Mage Barabbas stands on one of the wooden balconies of his second Tower, and his new home. His body is a strange collage of forms of many creatures, with six limbs that might charitably be called "arms", a tortoise shell back, and an insectoid head like that of a Zelak. Thanks to a state of magical hibernation and the ministrations of the College Esoterica, Barabbas is one of the oldest mortals on all Sinai, though not even the mage himself is certain just how old.

When Envoy returned to Abu Dhabi, and was greeted with fanfare that was modest by the Emir's standards but nonetheless excessive, she had hardly a chance to express her intent to visit Barabbas, before she was ushered to a place that previously had been rumored to be mere legend … and, apparently, still is, except for those within the Emir's court, and certain honored guests and subjects. If the legends are to be believed, this is but one of the many gardens hiding beneath the Emir's lands in and about Abu Dhabi.

Envoy had been taken to the lowest parts of the Emir's palace, and through a secret tunnel, and when she was led up a staircase of living wood, it was obvious enough that Barabbas had been hard at work, utilizing those magical pods from the original Tower … but only just now, upon coming out to this balcony, does she at last fully realize just where she is, and why she would be going down to see the new Tower.

"I have many things to thank you for, Mage Envoy," Barabbas clicks, absently reaching over to gently brush the fur of a bright-eyed creature that looks vaguely like a squirrel crossed with a vermite, while a grok-like living version of one of those "ruby guardians" dozes nearby, segmented tail curled around the wooden railing.

"I may have few days remaining," he continues, his antennae bobbing as he follows the flight of a pair of butterfly-winged Creens that swoop playfully by, "but I have been treated to such wonders that but for the pain in my joints, I would think myself young again."

"You're in pain?" Envoy asks, sounding a bit alarmed. "I thought you would be around for at least another decade, sir. Do you need further treatment?"

The elder mage waves a pincer in dismissal. "Your concern is heart-warming," he clacks, "but I assure you, I have had no end to treatments, by life mages and herbalists and the best physicians the Emir can command or pay. When I say 'days', I do not mean that you should worry that I draw my last breath on the morrow. And even if I did, I am beyond ancient, by Nohbakim standards, even without my magical slumber."

Envoy relaxes slightly. "Forgive me, I sometimes take things too literally. Was the information we acquired on the Zakis useful to you? I wish I could show you the Goliaths, but Ihaven't studied Illusion or Dream Magic yet."

Barabbas nods. "Yes, your information was most invaluable toward my research. I believe that you may very well have provided the missing pieces for the puzzle. These visitors were, I dare say, largely responsible for many of the species we find on our world that exhibit the characteristics I have been exploiting in my experiments."

The little squirrel-thing chatters at something, flicking its tail, then scampers off without warning. A momentthereafter, another furred squirrel-like tail can be seen flicking about, obscured by some leaves, and then the two tails go chasing each other, accompanied by excited chattering.

"Amazing," the Aeolun says, and looks out over the subterranean garden for a moment, trying to follow the antics of the … squirmites? "I hope you were able to decipher the cell samples I sent you also, since you seemed curious about my construction. And I'm at your disposal if you need to run any tests, of course, provided they aren't destructive. I also had a question about Transformation magic, which for various reasons I didn't want to ask about on Caroban."

"Certainly," Barabbas says, "you may ask of me any question, and I shall endeavor to answer it. As for the samples, I have found them … " He pauses, his antennae flicking. "Intriguing seems too over-used a word coming from me. I have had no end to intriguing things to examine now, and I find it difficult to express how utterly baffling I find your own function to be. Fascinating."

"I was wondering if it was possible to change someone's genetic makeup via Life magic," Envoy asks. "For example, changing a lion Khatta into a tiger Khatta, such that its offspring would also be tigers."

Barabbas puts a tentacle thoughtfully to his mandibles, and his antennae bob in contemplation. "Yes, I would say, but only with great reservation. The creatures I have manipulated have been so changed due to a framework already existing in their genetic structures that made such tinkering feasible. To do so with other species invites … unpleasant side effects. Further, the magical alterations required to change a person on such a level depend upon a complete receptivity of the subject to alteration. The subject will most likely experience great susceptibility to magical effects thereafter, and will have a very strong signature."

Envoy hmms, and nods. "But their offspring would not inherit the susceptibility or signature, would they?"

Barabbas continues, "That is an uncertainty. The offspring of the first generation might appear to be tigers … but somewhere down the line, there may be regression … and almost certainly a higher incidence of mutation. What is more, there would be many signs that a skilled life mage could look to, to find evidence of magical tampering in one's heritage. I have read about the Gallees and their 'pedigree' experts, and even non-mages among them are very skilled at finding signs of magical tampering in one's bloodline – though it is far efficient for them to rely upon an exhaustive system of record-keeping."

"So, it would not be practical to attempt such a transformation then," Envoy concludes. "At least not with normal magic."

Barabbas nods. "Any magical transformation of that degree would most certainly require a major ritual, and the participation of several spellcasters – or, at the very least, one mage and many trained assistants. I am certain that it has been done before, and there may very well be successes, but there are so many factors involved – there are many possible combinations of species, let alone their various characteristics, after all. It would be a more feasible but still not inconsiderable process to merely try to superficially cause features in the subject that mimic the desired special changes, though a skilled examiner would all the more readily be able to find the falsehood."

Envoy shakes her head, "Changing outward appearance wouldn't matter in this case. A friend of mine is susceptible to a particular hereditary condition, which could only be dealt with by changing her bloodline. Although relocating off-world is probably still an option. I just wanted to make sure that there wasn't a magical solution."

Barabbas quirks one antenna curiously. "What sort of hereditary condition? If that is too personal a question to ask, I will understand. It is just that some conditions are more easily dealt with than others."

"A curse," Envoy says, her own brow furrowing. "Or something to that effect. I can't be entirely sure without further research myself, but I suspect her bloodline is a major part of it. I can't really say more."

Barabbas clicks his mandibles thoughtfully. "Attempting to deal with a problem already magical in origin is another matter entirely. And it depends entirely upon the nature of this 'curse'."

"I'm not privy to all of the details," the Aeolun admits. "But it is something I keep in mind, should a solution present itself. If I can't help her, then perhaps I will find a way to help her children or grandchildren."

Barabbas nods. "As desirable as it might be to cure a problem for the long term, sometimes it is more efficient to deal with each case as the problem arises."

"It's usually easier for me to look for long-term solutions," Envoy says, and grins. "Part of my nature. The ones who created the Zakis and other species you've studiedmeant to use life-forms as mechanical components. The one who created me was looking for a short-term solution, so Idon't have all of the functions that a true life-form would. Makes me much simpler, even if some aspects seem overly complex. I thought you might be able to find something useful in the simple parts of me."

Barabbas nods. "I find evidence of vestigial features … features which suggest to me connection to processes unknown, but perhaps relating to your existence as an Exile. Did magic exist in your home world, in some form?"

Envoy nods. "I was made with and originally powered by illiaster, a kind of magic given a material form, in this case a liquid. It had a lot of structure that was particularly conducive to life processes."

"Ahhhh," the Nohbakim mage clacks. "And your body underwent some sort of metamorphosis, I take it, to better adapt to the nature of magic in this world, then. Most fascinating – adaptation to different realities."

Envoy nods again. "Illiaster isn't stable here. So it used itself up in the most practical way it could. As a result, I'm not entirely sure of how else I've been changed. A lot of my former abilities were simply converted or altered to serve more biological functions. I am no longer so adaptable, of course, but I have proven durable."

"Mmm," Barabbas comments, "I'd dare say, from what I have heard of your exploits, you have shown yourself to be quite adaptable. And that brings me to another topic I wanted to bring up. What sort of plans do you have for yourself, for the future, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"I intend to do some off-world exploration, starting with Abaddon," Envoy says, leaning against the balcony rail. "I also hope to visit Ashtoreth and Behemoth, as well as Moltpaa here on Sinai. I've heard of some very strange creatures inhabiting Moltpaa. Is there anything you'd like me to do for you while I'm away, or something you'd like before I leave?"

Barabbas nods. "Oh, I would be most interested in any notes you take of the creatures you discover, of course. But my particular concern here was that I have been considering what to do, in the case that I am unable to continue carrying out the task of caring for this zoological garden for the Emir. I have considered suggesting a successor to the Emir." He turns to look at Envoy. "It would be a considerable responsibility, but one not without rewards."

Envoy blinks in surprise. "Ah, and you'd like my help in finding a successor?"

"I was wondering if you would consider the position. Though, I will understand if you do not wish to be tied down, given your youthful adventuresome nature," Barabbas adds, with some humor.

The Aeolun's mouth drops open for a few moments. "I… I would certainly consider it, once I have regained my magical abilities. It would be an honor to study under you, after all, and I do believe that your work is valuable and should be continued. At this time though, I don't feel that I would be qualified to take over the work."

Barabbas nods solemnly. "I understand. Nonetheless, I feel obliged to you for all you've done for me, and I would like to be able to show some small token of my appreciation. If you will permit me … ?" He begins to turn away from the balcony, and back to the interior grand stairwell.

Envoy swallows her surprise and follows the elder mage.

Barabbas leads the way up the staircase, to the uppermost level of the tower. It does not fade into metal or stone as the upper levels of the original tower did – This one, rather, is almost entirely wood, though there are fixtures of chitin and other materials that have been added here or there to supplement that which is of amber. Nonetheless, there is an upper level that mirrors the original house in the center of the Himaat, though the materials are more earthy. And in the centermost room, Barabbas seems to tickle what appears to be a giant carnivorous plant-bulb, causing its vines to loosen and its "mouth" to open up, freeing up … a collection of enchanted seed pods.

"Tower seeds?" Envoy asks in hushed tones.

Barabbas nods. "Though they could be prompted into many forms." He shuffles over to one of them, and gingerly takes it up, cradling it with an extra pair of appendages. "I understand if you cannot take one with you on your adventure, but one of these is yours nonetheless. I can keep it for you until such time as you find a place to plant it. You will need help, of course – many mages – to shape it properly, but this is powerful magic, and the best gift I can think of to give you."

"Th-thank you," Envoy says, and actually has to wipe a tear from her cheek. "It is the greatest thing anyone has ever given me. I would like for it to remain in your care, of course, until I have someplace to plant it. I've never had a home of my own before, thank you."

Barabbas nods, and places the seed pod carefully back, then caresses the plant-container, which closes shut again. "I will also provide copies of my notes, so that you will have sufficient instructions, and I have some smaller test-versions that you can use to experiment with … to create a tower in miniature, first."

Envoy smiles. "Being able to practice would be very useful. And I will need a lot of practice, I think. It may take me some time to regain my skill with magic."

Barabbas nods, and pats Envoy on the shoulder with a tentacle. "I am sure you will recover from whatever setbacks you have suffered. You have helped me come back from far worse." His antennae wiggle humorously.

"You've certainly encouraged me to do so," the Aeolun says, giggling. "I don't want to disappoint you, after all."

Barabbas nods. "I do not think that will happen. Now then … have you time to stay for dinner?"

Nodding, Envoy says, "I will always have time for you, Mage Barabbas. Always."

As it turned out, the Emir was still rather taken with Envoy's performance at the Tower of Barabbas, and her request for a pass through the Gateway was granted, along with a letter from the Emir granting her accommodations at the Emir's embassy at the town built up around the Gateway Tower, until such time as the gateway can be aligned to her desired destination, to allow her through. Passage to Abaddon can be arranged almost every other day or so, but a more remote location like Morpheus is far less likely to happen without special planning.

An airship takes her most of the way across the desert, and then she meets up with a merchant caravan of sand-ships making the last leg of the journey to the town that has been built up at the edge of the Forbidden Zone housing the Gateway Tower. With a bit of bureaucracy and showing off her letters and the seals attached to them, Envoy has been granted passage to the inner settlement.

In some ways, it seems about as diverse as Rephidim in its makeup of species, though in some cases more so. Humans and Khattas (and the occasional Kattha) are in abundance, closely followed by Zerdas and Nohbakim. There are various familiar species of Sinai, but less familiar variations that look as if they must have come from the other worlds – multi-colored Hookas, humans with odd hair colors, and Savanites who could not be told as such, if not for glimpses of their spotted tails poking out from underneath heavy robes and ceremonial armor. (Surely they'll pass out from heat exhaustion once it becomes summertime, but it seems a bit cooler here in the heart of the Forbidden Zone than in the desert outside.)

Envoy has just arrived through the "tunnel" through the Black Wall, and her instructions give her directions to the Emir's embassy … as if she even needed directions, given that enough funds have been dumped into its construction that it already looks like a miniature palace with a spire that rises above most of the other structures here, making it easily found.

Once she has settled into her room at the embassy, Envoy plans out how to spend her time while waiting for her turn through the Gateway Tower. Among other things, she will probably need to convert some of her currency, and looks forward to learning more about the strange Abaddonian humans that speak a dialect similar to Bosch. She decides to ask a porter where the Kampfzengruppe gather to socialize.

A Zerda porter in a snappy red uniform and fez bows to Envoy. "Oh, the soldiers gather at the alehouse, but it would not be wise to visit them there. They only wish to see their kind at that establishment."

Envoy hmms. "Are there any places where they interact with other races then?" she asks.

"Ah, a thousand apologies, most esteemed guest of the Emir, but the Kampfzengruppe do not 'interact' with other species any more than they absolutely must. It is only with great patience that they tolerate such humble persons as the servants of the Emir."

"That is… inconvenient," the Aeolun remarks. "I don't suppose they have missionaries, or others that try to teach their beliefs to other races?"

"Oh, but they need no such thing, and I apologize many times for daring to suggest anything contrary to your supposition, most knowledgeable one, and please forgive your servant for this," the Zerda gushes, bowing several times, "but they are convinced of their superiority to all other species, and that any wise enough will realize this as well, so they have no need of teaching this to others, save by demonstration."

"Well, I'll just have to get their interest somehow," Envoy mutters. To the porter, she asks, "Do the other governments of Abaddon have embassies here?"

The Zerda bows. "Yes. The Silent-Ones are here, though they are only slightly less convinced of their own superiority to such humble servants such as myself than the Kampfzengruppe, and you may have difficulty gaining audience with them. There are also members of the Expedition, and some Titanians – but, oh, please, do not deal with them, for they have hammers, and all things to them are nails!"

"The Expedition may be my best choice to begin with then," Envoy says. "I don't suppose the Silent-Ones brought any of their Vykarins with them?"

"Oh yes," the Zerda says, nodding several times. "They are very different from our Vykarins. Not nearly so friendly and slobbery. The Expedition is mostly made up of humans and Karnors – that is, much like Jupani, except that you are pleased to not be calling them such, or they may take offense – but they are far more tolerant of such humble persons such as your servant."

"I will pay them a visit then," Envoy says. "Can you give me directions?"

"Oh yes, most esteemed guest! I shall draw you a map with my own humble attempts at scribbling, as pathetic as they might be, so that hopefully you might gain some use through them, through your wisdom, though my abilities fail to serve you as well as you deserve!" He opens a pouch and pulls out a piece of parchment, and then starts expertly drawing out a map, labeled in exquisitely rendered Khattan script.

Envoy has to shake her head slightly in amazement at how the Emirate feigns humility to hide its skills. Its ambassadors could probably sell sand to the Nohbakim.

In short order, Envoy has an entirely too detailed map, with which she could now find her way to any place worth visiting … so long as the map remains current, that is. The merchant tents tend to move around, after all. The Zerda bows again, as if profoundly thanking her for daring to take his humble map, or something eloquently self-abasing like that.

"Thank you for your aid," Envoy tells the Zerda, returning his bow. "It has been invaluable." She makes a show of carefully putting the map in a safe pocket, even though she doesn't need to carry it around after having seen it.

"Will there be anything else that your humble servant can fumblingly attempt to do for you, oh gracious magess of faraway places?" the Zerda asks.

"Wish me luck," Envoy says, smiling, and picks up her staff and cloak before leaving for the Expedition embassy.

The Expedition embassy is a far more humble affair, though it has its own charm, one might suppose. It has a number of mechanical items here and there, though not of any great complexity, and they have the look of being mass-produced, with a great deal more metal than is casually used in the construction of such things even in Chronotopia. The construction of the building is of wood that has probably come through the Gateway, rather than coming from anywhere on Sinai – Ironically, here, it is probably easier to bring things from another planet, than it is to get them across the desert. The place is decorated mostly in a combination of forest green and mahogany, with trimming of brass here and there. A lupine secretary that looks indistinguishable from a Jupani sits behind a desk, her hair pulled back in a very prim-looking bun, and attired in clothing that seems vaguely reminiscent of certain styles of Earth circa the very, very early part of its 20th century AD.

The clicking of a type-writer reaches Envoy's ears as she enters, and a bell rings as the door closes behind her. The secretary pushes back the carriage return, then looks up. "Good afternoon," she says, smiling. "Welcome to the Expedition Embassy. May I help you?"

Behind her, there is an emblem like the Star and Anchor, except that the vertical bar has been replaced by two vertical bars, running parallel to each other.

Envoy smiles to the secretary, and asks, "I was hoping to learn about any legends or stories the Expedition may have regarding unusual sites or materials found on Abaddon."

"Oh," the secretary says, still smiling. "Well! That would take some telling. Have you anything specifically in mind?"

"Not specific, per se," Envoy explains, "but anything to do with metal, or perhaps living metal would be a good start."

"Living metal?" the secretary says, mulling over this. "Well, there is plenty of metal to be found. All sorts of artifacts from the age when the Expedition first came to Abaddon. Though our scientists and technicians have diligently tried to preserve the relics of the past, there are many things that have fallen into disuse, and periods of war have unfortunately resulted in many losses. As for living metal … perhaps the Titans would qualify. They are very large walking … ah … machines, shaped like people, only much, much bigger and stronger. I understand that Sinai has its own Titans, though not quite the same."

"What about artifacts from before the Expedition?" the Aeolun asks. "Items or places discovered while exploring the planet, or while mining for metal?"

"Oh! Well, there are some wild tales about alien artifacts, and that sort of nonsense," the secretary says. "I mean, not that aliens are nonsense, of course, or we wouldn't be talking right now, but rather that there are all sorts of strange devices that violate known laws of physics. Plus … hmm … I suppose another type of 'living' machine would be a computer, don't you suppose? Ah … I suppose you might think of it as a 'thinking machine'. Something that tries to think like a living person."

Envoy grins. "I've met a few computers. What sorts of alien artifacts has the Expedition encountered?"

"Well, none have been documented save for those that are attributed to the other cultures on Abaddon," she says, "and those strange crystal structures, such as the Gateway here. We certainly can't explain that, so I suppose the notion of 'alien artifacts' isn't groundless. But there are no end to tall tales from explorers, so you might have a hard time separating fact from fiction. Truth is often strange enough, after all."

"Are these stories kept in a tower?" Envoy asks, "Or are the books merely stacked vertically?"

The secretary blinks. "A … stacked vertically?" She does not seem to comprehend the reference.

"What makes them tall then?" Envoy asks, trying to be clearer.

"Tall … Oh! Tall tales. I'm sorry, I keep forgetting that though your language is so similar to ours, some of the … ah … colorful phrases may not translate perfectly. Tall tales are tales that are … uhm … elaborated upon, creatively. Embellished. Exaggerated."

Envoy hmms. "They might still be useful though. Is it possible to visit your libraries on Abaddon? Or are these tall tales recorded in some other fashion?"

"Oh, yes, there are many libraries on Abaddon," the secretary says. "They're not open to just anyone," and as she says this, she glances to Envoy's ring, "… but members of certain respected organizations are granted access. And I do believe we have an arrangement with the College. You are a mage, yes?"

"Of the Sphere of Earth, yes," Envoy admits. "But exploration is my passion."

"Well then," the secretary says, "if you visit New Zion on Abaddon, I'm certain you would be able to gain access to the libraries with little hassle, though they might make you sign some papers first. Bureaucracy has to have its say, of course." She smiles.

Envoy nods, and says, "I've had to deal with librarians often. They tend to act as if reading a book will somehow wear it out. Will there be restrictions on how much I can read per visit, do you know?"

"Oh, certainly not," the secretary says, "though you'd be expected to put the books back, and there might be restrictions on how many you can have out at once. Can't do to have you … uhm … vertically stacking the books to the ceiling, now!" She grins.

Envoy returns the grin, figuring that a joke has been made. "I'm very good about returning books to where I find them. Is there any paperwork I need to fill out here for presentation at New Zion?"

"Oh! That's a good idea," the secretary says. "I'm sorry. Certainly. Not all of the librarians may be aware of our arrangement with the College. If you'll have a seat, I'll get some papers out for you." She gets up and goes over to a filing cabinet, and starts looking through the "Em-Ez" drawer.

Envoy sits down in a chair near the desk, and leans over to examine the odd instrument the lupine was playing when she entered.

It's a metal machine, painted black, with numerous keys with characters on them that spell out the alphabet of the Standard language, which, when depressed, cause small metal arms to go up and imprint an ink ribbon, leaving letters on the paper. The letters aren't perfectly aligned, and sometimes the letters blotch, but it's still readable, and far faster than scribing by hand (for most, that is).

After a while of examining the machine, the secretary comes back with some papers. "Please sign here, here and here." Looks like they do things in triplicate.

The papers appear to verify that the bearer is a member of the College Esoterica, and that the Expedition has an agreement with them for access to libraries. The paper seems to be to grant her access if the libraries in question are not aware of this arrangement.

Envoy smiles after reading the documents, and asks, "Do you have a pen I could use?"

"Ah yes," the wolf says, and pulls out a small stylus – an ink cartridge pen with a metal quill tip. She hands it to the Exile.

Envoy takes a moment to examine the pen, and decides it is much more practical than trying to produce ink-filled feathers. She signs each of the forms, and even prints her name below her signature in a matching font to make certain it is legible. It took her some time to learn how to sign her name in a suitably illegible manner, even if each signing looks identical.

Once finished, she returns the pen and documents to the secretary.

"Well, there you go!" the secretary says, as she takes one copy, and pulls out a leather scroll case. She marks the paper with a hand-stamp seal pressed first against a small sponge-like pad soaked in ink, and then she blows on the ink a bit, at last rolling up the paper and putting it into the scrollcase. "This should take care of everything."

She hands the scrollcase to Envoy. "Just be sure to show it when you visit one of the libraries."

Envoy pauses while securing the scrollcase, and asks somewhat incredulously, "There is more than one library?"

"Several," the secretary says. "New Zion is a city, after all," she says, as if this explains it.

The Aeolun glances again at the writing machine, and the pen with the huge ink reservoir. "Your citizens must love the written word. Have you authored many books yourself?"

The secretary giggles. "I've probably written enough documents to make one, but, no, no books of my own. Oh, maybe except for my diary, but that's not for prying eyes!"

"Many literate cultures depend on written memory, I understand," Envoy comments. "You've been most helpful… I'm sorry, but I don't know your name. I am Envoy of Lothrhyn." She offers her hand to the secretary.

"Janette Friday," she says, shaking the proffered hand. "I'm pleased to meet you."

"I will be sure to mention you if I write a book about my journey," Envoy promises, and gives Janette a bow. "Thank you for all of your help."

Janette awkwardly returns the bow. "A good day to you!"

Envoy leaves the embassy with a bit of optimism. If the embassy staff is so helpful here on an alien world, then the bureaucrats and civil servants in New Zion will surely be even more helpful!