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The Bureau of Dangerous Matter: The Last Days of Kerious Pye, #2
The Bureau of Dangerous Matter: The Last Days of Kerious Pye, #2
The Bureau of Dangerous Matter: The Last Days of Kerious Pye, #2
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The Bureau of Dangerous Matter: The Last Days of Kerious Pye, #2

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The Bureau has uncovered evidence of the impossible--an invasion from the dimension of matter.  Pye sends four Explorers to stop the plot, but when they come of age at fourteen, they're already too late.  Stranded in matter, they must devise a plan to rescue the dimension of energy. 

Under siege at the Explorers Academy, Matter-Combat Professor Ruskin Fately prepares an unusual defense of last resort.  

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 21, 2017
ISBN9780989965491
The Bureau of Dangerous Matter: The Last Days of Kerious Pye, #2
Author

Hargus Montgomery

Hargus Montgomery is the author of the Kerious Pye Series (The Seventeenth Pocket, The Bureau of Dangerous Matter), The Last Relicuin, and Units. 

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    The Bureau of Dangerous Matter - Hargus Montgomery

    The Bureau of Dangerous Matter

    Book Two

    of

    The Last Days of Kerious Pye

    by

    Hargus Montgomery

    Copyright © 2015 by Mark Pedriani

    All rights reserved

    No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form, or any form developed in the future without written permission of the author or his heirs.

    This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual locales, events or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

    Published by Kerious Pye Series LLC

    Cover design by Kate Pedriani

    www.HargusMontgomery.com

    www.Relicuin.com

    For my daughters, Kate, Gab, and Jennifer,

    and my wife, Kathleen.

    Matter Contents

    Title Page

    Copyright Page

    Dedication

    Part I

    Part II

    Glossary

    First Name Index

    Last Name Index

    Map

    Back Cover

    Part I

    ONE

    Kerious, Falco Musthaven said to the Dean of Explorers, If it’s pain yuh want, you’ll find it on vacation.

    The two old friends sat on a shallow ledge, three- quarters of the way up the Callistrine Spire. Professors taught their students that every one of the eighty-three oceans could be seen from the spire, but no one knew for sure, because no one had ever climbed to the peak. The summit could only be reached by scaling a sheer, vertical wall of callistrine that bordered one side of the Academy mountain range and dropped directly into the eighth ocean.

    When mile-high waves smashed into the mountainside, they exploded into tiny droplets that dripped in long glimmering rivulets, taking their time, enjoying the view before returning home to the sea. Wet callistrine challenged even the strongest and most experienced climbers.

    When Kerious Pye asked his old friend to scale the peak, Falco ignored stories of students seen clinging to the glimmering stone before they were lost forever. He put on his close-fitting climbing hides, which loved to cling to wet stone, tucked the ends of his handlebar moustache inside his collar, and met Kerious Pye at sunrise. As they swam out to the base of the spire, Falco was surprised to see that Pye wore his old Storm uniform instead of climbing hides. The Dean of Explorers hadn’t competed at Storm for centuries, and the uniform was not the best choice to attempt the hardest climb of their lives.

    After three days of climbing, they were miles up the white spire looking down on billowing clouds below. Falco noticed drops falling from his heavy eyebrows, and felt muscles burn in his thighs. We’re near the matter, he said, his voice cracking from the moist air. I can feel my muscles tearing. Did yuh hear me, Ker? If it’s matter-pain yuh want, why not go there? Yuh haven’t been on expedition in two centuries.

    Pye said nothing. He knew their pain would grow with every inch they climbed towards the boundary with matter. In a few more steps, the first, hot needles of matter-pain would pierce into their thoughts from above. The narrow ledge was their last reprieve. The climb above would provide few holds and no rest. As much as he wanted to, Pye couldn’t tell his old friend that he never planned to reach the peak.

    Steadying himself on the ridge of stone, Pye turned to Falco and studied the oversized Explorer, twice his own height and weight. Kerious Pye spent many years of his existence thinking himself into the image of a large man. He remembered the feeling of long legs swinging slowly forward, and great arms rising in front, wielding massive hands. The joy of being huge was more pronounced in the matterlands, as was the joy of being small and quick. During his many matter-lives, Pye had been both sizes, and every size in between. At home, where the energy of his thoughts could create any image he chose, he saw himself as short and stout, well-muscled, with a round face, a short, slightly upturned, square nose, and round, gentle eyes that gave every person who looked at them the impression that the eyes were old friends, even if Kerious Pye was not. When people asked him why he chose the face, he told them the shape reminded him of a Knorak, his best friend in his favorite matter-life. But at home, Pye had no better friend than Falco Musthaven. The two Explorers saw each other exactly as they pictured themselves. This was extremely rare, and occurred only between the closest of souls.

    Dreading what was to come, Pye delayed the inevitable a minute longer. He couldn’t help but reflect on his life, and the memory of the day he first met Falco Musthaven. As a young Professor, Pye had intervened when Musthaven appeared on a long list of students withdrawing from the Academy after their first year. I’m failing everything, Falco told the young professor, whose course in Meaning of More he was also failing. But it’s ok, Sir, Falco said. Everyone is good at something. And I’m good at failing.

    Not so, Pye answered. This Academy is different. We teach one subject so you can learn another. It’s the lessons we do not teach that count the most.

    Pye recalled the confused look in the tall eyes and heavy eyebrows that tilted, dropped and lifted with each passing thought. At that time, Falco had a large, rough and ready nose, and a dense, raggedly trimmed beard that swayed unevenly below his thick chin. While he was a young student, Falco spent a brief time attempting to trim his heavy beard into suitable shapes, before realizing, after increasingly awkward attempts, that the beard chose the best form on its own. Pye encouraged the young student to stay. Falco agreed, and went on to fail most of the classes before graduating.

    To Pye, Falco Musthaven was a walking nundrum, Explorers’ slang for a living mystery. He was the simplest and most complicated being Pye had ever known, possessing a peculiar genius of ignorance. He was also honest beyond Time, and Pye was about to trust him with much more than his life.

    The first to stand on the ledge, the shorter Explorer hugged the white callistrine with his cheek as he felt the first sickening sway of vertigo.

    Falco strained his neck to look up, but feeling his large body tilt backwards, he quickly turned his head and hugged the stone. It’s a long way up, he said, then changed his tone, but a beautiful day for climbing.

    Pye reached above, feeling for the few remaining shallow crevices. Falco’s tone didn’t fool him. It only made him feel worse.

    I hear they use ropes in the matter, Falco said. He jammed his thick fingers into a crack and grunted as he pulled his weight up a few inches. What fun is that?

    Pye could hear Falco’s large feet scrapping against the wall as he tried to find a fault large enough to plant a toe. Look down there, he said, pointing over his shoulder. He couldn’t look down, but tested Falco to see if he would try. The rainbows are racing each other through the mist.

    I’ll take your word for it. The reply came out of the side of Falco’s mouth that wasn’t pressed against the stone.

    Having climbed closer to the border with matter than anyone before them, matter-ideas began to enter their thoughts. The idea of falling became real. The cracking of a matter skull, broken, detached bones, and flowing blood became real possibilities. The image of a long fall of anticipation before unimaginable pain forced its way into their thoughts. Explorers were not immune to the fear of death. It was the most important of all matter-instincts, keeping them alive on expedition. But the instinct also produced terror, the most dreaded of all matter-feelings. The slightest slip of a finger made their stomachs jump and their hearts stop. When they heard the sound of a few grains of crumbling rock, both Explorers froze. Fearful of losing their balance, they wouldn’t look up, and they couldn’t look down.

    Pye moved slowly, hoping the bigger Explorer would fail soon.

    Falco tilted his head just enough for one eye to glance the image of Pye’s foot above him. Sweat dripped off his nose. The muscles in one hand gave out. He pressed the fingers of the other hand into the rock above, but only deep enough to plant the first knuckles. With one hand holding, he paused and tried to wipe out the thought that he had no way of climbing down. Pye’s foot disappeared. He could hear only heavy breaths. At that moment, Falco’s stomach dropped, not from the fear of falling, but because of a thought that finally explained why Pye had asked him to make an impossible climb. The unusual day began to make the worst kind of sense.

    For nearly two centuries Pye had not made an expedition into the matter. When asked why, he replied he couldn’t find one that sounded interesting. It was the rarest of answers, and never heard from an Explorer. Rumors were growing that Pye had lost his curiosity. He was preparing to give up life in this epoch and leave for the Ultrium, never to explore again, and never to be seen again. As Falco felt his right leg start to cramp again, a thought sent a shiver through every muscle. Pye had asked him to climb the spire to say goodbye. The greatest Explorer who ever lived was about to resign from the Academy, and from life. Suddenly, it all fit together. Pye would never tell anyone. He wouldn’t want attention. He would simply set off on a climb and never be seen again.

    Kerious, are yuh havin’ fun yet? Falco called up, but quickly lowered his voice, because even the vibration of the words changed his balance.

    No one’s done this before, Pye’s softer, wiser voice called down. Nor will again. I’m glad I could do it with a friend.

    Yuh know, Ker, old boy. Falco kept his cheek against the wall. His muscles were failing. Death is real this high up. I feel it. Can you?

    Sure as salt, Pye replied. Hardest thing I’ve ever done.

    You weren’t planin’ to leave us. Were yuh?

    Falco heard no reply, only the sound of dust falling.

    "Yuh there?" he asked.

    Stop if you want, Pye finally answered. For me, there’s no way out, but up.

    Stop? Not me. I’m with yuh, Kerious.

    Pye let his head rest against the wet stone. He knew Falco wouldn’t abandon him. If there had been any other way, he would never have led him up the spire.

    As the reality of their deaths drew closer, both men stopped talking. Only pain remained, as skin rubbed raw and muscles failed in succession. When his muscles wouldn’t hold, Falco jammed his thick fingers into crevices, hanging by the joint. Pye stayed above him, forcing his old friend to climb, even while he saw the blood from his own hands dripping past him. He knew the climb couldn’t last any longer.

    Tears mixed with the sweat on Falco’s face. He felt the full sadness of leaving life. It was not what he expected when the day dawned. He wasn’t ready to leave.

    I want yuh ta know, Ker. Falco gasped the words out, hoping Pye would hear. If I have ta go. I’m glad it’s with a friend.

    Seconds passed with no words, only groans as both men tried to stay on the wall.

    I can’t hold.

    Pye heard the words whispered below him.

    Nothin’ ta hold.

    Fungus. Pye shaped the words out of an exhausted breath. "Above you. Grab it."

    Falco heard, but didn’t believe it. The flimsy stone fungus grew all the way up the climb, but the thin blades couldn’t hold the weight of a bird.

    It’ll hold, Pye said. Just grab on.

    Falco reached up to feel the thin leaf of fungus. He smiled at his own foolishness at doubting Kerious Pye. With most of his fingers over the leaf, he pulled. The fiber of the leaf was too soft to make a cracking sound as it broke. The exhausted Explorer lost his balance and fell backwards seven miles up the Callistrine Spire.

    In the first moment, he grabbed out in front, feeling only air. Wide-eyed terror on the large face was not fear, but the shock of betrayal. Falco Musthaven was a being made of trust. His friend and hero’s betrayal broke him inside, as completely as the fall would crush every other part of him. All was lost. He twisted his body to face down, welcoming the moment of his premature end.

    Pye called Falco’s name twice before bowing his head to see a fast receding brown and red form. The movement made him lose his balance, but he didn’t care. He released his hold and tipped backwards. Stretching out his body, he pointed down, head first, to speed his fall.

    TWO

    Runella is a very old name, her mother explained, pointing towards the sky. Much older than those clouds.

    May I have new one? the six-year-old asked. Younger than the clouds?

    Much to Runella Treheusen’s relief, her complete, first name never survived childhood. ‘Runella’ was shoved inside the sock drawer of family history, and Nell heard from friends that her name was cool, sophisticated, even mysterious. Years later, at University College London, one friend confessed she was jealous of the name. But by then, Runella was well past her fourteenth birthday, the year her true identity dawned above the horizon of her memory. From that year forward, she happily introduced herself as Runella Treheusen. Her friends still called her Nell.

    As a young girl, Nell was very bright, but overly inquisitive. She loved school, but asked too many questions, and always at inappropriate times. After several warnings, and numerous parent-teacher conferences, her parents had no choice but to withdraw their only child from school and hire a tutor. Alone, the girl progressed rapidly, easily passing her tests and exams. All the while, Nell attended school events, applauding and cheering for children who might have been her school friends.

    When the time finally arrived to attend a university, Nell was excited to be joining her peers in a school. The year started well. With her sprinkling of freckles, constant smile, long copper-colored hair gathered haphazardly in several bunches, and out-of-the-ordinary clothing choices, Nell immediately drew attention. Unbeknownst to her, her photo networked into a rapidly expanding group of fans that gathered each morning when she appeared on campus. But only four months later, in the middle of her first year, once again, her status was in jeopardy. During the first session, she told her Anthropology professor she knew several Neanderthals, she corrected her Physics professor, explaining that time changed for every person and light spoke a language, she annoyed her History professor when she informed him that wars were really caused because people liked uniforms, and she explained to her entire Middle English class that words really wanted to escape from grammar. Corrected in every lecture, Nell refused to give the proper answers, even on her tests.

    In her final visit with the Dean of Students, Nell explained that many things she learned from her professors were untrue, and she could pass her exams only if she lied. Exasperated by the excuses, the Dean suggested she would have to choose between answering an exam question with her idea of a lie, or failing. The Dean didn’t know that Runella Treheusen could not lie.

    On her last night at the university, Nell walked to Regents Park. The ponds offered solace after difficult days listening to professors talk about things they didn’t know. Pausing near the dark water, she stared at the stars and imagined her father’s wide cheeks smiling when he joked about his matterlander friends. In the silent cold she could hear his voice. Landers love to tell the truth, he would say, but they sure don’t like to hear it. She wished he were still alive, smiling beside her. Her Explorer’s oath of honesty was impossible to bear. She was rejected at every school. Her friends left for places she couldn’t go. She was left to spend the days alone. Her father laughed at the lander ways, but when she tried a smile, the sadness inside reached up and pulled down her eyes and cheeks. Loneliness hurt. She thought back to the day she turned fourteen, and began to cry.

    While walking slowly out of the park, Nell felt a pinch in the middle of her back, just below her neck. Her first thought was that it was too cold for a bee sting. She tried to reach under the coat that had been hand made from the wool of her mother’s favorite sheep. Nell’s mother had been making woolen coats and sweaters all of her life. To be fair to the coats, Nell wore them all, in their turn, but dozens remained in storage where they provided winter shelter for moths, spiders and beetles. During her last visit, Annabelle Treheusen brought six new coats from their North Hampton farm. Nell simply assumed the visitor was trapped in the newly arrived coat, woke up and found itself smothered. She smiled as she reached under the heavy wool to remove the bug. But as she reached over her shoulder, a new feeling moved inside her, like ice water flowing from her back, into her shoulder. It continued sinking down, inside her chest. The sensation flowed into her arms and legs, saturating every part of her. She thought she felt wetness on her thighs. The walkway in front rose and fell. Streetlights streaked, and flashed. Without warning, the muscles in her legs released.

    Are you alright, Nell, a woman’s voice said. Not to worry, Dear. Come with me. We’ll carry you back to your room, and call your mum.

    Nell tried to answer ‘thank you,’ but her lips hung open. Her body began moving, rocking back and forth. She felt herself being lowered flat on her back, and then heard a car door slam near her head.

    A low, heavily accented man’s voice spoke from the front of the car. Get her necklace.

    Nell felt the woman’s hands lift the back of her head, and watched the small, mirrored pendant dangle above her. Unable to move or speak, she could only watch as the woman took away the gift her father had given her on her fourteenth birthday.

    And watch her close, the man’s voice ordered. "Forsythe said no money if something happen to this one. Be careful."

    When Nell’s friends reported her missing, a constable searched hospital records and 999 call logs. The name Runella Treheusen never appeared. Her friends said Nell told them she was going for a walk to say goodbye to the pond. When they were asked about the odd statement, they explained that it really wasn’t unusual for Nell to say things like that.

    THREE

    Pye’s body gained speed with each mile he fell down the Callistrine Spire. Streaks of grey and white streamed by as his thoughts turned to what lay below. At the speed he was falling, water would feel like stone, shattering every bone in his body. Death was near. Using all his training and experience, he pushed the thought away, but the influence of matter was still strong, convincing him that his body was matter, and the force of the collision would end his life. With three miles left to fall, he was saying a final farewell and resigning himself to the end when the influence of matter finally began to dissolve.

    His moustache sailing above him, Falco dropped below the clouds. A dark surface appeared below. He knew the final jolt was near. Closing his eyes, preparing to feel the final crush, he thought how odd it was that water could hurt him. During his centuries of life, he had never seen water hurt anyone on the energy Plane. The water he knew so well would send up a wave to lower him softly. Tumbling through the last mile of air, fear peeled away. The influence of matter disappeared, and the energy of his thoughts took over. He opened his eyes and instinctively opened his arms, thinking of them as breaks to slow his fall. His body slowed until he was floating rather than falling. Instead of killing him, the ocean’s surface welcomed him as his feet slipped gently into the water. Worries about pain and death remained high above in the realm of matter. But the betrayal of his best friend did not disappear. It was as real and painful as if he had been broken to pieces by the fall.

    Instead of returning to the surface, Falco swam deeper, choosing to stay in the comforting ocean. If he surfaced, he would have to face the impossible. The most sacred vow in the Explorers oath was honesty, and the greatest living Explorer was a liar.

    A white arrow of bubbles preceded Kerious Pye’s form. With his short, muscled arms outspread, the smaller Explorer steadied himself. He saw Falco holding himself in the depths, his hair and moustache floating outward, forming a comical spectacle. But Pye could only focus on the large, sad eyes.

    The woven fabric of Pye’s Storm uniform collected callistrine dust that floated around him in a cloud. Falco wondered if the being near him was Pye or the ghost of Pye. The strange figure waved him towards the sheer callistrine wall extending deep beneath the ocean’s surface. Falco hesitated at first, and then reached out his arms, pulling the water beside him and swimming towards the ghost of Pye.

    They swam deeper, and still deeper, towards a wavy black hole. Pye’s ghost disappeared inside the underwater cave. Falco followed, swimming through the tunnel of water-hewn rock. A light appeared ahead, and the ghost disappeared.

    Falco stopped before he swam up into the glimmering circle. He wondered if Kerious Pye was showing him he had really died. The effects of matter lingered. Was the light ahead the Ultrium? He thought about turning back, escaping death. Holding himself under water, he heard the sound of a voice, the words stretching as they sank down through the water. He looked up into the light to see cone-shaped forms wavering with the movement of the rippling surface. Holding up one hand, feeling dry air, he reached a large hand above the water’s surface, grabbed onto a rock ledge and pulled his head above water.

    Generations of stalagmites and stalactites stared at him from the floor and ceiling of the cave. Grandchildren stared in awe, while their parents and grandparents merely smiled. Stalagmites rarely saw other beings. They loved their cave homes and never left. The few plebeians who visited the caves never stayed long enough to talk.

    Hoisting himself up, Falco sat on the edge of the cave pool, disoriented, curious, and a little frightened. An inviting scent arrived on a gentle breeze that flowed from an opening on the far side of the cave. A friendly blue light called him towards the passage. If this was the Ultrium, he thought, it should be beautiful, but he always imagined the Ultrium being above rather than below. He stayed on the ledge, still tempted to dive back into the water and swim quickly back out to the ocean.

    I’m sorry.

    The voice came from the jagged purple and yellow stripes of an old Storm jersey on the other side of the pool. It was the uniform of Kerious Pye, not his ghost.

    Pye walked around the pool and lowered a hand to help Falco up, but he couldn’t budge the Explorer. Pye found that odd, because they were both back on the energy Plane where thought controlled. He should have been able to lift his old friend with a mere thought. Then it occurred to Pye, it was guilt that took his strength. He could not lift the Explorer because he did not deserve to lift him.

    Feeling the weakness in the normally powerful arm of Kerious Pye, Falco stood by himself.

    I’m sorry, Pye repeated in a thready voice that no longer resembled his clear tone of the ages.

    For what? Falco asked. Pretending to wipe the water from his cheeks, he checked to feel if there were tears on the skin. Best climb of my life.

    I’ll never forgive myself for that. Unable to look his friend in the eye, Pye bowed his head. "Never. He stepped forward and forced himself to look up above Falco’s handlebars. We had no choice. They insisted on the karrabith test."

    "They? Falco asked. Who’s they?"

    Pye pointed to the beckoning tunnel light. What I did to you was terrible. What they will tell you is far worse.

    The two Explorers entered the narrow passage in silence. Pye was too ashamed to speak, and Falco had faced death and betrayal in one day. Words refused to form into the shape of their feelings.

    As they walked over an ageless floor, Falco ran his hand along uneven stone walls. Stone was beloved on the Plane. Only stone could slow the movement of thought energy, offering plebeians a place to go when they wished to be alone. Professors at the Academy asked stone to teach the class in Patience. Every student remembered the day they walked into their class to find that the professor was a block of stone. They stared and pondered stones silent message, all the while learning the meaning of patience. Falco smiled at the veins of colored stone, happily layered together for millions of years. Having spent millennia watching faster beings rush through life, making countless, foolish mistakes, stone developed a wry sense of humor. When he returned from a difficult expedition, Falco would go to a pass in the mountains. He knew that if he sat quietly, and listened, stone would tell stories that could make him laugh again.

    When Pye stopped, Falco looked ahead to find that the cave ended in a solid wall. The breeze also stopped. Pye knelt down and began searching the rock formations. When he placed his small, muscled hand on a round of stone, the rock softened. Creases and wrinkles appeared. With soft cracks, fingers separated, and a flesh hand opened. Pye briefly grasped the hand. When he released his grip, the fingers closed back into a ball, the flesh fused together, the wrinkles disappeared, and the round solidified back into another of the countless curves in the cave wall.

    The solid rock wall before them gave off a deep, low-pitched whine that grew gradually to a loud and long yawn. As the yawn grew louder, swallowing every other sound, the stone split, opening a deeper seam that cut farther into the mountain.

    Pye stepped into the descending tunnel. Falco hesitated for a moment. He loved stone, but he knew that a single visit could last centuries. They walked on, facing the yawning sound in front, while grinding powder fell on their heels as the seam fused behind them. Inside the deafening voice of stone, Falco found himself incapable of forming an idea. It was as though the sound dissolved each notion before a thought could form. When the yawning finally ceased, and the grinding roar echoed behind, they were standing at the opening of a chamber sealed beneath miles of mountain.

    Falco could only wait and stare as thoughts muted by the narrow stone passage gradually reformed. Notions transformed first into familiar hints, which then became puzzle pieces of sounds and images that finally came to life as fully formed ideas.

    With their thoughts revived, the two Explorers stepped into the opening of a small, domed cathedral. In all his centuries as a student, and centuries more living among the Explorers, Falco had neither seen nor heard any of his comrades speak of a room carved into a mountain beneath the ocean. Secreted in the most secure and hidden chamber at the Academy, the Bureau of Dangerous Matter was inaccessible and unimaginable to all but the carefully selected membership.

    The Bureau had been formed in the fourth millennium of the epoch, when a matterlander broke through Customs and entered the energy Plane with a small army under his command. The ingenious lander had designed a shield to protect memories and weapons as they passed through the barrier between energy and matter. Customs officials immediately identified the unusually aggressive plebeians. They were quarantined, and their visas were confiscated, but that single attempt changed history. Legionnaires and Explorers met to discuss the meaning of the event. They agreed that the Plane was no longer immune from all the negative forces produced in matter. To protect against future threats, Customs officials formed a small intelligence unit to monitor the activities of the most dangerous landers.

    Membership in the Bureau was limited to the oldest Customs family, and a few Explorers and Legionnaires carefully selected for their knowledge of matterlander ways. Every member was sworn to absolute secrecy. Negative thought had never existed on the energy Plane. Plebeians had no defense. The energy of a single negative thought could spread as a deadly virus. Even the mention of such an attack was permitted only inside the thought-insulating rock.

    Falco looked up into the high, curved ceiling. Along the walls, in rows, small, model matterworlds of varying shapes, colors and sizes revolved slowly. Each perfect replica emitted its own light, which blended together to bath the cathedral in changing hues of color.

    In the center of the room, a small group of people sat in their personal living chairs that had grown around the fire. One of the people stood up and walked towards Falco.

    Welcome Falco Musthaven.

    Falco didn’t reply. He couldn’t. The woman’s skin pulsated with color. Even the individual strands of her long hair emitted the soft pulsing light. Color rippled through her, changing, moment-to-moment, expressing many more things then she could say. The woman was an Empath. Only the Empath race held the power to send beings to the matter. At the moment of passage from energy to matter, the Empaths distilled every thought into the very essence of the traveller. That seed of distilled thought was then phased with the traveller’s chosen matterworld, sent beyond the barrier, and reborn in a seed of matter. Through their pulsing skin, Empaths sensed the very soul of a voyager.

    I am Trefelyne Persidayis, the Empath said with her hand extended.

    Falco refused to move. The moment her skin touched his, she would know everything. All his personal dreams and hopes. Falco had no fear of revealing his own thoughts, but he possessed a secret that involved Trefelyne, a secret he swore never to reveal.

    The beautiful face smiled. The Empath withdrew her hand. I’m grateful you came. I know how difficult this is.

    Falco never expected to meet Trefelyne Persidayis. Persidayis was the name of the oldest Customs family in existence. Trefelyne was destined to replace her mother as sovereign of the Customs people. But for Falco, Trefelyne’s prestige was not nearly as important as the secret he held. Centuries ago, high on a mountain, during one of their climbs, Kerious Pye had confessed he was in love with Trefelyne. For Pye, it was not an expression of joy, but a quiet admission of despair. The survival of the rare and delicate Empaths required them to marry their own kind, and produce children only when the oldest Empath left the Plane. Pye knew his love was impossible. As the decades passed, Falco thought Pye’s infatuation would fade, and he would seek companionship elsewhere. But that day never arrived. Through countless expeditions, the Explorer spent his life admiring a woman he could never marry. As the centuries passed, Falco watched Pye grow older, sitting alone by his fire at the Lodge, quietly singing songs about a life he might have led. Only Falco knew of the old Explorer’s loneliness, and Pye made him swear never to reveal his secret.

    Bowing his head to look down at the graceful being, Falco could only stare. Trefelyne was as beautiful as he imagined. Everything about her spoke without speaking. The curves of her form were welcoming and defenseless. Living color under her translucent skin told stories by the second, and a faint perfume of longing brought unfulfilled wishes to mind. The knowledge that she could know everything through a mere touch made her sweet and loving, vulnerable, and dangerous. This was a power like no other, and a woman like no other.

    Have him sit by the fire. Mallory Brimwaest walked to Falco and held out her hand. Give him a moment. His words haven’t arrived.

    Falco held the small, gentle fingers, and silently followed the Legionnaire. In the touch of a Legionnaire, he felt trust light again in his soul.

    The blue and green glow from the revolving worlds, and the orange heat of the fire soothed the large Explorer. He managed to say, thank you, in a low whisper. As they walked to a chair, Falco thought he passed behind Gwendolyn Lastlarken, which added yet another, even more baffling thought onto a being whose life had been turned upside down twice in one day. Why had a young Explorer, a Legionnaire and an Empath come together? And after millennia, why had he never heard of this chamber hidden in the Academy?

    Take a moment, Mallory said, handing him his own clay mug from the Lodge, filled with warm ale. Drink this. Then we’ll talk.

    Falco sipped familiar flavors. They knew him well. Tayes honey, ground epswich, century-old trumbleroot, smoked kingsvine, and the hundreds of plants and spices that had been added to his brew during his time at the Lodge. The flavors began their work the moment a mug was drawn from the barrel. The brew could summon any memory to suit its Explorer’s needs or mood.

    Each sip formed images of the Lodge on the inside, while the orange heat of the fire reassured him from the outside. Slowly, Falco regained his voice. He finally smiled and looked out at the faces around the fire. They were the faces of friends, but no one was happy. Falco sensed why Pye had struggled to bring him there.

    The karrabith is a very old test, Mallory said, seeing the wonderful, sweet light return to the tall Explorer’s eyes. Only loyalty can survive that kind of pressure. Sadly, the test can also kill the subject. I always love to see you, Falco. But I wish you had never come.

    Normally relaxed and casual in manner, the Legionnaire was dressed in a long hauberk made of dark reflective chain mail. Her gentle blond hair fell over the stern hauberk, which was clearly uneasy. The dark blue metal cloth rose and flashed with each movement, surveying the room for danger, ready to protect the Legionnaire from any threat.

    I passed a test today? Falco said. First time in my life.

    Too bad you won’t survive. Gwendolyn Lastlarken spoke without looking at Falco. Or you could brag about it.

    Falco chuckled. Matter-insults were his favorite form of humor, and no one was better at them than Gwendolyn Lastlarken. But when he looked at her, he didn’t see the sarcastic smirk he found so appealing. There was no taunting glint in the corner of her beguiling eyes.

    Old friend. Kerious Pye forced himself to speak above a whisper. We’ve been betrayed.

    Do you remember Rowan Caulderoth? Mallory asked Falco.

    The fool who escaped to the matter? Falco’s voice held a gentle disdain.

    A very powerful fool, Pye replied.

    But he’s just a plebeian, Falco said. Like most Explorers, Falco saw plebeians as innocent beings to be protected.

    The Empaths have known for a long time that Rowan Caulderoth hid something. Trefelyne sat in a chair grown completely of dark moss that muted the colors in her skin. His last voyage in the matter was the most destructive in the history of travel. His actions destroyed six matterworlds. Rowan has been held here for almost two millennia.

    Two thousand years? Falco said. "Shoulda learned somethin’. Don’t yuh think."

    His rehabilitation is very slow. Trefelyne paused to take a breath of air, as if the scent of the fire would give her courage. We would have released him earlier. But when he sought a new visa, he refused the touch of an Empath. No one can travel without touching one of us. That law is inviolable. He continues to hide something. That’s why he escaped.

    What could a man hide? Falco asked, taking a quick sip of ale. "For two thousand years."

    He didn’t hide it from everyone, Gwendolyn interrupted.

    Falco looked over at Gwendolyn and thought it was odd that the young-appearing Explorer was dressed in multi-layered matterworld clothing. Lander garments of different lengths covered her from top to bottom. A short tunic masked her shoulders and arms, covering a mid-shirt, and half-dress, all of different colors that clung to her curves. Leg wraps showed above socks, which showed above boots. Colors had always loved Gwendolyn, and they all looked very happy to be near her. The layers were as complicated as the Explorer, and made Falco stare. Only the skin of her knees, forearms and the beautifully insulting face were exposed. Falco found her to be one of the most intriguing Explorers he had ever known, but he couldn’t understand why she was wearing lander clothing. It looked as though she had just come back, or she was about to leave on expedition. You knew about this all along? he asked.

    Gwen has been working with the Bureau for some time. Pye answered before Lastlarken could speak. She’s unusually well suited to the work they do.

    Between three and four hundred years ago, Gwendolyn explained, Caulderoth befriended an Explorer. One of our own. We thought nothing of it. Lots of the ruddy pleibs have Explorers for friends. I’ve even seen you with a couple of the dunces.

    Falco smiled and nodded.

    Caulderoth’s Explorer friend is Darillin Myte, Gwendolyn continued. In the matterworld, he is known by the names Forsythe, Cantrell, and many others.

    Myte? Falco squinted and bunched his lips up towards his nose at the same time. It was a habit he had developed at the Academy because he believed it helped him think. Sounds familiar. I think I saw him at the Lodge. Aye. He’s the one. Doesn’t like to sing. I thought that was unusual.

    When Myte left on his last Expedition, Trefelyne said, the Empath who sent him reported that he was deeply in love with a plebeian. He was on some kind of mission to save her.

    Annika Fallow, Gwendolyn added. Sound familiar?

    Falco turned towards Pye. Not the other jumper? The one who escaped with Caulderoth?

    Pye nodded.

    Annika Fallow also lost her visa. Trefelyne continued the explanation with a lilt of apology in her voice. But she had no need to escape. She was nearly rehabilitated. We were about to grant a new visa.

    They believe the three are working together, Pye said. Fallow, Caulderoth, and Darillin Myte.

    Working? Falco asked. Working on what?

    Over the past century, thirty-eight Explorers have visited that world. As Trefelyne spoke, the colors of her skin changed, pulsing dark purple and brown. The last four have returned without wearing their talismans. Including Arden McGivven.

    He never told me that, Falco said. Why didn’t he tell me that?

    We asked Arden not to say anything, Mallory answered. Seeing Trefelyne’s change in color, the Legionnaire took over the explanation. She knew Trefelyne would find it painful to mention the names of the two escapees, Rowan and Annika. Empaths knew the story of every traveller, and Rowan and Annika’s were among the worst. It was a difficult time, Mallory continued. We were trying to recover from the breach. Repair the barrier to protect us from matter. Rumors about an attack could have caused plebeians to panic.

    But it’s not his fault, yuh know, Falco said, defending Arden. The landers will steal anything. Once when I was in a scuffle—not a my own design acourse—one of ’em tried to tear my talisman right from my neck.

    "But four, Falco? Mallory said the words slowly. One after the other? All returning from the same world? It never happened before."

    We can’t ignore the facts. Pye regained the rare, confident tone of a fully-aged voice. The Explorers in that world may be the victims of a coordinated attack.

    "Who? Falco asked, standing to confront the challenge. From where?"

    It doesn’t take a genius—

    Gwendolyn started to speak, but Pye held up his hand and tilted his eyes at her. "We’re not sure yet," he said firmly.

    They had all agreed to give Falco time to recover from the karrabith test before they told him about the invasion. Pye turned back to Falco. I’ve asked Gwen and Mallory to go to that world to investigate. I would like you to go with them.

    When do we leave? Falco said. Let’s go now.

    Not so fast. Rowan presents a new kind of danger.

    Falco grinned. Trouble and me, we’re old acquaintances. You know that, Kerious. I’ll deal with trouble.

    Rowan is far more powerful, Pye said.

    Falco blew a breath past his moustache. Awh, he’s just another trickster. The matter is filled with ’em. No worries.

    Pye started to speak, but Trefelyne spoke over him. Please, Kerious. Allow me to explain.

    Pye looked at Trefelyne. Are you allowed?

    We have many secrets, Trefelyne answered. But this is not one of them. She turned to Falco. Once a plebeian or Explorer has chosen a matterworld, they have only to touch one of my family. You know very well what happens then.

    I feel blinkin’ wonderful, Falco answered. I have a short nap. And then I wake up around a lot of bigger landers. They’re usually smiling.

    "But do you know how it happens?" Trefelyne asked.

    Your gift?

    Trefelyne smiled and nodded. How we acquired the gift is our secret. But I can tell you how it’s done. Here, you are pure energy. The energy of thought. When you leave, you are merely thoughts. Nothing else.

    I always feel light, Falco said. Like the wind is blowing me and I have nothing to say about it.

    You actually don’t, Trefelyne continued. Every matterworld has its own design. Once your energy crosses the barrier, matter determines your form and substance.

    "I remember the first time I touched matter-skin on my arms and toes. And tickle. Falco looked around at the others, hoping someone would share the memory. Remember that? That’s what they called it. Right? Who designed tickle?"

    Trefelyne paused and smiled. A streak of yellow pulsed through her more serious colors. I’ve heard about that sensation. I always wanted to feel it. There are so many matter-feelings. You’re very fortunate to travel.

    Everyone waited for Trefelyne to continue, but she seemed to be daydreaming about how a tickle might feel.

    Please, Pye finally said, drawing her attention back to the discussion.

    Oh, of course. Trefelyne’s skin showed some orange embarrassment. She turned back to Falco. You see, you’ll have all the restrictions and limitations of that matterworld’s design. Rowan will not. His thoughts will make him appear as he wishes, but he’ll be pure energy.

    Don’t worry, Falco said. I’ll ask him nicely, acourse. And if he doesn’t give up his schemes, I’ll take him down a notch.

    You won’t touch him, Falco. Pye’s tone was flat and matter-of-fact. He can kill you with a thought. He can destroy that entire world if he wants.

    Tell me again, Kerious. Gwendolyn pointed at Falco. Why did you choose this idiot?

    Nothin’ like her, Falco said, pointing his thumb towards Gwendolyn. She’ll keep us all smilin’, no matter what.

    "Oaf."

    Poetry. Falco slapped across his cheek with the front and back of his hand, and then tugged the left and right sides of his moustache. He made the gesture when laughter didn’t quite satisfy his feeling of enjoyment.

    Pye looked at the strange gesture. He couldn’t seem to make his old friend understand the threat he was about to face. "You have to understand, Falco. Caulderoth can’t be killed. Not by landers. He can do anything he wants. He. We always feared this. It’s the most dangerous threat we’ve ever faced."

    "Dangerous is as dangerous does, Ker. Sorry. Kerious. If he wants dangerous from me, then dangerous he’ll get."

    Well said… Pye shook his head, …I guess. But I’ve checked your travel records. It’s been centuries since you’ve been to that world. These landers have evolved. They have new weapons. Professor Fately knows their tactics and strategies. Best you see him before you leave.

    Glad to, Falco agreed. Always liked his class. Flunked it, acourse. But liked it. He stood up. I’ll go right now.

    Trefelyne offered to walk Falco to the door. When they were near the stone passage, she stopped and thanked him again for coming. After the stone separated to allow him through, Trefelyne spoke quietly. Falco, it’s ok. We can shake hands now. I know your secret.

    The large Explorer looked down into the Empath’s eyes, but still wouldn’t dare to grasp the hand she offered. The skin on her face blushed in hues of warmth and understanding.

    About Kerious, she said softly. I know.

    Unable to resist the woven colors, Falco finally succumbed. He grasped the small hand and immediately felt flesh as soft and mysterious as the colors.

    Trefelyne leaned forward and whispered. Now here’s a new secret for you to keep. I feel the same about Kerious.

    Falco’s mouth slowly dropped, revealing a dark orange lower lip that rarely appeared below the heavy moustache. Just as surprise showed in his eyes, the ground rumbled and the rock started

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