Under a circular crystalline dome, minuscule gears moved in strange patterns, arranging themselves in clusters, or dashing in various directions, moved by thin particles of light. When grouped, they formed abstract shapes or silhouettes of human organs and body parts. Several men, wearing the grey and orange uniforms of the Department of Whispers were monitoring the movements, working at three large panels situated in a triangle shape around the device.
Through the trapezoid glass top of the room, the night's lights could be seen. The whole room could rotate, being able to align the central dome with the movements of the stars outside. And for those working the network, it was no trivial matter. Each movement could make the difference between a life lived in dark obscurity, or one of progress.
"Adjust your bearings!" shouted a middle-aged man, his fingers tracing lines on a metal plate. "The dates are all mixed up. I need those gears aligned before I can make any calculations."
At the three guiding stations, activities were fervent, each man trying their best to trace the patterns of the gears. With rapid movements of their fingers, they drew lines on semicircular plates made of metal with a gold-copper shine. Each plate could memorize the lines, then repeat them at incredible speed, causing the gears to change position. And with each movement, a detailed image began to emerge on a larger, central plate.
"I said to adjust!' the command was repeated. "Add more energy! And connect the remaining four imperms."
"Sir, we do that and the whole imprint could be compromised!" replied a technician, his voice almost drowned by the shouts of protest echoing around the room.
"No one asked your opinion! Now do it!"
It made no difference. The gears were now spinning out of control, making whistling sounds that echoed in the chamber and made the glass top vibrate. With frenzied movements and bulging eyes, the technicians worked with the speed that imminent death infused into a man.
"Imperms fully charged!" shouted a woman, cleaning her brow of sweat. "This should destabilize things. Endren, how are things on your end?"
The man turned to face the now fully formed image. It was mostly complete. Formed of dot-sized particles, overlapping and mixing in precise detail. His face showed a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Imprinting was a delicate science, and while he had done this a hundred times before, each one had its trials and tribulations.
"Almost done here. Keep the energy stable, and we should be done in a few minutes."
His hands felt shaky, and he had to control the urge to leave. Things were getting out of hand. The work still needed to be done, but he didn't have the urge to be remembered as having died while imprinting the future heir.
The unearthly wail of the gears forced everyone to cover their ears. The glass top began reverberating, and Endren could see cracks appearing on its surface. The central dome began taking an orange glow, mimicking the radiance of the Third Light above them. The image, previously well defined, began unraveling, much like a carpet torn to shreds by sheers. With a mad dash, he rushed to one of the panels, and scrambled his fingers across the surface, trying to prevent what was becoming inevitable.
"Close the defense walls!" he shouted.
"B...but the Third Light. We need it to finish!"
"Leave only the cone open. Just two minutes more! That's all I need."
Thick metal sheets began to rise from the edges of the walls, hiding the glass ceiling under their weight. Fragments of glass were starting to fall into the room, and the men inside were doing all they could to remain at their stations. The chamber was now illuminated by the light of the equipment, and by a narrow, octagonal beam that streamed through the only visible part of the glass roof.
"Keep it together, we're almost done!"
Cursing under his breath, Endren came to one of the plates. The adjustments were sure enough, correct. The gears, however, seemed to act independently of the commands given. Pushing his colleague aside, Endren placed both hands on the panel, fingers moving at rapid speed. His face drowned in sweat, and he sensed himself losing focus. The men in the other two panels were now mimicking his movements, and the lines began to converge again. The body shape stabilized, and with one final push, the gears wound down, returning to their natural speed.
"Damn all of these interruptions! If you can't navigate the Canopy, you have no business being here!" shouted Endren
"It's not their fault. You saw it yourself. The Third Light was interfering with the process."
"It's just a star, Odon. It can't interfere with anything. Let them take responsibility for a change."
The only woman in the room left her station and began heading for the door. Her face showed everything that she couldn't say openly.
"If you can't see there's a problem here, then you're blind!"
"And if you think that you can leave in the middle of a project, consider yourself out of this department," replied Endren calmly.
The woman never bothered to give a reply. She simply walked out of the room, her footsteps vanishing into the vast expanse of the building. The rest of the technicians returned to their stations, finishing the remaining processes. The events had shaken them, but they managed to remain focused on the task at hand.
"Odon, how long has this been going on?"
"For a few days now. We didn't pay much attention at first, since it made no difference. But ever since this morning, we couldn't get anything done properly."
Both men looked up. The Third Light had positioned itself right above them, bathing the room in its unnatural orange shine. Endren looked at the celestial body with a mixture of anger and wonder. While he had devoted significant time to its study, the meaning of it still eluded him. And it was in moments like this that he hated stepping into the unknown.
"The queen expects my imprint no later than tomorrow morning. Can I take what we have now and present it?"
His voice was both menacing and desperate. At this stage of the pregnancy, any mistake could cost him dearly. He walked together with the other technician to the full body imprint. It was now fully complete, the image of an athletic man, consisting of small dots that mixed and connected, overlapping and joining in microscopic details.
"So, this is our future king" exclaimed Odon.
"Assuming all goes well. Do we have a fixed day of birth?"
"Physically speaking, her majesty should give birth in ten days. But I think we should extend it to Midsummer. It's a perfect moment."
"It's also five weeks away. We've already delayed the birth enough as it is, more could be a hazard."
"And there are no ways to remedy that?"
"The medicines we've been giving her so far have been effective. The problem is, excessive use can lead to sterility," replied Endren with a wave of his hand.
Odon ran his hand through his already graying hair. Having worked for the department for more than two decades, he had seen his fair share of mysteries. The Canopy was in a league of its own, however. The ability to alter the genes of a fetus by tapping into...whatever it was that powered the machines in this room was both fascinating and frightening.
Endren finished transferring the projection onto graphen, then went to join his colleague. The machines in the room powered down, leaving them in silence. With the rest of the technicians gone, the room had become more open and inviting to free conversation.
"Hand me both projection plates. I'll need them for tomorrow. Oh, and don't forget to verbally preserve the data. We may need it later on." said Endren with a yawn.
"I'll do that tomorrow. It may take some time, and to be honest, I'm ready to head to bed.
The two men had their way of celebrating. Having worked together for over twenty years, both in a position of leadership and as lead, any finished projection had its special magic. And strangely, they also considered themselves fathers. Despite neither of them having children, every creation thrust them into the position of creators of life. Looking at the imprint, Odon felt none of that. The ties were unnatural, and while his orders were specific, his mind still held a protest.
"Nothing but the best for a queen, right?" pondered Odon out loud.
"I didn't think you for a salesman, my friend. Still, you do have a point. Just look at these readings: five foot seven estimated hundred and eighty pounds at full maturity, sharp jaw, black hair. Certainly what you would call a monarch. Perfect to rule. Perfect to lead."
"You're starting to sound like those freaks from Department Nine."
"They only deal with the flesh." grinned Endren. "We, on the other hand, make life from nothing. Let them be slaves to the rejects of this world. We...we are the future. And the work of our hands will ensure ever greater knowledge."
"I think the word you're looking for is conquest and power," replied Odon.
"That was the queen's option, not mine."
"But it was your option to obey. Look at these lines. There are no connections of empathy or even emotional love. We've given him mental fortitude, cunning, perseverance, and self-confidence, but no emotional ties to others."
"And that worries you so much?"
"Having a king without any love? Yes, you better believe it does!"
Endren gave no reply, and Odon realized he was thinking the same thing. A few seconds later, he broke the silence.
"We have a king who loves. Perhaps more than he should."
"Interesting way of seeing love, my friend."
"Love is a verb, not an adjective" replied Endren, his eyes cold and piercing. "Which is why I have no interest in pillow talk. A king is only as good as what he does. Emotions just get in the way."
"So...if let's just say, he decides to kill without discrimination, you would be prepared to take responsibility for that?"
"I have the queen's permission. She knows what would be best, and to be frank, we have enough mistoa as it is. A king who would be willing to burn the weeds is more than welcomed in my opinion."
The other man stood in perplexed silence. Even when working under Odon, Endren had shown bizarre tendencies when it came to the emotional and mental orientation of the children projected under him. Most of them had good leadership traits, the very things nobles desired, but empathy had never been a high priority for him. Several noble houses, which had previously never had any quarrel, had been forced into bloody feuds by their offspring, forcing the crown to intervene. Multiple skirmishes in the hinterlands made for bad policies, especially when the army was needed to keep the southern borders secure.
Having received the imprinted plated, Endren placed them into a round container, stamped with the Magisterium's seal. The timegazer already had two lit crystals, with a third nearly half-full.
"I think we've done enough for today," said Endren, heading for the door of the chamber. "Wish me luck for tomorrow."
Under normal circumstances, men working in the leadership of the Department of Whispers had clearance for most of the palace, but even Endren had to present his signet before entering the twenty-one-foot-long corridor that lead to the royal office. Soldiers armed with short swords and farik muskets stood at attention every three feet, and the door itself was reinforced with metal struts designed to withstand energy blasts.
"I'm expected. Allow me to enter." he addressed the single aid that stood by the double doors.
The man responded with a short bow, then pressed the handle. The door opened slowly, the man's arms not being strong enough to open it in one motion. Endren entered, keeping his eyes on the floor, and only when he heard the sound of the door closing, did he dare to look forward.
Queen Jern sat at her mahogany work desk, eyes moving in rapid succession from paper to paper, her coral lips portraying, the occasional smile. The only acknowledgment of his presence from her was a raised finger, and Endren felt content with even that much. From his position, he could see her swollen abdomen, clearly visible through the loose powder blue dress she was wearing. To her left, stood a man wearing an ornate black shirt and matching pants, with gold badges on each shoulder. They spoke in whispers, looking over documents.
Minutes passed, as document after document passed through the queen's hand. Her eyes read at a pace that couldn't have been normal, while her fingers rushed to fill in dates and signatures. Pieces of paper that had the weight of law once the proper words were scribbled on them, pondered Endren, thinking of all the things that went on in this office. He felt a tinge of jealousy. His work gave him power over the unknown, but it was still something he couldn't fully grasp. This, however, was real. Tangible.
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The stylus was finally placed on the desk, and the queen looked at him directly for the first time that day. Their eyes met in full force before Endren realized his position and bowed. The metal case shook in his left hand.
"Is that all we have to deal with, Anis?"
"Yes, your Highness" replied the Warden, stacking the documents in a neat pile. "And besides, I think we've ignored our guest quite enough."
Both look at Endren, and the man stepped forward, almost tripping on his shoes. The older man gave him a genuinely friendly smile, pointing to one of the chairs placed on the other side of the desk.
"Thank you for receiving me, Majesty." stammered the researcher.
"It's hardly a reception...what was your name again?"
"E...Endren...Majesty..."
"Don't consider yourself royalty just yet" laughed the queen. "And besides, this meeting was long overdue. Tell me, does it usually take this long to..."
"N..no, of course not!" interjected the man, before catching his mistake.
"...deliver results?" continued the monarch. "Your insufferable drugs make me feel bloated and utterly ruin my rest. I trust you have concrete dates this time."
"We're truly sorry for the discomfort. The problem is, that the date of birth has to be set up exactly to match the imprint. Otherwise, all our work becomes useless."
"I take it then that I'm still on the same treatment, then?" hissed the queen.
"Only for a short time."
Jarn's eyes flashed daggers, and Endren realized he had nowhere to go. He sank deeper into the chair, praying for the best outcome.
"How much longer? My doctors tell me it should be in ten days."
"O...only if we go for a regular birth. If you had opted for a natural conception and development, that would have been the case. But once you place a child's body into the Canopy, all the factors change."
"I asked how long!" repeated the queen, the veins on her neck taking a dark shade of purple.
Reaching into his case, Endren took out the imprint, placing it on the desk in one of the few spaces that weren't occupied with other materials. The queen picked it up, trying to understand what she was looking at. Relieved that he got a few extra seconds, Endren continued.
"Time has to be precisely measured when it comes to imprinting. That is why, given all the specifications, we...you've given us, it would be best to delay the birth to...Midsummer".
The next thing that Endren's mind registered was an incoming object. His instincts, strongly honed by years of training, allowed him to move his head in a split second, rolling onto the floor, and the glass shattered against the wall. The queen got up remarkably quickly, towering over the hunched figure that wished it could have been anywhere but in that room.
"You pathetic reject! I swear if the Magisterium continues to keep people like yourself around...Listen to him! Five weeks. That's how long I have to carry my burden! FIVE WEEKS!"
Her palms became fists, but before any more damage could be dealt, Anis placed his hand on her shoulder. The aged man had all the appearances of a retired scholar, but from behind his round glasses, his eyes showed the determination of a man of arms. Locking eyes with the queen, he spoke in a clear voice.
"Your Highness, I'm sure there are...reasons for such delays. And besides, you did know from the start that there could be potential delays."
The man's voice vibrated in their ears with an almost hypnotic resonance. Endren felt his body paralyzed for a split second, but before he could voice his despair, the sensation vanished and he was able to sit back in his chair. The queen exhaled, the anger draining from her with the swiftness of a river. With an almost comical smile, she sat back, placing both her hands on the desk, fingers stretched and spread. She stood in that pose for about a minute, ignoring both men. Finally, she returned to the graphen sheet and handed it to her warden.
"Anis, the projector's over there. Let's get a better look." She said in a jovial tone.
The man walked over to a bulky metallic box and placed the plate inside a slot. Underneath, he inserted a cylinder that had a handle on one end and then twisted it. The cylinder hissed as a fluorescent gas was released inside the projector, engulfing the plate and reacting to the energy dots imprinted on it. The top of the device lit up, and slowly, a nude male form began to take shape. The queen remained still, her usually emotionless face stamped with a delighted smile. Looking at her, Endren couldn't help but think of his wife and daughter. All mothers are the same, after all. Whether natural or imprinted, the joy of motherhood was incomparable.
"My son," she whispered, genuine love flooding from her.
"True. What you are seeing here is the estimated development at age seventeen."
The queen shifted her position, placing Endren into her field of vision again. Her demeanor remained tranquil, but she was dissatisfied with the answer.
"What do you mean estimated? The body was imprinted. That means it's decided and unchangeable."
Endren inhaled, trying to find the best choice of words. It was hard enough to explain something he barely understood. The queen remained silent, her demeanor a strange mockery of a parent who expected a wrong answer from a disobedient child. From behind her, Anis gave a subtle nod, his eyes darting to the now active projector.
"Majesty, the Canopy isn't a wand that you can just wave, and make a super-man from nothing. It's more like a...selection process. It removes undesired traits, but it cannot add what isn't there."
"I'm well aware of my own ancestry." replied the queen in a cold tone. "I would think that after eight generations, there should be nothing but desirable traits."
"Some always find a way to survive. Like rodents fleeing a cat. But like I said, the imprint isn't a prophecy. It shows what can be, not always what will be. What you are seeing there will take years of work and dedication."
"Then your department's promise was a mistake...or a lie?" asked Jern, resentment, and anger dripping with each syllable.
"Neither. We promised we would deliver the best son your dynasty can provide. That has been accomplished. But our seed needs to be watered. And that will take time and resources."
"Then he will have them! He is my future," replied Jern.
Endren's exhale was, thankfully, audible only to himself. The final reply seemed to have satisfied her. With a broad smile, she extended her hand, and the man bowed, kissing her ringed index finger. Her sweet perfume tickled his nostrils, causing his already weary head to spin.
"Our conversation is over." said the queen in her usual simple tone.
Endren bowed one more time, then stepped through the opened double doors, walking the all-too-familiar path to the Magisterium building.
"Now that we've dealt with that, there's one more thing to do."
Anis needed no additional explanation. Heading to one of the cabinets, he took out a fairly large stack of papers and placed them on the desk. The queen looked at it with an expression of irritation and boredom, and Anis moved it aside, before placing a much more friendly five-page document before her.
"You know me so well." her smile was sweet and relieved.
"I served your father, madam. He had no taste for paperwork either. That's why I took the liberty of narrowing down the list to a more manageable nineteen."
"Which also needs to be narrowed down to one.", continued the queen, motioning to Anis to start reading.
His speech was slow, stopping at each heading to give commentary. Names of duchesses, countesses, baronesses, and dames followed one after another, the steward giving a brief outline of their position, as well as the promise they were willing to give. The queen nodded in agreement or requested the occasional clarification, but it was clear to Anis that she had no interest in what was said. Having reached the final name, he sat the papers down, waiting patiently.
"Is that all of them?"
"All the ones that had anything meaningful to offer. And to be honest, most of them had no business being here."
"Let them have the impression that they matter, Anis. It makes no difference in the end."
"Still, we need to ensure that none of them will be offended. I've already ordered letters of refusal to be written. All you need to do is sign them."
"I still don't see why I should. If they're too incompetent to realize why their offer is of no value..." laughed the queen, playing with her golden stylus.
"Foolish or not, we need them. Having a strong aristocracy in control of the hinterlands frees up resources to be used elsewhere."
"It also breeds competition." snapped Jern back.
"Which is why we need to make a good choice now. The godmother is directly tied to the parents. Having someone from the noble born joined to the royal family can make a smooth transition when it comes to..."
"That's still years in the future."
"Agreed. But long-term plans start with simple choices. If you were to ask me, I'd say that the best person is..."
He leaned over the desk, pointing out an underlined name. Jern looked at the name and was barely able to withhold her laughter.
"Duchess Leuna?! Is this the best you can come up with? Surely there's got to be better options."
"She has a suitably pliable personality, highness. And besides, a Birth Gift of a quarter million separi, plus control of the channel ports of Deringen is highly tempting. We need access to the eastern seas, and with that area under direct crown control, the navy will have a line of access to the lands beyond."
"Which are still unexplored. Who knows if there's anything of value out there."
"Your grandfather certainly thought there was. Regrettably, he continued to push the southern expansion policy, to the point it was no longer profitable. You can go down in history as the queen who found the eastern lands."
The queen's mind processed all the information with the speed of interest. With the boredom of ballrooms and sycophants washed from her thinking, plans began to wind, accelerating her decision. With the same composure that Anis showed, she got up and walked to the great window. All that was needed was one word.
"Agreed. Send my answer to her at once."
Anis bowed, but before he could leave, the queen added.
"Come back in two days. We also need to discuss the Birth Promise."
Anis finished the remains of his dinner with the same unceremonious manner of a man who dined alone. At age sixty, his bachelor life was a continuous stream of work parties that kept his days from blending into an indiscernible mash of meaningless moments. His apartment was located inside the palace itself and came with all the advantages and problems that entailed. He set his knife and fork on the plate in his usual manner and cleaned his lips and goatee with a fine cloth.
"Do you want anything else, m'lord?"
"It's fine, Ulm. You can retire for the evening. Just be sure to wake me at the same hour."
The mistoa servant girl picked up the plate and cutlery and made her way to the door as discretely as possible. Her footsteps vanished down the hall, leaving the man in the solitude of his chambers. He removed his glasses and got up to stretch. The fatigue of a full day's work gnawed at his bones, but he knew there was one last thing on the agenda. Something that even the monarch couldn't be informed of.
He remained standing, staring at the door. And with each passing second, his senses began to fade. Sounds were slowly becoming nothing more than disjointed whispers, which his ears tried in vain to process. The smell of freshly sprinkled perfume from his potted flowers vanished from his nostrils, and the clothes on his body left no sensation of touch on his skin. Deaf and mute, with only his eyes as guides, he stood motionless as the world around him shifted from existence into surexistence. Objects were now just amalgamations formed of dots of light, each having the same color as their real-world counterparts.
He was aware that he hadn't left the room, yet his feet felt like they stood on nothing. Solid matter was coming apart, one atom at a time, leaving him the only tangible thing. The capital's vast expanse glittered with the sparks of trillions of microscopic stars, each fitted to replicate the material into a reality that had no matter. Anis opened his mouth, and the words shot from his mind like lightning.
"I speak with the voice of those wishing to be born."
The word of power manifested into a golden path, starting from his own feet, and stretching into the Canopy's immaterial sky. What he perceived as the top of his apartment split asunder, the dots hovering through the air in disharmony. Anis waited, and for a third time, that day bowed.
White orbs appeared out of nowhere, slowly joining into shape. Anis could see a pair of what he assumed were bare feet walking on the path his mind's voice had created. More and more dots appeared, and the image continued to grow and become more defined with each second. The shape was feminine, though no certain features could be seen on her face, nor the rest of her nude body.
"Is it done?"
The being's voice resonated into Anis' mind, and the man's body quivered. The response came moments later, thoughts creating what voices could not.
"Everything. As you instructed. The birth is set to take place in five weeks, and the Confirmation will come one month later."
"Wonderful! Let me see the boy."
Anis raised his head, seeing his face reflected in the being's featureless face. Unseen fingers probed his mind, turning memories like they were pages in a book. He felt no sense of malice, just a bizarre curiosity that caused the being to stop at various points, picking up details as she went. He had memorized the imprint while inside the queen's office, so it should have been one of the last few memories in his mind. Yet the entity continued flipping.
"Please...I've given enough..."
His mind's voice sounded pitiful and broken. Still, the plea had achieved its intended purpose. The connection broke, leaving Anis standing bare. How much longer must I bear the price of loyalty?
"You would deprive me of the pleasure of looking?" it asked, this time in a stronger tone.
"You've found the imprint immediately. There was no point in going deeper than that!", replied Anis, trying to match her vigor.
He felt no need to push the matter, nor did he feel that it would make any difference even if he did. The being before him had now cut all mental ties, and her body seemed to restructure. Various dots detached from the form that stood before him, spinning and joining in a bizarre dance of constellations. First, her oval face, then the rest of the body changed to something that resembled quicksilver.
Moments later, the connection opened again, and Anis felt his mind slapped by its cosmic laughter.
"My, my, your people have outdone themselves. And his mind...very clever choice of connections..."
"Then...will you agree to receive him?"
"That decision was already made. I will take him. If your queen wishes an heir that will bring Ered under her hand, well, then she will get more than what she bargained for."
Anis had spent enough time with Jern to recognize the threat. He opened his mind to speak, only to be met by the being's mocking laughter.
"Do you perhaps...fear that I will do him harm?"
"N...no. I trust you. But I do want transparency."
"And you will have it. The Confirmation is public, and my declaration will be public."
Anis stared at her in wonder. Public? How, none of them had ever appeared outside the Canopy. If they can do that...
Ethereal fingers caressed his cheek, pulling the man out of his thoughts. The touch was as human as it could have been. Don't touch me. Let me remain as I am! The only reply that came was a sharp pain in his eyes, as the connection deepened.
"I can hear you, Anis. And I've already seen that pathetic duchess. Don't waste your time pleading for her life. It requires more energy to create an imprint out of nothing that to use an already existing shell."
Terror mixed with relief flooded his body, only to be replaced by a new torrent of questions. But he understood that he wouldn't get any answers to any of them. His mind lingered in balance, searching for a place to hide while hoping to find any argument that may change things.
"The stringing will not kill her," continued the being, her voice now sinking its pins into his mind. All I need is the use of her body when it comes to the boy's education. Other than that, let them have their precious days together. His real life will be with me."
"Can...you guarantee Leuna's survival?" pleaded the man.
"I've already explained that to you!" replied the being with a shout that nearly split his head apart. "I've no interest in repeating myself."
Anis realized that he had no recollection of what had been spoken only a few seconds before. His thoughts were becoming jumbled, as the entity's unseen grasp drained and manipulated the connections of his mind. She's trying to make me forget.
With a push that surprised even him, he snapped the link, causing the creature to reel back, her angry shout echoing in his mind.
"Sorry, but I need to keep these thoughts stored!"
The ethereal connections that bound his existence to the Canopy snapped, sending him flying much to quickly unto natural existence. The shock of feeling his head bounce against the floor anchored him into the body's senses, his dry mouth desperate to articulate any sound.
Existence continued to make itself felt, putting his mind at ease. His office felt solid again. Relief overwhelmed him, as he sat on a sofa, still looking blankly at the familiar surroundings.
"Natural. I remain a Natural." he thought to himself and thanked the heavens that he didn't have to listen to the entity's laughter at his weakness. I stand by my decision. And will carry my burden to the end.