CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN
COLORADO SPRINGS, CO
10 NOV 2011, 18:47 MST
General Shepard glared at the phone, unseen by the person who was currently annoying him. “What gave you the impression that impersonating me was remotely a good idea?”
“It was a routine request, sir, and you were unavailable.”
“Taking a potshot at a foreign dignitary is not in any way routine!” stormed the General. “You very nearly cost us not just a pair of very expensive jets, but any goodwill we’d built up with him.”
“Sorry sir. Won’t happen again.”
“You say that so glibly, and yet I’m sure the recording still exists. What do I have to do to make my point clear? Court martial the lot of you?”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, sir.”
“It better not be.”
The General slammed the phone down and stomped to the other side of the operations room. “Is there any way we can prevent another stunt like that?” he asked as he paced.
“In the short term, we could cut them out of the loop,” offered one of the men keeping up with his pacing.
“How do you mean, Sergeant?”
Sergeant Reese pointed to a rather unassuming switchbox on the wall near the entrance. “All communications to and from the base go through that panel. We flip a handful of switches, and they’re mostly blind, deaf and dumb.”
The General’s brow furrowed. “That seems a peculiar sort of arrangement. I thought this was the backup command center.”
The Sergeant looked entirely unfazed by his superior officer’s disapproval. “It was the original command center, sir. All the secure communications come here first, and are relayed to Peterson. It also makes sense for resilience. If we’re attacked, Peterson is toast, but this facility has a chance of surviving. Thus, comms must come through here.”
“Let’s keep that one under our hats for now. It is good to know I have some leverage, because they certainly don’t seem to be respecting my position. Tempted to storm over there and knock some heads together.”
“I wouldn’t recommend that, sir,” said Agent Brown.
“And why not?”
“I don’t think the night’s surprises are quite done with us yet, and we’re safer here.”
That earned Agent Brown a glare. “And what makes you think that?”
“It’s a full Moon, sir. And there’s a forgein weapon platform roaming around the country at will. I believe our attack on him was the third so far this night, and there are more than three factions that want him out of the way.”
“Wonderful.” The General sighed and looked around. “If we’re stuck here, can we at least get the light in the damn DEFCON board fixed? We’ve been at DE N 2 for the last hour, and I’m getting tired of it.”
“Right away sir.”
WALT’S DUNGEON
BOULDER, CO
10 NOV 2011, 18:50 MST
Duncan, Donna and Dia surveyed their trap carefully. Like the previous room, the walls were smooth stone. Unlike that room, there was only one door, and it was featureless from this side. Trying to manipulate it with magic proved fruitless, it was silvered and would not permit magic to pass. The stone of the walls must have been hewn from silver-bearing rocks, for it too proved impervious to magic. They couldn’t affect it, and their arcane senses could barely even sense its presence, as if the walls were a magical void.
Under even a close examination, the walls were smooth and free of the seams one might expect for secret doors. The floor was equally solid, though it showed signs of scuff marks from the door to the middle of the room, as if someone had walked that route regularly. Curiously, there seemed to be the slightest of seams where the floor met the wall, but none of them could sense anything behind the gap. Whatever was blocking their magic was more seamless than the floor.
It took an embarrassingly long time to consider examining the ceiling instead. There was little enough to sense over most of it, the join with the wall was even more seamless than the one at the floor. But as they scanned over it, they noticed a gap in the screening, right in the center of the ceiling. There was nothing but a magical void beyond the gap, but there was still quite clearly a gap.
“Perhaps if we feed a little power to whatever that is, something will happen,” mused Duncan aloud.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try...”
They touched the void with a little of their magic, and it lit up to their senses, glowing a soothing shade of green. A moment later, there was a soft whooshing noise, and the floor of the room started to rise.
“Getting stuck in a trash compactor might just hurt,” sighed Duncan. “Maybe if we shrink down small enough to fit in the gap?”
The floor continued its inexorable rise toward the roof.
“Honestly, a death-trap doesn’t seem like Disney’s style. There must be something...”
A moment later, the ceiling vanished, as did the magic screening. “An illusion?” giggled Donna. “We could have flown right up through it.”
As they ascended, the panelled walls of a well appointed library came into view. The bookshelves did not dominate the room, as the collection here seemed to be fairly small, yet very old. Two of the tomes were sitting on a reading desk, open to bookmarked pages. Sitting in one of the chairs by the warmly glowing fireplace was what looked like a man, yet to their senses it was clear he was a construct.
Duncan stared at the figure for a touch too long. “Ben Franklin?”
The figure peered at them over the rim of his spectacles. “In a sense. What can I do for you?”
“What are you?”
Ben shrugged. “Walt’s work on ‘audio animatronics’ was cover for work on constructs. You’d have met one of his earlier works on the way up.”
Duncan chuckled softly. “Mickey did have an odd sense of humour. Pleased to meet you. I’m Duncan, Donna and Dia.”
That statement caused a raised eyebrow. “Most peculiar. Though I suppose that a floating crystal claiming to be a person raises its own questions.”
Duncan chuckled softly, and formed a new robotic body for himself, and the crystal settled in as a pendant. “I am used to going between worlds. So... what are your capabilities?”
“Dispensing wisdom. I’m limited to this room. I try to keep the library organized, but Walt was very particular that books he kept out on the desk were to be left alone. It is vexing that he won’t be coming back.”
“Ah, so you know? Can you tell me about the battle in Detroit?”
Ben shook his head. “Just that he was off to deal with a particularly dangerous thanovore. It was not hard to figure out he’d lost when he didn’t return. There’s been a paucity of news from Detroit since the incident, which I’ve taken to mean things went very poorly indeed.”
Duncan nodded their head. “Something went very wrong. The battle caused some kind of portal to open. There’s some kind of soul-destroying emanation coming from the portal. It’s affecting people as far away as Windsor. Not that that’s all that far, granted, but it does mean the issue is spilling into Canada.”
“And from your accent, that’s meaningful to you.”
“Yes. But that’s not the reason I’m here. I need to find out what Walt did to the Worldstone, and find some way to undo it.”
“Ah. There are several books on the topic in the library.”
Duncan smiled broadly. “Finally, some good news. Where are they?” They moved toward the shelf that Ben indicated, but were suddenly taken aback when the construct jumped from his chair and blocked the way with glowing eyes and suddenly clawlike talons.
Duncan took a reflexive step back, and Ben resumed his jovial demeanor. “I am sorry about that,” he sighed. “Walt was very specific about not letting others touch his books.”
“You do realize we could destroy you with a moment’s effort?” chimed Dia.
“Indubitably. But then you would lose access to my wisdom,” said Ben serenely.
“Are you familiar with the contents of these books?” asked Duncan, while thinking placating thoughts at his other selves.
“In exacting detail.”
Duncan gestured to the chair opposite the one Ben had been using. “May I sit without triggering another defence mechanism?”
Ben returned to his chair, and nodded. “Only the books are protected.”
Duncan sat down cautiously, legs tucked neatly together. “Can you tell me about their contents?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. This can work.” Duncan relaxed slightly, leaning back into the comfort of the well-padded chair. “What can you tell me about the Worldstone?”
“Unfortunately I am barred from acknowledging its existence.”
Duncan shrugged. “I know it exists. I need to know how to fix it.”
“Fix it?” asked Ben. For the first time, his expression was avidly curious. “What is wrong with it?”
“Disney figured out how to tie his list of copyrighted characters to the Worldstone’s pattern exclusion. As the list grows, something in the Worldstone is weakening. If it grows too large...” Duncan left the concern hanging.
Ben nodded slowly. “I see. That is a grave concern indeed. I wish I could help you, but I fear I cannot. Most of what is in the tomes is speculation and rumor, in any case, and would not help you.”
Duncan sighed and stood up. “I imagine you’re right at that. I expect I could figure out what I need to do, if I could just get access to it. It’s not here, is it?”
Ben shook his head. “No.”
“Can you tell me where it is?”
“I do not have that information. Walt was very guarded about it.”
Duncan sighed softly. “Did he ever say anything about its location?”
Ben studied Duncan for a long time. “Are you his successor in power?”
“I think that would more rightfully be his son, Elias. Unfortunately, he’s bound to the tower. And not particularly powerful, as mages go.”
“Is there anyone more powerful than you?” asked Ben.
“Not that I am aware of.”
Ben nodded. “That will do. As Walt’s successor, I have one message for you.” His posture and demeanour changed, as did his voice. “It is hidden in plain sight. If you have seen it, you will know it.”