“The Sorceress gave us all a tour of this magnificent place,” Lord Kanset told us, as we tied the horses. “I found it fascinating. Most of my men were frightened. We’ve long known about this cave but had little idea what wonders were beyond the door. There is a lot of legend and superstition surrounding it,” he explained. “Now that it’s open, and it isn’t full of goblins or giants or ancient spirits, I suppose those legends can fade. But what I’ve seen has been wonderous,” he admitted. “Far more impressive than the legends suggested.”
“The price of knowledge,” chuckled Fondaras. “I’ve been curious about it, myself. I look forward to seeing what our ancestors have wrought, so far from civilization, and what brought them here in the first place.”
“Curiosity,” I answered. “And caution. This place was a potential danger to the colony. They took steps to monitor it from here, to alert the rest of the colony if an eruption was imminent. And they liked the natural beauty of the place, and the unusual plants and animals, according to Forseti.”
“Ah. Yes. Forseti,” sighed Lord Kanset. “We’ve had some very interesting conversations. I am unsure I understand them all, but they were interesting. And somewhat informative. Indeed, the thing wishes to speak with you at length, it says. It has learned things. Things perhaps a wizard would understand better than a mere lordling. I don’t think it has a terribly high opinion of me,” he said, sorrowfully.
“Forseti has a unique way of looking at things,” I explained. “From his perspective, he is responsible for seeing that the human colony on Callidore is viable, prosperous, and well taken care of. He’s a bit alarmed by the fallen state he’s seen us in. As charming as you might be, Kanset, to him you’re just a small regional official of a marginal settlement. I’m sure that after he learned what he needed to know from you, he had little further use for your insights.”
“Well, at least he’s polite about it,” Lord Kanset admitted. “My sister just usually calls me an idiot and stomps off.”
“Where is your sister?” Alya asked. “Has she reported in?”
“Tandine does not see the need to report to me,” he grinned. “She has been anxious about our father’s care, however. Thankfully, Lady Ithalia has kept the Sorceress informed of their efforts to track those gurvani across the land. From what I understand, they’ve had limited success. But they will report about that themselves this evening when they arrive.”
“They’re coming here?” I asked, surprised.
“That was their plan,” agreed the young lord, as we entered the cave. “There was apparently an encounter, but they were lamentably thin with the details. I expect we’ll hear about it at dinner, tonight. Ah! The ancient wains,” he said, as we came to the Ancient’s carriage house. He put his hand reverently on one of the two vehicles that had been stored there. “I am fascinated how such large and heavy wagons are able to be moved without oxen or horses. But after all the other wonders of this cavern, I suppose that’s a trivial thing for our ancestors to have achieved.”
“They are incredible!” Fondaras agreed, as he stared at the two big vehicles. “All metal! Six wheels! And not even a place to attach a harness if you wanted to! It’s like Forseti’s little carriage, grown large!”
“The Sorceress thinks that they might be made to move again, someday,” agreed Lord Kanset. “She says they are intact, but will require some maintenance to activate. I would love to see them move!”
“It will be a short trip, with that bloody great boulder blocking the path,” I sighed, regretfully. “I could remove it with a spell, if magic worked. Without it . . . well, perhaps a gang of Kilnusk could be persuaded to move it, but I’m not up to it, myself. But you are right: the vehicles are the least of the interesting things in this cave. You said Forseti wanted to speak with me?”
“At length,” agreed Kanset. “Indeed, he wants to address us all about some matter, tonight. But he wished to speak with you at once.” He led us back to the stark room where the ancient intelligence was now nesting. “I’ll leave you two alone, while I show your lady wife and Master Fondaras around the place.”
“Minalan, you have returned,” Forseti’s voice observed when I entered the little room.
“I have,” I agreed, setting my rifle near the door. “It was an eventful exploration. The folk of Anghysbel are varied and interesting.”
“I look forward to a full accounting,” the machine agreed. “I, myself, have made considerable progress about re-establishing control over the facility and its peripheral instruments. I have learned a great deal in the process.”
“We were just having a discussion about the price of knowledge,” I informed him. “What cost did yours come at?”
“Hope, among others,” Forseti reported, in a rare display of something akin to emotion. “I have established from what records I can access that the primary colony on Perwyn is, indeed, destroyed.”
“That was a matter of historical record for nearly seven hundred years,” I reminded him.
“Yes, but this was the first confirmation I received of that fact. Though I have yet to be able to establish communication with the Calsat constellation, this station received updates from high-orbit weather satellites for years before it went dormant. The imaging clearly demonstrates that the island is no longer there. It appears that, as your records have reported, Perwyn was attempting an engineering project that led to the sinking of the island. I can find no other plausible cause of the disaster.”
“I do hope that’s not the only thing you have learned,” I said, dryly. “We knew Perwyn was sunk, already.”
“Of course. I merely confirmed it. However, I have re-established control over more than ninety remote sensing devices placed by your ancestors throughout the caldera and evaluated the accumulated data over the last few centuries. In doing so, I’ve learned something alarming that I need to report to you: according to the most recent readings, considered in context with the data pool this station has archived, I conclude that there is a disturbing build-up of geophysical pressure in the active zone of the caldera.”
“Which means . . . ?” I prompted.
“If the data and the analysis of the situation is correct, then there will likely be an explosive release within the next eighteen months.”
“An explosive release?” I asked, skeptically.
“Yes. The station’s sensors indicate that the activity in the active eastern portion of the caldera has led to a dramatic increase in pressure on two distinct magma systems. The first is feeding the currently active volcano known as ‘Chimney Mountain,’ referred to in the colonial records as ‘Mt. Hutton,’ named for the 17th century Scottish geologist who founded much of the science of geology and vulcanology on Earth. The increase in activity suggests that there will be a more active eruption when the pressure of the magma reaches a critical point in approximately three years. The analysis predicts a four-to-six-week ejection of ash and pumice.”
“But you said eighteen months,” I said, confused.
“The second system is fueling the activity in the geyser field the residents refer to as the Plain of Pillars, but which was referred to on colonial maps as the ‘Currituck Colonial Hydrogeological Park,’ named after a Colonial Terraformation Authority official responsible for exploring it first. According to the sensor analysis, there is a very large pocket of gas building that will result in an explosive pyroclastic flow in approximately eighteen months.
“The explosion will send a cloud of heated acidic gas, between 250 degrees and 450 degrees, into the caldera sufficient to instantly kill all unprotected life. While there appear to be certain native flora and fauna that may endure and survive that outflow of gasses, all Terran-derived life and a significant portion of native species will likely be exterminated in the process. The effect will likely be concentrated in the eastern caldera, which is lower in elevation than the western portions.”
Forseti helpfully displayed a map on the screen and turned the projected effected a
rea a foreboding shade of red. It included every bit of human, Tal Alon and Kilnusk territory.
“Dear gods!” I whispered, as the implications of the machine’s prediction were demonstrated on the map. “They’ll all be killed!” The thought of Anferny, the Kasari camp, merry Lakeshire, and even the Kilnusk exiles all being wiped out in an instant filled my imagination with dread. Then he began his litany of doom.
“The heat of the gas, alone, will be sufficient to suffocate all mammalian species within the first thirty minutes,” Forseti predicted, its tone unchanged from normal despite the horrific nature of its report. “Normal aquatic species will survive up to two days after the eruption before the deoxygenation of the local atmosphere affects the oxygen concentration in the water.
“Before that, however, the extreme acidity of the pyroclastic flow will have poisoned the biochemistry of the water. Both native and imported amphibians and reptiles will die within the first day. Most insect species, both native and imported, will take significant loss, though some in dormant phases or encysted and hidden species might survive the eruption. Plant species of all varieties will be severely damaged, though select species that have evolved locally may actually thrive under those conditions,” he pointed out. As if that was a positive perspective.
“You mean to tell me that every man, woman, and child – that every living thing – in Anghysbel will be slaughtered by this? What can we do?”
“Without advanced terraformation and geoengineering equipment, there is no way to actively affect the geophysical course of events,” Forseti reported. “Even with such equipment and specialized engineering intelligences planning the effort, it is unlikely that the eruption event could be halted. By comparison, raising the seabed in Perwyn would be a relatively simple task.”
“Yes, and see how we mucked that one up,” I nodded to myself.
“The best course of colonial administration is the declaration of a disaster and the orderly evacuation of the settlement to a more secure location. The good news,” Forseti said, without a trace of irony in his artificial voice, “is that conditions should stabilize within two years of Mt. Hutton’s eruptions to allow limited resettlement in the region.”
“Yes, I’m sure that will be a great solace to the ten thousand people who live here. More than ten thousand,” I realized, as the populations of the Alon entered into my mental equation. “If they even believe me.”
“Why would they not believe you?” Forseti inquired. “Are you not the recognized colonial authority in the region?”
“On parchment,” I agreed. “But your own knowledge of human history should demonstrate how mistrustful of authority humanity can be. Not to mention willing to ignore any dire prophecies they don’t like. There were still people clinging to the peaks of Perwyn, when it sank, because they were unwilling to accept the predictions of the magi. For all I know, their descendants are still there,” I observed, discouraged. “How can I inform these people that they need to leave the lives they have built because of what some ancient machine told me? They just met me, godsdamnit, and they’re just getting used to the idea of a wizard as their liege! Now you want me to upend their lives?”
“The alternative is their extermination. Considering the primitive nature of the culture, it is, indeed, a challenge of your leadership abilities,” conceded Forseti. “I suggest a combination of exercised executive authority, financial incentive, and reasoned persuasion,” he suggested, unhelpfully.
“I don’t even have authority over the Tal Alon and the Kilnusk! And if the Kasari didn’t listen to me, what could I do about it?” I groaned.
“I suggest that you discuss it with your advisors and formulate a plan for evacuation and outreach to the aboriginal communities to persuade them to do the same. I could be of more assistance if I had more knowledge of the population, settlement density, and resources available.”
“Sure, sure, I’ll have Gareth catch you up on our observations. He’s not Festaran, but he’s a keen observer and pretty fair record-keeper. He should be able to help,” I admitted.
“Gareth has a particularly well-developed intellect. He has a formidable intelligence, for a human raised in such a primitive culture. I recommend that he be further trained and educated in advanced concepts your ancestors would have considered essential for understanding their civilization.”
“He’s learned a lot, just talking to you,” I admitted. “But he was already a genius when he came to Sevendor.”
“Even with the limited facilities at this installation, there is much that he could learn in the short amount of time we have available, here. While this installation is built to weather such an eruption as I predict, it will be inaccessible for years. I encourage you to take full advantage of the opportunity while it is available. I can direct his field of study at an accelerated pace. You should consider recruiting other intelligent individuals for such a program. I think you will find it will aid you in the tasks that lie ahead.”
“Of course,” I sighed. “I’m sure there’s plenty I need to learn from here, myself. I suppose I should make this my base of operations for the expedition, while I’m here. Soak up as much Ancient lore as I can. It will cut a few days out of the expedition, but it’s probably a good idea. The price of knowledge,” I said, sourly.
“Being better-informed about the terrain and the conditions would be prudent, in such an environment, if you are considering a cross-country expedition,” Forseti agreed. “There is a comprehensive guide, as well as a shorter summary designed for casual use, available for study and replication.”
“Well, that could prove useful,” I admitted.
“It was part of the marketing effort for the region, which evidently developed into an attraction in the late colonial period. There was once a small resort complex built roughly where Anferny is now situated. It was built just before this installation went dormant.”
“It’s a pretty enough place, and the baths are delightful,” I agreed. “If it was easier to get to, it could turn quite a profit. Just how detailed does this guide get?” I asked, curious.
“Quite. It was partially a scientific survey report. It provides raw data and analysis of the several scientific anomalies in the caldera zone. The guidebook, on the other hand, is smaller and sticks to more basic information, often presented in simple, lighthearted layman’s terms. But it does have clear and concise information about the area that can be produced in a portable form.”
“It’s rare that you get a guidebook to a quest,” I observed, pleased. “And Alya might like the chance to rest, after the last couple of days. Is that everything?”
“That was the most urgent piece of information I needed to share with you,” agreed Forseti. “As regional administrator, I wanted to make you aware of the nature of the emergency before I share it with others. A professional courtesy,” he added.
“Thank you,” I murmured, my mind already outlining the daunting tasks ahead.
“There was one other matter I wanted to discuss with you in private,” continued the machine. “While assessing the inventory and other records available with my access of the archives, I discovered a late colonial period development that is not listed in most of the other records. Apparently, just before the collapse of human civilization on Perwyn, the Colonial Defense Force constructed a concealed installation near this site. The nature of the installation is classified beyond my ability to access, but I have a theory.”
“A . . . military installation?” I asked, surprised. “On a volcano?”
“From the size of the site listed in the records, it was not a full-fledged military base, but a utility outpost. But I agree, the positioning of the site is suspect, considering the nature of the terrain. I theorize that the lack of a localized quantum field effect was the primary factor in their decision, not the volcanic nature of the site.”
“They came here because of the jevolar, you think?” I asked, curious.
“The quantum field effect has
a pronounced effect on electronic systems, on which the Colonial Defense Force depended for their weaponry. For certain sophisticated systems it’s likely that this site’s unique characteristics, relative to the rest of the planet, made it desirable to locate them. The data I have access to suggests the site is hardened, secured, and concealed to blend in with the terrain. But the nature, contents, and mission of the installation is unknown. I suggest further exploration, if possible.”
“Could you access it, if we find it?” I asked, eagerly.
“Unknown,” Forseti admitted. “I was a civilian-use Constructed Intelligence, not a military unit. Apart from one consulting project with the Colonial Defense Corps of Engineers, I had no access to military-grade programming or codes. I doubt the universal code I used to access this site would work on such an installation.”
“Pity. Still, I’ll send someone to look for it, if you can give me a good idea of where it’s located. What could be in there? Weapons? Armor?”
“More likely communication, command and control equipment,” corrected Forseti. “That would be their top priority to keep in a zone like this. It would be logical for them to tap into the antenna facility at the top of the mountain and piggyback on the Colonial Science Foundation’s datastream to the Calsat constellation.”
“Pity. I was hoping for something we could smite Korbal with.”
“Do not underestimate the importance accessing such a site might prove, Minalan,” Forseti insisted. “There is much we do not know about the final days of the early colonial civilization. That installation was not even planned, when I went dormant. It is quite probable that using military-grade communications equipment will become necessary if we are to locate the New Horizon. That might not seem like a useful weapon, but it could prove an important resource in your quest to rescue the Forsaken. Perhaps I will learn more once I manage to access the satellite network, myself.”
Footwizard Page 31
