Mana Pool Snippets - Keystone

Part 6

The screen cleared and an alien head formed. This was a Creosian, a three-eyed half humaniod, half tripodic being with an insidious amount of quills on his head not remotely close to Dallas the porcupine’s quills. The alien licked his mouth and yawned. At public events, the quills were combed back professionally. Jaruka smirked; he caught him in the morning without his Galactic Council robes.

“Waking me up before dawn,” Councilman Denverbay said. “If I did not know better, I swear it was a Council matter.”

“At least the transmission header mask works,” Jaruka said. “I got something you need to hear before I told Xi’Tra.”

“Can this wait until I’m awake and fed? And this better not be about your new ship.”

“Oh please, I’m not in the mood to talk about the ship,” Jaruka badgered. “You and Brill always say ‘when it’s done, it’s done.’ I get the point. I’m talking about the terrans.”

Denverbay was in his personal office at his family home, in Salajon Valley on Creos. The morning light was nearly peeking past the mountains behind the councilman.

“I suppose you increased your intelligence gathering,” Denverbay mentioned. “You’re recent reports failed the Archive’s interests, not to mention the way station’s manager above you.”

“He’s an ass.”

“And so are you, whether or not you’re sober. Are you?”

“Just had a few sips.” Jaruka held up the glass.

“Spare me. What did you find?”

Jaruka sat back down at the desk’s chair. “For starters, it was Scott and Katie that found it, and a little girl that recently transformed.”

He began telling Denverbay the events leading up to that night, then finished with a long drink, emptying his glass.

“Impressive, huh?” Jaruka asked as he filled his glass again.

“That is impressive. Any chance what this spell is?”

“It’s a couple spells in one,” Jaruka started. “It’s an endowment spell from the Castelazan monks, when a magical creature gives temporary magical energy to both magical and non-magical. Heavy enchanted item users. But this works as a triggering spell, a forced keystone, thus forcing the transformation prematurely.”

Denverbay slowly blinked. “You do know that my species is not magical, and this is a long time I heard any magical explanation out of you.”

“Told you I got something. There is a way to not only break them of the enthrallment, but turn humans with or without their word.”

Denverbay’s head tipped back as agreeing without a word.

“And also, what’s your opinion on the hidden spells in the book?” Jaruka asked.

Denverbay brought his hands together, six fingers total, each with a claw enough to cut the skindreads right off Jaruka’s head. “That it may be a coincidence,” he answered.

Jaruka became furious that he threw his glass across the ship, shattering against the wall. “This is not coincidence. Can’t you see?”

“Mr. Teal. You are talking to someone without a slightest hint of what magic feels or does. This sort of thing has to be explained slowly, patiently.”

“Well this is not patients you idiot. Look at this.” Jaruka grabbed the camera on top of the briefcase, tethered to the lid, and aimed it at the desk. “There are four more hidden spells and rituals in the spellbook. One of them involves the crystals but the poem is too cryptic to understand. And don’t get me started on the poem forms humans have. I will say this and I will say it again: this is an artificial GMT event. Somebody is behind all this and they know the humans inside and out down to their literary arts.” He slammed the camera back on the lid. “You take this in consideration because if they accelerate their transformations, I might be begging you to take me to court.”

Over the years, the Galactic Council is a win/loose streak for speakers. You might not know what answer you get unless your argument is valid and solid. Others succeeded, and others failed. All part of heavy checks and balances between the members. But convincing one outside the Council, like Denverbay, is hard to accomplish. Denverbay’s nickname is the Hammer, after slamming and breaking gavels after high-profile cases and passing on harsh sentences.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Denverbay asked.

“Now were getting somewhere,” Jaruka said after drinking. “How’s ‘bout that team you’re forming?”

“I’m still working on it.” No sign of lie in that voice.

“Make it faster, but I want to people in the team, people that I know that can do the job.”

“Who?” Denverbay asked.

“There is this guy I know. Domoja Balcusten, a Faldeg sorcerer. He used to be my professor at the Academy on magical theory. This guy is also a high honcho expert on GMTs. You look for him and bring him in, also tell him I said hi.”

“And you’re sure he’s an expert?”

“Me and Domoja fought in the Goomash Raid,” Jaruka said with a level voice.

“Oh, that political mess.” Denverbay lowered his hands and typed away, hopefully the notes Jaruka explained.

“Also I don’t know any person in the galaxy, but find the smartest expert on crystals. I need to know if there is anything else in these ‘dormant’ Wave crystals.”

“I already have a couple hundred candidates for it, Jaruka.”

“Oh, good.” Jaruka smirked. “At least you’re doing something at least.”

“Anything else?” Denverbay asked.

“One last thing,” Jaruka said with a smile. “Make sure the paint job is what I asked for.”

The connection was cut before Denverbay cared to answer. Jaruka didn’t take that personally, but loved the ploy of annoying the one person that put him in this situation.

Then he made another call to Xi’Tra. The screen flickered to a Zimmi female, an anthro-lizard. She apparently was wide-awake, noon-ish compared to the light coming from the window, and still wore bedclothes.

“I had a hunch you would be calling sometime,” Xi’Tra said. “I’ve been waiting for new reports from you for a while. You need to step it up or else.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. It’s hard enough people recognize my DNA mask now. But I got something here, and it’s something you have got to hear.”