Wizard (The Key to Magic) (33 page)

"Both women are level headed. Both readily accepted the necessity of stasis without complaint. There will be no difficulty."

Oyraebos read the name off the control panel of the adjacent coffin. "Prim Olfew? I know this woman. She is more than a medic. She is a freelance spy, of sorts. The Project engaged her services from time to time. She believed that we were unaware of her identity."

Walis looked surprised. "I did not know. We were colleagues, but I never saw her behave in a suspicious or covert manner. Will that be a problem?"

"No. The Project's evaluation of her confirms your own. The other Participant?"

Walis pointed to the next coffin in the row. The name was Nali.

Oyraebos immediately noticed a flashing readout on this one's control panel. "She has a blended genetic makeup."

Walis nodded. "I only became aware of this after she was placed in stasis. Proctor Zem, my section lead, judged that it was significant enough to merit monitoring but not corrective action."

"I concur, but care should be taken to fully inform any future suitors of the potential consequences to progeny."

"I will take responsibility for that."

"You were trained in the operation of the coffins?" To Oyraebos, Walis seemed capable and dedicated.

"Yes."

"Then if you would care to initiate the revival process with Medic Prim, I will see to the other young woman."

Though he had already taken it for granted, Oyraebos noted the solicitous manner with which Walis aided Prim as she rose from her coffin and took it as confirmation of an established social relationship.

Both young women proved steady and amenable to direction and he dispatched them under Walis' direction to awaken the other medics.

Over the next month, the medics and their teams awakened the entire roster. The facts of their current situation were spread by word of mouth and while grief, shock, and tears were the common reactions, most all came to accept the ancient disaster and adapted to the circumstances in which they had awoken, commiserating with and comforting one another. The few, all Participants, that remained subject to emotional distress were treated with calming spells and bound over into the care of their friends and families.

Only one of the regional leaders, President Llynris of the Republican Chapter, could be located. Present when she was awakened, Oyraebos saw immediately that the stout, sharp-faced woman was noticeably older than when he had seen her last.

"I went in five years after you," she told him, having readily interpreted his look. "All the others chose to be fish rather than pickles. I could not stand the confines of the orbital any longer."

After he gave her a rapid brief, he said, "I expect that we will be making preparations to return to the surface? I would like to begin organizing my section to that end."

"That is for you to decide. You lead the Project now."

This left him aghast.

"You were chosen and promoted when it became clear that the length of the stasis would be prolonged. We felt that a powerful sorcerer with mastery of a broad range of spell disciplines would be best equipped to deal with any eventuality. You were the obvious choice." She shook her head. "None of us believed that it would be this long though."

Never one to shirk his duty, he fell to with determination.

His first thought was to make contact with Orbital A, but all comm attempts failed and visual observation of the distant platform with one of the telescopes in the astronomical blister showed it dark and apparently lifeless.

Disregarding the severe distress this news caused him, he set the organization in motion, directing various sections to check inventories of supplies, verify the function of all systems, dismantle the drone (magical creations had no place managing human affairs), operate the laundries and kitchens, stand watches at critical consoles, and most importantly begin an intensive study the planet below. He made certain that everyone had a job and plenty to do.

After the reports from the planetary section began to come back, he spoke over the announcement system.

"I would like to speak briefly to answer the questions that I know all of you must have. First, know that the Project will continue. As we originally planned, our work will resume. We are members of the Project and the betterment of mankind is our vocation."

"As you all know to some extent, the world that we have found upon awakening is nothing like the one we left when we entered stasis. The wars that we slept to avoid have changed it almost beyond recognition. All that was before is gone. Civilization as we knew it does not exist. What there is of magic is primitive and ineffectual. The vast majority of the inhabitants of the world today appear to be the descendants of those poor souls who were magic deficient. They have no technology at all and live a barbaric existence. In essence, as far as the work of the Project is concerned, the world is a slate that has been wiped clean."

"Clearly, all of us aboard Orbital B, Proctors and Participants, are a unique resource, a pool of the magically adept who can -- and I would venture to say should -- return our abilities to the world at large through a careful program of genetic management."

"We are not trapped here, as some may have been speculating. We have five shuttles and our pilots have certified that all are in perfect operational condition. The Tertiary Launch Site still exists and some of its magics are responding. Our pilots are confident that we will be able to land there and take off without difficulty. In addition, one of our shuttles is a military model with glide capability and it will be able to put down in any large open level area, such as the dried lake bed that we have identified in one of the northern deserts. Within reasonable limitations, we will be able to come and go as we please. We
can
go home."

"As to when that will be, I propose that we send covert scouts to the surface immediately to examine the cultures that exist, learn their languages, and develop an understanding of extant political situations. As we receive information from them, I believe that we should work together to make all preparations necessary to accomplish our evacuation. A tentative schedule agreed to by all the committees would see the removal of all but a standby crew from the orbital within a timeframe of six to eight months."

"I am sure that all of you will agree with me that it is our solemn duty to set the planet --
our
house -- in order. We must suppress the misguided barbarian conflicts that now rage in various locales, establish a proper order -- rational jurisprudence, social support systems, and a modern economy -- and begin to mold a new civilization based upon the best principals of our lost world."

"If there are no substantive objections, I would like to see the first shuttle depart tomorrow."

FORTY-THREE

From where he stood on a bluff above a river called Shiinalao by the tribesmen who were the only ones to have reason to cross it, nhBreen could see the mountain that was his target. He began to enter the lengthy location code into the bracelet for the seventh and final port that would take him to the ice shelf where the crashed flyer lay.

"You will freeze to death with no more clothes than this," Waleck promised.

nhBreen made a sharp slashing gesture with his fist and cast, "
Dhiolazal."

An ethereal barrier that radiated a comfortable warmth took shape around him.

"A thermal glamour? You have remembered another spell?"

"Yes," nhBreen confirmed. "They are all coming back. The damage to my mind has finally begun to heal. Soon I will be rid of all of the deficiencies that have plagued me for five millennia -- including you."

"You
are
me."

"I am Knight-Commander nhBreen, a master sorcerer of the eighth rank. I am proud and I am strong and I am brave."

"nhBreen is a dead man. Waleck, through many guises, is the man that has been given life from his corpse. You are Waleck."

"I am nhBreen."

For a moment, he felt disoriented, then shook his head to clear it and tapped the bracelet.

It was snowing on the mountain and heavy clouds held the ice shelf in a bluish-gray twilight that made him shiver in spite of the fact that the temperature maintained by the thermal glamour was quite balmy. Though fragmentary, memories of imprisonment in his dark and cold tomb had also begun to surface.

To save time, as soon as he located a spot just above the crushed pilot compartment, he cast a focused knife of ethereal fire and began to use it to melt a tunnel down into the ice.

"I thought that you said that your dream showed you chipping the ice away?"

"It did, but foreknowledge predisposes change."

"You change one thing and you change everything."

"My dream is still valid. Minor changes cannot divert the main progression."

"You have regained all of nhBreen's knowledge. You know that under the proper circumstances that even an insignificant change in a primary event has the potential to introduce exponential variation."

"I grow weary of you. Be quiet for a while."

On his return from the glacier, nhBreen took possession of an unused storeroom in Plythtwaelndt. With wards erected across the threshold to insure that he would not be disturbed, he brought in a table and chair to his liking and began the prodigious task of modifying the spells of the port bracelet.

Including the variables necessary to establish the time interval and location matrix, the spell contained exactly two thousand, one hundred ninety-seven Keys, the forth Hidden Significant Number cubed, and he had never previously attempted a composite modulation of such complexity. A single error in the early stages would force him to begin again. A single error in the latter stages would likely eradicate Plythtwaelndt, the Brotherhood of Phaelle, Mhevyr, and everything else within a radius of fifty leagues.

"Khy-list-neq-pol'istorck-mystra-bhylaah-desnheoi-kymosotolot
," he said to apply the four hundred and sixth.

Nearly all of the Keys were such multi-syllabic nonsensical phrases. The spell was not of his devising; it had been presented in its entirety at a secret intelligence briefing at the Bastion and the implication had been that operatives of the Defense Service had stolen it from a Kendis facility.

"This is insane."

"That is not a word that you should use, given that you are a phantom of my nightmares."

"I can feel the flux potential growing. How can you have possibly memorized threefold thirteen Keys?"

"I have not memorized them. I am simply reading off what was written to my mind by my dreams. Now be quiet. These next three hundred and twelve Keys are delicate."

Not stopping to eat or sleep and only taking an occasional sip of water, he worked through the night to complete the spell. For all of its power, the spell could only achieve a limited displacement and thus had to be used before midday coming.

When day broke, he was ready to make the last and most critical gesture.

"It will not work," the phantom argued with some heat. "It
cannot
work. You will kill us both."

nhBreen ignored him, stood up without pause, balanced on the ball of his right foot, and then slowly spun widdershins for seven-tenths of an arc.

Feeling the spell stabilize, he finally smiled as he strapped the bracelet onto his wrist. "It is complete. The adapted modulation will take us to a point exactly forty-nine hours in the past."

"You cannot prevent Mar from escaping into undertime."

"That is true, but I am not going to the bridge. I am going to the Monolith."

"If you harm Telriy, Mar will destroy you. He is a wizard now and there is no place in space and time that you will be able to hide from him."

"I know this."

"Then what do you plan?"

"You will see."

nhBreen checked the contents of his knapsack, took out the
pistol
, and then slid the strap onto his shoulder. He operated the slide of the weapon, dry fired it twice to make sure he was comfortable with the trigger mechanism, then inserted a full clip and took a deep breath as he waited for the precise moment.

"This is suicide."

"Shut up." nhBreen tapped the bracelet.

The sucking scream of undertime was like no magic that the sorcerer had previously experienced and its buffeting energy left him stunned for a number of seconds after he emerged into the dark, dust filled cavity. The blocks of the broken building continued to shift above his head with grating sounds that threatened imminent collapse. The space was only a few paces across and too low for him to straighten to his full height, leaving him in an uncomfortable stoop. Just as his dream had predicted, he had arrived at the rear of the cavity in an alcove formed by the single standing wall section and a leaning column.

Just a little more than an armlength and a half in front of him, Telriy, her newborn, and the two women that nhBreen had foreseen, Yhejia and Aunt Whelsi, were crouched together under a sturdy table. Their backs were to him and they had not noticed his soundless appearance.

"They'll be digging to get us out," Yhejia assured the softly weeping mother.

"We'll make it," Aunt Whelsi agreed, patting Telriy's shoulder. "I've got too much to do to stay in here."

The girl wept not for fear but for sadness, nhBreen knew. She was bound to Mar by ethereal connections woven by emotion, by her own choice, and by the life of the child that they had created together. Through those connections, she knew that Mar had returned and that a tragic future drew nigh.

nhBreen remained still. He had arrived in the precise spot required to have a direct line of fire when the proper moment arrived.

The Republican officer Sari had been an assassin and her
pistol
an assassin's weapon. Every component was absolutely vacant of any whiff of ether. The frame and slugs were impervious to spells. A highly guarded state secret, the propellants of the cartridges had used no magic whatsoever in any stage of their manufacture and the formula included materials so rare that one cartridge had cost the same as a fully armed combat flyer.