Birthright-The Technomage Archive (14 page)

As a scholar, his preparation for the Rites was straightforward: a research project on a topic that had never been researched before and could be archived for future use by the Charons. Ceril had found early on in his training that his interests were mythology and religion. If he couldn’t be a farmer and help Gramps out, then he would at least honor the impact his grandfather’s stories had on his life.

Years of work and research, all finished. Ceril touched the CONFIRM SEND? button on the tablet’s screen. He looked up at the swirling colors of the hyperspace envelope that surrounded the ship. Absentmindedly, Ceril held his hands out as he leaned over and rested his arms on his knees. The Flameblade teleported from palm to palm.

“
Careful with that thing,” came a voice from behind him.

Ceril sat straight up and the sword disappeared. “I always am. How are you tonight, Roman?”

“
Just dandy,” the older man said. “May I sit?”

“
Of course.”

“
I got your thesis a moment ago,” Roman said.

“
Good,” Ceril said. “I think it’s finished.”

“
I’m sure it is, son. It was finished by my count over a month ago.”

Ceril shook his head. “It wasn’t. It had a lot of stuff wrong with it that I think I’ve fixed. I’m not sure, though. I may give it one more pass later and resend it, if that’s okay.”

“
It’s not,” Roman said. “It’s fine the way it is. You have to let go at some point, Ceril.”

Ceril just sat there.

“
What’s on your mind, Ceril? I can’t remember the last time you were in here, especially on this tier. What’s changed?”

“
Nothing’s changed,” Ceril said. “I just thought it was appropriate for me to finish my work up here, that’s all.”

“
Mmm hmmm.” Roman nodded. “It’s good work, Ceril.”

It was Ceril’s turn to be noncommittal. “Mmm hmmm,” he replied.

“
I mean it. You’ve done something in these past five years that no one else was able to do for three hundred, maybe more.”

“
It’s not that big a deal,” Ceril said. And to him, it wasn’t. His whole research project had been something he loved to do and would have been doing anyway: reading and listening to stories.

“
It is. Ceril, you’ve parsed every legend and every myth—that we know of—that deals with the Charons and cross-referenced them, indexed them, with every major religious text on Erlon.”

Ceril nodded. “I know.”

“
My point is, Ceril, that you—and you alone—have brought more to light about how the Charons are understood than anyone in recent history. And given the current state of affairs with the Untouchable and that group of pretenders he’s started, that’s more valuable than you know.”

“
I like stories,” Ceril said and shrugged. “I wish I had been able to get some more in there about religions in Instances. I think if I dug a little further, I would be able to make some connection between the original Charons and some of the societies who claim to have met their deities. I just didn’t have enough time, not with Bryt’s regimen, too.”

“
You’ll get no sympathy from me regarding Bryt,” Roman said. “You know as well as I do that you wouldn’t have had to work double-time as a soldier if you hadn’t killed Ethan Triggs.”

“
I know that very well, Roman. Thank you. It’s just, with this Untouchable going around claiming to be a Charon and killing and attacking like he’s doing, I can’t help but think I should have been in an Instance somewhere tracing that particular connection. Figuring out something that would make him tick, you know? See if there’s something from years ago that might get us close to him. Right now, all we’ve got are stories that prove what Saryn said the very first day: some people worshipped—worship—us as gods. So what?”

“
You’re smarter than that, Ceril.”

“
What?” Ceril asked defensively. “What do you mean?”

“
I mean, think about what you just said.”

“
That some people worship us as gods? What about it?”

“
Ceril, come on. You’re killing me here.”

“
No, that was Ethan Triggs.” Ceril stood up. “I killed
him
here. Right here. Where I’m standing. I’m frustrating you, maybe, but I’m not killing you.”

Roman sighed. “Poor choice of words. I’m sorry.”

“
S’okay.”

“
But really, Ceril, are you really unable to see the connection here?”

“
I think so, Roman. I just don’t get it. Maybe I’m too close to it all. If it didn’t tie directly into one of my chapters, I haven’t been able to think about it.”

“
Maybe you’re right. I get that.” Roman stood up and went over to the railing. He leaned over it and said, “Don’t you think, Ceril, that a man who’s claiming to be the Untouchable, who seems to be trying to build an army of impostor Charons, would try to recruit from sympathetic groups to build his ranks, to find people?”

“
So?”

“
You can’t be this dense,” Roman said. His voice became harder. “Think about it, Ceril, and stop being so obtuse.”

Ceril sighed and began pacing across the terrace. As he did, the Flameblade appeared in one hand and then the other, as though he were juggling the flaming sword without it throwing it into the air.

“
Can you stop that?” Roman asked. “With the sword?”

“
Oh, sorry,” Ceril said and the sword disappeared but never reappeared. “Just a habit. I don’t even think about it anymore.”

Roman nodded and let the young man think. Ceril stopped pacing after just a few steps and looked at his mentor. “You’re not seriously implying that my research is going to let us find the Untouchable when the best soldiers we’ve got haven’t been able to ferret him out, are you?”

“
No, I’m not,” Roman said. “But I’m saying now that you’re finished with your thesis and have everything tied up, we can really look at it and see if your connections lead us any closer to finding him and maybe saving a few lives. I also think that there’s some validity to one of your theories about Instancing and archetypal influence that may be of use in this.”

“
What do you mean?” Ceril asked. He thought about that part of his thesis. It was a good idea, but he had no direct proof for it. He thought that adjacent Instances within the same geographic region might develop similar myths and legends. Worlds that existed within the same general area as, say, Ennd's Academy might be more likely to evolve societies that revered technology. There was hard evidence that adjacent Instances were often physically alike. So why could Instances not share some defining characteristic to their legends? It was all just ideas, though—theory.

“
I’m saying that I want you to do the research you haven’t had time to do,” Roman said. “That’s all.”

“
You want me to Instance hop and see if I can find any connection to the Untouchable, you mean? Something you can use to figure out where he’s hiding, recruiting, something like that?”

“
Something like that.”

“
Is this when my Rites start?”

Roman nodded. “Oh-six tomorrow morning. Like I told you this morning. If you had been paying attention.” He stood up. “Welcome to the big leagues, Ceril.”

Chapter Nine

Ceril could hear voices outside his door.

He summoned his Flameblade and held it behind his back as he went to investigate. There were a lot of voices, which told him something was probably very wrong. Most of the time, he might hear a few people during the morning chattering away as they went to breakfast or to the gym, but it would take a lot more than just a few people having a conversation to make the commotion he heard. He saw a throng of both Recruits and professors running down the hall. The only thing that was in that direction was the Instance room. He dismissed his Flameblade and stepped back into his quarters to get dressed, and as he passed his desk, he saw the time.

0713

Oh, that’s lovely,
Ceril thought. Roman had told him to be ready for his mission—his first Rite—at 0600 sharp. He had overslept by an hour, which meant that he had already missed his briefing and subsequently his departure, since that would be half an hour after the briefing. He was a dead man.

Add in whatever was causing this commotion, and he figured that it was going to be a pretty interesting day. Ceril did not care for interesting days. Since his recruitment as a Charon, he had had more than his share of interesting days. Most of the time, he just wanted to skirt by and finish his work.

By the time he was dressed and ready to leave his quarters, Ceril was part of the final few making their way down the corridor.

A pale blonde ponytail bobbed up and down in front of him. “Hey, Saryn,” Ceril said as he came up behind his friend. “Running late?”

She turned toward him, puzzled. “Ceril?” she asked. “What are you doing back here? I figured you'd be first in line for this.”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I think I was supposed to be. I must have forgotten to set an alarm last night because I was supposed to be up over two hours ago and at my briefing at oh-six. Roman said this one was important, like Rites important, and I’m pretty sure that I screwed myself this time.”

“
Rites? He told you about your Rites starting?”

“
Yeah. I gave Roman my thesis last night—”

“
Congratulations, Ternia!” she said and slapped him hard on the back. “I’m jealous.”

Ceril couldn't help but grin. Their friendship—and personalities—often centered on them being from opposite ends of Erlon. Like Ceril, Ternia was mild. It was a temperate and sunny agricultural oasis, while Saryn and Yagh were just the opposite: dry and often unforgiving.

“
When aren’t you jealous of me?” he teased. She slapped his back again, harder. “Oww! Saryn, stop.”

“
Oh, lighten up,” she said. “You’re so delicate.”

He smiled. “Don’t tell Bryt that, or he’ll make me spend another few hours in the tanks.”

“
Tempting…” she said.

“
Shut up. Anyway, what’s going on here?”

“
Well,” she said, “right now, you, I, and almost everyone else on board the
Sigil,
are about to find out just what happens when the ship’s Instancing connection is severed and we drop from hyperspace simultaneously.”

The past few years of training had really educated Ceril. He learned things during his time on the ship that he never would have thought possible, but he had also realized early on that Saryn was always going to be a little ahead of him no matter what he did—except for finishing her thesis. At that moment, though, he had absolutely no idea what Saryn was talking about. She was never
that
far ahead of him.

“
What are you talking about?” he asked. “Lost what connection? And we're out of hyperspace?” Was the blur gone from his window? Did he even look today? He didn’t think he had. He was too caught up in being late. He took it for granted that it was always there, so he hadn't thought to steal a glance in his panic this morning.

Saryn sighed and playfully dropped her shoulders in exasperation. “Yes, we're out of hyperspace. It happened maybe fifteen, twenty minutes ago.”

“
I didn’t think we ever dropped out of hyperspace.”

“
I know, right? That's the whole thing, Ternia. I’ve been thinking, though. About hyperspace. Why are we always in it?”

“
What do you mean?”

“
Well, the
Sigil
always has a hyperspace envelope around it, right?”

“
Until right now, apparently.”

“
Right. And hyperspace is just a way to travel,” Saryn said. “It makes us faster, friction and all that, yadda yadda yadda, yeah?”

Ceril nodded.

“
Well, where are we going? What’s so far away that we’ve had to stay enveloped by hyperspace for at least six years? Probably longer than that. We don’t even know when they actually departed.”

“
What’s your point?”

“
You really are a little dense sometimes, you know that? We’ve been traveling for who-knows-how-long to who-knows-where, and we’ve suddenly stopped and the connection is broken? Don’t you find it a bit odd to be perpetually traveling with no discernible destination?”

“
I can’t say I’ve ever thought about that.”

“
I doubt a lot of people have. But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Now this happened, and I’m kind of wondering if the two things aren’t connected. Did we get to where we’re going?”

Last night’s conversation with Roman came back into Ceril’s mind, and he gulped. “I don’t doubt that we did.” He swallowed again. “Roman told me that my Rites were today.”

Saryn nodded. “Your Rites are today? Be careful, okay, Ceril?”

“
As careful as I can be,” he said. “Maybe that’s what some of this is about. Who knows? Anyway, what were you saying about the connection?”

“
With Ennd's,” Saryn said. “If my thesis research is anywhere near correct, the
Inkwell Sigil
has been maintaining a constant connection to Erlon, to Ennd’s. That way, even though the ship was moving through hyperspace and not occupying the same physical space anymore, the portal would still allow for travel between that Instance and wherever the
Sigil
is. We’ve moved light years away from home, but that open connection makes the universe think we’re standing still, that the whole ship has remained stationary.”

Ceril nodded. He had no idea what Saryn was talking about. “Okay,” he said. He was a newbie philosopher. He liked stories and legends. She was a scientist, a researcher.
Scholar
was far too broad a term, he thought.