Dabbler knew good and well that Zorlond’s scrying stone was like a magic mirror, and had to be invoked in rhyme. So that’s exactly what he did, taking care to make it look good for his ladies. Here’s what he chanted:
At that, the stony surface of the scryer smoothed, almost as if the fog had been blown off a frosted window, and words appeared upon it:
“Oh great,” muttered Gidget. “It’s a pay oracle.”
“Hey, it’s not like these things are self-powered,” said Dabbler, investing the required amount of mana in the stone. “All right, then, rock, let’s hear your talk,” he said to the scryer.
An image formed on the surface of the stone. An image of a totally unfamiliar individual with haunted eyes and a haggard, even hermit-like air. Neither Dabbler, nor Dolly, nor Gidget, had ever seen this person before, but somehow each of them knew, to a dead certainty, who it was. The “feel” was unmistakable—and chilling. This was Zorlond’s Original.
“Hi,” said the image. “I’m not an Avatar, but I play one in the BE AddVenture. Right now, my other self is suicidally depressed, violently angry, blind drunk, and locked in his suite. I had to get the scrying stone out of there so he wouldn’t have a back way out. Contrary to popular belief, we Originals are not all-powerful in the AddVenture, especially away from our keyboards, which is why we have patsies like you. In fact, I blew my whole power budget bringing you the rock.
“Now then, you’re probably wondering why you, so I’ll tell you. ’Cause my impression of you is you’re a more or less trustworthy sort who won’t try to deconstruct the thing to see what makes it tick, or try to use it in some grandiose plot to get more power. Plus, this is all your fault. If you hadn’t blown the whistle for D.J. on the whole Avatar past life gig, my Avatar would probably never have tumbled to his and wouldn’t be in psychotic meltdown right now. So you get the booby prize, balanced at an angle that should make my displeasure abundantly clear to your famously unprotected tootsies. Guard it well, or you’ll be hearing from me.
“Don’t think D.J.’s getting off the hook, either. Someone’s gotta fix all this and I can’t, so she’s been elected. If she succeeds, my representative, or a relative thereof, will come back for the stone at some point. If not it’ll melt away to nothingness in a week or so and you’re scot free. Now if you’ll excuse me, I expect to have some Troubleshooters to trouble in the near future....”
The image vanished, leaving the stone inert once more.
“Well,” mused Dabbler, “that explains a few things. Poor Zorlond. Gone bonkers, has he? And presumably from remembering his Character past, if I’m understanding his Original correctly. I hope that’s not going to be the norm for Avatars who dig into their backgrounds; I understand half the Authors Backstage have been whining at Adama to research for them who they used to be....”
“Dab,” said Dolly, worried, “you and Gidget aren’t in danger, are you? I mean, you know who you were, now, right?”
Dabbler and Gidget exchanged uncomfortable glances. It was Gidget who answered. “Yeah,” she said. “But it’s not like, you know, we remember anything from the way we were before we got to be who we are. Or in my case, before I got to be JigSaw. It’s just, you know, this kind of interesting thing, sort of kinky in a way—”
Dolly’s face clouded. “Yes, I know, the whole sibling thing, I can dig it, I’m a Southern girl myself, you know. But you know what I mean. You’re not going to start getting ... curious about it, are you? Especially now that you know what happened to Zorlond?”
“Hardly,” said Dabbler. “I mean, we were both boys in our former lives, you know. Sex among siblings is one thing, sex among same sex siblings—”
Gidget’s hand went to her mouth in mock horror. “Oo,” she said, “do you think that we did—“
“You’re awful,” Dabbler said. “No, I don’t, and if we did I have no intention of finding out.” Resolutely turning away from that subject, he snapped his fingers and made a big, locked strongbox appear around the scrying stone. “There,” he pronounced. “That takes care of that. Now, I want you girls to watch that thing like a hawk while I’m out.”
“You’re leaving?” cried Dolly in alarm. “Why? Zorlond’s Original wanted you to guard it, remember? What if he finds out you’re gone?”
“What about it?” the barefoot Author challenged. “He admitted himself he blew his power budget getting the stone here, so what’s he going to do to me? Nuts to him, I say, I’m calling that bluff. All I owe him is a sore foot, while his Avatar’s my friend.”
“And how is walking out on babysitting his rock being friendly?”
“I’m not walking out on him,” Dabbler explained patiently. “You’re here. What I’m doing is hustling my tail down to the Troubleshooters’ Office to help D.J. cure Zorlond.”
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Mon Aug 23 15:35:39 2004
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