Chapter 69: Red Diamonds
The Dominion had tried to investigate this place. And so Lady Volkihar had six new Dominion servants working hard at landscaping the front yard.
"Her Ladyship will be with you shortly. Is there anything I can bring to you while you wait, my lord?" asked the justiciar serving as the front room attendant. "Wine? Something to eat?"
"Coffee with sugar and milk, if you have it. If not, black tea."
"Black teas we do have, my lord. Smoked Pau, a light Darjuul, or an apple-flavored Goldenglow black tea?"
"The Goldenglow, please. You said you also had something to eat?"
"Sweet butter biscuits or a small fruitcake. I recommend the fruitcake. The biscuits, unfortunately, are on the stale side, being a month old and crumbly. Apologies. We also have some apples that are still quite crisp."
"Fruitcake is fine. Thank you."
After she brought his tea and fruitcake, the justiciar returned to mending linens. A large basket of linens. She didn't stink, her complexion was good, and her hands were deft — evidence she was alive and mind-controlled rather than a reanimated corpse. When he'd passed the six soldiers outside, he had heard them swearing and grumbling complaints and smelled the sweat of their bodies. Dead thralls couldn't do any of that.
"I thought the Legion was supposed to keep the Dominion ships away from my island," said Lady Volkihar, "But those showed up two weeks ago with instructions to scout my castle for weaknesses. And what is this belief they have that this coast is now Dominion territory?" she demanded.
"Well, there are talks of officially allowing the Dominion to have Northkeep for their port," said Curtis. "Sorry. Solitude is planning to build a large naval base. And to keep the Dominion happy — 'cuz they were pulling hard on Concordat cooperation — it was decided to officially give them Northkeep to build their own naval post."
"And what about my sovereignty as promised by treaty?" she demanded.
"Yeah, that's one of the reasons why I'm here."
"Let me guess — you are to convince me to allow a small spy post on my isle."
"Um, yeah."
"How many?"
"Is that a 'yes?'"
"I reserve the right to have the post commander replaced if he proves bothersome."
"I'll see what I can do. I hear you turned down General Tullius's invitations to talk."
"Surely he understands that meeting him will only confirm to the Dominion that I am an Empire loyalist, then I'll have more of these pests show up. If I start killing them, they'll justify a full attack. We both know neither Skyrim or the Legion will defend me."
"The Dragonborn would — if she was nearby at the time. But with her schedule… Yeah. Um, the ones you do have, aren't you afraid they'll be a problem?"
"No doubt, even though they are being used for simple manual labor and not as cattle. After another week, I will let them have their boat back.
"However, I am aware that without the Legion's presence, the Dominion will not hesitate to attack me in the name of securing the safety of their little port. So I am willing to let the Legion have a section of the castle and the dock at the back of the castle."
"Um…" Curtis glanced at the justiciar sitting in her corner doing her sewing.
"It's fine," insisted Lady Volkihar. "I'm willing to allow the Legion space to keep an eye on Northwatch. That is all. I will not be assisting them. You may also inform the Legion that they will be financially responsible for the renovation and upkeep of their section of my castle. The costs are not to be deducted from the rent."
"Sure, I'll tell General Tullius that. But you'll still have to talk to him about the rental amount."
She waved that aside. "And then there is the matter of Durnehviir. Please inform the Dragonborn before she leaves for Morrowind that I require her assistance to speak to that Dragon for his cooperation despite his obligations to the Perfect Masters. Some of it relates to the research I am doing for you."
"Does that mean you've found some people who can help?" asked Curtis. A while back, he'd asked her if she'd ever come across Falmer ancestors in the Soul Cairn. At that time, it was a negative.
"Not yet," she confessed. "But I might if Durnehviir could be convinced to help me."
"Okay. I'll talk to the Dragonborn." Curtis glanced at the justiciar. They really couldn't talk with her around. "I don't suppose there's any new data you can show me?"
"There are. I haven't yet organized the data. But if raw notes are fine, I'm happy to show them to you."
"Thank you." Curtis smiled widely, desperately hoping her "raw notes" weren't actively bleeding. Just in case… He felt his pocket for the bottle of menthol oil and the surgical mask he'd packed in preparation for coming to this place. Such a cheap trick couldn't completely cover the smell of decomposition, but an olfactory distraction was still a distraction.
He stayed three more days to help her summarize her current studies. They discussed the Falmer babe found in Markarth, the little throwback born with eyes and nose currently being raised by an Altmer nanny at the Sightless Pit location.
The throwback was nearing a year old. Physically, it was healthy. Mentally, compared to feral Falmer children, it kept up well enough. Compared to normal mer child development… well, only time will tell. But no getting around that the boy will need years of intense tutoring.
Curtis was the first to say he didn't know squat about child psychology and learning development. But he believed a child should know how to be street smart and book smart. Dangerous minds, dangerous minds — be thinking, always looking beyond the immediate world, in the grey zone, the intertidal zone of life, death, and potential. Asking a vampire, who was also a mother, for advice on child rearing and mental development, that be what it like.
Yeah, Lady Valerica did scare him because, as he'd expected, she wanted many blood, skin, and other deeply invasive samples from the babe. She also had ideas for cognitive tests for the children interacting with the mutant. Sociocultural adaptations — society making changes to accommodate the needs of the individual. Make no mistake, she was a monster. She had practical child-rearing advice, but her interest was purely clinical and entertained no emotional value. The mutant Falmer child was a fascinating specimen, precious only because of its rarity, and dissecting it would negate too many future studies to be worthwhile.
Nevertheless, her advice was good, and he'd see that they were implemented at the Sightless Pit once the caretakers had reviewed and processed the logic in them.
X—X—X—X—X—X—X
They may look like a pile of uncut rubies but these were heart stones from Red Mountain. Red Diamonds. Maybe not the Chim-el Adabal but of the same blood exploded from the beating heart of Lorkhan.
* The knife finally penetrated his back armor, sliding past spine and ribs. He coughed blood on the Heart. The last of the barriers caging the Heart collapsed under his hammer. Nerevar lunged forward, his knife striking the Heart three times and cut it free of this existence. The world went crimson. He felt his bleeding, faltering heart synchronizing with Lorkhan's. Then darkness. *
He selected two large pieces for shaping. These would power the Dwemer version of a CT-PET scanner he and Agrund installed in her lab. The smaller gems would be shaped for the scanning hoop and data processing boards. It was the first of its kind in this world and was built in the underground manufacturing facilities of Markarth. Agrund was constructing a second one to be installed at Winterhold for the Restorations department.
Curtis had no freakin' clue how his genius Dwemer managed to figure out the machine from the vague concepts and memories of the two experiences he'd had (pancreas and heart studies). This version wasn't the giant, room-filling equipment of his past world either. It was more of a thick hoop, table, and automated track. Add a little science-bending magic and the results were visual 3-D models that would drive any radiologist of his past world crazy with envy. He didn't quite understand the principles this scanner worked on. His task was to shape and install the heart stones per Agrund's instructions. Agrund would return later to instruct Lady Valerica how to use the machine.
Agrund could do this work faster, but Curtis had sent him to Solitude to give him a break from the grimness of Volkihar Castle. His people were scientists, but none had been involved in the dark side of medical sciences. Agrund's stoic nature wouldn't let him show how disturbed he was, but Curtis knew the mer deeply shaken from the nightmares on her dissection tables.
See, most people had the preconception that the Dwemer were all morally bankrupt mer because of what they did to the Falmer. Not really. If they were, then so was every army, every organizational entity, and every law-abiding civilization that ever existed. Be judged by the leaders you follow or allow to govern. That whole "evil exists when the good do nothing." The Dwemer kings had made some bad decisions. He was no exception.
Living underground, in the dark, you had to trust your superiors to know what they were doing when they ordered you into the lightless voids within the earth where water, air, and space to move could not be taken for granted. That takes a special kind of idiocy of blind faith. Bees, ants, termites, military forces — individuality was sacrificed for the good of the colony/colony/country. It was a sensible survival trait bred into generations of deep-earth dwellers. Goof off topside all you want, but once back home, fall in line and stick to orders.
The revived Dwemer obeyed him despite being his intellectual superiors. He flattered himself that it was because he was too stupid to know what was impossible in their eyes and because Jhunal, a god they'd come to believe in, had presented Curtis as their guide to the future.
Sometimes, he was sick to his stomach to be saddled with that responsibility. All he could do was work doubly hard not to let them down. But even with his best intentions, his hands weren't clean of blood.
The heart stones were shaped and polished to beautiful red gems glowing with an inner light of power, the stored essence of a dead god. Magicka uranium. Half-life, unknown. He installed them into the machine and ran a test with a fish. The fish didn't get cooked, so initial scanning seemed a success.
The results table projected a 3D hologram of the scan. Randomly touching control gems and manipulating the roller-ball mouse of the control pad could zoom in or out, do layer stripping, and other visual stuff. There were other data-rendering functions, but Agrund would custom-program those according to Lady Valerica's needs.
Now that that was done, he wandered into the lady's private garden of beautiful but poisonous plants. The giant sundial centerpiece was shifted, revealing stairs to a hidden laboratory. In that lab was a gate to the Soul Cairn. While curious, he didn't feel like investigating down there. He'd gotten the whole story of the Dragonborn's excursion into the Soul Cairn from Lady Serana. He leaned against the sundial and contemplated the barren world over there. A hellscape "perfect in death," ruled by self-named "Perfect Masters." They were mad. An unfunny madness nowhere near the perfect insanity of Sheogorath and nothing like the infamous perfection of the Crystal Prince Jyggalag.
Lady Valerica was risking a lot to keep going back to that world. And since part of her reasons was to find answers to the Snowmer's future, he felt obliged to think of a way to ensure her safety while she was there.
Set phasers to destroy. He had already invented an ultrasonic gun that shattered dragon scales and crystals. Combine it with some kind of energy beam? Ruby lasers use synthetic ruby rods for energy gain. What if a heart stone was used? What kind of power gain could be had from that? He suspected it would be more than just a simple laser. Could channeling through Lorkhan's blood crystal destroy or "transmigrate" a soul to another dimension? He'd present the idea to Agrund.
Related story(s): #30 Hello Darkness; #37 Shout and Sing; #41 Gardener of Mer; #63 Ancient Knowledge p.4