The Hound of Kemamonit
Chapter six
I was in a convention center in Los Angeles, the annual meeting of the Society of Rocketry and Space Exploration.
I had come with Chinda, Roger and my husband Peter.
Peter was with a small group of people shaking hands and talking. He had left the rocket business recently but still enjoyed going to industry events.
"See ya gotta meet people, go to places you wouldn't normally go," I was saying to Roger and Chinda.
The two of them looked terrified, neither used to being in a large group of well dressed driven professional types.
"It's all show you know... the clothes, the expensive watches... there are people here who can barely afford bus fare," I said.
"Really?" Chinda said.
"Both of you are going to learn how to do magical research next term... sorcerer's search time and space, you will find out lot of things about people... see their secrets... some of the things you find out will keep you awake at night."
The large group of people in the room suddenly started to turn towards a speaker's podium that had been set up at the front of the room.
I saw a sixty-ish balding man in an dark black suit start to speak.
"I would like to welcome everybody to our thirtieth annual meeting."
Everyone clapped.
"Now without further adieu, I would like to introduce our new Chief Operating Executive of Hoving Aerospace, Sonja Ramirez.
I saw a tall shapely woman emerge from the crowd and walk towards the podium, she wore a beautiful green dress that somehow seemed to exude both professionalism and sexiness. She had long black wavy hair that hung almost to her waist.
She turned towards the audience when she reached the podium, I saw her face for the first time. She was in her forties but it hadn't diminished her beauty. She was radiant.
My heart skipped a beat in sudden shock. I recognized her, it was Semiramis, a powerful sorceress I had duelled with in the ancient past. I struggled to remain composed, she should be dead, I had stabbed her in the heart.
Except that was probably in a different history. Magic was capable of many weird things.
"Um... so sorry... my English is not so good," she said in an accent that probably seduced as many men as her beauty.
She started into a long technical speech about her company's current projects. She could have been reading her grocery list, it wouldn't have mattered, the men in the audience were mesmerized. The women all stared without expression, eyes as sharp as daggers.
Peter was beside me, there was fear in his eyes.
"How?" he mouthed silently.
"I don't know... maybe just a eerie resemblance," I whispered.
"We have to get out of here," Peter whispered, he turned to Chinda and Roger, "no magic!"
The four of us were sitting in a small diner eating lunch.
"Stupid Imhotep... that's who did it," I said as I hungrily munched through a large pile of fried potatoes. Strangely I hadn't been getting heartburn during the last few days.
"Why would he preserve her?" Peter said, he had a quizzical expression on his face for some reason as he stared at me eating.
"Guys are so dumb when it comes to a beautiful woman."
"We're not even sure it's her, you've said before you've seen people from the past in the future."
"It's her."
"If it is her that's not good, Hoving is the biggest defence contractor in the world. They make everything from ICBM's to tanks," Peter said.
"It's her for sure then... in the past her ambition was always to conquer the world," I said.
"Can't we just um... like... take her out?" Chinda asked.
"Don't know how long she's been here she might have safeguards... beside's just killing someone... not so easy," I said.
Peter was staring intently at a small computer tablet he usually carried with him.
"Hmm...." he said.
"What?" I asked.
"Hoving just bought up a whole bunch of small start-up companies in the last year, most of them have to do with quantum computing."
"That doesn't sound too bad, they can't get them to work, probably never will... I learned a bit about them when I was taking computer science in university," Roger said.
"Why not," I asked.
"The atomic particles they are using for bits are all unstable, everything falls apart after a few micro-seconds, they think it might be an inherent problem in trying to build a computer this way."
"But have they figured out the theory... I mean do they know how this computer should work?" I asked, my heart starting to beat faster.
"Oh ya... not that different from classical computer's, if they get this particle thing figured out, it'll be a slam dunk, "Roger said.
"So what's stopping her from just using a bit of magic to smooth over the rough bit's," I said.
Peter looked up from his pad again.
"That's what she did," he picked up the tablet and showed me the screen, I saw a picture of a thirtyish, geeky looking man with frazzlely hair.
"Walter Mittle Phd... just got a large grant from Hoving... apparently discovered some sort of breakthrough in quantum something or other," Peter continued.
"It's just a grant."
"I know this guy... completely useless, has a long string of embarrassing failures, if he didn't have tenure at the university he works at, he'd be homeless."
"Perfect cover for her though, a qualified academic to hide her magic... he's probably desperate for success, even if it isn't real... plus getting the attention of a beautiful woman," I said.
"What would she want this computer stuff for?" Chinda asked.
"Well... um... what about the singularity... you know all those movies, the computer's take over the world, maybe it's something like that," Roger said.
"Too bad we don't know any quantum computer sorcerer types," I said.
Roger and Chinda both looked away suddenly, pretending to act oblivious.
I felt my eye's narrow, they were hiding something, no doubt something to do with Janet and Shelley.
"Roger... you know... integrity and honesty are very important in sorcery," I said nonchalantly.
Chinda was a tough chick, the truth would only be wrested out of her with a lot of yelling and tears, Roger on the other hand was burdened by an oversized conscience.
"What do you mean?" Roger said, a hurt expression appeared on his face.
"Oh... nothing... if you don't want to tell me that's fine... I'm not your mother."
Chinda stared at Roger with a stern expression, giving her head an almost imperceptible shake.
"What do you mean?" Chinda asked, trying to divert my attention.
"Yes Roger... what do I mean?" I said, staring at him intently.
From Roger's expression I could see that a violent battle was taking place between his conscience and his loyalty to Chinda.
"The city hasn't been deserted for centuries," Roger blurted out.
I dropped my fork.
"What!?" Peter and I said together.
Chinda rolled her eyes, then slapped Roger on his knee.
"God Roger... we were going to tell them after we had explored everything," she said exasperated.
"There are others in the city?" I asked.
"No... not now... I think the last guy moved out maybe about twenty-five years ago... judging from the empty cans and the model of the TV," Chinda said.
"How do you know this?"
"Chinda and I were so bored when we were with the archaeologist's that we started exploring on our own. We found a pile of old food cans in front of one of the building's. When we went inside we found a lab and living quarters for maybe six people. The equipment looked like it was from the fifties to the seventies," Roger said.
"Who were they?" Peter asked.
"I recognized three of the names on some of the documents they left, Howard Mannston, Jon Newfellow and Brian Widdle."
"I'm pretty sure I know who this
the Newfellow guy was, But who are the other two?" I asked.
"Brian Widdle... you don't mean the twine theory guy? and Mannston the billionaire?" Peter asked incredulously.
"I think so," Roger said.
"Wow... they were sorcerers... kinda explains Mannston's weirdness."
"Where are they now?" I asked.
"Mannston's dead... died of cancer in the early seventies... doctor's figure it was some kind of massive radiation exposure, he owned a bunch of companies involved in the nuclear field. Newfellow as you know disappeared in the late fifties. Widdle on the other hand is alive and well, he was on TV the other night, you know that science show we were watching."
I nodded my head in agreement, unfortunately I hadn't watched the show. I had surreptitiously written a spell months ago that gave me the appearance of watching the same program as Peter but in reality it superimposed the program that I wanted to watch over top of it, I had incorporated it into a pair of eyeglasses.
The spell even piped the other show's sound into my ears. I had good hearing so I could keep the volume low enough that Peter wouldn't hear and I was still able to hear and respond to any random comments he made.
Unfortunately the side effect was that Peter now thought that I now needed mild prescription glasses.
"So Widdle's a TV announcer?" I asked.
"Well not really... don't you remember the show?" I saw Peters eyes start to narrow.
"Ya... um... but you know I spend so much time trying to figure out the sciency stuff... I... um don't pay attention to the announcer's... you know... being from the past and all... still getting over that zero thing... um... wow... a number with no value."
Peter looked at me suspiciously.
"Widdle is the foremost theorist in twine theory, some say he is the most brilliant physicist alive today."
Twine theory? I thought to myself.
"Yep... it's really cool," Roger said.
"Why do you say that," I said, desperately hoping for some kind of explanation.
"Atomic particles made by knotting pieces of twine of infinite dimensions... you use the laws of probability to predict the chance of the free twine ends forming the different types of particles," Roger had an expression of what looked like adoration of his face.
"Yes... it can't be wrong it's the only game in town, what other theory is there? Atoms have to made of something," Peter said.
Ahhh now I remember, that stupid theory... gods. A vague memory of a TV show popped into my mind, I had watched it months ago. It may have actually have been the impetus for my glasses spell. Peter found science shows so interesting for some reason.
An image of Widdle also popped into my head, he had been a handsome man with a large head, he was in his fifties.
"Well maybe we should have a little chat with this Widdle fellow," I said as I finished off my potatoes.