The Labors Of Jasper, Episode 01 free porn video

20Jas0001, The Labors of Jasper Episode 01; 5367 words Except for the car, everything Jas owned fit inside a closet. Kind of sad, really. Two and a half meters by two and a half meters by one dot two-five. Bed. Standing closet. Desk. Lamp. A sling chair and an Easy- Boy. Refrigerator, aircon, micro, maker, three empty bins for maker stock. His SCA armor and weapons hung on a rack he'd hand-built for them. His pasocon was in the car, along with other items Jas thought he might need while homeless. Jas reviewed the contract for storage. Ninety days. Ninety days to get a job, get another flat, and pull his life out of storage. He handed the clipboard to the man behind the counter. Tarhee, from his name tag. Tarhee reviewed the electronic form. "Jas," he said, pronouncing it 'yaws.' "Short for James?" Jas shook his head. "Only bill collectors call me James. Jas, short for Jasper, except my father was Jasper, and...." Jas stopped, seeing profound disinterest on the man's face. "It's Jas on my state ID." Tarhee looked at the ID. "Right." He sucked air between his teeth. "Hundred bucks," Tarhee pointed to his palm, nodding when Jas dropped a centurion there. "You look like a bright lad," the man said. Gap-tooth smile. Prison tattoos. Jas almost missed the next bit about late payments. "An' thirty days after that," Tarhee said, "we assume the property is abandoned. We auction it. Gone-gone. Bye-bye. Hasta la life is a bitch." "Right. Half that lot came from those auctions. I don't intend to abandon my property, Mr. Tarhee. I'll be honest, though. Looking for a job. You guys hiring?" "Nah." "Know anyone who is?" "I wouldn't be here, ya?" "Right." Jas dropped onto the driver's seat of his car. He looked over to Melissa. "Thanks for helping." "You can buy lunch." "I spent my last cent on storage." "That's what credit cards are for." She smiled brightly. "Remind me again why we broke up?" "Because you're a broke-ass bitch and too panty-waisted to file for bankruptcy." Jas laughed. "Alright," Melissa said. "Now what." The Malay spoke. "Destination, eleven dot three minutes." It showed Jas a map-line to his old apartment. "No, Beast." Jas said, "I don't live there anymore." Melissa pulled a beer from the cooler on the back seat. " "Missy!" Jas said, taking the beer from her. He put it back in the cooler. "There's laws against that?" "Put the beast in autodrive. Live a little." She pulled another beer out and popped the mylar tab. "Want some?" She offered Jas a hit from his own beer. "Beast, autodrive." Jas took a slug and handed the beer back to Melissa. "Autodrive," the car said. "Destination?" It was Morgana's idea to go fishing. Morgana, the only one among them with a high-dollar job. "Free protein," she said. "I'll be by late afternoon. You know. Assuming I don't get a call." When the company called, Morgana answered. Game, or no. She was often gone for days at a time - on one occasion, weeks. Mysterious bruises after one three-month absence. And a haircut that looked like it was done with a machete. All she would say about her job? Security. Somewhere. Morgana handed Jas her gas card. "That tabs my account," she said. "Don't abuse it but don't be stupid. This trip is on me. I have a cabin by the lake." She bit her lip. "Well, it's more my uncle's cabin. He doesn't like people but he won't mind if you drop by. Just don't break into the house, okay? Or the boat house. I have keys. If I'm not there by four," she said, "you should head back. Use the card to rent a motel in town or something. Wolves." "Wolves?" Melissa asked. "Bears, too. You'll be okay in the daytime. Fill your duffel with fish. We'll have a barbecue. Oh, don't do anything there you don't want recorded. It's ... my uncle's a privacy nut. He records everything." They left Fairview well before dawn. Morgana insisted. Steve's girlfriend sat in the passenger seat of Jas's car. Melissa sat in the back, sandwiched between the beer cooler and a sack full of Jas's winter clothes. Steve rode on his bike. They bought fishing licenses in April City, and found the private road just as they lost overhead feed. It was a maze of roads in the forest there. Logging roads, farm roads, driveways to this ranch or that estate. Jas was happy he'd loaded the route on his Malay. Thirteen kilometers of muddy rutted road that was 'improved road' on the map but often only one lane. Where it was wider than one lane, it was overgrown with weeds and small trees. A couple of plank bridges and three stony fords. Steve helped push Jas's beast across one stream. "It ever rains, we'll never make it back," he said. They drove through a foggy old cemetery. A big one. Not as big as Arlington, where Jas's father was buried, but bigger than the ones in Fairview. Rewilded, by neglect or by design. The forest had reclaimed it. Tombstones heeled over like drunken ghosts. Kudzu covered what the trees didn't shade out. "Double creepers," Melissa said. "Are you sure this is the route?" "We're here," Jas announced. They passed through yet another set of gates and into open forest. Crushed coral driveway. A one-room cabin. It looked kind of like a large log cabin, one of those kit homes, but ... organic. A boathouse made of the same stuff. Padlocks on the door to each building. And a dock. There was an outdoor kitchen, just as Morgana had described. An outdoor toilet with two seats, a bucket of lye, and septic- safe baby wipes. Steve looked in a window on the boat house. He knocked on the wall. "Is this hauswood?" He examined the door. "I think it is. Hey, guys. This place wasn't built; it was grown. Completely organic." He looked around, wide-eyed. "Morgana's uncle is rich." Sheena said, "Steve, don't look in the windows. It's rude." Steve grunted. "I don't think the uncle is here." "Yeah, but he records everything? Don't make him call the police." Sheena looked around. She called out. "Morgana's uncle? Morgana's company? Morgana said to meet her here. And to go fishing and that we could use the barbecue. I hope that's okay." She lifted a rod and reel and a tackle box. "That's a big-ass cat," Jas said, stopping. The cat sat between the girls, at the end of the dock. It was bigger than some dogs. Black as diamond dust. A long-haired breed. Melissa fed the cat a strip of maker bacon. "He's someone's pet. He has a collar." She rubbed the cat's face. The cat purred. Jas could hear it five meters away. It sounded like a motor boat. Or a garbage disposal. Jas put the cooler behind Sheena. "That isn't real bacon, Missy. Probably not good for a cat." "He likes it." She fed the cat another bit of bacon. "Wonder if he likes beer." "Do not feed beer to a cat." "He needs the calories. This cat is all fur." "Missy?" She opened the cooler. "Maybe some bologna?" "Try the cheese," Jas said. "I think that's real dairy cheese. The bologna was maker stock a week ago." Melissa made a face. "Why bother making fake bologna?" "It was cheap." They caught one trout, but also caught a whole cooler of panfish. Jas cleaned fish while Melissa cooked. Steve and Sheena sat at the end of the dock, fishing and drinking pop. The cat lost interest after inspecting the fire at the outdoor barbecue. It slunk off into the woods. They ate trout with Shaker rice, real onions and spices, and dehydrated veggies that might have been real but also might have once been cellulosic maker stock. "Four o'clock," Sheena announced. "Time to head in. Morgana's a no-show. Again." Jas's beast would not start. The navigator wouldn't even turn on. Jas popped the hood. Steve pronounced it dead. "You need a new fuel cell, dude. This one has a hole in it." Melissa said, "Do you think Morgana would mind if we put it on her card?" "No," Jas said. "Gas and beer is one thing, but car parts?" He shook his head. "You have AA?" Sheena asked. "Three years sober," Jas said. "Just got my coin." "Triple A, you twat," Melissa hit Jas on the shoulder. "I knew that," Jas said. "Don't have a triple-A coin." He sighed, looking around. "Cost of the tow will be more than the car is worth." Steve suggested pushing it into the kudzu. Jas said, "Maybe I can sell my dad's shard." "Dude, no," Steve said. Sheena and Melissa also shouted down that idea. Sheena said, "I'll spot you a fuel cell. Can't be that expensive." "I have some money," Melissa said. Steve coughed up pocket change, also. They pooled their money. Five centurions and a few dollars. "Might be enough," Melissa said. She had long experience with the Beast and its repairs. "Maybe there's a junkyard?" Jas suggested. Steve said, "Dude. Do you want to make it back to Fairview?" Jas felt in his pocket. He pulled out a three-year coin from AA. It was an old coin, worn and scuffed from years of handling. "Hi, Mom," Melissa said. She kissed the coin and put it back into Jas's pocket. Jas sighed. Melissa pulled her bag from the car. "Now what?" Jas shrugged. "We walk. Two hours of daylight. Thirteen kilometers. Maybe we can catch a ride on a farm truck." "I'm not walking," Melissa said. "Thirteen clicks? On that road? No. Assuming I don't get snakebit, I'll be nose-to-toes in deer ticks." Jas glanced at the car. "We can spend the night in the beast. Steve can pick us up in the morning." "Nuh-uh," Melissa said. "The last time we did that, I ended up pregnant." Jas nodded. Losing that baby. One of the reasons they'd broken up. He nodded at the bike. "You girls can ride in with Steve." Steve spat on the coral driveway. "Only have two foot pegs, dude." "Pretend you're in Costa Rica. Be careful with her, buddy. That's my ex- girlfriend." Steve grunted. "Keep the fish, poe. Something to feed the bears, beside your skinny arse." "Think I'm walking." "Really?" Steve tapped his specs. "Can you find your way without electronics?" Jas considered that. "I'll just follow your muddy-ass tracks." "Bad plan, dude." Jas reminded them. "Morgana said not to spend the night." "Morgana's not here with a broke-ass Malay." "If you see our DM, guilt-trip her. Tell her I need a tow." "I'm coming back," Steve said. "Tonight." "Then it will be two of us out here with the wolves. I'll be fine, Steve. I'll stay in the car." He lifted Sheena's tackle box. "Don't even have to go outside to pee." "Hey," Sheena warned. "Kidding." Jas grinned. He watched Steve drive off with both girls nut-to-butt behind him. Jas looked around. He examined his hiking boots, patched with Shoo Goo. He looked at the soles. He'd worn holes in them again. His socks were wet. He grunted. "Not today." He fried up panfish instead. "They'll keep better," he told himself. He ate one and put the others in the cooler. Jas was washing the fry pan when an old man came out of the cabin. Jas looked up, startled. There had been a padlock on the door to that cabin. Maybe there was a back door? "Friend of Morgana?" the old man asked. "Yeah. She said to meet..." "Inside," the old man said. "Before the bloodsuckers chew the meat from your bones." Jas had noticed the mosquitos. Some of them were big enough to swat with a spatula. The old man turned his back on Jas and hobbled up the walk to the house. The cane he used looked expensive. Silver handle. Iron-shod tip. Partway to the house, the old man looked back at Jas. He arched an eyebrow. "Let me get the fish," Jas said. "Don't want to leave it in the car." He walked quickly towards the Malay. The old man nodded. He opened the screen door when Jas got there and shut it behind him. The front doors were massive, one nested behind the other. What Jas initially thought was a small mudroom or foyer was just passage through the wall, probably a meter thick. It was smaller inside than Jas had imagined. Of course, with meter-thick walls... The windows, which looked like ordinary glass on the outside, were obviously armored glass inside. Triple-paned. Thick. It looked odd. Organic? "Um. Thank you," Jas said. He watched the old man step out of his shoes by the door. Jas unlaced his boots. "Didn't know you were here. I hope we didn't disturb you." "You disturb me." The man pointed towards a curtain. "Toilet." He pointed towards four bunk beds against one wall. "Bed. Fish in the preserver." He pointed to a cupboard. Jas opened the cupboard. It looked surprisingly modern. A nitrogen preserver. He'd heard of them, never used one. He put the whole cooler in there. The man flipped lights on in the house. "Don't like to advertise that the house isn't empty. But I have guests." He tossed wood in the wood stove. "Automated," he said. "Don't touch it." "Um. Sure. I'm Jas, by the way." Jas held his hand out, expecting to shake hands. The man nodded. "I heard." He glanced at Jas's offered hand. "I have a deck of cards, if you want to play Solitaire." "All the modern amenities. Um, thank you." The man barred the outer door and rotated a spindle on the inner one. "Rules. Don't go outside without my say-so. Don't open this door. If your friends come back, you make damned certain they are your friends before you tell me to unbar the door." "Um." "There are things here who tell sad stories and want inside. If they look like your friends it means they ate them." "The cemetery?" The old man laughed. He shook his head. "Naught but friends there. Morgana sent you to me?" "Yes, although send is kind of a strong word for it. She has keys to the cabin?" "She does?" The old man looked surprised. Then he looked shrewd. "Are you an orphan? Your friends are orphans?" Jas was, they all were - including Morgana - but he wasn't going to share that information with this crazy old man. "Hey, um, you wouldn't happen to have a maker?" Jas peered outside through an armored window. "I could fix my car and be on my way." "I'm not investing platinum in that mass of crazed plastic and rust." "You do have a maker." Jas said this with a flat tone, not believing. In this one-room cabin with a toilet behind a curtain. He looked around, not seeing anything modern except for the preserver. A maker? Where? "How would you pay for the platinum, Jas?" Jas nodded. "Kind of between jobs now. That's why we're fishing." "Morgana," the man said. "Ever the font of frayed logic. How old are you, lad?" "Twenty three." He smiled. "Old enough to know better. There is no such thing as free fish." "Yeah, well, Morgana's the same age. I went to school with her." "The same age?" The old man laughed. He leaned against the counter. Wiped tears from his eyes. "Of the same age, I reckon." "Nah. Morgana's a rejuve? Really?" This confused Jas. He'd gone to school with Morgana. Senior year of high school. College. Six years of SCA moots. They'd made armor together, learned fencing and kendo. Played countless hours of Stones and Scepters. Morgana was their DM, and head of the Heroes Guild when they played PAssport on-line. They each had mountains of student debt. The old man shook his head. "Not my place to say. But she's not a rejuve. Never, not once." Jas wondered how safe he was inside the cabin with this old man. Orphan? Jas looked around again. He didn't see any knives or hatchets. No firearms, either. Nor an obvious way down to an unfortunate future in this old man's cellar. But there was a modern-looking fire extinguisher. "May as well sit." The old man pulled a deck of cards from a slot under the counter. He handed it to Jas. "I'm not much for visitors. I've run my confab engine clean out a' words." Then the old man sat in a rocking chair and rocked. "Coffee's in the house tit. Tell the house how you like it." He pulled a hearing aid from his ear and adjusted it. "I don't even know your name," Jas said. "Master of this house," the old man said. "I'm not calling you master." "Perhaps you didn't hear. Mister Hoose." "Oh. Thank you, Mr. Hoose. Which bed's mine?" "Any of them. I sleep here." The rocking slowed. The old man turned his hearing aid off. Then he fell asleep. Apparently. Jas didn't turn his back on the old man except to get coffee. The house tit was well named. He opened a cupboard and saw a thing that looked like a boob or maybe a papaya hanging from the shelf above. The inside of the cupboard made it very plain that this whole house was organic. It probably recycled... Everything? Jas said, "Black, please." He squeezed coffee into a cup. Hot. Steaming. He tasted it. "Not bad for recycled," Jas looked around, unwilling to voice what he was thinking. Recycled old-man piss. He sighed. "Thank you, house," Jas said. The old man stirred just long enough to say, "No problem." Jas played Solitaire. With real cards, there was no replay feature. This frustrated Jas. He lifted cards at the end of the game to see where the card he needed had been. After a while, the light failed. The house was brightly lit in daytime, but the artificial lights were dim and yellow. Jas stood. He stretched. Then he looked out a window at his car. He was mildly surprised at how easy it was to look outside. Non-reflective glass. Fully dark now. Raining. Some lightning. His pasocon was in the car. No reception out here. They'd tried. But it had computer games and half-finished coding projects in Q+/-. He glanced at the door. Thought about wolves and bears. And things that tell sad stories. To open this door, he'd need to wake the old man. Didn't seem wise. He chose one of the bottom bunks. Jas laid on top of the comforter - which looked like an old sleeping bag and smelled of wood smoke. He laid with his back to the wall. The lights dimmed. He watched the old man for a while. Listened to him snore. Then he fell asleep. He woke to the sound of the old man wheeling the spindle of the inside door open. It was dark in here. The only light came from the wood stove. Jas heard the sound of tires rolling on the crushed coral driveway. Rain. Thunder. Meter-thick wall and he could hear outside noises plainly? Jas had only a moment to think about that when the old man said, "Help me with the bar. Open the door. Open the door quickly." They worked together to open the outer door. Jas looked outside, expecting to see a tow truck. Or a motorcycle. Morgana's Range Rover, spattered with mud. Another Range Rover, equally muddy. A Rokon motorcycle with a rifle in the scabbard. Four people exited the cars, and one stepped off the bike. Each of them carried or wore a satchel, a bag, a weapon, and whatnot. Some of the weapons looked modern. Others would be showcased at an SCA moot. Or on display in a museum. Last to emerge was Morgana. It surprised Jas to see that she hadn't been driving. She'd been a passenger in her own car. She never let anyone drive her car. A black man with dark features and darker clothing had been driving. Morgana had a boyfriend? Jas smiled. And she lets him drive? Jas saw Morgana glance inside Jas's car. "Whisht," Mr. Hoose said just loud enough to be heard over the rain. "He's here, witch. I have not left him outside." While the other four jogged in the rain to the house. Morgana hung back for a moment. She looked at the roof, the trees, the yard, and the lake. Then she walked to the door. Not one of the newcomers removed muddy footwear as they entered the house. All of them dripped onto the beautiful waxed parquet floor. The black man spoke. "Status." Mr. Hoose nodded. "You were followed as far as County Road 6. Scouts all around but no intrusion. Not yet. Nothing overhead - nothing I can see, at any rate." "Thank you," the man clapped a gloved hand on Mr. Hoose's shoulder. He looked around. "Morgana?" "The confusion holds. The rain is helping, not a hindrance." She smiled. "That will confuse them ever more." They all relaxed. They dropped weapons and bags. The black man looked at Jas, sizing him up. He glanced to Mr. Hoose. "You have a guest." "I have six," Mr. Hoose stated. "Two new beds in the back. It will take some time, unless you like basic cocoon." "We're not staying," the black man said. "Waiting for one more." "He will be delayed," Mr. Hoose said. "Local law-enforcement is asking for license and registration." Morgana said, "He won't be able to find the safe house. He got to the wall after the confusion fell. There were groans all around. Mr. Hoose looked pointedly at Morgana. "I am Master Hoose, master of this house. This is my guest, Jas. I know three of you. Two I know not." "A pardon," the black man said. "I forget the old ways. I am Athan, captain of the guard. This is Tree Nose, my lieutenant." He pointed to a blonde woman who could pass for a World Wrestling champ. "This is Onsei and Brother, tech gurus." The 'tech' they carried looked like squad-level support weapons. "And Morgana, our unaligned security consultant." Morgana said, "I have clearly chosen a side." Athan spoke while looking askance at Jas. "Something or someone in our organization is compromised. This safe house was cleared recently by people I trust. We had a system-wide failure in our smart systems. The only reason I know this is I was watching when it went down. No flags, no notifications. No error messages. Nothing to tell me we had a three- minute gap in coverage." Onsei groaned. He sat at the table and opened a toughbook. "On it." Athan said. "Problem two might be related. Our willful child has gone missing again." Brother sat at the table and opened another toughbook. "Who is missing?" Athan looked at Jas again. "Our royal." Brother blew out a breath. "Right. A moment." He grunted. "Smart eyes have no record. One moment she's there, one moment not." He frowned. "During that three-minute gap. Okay, no activity on her cash card. Whoa. A huge spike of, er ?? He glanced at Jas. ?advanced tech.? Athan asked, ?Advanced tech?? Brother answered. ?Really advanced tech? Could be our royal engineered this. Lemme see. None of the usual suspects are in-country. No known lovers, no new love interests.? ?Diplomats? Trade representatives?? ?It?s been quiet.? ?The Red Death?? ?Hasn?t been seen in twenty years. Involved with a war someplace. Not here.? He glanced over to Jas. ?Oh, nuts. Speak plainly.? Athan sighed. ?Morgana can wipe his memory in the morning.? Jas heard that plainly. He glanced over to Morgana. She shrugged. Brother nodded. ?The princess is gone. We can?t protect her when she hies off like this. Even the king acknowledges that.? Athan said, ?Something is wrong here. It wasn?t just one set of smart eyes out. We had a global outage. False alarms on four continents. The princess goes missing in that three minute gap?? ?She is known for flashy exits.? ?Never like this.? Jas spoke. ?Maybe she?s been kidnapped. Or killed, and they disposed of the body?? Athan said, ?Put him outside. In the cold.? Mr. Hoose said, ?He?s done naught to warrant that.? Morgana said, ?We need to inform the royals.? Athan sighed. He nodded. ?Another failure. The king will have my head.? Morgana put a hand on his shoulder. ?You are responsible for technical and physical security. Others have the burden of wards and weirds.? Athan said, ?Find her. Eyes above. Roadside cameras. Shake the trees if you have to.? Tree Nose said, ?If she has been kidnapped, the kingdom will be on a war footing by morning.? Onsei said, ?They?re on a war footing now. Recall for all active-duty. Activating the reserves. A confariation. Two confariations. The Red Court is calling for one, also.? Athan said, ?Call His Majesty.? Onsei rotated his toughbook. ?Call from the queen.? Athan pushed back his hood. He bowed for the camera. ?Captain, you are aware?? ?The princess is missing.? ?The princess has been taken. We have a traitor in the guard, a former red-cap. He implicated others. You are hereby relieved of all duties to the crown. Remove your people immediately. This is a fey matter. We will tend to it.? She paused. ?It was a fine experiment, but it ends now. There are factions here who will not tolerate humans or human tech. If....? She considered her words. ?If I am still regent when this resolves, I, we, the crown will consider opening the ways again. As it is, the ways close at moonset after midday. Pull you people out. I have informed your governments. They should be recalling their people now. Any who remain are subject to the laws and praxes of the first fey they encounter. May the saints guide you.? ?And you,? Athan said, bowing. ?Thank you, your Grace, for allowing us to serve.? ?You served well,? the queen said. ?But, in the words of our Red Chancellor, we cannot expect fine wine at a dog?s table. Human tech does not yet suffice. Perhaps in a hundred years, or so. Find us on other worlds, if you can.? She faded out. Onsei said, ?Lost the signal.? Tree Nose said, ?That went better than expected.? ?Yes.? Athan rubbed his throat. ?I still have my head.? He turned to Onsei. ?Recall our people.? ?In process.? Tree Nose said, ?The University.? Athan nodded. ?Who do we have there?? Brother said, ?Team Five.? ?Smooth the way. Call in markers. They?ll be useless after moonset. Might as well use them today.? He turned to Morgana. ?I think this means our contract ends. No more fairy gold.? ?I accept renminbi and dollars.? Athan smiled. ?I am suddenly overstaffed and without a budget.? ?I?m on Tartle.? ?You?re not leaving us for the West?? ?In a war between Red and Green, the ones sure to lose are the Gray. I?m taking a long-overdue vacation. The moon, perhaps. Or Mars.? Athan organized his people. He made phone calls. He used overhead imagery to check the lands around the house. He consulted with Mr. Hoose. Then he and his team left. They took Morgana?s car. Mr. Hoose returned to his rocking chair and turned off his hearing aid. Jas fetched two cups from hooks above the sink. ?How do you like your coffee, Morgana?? ?Blonde, hot, and sweet. That?s it? Your only question? Coffee?? Jas filled two cups of coffee from the house tit. He handed one to Morgana. ?What?s the point? Erasing my memory in the morning, are we?? ?Athan hinted that I should erase your memory. He didn?t order it nor pay for it.? She sat at the table, cradling her cup. ?I was grooming you and your friends for a life of adventure. All is vanity. The ways are closed.? She spread her hands and shrugged. ?No more fairy gold.? Jas grunted. ?I?d look for hidden cameras, an elaborate prank, except that this whole house is a camera, isn?t it?? She nodded. ?And the lands around.? ?The cat?? ?Is a haus monster. Like him.? She nodded to Mr. Hoose. ?Mr. Hoose is a monster?? ?A guardian. An interface, a persona. He is the house; the house is him. The same as the house tit, or the bed.? ?Master of the house. Okay. Thank you, house, for the hospitality.? Mr. Hoose nodded in his rocker. Jas asked, ?Is it actually dangerous outside?? ?Oh, yes. This is a thin spot in the veil between branes. Rips open and close randomly. It will remain a hotspot for the paranormal long after the queen closes the public ways. Cryptids. UFOs. Abductions. Cattle mutilation.? She shrugged. ?Why am I here?? ?I was going to offer employment. The four of you.? ?Orphans.? ?The jobs were dangerous. No guarantee you would return to this world.? She sighed. ?Please accept my sincere apologies. Your recent job loss ... apartment ... car troubles. I, ah, engineered some of that.? ?I should be really pissed at you.? ?Your job sucked. Your life sucked. Your car?? She snorted. ?Not my fault. Mostly?? ?Morgana, you?re such a witch. I can call you that, right? Like a job title or something?? She rolled her eyes. ?I can?t fix your beast,? she said. ?The only reason it got this far was because I buffed it.? She smiled. ?The gas card was charmed. I can arrange for a replacement vehicle.? She took a sip of coffee. ?I need one myself. We?ll make it a two-fer. It might take a few days, though.? ?The fishing?s good. The cat is friendly. As long as the house agrees....? Jas looked over to Mr. Hoose. ?Wait. What?s with all the SCA crap? Swordplay. Kendo. Stones and Scepters?? ?I was teaching you customs, folkways, and mores for another society. Also, how to defend yourself, how to move around in real armor. Important survival tips in the west.? ?The west? Faerie?? She nodded. ?Mind, blown.? Jas put a finger gun to his head. Morgana snorted. ?But useless now.? ?Dunno. You can always get a job at a Renaissance Fair. Be happy I didn?t teach you magic. Very little of that works here. Some of it works in the thin places,? she said, motioning around, ?when there?s an active rip to the right world.? She nodded towards the driveway. ?Out there I?m just another Q+/? programmer with an abundance of luck and good health.? ?I wouldn?t complain. Magic works?? Morgana nodded. ?The simple stuff. Advanced magic requires a huge industrial complex to back it up. Imagine trying to build a space elevator in the stone age. Can?t be done. You need industry. Knowledge. Advanced materials, practical engineering. A massive base of basic services and fabs. Your society put an outpost on Mars. But Mars Free Colony won?t survive if Earth?s industrial complex collapses. Fey tech ? or magic, or whatever you want to call it ? is the same.? ?Is this house fey tech?? ?No. Purely human. Well, not purely. I ?witched in? some improvements.? She held up air quotes for ?witched in.? ?How old is he?? She smiled. ?A few years. Hauswood didn?t exist until the 2030s. But I loaded him with an old friend. So. His database? Memories? Practical experience? Ancient and many-world. Like some of the sages you meet in PASsport.? ?So he?s basically a dryad hosting a ghost.? She shrugged. ?He?s an appkine, hauswood monster, temple guardian, shell companion, magzi, but at heart, he?s a knocker.? She grinned. ?An appleknocker. The original stock for hauswood was apple.? ?What?s a knocker?? ?A noisy poltersprite.? She rubbed her temples. ?Listen when he speaks. If he tells you some arbitrary rule, like no whistling, don?t argue. Ask him about it later, if you?re curious. Be warned, though. His memories are deep and wide but the search function is holographic. Disinterring the whys and wherefores of esoterica sometimes involves a story.?