Vrin: Ten Mortal Gods (34 page)

“I’m sorry, no, of course not.” He crouched down and cut the bonds from my wrists and ankles. “It must be very hard for you to be without your powers, but the implications of this are remarkable. It means the gods are human.” His head cocked and his eyes focused on a distant point. “You said you were sleeping. How could you be sleeping, in the dream.”

That
was a very good question. One I wished I knew the answer to. “I did not wake up where I expected, so I don’t have an answer to that.”

“This person you are now was not the one who was sleeping?”

“No. In fact, I met the person I am now while I was still in Sam’ Dejal.” I started to rise.

Arganis helped me up and into a chair, his voice prattling the whole time. “Amazing! When you were Sam’ Dejal, you actually met this person you are now? Did he know you, or was he someone else before you inhabited this body?”

“He was frozen.”

“
Frozen?
Had
he
always been frozen?”

“No. I froze-- I mean-- this body froze while I was reading Davata Notrals at the capital. I had lived a whole life up to that point.”

His furry brows danced.
“Amazing!”

“I’m glad
you
think so.”

He brushed me off. “I’m sorry for my enthusiasm. I must remind myself that you are in great danger in this body. Gaza himself is searching for you, and you are without your power. I should not be indulging my petty curiosities. Please, accept my apology.”

“What I mean is, the cognosphere remembers where everyone was standing, how big they were, what time of day it was, the odors, the sounds-- everything, right?”

“Imagine controlling all of those things, location, weight and such, in the
present
simply by telling the cognosphere that what it is recording is
different.”

He looked down at the table, then spoke. “It knows where this candle is, but you can tell it to remember it being elsewhere?”

“Yes. Everything in this world is recorded in a book, for lack of a better word. What has happened in the past cannot be rewritten, but the page that contains the now, the present,
that
can be changed.”

“It doesn’t. But it may be my only way back. See, when a person enters an event cell, the pages of the book are turned back, and he is brought to the page where the event is written.”

“I hope not.” I grimaced. “Hopefully there’s a way to
order
the information. I’ve seen the book before, and I know what it’s supposed to look like. The only problem is, getting back.”

“You just close your eyes...”

“What if I don’t know where my eyes
are?”

“
That
is precisely why I think it will help me. I’m going to leave this world.”

He looked at me intently. “I don’t understand, but I’ll show you what I know.” He went to a trunk in the corner of the cellar, and removed several items from its cover. It made an awful creak as it opened.

“This,” he said, pulling a heavy book from within, “is the book I told you of. It was written by my ancestor Nor’ Trull. In it is all we know about the magic.” He came back over, set the enormous book on the table before me, and opened to the center. The letters and numbers were written in a faded calligraphy. “See these numbers.” He pointed. “They correspond to notes on this.” He pulled a tarnished metal tuning fork from his pocket. It had several tines protruding from a handle. “When I strike this instrument, it tells me what sound I must make with my voice. Such as...” He hit the tuning fork against the table. The sound resonated off the wet cellar walls, and Arganis joined his voice with it. The two became a perfect match-- and I felt something brush past me.

“Only because we are far from The Circle. If we were closer, it would not move, and you would see it as I have envisioned it in my mind.”

“You communicated what you were thinking, through music?”

He laughed. “It is not that amazing, I’m afraid. The magic can be anything I want it to be. The sound is just what tells it to listen to me. There are actually only five notes.”

My jaw went slack. “Only five? How does it know?”

“The magic is like a gas, and I make it a solid. It responds to my thoughts. All I do, is give it the sound, then imagine what I want.”

“What are the sounds?”

“Like I said, there are five sounds. Each corresponds with a command. The commands are:
create
,
destroy
,
move
, and
move m
e.”

“That’s only four.”

“Yes. I don’t know what the fifth one is.”

“Doesn’t it say in the book?” I looked down at the page. “Speaking of the book, this is a large book for only five notes. I thought you said he catalogued all the vibrations.”

Arganis smiled, and the smile touched into his eyes. “He didn’t realize till the end of the book that it was his thoughts producing the effects.” He flipped the book to the last page. On it were the five notes with their corresponding command word. The description for the fifth note was scratched beyond recognition.

“Fascinating.” I ran my eyes down the page, pronouncing the words in my head.
Create. Destroy. Move. Move me.
“The first three I understand, but what is
move me?”

He stepped back and began to sing, and as the song filled the room, his feet lifted from the ground, and he floated to the other side of the room.

THE COGNOSPHERE

001001011001110

The lesson was over, and I waited patiently. Soon the stairs began to creak, and a dark form entered the room. As he came into the light of the candles I recognized him. I could not remember his name, but the face was familiar. He was a stout bald man, and was garbed in clothing I knew well, the uniform of the Sky Searchers League. His eyes gleamed as he approached. It was clear he recognized me as well. This was not uncommon, I was sky searcher to the throne, and there wasn’t a sky searcher in the kingdom who did not know my name-- a name made even more famous by my recent run in with Gaza.

Gadson took a leather bag off his shoulder and handed it to Arganis. Arganis opened it and held it out to me. “Do you mind if Gadson stays with us? I would feel more comfortable.”

“Not at all,” I said, reaching into the bag. I drew out the event cell. It was cold and hard in my hands. I lifted my eyes toward Arganis. “Are you ready?”

His eyebrows raised.“ What's more important is, are
you
ready?”

I shrugged. “Ready as I'll ever be, I guess. If I don't come out in a few seconds, you know what to do.” I began to lift the cell to my forehead.

Emptiness
penetrating my very being.

There was a sound, but I could not tell from where. It grew in intensity. Growing louder. Drowning out the rhythm of my heart.

Sensory input ENGULFED me,
like a carnival ride out of control!
Terror
welled up. If it didn’t
stop,
I would be
destroyed!
Overpowering! Intensity increasing! Beyond my ability-to process. Must see
beyond!
Beyond the madness!
I MUST access the program!
My mind reached out into the maelstrom. And I heard a voice scream,
“STOP!”

Darkness enveloped me.

Was that
my
voice? It sounded like me.

I heard it again, way off in the distance. “List program.”

The program began to scroll before me, or was it
through
me? I perceived it on many levels, all things at once: letters on a screen, smells, sounds, events... No dimension, yet all dimensions at the same time. I explored it like a thought, and it revealed its code to me as thought. In it I saw the creation of Vrin, and the end of Robert Helm.

A little girl came up behind her dad, sitting amid a pile of papers on his bed. He turned, and she hugged him. She put her cheek on his. “How long are you going to work?” She pouted.

He gave her a tender smile. “We
do.
I just haven't shown you yet.”

Another flash, another scream, and another memory.

“
Honey!
You forgot your briefcase!”

The man ran back up the walkway, reaching for the case. But his wife held it from him. Playfully she grabbed his tie and pulled him in close. “You look sexy in your new suit.”

He gave her a quick kiss and a half smile. “Sorry about the meeting tonight.”

“You are a great man, Robert. And great men must make great sacrifices.” She straightened his tie. “And don’t forget, we're in this thing together.”

She squeezed his neck, then looked up at her mother with an expectant look. The woman rolled her eyes, then obediently turned around. Grinning with satisfaction, the little girl clinched her hand into a fist, then swooped her pinkie like a J. Her dad did the same. Gently she pressed her tiny fist against her father’s and whispered, “tap, tap, tap.”