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Authors: Gene Curtis

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BOOK: Eighth Fire
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Mr. Young asked, “What makes you believe
that?”

Nick went to his desk, opened the book to the
marked page and handed it to Mr. Young. “This machine matches the
description perfectly.”

Mr. Young held the book so the three of them
could read. Occasionally they glanced at the model and when they
were finished reading Mrs. Shadowitz asked, “Have you identified
the type of crystal he used?”

“It’s a silicate with some rare-earth doping. So
far I’ve only been able to detect terbium and thulium, but I think
there has to be more.”

“He wouldn’t have been able to produce this
crystal with the technology of his age.” Mr. Young leaned down for
a closer look at the blue-brown crystal. “And in all my travels
I’ve never seen or heard of anything like it. Do you have any idea
how or where he acquired it?”

“No sir, but it’s likely we’ll be able to
reproduce it once we completely analyze it.”

Mrs. Shadowitz went to Nick’s desk, picked up
the phone and punched three digits. “Johan, would you come to lab
room three-sixteen?”

She put the phone down and asked Nick, “How long
before you can have a working machine?”

A working machine? He’d just begun studying the
model and only had a rudimentary understanding of how it worked.
Scaling it up to a full size operational machine was likely to
cause some serious problems. And the model didn’t even work like it
was supposed to according to the novel. It didn’t stay in one
geographic location while it moved through time. While tinkering
with it before he realized what it was it disappeared off the
workbench when the tiny spring-loaded gear moved just one tooth. He
thought he’d lost it for good only to find it the next day on the
school grounds more than six miles away from the Engineering
building. It had obviously fallen from some height, but its
lightweight construction had kept it from being too badly
damaged.

“I don’t know ma’am. There’s a lot I don’t
understand yet. Even with a team of engineers working on it, it
could take months or even years to understand it well enough to
make a working full-scale version.”

“I want you to start working on it right
away.”

“Why is it so important? I mean, I know it’s
important, but why is it important to do it right away? After it’s
built, we’ll have all the time we need.”

Mrs. Shadowitz shook her head. “Benrah is not an
idiot. It’s just a matter of time before he realizes he’s been
duped and when he does, look out.”

“But I thought destiny was fixed. This was
supposed to happen. There’s nothing he can do to change it.”

“Destiny is fixed, but not all eventualities are
destined.”

“So Benrah can win?”

“Many paths lead to his destiny, not all of
which need be traveled. A good number of those paths, by his deeds,
lead to too much suffering and loss along the way for many. Our job
as Magi is to minimize that where we can by diligently working to
prevent his designs.

“He designs to prevent us from gaining knowledge
from the sunstone, whatever that knowledge may be. It is therefore
imperative we gain that knowledge as soon as possible. We need to
acquire the power source. This time machine is the best way I can
see to do that.”

Mr. Müeller opened the door and walked in. He
addressed Mrs. Shadowitz. “Ma’am, you wanted to see me?”

She turned from Nick and walked to the bench.
“It seems young Mr. Poparov here has discovered a model time
machine.” She pointed at the small machine with her hand, palm up.
“It is vital we have a full-scale working machine ASAP. I want you
to assign teams to work around the clock on this project and since
Mr. Poparov is the most familiar with the workings of this device,
he will function as project lead.”

She turned back to Nick. “Mr. Poparov, I want
daily progress reports delivered to me personally by two in the
afternoon.”

Mr. Müeller went to the bench and bent to
examine the device. “Amazing. This looks rather like the model
George described in his book.”

Nick asked, “Who’s George? Which book?”

“George Wells, surely you’ve
at least heard of him:
The Invisible
Man
,
The Island
of Dr. Moreau
,
War of the Worlds
,
The Time Machine
.”

“You mean H. G. Wells.” Nick pointed to the book
Mr. Young was still holding.

“That’s him, only I knew him as George because
that’s what my grandfather called him. H. G. was what the
public-at-large knew him by, but his friends knew him as
George.”

Mrs. Shadowitz interrupted, “Perhaps you might
know where he obtained this crystal?” She pointed at a small bar
toward the back of the model.

Mr. Müeller glanced up at her and then went back
to examining the model. “No ma’am. I was young at the time and
never imagined his books were anything but fiction. I did get to
meet him a few times though since my family lived in Kent while I
was at The Fourth Mountain. I never had an inkling that he was
anything but a teacher and a writer. There was nothing about him
that indicated he might be the least bit mechanically
inclined.”

Nick said, “Careful, don’t touch the levers. We
might not be able to find it next time.”

Mr. Mueller straightened, nodded at Nick
thoughtfully and crossed to the phone. After dialing he said, “Have
Whittaker, Allyn and Bacon report to lab three-sixteen, and have
them pick up a locater on the way...No, the miniature kind.”

“Mrs. Shadowitz,” Nick walked up to her. “I
don’t know if it’s important or not, but with how weird everything
is, I was just thinking. Mark says he has a strange feeling about
the Magi cemetery. He says he hasn’t dreamed about it but every
time he’s been there he gets a strange feeling like he has dreamt
about it.”

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Box

Joseph Young was the last of the three to exit
the cemetery’s memorial shrine. Mrs. Shadowitz and Mr. Diefenderfer
looked at him questioningly. He shook his head and said, “No
indication of anything that might be even remotely related to the
sunstone.”

Mrs. Shadowitz turned toward the cemetery and
said, “We didn’t find anything here either. We need to examine the
tombstones individually.”

Six hours later Mr. Diefenderfer discovered an
unnumbered and un-scribed stone marker. Its single distinguishing
feature was a small inlaid Fairystone cross. He called the others
over.

 

 

The sun was just beginning to
set when Mr.
Müeller
arrived at the
excavated grave. He was excited to see the ancient box. “We need to
get this to the research team right away.”

“We’re going to keep this secret. No one besides
the four of us is to know anything about this.” Mrs. Shadowitz
handed him a shovel. “How about helping us fill this hole back
in?”

He took the shovel and began tossing dirt back
into the hole. “Secret? What on Earth for?”

Mr. Young joined in tossing dirt back into the
hole. “We have an unknown traitor among us. This find is too
important to risk before we have a chance to examine it.”

“Traitor? Surely not.”

“My good friend...it is true. Benrah has
evidenced...that he knows...far more...than he could...possibly
know otherwise...about happenings here. He couldn’t know more...if
he were...a student here.”

Mr.
Müeller continued
to look shocked. “You suspect a student?”

Mrs. Shadowitz answered, “We’re looking into all
possibilities, but to our knowledge no undergraduate student has
had access to the amount and nature of the information that has
been leaked.” She pointed toward the box lying on the ground. “This
discovery will remain secret for the time being.”

 

 

On first glance the missive in the box, written
on leather parchment, appeared to be in some ancient language. When
Mr. Young picked it up the writing became legible and it was in his
own hand.

This is a decoy for anyone that may have
followed us. The power source is coming. Wait for it.

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

Classes

For first level sophomores classes started
earlier and ended earlier than last year. Mondays, Wednesdays and
Fridays had Communications class from five in the morning until
nine in the morning followed by a two hour break until Combat class
started. Tuesdays and Thursdays held various other classes
including elective classes. These classes started and ended at
various times depending on the schedule the instructor set.
Chenoa’s Aviation class started at one in the afternoon on Tuesdays
for ground school and at sunrise for flight school on Thursdays.
Mark and LeOmi had Beginning Rescue on Tuesday at one in the
afternoon and Advanced Communications starting at nine in the
morning on both Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Communications for first level sophomores was
the only class that started this early in the entire school, zero
dark thirty as his dad might have said. Students sprawled on the
couches yawning, stretching and obviously wishing they were back in
their beds. Mark was no exception. Even the two dozen hooded
instructors didn’t seem fully awake.

Mr. Fairbanks walked briskly into the classroom,
stepped onto the dais and began writing on the chalkboard. It was
hard of Mark to think of his teacher as Mr. Fairbanks since last
year he was just Tim, his counselor.

 

Last Year:
From my secret acts of kindness my power is
derived.

This Year:
Acts of kindness must be for what the person actually
needs.

 

“Last year you were instructed to write at the
top of every page in your notebooks something to the effect that
your power as a Magi is derived from your secret acts of kindness.
This year you will write something like this.” He tapped the chalk
under the second sentence. “Failing to do so as soon as you turn
the page will get you sent back to be a freshman; not only for this
course but for every course.”

Mr. Fairbanks looked around the class and saw
that everyone was writing on the top of the first page in their
notebooks. When everyone had finished he said, “Discerning what a
person actually needs is hit and miss at best without the ability
for your minds and your spirit to communicate between themselves
and between other minds and spirits.

“This year you will learn the principles and
implementation of Spirit Sight, Dream Casting and Tactical Sight.
These abilities are likely to be the tools you will use the most
throughout the rest of your life. Some of you will become so good
at it that you will not be able to tell the difference between
Spirit Sight and physical sight. Spirit Sight will be taught on
Mondays.” He pointed to a large overhead loft in the back of the
class. “On Monday mornings you will be expected to be just waking
up in that loft when class starts.

“Wednesdays will be devoted to Dream Casting and
Fridays will be devoted to Tactical Sight; both of which are
directly related to Spirit Sight. There is no requirement to wake
up in the loft on Wednesdays or Fridays, but you’re certainly
welcome to if you choose.

“You may have heard something about the old
techniques used to teach Spirit Sight. Forget what you heard. This
year I will start using the new teaching method developed at the
Fifth Mountain for Australian students. They have had better
success with it than the traditional methods and have shown that it
can reduce the time for developing rudimentary skills from about
six months down to six weeks and in a few cases down to two weeks.
That means that we can devote more time and effort to developing
this skill into something a bit more useful. So, let us get
started. Lights please.”

BOOK: Eighth Fire
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