by Jean Lorrah
"We will," Lenardo said softly. "You are tired, Master. After you have rested we will talk—"
"No—there's not enough time. The reason I had to come is that I have Read the whole length of the earthquake fault. We must get all the people you will use to disarm it into the empire before the Emperor masses the army at the borders. I don't know how to prevent them from being trapped, though—there is so little time. Men are being conscripted throughout the land. In only fifteen days, the march will begin, from Tiberium. There will be a grand parade, with the Emperor reviewing the troops in the forum as they set out on the glorious campaign—"
"Fifteen days!" exclaimed Lenardo. "The Emperor on a reviewing stand in the forum?"
"No!" gasped Torio. "We thought we had over a month yet!"
"What?" asked Master Clement as he and Decius looked around at the faces staring in surprise and horror.
"I thought it was the Summer Festival," exclaimed Lenardo, "but it could be the day the Emperor reviews the troops. The earthquake! In only fifteen days!"
Chapter Eight
Torio sat in the early morning sunshine in Lenardo's courtyard, the calm eye in the storm of activity going on within the household and throughout the city of Zendi. Despite the hour, Torio was by no means the first one up; Cook's crew had already been cleaning up after other early risers when he had eaten breakfast almost an hour ago. Now he was studying the map of the earthquake fault.
The map was not in the courtyard, but drawn across a series of wax tablets laid end to end down the middle of the table in the dining hall. Torio had no need to be in the room to Read it. Besides, he had it memorized.
The dining hall was becoming crowded now, people who had already eaten staying to study the map while new people arrived, hungry and eager to join the activity. Cook's assistants shooed the newcomers to trestle tables along the edges of the hall. Torio frowned at his break in concentration, and returned to studying the map.
A familiar mind touched gently at the edge of Torio's consciousness, not intruding. //I am in the courtyard, Master Clement.//
The old man hardly appeared the same person as yesterday. It was not merely that he was rested, and dressed in the imposing scarlet robes of a Master
Reader. He moved differently, freely. It was the first time in Torio's memory that he had Read his teacher without the chronic ache of rheumatism.
Master Clement said, "I brought no Master's robes, but these were laid out in my room when I woke."
"They're Lenardo's," Torio explained. "He had his seamstress hem them up for you."
"My clothes may have a mundane explanation, but I don't. I am not surprised that I overslept—I was on the road for five days, with very little rest. Yet not only am I not stiff and sore today—I feel twenty years younger! Where is your sword, Torio? I think I'll get back into practice. Did you know I was once accounted as fine a swordsman as you are?"
Although the old man was teasing now, Torio knew that in a few days he might actually be capable of wielding a sword again. So he replied, "I know Master. I would be honored to practice with you… until the day we no longer need swords."
"As long as people are people, that day will never—Oh. You mean until all Readers master Adept powers, Torio?"
"It is obviously possible," replied Torio, "although I have made no progress whatsoever."
"Aye—it is a frightening prospect. Yet think of being able to heal people as you were healed." He touched Torio's shoulder. "Even as simple a thing as easing my rheumatism is a blessing. I did not realize how much pain I had grown used to, until I found it gone."
"We'll heal more than the pain," said Torio. "Each night our healers will set your body to healing again until the swollen joints are back to normal, all restrictions gone. It will take several more nights—but we need you awake in the daytime to help with our plans."
The old Reader stared at his twisted hands. "Is it possible—?"
"Any of the Lords Adept can do it."
"This I must learn," said Master Clement.
"Melissa is learning it very quickly. She studied surgery at Gaeta—and is only too happy to abandon it in favor of Adept techniques."
"Melissa I met last night, and Rolf, who has learned to Read. Are there any others?"
"None but Lenardo and Aradia. What we need at this moment are more Readers—you and Decius increase our number by a third!"
Decius joined them in the courtyard. Wakened by the increasing noise level in the house, the boy had thrown on his clothes but not bothered to fasten on his artificial leg. He was using the crutch he preferred to the peg leg most of the time. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then tried to apologize, but Master Clement said, "You have nothing to apologize for, son—you've certainly earned your rest after that long journey."
Back at the Academy, Torio had been greatly relieved to observe Decius' adjustment to his injury—once over his shock, the boy had taken it as a challenge, relearning everything he had ever done, including riding a horse. The only skill he had been unable to recover was swordsmanship. At Decius' insistence, Torio had worked with him as soon as he was fitted with the artificial leg—but the rapid weight shifts and lunges of swordplay irritated the stump of his leg more than any other activity, and he could not stand the long hours of practice.
As Master Clement went on ahead, Torio told Decius, "Go eat breakfast, then put your leg on and I'll give you a lesson in swordplay. I'll bet you haven't practiced since I left the Academy."
"There's no teacher, with you and Master Lenardo gone," Decius replied. "But I can't wear my leg today, Torio. I've had it on for five days, to balance me on a horse and so I could walk if necessary and not have one arm busy with a crutch. I'm too sore—"
"Are you? Did you Read yourself this morning, Decius?"
The boy Read the stump of his leg, then asked, "How did you do that? as he discovered the bruises and blisters healed, and the scar tissue smoothed over permanently.
"I didn't do it, but I helped Lord Wulfston, after you were asleep. Did you notice how light Master Clement's steps are today? Lenardo and Aradia worked on him."
"This is wonderful!" said Decius. Then, "Torio—you don't have to convince me that I belong here. I trust Master Clement—when he said to come with him, I came."
"That's how I got here, with Master Lenardo—you'll have to learn to call him Lord Lenardo now. Read around you, Decius. Things may be far from perfect here, but nobody will try to stop you from being everything you can."
"Uh… you haven't learned—?"
"No—but Lenardo has. Melissa has. Aradia and Rolf have also learned to Read. Maybe you'll be a Lord Adept, Decius."
The boy considered that. "Could I grow a new leg?"
"No more than I could grow new eyes," Torio replied, "but you can learn to heal wounds, or to defend yourself so you don't need a sword."
"I'll learn," said Decius. "Why haven't you learned, Torio? You're no older than Melissa."
That was an interesting point. Rolf and Melissa were close to the same age—young, still in the growth of their powers. Lenardo was a Master Reader, but young enough that he could expect his powers to grow for a few more years; Aradia was Lenardo's age, Wulfston a few years younger. Torio filed the thought for later examination, and while Decius followed Master Clement to the kitchen to assuage the ravaging hunger brought on by healing, he waited for Melissa, for they had an appointment to go over the fault map before noon.
The group of Adepts and Readers was now too large to work as a unit; they were working individually and in small groups, studying the map, attempting to decide where to apply pressure to allow those precariously balanced rock edges under the earth to settle into a stable position without wreaking destruction in the land above.
Master Clement had made the map by the dangerous procedure of leaving his body to travel the length of the fault, to distances beyond the safe range of even a Master Reader. That was probably the final blow to Portia's trust; he had spent hours
out of body, he told them, instead of just the few minutes at a time required to contact Lenardo. He guessed that Portia had been unable to contact him during that long mental journey, and decided it was too suspicious to allow to go unpunished.
This he had told them while directing Lenardo, Aradia, and Wulfston to create the physical map in the wax tablets. "It is fortunate," he added, "that I have many friends among the Masters. It is even more fortunate Portia has no Adept powers—else my heart might simply have stopped, and who would have questioned heart failure in an old man? But if she wanted to kill me, Portia would have had to send someone who would then have been dangerous to her."
"Do you think Portia morally capable of such an act?" Lenardo had asked.
"Six Master Readers have died in the past year," Master Clement replied grimly. "How much Portia had to do with that fact I cannot say, but she made a very serious error in keeping secret your mission to stop Galen. She has taken one action after another to cover her mistake—and since it was discovered, she is in panic. She sends people she fears into dangerous situations, hoping to be rid of them. Those in Portia's inner circle are closing ranks with her to protect themselves."
How long, Torio wondered, could the Readers hope to keep the corruption at their center a secret? According to Master Clement, most Masters of Academies, living far from the center of government, were only now discovering the true situation in Tiberium. They still hoped to clean their own house—there was talk of unseating Portia—but if she Read their threats there was no telling what she might do.
"Once it becomes public," Master Clement had said sadly, "there is no hope that Readers will be allowed to continue self-government. Our first priorities must be to prevent the destruction of the empire, and stop the war—but next we must bring the best young Readers out of the empire, before either Portia's schemes destroy them or the government virtually enslaves them."
Torio was alone in the courtyard, lost in thought, when Melissa came to find him. "I thought you never stopped Reading when you were awake," she said, sitting down next to him. "I couldn't get your attention."
"I'm sorry. I was wondering what will happen to all the Readers in the empire once the corruption in the Council becomes public knowledge."
"Politics," she said. "I never took an interest in it—but I doubt much will happen. Senators are often corrupt—and all that happens is that when someone gets caught he's unseated. The whole Senate isn't broken up."
"Senators are expected to seek power. Readers are not," said Torio. "Melissa, did you ever hear the legend of the first Reader?"
"Of course. Nobody's supposed to know it, and everybody does. But it's just a legend, Torio—a horror story children tell to frighten each other."
"A horror story? Or a cautionary tale? If nonReaders had their way, Readers would be imprisoned, maimed, tortured to force them to work for those in power. We are simply more civilized about it. Our dungeons are the Academies—any child who shows Reading ability is taken from his family, by force if necessary, and locked up in an Academy until he is no longer dangerous."
"And the greater his powers," Melissa said in wonder, "the longer he remains there. Talk about twisting minds! Look at what we believe."
"Aye," said Torio. "A lifetime in the Academy, in isolation from nonReaders, is the ideal, granted only to those in the top ranks… keeping those with greatest power away from the temptation to use it. Readers are forbidden to hold office, and discouraged from taking an interest in politics. And those who cannot resist the lure of power—"
"Must seek it in devious ways," said Melissa, "as Portia has. Torio, we are maimed, as surely as if they crippled us physically."
"More so," he said thoughtfully. "Look at Decius. There is little his physical disability keeps him from—it didn't prevent his escaping."
"Nor you," she said, touching his face with her soft hand. "But Torio, you should see, and Decius should have two good legs. We are crippled by having half our powers denied us."
"No longer," he replied. "We know the truth now—and the more people who know it, the more they will encourage the rest of their powers. As you have."
As Melissa dropped her hand from his face, Torio caught it in his. When she pulled back, he said, "I'm sorry—"
"No," she replied, "don't apologize. I'm sorry, Torio. I'm not used to the way people touch each other here. I'm not sure what it means."
"It means friendship," he replied; it was not the time to suggest that it might mean more. "But right now, if we don't study that map as we're supposed to, we'll have a great deal to apologize for!"
The plan was for the group of Readers and Adepts to spend the day studying the map, and in the evening share suggestions for distributing their Readers so that every Adept could hear, or at least see one.
But that was not possible. Eight Readers could not be stretched almost the length of the empire. They could use watchers, but flashing lights were too likely to be spotted. Moreover, it took precious time for a watcher to read a signal and pass it on—time they would not have while trying to control immense forces of nature.
A frustrated assembly gathered around Lenardo's table that evening, after a meal at which even the Adepts had eaten little. "In some areas" Rolf pointed out, "the fault line runs almost under the main road through the empire. Those of us with lesser powers have to be close, or we can do nothing. I know I'm going as a Reader, but I know the limitations of minor Adept talents."
"We must have people right along the road," said Aradia. "And here, where the land is flat for long stretches, where do we place watchers?"
"At least the troop movements will obscure the fact that so many strangers are wandering along the roads," said Master Clement.
"But half the minor Adepts are women," said Melissa. "We can't disguise them as soldiers."
"What about dressing all the women as Readers?" Torio suggested.
"No," said Melissa, "not in white—they'd be sure to be caught out by other Readers. But ordinary clothes and badges—the Sign of the Dark Moon!" And as she spoke the words, all the other Readers around the table felt Melissa's inspiration. "That's it! That's where we can get other Readers! The Path of the Dark Moon!"
"What?" asked Lenardo and Master Clement together.
"You Master Readers—you pay no attention to your old friends who were failed," she replied, "but they're all over the empire, working as Readers in minor capacities."
"But child," said Master Clement, "why would they help us? That would be betraying their own people."
"I have a close friend," said Melissa. "Alethia won't betray me, even if she refuses to help. Let me try."
"Where is she?" asked Torio.
"Gaeta. I have never gone so far out of body—"
"Torio," said Lenardo, "can you guide Melissa safely, or shall I?"
"I've Read Gaeta with you," Torio replied, "and Melissa knows it well. And it's on the coast—I can always follow the shore back to familiar territory."
"Then go ahead, while we consider alternatives. Even if we find enough Readers to act as relays, only a few of us can Read the stresses within the ground. How can we place those few to cover the most territory?"
Torio went to his room, Melissa to hers. In moments they were out of body, «floating» above Lenardo's city. When Melissa began to drift southwest Torio asked, //Don't you know how to get quickly to somewhere you know well?//
//No—I've only recently become comfortable out of body at all. It's incredible that you are so much more skilled than I am, when you haven't had as much training.//
//But I have—Lenardo hasn't let me forget my lessons, and I have had to put my skills to use in life, not classroom exercises. Concentrate on Gaeta as you know it—some familiar spot. Imagine yourself there. Visualize it—//
An image grew in Melissa's mind of a pier jutting out into the sea, waves lapping on the rocks beneath. And then they were "there."
"on" the pier. //Alethia's house is just up the hill,
// Melissa told Torio.
Torio «followed» Melissa past several people who did not know they were there, to a neat walled cottage where a little boy played in the garden. Inside, an infant slept in a cradle while a young woman put away the supper things and prepared the crib for her older child. She worked slowly, misery in her every move.
//Alethia—what's wrong?//
//Melissa? It can't be! They said you were dead, and now they've taken Rodrigo—//
//I'm not dead, and please don't project so strongly.
We must have privacy. I wish you could leave your body.//
//You know I could never learn that.//
//You may, someday. But who took Rodrigo?//
//The army.// Alethia sat dejectedly in a wooden chair. //They've taken all the Readers they didn't before—many of the healers from the hospital, too. I'm so frightened—you were reported dead, Melissa.//
//Were Masters Amicus and Corus listed as dead, too?//
//Yes.//
//Well, they're alive. Magister Jason died in the shipwreck—//
//Shipwreck? What shipwreck?// Alethia was hopelessly confused.
//Alethia,// said Melissa, //hasn't any of the truth come down the Path of the Dark Moon?//
//I don't know what's true. There is some insane story that the army was trapped in quicksand, and hundreds of helpless men slaughtered by the savages.//
//The quicksand is true; the slaughter is not.// Melissa quickly sketched what had really happened.
//The Emperor claims there was a great battle,// said Alethia. //We were very narrowly defeated, and killed many of the savages. Now we are building an even bigger army to strike before the enemy can recoup their losses. The Council of Masters report the same thing. The only mention of quicksand came down the Path of the Dark Moon. But Melissa—have you escaped from the savages? Do you need help?//
//I am with friends. We need your help, Alethia.//
//We?//
//Magister Torio of the Adigia Academy is here with me now, or I would not dare travel so far out of body.//