Birthright-The Technomage Archive (39 page)

“
That explains some things,” Ceril said. “The Jaronya—the winged people I mentioned—I think they believe the Charons who built you are their Ancestors. They think the inscriptions are some kind of scripture left behind for them.”

“
That is not an entirely untrue interpretation,” said the Archive. “It would also indicate that eventual settlement of the warzone was possible. That is good news.”

“
I still don’t like it,” Ceril said. “Anyway, how much time has passed since my intrusion was detected?”

“
Three hours and fourteen minutes.”

Well, that’s that
, Ceril thought.
I missed the meeting
.
Here’s hoping that Saryn and Chuckie didn't.
“Do you have a map of this facility?”

Rather than responding, the Archive gestured toward the desk in front of Ceril. The top rippled momentarily, and a device no larger than his personal tablet appeared. A grid of light green lines overlaid a simple schematic on a purple background.

“
Thank you,” Ceril said.

He looked at the tablet. It might take him some practice to figure out its controls. He touched and swirled his finger across the tablet, understanding none of the actual writing on it, but recognizing the symbols—they were from Erlon, but they were arranged like those on the tower and followed no rules Ceril understood. He scrolled until he found a section of the map highlighted yellow.

“
What's this?” he asked, indicating the yellow section.

“
That is where your intrusion was detected,” the hologram said.

Ceril scrolled some more and noticed two green dots. “And those?” he asked, pointing.

“
Those are two life signs that entered through the same opening you did. They register as human. Are they Charons?”

Ceril wanted to say no, they couldn’t be, but his heart dropped. Saryn and Chuckie had apparently not made their meeting, either. “Yes. They're Charons, too. I think…those dots are my friends. Are they okay?”

“
Internal sensors indicate that neither sustained injury from the fall.”

“
Good, thank you,” Ceril said. “What's the quickest way to get to them?”

“
The most efficient means of your meeting would involve routing their path to this chamber rather than you seeking them on foot.”

“
You can do that?” Ceril asked, amazed.

“
The structure of the Archive is comprised of Charonic nanotechnology. The facility can shift on a molecular level in order to allow streamlined functionality. There is often no need for the function; however, since you and the other Charons are the only life-signs in the facility, no loss of efficiency will occur.”

Ceril boggled in silence for a moment. “Absolutely, then. Do it. Route them here. How long will it take them to get here?”

“
The most time efficient path will require roughly thirty-five minutes to complete.”

“
Do it, then.”

“
Yes, Charon.”

Ceril leaned back. He had about half an hour before his friends would arrive, and he had access to a database of ancient knowledge no one even knew existed. He could relax and wait for them to find him, but where was the fun in that? He asked the hologram, “May I have unrestricted access to the database?”

“
You do, Charon. Your authorization is unlimited.”

Ceril would have to find out about that sometime. He didn’t like that he seemed to be at the top of some sort of hierarchy he didn't know existed. And if all this had been buried even half as long as the Archive made him think, there was no way for him to have been given access. It didn't make any sense, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to take advantage of it.

He had a job to do. He had a mission. And he still had friends out there on the surface that he hadn't seen or heard from in days. “Archive,” he said.

“
Yes, Charon.”

“
Do you have any surface sensors at all left?”

“
I am sorry, Charon. This facility is only equipped with functioning internal sensors.”

Ceril thought about the Archive’s phrasing. “
This
facility?” Ceril asked.

“
Yes, Charon,” said the hologram.

“
Are there other facilities like this on Jaronya?” he used the Instance's name purposely.

“
Yes, Charon. Each major city on Jaronya was equipped with a recording station and minor Archive. This facility was the largest.”

“
Do you have any data suggesting that any of the minor Archives survived the war?”

“
I am sorry, Charon,” the hologram said. “There is no indication of their survival. The facilities were not networked and there are no external sensors linking the structures.”

Ceril nodded. He was moving in a direction at least. He now knew that there were other places in the Instance where there might be information on the connection to Erlon, and on how he might get back to Ennd's. He had time to dig in for some surface-level research before Saryn and Chuckie got back. Once they rendezvoused, they would have to work out a plan for meeting with the high priest. Then they could get back to the actual work of their mission: finding a way back to Erlon, finding this Untouchable guy. Seeing Gramps again.

His actual mission had almost slipped Ceril’s mind. He had been a little preoccupied lately.

“
I need a manual input device, Archive,” Ceril said.

“
Yes, Charon.” As the hologram responded, a keypad appeared on the desk in front of him. As it formed, a projection of a screen requesting input appeared, too, floating in the air a few inches above the desk. “Is there anything else?”

“
Not at the moment. I am going to do a little browsing through the database, if that's all right. I prefer to do it manually instead of verbally.”

“
Yes, Charon.”

“
Alert me when my friends are near, please.”

“
Yes, Charon,” the hologram repeated.

“
Is the output interactive?”

“
Yes, Charon.”

“
I don’t want you to monitor me,” Ceril said. “Anything I do through this device is private and not to be tracked.” If he had unlimited access to the database, he might have control of it, too.

“
Yes, Charon.”

Ceril leaned back and began typing. He would occasionally swipe at the holographic display in front of him. He was finally back in his element. He knew research, even if he did not know one hundred percent of the symbols that made up the data in the Archive. Finally, something on this mission felt like it was going his way, like he could control it. Ceril continued to work, letting himself fall into the Archive so that he could ignore the artificial man standing silent and unmoving in front of the desk.

Chapter Twenty-eight

“
You’re lying,” Damien said.

“
Jaronya was what you called your little playground, am I right?”

Damien was silent, but the nanites pooling under his hands began to edge forward along the desk toward Squalt. If the headmaster noticed, he made no indication.

“
From what I recall, the
Sigil
had some engine trouble, and it just so happened that the hyperdrive gave out in the luckiest spot imaginable.”

“
That’s impossible,” Damien said. “You’re lying.”

“
Maybe I am,” Squalt said. “But if I’m not, can you think of any other place that would be as good at tracking down the Untouchable as Jaronya? You were very clever in hiding it all those years ago. The chain of Instances was almost impossible to track down. All it would take to get the
Sigil
nearby was a few minor course corrections and some well-timed engine failure. Of course, without the hyperspace envelope, the ship’s connection to Erlon was severed, but what can you do? After all, the terrorists must be dealt with. Oh, wait. I’m lying, aren’t I?” The headmaster grimaced comically, biting his lower lip and raising his eyebrows.

“
Gilbert, you sorry, stupid little man.”

The pools of blackness under Damien’s hands erupted, shooting forward and coating Squalt’s entire head and face. The headmaster tried to suck in air, but couldn’t. After a few seconds, the headmaster’s face appeared and he gasped for breath. Immediately, Damien raised one finger on his right hand, and the nanites yanked the man’s head into the desk face first. A wet
crack
sounded and black blood fell from Gilbert Squalt’s nose.

The balding man grabbed his nose and screamed. “My nose! You broke my nose!” His breaths were shallow and rapid. His voice wavered. Damien could tell that the headmaster was seconds away from losing consciousness, so, like an expert torturer, Damien recalled him from the brink. The nanites around his head burrowed inward, each one jolting him with a slight electric shock. Squalt’s shoulders sagged, but he would not lose consciousness.

“
You son of a bitch,” Squalt snarled.

“
I honestly don't remember my mother, Gilbert. You might be right about that. And going back to what you said earlier: you were also right that I was scared that night in my home. However, I was not a coward.”

Squalt fell back into his chair and glared at Damien. “Perhaps you can explain to me how being afraid does not constitute cowardice?”

“
I've lived a long time, Gilbert. And I have no faith to speak of. I don't know the old gods; I have no relationship with any of them. My gods have always been science and the Archive.”

“
You mean that your god has always been
you
.”

Damien shrugged. “Maybe. Now, though, after all these years, I'm afraid to let go. Afraid of what comes after this. So I will not go easily, and if that means hiding a few hours while I get the nanites in my blood to completely reactivate, then so be it. But now, they're reactivated, and I am proficient with them again. And you need to tell me what you know about this situation with Ceril.”

“
I think we’re done here, Damien.”

Something on Squalt’s desk chirped, and the headmaster said, “I’m going to have to take this call, if you don’t mind.”

“
Go ahead.”

Squalt waved his hand over his desk and a display was projected from nowhere Damien could see. Technology was certainly moving along, he thought. He saw the front-desk receptionist who had stamped his hand earlier. She was looking directly at Squalt when she said, “Sir, there's been an incident.”

“
I'm aware of the security drones, Beth.”

“
Yes, sir. I know. There's been a…discovery. Two, actually,” she said.

“
What do you mean?”

“
Sir, I don't mean to pry, but are you okay? Your nose—”

“
It's fine, Beth. What discoveries are you talking about?”

“
Bodies, sir. Two of them. They're dead, and they were students.”

Squalt's eyes jerked toward Damien, who still stood in front of the desk. “Who were they?” Squalt asked.

“
The first one we found was Arla Smith. She was a new Phase II student this year. Cleanup details found her body…mutilated…near where the security drones were found.”

Squalt nodded, but kept his eyes on Damien for a shimmer of reaction. There was none. “And the other?”

“
Swarley Dann. His body was found on the seventh floor botanical terrace inside of the arboretums.”

Squalt blinked. “Was his body mutilated like Arla's?”

“
No, sir. First responders couldn't find any indication of a struggle. No bruising was apparent, and no marks of any kind. It looks like he just sat under the tree and died.”

“
Thank you for letting me know, Beth. Keep me apprised of any details that come through. I'll prepare statements for the families and contact them myself once we have a clearer picture of what's going on.”

“
Yes, sir,” the receptionist said, and the screen disappeared.

“
You killed two of my students before you murdered Nary Thralls.” It was a statement. Not a question.

“
One, actually,” Damien said. “Swarley was…a mistake.”

“
So you had to kill a
kid
?” Squalt yelled.

“
He was in the way, and he wasn’t a kid. A student, but not a kid,” Damien said. “The girl, however, was killed by your security golems. Designed to protect the school, huh? They kill
kids
?” Damien took a deep breath before the rage boiled too hot. “That seems like a pretty big problem in your security. You'd think someone would have noticed this before now.”

“
Like I believe
that
.”

“
Believe what you want. But it's the truth. She met me in the hall, was lost and looking for her dormitory. When I couldn't help her, your golems mowed her down like a weed in a garden. I would have tried to help her, but she was dead by the time I knew what was going on.”

“
I'm sure you would have,” Squalt said.

“
Now that
that
piece of unpleasantness has been taken care of…” Damien’s voice trailed off, but he stood with a smile that mocked Squalt.

Gilbert Squalt had taken quite enough. The headmaster stood up from behind his desk and stared into Damien’s eyes. “I hate that it’s come to this, Damien.”

“
I've regretted every second.”

Squalt lunged across the desk, a Flameblade materializing in his hand. The blade glowed a faint orange-brown as Squalt stabbed it forward, attempting to impale his hopefully off-guard opponent.

He had no such luck. Damien easily dodged to the side, which threw Squalt off balance, but he regained his footing quickly.