“Uh. It sounds more high and notable when you say it that way, but basically Blackie jinxed my systems. So, that is the size of it.”

“If there is a Blackie. Why did you rely on the forbidden art? Technonecromancy is prohibited!”

Menelaus spread his hands. “I couldn’t trust people. They don’t live long enough. And I have to sleep in my Tomb until my bride comes back.”

“Agh! And you call yourself wise!”

“A man in love’ll do stupid things.”

5

The Blue Men

1. Reveille Inspection

It was dawn, and the Thaws were lined up in silent, sullen lines before the pack of dog things. There were five little Blue Men, accompanied by three dog things each, going from tent to tent. One dog of the pair traveled on all fours, sniffing, and the other two walked on hind legs, carrying muskets. Minutes lengthened to an hour.

The pink wash on the dark horizon rose in a glorious wreckage of cloud, vermilion, scarlet, rose, pink, and gold, as colorful as the robes of a king. Menelaus watched the sunrise with a detached and philosophical air. With one part of his mind, he was calculating the fractal patterns involved in the cloud shapes and using chaos mathematics to predict the movements of air masses, based on the vectors playing on the resulting shapes. With another part, he was inwardly raging at every moment, each split second that slipped past him, making him older and ever older, while his distant wife remained young.

When the tents Daae, Yuen, and Lady Ivinia had been using were inspected, there was commotion among the dog things, yipping and barking, and the Blue Men with solemn gestures consulted with each other, putting their heads close and speaking in their soft language.

Menelaus found that by increasing the number of nerve impulses per second going to and from his eyes, he could sharpen his vision for a short period, although it gave him a headache. He sharpened his vision now, and watched as the little Blue Men brought out the broken ground-cloth first from one tent, then another. The little cylindrical latrines taken out of these tents were brown-and-black-stained slabs, half-melted. Menelaus reconstructed what had happened: The Chimerae had overloaded the circuit to start a dung fire (burning four days’ worth of their own stored dung) concentrated atop one small portion of the ground cloth, and the heat had weakened the metal-cloth material sufficiently for the warriors simply to pound their way through it, four to six hours of punching metal in the same spot. Menelaus revised upward his estimate of the strength of their nerve-muscle systems and also the resiliency of their bones. An unmodified human would have broken all the bones in his hand.

Menelaus carefully judged the position of each of the dog things, their weapons, and the objects in the environment, and ran through 207 alternative scenarios of attack, and spent some time idly putting numbers to his vector estimates, visualizing wounds, and so on. One particularly clever attack method would be to take over all the tents in the camp with his implants, and have them come stalking and rolling forward like gigantic metal slugs, slicing flesh and bone in twain with sharpened tent folds, before the Blue Men could reestablish control. That scenario ended with himself and the Chimerae dead, and at least one Hormagaunt, but more than half the dog things would be dead or wounded.

For a moment, Menelaus was actually disappointed when the Blue Men, staring with somber eyes at the Chimerae, decided to do nothing. He had wanted to see how closely his mental scenario would match the reality. He wanted to see the looks on their muzzles when tents all rustled and stirred into an unnatural mockery of life.

Then the moment passed, and he was sober again, and scared. This was not a game, and he was not a godling, no matter what Mickey said.

His disappointment deepened and took on a bitter edge. He looked thoughtfully at the bandage Yuen wore as an eye patch. Why had the Alpha not allowed the Blue Men to restore his eye to working order?

There was another commotion and consultation when the dogs reached the empty spot where the tent assigned to Menelaus was supposed to be pitched.

Menelaus blinked, wondering how unobservant his captors could be. In a yard where only sixty-five people were standing in ranks and rows, how long would it take to notice everyone was in drab coveralls, except for one guy wearing a tent?

The answer was fourteen seconds. Three Blue Men, as alike as triplets, were communing with one another, and all turned at once in his direction. One of the three triplets uttered a soft trill. Two dog things carrying muskets came trotting over toward Menelaus.

The speaking machine from the harness of the Collie clattered, “You! Disinterred four days ago, coffin 4151, Level Three northwest. Coffin inscribed name ‘Beta Sterling Xenius Anubis, Proven in Battle of Mount Erebus, Genetic Unknown, Line Unknown, Possibly Crotalinae.’ Confirm!”

The machine spoke in the stilted Virginian of an educated Chimera.

Menelaus pushed back his hood, exposing his face, and answered in the same language. “I am he.”

“You! Not wearing the uniform thoughtfully provided!”

“Yes, me. I did not wish the tracking scent also thoughtfully provided to make it easy for you to find me, Lassie.”

“You! Dismantled tent thoughtfully provided, altered its use! This is conversion of property!”

“Me. I thought the tent was mine. So I decided to wear it. Bulky, but warm enough.”

“You! Engage in unexpected acts!”

“Me. Thanks. I try.”

The Collie clicked off the speaking machine, then turned to his companion, an Irish Wolfhound, and whined through his teeth. The Wolfhound shrugged philosophically, a very human gesture, and uttered a bark. The two sniffed each other carefully.

Click. “You! Come!”

“Me! My pleasure.”

“You! Why you say ‘me’? Why you start each speaking with this word?”

“Me!! Monkey humor. They forget to equip you hounds with a sense of humor? Tell me, puppies, do you breed true, or are you Moreaus, like those whales from long ago?”

“We are Followers. We Follow. We are loyal. We are not whales. Always loyal!”

“Always is a long time, Lassie.”

Menelaus was expecting them to take him over to the triplets for questioning. Instead, they walked away from the prison tents, and they passed beyond the wire. He saw the watchful eyes of Daae and Yuen on him as he walked away.

2. Preceptor Illiance

No door barred the curving passageway leading to the interior of the azure seashell-shaped building. Instead, a smooth-sided tunnel led from an openmouth halfway around the structure before disgorging into a wide circular interior. The light was dim, shed by bioluminescent substances in the walls. The ceiling spiraled up into darkness, out of sight. Another passage, mirror to the first, on the far side of the chamber, opened into a ramp leading upward, hinting at chambers above. The place was utterly silent.

A bald man with skin as blue as a peacock’s neck was seated on the carpet in lotus position. He was dressed in a long jacket glittering with a design of crystals, circuitry, and gems patterned like the hood of a cobra. He rose to his feet with a single movement, ballet graceful, as if an invisible thread from the top of his head had pulled him upright. He stood four feet tall and looked like a big-headed child.

The Blue Man took two strips of jerky from a poke and tossed them to the dog things, who caught them out of the air with their teeth. Then he raised a slim whistle to his lips and blew a signal normal human ears could not hear.