From the article archive
World A Week: Lady, Lass, and Land
I fell from the Plaza at the center of the dead Third Stellar Empire to a working kitchen with cooks staring at me from under their white hats. You would think they were not used to people appearing out of thin air. Maintaining my dignity as a shield, I gathered my things, and nodded abruptly before walking out. They nodded back which was kind of them.
The front room was full of couches dotted with gentlemen in long robes, and doffed conical hats, reading the London Times.
My clothing was not suitable being of the black jeans and long-sleeved broadcloth shirt variety. I had a cloak, but it was more of the medieval thing than the almost judicial robes I saw. Since there seemed such an emphases on conical hats, I thought to take a small risk away from the crowd.
A spell of summoning clothing worked well, and I was attired in high fashion. Silk robe, felt hat, and leather slippers felt silly, but then so did most of the clothing I tried on, at first until one got used to it.
I spotted what looked to be gas lamps, and the paper was pure black and white with a tendency to smudge. The unapologetic and relaxing men's club was also dated. But I did not think the early Nineteenth or late Eighteenth century had magic-users prominent. Perhaps, I had merely misread my own history books, I considered whimsically.
Waiters came out in white-gloved efficiency and presented each of us with a snifter of brandy. The clock at the end of the room chimes, and everybody starts, but restrains themselves. Then a carillon of bells rings out from outside with a pure, sweet beauty that wets the eyes.
The sound faded, and a young man jumped to his feet with a toast.
"To the Empress of space, Lady Athena, and her Red Lass, Queen Victoria, and the Land we love."
Everybody stood and drank, and a vital union like a spark jumped from each to each encouraging us in love for these fine things. It was moving, and for me anyways, worrisome. What had I got myself into?
I let myself out walking past the statue at the door of Bombardier's. The statue was the grey-eyed goddess herself, and I nodded in respect as I went by.
"Colonial." I heard behind me. "Colonial sir." Again the call, and so I turned to see a bellman dashing up the street with a package in his hand.
"Are you speaking to me?"
"Yes, sir." He looked at my odd backpack, and doublechecked it against a piece of paper in his hand.
"Are you the one called Mr. Tad Day Oze?" He said difficultly warping my name, but not significantly.
I nodded affirmatively.
"Then this is yours, sir." And he handed me a string-wrapped and wax sealed wooden box. The string wrapping struck me as unusually ornate, and probably magic. But I knew only a couple spells with ropes. One for mending, and another for making animate strangling cords.
I gave the fellow a pearl, which reminded me that except for the pirate loot, I was running low on valuable trading items. Then I took the box.
"We have had that ever since we founded. The only woman, other than the Queen and her priestesses to ever walk on our grounds gave it to the grandfather of the owner."
He stood there obviously hoping that I would clear up the local mystery, but nothing came to me. I did not remember asking a friend to leave me an item somewhere that I might pick it up later.
Cautiously, I opened it. Inside, a brown metal gauntlet for the left hand lay waiting with a small, yellowed note.
"Dear Sir,
It is my understanding that this gauntlet is the one thrown down by Ares when he challenged our Lady for the dominion of the Earth. As such, it has been the duty of my priesthood to find a way to protect my world from its attempts to sow division so that the world may live in peace under the benevolent rule of the Red Lass; may she hold the Earth in her grasp for centuries to come. I understand by my visit to the Oracle at Winchester that you may have some means of saving the world by taking this from us. So, I have left this for you inside a great magic which is now spoiled."
I brushed the glove with a protected finger, and still images of a ravaged London filled my brain. I could see the change coming in the bellboy. It was like flashes as he changed from second to second. One moment, cheerful and respectful; the next he stood there in a leather jacket with a chain wrapped around his hand while London burned behind him.
I understood the spell that had been cast on the happiest Empire the world ever knew. They stopped History. It was not 1890, but probably closer to 1990.
The temptation to slip on the glove was immense. Power to crush all my foes lay for the taking. My hands trembled as I looked into that wooden box.
I walked away without speaking for I had questions to answer. Was it better to leave these people locked in their own ways enchanted not to move forward? But that was false; it was more like being enchanted not to change.
Was it better to let them stay? Nazism versus Women's Rights? Communism versus the death of Jim Crow? If I could stop the one, did I have to stop the other?
My gauntlet assured that I did, and it made it hard to think. The thing had a phenomenal will that pounded at me, and flung images into my mind, and seduced me with my vices. There was some thread of logic there to help me with my decision, but it kept that thread plucked. So, I staggered down the street such that a couple inquired if I was sick.
"No, well, sort-of."
"Let's help him, Charles, he reminds me of our great Kim."
The gentleman assented, and gravely assisted me with skill to a park bench.
"You are right, he does look a lot like that great-grandson." Said the charming fellow of about twenty-five.
"Athena bless you and heal you." The woman chanted softly, and immediately I felt better, and more clear-thinking as the protective influence of the goddess of wisdom filled me.
"You have grand-children? How old are you?"
"My, what a question?" The lady who had healed me considered me impertinent, but Charles noted my deadly serious look, and he replied in kind.
"Last week was my one hundred ninetieth birhday."
"Indeed great praise to Athena that she showed us how to develop our English magics. The Magic Revolution remade the world, and made it a better place. And best of all, it lets me and Charlie live for centuries together." The lady said.
"But what of?" And I paused wondering how to bring this up. For all I knew, everybody in the world was scum, and the English sat on top in cruel splendor.
But then I looked at their fair and kind faces, and knew the gauntlet had been deceiving me again. Like it had with its images telling me that they had stopped History. They may have stopped history, but only in the sense that such people would likely be conservative, even a touch reactionary.
The thought occurred to me that they might need Chaos, but again looking at the peaceful street, and the sweet couple I could see no justification for unleashing war on this kindly world.
Poppycock, I told the gauntlet in response, and it subsided to consider other ways than supposedly high-minded arguements for random slaughter to bend me to its will.
"How do you treat the native, the black, the Jew? Do woman have the right to vote?"
"Once they pass their college courses in logic and history at the graduate level we allow any non-native born, even woman to vote. They are equal then."
"Of course, a man of English stock has the vote from his fortieth birthday without any effort."
"Of course." The man said calmly, and the woman rolled her eyes.
"I'm fine." I said and thanked them both. Indeed, I felt much better now that my decision was made.
They were not perfect, and they might have grown more slowly than we had in some respects, but considering the alternatives, and considering how thinly understood the lessons of equal justice had been in my land with anti-Semites and multikulti's rising again then I found no ground to criticize them. Let them live, and me verse out.
My heart stopped with my help, and I woke upon a cold rock with my brain again fuzzy. Rocks, and moss fell away from me under the light of a cold white sun. And I looked at the gauntlet and could not understand how to put it on. I breathed but I did not understand that either.
All I knew was that I had to get rid of this Bad Thing. I dragged it in its box because I could not remember how to lift it, but I knew that word. I spent some time with no way of knowing how long trying to conjure up some information as to what the word "lift" meant.
After a time of pain, I came to a crevasse that went deep into the darkness. Laughing, I shoved the Bad Thing into the darkness. I did not hear it hit anything so it fell for a very long time.
I wondered why I laughed after a while, and then something in my body went wrong. The laughter stopped my breathing, and I could not understand how to clear my throat. Knowing that such "versing out" had happened before many times, I left the Bad Thing on a world where hopefully no one would ever have the brains to figure out how to put it on.
I did it for Lady, Lass, and Land, I reflected wondering what I was talking about. Versing out was a mercy since even as dumb as I was in that world, suffocation is not at all pleasant.
Tadeusz
The front room was full of couches dotted with gentlemen in long robes, and doffed conical hats, reading the London Times.
My clothing was not suitable being of the black jeans and long-sleeved broadcloth shirt variety. I had a cloak, but it was more of the medieval thing than the almost judicial robes I saw. Since there seemed such an emphases on conical hats, I thought to take a small risk away from the crowd.
A spell of summoning clothing worked well, and I was attired in high fashion. Silk robe, felt hat, and leather slippers felt silly, but then so did most of the clothing I tried on, at first until one got used to it.
I spotted what looked to be gas lamps, and the paper was pure black and white with a tendency to smudge. The unapologetic and relaxing men's club was also dated. But I did not think the early Nineteenth or late Eighteenth century had magic-users prominent. Perhaps, I had merely misread my own history books, I considered whimsically.
Waiters came out in white-gloved efficiency and presented each of us with a snifter of brandy. The clock at the end of the room chimes, and everybody starts, but restrains themselves. Then a carillon of bells rings out from outside with a pure, sweet beauty that wets the eyes.
The sound faded, and a young man jumped to his feet with a toast.
"To the Empress of space, Lady Athena, and her Red Lass, Queen Victoria, and the Land we love."
Everybody stood and drank, and a vital union like a spark jumped from each to each encouraging us in love for these fine things. It was moving, and for me anyways, worrisome. What had I got myself into?
I let myself out walking past the statue at the door of Bombardier's. The statue was the grey-eyed goddess herself, and I nodded in respect as I went by.
"Colonial." I heard behind me. "Colonial sir." Again the call, and so I turned to see a bellman dashing up the street with a package in his hand.
"Are you speaking to me?"
"Yes, sir." He looked at my odd backpack, and doublechecked it against a piece of paper in his hand.
"Are you the one called Mr. Tad Day Oze?" He said difficultly warping my name, but not significantly.
I nodded affirmatively.
"Then this is yours, sir." And he handed me a string-wrapped and wax sealed wooden box. The string wrapping struck me as unusually ornate, and probably magic. But I knew only a couple spells with ropes. One for mending, and another for making animate strangling cords.
I gave the fellow a pearl, which reminded me that except for the pirate loot, I was running low on valuable trading items. Then I took the box.
"We have had that ever since we founded. The only woman, other than the Queen and her priestesses to ever walk on our grounds gave it to the grandfather of the owner."
He stood there obviously hoping that I would clear up the local mystery, but nothing came to me. I did not remember asking a friend to leave me an item somewhere that I might pick it up later.
Cautiously, I opened it. Inside, a brown metal gauntlet for the left hand lay waiting with a small, yellowed note.
"Dear Sir,
It is my understanding that this gauntlet is the one thrown down by Ares when he challenged our Lady for the dominion of the Earth. As such, it has been the duty of my priesthood to find a way to protect my world from its attempts to sow division so that the world may live in peace under the benevolent rule of the Red Lass; may she hold the Earth in her grasp for centuries to come. I understand by my visit to the Oracle at Winchester that you may have some means of saving the world by taking this from us. So, I have left this for you inside a great magic which is now spoiled."
I brushed the glove with a protected finger, and still images of a ravaged London filled my brain. I could see the change coming in the bellboy. It was like flashes as he changed from second to second. One moment, cheerful and respectful; the next he stood there in a leather jacket with a chain wrapped around his hand while London burned behind him.
I understood the spell that had been cast on the happiest Empire the world ever knew. They stopped History. It was not 1890, but probably closer to 1990.
The temptation to slip on the glove was immense. Power to crush all my foes lay for the taking. My hands trembled as I looked into that wooden box.
I walked away without speaking for I had questions to answer. Was it better to leave these people locked in their own ways enchanted not to move forward? But that was false; it was more like being enchanted not to change.
Was it better to let them stay? Nazism versus Women's Rights? Communism versus the death of Jim Crow? If I could stop the one, did I have to stop the other?
My gauntlet assured that I did, and it made it hard to think. The thing had a phenomenal will that pounded at me, and flung images into my mind, and seduced me with my vices. There was some thread of logic there to help me with my decision, but it kept that thread plucked. So, I staggered down the street such that a couple inquired if I was sick.
"No, well, sort-of."
"Let's help him, Charles, he reminds me of our great Kim."
The gentleman assented, and gravely assisted me with skill to a park bench.
"You are right, he does look a lot like that great-grandson." Said the charming fellow of about twenty-five.
"Athena bless you and heal you." The woman chanted softly, and immediately I felt better, and more clear-thinking as the protective influence of the goddess of wisdom filled me.
"You have grand-children? How old are you?"
"My, what a question?" The lady who had healed me considered me impertinent, but Charles noted my deadly serious look, and he replied in kind.
"Last week was my one hundred ninetieth birhday."
"Indeed great praise to Athena that she showed us how to develop our English magics. The Magic Revolution remade the world, and made it a better place. And best of all, it lets me and Charlie live for centuries together." The lady said.
"But what of?" And I paused wondering how to bring this up. For all I knew, everybody in the world was scum, and the English sat on top in cruel splendor.
But then I looked at their fair and kind faces, and knew the gauntlet had been deceiving me again. Like it had with its images telling me that they had stopped History. They may have stopped history, but only in the sense that such people would likely be conservative, even a touch reactionary.
The thought occurred to me that they might need Chaos, but again looking at the peaceful street, and the sweet couple I could see no justification for unleashing war on this kindly world.
Poppycock, I told the gauntlet in response, and it subsided to consider other ways than supposedly high-minded arguements for random slaughter to bend me to its will.
"How do you treat the native, the black, the Jew? Do woman have the right to vote?"
"Once they pass their college courses in logic and history at the graduate level we allow any non-native born, even woman to vote. They are equal then."
"Of course, a man of English stock has the vote from his fortieth birthday without any effort."
"Of course." The man said calmly, and the woman rolled her eyes.
"I'm fine." I said and thanked them both. Indeed, I felt much better now that my decision was made.
They were not perfect, and they might have grown more slowly than we had in some respects, but considering the alternatives, and considering how thinly understood the lessons of equal justice had been in my land with anti-Semites and multikulti's rising again then I found no ground to criticize them. Let them live, and me verse out.
My heart stopped with my help, and I woke upon a cold rock with my brain again fuzzy. Rocks, and moss fell away from me under the light of a cold white sun. And I looked at the gauntlet and could not understand how to put it on. I breathed but I did not understand that either.
All I knew was that I had to get rid of this Bad Thing. I dragged it in its box because I could not remember how to lift it, but I knew that word. I spent some time with no way of knowing how long trying to conjure up some information as to what the word "lift" meant.
After a time of pain, I came to a crevasse that went deep into the darkness. Laughing, I shoved the Bad Thing into the darkness. I did not hear it hit anything so it fell for a very long time.
I wondered why I laughed after a while, and then something in my body went wrong. The laughter stopped my breathing, and I could not understand how to clear my throat. Knowing that such "versing out" had happened before many times, I left the Bad Thing on a world where hopefully no one would ever have the brains to figure out how to put it on.
I did it for Lady, Lass, and Land, I reflected wondering what I was talking about. Versing out was a mercy since even as dumb as I was in that world, suffocation is not at all pleasant.
Tadeusz
Recovered from the Gaming Outpost database backup. Original wording is preserved; damaged punctuation and presentation markup have been repaired. Historical links without a local match point to the Internet Archive.