A score of heralds sounded their trumpets, and Kaiser Mors V of Shireroth stepped into the conference room. Blind to the elegant and regal surroundings, he stumbled to the seat directly across from his Toketan counterpart, and then half-sat, half-fell into the chair.
"Excuse me," asked Bayen ronToketi, King of Toketi and Triumvir of the Confederacy of Gralus, "but are you drunk?"
The Kaiser nodded, enthusiastically. "Drunken diplomacy. My Minister of the Exterior says it's all the rage in ambassadorial circles these days. Course, he was drunk when he said it, but I thought it sounded like a good idea. Course, I was drunk at the time..." He rambled on for a few more sentences.
"Well," said King Bayen ronToketi, choosing his words carefully. "We of Gralus are honored that you came at all on such short notice. I trust your flight to Rillanon was comfortable?"
"Don't remember," said the Kaiser. "I was roaring drunk the whole way over."
"Be that as it may," said King Bayen, who was already beginning to regret taking his advisors' suggestion to involve Shireroth in this matter, "we are grateful to you for appearing here today. We realize it's almost unheard of to request the presence of a head of state on only a day's notice, and without any explanation, but we promise we can fill you in quickly."
"Take your time," said the Kaiser.
The conference room was roughly elliptical, with the King and the Kaiser sitting on opposite ends of a short mahogany table. In the front of the room, a screen elegantly disguised as a wall sparked to life, and displayed a map of the Gralan Confederacy.
"The current, ah, trouble begins over seven hundred years ago, with a 23rd century wizard, Malegorn the Unremarkable."
"Malegorn the Unremarkable?" asked the Kaiser.
"Well, not every wizard can be an Andreas the Wise, or even a Nicholas the Mad".
"I never said they could," the Kaiser responded, defensively, and dared the King to say otherwise.
"Yes, ah, of course not. This Malegorn the Unremarkable is known for only one thing, a curious monument he left behind." On the map, a yellow dot formed between the Gralan towns of Dekiru City and Dekinai City. "This is Dekiru-Kamo-Shirimasen City" said Bayen. "Nowadays, just a small village. In the twenty-third century, a center of magical scholarship."
"I never said it wasn't," grumbled the Kaiser.
"It is the location of Malegorn's lone monument, a stone pyramid about the height of a man. On the front of the pyramid is written the message 'The World Will Not End Anytime Soon'. That's it. One of Gralus' most useless magical monuments, added to the Register of Thaumaturgically Significant Artifacts soleley because of its age and its association with a wizard of mediocre talents. Utterly without merit."
"I never said it wasn't," the Kaiser replied.
"But that's exactly the thing," said King Bayen. "Three days ago, the inscription disappeared, replaced with the inscription 'The World Will End In Fourteen Days'. So of course we sent the police around looking for whoever vandalized the monument. Not only could we not find anyone, but the next morning when someone went to check the pyramid, it said 'The World Will End In Thirteen Days'. This really spooked the caretakers. They posted a guard with a video camera in front of the monument that night, to find out who was doing it. And at midnight, there was a sudden flash of octarine light, such as frequently appears during magical transformations..."
"I never said it doesn't!" the Kaiser interrupted.
"...and the pyramid now said "The World Will End In Twelve Days". Our top wizards now believe that Malegorn's monument is actually a Prophecy Manifold, a device previously known only in theory, capable of displaying accurate messages about future events. The pyramid might have been set to display messages about pending apocalypses. Since no apocalypse has been pending for the past several centuries, the device remained inert and its purpose was not clear. Now the device has woken up. But if that's true, it means...the world really will end in eleven days and five hours!"
"I never said it wouldn't," said the Kaiser.
"Excuse me," asked Bayen. "Are there any more
sober Shirerithians I can speak to?"
The Kaiser looked hurt. "Oh, all right," he said. Before King Bayen could protest, he banged his head against the table - once, twice, three times - as hard as he could. "There," he said. "All better."
Bayen stared at him, mouth agape.
"Now," said the Kaiser. "Clearly if you think the world's ending, and you've called me here, you believe there's something I, or Shireroth, can do to help you prevent it. Please explain to me how we can help, and I promise to put all the resources of Shireroth at your disposal."
Bayen looked bewildered for a second, but then continued. "I was reading in the papers last month about that guy from Shireroth who along with his girlfriend discovered the hoard of the pirate captain Tgaoth, based on clues he found on an old encoded map. That was very impressive. And I thought - if anyone can figure out what the message means, and how to save the world, it would be that guy."
"But," the Kaiser protested "there's a big difference between deciphering a map and discovering some unknown threat to the world that's stayed hidden for who knows how long. I mean, we don't even have any clues to go on."
"I can help with that," said Bayen. He produced a small, ornately decorated silver box, from which he extracted an instrument resembling a clock or compass. "This is an aleithiometer, or 'golden compass', a source of hidden knowledge. If its user asks a question by..."
"Like in the movie!" the Kaiser exclaimed.
"NO!" said Bayen. "Totally different! That was a mere fictional device, the vagaries of a deluded dilettante. It has nothing to do with this aleithiometer except for the same name, function, and mechanism. Oh, and just like in the movie, this is the only one left in the world. But other than that it's TOTALLY DIFFERENT!"
"Okay," said the Kaiser. "Let me see." Bayen grudgingly relinquished the instrument to Mors, who took it in his hand and fiddled with the dials. Then he said, in a booming mystical voice, "O GREAT ALEITHIOMETER, TELL ME WHO WILL BE MY SUCCESSOR!"
Nothing happened.
"You're still using it like the one in the movie!" said Bayen. "This one works differently. You need to use a single word."
The Kaiser concentrated on the word "successor."
In the three squares below the aleithiometer mechanism, images began to coalesce. First, the numbers one, two, and three. Second, a camel. Third, a dead sheep's head.
"That makes no sense," said the Kaiser, finally.
"The art of reading the aleithiometer is difficult," Bayen admitted. "There are no living masters. Nevertheless, I can hazard a few guesses. For example, the first panel. 1,2, and 3 are the numbers in order, like someone counting. So maybe your successor will be someone who's currently a Count."
"Which count?" Mors asked.
"The second panel has a camel. Camels are, I think, mostly native to Babkha, are they not? So perhaps your successor will be a Count with Babkhan ancestry."
"And the dead sheep's head?"
"I don't know. The aleithiometer takes a lifetime to master. But a person of sufficient intelligence and intuition can do wonders with it after only a minimal amount of training."
"So you're suggesting we give the aleithiometer to that scavenger hunt guy from Shireroth, and tell him to use it to find out what's threatening the world?"
"Exactly!" said King Bayen.
"I approve of this plan. But how is my subject to use the aleithiometer when we don't even have any leads? If we ask it 'world', or 'apocalypse', it could interpret that any number of ways."
"We have one lead," said Bayen. "The word that appeared in ancient runes on the back of the pyramid, glowing with brilliant octarine fire."
"Why didn't you mention that beforehand?" the Kaiser asked.
"I was keeping it for a suitably dramatic moment," said the King, chagrinned.
"All right, it's suitably dramatic now," said the Kaiser. "Give me the aleithiometer, tell me the word, and you have my word that all the top treasure hunters in my empire will know about it, and be given government expense accounts to buy any plane tickets they might need to investigate."
"Very well," said King Bayen ronToketi. "The word of the day is...ATTEROCK"
You get 1 aleithiometer!
You get 1 plane ticket!