Synthesis

by Rexx Deane

  What was he supposed to be doing, visualising something?

  Duggan snapped him out of his pondering. ‘Imagine that vial of carbyne. Imagine yourself opening it.’

  Closing his eyes, he tried to visualise taking a vial from his belt and flipping the top off. He immediately imagined the powder evaporating.

  ‘Stop seeing what you expect to happen.’

  He opened his eyes. ‘How did you know I was?’

  ‘Your face wrinkled. Try to imagine opening it and the powder staying as it is. If it helps, imagine the atoms sticking together.’

  He closed his eyes again and concentrated, visualising opening the tube and, this time, seeing the powder remain without dissipating. The atoms struggled to burst apart as the surrounding air molecules buffeted them, but they held fast against the onslaught. He smiled and opened his eyes.

  ‘That’s good. Right, now we start the hard part.’

  ‘That’s not all there is to do?’ There was always a catch.

  ‘Oh, goodness, no! Visualising the outcome is just the easy bit. If magic were easy, every Tom, Dick and Harry would be running around doing it! Hold your hands like this …’ Duggan turned his palms up and bent his hands back, as though begging.

  Sebastian mirrored the gesture.

  ‘Now, press the heels of your hands onto your eyes. I expect you’ve done something like this as a child.’

  It seemed foolish, but he closed his eyes again and pressed his hands against them. Waves of bluish rippling rings surged out of the darkness towards him, just as it had when he’d done the same thing as a kid. ‘What now?’

  ‘Just wait,’ Duggan whispered.

  The rings slowly faded away. His eyes were beginning to ache. After a minute, a spattering of bright specks burst forth like a field of paparazzi. The flashing stopped unexpectedly, leaving his aching eyes dark once more.

  ‘Now, whilst you’re pressing them, imagine that scene with the powder once again. Remember to keep it present. Now, what is, not what will be.’

  Trying to will his intent into reality, Sebastian concentrated.

  ‘I won’t speak for a few minutes, but I want you to listen. Watch the images, too.’

  What did he mean? Distracted by his own thoughts, he almost lost the image in his mind, but he sat patiently, trying to hold the concept of the stabilised carbyne in his head. He tried to block out the faint sound of birds in the distance, his breathing, the faint whine of tinnitus.

  While he listened, the whistling in his inner ear increased until it became a musical tone – nothing like the piercing scream from damaged auditory nerves – and as the sound developed, a vague shape came into his mind, unbidden. The blurry image sharpened into a thick, glowing green horizontal line with squared ends. There had to be something significant about it. Something … Was it a rune, a symbol from his heritage? Isa the ice-rune, lying on its side: a representation of something motile made static. Frozen.

  Sebastian’s throat tightened, as if the realisation prompted a physical reaction. His larynx spontaneously moved and his lips parted, forming soundless words. What was happening? The images and sound stopped.

  His eyes snapped open. ‘Shit! I lost concentration.’

  Duggan folded his arms. ‘You were thinking about it too much. Just let it happen.’ He looked down at Sebastian’s neck. ‘You still don’t have faith in yourself, do you?’

  He had unconsciously brought his hand up to his necklace, the Mjölnir – his plain bronze Thor’s hammer – and was gripping it tightly. ‘I didn’t understand what was going on. It felt like someone or something was trying to speak through me.’

  ‘You don’t get it, do you? It’s your subconscious being allowed control by your conscious mind as it lets go. For me, thaumaturgy is all about intuition, something that is the very essence of the subconscious.’

  ‘So Wolfram won’t be able to learn new spells. Being a computer, he doesn’t have intuition.’

  ‘That’s not entirely true, old boy.’

  ‘No, Sebastian is correct,’ Wolfram said, the lights having extinguished. ‘A computer did not learn the spells. The secondary copy of my intelligence replicated the brainwaves and impressions from Alvarez when he experimented in the lab. It did no research of its own.’

  ‘I’m just trying to prove a point. Sebastian, what do you think intuition is exactly?’

  ‘It’s the subconscious making decisions based on evidence the conscious mind isn’t aware of.’

  ‘Yes, and where do you think that evidence comes from?’

  ‘Experience?’

  ‘Exactly. Intuition is the application of experience, whether you know it or not. I’m sure Wolfram is capable of applying experience. However, being a computer, he’ll be aware of it. It’s not something that goes on “in the background” for him, so to speak.’

  ‘You are correct. However, the requirement for learning magic therefore cannot be intuition alone. The data I have indicates that Kerl was unsuccessful in all attempts to teach the beta cube without it being connected to a Human brain, and it is impossible for me to replicate the methods in which you are instructing Sebastian.’

  Duggan circled the grove. ‘Perhaps it takes an organic mind to learn how to bring about a – what did you call it? Thaumatic, effect. Perhaps the connection to the weave that the Folians talk about is only possible for organics.’

  ‘Conjecture aside,’ Sebastian said, ‘what do you do when you’ve got those impressions?’

  ‘The first time you do it, the spell comes into effect. After that, it’s a case of simply holding the glyph that you saw in your mind, whilst you intone the sound and shape the words.’

  ‘So, what’s the point of the visualisation in the first place?’

  ‘To give your subconscious the information it needs to accomplish the task. You don’t need to do the full visualisation, or press your eyes, every time – just once to discover the spell. Pressing your eyes also helps the brain to detach from the conscious processes by distracting it.

  ‘You’ll probably need to make a note of the impressions somehow. Not to mention the words … They aren’t always in real language but, as you know from the video of Alvarez, they usually come from your own cultural background – as do the glyphs.’

  ‘I suppose I could draw diagrams and record the chants on an infoslate …’ He recalled the old journal and found himself looking from left to right as though reading from a memory.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘My grandfather. His journal was full of gibberish and symbols. Now I remember where I’ve seen that strange V symbol.’

  ‘V symbol?’

  ‘I noticed it in the John Dee book you showed me. My grandfather used to disappear off to meetings when I was a kid. Masons … It’s the Freemasons’ symbol. I thought he was into stonework … My Gods, he must have known about magic!’

  ‘Interesting. The personality type required to do magic does seem to run in families.’

  ‘That would explain why the image was a rune. Isa represents ice. It could have been the concept for solidifying the carbyne.’

  ‘That sounds promising. See? It is your subconscious providing you with the imagery. All you have to do now is allow your subconscious to form the words. Heh, well, that and master the art of throat-singing.’

  Sebastian sighed. ‘Oh yes, of course, the easy part.’

  ‘I apologise for interrupting,’ Wolfram said, ‘but you have left out the requirement for protection from the extra-spatial entities during casting.’

  Duggan slapped his forehead. ‘Of course!’

  A cold shiver ran down Sebastian’s spine. He’d put himself at risk without realising! ‘What do I do?’

  The old man paced back and forth, tapping his lips with his finger. ‘Repeat the process. This time, imagine a bubble of white light around yourself. At least that’s what Shiliri said we should do.’ He stopped pacing. ‘Actually, that’s a good point. I should try it first, just to make s
ure it works. At least we know I’m capable of magic, whereas you’re an unknown quantity.’ He sat down, pressed his eyes with his palms, and breathed deeply.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Shush. Concentrating.’

  After a minute, singing overtones, Duggan said, ‘Bí dofheicthe.’ He vanished.

  ‘Oh, my Gods!’ Sebastian jumped up and looked around. ‘Where did he go?’

  ‘I do not know. I detect no visual traces and there is no heat signature present.’

  The leaves in the spot where Duggan had been sitting were compressed. Several lifted off the ground and abruptly fell back down, and the flattened patch decompressed; two smaller depressions appeared in front of the area.

  ‘Duggan?’

  There was no response.

  Sebastian held his breath. Duggan was invisible, but was he still in control of his own body?

  ‘Shall I attempt to locate him?’ Wolfram asked.

  ‘Knock yourself out.’ He picked up a handful of leaves and braced himself for attack.

  Two loud electronic pings echoed through the clearing. ‘Ten o’clock.’

  He threw the handful of leaves. They fluttered through the air but several hung in empty space.

  Duggan’s voice came from the spot. ‘You’ve got me.’ The leaves drifted towards Sebastian as footprints appeared, heading in his direction. ‘It looks like the addition of the protective bubble to the visualisation worked.’

  ‘Thank the Gods! I was almost ready to shoot you. Did it make the images different?’

  ‘Yes. I normally see knotwork patterns when I create spells. This time, I saw a different knot added to the one I originally saw when discovering the invisibility spell. I suppose I should try to make myself visible again.’

  Duggan fell silent and, a few moments later – presumably visualising the addition of the protection – he said, ‘Nocht an dofheicthe,’ and reappeared. He looked down at himself and brushed off the leaves. ‘That works a treat! Now, I think you should try visualising for the stabilisation spell, with protection – and this time let the words come out!’

  Sebastian sat in the middle of the grove once again. He pressed his eyes and imagined the tube of carbyne stabilising while surrounding himself in a bubble of white light. In the darkness, the glowing runes slowly formed.

  The Isa rune was not alone; it intersected with another he recognised as Algiz, a rune of divinity and spiritual protection. Ironic that the image looked like a stylised tree growing from the ground – at least as much as a three-pronged stick and horizontal line could. His throat tightened, and his lips moved.

  ‘Harðna hvítt duft.’ He opened his eyes.

  Duggan clapped. ‘Very good! What does that mean?’

  ‘I think it’s Icelandic for “harden white powder”.’

  ‘Interesting. I’d say “púdar bán greamaitheach”, which means “sticky white powder”, or thereabouts. Now, how about trying to overtone? You’ll have to chant the words whilst making the sound you heard.’

  ‘Why can’t magic be easier?’

  Duggan put his hands on his hips. ‘How easy do you want it to be? You’re altering the fabric of reality!’

  He had a point. Once again, Sebastian closed his eyes and repeated the process, this time he hummed, then, once he was certain the tone was right, he opened his mouth. The words formed, but something caught in his throat. The strain on his vocal cords was strange and unfamiliar and he coughed. It would take some getting used to. He tried to overtone once again and, feeling more confident this time, began to mouth the words.

  ‘Harðna hví—’

  Someone crashed through the undergrowth. He opened his eyes.

  Tolinar stood beside Duggan with wild eyes, his chest heaving.

  ‘You must come quickly! The colonists return!’

  Chapter 42

  Duggan’s face paled. ‘No, they can’t be on their way here … We have to stop them!’ He whirled around and tore out of the clearing, dragging Tolinar behind.

  Fuelled by adrenaline, Sebastian was on his feet in seconds. He stuffed Wolfram into his rucksack and dashed through the avenue after them. ‘Are they here now?’ he gasped.

  ‘Not yet, but they have entered the system. The Hesperidium sensed their approach. You must help us turn them back. We cannot afford another collapse.’

  Duggan’s breathing was laboured. ‘Collapse? What collapse?’

  Conversation was the last thing Sebastian wanted, but Duggan needed to know. ‘When the Folians banished them, it used up carbyne from underground – so much that it caused several places to collapse, killing some of the host trees.’

  ‘I thought there were fewer voices. We’ll have to go up and deter them. I suggest taking the runner – it’s fast.’

  Sebastian stumbled over a root. He detached his foot from it and heaved himself up. ‘It might be fast,’ he shouted, ‘but it doesn’t pose much of an obstruction to a big ship like the Iceni. At least the Ultima’s got a shield, even if it is small, and it’s an official law enforcement ship.’ It wasn’t entirely true, but SpecOps was at least a branch of EarthSec. He had to be in control of the situation, and Duggan shouldn’t be in a position where he might need to harm others again – by choice, or not.

  ‘Okay, but it doesn’t mean I like the idea.’

  As the trio broke out of the trees into the grassland, Sebastian shouted, ‘Ultima Thule! Emergency override Heimdall seventy-six. Open doors and initiate pre-flight checks.’

  ‘I must return to the others.’ Tolinar headed back into the forest.

  The Ultima’s engines had already begun to heat up even as the two ran through the open airlock. Sebastian hurried up the ladder. Duggan stood at the bottom, panting.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘I’m not as young as I used to be. I’ll be up in a moment. I think I put my back out.’

  Sebastian put Wolfram on the console. Scanners had picked up the Iceni’s approach from the system’s heliosphere at near lightspeed. It was amazing how the Folians had been able to sense them at such a distance. Typing commands into the console, his fingers stumbled over each other – they’d have only a few minutes before the ship became visible and he couldn’t program the ascent vector fast enough. He prayed they’d get into orbit before it arrived.

  Duggan came up the ladder and flopped into the seat next to him. ‘I could do without all this running around. I only wanted a quiet life.’

  ‘I know what you mean.’ Sebastian pressed the final control to launch the ship. ‘Brace yourself.’

  Duggan fastened his seatbelt and pushed himself back as the ship shot upwards, pulling the occupants’ faces down.

  Moments later, the clouds peeled back to reveal the sapphire-blue sky, rapidly replaced with illusory ochre gases, and the ship exploded from the swirling mists into the star-peppered black of space.

  ‘How are you going to stop the Iceni?’ Duggan said through teeth gritted against the G-force.

  ‘I have no idea. We’ve got no weapons and— Oh shit, we don’t even have an escape pod anymore!’

  Duggan’s eyes widened to hard-vacuum proportions. ‘What?’

  ‘Pressure suits. We’ll have to put pressure suits on in case anything happens. Wolfram, how long until they get here?’

  ‘Approximately ten minutes. It is not possible to give a more accurate estimate. The Heisenberg uncertainty principle prevents the scanners from obtaining a definite lock.’

  Sebastian dragged Duggan from his seat and towards the lift. ‘Come on, we’ve got to get those suits on quickly!’

  His hands shook while he pulled on the pressure suit. Duggan fared better, apparently familiar with the design and managing to keep his emotions under control. Sebastian’s fingers fumbled on the seals and he dropped his helmet.

  Duggan picked it up and handed it to him. ‘Calm down, lad. There are still a few minutes to go. Just get this on and we’ll think up a plan.’

  ‘Has the Ic
eni got weapons?’

  ‘There are several gun emplacements on the forward section. Nothing tremendously powerful, but they’ll still pack a punch. We weren’t aware of any other spacefaring races when we left Earth, but we thought there might be native life on the forested planet that might need … deterring.’

  Sebastian finished pulling on the suit and fastened the helmet. Duggan was already on his way to the cockpit on the lift, so he followed up the ladder.

  ‘The Iceni has arrived sooner than anticipated,’ Wolfram said. ‘The ship is now within communication range and is slowing.’

  Off to starboard, the bright, silvery glint of the ship sparkled in the distance.

  ‘That thing’s enormous,’ Sebastian said.

  ‘What do you expect for a colony ship?’ Duggan said. ‘It’s got building materials, heavy machinery and living quarters.’

  ‘I know the crater it left was massive, but I never expected anything that big.’ The distance made it difficult to judge, but it would fit at least fifty or sixty rooms the size of his own quarters into it. Hell, it probably wouldn’t even be able to dock with Tenebrae.

  ‘What now?’ Duggan asked.

  ‘We hail them – try to talk them out of approaching Achene.’

  ‘Do you want me to do it?’

  ‘Yes, you know them, and my English isn’t that good. You’ll be more likely to convince them to stop.’ He activated the comms and hailed the ship using the old radio frequencies they’d be expecting, making sure he was out of view so only Duggan was visible.

  A face appeared on the display and Duggan’s expression softened. ‘Greetings, Daniel.’

  ‘Duggan Simmons … We assumed you were dead,’ Cullen said.

  Sebastian couldn’t see the comms display from where sat without exposing himself; he patched the feed through to another part of the console to watch. Cullen was roughly the same age as Sebastian, mid-thirties, maybe a little younger. How different Duggan must look to him, having aged sixty years in the interim! If Cullen was surprised, it certainly didn’t show in his voice or expression.