Walker

by Michael Langlois

  “They Walked an entire ship? I didn’t know that was even possible.”

  “It’s not, at least by any Guild Walker today. But they say that the Founder could do that and more. Or perhaps it’s just a story, who knows?”

  They were in a residential section now, with each small house standing in the center of a tiny yard, with a low stone wall all around. Most of the lots had a tree or two on them, and charming waist-high wooden gates at the entrances that were more decorative than secure. Huge trees were planted down the center of the boulevard, their massive branches blocking out most of the moonlight.

  “Oh,” said Iyah, her face lighting up. “Sparkers!” She bent down at the base of a tree and rummaged around for a moment. “Here, look at this!”

  She looked delighted, which was something that Daniel had never seen before. It put a warmth in her face that made her so beautiful that Daniel nearly forgot that she was speaking to him. She put something heavy and rough in his hand.

  “What is it?”

  “A sparker, watch!” She stepped away from the tree until she was under open sky and then pulled her arm back like a major league pitcher. There was a whip-crack and then a streak of orange light, high up in the sky, like a meteor in reverse. She laughed. “See? Isn’t that beautiful?”

  Yes it is, thought Daniel. Examining the object in his hand revealed a very heavy golf ball-sized lump with a honeycombed exterior, like a spherical wasps nest wrapped around a stone. It was slightly sticky, and smelled faintly of pine and kerosene. “What is it?”

  Iyah walked close to him and peered into his palm. “It’s a seed, from these big trees here. They call it a Caple, after the guy that discovered them on Olympus. You smell it? Only the seed has that funny sap in it. Doctor Wolternel says it has a very low flash point, which means that the fumes will ignite at a lower temperature than the wood of the seed. Anyway, Channeler students found out a long time ago that if you throw them hard enough, they’ll catch on fire in the air and make a streak, like campfire sparks. Sparkers, see?”

  Daniel’s mind reeled. He remembered reading once that around Mach 2, the exterior of the Concord reached several hundred degrees Fahrenheit. Could that cracking noise actually be the sparker breaking the sound barrier? Seeing the simple delight in Iyah’s face, he was hard pressed to reconcile the prickly fear such a feat conjured in his belly. It was spookily inhuman. She curled his fist around the sparker.

  “Here, give it a try. Throw as hard as you can, okay?”

  Daniel stepped out from under the branches and cocked his arm back. He cleared his mind, reached for the Veil, and threw the seed with all of his might. Unfortunately, he let go a fraction of a second too late, and instead of going up into the night sky, the sparker flew straight ahead and smacked into the stone column of a nearby fireplace where it shattered with a sound like a gunshot. Immediately lights came on inside the house.

  Iyah tried to stifle a laugh behind her hand and dragged Daniel quickly behind the massive tree trunk. The front door banged open and a potbellied man in his long johns stepped onto the porch and started yelling and looking around wildly.

  “Get away from my house, you worthless layabouts! I told you that if I caught you around here again you’d get the back of my hand!”

  Iyah pulled her shirt collar up over her nose and mouth and snorted, unable to contain her mirth. The man glared out into the darkness for what seemed like an eternity, and then went back inside, slamming the door behind him. Daniel took a deep breath, and the two of them leaned limply back onto the tree.

  “Throw them up, Daniel, up!” She giggled again and put one hand on his shoulder.

  “Sorry,” he said, grinning like a fool.

  “Come on, I think we’ve terrorized these poor people enough for one night.” She pulled him away from the tree and turned and walked back towards the bustle of New Lothbury. As he hurried to catch up with her, he found he couldn’t stop smiling.

  It was the best goddamn night of his entire life.

  13

  The next morning Daniel felt like nothing could touch him. No amount of Guild politics or death threats could spoil his mood after his walk with Iyah the night before.

  A little hope is a dangerous thing, said a tiny voice, which he cheerfully ignored. He hummed to himself while brushing his teeth, sang off key sappy songs in the shower, and even considered putting on some of the clothes that Iyah had picked out for him earlier in the week. He didn’t, but it was close. Instead he dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, part of the stash that Saul had smuggled in for him from his mom’s condo.

  He was dressed and passing through the kitchen on his way out the door when he spied a plate of cookies on the counter. It was a heap of big golden disks, lumpy with fruit and smelling of honey. They were soft and thick in the middle, but thin and crispy brown at the edges. Next to the plate was a note written in a very neat hand that simply said, “Thank You — Drina.”

  He must have missed them when he came in last night, since he hadn’t turned on the kitchen light on the way to bed. He stuffed one into his mouth and rolled his eyes in pleasure as the chewy mixture yielded a fruity tartness mixed with a darker, more savory molasses and honey undertone. He grabbed as many as he could hold in one hand.

  He was still humming around a mouthful of happy cookie goodness when he stepped out into the bright morning sunshine that flooded his hallway. Just outside his door, he found Boro leaning against the opposite wall, reading a book.

  “Heya big guy, haven’t seen you in this building before. What’s up? Want a cookie?” Daniel held out a handful.

  “No, thank you. Ekani thought I should check on you after you didn’t come back last night. She thought you might have gotten lost. Leland had other theories.” Boro’s deep, solemn voice was amused.

  “Oh. I’m fine, I just went for a walk. Sorry I didn’t come back, but it was kinda late when I was done.” Not knowing if Iyah wanted anyone to know she had been there, Daniel decided to change the subject. “Ekani sent you, eh? You two an item then?”

  Boro rumbled a laugh, “No, I don’t like my women so tiny. Women should be round and lush, not scrawny like a child.”

  “Scrawny? We’ll have to ask her about that one,” said Daniel, thinking of Ekani’s small, but definitely feminine figure.

  “Perhaps it would be better to keep that between ourselves. Scrawny she may be, but she carries the wrath of a woman many times her size.”

  Daniel laughed. “You’d think that a big fellow like you would be braver. I think you could take her in a fair fight.”

  “My father, who is very wise, says that a smart man need not sit in the fire to roast nuts.”

  “Um. I guess that’s … true. Hey, I’m going to be late for Master Giric’s class if I don’t run, catch you later on?”

  “Of course. But before I forget, here’s that book I promised you. You can keep it, I’m finished with it.” Boro handed Daniel the book he had been reading in the hallway. He and Boro had never discussed a book that he could recall.

  “Oh. Thanks. See you later.”

  Boro waved and strode off. Daniel put the book in his backpack for later, his heart pounding. He was pretty proud of himself for the way he handled the unexpected exchange.

  He stopped by a men’s room on the way to Master Giric’s studio, slipped into a stall and locked it. Like all of the bathrooms, it was immaculate, as if bodily fluids didn’t dare touch the imported marble and handcrafted tile. He hung his backpack on the gleaming brass hook inside the door and opened it.

  The sound of the zipper was loud and echoey, causing Daniel to stop halfway through and then finish opening it in little jerks. Finally freed, he examined the book, which was titled, The Veil: Properties and Mechanics by Doctor Bruce Wolternel.

  Inside were pages and pages of math and incomprehensible diagrams floating above captions that all seemed to feature the words “obviously” and “clearly.” In the center of the book was a small
slip of paper with Bruce’s handwriting on it.

  It read, “Planning nearly done. Be ready. If you need to contact me, send word through Ekani or Boro. We should not be seen together at this stage. —Bruce.”

  Daniel walked the rest of the way to class self-consciously, navigating through the crowded hallways with a blank expression on his face, sure that he looked like he was up to something. He finally reached the studio and slipped inside with a sigh of relief, putting his bag down in its usual spot near the practice mat.

  Master Giric was already there, reading a glossy magazine about yachts that, judging by the ads, seemed to cater to a class of people that spent their entire lives drinking champagne at sea and buying expensive watches.

  “Find that perfect yacht yet, sir?” asked Daniel with a smile.

  “Not yet, although this new Lyman Morse eighty-footer is tempting. Needs more range, maybe.” He tossed the magazine down on the table. “I’ve still got a few more years before I retire, so there’s no hurry. Besides, I suspect I enjoy the looking more than the having, if you get right down to it.”

  They both moved to the mat and sat down. Daniel centered himself, put his hands on his knees, and sat expectantly while Master Giric reached out to lightly touch Daniel’s Arc, as had become their custom. Daniel brought up the meadow and the stars, carefully showing the celestial pattern of far away worlds that he had so painstakingly memorized. After a long moment, Master Giric spoke.

  “This is very well done, Daniel, but I don’t think we need it any more.”

  “Sir?”

  “It’s a lie, son. A brilliant one, but give this old man a little credit. As amazing as this bit of artistry is, it isn’t perfect. Every so often I can get a sense of it, like a bright stage in the middle of a vast darkness, or a lone boat on the waves. Let go of it and show me what you really see.”

  Daniel said nothing, his mind racing. Master Giric sighed and sat back, breaking the contact between them.

  “I’m not completely ignorant of your situation. I hear things, being the great and respected teacher that I am. Show me the truth and maybe it will turn out that you have more options than you think. What do you say? Trust me?”

  In his gut, Daniel felt like it was a mistake, but if Master Giric already knew something was up, then he wasn’t really risking anything. Besides, he liked the old guy and if he was willing to offer help, he couldn’t afford to turn it down.

  Daniel nodded and held out his arm and closed his eyes. After he felt Master Giric’s grip, he started over. Again they were standing in an airy darkened field, with the twilight sky miles above them. Again they gazed upon the imaginary constellations of distant Sanctums. Then the sky brightened in a false dawn, washing out the stars. The ground grew indistinct and the air thickened, pressing down on them. In moments they went from standing outdoors under a black sky to being bodiless points of reference in an endless sea full of currents large and small, each in a slightly different shade of emerald, each slightly luminous.

  All around them, near and far, were hard points of darkness, immovable jetties in the Veil that forced currents to swirl around them. The feel of them was so starkly different from the surrounding flux that they could be picked out much easier than in the strictly visual metaphor of Master Giric’s teaching.

  Daniel relaxed and waited for Master Giric to say something. He had to wait a long time.

  “I knew it was a sea,” said Master Giric thickly. “In my heart I knew it was a sea.”

  “I like to think so, but this might just be how my mind interprets things. Who knows if we can actually perceive the Veil in a way that represents the reality of it. But it feels right to me.” Daniel could feel the Master reaching out and lightly touching the Sanctums one by one, getting his bearings.

  “They’re all here. But I don’t sense your new one. Are you keeping it hidden?”

  “No, sir. I don’t know why I can’t find it like this. But I’m pretty sure that if I imagine it, the same way we do with a Sanctum, I can Walk there. I don’t know why that is.”

  “I see. Well, that’s enough, you can let go of it now. I don’t mean to wear you out.” Daniel relaxed and let it slip away. He opened his eyes and ran his hands roughly over his face. Veil perception always left him far more drained than the more physically active classes he had in the afternoons.

  Master Giric looked thoughtful. “I wonder if that’s how the Founder saw the Veil. It’s said that he came to this world without a Sanctum to guide him, much the same way that you yourself reached this new world of yours. Maybe that’s also why he can’t be located. As long as he only travels to worlds without Sanctums, then we’d never find him.”

  “I remember you saying something about the fact that he left. I wasn’t sure if you meant that he died, though.”

  Master Giric shrugged. “He may still be alive, nobody knows. It’s a great mystery. See, in the beginning, Calvin Burchard was just a man. A wealthy landowner and minor nobility in England, but a man nonetheless. Then one day he Walked to a new world, the first man to cross the Veil as far as anyone knows, and he became the Founder. He moved his household, and eventually his entire estate here, founding the Guild with his own people and creating Walker Hall with construction material bought and moved in secret. He imported hundreds of settlers, teachers, men of science, and soldiers, all to create what he thought of as his own country, where he could rule as King. In those first decades they learned much and began to spread out to other worlds. Inter-world trade brought vast wealth, and the ability to strike from perfect safety brought power. They say for the first hundred years or so it was glorious, like something out of a fairytale.”

  “So what happened?”

  “The same thing that always happens. No amount of wealth could keep greed at bay, no amount of power could satisfy. Calvin’s ministers began fighting amongst themselves for territory, for key people, for the right to sell new cures and weapons across the Veil. He kept things together until his two best friends, Francis and Vincent, attempted to assassinate him and take over the Guild. They were powerful men, potent in all three disciplines, and godlike compared to everyone else in the small community here at the time. They were so used to their overwhelming superiority that they could not fathom the notion that The Founder could stand up to the both of them together.

  “The story goes that they called him out one night at a dinner party. He dropped them so fast that the first one hadn’t hit the floor before the second one was falling. The next day he called all of his top men together and created the council as we know it today. He gave them control of the Guild and left it all behind in disgust. Every time a new world is found, the council fears that he’ll be there, as if he left only to return and take their power from them.” Master Giric shook his head. “Everyone thinks that power brings security, but what it really brings is fear.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Daniel said, “I can understand why he left.”

  “Can you?”

  Daniel thought of Bruce and the lives depending on him. And Saul’s warning. And the threats from Vincent. “Sometimes I’d give anything to get away from it all and just live my life without any responsibility to anyone or anything. Just live for myself and be free.”

  “Well, everyone has a dream. Are you sure that’s yours?”

  Daniel just shrugged.

  Master Giric stood up. “I’ll stick to my own small dreams,” he said, picking up his magazine. “But I wish you well with yours all the same.” He looked thoughtful and scratched his chin. “My next report is due at the end of the week, but we needn’t meet any more. Maybe that’ll give you some time to work on your dream.”

  He winked at Daniel, tucked his magazine under his arm, and strode out of the studio.

  14

  Daniel was walking back to his room when the assassin shot him.

  He was in one of the many identical wood-paneled hallways between class and his apartment when, ten feet in front
of him, a bulky figure leaned out of the right-hand wall like a ghost.

  The man’s head was covered by one of the helmets worn by the campus guards, his features obscured by black Plexiglas, and both hands were wrapped around a pistol with the unmistakable fat cylinder of a silencer attached to the barrel.

  Without warning or hesitation the gunman snapped off a shot, then jerked back into what Daniel could now see was an opening in the hallway wall.

  The gunshot was a hell of a lot louder than Daniel expected, and was accompanied by an incandescent burst of pain as the bullet smashed into the center of Daniel’s chest.

  His body stopped working. He couldn’t breathe, and his arms and legs felt distant and insubstantial. The world stuttered and his view of the hallway was replaced by a view of the ceiling.

  He lay on his back, blinking tears from his watering eyes for what seemed like an eternity, until all of a sudden something in his chest unclenched and he was able to take a long shuddering gasp, inhaling air and fire in equal measures. He pushed himself upright with clumsy arms and the bullet fell into his lap.

  He picked it up and examined it, wide-eyed. The soft lead pellet was flattened and still warm. Daniel’s other hand came up and gingerly touched his breastbone. His entire chest was a bright ache so painful that the skin was numb, all other sensations lost in the onslaught.

  The assassin had been a frighteningly good shot, managing to lean out, fire, and vanish in a split-second, while still hitting Daniel dead in center mass. Fortunately, the spider silk armor under his clothes had stopped the bullet from entering his body, just as Saul had said it would. Even so, only the unearthly toughness of a Channeler had kept the impact from shattering his breastbone like a china plate. Otherwise he might be trying to suck air through lungs clogged with bone splinters and blood by now.