The Labors of Jasper Episode 22
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The Labors Of Jasper, Episode 02 free porn video
20Jas0002, The Labors of Jasper
Episode 02; 4057 words
It rained all night and was still raining softly when Master Hoose opened
the doors at first light. Jas helped Morgana pull a canoe from its rack
in the boathouse. He watched her select a life vest and change its color
from safety orange to fall camouflage.
"Magic?" Jas asked.
"Smart fabric." Morgana smiled. "Disappointed?"
"I've known you since Grade 12 and never once saw a hint of real magic."
"I made Melissa kiss you in Study Hall."
"That wasn't magic, that was ... hey." Jas rolled his eyes. "Did you just
call me unkissable?"
Morgana pulled out an oar and a bailing cup.
"Have to admit. That was a magical moment," Jas said. He smiled
wistfully.
Morgana snapped her fingers under his nose. A flame appeared. "There.
Happy?"
Jas nodded. He smelled sulfur.
She shook her hand and the flame disappeared.
"Was that magic or chemistry?"
"Magic isn't anything mystical. It's just technology. Nanites, what the
fey call daemons. Cantrips are high-level programming language. One of
the assembly languages is similar to Q+/-, which is why I encouraged you
to learn that language."
"That, and we could cheat at PASsport."
"Not cheating. Hacking. Creating phase space."
"You're avoiding the question. Is magic real or is it all trickery?"
"Why can't it be both? Legerdemain, slight of hand, psychology. Yes,
magic is real. Yes, that was chemistry. Flame always is. Well. Almost
always." She kissed Jas on the cheek. "If Steve shows up, tell him to
call or ping my Tartle account. I'm getting worried. They didn't use my
card last night."
"He can't call from here."
"Right. But you'll be going to April City for groceries. Or beer. Or
going home to hunt for a job."
"We can stay here?"
"For the week. I have to exercise the house systems before I winterize."
"The company...."
"Will kick you out if they need the safe house."
"Are you supposed to be telling me it's a safe house?"
"I'm telling you, not Steve. Don't make me regret that."
"Okay."
She looked up. Rain fell on her face and she smiled. "It's only used for
low-risk clients. It's a place any third-grader would pick for a safe
house. It's in a coverage shadow. It's foggy. When it's not foggy, it
rains. Two-hundred and sixty days of cloud cover in an average year. The
woods here are haunted. Only a few die-hard hunters and trappers. But."
She held up a finger. "Fishermen by the boatload. No privacy on the dock,
not that any of our clients are allowed outside." She held up another
finger. "April City is wired, traffic cams at every intersection." A
third finger. "It's a small community and they gossip. Newcomers stand
out. So." She stood with arms akimbo. "I invite guests here from time to
time. To fish. Or to hunt, but none of you has a firearm."
"Missy has a bow."
"Does she have a permit? A hunter's safety certificate?"
Jas shook his head.
Morgana considered that. "Tell her to bring it next time. Squirrels and
rabbits are legal year-round. So are rats." She nodded towards the north
end of the lake, where it was sunny. "In a bona fide emergency, ask the
house for a boat. The other side of this lake has coverage. You don't
have to go all the way to the sun line, just wait for your phone to light
up. It's faster than the drive back to town. Oh. Your car should be ready
by Monday."
"My car?" Jas looked over to his beast.
When he looked back, Morgana was gone and so was the canoe. He didn't see
her in the lake, hadn't heard her leave. He stuck his head out into the
rain and looked. He saw no evidence of her passing. The only ripples he
saw came from the rain.
Jas adjusted his ballcap and jogged over to the car. A carport had grown
over it overnight. There was a set of woven hauswood shelves next to the
car. Jas examined the weave. Organic. Well, duh. It seemed stout enough
to support a toolbox. Or a duffel.
Master Hoose appeared beside him. Jas startled.
The old man said, "Please remove items you don't want recycled."
"You're fixing my car?"
"I regret to report I have no license to assemble a Malay."
"You called a tow? I can't pay for a...."
"We'll recycle it here."
Jas looked around. He didn't see an industrial fab. Nor a junkyard
shredder. "Okay." He opened the doors. Jas pulled out his clothes,
Sheena's fishing rods and tackle box, bags of girl stuff, towels,
shampoo, whatnot. Steve's duffel and swimming gear.
Steve had packed fins and mask? In October? Jas marveled at that. Ah, but
here was Steve's dry suit. Okay.
Jas smiled when he found Melissa's tote. It smelled of Melissa. He
resisted the urge to open it.
Everything went onto the shelf. It never seemed to fill. Jas looked over,
and watched trees bend down to swing his duffel from tree to tree and
into the house. He glanced over to Mr. Hoose.
"Friends."
"Oh-kay." Last items out of the car were a picture of Jas's mom and a
shard of armor from a Paladin mobile artillery platform.
Mr. Hoose examined the shard. "This is good alloy."
"Not for recycle."
Mr. Hoose nodded.
Mr. Hoose spent the morning teaching Jas what was good to eat in the
forest this time of year. The rain continued, soft but penetrating. They
collected roots, berries, the bark from certain trees, and some fungus
that looked like neon brains or mac-n-cheese. After a while, Jas was
soaked to the skin, cold and shivering.
Mr. Hoose produced a steaming mug of ginger tea. As they walked back, Mr.
Hoose taught Jas about tracks and signs. He pointed out good locations
for snares and deadfalls. As they approached the gates to Mr. Hoose's
wooded yard, Jas heard a great stuttering crunch. He saw his car collapse
in a tangle of vines and hauswood.
"I liked that car," Jas said. "It needed constant upkeep, but it was a
great starter-car."
"You want something that is modular and easy to repair."
Jas shrugged. "My cousin has a Bukswagen Gift. When it breaks down, he
calls a repair spider. Nothing on that car can be serviced by the owner.
Worse, the parts don't recycle. You need a poison-tolerant automotive
maker to manufacture the parts." Jas shuddered. "Expensive. There's only
one maker for it in the tri-county area. No poisoned goods, please - even
if it takes more mass to make it."
Mr. Hoose nodded.
"Of course, here I am rattling on. You're making a car? I'll be happy
with anything that drives. Thank you."
"Tonbridge uses no poison."
"Tonbridge? I can't afford that."
"It's the only motor vehicle license I have. I'm recycling your car for
mass. That reduces the cost."
"Street-legal?"
"Of course. You want the sow or the boar?"
"Eh?"
"I'm making two. Your patron also needs a vehicle."
"Cars have sexes?"
"Have you not seen Car Wars?"
"Yes, but that's a cartoon.... Wait. You're pulling my leg."
"A bit. Ah. The lady of the lake is here."
Jas looked up. He saw Morgana stepping out of her canoe onto the dock.
"More like Carr and Parr," he said.
Mr. Hoose chuckled. "I think that makes me Kray."
"Hells, I hope not." Jas smiled. "Your confab engine works fine today,
Mr. Hoose."
Mr. Hoose shrugged. He bowed to Morgana, who curtsied. Mr. Hoose took her
bags. The trees bent down, swinging her bags to the open door of the
house.
Morgana walked with Mr. Hoose and Jas, splashing in shallow water atop
crushed coral. "The lake is rising," she said. "The graveyard is flooded.
The house will be next."
"All this land is tiled," Mr. Hoose said. "Water can rise to the roof and
beyond."
They sloshed towards the house. "Steve and the girls are missing,"
Morgana said. "I found the bike and some personal items." She produced a
cell phone, a PAS, and her gas card. "They checked into a motel but
didn't use my card. Idiots. They used their own money."
Jas said, "We're all careful with your money, Morgana."
"Yes, but that card would have protected them. Kept them anonymous, at
the least."
"And how would they know that? Did you out yourself to them?"
Morgana looked sharply at Jas. "My treat, I told you guys. My treat. I
said, use the card. Why am I surprised at human contrariness?"
"They didn't listen. Because, in the real world, why would it matter?"
"Real world? Let me tell you about the real. It obviously does matter.
They're missing."
"The youngling has a point, witch."
She sighed. "Were there any rips that night, Master Hoose?"
"A few small events. Nothing near the road. Nothing near town."
"Keep your eyes out, please?"
He nodded.
Morgana said, "It still could be something simple. Bureau 13. The
sheriff. Is Steve still dealing?"
Jas nodded. "Untaxed cigarettes."
"I'll check the arrest logs. They won't keep him long for cigarettes."
Jas thought about that. April City had a rep. He said, "Pretty sure he
didn't bring the ciggies. Sheena made him empty his bag."
Mr. Hoose held up a finger. "A rip. In the daylight. Unusual."
"It might be Athan with Team Five."
"Earth Nine. A flood of mana. Medium sized flyer. Might be a dragon.
Carrying another. The smaller being has two legs. Appearance is fluid. No
ID on either of them."
"A dragon? Where? How far?"
Mr. Hoose pointed with his nose. "A league. There is fey blood on the
ground. The flyer dropped her charge. Another rip. The flyer returned.
Mana is still pouring in. Pylon, Type II."
"Where is the injured fey? Ping my specs, please."
Mr. Hoose nodded. "Leerie's driveway. Female. Human or humanoid.
Witchery. Can't get a good look at her. But she is bleeding and dropping
mana. Almost as much as the pylon."
Morgana glanced from Mr. Hoose to Jas. "Keep him in the house."
"The hell with that," Jas said. "She's injured."
"That's when they're most dangerous," Morgana said.
Mr. Hoose touched Morgana's shoulder. Then he stood stock-still. "The
trees." He looked towards the gate, seemingly rooted in place.
Morgana snapped fingers in front of Master Hoose's nose. She traded a
look with Jas. "My bags." She glanced to the house. "Now." She sprinted
to the house.
Jas ran with her.
She took a staff and handed Jas a saber. "In this life, kill quickly and
efficiently. No rules except this. Don't show that steel unless you plan
to kill with it."
Jas nodded.
"With me." She trotted out into the rain. The earth started shaking.
Heaving. The water in the lake roiled. Jas heard a sharp crack and saw
the dock and the boathouse get carried out into the lake.
Was that a tentacle? Jas gave it a second look. Just a tree root. A
strong current carried the dock and boathouse north. Jas shuddered. He
turned and followed Morgana, glad to get away from the lake.
The earthquake intensified. It made running difficult. He managed. It was
like running in a fun-house. He heard trees popping, and branches
falling. He smelled fresh mud and freshly broken trees. He caught up to
Morgana at the gate.
She'd stopped.
The trees ahead were swaying, almost dancing. It looked for a moment like
they were....
Marching?
No. But the tombstones were. For all the world, it looked like they were
floating, flat-back on the soggy ground, and flowing like they had an
army of ants moving each one. North. Jas heard a double crash behind. He
looked back to see the house stoved in, broken by two great trees that
had fallen on top of it.
Meter-thick walls had buckled like wet clay. Jas saw boulders rise up in
the muddy wreckage of the house. Each boulder was larger than his car.
Some were as large as the house.
Morgana grinned. "Some magic is freakin' awesome. Let's go. She'll need
help." She picked her way along the road. "Have care. Don't get in the
way of these stones." A grave marker zipped around Morgana.
Japhet Gryls. 1797 - 1860.
The coral from the driveway became mobile. It flowed like a swarm of
bees, following the tombstones. As it flowed around Jas's legs, he felt
an urge to follow along.
Jas ignored that calling. He trudged along behind Morgana.
Mr. Hoose passed them, running so fast it looked like he might be flying.
He made it to the other end of the graveyard in the time it took Jas and
Morgana to trot twenty meters. Swaying trees daisy-chained a package to
Master Hoose and dropped it in his arms.
A person?
Mr. Hoose turned around and started walking back.
"We're not done yet," Morgana said. She urged Jas on.
The iron fence that had surrounded the cemetery ripped itself out of the
earth and rolled north.
"What is going on?" Jas asked as he ran.
"Someone's redecorating. Don't think she likes Early American Genocide."
They made it to Mr. Hoose. He carried a woman, perhaps a girl. She was
naked, except for a loincloth and a collar. She was obviously injured.
Her feet were bloody and had been slashed in several places. Bruises
covered her body. Some were yellow but most were black. Her hair had been
shaved off. Or had fallen off. She looked like a cancer patient, except
that she still had eyebrows. Oddly shaped ears. Jas noticed other
details. Toothy, her teeth seemed outsized for her mouth. Underarm hair.
Torn and bloody toenails. Small boobs. She looked prepubescent except for
the bushy eyebrows and massive overgrowth of underarm hair. She'd been
branded recently, on the buttock and on her neck. The brands were still
bloody but they looked like ... glyphs? Something from the Compendium of
Scepters and Stones.
Body odor. Ew. She smelled like the wastebasket in Melissa's washroom.
Vomit. Vodka. Feminine hygiene products.
The girl glanced over to Jas and looked puzzled. Then she saw Morgana.
She smiled for a moment. Then her eyes rolled up and she went limp.
The earthquakes stopped.
Morgana struck the ground with her staff. She said something in a loud
voice. Jas recognized it from gaming. She invoked the name of ...
somebody. They'd gone on a quest.... For a particular goddess? But that
had been a game and this was real.
The earth started shaking again.
Morgana said, "Can't leave it half-done."
"What did you do?" Jas asked as he and Morgana hustled to keep up with
Mr. Hoose.
"Reminded them who they work for." They trudged up a small stony rise to
the trees that had fallen on Mr. Hoose's house. It was now a small island
in swampy ground.
Mr. Hoose examined the ruins. "Witch, we will have words." He stepped
between boulders and dropped down into a hole.
A cave. Of sorts. Almost looked like steps going down. Jas hesitated.
Then he followed Mr. Hoose into darkness.
Morgana stood outside, apparently supervising the chaos of earthquake and
falling trees.
Jas stepped into a room. It was warm, and looked familiar.
It was the inside of the cabin. Mostly just as he remembered it. Instead
of windows there were electronic displays. And there was an extra bed. It
jutted out into the room. Mr. Hoose laid the girl in the bed and covered
her with a sheet. The sheet flexed, flowed and conformed as if alive.
It occurred to Jas that what he was seeing might be an illusion caused by
the earthquake.
Master Hoose said, "If you know any prayers, now's the time." He reached
out and steadied a lamp as it fell.
"I'm not much for praying," Jas said. "Is that the princess?"
"Aye, lad."
"She's dying?"
"Not today." He stepped back. "That's thirty-seven kilograms of many-
worlds war. Run fast, Mr. Rostami. Run far. Mars sounds good. A
generation ship to Alpha Centauri sounds better. Wonder how much mass I
can ship out." He looked at the roof as if looking at sky.
"What happened to her?"
"Nothing good."
The earth stopped shaking. Morgana came down the steps. She shut the
doors behind her. She looked at Jas. "By local law, we should all observe
forty days of quarantine. Contact with an alien." Morgana nodded towards
the princess. "I'll ask once. Are you in? Or out?"
Jas thought about that. "A life of adventure?"
"A short one," Mr. Hoose said. "With a gruesome end."
Morgana glanced over to the master of the house.
"He needs to know."
Morgana said, "I made you. I can unmake you."
Master Hoose stood tall. He locked gazes with Morgana.
She chuckled. "Cheeky pukwudgie." She sighed. "Old friend. You speak
truth. Of course you speak truth."
Jas said, "I'm in. If it's war, it might come here. And my friends...."
Morgana nodded. "Might already be in it. He's right, though." She rotated
a thumb toward Master Hoose. "We're overmatched. A quick defeat is
likely. A lingering death."
Jas looked down at the princess. "Does she deserve what she's running
from?"
"The brand marks her as a brothel slave. I stand between her and that."
Jas nodded. "I stand with you. What can I do?"
Morgana smiled grimly.
The princess stirred. "Chey vek?" It came out as a whisper.
Morgana knelt by the bed. "I'm here."
The princess coughed. In a croaking voice, she managed two words in
English.
"A sword."
The princess touched Morgana's face with a shaking hand. She coughed
again.
Jas knelt. He unsheathed the saber. He handed it to Morgana. She handed
it to the princess.
The princess touched Jas with the sharp end of that sword. She whispered
a long chant in a language that sounded foreign to Jas, but at the same
time it sounded familiar.
It was a sibilant chant, like Parseltongue, from Harry Potter movies. It
was the perfect language for a person with a mouthful of large teeth.
She touched both his shoulders with the blade.
The world spun. Jas fell to the floor.
His world filled with pain. Massive headache. Teeth. His whole mouth felt
swollen. Tired. A car wreck, when he was twelve. He'd woken up in a
hospital, feeling just like this. Nauseated. Battered. Dizzy. Sharp pains
when he moved. Ribs broken. Feet. Christ and the Fisher. This hurt. He
opened one eye. He tried to make sense of the noise he was hearing. An
argument. Master Hoose was in a rage, arguing and accusing Morgana
and....
Himself?
Interesting dream. Jas didn't understand any of the words. Didn't want
to. He tried to speak. The effort from that, and the pain it caused,
knocked him out again.
He surfaced again to a house filled with people. Conversation in English.
Mostly.
Athan was here. Team Five. GPS. Didn't match? Something about quarantine.
Yeah. Okay. Quarantine. That made sense. Morgana had mentioned....
Oh, fuck, this hurt. What had happened?
Jas opened one eye. He coughed. Oh, that hurt. Raw throat and broken
ribs. His mouth hurt. Jas instinctively hunted for the gap. He was
missing a molar. It sometimes collected food and got infected.
No gap. Was he wearing his retainer?
It especially hurt down there. It hurt to pee. Oh, fuck, he was peeing.
Peeing ... the bed? His gut twisted. Had someone had kicked him in the
nuts? He felt liquid. Escaping. Oh, great. He'd shit the bed, too. Oh,
hells. It hurt. Why did his asshole hurt? Why did everything hurt? Why
was he in bed?
He fell asleep wondering.
Jas woke again. Dark now. Snoring and low conversation someplace.
Crackling from the wood stove. He could move one arm. His collar bone
felt broken, so he moved it gingerly.
His head itched. They'd shaved his head while he was out. Stubble. Like
the buzz cut they gave you in Wilderness Camp.
Someone came over in the dark to stand beside the bed.
Jas managed to speak one word. "Water." It hurt to speak. But he was
thirsty. Lips were dry and cracked. Swollen, too.
A cup. Cool water. Jas choked on the first sip, but swallowed the rest of
it.
The cup-bearer was female. She smelled of mint shampoo and fresh bread.
Tree Nose spoke a greeting in another language. She used polite
inflection, reserved for royals and people of similarly high status. Jas
answered in the same language without thinking, using the same
inflection.
Morgana had taught him how to speak to royalty in The Realms, as she
called them.
Gaming. Jas wondered briefly if that meant Tree Nose was royal.
"...Me up," Jas said. He'd spent all of his energy in this brief
conversation. It was all he could manage. What he'd intended to say was,
"Help me up. I have to pee." He tried again. "Have to make salt," he
said.
Making salt?
Jas coughed. He said, "Pee."
His voice was raspy and pitched. He'd been punched in the throat at age
sixteen and had spoken like a girl for a week.
This was like that. Plus a horrid case of strep throat.
Tree Nose helped him rise. She said something in another language.
Jas looked at her. He'd almost caught the meaning of what she'd said.
"Right," Tree Nose bowed briefly. "English in the house of the English.
Chinese in their house. Pardons, lady."
Lady. Dark. Tree Nose obviously thought he was the princess. Probably in
the next bed over.
How had he ended up injured? Was the princess still hurt?
Questions for another day. Jas concentrated on getting upright and
getting to the toilet. He didn't want to pee the bed again.
His feet hurt but he expected that. Collar bone. Ribs. Thighs were also
sore. Deep injuries. Maybe broken bone. His back. Punched in the kidneys,
maybe.
Nausea. Jas took a moment. The sheet fell off.
A huge mass of pubic hair. How long had he been out? He normally trimmed.
Skinny. He'd lost a lot of body weight.
"Naked," he said. He tried to say, "Sorry," but didn't have the energy.
Tree Nose covered him with a wrap skirt. One of Melissa's skirts.
Jas didn't argue. He accepted it. He stood.
Tall. Wow. Tree Nose was taller than he remembered. He rested his head
against her breast.
They hobbled together to the toilet. Lights came on dimly in the cabin as
they walked. Tree Nose shut the curtain.
Jas braced battered knees against the toilet. He considered using the
urinal in the wall next to the toilet.
Too wobbly to stand. Besides, his feet hurt. He turned. Pulled the skirt
off. Eased down onto the seat. Diarrhea and pain. Again.
He peed. It burned, as before, but....
Oh.
That's why she'd called him Lady.
He'd traded bodies with the Princess.
Somehow.
That explained why everything hurt.
It also explained the body fluids when he wiped. The leaking from his
butt-hole, which was gaping and raw. Blood. And semen.
More blood up front. More semen, too.
Jas sighed. He glanced at his chest.
Boobs. Small but definitely female. Pale nipples.
Armpit hair, too. He shut his eyes. Didn't they shave in the West?
Jas felt gorge rise. He tried to keep it down. Broken bones. Raw throat.
It would hurt.
The gorge rose anyway. He vomited into the urinal.
It smelled vile. He cried out from the pain and from the smell of it.
Tears fell from his eyes. His throat opened. An amazing volume of spew
jetted out. It splattered. Face and chest. Ears. It would be in his hair,
if he had any.
And now he knew. Now he knew what partly-digested sperm looked and
smelled and tasted like. He'd filled the urinal to overflowing. He
watched it drain.
His gorge rose again.
He vomited four times into that urinal. Until he vomited bile.
How much of it had she swallowed?
Not a wonder his throat hurt.
"Her," he thought to himself. "Her throat. Not mine."
He took comfort in that. He spoke through the curtain in a croaking
voice. "Is there a bath?" He pulled at his collar. Why was he still
wearing a collar?
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