Oracle of Delphi

by James Gurley

  Corycia, planets and all, orbited Melaina, a purplish blue giant barely visible in the northern hemisphere and not visible at all in late summer and winter. Melaina was twenty times the diameter of Corycia but because of its distance, two light years, appeared only as a tiny dot in the sky.

  By true astronomical standards, Charybdis had only one true moon, Bulls Eye. The second moon, a small rogue asteroid captured by the planet during the Veil’s passage, had a much higher albedo and shone brightly. Only for two days each year did its irregular orbit bring it close enough to Charybdis to cast a shadow on Bulls Eye as it passed between moon and planet.

  The Festival of Two Moons was one of the city’s finest celebrations. Many smaller festivals erupted throughout the city on the close of Fifth Day, boasting to rival Carnival in scope if not in duration. Both moons were scheduled to rise together just before midnight on Sixth day as Cleodora was setting. Their combined radiance would illuminate the night sky until dawn. Fireworks and symphonies would usher in the twin moons and dancing and drinking would see them out at dawn. Most shops closed for Weekends Day, more commonly called ‘Weekens’ by Delphinians, allowing workers two days and three nights of debauchery before the drudgery of work the following Firstday.

  The evening of Sixthday, Tad rode in the Royal carriage beside King Karal tossing out small sweets and coins to the crowds. The myriad of Mage lights dancing in the sky intrigued the young king: Dragons and knights did battle; flying fish swooped down just above the crowd’s heads; flocks of songbirds flew in tight formations, singing popular tunes. Gigantic explosions of fireworks filled the air with tiny blossoms that fell among the crowd, each bearing good luck slogans and fortunes. These were the simple tricks of the Mages, the ones for which they were best known. Tad knew them to be capable of much more.

  To Tad’s delight, the young king’s eyes remained glued to the fireworks with a constant smile across his face, drawing his attention away from the throngs of people lining the streets and rooftops. Such crowds made him nervous, even in Tad’s presence, but in his own way, he was ignoring their presence. Tad’s arm grew tired from tossing treats and waving, but he knew the crowd expected such attention and persevered. To his embarrassment, several pretty girls threw slips of paper into his carriage upon which they had written love notes with their names and addresses. He wasn’t certain if they were for him or the king.

  He also knew many of the attentive faces in the crowds were civilian-garbed Palace Guards and Constables keeping a watchful eye and an attentive ear on the crowd. Many more openly patrolled the streets in full dress uniform or rode in formation around the carriage. More Guards discreetly stood atop roofs and on balconies, rifles at the ready. Mages employed by the Council warded the carriage against weapons and worked spells of detection that revealed any weapons in the crowd. The Regents were taking no chances on a rebel attack.

  The night passed without incident and, surprisingly, in spite of a sore arm and bottom, Tad realized that he had enjoyed the attention and excitement that came with riding in the king’s carriage. He could pretend that all the salutations of the crowds and the honor they showed were for him. He knew that such thoughts were far from respectful. After all, he was but a servant of the king, but he was young enough still to dream. The entourage returned to the Black Tower and sat on the great balcony looking down over the city center. The young king, exhausted by the excitement, did not make it past twenty-second hour. The servants carried him to bed, but Tad remained with the Regents, wondering if any of their huddled whisperings concerned him.

  The night sky cooperated with the festivities. Cleodora set, leaving the stars free reign over the night sky until both moons rose as one, glowing brightly above the city, casting twin shadows in which people danced for luck. A pang of lonesomeness and jealousy swept through Tad as he imagined Sira in the arms of another, perhaps even Janith, dancing in the streets. He had hoped to catch a glimpse of her from his carriage, but was secretly pleased when he did not, thinking she had not joined in the celebration.

  The Mages had kept secret even from him some of their more ingenious surprises for the finale. Just as the twin moons rose above the sea’s horizon, while the night sky was ripe with predawn expectation, shafts of light, each a different hue of the rainbow, rose from dozens of areas throughout the city, curving upwards and arching until they met above the Black Tower. Like jets of water in slow motion, they poured upon the Tower and cascaded down its ebony sides, spilling like a flood through the city streets. Revelers stood chest-deep, bathed in different colors of light, shouting and singing. As First Sun rose over the city walls, just as the first rays touched them, the lights exploded into clouds of glittering fireflies that danced above the streets until the rising sun evaporated them.

  With a collective sigh, the night’s celebrations at an end, most revelers stumbled home to enjoy a day free of toil. A handful of brave souls remained, dancing in long, snaking lines down the streets. The Regents had left by ones and twos before this finale, leaving Tad alone on the balcony except for two guards, both Saddir.

  Tad turned to one and asked, “How do they outdo themselves each celebration?”

  The guard spoke. “The Mages have magic far beyond what most suspect and dole it out for our entertainment. What more lies hidden in their tower they refuse to show?”

  Tad was stunned. “You fear the Plin?”

  The guard remained silent for so long Tad thought he was not going to speak again. Finally, he said, “Fear? No. I think their ties with Terrans and Saddir are stronger than many suspect, but I distrust them overall. What the Plin seek might not be in the best interest of Delphi or even Charybdis.”

  “You suspect they make secret plans?”

  The guard relaxed a bit. “Young Tushima, it is not my place to make accusations, yet there are dark whisperings among the Saddir and older races of the power of the Plin. Not all of their secrets were lost during the long ages of the Dark. They give us pretty displays of fireworks and teach the arts of science and warfare, but there are many more books in their great underground libraries no one but the Plin are allowed to read.”

  Tad had not heard of an underground library. Did the guard speak from truth or rumor? “What underground library?”

  Now the guard glanced nervously at his companion and back through the open doors before answering. “It is said to be beneath the Watchers’ Tower, though I have not seen it. A few old men remember its excavation long ago and keep the story alive. Perhaps I speak only of old wives’ tales, but I have learned often even these have some grain of truth.”

  Tad wondered if Simios would allow him access to this library if it truly existed. Simios seemed determined to give him an education. Would he object to such a request? Tad decided to broach the subject with Simios carefully and learn if such an archive truly existed.

  “Your words have given me much to ponder,” he told the guard, “but first I think I need sleep.” He turned to leave.

  “Sleep well, Tushima.”

  Tad turned on the guard. “How does every Saddir know me as Tushima?”

  The guard looked perplexed by his question. “Why, Hanat spoke of you as such many months ago at an Enclave. He was yelled down by many, but now your deeds have proven his words true.”

  “Hanat? What is an Enclave?”

  The guard resumed his at attention pose. “I have spoken too much, Tushima. Seek out Hanat.”

  “I will,” Tad answered as he strode off to bed.

  16

  THE HIDDEN LIBRARY

  “Of what library do you speak, lad?” Simios answered Tad’s query with hands raised, indicating the rows of shelves containing hundreds of books lining the walls of the Watchers’ Tower. “This one?”

  Tad suspected that Simios would attempt to evade the question. Even Theliolis had pleaded ignorance when asked.

  “I have heard of a Great Library beneath the Tower. Is there such a place?”

  Simios shook his head
slowly. “Rumors abound of our hidden lore. People mistrust us yet we strive only to record events. What reason would we have for withholding knowledge?”

  “You withhold knowledge of the coming war and the return of the Veil,” Tad reminded him quickly.

  Simios’s face crinkled. “Those that need to know have been informed. It is not our job to disseminate information to the masses.”

  “Is there a Library?” Tad asked again, more insistently this time.

  “Any knowledge you receive from us will be meted out as you are ready for it. To rush your training hazards your mind, as well as your soul. Be content.”

  Tad lowered his head, ashamed of his outburst. The Plin had chosen him as an apprentice, a high achievement for a Terran youth. Did he have the right to demand more? At the same time, events continued to unfurl around him, involving him, which could harm him and those for whom he cared. Lack of knowledge was like a dull blade. His only defense was knowledge.

  Reluctantly, he dropped the subject and nodded. As Simios walked away, it seemed the Watcher’s shoulders stooped slightly more, as if Tad had added another weight to his cumbersome load. If such a Library existed, Tad decided he would find it without the aid of the Watchers. In this way, knowledge would come “as he was ready for it” as Simios had said.

  The place to start was below the Watchers’ Tower, but how? He had noticed no stairs leading down. The only stairs he had seen led to a higher level and the only way down was the lift. He entered the lift and pushed the down button. As he descended, he carefully examined the wall of the lift. He knew that there were several floors to the Tower, but the lift control panel possessed only two buttons—up and down. Perhaps there were hidden mechanisms. He pressed studs, ornaments and various combinations of the two buttons to no avail. He said “down” in Terran, Plin and in Saddir, but still with no luck. A sudden inspiration struck him. He tried a simple Mage conjuring spell. To his astonishment, it revealed a hidden plaque carved with words of wisdom “Walk with head held high,” but no more controls. He pushed at the plaque, tried to swing it aside or pry it from the wall. He even said the words in different orders, hoping to hit a combination that worked, but nothing did. He sighed in frustration. The elevator reached ground level and the door opened. The attendant looked at Tad and smiled, but Tad did not exit.

  “I forgot something,” he mumbled and pushed the up button. He had to find the Library and he knew it was below the Watchers’ Tower. It had to be.

  He thought again of the hidden plaque. Why hide it? Walk with head held high. The motto was trite enough. Perhaps the words held a deeper meaning. Looking up, he examined the ceiling. There, in the center of the lift he spotted a small, ornately carved circle, easily mistaken for just another decoration. Standing on his tiptoes, he pressed the circle. No hidden panels or doors appeared, but the elevator shuddered to a halt. It then began to descend. He thought that his frustrating search would be terminated either by the attendant after receiving word from the Plin that his return was unauthorized or by the Plin themselves. To his surprise, upon reaching ground level, the lift continued downward. Smiling, Tad counted the number of thuds as the lift passed supports. He knew from previous rides that the supports were three meters apart. He had counted ten thuds when the lift came to a jarring halt. As silently as he could, he opened the door and peered out into a large room lit by electric lights set into the edges of the ceiling. Bundles of fine mesh bearing more lights floated near the high ceiling, luminescent clouds drifting slowly around the room. At first, he suspected they operated on the same principal as the Cloud Rider’s disc, antigravity, but his senses detected a strong magnetic field within the room. The cloud lights floated along fields of opposite polarization in floor and ceiling, magnetic levitation.

  Rows of wooden bookcases filled two sides of the room and more lined the walls of a small balcony. The shelves overflowed with books, boxes and various unknown devices. The center of the room held half a dozen desks, each with its own lamp. Luckily, no one was in the room to discover his presence.

  His delight quickly turned to dismay as he discovered that the tomes were written in many different languages, none of which he understood. The pictures in some of the books he chose at random revealed little about the contents. Even the objects on the shelves were beyond his understanding. Some looked like pistols with no way to load bullets. One object was a helmet with lights and a clear faceplate, but made of such a thin substance it offered little protection in battle. Others baffled him entirely, their use unfathomable. His salvation was due to the carelessness of a former occupant. On one of the desks, he found a transparent clear glass plate rimmed by a silver band containing several buttons. He pressed buttons at random until the plate began to glow. Holding it above a page of curlicue scribbles in a volume, he was amazed to see the contents of the page appear on the plate written in Terran.

  “A translation device,” he whispered in awe. “How lucky.” Upon second thought, it seemed strange to him to leave such a marvelous device lying around, hardly the thing one would simply forget. Was it simply luck that he found it?

  The book was one of ancient mathematical formulas, most undecipherable even in Terran. He felt as if he recognized some of the symbols and formulae, but could not recall having seen them before. He chose another volume at random, a very ancient tome sitting apart from the others. It was a language of lines, circles and other geometric shapes of various colors. Color, shape and placement of characters changed the meaning of the text. Choosing a page at random, he was surprised to see the words leap out at him.

  “Properties of Trans-Dimensional Dynamics with Special Regards to Overlapping Folds in Evolving Spacetime: A Thesis on Modal Communication Between Black Holes.”

  Although he could read the words, their meaning was as foreign as the original script, but at least he now had access to the hidden Library. For hours, he first chose books randomly, then in groups until he found one that made sense. Its title, A Pre-Dark History of Charybdis and the Ebony Tower, startled him.

  “The Dark,” he whispered to himself. He had heard some people, especially the Saddir, call the Veil the ‘Dark’ or the ‘Darkness’, as if it was more an act of evil than a natural cosmological event. “Ebony Tower. Surely the Ebony Tower is the Black Tower of today.” He considered that proof that the Black Tower was older than Terrans’ arrival on Charybdis, perhaps even older than the Quarn.

  He read more:

  “Terran dominance of the Local Arm of the Milky Way was unquestioned after the Expansion when newly designed Jump ships, which created their own micro wormholes through artificial black hole technology for Faster Than Light travel, explored deeper into the heart of our galaxy, opening vast new territories for colonization and trade. Alliances with other space-faring races brought with it many technological innovations.

  “Charybdis was largely bypassed in the Great Rush inward. The unstable gravity wells nearby rendered local planetary travel difficult and Jump ships hazarded destruction by unpredictable tidal forces by Jumping closer than 500 million kilometers from the primary. The long weeks spent inbound and outbound from safe Jump points discouraged casual trade with the Charybdisian system. If not for the Hub, Charybdis and Scylla would have become backwater worlds fully dependent on local production. The Hub served as a safe haven for Jump ships and a depot for the exchange of trade goods. Solar sailed or chemical rocket drones made the local runs safely through tidal flux pools and gravity tsunamis, eliminating the need for manned vessels.

  “The Ebony Tower, whose original architects are still unknown, became the center for a new capital city, Delphi. The native Quarn, a reticent and xenophobic species, and the Haffa, most recent developers of Charybdis allowed the Alliance races to expand and terraform the world to Alliance needs. It is unlikely that the Quarn have ever had the technology necessary to build a structure as advanced as the Ebony Tower in spite of recent discoveries of ruins of a more advanced Quarn culture. Speculation on t
he Tower’s origins runs from the Naiir, an almost mythological species, to the Core Beings, though why such an incorporeal species would have need of such a physical structure is a question for others to answer.”

  What he had read produced more questions than answers. It also left him with a thirst for more knowledge. He was anxious to delve deeper into the mysteries in the written words surrounding him, but fearful Simios or another Plin would catch him and possibly dismiss him from service. He decided to save a deeper perusal of the Library for another time. He could not keep himself from one last look into a small book labeled Saddir Customs and Sociology. What he learned there explained much he had questioned about the Saddir, especially the Enclave, a semi-annual meeting of Saddir leaders, heads of families and chosen representatives. The text gave no particulars of the proceedings, however. He would have to find Hanat and question him further to learn more.

  One book seemed to jump out at him, History of the Alliance. Skimming quickly through it, he found a list of the Alliance members and their home worlds. The Shura, Saddir, Ra’az, and Gecks were listed. He had never heard of several of the other Alliance races and wondered if they had ever been to Charybdis. Two had names too unpronounceable for the Translator to render into Terran English. He was mystified that he did not see the Plin on the list, lending credence to his belief that the Plin were a Terran splinter group.

  Retracing his steps to the lift, he heard a loud humming coming from behind one bare wall. He searched for an entrance into the room beyond. Finally, he waved his hand in front of the wall and a section slid aside soundlessly, revealing a large room. He shivered at the sudden rush of chilled air that spilled from the room. The room was bare except for a small console and a chair. A metal band similar to the one his uncle used to control the karth lay on the seat of the chair. Curious, he donned the band, yet felt nothing but its cool metal against his flesh. He laid it aside and examined the console.