by Spoor,Ryk E
Before the tension became completely unbearable, Vindatri shifted the slightest bit and spoke; his tone was tense at first, but slowly returned to the easy delivery characteristic of his usual conversation. “A …reasonable question, I must concede. Understand that I do not often answer questions pertaining to myself, but in this case, perhaps I should be more forthcoming.
“I had, as you might suspect, my own teachers. With their help, I completed my training and became a master in a matter of a few years—quite swift, by their reckoning.”
“Years?” Ariane heard the half-whining tone in her voice and winced. Oh, that really sounds like a Leader of a Faction, doesn’t it? “My apologies, I shouldn’t have allowed that to come out as it did. But…”
A low chuckle, and she thought she saw a twinkle in an eye that had a hint of violet in the darkness. “…but you are the Leader of your Faction, and you already begin to worry about what transpires in your absence. I cannot blame you for your concern. Yet where else will you have this opportunity?”
“Well,” Wu Kung said, “You could just come back with us for a while and teach her there!”
Orphan froze and dropped the food bulb he had been draining; DuQuesne just grinned.
Vindatri’s answer was more serious. “I am afraid that would be unwise for both of us. I have my reasons—very good reasons—to remain where I am, and you would most certainly not want to involve yourself in my affairs any further.”
“It was worth asking, though! I remember how hard I kicked myself when I realized that the way through the Portal of Peace was to just ask the guardian to let me through, and so I reminded myself to always ask when there was something I wanted!”
“Not that you always remember that advice, Wu,” DuQuesne said. “Especially about food.”
Everyone, even Vindatri, got a chuckle at that remark, and Wu laughed in an embarrassed way, hand behind his head. “Sometimes my stomach does the thinking!”
“Still,” Vindatri continued, “I can understand your concern, Captain, and with the most peculiar and positive indications I sensed during the Sealing, it may be that we can move forward more quickly. But to accomplish the most in the least time, we shall have to make your training regimen …much more intense than I had originally intended.”
Ariane winced. I have an idea of what he means by ‘intense.’ Been through some of those in simgames. Old masters drilling their students with impossible tasks, magicians testing their apprentices’ endurance as well as talent. All pretty awesome when you can just shut off the game and come back later.
But now …now I’m going to have to go through it for real. And there’s no pause button this time.
“All right,” she said, drawing a deep breath. “When do we start?”
“Tomorrow, Captain Austin,” Vindatri said. “In either of our schedules, a few hours will make no difference. And I think you will want to be rested indeed before we begin, because,” and now the smile was clearly unsettling, “you will have little chance for rest after!”
Chapter 35
“What other choice do I have, Marc?” Ariane asked, pulling her training suit’s top on. “We came here so I could get answers about these powers locked away inside me. If I don’t let him train me, I blew off my responsibilities as Leader of the Faction for nothing.”
“Not quite nothing,” DuQuesne corrected. “We’d committed to help Orphan in exchange for the ships, so we were paying off the debt.” Seeing her mouth opening, he continued, “And still, yes, you’re right because you could’ve sent someone other than you, and the only reason you could justify going was to get that information.”
“So—”
“So it’s still something we have to think about. This guy’s a real Big-Time Operator; in some ways he’s the biggest we’ve ever met. Doesn’t belong to any faction, has the powers that ought to be limited just to two specific groups, and he’s been around for a long, long time. He’s got his own motives—that we don’t know, and probably can’t really guess—and if we don’t know that, do we want to risk being part of his long-range plans?”
“I…” She sank into a nearby chair, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Let me think a moment, all right?”
He saw the slightly exaggerated wrinkling of her brow and her momentarily intense expression. For a moment he couldn’t figure it out, but then it was clear. He concentrated. Okay, Ariane, you wanted to talk in private?
A mental smile. Knew you’d catch on. Marc, I know we’re playing with fire here. And yes, I know Vindatri’s got his own goals and I don’t trust him much at all. And since he’s not a member of the Shadeweavers, I know he might change my perceptions, my emotions, or even my thoughts.
Then maybe we shouldn’t take chances with—
But also, Marc, and there was another mental smile, and an impression of a wink, I know that you are here. And if he does mess with my mind, I absolutely trust Marc C. DuQuesne, Doc Smithian Hero, to put me back together when the time comes. In fact, I order you to do that—if it becomes necessary—and give you full permission to access my mind to check if you need to.
DuQuesne projected his own grin. Understood, Captain.
I also order you to be sneaky about it. By which I mean that we might have to let me get affected by him in order to get through the training. If he’s got his own goals, that’s obviously the best way for him to achieve it: make sure that I go along with him. So let’s try not to force the issue if it looks like there’s still more to gain.
He kept his face from showing how very much he didn’t like that plan. Outwardly, anyone (namely, Vindatri) watching would see him sitting quietly while Ariane thought. Telepathic conversation was quick. That’s not playing with fire, Ariane, that’s juggling jars of nitro-glycerine while tapdancing on landmines.
Yes, I knew you would hate this idea. But this is the way we’re going to play it. Understood?
He gave an inward sigh. Yes, Captain. Understood.
Good. Now back to the outward show.
Ariane finally looked up. “Do we want to be part of his plans? I don’t know, Marc. But I do know that we absolutely need to understand these abilities I have and that the other two groups that do understand them will not teach me—unless I desert Humanity for them. That would be even worse, I think. So my decision—as your Captain, and as Leader of the Faction—is that I have to risk it.”
This time he sighed audibly. “If that’s the way it has to be …yes, Captain. I’ve raised the questions, you get to make the decision.”
“And I appreciate your input, Marc. You know that.”
“Yeah. I know. I just hope this doesn’t come back to bite us on the nethers.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Better go, then. You do not want to keep that guy waiting.”
“I’d guess not.”
The door opened in front of her; Wu Kung was standing just outside. “Ready?”
“Ready, Wu.”
“Keep an eye on her, Wu,” he said.
“Trust me, DuQuesne! It is my job!”
The door slid shut, and DuQuesne looked pensively around the guest quarters. Vindatri had tweaked their appearance after their first night, based on their comments, and the result was a huge improvement. None of the disquietingly alien proportions remained in the design, and the lighting was much more Earthlike, as were the chairs and other furniture.
However, what he needed wasn’t here; it was on board Zounin-Ginjou. He hadn’t expected to be doing engineering on the sly, and to pull anything off under the nose of a being that was, at a conservative estimate, fifty to a hundred times his own age was going to be a hell of a trick.
On the other hand, he didn’t think Vindatri was any smarter than a smart human being. And that means, my friend, that you will not have much of your brain available to spy on me while you’re trying to teach Ariane Stephanie Austin. Vindatri had neither confronted him or Orphan on their prior adventure, nor made any oblique references to it, so he felt he had some good grou
nds for this assumption. Either Vindatri couldn’t observe them when he was focusing on something else, or else he felt very heavily bound to pretend he couldn’t.
If it was the latter, well …DuQuesne smiled to himself. If Orphan’s reaction to the “primary” modifications was any guide, Vindatri would just end up confused. Unless the enigmatic creature suspected that DuQuesne had his own version of Arena-based superpowers, he’d never make sense of anything DuQuesne did with them.
DuQuesne ambled out, taking his time as he headed for the common room. The point was to look like he was being patient, and somewhat bored, until it was likely that Vindatri was fully wrapped up in training Ariane.
Orphan was there, sitting in one of the split-backed chairs appropriate for a tailed species, apparently absorbed in reading or viewing something presented by his own headware; DuQuesne could recognize the semi-glazed look of the eyes staring at things that weren’t there. As DuQuesne sat down, however, Orphan became aware of him and straightened. “Doctor DuQuesne! A good morning to you.”
“And you, Orphan.”
“And Captain Austin? She has departed for her training already?”
“Left a few minutes ago. I guess she’ll be gone all day. Since Wu isn’t leaving her alone, that means it’s just you and me. Probably for a few weeks, anyway.”
“Could I possibly interest you in a game of anghas? I did bring the pieces with me.”
He remembered the resource-strategy game well; they’d played a lot of it on Zounin-Ginjou during the time they were shuttling the Liberated vessels to Earth’s Sphere, and on this trip they’d taught it to both Ariane and Wu. “Maybe later; it’s not so exciting with only two players. If I can convince Wu to unstick himself from Ariane, maybe we could do a three-way game later. Right now, I’ve actually got some things I’d like to work on, but the stuff I need’s back on the ship. Vindatri’s preference for us staying here doesn’t stop me from getting equipment out of our ship, right?”
“I do not think he would object. If you do not mind, I will accompany you.”
“Sure, if you want. You looked like you were enjoying yourself alone, though.”
“Doctor DuQuesne, I have become an absolute master at entertaining myself in isolation; it was, you understand, a necessity.” DuQuesne nodded; Orphan had been the only member of the Liberated for a period of something well over a thousand years. “But also because of that, I must confess that I vastly prefer the company of other, living beings. I can endure solitude, yes …but I have come to detest it, too.”
“I can’t blame you. Sure, come along.”
As they walked through the more-alien vastness of the docking area, Orphan said, “is this project one of interest to me?”
DuQuesne gave him the slightest wink—a gesture he knew Orphan had researched and learned—as he answered, “Probably not much. Mostly design and circuit work for stuff back home. I’m a power engineer, you know, but I dabble in a lot of the other areas, and the Arena’s demands kinda change your design perspectives.”
“I confess that while intellectually I understand, I fear that I will never truly grasp what it must have been like for you as First Emergents,” Orphan said; his hands gave a tiny, quick version of the handtap, showing that he understood what DuQuesne was implying. “I, of course, was born and raised with the understanding of the Arena and its limitations, to the point that they are second nature to me. You, on the other hand, were confronted by its rules …rather rudely.”
DuQuesne’s sharp laugh echoed around the cavernous bay. “You can say that again. Whole ship powered down, AIs dead, and the only thing that saved our collective asses was that we had a racing pilot in the seat when it all happened.”
“Really? I do not believe I have been told this part of your saga, Doctor.”
“Huh. You know, you’re right. Technically I probably shouldn’t say any more. I mean, the tale of a First Emergence told by one of the people who was there, that’s got to be worth something.”
“Now, Doctor, you are beginning to be positively predatory. As a proper resident of the Arena should be, I confess.”
“Still, what the hell. I’ll leave out the parts I think are really valuable but I can give you some of it.”
Telling that part of the tale took quite a bit of time. Based on things DuQuesne had heard from other people, he suspected there were a few things about their Sphere that were different—specifically, the huge dark, semi-ruined area immediately inside from the Docks—so he left those parts out. Still, by the time he had reached the point where they had confronted the Blessed To Serve and rescued Orphan, the two had reached Zounin-Ginjou, located all the tools and materials DuQuesne wanted, and gotten most of the way back to their assigned quarters on Halintratha.
“That is a fascinating story, Doctor. Absolutely riveting, and I do not say that lightly. Such a carefully prepared expedition, nearly destroyed because of factors you simply could not have imagined.” He gave a buzzing laugh as they entered the common room. “But the most amazing part of it is your Captain, I think.”
“She sure is something else, that’s for sure.”
“An almost completely supernumerary member of your crew, turning out to be the most vital and important person in the venture. If that does not demonstrate your good fortune…”
DuQuesne nodded soberly. “Yeah, thought of that. And there’s other parts I left out—and will keep leaving out—that pretty much confirm your theory. We had pretty much the absolute best possible people to handle exactly what the Arena threw at us—and a lot of that was pure damn luck.”
He turned towards the corridor that led to their own rooms. “Sorry to leave you alone, but—”
“—think nothing of it, Doctor. I have much enjoyed our little talk today, and I know you have something you want to accomplish; we will talk later.” Orphan returned to his seat and began to gaze into nothingness again.
DuQuesne nodded, then headed back to his cabin. Time to start violating the very laws of physics!
Chapter 36
Boy, do I ache everywhere now. She had suspected Vindatri’s training regimen would be both mentally and physically demanding, but he seemed to be trying to exceed any of her expectations.
“You are not focused,” Vindatri’s voice came from behind her, as she continued to struggle up the gravelly hillside that kept sliding away beneath her feet, forging slowly, grimly towards a glittering golden pole that marked the finish of this course. This was at least the fourth simulated—or, possibly, real—environment the training had covered, and on the positive side it was neither freezing nor baking her, but the now-hundred-plus-meter fall waiting for her would be no fun at all.
Without so much as a blink she found herself halfway back down the hill. “Captain Austin, you keep drifting into thoughts of the training as a thing. You must clear your mind of concerns of the future or the weights of the past. Recite the phrases as I have taught them, dwell on those phrases and only on them.”
Great, and all my progress of the last half-hour is wiped out just like that. With an effort she tried to clear her mind, but there were too many questions. “Vindatri, why—”
“I will answer your questions when you reach your goal, Captain Austin, and not the slightest fraction of a moment sooner. Neither ask nor think questions, only the words you have been taught.”
Wu Kung, of course, was already at the goal post, sitting cross-legged and watching with obvious amusement. Damned show-off. Of course, he’s not being tested here either.
She sighed, then stood still, digging her boots into the gravel until the movement stabilized—for the moment. Gray clouds drifted far above, threatening rain, as they had since they first came here. Concentrate. Just the words as they were given me. Wirthshem, vanens, zofron, araga, kuten…
She began the trek up the mountain again, the hissing rattle of stone and sand providing a monotonous yet ever-shifting background to the words echoing in her mind. Mindogo, seipodon, geunate…
Her thighs ached with the effort of forcing her feet, ankle-deep and more in the shifting, clutching detritus, but she forced any consideration of pain or exhaustion away. Just the words, again; wirthshem, vanens…
The rhythm of word and legs became unified, indistinguishable; even when she stumbled and slid, the nonsensical, mysterious words circled through her head; when the words threatened to blur together, the slow, steady rhythm of her legs forced them apart …araga, kuten, mindogo, seipodon, geunate…
Her head was bowed, focused only before her, watching the sand stream by, both dizzying and steadying, an eternal motion, backwards as she walked forwards, a treadmill of flowing earth. Seipodon, geunate, wirthshem…
Her boots struck something solid, so shockingly still that she stumbled, fell forward, threw out her hands to catch herself, and felt one close around something cold and smooth; she looked up and saw herself gripping a shaft of glittering golden metal.
She had reached the goal.
“Satisfactory for now, Captain,” Vindatri said.
She was tempted to just collapse in a heap, but she knew her muscles would just stiffen up on her. She settled for leaning against the pole for a moment, then doing a slow, steady, not impeded walk on the grass that surrounded the pole. Wu Kung watched her with a faint smile. “So …you’ll answer questions now?”
“Some, yes. How many depends on what they are.”
“What was the point of this exercise? Most of the others I get, but this one—”
“Endurance and focus are vitally important in the use of the powers of Shadeweaver or Faith, or whatever it is you shall become,” Vindatri said. “If you would use your powers in anything other than the comfort of your quarters, you must be able to speak the words in exhaustion, in fear, while under assault, and speak them, think them, precisely.”