by Luke Donegan
“But you are closer than friends could ever be. Because you share something, understand of and commitment to the Law. This forges a fierce bond between scion and master.”
Jay nodded. He sipped his tea and looked at the Teacher. Her eyes were fiery and penetrating.
“And now that bond has been broken,” she said. “She has taken your place, and you are here. I imagine you feel loss."
“Yes,” he said.
She looked at him kindly. “I cannot take that feeling away. But it will pass.” She took a long sip from her tea. “I was once a hearth teacher, like you. I was Teacher at Riverbed-Hearth. My heart broke when I left. I could not bear to leave the children. But I was torn between two desires. I chose the Museum and the greater ascension it offered. Scion follows Teacher, and Passage takes us all, sooner than we would like. Like you I became Scion-Teacher at the Museum. Here you will touch the lives of many.”
She placed her empty bowl on the tatami and looked at Jay.
“Scion,” she said. “At this moment we do not know each other. You will be nervous with me, and I will be uncertain of you. But a bond will develop between us, and a time will come when it will be unimaginable that we were once strangers. While I will never replace your scion, you will discover that I am someone you can rely on.
“Now, we have a long day ahead of us,” she continued. “I want to show you around the Museum, and introduce you to some people. Are you ready?”
“Yes, I am ready, Teacher,” he said.
Jay followed the Teacher into the elevator and gazed at the sweltering city through its glass walls. The Boulevard below linked the Museum to the city centre. There, surrounding the Central Square rose the three great buildings of the Ascendancy – the granite Ascendancy itself, the Barracks, and the white marble Courthouse. From these three buildings members of the Ascendancy governed the city.
“Let me explain the power structure of the Museum,” said the Teacher.
The doors closed, and the elevator began its descent.
“The Director is at the top of the hierarchy. As you know, he is a member of the Ascendancy. He is equal to the Mother who governs hearths, to the General who governs the army, to the Judge who governs law, and so on. He answers only to the Ascendant. The Triumvirate and I answer to the Director. Beneath the Triumvirate are their Scion-Curators. Together they research knowledge and curate the collections in their respective exhibition domes. I will take you to visit each dome.”
The elevator descended through the ceiling of the administration building.
“The Museum itself is about seven hundred years old,” continued the Teacher. “We are caretakers here, and our role is to transfer the knowledge stored in the collections to future generations. Understanding of the Law, and of History, Science and Nature. We do this so that the mistakes of the past can never be remade.”
They reached the ground floor. “I will teach you my stories. You will add your flavour to these stories, shaped by your experiences and your values. In time you will teach your stories to your own scion, and thus the narrative of our age continues.”
They stepped into the central corridor that led to the domes and to the Museum’s foyer.
“Teacher, can I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
“How long have you been Teacher here?”
“For seven years,” she said. “Before that I was scion for five years. I was sixteen when I came to the Museum. Older, and a stranger, like you.”
“And the Scion-Teacher before me. Was he ...” Jay stopped, fearing his inquisitiveness was impolite.
“It is only natural to be curious. Erys was a good scion. I despaired when I heard of his death. He was much loved by all here at the Museum.” She stopped and looked at him. “And you, of course, are worried that you will not measure up to him.”
She nodded. “You may not, Jay. That is the truth. What did you say in the interview?”
“I will make the role my own?”
“Yes. You will make the role your own. And in doing so discover your strength. I would not have chosen you if I did not think you were capable. Now, first I will show you the History dome.”
The doors to the History Dome swung open. Jay had expected a vast space, but they instead entered a small antechamber.
“This gallery has a complex but brilliant design,” said the Teacher. “The gallery allows you to design your own exhibition. It will create a route determined by what you input into this selection panel.”
On the panel before them were two sections displaying a number of options. The first section displayed a range of historical ages. The second panel was thematic and presented choices labeled: Politics, Law, Culture, War, and Events.
“Choose a civilisation and cross-reference it to a theme,” the Teacher told him.
Jay paused before the selection panel.
“Allow me to choose for you,” came a voice from behind.
The Curator of History approached and bowed. “Teacher, Scion-Teacher,” he greeted.
“Good morning, Paris,” said the Teacher.
Jay bowed quickly. “Good morning, Curator.”
“How are you enjoying your first day?” asked Paris Aristotle. He leant past them and pressed two buttons on the panel. “The Third Roman Empire,” he said to himself. “And let me see. Events.”
As he pressed the second button, a deep rumbling sounded from within the dome.
“The History Dome is constructed from a series of interconnecting and moveable corridors and rooms,” he explained. “The interior is reassembled to match your choice. Hydraulics and levers under the floor move the rooms about. I have some time to spare and thought I could join you.”
“It would be our pleasure,” said the Teacher.
The door into the gallery swung open. They entered into a wide, curving hallway. Items on display lined the walls, preserved within glass cabinets. Maps presented geographic locations. Voices spoke through hidden speakers discussing particular objects, moments in history, tales of important people.
“This part of the gallery discusses the development of quark technology,” noted the Curator. “It was this technology that marked the height of the Third Roman Empire.”
Jay approached a print of an ancient photograph which showed eight figures standing around a table. Six men and two women. The figures were scientists of the Third Roman Empire. Before them on a table sat a model of a Hydrogen atom. One of the scientists leant over the model holding a simple kitchen knife poised to slice into the atom. His eyes glinted at the camera and his face held a cheeky grin at this mock representation of what he and his team had discovered how to achieve on the sub-atomic level.
“’Kafka Yellis divides the proton,’” read Jay from a plaque beneath the photograph.
“Do you know who Kafka Yellis was?” asked Paris Aristotle.
“He was the scientist who first split the proton and discovered quark energy.”
“And what were the consequences of this discovery?”
“This technology was used in the development of quark bombs and quark lasers,” said Jay. “Which led to the Quark Wars.”
“Yes,” said the Curator. “A period which marked the end of the Third Roman Empire and the beginning of Loss and Decline. The end of civilisation and the death of billions of people.”
Paris Aristotle looked from Jay to the photograph.
“They are celebrating here. Look how proud they are. Do you think they were aware at the moment this photograph was taken,” asked the Curator quietly, “of the terrible consequences their discovery would have?”
Jay examined the eyes of Kafka Yellis. The scientist had a self-satisfied air. Jay was surprised at the angry reaction he had towards the man. The scientist was joking around but his discovery would almost destroy the planet.
“You are right to be angry,” said the Teacher. “This man’s lack of consideration brought calamity to the world, the effects of which we are still feeli
ng today. Probably Kafka Yellis did not know what would happen,” said the Teacher. “But he should have considered the possibility. In this way he broke the Law, not by intent, but because of pride and arrogance. Regardless, great evil was unleashed by his actions.”
“Does that make him evil?” asked Jay. “If he had no actual intent.”
Neither the Teacher nor the Curator had a confident answer to give him.
“Some believe that evil resides with intent,” said the Teacher. “Others that evil is determined by the consequences of an action, that no matter how well-intentioned a person may be, if their actions cause Aberration, then they are evil. I am not wise enough to know which is true. But I do know that by committing to the Law, and by studying the past, we can avoid making the same mistakes that reduced this great civilisation to dust and memory.”
Jay studied a diorama depicting a battalion of Xinjiang soldiers marching on the city of Lanzhou. Each soldier bore a quark gun, slicing through everything before them. Matter melted away like wax in a furnace. The next diorama showed Beijing before and after it was vaporized by a quark bomb. A recorded voice narrated the destruction of the city, describing the loss of twelve million people.
Jay and the Teacher explored the dome with the Curator of History for another hour.
“The History Dome will be an invaluable tool in your work here as Scion-Teacher,” said the Curator as they returned to the anti-chamber. “I suggest that during your first few weeks you explore the galleries at your own convenience. Of course I would be happy to assist you in any way I can. Now, Scion-Teacher, Teacher, I will leave you as I am sure there is much more to see today.”
“Thank you, Paris,” said the Teacher. “We have imposed greatly on your time.”
“Oh no, no!” said the man, waving her away. “It is my pleasure.”
His yellow robes spun as he re-entered, blushing, into the gallery.
“Well,” said the Teacher absently, looking after the man into empty space. “I think perhaps it is time we visited the Builder.”
Heat from the furnaces and ovens washed against Jay’s face as they entered the Workshop. Workbenches were littered with exhibition items, plinths and display cases. Workers, mostly children younger than Jay, hammered away at heat-softened metals, polished surfaces, attached artifacts to plinths, repaired broken items. Sparks flew and the air rippled with waves of heat.
Once the visitors were noticed the children put down their tools and bowed.
A child called out above the noise of the furnaces. “Builder! The Teacher is here!”
A large man turned from the open door of a furnace, hammer in one hand and tongs in the other. Red light reflected off his sweating arms. The man lay down his tools and removed his protective helmet.
“A welcome surprise, Teacher,” he said, bowing generously.
The Builder had been a handsome man, once. Scars now marked his face.
“Hello Builder,” Ariel said warmly. “Allow me to introduce my new Scion. Jay, this is the Builder. He is responsible for building the exhibition spaces and maintaining the collections.”
The workshop children peered across their workbenches at the new Scion-Teacher, craning their necks for a better view.
“My name is Lucien,” said the man, his facial scars rippling as he spoke. He dipped his head and wiped grease-darkened hands on his leather apron. “Welcome to the Museum workshops. I can show you around, if you have time?”
“Only if we are not interrupting,” said the Teacher.
“Felicity,” he called to a girl by the furnace. “Finish up for me.”
Jay watched the small figure lift the Builder’s tools, framed by blazing red light from the furnace.
“This is the heavy materials workshop,” explained the Builder. “Here we use heat to change the properties of materials. We build scaffolds, frames and mechanics that support the exhibition galleries. In other workshops we do small jobs, the restoration of delicate objects, for example. Taxidermy is also down here. I will take you there as well. Mind your robes don’t get dirty. There is oil on the floor.”
The Teacher and Jay hoisted up the hemlines of their robes. They followed the Builder across the workshop. The eyes of the workshop children tracked the visitors. As the visitors passed to the next section, the children sprang into conversation, discussing the new Scion-Teacher and speculating about the relationship between their boss and the beautiful Teacher.
In the Taxidermist’s room animals lined the shelves, hung from the ceiling, and filled every square inch of the floor space. A Zoologist’s treasure trove, an ark to be sent soaring across space to populate a new planet. But none of these animals were alive.
A thin man looked up from his work as the three entered the room. A girl a few years younger than Jay stood beside him. The taxidermist was working at a table on which lay a large animal. The creature looked anesthetised, halfway through an operation. Annoyance flickered across the man’s face at the intrusion.
“We will not keep you, Gregor,” apologised the Builder. “The Teacher is showing her new scion around the Museum. Scion-Teacher, this is the Taxidermist, and his Scion-Taxidermist, Clara.”
“I am pleased to meet you Taxidermist. And you, Scion-Taxidermist,” said Jay, bowing.
Clara uttered a small squeak and stepped behind her master.
“The Taxidermist and Clara look after the animals in the Nature Dome. Have you shown Jay the Nature Dome?” asked the Builder.
“That is planned for this afternoon,” said Ariel. “Taxidermist, please excuse our interruption. We will trouble you no further.”
The Taxidermist brushed his hands and stepped towards them. “My manners are clumsy,” he said. “Please excuse me. You are welcome, Teacher.”
Although the man seemed to relax, Jay noticed that the pulse at his neck was racing. The man was nervous in their presence. The Scion-Taxidermist had the furtive look of someone caught in wrongdoing. Jay smiled gently as he turned his attention to the animals throughout the laboratory.
“Here, Scion-Teacher,” said the Taxidermist, gesturing for Jay to approach the bench. “Do you know this creature?”
“Is it a leopard?”
“Yes. A victim of the mass extinction during Loss and Decline. Feel its coat.”
Jay ran his fingers along the leopard’s back, the soft fur feeding between his fingers. With surprise he noticed that the leopard was warm.
“Each creature in the dome has an internal battery pack that warms the animal,” explained the Taxidermist. “It doubles as a moisture pump to the eyes and mouths. We want the creatures to be as life-like as possible.”
Jay ran his hands through its fur once more, stepped back and smiled.
“Taxidermist, you make me believe that they are alive,” he said. “How wonderful the world must have been when these creatures roamed the earth.”
“Yes, it must have been,” agreed the thin man.
The Taxidermist had nothing else to say. He waited with his timid scion until the visitors bowed and left him to his work.
“It is a special day when you visit,” said the Builder as they waited for the elevator.
“Thank you, Builder.” She smiled the smallest of smiles and looked away.
“I am pleased to meet you, Jay. The previous Scion-Teacher was well liked and our community grieved at his death. But communities, like other life forms, must adapt and evolve. I welcome you to the Museum.”
They are soaked in him, thought Jay. He is all through this place, and I am jealous of a dead man.
“Thank you, Builder,” he said.
They bowed to the Builder and stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed the workshop beyond erupted into whistles and squeals. Jay heard the muffled voice of the Builder shout “Enough!” as the elevator began its ascent.
“I think we should break for lunch,” said the Teacher. “It has been a busy morning.”
“How did the Builder get his scars?” asked Jay.
The elevator passed through ground level and blue sky filled the glass. The Teacher gazed across the city as she spoke: “A furnace exploded three years ago. He saved a boy, sheltering him with his own body. He nearly died.” She absently wound a curl of red hair around a finger. “The Builder is an admirable man,” she said.
They returned to their room.
“Sit on the tatami and reflect on what you have seen. I will prepare a meal.”
Jay removed his sandals and sat on the tatami, looking across the northern zone of the city. The Islands of Death lay thousands of miles to the north over the shimmering horizon. Beyond the islands was the ancient land of Ch’in. These were dead lands now, unpopulated as was the rest of the planet. Two thousand years ago the Quark Wars had devastated the earth. All that remained were two fragile communities, Pars and Sydon, separated by three thousand miles of red, shifting sand.
The straw felt smooth and cool as he ran his hands along the tatami weave.
The Teacher arrived with a tray of steamed fish wrapped in kelp. The fish lifted from the bone in steaming, white pieces.
“It is very nice,” said Jay.
“Thank you, Scion. I enjoy cooking. I think of stories while I cook.”
“I can cook for you, if you would like,” said Jay. “I prepare meals at the hearth.”
“That would be nice,” said the Teacher. She looked past him through window.
She is always elsewhere, thought Jay. A silence grew between them. Jay chewed his food and waited for her to return.
“Share with me your understanding of Passage,” said the Teacher suddenly.
“Passage is the passing of the Spirit from the body to the Spirit realm,” said Jay. “It is our proof of afterlife, and it eases the suffering of those left behind, knowing that another life awaits us.”
“And what happens to the body, during Passage?”
“The body dissipates,” said Jay. “The body dissolves into golden light, and is no more.”
“That’s right,” said the Teacher. She held her fork in the air between them. Speared on the tines was a piece of white fish meat. “But what then of this fish? How is it that this meat remains?”
