by Rachel Ford
Trajan chuckled. “Good ears, Missy Nancy. It is indeed. The island’s streams all run through here. You should see the falls, especially when the silver fish are on the move.” He shook his head. “It’s like the waters are glistening.”
“It sounds beautiful.”
“It is. It’s actually why the first fortress was built here, you know: with a single spot where all three rivers converged, it was too risky to leave unprotected. A single saboteur might have poisoned or incapacitated the entire island. So one of my ancestors, Divell, put a guardhouse here. And then a fortress. This was back before the island could move under our direction, back when she floated over the southern pole.”
“Wait,” Nance said, “what? You mean, the island couldn’t move before?”
Trajan shook his head. “She was as stationary as a rock, my dear. We hovered over the southern pole, far from the mainland.”
“But…how?”
He laughed. “You are one for the hows, aren’t you? Well, I’m no scientist. I’ve heard the explanation of course, but it’s a little too technical for me. But it’s something to do with magnetism. The long and short of it is, there's something in the mantle of our planet and something in the core of our island that causes a magnetic charge. And the two of them – well, it’s like two magnets lying end to end: they push each other away, until they find that sweet spot where neither exerts enough force to move the other.
“So, back in the day, when we had no way to alter our magnetism, Atupal hovered over the south pole: that was the sweet spot.
“Nowadays, with the crystal core, we’re able to manipulate the island’s charge, which means we lower it to lower the island, or increase it to raise the island. We can also magnetize one side or the other, to facilitate multidirectional travel.” Trajan shrugged. “There’s a lot of science to it, and it’s all over my head. I just concern myself with the operation. Come, I’ll show you.”
“You mean, you know how to fly the island yourself?”
He snorted. “Of course. More fun than a hornets’ nest in a bear pit, I tell you. It’s like flying the biggest damned airship you ever saw.”
They were walking as they conversed, toward a kind of control booth. Alfred saw an array of rounded screens and two-tone displays, large, lime green pixels on a black backdrop. For a moment, he could make out no purpose. They seemed to be primitive images, drawn out in blocky, pixel-heavy form.
As they neared, though, the taxman began to understand. These were sensors, depicting the islands and their relative position to other land masses.
“This is the control center,” Trajan explained. “The pilot’s domain.”
“It’s incredible,” Nancy declared. “To be honest, if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes? Well, I wouldn’t believe it.”
“Winthrop said your people might have a hard time with it. He said there’s nothing like this where you come from.”
“No, nothing at all.”
“To me, that’s incomprehensible.”
She nodded. “I can see that. But tell me…how do you learn to move your world? I mean, it’s not really something you can get wrong. Not like driving a car, where you can just get another if you total it.”
Trajan chuckled. “No. But, umm, as king, one does have a bit more leeway than otherwise might be granted.” With a wink, he added, “And the royal treasury, to cover incidental damages resulting from overeager piloting.”
Nance considered this for a moment, then laughed too. “Is that something that happens, then? ‘Incidental damages’?”
“Well, I can’t speak for my predecessors. But when I was learning to move Atupal? Yes. I turned too quickly once or twice, got too close to the mainland…even caused a minor earthquake.”
Nance’s jaw dropped. “A minor…earthquake?”
He shrugged. “The old girl’s a finicky beast. Change the polarity too rapidly, and she’ll grumble.”
Nance laughed again, and Alfred frowned. Living on a floating island had its benefits – putting that much distance between oneself and the rest of humanity being chief among them. On the other hand, if it meant signing your life over to the piloting abilities of a man who could lose at chess when playing against himself? Well, the taxman would stick to regular ground.
“So,” Trajan was saying, “this is where the piloting happens. But over here…” He beckoned for them to follow, and they did. The king stopped at a kind of platform a few meters from the control center, with a push pad control panel nearby. Unlike the rest of the chamber, it was fashioned from silver metal rather than the natural stone. “This is the exact center of the island.”
“Oh.” Alfred wasn’t sure what else to say. He was sure there was some significance behind centrality, but it escaped him.
“And this…” The king pushed a sequence of buttons into the control panel. “Is where we keep the navigation crystals.”
Alfred nearly yelped as he felt the platform move under him. Scrambling backward, planting his feet on solid stone, he watched as the metal plate drew back. In its place, he saw a mid-sized circular chamber – and a terribly bright light emanating from inside.
The taxman shielded his eyes and took another step back.
“Those are the crystals?” Nancy asked, wonder in her tone.
“That’s right. Incredible, aren’t they?”
“They are.”
Forcing himself to look, Alfred blinked into the light until he formed a picture of what lay at the center of that overwhelming luminescence. He saw a huge crystalline structure glowing silvery blue. It filled the majority of the chamber, leaving only a narrow walkway around it. It was, despite the pain, a very pretty sight.
“I don’t understand how crystals can alter the island’s magnetism, though,” Nancy said.
Trajan laughed, pressing a button on the control panel to close the platform. “When this is all done, Miss Nancy, I’ll sit you down with our Chief Minister of Science. You’ll get your answers – and I’m sure he will love to meet you. I doubt he often meets such an enthusiastic inquisitor.”
Nance laughed. “Well, I look forward to it, your majesty.”
“Of course. For the savior of Atupal? It’s the least I can do.”
Chapter Seventeen
Trajan brought the island a few kilometers outside the capital. “I daren’t get closer, or we’ll raise suspicion. Who knows what those lunatics will be about, if they realize we’ve sent someone to infiltrate their ridiculous celebration.”
Despite his apprehensions, Alfred found the entire business fascinating. He was mesmerized by the primitive technology, the early-Earth television style cathode ray tube displays, and the complex array of levers and dials and joysticks Trajan manipulated. He was captivated by the slow, subtle start to their travels, and the speed they picked up as time went on.
Far too soon, though, it came to an end. He and Nance were hustled into a waiting airship, with the promise, “Well, we’ll see you soon then. The best of luck to you, Alfred and Nancy. Atupal is in your debt.”
And then, before he knew it, the ship let them off, and they were back to walking. “Well, Nancy,” he sighed, “for a world that has airships, we’ve spent an awfully lot of time hoofing it places.”
She laughed. “Well, just think of your step count: you’re smashing your goals.”
He harrumphed. The step count had been her idea, not his. She’d hinted that he led too sedentary an existence, and signed them both up for a walking challenge at work. Dating, he concluded, was like registering with the selective service: inevitable, but likely to get you drafted into all manner of unpleasantness.
Not that he minded, exactly. If she was anyone else, well, dragging him into exercise would not have happened. But this was Nance. And, to judge by how much his feet ached, she probably had a point about him needing to move a bit more.
She, meanwhile, took his hand. “Come on, babe. We’re at the finish line now. All we have to do is destroy this crystal,
and it’s mission-accomplished for us.”
That was a cheering prospect, and he nodded. The day, too, was sunny and bright, with a cool, fresh breeze. He felt reinvigorated.
The distance fell away quickly enough, and soon the city began to take shape. He saw great buildings and busy thoroughfares sprawling out in front of them.
The nearer they got, the larger the crowds grew. Soon, they were pressed into a great mass of humanity, all of it headed for the center of the city and the Science Academy.
Alfred could see the central tower – the one that housed the time crystal – rising high above the city. But the academy itself was a magnificent structure of light stone, in a semi-gothic style. Flying buttresses and stained glass windows, tall, serious looking statues, and more spires than Alfred could readily take in, gave it a distinct look that was simultaneously familiar but foreign.
“It’s beautiful,” Nancy declared beside him.
He nodded. He felt a bit more like a tourist than a secret agent at the moment. “You think this will ever get old, Nance?”
“What?”
“Seeing places like this, worlds like this.”
“I hope not, babe.”
“Me too.” That sense of wonder, of being in the presence of a history bigger than oneself, was at once humbling and inspiring. He hoped he never lost it. He hoped they never lost it, wherever Winthrop sent them. There was something about standing before the work of generations with the woman he loved – something that put the brevity and preciousness of life into perspective. He squeezed her hand and she smiled up at him.
They were roused from their reverie by the jostling of the crowd, and the impatient flow of traffic behind them. Surrendering to the pull of the throng, they soon reached the Science Academy.
Despite a sizable crowd, traffic moved freely, and there was little wait time. The hum of voices outside had been bad enough, but the taxman cringed as they stepped into the interior. The roar was practically deafening: conversations reached the vaulted ceilings, bounced off the stone walls, and rang off the marble floors, in a great, echoing cacophony. The tramp of boots and the shrieks of laughing children reverberated everywhere.
It was a mess of humanity, and Alfred shuddered at the prospect of how many free-floating germs must be in the confined airspace. Nancy, though, was smiling from cheek to cheek. “Look at that, Alfred,” she called, pointing out some mechanical contraption covered in levers and dials. And, “Oh my goodness, did you see that tractor prototype? It’s steam-powered, Alfred. Let’s go check it out.”
He’d have to remind her now and again, “Babe, we’re here for a reason.”
She’d nod, the tiniest bit crestfallen, but concur. “You’re right.”
Finally, they made it past the largest exhibit rooms, to the central hall. From there, according to the blueprints, they’d be able to disappear into the western hall, and – with a bit of luck – get to one of the tower access points.
That was the plan, at least. They’d barely reached the great hall, though, when a hush settled on the assemblage. It happened all at once. One moment, the crowd had been as boisterous and irritating as usual. The next, they’d fallen so silent that the sound of Alfred’s voice, as he complained about the impracticality of steam power, was loud and jarring in the stillness. He drew up short, silenced as much by the incongruousness of the change as the dirty looks cast in his direction.
A woman stood at the far end of the hall, a foot or two above the crowd on a dais. “People of Inbalibrab, welcome to our third annual Science Academy Fair.”
The crowd applauded, and Nance whispered, “That must be Chancellor Irma.”
The taxman had paid little attention to what promised to be an empty speech, but now he took a second look. She was a tallish woman, with pretty but serious features. She wore a dark dress and long, sleek jacket that elongated her appearance a little more. Her hair was drawn back in a style like Nancy’s, great piles of hair pinned into place. On top of her head, she wore a little hat, and around her neck, a single chain and locket.
It was an elegant ensemble, he had to grant, lacking some of the more eccentric colors and styles he’d seen – not least of all, those on his own person. Frowning, he found himself lingering to hear what this Irma had to say for herself.
Nance seemed to be of the same mind, because, though the moment was perfect, she did not urge them to move on either.
“And thank you for being here, despite the sightings earlier.” A knowing murmur ran through the crowd. “Five years ago, such a thing would not be possible. Think what that sight would have done five years ago: it would have caused chaos in the streets, a mass exodus from the city, panic in Katar. We wouldn’t have known if we would return to a city still standing, or to a massacre.”
She shook her head. “We all remember what happened to Idan. We all lost friends and family there.” Another knowing murmur, this time quiet and troubled, sounded around them. Alfred’s frown deepened. He had no idea what she was talking about, but none of it sounded good. “But today, we can see that monstrous shadow in the sky and go about our lives without fear, in the certain knowledge that we are safe.
“And that? Well that, people of Inbalibrab, we owe to our friends at the Science Academy, and their brilliant magnetic dome.”
The taxman’s efforts to parse meaning from all of this were violently and decisively interrupted by a barrage of clapping and cheering so excessive that he had to put his hands to his ears to muffle it.
Eventually, it quieted, and he listened as Irma continued, “These are no ‘ministers of science.’ They have no time for vapors and healing auras.” Knowing laughter sounded all around them. “These are men and women of real science, for whom there are no unknowable questions: just answers that have yet to be discovered. These are men and women for whom there is no insurmountable challenge: just new solutions yet to be implemented.”
Alfred found his attention waning. Irma’s platitudes were no more original than the average middle-manager tasked with Employee Appreciation Day. He’d heard it before. It didn’t inspire him then. It certainly didn’t move him now.
Nance, meanwhile, tugged at his elbow, guiding him out of the great hall. They slipped into the western pass while the crowd applauded on cue, and Alfred loosed a breath of relief. The noise was still obscenely loud, but at least it was filtered a bit. He glanced up and down the hall, trying to picture their location relative to the blueprints he’d seen earlier.
“What do you think Chancellor Irma meant about Idan?”
He shook his head. He’d almost forgotten the mention. “No idea.”
“And the shadow in the sky?”
“No clue. I think that’s the way up.” He pointed to a doorway some few rooms down. “To the tower.”
Nance followed him thoughtfully. The hall was empty now, except for a few stragglers passing between rooms and a guardsman patrolling at the far end. Feigning as casual an air as he could manage, the taxman meandered down the hall. He’d pretend to glance into an exhibit room here, or at a display there, until they reached their destination. Then, waiting until the guard slipped into a chamber further down the way, they ducked into the stairwell.
Alfred smiled triumphantly. No shouts pursued them, no hurried footfalls sounded. “We did it,” he whispered.
Nance nodded, and they raced up the stairs as quietly as they could. Once they reached the landing, though, she took his elbow again.
“What’s wrong?” he wondered.
“I’m just thinking of what Irma said. You don’t think…well, that she meant Atupal, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“The shadow in the sky: could she have been talking about the islands?”
He frowned. “Why not say the islands, then?”
“I don’t know. But, I mean, we didn’t see any shadow on the way down here.”
“No,” he acknowledged. “We didn’t.”
“And we were on the road for
a while.”
He nodded. “So…you think she was talking about the island, then?”
“What else could it have been?”
“I don’t know, but it seems likely.”
“And then that comment about – what was it? Idan? What was that all about?”
“She said people died.”
“Yes. And because of the academy, the people of Katar don’t have to live in fear anymore.” Her brow furrowed, and she turned concerned eyes to him. “Alfred, you don’t think Atupal…well, attacked Idan, do you?”
He considered this for a moment. “I don’t know, to be honest. If that’s the shadow they’re talking about…it makes sense. But darling, we know they’ve been at each other’s throats. The Science Academy is about to commit genocide to one-up the Royal Academy. They’re definitely not on good terms, and it wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve been at war.”
“Trajan should have told us.”
He shrugged. “Maybe he assumed Winthrop did. Or that we just knew. And that’s if they actually were, and we’re not misreading her words.”
Nance pressed a hand to her forehead. “It just feels like…well, like we’re not getting the whole story. Like there’s stuff we don’t know.”
Alfred took her hand in his. “There’s always stuff we don’t know, babe. But what we do know is, Winthrop wanted us here, helping Trajan. And we’re almost there – all we’ve got to do is take out that time crystal.”
She nodded slowly. “Alright. You’re right. Let’s just do that, and get out of here. We can figure out the rest later.”
Chapter Eighteen
The time crystal was suspended from the ceiling in a curious apparatus of wires and tubes. It emitted a silvery blue glow, much like the crystal structure on Atupal. Here, it was not so overpowering in its brightness, and the taxman could observe it without cringing.
It was a beautiful sight. The light shimmered and danced in an almost ethereal way, like something out of a fairy story. Alfred could have stood there, transfixed, if not for Nance.
