Chapter 63: Ancient Knowledge, p.4
He had been at Avanchnzel. Putting his hands on the Lexicon to offer up his knowledge resulted in a long montage of his soul's journey between life as Dumac to now — nearly 5000 years of Earth history, from smelting bronze chips to steel towers. He couldn't recall the exact details. It was hundreds of lives, after all, a lot of experiences. Too many names, too many problems — but he remembered instances of love and laughter. Precious anchor points in the long climb.
It was strangely quiet in his mind. Dumac's sorrowing shadow was gone. The closet was empty. Ah, wait, no — Slitter was sitting quietly in a corner and flipping through a comic book: Birth of the Earth — A Cartoon History of the Earth (recommended reading age 8–12).
"What happened?" he asked.
Slitter looked sideways at him. **You talking to me?**
"Somebody else 'sides you here?"
**I don't know. You and Dumac wouldn't shut up for days. And when Dumac finally took himself off, you still kept talking.**
"Huh. Did we say anything important?"
**I guess.** Slitter looked faintly amused. **You should be happy. He's finally gone. And you've got all his powers and know-how.**
That took Curtis aback. He thought about the cluster of gems powering a transporter model. He could now see formulae and spell diagrams to control and shape power to a particular function. He was now grasping the hitherto arcane knowledge of this reality's physics.
He grinned. Finally! He could start contributing more than just sales presentations.
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
Vivec had gone into a deep sleep when the Lexicon had downloaded its contents into his mind. Elden had firmly suggested that everyone go to Goldenglow Estate. That was a Felix kin property, and they would be assured safety and hospitality there.
Flora Felix owned the estate, and her husband, Julius Barrius Victor, owned Fort Wolfden, known previously as Faldor's Tooth, the home base of his small company of mercenaries that had followed him from Colovia. The company had grown, taking in ex-Legion Nords whose birthplace and families were in Stormcloak lands.
As Elden had said, the Winterhold party was unquestionably welcomed there and given rooms and time to recover. While Curtis and Vivec slept, Drilira returned to Winterhold. Drevis and healers loaned from the mercenaries attended Curtis and Vivec; Arniel studied all the notes he'd taken of Avanchnzel; and Elden enjoyed the warm spring and leisurely explored the area.
In the Second Era, Goldenglow had been the Isle of Gold or Skald's Retreat, where a young Eastmarch prince studied music. That prince would later become King Jorunn, also known as the Skald King, and his voice would lead the Ebonheart Pact. The Isle of Gold ended when someone found and sang a forbidden song that opened the door to Daedric Prince Vaermina's Quagmire. An unnamed hero rescued the bards, but the Isle was never the same afterward as the bards left and never returned.
Flora had a book of the history of her estate compiled from various history books and local tales. She also had magically preserved old song scraps, scrolls, and instrument pieces buried in the foundation and discovered during recent renovations. The remains of a wayshrine were found on a small islet nearby. Much to the family's disappointment, power no longer went to it. Not that Lake Honrich didn't have a strong power current running through it, but the current had shifted. If one wanted to build a new shrine, the best spot had shifted northward to a tiny islet scarcely five feet in diameter. Flora had placed a small shrine to Jhunal there, saying the other two family gods, Zenithar and Akatosh, didn't seem appropriate for the spot.
Curtis slept for two days compiling all the lives from Dumac to his present existence. He then spent the next day listening to voice messages and returning calls. After that, Elden rowed him over to Jhunal's shrine.
"You ain't a fishing owl, so I don't know what you're doing in the middle of a lake. But it's a nice spot," he told the Atmoran god. He tossed two cheese cubes into the water and grinned to see two slaughterfish charge up to claim the cubes. Elden floated a few feet away, lightly napping on the boat with a fishing pole tucked between his arm and body.
Early spring in The Rift. Very pretty. This little spot had easy views of Goldenglow, Wolfden, and Riften. And it was far enough from Riften that one couldn't smell the sewage. A real pity the jarl continued to ignore Curtis's suggestions about proper sewage treatment.
This little shrine had Jhunal perched on a rim of a bowl of water instead of a Julianos's pyramid.
Curtis wasn't sure a birdbath was an improvement over a pyramid. Maybe he should add some tentacles to the bottom of the bowl?
"Vivec's still sleeping. I don't suppose Vivec's wandered your way yet?" he asked the god. "Stuffed to the gills with Dwemer knowledge, I hope he can use it. Or maybe you're already talking to him? Now that you're running Apocrypha, you aren't obliged to hold to the deals made with Clockwork. Not that I know what was contracted. That was never explained, not even in my old world. I mean, we know he managed a non-interference pact of some sort. No details, though. And even less of what he promised in exchange. I get the impression he didn't even tell Almalexia or Vivec the full deal, and they never pushed to know. I could be wrong.
"I guess I'm fishing here because Vivec ain't a god no more; he said he's still got some powers, but I'm betting it's no better than a mortal's. A spellsword of sorts. So, um, could you maybe watch out for him? Give him some hints? I'm asking because I really do wanna see Vvardenfell recover. Me and Severus, we still love the place even if we never go back." Curtis sighed and poked a finger into the bowl to stir the water. A feather floated down from somewhere and swirled in the center of the whirlpool he'd created. He looked up. A flock of pigeons. "But I can see living there a few decades for work."
He spent the next three days floating, half-assessed fishing, and dreaming. Drilira was soon to return to test his assimilation of Dumac's knowledge. Balvus and Irdal would be coming with her for a dream-time assessment of Curtis's and Slitter's mental health status.
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
"Your acquisition and utilization of technical knowledge is verified," said Drilira with immense satisfaction. "Your rebuild of that dynamo core was flawless as were your re-etching and recharging of core runes. Your written test scores confirm a master-level technical knowledge."
"Great!" Curtis sighed and let his head drop back against the top of his chair. "Great. I can finally stop feeling like a freaking useless tag-along impostor."
"My lord, that's not—"
"You know how hard it's been for me to keep piling a shit-ton of projects on you guys while not being able to carry the work? Crap. I felt like crap. Like the worst type of boss who keeps bringing in projects with impossible deadlines and then takes all the credit for being the techno-genius of the era."
"Of course, my lord." The Dwemer woman smiled faintly like a mother patiently listening to an out-of-sorts child's rants.
"'Course, it's still all Dumac's technical knowledge and skills, and so it's not really all mine," Curtis admitted with a dour sigh, "but at least it's finally integrated." He sighed again and scratched his head. "That's all that I needed," he told himself. "At least it'll stop glitching out on me mid-project like in the past, which forced me to pull you guys off your projects to save my butt. That's a good thing, yeah. It's what I wanted." He looked up as Drilira slapped the table in front of him. Her expression was stern.
"I am sorry you've felt this way. The work you give us is largely interesting, challenging, and, for the most part, satisfying. We have never considered you dead weight. To us, you are the champion of apocryphal knowledge. You fight to keep knowledge accessible to seekers. You guide us through a dark, unknown forest, showing us wonders we never would have realized while defending us from predators we cannot see." She smiled now, very amused.
"We trail behind you like bewildered children. For every question we have, you pull down another tome, magazine, comic book, info disk, or video and happily toss it upon us. And should we feel overwhelmed, you talk us through our fears and uncertainties. You may denigrate yourself and say your constant chatter is just 'B.S.' However, to our ears, it is a useful desensitizing tool that leads us along despite our doubts.
"We were not unaware of your personal dissatisfaction with your own skill levels. We have been in your mind and dreams, after all. However, your skills and majicka now match your ambition. A little fine-tuning is all that's needed.
"Put aside these false feelings of inadequacy and theft. You do not steal our labor. You are, in fact, the mighty engine that pulls our train, the dynamo core of our progress. I can confidently speak for my fellow Dwemer and state we would be lost to despair without your leadership. We are in awe of your ability to keep a company — and in this, I include the Snowmer — as strange as ours marching forward. Your ambitions, your visions, are greater than anything we, cumulatively, could have ever imagined.
"Now, let me state this: Dumac was an impressive mer and king of his time. His accomplishments as a warrior and diplomat are to be remembered and respected. However, in our eyes, as an engineer, he was nothing special. Yourself has realized that he lacked technological creativity, curiosity, and the drive toward innovation.
"As we see it, Dumac was not chosen by Jhunal to be his champion. You, my lord, are the one Jhunal chose to bring back to Tamriel. You, Curtis. The latest incarnation of Dumac. As we see it, the Dwemer race ended with Dumac. With your return to Tamriel, we return, albeit with great changes.
"You are our window to the future. Buggy as hell as the latest compilation of many regenerations, but sufficient to build an enterprise on. 'Chief Engineer of the Starship Enterprise' — was that not your most cherished dream? Maybe, as you hope, there is a future captain out there who will show up. But until then, the Chief Engineer runs the ship and keeps it running despite adversity. It's a broken and floundering vessel. What is needed right now is you, Curtis. Saving the ship is the priority. Every great leap forward is founded upon a stable foundation. Right now, we need stability and the drive to create a foundation.
"Please, Curtis, stop putting yourself down. The rest of us are happy to put our heads down and keep crawling through the ducts because we trust our champion's strength and vision, not to mention your inexhaustible chatter to keep us informed of our progress and the world."
Curtis squirmed in his seat, in equal parts comforted and embarrassed. "Yeah. Okay. Sorry 'bout that. I'll just say that Dumac hasn't reappeared. I guess that means his program has finally been terminated. It's just me and Slitter in this body."
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
Curtis handed Vivec a cup of warm kwama consomme.
"How'd shakedown go?" he asked casually.
"Shakedown? Ah, yes, I see. I'm still sane." Vivec's eyelids fluttered closed as he drank. Two weeks in a coma. "Delicious. It's been longer than I can remember that I'd appreciated the simple taste of kwama. When one becomes god, even the best mortal foods taste no better than dirt."
"Mm. I'd read hypersensitivity was something of a side effect of artificial godhood," commented Curtis. "Now, how 'bout the Dwemer STEM you absorbed?"
"'Science, technology, engineering, and mathematics' — still assimilating." He held his cup out for a refill, and Curtis refilled it from the teapot. "The arrogance of the Dwemer is as I thought."
"Oh? How so?"
"The ability to change their living space with their own hands. I've also seen your world, Curtis, through your eyes. How incredibly arrogant. Unchecked by gods or other races, I wonder if your world will pull back from its inevitable fall into Oblivion."
"I can only hope. Wait. My eyes? You mean my memories were part of your upload? Me and Dumac, or just me?"
"Dumac's memories were not taken. Yours passed the parameters for 'theoretical excellence.' I do not fully understand why because your understanding of your past world's technologies seems superficial. You might ask Architect Kadahk why the Lexicon admitted only your memories."
"Huh. Maybe I will someday. But Vvardenfell. Do you think you can handle it?"
"It's possible." Vivec set his cup aside and laid back down. He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. "I will need a lot of equipment. Not just for me but for the dreamers gathered to help me. They've all come to Windhelm in response to letters sent months ago. The Lost Children of the Ash born in Skyrim or the Empire. They grew up on the tales of their Ashlander parents. That is why I was so insistent to accompany you on this trip, because when I met them, I realized who sent for me."
"Letters? Oh, man. Lord Revyn, the Sleeping Prophet, strikes again. So, uh, who was it that actually asked you to come to Skyrim?"
Vivec smiled an odd, twisted expression. "Ambarys Rendar. Repayment of a debt owed to him. But the ones who sent him to me weren't the three Daedra — I would have ignored them. Not your Owl god because I do not know it."
"Uh-huh. So you don't know still." Vivec didn't contradict him. Curtis shrugged. "Okay. I'll be glad to help with equipment and some training."
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