Dishonored--The Veiled Terror

by Adam Christopher

  Dribner frowned at her. “What? Know Sokolov? Why, of course I did! What would ever make you think otherwise? Good gracious, young lady, have you not been paying the slightest bit of attention? Really, the youth of today.”

  Billie’s eyebrow went up again at his outburst, and she watched as the old man continued muttering to himself as he moved around the underground laboratory. On one side of the chamber, a series of large wheeled frames sat, folded against the wall, and now he began to pull them around, unfolding from each an array of jointed arms and clamps. Billie stepped back to give him room, keeping her hands to herself, declining to offer any assistance. She had no idea what he was doing, but given his tetchiness, there was no doubt that an offer of help would just irritate him further and cause even more delays.

  Billie watched him in silence for a few moments. Once he seemed to have calmed down, she spoke.

  “So the Academy lets you run your own experiments, down here?”

  “They do.”

  “Even though you have, ah… retired?”

  Dribner shrugged as he wheeled one of the stands around. “My family has had a long connection with the Academy. My great-grandfather even contributed a rather large proportion of his not inconsiderable fortune to the endowment of the Chair which the illustrious Professor Finch now occupies. They wouldn’t dare throw me out!”

  After a few more minutes, Dribner had arranged the stands around the rift, encircling it completely in the complex metal framework. After adjusting the clamped arms so they were all pointing at the rift, he then spent even longer installing other instruments in place. Billie watched as he pulled items that looked like spyglasses, others that looked like large magnifying lenses, out of a variety of boxes and set them up in the clamps. He took out a coil of leads, connected various plugs to various inputs, then handed two heavier cables to Billie.

  “If you would be so kind as to connect this,” he said, not looking at her, his eyes roving over his instrumentation.

  Billie took the cables over to the whale oil tank installed on the wall and connected them to the ports, sliding the tank cover closed as she did so. Then she turned around to survey Dribner’s work from the other side of the room.

  The Void rift was now surrounded by instruments, all connected by one set of cables to the old wheeled console, and by the other cables to the whale oil tank. Dribner was behind the console, his hands flying over the switches and levers, his ancient face illuminated by the glow of the rift and the lights that flashed on the controls under his fingertips.

  Billie folded her arms and leaned against one of the iron pillars as she watched, trying to make herself comfortable. Whatever Dribner was up to, he wasn’t a man to be hurried.

  Eventually, apparently satisfied, Dribner threw a lever with a flourish. Underneath the console, installed on the lower shelf of the wheeled trolley, was a large squat box that looked very much like an audiograph machine, without the horn. A chattering sound emanated from the box, and a moment later Billie saw the edge of a punch card begin to appear through the slot in the top of the box. It emerged slowly, then began to spool out onto the floor, the card covered with a dense pattern of holes.

  Dribner glanced down at the card, then he leaned on the console, elbows locked, and looked up at Billie.

  “I expect you have a lot of questions, young lady,” he said.

  Billie said nothing.

  “Of course, you are impressed by my application of natural philosophy to the matter at hand,” said Dribner. He held his chin high. “As well you should be. The work I am carrying out here is a direct continuation of the researches of Sokolov himself. Unlike those amateurs above us—” he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and gave a huff before continuing “—I believe that the world is in great danger, and that we must do everything we can to put things right.”

  Billie pushed herself off the pillar, and moved over to stand by Dribner at the console. Maybe the old man wasn’t moonstruck after all. “I tried to tell them, but they didn’t believe a word I said,” she said. “You heard it all?”

  “I did indeed. Oafs, the lot of them. Bring back the rat plague, that’s what I say.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, ah, yes, I was in a little… vestibule, a place I often use for quiet contemplation and a place where I know nobody can find me—it neighbors the council chamber, you see—and I overhead your arguments. Compelling they were, too. The fall of the Outsider has caused a… movement, shall we say, between the Void and our world. The Void itself has become unmoored, and the two realms are being pulled apart, the consequences of which will be devastating.”

  Billie nodded. “I’ve already seen the damage created by the rifts, and I’ve seen what the dreams are doing to people.”

  “Indeed, two phenomena with the same cause. And the situation will continue to worsen, until both the Empire of the Isles—the body, shall we say—and the citizens thereof—the mind—are rent asunder!”

  Billie glanced over Dribner’s complex arrangement of equipment. The punch card machine continued to chatter by their feet.

  “You’ve been researching the rifts, here?”

  “I discovered this one just a few months ago,” he said. “I had heard about the rift in Tyvia, which you saw for yourself—it has at least been reported in some of the more obscure regional newspapers. Here in my own modest laboratory, I was continuing Sokolov’s work. Before he left, he entrusted me with his notes, and his collection, to ensure that someone would carry on without him.”

  Dribner moved over to one of the workstations against the wall and pulled down a thick book from the shelf. Dribner began leafing through it, and Billie leaned over to look. It was a bound set of handwritten notes, written by Sokolov himself.

  She recognized the handwriting, but not the words. “Sokolov wrote his notes in another language? What is it? I don’t recognize the script.”

  “It’s not a language, as such,” said Dribner. “It is a code. It seems the others in the Academy took something of a dim view of his later work—especially once Finch became head. They never got on, those two. I think that was one of the reasons Sokolov never returned to the Academy, not properly, anyway. But although Finch and the others discouraged his research, he continued, using a code—the key to which he entrusted to me, to ensure that I, and only I, would be able to read his notes and continue the work.”

  Billie looked over the pages. The code was a mix of words and numbers and symbols that looked more like mathematics than language. Certainly indecipherable without a key.

  “Finch was afraid, wasn’t he?” Billie glanced up at Dribner. The old man’s face was lit from the console below, the effect deepening the shadows on his already gaunt face. “He still is,” she added. “Afraid of magic and the arcane.”

  Dribner snorted. “Finch is a fool. And you are right, he is afraid.” He flipped the book over, and began leafing through it from the back. Here, Billie saw, were a set of diagrams of objects she knew only too well—bone charms and runes. They were highly accurate sketches, and were accompanied by more notes in the complex code.

  “Sokolov became obsessed with the Outsider and his magic. He managed to gather a number of objects the Abbey of the Everyman would have called ‘heretical’.” Dribner paused, and laughed. “With no Abbey and no Overseers, who can now say what is heretical or not?”

  Billie reached over to the book and flipped through the pages herself, scanning the catalogue of objects.

  “Sokolov collected artifacts?”

  “Charms, runes. Most came from a collection of a man called Norcross, I believe, who had a private museum somewhere in central Gristol. There was a fire, a year ago now, maybe. Norcross was killed, and most of his collection went up in smoke, but Sokolov used his extensive contacts to retrieve at least part of what was left. He believed there were more artifacts that survived the fire, which had been taken from the ruins and moved by person or persons unknown to Morley.”

  “Okay,” said Billie. “So what
did Sokolov learn from his share?”

  Dribner leafed back through the book. “Well, a few things, some interesting, some not. I confess, I have yet to fully decode all of his notes, and it is possible there is a volume or two missing. But, regardless, based on earlier research, Sokolov had developed a system of instrumentation with which he could measure the supernatural, as it were.” Dribner gestured to the console and to the frames surrounding the rift. “I have continued its development, with certain modifications, as you can see.”

  Billie began to understand. “So, by using the instruments to measure the supernatural, you can actually measure the rift?”

  Dribner’s lips moved as though he were re-running her words through his mind before coming up with an answer. Then his eyes widened, and he nodded.

  “An astute mind. Said it myself. Very astute.”

  “And what did you discover?”

  Dribner pointed at the rift. “That you are correct, the rifts are moving as the Void slides away from the world. Or perhaps ‘moving’ isn’t the right word. ‘Shearing’ would be a better term. As the Void shears away, it damages the world, and that damage will only increase over time. Not only that, the rifts are linked. They are not discrete events, but they are all the same event, all parts of the whole. Eventually, the rifts will almost certainly join together, and that will be the end of everything.”

  Billie whistled through her teeth. “So how do we stop it? How long do we have?”

  Dribner flapped his arms in frustration. “The latter point, I have yet to determine. As to how we stop it—that is where you come in.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you, young lady. You are unique. The Outsider has fallen, and he has taken his magic with him. Oh, there are other magics, certainly—oh yes, I saw the fuss that young Overseer made at the apothecary’s—but as one divinity falls, so others compete to take its place. With the Outsider gone, those who carry his mark are no longer linked to him, and they have no power.” Dribner stabbed a finger at Billie. “But you… you are different. You were never marked, yet you are linked to the Void—more so than any who carried the Outsider’s Mark. That makes you useful for the task we face.”

  Billie folded her arms, and stepped closer to the rift. It shimmered behind Dribner’s instruments, a blazing, silent fire. As she stared into it, she felt the pull on the Sliver, and the pounding in her head began to sound once again.

  “But,” said Dribner from behind her, “I must insist you give up on your Fool’s Fancy. It may be painful, but you need to let the parts of you that are part of the Void be drawn fully to it. That herb dulls not only your senses, but also your tether to the Void. If you are to be of any use, you must clear your mind entirely. Only then will the full potential of your connection be useful to us.”

  She turned back to Dribner, the sensation fading. “Very well. So, if I’m linked to the Void, and can sense the presence of the Void rifts, what do you want me to do? You want me to find something, don’t you?”

  Dribner grinned at her, then raised his hands in the air so the sleeves of his gown fell away. Then he plunged his hands back down to the console and pulled a couple of levers with a theatrical flourish.

  At once the subterranean chamber was filled with the hum of power. Billie felt the Sliver burn in her head, but despite the discomfort, she turned to the rift—without Green Lady, this was something she was going to have to get used to.

  Some of the lenses and spyglass apparatus that surrounded the rift were now glowing with power as beams of smoky white light were projected into the rift. Beneath Dribner’s console, the punch card machine chattered as it began to spit data out at a much faster rate than before.

  “The rifts are the result of the separation of the Void from the world,” said Dribner, raising his voice over the buzz of his equipment. “But their movement and enlargement are not.”

  Billie’s face creased in confusion. “What?”

  Dribner gestured to his console. “It seems I am not the only one probing these phenomena. Someone else is experimenting, and it is their meddling that is causing the rifts to destabilize, threatening us all. More than that, I believe their actions are deliberate.”

  “You think they are actively damaging the rifts—the rift?” Billie blinked, the Sliver of the Eye of the Dead God like a red-hot poker stabbing into her brain. She gritted her teeth, concentrating, as she focused on Dribner. The old man’s face spun a little in her vision, but his expression was firm.

  “I believe so, yes,” he said. “For what purpose, I can’t say. But what I can say is that if we are to save the world from certain and total destruction, we must find this other party and put a stop to their experiments.”

  Billie frowned and shook her head. “I don’t understand. I thought you said Sokolov’s work was unique?”

  “Young lady! It is, it is! Don’t get me wrong. But it is possible that others have achieved something similar in parallel.” Dribner raised his arms again, and turned his body to the room. “A significant portion of my work here was only made possible thanks to the acquisition of the Norcross collection. But I also think Sokolov was right when he said that some of that collection was taken by parties unknown. It is possible—indeed, it is likely—that, whomsoever they are, they have found their own way of using the artifacts, although for a far darker purpose, if my data are correct.”

  Billie’s mind was racing. This was… well, unexpected, to say the least. But maybe Dribner was right. If there was anyone who could stop this, it was her.

  “Okay,” she said. “I need to find these ‘parties unknown’, and put a stop to their activities. Fine. But where are they? Didn’t you say Sokolov thought the artifacts were taken to Morley? Do we know where in Morley?”

  “I did hope you would be able to tell me that, young lady.” Dribner pointed at the rift. “I have increased the power flow, allowing my instruments to probe deeper into the rift. The rifts are connected to each other, and you are connected to the Void, thus I had theorized that you would be able to sense the connections, and possibly locate the source of the interference.”

  Billie turned to the rift. Immediately, the Sliver began to burn. She clenched her fists by her side. She almost asked the old man what she had to do, but—

  She knew. It was as Dribner said—as she was part of the Void, so the Void was part of her. And the rift was where the Void and the world intersected.

  Just like a Void hollow.

  Billie took a deep breath, and then another, puffing out her cheeks. She focused, letting the view of the world through her human eye fade, until she was just using the power of the Sliver. A moment later, her vision spun into a blue haze, the rift dancing in front of her in brilliant flashing yellow.

  But the center of the rift itself was clear. It was distorted, as if she was looking through smoked glass, but there was something there.

  It was a city, she realized, although it was too indistinct to be recognizable. Most of the buildings looked like ruined shells, except for one, a tall tower capped by a spherical roof, standing on a hill. Above it was another structure, a dark, curved object, far too large to be any kind of man-made structure.

  “Can you see anything?” came Dribner’s voice from a thousand miles away.

  Billie concentrated. Already the vision through the rift-hollow was fading. Then the world snapped back into normal colors and the Sliver pinged in her skull, sending a pulse of white-hot pain coursing across the top of her head and down her spine. Billie staggered back against the console.

  The old man turned the power back down, and the humming in the room faded, although Billie’s head was ringing like a bell. Dribner peered at her.

  “Well?”

  Billie looked up, her head beginning to clear. “I’m not sure. I saw what looked like a city.”

  “Yes?”

  “A city in ruins.”

  “Oh.”

  “There was a tower, with a round top.”

  “Ah
!”

  Billie stood up from the console and rolled her neck, wincing as it clicked painfully. “You know where that is?”

  Dribner clapped his hands. “Indeed I do, young lady. I believe you saw Alba! That tower will be the Royal Observatory. A unique building in the Isles.”

  Billie forced herself to look back at the rift. It hung there, suspended between the instruments. There was nothing to see in its rippling blue light, but Billie was also pleased to note that the Sliver wasn’t getting as hot as it had been. Maybe she could control it, use it, as Dribner said, now she knew for sure that the rifts and the hollows were very similar phenomena.

  “Alba,” said Billie. She looked back over her shoulder. “That explains the ruins. The city was wrecked by the Three-Day War.”

  “Ah, yes, that is the case. An unfortunate circumstance for our neighbors. But the city is being rebuilt—in fact, that makes your task easier.”

  “It does?”

  “Oh yes. The city has almost recovered—it’s as big a port as it was before the war, perhaps even bigger—but there is still a lot of reconstruction going on. Not only will you be able to secure passage with relative ease, your presence will go unnoticed. People from all over the Isles are streaming to the place to find work. Civil wars are, apparently, rather good for business. Well, their aftermaths are, anyway.”

  Billie nodded. Alba. Yes, Dribner was right. She’d been there a handful of times, and remembered the tower of Royal Morley Observatory, although she didn’t think it had been on a hill. Then again, her vision through the rift had not been crystal clear—there had been the huge, curved shadow looming, for instance. It seemed that whatever—whoever—was interfering with the rifts was probably interfering with her vision through it.

  “Okay, looks like I need to go to Morley and take a look. But if the destabilization is deliberate, it could be dangerous—we don’t know who we’re up against. I’d like your help, but I don’t think it would safe for you to travel with me.”

  Dribner drew himself up again into his proud academic pose, chin up, gown clutched in his bony hands. “Young lady! Why, the very thought! I have no intention of abandoning my work. The very suggestion, the very suggestion!” He looked at the floor and shook his head.