bookpub Chapter 45: Compound
Chapter 45: Compound
Chapter 45: Compound
Each newly-ensouled individual must face a choice: given the power they now have, how best shall they make use of it? Most pursue a trade, some seek glory, and still others prefer to withdraw into obscurity.
A handful of people come to me for counsel on this matter each year, usually those who have received a particularly powerful or troublesome soul. Regardless of their circumstance, I tell each one the same thing: that if they wish to pursue real change, to effect substantial good in the world, then they should lend their talents to research, study and science.
Consider: an augmens may cause a certain amount of growth on a certain number of farms, which is a fine and productive use of that soul. But the augmens is still only a man, with the limitations of a man. He may only be in one place at a time, must take time from his day for eating, sleeping, et-cetera. Though he might work himself ragged every day, there is a firm limit to the amount of change he may effect.
Consider, then, a second augmens. Rather than visiting farms and fields each day, he studies botany and biology. He understands how plants breed and change with each generation. With dedication and effort, he produces strains of common crops that resist pests, thrive in poor soil and bear greater bounty than before.
The number of farmers in the world, souled or unsouled, outstrips the count of augmentes by far. By using his soul to empower them, the second augmens will do a greater good than the first could achieve in a thousand lifetimes.
There is a force in this world greater than the soul, the mind, or whatever nebulous concept of the human spirit one may wish to conjure. This force is mathematics. It is merciless, fair and invincible, the greatest foe for those who seek to oppose it and the greatest ally of those who seek to understand its workings. I give this advice so that the newly ensouled do not waste their lives walking behind an ox when they might have hitched their plow to an exponent instead.
- Leire Gabarain, Annals of the Sixteenth Star, 683.
Michael walked slowly down the garden path, watching the orchards trees slide in and out of alignment with each step. Each time he was afforded a brief glimpse of a transient, leafy hall bedecked with fruit and foliage. Apples, pears and peaches lent their aroma to the breeze; Michael inhaled deeply - and paused, frowning.
There were other scents carried on the wind, bright flashes hidden in the depths of the orchard. One tree gleamed with shifting, shining fruits that held no true shape, another bore fleshy lumps that oozed an unsettling crimson juice. He stopped walking in front of one that held orbs of smoldering coal amid its branches, low and smoky flames dancing amid the greenery.
This isnt real, Michael murmured. Im dreaming again.
A quiet laugh came from behind him. Good that youre starting to recognize it, Jeorg said. Less good that youve had so much practice. Should try to avoid exerting yourself to the point of senselessness.
Michael turned to look at the old man, taking in his weathered face. Its not as though Im trying, he grumbled. The soldier came out of nowhere. He shot Sobriquet. His hand came up to trace over his chest, fingers hovering over the twinned flames burning within. I saw it, and Clair burned so brightly. After that, everything just - happened.
Jeorg snorted. Clair is dead, he said. She didnt do anything to force your actions.
Youre dead too, Michael pointed out. And yet here we are.
Jeorg is dead, Jeorg agreed, walking slowly over to one of the trees and laying his hand on its bark. But Im not Jeorg. Im you, the part of you that knows Jeorg - the empty space in you that still holds his shape. He withdrew his hand and looked at Michael, his eyes glinting with reflected light. More than a few of those voids in you, now, with Clair and Vincent stronger than most. But - still only you. Still your own mind remembering their shape.
Michael pressed his lips together. That doesnt sound right, he said. When Clairs fire burns I can feel her. Sobriquet can feel her. Its more than just a memory.
It is, Jeorg agreed. But still ultimately a part of you. Still yours to control, in the end. He leaned closer to Michael, his eyes narrowing. If the hound attacks, who bears the blame?
The master. Michaels mouth felt suddenly dry. But I dont know how to control the flames.
Of course you dont, Jeorg retorted. You made something new, tread paths yet to be traveled. There is risk inherent in that; you decided that you didnt care. Now you have to deal with the consequences; learn to control them before you do something that youll regret. He paused, and his face softened. Because it will be you, when it happens. Not these flames you bear. Always and forever, your burden.
Michael nodded slowly; he felt a slow weight settling into his body. I dont even know where to start, he said dully.
Jeorg smiled at him, baring his teeth. Then ask, he said. He stretched his hand out to touch the tree beside him again; the trunk shot outward in a broad canopy of overlapping branches. Michael cried out in shock but it was too late - they twined around his arms and legs, covered his face, dragged him down, down-
Michaels eyes snapped open. He was drenched with sweat, chest heaving; he took a few moments to breathe as he looked around. He was lying on a small but comfortable bed. The room he was in had little else beside his bed, there was a lone chair in the corner and a metal rack with a bag of fluid suspended from it. A tube trailed from the bag down to his elbow, where it was taped to his skin - no, inserted into his arm. He stilled his immediate thoughts of panic, carefully lifting the tape before sliding the needle free.
A small bead of blood welled up; he rubbed it away and looked around the room again. The door was bare metal, windowless, with a flat steel handle. The single light was a well-made electric bulb that cast a soft, even light over the walls of the room, bare save for an arrangement of curved, dark glass set into the wall beside the door.
Michael swung his feet from the bed to the floor. A thin blanket had covered him; as it slid away he saw that he was wearing a plain shirt and trousers cut from the same grey fabric. A feeling of unease settled over him as his mind began to draw parallels between his current state and his time on Sparks island. He walked over to test the door and found that it was locked from the outside.
He was trapped in the room, at least for the moment. The restriction sent his suspicions flaring, and with them came Vincents flame; it, too, rankled at the confinement. It would be a simple thing to call upon Stanza and destroy the doors mechanism-
But, no. Michael grit his teeth and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths until the flame died down. When his heart was beating slow and steady, he let his sight drift outward. Past the door, there was only a long, bare hall; the far door was beyond the limit of his sight.
Hello? he called out. Can anyone hear me?
No response came. He pondered shouting louder still, but decided to wait; he was in no immediate peril that he could ascertain, and Vincents surging call to action had made him wary of trusting his impulses. He sat on the bed - and popped immediately back to his feet as Sobriquets avatar materialized in the room.
Youre finally up, she said, the apparitions buzzing tones not enough to mask the relief in her voice. You were asleep for most of a day.
I feel like it, Michael grumbled. What is this place? I take it were in Mendian, but - is this a hospital?
Michael sighed and shook his head. Im sorry for dissembling, he said. Secrecy has become something of a habit. He took a breath and looked at the screen once more. I bear multiple souls.
Leires expression did not change. This is something that science holds to be impossible, she said. But let us entertain the notion. How many souls do you have rattling around within you, and what are they?
Im not sure I fully know the nature of my original soul, Michael said, save that it permits me to acquire others. I believe answering that question was part of Jeorgs purpose in trying to bring me to you. As for the others, I have a durens, spector and calorigens soul within me. There is also Stanza, as you know. He took a breath. And Spark.
A moment of silence drew out until it had become thin and brittle. Leires hands unfolded, then folded once more. Ah, she said. A few things begin to make more sense. She reached to the side, her hand coming back into view with a small cup of something. There was another pause while she sipped at it.
Jeorg thought to bring you to me? she asked. Did he say why?
He said that you helped him to understand his soul, Michael replied. At the time, we didnt know anything about my soul save that I had a reaction to death. When Jeorg died, that was - how I learned the rest.
She took another sip of her drink, then slowly set the cup back down on the saucer. And the other souls? she asked. Her voice had dropped to a low monotone. How did you come by those?
Michael indulged in a deep breath before answering, trying to let the cavalcade of memories that her question provoked pass him by. Two killed by Spark, he said. He guessed the purpose of my soul and wanted to - to feed it. He pressed his lips together; Leire made no comment. After the second death, I was able to break free. Spark tried to stop me; I killed him.
Another pause, another wordless stare from Leire. Michael continued. The last, the calorigens - that was Vincent Waldeck, an Ardan. He was killed a few days ago by Sustain, in Siad.
I see, Leire murmured. What soul were you hoping to acquire next?
Michael blinked. Pardon? he asked.
What sort of soul did you want next? Leire asked. Surely youve thought about it. Perhaps another Form soul, to make you proof against bullets? Being a verifex might be useful as well.
He stared at Leires image on the screen, her words not penetrating the disbelief blanketing his mind. Michael saw Sparks sly smile, his promise to make Michael a man that history could not help but enshrine at its center.
Is that your intent? he asked. To fatten me up, as Spark would have?
Leire laughed. Souls exist to be used, she said. And yours is a marvelous one, if youre not lying through your teeth. You want to do good in the world, to help your Daressan friends? It can happen. You are already a force to be reckoned with, we can make you one beyond reckoning.
Michael stared at the screen for a long moment, then stepped closer. I have realized, over time, that I did not know Jeorg as well as I thought I did. Ive often wished that there had been more time for me to learn about his past, and that we could have come here together.
He took another step toward the screen, leaning down so it was at his eye level. But now Im glad he has the peace of oblivion rather than having to hear what you just said. He respected you, held you in esteem. Michaels voice caught; he glared at the screen with more than a little mirror-light flashing in his eyes.
I will take no more souls, and if you attempt to force more upon me you will see the fullness of the ones I already bear. He jabbed a finger at the screen. Never. Do you hear me? Never.
Leire regarded him through the screen for a long moment, then nodded her head. I believe you, she said, reaching her hand out of view once more. There was a buzz from the door, then a click; it drifted slowly open.
What? Michael asked, confusion intruding on his anger. Just like that?
A smile crept over her face once more. I presume you were educated, she said. That you had your sums and the various intricacies of finance pressed upon you.
Michael nodded cautiously at the non-sequitur, his eyes still tracking the door as it swung wide. I did, he said. What of it?
She leaned back. You are the only person in the world who may use his soul to acquire more souls, she said. And like any learned person, I have a healthy fear of compound interest. Growth that fuels itself is dangerous no matter where it occurs. If you must halt such a process, it is best to do so early - before the cost becomes ruinous.
Her meaning slid into Michaels gut, chill and deadly. So you mean to kill me, he said.
I would have, she said, if you had entertained my offer for even a moment. Since you did not, we will continue to speak on the subject. Tell me: does your ability require your will, a touch or a certain proximity to work?
None of those, Michael replied, feeling somewhat lightheaded. Her rapid change in tone had done nothing to still the sudden pounding of his heart. It only needs affinity.
This time, Michael saw the expression on Leires face for what it was; surprise, then a carefully-schooled neutrality. When she spoke again, however, her voice was softer. Ah, she said. I begin to understand your reticence.
She leaned heavily on the desk, resting her chin on her hands - then shook her head. Its good to remember that all souls carry trials and power in equal measure, she sighed. I suppose even I can lose sight of that, from time to time. She brought her gaze up to the screen once more. Walk down the hall, and wait in the room beyond the door. Someone will bring you to your companions.
She reached a hand over, then paused. Dont prove me wrong, Michael, she said. A few moments ago I had the chance to save the world. Id like to think that I took it. Her eyes crinkled in a small, rueful smile - then she moved her arm and the screen went dark once more.
Michael was left staring at his own reflection in the glass, a disheveled young man with untidy hair and a ragged scruff of beard. It was a far cry from the spectacle of Leire standing on her airship, beams of light lancing outward to lay waste to the Safid forces in the bay.
Yet - if they had spoken face-to-face, Michael was sure that he would have felt fear pulsing from Leire, as it did from everyone else no matter how they pushed it aside or papered it over with trust and friendship. Some animal recess of their minds knew Michael for what he was.
He wished his own mind was as perceptive.