Ryn of Avonside-164: Negative Inference

“We’ve matched over a dozen islands to corresponding realms that we know of, now,” Lily said with the sort of glee that only came from someone at the height of a fixation.

“It's pretty incredible how fast the xenology people have sifted through the data,” I said softly.

Lily grunted absentminded agreement as she grabbed a piece of paper, wrote something in large letters, and then with an excessive amount of flair, pinned it into the drywall of the club room with a small knife. It hit with a thump and a small cloud of dust hazed the air.

Cris squeaked and swore, “Lily, what the fuck?”

She ignored the outburst from her lanky friend and stabbed a finger at the paper. “Island one hundred and twenty nine. One two nine. Nothing. We don't have shit. Nobody knows where it is. Nobody knows what the realm even does. This is despite the fact, they were supposedly successful in making an ‘interface’.”

“Okay, so one of them is a mystery,” Amara said with a patience that she reserved specifically for Lily. “What's the point of this meeting? You want us to help figure out what 129 is?”

“Kinda.” Lily turned her hawklike attention on me. “We do know one solid thing about this realm and the scale that studied it. Right?”

I knew the answer. I'd been there when one of the xenology researchers politely showed us the message because she, ‘thought it might interest us.’ It was actually kinda nice of her to do it, even if it'd felt a little… well, it just felt weird.

This was Lily's show though, and I waited patiently for her to tell the story.

Her expression broadened into the softest, most adorable manic grin of all time. “We know that at one point, they conducted a test using magic from 129, and it went really wrong. Crazy wrong. It flipped the sexual characteristics of every single person who was involved in watching the experiment.”

Every single trans person in the room perked up. There were only trans people in the room, so that was everyone. Personally, I was interested because I wanted to help these people out. Being caught in whatever spell she was talking about would be devastating for me.

“Now, I know that since most of us have already transitioned, that might fuck things up for us,” she continued. “However, the incident in the report happened by accident. What could we do with this if it was controlled? Because, you know, personally, there's a lot of things about my transition that I would like to fix or change.”

“Me too,” Amara said, and everyone in the room except me nodded agreement.

In all honesty though, Scale 129 intrigued me fiercely. The way the realm was described as operating made me wonder about all sorts of things. However, what Avonside really needed was the ancillary data on more laboratory computers. There was a threat out there so massive that it might have caused the Umare to build the Ring, the labs, and the mechanism for ‘saving’ other species. None of those things were small undertakings.

It was clear that they thought they were doing us a favour by stealing us away from our homes, too. It was real scary hearing them talk about other sapient species the way humanity on Earth spoke about critically endangered species.

Oh, and in case anyone had forgotten, once they'd done all they could, the Umare killed themselves rather than face the threat that was bearing down on them. If I had the capacity to comprehend the magnitude of it all, I'd be having nightmares.

So yeah, all of that culminated in a certainty that we needed more data. Data that we might get from another laboratory — another ‘Scale.’

The only way to get that data was to find and raid another laboratory… and everyone else who could do that was busy with more immediate problems.

“I think I'm going to make a trip to find Scale 129,” I said, even as the idea formed in my mind.

The trans club was quiet as I made my declaration. It wasn't an awkward, heavy silence though. It hung in the air like a dandelion — gently bobbing along until it came to rest gently on the ground, ready to be nurtured into maturity.

“We… don't even know where it is,” Lily said hesitantly.

I shook my head. “No, but we have some leads. Even though it has a much higher number than the plains lab, we still know they shared a neighbour — scale 128. 128 is the place we think is where the Curled Loom was studied. The Curled Loom mages hang out in the centre of the Ghraiga Empire. So, I bet you that scale 128 is somewhere in the imperial heartland.”

“Why wouldn't they be closer together?” Cris asked, confused. “That's like, miles and miles and miles of land. That doesn't really seem like ‘neighbours’ to me.”

I gave him a wry glance. “It is if you're on a world this big.”

Lily pulled her knife gingerly from the wall and sat heavily on a worn sofa. “You’re not wrong on that point… but having a world this big means the search area is massive. Even assuming your theory is right, that's still an area hundreds of miles across. I want to find it, obviously — I brought up the idea — but like, we haven't found any maps.”

I sighed as the reality of the task began to weigh me down. “It was implied that the plains lab had an above-ground support facility at some point. I'd guess the maps were up there, where the vehicles would've been.”

There was a good chance that we'd never find scale 129, I was beginning to realise. There were next to no clues about the positions of the other labs, because all the Umare who worked at them already knew or just had gps or whatever. Like, it was the same as how nobody in our day and age would give precise directional instructions in conversation when map apps existed.

Everyone in the room was quiet as we considered the conundrum. A sudden hammering at the door to the clubhouse made us all jump, startled. Even from down the hallway, it sounded loud.

Lily was already looking at me with wide eyes, and Cris quickly joined in. Amara headed for the door, hand going to a knife at her hip that was much larger than Lily's.

“I'll be right back,” I said, and space folded inwards as I retreated to my grove.

At a dead sprint, I bolted for my little cottage, and burst through the door. My armour, where was it?

I found my order-issued robes in my tiny closet, but the outer leather and plate parts were nowhere to be found. A few moments later, I was halfway through putting it on when a tangled mess of noodly fur and armour rolled through my open bedroom door.

Working together, my ferrets had ‘acquired’ my armour and were now dragging it towards me with their teeth. I opened my mouth to thank them, when I stopped and my eyebrows flew up. The little cretins had a gun.

They weren't like, holding it or using it — it was too big — but in its holster was a magitech revolver, along with a bandolier full of cartridges. I didn't have one of those anywhere in my grove, as far as I knew, which meant that the little shits had escaped my grove to steal it from Ryn's!

I didn't have the heart to tell them off. They were too cute, and they were helping, after all. I would obviously have questions later, though. novelbuddy.cσ๓

With a little more of their help, I was quickly wearing my armour. The thick fabric of the robes felt strange to move in, with how stiff and unmoving it was. The leather wrapped steel plates that covered external or vital areas were actually more ergonomic, weirdly enough.

I felt completely out of my depth in this stuff, but my knee-jerk reaction had been to run for it, so I guess it was time to commit. Closing my eyes, I turned my mind to the subtle feeling of magic all around me. Odd pressure on my skin, heat on my eyelids, and the wisps of a wind that wasn't there were the ways my mind attempted to interpret the magical information it was receiving.

With an act of will that should have moved limbs, but didn't, I pried the world apart and stepped through the hole.

When I manifested in the clubhouse again, it was to the sound of shouting and a furious knocking that had more in common with a battering ram hitting a gate.

Cris was still hovering in the doorway to the trans hangout room, looking down the hallway anxiously. When he saw me, his eyes widened. “Cat! One of the faculty council and some militia are here. They seem… angry.”

Scowling, I nodded and pushed gently past him, heading for the front door to the clubhouse. Ayyan, the huge Algerian gay man who'd appointed himself bouncer and protector to the club, had his shoulder braced against the door. Seeing me coming, he relaxed slightly and wordlessly gestured to the door, asking if I wanted it open.

Amara's face appeared from around the coatroom nook, and she mirrored Cris’ expression of apprehension from earlier.

To Ayyan, I nodded. To Amara, I shooed her back into the nook with a wave. Shit, but my heart was hammering. What was I doing, gearing up for a confrontation like this. I wasn't Ryn. This wasn't my purview! No time to second guess. Ayyan was opening the door. Commit, or you'll fuck it up even harder than you think you will!

Light flooded into the hallway, revealing a tall, muscled man with a hard jawline and bright rosy orange hair. He wore a sharp suit that looked like it had been recently retailored. It was Dr. Richards.

Behind him were six militia members that I'd never seen before. As far as I could tell, they were from a different contingent than the ones I usually interacted with.

“Catherine,” Dr. Richards growled. “I knew you were here. What did you do to me?”