Facets of the Nether

by William C. Tracy

  “Yes. Sorry.” Sam rubbed at an arm. Between Inas missing, and Enos acting funny, and his jumbled and missing memories, he was a mess. If he could fix even one of those things he would be making progress. Instead he was adding questions to those he hadn’t answered.

  He stood straight as the majus put her small hand out, which blossomed with a white and olive aura.

  “Tell me if you can hear any of these changes,” she said.

  Sam swallowed, going slightly cross-eyed at the palm in front of his face, but listened. There was the music from the rods of material, and music from the desk and chairs in the room. He could even make out an occasional high-pitched note, like when the majus had changed the wood. But around him, nothing.

  “Well?” Majus Ayama asked. Sam shook his head and she lowered her arm, the auras fading away.

  “So you can’t hear all of the House of Healing.”

  “I wonder if there are parts of the House of Communication you are also not to be hearing?” Majus Cyrysi mused. “Yet you have been changing the nature of components I cannot hear. Each house has overlap with others, in areas where the Symphonies are similar. The House of Strength and the House of Healing are both to be having some capacity to work with plants, for instance.”

  “We’ll work on that part later, Ori,” Majus Ayama said, going back to the table with the rods on it. She picked up the one of Nether crystal. “This one has to go back to the maji researching it, so I want to focus on it.” She held it out to Sam.

  He bit his lip, but stepped forward, reaching out to take it. “What do you want me to do with it?”

  “Anything,” Majus Cyrysi said, and Majus Ayama nodded.

  “It is the one substance the houses of the maji can hear, but cannot touch. Can you?”

  Sam frowned, then looked down. There was music there, intricate chords and arpeggios so fast and tightly interwoven it was nearly impossible to comprehend, much less grasp the notes. He’d tried it before, but the song of the Nether crystal was too strong.

  That had been when he thought he was of the House of Communication.

  Sam listened to the ream of notes, like the most complex concerto, played by a master violinist, at double speed, and backwards. He reached for a note, only to have his mental grip slide away from it.

  He clenched his teeth and pitched into the stream of music. It buffeted his consciousness, too much information to understand. The Nether crystal was like…like a computer. A memory came to him, of working for technical support to pay for college. Computers like the ones on Earth were probably an alternate path from the sophistication of the ten species. However the Nether crystal… He closed his eyes, letting his focus fall completely into the object in his palm. Normally there was repetition in the Symphony. Listen to what defined a simple object for long enough and eventually its music would repeat. Here, however, the music was so fast and complex he couldn’t hear an overall theme.

  He let the room, the Nether, and his fears fall away, living in the stream of music defining the small rod of crystal. There was a theme to it, but it was evolving from moment to moment as if the song was being written, and re-written. If he could just get in advance of the music, and change where it was going…he grasped at notes, and held them for an instant, but the music slipped away.

  Sam let out a long breath, and his eyes popped open. The maji were staring at him, wide-eyed. Majus Cyrysi’s crest was sticking straight up. “What?” he asked.

  “The Nether crystal was to be changing color, just briefly,” Majus Cyrysi breathed.

  “The whole rod glowed,” Majus Ayama added, “but then it stopped. What did you do?”

  “I couldn’t change it,” Sam said, eyeing the rod. “But I held a few notes until they slipped away.” He looked back to the maji. “It’s alive, and constantly adapting. That’s why maji can’t touch it. The Nether changes its own music, directing what it will do.” He searched for words to describe what he’d felt. “It’s as if there are streams of information in the music, processed and going to different places. It’s thinking. The Nether is alive.”

  That wasn’t the best explanation, but for someone who had never seen a computer, it might serve.

  “We were knowing the Nether acted like an immense living being, but we were never thinking it is to be rewriting its music,” Majus Cyrysi mused, fingering his moustaches. “It is to be changing the state of matter in which it exists.”

  “Is that why maji can pass through columns?” Majus Ayama asked.

  “Wait—pass through the crystal?” Sam looked between the two. Majus Cyrysi’s crest was splayed flat—a sign of derision.

  “It is to be a parlor trick the maji use to make themselves feel special when graduating from apprentices to majus,” he said. “The test is to be held within the column the Spire is built against. I remember Rilan’s test well.”

  “You missed my test,” Majus Ayama said.

  Sam’s mentor raised a finger. “Yet I am to be remembering the circumstances around it very well.”

  Majus Ayama frowned, but said nothing to that. Sam hadn’t seen Majus Cyrysi stymie her like that often.

  “Then could you just walk through the wall of the Nether?” he asked.

  Both maji shook their heads. “It is to be much too thick,” his mentor said. “The Nether sustains one while passing through the relatively thin wall of the column—”

  “But it still feels like running the length of the Imperium afterward,” Majus Ayama finished. She waved the topic away with a hand. “But this is a tangent. What you discovered about the Nether crystal here, today, none of the six houses have been able to discover. This is new.”

  Oh no. I’m the different one again. Why can’t I just be normal?

  “New, yes,” his mentor said, one finger tapping his moustache thoughtfully. He switched topics. “But not unknowable. In fact, I am thinking I may be guessing what your house is, Sam.”

  Majus Ayama’s eyes were alight. “We have limited data, but I see where you’re going. He can affect the Nether. We know there have been ways in the past to manipulate it. He can change the parts of the Symphony dealing directly with the substance of things.”

  “That part is occurring in all the Houses,” Majus Cyrysi said.

  “But there are none fully devoted to it. I think you’re right, Ori.” Majus Ayama paced back and forth across the little room.

  Sam looked back and forth between the maji, his stomach tying in knots. He didn’t like the unknown. He liked old and comfy things. Still, their description felt right. He had changed the shaft of the arrow he’d found after the battle at the Dome. Since then, anything he’d changed was physical in nature.

  “What would you call it?” he asked. “My house?”

  “I believe we should be calling it the House of Matter,” said Majus Cyrysi.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Changing Places

  - The electrification of the Nether is a slow process. Because of the many different technologies already in place—the resin glowstones of the Lobath, the water-light storage of the Etanela, as well as many different light-giving Systems created and maintained by the maji—the need for pure electric lights was less than anticipated. I believe eventually, electric conduits will replace many Systems created by maji, thus relieving our order of the burden of maintaining them. Electric lights will brighten the dark corners of the Imperium and illuminate those who use them for nefarious purposes.

  From a written account by Touching Digits, Lobhl majus of the Houses of Communication and Potential

  Enos had told Majus Ayama she was going out, but not where. Her mentor had some test for Sam, and though it would help him if she were there, this was more important. She had to do this. He’d forgive her, she hoped, when Inas was back. She gripped her pants leg with one hand, bunching it up to keep her nails from digging into her palm. She paused outside the door, trying to steady her breathing. Was this what Sam went through all the time?

  She s
wallowed, and knocked.

  Rey opened the door to the apartment he shared with Majus Kheena in the House of Potential. Enos had waited until she saw the Sathssn stride away on some errand, to corner Rey. His face curled up in a sneer upon seeing her.

  “I’ve made up my mind,” Enos said.

  “Yer…yer have?” Rey took a step back, and Enos barged past him while he held the door open. She couldn’t be certain he would have let her in otherwise.

  “I have,” she said, once inside. She crossed her arms and waited until Rey pushed the door shut, frowning. “No Aridori tricks,” she added.

  “Ah, well, if yer put it that way, how can I refuse yer, eyah?” Rey screwed up his face, but Enos didn’t miss the little light of humor in his dark eyes.

  “Have you scheduled another meeting with the Life Coalition?” she asked.

  “Oy! A little louder, mebbe?” Rey said, stepping toward her. “The neighbors two down might not have heard yer!”

  Enos resisted the urge to step back, clenching her fists where they were each hidden under the other arm. Rey was—had been—their friend. If Sam hadn’t arrived, he and Inas might have—anyway, it didn’t matter now. He wouldn’t do anything to her. Would he?

  “Well?” she said, though a little quieter. “Have you?”

  “I put a crawler in Majus Kheena’s ear about it, eyah,” Rey said. “Sommat official this time, no sneakin’ about.” He held up hands as she opened her mouth. “He’s workin’ on it. It’s what he was off about before yer arrived. Best guess is a few days, though.” Rey shook his head. “Never seen anyone so eager to crawl in with them Snakeys before.”

  “Tricky Aridori, remember,” Enos said, and Rey rolled his eyes. She let the silence grow for a moment. “You want Inas back. So do I. Sam needs him back. He isn’t doing well with just me. He’s still not recovered from what he did at the Dome of the Assembly.”

  She stared at Rey, then licked her lips. It was now, or she would lose her nerve, and they’d never get Inas back.

  “Use me as bait. We know they want…Aridori,” she faltered as she named herself, seeing the mixture of disgust and hatred that flitted across Rey’s face. “Tell them I can heal him. If I’m quick enough, we can take him back. My brother must get real help.”

  “Heal him? Wha’s bodged up?”

  Rey knew about them. Might as well tell the rest. “We spoke to one of the Aridori the Life Coalition had captured, when we visited Gloomlight Prison. The Aridori, they…infected Inas somehow. His hand was paralyzed, before the Coalition took him, in the warehouse.”

  Rey stared at her, his face contorting in one expression, then another. He lifted his chin, stretching his neck out as if it hurt. “I donna like Inas bein’ harmed. An’, well, yer’ve never led me wrong in the past, have yer? Lied, yeah, but I…I can see why.” He pressed his thin lips together. “Sorry about using the Symphony on yer.”

  Enos took in a deep breath, then let it out. To have to excuse her very existence was so tiring. “I accept,” she said. “I can see why you did it. We’ve all heard the stories about the Aridori. Even my family didn’t know whether they were true.”

  “I’ll grant yer some of the worst may not have been truthful-like,” Rey said, “but so many tales, hauntin’ kids for a thousand cycles, can’t all be wrong. Yer’ll have to excuse me if I don’t leap into yer arms.”

  “And what about Inas?” Enos felt her shoulders straighten as she said the words. “You want him back.”

  “Aye, I do,” Rey said. “Greatmother help me, but I have no clue why. Mebbe he can tell me why. Fella’s just so blasted likeable.”

  Enos wanted to throw the nearest object at the Sureri, to make him see she and her brother were the same. Even with different personalities, they were two instances of the same origin. The Aridori might have committed crimes in the distant past, but that was history. She would never do anything like that, and neither would Inas.

  “Now, I’ll let yer know as soon as I hear sommat,” Rey said. He stepped sideways, letting her see the door. He might have accepted her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be near her.

  Enos clenched her jaw, but walked toward the door. With one hand on the knob, she turned back. “Don’t tell Sam, please,” she said.

  “Not a word,” Rey answered.

  * * *

  Enos’ heart pounded as she and Rey approached the abandoned building on the outskirts of Low Imperium. It had taken three days to set up the meeting, as Rey had to signal the Life Coalition representative without his mentor knowing. The walls of the Nether glowed softly on their way the darkness of midnight.

  “Eyah, not a great place methinks,” Rey said, and Enos had to agree.

  “Whatever gets Inas back,” she said, reaching for the old doorknob. It looked like it might fall off on its own if she wasn’t careful.

  “Aye, whatever,” Rey agreed. He’d been skittish of her, eyeing her when he thought she wasn’t looking and keeping several arm lengths distance between them. Sam had been overprotective, when he was around.

  Enos was almost temped to spin around and shout ‘Boo!’ but the feeling of tumbling into the couch under Rey’s change to the Symphony kept her from doing so. She paused before entering the old building. “You do not regret your decision to speak with the Life Coalition, do you?” she asked.

  “Not a bit,” Rey said, a little too fast. “If we’d just tracked ‘em down and talked to ‘em, we could have avoided all this. I’m sure of it.”

  Enos opened her mouth to argue, but then shook her head. Did Rey even know when the Life Coalition first made a move? By that point it had been too late for her and Inas’ family, for Sam’s home, and for Majus Ayama’s birthplace. What was talking to them going to do? The Coalition had made up their minds long ago to race after their fabled limitless resources, no matter whether they professed peace or war, killing whoever got in their way. They were only talking with the Assembly now because the ten homeworlds were on guard against the Coalition creating any more Drains. Their plans had been revealed, and failed.

  Enos wished Sam was here. She was stronger with him. But he couldn’t know about this until it was done. He’d try to stop her.

  “Hello?” Enos pushed open the door and stepped into the dim interior of the building. If they were early and the Life Coalition contact brought Inas by way of portal, she might be able to hear some of the music defining the other end. If she was lucky, she could take that information and Inas back to the others.

  Don’t get sloppy.

  She hoped Sam would forgive her for doing this without him. He was not good at subterfuge. But when it was over, he would have Inas back, and her brother’s natural geniality would pull Sam from the funk he’d been in for the last several ten-days. She hoped.

  “You two, you are early,” came a voice Enos recognized. She looked into the darkness. She could change her eyes to adjust to the dim…

  No.

  Changing was what brought this on in the beginning. Their parents had instilled the instinct never to change shape in Enos and Inas. She had forgotten that instinct in the panic of the Drains and her capture by the Life Coalition. It had gotten easier every time. That downhill slide had all started with the cloaked figure opposite her.

  “Dunarn,” Enos called out. She let her hatred of the Life Coalition slide into the word. They knew more about her species than she did. While her family had been hiding, they had been torturing her people. “Making it your business to guard the Life Coalition’s prisoners?”

  “For this, I asked to come,” the voice said. Enos could just make out movement, though the Sathssn’s hood blended in with the shadows.

  “Yer, er, know this one, do yer?” Rey said. His voice quavered.

  “She captured Sam and me when we were separated from the rest of the group on Methiem,” Enos told him. “Imprisoned us with no explanation. No time for us to talk with them. And that was when they didn’t know about my species.” Enos realized her vo
ice was gaining in volume and tried to tamp it down.

  “Yer—yer really goin’ to play this to the hilt, Enos?” Rey said. It was the most contrite she’d heard the Sureri. “I’m thinkin’ mebbe I didn’t noodle all this through as much as I’d like.” There was scuffling behind her, as if Rey was backing away.

  She ignored him. “Where is he?” Enos called to Dunarn. Her eyes hadn’t fully adjusted. “I’m ready, assuming you kept your word. Did Zsaana see what I said about his injury? I can heal him. He’s my other instance.” She just needed an instant with Dunarn off guard, and they could escape.

  “Me, I always keep my word,” Dunarn said. “The other Aridori is here, as promised. Though him, he is not the one who needs healing.”

  “What does that mean?” Enos strained to see. Was there a shape on the ground? What had they done to him? “Inas, can you hear me?” She closed her eyes and tried to sense the connection between the two of them.

  Like an itch on the back of her neck, or a hair tickling her arm, it was there. It was weak and wrong somehow. There was a difference in him and it coiled back along their connection, reaching for her. Her head twinged, but she shook the discomfort away.

  He’s in pain. I can feel it.

  “Come closer, little one,” Dunarn crooned. “To reach your other instance, you must be closer. Near me.” It was a challenge. The pain she felt—it was not all aimed at Inas. Some was purposeful, to draw her in. They knew of the connection between instances, after all.

  But she was powerless to resist. Inas was so close. One leg moved forward, to the bunched, unconscious shape.

  “Yes. You, too, can be trained by the Life Coalition. A capable, complete Aridori trained for our arsenal. With you, unlimited energy is within our reach.”

  “Trained? Complete? What do you mean?” Her voice wavered, but still, she took a step forward. She let the Symphony of Healing cascade through her head, listening to strains of music, trying to decide what to change. She had gone against Dunarn and the House of Strength before, with poor results.