Charles had been too excited to go to bed that night, but when he finally did fall asleep it was deep and dreamless. It seemed he had been sleeping for only a few minutes when a hand shook him awake in the pitch dark. Charles tried to ignore it and stay sleeping, but the shaking was insistent.
"Charles...wake up...quiet now...wake up, boy..."
It was Scholar Hecart. He was standing there with a candle, fully dressed at this early hour. He pulled Charles closer and bent to speak in his ear.
"Listen, Charles, the President wants to see you before you have breakfast with Lord Shaw. Go right now, across the courtyard. He's waiting for you in the Rector's office, understand? No, don't get dressed - use this," and he produced a black Scholar's robe and dropped it over Charles' head.
"Put on your shoes. Go straight to the Rector's office and tap quietly on the window. When he's finished talking to you, come straight back. I'll make sure your clothes are ready. Quickly, now."
Charles put his shoes on and walked out into the hallway. Had Lord Shaw decided to leave earlier than planned? No, they would at least have let him get dressed, no matter how early. The unfamiliar robe coupled with the feeling of shoes without stockings made traveling down the stairs feel a bit odd, but he managed well enough. Maaike's fur was mussed and he could tell she felt uncomfortable, too. Charles pushed the stairwell door into icy air, and crossed the courtyard towards the Rector's office.
He could still pick out a few constellations in the night sky: the Charioteer was there, and the Three Towers, and the Scales were just disappearing into a purpling dawn over the chapel. Charles reached the office and tapped once on the window. A curtain was pulled back briefly, and then the President himself, also fully dressed, was opening the door and guiding Charles inside.
"Good boy. Come in quickly, we haven't got very long."
"Aren't I going with Lord Shaw still?"
"Yes, I can't prevent it," replied the President, and Charles didn't notice in the moment how odd that sentence was. "Charles. I want to give you something, but you must swear to keep it absolutely private. Will you promise that to me?"
"Yes, sir, of course," Charles said uncertainly.
The President took out a red velvet pouch from inside his robe. He handed it to Charles and gave a nod when Charles hesitated before opening it.
It was a thick silver disk, with a width just smaller than his palm. As Charles turned it over, he could see that the insides were like a watch, covered in glass and holding gears that locked together and looked like they should turn.
"What is it?" Charles asked.
"It's an alethiometer."
Charles turned it over. There were hands, too, pointing in different directions, but the outer rim was covered in little symbols, not numbers. It was larger and heavier than any pocket watch he had seen a man wear.
"What does it do?"
"It helps you find the truth." Charles looked up in surprise, and saw the President's face looking back at him with compassion. Maaike made a soft sound of dismay. "Charles, my boy, you have known for a while that you've had abilities that surpass simple intellect. It was one of the reasons your father entrusted you to us. Now that you're leaving, you will have to take responsibility for what you're able to do. In order to take responsibility for it, you must first learn what you're capable of. The alethiometer will help you do this. I am giving it to you because I trust you."
The President smiled gently as he continued. "No more making Scholars forget to give you lessons, Charles, or getting a vendor to give you sausages. Now, you must turn your energies towards something new. You must learn to find the truth instead of making it yourself."
Charles looked at the alethiometer, gently turning it over in his hands. "How does it work?"
"We don't know. We haven't been able to discover this since it came into Oxford's possession. All I can tell you is that it's meant to be read, and that you must learn how to do it."
Charles nodded slowly, trying to hide his dismay. The fact that there was something that the President of Oxford did not know seriously altered Charles' vision of the world. He looked down and concentrated on re-wrapping the velvet around the disk.
"There's more, my boy." He paused for a moment as his owl daemon ruffled her feathers. "Your friend Raven has disappeared from Oxford, along with a few other children."
"Pietro..." Charles breathed.
"Yes, the young Pietro as well. All of the children taken have powers beyond the norm, Charles, as you do. We do not know where they've been taken, or why." He sighed. "We have tried, to no avail. This is one of the first things you must work to find out."
"Sir, of course I will. I'm sure that Lord Shaw can help-"
"No, Charles. This is something you must keep to yourself. This and the alethiometer."
"But...why? He's got lots of friends in London, he must know people at Scotland Yards-"
"Charles, you swore to me," and Charles felt the true weight of that promise settle on to his shoulders.
"Yes sir."
"You must go back now. Bless you, my boy." He touched Charles affectionately on the cheek. "Don't be afraid of your strength. We have often asked you to look beyond the facts; now you know enough to ask that of yourself. Bless you, Charles."
Charles was hustled out the door, and the President closed it without another word. He stood there for a moment, then caught Maaike up in his arms and walked back to his room as the sun's first rays touched the fountain.
xxx
Charles sat before a breakfast larger and more sumptuous than he had been allowed in quite some time. Eggs, kedegree, kippers, sausages, tomatoes, black pudding, cream, scones, and more were on the table, with dishes being replaced quickly and silently. Charles ate with enthusiasm, making sure to have some of everything on the table.
Lord Shaw looked up at him over the morning papers. "A good appetite, eh, Charles?" Charles tried to look sheepish around a mouthful of eggs, and Shaw laughed. "I'm glad to see it. From now on, you must always eat a full meal at every sitting, Charles, because sometimes we won't have time to stop. You'll need to keep yourself at full strength."
Charles nodded, and gave his attention to a scone with lemon curd as Shaw looked back at the paper. Maaike was curled up beside him, lying partially on his coat pocket. By the time Charles had returned, Scholar Hecart had only his traveling clothes in the room; everything else had been packed and sent on already. He felt a bit odd, carrying something so important right in his pocket, but he hadn't had a choice.
Then, the Porter was calling that the horses were at the door; Charles jumped up and attempted to wipe his face and put on his coat at the same time. Shaw laughed again and stood behind Charles to help him with his coat.
"Excited, Charles? I'm glad. We'll be going on a true adventure, and when you next see Oxford, it will be through the eyes of a seasoned traveler. Up in the carriage now, we don't want to miss the zeppelin."
Charles had to remind himself that he was not twelve and that it was not appropriate for him to bounce on the blue velvet seat, no matter how springy it might feel. Oxford passed in front of his eyes with great speed; he strained to see if the Lehnsherr boat still remained at the wharf, but it was beyond his sight. Then, they were at the air dock; Shaw produced papers that caused the port boys to touch their caps to Charles and hurry the baggage up the bridge. Shaw guided Charles after them, and then he was sitting in a seat by the window, watching Oxford shrink away as the zeppelin floated into the sky.
At first, Shaw worked on some papers, leaving Charles to stare out the window, looking down and trying to trace the rivers below to see how long it would be before they reached London. Then, Shaw put his papers away, Charles took his eyes from the window, and Shaw began to talk.
And, what a conversation! Shaw discussed some of his latest research, but stopped to ask Charles which concepts he was familiar with, and which not; Charles was familiar with enough of them to bring a pleased smile to Shaw's face. Then there were topics that were beyond Charles: talk of Embassies, Ambassadors, The Royal Arctic Institute, as well as readings and lectures given by famous explorers and scientists. Charles wouldn't have to attend, Shaw reassured him; it was not like studying at school. But, he might often want to attend, and that would be fine, as long as it didn't interfere with his work for Shaw.
As well, there were gatherings that Charles would be expected to attend with Shaw: concerts, dances, and the Opera. These might seem to be completely social gatherings, but Shaw assured him they were not; one might not be able to speak to a venerated scientist after his lecture, but often he would be able to speak briefly if they were both attending the same concert. Shaw would help Charles get new clothes just for occasions like these.
They were landing, though Charles hadn't realized it; Shaw saw his confused expression and explained that the zeppelins hovered over the ground and were lashed down just enough to keep them in place; that was why he hadn't felt them touching the ground again.
"They never touch the earth, Charles, that's why some people call them "angel-ships", since they're not on the ground with us sinful folks." They were walking through the crowded station, bypassing the trains and going straight out on to the street. Shaw looked up and raised a hand; a carriage with two bay horses came out of line and directly over to them.
"Jump up, Charles, leave your bags and Sands will get them for you - Sands, this is my new assistant, Charles Xavier." Sands was a burly man with brown eyes and a quick smile, and he winked at Charles to boot. "Welcome, Mr. Xavier," he said, simultaneously shaking Charles' hand and tossing up one of the bags. Charles climbed into the carriage, dizzy with new sights, sounds, and being called "Mr. Xavier" without any apparent irony. He leaned back in the carriage, Maaike in his lap, and wondered what on earth he could possibly discover next.
