The Pearl Diver

by Jeffrey Quyle

  He focused intently on the beam, and his hand unconsciously strayed to his belt, to wrap around the hidden crystal, while he blocked out the noisy sounds of the construction going on around him.

  “Rise,” he commanded the beam, feeling his body reach for the strength to project the word and project the power with it.

  His free hand was in front of him, straining to lift itself up in union with the beam.

  The beam began to shiver, then the left end began to lift, raising a small cloud of dust that shook free as the beam rose into motion. The center, and then the right end of the beam began to move as well, and Silas focused on evening out the power he was distributing, so that the beam became level, then started to rise. It was inches above the ground, then a foot above the ground, and then a yard above the ground, and Silas knew that he was beginning to succeed.

  He felt flushed and strained. The beam was massive and took everything he could give in the way of energy. It stopped lifting and held steady. He had succeeded in one sense, but only in beginning the task, not in actually carrying it out.

  He wanted to succeed. He wanted to go back to his apartment and tell Mata what he had done, so that she would be proud of his accomplishment.

  He closed his eyes and imagined the beam rising further, under his control, with waves of invisible energy flowing from him to the beam in an unrelenting application of force.

  He opened his eyes and grunted as he tried even harder to make the beam rise.

  And then the beam began to move upward. It slowly rose, foot by foot, above head-height, then above the nearby scaffolding, then above the surrounding buildings. Silas and Cover tilted their chins upward as their heads moved to follow the changing elevation of the beam. It continued to ride atop an even and level distribution of the applied energy, without bending or twisting or suffering damage.

  Silas watched, and felt his free hand continue to rise upward as well to mirror the beam’s movement, while his other hand remained firmly affixed to his belt, grasping the powerful crystal that was making the action possible. He lifted the beam higher still, far higher, up to a level that was even with the tops of the great towers at the center of the city, and then higher still, just to be sure of meeting his goal. Once he was confident that he had reached the necessary altitude, he stopped the lift, and began to settle in for the extended period of maintaining the beam in place as Cover wanted to see.

  He felt winds begin to press against the side of the beam, and he adjusted his efforts to keep the beam steady. He knew that when it would be raised for its real installation, he would have to hold it steadily in place long enough for a construction crew on top of the building to fix the necessary attachments.

  A shift in the winds made him immediately change the direction his countervailing force was applied to, and he began to wonder if there was a way to more permanently fix the beam in one place so that it could resist the pressure of the changing winds in the upper airs. He pondered the problem, until his concentration was interrupted by Cover.

  “Silas,” he heard the voice emerge out of the surrounding silence.

  “Silas,” the instructor repeated, in a sharper tone.

  “You’ve proven that you can lift it – proven quite convincingly. You can bring it back down now,” Cover spoke in a mild tone of voice, though in the silence around them Silas could detect some humor in the understatement.

  The construction site around them was silent, Silas suddenly realized. The hammering and sawing and moving and cursing and laughing and shouting and other noises that had been so widespread when he’d entered the construction yard had ceased.

  He took his eyes off the high-floating beam momentarily to look around. Almost every person in the yard that he could see was looking up into the sky, their own tasks ignored as they stared at the beam Silas had raised up to the sky yonder. Only a few weren’t gazing with awe at the mighty object that was fixed in the sky, and those few were staring at him directly.

  Silas looked back up into the sky and began to lower the hand that was still raised high above his head, the hand that had been the conductor for the lifting operation. He began to slowly lower the hand, and felt the beam began to descend as well. He watched carefully as the long object – which looked so slender from a distance – steadily dropped downward, closer and closer to the earth. It came down to the height of the buildings in the neighborhood of the yard, and then it came within the confines of the fences, slowly approaching the earth.

  He made it stop, when he saw that the adjustments he had made in the air had turned it from its original orientation, and he carefully realigned it to fit back on the cradles that awaited it in the yard. Then he proceeded to bring it back down and settled it into place.

  A pair of workers somewhere began to clap, which led to a cascade of applause moments later.

  “Silas,” Cover spoke fervently, “I let myself whisper to myself that it might be possible for you to lift one of these beams all by yourself – after all, you had made a cloud change its course!

  “But to see the ease with which you carried out the whole operation, it truly gratifies me,” Cover said. “You know, that for the rest of us, it would require at least two working together to lift a beam, with a third and probably a fourth necessary to lift it all the way, and to hold it steadily in place for the workmen to fix it in its location.

  “We’ve just taken a great step forward with your demonstration, as you can tell,” Cover waved his hand around at the receding round of applause.

  “Now, let’s head back to the Guild and call it a day. We’ll resume practice tomorrow to see if you can coax these great powers out without the crutch you seem to still need. The energy obviously flows through you, and we just need to convince you to let it out,” he said. He began to walk away, and Silas followed, receiving pats on the back and shoulder from those he passed while they walked.

  They returned to the yard the next day, accompanied by a pair of Movers, who watched Silas’s success in lifting the beam.

  “Everyone agrees that you’ve moved our timing forward,” Cover told Silas on the return to the Guild. “Tomorrow we’ll put crews in place on the top of the towers and lift the first two beams up into position so that they can bolt them where they belong.

  “After that, the other set of beams will be finished, and we’ll set those in place. And then, the day after that, we’ll attach the platform atop the whole arrangement. We should finish the job with three days to spare,” Cover opined smugly.

  The following day became a holiday for the Guild, as the members prepared to watch the raising of the two beams together. Silas lifted one beam, while a team of four, led by Riesta, lifted the other, and virtually every resident of the Guild halls came to watch the project carried out.

  The two beams began to rise simultaneously, bringing cheers from the crowd. Silas focused on his beam, maintaining evenness in the application of power so that it stayed in a perfectly horizontal position as it climbed through the sky, then began to slowly drift to the east as it went, moving along the pre-planned course that would take it to the center of the city, where it was destined to serve its purpose.

  Silas began to walk behind the beam, using the city streets to track it on its journey, so that he could maintain close visual contact with the piece of equipment. He watched the beam exclusively, occasionally bumping into or tripping over impediments along the way, while he was part of a migration of Movers and construction workers who needed or wanted to be close to the setting of the beams into place.

  Silas watched as they approached the buildings in the center of the city. The winds seemed to swirl with greater intensity around the high buildings, which caused Silas to slow down his beam so that he could carefully lodge it in the appropriate location. He could see the small figures of the men and women who waited atop the buildings, ready to carry out their duty of securing the beam in place.

  As he focused on the movement of his beam, he realized that the se
cond floating beam was coming into his field of vision and was drifting close to where he was holding his beam in the air, waiting for workers to scurry out of his way.

  “Marrene, move your end to the north!” Riesta’s voice called sharply.

  Ovail, help her!” Riesta raised her voice.

  “No!” she shouted, as the beam began to spin. “Go north! North! North, not south!”

  Silas urgently lifted his beam one hundred feet into the air, above the chaotic movements of the other beam, as it pivoted crazily, then moved in a rush toward the top of one of the towers. Workers were suddenly running frantically, trying to get out of the path of the unpredictable projectile.

  The end of the beam swept across the corner of the building, and struck a worker, flinging the woman out into the air off the building. Silas heard her scream as she began to plummet down into the canyon between the buildings.

  Without thinking, he split his powers into two streams. “Catch her!” he muttered, and the woman suddenly stopped falling, as if she had landed in an invisible midair net.

  He lifted her quickly upward, only to realize that the other beam was still unpredictably careening beyond the control of the other Movers, threatening to damage the buildings as well as harm the workers and destroy itself.

  “Cease!” Silas shouted again, reaching out to grasp the beam with another portion of his own energy.

  The runaway beam froze in place, shivering as his powers contended with the uncoordinated efforts of the others. In the meantime, his own beam began to lazily descend, as his reduced flow of attention to it no longer held it aloft.

  “Silas, what are you doing?” Riesta shouted. She was close by, and didn’t need to raise her voice, but fear and shame were running high among all the Movers involved in the project.

  Silas swiftly lifted the rescued worker onto a random roof top and released her, then focused those powers back on his own beam, so that it maintained it altitude.

  He had both beams under his tenuous control.

  “All of you release your beam!” he shouted. He was on his knees, he became vaguely aware, one hand clutching his belt with a white-knuckle grip as he unconsciously tried to squeeze more ability out of the hidden crystal charm.

  His own beam was starting to drift in the breeze, until he refocused on it and moved it directly to where it was supposed to go. He stationed it across the gap between the two buildings it was supposed to bridge, then lowered it and released it, letting it clang dully into place.

  Crews of works rushed towards it, as Silas focused all his remaining attention on the beam he had seized control of from the others. He raised it high above the buildings to remove any immediate opportunity for it to further wreck the operation, then he repositioned it above the two further buildings it was supposed to connect, and he lowered it so that it hovered just a few feet above its intended position.

  “Let it straight down, gently,” he heard Riesta’s voice speak softly in his ear, and he realized that her hands were on his shoulders, gripping him as she watched the drama above the city unfold.

  Silas did as she directed; he could see workers rushing towards the beam to grab it and try to guide it as it came within reach. He lowered it further but felt himself growing dizzy. The beam appeared from a distance to be in place, and he knew he couldn’t exercise his overtaxed efforts any longer. He released his use of the telekinetic power, then pitched forward into unconscious darkness.

  Chapter 19

  When Silas awoke, he found that he was lying in bed in a dim room.

  “Mata?” he called groggily. The room was his own; the bed was the bed he shared with his pearl-diving companion.

  After a moment of inactivity, Riesta’s face poked in through the doorway and stared at him speculatively for a moment.

  “She stepped out this morning for a bit, but she’ll be back soon. Do you need anything?” the Mover asked, then stepped into the bedroom and came to stand by his bedside.

  “I’m just,” Silas paused in confusion. “What’s happening? What happened?” he asked.

  “Well, we had quite a muck-up with the beams, as you know,” Riesta began. She sat upon a stool next to the bed.

  “You managed to save the day, and save a worker, and save the buildings themselves, perhaps,” the woman speculated. “But you certainly didn’t save any energy for yourself. You passed out and have been asleep for nearly two days.”

  “Is everything okay? Are the beams in place?” Silas asked.

  “Mostly,” Riesta hesitated. “The second beam – my team’s beam – suffered some damage. But it’s been attached in place and is holding steady.”

  “How is the worker who fell?” the boy wanted to know.

  “She has some bruised ribs, but she’s healing. She’s very grateful that you saved her,” Riesta answered.

  “That’s good,” Silas nodded, then closed his eyes and lowered his head back to the pillow.

  “Would you like anything?” the Mover asked him.

  “Some water,” he answered. “And Mata. And a visit with a Speaker,” he felt an impulsive compulsion to meet someone in the city who spoke Wind Words, who could tell him some news about the world outside the city. He’d become totally caught up in the events of Faralag and his own training, and lost track of anything happening elsewhere in the world.

  “Mata will be back from the armory soon,” Riesta told him reassuringly. “A visit with the Speaker? That’s peculiar. I don’t think I’ve ever even met the Speaker; he’s in the palace, so I’m sure we could ask if you could have a visit with him,” she tried to dismiss the request.

  Mata entered the room at that moment.

  “You’re awake!” she spoke gleefully, and ran to the bed to give him a resounding kiss.

  “You taste like wine,” he murmured.

  “I had lunch with Teller again, and we had wine. You’re not jealous again, are you?” she teased him.

  “No,” he smiled.

  Riesta quietly exited the room, while Mata snuggled up beside Silas in the bed, her atop the covers while he was beneath them.

  “I asked to meet their Speaker,” Silas told her as he rested his arm atop her. “I got so caught up in life here in Faralag, I haven’t really thought about the outside world for several days.”

  “I haven’t talked to Jade in a long time,” Mata responded thoughtfully. “You’re right; it’s like I forgot about everything else outside the city.”

  She sat up. “I’m going to get the mirror and try to reach Jade.” She hopped off the bed and returned moments later with Silas’s pack in hand. The girl sprawled on the bed once again as she opened the pack and pulled the mirror free.

  They had both forgotten about the mirror during their stay in Faralag, Silas reflected. It seemed hard to imagine, given their initial desire to return to Amenozume.

  “There’s no one there,” Mata said petulantly as she stared at the mirror. “The dressing room is empty.”

  “I’m going to contact the Speaker,” Silas replied, troubled by their simple acceptance of isolation.

  “Your friend at the palace?” Mata asked in surprise.

  “I’ve never met the Speaker here before,” Silas answered in confusion. “I don’t think he’s a friend of mine.”

  “I thought you meant the palace in Amenozume,” Mata explained.

  Silas rose and walked to the window to get his bearings, to find the proper direction to face so that his message would go to the palace. He knew that he was so close, being in the same city, that his message would be heard in the palace no matter what, but he felt obligated to try to do things correctly.

  “This is Silas, a traveling Speaker of the Wind Words, addressing the Speaker in the Palace of Faralag. A Speaker visiting Faralag is addressing the Speaker of the Palace of Faralag. Speaker, this is Silas, requesting an opportunity to visit with you and learn how things fare in Faralag,” he spoke aloud, attuning his body and spirit to provide the power needed to broadcas
t his words to the distant official in the palace.

  Mata sat on the bed and observed him.

  “You’ve spoken to him. How long until he answers back?” she asked.

  “Not long, I hope,” Silas replied, standing by the window and leaning out so that he could look off towards the side, in the direction of the palace.

  There was no immediate response. The pair frittered the midday hours away.

  In the afternoon, Cover accompanied a servant who delivered a tray of food to the pair. After grabbing a bite of bread, Mata excused herself. “I want to go practice at the armory,” she said eagerly before she rubbed Silas’s head, then left.

  “You slept for two days,” Cover commented when they were alone. “You drained yourself severely.”

  “That’s what it took to get the job done,” Silas shrugged nonchalantly, feeling more uneasy than he wanted to admit.

  “It’s dangerous. You might have drained yourself so far you wouldn’t have recovered,” Cover warned. “You must stay aware of your own condition.

  “We’re not going to try to make you do anything today, but I hope you’ll be able to move another beam tomorrow,” Cover’s statement was accented as a question.

  “I should be able to move one tomorrow,” Silas agreed cautiously. “Who’s going to try to move the other beam?”

  “We feel that it’s best that henceforth you be the only one to move the beams for this project,” Cover answered. “Riesta couldn’t overcome the incompatibility among the team of four trying to work as one.

  “Would you be willing to do it? It’s a terrible burden to put on one boy,” Cover acknowledged.

  Silas considered the request. He hadn’t found his beam to be especially burdensome to move when he hadn’t faced the instability and worry of the other beam.

  “I can do it,” he agreed. “At least I can try.”

  “Good!” Cover agreed. “Let’s do something rewarding for a change.” He stood up and looked towards the door.

  “What did you have in mind?” Silas asked tentatively. He wasn’t sure that he was going to agree with the instructor’s definition of rewarding.