"Dissociate," Elric said.
Galen nodded, breathless, and focused on the equation that terminated the connection between his chrysalis and the implant at the base of his skull. The implant - much simpler than those of a full techno-mage - had been inserted three years ago, when he had entered chrysalis stage. While the connection between the chrysalis and his implant was active, the chrysalis remained bound to his body, clamped onto his head and sealed to his spine with the thin layer of his robe trapped between them. The chrysalis was drawn to him by the kindred implant that had originally been a piece of it.
He successfully broke the connection, feeling a familiar relief as the pressure against his body lessened. The device relaxed with a squelching sound, and Elric lifted it off. Wearing the chrysalis always provided an underlying sense of energy, a subliminal vibration or resonance. Now he felt the accompanying drop in energy. The cool air prickled over his hot skin. He ran a hand through his short hair, which was plastered to his scalp.
Galen followed Elric to the bench, where Elric lowered the chrysalis into its clear canister. Floating in the liquid, it looked somewhat like a terrestrial jellyfish. The umbrella- shaped top that clung to his head resembled the bell of a jellyfish, while the extension that ran down his spinal cord looked like one of its long oral arms.
The chrysalis had grown thicker and wider in the three years he'd been training with it, and its translucent skin had gained a silvery sheen. Elric had explained that it had been only partially formed when Galen had begun to work with it. That was why the first year of chrysalis-stage training hard involved only the visualization of different spells, and no casting. The chrysalis had been adapting to him, adjusting itself to his patterns of thought, in a way almost mirroring him. The process had continued even after he'd begun to cast spells.
That was why the echo from the chrysalis had grown progressively stronger. As Galen was being trained, so was the chrysalis.
Galen was struck again by the brilliance of the Taratimude. They had developed a technology that could read one's very desires and out of nothing, conjure them. Their scientific understanding had been incredibly advanced, their sense of beauty, of magic, unequaled. What spells Wierden's people may have conjured, the mages would never know. When nearly till of them had died in a great cataclysm, most of their knowledge had been destroyed. The few survivors, Wierden among them, had decided to share what tech they had, and the secret of replicating it, with other species.
Wierden had formed the Circle and established the Code, and the techno-mages in their current form had been bond. Yet their understanding of the brilliant science that had designed the tech had been lost. Galen feared the mages would never again be the equal of their predecessors.
"You honor the work of Wierden through your conjury" Elric said, closing the canister.
"Yes."
"Well and good, but what is your work?"
Galen didn't know. His parents, both mages, had died when he was ten. After that, he'd wanted to be a healer. That desire had remained with him all the way to age eighteen, the time of the last convocation. At that gathering, he'd entered chrysalis stage and taken the name of Galen, an ancient Greek physician and philosopher.
But in the three years since then, he'd realized he had no aptitude for healing. His work as a healer was ineffective at worst, incompetent at best.
He now felt the answer to Elric's question might lay in the work of the ancients, which fascinated him, but he didn't know how he could contribute to that great work. His conjury had simply paid tribute to the accomplishments of Wierden, without showing how his own work would relate to them. He had failed to create something original. He stared at the floor.
"I'm not sure," he answered finally.
Elric headed for the door.
"Good technique and precision on that," he said quickly.
Galen jerked his head up. Elric had sworn always to speak truth to him, and in the eleven years Elric had trained him, Galen had received praise only twice before. Elric paused beside the door.
"Have you considered the question I posed yesterday?"
His voice had returned to its deep, measured tones.
The question - Why are you a techno-mage? - was one that all chrysalis-stage apprentices would have to answer as part of the initiation ceremonies. The response often helped to define a mage's work. If he could answer that question, then all his conjuring would have a direction.
"I've thought of little else," Galen said.
"And have you thought of an answer?"
"To study the work of the ancients, to further their work where I can."
"To further their work."
"It seems so much more worthy than any work I can think of."
"It is worthy. But you must make it your own."
He grasped the door latch, said the password.
"Archimedes."
Elric's containment field around the hall kept others out, and held any wild energies within.
"You will show me something original tomorrow morning."
Elric strode out.
Galen picked up the canister and followed. He had nothing more to show Elric. He had put all his expertise into the tribute for Wierden. He could think of nothing truly original, nothing to equal the work he admired.
* * *
Outside, the sun was high and the mist was thin, adding a hazy, brilliant overlay to the surroundings. The brisk sea breeze cooled Galen's sweat-soaked body. He took in the sharp sea air. The mak, the huge plain of moss-covered rock on which they stood, was a brilliant lime green today. About a hundred feet away, swathed in mist, stood the edge of the great stone circle that marked Elric's place of power. The seven stones, marked by the seven runes of the Code, stood over twenty feet high. With their moss shrouds, they appeared almost like outgrowths of the planet. Beneath the circle, in a chamber hollowed out of the rock, was Elric's place of power, which augmented and enhanced his abilities and connected him to the planet itself.
Elric was looking toward the area where the convocation was to be held, beside the cliffs that overlooked the sea. Over the last several days, Elric and Galen had set up an extensive network of interconnected white domed tents where different meetings would be held, Elric marking them with glowing runes and symbols to indicate their various purposes. Once the tents had been set up, the two of them had supervised as supplies and workers had arrived.
Elric kept the preparations as simple as possible. Most of the workers he drew from the local town of Lok, though large supplies of food and a few specialists had to be brought in from the city of Tain. Keeping five hundred technomages happy for a thirty-five-day convocation would be no easy task.
Although Galen could see only hints of movement among the mist-shrouded tents, he knew they must be busy with activity. As of this morning, everything had been going; according to schedule, but Galen knew Elric was anxious. The sites of the convocations rotated among the homes of the five members of the great Circle.
This was the first to be held on Epic's home planet. Of course, that didn't mean Elric would cancel a practice session-even though the mages were; expected to begin arriving in a few hours.
Elric turned his stern gaze on Galen.
"As a group we seek wisdom. As individuals we can be eccentric, peevish, perverse, opinionated - apt to take offense upon small occasions Act with restraint. Be courteous. We get along best at great distances from one another.
Every convocation has its confrontations, its challenges. You've been sheltered in the past. Once you're initiated as a full mage, you won't be under my protection any longer. Others may challenge you, to test your powers or prove their own. Do not rise to the fool's challenge to be a fool yourself."
Elric straightened.
"Your friend is coming." Galen turned.
Behind them, a scrap of orange flashed through the mist. Orange was Fa's favorite color; she wore it almost all the time. Her orange jumper emerged first from the white mist. Then
her limbs and face, covered in curly wisps of white hair. Her legs were small and delicate-she had only eight cycles of the sun, or ten years Earth standard-yet she traversed the uneven rocky plain nimbly with her broad feet. Externally, her species, the Soom, appeared surprisingly humanoid. The most striking difference was that at mid-leg, the knee joint bent back rather than forward, as was the case with many of the species on the planet. Galen had spent so long here that his own legs sometimes struck him as odd.
Fa ran across the mak toward them. She waved-a gesture she had learned from him and used with tireless enthusiasm.
"Gale! Gale!"
"Would you like me to check on the preparations?" he asked Elric.
"Don't you think we should see what your friend has to say?" Galen sighed.
Fa became hesitant as she approached them. She was always nerv ous around Elric.
"Good day, Fa," Elric said in the language of the Soom.
Both Elric and Galen knew the language well; Galen had lived there eleven years, Elric over thirty. Fa straightened-she was proud of how much she'd grown, the top of her head now above Galen's waist-and gave a quick nod of her head, a sign of respect.
"Good day, Honored El," she said.
Her eyes shifted back and forth between Galen and Elric, and then her self-consciousness seemed to evaporate and the news burst forth.
"There's a big fight in town. Farmer Jae and Farmer Nee may kill each other. You must come. They told me to bring you as fast as I could."
The town of Lok was about one-quarter mile away. From their position, the mak extended another hundred yards or so inland, then gradually changed into rising grass upland. Elric could easily perform an exotic propulsion incantation and conjure a flying platform, but there was no big rush to reach the dispute; Farmer Jae and Farmer Nee fought regularly, and the most violent thing they had ever done was toss clods of excrement into each other's fields. And Galen knew Elric wouldn't conjure a platform. Elric didn't like to display his powers before the people of Lok. He had designed his house and the training hall to look as much like their structures as possible. In front of them, he limited himself to just a handful of spells. He said he didn't want them to fear him or worship him.
As it was, they considered him a wise man and turned to him to settle disputes. And at times of celebration, they enjoyed his ability to entertain with delightful illusions.
Holding back in the presence of the Soom was the one issue on which Galen disagreed with Elric. Elric had spent his entire life developing and perfecting his powers. Why not use them? And why not let the people respect him for what he was? Not only a techno-mage, but one of the great Circle.
"We will hurry" Elric said, starting for town.
"I must come! I must come!" Fa cried.
"You can run all that distance?" Elric asked.
Galen knew what was coming. Fa turned to him* raising her arms.
"Gale could carry, me."
"Galen will carry you," Elric said, his stem face preempting any argument.
He took the canister from Galen. Fa leapt onto Galen, locking her arms and legs around him so he could hardly breathe. She was growing too big to be carried. Elric began to ruts across the lime green carpet of moss. Galen followed.
"How was your training?" Fa asked, her head bouncing against his ear, the white hair tickling his skin.
"Did you show him the lights of Wierden? Did he like them?"
"He said to work harder."
Galen felt foolish; he couldn't keep the disappointment out of his voice. Fa licked his cheek, and he jerked his head away in irritation.
"He loves you, Gale. He wants you to learn well."
"I know," Galen said.
She didn't understand. He didn't think he could do what Elric asked.
"You'll do better tomorrow." Galen nodded.
He adjusted his grip, pressing her more tightly to him, and they ran through the mist.
"I warned you to keep that cursed Jab off my land," Farmer Jae yelled.
Galen rounded Farmer Jae's barn and made his way through the crowd that had gathered at the common border of Farmer Jae's and Farmer Nee's properties. Weighed down with Fa, he'd had to slow to a walk near the outskirts of Lok, so Elric had arrived ahead of him.
"My Jab wouldn't have your filthy swug if she was crazy drunk," Farmer Nee said.
Galen reached the front of the crowd, and Fa squirmed out of his grip, dropping to stand beside him. Jae and Elric stood on the near side of the low stone boundary wall, Nee on the far side. The differences between the properties were dramatic. The yard surrounding Jae's barn and outbuildings was clean, his equipment lined up neatly for use in the grass fields. Nee's yard was cluttered with discarded, rusted tools, the dead remnants of failed gardens, and the elaborate contraption that was his livelihood: his still. Apparently the clod-throwing had escalated to a higher level this time, because both farmers were marked with large olive-colored splotches. Small pieces of excrement clung to their coveralls, and a fairly large piece hung from the curly white hair on Farmer Nee's cheek in apparent defiance of gravity.
Elric turned, his hands raised.
"And now we have silence. That is good. Farmer Jae will tell his side."
Farmer Nee mumbled in protest; a look from Elric silenced him.
"Honored El." Farmer Jae smacked his lips as he gathered himself to speak.
"I went in to feed Des today at high sun. He was lying on his side and wouldn't get up. He hadn't eaten his morning meal."
Farmer Jae's prizewinning swug, Des, was the cause of many disputes. Jae cared for him with fanatical devotion, feeding him the finest sea spree four times ii day, bathing his flabby bulk in sea water, and rubbing kwa blossoms into his bumpy skin to bring out its sought-after mottled coloration. As the villagers said, Farmer Jae cared for Des as if he had moss growing out of his head. He was convinced that any unusual activity in the vicinity was designed to upset Des, a conspiracy by those jealous of the swug's prizewinning stature.
"He hasn't eaten anything for the past three days. He always eats. He's starting to lose his color. The judging is only two months away. I know what's behind this. Four days ago, I had to chase that cursed Jab out of my barn. I know she stung Des."
Jae pointed at Nee.
"He ruined my Des!"
Jab stood at Nee's feet, straining eagerly at the rope leash to cross over to Jae's property. She had a long cylindrical body and muscular legs that held her low to the ground. Scaly pink skin was perpetually covered by a layer of dirt. Her needle-sharp sting, the source of much of the trouble, was retracted into her forehead now. Jab was a notorious creature in the town of Lok. Farmer Nee, busy fermenting moss into alcohol, let her roam wherever she pleased, and wherever she pleased tended to be a source of trouble, Galen couldn't imagine how Elric could waste his expertise on another one of Jab's misadventures, yet he knew that Elric actually enjoyed these escapades, since he would often recount them with the townspeople, and those were among the rare times Galen had actually seen Elric smile or laugh.
Jae took a threatening step toward Nee.
"You shouldn't be allowed to keep that animal. You don't control her. She's a menace to the town!"
Elric blocked his path.
"Thank you, Farmer Jae. We will now hear Farmer Nee's side."
"He has no side," Jae yelled. He stabbed a finger at Nee.
"Incompetence! Laziness! Jealousy!"
Nee had been craftily holding one final clot of excrement behind his back, and he now flung it at Jae. It hit Elric in the side with a loud smack. The clot tumbled to the ground leaving a splotch on Elric's robe. Galen gasped as the crowd around him yelled insults at Nee and laughed. Elric lowered his head, but Galen could tell he was smiling. Galen didn't understand it. Nee gave a short nod.
"My apologies, Honored El."
When Elric raised his head, Galen was glad to see the look of grave disappointment.
"You will deliver three casks of your finest
for the festival in two months' time."
Nee's face contorted at the thought. At last he gave a reluctant nod, and the crowd laughed.
"Have you a side, Farmer Nee?"
"My Jab didn't sting his Des. Wouldn't want to"
"Well said. Now we will examine Des."
With a flourish he extended an arm toward Farmer Jae's barn. The crowd parted and Elric proceeded into the stone barn, followed by Galen, Farmer Jae, and most of the town. There was some controversy about Farmer Nee entering; he was forced to leave Jab outside. They crouched around the swug, who lay on his side in a bed of freshly cut new grasses. A suffocating putrid odor suffused the air. Elric conjured a few small balls of light. The townspeople had seen him create light displays in the night sky, so this was little more than a curiosity. What most interested them, Galen knew, was who was right, how Elric would discover this, and how the farmers would react. This day would be a hot topic for months to come.
Elric bent over the vast expanse of swug. He placed his hands high on her mottled side, stepped them down slowly and methodically as he made his examination. If Jab had stung Des, that meant the swug would have tiny jabs growing beneath his skin. Jab reproduced by injecting her fertilized eggs into a host. Galen had done one of his earliest research projects on this. The eggs developed within the host, feeding off of it until they hatched into tiny larvae and popped back out through the skim.
As unappealing as that was, it wasn't fatal. But Jab inserted something else along with her eggs, a virus that incapacitated the host's immune system, preventing it from killing the invading eggs. As far as Galen knew, a swug had never been stung by a jab, so any effect the virus would have was unknown. Jabs generally chose other animals as hosts, but Jab was a renegade and a bit sting-happy. She'd stung several townspeople in her day, triggering days of vomiting and diarrhea, and startling outbreaks of larvae.
Babylon 5 16 - Techno-Mages 01 - Casting Shadows (Cavelos, Jeanne) Page 2