PART III - MINDS
'Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.'William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream
Folken looked down at the finished sketch. It was a good design: more graceful than the Alceides, though without the stealth cloak that made those guymelefs such a formidable weapon. No, this was designed for a different type of mission, one that relied on aerial attack and fast getaway rather than the brute force of the Alceides.
There was something missing though. The machine looked too cold and soulless; so unlike the two test pilots he had in mind. He smiled fondly to himself, an expression that would have surprised his underlings. Nariya and Eriya were the nearest thing he had to family now. He had rescued them from a mob of hunters on little more than a whim. In part it was because he hated to see innocent creatures suffer, but there was also the fact that they reminded him of his little brother's cat-girl, Merle. Perhaps there was some deep-rooted affinity between the sons of Goau and the catfolk. It was a foolish conceit, he told himself, but one he had been unable to resist.
He picked up the propelling pencil and sketched flowing hair around the head of the guymelef. It would not serve any practical purpose, but somehow it looked right. Finally he wrote "Teiring Mk I" in large neat letters at the top of the design sketch and put it in a folder ready to show his engineers tomorrow.
Ever since the visit from the Asturian merchant, Folken had concentrated on his military designs to the exclusion of his other studies. He told himself that it was a logical use of resources; Zaibach had more than enough engineers and sorcerors, but only Folken had the grasp of the emperor's scientific discoveries in mechanics and optics needed to create guymelefs that could fly and turn invisible. He didn't like to admit to himself that he was afraid to investigate destiny prognostication theory too closely in case his suspicions proved correct. 'The act of observation changes the thing observed.' So said the science book from the Mystic Moon. And yet Emperor Dornkirk's plan revolved around his ability to foresee his ideal future. If the emperor's reasoning were flawed, his plans for Zaibach were doomed and Folken's entire existence would be rendered pointless...No, best not to know. Just trust in Dornkirk and do your job. It was the only way to stay sane.
In a laboratory somewhere deep inside the imperial citadel, Garufo, Sorceror of the First Circle, inspected one of his most secret projects. Two adepts of the Second Circle stood nervously to attention beside an examination table.
'Is the prisoner ready for her next treatment?' Garufo asked.
The first sorceror bowed low.
'Yes, sir.'
'Good. And this time I expect your serum to work.'
The second sorceror, an enthusiastic young fellow from one of the far northern provinces, cleared his throat.
'We have it up to six months now, sir,' he said.
'That's not enough and you know it.' Garufo glared at him, and the young sorceror dropped his gaze to stare respectfully at the floor. 'I need her stable if we're going to achieve tangible results.'
'Yes, sir, of course, sir.'
'Good. Now begin the procedure.'
The first sorceror lifted the syringe up to the light and let a few drops of luminescent amber liquid trickle down the needle. Then he plunged the hypodermic into the prisoner's arm. She strained against the straps holding her down and screamed...
Folken entered the imperial chamber, his calm expression masking his disquiet. No matter how many times he came here, he could never get used to just how big the emperor's life-support machine was. Much larger than was strictly necessary, he suspected; as a man who relied on his own great height to enhance his aura of power, he could see through the tactic without being entirely immune to its effect.
He cleared his throat. The cough echoed around the vast chamber.
'You asked to see me, Lord Dornkirk.'
The emperor's voice drifted down, amplified by the chamber's acoustics.
'Yes, Folken. I wish you to go to the Asturian capital.'
Folken's heart sank. That was the last place on Gaea he wished to go. She was there; it would be near impossible to avoid her - or her leech of a father.
'To Palas? May I ask why?'
It was impossible to be certain of the emperor's expression at this distance, but he seemed to be smiling humourlessly.
'Rumours have reached my ears that King Aston has been getting...friendly with his neighbours in recent months. I feel he needs to be reminded who his real friends are.'
'With respect, my lord, I am a scientist, not a diplomat.'
'Nonsense, Folken. Why do you think I made you Strategos?'
'My guymelefs-'
'-are important, yes. But so are you. You are a prince, born and bred; it is your destiny to lead. Who better to go where I cannot, and be my representative?'
Folken bowed.
'I am honoured by your faith in me, my lord.'
There was a pause. Emperor Dornkirk leant forward and gazed into the huge telescope-like sights of the destiny prognostication engine, muttering to himself. Folken waited, wondering if he should say more. At last the emperor sat back.
'A show of strength is needed,' he said. 'You will take the new floating fortress.'
'The "Vione"? It is not finished, my lord. The Dragonslayers' quarters are still being excavated and the energist banks will not be ready to go online for at least another month-'
'Then make it your priority. I wish you to visit Asturia before spring. With the Dragonslayers.'
Folken bowed again.
'Yes, my lord.'
The young sorceror bowed low. He was not looking forward to breaking this piece of news to his superior.
'Well?' Garufo asked. 'You said you had an urgent report for me.'
'Y-yes, sir. It's the prisoner.' He swallowed hard. 'She's...she's fallen into a coma, sir.'
'What! You assured me you had the correct dosage!'
'I-I thought we did, sir-'
Garufo raised his hand threateningly. The young sorceror flinched.
'With respect, sir,' his colleague put in, 'the prisoner has proved most strong-willed. I believe she not only resisted our fate-alteration serum but somehow forced herself into unconsciousness. This alone merits further study.'
Garufo lowered his hand and looked thoughtful.
'Very well. But I want her kept alive at all costs. And report to me the moment she regains consciousness.'
'Yes, sir. Immediately, sir.'
Bowing low, the two sorcerors backed out of their master's presence and fled towards their laboratory.