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Stories from the Verse
Con Version
Chapter 174: Brown 346
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Takano 137
Michael Gabriel blinked, and the world around him changed. Vashti was asleep on the ground beside him, and he was holding his trumpet, but New Orleans was gone, Maurice was gone, Pierre was gone, Lei was gone, the world was gone.
The Devil was gone.
This was a new world.
He hoped he could change back into Derek Jacob Brown, and barely had he thought it but he did. He did not feel as if he had radiated a burst of energy, so that told him a couple things, one that there was at least a fair amount of magic in this world, and the other that he could probably change back easily enough if needed.
He decided to sit there and catch his breath. It had been a grueling six months, but he had reason to believe he had saved the city. Being a hero was always interesting, usually different, and often tiring. Right now he just wanted to be Derek, married to Vashti.
It was a minute or two before she stirred. “What time is it?” she asked.
That was a perfectly reasonable and ordinary question, and there was no real reason for him to laugh at it, so he restrained his laughter and simply answered, “I have no idea. I’m not even sure what world it is.”
This caused her to open her eyes and sit up abruptly.
“It happened again, didn’t it?”
“Yes, but I think we won.”
She bit her lip in that cute way she did, pondering for a moment before saying, “Yes, I think we did. So, what now?”
“We’re a few miles from some of our things, like our bedding, but we’re also a few dozen yards from the things we left by the cathedral. I was told the Bishop ordered the cathedral knocked down to provide stones to reinforce the dike; hopefully our equipment wasn’t damaged. But the sooner we find it the less likely it will be that someone else will go through it and help themselves.”
He stood, and helped her to her feet. They had a few pieces scattered right around them, which they recovered first. and then using parallax Derek decided which of the two longer vectors was the nearer. Recovering the trumpet case he put his instrument into it, picked up the few other items stowed with it, and made sure Vashti was also ready.
They were on the edge of a city in a river valley between some rather tall mountains. Fortunately the vector to their equipment skirted both. Derek worried when having cleared the last of the urbanized area he saw the river ahead, but it happened that their shack must have been about fifty yards from its shore, and although they spent maybe fifteen minutes gathering and packing their belongings they soon had everything. The robot was fully functional. Since he didn’t want to leave it behind and couldn’t think of another option, he had it accompany them carrying some of their gear.
It looked to be early afternoon.
“What next?” she asked.
“Feel that?”
“The other verser?”
“I don’t know a better way to find out what’s happening in this world than to find a verser who’s already here and ask.”
She nodded. “This way then.”
This took them into the city, over the river on a bridge, past a large railroad terminal, and several miles. Along the way Derek tried to gather information. There were a lot of cars, old enough that he couldn’t quite be certain of the decade but certainly a lot more recent than those in New Orleans. The city had plenty of stores, plenty of businesses, warehouses, even a few factories, and crowds of people. Why, he wondered, would a verser choose to live in a crowded, dirty, polluted place like this? Well, maybe he’d ask.
The sense led them to a large stone church--Presbyterian--but not to the church itself, to the pastor’s house behind it. That struck him as strange. He thought it would take a lot of years for a verser to establish himself in a world as a pastor, enough time that it would be obvious he wasn’t aging. But the scriff sense clearly led to that house, so he walked up, Vashti a step behind him, and knocked on the door. He took a deep breath.
The door was opened by a black man about fifty, mostly bald. “May I help you?” he said.
“Pardon me, Pastor,” he began. “My name is Derek Brown, and this is my wife Vashti--”
Before he could say more there was what was almost a squeal from the hall beyond, as a girl’s voice said, “You’re Derek Brown! And Vashti! Lauren told me so much about you!” A Japanese teenager came into view.
“Um--I’m afraid she never mentioned you.”
“Well, that’s not surprising. She was in my last world for a while, and I guess hasn’t really been gone that long. My name's Tommy--Tomiko Takano. This is Brian Barrelmaster. He’s newer to all of this than I am, and I’m still pretty new. Come on in, I’ll see what I can scratch up for you to eat, you can get cleaned up, and we’ve got a spare bedroom, although we don’t have sheets or blankets for it.”
“That’s all right,” Vashti said. “We just picked up our bedding on our way here. And thank you so much. I don’t suppose you have a place to wash clothes nearby?”
“Washer and dryer in the basement,” the balding man, Mister Barrelmaster, said.
“I’ll figure it out,” Derek suggested. “This is most kind of you.”
“Well, it isn’t easy getting started in a new world,” Mister Barrelmaster said. “We had some help; we’re glad to help you.”
“Let me show you everything,” Tommy said, “and you can dump your gear, wash up a bit, and come get some food,” and she led the way up the stairs to the master bedroom with the double bed that they weren’t using.
There is a behind-the-writings look at the thoughts, influences, and ideas of this chapter, along with eleven other sequential chapters of this novel, in mark Joseph "young" web log entry #519: Versers Congregate. Given a moment, this link should take you directly to the section relevant to this chapter. It may contain spoilers of upcoming chapters.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
