Evil. Be aware that, as the ruler of a hostile foreign power, your status and rights as a Rationalist citizen are superseded by your status as an alien incursive. As such, you are hereby evicted from the Rationalist Union and all its territories. We have been dispatched to escort you to the border with the Kingdoms of Evil. Any further attempts to subvert the law enforcement officials of the Rationalist Union will be met with lethal force. That is all."
"Oh Lowest Ruler of the Shadows, oh Soon-to-be Ultimate Fiend of all the Kingdoms of Evil," Mr. Skree's voice slid across Freetrick's back like a cold python. "Oh He Who Eats the Light. These quivering worms will never aid their most terrible enemy, One Such as You."
"But I'm not one such as me!" Freetrick shouted at the Proctors, "I am not some kind of evil demigod! Stop pointing that gun at me! "
Darkness seemed to flare off his skin and the crouching Proctor jerked as if splashed with cold water.
" You are ordered by all the powers of the gods of the nations of the Rationalist Union to desist immediately your attempts at incursion into the magical system of our nation." The other Proctor shouted. His free hand came up in a spell-casting gesture, glowing runes arraying themselves in the air.
Freetrick staggered, his vision darkening, the tips of his fingers tingling.
"Fiend!" came a hiss from behind him. "The blood of this monster be boiled for daring to rein the well-earned wrath of He Whose Shadow is Death, but this nation's Do-Gooder god, feeble as his power may be when matched against that of the most terrible First God of Skrea, is nevertheless strong here. Though of course this squirming supplicant would dearly love to see necromancy and word-magic pitted one against the other, tactical necessity demands a retreat."
"What?" said Freetrick, head spinning, "No. Just give me a second---"
"Free! Burning libraries, Free, where the hell have you been?"
Freetrick spun around to see Istain burst out of the dorm. "Burning libraries, Free," he said again, "have you been in your room all this time?"
"I don't know," stammered Freetrick, "Istain, something is---"
But Istain shushed him and stretched his hand out to activate his tattoos and made a call.
"Zathara," he said into his glowing palm, "Yeah, it's me."
"You there! Step away from the alien incursive!"
"What? I can't hear you." Istain brought his hand closer to his face, plugging one ear with a finger. "Someone's yelling. No. I've got Free out here in the parking lot."
"Istain!"
"What? Shut up a second, Free. No. He's been in his room since the explosion. Health services must have moved him here, I don't know! Just meet us." Istain snapped his fingers to deactivate his implants and looked at Freetrick. "Yes?"
"Istain." Freetrick tried to keep his voice level. "Istain, there are two Proctors over there who say they'll shoot me."
"We are authorized to use lethal force!"
Istain snorted. "What? They can't do that." He looked over the top of Freetrick's head at the Proctors, positively glowing now with anti-personnel spells. "Just because…" He focused back on Freetrick. "Why are you all white with black eyes?"
"I don't know."
"Why are you…smoking?"
"I don't know, Istain!" Freetrick shouted, "They want me to be the king of Skrea!"
"King of Who-now?"
"You! Step away from the incursive!" The Proctors yelled in the distance.
Freetrick turned to see Zathara running across the parking lot toward them. "Free, is that you? Free, we were so worried!"
Her arms were outspread. Words help him, she was going to hug him. Freetrick waved his hands in warning. "Stay away, Zathara! I can't touch you! Something horrible is going on—"
There was a flash of rainbow light from the combat runes of the first Proctor and a restraint cube projected across the ground to close over Zathara. She managed to catch herself before smashing into its inner wall, then rocked back, trapped.
"Bystander! You are informed that these