Sufficiently Advanced Technology (Inverse Shadows) (34 page)

Master Faye appeared in the door to his study, staring at Dacron. “How... how did you escape?”

Dacron smiled. Naturally, no one on Darius could have broken his own wrists to powder just to get out of a trap. Unless someone had remarkable pain resistance spells, ones that didn’t numb the mind as well as the body... he shook his head as he faced Master Faye. The Pillar looked badly shocked, one hand half-raised in a defensive posture, the other by his side, as if he were having problems coming to terms with the fact that Dacron was a very real threat. To him, Dacron had only spent a
day
learning magic.

“I used magic,” Dacron said. It might as well have
been
magic, as far as the locals were concerned. Sufficiently advanced technology was indistinguishable from magic. “For all of your power, you do not really understand what you do when you work magic. We were able to deduce it.”

Master Faye glared at him, but he didn’t attack. Of course he wouldn’t, Dacron realised; he believed that Dacron had broken out through using his own magic, an impossible feat for a normal magician. And it certainly
looked
as though he hadn’t broken his own bones to escape.

“You cannot do this,” Master Faye said. He sounded dazed, so dazed that Dacron was unsure to whom he was talking. Dacron... or the hidden force behind magic. “You’ll destroy the stability of the world.”

Dacron held out a hand, fighting down the purely human impulse to tear Master Faye limb from limb. “You can work with us,” he said, flatly. “We don’t need to fight.”

He sensed the wave of magic a moment before it manifested, a sheet of fire that lashed out and raged against his protective bubble. Dacron watched it dispassionately as Master Faye barked a set of words, striking his wards time and time again. But there was nothing subtle in what he was doing, no attempt to hack his way past Dacron’s protections. He was just trying to batter them down through brute force.

It said interesting things about the source of magic, Dacron decided, as he took a step forward into the raging firestorm. If it had been as smart as even the first AIs, it would have been able to realise that refusing to accept Dacron’s commands would have left him helpless and vulnerable. Instead, it seemed more inclined to work with the bigger picture, even if that meant that the smaller details were often ignored. But perhaps it was attempting to minimise its own involvement, for fear that it would be detected. Manipulation was never so effective if the intended target knew what was being attempted.

Master Faye lifted his voice in a chant, summoning waves of energy out of nowhere to slam against Dacron’s shields – and then lash into the floor. It crumbled under Dacron’s feet, threatening to send him plummeting down, just before he jumped forward and crashed against Master Faye’s own wards, shoving the magician falling back into his study. Master Faye stumbled backwards, his eyes wide with fear and hatred, and scooped a stone knife off his desk. It plunged into Dacron’s protections and sliced through them, opening a gap for Master Faye to exploit.

Dacron cancelled his protections and watched the knife fall to the ground, conjuring a second set of wards before Master Faye could finish his killing spell. No human could have shaped the thought so precisely. He saw a brilliant flash of green light strike his shields and rebound off it, slamming into Master Faye. The magician fell backwards and hit the ground hard enough to shake the building. Dacron stepped forward and checked his pulse, keeping one hand on his throat just in case. There was no need to fear. Master Faye was very definitely dead. A quick check revealed no obvious cause of death.

Standing up, Dacron walked over to the bookshelves and scooped up the books, carrying them in his arms as he left the room. Outside, the building was starting to shake; magic had held it together and those spells were falling apart with the death of their creator. Dacron jumped down through the hole created by the fight and headed for the door. Just before he could leave, he heard the sound of sobbing. Master Faye’s servants were no longer bound by control spells.

“Take what you want and leave the building,” Dacron advised. Normally, there would be a new Pillar to lay claim to Master Faye’s wealth and property, but
he
didn’t intend to rule. The servants could take all the money they wanted, if they liked. “And then I suggest just letting it collapse.”

He walked outside and headed towards the building Master Faye had assigned to them. It wasn’t a long walk through the city, even though he was carrying the books. People glanced at him in alarm – they hadn’t realised what had happened to Master Faye, at least not yet – but gave him a wide berth. He rounded the corner to see a pile of rubble where the building had been. The City Guardsmen were laying out the bodies with practised ease. Dacron watched, unable to believe his eyes, as he realised that Master Faye had butchered his own servants too. What had
they
done to upset him?

And what had he done to the building while Dacron had been stunned?

A handful of guardsmen noticed him and he tensed, but they did nothing. Maybe they hadn’t known that Master Faye had blown up the building, or maybe they’d realised that Dacron had killed their Pillar and that meant he was too powerful to be touched by the law. Absurdly, Dacron wondered if he was
expected
to take Master Faye’s place, before he pushed the thought aside. He had other priorities right now, starting with finding out if anyone else was still alive. What if Master Faye had been able to touch the
Hamilton
?

It should have been impossible. But too much about Darius was impossible.

Shaking his head, he walked away and started to head back to the market. He had to find the bookseller, because there was nothing else he could do. No matter how hard he tried to use his implants, they refused to work. He was completely cut off from the
Hamilton
, assuming that the ship was still intact...

... And, as far as he knew, he was completely alone.

CHAPTER
T
WENTY-
E
IGHT

The market seemed to be in disarray when Dacron entered, with shoppers exchanging nervous whispers while stocking up on food and drink. Several people looked at him and headed away from him at speed, while a number of stalls promptly pulled down their shutters and closed for the day. Dacron would have found it depressing if he hadn’t had too much else to worry about; the weight of the books was making him stagger and yet he didn’t dare put them down. He’d just have to hope that the bookseller would be able to help him.

He stumbled up to the cart and tapped on the door. There was a long pause and then it opened, inviting him inside. The bookseller was lying on the floor, quivering in pain, his hands clutching the side of his head. It was difficult to tell, but the magic in the cart seemed to be twisting somehow, as if it was adapting to a new reality. A world without Master Faye.

Dacron put the books on the nearest stool and knelt down beside the bookseller, reaching out to take his pulse. He seemed to be having a fit of some kind, something that Confederation technology could have cured... and magic wouldn’t be able to cure. Dacron hesitated, unsure of what to do, just as the bookseller gave one final jerk and looked upwards.

“What...” He broke off and coughed violently, sweat running down his face. “What happened?”

“You were having a fit,” Dacron said, carefully. It couldn’t be a coincidence; the Pillar had died at the same time as the nearest magician – the nearest native magician – had had a fit. Master Faye’s death would have sent shockwaves through the magical ether. “Do you know what happened?”

“Only through legends,” the bookseller said. “A Pillar is such a fixture in the local magic field that his death affects everyone with even a hint of magical sensitivity. His apprentice may be dead by now.”

Dacron shrugged. Young Joshua had been meant to return to the planet’s surface to carry out more experiments, but who knew what might have happened while he’d been stunned? Maybe he was still in orbit, safe and well, or maybe he’d been at the base when – if – it had been attacked. There was no way to know.

“I see,” Dacron said, instead. “What happens now?”

The bookseller gave him an odd look. “What happened to you?”

Dacron explained, starting with his capture and ending with the death of Master Faye. “He didn’t seem like himself at all,” he concluded. “I think something else was influencing him.”

He paused. “It is possible that the madness your records speak of was caused by the same entity,” he added. “Darius lost a great deal of technology very quickly. Even if your founders intended to create a low-tech culture, there should still be traces of your colony ship and early technology. Instead, it all seems to be missing.”

The bookseller rubbed his head. “You killed Master Faye,” he said, grimly. “Do you know what this means for Warlock’s Bane? The city is completely unprotected!”

Dacron frowned, puzzled. “I thought you wanted to overcome the endless struggling between magicians,” he said. “You might have a chance to create a city without a Pillar...”

“Except that any Scion who fancies a city can just walk right in, right now,” the bookseller snapped. “There wouldn’t even be a fight for the city. He could just take over and start issuing orders. It isn’t what we wanted.”

“I see,” Dacron said, after a moment. Was it
their
problem? A moment’s thought suggested that it was; he’d killed Master Faye, upsetting the local balance of power. The Confederation had caused the problem, so it had a certain responsibility to
fix
the problem. “What do we do about it?”

The bookseller snorted. “Declare yourself the new Pillar,” he said. “You killed the last one, so that makes you the new Pillar by right.”

Dacron shook his head. “I can’t do that,” he said. It might suit the research program to end up with one of their own in a position of power, but he wasn’t
designed
to rule humans. “What
else
can we do?”

“There isn’t anything else,” the bookseller said. “Without a Pillar, every Scion in the area will come and try his luck. And everyone with the money to leave will go elsewhere, because without a Pillar there will be no true stability. Warlock’s Bane will fade away into nothingness.”

“We can deal with it later,” Dacron said. “I have to go back to the base, to see what survived. Beside, Master Faye’s allies might attack me...”

“Depends on who he recruited to serve as allies,” the bookseller pointed out. He held up a hand. “Look, this city needs you, right now. I can go find your people; you have to save the population. Because if Scions start uncontrolled fighting over who gets the city, they’ll reduce it to rubble.”

Dacron scowled. “I will inform the city that there is a new Pillar,” he said. At least he had Master Faye’s collection of books. The money wasn’t a great concern to a Confederation citizen. “And then we go to the base. We have to know what happened to the people there.”

“Understood,” the bookseller said. He stood up, rubbing the side of his head. “I’ll take you to face your loyal subjects.”

***

A sane human society would have greeted the arrival of the person who had killed their previous leader with a degree of concern, Dacron was sure. Very few societies allowed promotion through assassination, if only because it was hardly conducive to long-term stability – as Darius amply demonstrated. Warlock’s Bane had a council, appointed by Master Faye, and they greeted his arrival with obvious relief. They’d known, even if he hadn’t, the implications of Master Faye’s death.

The whole concept revolted him. Among the Confederation, issues were settled by democratic vote; the AIs, being a
Gestalt
, simply considered every possible issue and then harmonised their thoughts. To have someone put into power because he had murdered the previous leader seemed absurd; a skilled assassin might not be very good at actually running the city, let alone the world. Darius was
definitely
in desperate need of an intervention, Dacron decided, as he listened to the council’s speech of welcome. They were relieved to see him and yet they were also terrified. Master Faye could have overturned their laws with a word.

It was nearly four hours before he was able to break free and head out of the city, accompanied by the bookseller. The City Guard had wanted to send an escort, but Dacron had declined, even though it was probably too late to prevent further contamination of Darius’s society by showing them signs of a more advanced culture. Besides, a Pillar was meant to be his own, all-powerful protector. It was just another sign that Darius, far from being stable, had actually been designed to be inherently
unstable
. Dacron was still considering the issues as they reached the borderline and stopped, dead.

“Master Faye had no authority beyond this point,” the bookseller warned. “A Scion who enters your territory is throwing down a challenge; you entering
their
territory can be seen as a challenge in itself.”

Dacron nodded. The borderline was magical, barely enough to be visible to a normal magician, but easy to detect. Carefully, he stepped into it and felt the magic crackling around him, just before he was on the other side. He had the impression that magic was
less
controlled outside the borderline, as if Master Faye had done far more to keep his city safe than anyone had realised. At least the borderline hadn’t collapsed completely when he’d died.

“Some Pillars can never leave their territory,” the bookseller said. “I’d suggest that you do what you want to do and then head back to the city. Right now, a Scion might think that you had decided to leave forever.”

Dacron shook his head as he remounted the horse and rode onwards, up the road towards the clearing. He saw the pillar of smoke from a distance and spurred the horse on, already knowing that it was far too late. The clearing had been devastated by something –
balefire
, part of his mind whispered – and the buried shuttle was a blackened ruin. He scrambled off the horse and ran forward, jumping down into the pit the diggers had excavated. Up close, he could sense the magic still crackling over the metal shuttle. They’d done far more than simply lay waste to the base; they’d left a surprise behind for any unwary visitor who might have blundered into their trap.