23 – A Black Door

The Agency rightfully focuses its relic control initiatives on Thaumocracy relics. Relics of the last years before the Empress’ Fall are immensely dangerous and sought over by the faction, since they can be used - but not recreated by modern mages.

Precursor relics are often considered less dangerous, or even quirky curiosities. Most, after all, don’t possess any magical features beside their materials. Those who can produce magical effects are usually of limited utility, and minuscule power.

And yet, the Precursors’ legacy caused the Moonbreaking. The one thing we know of their civilization, human or alien, is that they utterly disappeared.

No knowledge is worth such a risk. There can be no logical course of action but destroying every precursor ruin and every artifact.

* ThauCon strategic committee, recommendations for the OWA parliament

The day after the attack in Valanes, the sun shines in a cloudless sky and there’s no news of further disasters. Yesterday’s fears - of worldwide war, of betrayal inside our base - seem less pressing.

There’s no mage revolt, yet - I believe one will come, in a decade at most, but it doesn’t look like we’re there yet. And Captain Meirres is nothing but an old pencil-pusher. If she lied when she gave us our orders, it was probably because to cover up some of her own negligence.

That said, it’s never bad to put some extra effort into our duty. Especially since I have to make up for my colleagues’ sloppiness. So I triple-check my equipment, and pester the rest of the team until they do the same.

“It will be so boring,” Kaelich groans, as we ride the tube to the University, together with Team Green. “LT Sareas said we must show professionalism, so we can’t play games or watch movies. We must stand there all the time and watch boring people do boring stuff in a boring place.”

“You have implants, can’t you run a sim?” Althea points out - she’s grumpy, squinting like she has a hangover. “An immersive one would blind you, but can’t you use them to read?”

“Reading is even more boring than guard duty,” Kaelich says, then xe becomes more serious. “And anyway, I guess I should try to be attentive.”

“The archeology they’re doing seems interesting,” I point out, “they’re excavating a new level of the ruins below the University. We’ll be the first people in millennia to see whatever they dig up.”

Kaelich rolls xir eyes. “I can’t think of anything less interesting than ruins,” xe says, “they’re everywhere here. Maybe you don’t have that many in Zelenia, but I swear, we did a thousand trips to Thaumocracy sites during high-school.”

“These aren’t Thaumocracy ruins, you ignorant goat,” Sorivel grumbles. “These are Precursor ruins. You know, the kind the Officers specifically told us to leave underground, but apparently we just can’t help ourselves.”

“I’m not of your faith,” Gehat says, “but I agree those things are creepy. I’d prefer them left underground, too.”

I bite my tongue before I launch on a tirade on the importance of understanding the nature of Precursor relics, and the fascinating conundrum they pose. With the current guidelines, there’s no realistic risk of accidental activation anyway.

But there’s no point arguing. We’ll see the ruins in any case, so there’s no reason to remind my teammates that they are, in fact, ignorant goats. I’m getting really good at being diplomatic.

The tunnel veers sharply up, and our private capsule starts braking as we approach the University stop.

“Corporal Kaelich, you do all the talking,” says Gehat, who has field command. “I hate nerds, so the less I talk to them, the better. And for some reason, everybody likes you.”

“Mission control here,” Aeniki says through our headphones, making me jump - I didn’t realize she was already in the channel. “Relevant context: Sergeant Gehat dislikes nerds because of her own embarrassing academic record. She failed med school admissions.”

“How do you even- Moonbreaker, who cares,” Gehat says, rolling her eyes. “Let’s focus on doing our job.”

I should spend some time with Aeniki. She’s unfriendly and reclusive, but so am I, according to most people. And if she’s half as good a hacker as everybody believes, she could be a real asset.

“I still think we should wear armor,” I say. “What good will we do in uniform, if we really end up facing a mage?”

“Civilians don’t like having armored soldiers around,” Kaelich says, as if that mattered in any way. “And if a mage comes, no worry, I shoot and you stab.”

The carriage doors slide open, revealing a large station, crowded with young people. The ground floor is for platforms, but there’s a whole upper level packed with shops and cafés. The University stop is also a vac-train station, and since it’s on the top of a hill, there’s a nice view over the whole city.

People stare at us as we walk through the station. I used to hate the way civilians shirk away from us, but I’m starting to enjoy the elbow room.

We exit into the large square. Despite the freezing cold, it’s packed with people, mostly disheveled kids with bags full of paper books. Lining the square are the pretentious, dark buildings of the University.

They make a striking contrast with the sleek steel-and-glass train station, with their stone walls lined with the grim statues of long dead professors.

“I meant to go to university before I broke the Veil,” Althea says, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. Her eyes follow the porticos connecting the buildings. Their black columns would be elegant and somber, but the effect is spoiled by the mass of students who cling to them like pasty, lazy barnacles.

“You could have gone to university,” Sorivel says, reproachful, “you’d just have needed some tattoos.”

Althea laughs.

“And you think I’d give up magic, and the Council, in exchange for five years of being lectured by old people? No thanks,” she says. “I wish I could have had both, though.”

“My parents saved up to make me study law,” Kaelich says, cheerful. “A pity I turned out dense as a brick. Why didn’t you study though, Cerical? You’re all kinds of smart.”

I bite down my annoyance. “It wasn’t an option,” I say. “The university in Ter Valentis closed with the war, and never reopened. My family barely had money to eat, let alone pay for my education.”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

I methodically researched every possible scholarship, as a teen. But my country is spiraling into ruin, and barely has any education system left. Few countries offer scholarships to foreign citizens, and the only way to get the Alliance itself to pay for my education was to enlist.

Not that I liked the idea of attending university that much. I’m good at studying, but I see it as a means to an end. Once I realized that I could have enrolled in ThauCon, Officer School was a much more attractive option - a pity I blew it.

Kaelich blushes a little, like xe does when xe remembers that xe had a privileged life compared to Sorivel and I. Not that the lesson ever seems to stick.

As we walk into the University’s main building, the crowd of students parts at our passage. Some kids look hostile, a few cheer for us, but most just look curious. I wonder if they’ll feel safer with us guarding the ruins. Probably not – civilians never think they need us, until a demon tries to eat their face.

The atrium is a vast room with a glass roof, and its walls are lined by yet more statues. It would be impressive and elegant, except it’s a fucking mess.

Every square centimeter of the walls is covered in posters with bizarre titles like EXPLORING THAUMIC META-FREQUENCIES IN TOPOLOGICALLY COMPLEX RELICS. There are screens hanging from the ceiling, giving directions for classes, seminars, mess halls, and for some reason a Luminarist religious function.

There are small tables just scattered randomly across the hall, and students sit by them to eat disgusting fried insects while reading books, and touching the pages with oily fingers. Abyss, that should be a capital crime.

Of the hundreds of young people in the atrium, most are just lazing around and talking way too loudly - don’t they have to study or something? I guess if they weren’t spoiled rich brats, they’d study something less frivolous than Precursor history.

“Let’s stand here and look cool,” Kaelich says, “a professor should come to meet us.”

Lady of Pains, do we have to wait here? I hate being surrounded by so many people, especially without my armor. How could I keep an eye on everyone? If anything happens, we’d be very exposed, and there would be civilians everywhere. More students are coming, clearly staring at us – fuck, they’re calling their friends to look at us. Seriously, don’t they have some studying to do?

The throng of people, the loud conversation, weigh over me like a physical pressure. I take a deep breath, and a slow exhale. I really hope the ruins won’t be anywhere as crowded.

As I’m starting to get really anxious, a smiling old woman approaches us, followed by a surly young man with incredibly frivolous blue hair.

They’re both dressed in thermal clothes - the woman wears a ridiculously puffy coat and very thick mittens. Everything about her screams professor, especially the old-fashioned physical glasses. She doesn’t have implants nor a public datasphere profile. She has a tattoo on her forehead, the black kind that works well over Vorokans’ white skin, but I’m not sure what it says - scholar, maybe?

Why doesn’t everyone get a public profile? We could avoid so much small talk, that way.

“Professor Adavert?” Kaelich asks, offering xir hand in greeting. “I’m Corporal Kaelich Anur. We’re the security detail for the archeological team.”

“Nice to meet you, young… sorry, I mean Corporal,” the woman says, beaming. “We’re so happy that your Agency could spare its precious manpower for us! You see, without your protection we couldn’t go on with the excavation, there are so many new regulations after the horrific events in Valanes. And that wouldn’t do at all! There’s just so much work scheduled for this semester!”

She raises her hands dramatically, talking so quickly I have no idea how she could be breathing.

“Anyway,” she adds, “we’ll show you the facilities. Will you need anything from us? Just let us know, we’re eager to help! And we must get you an authorization for free food and drinks, of course! It just wouldn’t do, to leave you hungry while you protect us! Wait, where are my manners! You’re coming from the outside, would you like a warm cup of tea, before we begin?”

Some civilians prattle nervously as they talk to us, but she doesn’t look nervous. She’s smiling warmly, sounding like my grandmother when she worries I’m not eating enough. On the other hand, her teaching assistant, or whatever the young man is, has been glaring at us all the time.

“Some tea would be nice,” Kaelich says, “we’ll need some time to discuss your timetables and procedures anyway. Also, we’d like to talk with whoever handles security for the university – you have cameras and private guards, right?”

“Wait a second, prof,” her assistant says. “There’s an inconsistency.”

He’s short and wiry, and his shoulder-length hair is dyed blue like some edgy teenager. He doesn’t have any facial tattoos, and may the Lady of Pains curse me for hypocrisy, I’m starting to find that rude.

At least he has implants, and a public profile.

—-------------------------

NAME: Semejon Etter

AGE: 24

GENDER: M

OCCUPATION: Graduate student at RU, department of Precursor Archaeology

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: BUSY WRITING MY THESIS

LOOKING FOR: PEER REVIEWS

INTEREST: I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THOSE

BIO: VOIGT-LEVISTAN CHRONOLOGY IS WRONG, I’LL FIGHT YOU OVER THIS

—----------------------

This one will be a huge pain in the ass. I fully expect he’ll behave like the scientists in Kaelich’s stupid TV shows, which keep ignoring the heroes’ warnings and accidentally summon demons twice per week.

“What’s the problem?” Kaelich asks. Xe looks at the grad student with surprising intensity - is xe worried he’ll cause problems, too?

“The Agency notified us they’d send six agents,” the young man says, his eyes lingering over Althea and Jaeleri. “But there was no mention of Council mages. We have no official authorization for their presence here.”

Jaeleri, who didn’t say a single word since we left the base, rolls his eyes and mutters something.

“Oh, it’s a bureaucratic mishap, not the first time it happens,” Kaelich says, with a wide smile. “See, they’re not, err, technically part of the Agency. So they weren’t mentioned in the brief. Didn’t the Council send you a separate notice?”

“Hm,” the young man’s eyes go glassy as he checks his implants. “Nothing. Unless they wrote to the university administration and no one thought to inform us. Anyway, it’s not something we can gloss over. There are strict regulations about allowing mages near precursor relics.”

From his tone, he'd prefer to keep all of us out of his precious ruins. I feel the tiniest bit disappointed - I was hoping for a chance to chat with the archeologists, but he’s clearly unfriendly.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Semi,” the professor says, chuckling. “I’m sure we can sort out the bureaucracy in my office, with warm tea. Please, please, come in!”

“It looks like the Council failed to notify the University,” Aeniki says through our helmets. “It’s strange, because there’s an automatic procedure for it. I guess their code is shit. Why is everyone so bad at everything? I can forge the request if you want.”

“No!” Kaelich says, and the professor frowns. “Uhm, sorry, I was talking to mission control,” xe adds, ever more awkwardly. “Anyway, tea would be lovely! Can you make sure that the appropriate documents are sent, Specialist Corporal? In the regular way, of course? Thanks.”

The TA stares homicidally at Kaelich, but says nothing, and follows the professor inside.

“I have such a bad feeling about this,” Sorivel says, his voice low.

“She’s not going to quiz us, right?” Kaelich adds, genuine anxiety in xir voice.

“I’m more worried blue-hair will poison our cups,” Althea whispers.

***