Center of the Universe

by N E Riggs

  “It doesn’t look anything like the area where I first came to Bantong,” he said. There, every building had been different, some vastly so. But the architecture here was consistent and without frills, all solidly practical. Only the buildings used by Lost Priests had bells on them, but other than that nothing stuck out to him.

  “You arrived in Gimoki,” Brigid said. “It’s on another continent. Lots of travelers live there, and they like to have houses that remind them of their home worlds.”

  David nodded. He could use more things that reminded him of Earth. The jeans were great, but they weren’t enough.

  From Kumarkan, they drove next into Valal, home of the Sword Priests, and David paid a great deal more attention. Valal was larger than Kumarkan, at least three times the size. There was an executive center here too, of a similar build to the one in Kumarkan, called the Inda Military Compound and surrounded by other buildings. Really, it looked almost identical to Kumarkan, except it had carvings of swords instead of bells. David ignored the architecture as soon as he saw Sword Priests wandering down the sidewalks. Even standing around casually, they still exuded a sense of barely contained danger. The idea of himself being that effortlessly skilled appealed highly to David.

  Brigid soon flew past them, pointing out more buildings of interest. Halfway through Valal, they passed a bank of gateways through which cars flew in both directions. David glowered at them, wishing one went home. “What are gateways anyway?” he asked. “Some kind of magic?”

  “David, there’s no such thing as magic!” Brigid laughed loudly. “Talking like that around here will just make you look primitive!”

  He scowled and stared ahead. “Well, what are they, then?” he asked. They certainly sounded like magic to him.

  “Gateways were created by the Yesterlords and Aeons. They connect two locations in space. They’re drawn to people, the more the better. You won’t often find gateways on uninhabited worlds, which is why we have a space force. They take a lot of power, which is why they come and go. They usually appear in pairs a few hours or days apart, but not always.” She glanced at him briefly. “I can explain the wormhole science, if you’d like.”

  “Don’t bother,” he said, slumping down in his seat. He was still smarting over that primitive remark. “I wouldn’t understand.” Science had never been his best subject. Except when he’d convinced John to help him make cherry bombs during Chemistry. That had been fun.

  “There are some basic explanations in The Guide,” Brigid said, “if you’d rather read it there.”

  He drifted lower in his seat. He saw the part of the book that talked about gateways, but he hadn’t bothered to read it. He’d just assumed they were magic, and that other parts of The Guide were more important. He supposed he should stop skimming.

  After a few minutes’ silence, Brigid turned to David and said softly, “I didn’t mean that remark about being primitive, you know. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  He blinked and sat upright. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m not mad.”

  Brigid’s shoulders relaxed, and she smiled easily once again. “Oh, I’m glad. Well, enough of Valal. Let’s move on to Thul, shall we?”

  “Sounds good,” David said smiling back. Brigid’s grin turned even wider, almost blinding. She was naturally an attractive woman, but smiling like that she turned gorgeous. David stared so long he missed the first few things she said about Thul. Without thinking about what he saw saying, David asked, “So in Bantong, do priests have to be, you know, celibate?” Because, with lovely women like Brigid in Bantong, there was no way he was going to take a vow of chastity.

  She laughed. “No, of course not. We take other vows, vows of obedience and loyalty and service, but nothing like that.”

  “Good,” David said. “Whatever you do, you can’t fall in love,” Cethon’s voice echoed in his head. He pushed the memory aside. “So, which priests live in Thul?”

  “Heart Priests, the healers.”

  David nodded. He didn’t catch much about Thul, as he was too busy staring at Brigid. She was flirting with him, and had been for days, he was sure of it. David had a string of girlfriends back on Earth, but none of them had been as good looking as Brigid, or as friendly or kind or intelligent... He could go on for some time about everything that made Brigid wonderful. But Cethon’s words repeated themselves again in his mind, and he closed his eyes briefly. Had she really meant that warning? Because he could very easily allow himself to fall for Brigid.

  Brigid smiled at him again. He grinned back, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted.

  5

  The Last Command

  The targets flew around the room, jerking about and changing directions abruptly. David took a deep breath and adjusted his grip on Bramira. “Start!” came Brigid’s voice over the loud speaker.

  He jumped into action. He flung out Bramira at the target closest to himself. It tore directly through it, the heavy fabric no match for Bramira, and continued on to the target beyond that, ripping through that as well. The other targets swung closer to David. He rolled out of the way of one that came at him from the left, catching Bramira and throwing it again. It soared in an effortless arc, cutting through three more targets and the wire which suspended a fourth. David ran across the room, zigzagging whenever a target got too close to him. Bramira never remained in his hand for more than a moment before he threw it again.

  One more throw and David sheared through the last two targets. He caught Bramira and stood in the middle of the training room, surrounded by limp wires and mangled fabric.

  With a grin, he turned to the control center, looking through the glass at Brigid. “How was that?”

  She opened the door and hurried down the steps to meet him on the floor. “That was fantastic! As good as any Sword Priest I’ve ever seen!”

  “I’m just glad you found this place! It’s fantastic!”

  He’d gotten used to Bramira so quickly that the stationary targets in the first practice room no longer offered any challenge. Brigid had taken him here, where she could control moving targets, making it more like a real battle.

  “You’ve worked hard, David, and I think you’re ready for the test,” Brigid said.

  “I’d better be. It’s this afternoon.” David hung Bramira from a clip on his belt that Brigid gave him. He’d gotten used to its weight and no longer feared cutting his leg on its edge as he walked. He couldn’t imagine hurting himself with Bramira. All the times he’d caught it, it had never cut his hand. Not even those first few catches when he should have cut himself.

  Brigid patted his back. “You’ve worked hard these last few days. Come on. Let me buy you some lunch, then we’ll go to Valal.”

  David grinned and followed her out of the gymnasium. After a short trip in the elevator, they reached the restaurant level. Brigid linked arms with him and led him a fair distance before abruptly dragging him inside a restaurant before he could read the name. They passed people of every color of the rainbow, wearing every type of clothes imaginable and quite a few David hadn’t been able to imagine. He barely blinked at the sight. Ten days on Bantong and he’d grown used to any number of mad sights.

  Brigid ordered for both of them, which was good since David didn’t know what any of the items on the menu were. “How come you don’t have robots?” he asked as the waiter left the table. “You’ve got other cool tech.”

  “We do have automation and computers, but no androids. They’re common on some worlds, but not Bantong. Artificial intelligence is considered an abomination against Aeons and everything natural. Besides—” she grinned broadly, “—we need jobs for travelers.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Still, if I can’t have magic, I’d like to have robots.” He sat back in his chair, looking around. He didn’t gape anymore, but there were still no end of amazing sights in this world. He watched a couple eating food directly off their plates – not even picking it up with their hands, but slurping it up noisily. He finally t
urned away, realizing he’d been staring. Outside the restaurant, a man in a Lost Priest jacket was leading a small family around, pointing out sights. The family looked like they could have been from Earth, his Earth. But there were dozens of worlds that were very much like his own. That family of travelers probably felt just as lost as he had a few days ago.

  In ten days, he’d grown used to Bantong. He didn’t cringe when he looked outside his window. He’d taken to watching television in the evenings and had discovered the news, dramas, sit-coms, and even soap operas. Bantong, despite its first appearance, wasn’t that different from Earth. He now longed to see more of it. Other than that one trip with Brigid, he hadn’t even been outside of the Hagen. It still wasn’t home, but since he was stuck here for now, he ought to enjoy it.

  After lunch, he’d go back to Valal, where the Sword Priests lived. He couldn’t wait.

  He was still learning where things were on Bantong and what the different sects of priests did. He faithfully studied The Traveler’s Guide to Bantong every evening during commercial breaks. He hadn’t wanted to learn about Bantong at first, but he’d slowly become more willing. This amazing place was giving him a chance to try and live out his dreams. He should try his best to be worthy of his dream.

  There was a paper-thin television on the wall not far from where he and Brigid sat — a com pad, he thought, since the natives seemed to call every screen that. It replayed footage of Cethon’s funeral. David winced but forced himself to watch it. Cethon’s funeral had been six days ago, but most of the channels were still showing clips from it. The funeral itself had been like nothing he’d expected, with neither a body or coffin on display at any point and everyone present wore red. If the news had said what had happened to her body, he’d missed it. Even six days later, the news was constantly interviewing people about her life and her legacy.

  Cethon had been the previous Sword Cardinal. David hadn’t paid that much mind before, but now he knew what that meant. She’d been the leader of all the Sword Priests. Along with the Cardinals from the other priest sects – Law, Lost, Beloved, Heart, and Passion – she’d been one of the rulers of Bantong, just under High Priestess Anan.

  On the television, the current Sword Cardinal, Syatog Golath – a dark-haired monster of a man who stood over seven feet tall by David’s estimate – was talking about his memories of Cethon and how she’d influenced his life. It was strange, listening to the interviews and looking at pictures and watching videos. No one said much about how Cethon had died, just that she’d fallen in battle. David wondered why such an important person had given her life for his. He tried not to think about it, but he couldn’t help it. Cethon was young when she died – only forty-six. She’d been a mighty warrior, as he’d seen firsthand.

  She told him that she’d come to him, even knowing that it would cost her life. He hoped that she and Brigid were right, and that he would do amazing things with his life. Then maybe Cethon’s sacrifice would be worth it.

  The clip on the television changed, now showing the Passion Cardinal, Supsha Lomudra, a good looking middle-aged woman with brown skin and wavy brown hair. She’d been the last person to speak with Cethon before Cethon had retired as Sword Cardinal almost four years ago. David wondered why Cethon had retired – she obviously had still been able to fight. He’d watched the news, hoping to find out, but people skirted the issue rather obviously. All he’d gleamed was that there had been an incident in a place called Ys, an incident that no one seemed willing to talk about.

  He glanced suddenly at Brigid, who’d also been watching the television. She knew about the incident, he was sure. “Brigid,” he said slowly. “I’ve been wondering about Cethon. They said on the news that she retired after some tragedy on Ys. What happened?”

  Brigid winced. “That was a dark day. We lost so much.”

  He leaned over the table. “What did you lose?”

  She jerked to the side. “Oh, look. Here’s our food. Come, come, time to eat!” A waiter – who looked like any waiter on Earth, including a white apron – placed their dishes on the table and left. Brigid picked up a spoon and dug into the dark pink, semi-gelatinous mound on her plate. David looked down at his own plate suspiciously. It looked quite disgusting. He sighed and picked up his spoon.

  To his surprise, it tasted good: of strawberries and cream and maybe a hint of lemon and nuttiness. He dug in with gusto.

  “So I looked up the details of the traditional Sword Priest test for you,” Brigid said between bites.

  It was obviously a distraction to keep him from asking more about Cethon and Ys. Since he did need to know about the test, so he motioned for Brigid to continue.

  “There are only six other people than you signed up to take the test today. The traditional division’s numbers have been down lately. You won’t see most of them, since everyone takes the test at a different time. Each person gets a chance to show off their fighting skills against the Sword Priests running the test. I told them you’ll need other targets, though. Since you can’t use a practice weapon, after all.”

  “You mentioned Bramira?” David asked.

  “Not by name. But if it looks like they’ll reject you, you could mention it to them.” Brigid grinned. “They’ll know the name. Everyone does. And, if they’re thinking about turning you down, it might be enough for them to change their minds.”

  David grinned too. “That seems damn underhanded.”

  “I’m your Lost Priest, David. My job is to see you happy and settled and productive.” Her eyes glinted merrily. “No one said I had to be completely honest about it.”

  He laughed. They finished the rest of their meal in companionable silence. He wondered what Brigid would do if he did successfully become a Sword Priest. He’d seen her every day since coming to Bantong, and it wouldn’t be the same without her. When the gateway back to Earth appeared, she’d tell him about it, but would he see her apart from that? Her job was to help travelers like himself. He wasn’t the first person she’d placed and he wouldn’t be the last. She’d made such a huge impact on him. He wondered if he’d made even a faint impression on her. He thought he had. He hoped he had.

  Brigid paid for lunch, and they went back to the elevators. To David’s surprise, she didn’t take him to the parking garage but to a floor he’d not been to before. People milled all over, busy and focused. A moment later, David caught sight of the gateways. He could see twelve of them, standing side by side, people streaming in and out of them.

  “I thought we’d have to drive to find a gateway,” he said.

  “If we were going elsewhere, we would,” Brigid said. “But there are gateways to each of the priest districts. We do have to work together, after all.” She led him to the line for the fifth gateway.

  “Are they safe?” he asked, peering through.

  Brigid laughed. “Of course they are!”

  David stared at the edge of the gateway, which glowed blue. He’d never been that close to the edge of a gateway before. “Can it cut you?” The people he saw avoided the edges. He remembered the way the gateway he’d first come through had disappeared. “What happens if a gateway closes and you’re only halfway though?”

  “So long as part of you is in the gateway, you’ll come through just fine,” Brigid said, shaking her head. “The edges won’t cut you, but sometimes people walk through too quickly and catch themselves. It’s easy to trip, so do be careful.” She paused and added, “Oh, and if you ever see a gateway that isn’t blue, don’t go through it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just don’t,” Brigid said. “Only blue gateways are safe.”

  He hadn’t been through a gateway since the one that took him to Kumarkan that first day. He stared at the faint, blue glow that surrounded it. What would it feel like if he touched it? Brigid said it wouldn’t hurt, but he wondered if it would tingle. After a short wait, he and Brigid walked through the gateway to Valal. He thought he felt a faint shiver as he walked through, but it
was so brief and so faint that he might have imagined it.

  The other side looked identical to the room he’d been in: full of gateways and people hurrying about on important business. He wondered if he was in the main administration building of Valal that Brigid had pointed out to him when she’d given him the tour of Pardis – she mentioned a name, but he’d forgotten.

  Brigid consulted a map beside the elevator then led him inside and hit a button. As it moved, David suddenly realized that he’d be taking his test soon. He bit his lip and rubbed his palms against his thighs, being careful to avoid Bramira. What if he didn’t pass? He couldn’t just laze around in Kumarkan, dependent on Brigid. The Traveler’s Guide to Bantong made it clear that all travelers were expected to work during their stay. There were other jobs he could probably do, as Brigid had suggested. But he didn’t want some mindless, boring job like he’d had back home. He wanted to be a Sword Priest, he wanted to help people. He wanted to be a hero.

  A part of him was waiting for the moment when he was told he couldn’t be a Sword Priest. Everything he tried he failed at. There was nothing he was good at, nothing he liked. He’d make a fool of himself during the test, and the Sword Priests would laugh that someone of his pathetic talents had ever thought he could succeed.

  With a soft ping, the elevator doors opened. David stepped out behind Brigid on autopilot, his steps wooden and jerky. His heart rate increased as he stared at the large room. It looked much like the gymnasium where he’d spent the last few days training.

  He saw a man hacking at a target with a lance. The man, who was probably about twenty and so powerfully built he’d make an Olympic athlete weep in envy, wielded the long, heavy weapon as if it weighed nothing. Despite his muscles, he was quick and nimble on his feet.

  David swallowed hard as he watched the man. He was quite sure that he was nowhere near that good. He could feel his chances of passing the test decrease.

  An older man in a brown uniform with black edging stood near the man with the lance. Despite his white hair and stoop, he still looked powerful, his stance graceful and easy. He watched the younger man with cool eyes, occasionally nodding to himself. David realized the old man must be the examiner. His stomach threatened to empty itself. He fought it and, for the moment, won.