Dirt: Dirt, #1

Chapter One

The Wrong Place at the Right Time

The driver was in a hurry, though his haste had nothing to do with the imminent appointment of which he was mercifully unaware. The narrow asphalt strip snaked through the unrelieved gloom of a sodden November night. Headlight beams fell onto the black pavement and were soaked up. Jack Pepper tromped on the brake and the accelerator alternately and vigorously, crowding the limits of his skill. He muttered fiercely to himself as he concentrated on negotiating the turns. Rounding a tightening curve whose exit was hidden behind a tall hedgerow, his eyes widened suddenly in alarm and his arms straightened in a reflexive and entirely futile warding motion. Before him in the center of the road a bovine apparition of impressive proportions chewed vacuously on a cud of grass and regarded the onrushing bright-eyed monster with apparent unconcern. Presented with few options and no time at all to weigh them, Jack made his choice. He wrenched the wheel, tightening the already tight arc that the car was set upon. The back end of the car lost traction with the wet surface and skidded swiftly outward, presenting a sideways aspect to the ungulate obstacle. Suddenly realizing her danger, the cow sprang into motion and charged off into the surrounding darkness. The car rolled once, twice, and a third time. With a scream of tortured steel and a crash of shattered glass, the spinning mass ascended a grass-covered bank and became airborne at its summit. With its considerable momentum yet to be expended, the car would probably have continued to roll upon landing, had it not been for the large and intransigent object that stood in its path. The rusty combine harvester, all angles and attitude, abandoned to brood in the dark wet field, had no intention of getting out of the way.

* * *

Jack Pepper groaned and slowly opened his eyes and wished he hadn't. His first inclination was to close them again immediately. The only thing that prevented him was terror. He could hear voice-like noises but he could make no sense of them. The eyeball that filled his field of view made him want to shrink backward. Shrinking backward was not an option, however, due to his horizontal position and the unyielding nature of the ground behind him. The eyeball was actually not a ball at all. It was more of a slit, and a vertical one at that. And it was yellow. The eye backed away and became two eyes with some intimidating peripheral accessories. Jack tried even harder to shrink. He could not decide what scared him more, the narrow eyes, the pointy face, the pointy ears, or the scales.

Gobbitsandartichoke? said the apparition. Or the apparition may have sneezed, he couldn't be sure. A pair of taloned hands appeared before his face. Jack gave up the impossible task of shrinking and tried screaming instead. It came out as a strangled croak. He tried vocalizing. Bloody hell! he managed. The clawed hands waved before him in a sinuous and unnerving manner while the face behind them mumbled in a soft and incomprehensible monotone.

There, said the face, that should be better.

What?

I said, that should be better, the face said again, and it obviously is. You can sit up now. The face backed away a little further. Jack sat up.

I wouldn't try standing yet, if I were you. You'll probably fall over.

Jack ignored the advice and promptly fell over.

See?

Another face moved up beside the first.

You're pretty smart, Crum, it said. Jack tried again but stopped when he got to his knees. The world was still spinning. He looked around cautiously. With notable exceptions, things looked pretty normal if he ignored the sickening motion. There was green grass beneath him and trees all around. A pathway cut through the small clearing. Make that two pathways. They crossed very close to where he was kneeling. The notable exceptions regarded him thoughtfully, their expressions difficult to judge. They were, as far as Jack could gauge, identical. Were he to stand, a feat he was not yet ready to repeat, Jack estimated that their slit-eyed stare would bore holes in him somewhat below his chin. The creatures were narrow and pointed. They were clothed in breeches and sleeveless jackets of some dark material that had little superfluous fabric, and thus molded to their spare frames, accentuating their narrowness. They were, as far as Jack could see, devoid of fur or feathers. He had the impression of a pair of crocodiles, patiently waiting for some tasty morsel to move within striking range. One of the pair stepped forward with a fluid motion that made Jack's skin crawl.

Permit me to introduce us, he said—Jack assumed it was a he for lack of any visible clues, one way or the other—I'm Crum. My companion here is Ampit. They both grinned—an action that revealed an alarming amount of pointed teeth. And you are? They leaned forward in unison.

I'm Jack, he replied quickly, Jack Pepper. He licked dry lips. Where is this place?

Ah, yes, we thought you would be curious about that. Let me explain. I brought you here at a very opportune moment...

Hold it right there, Jack interrupted. "You brought me here? Why? No, never mind why, just please take me back. And where's my car?"

"If you'll just let me explain, Crum said, testily. Once you know why you're here you'll probably want to thank me. You had just had a rather nasty accident, you may remember, and then I brought you here by dint of a quite elegant spell."

Yes, we found this really ancient text, you see, Ampit added. Crum elbowed him in the ribs, assuming of course, that there were ribs or indeed, an elbow.

A spell? Jack managed to inject a wealth of scorn into the question without even trying. His listeners appeared not to notice.

Yes, said Crum and Ampit together.

And we can't send you back, said Ampit.

He's right, Crum added, we can't. There was a very strict requirement implicit in the spell, you understand. Without it, the spell just wouldn't work.

Absolutely no getting around it, Ampit affirmed. Crum nodded. That's right. You had to be dead, you see.

Suddenly, Jack's kneeling position seemed precarious. A long way to fall.

"I had to be—dead. It did not sound like a question at all. Jack was thinking aloud. So is this Heaven then, or Hell?" He eyed the two strange creatures and had a strong feeling that he already knew the answer. He was wrong.

Never heard of them. This is Dirt, said Crum, cheerfully. It's quite a nice place actually, we think you'll enjoy it once you get used to it."

After you've helped us out with this little problem, Ampit added. Crum dug his companion in the ribs again.

Help you out with what? Jack asked suspiciously, sensing a trap.

Well, I was just getting to that. Crum glared at Ampit. It's quite a small thing really. We just want you to tell us about magic.

Magic? What are you, nuts? Jack regretted the question as soon as it passed his lips. The pair looked distinctly annoyed.

We know you can tell us about magic, Crum rumbled. We have used some very potent spells to look into your world. There can be no doubt at all. You have magic in abundance. After what I've done for you it wouldn't hurt you to part with some if it. We've seen the magical wagons that move along with no creature pulling them. We've seen great flying—containers that carry people aloft. Many other things we've seen, most we don't understand, but they are obviously driven by magic. We want to know about these things, and we have brought you here to tell us. So don't make us get physical. He spread his hands and forced a toothy smile. "Come now, I'm a reasonable being. I don't ask for all your secrets, just for a few of them. What harm can it do?" He maintained the smile and tilted his head to one side, the epitome of sweet reason. The effect was terrifying.

But I don't know any magic, he protested. Crum's smile disappeared.

It seems we'll have to do this the hard way after all, he said. He didn't seem too disappointed. He motioned to Ampit who stepped forward, raised his arms in Jack's direction and muttered an incantation, sotto voce. Jack squealed. Not that he was hurt, it was just that he was suddenly naked. Kneeling on the grass before these two strange creatures with his vulnerability exposed, he felt a curious heaviness in his limbs. He tried to rise in preparation for flight and found that he could not. After several moments of intense effort, he discovered that he could move only his eyeballs. He continued breathing only with difficulty. Crum and Ampit approached, their motion smooth and sinuous. They examined Jack closely, prodding occasionally with sharp claws.

Well now, Crum murmured, where shall we begin? With so many choices, it's difficult to know what to do for the best.

We could incise, Ampit suggested. Crum considered briefly.

I've never favored incision, he said. I prefer crushing. Or perhaps amputation. He does seem to have an ample supply of minor parts to amputate. The direction of his stare made Jack want to cross his legs.

True, Ampit concurred, but we don't know which of them he may need for the magics. What do you imagine this part is for? It looks quite suitable for crushing, don't you think?

Hmm, Crum examined the part in question. A reproductive accessory, perhaps? Terribly poor design though, wouldn't you say?—having it stuck on like that, almost as an afterthought? Well, he probably won't be needing it. Perhaps you're right. We'll start there. Find me a pair of rocks about so big. He placed his hands a distance apart that made Jack's eyeballs roll up in his head.

Oh, look Crum, he seems to be trying to say something.

Crum waved his companion away. Just get me the rocks, will you? Ampit moved out of Jack's field of view. He was gone for quite a while. Crum paced back and forth for a time and then sat down, muttering softly to himself.

Ampit returned at last. You'd be surprised how few rocks there are around here, he said in response to Crum's critical glare. I had to walk half way to town to find these. He displayed two rocks the size of grapefruit and pounded them together with a heavy slap that struck sparks. Jack managed a terrified squeak.

All right, Crum said, rising, let's begin. Perhaps you'd better do it, Ampit. You're so much better at this sort of thing than I am.

Ampit moved into position before his helpless victim and eyed his target appraisingly; apparently he was taking aim. He raised the rocks. Jack's face had turned a delicate shade of purple and looked about to explode.

Wait just a moment, Ampit. I think perhaps we have forgotten something, Crum said, tapping a talon against a fang, thoughtfully. How will we know when he's ready to talk, if he can't talk?

Ampit considered the question and then put the rocks down within easy reach.

Silly me, he said. The first word stretching into a hiss. He raised his hands and murmured again.

Gaaaaah! Jack cried. There were several things he wanted to say, but that was all he could manage on his first attempt. In addition to his eyeballs he could now also move this tongue. Ampit reached for the rocks again. In the last few minutes, Jack had had ample opportunity to think. The rush of adrenaline had apparently given up the hopeless task of trying to move frozen muscles, and had instead hastened to the aid of an organ that still functioned, after a fashion—his brain. By the time his tongue was released from its paralysis he had queued whole sentences, ready to rattle off at the very first opportunity. Unfortunately, all he actually managed to articulate was gaaaaah. Once that was out of the way, like the cork in a champagne bottle, the rest came out with a rush.

All right, all right, I'll tell you what you want to know. We don't call it magic, we call it technology. I'll tell you all about it, just put the rocks away.

Crum and Ampit exchanged glances. Finally, Crum nodded. Ampit lowered the rocks. He raised them again, swiftly, and struck them together with a loud clap. Jack yelped.

That was just a little reminder, Ampit told him, in case you decide to change your mind.

Jack's face, previously purple, was now chalk-white. He tried to shake his head vigorously, though nothing happened. You shall have technology, he promised. All the technology I know shall be yours.

Released from the potent paralysis and with his clothes restored to him, Jack found that he could walk without danger of falling over. This was a great relief because he had decided that at the earliest opportunity he was going to take to his heels. He was going to run as far and as fast as he was able, putting as much distance between himself and his pointy-eared captors as he could. As soon as he had explained to them how certain technological things worked, and satisfied their curiosity, he would be off. Of course, he didn't expect getting away was going to be easy. Crum and Ampit looked as though they could raise a fair turn of speed if they had to. No, this was going to call for subterfuge and cunning. Not his strong suit, he had to admit, but he must needs go that the devil drives. Or, in this case, devils. His first priority would be to discover what exactly the pair wanted.

All right, he began, where do you want to start?

Ampit looked at Crum who nodded an assent.

Well, said the creature, first we want to know about the self-hauling wagons. What manner of magic drives them?

Jack assumed what he hoped would be interpreted as a thoughtful expression while he wondered how to begin his explanation.

First of all, he began, I think you're talking about a car, sometimes known as an automobile. In principle it's fairly simple. A box or compartment for carrying a driver and passengers, four wheels—two per axle, of course—a drive train, an engine to provide the power, and brakes to stop it. A battery with a means of charging it. Control electronics and vacuum control of various miscellaneous parts. Oh, and a steering assembly so the driver can point it in the required direction. Now, the internal combustion engine can take various forms, a common one being a four-cylinder design. Jack sat cross-legged on the grass as he warmed to his subject. The secret of the engine is timing. Everything that goes on inside it has to happen at the right time. If we consider the case of a four-cylinder engine, then the pistons must arrive...

Yes, yes, that's all very interesting, said Crum, his eyes beginning to glaze over, but how long will it take you to make one?

Jack's jaw dropped. He had heard about people's jaws dropping, but he had never actually seen it happen, much less had it happen to him.

Make one? he asked, incredulously. He was about to add that they must be joking, but bit the remark back just in time. He could see that joking was not at the forefront of their minds at the moment, avarice having elbowed its way forward. Jack thought furiously.

Well now, to actually make one is a serious undertaking. Technology—magic to you—cannot be arrived at in a single step. It must be accumulated gradually, layer upon layer, until all the necessary pieces are present. We will need steel presses, lathes, furnaces, rubber plantations, aluminum mines, iron foundries, electronic die fabrication, oil refineries...

Wizard talk, Ampit said to Crum, who nodded eagerly. They both eyed Jack with proprietary fondness. Jack stopped in mid-flow. Er—do we have any of those things? he asked. The other two were silent for a moment, then Crum cleared his throat.

I confess that you lost me after the part about layers. As a wizard, surely you can provide whatever is needed? I would hate to have to ask Ampit to employ those rocks. Ampit, my friend, you do still have the rocks, don't you?

Ampit held up a bulging satchel and gave it a shake. Its contents rolled together with a satisfyingly solid thunk. Jack swallowed. Well, I can see you gentlemen have an eye to the future. Getting in on the ground floor of the automobile industry is certainly something that would provide you with great wealth and power. Not to mention the oil industry. Wealth beyond your wildest dreams in oil. A very wise decision on your part, if I may say so.

Ampit preened. Crum's eyes were focused on some far horizon. Apparently, he was spending his wealth already.

Gentlemen, I propose a deal. If we are to begin the process of manufacturing cars, we will need to search for the things I mentioned. Without them you won't be able to make a single car. Two pairs of yellow eyes turned frosty stares in his direction. But neither will anyone else, he added hastily. Best, then that you get there first. Beat all the others to the draw, as it were.

What drawer? Crum asked.

Oh, you know, gunfighters standing in the street, hands poised over their g... Jack paused, sweat breaking out on his brow, I mean—er, never mind—it would take too long to explain and we don't went to waste time, do we? Time that could be used accumulating wealth and power. Shouldn't we be going? It did not take long for the thrust of that argument to go home.

You will lead the way, said Crum, so we can keep an eye on you. We wouldn't want you to get lost, now would we?

Jack thought fast. He seemed to have been doing that a lot recently, and had the feeling he had only just begun. He spread his hands, palms uppermost, and presented what he imagined was his most innocent expression. But I don't know where we're going. This is all new to me. If you'll just lead the way, I'll be able to follow without constantly asking for guidance. The gathering of your fortune will begin that much quicker.

Crum was not to be swayed. Go that way, he said, indicating a particular path. If you make any wrong turns, we will be sure to tell you. He smiled his pointy-toothed smile.

Chapter Two

The Mayor

Jack led off along the path with the two strange creatures close behind him, the pair conversing secretively in sibilant undertones. Trees crowded the path on both sides, their crowns intermingling to form a dense canopy. Looking upward, he caught glimpses of sunlight glinting in tiny gaps in the foliage. Wondering what time of day it was, he glanced at his watch. The crystal was shattered and the hands were stopped. So much for that. He thought back to the moments leading up to his accident. Then he thought about the moments after the accident. What he could not remember, no matter how hard he tried, was the dreadful event itself. It was as though he had passed from the pre-impact moment to the post-impact moment without passing through the impact moment itself, which he reflected, if one had to have an impact at all, was probably quite a good thing.

How, exactly, did you manage to bring me here? he asked over his shoulder. It was Ampit who answered. He hurried forward leaving Crum cursing and grumbling in the rear. Ampit was too enamored of his own cleverness to pay any attention to his companion.

It was a masterpiece of spellcasting! he crowed. We found this ancient text, as I mentioned before. Not by accident either. Oh, no—it was the result of brilliant deductive reasoning. That old man died before he finished telling us how to find the text, you see. Very ungrateful, that was, especially after we gave him that cup of water. He had no business being out in the desert at his age. No business at all. It was a fair trade—the secret location of the ancient text for a cup of water, especially in his circumstances. So we had to deduce the missing information...

Crum came alongside and cuffed Ampit about the head.

"He doesn't need to know all that. We don't discuss it, I told you."

Ampit subsided, muttering.

Well, now that we're partners in this venture, Jack said, surely you can tell me how I came to be here? I'll be able to perform the er... technology better if my mind is at rest about certain things.

Let's get one thing straight, Crum snarled, "we are not partners. He moved closer and prodded Jack in the chest with a sharp claw. Jack winced. Our relationship is that of master and servant, Crum continued. We command, and you obey. Forget that, and we shall see how good your memory becomes after we remove an extremity or two."

Jack blanched. Of course, of course. Just wanted you to know that I work much more efficiently if I have all the information I need to perform the er... wizard stuff. You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, you know.

Crum regarded him with a blank expression.

You do know what flies are, don't you? Jack asked.

Of course, what do you take me for—an idiot? Of course I know what flies are. He paused. What's vinegar?

* * *

After a while the trees gave way to fields. Fields and more fields, all fitted neatly together and held in place by hedgerows. In the corners of some fields low buildings lurked as though reluctant to venture out into the open spaces. No people or beasts were abroad. The scene was bathed in what looked like late evening light. Jack glanced skyward again and stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw dropped for the second time in recent memory. So suddenly, in fact, did Jack halt, that Crum and Ampit were several paces ahead by the time they realized he was not with them. Crum rushed back to berate him for trying to evade them, but stopped and followed the line of Jack's stare. Hanging in the sky where the sun should be were two suns, one large and reddish, the other small and whitish.

What's the matter? Crum queried. Jack tried to speak but no words came out. He raised his arm and pointed to the solar duo.

Yes, yes, I see Albula and Rufous, but what's wrong?

Two suns! Jack croaked.

Well, of course, two suns. How many should there be?

Jack sank slowly to the ground and stared at nothing. It's really true. I'm actually dead.

"No, no, that's not what I said at all. I said you had to be dead for the spell to work. You were dead, of course. Dead as a log. But I cast a spell and brought you here as good as new. Rather god-like, wouldn't you say?"

Jack wasn't listening. His ears had glazed over. Oh, my God! he muttered.

Yes? said Crum.

* * *

The path before them sloped gradually downward. From their present vantage atop the slope, Jack could see that the land beyond was flat for a considerable distance. Once at the bottom of the slope they would enter the outskirts of a small town, most of which he could see from here. The buildings were mostly squat and rambling and appeared to be built from brick or yellowish stone.

Dughill, said Crum. Jack looked critically at the town.

So where's the hill? he wanted to know. Crum didn't get it. "Dug hill, Jack said. Crum shook his head. It's not named after a geographic feature, he said, it's named after its founder. His name wasn't Dughill either, but something very similar. It's amazing what difference the omission of one letter makes. The committee decided, quite recently, as it happens, that the name wasn't quite suitable. So they changed it. Come on, we're going this way." Ignoring the path, he angled off into a field. Jack followed with Ampit bringing up the rear. The field was full of crop that Jack could not identify. Whatever it was, it came up to his armpits and made progress difficult, though Crum and Ampit seemed to glide through it without difficulty.

How come we didn't just follow the path? Jack grumbled. It went straight into town.

Ampit, who had been edging closer, and urging Jack to pick up the pace, spoke resentfully. It's because of the committee, he said. They call themselves the People's Committee for the Gentrification Of Dughill. They run the place. Took over from the mayor, they did. His heart wasn't in it, you see, once he developed his—other interests.

What's that got to do with us struggling through fields instead of taking the main path?

Ah, yes... well... it's like this: the committee took a dislike to us last time we visited Dughill. Can't think why. Ampit seemed genuinely puzzled. They expressed a preference in favor of our immediate departure. Of course, like the peace-loving creatures we are, we left. You need those magical supplies to cast your spells, so we must go back into town.

I don't like the sound of this, Jack said. You two have been run out of town, and now you're sneaking back in, and taking me with you? You'll get me into trouble. Well, more trouble, anyway.

Oh, don't worry. We'll be all right as long as we keep clear of the enforcers. The average citizen won't turn us in. Not if we ask him nicely and make it clear to him that keeping quiet is really in his best interests. Besides, we won't see any committee members. Not in the part of town we're going to, he giggled. Actually, he made a series of hissing noises that amounted to the same thing.

Jack briefly considered making a run for it, but decided he would be at a severe disadvantage in the crop field. He could scarcely manage to walk, so running was out of the question. They came at last to a hedgerow which, to Jack's relief, marked the end of the crop fields. The crop was taller than the hedge and Jack didn't see it until he ran into Crum, who had stopped at the boundary and was eyeing the terrain on the other side. He held up a taloned hand, cautioning Jack to silence. After a while, apparently satisfied, the creature led the way forward and eased his way through a small gap in the hedge.

He made that look easy, Jack muttered to Ampit as he fought his way through the opening.

"It was easy," Ampit returned, puzzled. Jack pulled pieces of hedgerow from his hair and clothing and spat small leaves. They had emerged onto a narrow lane, the other side of which was bounded by a tall wooden fence. Crum seemed to know exactly where he was going. He moved swiftly to a gate in the fence and, pushing it open, led them into a short and rank-smelling alleyway, the remote end of which debouched onto a packed-dirt square with a few tired-looking trees in the middle. There was nobody about. Nothing moved except for a beast that bore a strong resemblance to a bull terrier. This one looked leaner and hungrier and somewhat larger than any that Jack had seen before. When the three emerged from the alley, it made no sound, but approached them rapidly with its head lowered and its upper lip drawn back in a silent snarl. Ampit stepped forward and, baring more teeth than the dog could ever dream of, made a soft hissing noise. The dog stopped in its tracks, tucked its tail between its legs and sped away at a clip that would have turned a greyhound green with envy.

Do come along, Ampit, we don't have time for that. I swear, all you think about is food, Crum muttered acerbically. He moved quickly to a seedy-looking building that bore a sign so faded as to be indecipherable. Without bothering to knock, he pushed on the sun bleached wooden door and it swung open. A murmur of conversation emanated from within. This lasted just long enough for those inside to glance in the direction of the door and then a sudden silence fell. Crum strode through the doorway. Jack felt the prod of a sharp claw in the small of his back, impelling him forward. Ampit followed him in and closed the door. Jack glanced curiously around the single large room. Several tables stood in the center and booths lined the walls. A bar dominated an entire wall at the far side of the room. People occupied many of the seats. This made Jack very happy. Actual people. Humans, that is. No scales and no pointy teeth. None, at least, that he could see. Nobody was smiling. The occupants studied the new arrivals without looking at them. They looked everywhere else but at Crum and Ampit and, having studied the space all around the pair, had a pretty good idea of what occupied the only space they hadn't looked at. Crum took an unoccupied booth and tapped the tabletop with a claw. A bartender appeared at his elbow and quickly placed a large jug and three cups on the table. He departed as quickly as he had appeared.

These people, Crum addressed Jack as he waved a hand to encompass the room in general, are peasants. They will know nothing of the magic artifacts you need. We must wait until another appears. He usually comes in at about this time each day, and then drinks himself into a stupor by day's end. If there is one certainty in life, it's that our man will show his face in this room. He spends much of his time here.

What makes you so sure he will have what I need?

I'm not, Crum replied, rotating his cup slowly between his claws but ignoring the dark liquid within it, but he may have heard of those magical things. He's an educated man, you see. Went to a university to be schooled before returning here to become the mayor of this backwoods town. There's no accounting for taste.

He's the mayor? Jack said in surprise. Won't he bring the committee down on us? It was an outcome he rather hoped for. Ampit and Crum looked at each other and hissed. It was an action Jack would come to associate with laughter from the pair.

The mayor and the committee—talk to each other? That's a good one. The hissing stopped as quickly as it had begun. Crum shoved his cup roughly aside, spilling some of its contents in the process. It seemed to be the mention of the committee that had agitated him.

Now listen, he hissed, the mayor is just a figurehead in this town. The committee runs the place, and the mayor doesn't seem to care. Drinking in this bar seems to be his only interest. Don't let that divert you from your mission, which is to obtain the necessary artifacts and make us rich. Continued possession of your various appendages depends on your success. Remember that.

There he is. Ampit nodded in the direction of the door. A man had paused on the threshold.

Nam! the patrons cried, as one. The rotund fellow threw his arms wide and beamed at the room in general, until his glance took in Crum and Ampit. The smile faded. Looking away, he hurried to a vacant seat at the bar, where a jug of foaming liquid awaited him.

Right, said Crum, now's your chance. Get over there and ask him about the artifacts.

Who, me? I don't even know the man. Wouldn't it be best if you asked him? Jack waffled.

No. He is more likely to provide you with the information. We could ask him, of course, but we would need to speak to him alone. He won't be alone for several hours, and I would rather not wait. Now, go. We will be watching. He made the last sound like a threat or a warning. Jack assumed it was both. Swallowing, he rose to his feet and stumbled to the bar, tripping over his own feet. A seat was vacant beside the mayor. Jack sat on it. Putting on what he hoped was his best smile, he turned to the man beside him.

Is there a back way out of this place? he asked. The mayor looked at him with a cautiously neutral