Operation: Marraketh
"Slip Slidin' Away"

"We're working our jobs, collecting our pay
 Believe we're gliding down the highway
 When in fact we're slip slidin' away."
--Paul Simon, "Slip Slidin' Away"

	The Great Hall. If you have never seen it, you are 
missing out. The floor is painted in a map of Marraketh, updated 
every few years to add cities and towns. The walls contain scenes 
from Marrakethian legend painted on its walls, including one 
panel that has nothing in it. It is rumored that wall is the wall 
of things yet to come for Marraketh, and will paint itself with 
the scenes of famous history as they occur. But it is just legend 
as so many things are in this land.
	At the end of the Great Hall stands a throne. Normally, 
it was the seat for the king, and his advisors sat around him, 
but things had changed. The greatness of the Great Hall had been 
made into a perversion for the Master. He had been drawn in 
(albeight rather crudely) into the murals on the wall, and the 
room was now decorated in ungodly shades of purple and green. And 
on the throne sat a man who would probably go unnoticed on any 
street on Earth.
	Sid Harldcast was bored. Here he was, the Master of 
Marraketh's most important advisor, and there was nothing for him 
to do. The Master was off, attending to business elsewhere, and 
Marraketh was running smoothly. Too smoothly.
	Sid scowled at his battleplan map. There was unknowns--
too many. The Chi-Linians were neutral outwardly, but there were 
many Marrakethian refugees there, and an attack would be easy. 
The sea might not hold intruders at bay anymore. And then there 
was Tyrene.
	Well, Tyrene himself wasn't much of a problem any more. 
The Master had made sure Tyrene paid for his dirty trick. But 
nobody knew what would happen with Tyrene's daughter. [How old is 
she now?] thought Sid. [Old enough to really do damage if she 
found out the truth. I have to find some way to stop her!]
	But Ryan was doing an adequate job enough of watching 
her. Although Ryan hadn't been told what exactly he was doing 
until he was sixteen, he had admirably tried an assassination 
plan the next week. When that failed...
	Sid was interrupted by a court page. There were tears 
running down his cheek, but the insipid smile was still plastered 
on his face.
	"Sssssssssssir?" sniffled the page. "There, there, there, 
is bad news. The Master is dead." The page started bawling upon 
delivering this news.
	Sid scowled some more. "Go away," he said to the bawling 
court page. The page sniffled, and wandered out the huge double 
doors that lead into the great hall.
	The doors slammed shut, and Sid grinned an evil grin. He 
pulled a sealed purple envelope out of the safe in the corner of 
the room, and slid his finger under the flap. The flap lifted 
easily, and Sid pulled out the message inside.
	"Hey Siddy, my super-de-dooper friend! If you're reading 
this, I have been killed by one of those mean and nasty Jihaddi 
who are always such pains! But never fear, I will soon be back to 
reclaim my territory. In the meantime, Siddy, you are head of my 
super-de-dooper province of Marraketh. I know you'll do great! 
Hope to see you soon. Barney."
	Sid stuffed the letter back inside the envelope. Finally! 
He could do what he pleased with Marraketh. And he could go after 
that punk Katze kid and make sure she couldn't do any damage to 
him.
	But first?  "Get the troops ready, we are placing a guard 
on the sea." He grinned, as he knew his troops would hear, even 
though he was alone in the Great Hall.
	He cackled maniacally, and jumped down from his throne, 
ready to lead the troops. He left the room, stomping across the 
map of Marraketh in the process. But if he'd looked closely, he'd 
have seen the blank panel was not blank any more, but contained a 
couple specks of color.

			~~~

	Professor Schmidt was working on a research paper in his 
office when someone came knocking at his door. He looked up from 
his paper on French conjugations of verbs, and their effect on 
the French people. "Who is it?" he asked, reaching for a bunch of 
papers that would become, someday, the authorative text on D'wani 
grammar. [That may never happen,] he reminded himself as he filed 
the manuscript away in his desk.
	A face poked itself in the office door. It was Thalin 
Shalinkurk, a trusted advisor of his from Marraketh, and one of 
the GSI's for the linguistics class he was teaching. "Thalin, how 
goes it?" he asked.
	Thalin closed the door behind him, and took a seat. He 
then asked, "English or Marrakethian?"
	"Marrakethian. Need to keep up the practice, although it 
may be never that we return."
	"Yes, Captain Mrythen. Anyway, news has come in from our 
operative in Chi-Lin. Good news possibly, if you want to consider 
it that. The Master has left Marraketh in the hands of his most 
trusted advisor as he goes to deal with things elsewhere."
	"Oh? This is indeed fortuitous news. But we will not 
attack."
	"Why not? We have the manpower scattered between Chi-Lin 
and Earth, and you know the Chi-Linians will back us in a battle. 
The hour is now, the minute is here! The sea is down, and may not 
be down for long![1]"
	"You do not understand. The Master is, of course, a 
spirit. He lives not in the world of mortals, as he has taken 
over many a dimension besides our beloved Marraketh. It is up to 
the Man Across the Sea[2] to decide whether it is time."
	"You are letting your religion get in the way of common 
sense!"
	"I am not. I have listened to the words, and I have 
followed them. If it were not for my stouch faith in Him, I would 
believe Marraketh would have no chance." Professor Schmidt rose 
from his chair, and began pacing around his office. "It was so 
clear, though. I am not to do anything right now, except wait. I 
am needed, but not quite yet. This is what the Man tells me. If I 
chose to believe it, then let me believe it. The Guard[3] does 
not move until I tell it to. I do not plan to tell it to move 
quite yet."
	"You are a fool, Mikje," Thalin said, switching to his 
commanding officers first name to show his contempt. "You would 
let an old children's story ruin your chance to regain Marraketh 
forever. A complete and total fool, to believe in the passing 
fable of a children's story!"
	Professor Schmidt stopped his pacing across the room. 
"Then, my friend, if it were not for the will of a higher power, 
how am I able to know both Marken Yuvall and you?"
	"I do not know. You are indeed blessed with the quality 
of timelessness. But perhaps the rumors are true, perhaps you did 
sell out to Yuvall." Thalin squirmed in his seat as he said these 
last words.
	Professor Schmidt dropped into a chair. "How I wish I 
could find him, and prove he was dead." he whispered to himself. 
Then he looked back at Shalin. "I predict Marraketh will be 
liberated by the end of this year," he said, slowly. "And it will 
not be the Guard who does it."
	Thalin stood up, prepared to leave. "Good-day, Captain, 
you senile old fool. If your prediction does not come true?"
	Professor Schmidt had already turned back to his report. 
"Then I will be dead, and there will be a new Captain of the 
Guard. For my advisor will not stand for such foolery from a 
senile old fool who supposedly cut a deal with Marken." Then 
switching suddenly back to English, he said, "Good day, Thalin, 
and thank you for helping me with my report."
	He waited until the door closed. He then looked over his 
report. [Little does he know that the senile old fool knows 
exactly what will happen?] he thought to himself, and then went 
back to concerning himself with the conjugations of French verbs.

			~~~

	BONG! The clock struck midnight as fog swept through the 
garden. BONG! The hedges looked like animals who were going to 
come alive to guard the castle. BONG! Statues twisted in 
grotesque shapes. BONG! Red eyes glowed in strange combinations. 
BONG! A figure stepped onto the field to see exactly where she 
was. BONG! BONG! BONG!
	Katze looked around the grotesque playing field. It was 
surreal, but pieces seemed familiar, as if there should be 
somewhere that resembled this place. BONG! Why had she been 
called here? It didn't seem like the right place to have a 
confrontation. BONG! BONG! Nervousness worked its way across 
Katze's body, much like goose-bumps, and she tried to teleport 
out of this place. But it was...
	BONG! The last strike on the bells brought an eerie 
spectre to the battlefield. [Why did that word come to mind?] 
thought Katze. As in answer to her thought, a lightning bolt 
crashed down upon the field, delivering an opponent. Katze did 
not recognize the figure, as his face was hooded and his body was 
hidden under loose fitting robes. He carried only a scepter. 
[Good day, lady of the house of Katze.]
	Katze looked at the figure. "Who are you, and what do you 
want from me?"
	[Ah, my lady, I cannot say. But I am here to destroy 
you.]
	"Destroy me?"
	[Yes.]
	"But why?" Katze looked at her hands, hoping somebody 
would perform a miracle and free them from the bondage of not 
being able to fight. The red eyes tiptoed out of their hiding 
spots and surrounded Katze and the figure so that Katze could not 
flee on foot. Katze started pleading inwardly with whatever gods 
there were to make this a fair fight.
	[Because you are a hindrance to the Master. En guarde!] 
The figure raised his scepter toward one of the moons in the sky 
and then aimed it at Katze. [G'bye, my lady Katze!]
	Katze ducked and the magic blow went swirling harmlessly 
over her. This dance of figures continued for a little while, 
with the figure blasting magical bolts at her and her side-
swiping, ducking and jumping. Meanwhile, her mind was working 
overtime to try and keep this figure from destroying her. Then 
she saw it.
	"It" was a sword, around two and a half feet in length. 
The blade was two feet long and made of a strange metal that 
Katze didn't recognize. The hilt was made of a material that was 
much like bicycle grip rubber and yet more of that strange metal 
done in a decorative design that made it easy to hang onto. Set 
in the center of the hilt was a stone that glowed seemingly under 
its own power. Katze picked up the sword, and admired the weight 
in her hand. She took a couple experimental swipes with the 
sword, ignoring the other figure. It was almost a mistake.
	The spell clipped Katze right in the chin, and knocked 
her to the ground. The sword clattered to the ground as well. 
Katze went chasing after it, trying to ignore her bruises. She 
grabbed at the sword, but missed. She rolled over, trying to grab 
it, and found the figure stepping on the blade. The figure raised 
his scepter one last time, preparing for the kill. Katze, in a 
panic, yanked at the sword one last time. It came loose, causing 
the figure and his weapon to go flying.
	The figure fell to the ground with a sickening thud. 
Katze spun around to attack the figure and found him lying on the 
ground, with his weapon quite a few feet away. She looked at the 
sword in her hand and did the only thing that came to mind. She 
plunged it deep into the heart of the figure. The sword stuck and 
Katze threw more strength into the sword to push it through.
	The world fell silent and the flush of triumph flooded 
through her soul. But then she watched the figure and his weapon 
just fade into mist, leaving the sword plunged deep into the 
ground. Katze put her hand to her heart in a moment of silence, 
and then pulled it away to discover her hand covered in sickly 
red blood.
	Katze blinked at the shock. Then, as the scene closed 
around her, and the world started to go black, she fell to her 
knees by the sword in the ground. She grabbed the hilt, closed 
her eyes, and prepared to die. It was just a matter of time...
	Katze awoke from a slumber in her desk chair screaming. 
As her focus cleared and she saw that she was sitting safely in 
her office and not dead, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was 
just a dream, just a dream -- but then why did it seem so real?
	There was a knock at the door. Katze looked around at the 
papers going every which way, and sighed. "Who is it?" she 
called.
	"Technician Roberts, sir. I have papers for you to sign."
	Katze groaned. Paperwork. "Come in."
	The door swung open and a lanky technician wandered into 
the room. "You are Councillor..." The tech stared at his papers 
making sure he had the right name. "...Katze?"
	Katze nodded. "Yes. Now what do you have for me to sign?"
	"An au-thor-I-say-shun for funds, and a few new ap-pli-
CAY-shuns..." The tech droned on in this voice a bit and Katze 
let her mind wander. Suddenly, she felt another presence brush 
by. She couldn't tell who it was or why it was there, but she 
decided to follow it.
	There was a sudden shock as another, neater office was 
superimposed over her view of her own office. It was almost like 
the monopoly incident except this time she couldn't let go. 
Roberts continued to drone on about form 810b or something, but 
Katze wasn't hearing him. She was too concerned with the person 
yanking her mindwise. [Leggo!] she growled at the other presence.
	[Okay, whatever you say, Katze,] came the other voice, 
and then Katze literally fell backwards into her chair. A giggle 
echoed through her head and she made a mental note to kill Ari 
the next time she saw her.
	Roberts was flabbergasted. He'd never seen anybody act 
like they'd been pushed when there was nobody in the room. He was 
beginning to think there was something strange to this whole mess 
when the door to the office swung open. Ari strode in, took the 
papers from Roberts, and pointed towards the door.
	Once Roberts was clear of the door, Ari closed it and 
looked at Katze. Katze picked up a pen and started playing with 
it, trying to avoid Ari's eyes.
	Ari looked at the pen and grinned. "You peneater," she 
said. Normally, this would cause Katze to grin and rebut the 
name. But this time, Katze stayed silent, looking at her pen and 
tapping it against a legal pad sitting on her desk. Finally, she 
said, "I'm not mad at you."
	Ari snorted. "That's a help. Care to tell me what you're 
mad about?"
	Katze shrugged. "Just a sense of impending doom."
	"This sense of impending doom wouldn't have anything to 
do with the dreams you've been having?"
	Katze looked up from the pen. "Dreams? How did you know 
about those?"
	"I was actually using Roberts to distract you so I could 
test something with you... but I got a sense of distress from 
you. I don't know how, Katze, I don't know why. All I know is 
that it happened."
	Katze nodded and started playing with the pen again.  
"It's not fun to dream your own death. But I guess I'm regulated 
to paper pushing in the Jihad, because I'm absolutely worthless 
in a fighting sense."
	Ari shrugged. "That may be so. But Katze, you've gotta be 
strong. Don't let these dreams get you down."
	Katze nodded. "I think I need to get away."
	"Yeah, get away, take a vacillation."
	"Vacation."
	"Ya, whatever. You need one. Get one of your buddies down 
in Comms to take you somewhere."
	"You know... I've always had a fascination with 
Chicago..."
	"Doesn't Cyohtee live in Chicago?"
	Katze nodded. "That's gonna work out perfectly." She 
dropped the pen on the desk and grinned at her friend. "Thanks, 
I'll get right on it."
	Ari grinned. "Not a problem. I'll see you later, before 
you leave, okay?"
	Katze nodded, but had already picked up the phone to get 
a call out to Cyohtee. "See ya, Katze," Ari said as she closed 
the door.

			~~~

	Sid paced around the great hall nervously. He was 
awaiting news that his orders had been followed to the letter, 
and he was also awaiting the arrival of his son.
	His son appeared first. The son poked his head around the 
door, making sure it was safe to enter. Sid grinned evilly. "What 
are you waiting for, Ryan?"
	Ryan shrugged and didn't say anything. He had a scowl on 
his face. "Where did you goof up this time, Ryan?" Sid asked.
	Ryan scowled even bigger. "She got into my room."
	"She WHAT!!!"
	Ryan winced as Sid's anger struck. "She did it while I 
was away pretending to be another college student."
	Sid grabbed Ryan by the shoulders and shook him. "You 
idiot! How much did she find out?"
	"Not very much, sir." Ryan decided it was a good idea to 
neglect the fact he'd left his armband on his dresser. "And I 
found out something rather interesting about her."
	Sid simmered down. "Oh?"
	"She doesn't go to Vail like she says. She's one of 
them."
	Sid pondered the implications of this remark. "Well, 
then, kill her. Not now, yesterday. And don't come back here 
until you succeed."
	Ryan nodded and scowled. He had a plan. But it had better 
work.

			~~~

	Katze unlocked the door and stepped into the foyer. A 
click in the darkness echoed through her mind and she ducked, 
immediately avoiding a laser shot. The beam would have missed 
anyway, but you never can be too safe. She looked at the 
mechanism and its crudeness, and started worrying. It had been 
intentional. But who?
	Katze decided not to worry about it and wandered back to 
her room to get a change of clothes and her Russian book. She 
decided to leave the back way.
	She gave the apartment barely a last glance as she faded 
out. That bare look was to become something symbolically greater, 
but nobody realized this at the time.

To be continued in "Trippin'"

--
[1] "The sea is down" is a reference to the days when Marraketh, 
or at least the Kyrill Empire were a force on the sea. Then a 
powerful tsunami came which wiped out the fleet, and most of 
coastal Marraketh. Marraketh never regained its sea strength, in 
fact most Marrakethians are scared of the sea.

[2] An immortal who supposedly founded the D'wani (Kyrill Empire) 
race.

[3] The Marrakethian Remote Frontier Guard [MRFG].