Babylon 5 16 - Techno-Mages 01 - Casting Shadows (Cavelos, Jeanne)

by Casting Shadows (Cavelos, Jeanne)

  Galen was nearly recovered from the override, but he seemed trapped within his thought s, overwhelmed by them. When Galen was very upset, Elric had noticed, he always became still. In the days following his parents' funeral, he had sat on a stool by the fire with his hands folded not moving for hours. At that time, Elric had felt inadequate to the task of caring for Galen. He had long lived alone, and had accepted solitude as his natural condition. The roles of teacher and parent were foreign to him. He had no affinity for children, who struck him generally as irritating, unpredictable, and undisciplined.

  In his visits to Galen's parents on mage matters, Elric had come to find Galen somewhat less objectionable than other children. Yet he had felt uneasy in taking Galen on as his apprentice, afraid that he would be unequal to the task. Elric had been surprised to find their natures quite suited to each other, and somehow, Galen had developed into a promising apprentice. Sometimes, though, Elric wondered if Galen might have been better served by a teacher who could have been more of a parent.

  Elric set a mug of water on the table in front of Galen, which at last brought him to life. He looked up at Elric with large, hungry eyes.

  "What was it?" he asked.

  "I do not know."

  "It was dangerous."

  "So it seemed. With a power greater than any I've sensed from a century"

  "I didn't lose control."

  "That," Elric said, "is the most troubling aspect of it."

  At the beginning of their training, chrysalis-stage apprentices often lost control and generated violent bursts of energy. But that wasn't what Elric had observed today. Galen's spell had been focused, controlled. This hadn't been some outburst of undisciplined violence. That had been a carefully crafted, directed, outpouring of huge power.

  Elric had barely been able to stop it in time. Galen shook his head.

  "I didn't know... what it would do."

  "I realize that. Tell me how you arrived at this spell."

  Galen brought his screen from his bedroom and led Elric through a progression of equations that he had derived from translating the works of Wierden and Gali-Gali. As Galen spoke, Elric was glad to see him become more animated.

  "I realized there was no first equation in the progression, with only one term. That is what I conjured."

  Elric sat beside him.

  "The idea of a first equation in the progression. It makes perfect sense in your spell language. Yet there is no equivalent in mine."

  Galen was a genius for coming up with it. Although Elric had helped Galen formulate and develop his spelt language, it was vastly different from Elric's: much more complex, much more regimented. Elric had thought this would limit Galen's abilities; he had never imagined it would lead to new discoveries.

  "I thought it might be a fluke of my language, that it might do nothing. But it did... do something."

  A spell like this might explain some of the mysteries in techno-mage history. But the implications disturbed Elric.

  "It gathered great energy and instability."

  Galen's hands tightened around the screen. He was still troubled about what he had done, and how he had come to do it.

  "The second term must stabilize the first. Perhaps it creates an opposing force of some kind."

  "The result of the spell could not have been anticipated," Elric said.

  Galen turned to him, brilliant blue eyes needy, unblinking.

  "How is it that my spell language led to this?"

  "The same way that the study of the atom led to the atomic bomb, or the study of light to the laser. The potential was there. You discovered it."

  "I intended no harm," Galen said.

  "And you must make sure you never do."

  Through his discovery Galen had imposed a great burden on himself. Elric wished Galen did not have to bear it, did not know if he could bear it. If Elric had not taught him, had not pushed him, harshly and relentlessly, Galen might never have had to bear it. But knowledge, once gained, could not be willfully forgotten. Elric stood, holding Galen's gaze.

  "You have a grave responsibility now, a burden that you must bear for the rest of your life. You understand, you must never conjure that spell again."

  Galen put the screen down.

  "Yes."

  "Under any circumstance. For any reason."

  "Yes."

  "We do not know what the effects would be, or how widespread they would be."

  "Yes."

  "A mage is sworn to use his powers for good, not for death or destruction."

  "Yes."

  "And you must never tell anyone how you arrived at the spell."

  "Yes."

  Elric gave a single nod. Galen had spoken with determination, but he did not yet understand what the burden meant. Elric did not fully understand it himself. All mages had great powers, and they had to learn to control those powers so that they followed the Code and did only good. They not only had to control the tech, but to control themselves, their own impulses. It required constant discipline.

  Many mages, unfortunately, lost control at one time or another. Fights broke out, fireballs were cast, but usually, no permanent harm was done. Apologies could be said, and the slip could be forgotten.

  But Galen could allow himself no slips. Elric had taught him discipline and control. Galen had learned better than he knew. Yet no mage had perfect control. If, in a moment of anger, he cast the spell, it could have vast, destructive consequences. Elric did not know what the spell would have done if he had not stopped it.

  At least the spell had been cast in training, which meant it remained a matter between teacher and apprentice, and the Circle would not become formally involved. With them Galen would face many questions and many doubts. Elric had no doubts where Galen was concerned. He knew that Galen would devote all his efforts to obeying Elric's commands and following the Code. He was a dedicated, skilled apprentice, and he would become an exceptional mage.

  The Circle would certainly want to hear informally from Elric, and some might even question whether Galen should be initiated. But Galen had done nothing wrong, and so Galen would be initiated. Elric would see to it. Galen had taken his screen back to his bedroom, and now he returned. He tilted his head, as he did when he was about to ask a question.

  "It seems likely that someone would have discovered this spell before me. Is that possible? Might the knowledge be kept for safety by the Circle?"

  It wasn't like Galen to question the Circle.

  "I know of no such discovery. I think you fail to recognize the uniqueness of your language, and what it has shown you. But if the spell was found in the past, the user might have been killed in the conjure.

  "Although many outside the Circle would like to believe we are omniscient, and many within would like to appear so, our records are far from complete. Mages contribute to our archives only the knowledge they wish to share, and while in recent years that has often meant the majority of what they know, in the past many mages preferred to pass their knowledge on privately, to those of their choosing."

  Galen nodded. Although the incident obviously still troubled him, he looked better. The color had come back into his face, and he seemed to have come back to himself.

  "I must return to the convocation," Elric said.

  "You are fit?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. I need you to set up the Becoming."

  They left the house behind and headed out across the mak.

  The mist had thinned since morning, and the sun was bright. In the distance Elric could see activity around the tents. Through his place of power, he accessed various probes to see what needed his attention. One probe, on the side of the tents that faced the sea, showed a group of chrysalis-stage apprentices looking out over the cliff. They reminded Elric of a topic he had long postponed discussing with Galen. He found the topic even more difficult than the one they had just discussed. But he had known, when he had seen that expression on Galen's face this morning, that he
must not delay. Perhaps the change of subject would do Galen good.

  "At these convocations," Elric said, "you are around Humans of your own age, including females. And now, as you are an adult, you may find a certain excitement in this. Many times, mages begin relationships with each other. These are almost always short-lived. As you know, we found long ago that mages do not do well in relationships with other mages. They are too opinionated, too intense. Disputes arise, feelings are hurt. Any attempt to create something of depth or duration ends unfortunately."

  He looked at Galen.

  "I say this merely as a precaution."

  "Her shield was outstanding," Galen said.

  "That it was. But there are many here with exceptional skill."

  They walked in silence for a time. Galen's head lowered, and Elric could sense him falling back into worry. Yet after a minute or so he seemed to make an effort to fight it off, taking a deep breath and looking across the mak.

  "Did you hear Elizar t as his own ship?" Galen asked.

  Elric had been anticipating those words from Galen since last night.

  "I saw it."

  "Kell must have believed he was ready to have it."

  "Apparently so."

  Galen tilted his head curiously, and after a moment Elric saw him realize the argument was no longer one worth fighting. Elric had made it clear he could get his ship and begin working with it after he was initiated. Since that was only a day away, the fact that Elizar had received his ship early was not an issue.

  "Where did you get that robe?" Galen asked.

  "One of the apprentices gave it to me. A gift for hosting the initiation."

  Galen walked backward, studying it, and Elric admired the robe again. Curving silver and copper cords adorned the front in a bold pattern, while within the fabric itself was woven a more intricate, subtle pattern.

  "The hyperspace currents," Galen said.

  A fairly nice job in just two dimensions."

  "Isabelle."

  Elric nodded, and Gal en fell into step beside him. Elric wasn't one for adornment, but the gift was a thoughtful one - it even had the high collar he favored - and he felt an unaccustomed pleasure in wearing it. He would not be pleased, however, to see: Galen fall into a relationship with another mage. Galen was defenseless in matters of love, as he was in so much. His life here had been demanding, perhaps lacking in the warmth of a family, but he had been sheltered, sale. His large eyes, taught to observe, hungry to learn, were open to the world, vulnerable.

  With the initiation, Elric would lose his ability to protect

  Galen. Perhaps he had done Galen a disservice in protecting him too well until now. Galen would have to face the trials of life and maintain discipline, control. In his initiate stage, he would begin to travel, to choose his own goals, to find his own place. Soon enough, he would be completely independent. He would no longer be the attentive pupil shadowing Elric's every move.

  And Elric would be alone.

  * * *

  Gowen laid the grass mats on the mak one at a time, forming a circle. He always made Galen think of a monk, for some reason-something about his serene round face, his reverent attitude toward the tech. Gowen was becoming a good healer; Galen tried to be happy for him.

  Galen had a pile of mats of his own, and he laid out the other half of the circle of fifteen. He had felt better after talking to Elric, but he'd been reluctant to return to the convocation and face the others. Gowen and Carvin, at least, were treating him normally. When he had first approached them, Carvin had made a quick, sympathetic comment about training-session disasters, and then they had dropped the subject. He was grateful for that.

  Still, Galen felt uneasy and self-conscious. He had thought his spell would conjure a simple globe, at most. Instead, the energies and instabilities generated had been so great, the spell could well have killed them all. He had considered that the one-term equation might be unstable, but never that it would carry such great power. He was just thankful Elric had stopped it in time, overriding his control and erasing the spell.

  The mages had stared down at him as if he'd revealed something about himself, something horrible. Perhaps Galen's memory was inaccurate. The conjury had been so startling, intense, and the override so disorienting, that he might have a distorted view of their expressions. Nonetheless, the spell had arisen out of his language, his way of thought. Did it in some way reveal him?

  It was a foolish idea. The spell had been logically derived. And as Elric had said, the power had been there. Galen had just discovered it.

  Apparently a spell needed at least two terms to be stable. The spells of other rages always translated into multi-term equations. The one-term spell was an idiosyncrasy of his language, Galen had decided, not ever meant to be conjured...

  Elric had compared Galen's discovery to the discovery of the atomic bomb. Perhaps, as the atomic bomb had beer, created by splitting an atom, the great dark sphere of energy in the training hall had been created by splitting a spell.

  Galen had no idea what exactly had been forming there. The energy had been directed, gathering into the sphere, growing darker, then fading. Whether it would have lost all coherence and degenerated into wild energies, or whether it might have ultimately formed into a stable construct of some kind like a black hole or something more exotic, he didn't know.

  If only the rages had not lost the scientific knowledge of the Taratimude. They would know what had happened. Galen laid down the last of his mats.

  "How is that?" Gowen asked.

  Hands on hips, Carvin appraised the situation.

  "That one" -she pointed at the last mat Galen had placed-

  "out just a little more."

  Galen crouched, the chrysalis pulling at him, and adjusted the mat.

  "Stop," Carvin said.

  "Perfect."

  "The brazier is off center now," Gowen said.

  Galen stepped over the mats into the center of the circle and wrestled the brazier around until Carvin and Gowen were satisfied that it was centered. Then everything was perfect.

  They had set up the Becoming on the far side of the tents from the ships, near the cliffs that overlooked the sea. The echo of the waves carried up the rocks through the clouds and mist. It was a beautiful setting, and they'd found a natural depression in the mak, forming a shallow circular bowl that was perfect for the ceremony. Tonight the fifteen chrysalis-stage apprentices would sit in a circle around a conjured fire, and each would affirm his identity as a techno-mage.

  Galen stepped back out over the mats. Razeel stood silently at the cliff's edge. The wind billowed through her oversized dress, swirled her thin, dark hair over her face. The others avoided her, as perhaps, some might now like to avoid him.

  Galen came up beside her and looked out over the cliff. As the shrouded sun descended toward the sea, the mist was growing dark. It formed a heavy blanket below.

  "I've only been able to see straight down to the sea once," he said.

  "Sight is illusion," she said, her voice richer and deeper than he would have expected.

  "The reality is sound."

  "The few times I've been away from here, I've missed that sound."

  "It is the sound of death," she said.

  Galen didn't know how to respond.

  "Would you like to go into the tents? The sound will be muted there."

  "No." Galen wondered if she really could hear the tech, as Fed had said.

  If it did speak, what wonders would it say, what secrets would it share? Such communication would be a sign of the true fusion between mage and tech, to which Blaylock aspired, but none had yet achieved. More likely Razeel just heard herself, the echo of her own thoughts.

  Elric had told Galen to check on the mages in the tent after setting up the fire circle, to see if they needed anything. The chefs and servers had been sent away for the night, all outsiders banned until the initiation in the morning was complete.

  "I must go," he said.<
br />
  "Excuse me."

  She gave no response, her face lost in windblown hair. Galen turned back to the fire circle. Fed had arrived-now that the work was done - and he stood with Carvin and Gowen. The last thing Galen wanted was for Fed to recount what had happened in the hall. Galen waved to them.

  "I have to go inside."

  Carvin nodded. Galen headed into the maze of tents. On the periphery, great tables of food and drink were laid out, meant to suffice until the chefs and worker returned the next day at high sun. The food looked plentiful and well prepared, and with such variety as Galen had only seen at previous convocations. Galen's mouth watered as he counted the hours until tomorrow, when he could break his fast. He headed deeper into the tents. The mages had adapted the tents to their needs, labeling different areas with runes and other signs. There were seminars on a variety of scientific topics, workshops on engineering techniques, roundtables on sleight of hand and other more traditional magic's, and lectures on arcane skills. Galen stopped in each tent chamber to see if anything was needed.

  What Galen remembered most from previous convocations were the unscheduled sessions that ran late into the night. As tankards were repeatedly filled and emptied, anal the air grew thick with spent energies, mages who seemed so stern and disciplined by clay laughed at their errors, argued over technique, and told the most outrageous stories of their exploits. Most of these see scions were supposed to be private, of course, so mages would create shields or illusions of walls to keep others away. Though it was only early evening, some of these sessions had already begun.

  Galen talked his way into as many of them as he could to check on the participants, fetching local brew or fried chit wings when asked. But Galen now found himself becoming quite turned around by the conjured walls and altered structure of the tents. He reached a dead end in one direction, went back in the other, only to find that, too, was now a dead end. A single conjured globe of light illuminated the truncated passage. He reached into his pockets for his sensor-pad to get a better idea of what he was facing. It was gone. He'd left it with Isabelle.