The first thing I did was, of course, to go obsess.

Type some keywords into Google to find out how to make a simulacrum and the three main thematic topics seem to be regarding “artificial” intelligence, religion, and gaming.  (I put the word “artificial” in scare quotes because I’m one of the people who side on the opinion that intelligence is intelligence, mostly because I generally hold the idea that creation doesn’t just have to be a frothy flesh conundrum.  Of course, recent arguments against in-vitro fertilization just seem to be a new form of bigotry to me, too.  You know, we really don’t have to make anyone else in the world feel like they’re subhuman.  Unless they’re a Nazi.  Those are apparently still fair game.)

The old school version has to do with mandrake roots, calling demons, and making your homunculus sweat it out.  I don’t know all the details.  I do know that I had never seen anyone but Doloise do it with so little preparation without it being an illusion or shadow.  (A shadow is a version of you, usually fueled by something you leave behind in it… kind of avatar-like as well.  They’re hard to explain, but they make sense magically, and most things written down to “ghost activity” is related to shadows instead.  Death being a traumatic event, usually some guilt is left behind.  I’ve heard of pornographic shadows, too, but I’m trying to get rid of the -cubi influence.)

I stopped reading for a moment and tried to think through it.    Out came the notepad and pen.

1.  I did not want to make Rohana unhappy.

This was important.  I circled it and then underlined it a couple of times.

1-Counter: I was in potential danger.

Alright, that seemed fair enough.  Presuming she didn’t want me to be hurt, and that would make both of us unhappy, I had my reason for pursuing this.    How was I in danger?  I would have to explain that.  Well, because a Small thing told me so.  Kind of like hearing it from a Little bird.

Could I trust that Small sense? I had a Little feeling, sure, but that’s easy enough to produce an illusion for, I guess.  (Subtle, though.)  (I’d have to suggest that for my secondary character when my GM got back into town.)  (“I’d like to give them the feeling that this was the right way to go, the right thing to do.”)

2. Do not refer to this as “the Clone Wars.”

I knew as soon as I typed that in that it would be stuck in my head that way.  There may be things in life that don’t make Star Wars references, but I was probably unfamiliar with them.  Maybe some kind of naval reference? No, they have ships. Dog training? Hah!  Refrigeration repair?  Locksmithing?

(“Lovely bit of clerk.”)

So, it was at least posited by Master Small that my simulacrum turned into a host for the Shadow King.   I remember that Doloise had dismissed it when we got back from the haunted house, but I had been practically sick with fatigue at that point.  I just knew it wasn’t around after she did something with it, but she could have turned it into a pancake flipper and I would have maybe grunted, “Neat.”   Besides, it implied far more concern with cause and effect than I had any reason to believe Doloise had at that point.

3. Doloise had grown.

That wasn’t on the list of things I had to consider, was it?  I mean, with what she was, I don’t think considering her as an individual was entirely fair, but I had seen change.

I typed the words, “I think she died free,” and then erased everything.  That hadn’t been my real focus, after all.

Fine.  Let’s go back a step.  Who were the players?

There was the Witch War.  I was reluctantly forced to say I was involved just because I knew some of the witches, but I was going to stay out of it as much as possible.  If they started calling up things from Beyond, I was kicking doors closed whenever and wherever needed.  Well, needed and if I could find them.  That meant the Shadow King and the Messenger were involved.  Fine.  They had some kind of deal and until I could get rid of the karmic vulture or whatnot (I’d heard of dogma, but that was man’s best friend) I was stuck worrying about the Shadow King’s propensity to be near me and mine.

Oh, and Peredur wanted something from me.  He wanted to make me a wizard, as far as I could guess.  He wanted to change me, and that was enough.  I didn’t know why he would meddle, but I got his attention.  This wasn’t anything about Naul or the Red Poets, I was pretty sure.  And I was supposed to come up with a good Small favor.

The phrase caused me to snort in laughter.

The phone rang.  It was Ed.

“Hey-a,” I answered.

“I’m on lunch.  Why did you have the police call and interrogate me?”

“Is it lunch already? I needed to prove I was where I said I was.”

“And you were. It was weird.  I’ve talked to cops before, and this was like talking to robots.  I mean, I thought it was only the FBI that did not have a sense of humor, at least according to Men in Black.”

“Or simulacra.”

“Isn’t that a kind of baby formula?”

“Uh, no.”  I had a wild Soylent Green thought for a moment, and then shook my head.  “Means clones. They beat you up verbally or anything?”

“Nah, ‘sall good.  Asked if you were abusive and hated women.”

“You told them `Yes,’ right?”

“Of course I did.  You’re practically Jack the Ripper.”

“If I told you that they killed Sylvia, only it wasn’t really her, but a clone, what would you think?”

“I’d think that the stress had finally done you in,” he said after a moment.  “Sylvia?  Is that who it was about?”

“Uh.  Yeah.  They never mentioned her?”

“She’s dead?”

“That’s under investigation.”

“You move fast.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d seen me in the hospital?”

“Oh.  That.  Well…”

“Yeah, that.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel bad.  I know, it’s dumb, but there hadn’t been anything I could do except fill out some forms.”  He sighed.  “So I told them if you’d turned for the worst to call, but Maggie was there giving me the frigid shoulder.  I told them to stop trying to call your mom.”

“Thanks,” I said.  “I’ll need your side of the story, sometime.”

“Hey.  That reminds me.  What do I need to know about dating Matana?”

“She’s a vampire.”

“Yeah.  Do I wear a garlic aftershave?”

“She’s a vampire.”

“Got that.  It’s not a date-date, it’s a scientific lecture thing.  Crosses?  Silver?”

“She’s a vampire.”

“Obsess much, E?”