Eighth Fire

by Curtis, Gene

  “We were… are expecting you to explain,” exclaimed Mrs. Shadowitz, “how that weapon ended up two thousand years in the past.”

  Nick put the stun-riotous back, walked to the end of the bench and pulled a box out from underneath. He spoke as he removed the little machine. “I don’t think The Time Machine book H. G. Wells wrote was entirely fiction. He described a model he used to demonstrate time travel to his friends. I believe this is that model.”

  Mr. Young asked, “What makes you believe that?”

  Nick went to his desk, opened the book to the marked page and handed it to Mr. Young. “This machine matches the description perfectly.”

  Mr. Young held the book so the three of them could read. Occasionally they glanced at the model and when they were finished reading Mrs. Shadowitz asked, “Have you identified the type of crystal he used?”

  “It’s a silicate with some rare-earth doping. So far I’ve only been able to detect terbium and thulium, but I think there has to be more.”

  “He wouldn’t have been able to produce this crystal with the technology of his age.” Mr. Young leaned down for a closer look at the blue-brown crystal. “And in all my travels I’ve never seen or heard of anything like it. Do you have any idea how or where he acquired it?”

  “No sir, but it’s likely we’ll be able to reproduce it once we completely analyze it.”

  Mrs. Shadowitz went to Nick’s desk, picked up the phone and punched three digits. “Johan, would you come to lab room three-sixteen?”

  She put the phone down and asked Nick, “How long before you can have a working machine?”

  A working machine? He’d just begun studying the model and only had a rudimentary understanding of how it worked. Scaling it up to a full size operational machine was likely to cause some serious problems. And the model didn’t even work like it was supposed to according to the novel. It didn’t stay in one geographic location while it moved through time. While tinkering with it before he realized what it was it disappeared off the workbench when the tiny spring-loaded gear moved just one tooth. He thought he’d lost it for good only to find it the next day on the school grounds more than six miles away from the Engineering building. It had obviously fallen from some height, but its lightweight construction had kept it from being too badly damaged.

  “I don’t know ma’am. There’s a lot I don’t understand yet. Even with a team of engineers working on it, it could take months or even years to understand it well enough to make a working full-scale version.”

  “I want you to start working on it right away.”

  “Why is it so important? I mean, I know it’s important, but why is it important to do it right away? After it’s built, we’ll have all the time we need.”

  Mrs. Shadowitz shook her head. “Benrah is not an idiot. It’s just a matter of time before he realizes he’s been duped and when he does, look out.”

  “But I thought destiny was fixed. This was supposed to happen. There’s nothing he can do to change it.”

  “Destiny is fixed, but not all eventualities are destined.”

  “So Benrah can win?”

  “Many paths lead to his destiny, not all of which need be traveled. A good number of those paths, by his deeds, lead to too much suffering and loss along the way for many. Our job as Magi is to minimize that where we can by diligently working to prevent his designs.

  “He designs to prevent us from gaining knowledge from the sunstone, whatever that knowledge may be. It is therefore imperative we gain that knowledge as soon as possible. We need to acquire the power source. This time machine is the best way I can see to do that.”

  Mr. Müeller opened the door and walked in. He addressed Mrs. Shadowitz. “Ma’am, you wanted to see me?”

  She turned from Nick and walked to the bench. “It seems young Mr. Poparov here has discovered a model time machine.” She pointed at the small machine with her hand, palm up. “It is vital we have a full-scale working machine ASAP. I want you to assign teams to work around the clock on this project and since Mr. Poparov is the most familiar with the workings of this device, he will function as project lead.”

  She turned back to Nick. “Mr. Poparov, I want daily progress reports delivered to me personally by two in the afternoon.”

  Mr. Müeller went to the bench and bent to examine the device. “Amazing. This looks rather like the model George described in his book.”

  Nick asked, “Who’s George? Which book?”

  “George Wells, surely you’ve at least heard of him: The Invisible Man, The Island of Dr. Moreau, War of the Worlds, The Time Machine.”

  “You mean H. G. Wells.” Nick pointed to the book Mr. Young was still holding.

  “That’s him, only I knew him as George because that’s what my grandfather called him. H. G. was what the public-at-large knew him by, but his friends knew him as George.”

  Mrs. Shadowitz interrupted, “Perhaps you might know where he obtained this crystal?” She pointed at a small bar toward the back of the model.

  Mr. Müeller glanced up at her and then went back to examining the model. “No ma’am. I was young at the time and never imagined his books were anything but fiction. I did get to meet him a few times though since my family lived in Kent while I was at The Fourth Mountain. I never had an inkling that he was anything but a teacher and a writer. There was nothing about him that indicated he might be the least bit mechanically inclined.”

  Nick said, “Careful, don’t touch the levers. We might not be able to find it next time.”

  Mr. Mueller straightened, nodded at Nick thoughtfully and crossed to the phone. After dialing he said, “Have Whittaker, Allyn and Bacon report to lab three-sixteen, and have them pick up a locater on the way...No, the miniature kind.”

  “Mrs. Shadowitz,” Nick walked up to her. “I don’t know if it’s important or not, but with how weird everything is, I was just thinking. Mark says he has a strange feeling about the Magi cemetery. He says he hasn’t dreamed about it but every time he’s been there he gets a strange feeling like he has dreamt about it.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The Box

  Joseph Young was the last of the three to exit the cemetery’s memorial shrine. Mrs. Shadowitz and Mr. Diefenderfer looked at him questioningly. He shook his head and said, “No indication of anything that might be even remotely related to the sunstone.”

  Mrs. Shadowitz turned toward the cemetery and said, “We didn’t find anything here either. We need to examine the tombstones individually.”

  Six hours later Mr. Diefenderfer discovered an unnumbered and un-scribed stone marker. Its single distinguishing feature was a small inlaid Fairystone cross. He called the others over.

  The sun was just beginning to set when Mr. Müeller arrived at the excavated grave. He was excited to see the ancient box. “We need to get this to the research team right away.”

  “We’re going to keep this secret. No one besides the four of us is to know anything about this.” Mrs. Shadowitz handed him a shovel. “How about helping us fill this hole back in?”

  He took the shovel and began tossing dirt back into the hole. “Secret? What on Earth for?”

  Mr. Young joined in tossing dirt back into the hole. “We have an unknown traitor among us. This find is too important to risk before we have a chance to examine it.”

  “Traitor? Surely not.”

  “My good friend...it is true. Benrah has evidenced...that he knows...far more...than he could...possibly know otherwise...about happenings here. He couldn’t know more...if he were...a student here.”

  Mr. Müeller continued to look shocked. “You suspect a student?”

  Mrs. Shadowitz answered, “We’re looking into all possibilities, but to our knowledge no undergraduate student has had access to the amount and nature of the information that has been leaked.” She pointed toward the box lying on the ground. “This discovery will remain secret for the time being.”

  On first glance the missive in the b
ox, written on leather parchment, appeared to be in some ancient language. When Mr. Young picked it up the writing became legible and it was in his own hand.

  This is a decoy for anyone that may have followed us. The power source is coming. Wait for it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Classes

  For first level sophomores classes started earlier and ended earlier than last year. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays had Communications class from five in the morning until nine in the morning followed by a two hour break until Combat class started. Tuesdays and Thursdays held various other classes including elective classes. These classes started and ended at various times depending on the schedule the instructor set. Chenoa’s Aviation class started at one in the afternoon on Tuesdays for ground school and at sunrise for flight school on Thursdays. Mark and LeOmi had Beginning Rescue on Tuesday at one in the afternoon and Advanced Communications starting at nine in the morning on both Tuesdays and Thursdays.

  Communications for first level sophomores was the only class that started this early in the entire school, zero dark thirty as his dad might have said. Students sprawled on the couches yawning, stretching and obviously wishing they were back in their beds. Mark was no exception. Even the two dozen hooded instructors didn’t seem fully awake.

  Mr. Fairbanks walked briskly into the classroom, stepped onto the dais and began writing on the chalkboard. It was hard of Mark to think of his teacher as Mr. Fairbanks since last year he was just Tim, his counselor.

  Last Year: From my secret acts of kindness my power is derived.

  This Year: Acts of kindness must be for what the person actually needs.

  “Last year you were instructed to write at the top of every page in your notebooks something to the effect that your power as a Magi is derived from your secret acts of kindness. This year you will write something like this.” He tapped the chalk under the second sentence. “Failing to do so as soon as you turn the page will get you sent back to be a freshman; not only for this course but for every course.”

  Mr. Fairbanks looked around the class and saw that everyone was writing on the top of the first page in their notebooks. When everyone had finished he said, “Discerning what a person actually needs is hit and miss at best without the ability for your minds and your spirit to communicate between themselves and between other minds and spirits.

  “This year you will learn the principles and implementation of Spirit Sight, Dream Casting and Tactical Sight. These abilities are likely to be the tools you will use the most throughout the rest of your life. Some of you will become so good at it that you will not be able to tell the difference between Spirit Sight and physical sight. Spirit Sight will be taught on Mondays.” He pointed to a large overhead loft in the back of the class. “On Monday mornings you will be expected to be just waking up in that loft when class starts.

  “Wednesdays will be devoted to Dream Casting and Fridays will be devoted to Tactical Sight; both of which are directly related to Spirit Sight. There is no requirement to wake up in the loft on Wednesdays or Fridays, but you’re certainly welcome to if you choose.

  “You may have heard something about the old techniques used to teach Spirit Sight. Forget what you heard. This year I will start using the new teaching method developed at the Fifth Mountain for Australian students. They have had better success with it than the traditional methods and have shown that it can reduce the time for developing rudimentary skills from about six months down to six weeks and in a few cases down to two weeks. That means that we can devote more time and effort to developing this skill into something a bit more useful. So, let us get started. Lights please.”

  No sooner had he said it than the lights in the room went out. It was pitch black.

  “One of the more difficult issues that delayed students in the past in learning Spirit Sight was their inability to recognize and focus on what they were seeing in the spirit world and differentiate that from what they were seeing from their minds eyes. In front of you now your instructors are setting some objects on the coffee table. Among these objects is a set of instructions. You are to read the instructions and complete the task indicated. You will not use any source of physical light that you may have with you. When you have done that you may leave the class for the day.

  “I know you are thinking at this moment that this may be impossible to do, and it may be for some, but I doubt it. In a couple of minutes there is going to be a strobe flash. The flash will happen randomly between every thirty seconds and a minute. What you need to do is be looking straight at the coffee table when the flash goes off while holding your eyes perfectly still and not blinking. A negative image will form on your retina and persist for a few seconds if you continue holding your eyes still and not blinking. You’ll then be able to position yourself to read your instructions and perform the task. One of your instructors will tell you when you have successfully completed the task and then you may go.

  “This technique has been most helpful in making it easier for students to identify the type of vision they are looking for when first starting out. Okay, start the strobe.”

  It was still pitch black and Mark wasn’t sure that he was staring directly at the coffee table, just in the general direction. The strobe flashed. He concentrated on holding his eyes steady. The image started to form and he blinked. The image was instantly gone but he had seen enough to let him know the paper with the instructions was right in front of him and he needed to look down a little.

  The strobe flashed again. When the image formed he saw that he had his vision oriented just above the instructions. He also noticed that he could see other students off to both sides as well as see objects on the table. He inadvertently shifted his eyes to look at the objects. The image vanished.

  This time he was looking directly at the paper when the image formed. In normal size letters the message read, ‘Place the peacock in the circle below.’ There was a two inch circle on the bottom of the page.

  Carefully not moving his eyes he noted about fifty little figurines standing across the area of the table he could see. None of them looked like a peacock. He blinked and turned his head left to wait for the next flash. The next image showed the torsos of several students standing around the table. The peacock was not in the image he had. The next image revealed several more students frozen in mid-reach or mid-step as they went for their own figurine. He spotted the peacock at the far right corner of the table. It took three more flashes before he had the peacock in the circle at the bottom of the paper. An instructor touched his shoulder and whispered that he could leave.

  Jamal and Chenoa were waiting for him in The Oasis. Chenoa slid over and patted the seat beside her. Before he could slide into the booth Jamal asked, “How do you feel?”

  Chenoa looked closely at where his hair had been reattached. She couldn’t tell any difference in the way it looked. There weren’t even any scars.

  He hadn’t discussed it with any of his friends yet, but his failure with the power source was frontmost in his mind most of the time and he knew that was what Jamal was getting at. It really wasn’t a question of how he felt; he’d failed, which was both good and bad. He didn’t want to destroy it, but he didn’t want everything he’d ever loved destroyed either. There was no doubt in his mind that Benrah would make good on that threat. The question was really about what he was planning to do next, and he wasn’t planning anything.

  Nick and LeOmi joined the group just before Mark answered. “Mrs. Shadowitz believes it was my destiny to find it, but she doesn’t know if it being destroyed will prevent them from discovering the sunstone’s secrets.”

  LeOmi laughed, “Poor baby, him sad.”

  Mark ignored her. “She says there’s a very good possibility the engineers will figure out another power source.”

  Chenoa said, “If they could make something like that, they wouldn’t have needed to risk Mark’s life or anyone else’s for that matter.”

  Mark agreed, “If they could make
it they wouldn’t have needed me to go after it, but if I hadn’t gone after it The Eighth Fire wouldn’t have been lit.”

  Jeremy walked up order pad in hand and said, “I know you guys have to be hungry.”

  The first hour of combat class was sparring with someone you’d never fought before, kind of a refresher of everything you’d learned last year. This allowed Ms. Vanmie to see who had been practicing over the summer. Mark’s opponent was Daniel Forsythe: a thin boy about his own size with very short black hair and also using a katana. Their riotous tips touched and immediately Daniel launched into such a ferocious attack that Mark was somewhat unprepared for it. His riotous almost fell from his grip but he managed to hold onto it, albeit upside-down.

  Mark found that blocking the onslaught of blows with his sword held this way felt a little awkward but was rather more effective than holding it upright. Although Daniel’s blows were fast and seemed unending Mark easily blocked every single one while expending very little energy himself. After a few minutes Daniel was obviously tired. He paused in his attack ever so slightly while looking at Mark’s shoulders trying to assess what Mark was going to do. Mark used that instant to lift his left foot a little signaling to his opponent that he was about to change his stance in order to attack. In the brief moment of Daniel’s hesitation Mark raked his riotous up his opponent’s abdomen and poked him slightly in the chest over his heart.

  Daniel was astonished, “That’s not in the book. Where’d you learn that?”

  “I didn’t learn it; I just made it up. You almost knocked the sword out of my hand. I had to do something or you would have killed me.”

  Ms. Vanmie walked up chuckling. “That technique will be taught in more detail in your third sophomore year. For now, Daniel, let me see you defend using that technique while Mark attacks.” She turned and called to the class, “I want everyone to watch this.” The class stopped sparring and gathered around.