Episode 23

The Tale of Zwm Ap Rhys

... from the Files of Hydrogen Guy

It is morning, near seven o'clock. The city of Maple Ridge is obscured by clouds and drizzling mist. Street lights cast a dismal, inadequate light on the streets, which are beginning to awaken with commuter traffic. The lights in the Usual Coffee Shop are half-lit, as the Java serfs prepare to open.

A sodden Hydrogen Guy rounds the corner and peers through the glass. A Java serf spots him, and gestures for him to come back later. Unperturbed, Hydrogen Guy tries the front door. The Java serf tries to shoo him away more insistently. Finally, he comes to the door, unlocks it, and sticks his head out.

Java Serf
We'll be open in ten minutes.

Hydrogen Guy
Can I come in now? I just want a hot chocolate.

Java Serf
Sorry, dude. Gotta wait.

Hydrogen Guy
Hey, come on, it's wet out here!

His protests fall on the closed door as the Java Serf relocks it. Grumbling, Hydrogen Guy moves under the eaves to wait. The morning shower, on top of a long night of crime-fighting, has left him craving nothing more than a creamy hot chocolate with piles of whipped cream, sprinkled chocolate shavings, and a dash of light alkaline metals.

It is his sensitive sense of smell rather than his eyes or ears that alert him to the fact he is no longer alone. A man in long, dark, water-sealed coat has joined him under the eaves. He has a large amount of untamed hair, making him look like a stereotypical composer of symphonies. He is wearing a pair of dark half-moon glasses. His hands are shoved in his coat pockets and he looks straight ahead.

Druid
Hydrogen Guy.

Hydrogen Guy
Yes?

Druid
I'm called the Druid.

Hydrogen Guy
Good for you.

Druid
I have something you might be interested in.

Hydrogen Guy
At the moment, all I'm interested in is a hot chocolate.

Druid
I had something less evanescent in mind.

Hydrogen Guy
Buddy, I don't care what you're pushing, I don't want any. Move on.

Druid
My business is keeping people informed. I have some information you may be interested in.

Hydrogen Guy sighs.

Hydrogen Guy
All right. You have until the coffee shop opens. But you're not following me inside.

Druid
Fair enough. Hydrogen Guy, have you ever heard of the Baubalieux Florilegium?

Hydrogen Guy
If you're going to try and sell me encyclopedias, I promise I will hurt you.

Druid
It's hardly the Encyclopedia Brittannica. The people who've studied it have called it the most important theosophical manuscript of the century.

Hydrogen Guy
I'm not interested in theosophy.

Druid
Twenty years ago a man in a German World War II uniform was found wandering dazed through the Breton town of Cornaix. When questioned the man said his name was Sergeant Wolfgang Jürgen Gauss, and he insisted that the year was 1942. His story was extremely strange, and he produced a manuscript to support it. He claimed that the manuscript was written by a Walter Baubalieux, a French farmer killed during the war. Both the manuscript and Gauss's story attracted the attention of French scholars, but by the time a group arrived from Rennes, Gauss had vanished, leaving the manuscript behind.

Hydrogen Guy
What was this Gauss guy's story?

Druid
I'm not authorized to tell you that.

Hydrogen Guy
You're not authorized?

Druid
I'm acting on behalf of someone else. I can only tell you what I've been told to tell you.

Hydrogen Guy
Who are you acting for?

Druid
If I knew, I couldn't tell you. Client confidentiality.

Hydrogen Guy
Fine, fine... go on. For now.

Druid
The manuscript was enough to keep the academic's attention. It was a strange combination of encyclopedia and grimoire. Many of the entries were extrapolations based on known works - these were verified as far as possible. Many others were unlike anything anyone had seen before. Many people dismissed it as a hoax, albeit a tremendous work, perpetrated by the man claiming to be Gauss. A handful of scholars took it seriously, though. Oh, and speaking of Gauss - both Wolfgang Jürgen Gauss and Walter Baubalieux were killed in the same incident, near Cornaix in 1942. An incident which the German government still considers classified, and which is connected to a large crater at the site of the former Baubalieux farm.

Hydrogen Guy
That is somewhat interesting. It can still be explained as a well-researched hoax, though.

Druid
Galactic Customs doesn't think so.

Hydrogen Guy
Oh?

Hydrogen Guy is considerably taken aback. The mention of Galactic Customs persuades him that perhaps the Druid is not just another anonymous nut.

Druid
GC raided a farm in Arizona about a month ago. They arrested several humans and agents of an alien government, and confiscated several tons of alien tech and contraband. Including a translation of the Florilegium that is not one of the four copies made from Gauss's original manuscript.

Hydrogen Guy
Why would GC care about the ravings of a nutbar?

Druid
Ask Chuck War. Or, you could read the book.

Hydrogen Guy
Ah, so here it comes. You've got a copy and want to sell it to me?

The Druid shakes his head. He pulls a plastic envelope out of his pocket and hands it to Hydrogen Guy.

Druid
No. This is a sample of the Florilegium. An article I'm told might have some relevance to you.

Hydrogen Guy takes the envelope.

Hydrogen Guy How did you get this?

Druid
That's not your problem. If you want more - or the rest of the book - I'll find a way to contact you.

He turns to leave. Hydrogen Guy tries to think of a suitable closing remark, but fails.

He is distracted by the sound of the Java Serf unlocking and opening the door. When he looks back, Druid is nowhere to be seen.

Hydrogen Guy walks into the coffee shop, orders a hot chocolate, and starts to read.

Zwm ap Rhys

See also - Book of Crows; Avatars; Knights, Early British; Cocktail, Cranberry

 

In the year 613, an itinerant knight came to a small cloister of monks in the forest south of the village of Cornaix, on the Breton coast of France [See also - Dwarfin Groundhog]. He was suffering from a rash of minor injuries, sustained, he said, in a duel with a highwayman whose reach he had under-estimated. He was invited to have his wounds treated, and was given a meal and lodging for the night. The name he gave was Zwm ap Rhys. That evening he regaled the monks with a series of fantastic stories, which were later written down by a young brother named Constan in a manuscript now known as the Cornaix Book (Livre de Cornaix - more commonly known as the Book of Crows, Livre des Corneilles, due to a mis-copy in the 11th century.)

He was known by reputation to the brothers there, if not by sight. Accounts independent of the Book of Crows suggest he was a minor local hero, known for battling outlaws and defending villages from bands of marauders. He was also regarded as an eccentric. Villagers told of sighting him galloping through fields in great haste; when questioned, he would reply he was in pursuit of his nemesis, the "Parsley King", who must be stopped lest some dire fortune befall decent, God-fearing people. But because of his good works, his madness was tolerated.

At the time Zwm ap Rhys visited the monks of Cornaix, he claimed his age was nearly eight score of years, although he looked to be a man of two score and ten. The source of his unnatural longevity, he confessed, was unknown to him; but he assured his pious hosts that there was nothing unholy about it.

He was born near the site of present day Shrewsbury, England, in AD 453. He was son of a moderately wealthy father, Rhys ap Rhys. He was, in fact, the termination of a long line of Rhys ap Rhys's dating back nearly two centuries. His father, he said, went out of his way to break with tradition, taking the name Zwm from his neighbor's goat.

At the age of 14, he was apprenticed to a somewhat disreputable friend of his father's, Gwern Gordon-slayer. Zwm explains that, at the time, Britain was suffering from a plague of giant spiders called Gordon, which had been called down upon the country from the stars by a band of priests disgruntled [See also - Postal Workers] by the people's turning their backs on certain old religions. It was a terrible plague, for Gordon carried off livestock and babies, destroyed crops, leered disgustingly at young women, and loped along far too slowly in the fast lane. Fortunately for the Nation, unemployed knights were in no short supply, and the task of ridding the country of Gordon fell to them.

Gwern was one of these, and he was quite good at his job. Zwm, however, was excelled at it as no man had before. Once he had been shown the ways of the trade, it was impossible for him to call Zwm his apprentice. The many skills he excelled at included swordsmanship, lancing, use of the crossbow, rope-handling, riding a variety of animals, and the engineering of war. This last was especially crucial; Gordon were not stupid, and elaborate battle plans and machinery were often required to defeat them.

Gwern and Zwm's adventures carried on for ten years, and they acquired the reputation of being by far the best Gordon-slayers in the land (mostly through the deeds of Zwm). At long last, all the Gordon were purged, save for one -- the Queen Gordon, who had fouled the city of Camelod and claimed it as her personal lair.

A meeting of the Gordon-slayer's Guild was called, and Zwm was chosen by unanimous acclaim to slay the Queen. As honours went, this was questionable. Zwm was hated and envied by the other Guild members (or so Zwm told the monks of Cornaix). If Zwm killed the Queen Gordon, the Guild could try him for depriving them of business. On the other hand, if the Queen Gordon killed Zwm (which was thought to be by far the most likely outcome), then they would be rid of Zwm for good, and could turn the slaying of the Queen into a long, expensive campaign at the King's expense which would make them all very rich. It is shameful to note that Gwern, who for ten years had been Zwm's partner, was behind this plan, for he burned with jealousy over the talents of his former apprentice.

Zwm accepted the assignment regardless. He took all his armour, weapons and machinery and went to Camelod, and there met the Queen Gordon in battle. It was, to this very day, the most thunderous battle between man and monster ever seen on this world, and on many others as well. Zwm ap Rhys and the Queen Gordon fought from dawn till dusk, for more than a year, with only short stops for supper every few weeks. In the course of the conflict, the entire city of Camelod was flattened and rebuilt four times. Finally, Zwm managed to bind all sixteen of the Queen's legs and ram a cathedral down her throat, and that was the end of it.

When the battle was over, Zwm used his skills in engineering to assist with the final reconstruction of Camelod. From that time until the city's fall to Saxon invaders, Camelod was the most beautiful city in Europe. Zwm attended the investiture of the newly crowned High King of Britain, Arthur Pendragon, who thereafter made Camelod his capital. Arthur made Zwm a Paladin of the Realm, and offered him a place at his Round Table. However, the residents of the city wanted Zwm nowhere near Camelod for a very long time, so he declined. Exhausted, he retreated to the Cornish seaside.

Later that day, Hydrogen Guy and Deuterium Boy sit in the lounge of the Hydrogen Cave. The pages from the Florilegium sit on the table in front of Hydrogen Guy.

Deuterium Boy
That's the most preposterous thing I've ever heard.

Hydrogen Guy
But this book he keeps talking about, the Book of Crows or Cornaix Book, really exists. I checked with some people at the university, and it's well known, if kind of rare. It's considered one of the more outlandish texts at the fringe of Arthurian legend.

Deuterium Boy
I can see why.

Hydrogen Guy
Nothing about a plague of spiders from space or knights tossing cathedrals around is seen in any other text, of course. Professor Akeley told me that the vineyards of Cornaix were frequently afflicted with a variety of mold that had some mild hallucinogenic properties that were often transferred to the wine.

Deuterium Boy
So the Book of Crows is just a bunch of monks on a bad trip.

Hydrogen Guy
There are some camps that consider that a definite possibility.

Hydrogen Guy continues reading.

It was there that he spent five years in spiritual contemplation, sitting on the same west-facing rock on the Cornish shore for the full duration. According to Zwm, the Sun set in the east for a full week, because it was tired of seeing him make faces at the sea lions each night.

At the end of the fifth year, just as the sun was setting (assumedly in the west), Zwm had a Tremendous Vision. The sea and the shores of Cornwall vanished, and he found he was standing on a high plateau in the center of a vast desert. At the very edge of the desert was an enormous tree, unlike any Zwm had ever seen. Turning, he found a monk seated in the center of the plateau, contemplating an elaborate many layered game board.

The monk greeted Zwm ap Rhys by name, and introduced himself, as an astrophysicist and Zen Master from a distant world unknown to man. Zwm could not recall, or perhaps pronounce, the Master's name. (After much discussion, the monks decided that the holy vision could only have been the Apostle Paul.) Zwm was invited to share some strong cheese, and to play the game which lay before the Master. Zwm asked what manner of game this was; he was told it was called Ty'ghel-Vbijiel-Na [See also - Religions, Jelvan].

They began to play; Zwm found the game extremely confusing, and was unsure what had happened when he reached the final square on the highest level of the board. The Master told him this was Enlightenment (or perhaps, recalls Zwm, he simply said this was some mighty good cheese; he had quite a heavy accent). He pointed to the tree in the distance, and said that if Zwm went to it, he would find a Weapon of Great Power. With these words, the Vision ended.

It would be very easy to dismiss all of Zwm ap Rhys' stories, as related to us by Constan in the Book of Crows, as the ravings of, say, a mad leather merchant who thought he was Hercules. Many are very tempted to do just this. But this is made impossible by one solid, historical fact that makes us take them seriously: Zwm ap Rhys carried the Ruler of Elendil.

This was not, it is believed, the same Ruler of Elendil we know today [See also - Ruler of Elendil], although the modern Ruler was fashioned partly from this earlier version. It was made of Abyssinian steel, and was three cubits long with a weighty bulge at one end. This allowed it to be used as a mace in its natural mode. At the base it had seven buttons, six blue and one red, which magically transformed the Ruler into a flaming sword, a spear, a battle-axe, and several other tools that Zwm admitted he had forgotten. The monks were naturally skeptical, and so Zwm demonstrated the battle-axe function and cleaved open a cask of wine. This convinced them of the Ruler's authenticity. (It is wise that he chose the battle-axe; monks are known to become apoplectic around flaming swords.)

The aforementioned independent accounts also mention the Ruler of Elendil, and their descriptions of it and its powers match Constan's. It is also speculated that this is the same Ruler used by Euclid in constructing several geometric proofs [See also - Lore, Geometric]. No record exists of what happened to the Ruler after Zwm's death. However, Blaise Pascal writes that in 1654, a gypsy in a Parisian market sold him a three-gram bag of steel shavings, which he claimed were made of the "mace of Zwm ap Rhys". Pascal discounted any mystical attachment to the material, and used the shavings to fashion the blade of his own 40 cm ruler, the modern Ruler of Elendil formerly housed in the University of Berlin and which has now been taken to America by the relativist Albert Einstein.

Hydrogen Guy
He's right... that does make it harder to dismiss.

Deuterium Boy
By the Six Patriarch's sandals, Hydrogen Guy! What does it mean?

Hydrogen Guy
Well, if this is true, we've leaned about a previously unknown stage in the Ruler's history. And I'm going to have to try and learn that battle-axe trick.

He looks over at Doug the rubber skeleton, who is draped over the arm of the couch.

Hydrogen Guy
Apostle Paul, huh?

Doug
*gurgle*

Hydrogen Guy
We'll discuss that later.

Deuterium Boy
Keep reading.

Zwm then returned to Camelod, where King Arthur twice more offered him a seat at the Round Table, and Zwm twice more declined. He simply could not see, he said, the point in chasing all over the country in search of some blessed piece of dinner ware [See also - Fisher King]. Instead, he embarked on a series of his own quests (all spectacular failures in their own rights - Zwm claimed that it was only through failure that one earned Glory in the eye of God), funded by his considerable skill in engineering, which he hired out to parties in need.

Zwm was responsible for constructing some truly unique war machines. Some of his designs survive, and were for many years believed to be the work of Leonardo Da Vinci [See also - Secret Life of Attack Helicopters, The]. Da Vinci, however, copied them from a text by Bede on Celtic war engines, who had taken them from Zwm's own notes. Most notable among these designs are plans for a one-handed, belt-fed crossbow which could fire up to fifteen bolts per second. It is unrecorded as to whether this weapon was ever built.

Zwm also told stories of several times when he was forced to interrupt his quests to save Britain from otherworldly threats. He considered these missions a weary burden, as they were generally successful and distracted from the his more laudable failures. Yet he undertook them for the good of the Realm. For instance, there was attempt by the Trolls of Spumsby-on-Tythswash to sack London, and the faerie king Alberon's brief flirtation with fusion weaponry. Most notable, however, was his pursuit of the elf Taziban, who had stolen the four Keys of Merlyn [See also - Unified Field Theories].

The Great Wizard Merlyn had numerous caches of Ancient Republic texts scattered across Britain. Merlyn, by hurling himself aeons into the future, was one of the few Bards of the Ancient Republic to escape its destruction. Taziban discovered one of these caches, and learned from the texts how to use the Keys. He hired a band of glimmer imps to enter into Merlyn's Precinct by stealth and steal the Keys. This the imps did, and upon returning the Keys to Taziban, he killed them and escaped with the treasure.

Hydrogen Guy
Interesting.

Deuterium Boy
What?

Hydrogen Guy
In my battle with Hans-Raoul, he babbled something about killing, quote, "the last Hydrogen Elemental of the Ancient Republic", unquote, two million years ago.

Deuterium Boy
Two million years? He looks good for his age... It's also interesting that the article makes references to fusion weaponry and unified field theories, which Walter Baubalieux couldn't have known anything about in 1942.

Hydrogen Guy
Unless (a) he had access to alien technical knowledge...

Deuterium Boy
Would explain why Galactic Customs was interested in the book.

Hydrogen Guy
... or (b) the Florilegium was written by somebody posing as Wolfgang Jürgen Gauss twenty years ago.

Deuterium Boy
But if it's a fraud, how would the author know so much about the Ruler of Elendil, or Hans-Raoul's "Ancient Republic"?

Hydrogen Guy
Who knows. We know one thing; this book's insane. We just don't know if we should believe it or not.

Merlyn discovered the theft of the keys, and the decaying bodies of the imps, and was able to deduce that Taziban was responsible. He sent a warning to Zwm ap Rhys through the Ruler of Elendil that, should Taziban learn to fully control the Keys, he would be able to re-unite the four forces of matter in a Grand Unification Spell.

Zwm traveled from Camelod to Peradinium, the city which lies between the mortal lands and the lands of faerie. It is an ancient city, founded by man, but which now lies wholly in the Other Realm; and in its time on Earth, attracted the most dangerous elements of both mortal and everlasting; it was a hive of scum and villainy. Zwm ap Rhys learned that Taziban was hiding as a blacksmith, waiting for the correct alignment of stars to begin his dark business.

Zwm went to the smithy and told the disguised Taziban to make him a shoe for his horse; but the metal must be of the finest quality. Taziban presented one piece of iron to him after another, but always Zwm replied, "Surely you have better than this? This is the finest horse of any alive or dead!"

As Taziban brought out all the metals in his possession, Zwm noticed one piece of rusted scrap that the smith was always careful to pass over. Zwm accused the smith of holding back on him; he pointed to the rusted scrap and demanded that Taziban show it to him. The smith protested, but the knight insisted. Finally, Taziban reluctantly brought the rusted iron for Zwm to inspect. As he held it out to Zwm, Zwm struck it with the Ruler of Elendil, shattering the illusion that Taziban had placed on the Keys of Merlyn. Taziban's own disguise was also broken, and he fled the smithy with the Keys.

Zwm chased the dark elf day and night, across Isle to the coast of the North Sea. Taziban had a long boat waiting, and set off for Norway. When Zwm discovered Taziban had taken to the water, he transformed the Ruler of Elendil into a kayak and followed.

Taziban landed in Norway, and there encountered a settlement of dwarves. He deceived the dwarves into believing that Zwm was trying to wrest the Keys from him in order to take them and enslave the world, thus convincing them that Zwm ap Rhys was their enemy. When Zwm arrived, he was attacked by the dwarves, and as the battle waged Taziban slipped through a faerie gate into Asgard. Zwm defeated the dwarf chieftain Krakka in a spectacular axe duel, and was able to convince him that Taziban had lied. Krakka was furious and demanded vengeance on the hide of Taziban. Together, they followed Taziban into Asgard.

Zwm and Krakka tracked Taziban through the wastelands and met him at the edge of Hvergilmir, the Well of Chaos. The stars being different in Asgard, Taziban had begun the Grand Unification Spell. As Taziban was chanting, Zwm seized three of the Keys. They grappled at the edge of the well for the final Key, the Key of Gravitation; Taziban would not release his grip, and Zwm refused to yield. As they fought, Krakka came up behind Taziban and impaled him through the back with his spear. The elf tumbled into the churning waters of Hvergilmir, ripping the fourth Key from the key-ring and breaking the Grand Unification Spell. Both Taziban and the fourth Key were lost for eternity.

Zwm returned to Britain and restored the three remaining keys to Merlyn; however, with the Key of Gravity lost, the four forces could never again be united by a single field theory. Merlyn was furious with him, and banished Zwm ap Rhys from the Isles of Britain forever. A few short years later saw the fall of Arthur Pendragon and the Kingdom of Britain to the Anglo-Saxons.

Hydrogen Guy
Stephen Hawking will be disappointed.

Deuterium Boy
I think he knows that the Anglo-Saxons won.

Hydrogen Guy
No, I mean about the unified field theory.

Deuterium Boy
I won't mention it if you won't.

Hydrogen Guy
He doesn't answer my e-mail since I subscribed him to a quantum chemistry mailing list, anyway. No sense of humour, that man.

They sat in silence, mulling over the strange story in the Baubalieux Florilegium fragment. Glancing at Doug, Deuterium Boy thought something was amiss with the rubber skeleton. Then he realized, his smile was a trifle more ghastly than usual. Deuterium Boy suppressed a shudder.

Deuterium Boy
So what do you think, HG?

Hydrogen Guy
I think there are more things on Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in our philosophies, DB.

Deuterium Boy
I mean, should we try to get ahold of the entire Florilegium?

Hydrogen Guy
I don't think so, not yet. Somebody wants us to know more about certain things than we do now, and I think that before we embark on such a program we should find out who. Doug?

Doug
*gurgle*

Deuterium Boy
"Reply Hazy, Try Again."

Hydrogen Guy
Indeed. Hey, isn't it time for "Iron Chef"?

Deuterium Boy
Good call, HG.

As Deuterium Boy starts hunting for the TV remote, Hydrogen Guy gathers up the pages of the Florilegium and drops them in a nearby magazine rack.

The true nature of the cosmos will have to wait.

Shortly after services the next morning, Zwm ap Rhys prepared to leave the monastery. As he climbed on his horse, Constan asked him, "Of the wondrous stories you told to us, what number are true?"

Zwm ap Rhys paused, and Constan reports that a shadow fell across his face. "Many of them were true, once," the knight replied, "but now, I do not know." He said his good-byes to the monks and departed; and they did not hear of him again.