Surviving Arkadia

Gertrude met us at the Gondola station. She was surrounded by a squad of the archive assistants. They took the tent and the pile of chests and lugged them away in the direction of one of the Safehold entrances. Gertrude sent us to meet Saleh in the canteen but first she gave us some good news.

“Ursula has been looking over your notes, Petra, and she’s declared that today is a no rationing day. For reasons of morale. The kitchen has garlic potatoes and those sausages you like.”

We did not wait for additional orders. Jethro and I headed for the canteen with as much haste as was polite. Right up until we were round a corner and out of sight. Then we ran.

###

The rush of breakfast was mostly over when we got there but there were still plenty of occupied tables and the counter was fully staffed.

Saleh had seized the end of one of the long tables for himself and us. He was getting stuck into a large plate of spiced mutton. His inexhaustible carafe was on the table but there was also a large, silver coffee pot and three mugs.

Jethro and I filled our plates with potatoes, cabbage and my favourite spicy sausages that Amris insisted were basically currywurst. It was only when we joined Saleh that I noticed that Amris was here too.

Amris was further down the table looking rougher than I’d ever seen him. He had a huge mug of coffee that was so strongly brewed it was singeing my nose hairs from eight feet away. He was clutching the mug in both hands and trying to answer the questions of one of Agnes’ assistants. The assistant, a skinny boy in his late teens wearing smart green clothes and one of the black ribbons around his arm, had a pile of brightly coloured ribbons in front of him and he kept holding them up for comparison. It seemed that in spite of what Agnes had said someone was already worrying about Beast-kin being able to tell the ribbons apart.

I turned my attention back to my breakfast. Ursula was right, of course, not to ration the food. Not only did we have better access to fresh ingredients but we were on the eve of battle. No-one should face death with the taste of dried rations in their mouth if it could possibly be avoided.

“What has Agnes signed us up for,” said Jethro, distracting me from my currywurst.

“We have to move a…” Saleh looked around us as if debating how much he should reveal in such a public place, “device from the University to Agnes’s tent.”

“And that’s a three person job?” I said.

“It’s bulky and awkward,” said Saleh. “We might even need help to get it down some of the staircases.”

“Now I get why Agnes wanted us specifically,” said Jethro.

###

The device had already been boxed up in a protective crate so sturdy looking that I began to worry about the worth of the object inside. It also looked solid enough that I wasn’t worried about dropping it on the floor but I was a lot more worried about some of the other things that could happen to it if we tried the techniques we’d learned while working for the Mayor.

The crate was as long as I am tall, about six inches deep, and just over two feet wide. I knew it would be heavy just looking at it, because the crate alone would weigh a fair bit, but whatever was inside was also solid enough that together they weighed about two thirds what I weighed.

“How fragile is it?” I said as Jethro got to work making a cradle harness of rope to carry it.

“It’s a remote viewing mirror, so pretty fragile,” said Saleh.

“Why didn’t you just stuff it in your sleeves?” I said as I inspected the windows. I was looking for one that the crate would fit through without having to chisel the entire window frame out. However I was willing to resort to the chisel if I had to.

“It’s a higher tier than my dimensional storage,” he said.

That stopped me in my tracks. This sounded like some major part of the system that I’d missed. “Magic objects have a tier?” I said.

“All objects have a tier,” said Saleh. I could hear him settling in to deliver a lecture, which I did not mind at all. “A lot of factors feature in the tier calculation but the dominant one is how much source was used in the creation of the item. So most non magical objects have a zero tier. But Masterwork items, like that new Messer that Asser made for you, start at tier one.”

“It’s runic Damascus,” I said.

“Then at least tier two, probably tier three, knowing Asser. Well, a dimensional storage container also has a tier and it can only hold items with a lower tier. There’s no limit on the number of items as long as all of them are of a lesser tier. An empty dimensional storage container can contain one item of the same tier as it but then you can’t add anything else, even zero tier items. So if you’re ever trying to put something in a dimensional storage container and you feel some resistance you have to stop.”

I found a window that looked large enough and threw it open. There was no helpful balcony but when I stood on the sill and leaned out as far as I could. I could see some promising looking features on the roof above us.

“What if you don’t stop? What happens if you try to force a higher tier thing into dimensional storage? I said, as I swung myself up onto the small pitched roof above the window.

“Please don’t ever do that.” Saleh remained by the window but his voice was starting to sound a bit shaky. Maybe I should have warned him that I was going out the window. “If you succeed in forcing a higher tier item through the resistance it causes a cascade feedback loop.”

“That sounds bad,” I said as I scrambled across the roof, tying the rope to a couple of solid anchor points.

“It is bad. As the higher tier item crosses the threshold into the pocket dimension the storage spell glitches out, forcing it to the other side of the threshold, so that it exists on both sides at once but slightly out of temporal phase with itself. The item gets stuck in a time loop and goes round and round the loop filling the dimension with partial copies of itself until eventually the storage item ruptures and sprays bits of magic shrapnel everywhere.”

“You know,” I said as I swung back into the room, “words that mean worse than bad exist. You’re allowed to use them. No one will think less of you for it.”

###

Lowering the mirror down the outside of the University building was extremely uneventful but I was glad when the task was over. Carrying it across the Citadel to the Safehold entrance was relatively easy. The Safehold stairs were built with the idea of getting large groups of people down them quickly so getting it down the many stairs was tiring but not hard.

The only genuinely difficult part of the entire journey was getting it down the narrow corridors to the Council Room where Agnes had set up her tent. That was sweaty and unpleasant and we had to keep stopping to let people get by.

By the time we reached the Council Room the three of us were thoroughly done with the job, we were sweaty, and sore, and snapping at each other. Agnes and Marie met us at the door. Agnes took the crate and carried it inside. Marie blocked our path and said, “You must be hungry after such exertions. Would you like to come with me for some refreshments? You’ll be welcome back in the Command Centre once you’ve all recovered your good humours.”

I might have objected but Saleh said “Ration Free Day,” into my ear. That meant they could break out the sugar. That might mean cake. Or pastries.

###

It did mean cake. Also hot chocolate.