IRON TIDE - CHAPTER 16

Number Twelve was rushing back and forth trying to get things into position. The Matrix on Number One’s desk was going wibble-wobble again which meant that customers were on their way. The Klacken Exchange prided itself on utmost professionalism, at least that is what Number One would always say when he berated Twelve for not making sure the reception room was absolutely spotless. Twelve didn’t always understand why they were so hard on him but he figured it was to build character. They had all gone through it and they continued to lead the Exchange in delivering magical solutions for a multiverse’s worth of problems. That was the saying at least. Twelve wasn’t high enough in the standings to be able to witness what their solutions actually did but he knew he would get to see it one day. He laughed a little to himself as he thought that it was inevitable that he would get be Number One, one day. “Twelve? Twelve!? Where you!? Blast it boy quit daydreaming and get a move on. We’ve got a party of six incoming and two outgoing and they’re going to intersect if you dawdle any longer.”
Twelve normally took One’s complaints with a grain of salt but intersections of clients was something the Exchange tried desperately to avoid. The Exchange billed itself as a nonpolitical entity and gladly provided magical services to all parties involved in a conflict, assuming they were pre-existing clients, but nobody liked being reminded of that, especially when two kings fighting a bitter war suddenly find themselves in the same room as one another without any guards or other forms of protection. Especially when one of those kings had just received a very potent magical weapon that Number Four had just activated. One had hovered over Twelve’s shoulder the entire time reminding him why intersections were bad as the boy tried to scrub the blood off the furniture.
Number One rapped his cane on the desk and Twelve caught sight of the Matrix. To him it looked like just a bowl of water hovering a couple of inches above the desk but the others had assured him that after centuries of experience he would be able to read it like a book and every ripple would not just tell him when clients were arriving but also allow him to see who it was or where they were coming from, or when they were coming from for that matter. Twelve was glad he wouldn’t have to worry about the crazy time loops until he had become Number Four but until then the others had just impressed upon him that time in the Exchange worked completely different than client time. The Exchange kind of, sort of, existed everywhere and everywhen at the same time. And none of the time. The others never bothered to really sit him down and explain it to him in detail though. He was the youngest among them and they kept telling him he would understand more when he was older, but he would always silently reply “how can I learn if nobody will teach me?” There was no point in arguing it to them, however. They already knew what he was going to say and they still acted accordingly so he had to trust there was a reason for it. Number One studied the Matrix and then pointed at one of the larger arrival areas. Twelve ran over and began dusting the surfaces and fluffing the throw pillows. Presentation mattered from start to end. From the opposite end of the reception area he could hear the vaults rotating which mean the other clients were soon departing. Number One would be able to handle that, he just had to keep the new arrivals busy so they wouldn’t interfere. Not a problem, he was trained for this. He had seen Number One greet hundreds of clients, he could handle this one without supervision. In a way, he figured, he had already handled this one successfully. That thought started to hurt his brain though and he found himself once again cursing the time loop nonsense. If Number Three or Four would just sit him down and talk to him then it wouldn’t hurt his brain!
The Matrix began rippling wildly and Twelve could feel the slight rumble in the tiled floor before there was a brilliant flash of light. Six figures suddenly appeared in the chairs and couch of this receiving area. Twelve gave out a sigh when he saw they were all humans. Well five humans and what looked to be a half-elf. Humans were by far their most common client but the last two to arrive had been gnomes and they at least appreciated all the little touches about the Exchange. More often then not Humans would just barrage them with an endless series of questions like “Where am I?” or “How did I get here?” which after answering over and over again had gotten a bit stale. Twelve was beginning to understand why the others had put reception work on him and Number One. One was too old to care about anything anymore but it was hard to hold it against him. A thousand years working in the Exchange, give or take a few centuries, will take the joy out of just about anything.
“Greetings valued clients and welcome to the…” Twelve began before one of the humans cut him off. “Where are we? Sarth what did you do?”
“…well if you’d let me explain I can welcome you to the…”
“I didn’t do anything Lomas. Isyleula, where are we?”
“…you know if you would just let me speak I can explain that…”
“This must be the Exchange! Oh my I never thought I would get to see it. Membership is exceedingly rare. Did you know it doesn’t exist inside of reality but forms a kind of pocket dimension.”
“…well actually it’s not a pocket dimension, it’s more like a…”
“Wait, what is she doing here? Nobody said you could come with!”
The humans, and half-elf, all looked at a woman that had accompanied with them. Twelve noted that this woman looked older and while pretty had a network of scars across her face. She looked like a rough customer and was already brandishing a knife at the others.
“Stay back! You stole my loot!”
“Which you stole from us!” replied one of the human men. A twin judging by the look of the identical copy sitting next to him. Twelve could feel that the situation was rapidly spinning out of control and he really didn’t want to clean any more blood out of the couch.
“ENOUGH! THIS IS MY EXCHANGE AND YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME OR YOU WILL BE ASKED TO LEAVE!”
The humans, and half-elf, went silent as they finally noticed the young gnome standing impatiently off to the side. He channeled his inner most curmudgeon and glared at each one, willing them to behave. He didn’t know how intimidating he could possibly look but the threat worked and the humans, plus half-elf, quieted down. Twelve cleared his throat and began the proper introduction.
“Welcome to the Klacken Exchange. My name is Josianamus Klackencogswheel but here you can refer to me as Twelve. I will be your greeter and guide to help deliver you to the magical curators that will best suit your needs. Please tell me, from where do you hail? What kind of magical solutions are you looking for?”
The humans, and half-elf, looked at one another confused. Twelve remembered that One rarely asked, instead just sizing them up and making an educated guess based on their attire and demeanor. Twelve tried his assessment as well. He looked at them and quickly dismissed that the group were wizards seeking knowledge. Not enough long beards and pointy hats. They didn’t look like rulers or kings either based on the smell emanating off of them and their crude patchwork clothing. They also likely weren’t merchants or noblemen either so by default that left them as general adventurers and explorers.
“Would you consider yourselves adventurers and explorers seeking new lands and fighting against dastardly foes?”
The humans, and half-elf, looked at one another and shrugged, nodding at one another. One of them, a man with brown hair, seemed to be the one to speak for the group as he replied, “I suppose so. We’re trying to get to the Eisweld to deliver a message.”
“Among other things,” the young woman next to him added. Twelve smiled at them and bowed. “If you’ll just come with me then I will deliver you to your curator. Come along.”
The six hauled themselves out of the deep cushions they had been sinking into and fell into a line marching behind him. Twelve had a big grin on his face, everything was going great. Just then One hobbled past leading the two gnomish engineers the opposite way. Things with them were not going quite as well which only made Twelve happier. The more problems One had, the less time he had to admonish Twelve about every task he performed.
“You know damn well you’re not supposed to use the Exchange like this. The Union has issued several memos about it.” One roared at the two engineers walking beside him. “Well sure, Number One, but you see this was a dire emergency in that Dorothenia and I didn’t want to be tortured and brutally murdered by those biggun humies. I’m sure you understand.”
One halted in his tracks, hawking up a giant glob of phlegm and spitting it onto the marble tile floor. Twelve made a note to clean it up once he was done leading the humans, and half-elf, to their vault. It was a long hallway and the acoustics meant his group could hear the three gnomes arguing all the way down the length of the corridor.
“Oh don’t you try that with me. I’ve told the Union a thousand times we’re not a transportation network. Use the Flux Gates or the Sunless Sea or just bloody walk. We’re supposed to be neutral in all of this. Do you know what happens when people start using us as a shortcut? We get a heap of complaints taller than the both of you put together.”
The master engineer didn’t seem disturbed in the slightest. “Now now, Number One. I used the key and do you see me walking away with any magical artifacts? Any spell scrolls or enchanted rings? No. You’re supposed to serve us and all I want is to be returned to Mainspring. Just drop me outside the city and we won’t tell a soul, will we Dorothenia?” The junior engineer shook her head and the master engineer’s grin widened. “See Number One. Nobody has to know. You do this for me and we’ll both mark our service down as excellent. How about it?”
Number One didn’t immediately reply but by the time his grumbling had started up Twelve and his group were far enough away that Number One’s reply wasn’t audible anymore. They turned the corner and the humans, and half-elf, drew up short and gasped in amazement. The Exchange was beautifully decorated with marble tiles, windows and skylights bathing the whole building in natural light and huge vaulted ceilings that soared into archways twenty feet off the ground but the Vaults nearly always took newcomer’s breath away. In front of them was a giant brass vault door that was nearly floor-to-ceiling. Every inch of the gigantic brass portal was engraved in pictures detailing the magical wonders that were contained within. Wizards casting mighty fireballs at enemy armies, priests bringing down rains to cure droughts, kings using magic to command the loyalty of their subjects. Dozens and dozens of pictures and as they moved closer the pictures would change as the light caught the door differently it would cause the images to shift slightly as if they were animated. The wizard’s fireball would explode, the fields would grow crops, and the subjects would all kneel to their king. These little images repeated back and forth with every step they took and Twelve looked over his shoulder to see the humans, and half-elf, bobbing their heads in wonder to see the different images.
Twelve stopped fifty feet from the door where a lever had been set into the marble floor. Normally One would control the vaults from his desk but a backup lever had been installed during rush periods. Twelve pulled the lever back and forth in a complicated set of patterns and with the final pull he felt the lever click into place and quickly turned around to look at his group. If they thought the giant vault door was amazing, he couldn’t wait to see their jaws drop and eyes gape when one of them actually opened up.
The group panicked for a second when the floor began to rumble and Twelve could tell from their expressions they thought the door was about to open up. “Not yet…” he muttered quietly to himself as the marble around the vault door started to rotate along nearly invisible seams. His party’s eyes went wide as they saw the whole wall start to spin and the giant brass vault door sink into the ground only for a new vault door to rise up. It was like watching a sunrise and sunset happen at the same time as the wall continued to rotate clockwise bringing the vault into position and then sinking it back into the ground again. A third vault door came into view and this one locked into place. This one had different sets of images and while a client would never be able to tell, everyone working in the Exchange would be able to identify which vault door was which based on the images engraved on the door. To a client they were practically identical but after spending years here even Twelve was able to see the subtle differences.
“Welcome to the Klacken Exchange. Your curator for today will be Number Four, assisted by Number Eight.” Twelve pulled the lever again and this time the rumble that accompanied it was by the giant brass door opening up. Nearly twenty feet tall and yet past it was a room twice as tall. Giant stacks of shelves rose upwards a hundred feet, row after row of them stuffed with carefully numbered and sequences boxes of varying shapes and sizes. Standing at the entrance were two gnomes who looked similar to Twelve, although while Twelve was barely in his teens by human equivalence, Number Eight looked to be an adult gnome in his prime while Number Four was just past middle aged judging by the slight greying in his pointy beard.
Twelve couldn’t help but smile as he saw his group staring at the vault in disbelief and wonder. They turned confused looks at him and he just nodded towards the vault.
“All your questions will be answered by your curator. I’m just here to show you the way. Go on, get going.” He waved his hands and one by one the humans, and half-elf, crossed the threshold into the vault.
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