Reflection, p.7
Reflection, page 7
part #2 of The Infected - Mirror Man Series
Cindy kicked him again. There was a little, almost sly, smile on her lips.
“We should get out of the tubs soon. We need to get ready early, since we’re guests here. Come on, everyone. I’ve been getting some good ideas as to how to dress you all for this. By that, I mean shamelessly stealing from the minds of some of the best fashion designers in Noram.”
It took a while to get them all dried, combed, brushed and in the right outfits for the meal they were going to. It wasn’t a royal ball or even a party really. At the same time, they weren’t supposed to look poor or out of keeping with social norms. It meant strange suits for the men and fine dresses for the ladies. They weren’t gowns though, just nicely colored and form fitting things that were slightly old fashioned in style. Things that would have been popular before Richard was even born as far as the cut went.
The men were in something closer to doublets and hose, however. It left him feeling funny, even if he didn’t have to sport a cod-piece all night. The others were in variations of different colors. Keith for instance was in lavender for some reason. It looked fine enough on him, if a little soft. Price, their new Agent pal was in dark blue velvet, while Yi was in stark black.
Interestingly, Richard was dressed in silver again. It was a bit more subdued, while still being metallic looking. On the great side, he actually got to have real trousers with his version of things. Part of that was down to the fact that he normally wore a business suit when visiting there, he thought. It had set a precedence.
They went to the meal about half an hour early, which was expected, it seemed. That meant they all sat, or milled around in a holding room, off the dining hall. Drinks were being passed around, with most of them having enough alcohol in them to light a funeral pyre, if they weren’t careful. On noticing that, he caught Cindy’s eye and shook his head.
They couldn’t afford to be too drunk. Especially since some of them might end up being loud mouths if they were. That meant arranging for something else that looked right. Water would do in a pinch, he thought.
There was a nod back and after a few minutes the trays of alcohol started to miss his crew. Especially the younger girls. Keith looked to have something harder than water in his crystal goblet. Yi on the other hand had something that looked more like juice. Little Bridget had something that smelled like berries when he walked past her. Rachel on the other hand clearly had wine.
“Take it easy there? We need our wits about us here.” It was too hard to explain what he meant without going into things that they didn’t need aired yet.
The woman smiled at him and tilted her head. Sexily. She was small and thin enough to be cute, it simply wasn’t what she was going for in the moment. Then, she didn’t, from what he’d seen. She had two functions. Either being a bit sexual or totally locked on. It was clear she wasn’t picking the second one for her party face.
“Don’t worry. I can’t get drunk. At all. I could chug this for an hour and nothing would happen. My metabolic rate is just too fast for that.”
It was news to him, so he nodded.
“Watch the others then? We don’t need issues.” It was bad enough that he kept talking when he should have been running Cindy and Lydia as their leads for the mission.
Bridget, who was the most powerful being in the room at the moment, if not on the planet, at least physically speaking, touched his arm.
“On it. I’ll make the rounds. You should go and get with Tim and his people. He’s about to come into the room.” She looked around, with the man himself and Marcia Turner walking in with linked arms.
Only this wasn’t their Director, being a bit taller, by about a foot, as well as a bit more tanned looking. Darkly enough that it seemed nearly exotic.
Richard waved, even if he was technically closer to Tor than Tim Baker. He’d met the man and they’d been friendly enough. Plus, if worse came to worse this was the man that might help them out with what they needed just because it was a thing to do. Hopefully that wouldn’t be needed. It never hurt to have contingency plans.
“Tim… Patricia!” It was a bit casual for him to use their names like that, given the rules there. Except that, instead of being offended, he got a hug from the woman and a slap on the back from the man. They didn't bother bowing, which meant something.
Hopefully that they were accepting him as a friend.
“Richard!” That came from Tim, who turned just as Tor and several red robed mages came in. There was a dark skinned blonde girl as well, who looked to be about twenty or so, dressed up for a party. She was tall, but in a nice pink dress that was filled out with frills and fluff. Mrs. Baker, Rich thought.
Unlike the last time they’d met, the girl looked horrible. Oh, her face was made up well enough, but there was raw sadness in her eyes. Probably due to her having been one of the people that had lost one of the Infected people being changed.
He hadn’t really connected that before but waved at them. There were five of them in their party. Two younger men and a woman who was about Lydia’s age as well. They all seemed Chinese, more or less. Tor led them all over. Unlike Tim and Patricia, these people were incredibly somber in how they moved.
Taking a line from Patricia’s book, he moved in to give the ladies a hug, even if it felt incredibly improper to him. Tor didn’t slap him in the head, just accepting his own clap on the shoulder. The two male red robed fellows did as well.
“Thanks for coming! Did you tell your friends here what the plan was?”
Tor looked away then and shook his head.
“No. I’m pretty sure they expect to be sent off to prison, if not hanged for their failure. I didn't know what I was allowed to say.”
That got him to blink, since he would have told his people what he knew regardless of what the new rules might be.
“Nothing like either of those. We brought some people for you to work on. Special ones. Easy enough changes. Really if any of you feel creative we can probably get Nan and Peggy in on this as well. Something like glowing skin or an electrical aura around them? The tricky part, the one that you might refuse is what I want to get with Erath over.”
Everyone looked at him then, with Patricia Baker touching his left arm.
“Something… secret?”
He took her meaning, or part of it. Then shook his head.
“No. Just hard. Maybe impossible. He mentioned when he did the work on me that he could try giving me the correct number of arms and eyes. I said we might try that later. It’s later. People need to see that it can be done, safely.” His voice was a bit dry as he spoke. Relaxed. As if it weren’t going to be a large issue.
After less than a moment, Timon Baker stared at him, speaking rather firmly.
“You need to hide who you are? You’re with the IPB, so some kind of mission in your own world. Looking different like that would be accepted as being Infected there. So, you aren’t trying to hide that. In fact, you want to accentuate that for whatever the task at hand is. You mentioned these changes to Tor as being temporary. That tells me you’re not in too much trouble, or at least don’t want us here to think you are. Meaning that it most likely isn’t a grave threat to you, even if this would be a rather significant alteration. So… In part this is really about what you just told us. Making certain our people can see it being done. We’ll need to go carefully on that. Which is why you requested both Tor and myself for it as well?”
Richard smiled.
“That’s pretty good. When we get back there is a mission. The idea is to go in without seeming like we work for the IPB. None of our people have four arms or eyes. Really, I should get the whole Ysidril look, if it’s possible. Just for the sake of doing it. If it won’t kill me, that is. It can all be cosmetic. At the same time, we can pop that up on your net here and show everyone how safe it is. Then in a few weeks, I come back and we undo it. Not that we have to prove anything to the people back home that way. The waiting list is in the thousands already. We were just worried that some of your folks here, the ones that had the hardest projects, might be feeling down about it. Some of the kids volunteered to help with that. So that you won’t feel like you can’t do it. We can make those as easy or as hard as you want.”
There was a short burst of Cantonese from Mrs. Baker. The blonde one, not Patricia. It occurred to him that a whole lot of the women there that night would have that name. The trick was that he didn't know what to call the lady with Tor other than that.
She looked at him then, seeming almost ready to cry.
“What if I fail again? What if someone else dies because of me?”
No one else spoke at all then. Leaving it to him. That meant he needed to make something up that would leave Mrs. Baker feeling fine about doing the work. At least the first time.
“Oh… Um… Here. Sinclair! Over here!” He had to wave, since a lot of the people in the room were taller than he was. Calling the girl over got Cindy in the mix as well.
Which meant that she spoke first.
“Hey! Alyssa, Trice, Tim and Tor! Is it time for the secret then, Richard?”
He nodded. The woman would know what he was thinking. Possibly better than he did at the moment.
“Part of it. The bit about Sinclair?”
That got a grin from Cindy. One that seemed more than a bit vicious.
“Right. About eight months ago Sinclair here ran away from the IPB. That’s forgivable. The problem is she also betrayed us to our enemies at the same time, which isn’t. So, to make up for that she’s volunteering to work with you. If you kill her, then you do.”
The slightly younger girl stiffened a bit, seeming scared suddenly.
Which had Cindy going on. Sighing a bit as she looked at Richard, who was about to call her on what she was doing.
“Which, me being a bit mean to her still aside, won’t happen. You just tried one of the hardest things to do last time, Alley. I’m not certain that anyone would have done better given that, not even Tim. Sinclair just needs a new face for the mission coming up. That way she can change back later and not be identified by anyone. We could just use disguise amulets for it, since we have loads of those, of course. So this is mainly about giving you someone to play with.”
The rather well-endowed woman, who was better than cute, nodded then.
“So, it won’t matter that much if I fail and kill her?” There was less fear in her voice then. It was almost playful.
That meant Rich got to agree, which was the best way to make friends, most days.
“Exactly. Don’t do that though. We might need her for what’s coming up. I was thinking we could do things up right, though. Maybe with an eye patch? Thin but darker skinned. Asian…” He looked around and strained his brain to get the right name out in time. “Vagish? A bit more manly seeming. If she’s seen it will be useful not to call too much attention to herself. Right now she’s too cute for covert work.”
Sinclair didn’t say much, just looking a bit freaked out still.
Then the others were introduced to their working team. It was interesting, since Peggy was more than willing to go with an uglier face than she had and Nan sort of blushed.
“Um… what about being really pretty? I’ve never done that. I’ve been homely most of my life. I need to be a fighter though, so that might not work.”
Tor tilted his head then, looking down at them all.
“Get Tim to do the work on that. That’s his basic style. Overdone good looks that push the boundaries of reality. Maybe with the full pheromone effect? That and some other protections, if she has to fight. We don’t want our people going into battle with less than we can give them.”
It was interesting, since one of the men that had a patient die on him was selected to work on Price, even though their plan was to do something similar power wise. Only with more strength and speed, as well as near invulnerability. The trick there was that the man needed to be really distinctive, as far as looks went.
There was a somber nod from the mage when he heard that. One that spoke of planning, rather than fear. It was a good thing to see.
Chapter three
It was interesting to see that the fight that broke out just after the meal wasn’t one that involved any of the IPB people at all. No Baker family members or mages, either.
Instead it was a different Count than their host, one named Boris something or other, assaulting a smaller fellow who seemed to be some kind of merchant. At least that was what it sounded like to Richard. In truth, all of that information was coming from the man who was both attacking with some vigor and foaming at the mouth more than a bit. From the screaming it seemed legit enough.
The Count was pretty certain that the other man had killed his brother. Though it was possible that someone else had done it and this guy was being blamed by proxy. It was hard to tell, to be honest.
“You fiend! I’ll kill you for it! You killed my brother! I’d challenge you to a duel, but trash like you isn’t worth the paper to write the writ on!” That bit was followed by some fairly decent attempts to stab the other man with a rather large, gleaming, dagger.
At least Richard thought it was that kind of blade. The design was a bit different, even if the idea was similar. A sharp point meant for sticking someone. Possibly several times. The edges were well honed as well.
That was made clear by the bright lines of red that appeared on the smaller man’s face and neck from the slashing. At the same time he was being killed rather effectively, the fellow was defending himself decently. Most of the wild slashes were being deflected by carefully raised arms. There was no particular reaction to pain, either.
Tor ended the actual assault, by the simple expedient of getting up and tackling the wild Count. That caused some rolling on the floor that reminded Rich of his current mission. Infiltrating super powered Infected pit fights. That was mainly due to the light show that came up as the two men wrestled for control of the blade. It seemed technical and as if they both understood how to do that kind of thing.
Tor grunted a bit as he worked the larger fellow around, the sharp blade in his hand.
“Everyone be careful. His knife is going through our shields. Some kind of magic on it…” For all that he was fighting for his life or at least that of the smaller man, who was still ten inches taller than Richard was, their wizard was calm and collected as far as how he sounded.
He went on, breathing hard, without seeming distressed yet.
“We need to remove the blade from him.” Even more impressively, the words were all spoken in English, instead of Standard.
The idea left Rich feeling a bit bad for not having learned more of that language himself already. True, he’d been busy. That wasn’t an excuse though. Not if Tor could fight an armed man while speaking in a way they could all understand.
It was, interestingly enough, little Bridget that handled that part of things. She walked right through the cascade of brilliant sparkles, bobbing and weaving a little like she was suddenly drunk. Then she simply pulled the blade from the attacker’s hand. Gently. At least there was no blood curdling scream of agony when she did it. There was a soft popping sound that might have been a finger dislocating or a small bone breaking.
Three other men, who’d been at the side of the room for the whole meal, behind the attacking count, Boris, leapt in then, pulling weapons of a different sorts from under their heavy tunics. The color of their clothing matched, being a rather ugly brown that seemed to have been rubbed in mustard before they put the things on. Workmanlike, only in a soft material that gave the lie to that.
Those three were taken down by Brian Yi and Rachel. Before they could go for the still bleeding man with the black hair that had sunk to the floor. In a pool of deep red.
They didn't try to back up or protect their Count at all, meaning they probably had orders to make certain the victim died that night.
Most of the others had pulled back, wisely enough. Except for Phoebe and a tall blonde woman in a lovely gown. They both moved on the downed man. As the other woman dug at something around her neck, Phoebe kissed the man on the lips.
Not for too long. About half the room watched her do it, going still at the strangeness of the action. Right until the man’s wounds started to close up. Healing in real time, right in front of them. Then they just looked back at the subdued fighters. After all, they had rapid healing magics. The kiss was a bit odd perhaps but no one was blaming the girl for it at the moment. Probably due to shock. That or they were just really accepting when it came to making a move on someone.
It was Timon that cleared his throat, getting their attention.
“Well. We all saw that one coming, didn’t we? Count Montross was fingering his magic knife and glaring at Dorgal for the whole meal. I don’t suppose the fact that Dorgal Sorvee was was off in Vagus when your brother died will clear him? Busily being their King, I believe? That should pretty much take him out of the running for blame on that one, shouldn’t it?”
There was no answer from the still sparkling man on the ground. He just kept fighting with Tor. No one jumped in to help their guy, either. Why that was, Rich didn't understand. Oh, his part in it, since getting into a fight with people like that if you didn’t have to was foolish. Especially in a place so far from home where he didn’t know all the rules. What he was missing was why no one else was helping out. Tor was one of their people, after all. Really, he was getting ready to try and jump in himself, now that Impulse had taken the knife out of play.
Not that it would help that much. It was simply that not doing anything might make them look bad as a group, later.
More text came up then, floating in front of him, in blue. A calming color, that carried a hint of laugher behind them.
The words presented got him to nod, even if he didn’t understand all of them.
It seemed the man who was glowing was in a combat rage. The other three had been his guards and the reason they all thought Dorgal Sorvee, a former King had a part in the brother’s death was due to the fact that Sorvee’s father had actually done it. Their family was the secret guild of assassins there. A thing that at least some people had an inkling of. Worse, Dorgal looked a good bit like the older man, in the right light. It was simple mistaken identity.
