Ice Phoenix

The light from the myorite crystals that formed the airy and graceful chandelier fell across the elegant table that dominated the room. The table had been carved from hertian rock, a mineral similar to green marble and found only on the planet of Gratch. With its doughnut-like shape, it could accommodate up to thirty people.

The room was spacious, with bare white walls and a high ceiling. The absence of windows served as a deterrent to possible prying eyes, and no one other than the people who sat in the room knew of its existence. There was only one exit, defined by a pair of large, heavy doors marked with the emblem of the Imeldors; a circular meeting of two heads containing a dot in the centre.

Someone coughed, causing everyone else to lean back as far as they could, weaving anti-germ barriers around themselves. While some were discreet about it, others weren’t. There were nine of them in the room, and more were expected.

“You don’t have to be so paranoid,” said the one who coughed, looking hurt. “It was just an itch, not some superbug.” Raimus Jigahart hailed from the planet Merong. He was a tubby man, with a gut that spilled onto his thighs. He had squinty eyes and wore a moustache that was neatly parted and reached his long lobed ears — a characteristic of his race.

He was also one of the more senior Imeldors in the room, and despite his rather gelatinous appearance, he had rightly deserved the distinction of Imeldor. Rumour had it that he had single-handedly hunted down the guild assassins who had been plaguing the board members of the UWIB Corporate Banking Sector — a feat by no means insignificant, as guild assassins were some of the most powerful and craftiest weavers to exist outside of Imeldors and L-Masters.

“An itch would not have you coughing all night, Raimus!”

All heads turned to the blond woman who had spoken. Lady Fless was a striking woman in her prime, with pale green eyes and slightly feline features. She was tall and lithe, owing to the heritage passed down from two different bloodlines. Lady Fless was half Magarkan, like Headmistress Marl, and half Cubeyon.

She was also one of the top Kampu fighters in existence. Other than Headmistress Marl, not one person in that room had a chance of besting her in martial combat. She wore a short leather vest over a red bodysuit, and a pair of deadly-looking combat boots. Each boot looked to weigh a tonne.

“How long have you had that itch?” Even though her voice was light and she had a hint of a smile, there was no warmth in her glittering pale eyes.

“A week, more or less,” Raimus replied cautiously.

“With all the recent deaths, I’m somewhat surprised you haven’t had it looked at,” said Talinuk Ferro.

“What do you mean?” Raimus looked mildly annoyed.

“Jazgunda Qobambe was murdered two nights ago. Someone poisoned his roasted beetles, or didn’t you know?”

Raimus scowled at Talinuk Ferro. Talinuk was Pophusian and Raimus thought he was too smug and arrogant for his own good.

“It’s just an itchy throat,” Raimus said in an icy tone. Truth be told, he had already seen a doctor and, unfortunately, he had contracted the Donkinongan jelly throat infection, which was a rather embarrassing condition caused by coming into contact with contaminated saliva. Furthermore, he had no intention of letting the others find out.

He glanced at the people in the room, his reaction to seeing them ranging between ‘nice-to-see-you-again’, ‘couldn’t-care-less’ and ‘you-need-a-hammer-to-brighten-up-your-face’. They were, in no particular order:

1. Quempa Pillidux - Planet Donkinong

2. Lady Heluyon Skiss - Planet Water Loll

3. Degra Marl - Planet Magarka

4. Theodore Drummik - Gumpina

5. Kiaten Titik - Planet Varusia

6. Tirath Wayne - Planet Flixa

7. Lady Kisan Fless - Cubeyon

Raimus frowned. “Where are the others?”

“Grandmaster Deitrux and Kuldor are with Baneyon right now,” answered Lady Fless. “They’re quizzing him on his attack since he’s the only one who’s survived the recent spate of assassinations.”

“Did he get a look at his attacker?” Raimus asked quickly.

Lady Fless shook her head. “We’ll know more once they come out.”

“That was eight days ago, wasn’t it?”

The others nodded.

“What about the queen?” Talinuk Ferro asked. “Why isn’t she here yet?”

“Perhaps she didn’t get the message,” Master Drummik said dryly.

“For something as important as this, she had better show up!”

No one responded to that. Talinuk Ferro hadn’t been an Imeldor long enough to know how the queen worked. For once, Raimus gladly bit his tongue and hoped fervently that Talinuk would speak in the same manner to her when she arrived. He would happily pay for a ringside seat just to witness the queen’s reaction.

His happiness was short lived, however, when Headmistress Marl spoke. “The queen has never been late for a meeting, Talinuk. If something is keeping her, then it is for no trivial reason. You’d do well to hide your impatience from her.”

Just then, the doors opened and Baneyon walked in, flanked by two Imeldors. A long white cloak draped his shoulders, and his silver hair was pulled back into a single braid. He had the usual mischievous glint in his eyes, and everyone knew he was all right. On his right loomed the tall and powerful Kuldor Brim, covered from head to toe in white fur. Only his face remained bare, revealing his big brown eyes, which twinkled kindly in the soft light.

The other person was none other than their leader and head of the Imeldors, Grandmaster Deitrux. Dignified and wise, he had an imposing presence that immediately pressed the room into silence. His large, slightly protruding eyes scrutinised everyone, causing a few Imeldors to squirm. Long white hair was neatly braided and double-folded behind his head, held fast by a dark strip of cloth. He had a dark complexion, a little nose, and a wide mouth. He barely reached Baneyon’s knees.

Like Baneyon, both Kuldor and Grandmaster Deitrux wore white cloaks. As soon as they made their way to their seats, the grandmaster placed his hands on the table and spoke.

“We can rest assured that our young one, Imeldor Baneyon, possesses his own mind and there is no other person lurking in there. Furthermore, from Baneyon’s accounts we have determined just how powerful our foe is and what can be done to fend off their attacks. Let’s be thankful that our young one has returned without so much as a bruise, unlike our unfortunate peers.”

There was a unified murmur as everyone quietly acknowledged Baneyon’s safe return.

“Did you get a look at the attacker’s face?” Master Drummik asked.

Baneyon shook his head. “No, I didn’t have time. I could only tell he or she was bipedal.”

“However, Baneyon has discovered something even more important,” interrupted Kuldor. “Our nasty friend comes from a planet that we do not recognise.”

“When you say a planet we do not recognise, do you mean one that is hardly frequented by us?” asked Lady Fless.

Kuldor shook his head. “I mean, it is a planet that has not been mapped as part of the Thirteen Sectors.”

Stunned silence. Master Drummik had to lean back in order to digest this piece of news; Raimus did just the opposite.

“An oversight, perhaps?” added Quempa Pillidux, speaking for the first time. He was a much younger version of the grandmaster, a native of Donkinong, and also a close friend of Baneyon.

“I believe the queen will be able to enlighten us,” said the grandmaster.

“She’s not here!” Talinuk Ferro failed to hide his anger.

“Patience, young Ferro,” said the grandmaster. “Even as we speak she is entering the premises with Master Morix and Lady Anrath.”

If the others were surprised, they did not reveal it. They had all been extending their senses to listen for the queen’s arrival, and while some may have detected a change in the air, others did not.

“You should all know, Baneyon was not the first person to survive the assassination attempt,” continued the grandmaster. “The first attempt was made on the queen’s life several months ago. You were all informed that she was travelling. I’m sure most of you pondered the reason for her movements.”

“Someone was actually stupid enough to attack the queen?” blurted Tirath Wayne. He was one of the younger Imeldors and less sensitive to keeping up appearances. His two antennae twitched above his head, and his already large eyes bulged to the point of popping out. He had asked the question that everyone was thinking, but had been too embarrassed to say out loud.

“No, someone had been confident enough to attack her. However, the person was not careless. The assassin had poisoned her tea before attempting to confront her,” answered the grandmaster.

“We’ve been watched for a very long time. Fortunately, the queen was able to expel the poison from her system and send the assassin running for cover. It seemed that not even the assassin was willing to confront her directly. He or she had attempted a mindslip over the queen’s weakened state.”

“I can’t believe the assassin attempted to poison and mindslip into her,” said Baneyon. “How stupid is that?”

“Well, would you want to be the unlucky person who has to slip into her mind?” added Master Drummik with a wry smile.

“Ah, good point,” replied Baneyon. “I almost feel sorry for the assassin.”

Lady Fless glared at the bantering men. “You did hear the grandmaster say the queen was approaching?”

“It’s okay, Lady Fless.” Baneyon grinned. “She can’t hear us yet. Perhaps this fellow might be able to provide us with some insight to her complex brain.”

“Yes, like how not to ask her out on a date,” sniggered Master Drummik.

Lady Fless looked towards Quempa Pillidux, who had been quiet. “Perhaps you should warn your friends to bite their tongues before they become glued to their teeth.”

Quempa smiled and shook his head. “I don’t argue with idiots, Lady Fless. Too often have I been brought down to their level and then been beaten by their experience.”

Raimus roared out with laughter while Baneyon flashed his friend a hurt look.

The grandmaster spoke again, bringing the room to silence. “Once the queen arrives, we shall begin our meeting. The topic of discussion, as you may all know, is the recent death of Imeldor Felix Jingo.”

The great doors opened and all eyes looked up as two people walked into the room. Master Ralph Morix led, followed by Lady Anrath. Both looked worse for wear despite holding themselves with grace and dignity. They took their places at the table while everyone remained quiet. Then the queen appeared.

She was commanding. Her startling blue eyes swept past the others as she made her way to her seat, which was beside the grandmaster. Her attire was entirely black, and she, too, wore a cloak over her shoulders. Her dark boots rapped quietly on the floor, and when she sat, a few tendrils of dark hair escaped its bun to brush across her porcelain face.

“Forgive our tardiness,” she said. “We were being cautious in our approach.” Her voice was rich and velvety.

Grandmaster Deitrux nodded. “We shall begin then. As most of you are aware, Imeldor Felix Jingo was murdered nine days ago. His body was discovered by a close friend in an alley close to the pub he frequents. His rigor mortis state was unusual to say the least ... his knees were bent into a common bipedal sitting position such as we are doing now. The coroner concluded that he died of multiple burns to his body. Official reports will declare the same when it becomes public knowledge.”

No one said anything. They knew there was more to come.

“I, on the other hand, conducted my own examination on his body and, with Kuldor’s assistance, have concluded otherwise. Our poor Master Jingo was ambushed in that alley and he never escaped it. But, unfortunately for him, he had thought otherwise — a mistake that cost him his life.”

Baneyon interrupted him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand how he could have thought that he had escaped that alley. Master Jingo was a master of his own art. It would have been impossible to fool him with scene weaving. He would have known what was real and what wasn’t.”

“Unless, of course, he had been drugged,” added the queen.

“And that was the strange thing, you see,” said the grandmaster. “Kuldor and I found no traces of drug substances, herbal or chemical, that might possibly have harmed him. But new, revolutionary technology developed by Kuldor’s world allowed us to discover something very interesting indeed. I’ll let Kuldor explain it to you, for technology and I do not get on.”

Everyone’s attention turned to Kuldor. He cleared his throat and spoke.

“My world has invented something called an electro-pulse detector. We know that any living body generates minute amounts of electricity, and even after you die, there are still traces of it left. Picking up on this, the electro-pulse detector can generate the last few hours of the body’s electricity patterns which we can then use to calculate the person’s heart rate. In that way, we were able to study Master Jingo’s heart readings during the last hours of his life.”

No one questioned him. The people of Gratch had some of the best engineers and designers in the world, and their technology came at a very steep price to outsiders. The grandmaster resumed speaking.

“For better visualisation, I have recreated the scene of the murder and, for even more clarity, Kuldor will play a recording of the late Master Jingo’s calculated heart rate at the time.”

He waved his hand and the image of a pub surrounded by a cobblestone path leading into a dark alley appeared over the table.

“You won’t see Master Jingo until he leaves the pub,” said Grandmaster Deitrux.

The sound of a beating heart pervaded the room. It was loud enough to hear but not such that the Imeldors were distracted.

“Initial pulse readings show a steady, relaxed rate, which indicates that Master Jingo was at this time, having a drink or two at the pub. This has already been confirmed by his friend and pub owner. Then, when he leaves the pub, his heart rate is not much different, so we can safely assume that nothing too important had bothered him yet.”

The Imeldors watched the image of Master Jingo leaving the pub and walking towards the alley.

“Less than a minute later, the readings register a diminution in his pulse — as if he paused to contemplate something. However, there is nothing too erratic in this. He continues walking, and this is where it gets interesting.

“Master Jingo’s pulse has erratically jumped. By then, we can assume he had progressed down the alley, which, by the way, is quite a distance. I am certain that he had already suspected he was in danger. However, Master Jingo does not pause to look around. Instead, he walks faster.”

The Imeldors watched Master Jingo walk quickly down the dark alley.

“Something is clearly upsetting Master Jingo because his heart rate has increased but he dares not stop to look around. Now, this is where it gets really interesting. At this point here —” Grandmaster Deitrux pointed to a dirty window in the alley where light shone through and touched the wall opposite. “His heart readings have spiked. We can conclude that at this point Master Jingo identified his attacker. We are certain that he was already aware of someone following him, and it is here, under this light, he saw something that caused his heart to beat erratically. Also, note that he has not stopped walking even after seeing or hearing his stalker. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

Grandmaster Deitrux froze the image.

“Under normal circumstances, had I spotted the stalker, I would have paused, if only for a moment. Master Jingo has seen his stalker. But where is this stalker? If he’s still walking, then there are only a few possible places he could have been.”

Baneyon spoke. “Looking behind would have slowed him down a bit, so I assume you ruled that out.”

Grandmaster Deitrux nodded.

“Then that would leave the way ahead of him, the sky, and the roof,” Baneyon concluded.

“Don’t forget the ground,” added Master Drummik.

“Let’s cover all possible positions then,” said the grandmaster. “Baneyon will cover the sky, Drummik will take the ground, Lady Fless will watch the way ahead, Degra will scan the roof, and I’ll look at the sides.”

He unfroze the image and Master Felix Jingo started walking again.

“It is natural to assume that someone like Master Jingo would already be devising some means of escape. Now, his heartbeat has slowed down a fraction. He is concentrating, his mind temporarily relieved of the danger he faces. He is doing what he does best, and thus he has calmed down a little bit. What’s the best way to throw an attacker of your scent? You make sure that he is following you. Meet Master Jingo, the second!”

They watched as Master Jingo split into two versions. One kept walking as if nothing had changed, while the real Master Jingo blended into the alley walls.

“How can we be certain that Master Jingo created a clone of himself?” asked Talinuk Ferro.

“Ah, we will come to that in a bit,” replied the grandmaster. “Now, his heartbeat is really quick at this point. He has made the first move — the clone runs. If we follow the theory that Felix created another version of himself, then he wasn’t running towards the stalker. He was running away. We can now rule out that his stalker was ahead of him or came from the ground. That still leaves us with the roof, the sky, and the sides. Next, he engages in battle. He has decided to face his attacker, but minutes later he is running again. What could possibly make a powerful Imeldor like Master Jingo run once he has faced his enemy?”

“Perhaps he thought he stood a better chance once he was out of the alley? After all, he’s nearly at the end and, if it was me, I’d do the same,” said Talinuk Ferro.

“Or he encountered something that he had never faced before,” added Lady Fless.

“You are both correct. We will follow on with that logic,” said Grandmaster Deitrux. “He runs out of the alley,” the heartbeats filled the room with their thunderous sound, “into this lit park with benches all around.”

The heartbeats drummed out a battle rhythm that should have gradually slowed down once they adjusted to the adrenaline rush, but they did not. “He continues to fight off the enemy, possibly enemies by now, and he is flailing. He is, in fact, dying.”

The entire room was gripped by tense silence as they imagined the terror of Master Felix Jingo trapped in his clone.

“Master Jingo holds on for as long as he can. When he is unable to withstand any more, his clone dies and he has to struggle to bring himself back. As we all know, when we are in the minds of our creations, we become one, and therefore we die if we don’t pull ourselves out in time. Master Jingo has done something nearly impossible. He has taken himself to the brink of death and returned. He waits an hour and his heart readings return to normal — by the way, we’ve skipped this bit because we cannot wait an hour — and then he slowly makes his way back to his apartment. When he finally reaches it, his home, his safe-house, something happens. He’s attacked and then it’s all over.”

There was nothing but a grim, horrified silence in the room as everyone listened to the reconstruction of Master Jingo’s last heartbeats before death consumed him.

“But didn’t you say that his body was found in the alley with multiple burns?” Master Drummik looked confused.

“Yes, and I also said that Master Jingo never left that alley. So why did I show him walking to his riverside apartment? Because he thought he was! If we calculate the time his pulse regained its steady beat, the time it took for him to walk there judging by his cardiovascular activity, and if we actually measure that distance from the alley to his apartment, then Master Jingo truly believed he was heading there. But watch as I rebuild this scenery, as I create a perfect illusion so convincing that Master Jingo does not realise anything. Every time he makes a turn, the illusion adjusts itself.”

The Imeldors watched in disbelief as the grandmaster recreated the path to Felix Jingo’s apartment.

“Imeldors, we are dealing with a master weaver. Someone who is able to create the perfect illusion and trap our minds and, therefore, an illusionary death leads to a very real one. Their skill and cunning is beyond our normal comprehension unless we are forced to sit back and think hard.”

“Wait a moment! Surely Master Jingo would have realised at some point that he was walking through an illusion? He walks that way every day — he must have noticed flaws,” said Headmistress Marl.

“Not if he corrected them himself,” answered the grandmaster.

No one at the table apart from the queen and Kuldor understood what he meant. The grandmaster elaborated.

“Recall, when he left the pub, he paused for some moments. Now, Kuldor did some further investigation and learned of one particular beggar who had been screaming about a footpath coming to life. He apparently had suffered a nightmare which would have haunted him for several days had not Kuldor removed it from his mind. Our deceased Master Jingo had actually paused to implant a nasty vision in the beggar’s mind. That sounds like a joke he would play on someone, don’t you think?”

There were murmurs of agreement around the table.

The grandmaster continued.

“That was when he became vulnerable. When he had no idea he was being watched, he exposed himself to a mindslip when he entered the dreams of the sleeping beggar. Even when he thought he had returned to his body, he hadn’t. The assassin had already slipped into his mind, fooling Master Jingo into believing everything was normal. He never saw the flaws because he was convinced everything was real, and therefore he corrected every flaw himself.”

No one spoke as each person contemplated the manner in which Felix Jingo had been ensnared.

“What illusion could the attacker have conjured that led to Felix fleeing?” asked Talinuk Ferro. “Even though he was trapped in his own mind, Felix could still have fought his own battle against the attacker.”

“I am glad you asked that, Master Ferro,” answered the grandmaster. “I have asked myself the same question. If Felix could have defeated the foes in his mind, he would have stood a chance of breaking the mindslip. Do you recall, Talinuk, that earlier you thought that Felix fled the alley because he might have stood a better chance in an open area, and Lady Fless pointed out that he may have encountered something he’d never seen before?”

Talinuk Ferro nodded.

“Well, based on the adrenaline analysis after we autopsied him, combined with Master Kuldor’s electro-pulse detector, Felix had high spikes at these three locations.” Grandmaster Deitrux pointed to the light shining from the window in the alley, the lit park area, and Felix’s apartment.

“They all have light in common,” Baneyon pointed out.

The grandmaster nodded. “That is what I thought too. It is only speculation at this point, but whatever killed Felix was related to light. Unless we learn more, we will never know for certain. I was rather hoping that Her Highness could help us with this.”

All eyes turned to the queen, who had been sitting quietly and regally in her chair. She tilted her head slightly when she spoke.

“I can, Grandmaster Deitrux, but you may not believe what I am going to say. The demons have returned.”