Chapter 10: Crawling Round the Charles

As the transportation committee, Cor and I took our job seriously and chartered a grav-bus. One of the new, sleek ones designed for high-end customers, with some seriously pimped out accoutrement. It pulled up in front of Stratton at 7pm where the crew were waiting. It wasn't hard to spot. A luxury grav-bus with "Charles River 50 Mile Club" emblazoned on the side made us a bit obvious.

The sixteen of us piled onto the bus. The girls were definitely dressed up and enjoying it. The guys seemed none the worse for wear, and I noticed a lot of fresh haircuts and hairdos as well as contact lenses in place of the usual no-fuss glasses that half of them usually wore. We were evenly split female and male. The Gravy Geeks had outnumbered the women by one, but Yuri had brought his girlfriend Katerina.

Everyone was thoroughly impressed when our ride lifted straight up and took a direct route above the grav-car corridor and below the local flight paths. It took a special permit and a licensed and bonded driver to make that happen, but it did let us do a bit more 'as-the-crow-flies' traveling.

The 'Fifty miles' part of our crawl was a theoretical ideal, but Zoo and Audra had opted to make it less about 'as-the-crow-flies' distances and more about regional flavor. Dinner was set for a restaurant in Lynn, Massachusetts called The Oxford Street Grill. We had our driver's cell number and all we had to do was give him twenty minutes after we called.

This was perhaps a little finer dining than most of the crew were used to, and the prices were definitely higher than the usual campus eateries, but nobody died of sticker shock. Audra recommended everyone try the beef dumpling appetizers, and we ordered enough of those for everyone.

The wine list was where the real sticker shock came in, but Audra and Zoo had anticipated that problem, and had ordered a local sparkling wine for everyone as part of the reservation, and as part of their local flavor focus. The sparkling wine went well with everything on the menu, lamb, beef, fish or fowl, so that eliminated a lot of agonizing as well.

The dinner menu was limited, but each choice available was excellent. Cor and I both had the braid of wild-caught salmon. Dinner chatter was upbeat and lighthearted, and there was more than a bit of boy-girl banter, which both sides were enjoying. Once we had eaten our meal and we had placed our dessert orders - almost all of us ordering what our waitress said was the local favorite, a Cape Cod cranberry crème brûlée, I got everyone's attention.

"Can I have a show of hands of everyone at the table involved in the gravitics track?" Of course all the Gravy Greeks raised their hands.

"The Gravy Geeks have identified themselves," I said.

"Could I have a show of hands of everyone at the table involved in the Fusion Energy track?" Most of the ladies, except for Cor and Yuri's girlfriend Katerina raised there hand.

"The Power Puff Girls have identified themselves," I said. That brought out a little laughter and chatter for a moment.

"Alright, Cor we all know is a Nanite, and that leaves Katerina."

We all just sort of stared at Katerina, who blinked back for a moment, then blushed.

"I am sorry. I am here under false pretenses. I am a graphic artist from Boston, I work for a company that makes brochures for the hotel industry."

That got Katerina a group hug from the rest of the ladies, and we all quickly reassured her that we were happy to have her with us.

The warm and fuzzy moment over, ever vigilant Arne brought us back on topic.

"You had a point, in asking us to identify our tracks?"

"Yes I did. But before I go further, can you all promise me to keep it under wraps for a while?"

I got an immediate chorus of agreement from everyone, and I got clean reads from everyone when I checked them with a surface scan.

"Yesterday at lunch, Arne and Yuri asked me about the Interplanetary Mars Expedition proposal, and wanted me to get a sense of what direction things might be going. They see as obvious, as most of you do, that any craft developed for that expedition will use both fusion energy and gravitics technology. Yesterday I spoke to Professor Carmody and Doctor Thurman. They have both been getting bombarded by requests from both the joint study group and the various space agencies that will probably be involved."

That opened up a can of babble that threatened to annoy the neighboring diners. I did my best 'shushing', and got their attention back.

"Folks, lets not get too carried away here. There'll be time for that later."

Dessert arrived and saved me anyway. Halfway through I called our driver and told him we were finishing dessert, paying our tab and we would be ready for him.

Our next stop was the Ninety Nine in Revere. This was a chain restaurant and pub, and was more of a family restaurant than a straight pub, but it was still early in the evening, and this made a nice transition to the rowdier atmospheres we would be encountering later.

Mostly it was an excuse to switch to the beverage of choice when pub crawling. Beer!

Because the Boston area was home to one of the most successful small brewers gone big, Sam Adams was the heavy favorite for those who wanted to escape the ubiquity of Budweiser and Miller and the other large national brewers. We'd get into other micro-brews and specialty beers as the evening wore on, I was sure. To be honest, my palate was not exactly tuned for beer. It had been spoiled by the wines of Arbor.

At the Ninety Nine, we were able to tuck ourselves away into a corner, drink our beer and ease back into the International Mars Expedition.

"You tell us more now, yes?" Yuri asked. The big doofus spoke perfect English when he wanted to, he was just playing to the sympathetic ears at the table. Katerina at least had the good grace to giggle as he did.

"After talking to Carmody and Thurman yesterday, I went home and read through my backlog of mail. The ESA, NASA, CNSA and Roskosmos are all clamoring for not only both McKesson and/or Obsidian involvement, but my personal involvement as well."

The babble was back, and I let it run its course, quietly sipping my beer while I waited for their focus to return.

"They're clamoring, but how are you responding?" Morrie asked.

"Last night Cor and I had dinner with my parents. I spoke at length with my Dad and Grandfather. As I'm sure you know, the two of them are the heart and soul of McKesson and Obsidian. Guardian Gravitics too, for that matter. They have also been getting bombarded from all directions regarding the RFP from the Joint study group."

I stopped there to take a long slow drink of my beer. I made a production out of it. Of course it worked. Chester Magill bit.

"Well? What did you decide?"

"McKesson, Obsidian and Guardian are in, all the way. I will probably be in and out until the actual expedition, and then I'm in all the way. Who wants in?"

All the Gravy Geeks and the newly minted Power Puff Girls raised their hands as expected, but even Katerina raised her hand. I could see that the Nanites were wanting to raise their hand.

"Cor?" I called.

Cor raised her hand then.

"I have a project of my own to work on, developing a new space suit that will take advantage of the advances that have been happening in nanofluidics and gravitics. We'll probably have to recruit at least one or more people with experience in control interfaces and microcircuitry." Cor said.

"Speaking of recruiting, I want everyone who just raised their hand to make a list of anyone not at this table tonight who you believe should be involved in this project. Don't limit yourselves to MIT students, and don't let personalities affect your choices. There will be a lot of room for people in this project. Butting heads should be minimized."

The table immediately morphed into small clusters, heads together, and low buzzes emanating from each.

I let out a lard, sharp whistle. Everyone's head's popped up.

"Hey! This is a pub crawl, not a brainstorming session. Save that stuff for tomorrow."

That got everyone focused again on having fun, and the chatter at the table went back to normal. We had our one round at the Ninety Nine and decided it was time to move on to the next stop.

Wayne, our driver/pilot had plenty of room to park in the relatively deserted parking lot of the Wonderland Mall where the Ninety Nine was located. This Ninety Nine I should say. It's actually a regional chain that started in Massachusetts.

Stop number three for the evening was the Honey Fitz Irish Pub in Malden. Here I discovered the joys of something called a 'Black and Tan', which was a glass of beer that is half Guinness and half Bass. The dark Guinness actually floats on top of the Bass!

Honey Fitz was definitely more what we had in mind when we thought of a pub. It was Saturday night, and there was going to be live music here tonight, but the band was still setting up and we weren't planning on staying longer than a single round.

Our next stop was the Sligo Pub in Somerville. It was a dive, but it sure felt real. 'Moe's Tavern, but without the charm and atmosphere' was how somebody described it. We were out of there almost as fast as we could drain our glasses. We hit the Busy B Pub, just a short hop away in Watertown. This was a decent neighborhood bar and we had a beer and visited with the locals who were slightly amused to see pub-crawling MIT students.

We left the Busy B for Buff's Pub a short distance away in Newton. We decided to recharge with some chicken wings, which were very tasty. If we weren't in full-on crawl mode, we might have stayed here a while. They even had stuffed buffalo heads on the walls!

To be honest, most of the rest of the night was blurry and non-memorable. There was karaoke and dancing, I remember that, but the rest is just a jumble of places and faces. Not because of the alcohol, or the company, but because my mind was already running on overdrive thinking about how I was going to juggle the two worlds I was living in.

Back on Arbor, I felt restored and complete. Once again NeedleThorn was fully alive in my hand! I needed action and purpose, so I left Cor at the Tower to get things straightened up, and I rode Slider to the Red Flag. I decided not to cheat today and gave Slider his head for the entire distance, and we both enjoyed it. Arbor continued to work her magic on Slider, but unlike Grendel, who I think was slowly being changed into something more than a horse, Slider was just becoming more horse. Faster, stronger, tougher, smarter and more agile.

We slowed to a casual trot as we approached the courtyard at the Red Flag. I once again saw Root come running out. Today he was alone.

"Good morning Sir!" Root called in return. I slid down off of Slider, pulled an apple out of one pocket and a coin from another, feeding the apple to Slider with a compliment for a nice run.

"Call me Weaver. I don't like to be called Sir," I said to Root, flipping the coin to him. "Where's Speck?"

"He's with Stronghand over at the cattle pens. We've got a late run of cattle and they came in grumpy, Speck says."

"Let him know I'm here and would like to spend a moment with him. Tell him I'll buy him a glass of his favorite."

"Yes sir!"

I entered the Red Flag and into a sea of noise and pandemonium. The cattle may have been in their pens, but the cattle drovers were out of theirs, and seemed close to stampeding. I caught Rose's eye immediately and I could actually see the sense of relief wash over her. She motioned with her eyes towards the middle of the room. Trough was there, belly to belly and eye to eye with the only man on Arbor I'd seen so far who could match his physical dimensions. As I walked over I spotted Spider Swoda, Sunshine's husband and several of the beefier Red Flag staff standing behind him.

" ... over a week late, and double the number you asked for. You will settle for what we have, and I will not be intimidated into anything more. There, I've said it for the last time. Accept it, or leave the Red Flag and take your rowdy crew with you."

"We are fresh in from the road. We want wine, we want song and we want baths and soft beds, that is all."

"Can I help?" I asked Trough, letting him know I was there. He hadn't taken his eyes from the other large fellow for even a moment.

"Weaver! You are just in time to help me talk some sense into this dense elkaphant!"

"Well you could pass for an elkaphant in a dimly lit room yourself Trough. What is the crux of the problem here?"

"This is Runner Lamphor, owner of the cattle currently resting in our pens, and leader of all the men you see here with him. He contracted with us through Agent Ash at the beginning of the season, for the usual services and accommodations for his men and cattle. Unfortunately he is eleven days late, and he has double the number of men he arranged for."

"Is it true that you are late, and came in with more men than you had indicated in your advance contract?" I asked the other man. Trough continued before the cattleman could respond.

"All I am asking is that some of his men share a room, I do not have enough rooms to give each man their own room. I am also insisting on payment in advance for the additional men at the same rate that has already been paid for the original number."

"That seems reasonable to me." I said. "How can there be a problem with such a reasonable request?"

Frustrated perhaps with the position he was in now that bluster and bullying was clearly no longer going to be effective, the cattleman's eye fell on me.

"And who are you to involve yourself in this affair?" He asked with a growl, blinking at me like an owl.

"As Agent Ash here will be happy to tell you, I am the Wizard Weaver, and I have been given the task by King Esterhal of representing him in matters of justice in this area."

"Well one Agent and one Judge and a few men with bar aprons around their waists don't leave me much inclined to be reasonable. Reasonable is not my strong suit, eh boys?" He called to his men.

"No!" came their chorus of replies, followed by rude laughter.

"You're forgetting one part." I said.

"Oh? What's that?" He said.

"The Wizard part," I replied, dipping NeedleThorn towards the men behind him, at which time they all went quickly to sleep. Those standing fell immediately to the floor with a loud crash and clatter.

"Oh yeah. Forgot that part." Runner said staring at NeedleThorn and blinking again in his owlish fashion before turning his attention to Trough. "Okay, so how much more did you say I owed you?"

I let the cattle drovers wake up quickly, with Runner there to caution them to behave.

With the drovers settled down and their breakfast being served, I sat down in the small office behind the bar with Trough and Ash to get caught up.

"This is the last of the those we were expecting this season, and they're a full half-tide late. Most come through in the summer, but this fellow with the cattle doesn't strike me as an effective leader. He probably wasted time and money getting organized, got started late, hired the wrong men and had to add more to keep the cattle in line, every problem you can imagine." Ash said.

"The Fall harvest caravans have already been running pretty steady. I feel sorry for any that have to deal with meeting Lamphor and his cattle on the road. We don't get as much business from the harvesters as we do from the cattlemen, but they are generally better behaved and less likely to start trouble," Trough added.

How's the season been, has it treated the Red Flag well?" I asked.

"Yes, its been a good season, the best in recent memory actually," Trough answered. "We're in good shape to button up for the winter season. The snows will start to cause problems in the western passes within the next Tide, and with the winter storm season starting in the east we will see only messengers, emergency travelers and those whose Talent allows them to travel without concern for the weather."

"Speaking of messages, I do have a couple that have come through for you over in my office. We should go get them," Ash said.

"I'll meet you there." I said. "I want to stop and check on Speck and Stronghand first."

The cattle pens were to the east and on the opposite side of the road from the inn, about a quarter of a mile. I found Stronghand and Speck circling the pens, trying to get the more agitated animals to eat hay that they were dropping in front of them.

Stronghold spotted me as I approached, and he gave up on his efforts in favor of talking to me.

"We laced the hay with shavings from dried Brownroot, and it'll calm 'em down if we can get them to eat it, but the beasts are just too riled up and ornery at the moment. Damn fool drovers who brought 'em in musta really laid into some of 'em towards the end."

"Let me see if I can help," I offered. With his nod, I raised NeedleThorn above my head and sent a calming wash of Light through the animals. I gave them a good scan as I did it, and saw what I thought was the real source of their agitation.

"Do you see that big one towards the center with the white head and the chewed up ear?" I asked Stronghand.

"Yeah. Is there a problem?"

"She's got a cut low on her left hindquarter, probably from a drover's whip." I told him. "I think the scent of the blood from that is what has kept them agitated for so long."

"Ah good! There's some sense to this then. We'll cut her out of the herd and get that taken care of right now. That oughta make the herd happier when whatever you did wears off."

"I can just have her come over here now, if you'd like."

So I had the wounded animal walk over to the edge of the corral and stand there unconcerned while Stronghand and Speck tended to the injury. I could have reknit the tissue and done some other Light-based healing, but there were an endless, world-filling pile of things I could do, and I had to pick and choose what I did with my gifts, or I'd be endlessly at these kinds of tasks. So I let them work on the animal and kept it pain free and unconcerned while they did. The last thing they did was wash the wound in a foul smelling liquid of some kind.

"It'll help keep the wound from festering, and the smell will mask any further blood scent if the wound breaks open again." Speck said.

"Speck, I need to go get my messages from Ash, but I'd like to buy you a glass and have a few words when you get cleaned up."

As he ran off, Stronghand looked at me and shook his head.

"Yer taking him away from me, ain't ya?"

"I'll offer. He told me he was set to leave this fall anyway. At least I'll be keeping him near."

"He's a good kid. Almost like a son to me, he's been," Stronghand said.

"Have you told him that?" I asked.

"Bear Crap and the spirits! Not yet. Best I do it before he's gone, 's what yer hinting at, ain't it?"

"Yup, he'll be a good hand to have available in a pinch, just at the other end of Weaver's Way."

"Truth!" He said, headed off to the stables.

I walked over to Ash's office and found him sitting on the edge of his desk, kissing his bride, Blush.

"Weaver!" Blush cried, turning and delivering a smacking kiss on my cheek. "I was waiting here in the office letting my husband distract me with kisses because I wanted to say hello, and thank you again for the incredible wedding gift!"

"You're welcome of course!" I said. "How is it working?"

"Its incredible!" She said. Ash got another kiss as Blush left to let us conduct our business.

"It really is, Weaver." Ash added, once we were alone. "We're the envy of the entire community."

Such a fuss over something as simple as a hot water heater. But Cor had been right, it was indeed the perfect gift. Of course it was a bit of Arborian Magic that heated the water, not electricity, but Ash and Blush didn't care about those kind of details. Once the thanks had been given and received, and Blush had left, we got down to the business of my messages.

Midhal had a fairly sophisticated system for communicating over long distances. King Esterhal had established it with the cooperation of the Wizard's guild. Similar systems existed in most of the larger kingdoms.

Since he had an Agent in every community of any size, each agent had a large Magic tube, open at both ends, that they suspended over a bin, and messages written on paper or parchment were rolled up and inserted into specially made cylinders and dropped into the top end of the cylinder. They didn't fall out the bottom of the tube of course, instead they were transported to their keyed destination point. It was a hub and spoke system, and each tube could travel to either the hub or the end point on its spoke. Of course each agent also had tubes that were keyed directly to King Esterhal's palace, bypassing the hub.

The first message was from Cap Shavrom, letting me know that they had located the Durmiters, and that their situation was not looking rosy, and that I might want to pay them a visit. It included directions to the elder Durmiter's goat farm as well as an open invitation to stop at the Shavrom enclave on our way.

The second was from the Wizard's Guild in Beletara, saying their representative would be presenting himself on the day specified, and then descended into a long stream of apologetic blather which I ignored. I shared the basic information with Ash. I had already warned him and Trough to expect someone. This made it definite.

"When did the first message come in?" I asked him.