by Damon Alan
Merik left and headed toward the main exit. It was not long before screams echoed through the stone passageways as her adepts found the occupants of the monastery. Since the destruction of her palace the bulk of her adepts were forced to stay at inns, rent rooms from private citizens, or wherever they could find shelter. She intended to head straight to the temple of Faroo, kill his priesthood, and set up her new palace in the main temple. She could think of no better statement to both common man and adept.
She was, and would be for the rest of her life, the greatest power on Nula Armana.
On the way out of the monastery, Merik burned or froze half a dozen monks or priests. They were powerless to stop her, they didn’t share her gift. The gift. Merik passed a statue of Jalai, and pushed it off its stand onto the floor. It broke into dozens of pieces, and Merik stood over the shards. “If my power is truly a gift, take it from me. Take it from me, you bloated whore.”
She paused for a few moments, waiting.
“I didn't think so.”
Merik stormed out of the building, and approached her guardsmen waiting outside. “Round up all the adepts in town. Tell them they have until my patience runs out to be here.”
Several guardsmen paused a moment, then raced off to do Merik's will. The watch captain stood in front of Merik, and dropped to one knee. “We heard screaming coming from within the monastery, Master Merik, and we were on our way to make sure—”
“Everything is fine, Guard Captain, never better.” Merik smiled, and urged him to his feet. “Things have changed here tonight.”
“I sensed as much, Master Adept.”
Merik reached out and rested the palm of her hand on the soldier’s cheek. “Your name?”
“Seraphit, Master Adept.”
“Captain Seraphit. As I read your mind, I see your loyalty to Zeffult. You believe in the gods?”
“Honestly, Master, that's not a question I was hoping to ever be asked by an adept. I joined the guard because I—”
“Because you have no use for the gods. I know.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Don't worry, Captain. You're exactly what I'm looking for. What is the rank above guard captain?”
“There isn't one, Master Adept.”
“Then we will make one. Because you'll need it.”
“Master Adept?”
“You're going to lead my troops. I need someone who doubts the gods, fears me, and will do as I command. That's you.”
The guardsman stood. “I think the world just changed in some very big way,” he said with reverence.
Merik looked up at the massive disk of Jalai above her, Merik’s expression a mask of hatred. “Change has only just started, guardsman. Mark my words.”
Chapter 29 - A Long Reach
28 ORS 15327
Peter sat hunched over a small workbench in the cargo area of shuttle 43B. The bench served as a small machine shop, able to fix ground vehicle parts, exosuits, guns, or various equipment. Peter adapted the bench to serve as his lab. He performed experiments with Alarin and Eislen to determine the nature of the power they used, and how they manipulate the world around them.
Alarin spent time training Eislen as he promised, and Eislen seemed eager to learn.
Tomorrow marked the middle of the second week the three men spent together on the shuttle. Nerves wore thin and sponge baths were getting old, but Peter finally managed to set up his experiment station the way he wanted it. He planned to remain on the shuttle a few more weeks. Every three or four days an AI piloted supply shuttle arrived with food, new holovids, supplies for the air scrubbers and clean clothing.
“You say the pictures you show me, these holovids, you’re not spying on someone?” Eislen asked.
“No... Eislen, don't you have drama on your world?” Peter replied.
“Drama?”
“I will explain drama, Peter Corriea,” Alarin offered. Alarin was learning Galactic Standard at an unimaginable pace. Peter suspected Alarin was filching much of it from Eislen’s brain, although clearly not the word ‘drama’.
“Please do.” Peter screwed a flat metal plate onto his drone control panel. He’d finished construction on an AI controlled system that would send his drones to anyplace within the Oasis system. It took some serious effort to convince Captain Dayson to give him an AI and even more to convince her to let him spend antimatter to operate one of their few FTL drones.
Eislen and Alarin chatted about drama, about pretending to play a part.
Eislen argued that with the raising of animals and farming, there wasn't time for much else. “Who feeds these people who pretend instead of working?”
“Whoever buys their holovids,” Peter replied.
“They should be made to raise food instead,” Eislen said.
“In my world citizens have rights, Eislen, a list of rights set forth to limit our governments. One of them is the freedom to choose your own path in life, the right to do what makes you happy. Most worlds have similar charters. That type of thinking stretches back to before Nula Armana was even settled.”
“You have more than one government?” Eislen asked.
It was interesting that Eislen would pick up on more than one government instead of the idea of freedom. “Of course, most planets have one government running it, and local areas have their own government... well, it does sound a bit excessive if you go into all levels I suppose. Especially if you throw in the Alliance as a form of loose government...”
“Who feeds all these leaders?”
“Why does it always come down to food?” Peter scratched his head. “Don't you want to know about atoms or something?”
“Of course I do, Peter Corriea, but I can only learn one thing at a time,” Eislen replied. His Standard was really good.
“Today we're going to discuss science. I'm tired of discussing toilet paper, socks, government, the fact that what you see in holovids is not happening right now, and no, we don't have to stop and hunt food so we can put meat in our meal packets.”
“Meat comes from animals,” Alarin asserted.
“Oh no, you're not roping me into this again,” Peter said. “Look, see all these screens I've set up?”
Both men nodded.
“That one is showing rocks,” Eislen said. “Are they in a drama?”
Peter stared in disbelief. “Eislen. No questions for now. No, they're not.” It was hard to talk to both men, and even more so Eislen. He had hardly any experience outside of goat herding, other than his six months spent on Asteroid Farm One with Malco.
Malco must have the patience of a mother.
“Eislen, the Third Script of Wisdom says that it's a wise man who asks questions, but a wiser man who knows when to listen so that his questions might be answered,” Alarin offered.
Eislen started to speak to Alarin, but realized his folly. He folded his arms and turned toward Peter.
Peter smiled his thanks at Alarin, then turned on his freshly assembled drone control panel.
“Okay, Alarin, Captain Dayson has loaned me two scout drones to use for my experiments. I'd like to see if you can follow them and detect them. Put this helmet on, it will scan your mind and relay to Dr. Jannis how your brain works during this process.”
“As you wish, Peter Corriea,” Alarin said. “My brain will not be harmed?”
In ways Peter felt like he was talking to children. Alarin was a leader among his people, and from what Peter was coming to understand, a very moralistic person. Teaching such a man things most kids knew by the time they got to primary school was an odd sensation.
“No, it won't. This may teach us some things we need to know to combat Merik.”
“I see. Then give me the hat.”
Peter handed the helmet to Alarin, who put it on his head. The helmet autosized to fit, and Alarin ripped it off in a hurry.
“It’s just adjusting to fit you, Alarin. Please put it back on,” Peter said.
“Where I am from, things that move on their own
do not go on your head,” Alarin replied as he placed the helmet back on.
“Are you ready?” Peter asked.
“I am,” Alarin said, tapping at the helmet. “It did a good job. It’s very snug.”
“Sit down in the chair. Keep your hands at your side, and only move your head. In a moment you will see a red dot appear on the wall, from this,” Peter said, touching a computer controlled laser pointer mounted on top of the drone control system. “I want you to look at the red dot on the wall.”
“I’ll do that,” Alarin replied, then paused with a confused look on his face. He scratched the fourteen days of hair growth on his chin. “Why will I do that?”
“Because I'm going to have the drone drop back into realspace at that point, and I want you to tell me if you can see the demon,” Eislen replied.
“I don't want to see a demon,” Alarin said, aghast.
“Me either!” Eislen exclaimed, fear on his face. “I still have nightmares about the demon from where you fixed me.”
Peter sighed. “The demons are on the drones, far away. If you look at the red dot, you'll see it in the distance. It will never be close to us.”
“As you wish, Peter Corriea, but demons are dangerous. That is the word of the priests,” Alarin stated.
“In this case they're right. Nothing is more destructive than a singularity. But we have tamed this type of demon, at least partly,” Peter offered.
“Or they have allowed you to think so,” Alarin suggested.
“The dem...” Peter started to reply, but was interrupted.
“Drone drop to realspace in twenty seconds,” the drone control AI stated.
“I don't like when your boxes talk,” Eislen said. “Boxes shouldn't have souls.”
“Boxes don't,” Peter said.
Eislen looked at him skeptically.
“Have the test subject look at the indicated position now, from the designated viewing position,” the AI instructed.
Peter pointed at the hull of the shuttle. “Alarin, follow the dot.”
The red dot swept a few centimeters along the hull, and Peter watched as Alarin's eyes tracked it. He recorded the brain wave patterns for Dr. Jannis.
“Five, four, three, two, one,” the AI counted down.
“By Tsungte, I see it,” Alarin bellowed excitedly as he clapped then wrung his hands. “Peter Corriea, you have tamed that demon!”
“It's not by Tsungte,” Peter said, puzzled.
“It's an expression. Tsungte is the guardian of... he keeps the dark things away.”
“Oh... What do you call the rocks nearer to Faroo?” Peter asked.
“There is Demarra nearest to us, she is the goddess of things lost, and Skuld, goddess of children,” Alarin said. “Faroo keeps the protector of children closest to him, to see to her well being and success.”
Eislen nodded in agreement.
Peter thought a moment. “Okay. Then the demon is near Skuld,” he finally said. He reached over and turned on a power switch, and a large hologram appeared in the center of the shuttle cargo area. “This is a view from the drone, of the dark side of Skuld. Can you sense it?”
Alarin smiled deeply, his eyes lit with amazement. “I can. My mind sees the demon, then the gentle droop of space away from it to Skuld. That droop lays within an elegant bowl created by Faroo. Skuld shares her information with me, but it must rise from her slope and out of the bowl of Faroo who tries to grab it. I’ve never touched Skuld before, Peter Corriea. This is a great gift you give me.”
“Can you also see Faroo?” Peter asked.
“I can, he screams “I am here! I am here!” like a caller at a summer fair. All adepts are touched by Faroo.”
Peter pointed to a monitor, it showed an image of rocks in darkness, on a barren landscape. “Alarin, I want you to focus on the boulder the drone has zoomed in on. It's on the night side of Skuld, forever hidden from Faroo. I want you to give some of Faroo's heat to that rock,” Peter explained. “Can you do that? Do I understand the process correctly?”
Alarin tilted his head a moment, looking at Peter curiously. “Of course you do, Peter, it's simple, I've explained it to you before. Asking again will not change the answer.” On the screen the boulder began to glow red, and gas streamed away from the nearby surfaces as small traces of volatile ice vaporized. Within seconds the boulder collapsed into a puddle of orange liquid, then flowed along the ground. The molten mass settled into a low spot.
“Yes!” Peter exclaimed.
“I have never touched that material before, Peter Corriea. It is very thick,” Alarin said.
Peter checked the spectrographic data streaming in from the drone. “That's iron, Alarin, something Nula Armana doesn't have much of, and is the reason your people no longer have machines like mine.”
“Iron. In my language that means lost. Maybe there is a reason,” Alarin replied.
“Maybe, but it's not lost any more. If we can come to peace with your adepts, I'm sure Captain Dayson will trade iron with your people. Along with a lot of other things,” Peter said.
Alarin looked at Eislen. “The priests have been saying this is a time of change. They seem to always know.”
Eislen nodded. “They always do.”
“Alarin, what do you know about light?” Peter asked.
“It is a thing that all of the universe sends to all other parts of the universe. Our eyes see the light and tell us where things are, but our minds see the essence of light, and it can share with us the nature of where it came from,” the adept replied.
“You and I are going to need to explore that more as well, but you do have an understanding of light, and that's important. Light has a speed at which it travels, you're aware of this?”
“I haven't given it much thought, but that feels right to me,” Alarin said.
“Your effect on the boulder has no such limit. Like Einstein's spooky action at a distance, it's instantaneous.”
“Spooky?” Alarin asked.
Peter started to explain, but stopped. “Nevermind, Alarin, I'll explain that someday, the important thing is that once you see something, you have no delay in affecting it. How did you find the boulder?”
“It was on that picture,” Alarin answered, pointing at the monitor.
“No, but it's really over there, millions of kilometers on the other side of that red dot,” Peter said. “How did you find it?”
“I’m sure kilometers are very far,” Alarin answered. “My mind searched along the path the red dot showed me, and when I touched it with the gift I could feel it was the same rock as the one my eyes saw.”
“That's fantastic.” Peter barely contained his excitement. “Some information in light lets you know when you're mentally touching the matter you see with your gift. This will take years of study to figure out, if not decades.”
“Your demons, they do not share light, they consume it,” Alarin said. “They do, however, share other things.”
“You detect the other particles?”
“If by particles you mean the essence of what the demon is. That's not exactly correct either. The fabric of the universe is torn by the demon, and only part of that fabric escapes. I feel that essence streaming away from your demons.”
Peter nodded his understanding. “I think what you’re saying is black holes evaporate.”
“Demons are black holes?” Eislen asked.
Peter laughed. “Yes, they are,” he said. “The important thing is that we know that with technology, we can reach out a lot farther than just what your eyes can see. Your gift could be a very powerful weapon, Alarin.”
Alarin's shook his head and his voice assumed a teaching tone. “It's not given as a weapon, Peter Corriea. It's given by the gods to preserve and serve the people.”
Peter had momentarily forgotten the nature of the man he was speaking to. “Sorry, I didn't mean to offend.”
Alarin looked puzzled. “I’m not offended. I want you to show me how to better se
rve my people,” Alarin said. “And, if you do, I’ll be in debt to your people. I’ll help you in any way I can.”
“Then we should keep experimenting, and see what else we can do together.” Peter said, removing the helmet from Alarin's head. “But first let's report to the Captain and see what she thinks about it.”
Captain Dayson was impressed. Twelve days later Peter, Malco, Alarin and Eislen moved into a mobile science station Captain Dayson ordered set up on the surface of Ember’s fourth large moon.
Research began in earnest at the research station christened The Outhouse by the building crew of the Fyurigan. Once Peter arrived, he understood why. The moon’s atmosphere was mostly ammonia, and the smell permeated everything.
Maybe Outhouse was fitting, but it was just a name. He had work to do.
Chapter 30 - Captain's Personal Log
28 ORS 15327
AI Lucy82A recording, Captain's personal log, Michael Stennis archive: Galactic Standard Date 10:38:25 Ors 28, 15327
Personal log entry #771, Captain Sarah Dayson, origin Korvand, Pallus Sector.
Current Location: Star System Oasis, orbiting Fandama.
Peter Corriea reported on his successes today. I’m setting him up with a mobile science base so they'd have a place to study the fifth force phenomena. Peter’s name for whatever magic shit the adepts are throwing at us. I’m assigning Malco Vander to go along and teach an AI the local language while he keeps an eye on our guests.
I'm not sure Peter’s plan will work out, but when I saw some of the video Peter sent to me, I think it's worth a try. Alarin seems to be cooperative, and I'm trusting him a bit more. He's helped Peter a lot. From what I can tell Eislen spends more time getting in the way than being useful, but I can’t send him home without knowing he’ll be safe.
With Malco available to run interference Peter says he'll be able to pick up the pace of his research.
[music, Haverrmann's third concerto in B minor begins playing softly.]
I feel like a rat in a cage, stuck here orbiting Fandama while Lieutenant Corriea and Commander Gilbert are off conducting fleet business. I haven’t talked to Gilbert since right after he departed for Refuge. I’m finding I miss him. A lot.
