Slip Slidin' Away

by Katrina A. Templeton

"We're working our jobs, collecting our pay Believe we're gliding down the highway When in fact we're slip slidin' away."

- Paul Simon, "Slip Slidin' Away"

The Great Hall. If you have never seen it, you are missing out. The floor is painted with a map of Marraketh, updated every few years to add cities and towns. The walls have scenes from Marrakethian legend painted on them, including one panel that has nothing in it. It is rumored that that wall is the wall of things yet to come for Marraketh, and will paint itself with the scenes of famous history as they occur. However, it is just legend, as so many things are in this land.

At the end of the Great Hall stands a throne. Normally, it was the seat for the king, and his advisors sat around him, but things had changed. The greatness of the Great Hall had been made into a perversion for the Master. He had been drawn (albeit rather crudely) into the murals on the wall, and the room was now decorated in ungodly shades of purple and green. And on the throne sat a man who would probably go unnoticed on any street on Earth.

Sid Harldcast was bored. Here he was, Marraketh's most important advisor, and there was nothing for him to do. The Master was off, attending to business elsewhere, and Marraketh was running smoothly. Too smoothly.

Sid scowled at his battle plan map. There were unknowns - too many. The Chi-Linians were neutral outwardly, but there were many Marrakethian refugees there, and an attack would be easy. The sea might not hold intruders at bay anymore. And then there was Tyrene.

Well, Tyrene himself wasn't much of a problem any more. The Master had made sure Tyrene paid for his dirty trick. But nobody knew what would happen with Tyrene's daughter. [How old is she now?] thought Sid. [Old enough to really do damage if she found out the truth. I have to find some way to stop her!]

But Ryan was doing an adequate job enough of watching her. Although Ryan hadn't been told what exactly he was doing until he was sixteen, he had admirably tried an assassination plan the next week. When that failed...

Sid was interrupted by a court page. There were tears running down his cheek, but the insipid smile was still plastered on his face. "Sssssssssssir?" sniffled the page. "There, there, there, is bad news. The Master is dead." The page started bawling upon delivering this news.

Sid scowled some more. "Go away," he said to the bawling court page. The page sniffled, and wandered out the huge double doors that lead into the great hall.

The doors slammed shut, and Sid grinned an evil grin. He pulled a sealed purple envelope out of the safe in the corner of the room, and slid his finger under the flap. The flap lifted easily, and Sid pulled out the message inside.

"Hey Siddy, my super-de-dooper friend! If you're reading this, I have been killed by one of those mean and nasty Jihaddi who are always such pains! But never fear, I will soon be back to reclaim my territory. In the meantime, Siddy, you are head of my super-de-dooper province of Marraketh. I know you'll do great! Hope to see you soon. Barney."

Sid stuffed the letter back inside the envelope. Finally! He could do what he pleased with Marraketh. And he could go after that punk Katze kid and make sure she couldn't do any damage to him.

But first? "Get the troops ready, we are placing a guard on the sea." He grinned, as he knew his troops would hear, even though he was alone in the Great Hall.

He cackled maniacally, and jumped down from his throne, ready to lead the troops. He left the room, stomping across the map of Marraketh in the process. But, if he had looked closely, he'd have seen that the blank panel was not blank any more. It contained a couple of specks of color.

Professor Schmidt was working on a research paper in his office when someone came knocking at his door. He looked up from his paper on French conjugations of verbs, and their effect on the French people. "Who is it?" he asked, reaching for a bunch of papers that would become, someday, the authoritative text on D'wani grammar. [That may never happen,] he reminded himself as he filed the manuscript away in his desk.

A face poked itself in the office door. It was Thalin Shalinkurk, a trusted advisor of his from Marraketh, and one of the GSIs for the linguistics class that he was teaching. "Thalin, how goes it?" he asked.

Thalin closed the door behind him, and took a seat. He then asked, "English or Marrakethian?"

"Marrakethian. Need to keep up the practice, although it may be never that we return."

"Yes, Captain Mrythen. Anyway, news has come in from our operative in Chi-Lin. Good news, possibly, if you want to consider it that. The Master has left Marraketh in the hands of his most trusted advisor as he goes to deal with things elsewhere."

"Oh? This is indeed fortuitous news. But we will not attack."

"Why not? We have the manpower scattered between Chi-Lin and Earth, and you know the Chi-Linians will back us in a battle. The hour is now, the minute is here! The sea is down, and may not be down for long!"[1]

"You do not understand. The Master is, of course, a spirit. He lives not in the world of mortals, as he has taken over many a dimension besides our beloved Marraketh. It is up to the Man Across the Sea[2] to decide whether it is time."

"You are letting your religion get in the way of common sense!"

"I am not. I have listened to the words, and I have followed them. If it were not for my stouch faith in Him, I would believe Marraketh would have no chance." Professor Schmidt rose from his chair, and began pacing around his office. "It was so clear, though. I am not to do anything right now, except wait. I am needed, but not quite yet. This is what the Man tells me. If I chose to believe it, then let me believe it. The Guard[3] does not move until I tell it to. I do not plan to tell it to move quite yet."

"You are a fool, Mikje," Thalin said, switching to his commanding officers first name to show his contempt. "You would let an old children's story ruin your chance to regain Marraketh forever. A complete and total fool, to believe in the passing fable of a children's story!"

Professor Schmidt stopped his pacing across the room. "Then, my friend, if it were not for the will of a higher power, how am I able to know both Marken Yuvall and you?"

"I do not know. You are indeed blessed with the quality of timelessness. But perhaps the rumors are true, perhaps you did sell out to Yuvall." Thalin squirmed in his seat as he said these last words.

Professor Schmidt dropped into a chair. "How I wish I could find him, and prove he was dead," he whispered to himself. Then he looked back at Shalin. "I predict Marraketh will be liberated by the end of this year," he said, slowly. "And it will not be the Guard who does it."

Thalin stood up, prepared to leave. "Good day, Captain, you senile old fool. If your prediction does not come true?"

Professor Schmidt had already turned back to his report. "Then I will be dead, and there will be a new Captain of the Guard. For my advisor will not stand for such foolery from a senile old fool who supposedly cut a deal with Marken." Then switching suddenly back to English, he said, "Good day, Thalin, and thank you for helping me with my report."

He waited until the door closed. He then looked over his report. [Little does he know that the senile old fool knows exactly what will happen?] he thought to himself, and then went back to concerning himself with the conjugations of French verbs.

BONG! The clock struck midnight as fog swept through the garden. BONG! The hedges looked like animals who were going to come alive to guard the castle. BONG! Statues twisted in grotesque shapes. BONG! Red eyes glowed in strange combinations. BONG! A figure stepped onto the field to see exactly where she was. BONG! BONG! BONG!

Katze looked around the grotesque playing field. It was surreal, but pieces seemed familiar, as if there should be somewhere that resembled this place. BONG! Why had she been called here? It didn't seem like the right place to have a confrontation. BONG! BONG! Nervousness worked its way across Katze's body, much like goosebumps, and she tried to teleport out of this place. But it was...

BONG! The last strike on the bells brought an eerie spectre to the battlefield. [Why did that word come to mind?] thought Katze. As in answer to her thought, a lightning bolt crashed down upon the field, delivering an opponent. Katze did not recognize the figure, as his face was hooded and his body was hidden under loose-fitting robes. He carried only a scepter. [Good day, lady of the house of Katze.]

Katze looked at the figure. "Who are you, and what do you want from me?"

[Ah, my lady, I cannot say. But I am here to destroy you.]

"Destroy me?"

[Yes.]

"But why?" Katze looked at her hands, hoping somebody would perform a miracle and free them from the bondage of not being able to fight. The red eyes tiptoed out of their hiding spots and surrounded Katze and the figure so that Katze could not flee on foot. Katze started pleading inwardly with whatever gods there were to make this a fair fight.

[Because you are a hindrance to the Master. En garde!] The figure raised his scepter toward one of the moons in the sky and then aimed it at Katze. [G'bye, my lady Katze!]

Katze ducked and the magic blow went swirling harmlessly over her. This dance of figures continued for a little while, with the figure blasting magical bolts at her and her side-swiping, ducking and jumping. Meanwhile, her mind was working overtime to try and keep this figure from destroying her. Then she saw it.

"It" was a sword, around two and a half feet in length. The blade was two feet long and made of a strange metal that Katze didn't recognize. The hilt was made of a material that was much like bicycle grip rubber and yet more of that strange metal done in a decorative design that made it easy to hang onto. Set in the center of the hilt was a stone that glowed seemingly under its own power. Katze picked up the sword, and admired the weight in her hand. She took a couple experimental swipes with the sword, ignoring the other figure. It was almost a mistake.

The spell clipped Katze right in the chin, and knocked her to the ground. The sword clattered to the ground as well. Katze went chasing after it, trying to ignore her bruises. She grabbed at the sword, but missed. She rolled over, trying to grab it, and found the figure stepping on the blade. The figure raised his scepter one last time, preparing for the kill. Katze, in a panic, yanked at the sword one last time. It came loose, causing the figure and his weapon to go flying.

The figure fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Katze spun around to attack the figure and found him lying on the ground, with his weapon quite a few feet away. She looked at the sword in her hand and did the only thing that came to mind. She plunged it deep into the heart of the figure. The sword stuck and Katze threw more strength into the sword to push it through.

The world fell silent and the flush of triumph flooded through her soul. But then she watched the figure and his weapon just fade into mist, leaving the sword plunged deep into the ground. Katze put her hand to her heart in a moment of silence, and then pulled it away to discover her hand covered in sickly red blood.

Katze blinked at the shock. Then, as the scene closed around her, and the world started to go black, she fell to her knees by the sword in the ground. She grabbed the hilt, closed her eyes, and prepared to die. It was just a matter of time...

Katze awoke from a slumber in her desk chair screaming. As her focus cleared and she saw that she was sitting safely in her office and not dead, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a dream, just a dream - but then why did it seem so real?

There was a knock at the door. Katze looked around at the papers going every which way, and sighed. "Who is it?" she called.

"Technician Roberts, sir. I have papers for you to sign."

Katze groaned. Paperwork. "Come in."

The door swung open and a lanky technician wandered into the room. "You are Councillor..." The tech stared at his papers making sure he had the right name. "...Katze?"

Katze nodded. "Yes. Now what do you have for me to sign?"

"An au-thor-I-say-shun for funds, and a few new ap-pli-CAY-shuns..." The tech droned on in this voice a bit and Katze let her mind wander. Suddenly, she felt another presence brush by. She couldn't tell who it was or why it was there, but she decided to follow it.

There was a sudden shock as another, messier (if that was possible) office was superimposed over her view of her own office. It was almost like the monopoly incident, except that this time she couldn't let go. Roberts continued to drone on about form 810b, or something, but Katze wasn't hearing him. She was too concerned with the person yanking her mindwise. [Leggo!] she growled at the other presence.

[Okay, whatever you say, Katze,] came the other voice, and then Katze literally fell backwards into her chair. A giggle echoed through her head and she made a mental note to kill Ari the next time she saw her.

Roberts was flabbergasted. He'd never seen anybody act like they'd been pushed when there was nobody in the room. He was beginning to think there was something strange to this whole mess when the door to the office swung open. Ari strode in, took the papers from Roberts, and pointed towards the door.

Once Roberts was clear of the door, Ari closed it and looked at Katze. Katze picked up a pen and started playing with it, trying to avoid Ari's eyes.

Ari looked at the pen and grinned. "You peneater," she said. Normally, this would cause Katze to grin and rebut the name. But this time, Katze stayed silent, looking at her pen and tapping it against a legal pad sitting on her desk. Finally, she said, "I'm not mad at you."

Ari snorted. "That's a help. Care to tell me what you're mad about?"

Katze shrugged. "Just a sense of impending doom."

"This sense of impending doom wouldn't have anything to do with the dreams you've been having?"

Katze looked up from the pen. "Dreams? How did you know about those?"

"I was actually using Roberts to distract you so I could test something with you...but I got a sense of distress from you. I don't know how, Katze, I don't know why. All I know is that it happened."

Katze nodded and started playing with the pen again. "It's not fun to dream your own death. But I guess I'm regulated to paper pushing in the Jihad, because I'm absolutely worthless in a fighting sense."

Ari shrugged. "That may be so. But Katze, you've gotta be strong. Don't let these dreams get you down."

Katze nodded. "I think I need to get away."

"Yeah, get away, take a vacillation."

"Vacation."

"Ya, whatever. You need one. Get one of your buddies down in Comms to take you somewhere."

"You know...I've always had a fascination with Chicago..."

"Doesn't Cyohtee live in Chicago?"

Katze nodded. "That's gonna work out perfectly." She dropped the pen on the desk and grinned at her friend. "Thanks, I'll get right on it."

Ari grinned. "Not a problem. I'll see you later, before you leave, okay?"

Katze nodded, but had already picked up the phone to get a call out to Cyohtee. "See ya, Katze," Ari said as she closed the door.

Sid paced around the great hall nervously. He was awaiting news that his orders had been followed to the letter, and he was also awaiting the arrival of his son.

His son appeared first. The son poked his head around the door, making sure it was safe to enter. Sid grinned evilly. "What are you waiting for, Ryan?"

Ryan shrugged and didn't say anything. He had a scowl on his face. "Where did you goof up this time, Ryan?" Sid asked.

Ryan scowled even more. "She got into my room."

"She WHAT?!!!"

Ryan winced as Sid's anger struck. "She did it while I was away pretending to be another college student."

Sid grabbed Ryan by the shoulders and shook him. "You idiot! How much did she find out?"

"Not very much, sir." Ryan decided it was a good idea to neglect the fact he'd left his armband on his dresser. "And I found out something rather interesting about her."

Sid simmered down. "Oh?"

"She doesn't go to Vail like she says. She's one of them."

Sid pondered the implications of this remark. "Well, then, kill her. Not now, yesterday. And don't come back here until you succeed."

Ryan nodded and scowled. He had a plan. But it had better work.

Katze unlocked the door and stepped into the foyer. A click in the darkness echoed through her mind and she ducked, immediately avoiding a laser shot. The beam would have missed anyway, but you never can be too safe. She looked at the mechanism and its crudeness, and started worrying. It had been intentional. But...who?

Katze decided not to worry about it and wandered back to her room to get a change of clothes and her Russian book. She decided to leave the back way.

She gave the apartment barely a last glance as she faded out. That bare look was to become something symbolically greater, but nobody realized this at the time.

To be continued in "Trippin'"

[1] "The sea is down" is a reference to the days when Marraketh, or at least the Kyrill Empire, was a force on the sea. Then, a powerful tsunami came, wiping out the fleet and most of costal Marraketh. Marraketh never regained its sea strength - in fact, most Marrakethians are scared of the sea.

[2] An immortal who supposedly founded the D'wani (Kyrill Empire) race.

[3] The Marrakethian Remote Frontier Guard (MRFG).