Disclaimer: The West Wing belongs to Aaron Sorkin and NBC. The Chronicles of Amber were written by Roger Zelazny and belong to him and the Amber Corporation. Any copyright infringements were not intended. This story was written for entertainment and not for profit.
Spoilers and Timing: This takes place sometime on The West Wing before Sam leaves and after the tenth book of the Chronicles of Amber. There are general spoilers for both.
Summary: Sam Seaborn, son of Princess Llewella of Amber, has kept his past a secret from his co-workers for many years. Then family problems change everything.
Summary #2: Deputy Communications Director Sam Seaborn, son of Princess Llewella of Amber and Rebma, is pulled abruptly out of his routine democratic life and back into family matters when his Aunt Flora contacts him, informing him of a danger that may be coming his way. Sam doesn't know what to think of this until his best friend Josh Lyman attacks him in his own house with a knife - and it all gets weirder from there.
*****
What they don't know won't hurt them. That's what I keep telling myself. Never mind the fact that the evidence speaks for itself. The President kept his medical condition a secret - look how well that turned out. He and Leo were responsible for killing Shareef, and the President's daughter, Zoey, was captured because of it. Maybe I keep hoping that the President's bad luck won't spread to me. I'm just Sam Seaborn, right? I'm the Deputy Communications Director. Sure, my job is important, but I'm pretty much a man on the sidelines. I'm not in nearly as much of the spotlight as the others. So, that means I have less chances of being hurt. I hope.
It really boils down to this: what they don't know can't hurt me. I'm not exactly thrilled about the President's Senior Staff discovering that I'm not exactly human; not in their terms, anyway. I'm not even from this shadow, this reality. Still, with the luck the administration has been having, I'm surprised none of my own enemies have shown up to settle old scores. Maybe they will; there are plenty of more years in office to go.
I am Samuel, son of Princess Llewella. I am the grandson of Oberon, the late King of Amber, and the nephew of Random, the current King of Amber. I'm not a prince of Amber, but I am a Prince of Rebma, Amber's mirror Kingdom. I am also the Earl of ___ and the Duke of ____. No one in this reality knows that I am royalty, and if everything goes smoothly, they never will.
"Hey, Sam?"
"Hmm?" I asked, snapping out of my daydream. I looked up from my desk, which I had been unconsciously staring at for - I glanced at the clock - four minutes, and into CJ Cregg's face. She had one eyebrow raised and was holding up something for my inspection. I turned my gaze to it and felt my cheeks reddening.
"I didn't know you took up Tarot reading," she commented, amused. She held my Tarot cards.
Correction: what they don't know can hurt me, 'cause it was going to take some ingenuity to explain those.
I just shrugged. "They were a gift," I said. It wasn't technically a lie. After all, my mother did give me the deck.
I held out a hand and took back the cards. I felt relieved when I once again held the deck in my hand. It was a good thing she hadn't seen the extra cards in the deck, or else I would have had a little trouble explaining the card that had my portrait on it.
I placed the cards back in their case and put them in my desk drawer. I can't believe I forgot that I'd taken them out.
She moved on to the subject of her visit to my office. I was eager to move the discussion as far away from the cards as possible and was therefore grateful to have the opportunity to throw myself into our work. It seemed CJ wanted to know if we had an answer to a question that the press was likely to ask at the next briefing. We talked about that and other things before CJ left, leaving me to work on the speech that I was applying finishing touches to. I was stuck trying to figure out a synonym for this one word that was making an entire paragraph seem awkward. Toby had stolen my thesaurus the day before, but a cursory search through his office hadn't yielded the book.
Suddenly, I felt a presence at the back of my mind. I froze, startled. First CJ, now this. I hadn't had any contact with any of my relatives for years. It looked like that, too, was about to change.
"Yes?" I asked. "Who is it?"
An image of a person formed in my mind's eye. It focused, becoming the two-dimensional image of my Aunt Flora.
She was standing in a corridor richly decorated with colorful tapestries and filled with tall windows that started at the floor and reached up to the roof. At first, I thought that she was at Amber palace, but I didn't recognize it on a closer examination.
"Sam!" she said when she saw me through the link. She looked relieved and concerned all at once.
"Flora, what is it?" I asked her, alarmed. Aunt Flora was rarely ever this distraught. Whatever was going on had to be something big.
"There's something attacking us. We don't know what. So far it's only gone after family members that are off in shadow. It's already gone after Rinaldo and Fiona."
"Are they all right?" I asked.
She nodded. "They're fine. Both were attacked at night and were unable to see their attacker. I'm afraid that you and I are next, Sam."
"Thanks for letting me know," I told her. "I'll try not to go on any night strolls."
She smiled. "It is good to see that you are doing well. Just watch yourself. I wouldn't want me favorite nephew to be harmed."
She passed her hand over the card she held in her hand, breaking the contact between the two of us. I blinked, finding myself once again alone in my office. Not that she'd been here at any point during the conversation; the Trump contacts just always made it seem that way.
Yep, you heard right; the very cards CJ had noticed weren't just for decoration. Anyone in my family could be contacted simply by regarding their trump. Every family member had a Trump done with their portrait, including myself. Aunt Flora had contacted me via a copy of my own Trump that she had in her own deck.
When I got home that night, I kept an eye out for any potential threats but encountered none. In fact, I was already up the steps to my front door when I realized anything was amiss.
Someone had jimmied the lock open, and the door had been left partially ajar. No one would have noticed it unless they were standing right in front of it like I was.
Wishing I had a weapon, it didn't matter whether it was a gun or a sword, I cautiously pushed open the door and peered around it. There was no one in the foyer. I crept inside, trying to make as little noise as possible. Unfortunately, being raised in an underwater kingdom had its disadvantages, and I wasn't as successful as I would have liked. Taking up a career as a politician certainly hadn't helped to improve my sneaking skills, either.
My efforts proved unnecessary in any case. As I searched through the house, it was obvious that whoever had been there had already left.
It left me with a lot of unanswered questions. One being, if they had enough time to jimmy the lock then leave, why didn't they close and lock the door behind themselves? Why leave the door open for me to find? Also, what were they doing there in the first place? None of my electronics or other valuables were missing. In fact, everything seemed to be in order. Unless...
I rushed to my room, pulled the chair out from my bedside table, and stood on it. I reached above me and pushed up a portion of the ceiling. The plaster ceiling was tiled; no one would be able to tell that one of the tiles was a false one just from looking up at it.
I felt around inside, located a box with my fingers, and pulled it out. I got down from the chair and placed the box on the table before opening it.
I kept some memorabilia from home in that box. Included among its contents were a shell and pearl belt that my mother had given me that was supposed to give the wearer luck in battle. There was also a case holding my spare deck of Trumps. After the amount of misfortunes my family has had with lost Trumps in the past, I thought it only prudent that I keep a spare set around.
The other items were a dagger that my Uncle Benedict had given me, a clasp for a cloak with the Royal Emblem of Rebma, another clasp with the Royal Emblem of Amber, and a couple of trinkets from my childhood that had no significance outside of personal value to me. One was a small penny-whistle type instrument that could work underwater while the other was the hook I'd used to snare my first fishing catch at the age of three.
The Trumps were still there. I fanned through them and discovered that none of them were missing. I wasn't sure if I should take that as good news or bad news. If someone from this Shadow had broken into my apartment and had found the hidden compartment, they wouldn't have considered the cards to be of much value. On the other hand, if someone with the power to walk through Shadow had come here, they would likely have their set of Trumps and wouldn't have needed extras.
None of the items were missing except for the fishing hook and the penny whistle. Okay, that was a little puzzling. Why would anyone take just those and nothing else? For that matter, why steal those two items at all? Their only value was sentimental.
I thought over Aunt Flora's warning and this recent burglary. That they were connected seemed more than a little probable. The only question was, who? Anyone could have done it, even Flora.
In fact, Flora was the only one to have warned me about the attacks. I needed to get in touch with whichever relative I thought could be believed and ask about the situation. If there really had been attacks, then I'd go from there.
There was a knock on the door. I pulled the dagger out before closing the box and replacing it in the hidden compartment. I'd find a new hiding place for it later. I tucked the dagger into my pants and went to the door. I glanced through the peephole.
Weirdly enough, it was Josh. I unlocked and opened the door. "Hi, Josh. What are you doing here?"
Like me, he was still wearing the clothes he'd worn to work that day. "I was just passing by and I was wondering it you wanted to go grab a pizza or something. I figured we could talk about that thing."
That 'thing' would, of course, refer to one of the problems with the speech I'd be working on earlier. Josh just didn't like saying so. He liked discussing work in as little words as possible. I said, "Right. Um, sure. Just let me grab my coat." I turned away from the door and reached for the coat on the coat rack.
I heard the rustle of fabric before Josh took a quickened step forward. Instincts took over and I turned, reaching up and grabbing Josh's raised arm-
-An arm that held a dirk pointed rather menacingly at me.
I was surprised to say the least. So surprised I didn't see the fist headed at me until it had connected with my face. So much for instincts.
I staggered back at the force of it, stunned. No way could Joshua Lyman have thrown a punch like that. Only an Amberite or Chaosite would have that kind of strength.
He punched me again and I saw stars. He got his knife arm free, but before he could use it I got my bearings back. He made a slash with the dirk at my stomach but I jumped back out of range before settling into a fighting stance. I removed my dagger and held it up, ready. I wasn't going to let him take me off guard again.
The next few minutes went by in a flurry of slashes, parries, and blocks. He was good, whoever he was, but he wasn't any better than I was. I knew now that he wasn't Josh, which meant only one thing: he was a shape-shifter, which meant that he was from the Courts of Chaos. I found it impossible to get under his guard, and seeing as how he was having the same luck, I could see this becoming a stalemate quickly.
We finally paused. Neither of us had even broken a sweat.
"Another time," he said. Then he took off out the door. I followed him.
I ran out into the street and glanced around, but saw no sign of anything. "Damnit!" I exclaimed. Either he was a faster runner than I had thought or someone had pulled him out of here by Trump. Either way, he was gone.
I went back inside just in time to hear the phone ring. I walked into the living room and picked it up. "Hello?"
"Hey, Sam. It's Josh. Listen, I was wondering if we could catch some pizza and talk about the thing."
It certainly sounded like Josh, but there was no way to know for certain. "Um, you know what, Josh? I'm pretty tired, so I'm going to have to pass up pizza for now. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Oh, okay. Bye, then."
He hung up.
I placed the phone back in its cradle before I began to pace the length of the room, thinking. One thing was certain: if a Chaosite was behind this, Random needed to know about it. It was time to go on vacation. Maybe I'd get some answers during my little visit back home.
*****
Everything was set. I had four days off. How I managed to get that many days is uncertain, but Toby agreed to it and that was enough for me.
"I hear you're going home to California," the President remarked to me on Friday, my last day before I would supposedly catch a connecting flight to California. We were in a meeting of the senior staff.
"That's right, sir," I said.
He nodded. "I've been thinking about visiting New Hampshire myself, maybe go out to the ranch while we work on getting me re-elected. How does that sound to everyone?"
There was a chorus of, "That sounds great, sir." I, too, chimed in. I'd often wondered what the Bartlett Ranch was like. Hopefully, whatever was going on back home would be resolved before we took a trip out there.
The unfortunate thing about alternate shadows is that the time stream flowed differently on Earth than it did in Amber. For every day that passed in Amber, two and a half days passed on Earth. I only had a day and a half in Amber to find out what was going on. Hopefully, it would be enough.
I went home early that day, supposedly to catch my flight. I pulled out my pack of trumps and debated which one to use. I finally decided on Random and pulled his card out.
I studied the King of Amber's portrait intently until I felt the card grow cold in my hands. Suddenly, the painted image changed to a three-dimensional viewing of the man. I could tell that he was somewhere in Amber Palace.
"Yes? Who is it?" he asked.
"Samuel," I replied.
His eyes homed in on mine and I knew that he could now see me. He smiled widely. "Sam! It's been a while. Did you want to come through?"
"Yes, please," I said.
"Well, alright then."
He held out a hand. I reached out and took it, then took a step forward.
Suddenly, I was there. I was no longer in my house but in Amber Palace. I could tell now that it was the Throne Room. We were the only ones there.
"So what brings you to Amber after so many years?" Random asked me.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," I replied. "Flora mentioned that some of family had been attacked by an unseen enemy."
Random nodded. "They have. It happened very recently."
"Well, it happened to me last night," I said. "Someone disguised as one of my co-workers attacked me with a dirk. We were evenly matched, though, so he ended up running for it. I tried to follow him but he'd disappeared."
"What makes you certain that he wasn't your friend?" Random asked.
"Well, Josh couldn't have fought like that, not even if he'd been possessed. I'm pretty certain it was a shape-shifter."
"That would suggest someone from the Courts," he said, frowning. "If that's the case, I'd need to get in touch with Merlin. I'd like to have some proof, however. Do you know if there's any way of getting it?"
So much for my hope of resolving everything. Oh, well. It looked like I still had a mystery on my hands.
I shrugged. "He might come after me again, but it's doubtful he'd assume the same shape. If he does come and if I can get some answers out of him, I'll let you know."
"Good."
Why didn't I tell him about my stolen keepsakes? It's complicated. I guess I was fibbing earlier when I said the fishing hook and the whistle had only sentimental reasons. Rebma may be Amber's mirror in appearance, but its people were far from it. The fishing hook was a signal of my first step to becoming a warrior, according to Rebman culture. The whistle was something much more personal. Perhaps the burglar did have reason to take those two items, but until I knew those reasons, I decided to keep that little part of my tale under wraps. They would bring undue attention to things that were better left private.
He smiled. "So, how long are you staying?"
"A day, at least," I answered. "I have to get back to my job soon."
"You still working for that law firm?"
"No, I'm currently employed as the Deputy Communications Director for the President of the United States."
He raised an eyebrow.
I clarified, "I write speeches."
He shook his head. "Only you would do something like that, Sam."
He took his leave, and I headed upstairs to my quarters. I would change into some more water-resistance clothes. Then I planned to head down Mt. Kolvir to visit Rebma, my other home.
Amber sat on top of Mt. Kolvir, a high mountain peak that was bordered on three sides by the sea. The other side led down into the Forest of Arden. I planned to go down the Great Stair, the only other way down the side of the mountain. The Great Stair led down to the beach. It was there that the stairway known as Faiella Bionin began, leading down into the depths of the ocean to the great underwater city of Rebma, Amber's physical reflection.
My mother Llewella, Princess of Amber and Rebma, was the daughter of Oberon, the late King of Amber, and Moins, the late Queen of Rebma. I was a Prince of Rebma, but I wasn't a Prince of Amber. The only other Prince of Rebma was Martin, who also happened to be Random's son. My father was a lover of Llewella's from a distant shadow. He died not long after I was born in Rebma.
I entered my quarters and crossed the bedroom to my dresser, where I pulled out a shirt, vest, pants, and cloak in my colors, dark green and navy blue. All were made of leather, coral, shells, and pearls. It had been a long time since I wore anything besides sweatshirts, jeans, or suits. It felt strange not to be wearing any cotton or polyester.
I grabbed the sword that was hanging on a hook on the wall and buckled it onto the belt I'd brought with me from Earth. Then I left my rooms and headed out of the palace.
In order to reach the Great Stair, I had to walk through Amber. It had been a very long time and it felt good to be back. I stopped at a restaurant called ___ that I remembered Random mentioning that he partially owned. I chose a seat at an outside table and heartily dug into my food.
"Excuse me, but would you be Samuel by any chance?"
I glanced up into the face of a middle-aged man. He wore native clothes, but his accent was foreign. His Thari was broken, too. I frowned as I tried to place his accent, then felt like hitting myself on the head when I placed it. He was from New York. He had to be.
Certain of myself now, I responded in English, "Yes, I am. And yourself? I don't believe we're acquainted."
He smiled in relief and held out a hand, which I shook. "I'm Bill Roth. I've done some consulting work for his Majesty."
My eyes widened as I recognized the name. "I've heard of the cases you handled in the New York courts. I had no idea that you had anything to do with Amber, though."
He smiled. "I wouldn't have if it hadn't been for Corwin and Merlin. I heard that you were a lawyer yourself. Perhaps we could…?"
"Certainly," I said. I motioned to the seat across from me. "Care for lunch? My treat."
He smiled and sat down. We talked about politics and laws, and I brought him up to speed on the latest United States legislature. He asked me what I did now, and when I replied that I was working in the White House, he seemed delighted and envious. In turn, I asked him about the latest happenings in Amber, and he did his best to fill me in. He'd retired here over a year ago, he reported, and had been living here in near luxury ever since, working only whenever Random or another Amberite needed legal advice.
I had such an enjoyable time with the man that, once we'd finished our meal, I invited him to accompany me to Rebma. His eyes literally lit up at the prospect. "I've always wanted to visit Amber's mirror," he said. "Count me in."
I laughed as we stood and headed down the street.
He studied my clothing as we headed for the archway at the top of the Great Stair, then glanced down at his own. "I have a feeling that I am not properly dressed for this."
I shrugged. "Your clothing should be none the worse for wear, just wet," I assured him.
The Great Stair was steep and long. We rested at the bottom, more for Bill than me. "I haven't had as much exercise as I've gotten since I retired here. It's been good for me," he assured me.
He glanced around, his eyes scanning the water. "So, where is the entrance to Rebma? I assume it is near here."
I nodded, my eyes also scanning the water. I finally spotted the beginning of the stairs and pointed. "There it is." I grinned. It would be good to go home.
I helped Bill to his feet and we walked across the beach, then waded into the shallows before we encountered the first stair. Then we descended them.
Soon, we were both completely under water, but we could still breathe and talk. That's just the way things were in Rebma. "Don't wander past the stairs," I advised Bill, "Or the water pressure will get you."
"Good advice," he muttered.
It was a long way down. When we finally reached the base, we stepped under the arch and into Rebma. A group of people had gathered to watch as descend, including a few guards. When they realized it was me, however, they started in surprised, then bowed and stepped back, allowing me and Bill to pass.
I glanced around and smiled. It felt really good to be home. Amber was home, too, but not in the same sense as Rebma.
Despite the fact that the buildings were exactly the same - whatever happened to Amber happened to Rebma - everything was in reverse. Rebma was Amber's mirror image; East in Amber was West in Rebma. Only the buildings reflected Amber, however; the people did not. The citizens of Rebma wore clothes made of shells, pearls, scales, coral, and seaweed. Most of their hair colors were what you'd find in Amber - brown, black, a few blondes and some red heads. The rest had green, blue, and sometimes purple hair. My own hair was actually naturally green like my mother's, as a matter of fact. I dye it on Earth. No doubt the die would wash out if I stayed here long enough.
"Come on," I said, leading the way up the street in the direction of the palace. "My mother might be here. Even if she isn't, we can still say hi to Aunt Moire."
"Moire? The Queen of Rebma?" Bill clarified.
I nodded.
He glanced around curiously as we walked. "How is all of this possible?" he finally questioned. "How can we breathe and talk underwater?"
I just shrugged. "Magic."
He smiled. "I guess that's the answer to anything about this world, isn't it?"
"Pretty much."
