The Dreamtrails (103 page)

Defeated, I set the case down again, reminding myself that Jak had said that it would be virtually impossible to guess a stranger’s code word. But Cassy was no stranger to me after so many years of dreaming of her, and she would have known that I had been born in an age beyond the computermachines of her time. She had lived into that time, and she
might have foreseen that I would come to learn something of computermachines. But if she had set a code containing a message to me, would she not have made very sure that it was something I could guess?

I took up the computermachine again and tapped in
KASANDA
. Nothing happened. I tapped in
CASSANDRA
. Again nothing happened, but it was possible that I had scribed it incorrectly. I tried several versions of the name, but none caused anything to happen. I stared at the screen glumly and thought of Dell, wakening Ines by speaking her name aloud. Would the program in this computermachine hear me as Ines had?

I licked my lips and said in a stilted voice, “Kasanda, can you hear me?”

Nothing.

“Kasanda, can you hear me?”

Nothing again. I thought for a moment, and then said, “I am the Seeker.”

The light in the chamber seemed to dim, and I listened eagerly, awaiting the voice of the computermachine, but to my disappointment, there was no response. I glanced back down at the computermachine and gasped, for all of my laboriously typed questions had vanished, and now words were scribing themselves rapidly in lines on the screen.

I read them, heart thundering.

M
Y FRIEND
, I read. I
CALL YOU FRIEND
, S
EEKER, THOUGH WE HAVE NEVER MET, FOR
I
HAVE KNOWN YOU A VERY LONG TIME
. T
O YOU
I
KNOW THAT
I
WILL ONLY EVER BE A STRANGER WHOM YOU HAVE SOMETIMES GLIMPSED IN DREAMS OF A TIME THAT YOU WILL CALL THE
B
EFORETIME
.

T
HERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT
I
WISH
I
COULD TELL YOU, EXPLANATIONS
I
MIGHT MAKE, BUT THERE IS NO TIME
.

H
OW STRANGE IT IS TO SPEAK OF TIME, WHEN
I
HAVE DEFIED
IT MORE THAN ONCE AND IN MORE THAN ONE WAY IN MY LIFE
. Y
ET TIME IS TRULY OF THE ESSENCE, FOR
I
HAVE NO RELIABLE WAY TO REGULATE THE POWER OF THIS CRYSTAL CHAMBER
. I
USED THE KNOWLEDGE OF MY LOST WORLD TO PREPARE IT AS BEST
I
COULD, BUT
I
KNOW THE POWER OF THE CRYSTAL RESONANCES IS TOO STRONG AND THAT VERY SOON IT WILL DESTROY THE WORKINGS OF THE COMPUTER
. T
HEREFORE COMMIT TO MEMORY ALL
I
HAVE WRITTEN HERE, FOR THERE WILL NOT BE TIME FOR YOU TO READ MY WORDS AGAIN
.

I
F YOU ARE READING THIS, THEN THIS PORTABLE COMPUTER IS BEING POWERED BY THE CRYSTALS IN THE AMYTHEST CHAMBER, WHICH YOUR LANTERN LIGHT WILL HAVE ACTIVATED AFTER A SHORT TIME
. I
CANNOT EXPLAIN THE SCIENCE OF CRYSTAL RESONANCES AS AN ENERGY SOURCE, FOR THAT IS KNOWLEDGE LOST TO YOUR WORLD, BUT
I
PRAY THAT THIS COMPUTER, FOR WHICH
I
PAID LONG AND DEAR, WILL LAST LONG ENOUGH TO DO WHAT IT MUST DO NOW
.

I
NSIDE IT IS A SMALL DEVICE, WHICH YOU WILL TAKE AWAY WITH YOU FROM THIS PLACE
. B
UT BEFORE
I
EXPLAIN HOW TO GET IT FROM THE COMPUTER, YOU NEED TO IMPRINT IT WITH YOUR VOICE
.

P
RESS THE
A
KEY
.

I looked at the little squares until I found the A and pressed it.

The humming changed pitch again, and all the words vanished, to be replaced by two new lines of scribing.

S
PEAK YOUR NAME AND SAY WHAT YOU ARE, SIMPLY AND CLEARLY
.

P
RESS
C
AND REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU HAVE SAID
.

I cleared my throat and said, “I am Elspeth Gordie. I am the Seeker.” Then I pressed C.

The line of words on the screen vanished, and new words
appeared, letter by glowing letter and far more swiftly than any hand could scribe them.

P
RESS
B
AND LET
M
ERIMYN SING
.

P
RESS
C.

“Merimyn?” I read, baffled.

Maruman padded forward and sniffed at the computermachine, and I suddenly remembered a vision I had had of him as a kitten, playing on the dreamtrails with a young woman who had seemed vaguely familiar to me. She had called him Merimyn! My mind surged with questions, but I dared not waste time in questions lest the computermachine be destroyed before it could serve its purpose. So I found the B square. Bidding Maruman sing, I pressed it. He gave a long warbling yowl that would have made my hair stand on end, if it was not already doing so, and when he stopped, I pressed C.

The humming changed pitch again, and when I looked back at the screen, large red letters were flashing there: W
AIT
. I
MPRINTING VOICE CODES TO MEMORY SEED
.

The humming dropped in pitch, and the words were replaced by other words.

T
HE MEMORY SEED IS NOW ENCODED
.

P
RESS THE
E
JECT KEY AND THE DEVICE WILL APPEAR AT THE SIDE OF THE COMPUTER
. T
AKE IT AND KEEP IT WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES
.

It took me so long to find the tiny word
Eject
scribed above the square marked with an O that I was beginning to panic, for I was sure I could now smell a faint burning odor, and I feared that the computermachine might suddenly explode or burst into flames. I pressed the O, and a small round shape protruded from the side of the machine. Gingerly, I pulled it out. It looked indistinguishable from thousands of similar
small bits and pieces of plast that the Teknoguild had brought up from the levels they were continually excavating. I had no idea what it was or would do, but clearly the tiny tablet played some vital part in my quest. I slipped it into my inner pocket and buttoned it before turning my attention to the screen, where new words had scribed themselves.

T
HE MEMORY SEED CONTAINS WHAT YOU NEED TO GAIN ACCESS TO ALL LEVELS OF THE
S
ENTINEL
C
OMPLEX
. Y
OU NEED ONLY LOAD THE SEED INTO ANY PORT ONCE YOU ARRIVE
. E
VEN A MAINTENANCE PORT IN THE AUXILIARY BUILDINGS WILL DO BECAUSE ALL ROADS LEAD TO
S
ENTINEL, AS MY FATHER USED TO SAY
. N
O ONE WITHOUT THE MEMORY SEED WILL BE ABLE TO ENTER WITHOUT CAUSING
S
ENTINEL TO SHUT DOWN ALL ACCESS AND DEFEND ITS PERIMETER, AND THE MEMORY SEED IS NOW NO USE WITHOUT YOU AND
M
ERIMYN, FOR YOUR VOICES HAVE BECOME PART OF THE KEY CODE
.

T
HERE IS VERY LITTLE TIME LEFT NOW
. I
WISH
I
COULD HAVE HELPED YOU MORE
. O
NLY REMEMBER THAT …

There was a crackling buzz, the smell of burning, and the computermachine screen went black.

Remember what?
I wondered, horrified to think that something vital had been lost. Then I swiftly ran over what I had read, committing it to deeper memory, for there were many words I had not understood, and I would have to find out what they meant before I could properly understand what I was to do.

I turned to look at Maruman, whose fur still stood out in a ruff about his head, making him look like a small fierce lion. “Who called you Merimyn?” I asked. It was a mistake, of course. Maruman glared at me with his one baleful eye and turned to stalk out of the amethyst chamber. I rose with a sigh, wondering if the reason he hated questions so much had
less to do with the mess of misconnections in his mind than the fact that curiosity was a form of desire, and desire was an emotion.

I looked down at the gray case with its dead black screen, hardly able to believe that it had enabled Kasanda to communicate with me. It was astounding, but at the same time I had a queer feeling of anticlimax. There were so many questions I wished I could have asked, not just about Kasanda’s message but about her life and her knowledge of me and my visions, about the Great White and Hannah and Jacob Obernewtyn. Of course, I knew that Kasanda was long dead and could not answer any questions, yet the queer intimacy of what had effectively been a letter to me made it seem eerily as if she
was
alive, as if all times were existing at once.

I touched my pocket and felt the small hardness of the memory seed as I rose and looked one last time at the amethyst chamber’s glittering splendor, marveling that Kasanda had been able to use it as a power source. I took up the lantern, and as I left the chamber, the blaze of light was extinguished and I almost stumbled in what seemed darkness, until my eyes had readjusted. I made my way along the narrow passage, my eyes gradually adjusting to the dim, unaugmented lantern light. I crossed the empty cavern and returned to the chamber of carved panels, where the overguardian waited, Maruman sitting by her feet.

“There is one more thing Kasanda left you,” she said.

W
E ENTERED A
long sloping walk up the side of an enormous cavern. The faint sea-scented air blowing toward us told me that we were close to the front of the Earthtemple. At length, we entered a small chamber where the wind blew so hard that it immediately snuffed out the lantern flames. But there was no need of them, for nearly palpable beams of silver-white moonlight streamed though a number of irregular openings in the stone. Through them, far below, lay Templeport and all about it as far as the eye could see, the vast, moonlit ocean. I crossed to look out one of the windows and became aware of the drumming of the sea on Templeport and the skirling of the wind against the stony faces carved into the cliff.

The overguardian spoke my name, and I turned. Standing in a shaft of moonlight, her veils whipping and fluttering in the wind, she made such a mysterious, striking vision that it took me a moment to notice that she was pointing to the stone wall behind her. Then I noticed a long vertical crevice in the rough stone too regular to be natural. I went to it and saw something long, narrow, and white standing in it.

“Take it,” said the overguardian.

I reached into the niche, and my hand found a long, hard, linen-wrapped bundle. It was much heavier than I had expected from its thinness.

“Open it,” said the overguardian.

I knelt to lay it on the ground so I could untie the thongs of hemp binding the cloth tight. When I had unwrapped what lay within, I stared, for it was a sword such as a soldierguard captain might wear or a Councillor who fancied himself a warrior, but this was carved from stone inlaid with silver or some pale shining metal in a scribing that seemed to be the same atop the ruined computermachine. It was a beautiful, ambiguous object and unmistakably Kasanda’s work. Indeed, it might be the finest she had ever created, as well as being the last.

“What is it for?” I asked, looking up at the overguardian.

“You are to take it and keep it with you until you find the one to whom it rightfully belongs.”

“Who is?”

“That was not given to me to know,” she answered serenely.

“It that all?” I asked tersely.

“What more do you want?” she asked.

“I don’t mean I want something more. I mean, is that all you can tell me. What is this sword that is not a sword? Why was such a thing made and for whom?”

“I do not know the answers to these questions. I know only that she who placed no value upon possessions valued this and named it the key to all things.”

I sighed, suddenly exhausted by puzzles and intrigues. Would there ever be an end to them? I rewrapped the stone sword, retied the thongs, and stood up.

By the time I had climbed from the cleft that led to the pivoting stone Earthtemple entrance, my arms were aching from the weight of the sword, and I headed straight for my tent to rid myself of the unwieldy thing. There was no sign of Jakoby,
but I did not need her to guide me. It seemed as though hours had passed while I was in the labyrinth of stone, and I felt chilled to the bone, but the night air was balmy and warm, and when I reached the path leading up from the spit, I saw that a good deal of activity still centered on the trade stalls. In the distance beyond them, the frenzy of movement about the fire pits suggested feasting had given way to dance. I could have gone back and joined the others, but suddenly I knew that I would not. What had happened in the Earthtemple had severed the warm connection I had felt to everyone and everything earlier in the evening, for it was a reminder that however much I might feel or long for it, I was the Seeker, which meant I was alone.

In my tent, I lit a lantern and unwrapped the sword to study it again, wondering why Kasanda had made such a useless if lovely object. It was not a statue that could be set up and admired, and it would never cut anything. The overguardian had called it a key, which made it seem as if it must be connected to my quest as the Seeker, but she had also said it was to be returned to the one it belonged to, and who could that be? Besides, if Kasanda had made it and left it for me, it had never belonged to anyone but its maker. Unless she had made it
for
someone. But how was I to discover who? I wrapped up the sword, something else nagging at me. The words in the computermachine said that the memory seed would give me access to all levels of the Sentinel Complex, which confirmed that this was my ultimate destination as Seeker, but if it was to open all doors, then why did I need the other words and clues that had been left for me: the key Jacob Obernewtyn had carried into the Blacklands; the words on Evander’s cairn; whatever had been carved into the statue that marked the Twentyfamilies’ safe-passage agreement; and
whatever awaited me in the Red Queen’s land.