconds, the ship will be twenty one thousand
kilometers from the planet's surface.
Aryer's temper is beginning to rise, "Where are those Class-A's?"
Vingk looks at him, "You know how long these things take. We are now
experiencing red tape as we speak."
"I'm sick and tired of depending on weaklings and imbeciles!"
"Unfortunately there's nothing we can do about it right now. Unless,
of course," Vingk looks around, "You want to cast a spell."
"I SAID SHUT UP about that! They'd identify us for sure."
"Then quit whining."
Aryer grabs Vingk by the front of his shirt and punches him twice in
the face, causing a bloody nose. "I could kill you in an instant, Vingk,
in an INSTANT! So I don't want to hear anything more from your pitiful
mouth."
Vingk shuts up. His long walk with Aryer back to the repair hangar
is similar to ones they've had for the last five hundred years. Vingk
knows the line of insubordination in Aryer's mind very clearly. That
doesn't prevent him from pushing that line at all times.
The Commander of Destroyer #HHQ-A-01 orders the Commanders of the
following Destroyers 02, 03 and 04 to follow in a descending patten and
prepare to pick up Statesman Aryer and Statesman's Assistant Vingk who
have just been sighted walking out of land that has just been exposed to
ten million unconfined degrees.
The navigator looks at the huge black scar left by the unhindered
release of the fusion reactor of a One-Hundred Hour Corporation transport
ship, "It looks like a pulsar bomb was dropped here!"
The Commander corrects him, "Ensign, if a pulsar bomb was dropped,
you would be looking at debris instead of a planet. Just keep your Motion
Detectors trained on those two. God only knows how they survived that."
The destroyers set down. Aryer and Vingk are welcomed into the
Command ship. Aryer runs to the bridge. "Commander," Aryer demands, "how
fast can this bucket go?"
"This DESTROYER is designed to accelerate at five G's."
"Have these ships been outfitted with Inertia Regulators?"
The entire bridge crew looks at him. The concerned Commander says,
"That's classified information, sir. I ask you not to mention it again."
"You didn't answer my question, stupid. I said, do you have the
Regulators?"
The Commander thinks for about one second, "Yes, we do. But we're
absolutely not allowed to engage them except in time of war."
"Well let me inform you that we, the technology side of this
universe, has been at war with magic for about four thousand years. Or
have you lived under a rock? You look like you have been."
The Commander takes offence at that remark, but the Statesman is
correct (that they are at war.) "Okay. We'll have it your way.
Communications, prepare ship for five G acceleration. Engineering, engage
Inertia Regulators. Okay, Statesman. Have you ever experienced five
hundred G acceleration?"
Aryer gulps. He knew the IR's could help a ship's speed, but he
never imagined THAT! "No, Commander I haven't."
"Then you had better sit down and fasten your seat belt. Navigator,
what is our range with our target?"
"Twenty thousand nine hundred and fifty kilometers... MARK!"
"Engineering, engage main thrusters with IR's, NOW!"
The ship kicks hard as their ears are pounded by the deafening rumble
of the engines on full. The engines themselves are actually producing
five hundred G acceleration. The Inertia Regulators are breaking that
down to an 'apparent' five G acceleration.
Aryer decides this would be a good time to converse with the
Commander, "Sir, how long until we close to twenty thousand kilometers?"
The Commander struggles to answer, "Err... About.. Twenty seconds!"
"What about intercept time?"
"Uhhh... N-Navig-gator?"
The fact that the navigator's charts are two feet away doesn't make
reading them any easier at five G apparent acceleration, "Mmmm... One
point... RRrrgh... One point five... minutes!!"
Many people will faint at this amount of pressure. However, every
member of the Elite Space Corps can withstand this kind of force for at
least ten minutes while performing their duties.
Aryer is ecstatic, "We've got 'em, Vingk did you hear that? We've
GOT THEM!"
"Ready Thomas?"
"Ready, Norman!!"
Thomas grabs hold of Norman. The surroundings of the One-Hundred
Hour transporter ship are instantly replaced by those of Norman's home.
"RRrrgh... Passing... The twenty thousand k-kilometerrr mark now,
ughh... sir!"
Vingk doesn't look at Aryer, but is curious, "Anything yet?"
"No. No detection yet. They must think we've lost them, the fools"
"Communic-cation, are the other ships... with us?"
"Yes sir! They are ackknow-led-ging!"
"Weapons, bring all Ion-Cannons to bear on target!"
"All weapons responding, sir!"
Aryer vocalizes his opinion, "Once in range, KILL 'EM!"
"All sh-ships report weapons charged... and... ready to fire, sir!"
"Navigator, give us the count!"
"Firing range in five, ffour, three, two..."
"HELM, BRING US ABOUT! FIRE ALL CANNONS!"
As the ship travels toward it's target, it must rotate before
firing. If it fires in the direction it's moving, the ship would
accelerate into the Ion missiles it just fired. All but the aft cannons
can be pointed forward. That means thirty cannons per ship times four
ships. One hundred and twenty ion blasts like the one that hit Norman
and Thomas in the open field strike their target with 'bulls-eye'
accuracy. The One-Hundred Hour ship is utterly destroyed.
"Helm, slow this puppy down. Navigation, plot a course to the
wreckage, and parallel it's motion. Approach at twenty G acceleration
with IR on, please. Give me rotation on the Y axis for a one G field.
Have computers compensate for rotation, and inform me when we're within
scanning range. I want a look at that debris."
"Aye, sir."
Thomas looks around. "Whew, it's good to be in familiar settings
again."
Norman agrees, "I know what you mean. Let's go into the study."
The two enter a large room that is packed with books. Never mind the
usage of bookshelves, Norman has them arranged practically randomly in
various stacks around the room. Many of these books are hundreds of years
old. Norman, with a memory as good as his ability to withstand fantastic
forces, knows exactly where each book is. But books are not his concern
right now. Norman pulls out of his bag, a large map.
"You're looking up Logan's planet's location relative to this one?"
Thomas inquires.
"That's correct."
"Why?"
"I already explained it to you. I need to know exactly where to
transport to."
"How did you know how to get us here, then?"
"Because, I had already memorized the relative motions of 'here' and
that slime-pit we were just in. Adjusting for the rocket was easy."
"Norman, are you telling me that you've forgotten the information you
need to transport to Logan's, and you have to LOOK IT UP?"
"No, Thomas, I'm telling you I've never been to Logan's and I have to
look it up."
"Oh. Okay."
After a few moments, Norman puts his map back into his bag. Thomas
touches Norman, and the scenery changes to a grassy field. The sky is
grey and a misty rain is falling. They look around, and behind them are
five enormous castles made of stone that seems to glow a pale green.
Norman and Thomas are now so far away from Aryer, that it would take many
millions of years for Aryer to reach them even with the IR destroyers.
"We are parallel with the previous course, sir, and are at a relative
all stop with the debris."
"Thank you, Helmsman. Scan for human remains."
"Scanning of that detail will take a moment, sir."
Aryer whispers to Vingk, "I could do it in a nanosecond."
"Scanning reports negative, sir. No indication that there was ever
a pilot aboard. Computer recommends that it was an automation
malfunction."
The Commander looks at Aryer. "I am not going to be responsible for
this. You ordered me to destroy a multi-trillion credit ship without
cause, and neither I, nor the military are going to pick up the tab."
"SHUT UP, Commander! YOU will not be the judge of how much cause I
had in ordering you. There WERE two wizards on board. They must have
transported just before you fired your weapons."
"That brings up another point," the Commander continues, "How is it
that you two were found walking in the middle of a devastated area?"
"You're changing the subject!"
The Commander turns to one of his officers, "Communications, send a
current transcript, computer log and a request to advise to ESC Command.
Helm, current altitude from the surface?"
"Twenty one thousand, one hundred kilometers, sir."
He turns back to the communications officer, "Okay, ensign, at this
distance go ahead and use radio carrier wave. Encode due to the sensitive
nature of the Statesman's questions before our flight."
"Aye, sir."
The Commander turns back to Aryer, "If they come back to us, and hold
you responsible, then I will have to ask you to accompany my men to the
brig."
Hearing that, the Security chief orders four armed guards to the
bridge.
Aryer is shocked, "You dare say that I am responsible for paying for
that ship?"
"I didn't say anything. All I know is that the military isn't, and
that you might be."
"Commander, message coming in from ESC Command."
"What is it?"
"They say to place Statesman Aryer and Statesman's Assistant Vingk
under arrest with a HEAVY guard compliment."
Aryer thinks for a moment as four armed guards enter the bridge.
Aryer has two choices. He may fight, thereby losing his Statesmanship, or
he can obey. Aryer and Vingk follow the guards to the brig with no
resistance.
"Have you ever seen anything like it?" asks Norman.
"What you're looking at, Norman, is three hundred quintillion
credits."
"I prefer three times ten to the twentieth."
Thomas looks at Norman, "No matter how you look at it, it's more
wealth than most PLANETS have! And it's all packed into the material that
makes up five castles. Now THAT is the highest level of decadence I have
EVER seen!" Thomas laughs.
"Well, I think it's time we go chat with Logan now."
Thomas and Norman walk up to the front gate of the first castle they
come to. For defence, one hundred twenty inch Ion Cannons line the top of
the castle wall that towers four hundred feet above their heads.
"Who are you?" the gate guard asks.
"I am Lesser-Lord Norman, and this is Greater-Lord Thomas. We have
brought vital information about the Magic/Technology wars. We must see
Logan at once."
The gate guard laughs. "LORDS? Want to see LOGAN? Do you have an
audience?"
"How were we supposed to know that we were going to find this
information? If we KNEW we were going to find it, we would have made an
appointment!" Norman uses a bit of sarcasm in his tone.
The guard's demeanor turns from jovial to inconsiderate, "Hey, don't
talk to me that way. Don't you know that Logan sees NO ONE below Creator?
I guess you wouldn't know that simple bit of info, would you?"
The Head Guard approaches, "What's going on here?"
Norman quickly responds to the question not asked him, "I have vital
information involving the Magic/Technology wars for Logan himself, and
this jackass here won't do me the courtesy of a Know Truth spell."
The Head Guard looks at his subordinate, "Well?"
"LESSER-Lord Norman here used, well, what I would call inappropriate
sarcasm."
"Oh. I see. Guard, consider yourself under suspension. Go get a
backup to replace you, and report to my quarters immediately."
"Yes, sir." The guard looks at Norman and leaves.
"Thank you. I really do have important information. For Logan's
eyes only."
"I understand."
A perfectly uniformed officer approaches, "SIR, LP Guard Dranns
reporting for backup duty as ordered, SIR!"
The Head Guard looks him over, "LP? You're on Logan's PERSONAL guard
assignment?"
"SIR, yes, SIR."
"Carry on." He turns to Norman, "Shall we?"
The three walk into a hidden door on their left, leaving one of
Logan's personal guard at one of the gates. The gate is in very good
hands.
After a set of twisting, multi-level corridors, Norman and Thomas are
led into what appears to be a library. Looking out the window, they can
see the ground two hundred feet below. They also have obviously been led
to another castle by underground passage. Several minutes pass, and by
the time they begin to get interested in various books, a figure enters
the room.
"I'm Logan. It's good to meet you." Logan approaches and shakes
their hands.
Norman speaks first after five full seconds of being awe struck, "Uh,
the pleasure is all ours, sir."
"Thank you. Won't you please sit down? I understand you have some
important things to say to me."
"Well," Norman says, "we WERE planning on contacting your brother
Kroman, but we gather that he's a bit busy with the Party of Deciders."
"He is. How can I help you?"
Norman continues as he pulls out the spell computer, "Well, sir,
through circumstances that we cannot divulge, we have acquired this spell
computer." Norman hands it to Logan. "If you scan to the first spell,
you'll notice that there is in fact a text entry."
Logan does so. And reads the entry in it's entirety. "And what are
your conclusions?"
Thomas and Norman look at each other. Norman turns to Logan in
shock, "You can't come to the obvious conclusion?"
Logan's power transcends Norman's wildest imagination, "Humor me."
Norman sits back in his chair. "I kinda figured they would carry out
the plan in five days or so. That's when most of the Magic army would be
consolidated."
Logan sits back. He reaches into his bag, pulls out a small box, and
speaks into it, "Yuri, will you bring the maps in here, please? Thank
you." He turns back to Norman, "I have some news for you."
Yuri walks in with an armful of maps, sets them down at the table
they are at, leaves and closes the door. Logan organizes the maps.
"What is all this?" asks Thomas.
"This, gentlemen, is classified information. None of what you see
may leave this room." Logan points to an area on a map, "Here is where
Technology is located in general. Here is where Magic is located. As you
can see, there is very little action between the two. As a matter of
fact, because of the distance we've created, there hasn't been so much
peace for a thousand years. There will be no attack on their part."
"I tell you there is!" Norman exclaims, "Why else would Aryer have
a meeting with Borone?"
"Let me find out." Logan pulls out the box again, and pushes a
couple of buttons on it. "Hello? Borone? It's Logan. I know you're
busy. Shut up for a second. Could you come here? YES right now! Thank
you." Borone appears out of nowhere.
"What are you bothering me with now, Logan? I NEVER treated you this
badly when we were growing up."
Logan looks at him, "Just hold on. Do you know an Aryer?"
"Aryer? What a stupid name! NO, never heard of him."
"Thanks, that's it."
At that, Borone disappears. Norman doesn't know what to think. "I
don't know what to say, Logan. I don't understand."
"Did it ever occur to you that this Aryer person might have written
this for a book of fiction? Or perhaps just for fun?"
Norman looks to the floor like a school boy being scolded, "No."
"Did you steal this from Aryer?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry Norman, but you and Thomas are going to have to be charged
for theft, and negligent communication of false information."
"What? But we didn't know it was false!"
"I think you know by now that ignorance of the law is no excuse.
Will yo come peacefully? I am an extremely fair judge, and do not
approve of crewel and unusual punishment."
Norman looks at Thomas, and says, "We'll come peacefully."

The trial for Aryer and Vingk is very short. The witness at the prep
tower, and Supervisor Earl testify to support the Statesman's claim of
Wizards. That testimony added to the computer evidence of two Wizards
transporting in via spell a few moments earlier speed the acquittal. The
first place Aryer thinks to go is Logan's planet. He buys a two-seater
space plane (with public money, of course) and he and his accomplice take
off through the Magic Detection grid. Once in orbit, they Transport
directly to Logan's front gate, leaving their plane on auto-pilot. The
two are escorted in, given quarters, and await the trial of Norman and
Thomas.

Aryer, Vingk, Norman, and Thomas are in the same room. Logan sits at
the head of the table, the two pairs are sitting on opposite sides, and a
Wizard with a Record spell active is across from Logan.
Logan begins, "I have looked over the evidence, and find the
defendants, Norman and Thomas, guilty of petty theft. There are two
possible punishments. One is Trial By Combat if both parties agree."
Aryer sits forward with a wild look in his eyes, "Please, Norman,
please Trail By Combat!"
Norman looks at Logan, "I don't agree," he looks back at Aryer, "NO
Trial By Combat."
Logan continues, "The second is a punishment that I decide. And
since I figured that there would be no Trial By Combat, I have already
come up with one. Firstly, I order Lesser-Lord Norman and Greater-Lord
Thomas to live one full year without the use of the Transport spell on a
planet that I will disclose at a later date. Secondly, I am ordering
Demi-Supreme Vingk and Greater-Supreme Aryer to keep a minimum distance of
one thousand light years from said planet for the duration of that year."
Norman asks, "When does the year start?"
Logan looks back, "Right now." He snaps his fingers for effect, and
Norman and Thomas appear in a very small port town at dawn.
Norman looks around, "Gee. I guess crime doesn't pay."
"Norman," Thomas says, "Shut up."