Targraph After the Bombing - part 1
From Eleprin’s Diary
About 30 seconds after the Beit Ha-Am bombing, Light cycle day 2, 13:00, blue day - Targraph
Mum’s first reaction to the explosion was to try to get out of Targraph. We: me, Mum and Printorac, were eating at an outside table of a cafe and had been watching the state opening of parliament on a large internet screen. It was blue day, which always seemed a bit gloomy and ominous to me. People screamed and several alarms started blaring. I was thinking if I should really care about the government being killed, but I snapped out of it and used calming spells on some of the more hysterical people nearby using my avatar power. A man went past in a car, screaming. The car came quickly to a stop and I suspected that Printorac had used his avatar power. I realized all the vehicles that had been moving seemed to be stopping, a couple crashing with a screech of conflicting protective spells. I hurried to finish my meal and drink, as I was hungry and thirsty. Mum, being the law-abiding citizen (mostly, being a hipsickah she hasn’t really thought through her ideology) she was, wanted to pay our bill before leaving.
Some people were coming out from the indoor portion of the cafe and others were jumping over the low wall onto the street.
“You’ll have to wait to pay!” said a waiter. “Our billing machine’s down.”
I realized the internet screen no longer seemed to be working.
“EMP,” said Printorac. “It fried everything electrical that was switched on, those alarms probably weren’t destroyed because they were activated by the shock wave, which arrived after the EMP.”
“You mean a nuke?” asked a man who must have overheard.
“Seems rather small for a nuke,” said Printorac, “perhaps more like a plasma bomb.”
“They’re illegal!” said the man.
“So are nukes,” said Printorac.
“You’re a mage,” Mum said to Printorac, “can’t you do something?”
“A mage!” a nearby woman screamed and I put a calming spell on her.
“It’s probably your fault,” said a man.
“There are lots of magi,” said Printorac. “Not to mention the Mysterious Monsters.”
“He only got equipped because somebody put a spell on him,” said Mum, “so he isn’t psychic and isn’t a very powerful mage.”
She was terrified of magic and psychic powers and was clearly trying to downplay the fact that I was now the guardian of a mage who was also my boyfriend.
“Don’t say I’m a difficult boy,” Printorac quietly grumbled.
“There are Winemaker fornicating teleporters too!” said the woman who didn’t like magi.
“There was that teleporter who interrupted him,” said another woman, referring to the president, well vice president, acting president, whatever’s speech.
“The Monsters killed the leaders of Benai Nibeyim,” I said, “and some magi and Haprihagfen. I think they’re trying to ...”
“Don’t the Monsters have teleporters!” said the nuke man. “And somebody destroyed Navinuharbilag. Probably Winemakers.”
“I know lots of Winemakers!” said Mum. “And none of them are teleporters or would have the faintest idea how to destroy a city!”
This was what she truly believed. She was wrong on a couple of counts but I had no intention of trying to correct her, ever.
“Can’t you fix this?” Mum asked Printorac.
“I can’t magically repair fried electronics,” he said. “Nobody can. I can move the vehicle’s that are blocking the road though.”
About 3 minutes after the Beit Ha-Am bombing
Fortunately we had cash to pay our bill, once the cafe manager decided to stop being stupid. An advantage of not wanting people keeping track of you was always having cash. Our car had been parked at the time of the explosion so it still worked. I put the cute little Echeveria in the trunk. Mum drove. I couldn’t, legally, because the transponders in the road weren’t working so we couldn’t use autopilot. Printorac used magic to move the vehicles that had stopped in the street to the side or to some place where they weren’t obstructing the road.
We were trying to get to the harbor to catch a ferry to Vindian but I thought anywhere other than Rendamar or Central Island would be good. As we’d all spent some time in Targraph recently, we knew the way although it didn’t take a genius to figure out that you basically went down hill. Unfortunately everybody else who had a working vehicle seemed to have the same idea and the streets quickly got blocked. Printorac had to keep running ahead to find the obstructions and remove them.
From Clindar's Journal
About 4 minutes after Beit Ha-Am bombing, Light cycle day 2, 13:04, blue day - Rendamar
We’d just decided to go to Targraph and offer to help with the mess there (although we’d been busy sorting out the mess in Rendamar) and started heading upstairs to change into suitable clothing. Suddenly, an anavah materialized at the bottom of the stairs. I turned, expecting to see Breeze or Ice. Instead I was surprised to see Harakard. She was dressed in a sari with a harness, like most Paxian women.
“Don’t tell me,” I said, “your plan had a core meltdown?”
“I thought I’d find a sister naked,” she said in the Kledris language.
“I’m not a naked,” said Rilleticket, “I’m a hairy without much hair!”
“You’re a naked from Kledris?” I asked, surprised. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been, considering her tendency to speak the Kledris language.
“You must have some naked ancestry,” Harakard said to Rilleticket, “on both sides if both your parents are hairy.”
“Probably because some of my ancestors were slaves who got raped by their masters,” said Rilleticket.
“How do you know her?” asked Dwendra.
“She’s the one who was helping those Aramatoran soldiers,” I said.
“Whatever,” said Harakard. “I want you to read my mind carefully so you will know I’m telling the truth.”
“OK,” said Rilleticket.
“My name’s Harakard, daughter of Jaramag. I’m the anavah who interrupted Guldren’s speech. I was trying to help. I didn’t set off the bomb, at least not intentionally. That came as a huge shock to me. I don’t know who was responsible for that but, I expect like most people, I have suspicions. Got that?”
“Yes,” said Rilleticket.
“Did you notice anything unusual?” I asked.
“The security in the chamber was very lax. I did re-enable them just before I left. I’ve never been there before, so I don’t know what’s normal. The thing that struck me most was how few psychics there were. I really think you need to make your political system less korbarist. Guldren was giving off very strange vibes. Obviously he was close to Tuld and friendly with some of the Aramatoran royal family and maybe some other friends of his were killed or went missing as a result of Siglanti, Rendamar or Navinuharbilag.”
Before anybody could formulate any response, Harakard dematerialized.
From Eleprin’s Diary
About 30 minutes after the Beit Ha-Am bombing, Light cycle day 2, 13:33, blue day - Targraph
We turned into a larger road and found some cars blocking it. Printorac was just getting out to find the obstruction when I felt a power explosion. An anav materialized just above the central divider in the middle of the road and dropped onto it. He was dressed in normal Paxian, male clothing except that he had a tabard over his top with a bunch of grapes on it. I knew Winemaker acolytes sometimes wore these in services (although me and Breeze wore old-fashioned, black and white striped clothing instead). He also wore a mask with transparent material across his eyes (probably a magic detector) but it didn’t hide his curly, blond hair or the light skin on his arms and legs, suggesting he was a bennis (his hair was long enough to cover his ears). My first thought was that he was a Mysterious Monster but then I realized that he was emitting kind, friendly vibes. It occurred to me that the Monsters’ anavim hadn’t emitted these sort of emotion and personality vibes at all and, unlike all the other anavim I’d tried it on, their minds were hard to read.
People screamed and tried to hide.
Then the anav did something I’d never heard of a Mysterious Monster anav doing. He spoke. He said the Semic word for, “Peace,” which nearly everybody knew. Then he continued in fluent Faharni with a vague Central Island accent, “A plasma bomb has gone off in the parliament building. Everybody inside is probably dead but people are trying to find survivors. There’s no radiation or poison gas so you should be safe. We don’t know who’s responsible. Police, healers, magi, soldiers and a group of concerned citizens are deploying to help. I’m noting down any magi I find and you may get instructions soon.”
“Was that woman who interrupted Guldren an anavah?” I asked in Semic.
The anav turned to me and teleported to beside our car. Mum and several other people screamed. Mum scrunched down in the driver’s seat, trying to make herself as small as possible.
“We don’t know,” said the anav, also in Semic, “we’re still trying to identify her. Eleprin and Printorac isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And you are?” asked Printorac.
The anav dematerialized.
“Better get whatever’s blocking this road moved,” said Printorac and launched himself into the air with a repulsion spell and flew down the street using his avatar power (although psychokinesis doesn’t work on living tissue, it’s still subject to the laws of motion so he could move himself by trying to move something heavy, like a building or the planet - when he destroyed buildings, he pushed different parts of the building in different directions so he didn’t move).
“Show off!” I muttered.
I looked at Mum and realized that she was terrified, breathing heavily, very pale and staring at where the anav had been. I’d never seen her more frightened so seeing this anav teleport had scared her more than being near multiple anavim she hadn’t seen teleport or things that killed lots of people.
“It’s OK Mum,” I said, putting a calming spell on her and a number of other nearby people who seemed traumatized, “he was a friendly teleporter.”
“Did you have to speak to him?” Mum asked. “How did he know your names?”
“He probably had a magic detector in that mask so he could tell that Printorac was a mage and there aren’t many magi that young. I was with him and there aren’t many short-haired, faharni girls. Perhaps we should rethink our hair styles, they were unusual when we started having them and they’ve become very unfashionable since, which rather defeats the object of the exercize.”
“How did you know he spoke Semic?”
“Breeze told me.”
“How did she know?”
“She’s a magis.”
“Are you alright?” asked a handsome, bennis hipsick who was accompanied by a young, bennis hipsickah. “I’m a nurse.”
“I’m an apprentice healer,” I said, “she just doesn’t like magic and psychic powers.”
“Fornicating Winemakers,” said the bennis woman.
“I guess this is what happens if you force psychics to marry each other,” said the man.
That was uncomfortably close to the truth.
“Winemakers don’t force anybody to get married,” I said. “Anyway, Winemaker teleporters are required to obey strict laws.”
“That’s what Ice says,” said the man who was clearly skeptical about this.
“Why can’t other Winemaker leaders be like Molgren,” said the woman.
“He’s a heretic,” I said.
“I think he’s more reasonable than Ice though,” said Mum, “and not liking you doesn’t make him a heretic.”
“Not believing in Winemaker scripture does though,” I said.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t tolerate teleporters,” said the bennis woman.
