Contractor (6 page)

get the hell out."

"I suppose, in your case…" Xik sighed

and set his cup down in midair. It vanished.

"Those small creatures are called spawn.

They are tools, bioengineered to prepare the

soul for high-efficiency extraction. Your

brother’s life is now measured in days."

"…how long does it take the work?"

"It depends, but usually between 12 and

24 hours. Felix is at risk."

Daniel shook his head. "That makes no

sense. If people were disappearing that fast,

everyone would notice."

"Magic, Daniel," Xik said, "is

dangerous and nuanced, but very powerful.

Those who lose their souls are replaced by a

magical shell. Over the course of about a

week, that shell steadily vanishes from the

world. This creates a buffer against the kind

of collapse that would alert the populace at

large. All those who knew the lost soul

forget the person even existed." Xik put a

thin finger on his chin. "Or rather…it’s the

other way around. Their existence fades from

reality, and reality bends to compensate. The

time interval is so that reality does not tear."

Daniel frowned hard. "What would

happen if a mother forgot her son? Her entire

life would change. And what about photos,

and paper records?"

"Terrifying, isn’t it? Of course, those

who were closest to the shell don’t survive

unscathed. With holes in their lives that

large, they often develop serious mental

complications as they struggle to justify and

explain their own lives to themselves.

Human population statistics indicate a rise of

mental illness in your developed countries.

This is because developed countries have

more places with big cities, and the Vorid

prioritize places with more people." Xik

folded his arms. "And here you are, happily

ignorant, refusing to assist. Does the issue

seem more relevant now that it’s reached

your own stoop?"

"Will I…forget him? Just like that?"

"Yes—unless you have the power of the

contract. Those with magical gifts are

immune to the effects of the spell; such a

widespread construction can only provide a

thin screen. Of course, with your power,

you’d be able to save him outright."

Daniel couldn’t begin to imagine the

consequences of forgetting Felix. If it wasn’t

for his brother, he didn’t think he would have

made it this far. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"I just want to get on with my life. I’ve

got other things to do. I don’t have time to

save the world. I’m sure there’s plenty of

other people that are more than willing. You

don’t have to waste time on me. But please,

just get rid of that thing on my brother."

"What are these goals of yours, exactly?

What’s driving you so hard?"

"It’s none of your business."

"Fair enough." Xik shrugged. "I would

help you if I could, but my interference in

this world is quite limited. It is an intrinsic

part of the spell that allows me to be here.

Appearing—that is easy. Physically touching

this world requires energy to which I don’t

have access. To save your brother, you must

agree to the contract."

"Let’s see it."

"What?"

Daniel tapped his desk. "Contract this,

contract that. Show me some literature. What

are the rules?"

Xik gestured. There was a soft patter.

Daniel turned around in his chair. Resting on

his desk was a surprisingly mundane stack of

paper. It was exactly six pages of plain,

double-spaced English text.

Daniel licked his thumb and flicked

through it. "This is a magic spell?"

"Spell is a colloquial term in your

language for an act of magic," Xik said. "It doesn’t really mean anything. Magic already

existed in your world before the Vorid

arrived, you know. Many are naturally

talented." Xik took a breath. "So, no, that isn’t the spell. It just outlines what the spell

does."

"How long have the Vorid been here?"

"About ten years," Xik said. "They’re

being fought by your homegrown wizards,

among other things…but they’re losing

ground."

"And…" Daniel thought a moment.

"What are you and your people called,

again?"

"We are known as the Klide."

"How long have you been here?"

"We’ve only been making contracts for

about a month, now," Xik said. "There are

now several dozen contractors scattered

across six of your continents. It’s a

dangerous thing to do."

"Why?"

"We grant you this power with the

understanding that you’ll fight the Vorid, but

without an extremely powerful spell that

takes more energy than we can spare, we

can’t control your use of said talents," Xik

explained. "By making more magicians,

we’re destroying the boundaries of the

magical subculture that already exists in your

world. They’re a secretive bunch, for

obvious reasons, and they have their own

rules and laws. We can’t take responsibility

for what contractors do in their free time, so

there’s plenty of people that would rather we

did nothing." Xik folded his arms. "If we sit and watch, the Vorid will quite literally eat

you. If we do act, there’ll be a new class of

undisciplined superhumans running about and

robbing banks—or what have you. We

choose to act and hope that you’ll sort the

rest with the wash once you’re not being

preyed upon like an easy snack."

"Basically, people can and probably

will abuse their powers when they’re not

fighting Vorid. The magicians that already

exist don’t want to deal with that, or lose

their monopoly on magic."

"Precisely."

"You seem very concerned about energy

use. Are aliens all environmentalists?"

Xik huffed. "We are not a small species

confined to a single planet, like yours. We

use the energy of galaxies to keep our

civilization running. Ultimately, energy is the

currency of universes, of life itself.

Conservation is extremely vital, and the war

is not helping."

"So, the only thing that, uh…" Daniel

paused. "…real wizards dislike is the fact

that untalented snots are getting a shot at

power." Xik nodded, but it was a small,

hesitant motion. "What else, Frogger?"

Xik rubbed the back of his neck. "The

nature of the gift…it’s a delicate subject for

your people."

"I’m getting really tired of beating

around the bush," Daniel said.

"The Vorid are a vast and diverse race,"

Xik said. "Even with the contract in place,

you’re much too weak to defend against any

serious assault. Not to demean your

homeland, but this universe is a tiny

sideshow to the real battle; it has seen only

the earliest probes of Vorid forces.

Therefore, we include in your contract the

ability to grow stronger. This is forbidden by

your indigenous magical community."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Seems

counterproductive to forbid something so

useful."

"Normally, magical talent is decided at

birth," Xik said, "Like a muscle, it can be strengthened with effort, but only so far—

some are just stronger than others. You, a

contractor, absorb the life energy from every

Vorid you destroy, and in so doing, your own

pool of power grows. Contractors become

the Vorid of Vorid."

"Fighting fire with fire. Turn us into

parasites to drain on the parasites."

"Your assessment is accurate," Xik said,

"but it isn’t all so one-sided. We are giving

you the means to fight back, after all.

Consider your own country. The United

States offers military support to regimes

which fight on its behalf. Twenty years down

the line, those same regimes might use those

weapons for nefarious purposes of their

own, but at the time, it seemed a good idea to

give an ally the means to defend itself. Is the

United States fully responsible for the evil

committed later?"

"…that’s oddly specific."

"I am well-versed in your history," Xik

said. "Being a contract manager, I am a sort

of diplomat."

"Does that mean you’ve been in touch

with the…wizards?"

"We made contact a year ago," Xik said.

"We wanted them to take contractors under

their wing, but they…were stubborn. They

resist the idea that life absorption is

necessary to their success, and refused to

accept our help. We’ve failed to convince

them otherwise."

"And now you’re going behind their

backs and doing it anyway."

"We must," Xik said. "Vorid are that

threatening. They are a plague upon the

entirety of the multiverse. We have to use

everything we can to survive.

"But at the same time, we can’t fight

directly," Xik continued. "If the Klide and the Vorid threw their full weight upon one

another, the clash very well might tear apart

something so fundamental that existence

itself would be in danger. And so we fight

around one another. Worlds like yours—

small, isolated—have become the

battleground. We conduct ourselves through

proxies, playing games of territory and

allegiance. We cannot afford to let your

people be absorbed because we can’t afford

any people to be absorbed."

"…it’s a giant, multiversal cold war."

"Frozen solid," Xik confirmed.

"So this getting-stronger process…"

Daniel waved a hand. "…makes the

newcomers on the magic scene a threat to the

old guard? Despite the fact that we have a

common enemy?"

"Unfortunately."

"All anyone ever cares about is political

positioning after the dust settles. It’s this kind

of shit that makes me misanthropic." Daniel

made a face. "I almost want to say yes just to

spite them."

"Almost."

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Why is it

illegal? For natural wizards?"

"It’s so-called dark magic," Xik said.

He raised a gloved hand. "This is a fallacy.

There is no dark and light magic, just as

there are no evil tools and good tools. It is

how it is used that matters. But." Xik went

quiet. "The spell does not—cannot—

discriminate between different forms of life.

If you kill Vorid, you absorb them and grow

stronger. If you kill humans, you absorb them

and grow stronger." Xik met Daniel’s eyes

with his red stare. "If you killed a powerful

magician, or even another contractor that has

absorbed many, many souls…you’d become

that much stronger. Powerful enough,

perhaps, that you couldn’t be challenged."

Daniel swallowed. "I can see why it’s

discouraged."

"Indeed. But against the flood of the

Vorid, we have little choice but to go to such

extremes. If you had to choose between

humanity’s complete erasure or the use of a

nuclear weapon on your own soil, which

would you pick?"

Daniel gave a single nod. "Live today.

Do your best to clean up the mess later."

"Exactly."

"So by signing this thing, I’d become an

illegal alien within the magical community."

"An admirable continuation of our

political metaphor," Xik said, "but I’ll be honest with you. You wouldn’t be looked

upon nearly as favorably as an illegal alien.

Most would consider the contract a curse,

and you a pariah. If you were discovered,

they would take immediate action to stamp

you out." Xik indicated the papers with a

long finger. "The details are there in full.

Study them at your leisure."

"My leisure. I wish." Daniel looked at

him. "How much time does my brother

have?"

"The extractors come at 2am, your local

time, to remove prepared souls once a

month. Based on previous observations of

Aplington, that’s three days from now."

"What’s an extractor?"

"Spawn prepare souls," Xik said.

"Extractors collect the spawn, absorb the

souls, then release the spawn to repeat their

task. Spawn and extractors are both

automated, in a sense. Above them are

overseers, who regulate extractor activity."

"Sounds pretty organized."

"A well-oiled war machine. In fact, this

is all almost completely automated. They

aren’t even paying real attention to you yet."

Xik exhaled. "Perhaps now you’re beginning

to appreciate the threat?"

"Can’t you do something about the

extractor?"

"The strength to fight, channeled across

an interdimensional pipeline, would

consume too much energy."

"Is that a no?"

"Correct."

"…then it’s up to me."

"Yes."

Daniel’s lips thinned. "No other

contractors around here?"

"I’m afraid not."

"No one within three days travel?

Incredible."

Xik gave him sharp look of disapproval.