t new greeting on answering machine

"I know I'm supposed to be out fighting evil right now, but someone quite correctly reminded me that, for all the neat toys I have, I'm still at heart a porn writer, not a warrior. Then he demanded to be punished again for interfering in my destiny. Leave a message at the beep."

So now that there's just the unpacking to go, I only needed one worker to come back today, a chap named Bruce: he seems an inquisitive sort. Explanations seemed to go smoothly enough. All we need to do is unload the animals in the crates into the corresponding enclosure. The first hour passed without much incident; but apparently a pair of capybaras in suspended animation warrants further inquiry.

"Bit big for rodents, aren't they? I mean, how's this enclosure going to hold them?"

"Well, I believe they find their size to be reasonably acceptable, and it should be comfortable enough for a week at least."

"Yeah, but-- Hang on, why a week? We're going to all this trouble and they're not even staying?"

"Well, no, they'll -- that is to say, the enclosure itself won't --" I start polishing my glasses while I think how to put this.

"Ok. From the beginning: each enclosure is a different environment from around the world. I've already matched the soil and vegetation, now all we need is to add a few examples of the fauna. Which is what we're doing now, of course." I wave vaguely at some of the crate labels: Madagascar, New Zealand and so forth. "Then I let them get settled in for a week or so, and they should be ready for integration!"

"Into what?"

"Their particular environments, of course."

"Your back yard? You're just planning to take the walls down or something?"

I look at him blankly for a moment. Taking the walls down would not be a good idea. Somewhere we're not communicating.

"...Ah, no, I see! No, their own environments. South America. Borneo. Wherever. In a week's time, I'm going to power all this up, and they're going to merge with the actual locations I'm replicating."

He leans against the crate. "...Still not following."

"Well, take this one for instance. Here I've matched, roughly, a particular location in the Amazon. Now when the system's fully operational, outside this gate will still be Sang Sacre. But the enclosure on the other side is going to become stitched onto the actual Amazon. So it'll be possible to move directly from here to the Brazilian rainforest. And back again, of course."

He's mulling this over, and looking a tad disturbed. "But... doesn't that mean that anything in the Amazon will be able to enter Sang Sacre?"

"Oh, goodness no. The gates form barriers that can only be penetrated by someone operating the mechanism. You see, the idea is that... Well, if I have this correctly, each of the, er, regions is in a different time zone."

"Well, if they're on different continents..."

"Hm? Oh, no, not exactly what I mean. That's all just accounting, really. It's like... when the time in this region is 10:58:34, this region is going through 10:58:33. And a half, probably. Just very slightly off. But it's enough to stop anything getting through; really, for all intents and purposes the other regions doesn't exist from the perspective of any one of them. They're either in its future or in its past."

I look up at him; his face has gone ever so slightly blank. "Do you see what I'm saying?"

A snort. "Not really."

"Mmm. Pity. I was hoping you could explain some of the details to me. I mean, it all sounds most impressive, and the estate agent was very persuasive, but... Anyway, it seems to work, so that's the main thing I suppose."

He nods, the crates momentarily forgotten. "So -- if the time in each region is different, then how do they connect with here? I mean, it can't be exactly the same time as in all of them simultaneously, can it? So how does anything get through the barrier?"

"No, that's true. I asked the estate agent the same thing; she said something about Einstein and relativity. Time's interchangeable with velocity, or something like that. So you see, as you enter any one of these sections, it speeds you up, or slows you down... Or maybe it speeds up the whole town, or was it...? -- Er, anyway, it's just enough to make a difference of half a second or so, enough to put you in sync with the region to which it's connected. And then back again, once you're done. This isn't really helping, is it?"

"...No."

"Ah well. We need to finish unpacking these crates anyway. And could you help me catch these capybaras?"

"Hm?"

"When you leaned on the crate it seems you switched off the stasis mechanism. They look happy enough on my lawn, but really I feel they'd prefer South America in the long term."

“Gert, hey. How’ve things been around here?” No answer from the enormous chaos demon who works the front desk at the hotel. “Gert, where are you?”

Raul is in the kitchen putting away salmon and trout. The place feels weird, empty. Even the cats aren’t lazing around like they usually do. I stop and stand in the middle of the lobby. My favorite red chair is in the corner, the front desk gleams under the light of the chandelier hanging overhead. Four keys hang behind the counter. We never could rent the old Presidential suite where Gert stayed before the ghouls built the new house out back. Doorframes large enough for an 8 foot tall monster to walk through freak some people out. Chaos demon hair on the bed doesn’t help.

Something’s off. I know if I just stay quite enough, I’ll figure it out. A slight breeze blows through the lobby and lightly lifts the edge of a piece of paper laying on the front desk counter. I walk over and pick it up. It’s held down by a little white bone. A letter.

Kat,

Being good blows. Boring, much? My old friend, Gordie, told me Aeshma’s back in town, so I’m outta here. Hate you. Hate hotels. Hate goodness. Took the cats.

Gert

“Puta de mierda!!!! Te voy a matar! Te lo juro.” Raul comes running from the kitchen.

“Que te pasa? What’s going on here?” I pass him the letter. As he reads it, that concerned look I know so well comes over his face. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get my cats back.”

Sunset's approaching; but we've finished unpacking, and all the animals are in place. It's only polite to offer Bruce a tinnie, especially since he seemed quite shaken by the last crate. I don't see it, myself. Naked mole rats aren't exactly imposing, I'd have thought, but I suppose everyone has their own idiosyncracies.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. Then Bruce clears his throat. "So. You went to all this trouble -- and expense, this can't have been cheap -- just because wild animal parks were getting a bit stale? Is that it?"

He's right, of course. It wasn't cheap. Or easy. The technology behind these gateways is remarkably sophisticated, and I doubt even then it'd work anywhere but Sang Sacre. "No, there's more to it than that. You recall that Sang Sacre, in the normal course of things, effectively doesn't exist from the other side of these gates? Well, I'm working on expanding the field. If I can make the barriers more sophisticated in what they allow to pass, and if I can widen the transitional field," -- and if I can prevent it all going up in a massive explosion, I add silently -- "then I may well be able to convert them into the most effective sanctuaries ever. Humans -- poachers, loggers, all the rest of it -- would simply be unable to enter. A real safe haven. Multiple safe havens. That's how I chose the placements. These all connect to ecologies that are both biologically diverse, and under some pressure. ...Well, and maybe one or two extras that just interest me. It’ll be a great tool for research too. Very helpful, I’m sure."

Bruce nods. "You left some of them empty, though. Completely bare -- not even any grass or trees."

"True. In theory, I can use them to connect anywhere -- for a limited time. If I've matched the target environments well enough, the stitching there should take permanently. They'll grow into one another, more or less. But while the bare enclosures can be hooked up anywhere, there's no match. It could only remain stable for... well, under a week, anyway."

I take a drink. "Plus, there are a couple of environments I want to link to, but the technology just isn't quite up to it. The deep sea, for instance -- opening the door to a spot under such massive pressure would be like creating a geyser. If I couldn't get it to shut off, it'd be unstoppable -- you'd have the ocean gushing through with, really, unbelievable force. Whole city would be flooded. In a matter of minutes, probably -- how do you hold back the ocean? ...So I'd like to test a few prototypes before I go live with that one."

"On behalf of Sang Sacre, thanks."

"Least I could do."

As Bruce cracks open another tinnie, he starts again. "Look, isn't there a risk that things'll follow you back through? I mean, you said the barriers are impregnable, but what about when you're using them?"

"Oh, it should be perfectly safe. It wouldn’t do to have introduced species making a nuisance of themselves, after all. There is something of a crude biological filter, certainly anything close enough to human to get through would be large enough to spot easily. And the fencing around this place has been reinforced with a few tricks to prevent escapes. Anyway, most of them are quite harmless, and even ones that could cause the odd problem aren't really dangerous if you treat them with a bit of common sense and respect. Don't go poking the leopard with a stick, that sort of thing."

He rests back in his chair and stares quizzically at me.

"...Ok, maybe the river could do with a sign about crocodiles."

(Billytea, if this ends up with giant spiders running loose in Sang Sancre, I will be very, very cross with you. IJS ...)

Miracleman orders Hector to bring us some towels. Devouring jello demons is sticky work and both Knut and the Instagolem could use a wipe. Me, I just feel unclean from watching that much jello go down.

Miracleman seems distracted.

"Look, guys, it was nice of you to clean up the goo and all, but I've kind of got my hands full so. . . "

"We know that! Why do you think we're here? All hell or heck or I don't know what is breaking loose, and I wanted to do something about it!" I am not feeling particularly patient right now, so it's just as well that Knut interrupts.

"Things are out of balance, which does nobody any good. Penny here is into fighting evil. I'm all for a sound ecology. We came to you because you seem to be in the middle of things."

Miracleman looks thoughtful.

"What were you planning to do? I mean, what powers do you have at your command?"

Knut stares at the spider plant by the door. It pulls itself out of its marble urn and walks over to him. He gives it an absent pat and sends it home.

"I have a way with plants. Also, in case you haven't noticed, I'm huge and made of rock."

Miracleman nods and stares at me rather pointedly.

"Oh. I can make things. Do a few curses. Um. Teach English. Hit things with sticks. Look, I just want to do something, okay? Also, I think you're going to need all the help you can get. I think we should get people together. Have you seen Aimee?"

Hector giggles. Oh, hell. What have they done with her?

So, I've been a slug all day. Literally. It was sooo nice to get my powers back. I turn back to human and snap myself into an ensem that more reflects me me, not the dominatrix me that has been parading (and I'm not being vain, you can't help bu parade in that get-up) in for 15 years.

Low-slung jeans, boots, black lace t-shirt. I'm set. I throw on my leather duster (I really like it-won't give it up) and head out to the front of the castle or whatever it is that Miracleman has going on here.

Oooh! I think I hear Penny!!

I walk out and see a large puddle of green, what is that?

Hector is giggling. Must be Jell-o. With bits of fruit.

I decide to take a quick walk through the streets of Blood. Dagfari wants to come with me, but I persaude him that I should go alone. "I won't be going far," I tell him, "and we can stay in touch through the mind-link. I'd like to have some idea what sort of range it has."

//Miles and miles,// he says, gloomily. Why, of all the vampiric houses in Sang Sacre, did I end up with a depressed one?

"I'll be okay," I say, firmly, snatch my glasses up from the table by the door, and hurry out.

The roads are busy, and I stop to put my specs on- only to discover that they aren't my regular pair, but the magical set which allow me to see past and future. Ooops.

//I told you something would go wrong,// Dagfari says in the back of my mind.

I tell him, politely, to go to hell.

//Am already, lady,// he replies, //Demon, remember?// Fortunately, he does shut up when I threaten him with being given back to Miracleman.

Little by little, I adjust the spells in the glasses so that they are focused on one second- things are a little blurry, but better than nothing. I find an alley- this town's well provided with them- and stand at the entrance, looking into the future.

Now, due to the trousers of time problem, there are multiple futures availible for viewing at any one time. Slowly, I scan through some of the things that could happen- and realise I don't like most of them. One features huge numbers of green jello monsters. Another involves six thousand escaped mole rats, some of whom (in the best tradition of Blood) are naked. Yet another sees the town being run by someone I can only identify as 'gothygirl', a front for the real power behind the throne, a demonic rabbit. I think that perhaps the future needs a little help recovering its positive side.

With determined strides, I set out for Miracleman's. Time for some pay back.

"Let's see...plant-controlling rockman. Curse-wielding, hitting-with-sticks English teacher. Me. Hector."

I sigh. "Not much of an army."

"What about ita?" Penny B. asks.

"No telling. She could be on our side, she could be on the bad guy's side. All depends on what the 'balance' requires.

"Plus I'm being sued by the makers of Jell-O. And litigation tends to make friends scarce."

I lean over the chasm on the doorstep and knock carefully. After all, if Miracleman doesn't answer I can just run away, and claim he wasn't in.