Cretaceous Clay and The Black Dwarf, Page 2

  ~~~~~~

  “Princess, your guests are here.”

  “Great, Anna, let’s go.” Anna handed her a shawl, and she slipped it on.

  “Tonight, we’re having a good time. Call me Virginia, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Virginia peeked out of her door and saw no one in the hall. The two girls left her suite, and tip toed towards the exit. Anna hobbled in her tight gown, her heels clicked and clacked across the marble floor.

  “Never wore any high heels before?” Virginia stopped her.

  “No, ma’am, it’s my first time.”

  “Follow me, and do as I do. If you keep making that racket, we’ll never get out of here without getting caught.”

  “Virginia!” said her father in that tone, which told her he had overheard.

  “Yes, daddy?” she turned around and sighed.

  Her father was King of Nodlon, and he was used to command, but she never felt like one of his subjects. Once in a while he barked, but they both knew she was the apple of his eye. After her mother passed away, he had doted on her. Still, he tried.

  “Where are you going, young lady?”

  “To see Cretaceous Clay, it’s the last Winter Show for this year.”

  “Yes, I saw the bill on your expense report. Maybe my tax collectors should audit Jack Jack and his Clay-players.” Her father looked chagrined.

  “Oh no, I bought the entire upper balcony and gave away the tickets to the biot students at Tollmerak. As a princess, I need to invest in popularity.”

  The old man’s eyebrow lifted, and he nodded. “Likely as not that may be true, certainly cannot hurt your reputation. All right, I’ll approve the expenditure, but ask first next time.”

  “Okay, great,” she made to leave, but he put out his hand to stop her.

  “Stop evading the issue, my future politician. Virginia, I’ve told you to take protection when you go out.”

  “Oh, dad, how can we relax with those stiffs hanging around?”

  “Virginia, how can I relax worrying about my baby coming home as a stiff?” Two goblins with shoulders as wide as a door appeared from an inconspicuous nook dressed in evening attire.

  “Dad,” she whined. If she wanted to go out tonight, she had to stop him before he began lecturing her on politics and decorum, poker and diplomacy, and war versus the economy. Someday, she might be Queen of Nodlon, he would say, and she had to be ready. True, but tonight, she was still a teenager, and she had a date with a dreamy officer candidate studying at the Naval Academy.

  “We think Martian agents are operating in Nodlon. With Nogora threatening to blockade Saturn, I cannot let you wander the city without security.”

  “Dad, I’m packing a mini-blaster right here,” she patted her purse; “I could take out Genghis Khan and have juice to spare.”

  Her father crossed his arms, and she knew she had lost. She had no idea why he was more worried now, but then again she was not privy to his security briefings.

  She sighed and rolled her eyes, “Daddy, I’ll take big and thick, but I think you’re overreacting.” The goblins immediately put on their sunglasses.

  Her friends waited in the lobby. Millie and Burt made a matched set, and Zachary was stunning in his uniform. And with them was a black dwarf who looked terribly uncomfortable in his tuxedo.

  “Hi, Millie,” she hugged her friend. “You must be Burt.”

  “Yes, princess,” Burt bowed and kissed her hand.

  She giggled, and looked the dwarf in the eye. “And who might you be?”

  He looked down at his shoes, and bowed low. “Nicholas, ma’am,” said the dwarf, “I’m Master Decatur’s yeoman.” He scratched the black microchip in his forehead nervously, and then put his hands behind him.

  “Well, Nicholas, this is Anna. She’s filling in for Nadia my handmaiden who is out sick. Would you mind escorting her?”

  “No, ma’am, if it’s all right with her.” Nicholas spoke softly and never looked up.

  “Anna, will accompany Nicholas?” The maid nodded and mumbled something inaudible. Virginia took her hand and squeezed it. “We’re having fun tonight. Let’s all be friends.”

  “Now that we all have a date, let me introduce our chaperones. Sorry, about that, but daddy seems to think we need an escort. Sylvester, Karl, say hello.”

  “Hello,” they said in unison.

  She started to say something and thought better of it. “Sylvester and Karl may look tough, but in reality, they are. I don’t think we’d be any safer if we had a pair of Mark Five’s.” Millie giggled, and the boys squirmed under the glare of the sunglasses. They took the King’s private elevator to the garage, and piled into one of the black airships from her father’s fleet. A stylish flyer would be cool, but she knew her security detail would never fit in her sporty, little Andromeda even if she could get Sylvester to agree.

  Bread and Circuses

  Fans jammed the Circus chanting, “Jack! Jack! Jack!” Electric riffs tore the air, and bass drums drowned out the fans with heart-pounding balls of sound. The Rockhounds levitated over the auditorium, and the crowd leapt to its feet screaming. Many fans wore costumes based on the characters Cretaceous Jack had created.

  Virginia pushed the dwarves to the front of the royal box. The dwarves would have stared at the back of the elves’ heads all evening. Sylvester and Arnold took their places, and the rest of her guests settled in for the evening.

  Zachary slapped Burt on the shoulder. “There’s no sign of a waiter. Let’s get the drinks,” said Zachary. Everyone called out a favorite, and the young men departed in search of refreshments.

  The curtain shield dissolved to reveal a mock castle. Goblins, elves, and dwarves in a myriad of costumes waved from the parapets. The drawbridge dropped and the crowd thundered as Clay dashed from the castle, and waved to the fans. The Rockhounds lowered the beat, waiting for the magician to hit his mark on a round stage in the center of the auditorium.

  Teenage girls screamed and cheered. An elf reached over the barrier to touch the drawbridge and pitched over the barrier. Jack jumped between the stage and the rail and the yelling subsided.

  Kneeling over the prostrate girl, he assisted her, “Are you all right?” The question blared over the public address system. Assured she was fit, he helped her up. The crowd cheered.

  He levitated back to the stage. More girls swooned and rather than risk a stampede of frisky teenage girls, he retreated.

  “Welcome everybody! Let’s just have a good time, and we don’t want any accidents tonight.”

  Zachary and Burt returned with drinks and snacks. “Did we miss anything?” asked Burt.

  “No, they’re just getting started,” said Virginia.

  Millie giggled. “Some kid tried to brain herself to touch Jack’s breeches.”

  With a flick of his wrist, the magician began the show. Leprechauns and trolls, nymphs and dragons came alive. Illusions and dancers cavorted together across the stage and around the auditorium.

  He created an ice board, and surfed around the Circus. Jack’s board left an icy path. As he flew, seven flaming rings formed over the audience. Jack jumped through the rings. Her stomach jumped as the magician zipped through the flames.

  Dwarf ballerinas danced along the path with nyads, dryads, and fauns. Snowflakes fell from the roof and an elf maiden dropped from the ceiling.

  Zooming across the Circus on his ice board the magician caught the falling elf. He set her on the icy path, and she joined the ballerinas. She pirouetted around the path, bounding over the animals, and dancing with the dwarves.

  Goblins in black leapt from behind curtains onto the stage and cracked blazing fire whips. Balls of fire burst over the stage. Trolls and malevolent elves joined goblin sorcerers and imperiled the mage and his dancers. Fire and ice in operatic proportions filled the evening as the magician fought and vanquished each of his imaginary foes.

  All too soon, the s
how wound up to the climax. “Dragon!” chanted the crowd.

  The Rockhounds broke into a new beat, and the crowd screamed.

  High above the Circus, a tornado dropped through the halo of stage lights hanging over the Circus. Lightning flashed. The tornado dipped to the stage. Out of the tornado a red dragon attacked the mage. Clay battled the dragon. He pitted his magic against the dragon’s nuclear breath. After several gags, he summoned a sword, and vanquished the dragon by piercing the soft spot over its heart.

  The magician levitated over the dragon’s ruin, and pushed his ice board through a victory lap. Thinning to translucence, the illusions dissolved into a mist, and the mage closed the show with an astronomical display. The Milky Way swirled over the fans, and they sped through the stars in the outer spiral arm. The stars zoomed into the solar system, onto the Earth, and dissolved into a mist.

  Clay landed on the end of the drawbridge. Bowing deeply to each section of the stadium, he thanked the fans. “Next week we begin our spring show. Come and see Celia, Easy Cooper, and all the way from the Moon, our special guest the Minotaur! Also, in honor of May Day, I will be appearing on the mall at the Renaissance Faire to autograph your vids, tee-shirts, and anything else your mother will let me sign.” Hooting and hollering joined the chorus of cries and thunderous applause.

  Clay waved at the royal box, and a spotlight fell on the princess and her entourage. Embarrassed, Virginia stood up and waved. “Everyone stand up,” she muttered. “That means you Nicholas, go ahead, wave back at everybody.” Enthused by her appearance, the crowd screamed and applauded.

  “Put your hands together,” shouted Clay. “Welcome your favorite and ours, Princess Virginia!” In the balcony, the girls screamed.

  “Princess Virginia generously supported our show tonight. On behalf of all of you, and especially from my heart, I want to say thank you.” Clay bowed and then rejoined the cast.

  Biots

  A faded bronze star graced Jack’s dressing room door. The rest of the cast shared two large locker rooms, divided between the men and the women. Given the division of labor, his dancers had plenty of space, while the men waited for the showers. He did not think of himself as a prima donna, but he had taken the star’s room for the privacy. A locker room was hardly the place for a shy, introverted elf.

  Two burly goblins guarded his door in black tuxedos and sunglasses. He thought of the Crown’s legendary men in black, and wondered if his taxes were paid. Jack briefly suppressed an urge to flee.

  “Evening, Mr. Clay,” said one with a spray of gray on his temples, “Please go in.” The other goblin tapped the door box. The door slid aside. “Princess Virginia hopes you will join her. She looks forward to seeing you.”

  From the goblin’s tone, Jack had the feeling that refusing the invitation was not an option.

  Inside, Jasmine leaned back in one of the makeup chairs, and the Princess occupied the other. They were discussing the advantages of whale bone corsets over plastic ones.

  For a princess, Virginia looked more like a child than an heir-apparent to the throne. She cut a petite figure in a pink gown with a matching tiara, which clung desperately to a pony tail that fell to her waist.

  “Princess Virginia,” he said, placing his hand over his heart, “I am honored.” Bending a knee, he knelt and said, “How may we help you?”

  “Recover, Master Clay,” said the Princess. “Please, call me Virginia.”

  “Why of course, Virginia,” said Jack. “My friends call me Jack. It’s easier to pronounce than Cretaceous and much easier to spell.”

  “Master Jack it is, sir,” she placed her hands in lap, and introduced her friends. The shy, young man in the naval uniform tugged at his collar. The others teenagers mumbled as the magician greeted them, and stumbled into an awkward silence. The two dwarves hugged the wallpaper.

  “Virginia, thank you for coming,” said Jack trying to break the ice. You enjoyed the show, I hope?”

  “Yes,” she spoke so softly he could barely hear. “And I saw my coat of arms flying from the castle. Was I the damsel in distress?”

  “Thank you, Princess,” he smiled. “Please don’t mistake my show for a political statement. We flew your banner for your kindness in supporting the show.”

  “Oh,” she said with a hint of disappointment, “father asked what I wanted for my birthday, and I told him I wanted to go to your show with friends.”

  “King Justin must have been surprised. Not even I can afford to buy the upper balcony.”

  “Daddy was surprised, but he can’t say no to me. I pretty much blew my expense account, but I told daddy I was buying popularity. From his expression, I know he was impressed with my political calculations.”

  “It’s very generous of you. Tollmerak called my publicist to find out what was going on. Not to be ungrateful, but wasn’t there anything you wanted for yourself?”

  “Master Jack, what can a princess want? I’m hardly deprived,” she giggled. “I have my own Andromeda flyer and the best view of the city from the tallest tower.”

  “My lady, I’m sure the King is proud of you,” he said, impressed. “Such maturity is rare for one of such tender years.” Nodlon’s aristocracy rarely showed any such humility in public, much less their offspring.

  “Flattery will get you almost everywhere, Master Jack.”

  “If you’re not here for autographs, how can I help?”

  “Daddy said I’d make a great politician.”

  “My lady, I agree with your father, but aren’t you a bit young to be canvassing for support? The King is forty-seven years young and fit as a fiddle.”

  “Master Jack, I am not here to gain the support of the biots. I need support for the biots. May I ask a service of you off the record?”

  “Off the record, Virginia?”

  “Daddy doesn’t know I’m here to ask for your help. This is very sensitive, and no one must know I came to you. I’m sure you can appreciate the delicacy of these matters.”

  “I promise no word of what you share tonight shall pass my lips.”

  “The council postponed consideration of daddy’s manumission plan. The Council thinks there’s no time for discussing the plight of biots.”

  “What of Mars?” he asked. “War is in the air.”

  “Master Jack, it has nothing to do with the war. Baron Voltaire and his accomplices in Parliament simply want to delay a vote.”

  “Perhaps they’re right? Mars is hell-bent to start a war. The colony was a poverty-stricken dictatorship when I was born. Now it’s a threat. Their ambassador warned the Middle Kingdom and the Empire of the Sun to mind their own business. Elysium declared neutrality. Now Nodlon stands alone. None of us can enjoy the gift of freedom, if we haven’t got the gift of life.”

  “We will win,” she asserted. “Though my heart fears the cost may be high in blood and lives. But we will win. Will we then rebuild Nodlon with free labor or indentured biots?”

  “Princess Virginia, surely we must defend Nodlon. If your father must defend Nodlon, all of us must support him regardless of personal political differences.”

  “We have a majority in the Parliament. He knows the council wants to manumit the biots and extend citizenship to them. The war is an excuse to stall manumission. They hope the war will end the movement, and they won’t be held accountable.”

  “The Baron won’t give up easily. I’ve met him. He’s been a guest here at the Circus. He’s a cunning genius. He has fingers in every vice in Nodlon. If we expose his abuse of biots, his immoral enterprises will crater, and his revenues will fall. And he has many followers who enjoy the services his businesses provide. He will fight, and he will lie. If his followers don’t act, he has goons and thugs who will.”

  “Heady stuff,” Jack said. “Who’s filling your head with subversive thoughts?”

  “No stain can be washed away without effort. Master Cato says the Baron will blame us for his crimes, and future his
tory will tell the story of how little my father did for the synthetic people. Likely as not, he’s right. It’s happened before.”

  “Virginia, what made you think of me, I’m not a politician?” Clay waved his hands in futility. “Many Nodlon’s think there’s nothing special about being human. They think humans are just animals who pollute the planet.”

  “A well-known entertainer posted his opinions under a thinly disguised pseudonym on a subversive website. Biots laugh, cry, bleed, and they dream. Biots are people, too, Master Jack.”

  “Princess, you’ve caught me,” Clay expressed mock surprise. “Guess my opinions are hardly confidential when I post them on Clay-net.”

  “Yes, Master Jack,” said the little princess. “If you lead, the people will follow. You will be their champion. Use Clay-net to support manumission. Help the biots! And the Crown will support the people’s champion, too. I promise you that.” She pulled ring from a pocket in her sash, and held it out to Jack. “Take this,” she said, offering him the ring. “My signet ring bears the seal of the House of Justin. The ruby represents the heart of a virgin. Take the ring as a sign of my favor. All who love me will honor the sign.”

  “My lady,” Clay gulped, wondering if a teenager had the power to give away the ring. “What makes you think I am the people’s champion?”

  “Because you care, and you can help,” she coughed, and her cheeks flushed. “My father cares, but he prepares for war. I care, but no one must know I am the source of this information.”

  “Princess Virginia,” said Jack, “I love your spunk, and I’m grateful for friendship, but what has any of this to do with a magician? I do illusions, fireworks, and special effects.” Clay waved his hands. “Look ma, no technology.” He cocked a wry smile and mocked himself, “Hey, mage, shut up and pull a rabbit out of a hat. And I can’t even do that by the way without an old vaudevillian sleight of hand trick.” To illustrate, he picked up his hat and feigned pulling a rabbit out of it.

  “We need to oppose the Baron openly. If Nodlon’s human citizens can criticize him, and speak against him, openly and without fear of personal destruction, the biots may have a chance. Create that pressure, Master Jack. Mock him, humiliate him, scorn him, and make Nodlon laugh at him, and he’ll melt like a wicked witch. We won’t have to rely on me pretending to get an autograph from Jack Clay to leak the Council’s business and betrayals.”

  “To push the Baron, we need pressure, lots of pressure. More than a few laughs can drum up. The Baron is no tin-pot dictator like Nogora who will implode if a jester mocks him.”

  “Master Jack, change is in the air. Everywhere you go, it’s at the malls, in the stalls, and on the walls, and it’s on the Net,” she said. “We can shut down speech anytime. We can harass anyone or intimidate them into submission, but we cannot mend broken hearts. Nodlon’s heart is broken. Her children cry in the night. I can hear them.” A tear ran down her cheek.

  Clay quickly handed her a handkerchief and she daubed her eyes.

  “Thank you. I can see the children in my dreams. I know what goes on in Deep Nodlon, and it’s got to stop.” Her face flushed, and she tried to control her emotions. “The Crown wants what’s best for Nodlon. My father wants what’s best for Nodlon. And I want what’s best for Nodlon. We have a majority in Parliament and almost a majority on the Council. Will you help us?”

  “As you command,” Clay knelt, and accepted her ring. “I want what’s best for Nodlon too, though I’m not sure what I can do.” He put the ring on, and bent to kiss her hand. “I will do what I can, Princess.”

  “Master Jack, please,” she smiled. “Would you mind autographing our tee-shirts?”

  “Oh, not at all, Princess,” he autographed shirts, posters, and vids for all of the Princess’ friends. Even Sylvester and Karl stepped forward.

  Sylvester held out a shirt with Jasmine imperiled by his blue dragon. “Would you sign this for ‘Julie’ Mr. Clay?”

  “Sure Sylvester. Is she your daughter?”

  “My wife, Mr. Clay. She’s a big fan.”

  “Anything else?” Clay held out his hands, “I’ll sign anything your mother will let me sign.” A chorus of ‘thank you’ greeted him and no one stepped forward. Mentally checking, he was one person short. The Princess Virginia held back nervously.

  “Nothing for the Princess? Don’t you want something signed too?”

  “Well,” she reached into her bag, and pulled out a tee-shirt. On the front, he and Jasmine burst from a circle of fire. He autographed her shirt.

  The Princess held out her hand, and Clay gently kissed her. “Shake silly,” she giggled, “Protocol is for occasions of state.”

  He bid her and her friends farewell four or five times and ushered them out of his door.

  Jack and Jazz

  Closing the dressing room door, he spun on his heel, flopped against the door, held out his arms and looked up to heaven. “Good grief, now she wants me to free the biots.”

  “No need for histrionics boyfriend,” Jasmine mocked him. “She’s right you know.”

  Jack slipped behind a Shoji screen to change. Stretching himself to his full height, he looked over the screen at his fiancée. “I may be Personality Web’s Biot of the Year, but if I cross the Baron, I’ll be swimming with the cave crabs at the bottom of the Ninth Ring of Nodlon.” He emerged in a working elf’s coveralls.

  “You’re the people’s champion, Jack.” She took his hand. “See she even gave you a ring to prove it. I haven’t even given you my ring yet, and you’re taking friendship rings from strange teenager girls.”

  “She’s not just a teenage girl. She’s the heir to the throne of Nodlon. It wouldn’t do for the court jester to cross her.” He hugged Jasmine, and she pushed him away.

  “Boys are so black and white,” she grinned to reassure him. “Let’s go,” she said, and threw her things in her bag.

  “I’m right behind you.”

  They walked empty halls and stairs to the lift lobby and down to the parking garages far below.

  His flyer sat in a reserved spot. White with golden pin stripes, and a smooth wedge for a nose, her sporty curves broke the sound barrier even while parked. Clay allowed himself the conceit of a little pride. For seventeen years, he worked to get where he was. He had started doing special effects at the Circus, and performed on the sidewalks on Nodlon’s great mall. He moved on to pubs, private gigs, and the annual faire. Now he had a star’s parking space in the Circus garage. He entertained thousands, and kept hundreds employed.

  He thumbed the remote and the little flyer unlocked itself. Her generator purred. Clay circled the flyer, and stood next to Jasmine’s door. It was an unnecessary show of gallantry. The machine sensed her presence and opened her door.

  “Ever the gentle ham,” Jasmine laughed. She gave him a peck and climbed in.

  He climbed into the driver’s seat and disengaged the autopilot. He put the flyer into ground effect mode, and the levitators lifted her off the pavement.

  Guiding the flyer onto the eastbound level-way, he merged with the traffic and slid into the fast lane. In the morning’s wee hours, only a few vehicles shared the road. Unimpeded, he pushed his speed to the limit and let the flyer cruise on ground effect. Overhead, the blue lights of Nodlon illuminated the level-way.