Sealed Gate Chapters 1-6

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Harvey
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Sealed Gate Chapters 1-6

Post by Harvey »

Chapters 1 through 6 of my unfinished story Sealed Gate. Chapter 6 was never revealed publicly because it's kinda awful, but it's somewhat unlikely that I'll go back to finish this after six years.

The editing is a little rough. I see parts I would change now for flow reasons, and awkward wording, and other parts I would retcon since we've slightly changed / added to the canon. But eh. I think it's pretty good as is.

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Harvey
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Re: Sealed Gate Chapters 1-6

Post by Harvey »

Society


Chapter 1
The Pattern


676 T3 – 676rd year of the T3 alliance
382 b.EOD – 382 years before the Eve of Destruction


A loud knock on the door quickly shook Rol’Vul Sel’Tem out of what he considered a very good sleep. He rolled over in his small bed to see a young woman he did not recognize standing behind the half-open door.

“What is it?!” he hissed, his voice broken.

“It is just past dawn. This is your hotel’s wake up call that you asked for,” the woman responded without missing a beat. She had received exactly the same reaction for three weeks now.

“Yes, yes, of course. Thank you,” said Rol’Vul as he pawed at his eyes.

“Have a good day,” the woman said, “sir,” she added as an afterthought as she closed the door.

Rol’Vul cracked his knuckles and stretched, making his usual big deal about getting out of bed. As far as he was concerned, breakfast was a light snack to have around midday and no real work should ever be started for an hour after that. But the life of a researcher, especially the head engineer on a cutting-edge project, demanded otherwise. With luck, he hoped, this would be the last time he would need to actually go out in the field. At the respectable age of 145, this micron was quite willing to retire from active duty, write scientific books for about fifteen years, and then spend his last time with his family that he had made quite wealthy over his years of work.

A small town like Caneigh was probably the last place people would look to find the leading expert on stasis field research. In fact, Caneigh was probably the last place people would look to find a town at all. Nestled at the eastern base of one of the mountains in the Cazeran range, Caneigh had nothing nearby that made it a good place to live. The mountains were empty of ore, the land too rough nearby for good farming, the river too narrow and wild for sailing. The only reason Caneigh existed was because it was at probably the most important crossroads in the Micron Empire. A long ways to the south and east laid the fertile Plains of Creation, the breadbasket of the empire. Far to the north was the bustling port city of Parsaria that connected Microae with the rest of the civilized world. And to the west, the paths over the mountains eventually lead to the military center of Ansaras and later Sanarian, the capital of the Empire. The road was long in all directions, and travelers looked towards Caneigh from a distance as a place for a warm meal and a safe bed.

Rol’Vul looked at Caneigh in a somewhat different manner. He wished very much to be out of this provincial village and back to his research labs in the huge city of Ptia, or perhaps his home in Parsaria. The hope that today might be the last day of field research was the one thought that motivated him to quickly finish getting dressed and hurry outside.


Tar’Bel Sel’Tem was already waiting for him in the early morning light with their field carriage. Tar’Bel, at the age of 46, was barely out of the academies, but Rol’Vul had a great deal of respect for him. In addition to being among the top 25 of his class, Tar’Bel was bright-eyed and inventive, able to quickly come up with an unorthodox solution to a common problem. This sort of attitude was frowned upon by the more scholarly types, but Rol’Vul knew that being a field researcher never, ever followed the “textbook” cases of how study should be followed. The world was just too messy and unpredictable to deal with all that.

Despite both having the micron last name Sel’Tem, Rol’Vul and Tar’Bel were not related family even distantly. Their identical last names were not from bonds of blood, but from ideology within the Society.

“Soloms, Rol’Vul,” he said brightly as Rol’Vul climbed into the carriage. If there was one thing Rol’Vul did NOT approve of, it was the fact Tar’Bel was a morning person.

“Soloms, Tar’Bel. Any word on the project?” Rol’Vul asked.

“I have not been down to the site yet, but the locals are saying that we had a minor quake last night. If the site felt it too we might be done here.” Tar’Bel said.

“Let it be so,” Rol’Vul said.

They lapsed into silence for some time as the carriage took them south into the Plains of Creation. Several fishers from Caneigh were already out, and Rol’Vul caught sight of a few people tending to orchards in the distance. It was a fine morning in late summer, and even Rol’Vul had to admit it was peaceful and beautiful countryside, as long as he did not have to actually live here.

“Do you think it will have worked?” Tar’Bel asked abruptly.

“You should not ask questions like that,” Rol’Vul answered with pain on his face. “It should have worked, it WOULD have worked, last time if the camp had not been trampled by a group of wild vlatirats.”

“We have had the rest of the team camped there since then. I doubt anyone would have disturbed the site.” Tar’Bel said, though he could not let it go. Finally he began again, “But, about the earthquake. Do you think the stasis field protected against its effects?”

“We specifically designed the field not to be able to compensate against earthquakes, which is why we are out here in the first place. If the field could prevent the effects of the earthquake then that means it is a true stasis field and nothing can affect what is inside it. The Society wants a stasis field generator that can protect against random forces, and that is what we are trying to create. If it works or not, well, we will just have to wait and see when we get there.” Rol’Vul explained for what felt like the thousandth time.

Tar’Bel had no answer for that. They reached the path east to the Plains of Creation and Tar’Bel steered them off the main road to Melsarsis and towards their research site.


The society of which Rol’Vul spoke of would be none other then the famous Society of World Improvement, one of the largest micron clans in the Empire and in fact funded largely by Imperial taxes. Its sphere of influence was so extensive that even humans and a small number of elves had gained membership. Backed by both Sanarian Palace and the Triad government, the Society of World Improvement was a collection of respectable scientists, researchers, and mathematicians. It had a fairly rigorous entry examination program and all research had to be approved by the higher-ups before any work could begin. As a result, a good deal of “radical” research projects were denied and their researchers, frustrated by the Society’s lack of “foresight”, joined other clans such as the less-respectable Worldbeam, a clan for philosophers and poets. This did not bother the Society leaders and helped weed out a lot of troublesome members. There was a great deal of talk about loosening up clan entry restrictions but many seriously doubted it would happen.

Rol’Vul did not bother too much about radical researchers and their problems. He was only really cared about two things: what the Society expected of his research, and if the money was coming to carry it out. The Society expectations were always high but obtainable, and the money was always good, both for his project and for his pocket.
The total ride was about two hours long, but eventually Rol’Vul could see the tarps of his research site flapping uncontrollably in the breeze. Several of his team where trying to fight them down with coils of rope and stakes, though the tarps seemed to be winning the war.

“Rol’Vul!” one of the team yelled as he rode into the site. “The earthquake hit hard last night. It badly damaged our camp, though the earthquake compensators protected the machinery.”

“And the orb?” Tar’Bel asked urgently.

“The stand is undamaged. We were worried that it might topple over and out of the field, but it looks like it held up all right. Granted, we cannot SEE it, but…,” the researcher said awkwardly.

“Good,” Rol’Vul said quickly. “We will get the testing equipment unloaded and help you with these tarps, and then we can see how the orb held up.”


Micron magic was developing much faster then micron technology, though occasionally the two met in the middle and created bizarre and interesting results. A classic example of this is the so-called Bom’Ber Firetosser – a catapult developed not to throw rocks or even flaming debris, but actual pure fire itself. By blending magic into machinery, hybrids were created that were superior to both disciplines.

The Society of World Improvement loved this sort of thing and was pushing for magical/technological research in all directions. A lot of this focused on Hypon – a quasiorganic energy created by micron body processes. By simply living microns created this Hypon, and it was quickly discovered that Hypon increases the durability of anything that it is infused with. Hypon sword, Hypon drills, even entire Hypon buildings began to be constructed. As the need for Hypon grew micron engineers began to envision a great network to collect, store, and transfer Hypon for industrial purposes: a Hypernet.

The idea had been proposed over two hundred years ago and was not too much closer to reality then it had been back then. Many people began to believe it was, as the especially witty put it, a pipe dream. Rol’Vul was not concerned with the Hypernet, but other fields of magical/technological research, such as stasis fields.

A stasis field was an enclosed area in which nothing could be disturbed. And by nothing, they really meant nothing. No movement from air, from the ground, rotation of the earth, or anything at all, not even light. Any matter or energy trying to enter the field would meet unbreakable resistance, and anything inside would be put into a state of perpetual unchangingness.

The museums wanted it to preserve ancient relics and documents. Scientists wanted it to protect themselves from hazardous experiments. Banks wanted it to secure their vaults. And the military, oh the military would kill to get their hands on it.

The Society recognized the potential quickly threw money at the project, which of course attracted a large number of Sel’Tem clan members. The early work had involved developing the magic to generate the field and regulate it so that things inside would be preserved. The machinery to perpetuate the spell was then designed, and now it came to Rol’Vul and his team to make sure that it worked in every possible situation; situations like the unforeseeable shaking of an earthquake.


The tarps were beaten back and the camp was reorganized, and so it came down to what everyone hoped would be the historic moment. Rol’Vul stood in front of the recording device near the orb while Tar’Bel operated the testing equipment.

“Record forty-seven of the stasis field earthquake project,” Rol’Vul began, getting the preliminaries out of the way. “Recorded during the 676th year of the T3 Alliance. Rol’Vul Sel’Tem recording. Tar’Bel Sel’Tem operating testing machinery. Site is our field test site on the Plains of Creation, approximately 28 miles southeast of the town of Caneigh. As follows is the full recording of this test, following the code set by the Society for World Improvement.”

“Last night, a minor seismic disturbance occurred in this area while the stasis field was in effect,” he continued. “The pedestal upon which our test orb stands would have been disturbed by this earthquake. We will now lower the stasis field and inspect the orb.” He waited for a moment, just to make the occasion more epic. “Lower the field.”

The hum of machinery faded away and suddenly the field of darkness faded away and orb and its pedestal became visible. Tar’Bel moved his equipment closer to the orb. The orb itself was simply a glass sphere filled with deep blue staining liquid. The idea was that if the liquid were to be sloshed, it would stain the sides of the glass sphere.

“Does the orb show any sign of manipulation by the seismic disturbance?” Rol’Vul asked.

Tar’Bel fiddled with his machinery and the screen showed an extremely magnified view of the side of the glass orb. Finally, the answer came.

“No, none. It matches the recording of the orb before we activated the field.” Said Tar’Bel.

Around the camp the research members let out quiet but audible sighs of relief and approval. Their test had succeeded. Rol’Vul fought off his grin and tried to remain as professional as possible.

“Continuing on, for the record’s sake, does the orb show any signs of heating from the sun?” Rol’Vul asked.

“Temperature is 0.32 degrees warmer then it was when the field was activated, which is to be expected from normal heating since the field has now been off for a minute.” Tar’Bel replied. Again, more good news.

“Any sign of manipulation by the wind?”

“None.”

“Any sign of organisms on the orb?”

“No.”

“Switch to the molecular mapping level,” Rol’Vul said. This was going well. “Any signs of manipulation from the rotation of Micras?”

“None.”

“Any signs from the orbit of the moon of Atropos?”

“No.”

“Any signs from the rotation of Micras around the sun of Atos?”

“Nothing.”

“Are the molecular maps from the orb the same as they were recorded before the stasis field was activated?” Rol’Vul asked, hoping that was the last question. It call came down to that.

More fiddling with the machine. Tar’Bel frowned.

“The molecular maps… no, they.” Tar’Bel’s face twisted. “They do not match.”

“What?!” exclaimed Rol’Vul in genuine surprise. “How?”

“The molecular arrangement is… slightly altered. I have never seen anything like this before,” came the unfortunate reply.

“Should we cut the feed?” asked a technician off camera.

Yes! screamed Rol’Vul’s mind, but he shook his head.

“Analyze the difference in the molecular structure and try to isolate where it came from.” Rol’Vul said.

Tar’Bel shook his head and played with the computer some more. Finally, he said, “I do not know. There is nothing. The stasis field is perfect. But there is this… pattern of molecular distortion...”

Rol’Vul studied the screen. The computer has taken the difference in the molecular structures and displayed it graphically. The pattern, if one could call it that, was not quite a spiral and not quite straight. It was an effect that was not created by any sort of motion Rol’Vul had ever seen before.
Weary, though it was only midmorning, he returned to the center of the camera.

“Stasis field earthquake project has been declared a success,” Rol’Vol said, though he was wondering if meant it. “The effect of the unknown earthquake force was negated by the stasis field. The meaning of this… pattern can be investigated by another project. End of record. Cut the film.”
Around him, the research team looked expectant, as if he were to reveal the source of this strange unknown factor in their experiment. But he had no answers.

“Pack up the camp,” he said. “We are going back to Ptia.”

The team had figured this would be the end of their time in the field, but had hoped it would end under different circumstances. They slowly began to disassemble the research site, wondering exactly what had been discovered that day.

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Harvey
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Re: Sealed Gate Chapters 1-6

Post by Harvey »

Chapter 2
Where Mortals Dream


715 T3
343 bEoD

39 years later

There were a lot of bad things to be said of the elves by the mortal races. Most humans and microns believed that the elves had nothing but contempt for them, watching mortals use the few years they were given in a vain attempt to achieve some sort of legacy before their time ran out. Meanwhile the elves were allowed to sit back and do nothing if they wanted to, secure in their belief that when the kingdoms of man and micron came crumbling down, their first settlements would still be there, as timeless as Micras itself. And so the theory went that elves cared nothing for mortal races, finding their frenzy of activity too bothersome to trifle with.

To be fair, that mentality held more truth then most of the elves would publicly admit. But not all elves thought mortals to be the lesser races. Sirithil nos Feanor, an elvish ambassador from far away lands, decided she actually liked mortals quite a bit. Though their short lives left them somewhat shortsighted, their quest for knowledge often lead in startling and fun directions.

This was the sort of thing that Sirithil was pondering when she wandered the streets of Ptia. Though originally founded as a trading port to solidify the alliance between humans and elves, it showed every sign of a mortal city. Ptia, as it was, was not the largest city on Micras but was easily the most difficult to navigate. Instead of being governed or at least slightly regulated by city planners, the original settlers of Ptia just built wherever they wanted to and made the roads wind in-between. As a result the entire city was clogged with dead-ends, meaningless paths, and a few very important and very narrow highways packed with city denizens.

It was through these outskirts that Sirithil wandered on this fine Ptia afternoon. She was searching for a certain seafood restaurant on the coast, although that was not a particularly good descriptor. Ptia had lots of fish restaurants as it was on an isolated island roughly halfway between the Micron Empire and the lands of the elves. Part of the reason it was so crowded was because there was literally nowhere else to build. The northern part of the island was covered with housing though the city was slowly creeping north and some believed it was only a matter of a few decades before the entire place became one big business district.

Sirithil pondered the human and micron beliefs about her people and the continuing trend of the city to expand into the housing as she wandered through the packed streets. She did not ponder the logically more pressing questions, such as “Why was I called to Ptia?”, “Why did the High Elves in Elivia chose an exile like me over one of their own people?”, “What is so important that it required me to come personally?”, and perhaps the most troubling, “Why do they want to talk about it at a fish restaurant?” No, she ignored those questions entirely. One time she had actually given decent thought towards why she ignored thinking about questions that had certain value in the present, but came to no solid conclusions and just dismissed it as an “elf thing.”

She pushed herself through the crowded streets. A group of high and wood elven businessmen laughed loudly in front of her. On her side several micron schoolgirls gossiped about the day’s classes. From behind she could hear what sounded like both micron and elven voices discussing tonight’s Gravball game, a popular micron sport. Down the street going the opposite direction came a scattered number of human fishers and dock workers heading home from their day’s work, then a small group of well-dressed elven nobles. Sirithil smiled to herself. Ptia’s streets were just too narrow to ride carriages. The wealthy and the poor alike had to walk.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Can I have a moment of your time?” a voice called out from behind Sirithil. She turned to meet it and saw a young human woman with a notepad in hand. “Oh!” the woman exclaimed, unable to catch herself.

Being strange loses some of its meaning in a city like Ptia. A melting pot of different races and cultures, the styles on the street were as varied as could be imagined. That said, Sirithil definitely looked strange. Almost six feet all, she had the striking blonde hair and perfect elven features. She wore her traditional Menelmacari ceremonial outfit, which made her feel comfortable if at least slightly hot in the fall afternoon sun. But the part about her that would make people go “Oh!” was definitely her eyes. The eyes of the magically-saturated high elves were piercing and well-defined. Not large like those of the microns, nor as varying in color as the eyes of humans, but simply eyes that meant business.

Sirithil knew all about the effect her eyes could have on people. In truth she was not that hard and could be very reasonable and emotional, but on occasion she did not want people to know it. Being stopped on the street by a random person was one of those occasions.

“Yes?” Sirithil asked politely but with firmness.

“I-I was j-just wondering, I mean, ah,” the woman stammered. Finally she composed herself and continued, “Are you aware of the plans to demolish the businesses in this sector to make room for a new shipping firm between Ptia and Parsaria?”

“I cannot say that I am,” Sirithil replied truthfully.

“Well,” the woman said, “one of the businesses in this sector was founded by Rolan, a friend of the legendary hero Argent from the old stories. Are you familiar with the legend?”

“I know of the story,” Sirithil replied. “The human warlord Argent and the elven priestess Galilthe defeated the necromancer Darkflash on this island and cleansed the land, and that event lead to the signing of the alliance between humans and elves, and also the founding of this city of Ptia.”

The human woman looked taken aback. “Well, yes, of course. And don’t you think it would be wrong to knock down the business of one of the friends of the hero? It has stood here so long and should be preserved.”

“Dearie, I am a high elf,” Sirithil replied with restrained patience. “I was alive when that happened. Galilthe was a tramp. She abandoned her duties at the temple and ran away from her home with some human and got involved in things she should never have. I never met Argent, but from what I heard, besides being a slayer of necromancers, he was a terrible drunk, had no reliable friends, and was planning on killing himself before, in a drug-induced haze, he started claiming to have received a mission from the god Mandolleran to kill the necromancer on this island.”

The human’s eyes bulged, but she said nothing.

“Honey, look,” Sirithil went on, trying to console the girl. “Argent was a hero, sure. From the actions he did he made the world quite a bit better, or at least more interesting. I doubt he would want the future to be burdened because of an old crumbling factory that his friend built using his reward money. Besides, I was here before Ptia, as were many of my kin. Trust me kid. We’re not too worried about the loss of one building. We still remember the history, even if others forget. So conduct your survey and save it if you want. Or do not. It does not really matter to me. Have a good day.”

“I… yeah… thank you,” the woman said, though she was not too sure what she was thankful for.

Sirithil turned away with a nod and continued her search. Only later did she realize that it was probably actions like that that gave elves such a bad reputation in the minds of men.


After almost an hour of walking and circling a decent section of Ptia’s southeastern coastline, Sirithil found herself at the appropriate seafood restaurant. It was a run down place and, unsurprisingly, smelled horribly strong of raw fish. She entered with minimal hesitation and looked around. There were about a dozen assorted people inside, but she knew immediately whom she would be meeting with. She ignored the micron girl that gave her a greeting and began to head over to their table.

“I am telling you Infiel, there is something dramatically wrong with the Rol/Tar equations! Look, look at this!” one of them said to the other.

“No faith! None at all! Ach, I am in pain, really!” the other replied with a smirk on his face.

Sirithil surveyed the two. Both of them were males in their middle years, and both of them, as coincidence would have it, had light blue hair, but that was the only common feature. The man who had spoken first was a clearly professional micron scholar. His hair was neatly combed to one side, though it draped over his left eye slightly, and he had on a business suit. He was hunched on his elbows on the table over several papers and was looking between them and the man across from him.

His partner was sitting far back in his chair and munching lazily on his breaded fish sticks. His hair was wild, probably from the wind, and he wore the clothes of a human commoner, and had terrible posture. They seemed to be in a heated debate over something, though only the micron was taking it very seriously.

“I have all the faith I need in your machine, Infiel. The machine is not the problem. The theory on which the machine is based on is the problem! Look, this equati- oh! nos Feanor!” the micron said with a shock, noticing Sirithil coming their way.

“Good day, gentlemen,” said Sirithil with a smile as she sat down. “Please, do not let me interrupt.” The micron looked vaguely familiar, but she could not place his name or occupation. The human looked like all the rest to her.

“Ah, there is nothing to interrupt, my fair elf,” the human said, not bothering to prop himself up at Sirithil’s arrival. “We have been over this every day at lunch for a week now.”

“Sirithil, greetings!” the micron said, “I can only assume you do not remember me. I am Pia’Sur Sel’Tem a theoretical sorcerer. I saw one of your guest lectures at the Ptia University of Arcane Studies about fifty years ago. My friend here is Infiel Galebrush, of the Human Engineering Corps of Ptia. We’re both Society Engineers. Infiel, this is Sirithil nos Feanor, a high-elven magi from the lands of Menelmacar.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Infiel said with a gesture that was almost, but not quite, a wave.

“The pleasure is mine,” Sirithil responded politely. “Shall we be off or are we staying here to talk?”

“I’m not done eating yet, so if you do not mind, I would like to stay.” Infiel said.

“Please pardon him,” said Pia’Sur, looking embarrassed. “He has not had any manners for years now. But yes, I had planned on talking here for the time being.”

Sirithil only nodded. These people promised to be interesting. A moment passed. Sirithil said nothing and looked back and forth at the two men expectantly. Infiel paid her no heed and continued to eat. Pia’Sur gave a little cough.”

“Well,” Pia’Sur said awkwardly, “perhaps you could tell us what contributions you will be making to the project?”

“I was hoping that you could tell me what the project is.” Sirithil said.

Infiel gave a little laugh before realizing she was serious. Both mortals exchanged a glance and frowned.

“Wait, whoa, seriously? You actually do not know?” Infiel asked.

“No,” said Sirithil.

“Are you sure you in the right place?” asked Pia’Sur. “We were only told that an elf would be coming and we should help them get up-to-date.”

“Well, an elf came,” Sirithil said with a small smile. “So get me up to date. What are you guys working on?”

Pia’Sur and Infield both looked around the room subtly. The mortals were paranoid. Though Sirithil did not smile, she wanted to. Anything that could make people paranoid was going to be fun work indeed.

“All right,” Pia’Sur said, his voice a little lower. “As I am sure you are aware, the Rol/Tar equations have given rise to a new fiel-“

“I’m sorry,” interrupted Sirithil., “but… Rol/Tar equations?”

Infiel threw up his hands. “Stars above! They sent us an elf that has no idea what the Rol/Tar equations are! What good is she going to be?” he exclaimed a bit too loudly.

“Sirithil nos Feanor happens to a highly respected ambassador of the elven nation of Menelmacar and is arguably the most powerful sorceress on this planet. I am sure there is a reason she is being involved in this project. Now keep your voice down, fool!” Pia’Sur hissed before turning back to Sirithil. Sirithil nodded approvingly to him. She was beginning to like this one already.

Pia’Sur began to explain, “About forty years ago, a micron named Rol’Vul, a member of the Society for World Improvement, was doing research with stasis fields and finally perfected a prototype. However, during a test out on the Plains of Creation about 35 miles from Caneigh, his team was analyzing the test results of an object that had been in a stasis field for just over a day and they found something interesting. Though the stasis field blocked out every external force, something was still manipulating the object within very subtly.”

“What?” Sirithil asked, curious. This sort of technological mystery always intrigued her.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Infiel continued. “The stasis field worked; there is no doubt about that. The Society came up with a number of pretty bad ideas trying to explain the pattern. Things like the handprint of the gods and the fabric of the universe were getting through. Stuff like that. They wanted an answer but didn’t have one, so they made up that dribble. Fact is, no one had any clue.”

“As it turns out, another micron on Rol’Vul’s research team named Tar’Bel came up with a theory that further experiments seem to indicate is truth. He realized that something had changed inside the stasis field.” Pia’Sur went on.

“Well, what was it?” Sirithil asked again.

“It is like this,” Infiel said, finally sitting up straight to lean over the table at her. “You turn the field on yesterday. You wait until today. You turn the field off today. One thing has changed.”

“Nothing should have changed if the field works properly.” Sirithil said with a frown. Infiel laughed.

“Ah, you are not thinking weirdly enough. I gotta hand it to this Tar’Bel guy: this is clever. The day changed! Time got through the stasis field!” Infiel said triumphantly, as if he were making this logic jump at the table just now.

Sirithil frowned again. She wondered if she was going to need to make a habit of it around these two.

“Come on now,” she said slowly. “So what if the day changed? Time is just an abstract concept developed by carbon-based life forms to monitor their own decay. It’s not a cosmic force. It’s just an idea. Like… the color blue is an idea. Or freedom is an idea.”

“The color blue exists. Just ask my friend here,” Infiel said, pointing at Pia’Sur’s hair. “Freedom exists, because when you don’t have it you sure know you don’t have it. Just because you cannot hold them in your hand doesn’t mean that ideas don’t exist. Time exists.”

“The Society was not willing to buy it either, Sirithil,” Pia’Sur went on, ignoring Infiel. “But Tar’Bel got grant money and a few stasis field generators and did a number of experiments with objects in fields for varying periods of time. The patterns he got differed, but he managed to construct an set of equations: equations of time! The Rol/Tar equations. It is terribly complicated and consists of over two dozen variables, almost all of which are hard to measure, but it was a place to start.”

“He was nice enough to add Rol’Vul’s name in there, even though he had nothing really to with the time research. Good guy, Tar’Ber. We had lunch about a month ago. Bad chicken though. Too spicy,” Infiel said, though neither of the other two seemed to hear him.

“If time is a force of energy, why was it not discovered before now?” Sirithil asked Pia’Sur.

“Stasis fields,” Pia’Sur responded simply. “The effect time has on things is very small, and it is usually droned out by wind, the rotation of Micras, the moon’s pull – forces like that. But the stasis field removed everything so the effect could be seen.”

“Okay, well, so what about it? What is this project?” Sirithil asked, though she was worried about the answer.

“Time is not really an energy and not really a matter,” said Pia’Sur. “It does not fit into any of our other equations. But it can, under certain conditions, be detected and…” he paused, as if not sure he should say it. “It can be contained.”

“Contained? You mean you can have some of yesterday in a bottle?” Sirithil asked jokingly.

“A bottle? No, that would not work. It could just flow out, just like it flows around everything normally,” Infiel said, shaking his head. “But a hypon-reinforced stasis field insulated generator? Perhaps, perhaps.”

“That is the experiment, Sirithil,” Pia’Sur said. “We are trying to contain a little bit of the past for study.”

“Two minutes and sixteen seconds, well, roughly.” Infiel added unhelpfully.

Sirithil’s mind whirled as if it was trying to get this new information to either click with something or just fall out one of her large elven ears. She looked at Pia’Sur, then at Infiel. Both of them looked terribly serious. Either this was the best practical joke she had ever heard, these two were very badly misinformed, or something truly interesting was going on here in Ptia.

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Harvey
Ghost of Christmas Past
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Joined: Thu Nov 25, 2010 3:27 pm

Re: Sealed Gate Chapters 1-6

Post by Harvey »

Chapter 3
The Towers of Ptia



The next morning after her trance period, Sirithil joined Pia’Sur and Infiel for breakfast at their hotel tower’s complimentary buffet. Though at the same table, the two were not talking. Infiel was eating some runny eggs while trying to read a newssheet about last night’s Gravball game, which was apparently exciting. Pia’Sur was ignoring his small pile of toast and focusing more on a paper covered with arcane scribbles.

“Mornin’,” Infiel said without looking at her.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Sirithil answered as she sat down with her own meal. She looked around. The room was full of occupants, mostly human and micron. “There are not too many elves here, I see…”

“That is the Society for you,” said Infiel. “They practically own this hotel; the Society rents it out so much for us. And elves generally do not associate with the Society. Too much mucking around with nature or something.” He snorted.

“Not all elves are like that,” said Sirithil somewhat defensively.

“Not all, no, but your Menelmacar is a long way away from here,” Infiel answered, still not turning from his newssheet. “Your cousins in Elivia are not so open-minded, and since the elves control a third of the Triad and the Triad partially funds the Society, that causes problems for us.”

“Tell me more,” Sirithil said, changing the subject away from abuse on elves, “about the project. How is all you said yesterday possible? In only forty years you have gone from theory to application on something this serious?”

“What?!” Infiel asked, suddenly alarmed. “Serious talk over breakfast? Not happenin’. You want to know our methods? The first method is that we do work outside the hotel. In here, we don’t think about it. We eat eggs.” And he did just that.

Sirithil turned to Pia’Sur for some sort of help, but he didn’t even look up. Annoyed, she focused on her meal and said nothing more.


A short time later everyone in the building filed out and began to head their separate ways through the main streets of Ptia. The three researchers walked at their brisk place through the center of the city. Sirithil marveled at how much different it was from the outskirts.

The interior of the city used to be the worst part no less than a hundred years ago. Since so many people wanted to go the shortest distance, everyone was pushing through the terribly laid-out interior. For decades people complained about this, but no one group had the money to force people to relocate. That is, until the Triad established Ptia as the center of the alliance and effectively the center of the world. Eventually the Triad government managed to buy a good deal of the land at the center of the city and set up the very beautiful Towers of Ptia in addition to a workable road network between them. The whole area was called the Tower Gardens and contained the only clean streets, open spaces, and well-trimmed grass in the entire city. Instead of trees, however, the towers themselves sprouted up from the ground. There were towers for the different micron clans, for human organizations, and for the elven nobles. Towers for visiting ambassadors and royals, towers for research, even a tower for entertainment. And, in the center, one massive tower for the Triad government. All of the towers were beautiful, colored the same almost-white tone and having observation rings every several levels and one large ring at the top that extended far over the side of the actual tower itself, creating an umbrella effect for those down below. The smallest were at least two hundred feet tall, and the largest, the T3 government tower, was almost certainly close to one thousand feet.

As Sirithil gazed up at them she thought herself the tinniest of insects looking up at the undersides of a patch of mushrooms. If there was only one section of the city that had a timeless and almost elven quality to it, this would be it. Truly this city, and indeed this entire civilization, had come far in the time she had spent in Menelmacar.


“You know,” Sirithil said, breaking the silence as they walked to the lab, “you guys cannot avoid telling me more about the project forever. You can either do it here, or do it at the lab, but eventually you will have to explain it.”

“At the lab sounds pretty good to me,” said Infiel as he kicked a random rock from the path.

“What do you want to know?” Pia’Sur asked, ignoring Infiel as usual.

“You said you are going to store time? That sounds like nonsense. You said time is not an energy. If it flows through stasis fields and leaves patterns, how can you store it? How can you contain it?” asked Sirithil quickly, showing more impatient interest then elves usually care to.

Pia’Sur began slowly, “I am not really sure what your roll in this experiment is going to be, but I can assume it will be a small one, since it is being performed tomorrow. So I will skip a lot of the technical details and just try to give you the concepts. Is that fair?”

Sirithil quickly nodded.

“All right,” Pia’Sur began. “The Rol/Tar equations are based on some assumptions we have made about time. There are lots of phrases in the language about time. ‘Time heals all wounds.’ ‘The time has come.’ ‘One day at a time.’”

“Time is of the essence.” Infiel added.

“Right,” said Pia’Sur. “Most of these are just poetic, but the theme is constant: time is doing something. It is in motion. The basic gist of it is that this time… well, I will call it energy for lack of better word. This time energy is flowing around us and over us. That is what caused the pattern on the orb during the stasis field test. Make sense?”

“So far,” Sirithil said. “Go on.”

“The theory also states that time energy varies somehow, in the sense that yesterday’s time energy is specific for yesterday, and today’s is specific for today.”

“Wait,” Sirithil interrupted. “So if you were to capture time energy yesterday, and then release it, it would *BE* yesterday?”

“That comes later. Hold up for a second,” Infiel said. Sirithil reluctantly dropped the point.

“We will get to that, yes,” Pia’Sur said, “but this is more important first. If you agree with the fact that yesterday’s time energy is different then today’s, then yesterday’s must be gone and today’s must have come from somewhere.”

Sirithil was not sure she liked where this was going, but she asked the obvious question anyway. “Where, then, does it come from and go to?”

Pia’Sur shrugged. “No one really knows, but then again no one really knows much about any of this. The Ral/Tar equations seem to support the Multiplanar theories, though.”

“Multiplanar theories,” Sirithil said musingly. “I heard a fair amount of that in magic school an age ago. When I cast fire magic, I am not really heating the air with any force on Micras – I am drawing power from the plane of fire. That sort of thing, right?”

“Right,” Pia’Sur said, nodding. “According to the theory, there are all sorts of planes. Elemental planes for things like fire and wind. Planes of good, evil, law, chaos. And maybe a plane of time.”

“And maybe a plane of fish sticks!” added Infiel happily,

Pia’Sur gave him a pained look. “No, there is no plane of fish sticks. Fish sticks are material, and this is the material plane we are on, according to the theory.”

“Well, how do you know?” Infiel retorted with a wild grin. “In an infinite universe there just might be room for a plane of fish sticks. There is as much backing for that as there is for the plane of fire. In fact, I could make a strong case for-”

“Will you shut up about the fish sticks?!” Pia’Sur exploded. “You are just confusing the explanation!”

“I think I understand it,” Sirithil said, smiling in personal revelation as well in light of the antics. “According to Multiplanar theories, time energy flows from the plane of time to our world, and then flows back?”

“Right,” Infiel said. “And knowing that is half the battle. Since we know it is coming and going now, all we have to do is grab some of it.”

“Which is ridiculously harder then he made it out to be.” Pia’Sur said with some annoyance. “Having the equation and knowing about time is one thing. Actually containing this energy is another.”

“That has been my main question all along. How did you do it?” Sirthil asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Time marches on!” Infiel blurted out.

Sirithil and Pia’Sur stared at him.

“Ahh… sorry about that.” Infiel said awkwardly. “Time cliché. Just came up with another one.”

“Anyway,” Pia’Sur said, his head throbbing. “We believe that there is a plane of time and the material plane, that is Micras, are overlapping, and tiny pinhole fractures open to allow the time energy to come and go. So we just have to open up a fracture within our containment area.”

“But HOW?” Sirithil asked, exasperated.

Pia’Sur fidgeted. “I am not so sure how to explain this point. It’s all very technical.“

“Matter creation,” Infiel said suddenly. “Super-dense matter creation. Time covers everything, so if we create new matter out of nothing – or move it from some other plane, if that is what you believe – then time has to flow through it as well. The Temporal Relocator – that is the machine’s name – effectively creates an almost-black hole of super dense matter within the stasis field, and the time energy, in an attempt to saturate this new matter, is trapped by the combined forces of the crushing internal gravity and the stasis field.”

Pia’Sur and Sirithil stared at him again, though this time in shock.

“Ah huh,” Infiel said with a flat smile as he turned to Sirithil. “You heard me talk too much about fish sticks and you got the impression that I was some sort of slouch, right? That I was just here because I’m a pretty face?” Sirithil started to say something, but Infiel continued. “No no, it’s fine. It’s kind of the reputation I find useful. But don’t get the completely wrong idea here. I don’t slave over notes all day but I’m still one of the Society’s most overpaided and overqualified engineers. I just try not to show it very often.”

“Yes, of course,” said Sirithil apologetically. Clearly wanting to change the subject, she asked, “How successful where the other tests? Or is this the first?”

“This is not the first,” said Infiel, “but it is the first I have been on. The other tests were smaller-scale. They captured fractions of fractions of a second of time energy and could not properly contain it. However, they DID capture time energy. The theory is sound.”

“Or so you claim. You still have not addressed my problems with the Rol/Tar equations…” Pia’Sur said.

“And I am not planning on doing so. Ask Corker about it today if it really bothers you.” Infiel replied.

“Who is… Corker?” Sirithil asked with hesitation.

“Ahhh…” Infiel said, taking in a deep breath. “Creepy guy, to be honest. Mind magician, you know.” He tapped the side of his head and winked.

“Wha… ?” Sirithil started, lost.

“Coa’Ker Sel’Alm is the leader of the Temporal Relocator Project,” Pia’Sur explained, exasperated. “And yes, as my friend tactfully pointed out, he is an Empath. He can sense the emotions of others.”

Sirithil looked uncomfortable. “Empaths. One out of every hundred thousand people, and he is our project leader?” she asked whimsically. “What are the odds?”

“Ah, he is not that bad of a guy,” Infiel said. “Just gets a bit, hmm, serious. And he knows things. If we were late today we couldn’t pull the old ‘got stuck in a pothole the size of a small cow’ excuse. Nah, he sees right through that. To lie to him, you really need to believe the lie. And if you believe the lie, you think it’s a truth, so you don’t know you’re lying. It’s nasty business. Far easier to just tell the truth and be done with it.”

“Coa’Ker has actually lived a pretty interesting life,” Pia’Sur mused. “His name literally means ‘Prince of Time’ in Solarian. He was the son of two theoretical mathematicians. Studied temporal mechanics at the Ptia University for Arcane Studies. It was like he was meant to be the leader of this project from the day he was born.”

“That always bugged me,” Infiel said, continuing to prove the fact he could not help but interrupt. “Why do your people use that ‘Ker’ royalty title for every day people? Kids are being named ‘ocean prince’ this and ‘beauty queen’ that. I thought it was supposed to be reserved for actual royalty.”

“Yes,” Pia’Sur said sadly. “The naming system seems to be falling apart somewhat. It can be somewhat confusing.”

“Confusing? It is ridiculous!” Infiel ranted. “If I was in charge of that system-“

“Which we are all glad that you are not…” Pia’Sur said quietly.

“So Coa’Ker knows all about the project?” Sirithil asked, interrupting before this could become another heated argument.

“Oh, yeah. He is the leader. People like Pia’Sur and I are just specialists. I build things and Pia’Sur plays with numbers. But Coa’Ker actually knows what’s going on on the grand scheme level. He designed the entire experiment.”

“Hmm,” Sirthil mused. “Perhaps he can tell me why I am here at all.”

“Well, if he can, you will know soon. This is our tower,” Pia’Sur said as they stood in front of a tower that looked pretty much like all of the others.
Sirithil looked shocked. “That was a shorter walk then I expected in a city this large,” she said.

“Time flies when you are having fun.” Infiel said, grinning. Pia’Sur sighed, though he was grinning too.

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Harvey
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Re: Sealed Gate Chapters 1-6

Post by Harvey »

Chapter 4
Quota



Even a large research campaign requiring multiple teams of projects could not nearly take up an entire Ptia tower. There were dozens of projects within this building, almost none taking up more then two floors, and that meant lots of people coming in early on weekdays such as this. Researchers crowded around the front desk, making inquiries for information or meetings. Others sat in a large waiting area, reading newssheets and sipping hot morning drinks. None of them paid any attention to anyone around them, which did not seem to bother anyone else.

The three researchers pushed their way towards the center of the tower. Sirithil gasped. The center of the tower was completely hollow and soared hundreds of feet into the air. Around each level as far as she could see people were mulling and resting on the railings. Eight glass elevator tubes were scattered around the wall of the opening and people were traveling up and down. In the very center stood a fountain with water shooting out at many points, and on the top of the fountain was a statue of an old micron man gazing forward with his clenched fist raised.

“Sel’Tem himself,” Infiel said, as if reading Sirithil’s mind. “The founder of the Society of World Improvement that bears his name as its clan title.”

“A wonderful monument for a revolutionary thinker,” Pia’Sur added.

“Personally, I think it is a bit gaudy,” said Infiel.

The conversation ended there when the doors to their elevator tube opened up. The three researchers, among a half dozen other people, got in and soared up into the research tower’s labs.


“A word of warning,” Infiel said to Sirithil as they neared their lab’s doors. “Coa’Ker, like I said, is a pretty good guy. But I was very serious about not trying to lie to him. He doesn’t really read your mind all the time, but he can see through lies like nobody’s business. If you would rather not answer a question, just say so. He should understand,”

“You are making this too dramatic. She is meeting a research team leader, not a member of the Triad High Council. Come on,” Pia’Sur said as he pushed through the doors.

Sirithil had been awed and amazed by everything the Society had shown her – up to this point. The actual lab where this fantastic experiment was to be carried out was terribly unimpressive. It consisted of one fairly large, awkwardly wedge-shaped room, which is to be expected from a round tower. At the nearer, narrow end of the room was a big table covered with notes and a few scattered chairs around it. Midway into the room was a large computer terminal, and past that was a glassed off-section near an open window.

Four people were already there. Two middle-aged microns sat at the table. One was of unidentifiable gender, huge blue hair, and a formal robe and cape. The other, a man, had on a standard Society work robe, well-cut green hair, and youthful features. A girl with pink hair stood behind them and was sorting through a file cabinet. What Sirithil thought was almost certainly a wood elf sat in the chair in front of the computer terminal typing furiously with his back to everyone.

The older of the two microns got up and walked over to the three, smiling. At this point Sirithil realized that, despite the huge hair and slightly feminine features, this was indeed a male. “Ah, good, you found her. Sirithil nos Feanor, I am Coa’Ker Sel’Alm, leader of the Temporal Relocator Project,” Coa’Ker said with a small bow. He gestured to the other people at the table. “This is my assistant, Fil’Mel Sel’Tem. The girl there is Midnight Rose, our Society archivist. The one in the back is Ferlwethe, our technical operator.” His tone was soothing, and his eyes comforting, and he made Sirithil worry slightly.

“Soloms! A pleasure to meet you, Lady nos Feanor,” Fil’Mel said, getting to his feet and delivering a lower micron bow.

“Hiya!” Middy said with a wave.

Ferlwethe said nothing and continued typing.

Sirithil focused on Middy, trying to escape Coa’Ker’s tell-me-everything eyes, “Midnight… your hair… magic?”

“Magic? No no!” she answered. “I am human, as you can probably tell, but this is dyed. Magic makes it only one color but dye looks more natural. And please, call me Middy. Everyone else does.”

“Middy has no technical degree but represents the Society and records all of our findings,” Fil’Mel explained. “Coa’Ker and I are both temporal mechanics. Ferlwethe has a decree in computer science and helped Infiel’s team build the computers.”

“Most of the team is gone now, see. We used to have like forty guys and take up this entire floor,” Infiel said. “All the rest of the team were only invited for specific purposes and didn’t know anything major, so they’re gone now that their part of the work is done. We six, well now seven counting you, are the only ones that will be present at the actual experiment.”

Pia’Sur joined Fil’Mel at the table and Infiel went over to Ferlwethe’s computer terminal, leaving Sirithil feeling awkwardly left out.

“Okay,” Coa’Ker began as he walked over to her as if sensing the awkwardness. Sirithil immediately wished he hadn’t, “I am just going to get this out of the way. I am an Empath. No doubt those two already told you. I cannot read your mind or anything like that, so your thoughts are safe. What I can do is pick up your emotions and make some guesses at what you might be thinking. I apologize if this unnerves you, but that is who I am.”

Sirithil said nothing.

“You are wondering,” Coa’Ker went on, “why you are here.”

“I am,” she replied simply.

“It does not take an Empath to guess that. The note did not tell you and neither Pia’Sur nor Infiel really knew. The fact of the matter is that this project is not really sanctioned by the Triad government or the Society officially, but on some level they know about us. And since the Triad is made up of three species, they wanted to make sure they were represented properly.”

Sirithil had been thinking something along those lines for a while now, but it seemed wrong. “Ferlwethe is a wood elf, and I am sure there were other elves on your design team.”

“Truth. However, Pia’Sur, Infiel, myself, and to lesser extent Fil’Mel are all very well known experts in our fields. The elves felt that they needed someone of similar ranks among us. Ferlwethe is an exceptional computer engineer, but he lacks the prestige to match those that represent the humans and the microns. As you probably know, Elivia does not really approve of experiments like this, and as such they have no truly high-ranking elves in this field,” Coa’Ker explained.

“So I am here to fill… a quota?” Sirithil said, her lips creasing.

“You could think of it that way,” Coa’Ker said with a dismissive shrug. “The fact is that the Temporal Relocator Project should make history tomorrow. The elves want to make sure that the record will state that one of them was involved.”

Sirithil was about to get mad at this, but fought it off best she could. Coa’Ker clearly had nothing to do with this decision himself. It was not even the Society’s or the Traid’s fault, but the fault of her stubborn cousins in Elivia.

She shrugged. “Well, if I am going to be here, I might as well get myself involved. What is the purpose of this experiment to the Triad, officially?” Sirithil asked.

Coa’Ker smiled. “You know what the real purpose is. We are collecting time waves. Officially, the project has no purpose. It was never started. Unofficially, in the minds of most higher-ups, the project has no purpose, because it was abandoned before it was ever given a purpose,” he said.

“And un-unofficially, the purpose of the experiment is to develop time magic for the military,” Infiel added with a smile.

“What? That is not what you are doing at all.” Sirithil was puzzled.

“Ahhh…” Coa’Ker took a deep breath. “That is a complicated matter but one that is vitally important to the modern-day research community. I didn’t really think it mattered though, but Infiel always insists on bringing it up.”

“Do you mind if we take this one, Coa’Ker? I love explaining this,” Infiel asked.

Coa’Ker gave him a nod and turned back to research notes to speak with Fil’Mel in low voices.

“Okay,” Infiel began, “It is like this. The real purpose of the experiment is to capture time energy. You know that. The people that need to know that know that. That is the truth. But this is not a well-publicized project and the word never got out. You can only imagine the public panic and outcry if the world at large found out we are beginning to manipulate time. Now, despite Society rules of secrecy during research, some of the people that do know the truth tell others that do not know and, frankly, do not need to know, what we are doing.”

“But, memories are unreliable,” he continued. “No offense to anyone here, but they are. People do not always understand the details, and they cannot remember long technical accounts, so when they tell people about things they distort the facts with summaries and sometimes just make stuff up to fill in the blanks.”

“There have been a number of experiments regarding these phenomena,” Pia’Sur added. “It is a natural process and it has probably caused more confusion, distrust, and bloodshed over history then any intentional acts of violence.”

“Take our experiment for example,” said Infiel. “We are capturing time energy. Well, to someone else, that might not make sense, so maybe they think we are mapping time energy. They tell that to another person and suddenly we are using a machine to map time energy. That sounds a lot like we are using a machine for time calculations. Or maybe time travel. If people gossip long enough, the stories start getting really bizarre and pretty soon we are planning to send an army back in time to exterminate all the elves.”

“Which they are not,” Ferlwethe said suddenly from the back of the room.

“Which we are not. So, basically, people simply the facts until they are so distorted that the truth is completely lost,” Pia’Sur summed up.

“I think I can understand that,” Sirithil said. “It is common upon elves to write down the facts quickly in situations where they will be important, or else our long memories will distort them. But what does this have to do with this un-unofficial business?”

“Well,” Infiel said, grinning, “get this. Let’s say that a person who thinks we are building a time machine meets with someone who thinks we are doing research for the military. They might agree that the story was changed somewhere, and that the REAL story is that we are building a military time machine. Add in another person that heard it is magic, and we are doing time magic research for the military. The story becomes a conglomeration of all the rumors combined. Something that sounds like it could be true, but is in fact way off from the truth.”

“Eventually a higher-up hears this story that everyone can agree on, and he assumes he heard wrongly originally, even if he was one of the few people to get it right,” Pia’Sur said. “So he changes the official record of what we are doing to this rumor-story thing that everyone believes. And once it is recorded it is official and everyone can assume that was always like that.”

“Essentially, the purpose becomes something that’s easy to understand. Thus, the term un-unofficial refers to the nature of the project as everyone believes it is, which is of course completely wrong. And so we pretend that is what we were doing all along,” Infiel finished, looking smug.

“That seems needlessly drawn out and complicated,” Sirithil commented. “Why not just tell them the truth?”

“For one, they did. That is how this got started, remember?” Coa’Ker explained, turning back to Sirithil. “Others did not believe it, or wanted to spice it up to make it a better story, and so the story changed. The more major reason is it is easier to just pretend then try to explain it to everyone. Remember, most of these people should not know about the project in the first place. This is extremely sensitive material.”

“But you are living a lie!” Sirithil blurted out.

Everyone frowned. Coa’Ker said, “We are not living a lie. We are doing research. When the research is done we will give it to the Society, and they can tell people whatever they want about it.”

Sirithil still looked unhappy with the concept. She turned to Middy and asked, “What do you think about all this?”

“Oh, they tell this story every couple of weeks,” Middy answered cheerfully as she searched through a file cabinet. “To me, yeah, it sounds pretty silly, but the research world is a complicated place. I consider myself lucky to just keep the records and stay out of politics.”

“Hey,” called Ferlwethe from his terminal. “As interesting as your enlightenment into the dark work of research for the academic newbie is, can we please get on with this? We need to have everything ready for tomorrow.”

“Yes, of course,” Coa’Ker said at once. “Pia’Sur, Infiel, we are going to do a dry trial run with the equipment off. Sirithil, feel free to observe. It will probably look silly, but we do not want mess-ups tomorrow.

The group filed to the back and clustered around the mainframe for the next half hour or so. Sirithil watched as everyone pretended to play with dials and talked about technical things she did not understand. It DID sound a bit silly, but she could none-the-less feel her excitement growing.


Later that evening, Sirithil was walking back to the hotel with Infiel and Pia’Sur after eating a fine dinner with the whole team. They had all quickly warmed up to her, which she thought was nice considering she served no useful purpose at all. She was troubled about one thing though, and she had to bring it up.

“This is just the first step in the process, right?” she asked as crossed the Tower Gardens. “There are other experiments planned, I assume. You will eventually want to manipulate time energy, not just capture it.”

“Bingo,” Infiel confirmed.

“Aren’t you at all worried about the possible repercussions of all this? People going back in time to assassinate leaders, taking back words that hurt their loved ones, reshaping history to fit their wants? Even the military uses for time travel could cause terrible trouble.” She blurted out, finally unable to contain it anymore.

“Coa’Ker and I had a talk about this one over lunch one night,” Pia’Sur said. “We were worried about time paradoxes, yes, but eventually decided there are none.”

“You cannot just decide something like that over a snack!” Sirithil said. “There is no proof that time paradoxes will not destroy us all.”

“Honey, you are not thinking clearly,” Infiel said, which made Sirithil turn beat red. “Do we all look destroyed to you?”

“Well, no, but that is because the paradox has not occurred yet!” Sirithil responded.

“’Yet’ has no meaning in time studies,” Pia’Sur said. “As an example, let us say we invent time travel and someone goes back and kills Argent before he defeats the necromancer. No Ptia, no Triad alliance, different future, right?”

“Right.” Sirithil agreed.

“Wrong!” Infiel exclaimed. “Argent was not killed. If he was killed, then Ptia would not be here! It does not matter if we have not invented time travel ‘yet’. If the past was going to be changed from the future, it would be changed NOW. He should already have died if he was going to be assassinated. But he did not, so he cannot be killed due to time travel.”

Sirithil mulled it over for a while. It still left her feeling uneasy.

“I don’t know… it seems to be that some things were not meant to be placed in mortal hands,” she said, then, seeing their looks, quickly added. “Well, in anybody’s hands except the gods. Elves are no exception.”

“Gods shmods,” Infiel said, perhaps too lightly. “These so-called gods have been too quiet for too long. Too many achievements have been attributed to them. But if they do exist, and if they really want to project their precious secrets, they still have tomorrow to try something.”

He did not retract that statement, but they walked back to the hotel all wishing he had.

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Harvey
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Re: Sealed Gate Chapters 1-6

Post by Harvey »

Chapter 5
The Seal Opens



Sirithil had hoped to get a good long trance period in before the day’s experiment, but it was not to be. Loud knocking on her door a half hour before they were set to meet interrupted her trance. Her focus lost, her mind slipped out of its contemplative state and she saw the world around her take focus again. Almost immediately, the throbbing pain of a headache associated with a broken trance threatened to overwhelm her, but millennia of training allowed her to push it back and regain her focus on the real world.

The door opened impatiently and Infiel poked his head in. “Complications,” he said simply.

“Good morning to you too,” Sirithil said, getting to her feet. “What sort of complications?”

“Someone went public to the Ptia Skyline newssheet last night. I am not sure on the details but there is lots of trouble. Coa’Ker has called a meeting downstairs in… uh… five minutes ago. Let’s go.” The door closed and he was gone.

Sirithil groaned quietly. She knew she thought things were going too smoothly.


Down in the tower’s lobby, Infiel and Sirithil met up with the rest of the group. Pia’Sur was looking over his stack of arcane equations, as usual. Fil’Mel was talking to Coa’Ker, the latter who was mainly just nodding to what the former had to say and staring absently at something on the table. All of them looked absolutely exhausted. Middy and Ferlwethe were conspicuously absent.

“They went ahead to prepare the lab for today’s experiment,” Coa’Ker said. Sirithil nodded in response to her unasked question. She was already getting used to the strange micron, but he still felt wrong to her.

“What’s the damage?” Infiel asked.

“It would appear that one of your design team members broke his Society nondisclosure agreement and went public to the Ptia Skyline newssheet last night,” Coa’Ker said. Society of World Improvement members were routinely sworn not to say anything about their projects, ever, and to let the official channels handle public communications. “He probably gave him the plans to the Temporal Relocator and an explanation of what we are trying to do.”

“Treacherous bastard!” Infiel exclaimed, banging a fist on the table.

“Unfortunately,” Fil’Mel said, frowning, “the Ptia Skyline is a credible newssheet that never publishes without backing up their stories. It seems they did some fast research and discovered the un-unofficial purpose for the project. The article they published is all about military time travel.” He tossed down the newssheet for Sirithil to see. The headline at the top read “Will Ptia’s Armies Fight Through Time?”

“The Society is furious at this person who revealed the story, at the Ptia Skyline, at us, at pretty much everyone. This sort of thing really hurts their prestige and will have backlash on us. Since the project is to be performed today they are not going to pull the plug, but it might be harder to get funding and manpower for future experiments with time energy,” Coa’Ker said.

“Even if this experiment is a wild success?” Sirithil asked.

“Yeah, that one had me confused for a while too,” Infiel explained, “but basically micron society cares a lot more about prestige and personal opinion then we do. No matter the results of something, if the public hates it, then they are shamed and other people are more hesitant to work with them in the future.”

“That is pretty much the gist of it,” Coa’Ker said. “In order to preserve not only our own prestige but the future of this line of research, we needed to take drastic action. I called Tar’Bel, Rol’Vul’s assistant and the brains behind the Rol/Tar time equations, early this morning. He is Tar’Bul now, a powerful and influential researcher in a somewhat different field of time studies then our own. Tar’Bul was sympathetic to our problem and has offered his support in getting us out of this mess.”

Sirithil nodded. “That’s good news. With hope we will be able to get in and start our experiment before word spread too much.”

Coa’Ker and Infiel exchanged bewildered glances. After a moment, Infiel said, “Ah, we forgot. You’re new here. You might be surprised. We’d better get going before it gets too bad.”

Sirithil frowned one of her these-people-worry-me frowns and finished her breakfast uneasily.


Sirithil quickly realized exactly how wrong she was. The Tower Gardens that morning retained virtually none of their calm majesty that they held the day before. Although barely after dawn, the enter center of the city was a massive churning throng of microns, elves, and humans in one of the largest spontaneous gatherings of people in the entire history of the Micron Empire. The flurry of excitement was, of course, all about the upcoming Society for World Improvement’s “trip through time.”
All of the major micron clans had shown up for the occasion. The Society, of course, was clustered around their building at the center of the action and was shouting on bullhorns that there was no time travel experiment. The Mai’Lor Volunteer Defense Force had, predictably, dispatched most of the city’s security toward defending the Society from angry mobs and generally trying to stop a riot or a slaughter. The Worldbeam radicals were triumphantly announcing that they had proven time travel was possible ages ago, although they were slightly annoyed that the Society had decided to take full credit for the discovery.

The main opposition to the Society was composed mostly of Car’Set Government Reform Activists, who were surrounding the Society’s Tower and, at least in Sirithil’s mind, looked ready to storm the place with pitchforks and burning torches. As the researchers approached she realized that she hadn’t been too far from the mark. Bom’Ber political protesters had actually begun passing out torches and even acquired a small artillery piece from somewhere and had it pointed at the tower menacingly. A small group of Lum’Eir healers and preservers of the peace were screaming at the Bom’Bers to not fire it and actually start a battle, but most of the city veterans were used to Bom’Ber’s antics by now. Their clan would immediately be banned by the Micron Empire if they actually attacked so of course they would not. Still, they wanted everyone to know that they might if they really wanted to. Perhaps strangest of all, the Ero’Nam clan had opened up what looked like a small fair and casino, and a good deal of humans and microns were enjoying themselves at what otherwise was a perfectly serious political protest. This was not typical behavior for Ero’Nam and was probably in response to recent accusations that the clan was just a group of organized thuggery and petty theft. Such was life in Ptia.

Mixed in between the groups of micron clans were hoards of elves and humans, along with a few of the smaller clans and unaffiliated. Some represented various government ministries, other were members of the press shouting various questions and accusations, but the vast majority were probably city residents that didn’t want to be left out of what was looking to be the most interesting development in Ptia in months, or at least until the next good Gravball game. Several dozen enterprising merchants were already selling food and drinks, and there was general merriment on the outskirts, to the point where Sirithil began to seriously wonder if most of the people had any idea what was going on at all.

The idea of pushing through a mob of several thousand people, most of which that were angry at her and her companions even if they didn’t realize it, was not a comfortable one. None-the-less, Sirithil felt a pang of disappointment when Coa’Ker led the team past the mobs towards one of the other nearby towers.

Unable to contain her confusion, Sirithil asked, “We’re not going to the Society’s tower?”

“We are going to the Society’s tower,” Coa’Ker answered, “but we are going there through by another path. The Volunteer Defense Force has agreed to allow us to enter their tower and use a connecting underground passage into the Society’s building.”

“It’s no fun,” Infiel added with a hint of bitterness. “I mean, I don’t want to get lynched by that mob or anything, but I wanted to hear what Tar’Bul and our people saying about the situation. Are they denying everything? Covering it all up and casting us to the jackals?”

“No,” Fil’Mel said simply. “It’s not their style to outright lie. They’ll probably try to confuse the press with technical details while making it clear we are not actually going back in time.”

“It barely matters what they say,” Coa’Ker said in reassuring tones. “The press wants answers. They will get them in a few hours when we successfully capture the time energy. It will still be a stir, but it will not have all the historians worried that we are going to go back and kill the first leaders of the Triad government.”

The walk to the Volunteer Defense Force’s tower was not a long one, and soon they had arrived at the front doors. On any normal day this would be an area of as much excitement as the rest of the Tower Gardens, but today was not normal and the rest of the area was mostly ignored. The door’s lone guard bowed to Coa’Ker as he passed.

“Welcome, Prince of Time. May things go well for you today,” he said.

Sirithil could not help but make a face.


The lobby of the main research tower of the Society for World Improvement lost some of its power when not filled with everyday activity, but at the same time it gained a new one. While not the bustling hive of overwhelming activity from the day before, everything seemed so much more potent in silence. The awesome stone statue of Sel’Tem still stared down at Sirithil, as if watching her from the far past. You have no right to judge me, old man, she found herself thinking before realizing the insanity of it. The fountain continued to bubble, sounding loud and awkward in the otherwise still air. Even the shining elevators that soared up into the empty core of the tower seemed ominous, as if inviting everyone towards a fate that no one could control or even predict.

It’s all getting to my head, Sirithil thought, fighting these strange feelings. All these micron clans, all this insane technology, this bustle, even the quirky bunch that they set me up with. This is some sort of bizarre test for me, to try to prove to me that there is still much in this world that an immortal doesn’t know. But I’m not going to fall for it.

“Sirithil? Infiel? Are you two coming?” Fil’Mel asked from the elevator where the rest of the team had gathered.

“My apologies,” Sirithil said, snapping out of her monologue and hurrying to the elevator.

“Infiel,” came Fil’Mel’s voice again. “Let’s go.” It was no longer a request.

But Infiel seemed not to care. He had his back to everyone and was staring at the closed doors of Society’s tower. Sirithil didn’t get it for a moment, until she realized that she could hear someone giving a speech from outside the tower.

“Infiel!” Pia’Sur exclaimed, exasperated.

“Sshhh,” Infiel sshhhed, “Tar’Bul is giving a speech now, about us. I only heard a bit of it, but it looks like we are getting some actual Society support. That’s a bit unexpected since they never officially sanctioned our project.”

“It can wait,” Pia’Sur said firmly. “Let’s go, or you’ll have to catch the next elevator.”

“Then I’m catching the next one,” Infiel retorted, annoyed. “I want to know if I need to relocate back to Jiden to find work tomorrow. And, to be honest, I’m surprised none of you care more.” With that, he turned back to the doors.

Pia’Sur sighed but made no effort to push the elevator button. After a second, Fil’Mel did it himself, and the elevator began to rise. Coa’Ker gave Fil’Mel a look, but said nothing.

Feeling the awkwardness in the air and the need to explain himself, Fil’Mel said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve gotten sort of tired of his attitude about things. I want to know what the Society is saying as much as anyone else, but we have people waiting on us in the labs. We can hear the reports later.”

Coa’Ker said, “You’re right. We need to be thinking about the task at hand, not what we will do tomorrow if the Society abandons us. This experiment will be very touchy. Best not to be distracted.”

The elevator rose in silence, and Sirithil knew that despite Coa’Ker’s words, everyone was already distracted. Too many things were happening too quickly, and in the small bits of downtime she had, her mind was spinning to try to keep up. Idly, she turned to the elevator’s reading of what floor they were passing.

“Mmm?” she asked after seeing the number. “We’re not going to the lab from yesterday?”

“We are not,” Fil’Mel said. “That was only a preparation lab. We will be performing the experiment in the Society’s Skydome lab on floor 100, the top floor of this building.”

“You did not honestly think that an experiment of this importance was going to be performed in that tiny wedge of a room, did you?” Coa’Ker asked, smiling.

Sirithil actually had thought that. It seemed improper to say so somehow, and she very much didn’t feel like saying a lie to the strange man. So she simply smiled and returned to watching the numbers go by. Within a minute the view from the windows vanished into a view of the wall as elevator pulled up into an enclosed area. A cheerful tone told that them that they had arrived at their floor and the elevator’s doors opened to reveal a small corridor with stairs leading up to a solid looking door. No longer well lit, only a small overhead light in the middle of the corridor gave some light, and cast shadows through the entire hall.

It’s just my head, Sirithil thought frantically. Kind of creepy corridor? Big strong door? Seen them before. No big deal. This is normal. But the other side of her mind was undermining the attempt and her hands began to shake ever so slightly. The group progressed down the hallway, up the stairs, and opened the door to the lab. Another small flight of stairs with an open ceiling lead them into the room at the top of the tower.

Middy was already inside, idly taking notes. She turned to the group with a cheerful, “Hi!”

“Hello Middy,” Coa’Ker said back as he approached the machinery. “Where’s Ferlwethe?” he asked.

“Bathroom,” Middy replied simply. “Been gone a while. He’s probably nervous. Everything is set up though, but of course we’ll need to him to operate the machinery.” She looked around. “Infiel?”

“Downstairs listening to the Society’s speeches,” Fil’Mel said without trying to hide his disgust.

Sirithil barely heard them. Immortals were difficult to impress by their very virtue of having seen so much dramatic stuff over their lifetimes, but this lab did something for her. It wasn’t awe-inspiring like the Tower Gardens, or mind-boggling as when she first heard what this team was trying to accomplish. Rather, this laboratory could only be described as overwhelmingly nifty.

She was standing in a circular room over a hundred feet long with an almost entirely unbroken window offering a panoramic view of the rest of the city. The ceiling above was slanted upwards towards the middle and was completely blue, starting above the windows and meeting at the highest point over the center at what must have been over fifty feet in the air. The very center portion of the dome was also glass window, and when combined with the blueness of the dome, gave the impression that the walls were fighting a losing battle at keeping out the rest of the world.

In the middle of this fabulous room was a cylindrical depression in the ground about ten feet in diameter and twenty feet down. Surrounding this were pillars of metal with spikes on the top, and electrical energy arched between them apparently at random, giving off a powerful crackling noise. Various pipes and wires lead up from the ground, at first also appearing at random, but the more Sirithil looked the more she realized that there was a pattern to them. The only asymmetric thing about the entire top floor was the largish computer cluster and the people standing around it, along with a low wall to give the resemblance of a workstation in this otherwise completely open area.

Sirithil smiled. A big nifty room was a nice change. She could deal with that.

“Have you checked the charges on the towers yet?” Pia’Sur was asking.

Fil’Mel poked a few keys on the computer station. “It’s all charged up properly. This should be able to augment the matter creation spell just as we planned.”

Pia’Sur gave a slow nod and a glance at his ever-present notebook. “Well,” he said, “maybe the Rol/Tar equations are complete after all.”

Coa’Ker gave what Sirithil still thought as a creepy smile. “I’ve been telling you all along, Pia. You’ve done good work. Stop trying to find fault in it.”

Pia’Sur didn’t look entirely convinced still, but was spared having to say such by the door opening again. Ferlwethe came up the stairs at a slow trot. “Apologies for the delay. Are we ready to proceed?” he asked.

Middy gave him a look. “You were gone a long time,” she said accusingly.

“I do not question your bathroom habits, my lady, and I would appreciate if you did not question mine,” he responded simply.

Fil’Mel said, “Infiel is not here yet, but it would not matter if we star-“

“We will wait for Infiel,” Coa’Ker interrupted firmly. “He is the human representative on this project and he will be present when we do this.” The word ‘representative’ sent a slight pang through Sirithil’s mind as she remembered her only reason for even being there was to fill her race’s quota.

Fil’Mel’s only response was to circle around the machinery, idly poking at connections and checking dials. Awkwardly, the rest of the researchers ended up doing similar things to kill time. Ferlwethe asserted himself as the master of the computer console once again. Only a few minutes later, Infiel came through the door looking thoughtful and distant.

“Nice of you to join us,” Fil’Mel said. Coa’Ker gave him a look.

“What did the Society have to say?” Middy asked.

“The Society?” Infiel said, looking confused. “Oh yeah. It’s all good. They’ve done a decent job of setting the record straight, so after this, ah, after we succeed we shouldn’t be in any real trouble.”

“That’s excellent news,” Coa’Ker said in a commanding voice. “And now, if no one has any objections, I’d like to get this underway.”

Everyone muttered approvals. Coa’Ker, Pia’Sur, and Fil’Mel gathered around the depression the room. Infiel and Middy hovered around Ferlwethe at the computer station. Sirithil felt left out once again but wandered towards the computers.

“Infiel?” Pia’Sur asked questioningly. “Aren’t you going to participate in the matter creation ritual?”

Infiel shook his head. “I’m no mage so my part in the ritual is basically psychological, like Fil’Mer’s. The machine is what matters most here, and I want to make sure that Ferlwethe is operating it correctly.”

Ferlwethe looked thoroughly uncomfortable, but did not object.

“Very well, Infiel. If you feel unworthy then having you in the ritual will not help us,” Coa’Ker said. “In that case, I ask the lady nos Feanor to assist us.”

“Me?” Sirithil asked, surprised. “I have no idea what the spell you’re going to cast is. I do not want to confuse your casting.”

“Then do not cast,” Coa’Ker replied. “Given other circumstances we could have trained you to cast this spell directly, but you can still give us support even without the magic. Please, join us.”

Sirithil took the empty spot around the cylindrical depression without further protest. In truth, she did feel good doing something, even if it was just standing there. Coa’Ker gave Ferlwethe a nod, and he pushed a button on the computer console.

Coa’Ker began speaking, “Record two-hundred twenty-five of the Temporal Relocator Project,” he said. “Recorded during the 715th year of the T3 Alliance. Coa’Ker Sel’Alm recording. Fil’Mel Sel’Tem, Pia’Sur Sel’Tem, Infiel Galebrush, Ferlwethe Lindeorne, and Sirithil nos Feanor participating. Midnight Rose representing the Society. Experiment being performed in the Skydome Laboratory in the Society for World Improvement. As follows is the full recording of this test, following the code set by the Society for World Improvement.” Sirithil marveled. Despite the fact that he had almost certainly made dozens of similar recordings, Coa’Ker did not show one hint of boredom in his voice when citing the preliminary statement.

“Brief synopsis of the experiment is as follows,” Coa’Ker continued. “We shall use a matter creation spell with the aid of the Temporal Relocator machine to create approximately three-hundred tons of super-dense matter within the gravity field beneath us. The stasis fields will be activated at 98.7% strength for two minutes and sixteen seconds, and then will be pushed to 100% power for an indefinite amount of time. The hypothesis of this experiment states that time energy will be confused, if you will pardon the term, within the gravity and stasis fields within the super-dense matter, and thus be trapped for further study.”

He took a breath and spread his arms. Everyone matched the gesture. Lowering his head and closing his eyes in concentration, Coa’Ker said, “Let the ritual begin.”

Pia’Sur and Coa’Ker began to chant softly in Solarian. Sirithil allowed herself a small smile. Even though they were considered heretic mages and outcasts of micron life, the Solarians had made one of the most significant contribution in Micras’s history: creating a language of magic. The actual words were mostly nonsense, but for some reason, when spoken it was amazingly effective at transferring internal magical powers into whatever shape they willed. The elves liked the concept, if not the words, and had invented their own language with similar results, but it never caught on among microns and humans.

The actual spell, Sirithil quickly realized, was earth-based. Matter creation was almost always earth-based as it called upon the tireless power of the ground. The sound and power of the spell felt much as one would expect the earth to feel. So slow that you could easily walk away, yet so powerful that, should it catch up to you, you had no chance to fight back. It ebbed and it flowed, and Sirithil could predict the next words before they were spoken, but she said nothing and only continued to exist, to lend her powers to the casting mages in order to strengthen their wills. Finally, she could feel the spell reach its peak.

A flash of power glowed brightly from the pit as the super-dense matter was pulled into existence suddenly. The four researchers around the cylindrical pit, even some feet away from the hole itself, staggered awkwardly under the pull of the enormous power of the gravity field caused by the spell. As the gravity containment fields came on and the spell’s energy faded away, the effect passed quickly, and everyone managed to regain their balance. “Stasis fields online,” Ferlwelthe announced. Sirithil looked down into the pit to only see the pure blackness of the field’s edge.


With no prior warning, the windows around the perimeter of the room all simultaneously blew out and the morning hair howled all around.

The researchers, still fighting not to fall forward, were suddenly pulled in the opposite direction by the powerful force of air as the pressure equalized through the building. Ferlwethe’s chair topped backwards and he made a mad dive under the console. Infiel grabbed on to Middy and pressed both of them against the low wall around the station. But the four around the pit had nowhere to hide, Coa’Ker and Pia’Sur latched onto the ledge, Sirithil fell to the ground and began sliding backwards, and Fil’Mel’s light frame would have been sucked out completely had he not hooked himself to one of the pipes coming out of the ground. Lightning cracked uncontrolled from the tops of the spires around the pit.

“What the HELL is going on?!” Fil’Mel yelled over the roar of air as he struggled for a grip.

“Some sort of freak weather thing!” Infiel shouted back from behind the wall, though it ended up sounding more like a question then anything else.”

The pressure began to fall, as did the roar of the wind. Sirithil felt herself no longer being dragged back and chanced letting go. She struggled to her feet, as did the rest of the team.

“Shut it down,” Infiel said at once when Ferlwethe got back in front of the computer.

Ferlwethe pawed at the computer’s keyboard. “But the experiment is running fine!” he protested. “Everything is within normal parameters.”

“Shut the damn thing down!” Infiel roared.

“The clouds! Look!” Sirithil said, staring with horror.

The calm morning’s dawn had spontaneously erupted into a fierce storm. Dark clouds had bubbled as far as the eye could see to the edges of the horizon far over the oceans around Ptia. Sirithil could see sheets of water falling in several sections of the city, but not all of them. The sky churned and roared.

“Shut it down,” Coa’Ker said.

“We’re 1:36 into it. We’re almost done.” Ferlwethe said.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s foolish to think we aren’t somehow involved,” Pia’Sur said as he examined a cut on his leg. “We need to figure out what’s going on. I’m hitting the emergency stop.” And he moved to do so.

“NO!” Ferlwethe yelled and he pulled out a standard-issue Mai’Lor Laser Sidearm. He waved it frantically, centering on one person before switching to another, his eyes following the gun.

Everyone else stared, shocked.

“This ends here and now,” he said. “We’re going to finish this, so that no one else will try it again.”

“You knew something wasn’t right,” Coa’Ker said accusingly. “You knew something like this would happen.”

Ferlwethe pointed the sidearm at Coa’Ker. “And you didn’t?” he sneered. “You knew too. This whole experiment has been wrong from the start.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Coa’Ker said simply. “I would have never endangered anyone.”

“You LIE!” Ferlwethe shouted.

The tension built and Ferlwethe looked about ready to end Coa’Ker’s life when, out of nowhere, Infiel kicked him square in the stomach. Enraged, Ferlwethe whirled his pistol around, only to find that Infiel had another pointed right in his face.

“When you’re going to go to the bathroom to get a gun,” Infiel said simply as he stared at Ferlwethe over his own laser pistol, “you should be especially careful not to leave empty laser battery casings on the floor. Someone might see them and get a little concerned.”

An awkward moment passed.

Without tensing, Ferlwethe whipped a fast punch at Infiel with his gun hand. Infiel blocked with both his hands, and the two laser pistols cracked together and spun off into the roaring winds. Infiel did his best to defend himself but the elf was relentless and Infiel fell into the flimsy wall surrounding computer console. Something must have gotten knocked loose and a bright flash shot out of the middle of the cylindrical depression.

Sirithil had a firebolt spell prepared for the past several seconds, but had not had a clear shot at Ferlwethe without hitting Infiel. Realizing she wouldn’t get one anytime soon she hurried over to the depression to see what was causing the light. She didn’t get far. An explosion from a ruptured pipe knocked them all on their backs. Everyone, even Infiel and Ferlwethe in mid-headlock turned towards the center of the room in horror.

The lightning from the spires was shooting into a great ball of swirling light hovered over the still dark pit. From within came a ghastly sound that was almost a tortured song. White pulsing light bathed over the entire room. All eyes were fixed upon this bizarre sight. It was beautiful in a way, horrible in another; a fully alien experience that no one was meant to see.

We should have never gone down this road… Sirithil realized the ball was increasing in size and expanding outward at an alarming rate and tried to scoot backward in absolute terror. She tried to look away from the center of the glowing light but her muscles were frozen in fear. Finally she let out a scream as the ball overcame her and she forced her eyes shut.

Sirithil felt as if she was falling for a while, and then felt nothing at all.

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Harvey
Ghost of Christmas Past
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Joined: Thu Nov 25, 2010 3:27 pm

Re: Sealed Gate Chapters 1-6

Post by Harvey »

Afterthought
An Echo of the Future



The Mai’Lor security chief winced. Yet another of his men had come back with severe radiation burns after trying to enter the Skydome laboratory. The poor lad had been wearing the best protection suit in the Empire and it had done him exactly no good. He probably would not survive another hour.

Completely safe, the Society had said three days earlier when the cursed experiment had been allowed to proceed. The ruthless storm that had been conjured up out of thin air and had battered the city for two days, causing hundreds of trampling deaths from stampeding rioters and almost two month’s worth of taxes in damage from high winds did not seem safe. The shockwave that had shot out of the tower and overloaded most small-scale electronics within several miles, causing insane, almost incalculable further damages and shutting down local business for what would likely be weeks did not seem safe. And now the top of one of the Towers was a radiation zone like none other on the planet. The weirdest part about it was that even the door below the Skydome was actually radiation free, as was the air around it despite the fact that all the windows had been blown out. But inside the Skydome was a burning white light. Already people had been worried that a star or a black hole or something unnatural had been created here on Micras, but that seemed not the case. Whatever it was, it was staying within that lab.

As for the researchers themselves, they were almost certainly dead, killed by their arrogance that they could somehow harness time for their own purposes. Serves them right, the chief thought.

He didn’t know what repercussions this would have on the Society for World Improvement, but he personally wanted to forget it all. If they sealed up the windows and door to the Skydome lab forever, maybe they could begin the process. Still, it was doubtful that anyone in Ptia alive that day could forget the strange horrors of that day.


“Rii’Iia,” came a voice behind a woman on far distant shores. She didn’t bother to turn around. It continued, “We all felt the shockwave, even out here on Solaria. What does it mean?”

What does it mean, indeed. Rii’Iia, a Solarian that could barely be called alive, had no idea. She and her people rarely paid attention to the mainland that hated them so much, but that shockwave that had spread as if the world had been wrung like a bell.

She offered no answer, but instead asked a question, “How long until Solaria will vanish from this plane?”

“Less then 180 years, my lady,” came the reply.

Rii’Iia’s mind smiled. After waiting thousands of years, 180 was nothing to her. A mere heartbeat in the progress of this planet. She could wait it out here on the shores of Solaria, outside their Sun Tower temple where they continued to harness the power of the Wind Song, the source of all magic. She didn’t need to eat, or sleep, or even think. At this point, Rii’Iia simply was. But she decided to return to the temple for a bit. She passed the micron man that was her second in command. He had a name, but names were becoming trivial to her now.

Before entering, Rii’Iia said, “For thousands of years I have been sure that we are the only hope for our people,” she paused for a moment. “But, now, maybe there is another. I watch this Coa’Ker with interest at afar, but it is of little matter to us now. Let’s finish our final preparation for the Herald.”

“Yes, my lady,” her second said, and they entered the Sun Tower for the last time.

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Harvey
Ghost of Christmas Past
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Joined: Thu Nov 25, 2010 3:27 pm

Re: Sealed Gate Chapters 1-6

Post by Harvey »

OOC: this is where the story officially ended. I'm including chapter six, the first part of the next five-chapter cycle, purely for completionist reasons. It answers some of the questions left at chapter 5 but raises new ones. It's much, much longer than the other chapters but still manages to feel disjointed and rushed. I'm not amazingly happy with this chapter and it would have likely seen a lot of revision, but here we go anyway.


Existence


Chapter 6
The Void



Infiel felt as if he had been falling for days. It was a real shock to him to actually land on something solid and not feel his bones shattering. He let out an “ooof!” which he thought sounded very weird. Eventually he decided it was because a half dozen people had also let out an “ooof!” at that same moment too.

Still alive…, a distant corner of Infiel’s mind thought. He hadn’t really expected to be. He opened his eyes and got to his knees to look around. Immediately he regretted it. Everything was dark, and despite is lack of broken bones something was shook up inside. He lapsed into a coughing fit.

“Okay,” he said amidst coughs, “who’s not dead?”

“I’m alive,” came Middy’s voice from close by.

“Same here.” “I’m still alive.” “I’ll survive, probably.” Sirithil, Ferlsweth, and Pia’Sur.

“Fil’Mel is dead. He seems to have died on impact somehow. I can’t really see how,” Coa’Ker said quietly from what sounded like some distance away.

“Innorouk’s blade…” Infiel swore. “I didn’t mean to-“

“No,” Coa’Ker said, though he could not hide the pain. “I know what you meant. Worry about the living right now. Is anyone injured?”

“That exploding pipe did a number on my ears,” Sirithil said at almost a yell. “But I think I’m okay.”

“I’m bleeding,” Pia’Sur said calmly. “Left leg. Not too bad, I think. I’ll be fine.”

“My legs feel weird,” Middy said. A hand touched Infiel on the knee. Infiel reached down and met it.

“I’m scared,” Middy said in a low whisper.

So am I. What have we gotten ourselves into? Infiel had been thinking, but that’s not what she needed to hear. “Don’t worry girl. We’re going to be fine. I’ll check your legs,” he whispered back.

Infiel crawled around her as best he could amidst the rubble of the destroyed workstation. The ground, the rubble, the very air felt somehow strange to him. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, and found that he could see a little. The ground in front of him was light barely by some sort of olive green light. Lit by this unnerving glow, Infiel found the body of Middy in front of him and saw that the computer console had fallen forward on her legs. He pushed it off of her, but recoiled in horror.

That wasn’t plastic. That wasn’t metal. That wasn’t… what WAS that? Infiel’s mind whirled. The workstation rubble hadn’t felt like any material. It had barely felt like anything at all, as if he was pushing against solid force with no texture. He stared at his hands in shock. Wisps of something seemed to be floating off into the air before vanishing. He felt his fingers together and felt no pain or anything abnormal, but despite not feeling cold his body shivered.

He got to his feet and held a hand down to Middy, who got up without hassle. They peered through the murky olive air. Sirithil seemed to be helping Pia’Sur to his feet. Ferlswethe had gotten up as well and looked around in a daze. Coa’Ker was staring down at something, probably the form of Fil’Mer. All of the lights seemed to have gone out, but an electric humming somewhere implied that something in the building was still functioning.

Sirithil came over to Infiel and Middy, wisps following her footsteps. “Hey,” she said quietly, “you two okay?”

“I think so…” said Middy as she rubbed her legs. Wisps of green floated off into the mirk.

“I’m fine.” Infiel said simply. “Listen… have you, ah, felt anything yet?”

Sirithil’s face hardened. She said, “Yeah. Ground doesn’t feel like metal. Something isn’t right here at all. Nothing feels right, and this green air is obviously not natural.”
Infiel looked over towards the nearest window and gave a gesture. Sirithil nodded, and the three of them carefully made their way around the rubble towards the edge of the room. Infiel scanned the ground for broken glass but found nothing. Soon he felt that he was close to where the window had been and stood there, gazing out and letting his eyes adjust the murk. He felt the forms of Middy and Sirithil standing next to him.

“I can’t really see out there…” said Middy.

Infiel squinted, his eyes burning as he forced them to adjust to the low light. “Hold on. I think I can se-“ he cut off, mouth open.

“What? What do you… oh,” said Middy.

Though barely visible through the foggy air, another of the Tower Gardens towers could be seen a fair distance away. Or, rather, what remained of the tower. Most of the left half was conspicuously missing and the remainder of the tower was mostly a skeletal outline, as if it was still under construction. The truly bizarre thing about it all is that, the farther down the structure one looked, the less of the tower was visible. The whole thing was a completely impossible structure, top-heavy and unsupported. And the ground…

“Hey,” said Sirithil. “Look at the base of the tower. Where’s the ground?”

Infiel and Middy looked. Sure enough, where there were once fields of well trimmed grass, only the same bizarre structural skeleton of the towers remained. Some very large parts of the ground were completely absent, rimmed by a crumbling-looking substance, opening into holes filled with the same murky green air as everything else, an endless abyss stretching downward into nothing for infinity.

Infiel turned away from the surreal scene, rubbing his aching eyes and wearing a very large frown. “Pia’Sur,” he said amidst rubs, “you and the others may want to take a look outside…”

“I know. We’re looking right now. The Triad Tower Gardens is almost completely destroyed,” came the reply in the darkness. Infiel opened his eyes to see a hunched Pia’Sur being supported by Coa’Ker and Ferlwethe, hand on his darkened leg. Not to bad. I’ll be fine, Infiel thought. Stupid fool Pia’Sur, you can barely walk. Not that it matters… no ground to walk on anyways.

“So, um,” Ferlwethe started with a cough after a few quiet moments, “what the hell?”

“What the hell is right!” said Pia’Sur, not bothering to hide his anger. “What the hell is up with you, pointing a gun at us, leading us into this deathtrap? You knew all along something like this was going to happen, didn’t you?” he roared. Infiel had never heard his friend’s voice so sharp before.

Ferlwethe brushed Pia’Sur’s arm from his shoulder and walked away towards the middle of the lab. Pia’Sur staggered awkwardly on his wounded leg as Coa’Ker struggled to keep him standing.

“Maybe,” said Ferlwethe, almost whimsically. “I didn’t know about this… place, if that’s what you’re accusing me of. But maybe I did know something was wrong. I write computer programs that balance equations. It was pretty obvious to me that something wasn’t balanced.” He turned and pointed at Pia’Sur. “You knew too. You’re a mathematician. You could tell something was wrong. But you let… him,” the scorn here was almost palpable, “talk you out of worrying about it, talk you out of fixing it!”

“If you’re implying,” came Coa’Ker’s voice, smooth as ever, “that I lead you all into a dangerous situation knowingly, I can only say it is completely untrue.”

“Dangerous!” scoffed Ferlwethe, almost laughing. “Dangerous! You didn’t know the danger. You didn’t know the consequences. But you did know something was wrong!” He was yelling now, walking in circles and waving his arms. “Admit it, Coa’Ker! You knew all about the unbalanced equations. You knew about the problems with the smaller scale experiments. The failures that our little circus was based upon! Out with it! Maybe it’s time you told all these people what this little project was supposed to accomplish – our violent, high publicity explosive demise!”

He went down to the door that was supposed to lead to the elevator hallway. The door opened silently, but there was no hallway. No tower beneath them. Just green haze as far as the eye could see. Gesturing to the open door, Ferlwethe exclaimed, “Tell them why you lead them, and our whole world, to their deaths!”

The weight of that open, empty doorway hit the researchers all at once: they really were trapped. There was nowhere to go. This crumbling tower was the end of it. No food, no water, and no reason to want to live even if their biological needs were met. Coa’Ker looked down at the ground and said nothing. He kicked the surface and green sparks floated up, dissipating into nothing.

“I was under the impression,” began Middy slowly, forcing herself to look away from the dark abyss that stood in front of their only way out, “that there were no problems with the earlier experiments. There was nothing in the Society databanks about anything like that. They said everything went like clockwork.”

Infiel said, “Middy, my dear, as much as I love a good time pun, this may not be the right moment. I too heard nothing of complications in the earliest tests and would just love to know what’s so important and why it was kept from us.” Enough crap guys. Out with it was heavily implied behind the words.

Still Coa’Ker was silent.

“Well,” said Ferlwethe, “it would seem he’s not going to tell you. I guess it’s up to me. I don’t know how much you can believe from someone who just pointed a gun at you, but it’s all you’re going to get since your so-called leader has decided to just-“

“The purpose,” Coa’Ker said loudly, cutting off Ferlwethe’s rant in mid stride, “of this experiment was exactly as I told you when you all signed up. We are studying time energy and its affect on material bodies. However,” he paused, biting his lip, “however, part of the Rol/Tar equation for time is incomplete. There is a variable that we… don’t understand. It was our purpose to find and isolate this variable to complete the equation and allow a full-scale investigation into time energy to begin.” Coa’Ker looked drained.

“A missing variable…” Pia’Sur mused. “I hadn’t considered that. I just assumed that one of the known variables was being measured wrong. Hmm hmm, interesting indeed.” Leave it to Pia’Sur to take an academic approach in the face of total despair. He went silent for a few seconds, and then asked, “What sort of problems were there with the earlier experiments?”

“Abrasion issues, so to speak,” Coa’Ker said quietly. “Something to do with the forces between the superdense matter and the time energy. They… clashed in some cases, causing ‘friction’ energy – energy that no one could predict or control. In some cases this happened, in others it did not.”

“And you think this is okay?!” Infiel growled. “You lead us all into this knowing you were doing something wrong.”

“I had no choice,” said Coa’Ker coldly, all the emotion removed from his voice. “Society nondisclosure rules. No one was supposed to know about the flaw in Rol/Tar. That’s why all the reports don’t mention it. The people that will try to fix it know. That doesn’t include us.”

“Hah!” Ferlwethe said. “Unlikely, seeing as we blew up their little tower. But see how he hides behind rules and regulations. Nondisclosure regulations make a sad epitaph to our lives.”

“YOU!” Sirithil said, turning on Ferlwethe “You knew all this, and you held us all at gunpoint until it was completed! What were you trying to do, kill us all?”

Ferlwethe said calmly, “Actually, yes, if you must know. I assumed the unbalanced nature of the experiment combined with the high energy levels would produce some sort of explosion that would destroy the lab.”

“But why?!” asked Middy, exasperated.

Ferlwethe lowered his head and turned his back to everyone again. “My people of Elivia don’t think this whole line of research is proper. Studies are one thing, but disrupting time streams and pulling energy out of the natural order to gather information crosses a line somewhere. Our violent death would show the world just how wrong we were to reach our hands out too far. I volunteered to sabotage the mission and die; turns out all I had to do was keep quiet and let everyone else happily blow us up. Ah well. I’ve lived a good long life. Figured it was worth going out with a bang.” He shrugged.

“You’re an elvish traditionalist,” said Sirithil accusingly. “You’re one of those old-timers. Too caught up in the past to let the present ever change, because it’s too much of a hassle for you to learn anything new. Now I remember why my exile was more of a blessing than a curse. Pathetic.”

Ferlwethe said, “Judge me how you will. You do have to admit: the danger was there. We didn’t do anything to create it. We mettled with things beyond our understanding and we paid the price.”

“Well it would appear that the entire world paid the price, not just us. Or maybe you haven’t looked outside,” said Infiel quietly.

Sirithil shook her head at this idea. She said, “No. Destroyed the world? Does this room look like the one we left? We’re in a room that is the same shape as the lab, but where are the chairs? Where’s the broken glass? Where are the…” she trailed off. “… something’s humming. Could it be?”

She walked quickly towards the center of the room, towards the depression. Everyone else followed. Even by the pit itself the humming was only barely audible, but sure enough, the bottom of the pit was completely black.

“The stasis field generators,” Pia’Sur said, smiling. “They’re still running. It looks like our experiment succeeded.” Five pairs of eyes drilled into him. “You know what I mean…” he said meekly, hobbling away.

“Okay,” Infiel said, turning back towards the landscapes outside. “To sum up, Ferlwethe tried to kill us all for political reasons and Coa’Ker almost let him do it because of Society regulations. You both suck, just so you know. Seriously.” He paused for dramatic effect. Ferlwethe looked unconcerned with the judgment, but Coa’Ker appeared deeply troubled. “Anyway, accusations won’t get us out of here. So what are we going to do? Where is here, anyway?”

“Well, we have the ‘we destroyed the world’ theory,” Pia’Sur said. “But I’m staring to agree with Sirithil. A massive explosion doesn’t explain standing skeletal towers and huge holes of nothing in the ground, not to mention our own survival.”

“Could we have upset the balance of space/time so much that we changed the rules, and now things float in midair and there is all this weird haze?” Middy asked. Everyone else stared at her blankly. “I dunno… just sounds like something I read in a science fiction book one time.”

“Well… I guess that’s a theory,” said Sirithil. “But it’s pretty far fetched.”

“We should apply Roc’Cam’s Razor here,” Pia’Sur said, sounding very scholarly. ‘Given the same amount of evidence, the simpler theory is likely to be true.’ Our evidence is what we see outside, and our own survival.”

“Wait,” said Sirithil. “What makes us so sure we’re still alive? Maybe this is the afterlife?”

Ferlwethe snorted. “An afterlife with you people? I never thought I had lived such a bad life to be sent straight to an eternal punishment.”

“I knew I should have listened to those Soloralist preachers the other day…” Infiel mumbled under his breath.

“If we are, in fact, dead, there isn’t much we can do about it,” said Coa’Ker. “We’d be at the mercy of the gods. So let’s assume we are still alive and that thinking about this rationally can somehow aid us.”

Pia’Sur said, “Back to Roc’Cam’s Razor. What theories could be simpler than us altering the basics of time/space? Basically anything really…”

“Multiplanar theories,” Infiel said suddenly. “We’re not on Micras. We were trying to pull time energy into our world. Maybe we opened a portal to the plane of time!”

“Ahhh, that does sound reasonable,” Coa’Ker said, his eyes shining.

Middy looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know… I thought the plane of time was supposed to be neutral, continuous, not like this. This place is chilly and uninviting. I don’t like it here at all.” She looked around the open room.

Sirithil nodded agreement. “This is not the plane of time. The girl is right. There isn’t an evil force here, but something… menacing, in a way. Some dark power that wants us to know we aren’t welcome here. Everything feels… “ she ran her hand over part of the wall. “Like… nothing.”

“That’s it. That’s the word I was looking for. Nothing,” said Pia’Sur. “This whole place is empty. It’s a void full of decaying relics, and I don’t mean just Ferlwethe over there.” The elf ignored the insult. “But I’ve learned a bit about the multiplanar theories, and I’ve never heard of anything like this… emptiness.”

No one had anything to say to that. The group lapsed into silence, each member trying to come to terms with their thoughts.


Coa’Ker pondered the nature of time/space and where their location might fit into it. He had never been much of a fan of the multiplaner theories, but the destruction of Micras seemed too impossible to comprehend. Something must have happened and happened in some sort of controlled fashion; otherwise the explosion would have killed them for certain. Coa’Ker desperately tried to avoid considering that the entire situation was somehow his fault, though after picking apart the lies of so many others he could not fool himself easily.

Pia’Sur had been puzzling over the missing variable in the Rol/Tar equations with no concrete ideas. The realization that the equations were indeed flawed came as a pressed on him with unpleasant relief and the fact that Coa’Ker had been deliberately misleading him weighed heavier. Pia’Sur hated when science and the quest for truth was tainted by politics. The missing variable in the equations that occasionally, but not always, caused troubles seemed like something he could figure out, but the ghastly green air of the destroyed tower just wasn’t letting him think clearly. The pain from his leg didn’t help much either.

Sirithil bitterly concocted terrible fates in her mind for the elves of Elvia that she was ashamed to call distant cousins. Her own exile had been a similar argument; progress for the future vs. stability of the present. Only this time it wasn’t merely a philosophical debate in tall towers. Real people, herself perhaps included, were dying over this issue. If Sirithil ever found a way out of this, one of the first things she vowed to do would be expose those lying manipulative snakes for what they truly were.

Ferlwethe questioned his elvish values and his recent course of action. He could almost feel the eyes and mind of Sirithil glaring down upon him. In this darkened and terrible place he began to wonder if whatever horrible end she was planning for him was justified. Dying for political reasons to change the world had sounded a lot better when he had come up with his plan. Ferlwethe never even considered that he might actually survive the incident. Having to stare down all the people he just tried to murder was not an easy task.

Middy desperately tried to avoid thinking about her two cats that she would never see again. Everyone had been trying to console her and tell her things would be okay. She may not have been an engineer but it didn’t take a genius to see that they had no way out of the tower and nowhere to go. Signing up for the Society of World Improvement as an archivist had seemed like a decent way to get connections in the academic world without a formal education. None of that seemed to matter any more.

Infiel idly tried to think of more time clichés, but realized he wasn’t in the mood, and put his head down on the strange ground to try to sleep, but that wasn’t really working either. Infiel liked to consider himself a good guy to have around in a tight spot and definitely the life of the party, but he always had trouble with the downtime. With the Temporal Relocator project and the entire outcry that had surrounded it, the Society had been fun to follow around, but one thing had ceased to lead to another in a hurry. Now all that was left was to sit around and contemplate life and one’s failures and deep mysteries of the universe. Not exactly how Infiel wanted to go. Eventually he could take it no longer and started pacing.

Fil’Mel didn't think of anything - he was very dead.


“So, um. I’m kind of hungry. But we’re stuck in this tower. Anyone have any ideas on what we’re going to do here?” The words Infiel spoke seemed float in the foggy air. As if waking from dreams, his companions looked at him lazily.

Finally, Sirithil said, “Well I’m sure we’re all open to suggestions, if you have any.”

“What about the Relocator?” Infiel said as he peered into the pit.

Pia’Sur said, “What about it?”

“Well,” Infiel said, “it got us into this mess. And it’s the only thing we have here. Hell, it seems to still be plugged in somehow. Maybe we can do something with it? Use it to get out of here?”

Middy blinked. “Can it do that?” she asked.

“Hmm,” Coa’Ker mused. “Pia’Sur, your thoughts?”

Pia’Sur frowned and said, “Since we don’t know what exactly happened it will be difficult to do it again.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “Though, I guess since the machine didn’t work the first time it may do the same thing again. I don’t know. It’s worth a shot. Not like we have a whole lot else here.”

Infiel and Ferlwethe poked at some wires around the remnants of the computer station. “Even though the cables feel strange like everything else here, it looks like the power is still functioning,” Infiel announced.

Sirithil asked, “How is that even possible? The rest of the tower is just…”she trailed off.

“The lights were off of Ptia central city power, but the labs themselves have independent generators. It looks like ours still works,” Ferlwethe explained.

“I’m not so sure I like the idea of Ferlwethe working on that computer,” Sirithil said, glaring. “He might just decide to shut it all down for good and finish the job of killing us.”

Ferlwethe wasn’t about to back down. “It’s a shame that I couldn’t have at least taken you out and silenced you forever. But now I’m still alive and have my own hide to worry about. Besides, if there is a Micras to get back to, they probably think we’re dead already. Mission complete.”

“HEY!” Infiel yelled out before the fight could intensify. “If Ferl here is going to help me get you guys out of here, that’s fine enough for me, for now. So if you’d all just shut up we’ll be getting back to work.”

Sirithil scowled and paced away angrily. Uneasy minutes passed as Infiel and Ferlwethe worked on the wiring.

Sirithil stared out at another of the ruined towers, resting her arms on what was once a windowsill. She squinted. It seemed smaller somehow. No, not smaller. Just less of it there. Even more of the tower seems to have vanished. Frowning, she turned around to say something to the others and noticed the green wisps floating of her hands, just as they had every time she had touched some of the strange material that seemed to compose this world.

The elf bent down to get a better look at where her hands had been resting. Sure enough, the outline of her fingers was clearly visible as an imprint in the windowsill, as if it was made out of clay. Even as she watched the imprints seemed to grow deeper as more insubstantial bits of green light floated off and vanished.

Alarmed, she whipped around and sized up the room on the whole. The skylight was massively larger than it was when the arrived. Many of the support pillars that had been between the windows had vanished entirely. Even the doorway that Ferlwethe had all drawn their attention to was beginning to erode.

The entire tower is vanishing from under us, her mind screamed. Why hasn’t anyone else noticed?

“Hey Coa’Ker, a minute?” she asked, approaching him.

“Mmm?” he murmured, opening his eyes.

How could he sleep at a time like this, in a place like… Sirithil thought until the terrible truth hit her. It’s draining us our energy just as it’s eroding the tower.

“Hey everyone. Get up, come on. We need to stay focused here.” Sirithil said with forced enthusiasm.

“Focused on what? Nothing’s going on.” Middy said with a yawn. “Feels like nothing ever happens here.”

Before Sirithil could respond to that Pia’Sur let out a scream and sank to the ground. Everyone clustered around him, frantic.

‘What’s wrong? What’s the matter?” Coa’Ker asked over the din.

“My leg… my wounded leg,” sputtered Pia’Sur. “It just went right through the floor.”

“What? How?” asked Infiel as he hoisted Pia’Sur up.

“The tower is falling apart. All these wisps when we walk and touch stuff… that’s part of the tower just vanishing into thin air,” Sirithil explained.

All eyes centered on her. “And you weren’t going to tell us?” asked Coa’Ker.

Sirithil said, “I just noticed it myself a second ago. That’s not all though. This place is why you’re acting so tired.”

“It’s like a void… draining the tower of its substance and us of our energy…” mused Pia’Sur.

“Ah. Um,” Middy said, clearly terrified despite her tiredness.

Infiel grimaced. “I guess we’re running out of time. I have good news, bad news, and weird news though. The good news is that the computer is still running the stasis field generators. The bad news is that the computer itself is totally shot so we can’t see what’s inside or how long it’s going to run.”

“And the weird news?” Coa’Ker asked.

Infiel scratched his arm awkwardly. “The weird news is that Ferlwethe and I agree - we have no idea how the heck the computer is still running. Some of the cables were fried when everything happened before. And the power source is… well, as nonexistent as the rest of the tower. By all means it shouldn’t be still working, but it is.”

“So… what does that mean?” Middy asked.

Ferlwethe said, “It means we can’t do anything with it. All we can-“ He abruptly cut out when his left foot went through the ground. Infield steadied him as he pulled it out. “All we can do is turn it off, and when we do, we’ll probably never get it back on,” he finished, getting back to his feet.

Coa’Ker said, “Everyone keep moving. Don’t stay in one place for too long. Pia’Sur, here, let me help you up.”

Everyone started pacing around the tower. “And what exactly is the point of this?” murmured Sirithil. “Are we going to walk ourselves to death? Sooner or later we’ll need to stop.”

“Every second we’re still alive is a chance we’ll get out of this,” Coa’Ker responded, though his breathing was labored under having to support most of Pia’Sur’s weight.

“Guys, I’m exhausted here.” Middy said as she plodded along with her shoulders down.

Infiel said, “Eventually we’re going to have to crack open the stasis field and hope for the best.”

“What would that do?” asked Sirithil.

“Probably nothing,” Pia’Sur said, his voice ragged.


Middy stopped and pointed off into the distance. “Hey guys, what’s that?” she asked suddenly.

Infiel squinted in the direction she had pointed. Some blur was out there and seemed to be moving.

“Keep moving!” Coa’Ker exclaimed. Reluctantly everyone continued to pace around the tower though their eyes were fixed on the mysterious object.

“Is it alive? Could something live in a place like this?” Middy asked.

Sirithil said, “I doubt anything that lives here could be friendly.

“It’s getting closer,” Pia’Sur remarked. “Errr, it’s coming right at us now.”

Sure enough, the object had turned off course and seemed to be making a beeline for the tower, approaching quickly. As it drew near it became painfully obvious that this was not a single entity, but a swarm of smaller, somewhat humanoid creatures moving together. At the distance most features were difficult to make out except for two large claws in place of wings or arms and some sort of tail instead of legs.

Panic began to spread on the tower. “Doesn’t take an empath to guess those aren’t friendly,” said Coa’Ker as he helped Pia’Sur down. “Get ready for an attack!”

“Are you crazy? We’re engineers!” Pia’Sur protested. “And I definitely can’t cast magic in this condition.”

Sirithil yelled, “We have no choice!”

Infiel scowled at the skies. “What a day to leave my doomsday cannon at home. Where are those guns we had Ferl?” he grumbled as he scoured the floor.

“Haven’t seen ‘em, but I haven’t really looked.” Ferlwethe replied as he searched.

“Do you really have a doomsday cannon?” Middy asked.

“No,” said Infiel. “Help me find the guns!”

“Got ‘em!” Sirithil announced from across the room. She ran over and gave them both to Infiel.

“You won’t try anything if I give this to you, will you?” Infiel asked Ferlwethe.

The elf made a face. “Don’t be insane. I want to get out of this alive too.” Infiel tossed him the gun.

“Incomings getting closer,” Pia’Sur announced.

Everyone clustered around him. “So what’s the plan here?” Infiel asked.

“We’ll make our stand here, by the pit. Pia’Sur and Middy in the center. Siri and I have magic. You two have the guns, but don’t waste your ammo. If things get bad, we all dive into the pit itself to bottleneck them and try to take them out from below.” Coa’Ker announced.

“Into the pit? Will the equipment hold us” asked Middy.

“The stasis shield will hold a million times our weight,” Ferlwethe replied. “We can stand on it just fine.”

“How do we even know they’re hostile?” Pia’Sur asked.

Coa’Ker shook his head. “Trust me, they’re out for us. I can feel their hatred from here.”

Infiel frowned. “Am I the only one that finds us fighting in this situation sort of ridiculous? I mean, we lose, we die from those guys. We win, we die when the tower vanishes under us! Sucks.”

Pia’Sur gave a bitter laugh from the ground. “The thought occurred to me as well, my friend. But what else are we supposed to do?”

“Focus!” called Coa’Ker in a commanding voice. The creatures were almost upon them and a line advanced on the group. “Siri and I will try to break their lines. You guys pick off the survivors once we have them scattered. You ready Sirithil?”

“Always, honey,” she replied, her hands crackling with magical power.

From the creatures came a cackling noise, a mockery of language that seemed to press down on the frightened group. Yet like a statue Coa’Ker pointed his arm forward at the fiends, and in Infiel’s mind the calm, if somewhat quirky scientist was replaced by a battle-hardened commander. Whether it was by some trick of the empath’s mental abilties or he was just seeing the man in a new light was hard to say.

“FIRE!” came the order at last.


Infiel and Ferlwethe hesitated as was the plan, but Sirithil wasted no time bringing the fight to the monsters. She let loose her chain lightning spell, the spell she was known for all over Micras and for good reason. The first of the creatures took the blast head on and seemed to be in considerable distress. But the truly powerful part was how it arched to another creature, delivering another powerful but less lethal shock and arching again. Several of the attacking creatures seemed badly shaken up.

Coa’Ker’s opening attack was less flashy but no less potent. The dark green air seemed to ripple as he bent the power of his psychic mind upon the hostile creatures. For a few seconds they continued their direct path for the empath, but soon they began to waver. Cuts as if created from invisible blades appeared on their flesh and they chirped in pain.

Still they came forward. Infiel and Ferlwethe joined in the attack with their Mai’Lor Laser Sidearms. Though mostly intended for police duty, their bolts still had killing force when turned up to higher energies. Sirithil joined in with several firebolts and Coa’Ker smashed one to the ground with his mind. Several of the creatures fled; the rest of the ones that assaulted them lay dead around the tower. But a good number remained out of range.

Sirithil seemed angry. “They’re a lot tougher than I thought! I’m exhausting my magic quickly,” she shouted.

“Look out! Seems they’ve got reinforcements A lot more coming in!” Pia’Sur yelled from the ground.

Coa’Ker was scanning the skies. “I see them. They’re trying to surround us.”

“Just trying to be helpful from down here…” Pia’Sur muttered. He shifted his balance after his foot poked another hole in the floor.

Again the creatures attacked and again the mortals fought back. The air crackled with magic and energy bolts. More and more seemed to be attracted to the battle at the tower.

“Infiel!” Middy yelled.

Three were coming in from behind. Coa’Ker focused on creating an energy barrier but, in his weakened state, the monsters broke through.

“Break! Look out!” yelled Coa’Ker as he dove out of the way. The rest of the team followed suit. Except for Pia’Sur. To Infiel, even in the din of crackling magic and the terrible
sounds of the creatures his old friend’s death screams rang out like a bell as half a dozen monsters piled on.

STARS DAMN IT! The sheer amount of adrenaline from being in a deadly situation was the only thing that kept Infiel from collapsing to his feet in sorrow. He surveyed the scene. All resemblance of a defensive position was lost; the monsters were overrunning and had isolated the defenders.

Infiel spotted Coa’Ker fighting against overwhelming odds to protect Middy. Laser gun singing he began to carve a path towards the two, only to see Coa’Ker’s strength finally fail and them both to vanish beneath a pile of inhuman bodies.

This can’t be happening…

Still Infiel fought on, his mind desensitized towards the mindless death. Ferlwethe and Sirithil were fighting back-to-back. Infiel began to move towards them when a creature clawed at his leg. He lost his balance and fell into the pit, landing hard on the black dome of the stasis field. A second later the beaten form of Sirithil jumped down next to him. Lightning and laser fire lanced upward and felled three pursuers, but Infiel knew his ammo was running low.

“Ferlwethe?” he yelled over the fight.

Sirithil shook her head “Dead. The others are gone too?”

“Yeah.” Infiel found himself shouting back. Though true, he still could not believe it.

Sirithil shouted, “Break the stasis field! The time energy is our only hope!”

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t! The wires are fried but it’s still on!”

Sirithil pointed to the wall. “Manual release lever! Hit it!”

And sure enough, a level marked “Manual Power Release” was on the side of the pit, within Infiel’s arm reach.

His gun was almost empty.
Sirithl’s magic was surely depleted.
Their friends were dead.
Three monsters were overcoming their shyness and descending into the pit.
Even if they killed the monsters, the tower was vanishing around them anyway and there was no escape.

“Ahhh… what the hell.” Infiel muttered as he threw the switch.

Instantly the black surface disappeared, and Infiel found his body being caught in the immense gravitational field of the superdense matter and the releasing time energy. A bright flash forced his eyes shut and all feeling in his body ceased.

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