The Prophesy: Book 3 - The Hammer of Atlantis

 

"Let me set the topics we need to discuss," began Harold. "First, how is it the orcs knew we were out of the kingdom, and why were they able to follow us like rats follow food? Second, should we resume the Ark and Eden projects right away? Third, what is the situation with the different health issues we are faced with, namely the current level of occupation of the different types of stasis chambers? Fourth, how is the search for the last Crystal going? And finally, we need to incorporate Sitar and Harp's family brothers and sisters in our family as soon as possible; for this to happen we must find them within the population we rescued. By the way, where is the one we already found, Viola if my memory serves me right?"

"With his unit, husband. He has bonded tightly with the cavalry, and is taking care of that horse of his, that follows him like a dog follows a female in heat. He keeps giving the horse carrots and apples," replied Annabelle. "At that rate, we will have to open a dentistry shop for horses!"

"I need to add another point," mentioned Paschal as he wiped his eyes from the tears produced by his laughter. "We need to look at what has been recovered from the sea bottom and is now on the moon, as well as complement the analysis of the extraction done with the Spiders so far."

"And I would like to check if other atomic bombs are sleeping somewhere. We were damn lucky this time!" said Sitar.

"Sitar's point only covers part of the problem dad. We need to analyze the entire campaign and see if there are things we could have done differently," commented Harp.

"And we need to understand what happened with the Minotaur and Edward. Both dad and Ian acted totally out of character," completed Thorsten.

"Sitar, you are the military expert. Where would you look for any more doomsday devices?"

"Let me think. The one we found was close to the original capital of a country of the Ancients, the United States. There were many nations with nuclear power when the Catastrophe hit. Let's see America, or, as we know it Americus; Russia, France, England, China or Siam, Korea, Israel, Pakistan, India, and probably others that had managed to do it in secret, probably at least one in South America, maybe Brazil, and Iran, and maybe South Africa. If they had the same attitude as the Ancients here, I would suspect they too had at least one doomsday device near their capital. That implies I need to visit eleven areas and search for bunkers or other constructions typical of such a concept."

"What will you do if you find another one?" asked Amethyst.

"Detonate it, that's what. I do not plan to leave anything that orcs could use against us, or any other assailant, for that matter."

"How can you say what we saw in Washton is typical? It was a single example."

"I can't go around doing a statistical analysis with a single case, Diamondcutter. However, mentalities would have it that the doomsday device should be located underground, near or in a shelter for the elite of the country, wishing to go off with a bang."

"Will you try to rescue the population in the bunkers, if you find any, that is?" wondered Samson.

"No. They probably are much like those we found deep at the end of the Arc of Safety, with the added bonus of being severely mutated due to the leaking radiation from the device. We have enough to deal with as it is."

"Talking about them, how is the treatment progressing?"

"Not at all, dad. I put everyone in suspended animation, pending we free treatment chambers. Their treatment will be complex, requiring a complete regeneration of the optical pathways, and a full reprogramming of their memories. That is not something I am ready to undertake right now. We have more pressing issues," replied Paschal.

Taking a breath, Paschal continued.

"Dad, this last question is in line with your third point. Those chambers dedicated to medical and psychiatric treatment are currently at full capacity. Only one percent of these are Atlanteans; the others are life forms from the United Kingdoms of Americus, a combination bipeds, horses, dogs, wolves, and wildlife. By the way, Harp! Spare Ribs' sibling is ready to be released. We need to discuss how to do it."

"Ok."

"How long will they be at full capacity?"

"Another week, I guess. Then the load will drop considerably. Within a month, we should be in the clear, except for those that need extensive psychiatric treatment due to abuse. What I plan to do is complete the physical part of the issues, and push them back into suspended animation until we can free resources for psychiatric treatment. I am working with the healers to determine who should be put into psychiatric treatment first. I want to maximize the number of free chambers, so we are trying to treat those with the least damage in priority. Being in suspended animation does not harm anyone. As for those that need a complete neurological rewiring, they will go in last, even if they could be put into a stasis chamber for treatment. We will have a battle to fight and I want the chambers available for short-term treatments."

After another sip of his tea, Paschal continued with more information.

"I took a look at the auto-updating map this morning. The Spiders are progressing according to plan. The search line is currently one hundred and seventy miles due south of the Bermuda Rise, along the 30° parallel. The sea is deep, and has quite a few ships at the bottom. I have reprogrammed the Spiders to send anything found on the surface of the moon for drying out, while making a three-dimensional map of all the sites. I need to get the data from the Pyramids. I used their storage capacity to keep all the information."

"Let's deal with the next issue in the list, then. Ian, Diamondcutter, what happened in the southernmost bunker?" asked a concerned Harold.

"I don't actually understand, dad. It was like the closer I got to the Minotaur, the more intense the drive to kill became. At some point..."

"At some point, I had to use a nerve pinch with a powerful flux of magic to stop you from attacking dad, Ian," replied Harp. "You were out like a blown candle for twelve hours. By the time you came to, we were at the exit, and well, the result was what it was."

"I had a similar drive, Ian. Do not feel diminished by it. It was probably only because I have a more even temper than yours that let me stay sane. The call was so huge I felt like chewing through concrete to get to Edward."

"Ok. I just hope that this kind of drive won't happen too often."

"Probably not, dad; if it was the case, I would have had them before."

"Once every four and a half years is more then enough in my book! I'm surprised you didn't tear Harp to pieces when you woke up."

"I was obnubilated by the urge to attack whatever was outside. Anyway, I may be good, but Harp still has an advantage over me: a longer experience with magic."

"We'll have to train you in anger management, Ian!"

"Talk for yourself, Enron! If there is someone that needs that kind of training, it's you!"

After a good laugh at Enron's expense, the discussion was brought back on track by Harp.

"We need to figure out how the orcs knew we were out of the kingdom, and quickly. I am not aware that orcs had any worthwhile magicians, but you need not be able to do magic to sense it when it is extremely intense, as is the case within our family. Maybe they have one or two that can feel it, if not practice it. We need to review what we know about orcs. We have already begun reviewing our ideas about them with the discovery of the cooperative attitudes of the dwarf orcs; we now know they can do fine work when they really want to; I would not be surprised if they had other tricks up their sleeves."

"Do you think they may have more then one of these sensors, as you call them?" Enron asked.

"Probably, although we may never be sure. It would be our luck if they had only one, however I don't believe in luck, especially in a military campaign."

"Can you install some sort of mage detector?"

"Yes, if someone uses magic, it resonates dad. But this is like a passive listening; nothing can tell us if someone is passively listening on magic and able to pinpoint its source. Remember what we learned about the Ancients' underwater warfare? There were two forms: active and passive listening; active had an instrument emit a powerful sound in the water and listening to the echo to detect an enemy; the other, passive, was simply listening for the sound of travelling ships, be they submerged or surface ships. The later was impossible to detect. This is what I'm thinking we are facing."

"Ok. As long as it's passive, we'll have to live with it. I just wish we knew what other surprises the orcs have."

"Dad, if we knew, they wouldn't be surprises, would they?" replied Harp.

"Let's get back on topic. Harp, When do you plan to go on the moon to see how things are progressing?"

"I don't need to, dad. We have records of all activity done by the Spiders there. There is a constant process of cleaning up what we get from the sea bottom, and the Spiders have enough IQ to do it sensibly. I'll review the records with the help of everyone, and we should be done by the end of the week. Everything is sorted and we have a log. Once I'm sure everything is sterile, I'll have the Spiders collect everything in containers under void and port them to storage in one of the tessaracts."

"Ok, last point, your siblings, Harp and Sitar. Now we need Viola to identify them."

"We'll deal with that after vespers, dad. I have asked that all names be registered, and we have all the data in one of the pyramid's crystalline structure. It's a piece of cake to ask for specific names once we have all of them."

"Ok. Let's go take a walk. How is Spare Ribs, son?"

"Growing fast. Paschal, what about his sibling?"

"It's ready for release; I have managed to boost its growth so it's about the same size as Spare Ribs. By the way, it's a he."

"OK. We need a name for him."

Just then Spare Ribs made his way into the room, meowing loudly.

"I figure the kitten is hungry?" asked Paschal.

"I guess. Give me fifteen minutes to feed it."

Harp converted to a big female sabre tooth leopard and lay down on his side. The not so tiny kitten began sucking for milk, a process that lasted a good thirty minutes. When sated, the cat began attacking the tail of the female cat Harp had shifted into, showing and learning the hunting techniques it would later hone to hunt for preys as an adult. After another half an hour of exercise the kitten rolled in a ball, and Harp carried it into a box containing clothes so it would sleep. He then reconverted to his human form, holding his left tit and wincing.

"That cat has sharp teeth!" explained the prince, as Paschal used magic to repair the damage done.

"When do you plan to get it on meat?"

"Shortly, Ian, very shortly."

"How do you plan to get the kitten in the stasis chamber to react like Spare Ribs?" wondered Harold.

"I've been infusing the liquid in the chamber with my body odour, dad. It's being conditioned to associate me with a female of the species. I also added the odour of his brother."

"Aren't you afraid it will become domesticated?"

"I doubt that. Cats never really became domesticated anyway; they only tolerate our presence. Your dog lives with you; you live with your cat."

"When are you taking it out of stasis?"

"Mom, I plan to do it within the week."

"Let's rest, vespers is an hour away, and I feel we need a little peace," suggested Enron. The idea met with a breath of relief from everyone.

***

Vesper's meal passed quietly. Prince Jefferson joined the Royal Family of Atlantis for the evening meal. Even Spare Ribs got a bit of table scraps, in the form of raw meat titbits. After the dessert, and a good digestive to help drench down the food, the royals sat around the fireplace. Prince Viola joined them, having dined with his unit. The lively discussions that were involving everyone were suddenly interrupted by a question from Viola.

"So, what do we know about my sisters and brothers?" he asked.

"Let's go to the General hospital and consult the records there, Viola. Sitar, Harp, please come with us. Paschal? Could you see the list of names we have of people held currently under Thebes?" asked Harold. "Verify all possible spellings of the names we have, or homophones."

"OK, dad. Enron, Thorsten, Typhoon, please come with me; the list is huge."

"I thought we had specified to look for these names when we ported people?" Samson demanded.

"I have learned we are never better served then by doing things ourselves, dad."

"Can I go with you?" asked Jefferson, looking warily at the rather big cat. "I have the impression it considers me a potential lunch!"

"It considers everyone a potential lunch. And yes, I'll push you around. It might be a good thing that the people of the United Kingdoms see you a bit while we search for the others. Some are rather depressed," replied Paschal. "Timor, come along as well. Your size will prevent any idiotic behaviour."

"I'll go to the hospital," decided the Fairy princess. "I think Spare Ribs considers me a big mouse!"

"When will my people get released?"

"Some are already, Jefferson. It's just a question of making sure none of the criminal elements are let loose without being enrolled in the army. Everyone gets enrolled anyway, but criminals are put into special conscript units, where wolves frame them. It takes a few months to a year to kick the habit of misbehaving, after a few snipes from the wolf officers. Some try to make a run for it, and learn the hard way it's not a possibility. Their training is particularly demanding. When you are too tired to stand up, you are too tired to do evil. And I have to take the time to build housing for them. It's a big project. We are looking at Thebes' urban plan, to find where they will be built. One thing that the newcomers will need to understand is that there will be no ghetto, no section reserved for them or prohibited to them. I plan to spread them out across town. Our own population is growing quite fast, so I plan to make sure they are as evenly spread out as possible."

"I see. I'm afraid we will lose our identity."

"That is the goal, Jefferson. By becoming Atlantean, by fully becoming integrated into their new environment, they will stop feeling insecure. That has worked perfectly well with the archduchies and duchies so far. It now crosses not only that puny barrier, but also species barriers. And that is what we want."

"I don't understand?"'

"For instance, Fairies are still Fairies, but they are Atlantean as well. They identify themselves as Fairies of the Atlantean kingdom; this goes for all species. I expect that the humans that compose the vast majority of the United Kingdoms will identify themselves as humans of the Atlantean Kingdom. The only way to make this happen is to integrate them as fully as possible, in all aspects of our lives, from birth until death. You will eventually recompose your kingdom with these humans, Jefferson. They will be vassals to the Atlantean kingdom, like you are since your oath. In due course, we will swear them in collectively. For now, we are working on getting them settled into their new environment. It would be useless to have them swear to something they do not understand or believe in. In fact it may take a few years before we can do so."

"Paschal's explanation should satisfy you, Jefferson. Let's get going. Harp, how about bringing Spare Ribs with us? It needs to do some exercise."

"I don't mind. Let me take the proper shape."

After Harp had shifted shape, everyone noticed that Jefferson was whiter then paper.

"I told you we could shift shape earlier," Paschal reminded him gently.

"It's one thing hearing it, it's another seeing it!"

Harp took Spare Ribs by the neck and began walking down the hallway, much to the indignation of the kitten, which kept protesting virulently as the procession progressed toward the Royal quarters' exit. Paschal and the other princes turned left to go to the archives, while Harp, Sitar, Viola, Harold, Annabelle and Iridia continued toward the hospital. As they exited the Royal Quarters, Samson and Diamondcutter exchanged glances.

"I wonder how Harp is going to raise that kitten! It's a beauty, but it has one big temper!" commented Samson.

"No bigger then Harp's!" replied Diamondcutter.

"I just hope his brother is as vigorous!" Ian exclaimed from behind them. "I plan on adopting it!"

"Diamondcutter, I just realized we are living with a collection of nutcases!"

"You noticed just now? You must be getting old, my friend!"

"You two are walking on thin ice!" replied Ian, smiling evilly.

***

The procession to the General Hospital was quick. The healers were well organized and their records thorough. It took only ten minutes to pull out the files on Violin and Piano. Both were still in the custody of the hospital, in the psychiatric ward section of the stasis chambers. Their physical condition had been dismal when they had been recovered from the brothel, showing repeated signs of physical and sexual abuses, and a considerable collection of sexually transmitted diseases, some which required a full rewiring of their nervous system to eradicate the viruses. The result was that, even if their health was on the mend, their mental state was still far from functional. According to the healers, they still had another month of therapy to undergo, which meant that, given the time dilatation principle applied to these chambers, represented thirty years of intense de-conditioning and reconditioning. Paschal had explained to the healers how to introduce dreams into the suspended animation so that people would feel less disoriented when they exited the stasis chamber.

Other records showed that two boys, named Banjo and Cello had passed within the hospital complex for treatment of physical conditions. They had then been returned to the general population under Thebes pending further processing.

"OK. Now we know they are all alive, boys. Let's go join Paschal."

"Before we do that, let's check on that pussy cat's brother, dad."

"All right Sitar."

The royals moved to the Ark section of the General Hospital, and found the kitten still immersed in physiological liquid.

"Is it ready for release?" asked Harold to the healer.

"Yes, Sire. But to whom?"

Just then, Harp growled hard from behind the party of visitors as he let Spare Ribs down on the floor. The healer jumped right over a couple of stasis chambers, trying to climb a wall in fear. Naturally, Spare Ribs smelled the fear and hopped on the top of the nearest stasis chamber, adding his own growl to the noise level. It took a crouching position, ready to jump the poor healer, tail swashing left and right violently, four-inch claws fully extended, eyes narrowed into tiny slits.

Sitar didn't hesitate: he converted to a dragon boy, well aware that the skin would be able to resist the claws and teeth of the over-enthusiastic kitten. He grabbed the kitten by the neck and lifted it up, much to the kitten's avowed threats of retribution.

«Ian! Get your butt here! Your kitten is ready for release!» thundered Sitar across the telepathic link.

Ian did not need a second invitation and quietly popped to the room.

"What did that one do?"

"It was getting ready to test its hunting techniques on a healer. Yours is still in there."

"Ok. Start the release cycle!" ordered Ian as Harp moved to stand beside him, still in his feline form.

The cat, still sedated, was gradually taken out of the physiological liquid, its breathing cycle kick-started, and then it got dried before it was taken out of the chamber. The kitten opened its blue eyes to look around and mewled loudly, protesting its empty stomach. Harp offered milk to the hungry kitten.

"Let's see just how the two share!" wondered Sitar.

Spare Ribs wasn't too thrilled with the idea and made his feelings known loudly. Harp made it clear he would not put up with sibling rivalry by giving a strong swipe at the furious kitten, sending it sliding across the room.

"Well, well! Harp is a no-nonsense mom! Behave or else!" commented Iridia, laughing hard.

Spare Ribs was a stubborn cat and it took a few more paw strikes for the kitten to understand it had to share. Finally it settled down but not without continued protests!

"So, Ian, what name do you want that new ball of trouble to be known by?" Harold asked.

"I had though of Fangs, Chaos, and even of Fangs of Chaos, but then I remembered that these felines are originally from Asia so I decided on Fang Chao. It sounds somewhat Chinese."

"Ok. Fang Chao it is."

"Let's go help Paschal and the others. The girls are well where they are, Viola. Ian, can you carry Fang Chao while your brother deals with Spare Ribs?"

"OK Dad. I think Sitar has the good idea taking a dragon boy form."

"Shouldn't you train into the feline form?" Sitar answered.

"Yes, maybe you're right." Ian changed into a massive male sabre tooth snow leopard. Sitar put Fang Chao on the ground and Ian took it by the skin of the neck to carry. The royal family left the stasis chambers room, to an explosive breath of relief from the poor healer, which just noticed his bladder had relieved itself in his pants during the events, much to his shame. As the two adults carried the kittens along the passages, ahead of the other royals, everyone scampered as soon as they saw the two felines and their charge.

«I thought the people would have learned to expect the unexpected!» Harp told the others.

«It tells us we have a lot to teach still, son.»

Figure 9: Spare Ribs (Right) and his Brother Fang Chao

***

Meanwhile Paschal had distributed the work at the archives. There, things were not as well organized as the staff had a lot more to do and order was synonym with disorder. Paschal was getting pretty frustrated with the whole problem and decided to do something about it right then and there.

"Do you remember the classification of the catalogue that guy had set up when we searched Solon's library?" he asked Enron.

"Yes, he called it the alphabetical order. Let's sort this disaster area by that method. Some people will be furious, but I feel like cutting a few heads."

"First, let's create twenty-six tables!" said Thorsten, as he did so with a simple arm move. "Then we label each table from the first letter to the last. I just dug into that old geezer's mind the order he follows. I don't get why the letters are in that order, but why reinvent the wheel."

"Ok. Next, start sorting those piles. Read the name and see to it they end up on the right table! Let's use magic to speed the process up."

"Hey, wait a second!" said Thorsten, as he looked at the first file. "I have three names in this file! How do we sort that out?"

"Sort them by family name, then by first then second given name," replied Paschal.

"That's easier said then done. That guy has Patrick Martin Karl; is Karl is given or his family name? There is no indication of the family name in this form!"

"Grr! Do we have to do everything? Can't these paper scrapers design a proper form? Let me look at that form Thorsten."

After a few minutes, Paschal was furious. "The idiots were more worried about when he was brought in and released then being able to find the file later on. Magic is in order. I wish Harp was here, he is more subtle then I with magic, and subtlety is in order."

"Is each file linked to its maker?" Typhoon asked.

"Yes, but that isn't going to help us. I doubt these people can remember what they ate this morning!"

"Then is it linked to the proper person of whom it carries the data?"

"Yes. Where are you going with these questions, Typhoon?"

"Well, let's redo the files in a standard form, then we can have them sorted, again by magic. That should take us an hour."

"That's an idea. We each have our piles. Let's standardize the replacement form, then apply magic to duplicate and fill these forms."

The giant archives room became a veritable snowstorm of paper sheets as each form got created from the master, rewritten in a standard manner, and put into the pile, sorted by name, first and second name. The clerks were hollering in rage until Typhoon decided he had enough of their bickering and dunked them in the city sewers, before a visit to the Atlantic to cool their heads off. Once the process was completed, Paschal created huge drawers and placed each pile in them, again labelling each drawer with the proper letters.

"Did anyone see anybody named Cello or Banjo?"

"Yes, Paschal, I found Banjo, and his file is under B - Be," replied Thorsten.

"And I found Cello. His file is in C - Ch, " Anbraxias replied.

"And I found Viola," added Typhoon. "These guys may have been disorganized but they were exhaustive."

"I wonder if we are there?" asked Paschal, as he looked under Pa. "Yes, here I am! I'm lucky they did not record which hand I use to jack off!" as he examined his own file. "Listen to this: Paschal, Imhophet, Prince of Atlantis, Great Grand Master Architect, Grand Master of Magic, Grand Master of Music, Grand Master of the Blade, Animagus (dragon, wolf, horse, zebra, bird, and other unknown species). Age: seventeen thousand years plus, reborn on... adopted by the Harold Thor Horus king of Atlantis on ... Holder of Mitsuko... Capacity at transgender shifting... Seer... Telepath... Telekinesis... Teleportation... Elemental... I wonder what that means? There is even a scale for magic, on the side, logarithmic at that! I'm lucky they don't record when was the last time I took a dump!"

"Don't give them ideas! I already feel violated!" answered Greywolf.

"That other sheet is even more exhaustive and shocking! According to it, I'm the father of sixty-nine dragons, two hundred and six Equines, four hundred ninety Canines, a dozen Elves, fourteen Dwarfs, and twenty-eight Fairies! And I'm the proud father of twelve Centaurs, ten Unicorns, and twenty-four Pegasuses! And there is a placeholder for Trolls, and Humans!"

"It's true you haven't paid your bed dues to our people, Paschal! Quite a few females of our kind await your visit!" Timor said, smiling!

"Given how busy he seems to be already, can you blame him?" commented Typhoon, holding his ribs, as he laughed hard.

"I wonder when you found the time to create the Spiders?" asked Thorsten.

"Here is the sheet about technical work: Spider, Pyramids, Thebes, Kantar... The list is as exhaustive as my bed habits!"

Jefferson looked at the royals, wide-eyed. He dared not say a word.

"Jefferson, I'm sure your own file is as exhaustive as ours. The mages have been feeding the data to these forms. I understand the need for the genetic cross mapping, because it is important we at least prevent incestuous relationships. Given how many descendents we are creating to consolidate the kingdom and its magic this is vital," Paschal told him.

"Anyway, we now know where Cello and Banjo are. Banjo is in room 249 of level B17, and Cello is in room 1348 of level B18. We can go get them," Typhoon said. "My lord, do you wish me to push on the wheelchair to bring Jefferson with us?"

"No, I'm used to it. And I heard the kitten coming, so the search at the hospital must have been conclusive. Did we find any information on Violin and Piano?"

"I did," said Enron. "It said they were at the General Hospital still in stasis. That was all."

Just then the royal party coming from the hospital walked into the room, led by two feral-looking cats carrying kittens.

"I see Spare Ribs has recovered his brother," Typhoon said.

"Did you find any information on my brothers?" asked Viola as he looked at the now very well organized room. "Last time I came here, I was snubbed by the staff, which said they had better things to do."

"Did they? Well, I figure a reminder of whom they serve is in order. Who said that?"

"That guy with murder in his eyes, over there..."

The man disappeared instantly.

"Where did he go?"

"Oh, to the mid-Atlantic to feed a megalodon. That guy's mind cried out loud he was going to kill you for talking," said Sitar. Sitar then looked at the clerks and made a very bone-chilling declaration: "Listen, and listen to me well! You work for the people, not for anyone else, especially not for yourselves! That is a warning, and it will be the last! We work our arses off to make things work in this kingdom, and it is not a collection of pencil pushers that will stall our progress or hinder our work. If you value your life, you kick your butts into gear! We organized this place so things can be found easily. Here, on the wall, is the alphabetical order. I better not discover you still store things by date of arrival! If the date is so important, add it as a field in the record, like we did! By the way, we added an additional sheet to each record: a family tree! Since there are many identical names, each sheet has a sequence number, and the family tree carries not only the name, but also the sequence number of each cross-referenced sheet. Continue that method. One of the royal family or I will do unannounced spot-checks. It has better be implemented correctly! I pity your arse if we do not find Banjo and Cello where they are supposed to be! Since you value data so much, make it your duty that it be both accurate and up to date!"

"I'll add one comment to my son's: we specifically asked for the tracking of Banjo and Cello. They should have been waiting for us upon our return in the royal suite. I will personally see to the execution of the negligent parties if this occurs again!" thundered Harold, as he gripped his Hammer.

The royals left the Archives to a collection of grey faces, shaky legs and wet pants. The travel to level seventeen was a long one, requiring a lot of twists and turns.

"Why didn't you implement elevators, Paschal?" asked Enron, as they turned once more to descend along a gentle slope to reach another level.

"Because I did not trust mechanical devices to survive that long. We can always walk, but if a cable breaks, it can be rather embarrassing."

After an hour, they reached level B17 and walked along the long hallway. The signs were clear, so they did not need to search far and wide for the proper room. The third cross-section indicated that rooms 200 to 249 were on the left and room 250 to 299 were on the right, so the party turned left. It became clear that all even rooms were on the left of the new hallway and the odd rooms were on the right. It took ten minutes to reach room 249. A gentle knock elicited a muffled come in from one of the occupants inside.

Harold opened the door and stood, looking at the dorm. Twenty beds were aligned, ten on a side, with desks between each. A bathroom door was visible at the far end.

"Yes?" asked a man in his late twenties, as he looked at the newcomer with interest.

"I am looking for a man named Banjo. Is he here?"

The man turned toward the waterworks and hollered "Banjo! You got visitors!"

"If it's the foreman, tell him to shove his dick in his own asshole!"

"That doesn't look like any foreman I've seen! For one, he wears decent clothes, and he isn't yelling obscenities!"

"I'll be out in a few minutes, I'm drying up my hair. I need a shave. I wonder where the barber is?"

Harold looked at Sitar questioningly.

"I don't know, dad. Paschal?"

"Sorry, we cleansed up the Archives, but we did not memorize everything. And I have no recollection of a barber in the data we fixed. It may well be it was a secondary task. Anyway without a name or nickname, I can't do anything much. There were quite a few people collected on the day these guys were picked up."

By then, a well-built man walked out of the water room, hair still partially wet, and totally nude.

"What can I do for you?" he asked as he looked at Harold.

"Are you Banjo?"

"Yes, but what is it to you?"

"Before I answer that question, can you name the siblings that got picked up by the Diviner?"

"Sure. My older brother Viola, my younger brother Cello, my oldest sister Piano, and my youngest sister, Violin."

"Then you are the one we are looking for." Harold moved out of the way, and Viola stepped into view, wearing his full legionnaire uniform.

"Good evening, Banjo. Do you recognize me? And you misplaced our order. I was the youngest of the three."

"Viola? That's impossible! The Diviner told us you were dead!"

"He is, not me. As you see, I ended up in the Legions, after I tried to kill him."

"It's a miracle! Have you seen Cello? I met him shortly in a lumber camp before we found ourselves in this place, once again separated!"

"Not yet, Banjo. We are going to pick him up. Get some clothes on. If getting here is any indication, it's a distance away."

"I have no clothes. Everything vanished the moment we found ourselves in that snow field."

"I can explain that, young man. We did not want people trying to kill each other, or hang each other with clothes. If you notice, everything vanishes the moment its legitimate use is completed," said Harold. "Here!"

Harold snapped his fingers, and the man found on his bed a set of clothes and shoes.

"What about us?" the man that had talked to Harold earlier asked.

"You will get clothes as soon as you need them. For now the room is hot enough, and you need none. Follow us, Banjo."

"Hey guys, I don't know what this means, but I won't forget you. If you see the foreman, tell him to go to hell!"

"Why do you want that man in a hot spot?" asked Samson.

"He is one hell of a bad tempered bastard. He yells and punches everyone for the mere pleasure of proving his is stronger then ten of us combined."

"Is that so?" said Harold. "I'll render justice right away. Where is he?"

"In the room right across the hallway."

"Ok. Let's see to justice. Guys, follow us. Do not mind the cats."

They walked out, across the hall, and Harold opened the door without knocking. One huge man was pummelling another savagely.

"Stop it right now!" hollered Harold.

"Shove your attitude where it should have stayed!" replied the big man, as he continued punching the other.

"Timor, stop the fight! Do not kill him right away."

Timor walked in the room and punched the man in the ribs, breaking a couple in the process and sending him flying lengthwise straight into the water closet.

"When I give an order, I get obeyed," said Harold. "Are you the foreman?"

"Yes and that piece of hairy shit is going to get a beating!" the man said as he stood up from the floor.

"I doubt that. Ian! Kill him!"

Ian dropped the kitten he was carrying and walked into the room, growling and baring his huge fangs. Tail swishing heavily he advanced on the man who couldn't back off since he was leaning on the wall already. Ian crunched on his legs and suddenly jumped, his jaws open wide, nine-inch long claws fully extended. The attack was so fast the man could do nothing to escape his fate. In less then two seconds he lay dead on the floor.

"Justice is done," Harold said coldly. "Ian, take human form so the others understand we are not to be played with!"

Ian took his four and a half year old boy form, much to the awe of the onlookers. Fang Chao walked in, smelling the blood.

"Better intercept him before he has a taste," said Paschal as he took the form of a huge cat himself, and picked up the kitten.

"Get back to your rooms, gentlemen. The show is over," said Enron as the body and blood vanished out of sight.

"Banjo, follow us. We have a lot of talking to do while we go collect your other brother." Harold said as he turned around to leave the room. The dumbfounded and shocked onlookers heard "Enron, I need Harp in his human form, could you take over the kitten?"

A second later, from far away, was heard another comment.

"Ian, you better brush your teeth and use dental floss if you plan on spending the night in the nest with us! You got beasty breath!" accompanied by a cacophony of fading laughter.

***

As they progressed toward the next ramp, Viola explained things to Banjo.

"Well, you see these two with circlets on their heads, princes Harp and Sitar? They are our youngest siblings. I sort of had a vague memory of Sitar but not of Harp. Mom and dad are both dead, Banjo. Dad died from a hunting accident and mom from an orc attack. All the others that were between our two oldest sisters and Sitar were killed during the attack on the family homestead, if I understood all the complicated explanations these two gave me."

"What bothers me is all the prince thing. I don't have any blue blood! From the number of cuts I had to put up with, I know it's pretty red!"

"That's another thing we'll have to talk about. I have to ask you, Banjo, did you ever witness some special events that you couldn't explain?"

"What kind of event? There were lots since we last saw each other."

"Events that seemed strange at the time, that no one could explain, or that occurred only when you were around?"

"I do remember one event; an axe handle broke and the axe head was heading my way but suddenly it flew off rather then hit me. I never understood what happened and I never talked about it. We were two working in tandem cutting branches and the guy that broke his axe never saw anything. Given how sorcery was very badly viewed in the lumber industry, I never raised the question with anyone. But now that I've seen what I've seen, I feel relieved of that immense pressure."

"Has it ever occurred to you that it might be you that deflected the incoming blade?"

"Yes it has, but, as I said, it was better kept to oneself."

"Apparently, magic runs in the family. Harp, Sitar, and now I all do magic to a certain degree. I am learning the ropes under the guidance of Harp. Sitar is training me in weapons. I thought I was a legionnaire until I met that group. Now I know I was a tenderfoot playing boy soldier."

"Do you think Cello is also capable of magic?"

"I do not see why not. Paschal, the one carrying the kitten on the left, explained to me we are re-emerging from some distant past, a number of years I can't even get my mind around. It's because we are Atlanteans that magic is so strong in our family. Don't ask me where Atlantis is, they told me, but they lost me. Enron, the king of Elves, is carrying the other kitten. I'll explain to you all the kingdoms and their relations tomorrow, when we are all fully rested. Harp and Sitar have a tendency to assume that we know things."

***

Just about then, the royals reached door 1348 and Harold knocked.

A man opened the door to Harold.

"What?" he asked rather gruffly. "Can't we sleep in peace?"

"I suggest you change tone if you want to be able to sleep at all," replied Harold. "You might find yourself in the dungeons otherwise! Now, move aside so my party and I can step in."

The icy tone employed by Harold, and the intimidating presence of Timor, convinced the ill-mannered man to move out of the way. The room was dark, as everyone seemed to be sleeping. Harp used Bata to create light in the room waking up everyone, some of which were pretty grumpy.

"Be quiet or I'll give you good reason to be grumpy!" thundered Harp, just as the two leopards walked in and stood looking menacingly at the group. Silence fell on the assembled men.

"I am looking for Cello. Is he here?" asked Harold, in the quiet room.

"I am here, what do you want of me?"

"Do you know who is this man?" asked Harold as he moved aside to reveal Banjo.

"Yes, that is my brother Banjo. What is wrong with him?"

"Nothing's wrong. We are here to reunite what is left of your family. The Royal Archives are very exhaustive, and we are now in the process of undoing the work of the Diviners. You should be able, within the next year, to recover all your family if they are alive; if they are dead and we have their body, we will also give you the information so you can put to rest your loved ones. Please be patient. Cello, come with us. You are the first, because your brothers are already part of the Royal family."

Again, Harold materialized clothes for Cello, which quickly put them on before accompanying the royal party out and back to the Royal Quarters.

"We'll talk about everything tomorrow, Cello. It's nearly matins and we are all tired. Just let me do a quick introduction to your other brothers to refresh your memory. You might not remember or recognize. To my left is Sitar, to my right is Harp, and beside him is Viola. Your two sisters are still in the hospital."

"I was going to ask about them. Thanks for the update, sir."

"You do not seem to be too shocked by magic, Cello."

"No sir, I know I'm a mage. I met one guy once, and he tried to impress me with some tricks; I answered in kind and he told me so. He told me I should report to some Keep west, but I was more interested in finding my brothers and sisters and returning home. He never told me his name."

"Do you have a good control over your magic?"

"Good enough to have influenced the dice game that had Banjo and I reunited. I had seen him and decided to do something about it. I almost overdid it too. The loser called the other a cheater and claimed the dices were doctored, until the other guy reminded him they were his dices."

"What happened?"

"Twenty-four double-six in a row. And by then the losing party had lost so much it took some push for the winner to contend himself with Banjo. I did not want anyone else, especially not another foreman, so I had to influence their mind."

"You do have good control Cello, very good control. I'll have fun teaching you magic," replied Harp as he looked at his older brother.

"Just don't take his temper as well!" exclaimed Harold, laughing.

"Dad, you better check your arse!"

"Dad?" both Banjo and Cello exclaimed, looking at Harold and Harp questioningly.

"I adopted Harp and Sitar. I plan on adopting Viola and you two, as well as your two sisters, as soon as they are out of the stasis chambers."

"Why are they still in there? And what is a stasis chamber?"

"A stasis chamber is an oblong container where you are immersed for physical treatment. You both passed through it to remove any infection, scars and other physical damage due to genetics or work. You do not remember because you were unconscious during the entire procedure. As for why they are still in there, I'll let Harp explain."

"Dad, you do have a way of giving us the hardest work. Fine. I'll be direct. Violin and Piano were both raped by the Diviners. They were trained to be prostitutes. The physical aspects are dealt with. It is the psychological damage that takes time to heal. The healers say it will be done within thirty days."

"I'll kill them all!" exploded Cello, as a flash of light left his body.

"It's done already. I got rid of the Diviners, and also of the customers that abused them. You'll have to find another way of discharging your fury, Cello," said Harp.

"Don't complain, he didn't even leave me one, the selfish brat!" explained Sitar. "And you do have our temper. That energy blast was powerful enough to bring the house down, if I had not absorbed it."

"Anyway, brothers, may I introduce you to prince Jefferson, the legitimate ruler of the now defunct United Kingdoms of Americus?" said Harp as he pointed to the boy in a wheelchair.

The introductions were brief, as neither Banjo nor Cello knew anything about protocol. By then, it was a few minutes past matins and they were still a long way from their destination.

"Harp, port us directly to the royal suite, if you don't mind? I think Jefferson is just about ready to fall off the chair from fatigue."

"OK. Banjo, Cello, take a breath and release it slowly. I want you to relax while I do the porting."

"What about Viola? Or the kittens?" asked Cello.

"The kittens are not so aware of their environment to freak out during a port; Viola has been in so many he lost count."

"Ok."

A second later the party found itself into the royal suite; the two kittens were put into their respective boxes for the night as the two adult cats recovered their human form.

"May I be excused, I must report to my unit, your majesty," said Viola as he looked at Harold.

"Your centurion was notified of tonight's events, Viola. You are to stay in your suite here for tonight. Harp, Sitar, bring your brothers to their sleeping quarters. It is time we retire. Prime comes early, especially when the sky is still dark in the morning."

"I will bring you to the hospital tomorrow so you can see for yourself that Piano and Violin are ok," offered Paschal as he looked at Banjo and Cello. "Viola, follow me, I do not think you know where your own suite is in this labyrinth. Greywolf go rest. Bushy Tail Fox is in charge of this shift, until four. Then Silver Moon takes over until eight."

"I just hope he won't have to feed them tonight. I can understand Harp's distress! Last night's feeding of Spare Ribs was an experience I do not wish to repeat too often! That little bugger has claws! And I felt the teeth every time! I'll be sore for a week. Aren't we lucky it's baby teeth!"

"He'll have some issues. He has a lot of trouble shifting shape to an Equine; I do not think he is ready for a sex change yet. He is frustrated, but persistent. I'll inform him to call upon one of us if the need arises."

"Knowing how dedicated he is, he will try the change first."

"I know. It's by trying that you learn; he'll make a few mistakes, but he'll learn."

"Anyway, guys, I'm planning to wean them both during the week, and start them on a meat diet. That should ease your tit problem!" said Harp. "Come with me, Jefferson, it's too late to get you back to your room, we have enough guests rooms around here you can sleep in one of them. Your two wolf guards will be with you. And yes, they are wolves, not oversized dogs. They do good bed warmers, don't they?"

"That promises to be an interesting week. Weaning babies is their first true experience with frustration. If their current character is any indication, Spare Ribs and Fang Chao will give us a run for our money!" exclaimed Samson as he listened to the exchange. "I know what I'm talking about!" as he looked accusingly at Enron. "Everything went flying off the high chair the day I introduced you to semi-solid food!"