(no subject)
Sep. 20th, 2007 12:05 pm“All right,” Ray said, locking up and sealing the last box. “I think that’s it.”
Senji shook his head. “I still think this is a mistake,” he warned. “I haven’t translocated anybody in centuries. And certainly not to somewhere I”ve never seen, on another continent entirely.”
“I’m willing to take that chance,” Ray said. “The tavern’s extremely congenial to people using magic. Sorcery ought to be even simpler. You concentrate on that description I gave you, I concentrate on my memory of the place while I hold onto the napkin that was in my pocket when I left, and between the two of us we ought to be able to get one fully functional act of sorcery out of it.” True, Ray had no sorcerous ability whatsoever- aside from the apparent ability to get forty years older and neither die nor wrinkle nor go grey- and true, it was at the end of the universe rather than Riva, but this was a point-to-point teleportation, not one that relied on passing through the standard three dimensions. Hopefully Senji’s Will and Ray’s philotic connections would be enough to do the trick.
The backpack was killing him. He’d winnowed down forty years of alchemical, mathematical, and esoteric notes to only the most vital and unusual ones, plus everything he’d ever written to Romana, and tamped it all down with a box of some of the more interesting things he’d been able to synthesize in the alchemical labs. The total mess weighed twice as much as a proton pack, but what could you do? With any luck it’d be off his back in a few seconds.
He shook his head and tried not to think any more conditional sentences. “Okay,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s blow this pop stand.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Senji complained- but he closed his eyes and concentrated. Ray could almost feel the drawing-in of the little alchemist’s will. He could definitely hear him draw breath to speak-
There was a knock at the door. “WHAT?” Senji bellowed.
And Ray disappeared.
Senji shook his head. “I still think this is a mistake,” he warned. “I haven’t translocated anybody in centuries. And certainly not to somewhere I”ve never seen, on another continent entirely.”
“I’m willing to take that chance,” Ray said. “The tavern’s extremely congenial to people using magic. Sorcery ought to be even simpler. You concentrate on that description I gave you, I concentrate on my memory of the place while I hold onto the napkin that was in my pocket when I left, and between the two of us we ought to be able to get one fully functional act of sorcery out of it.” True, Ray had no sorcerous ability whatsoever- aside from the apparent ability to get forty years older and neither die nor wrinkle nor go grey- and true, it was at the end of the universe rather than Riva, but this was a point-to-point teleportation, not one that relied on passing through the standard three dimensions. Hopefully Senji’s Will and Ray’s philotic connections would be enough to do the trick.
The backpack was killing him. He’d winnowed down forty years of alchemical, mathematical, and esoteric notes to only the most vital and unusual ones, plus everything he’d ever written to Romana, and tamped it all down with a box of some of the more interesting things he’d been able to synthesize in the alchemical labs. The total mess weighed twice as much as a proton pack, but what could you do? With any luck it’d be off his back in a few seconds.
He shook his head and tried not to think any more conditional sentences. “Okay,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s blow this pop stand.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Senji complained- but he closed his eyes and concentrated. Ray could almost feel the drawing-in of the little alchemist’s will. He could definitely hear him draw breath to speak-
There was a knock at the door. “WHAT?” Senji bellowed.
And Ray disappeared.