The Prophesy: Book 4 - Armageddon

 

"So, P’Tarik, how did your test go?"

"I do not know."

"You do not?"

"Dad, I did not feel like talking about this after the events, but P’Tarik exceeded my expectations considerably. He has considerable potential, enough so I decided to teach him Magic personally."

"Oh?"

"Just so you know, he created a gold cube without blinking, and vitrified the sand of the Arena. He is also fully telepathic. I have not done more tests than these basic ones, but that is more than enough to consider him as a student. P’Tarik is now my student. Young Orc, you will be picked up every morning and brought here; four days out of five, you will learn reading, writing, Mathematics; the fifth morning, you will spend with me in one of the ethics classes. The afternoon will be spent learning basic Magic, Physics, Biology, Chemistry, and sciences. Weekends will be spent in sports to fine-tune motor coordination and ready you for war, should we still need to do it."

"You can count on it. After death, war is the next inescapable aspect of life," Sitar explained to the young Orc. "Since you so impressed Harp, I am taking over the military training for you."

"And I will be teaching you Chemistry," said Thorsten, not willing to be left out.

"And I will teach you Physics," added Paschal.

"And I Biology!" exclaimed Enron.

"I can take over elementary teaching of maths and writing-reading skills," said Piano. "It is time I get back to practising what I have been telling others to do. Report here for these basic courses."

"From there, we will get you to the proper classes for the other subjects. Expect a lot of hands-on experience. We learned it was the best way to teach," said Thorsten.

"Do you think he can bind with a Dragon?" Typhoon asked.

"Not yet, maybe in a month."

"Okay. It will not be a problem. Given that new egglings are always available, you tell me when he is, Harp."

"Do you have questions?" Harold asked.

"Yes. What is the Ordeal I have heard about? It seems terrible."

"Oh, it is. It pits you against an obstacle course that combines physical fitness, stamina, Magic, and a lot of intelligence. Each Ordeal is different, depending on the composition of the team. They are designed to test your limits."

"Who will be on my team?"

"That depends on who will be ready to undergo his or her Ordeal when you are," replied Violin.

"Oh?"

"A team is composed of seven members, usually, but not always, of different species. Sometimes, the team has a shape-shifter, but if not, it has a Dragon. As the God of War says, an Ordeal is a war, so expect the unexpected," Timor added.

"The God of War?"

"That is me," said Sitar, blushing.

"Anyway, lesson one for you starts now. Since we have just about every Atlantean species represented here, your task is to learn to expand your telepathic bandwidth. Your native range is somewhat below Humans, while the Atlanteans’ natural range is in the high bands. Try lowering your median bandwidth. Some species are dual-band, but we will get you to that later," said Harp. "Ahem, do not force the range adjustment it will grow on you naturally. You never used telepathy until today, and it is like a muscle, it needs warming up before getting used intensively."

"What should I do?"

"Just relax while we eat. We will be sending some questions your way, and you will hear one or more and answer either verbally or telepathically. Try telepathically, and if you do not get an exchange, answer verbally. It only means your listening range has expanded but your transmitting range is not following yet."

The day passed on, with P’Tarik talking to everyone. He watched the reports flow in for Timor on internal security with interest, saw the last reports from the now detonated sensor array around the Sun be interpreted, and watched with keen interest Samson update the star map.

"You say the stars rotate and move around the centre of the galaxy. How?"

"Let me show you."

In the middle of the map room, a three-dimensional representation of the Milky Way appeared, suspended in space as the entire room darkened.

The rotating Milky Way

"This is how the Galaxy we are in looks currently, from our position. Now watch. I will make it move forward in time at an ever-faster rate."

Initially, the Galaxy did not change, but as Samson increased the speed of the animation, the Galaxy began spinning, arms turning around the centre, stars being left behind in the fringe to merge with other arms, and overall, giving the impression that the entire system was swimming toward the Andromeda Galaxy, that appeared as a diffuse light on the far edge of the room. Stars exploded, were born or died according to their expected schedule in the simulation. The young Orc was mesmerised by the entire show.

"Where are we?" he finally asked as the show continued on.

A star began to blink with intensity after a minor adjustment from Samson.

"That is the Sun, where we shared the now defunct Earth. We are in between stars. We re headed for a close star, an F0 type. At this scale the two stars are too close to be differentiated, and we are in-between them. Even if I zoomed considerably, we are still very close to the Sun, well short of the half-mark. Even at our phenomenal speed, it will take us almost two months to reach our goal. Our speed allows us to cover 4.5 light-years a day."

"Why are we going there?"

"P’Tarik, do not ask me. I know nothing! I am just the main navigator. Ian has set that star as goal, and I am not even sure he knows why he selected it. We will know in time."

"Wrong. I do know why. I saw in a precognitive vision that we need to go there to get rid of the last of our interstellar hounds."

"What is that?"

"The capacity to see the future. I choose that thread amongst the billions of options because we will need some off time later on, and having Scavengers biting our arses would prevent us from succeeding in the next part of our mission."

"Ah. No, I do not have siblings," added P’Tarik.

"Good, you have heard my question," said Timor. "You have extended your range to include basic Troll frequencies!"

"Let us head for dinner. It is near vespers. Rockhook? You have command," decided Ian

"I have command. I will see you tomorrow. Who will take the night shift?"

"Black Feet Wolf."

"Okay."

* * *

The return of P’Tarik to the tessaract segment reserved for the Orcs was relatively quiet, even if the Orc Children wanted to know as much as they could from him. He sat quietly near the fire, and closed his eyes, hugging a young Orc in his arm while the little female sucked her thumb. After half an hour, the camp grew exceedingly quiet, and P’Tarik was taken out of his reverie by its stillness.

"So, what happened today?" he asked quietly to the little Girl.

"Nothing. There was that tall, thin male that kept watch on us while we played in the shallow water and the bigger ones collected some things to eat. He looked so strange with that gold hair and he had no hair anywhere else!"

"That is probably the Elf Prince Ian promised to keep an eye on you. I have seen many Elves today, and they seem to be hairless except on the head. But there is one strange fellow that is totally hairless from head to foot. I think he identified himself as a Goblin. He looks so old, much like some of the oldest Elders of the Burrow before the famine.

Oh. I do not remember much, except I was always hungry before. It is nice here. We find a lot of food. And when we do not there is food that just seems to come from nowhere, like the animals want to be eaten."

"I am glad your tummy is filled!"

"Me too. What did you do today?"

The other Orcs’ ears perked up when the little Girl asked that vital question.

"Oh, a lot of things. I was taken to see a very strange place called the Bridge. Did you know we are travelling through the stars?"

"No. How can that be? We see the stars every night and they do not seem to move."

"The Navigator, a guy named Samson, explained that, in order for us and all the life forms that depend on stars to feel stable, the apparent sky should not change. There is no need for the sky to reflect reality."

"The apparent sky?" asked a Boy that was sitting beside them.

"Yes. The night sky and the day sky we see are images. We are inside a space ship, and the feeling of being outside is an illusion. I have seen the Bridge and it shows the outside, as it is for real. There is no Sun where we are now, only bright stars. They understood my confusion and brought me to a place called the forward deck, which shows the outside through a window. There was that strange animal that they called a Spider, which was roaming on the surface and doing some cleaning, but nothing else. They told me the Spider was a maintenance robot, and that it was the only thing that could safely crawl outside. Far away, there was that strange reddish glow that covered the entire black sky. They called it the warp bubble. The strange thing is that the stars did not sparkle like they do here. They told me it was because there was no air to make them sparkle. I do not really understand, but I was told I would one day, after I have learned all they know."

"Wow! What else did you see?"

"The engines. They are huge, so huge we could all get inside a single one and get lost! And I saw a three-dimensional projection of the stars. There are so many, so many! Did you know that the white band we see above our head tonight is composed of stars, myriad of stars? They call this the Milky Way, and I understand why. It does look like someone spilled milk."

The Orcs all looked up and realised, for the first time maybe in their culture, how small they really were. The eyes of many watered at the loss of their importance, but P’Tarik continued.

"They told me this is an island of stars and that there are millions and millions of islands like this in the Universe. They call these islands Galaxies. And the Navigator, an old Elf, showed me something really strange. These islands move in space. They rotate on themselves but their distance and size is so vast that we are unable to see these movements unless we do some very advanced calculations and run them on what they called computers to get an idea of the transformations over time. The Milky Way is rotating on itself very fast and we are part of that movement, much like we are part of the movement of the space ship."

Gasps of surprise, doubts, and fear spread around the small Orc colony.

"That Elf also told me that, like us, stars are born, live, and die, but they take much longer to do so. Space is so strange. I can barely wait to learn more! I am going to learn to read, write, and count! That way, I will be able to understand all these mysteries!"

"Can I learn to do that too?"

"Sure sweetie. I am sure they did not plan to keep that only for me!"

"Neat! Who do I need to talk to so I can start?"

"I will have to ask tomorrow, P’Rouke. I am sure they have plans for us, and it is not to stay under the tree branches waiting for food to fall from the sky!"

"What is the Bridge you so often refer to?"

"It is where the space ship is controlled. It is huge, and very complicated, with lots and lots of stations and adjacent rooms. There are so many lights, so many things going on at the same time I am sure I did not see one part per ten of what was."

"Did you do anything apart from look at things?" asked the little Girl on P’Tarik’s lap.

"I ate a lot, and "

P’Tarik was not too sure how this next revelation would be greeted and so he held back.

«Do not worry P’Tarik. Nothing bad will happen from this lot. I would not say the same from Adults, but Children are immensely receptive to Magic. Be honest with them.» said Ian.

"And?" asked P’Art, the little Boy that was literally hanging on every word P’Tarik was uttering with eyes wider than his face.

" And I passed a Magic exam to see if I could do some."

A few whistles fused at that last announcement.

"Did you pass?"

"It was not a pass or fail thing, it was a measure of potential. The Prince of Magic himself accepted me in their College of Magic, and he plans to teach me personally. Apparently this is only done for the Royal family. I feel overwhelmed and worried."

"I want to be a Magician one day!" declared, peremptorily, P’Art.

"That seems to be a dangerous job, P’Art. One Magician tried to kill Harp, the Prince of Magic, and got skinned alive for it today. Apparently, the guy did not understand his place and paid it with his life."

"That is not much different from us, if you think of it. The only difference between them and us is the guy is usually dead when we skin him before putting his bits in the crock-pot," remarked P’Rouke.

"In their case, the guy ended up feeding the Fishes, if I understand the exchange. Anyway, let us head to bed. I have been told I will be taken to school tomorrow at dawn, and that comes fast."

***

The next week passed uneventfully. P’Tarik was taking a break from his studies with Harp, who needed to be on the Bridge for his turn of duty. He watched, fascinated, the constant exchange of information going on between the different stations, wondering where he would fit best the day he succeeded in his classes.

"Sensor arrays report the detonation of graviton mines. The first Scavengers have reached the wall," Thorsten informed the Crew.

"Good. How many got crushed, Thorsten?"

"About 500 ships, but the report is incomplete."

"Estimate the strategic impact," required Ian.

"I suspect the first faction to leave the solar system was the dominant one," supposed Sitar. "The others must be coming in behind. I suspect they punctured the minefield and those that were in the lead paid the price. Now we will see their slowest vessels pass through," replied Sitar.

"How many will be affected by the black hole?"

"Only the weakest ones that turned to starboard in an attempt to escape the minefield. They will be moving closer to the black hole, and it is very hard to detect. They should hit it within half an hour."

"Do you think it changes their relative strategic position?"

"All depends on the respective forces left. How many warp signatures are we seeing?"

"The space in the area is too unstable due to the important number of core breaches for a reliable count. And we lost one of the sensors to contact. That too is hiding warp signatures," answered Thorsten.

"Okay, Thorsten. So, P’Tarik, have you been introduced to a Dragonling yet?"

"No. Harp says I have to learn to make food for it, and learn to fly. I wonder how that is done? He says sequential translocation does it, but I do not understand."

"Do not worry, it took me some time too!" said Banjo, as he created coffee for everyone on a desk.

"You sure did! You landed in the middle of the lake and Harp had to rescue you!" nagged Cello, as he took a sip of his coffee, only to spit it right back out, looking at Banjo with daggers in the eyes.

"How did you like your salty coffee, oh big-mouthed Brother?"

"How? I tested the sugar before adding it to the coffee!"

"I converted it to salt as it dissolved!"

"You know this means war!"

"Not on my Bridge, you two pranksters. And Cello, when will you learn not to trust a gift from Banjo?" said Ian as he tried to control his snickers unsuccessfully.

A couple of hours later, just as Harp was ready to leave his station for vespers, he noticed that the sensors left near the miniature black hole reported a series of gamma ray bursts.

"Hey, good news. From the sensors’ reports, the black hole we crossed just gobbled another 50 or so space ships up. What are the instructions for the sensors, Ian?"

"Leave them behind. Let us hope another couple of space ships will either collide with them or with the black hole. Have you been able to clarify the situation concerning warp signatures?"

"There are three waves of signatures so far: warp eight, warp five, and warp three. That either means there are three species involved, or else three levels of damaged ships, but that later hypothesis is less likely," replied Sitar.

"Why?" P’Tarik, curious about space ship designs, asked.

"Scavenger hull designs limit speed more than warp drive. The slowest use carbon-lithium alloys. The second use magnesium-silicon. Finally, the fastest uses iron-titanium-carbon stratified layers. These compositions reduce the warp bubble size and render it less efficient, creating a destabilising flux past their optimum speed. From what we read, all three are running after us at flank speed, meaning they are running at well above optimum. They will pay the price eventually by either getting core failures or ablation on their hull. Either situation is fatal. All three derive power from black hole cores, also a limiting factor since you cannot feed matter to it in too much volume since the process stresses the Klein bottle. Their other design error is the use of nacelles. I understand why they did this. In case of imminent containment rupture or core breach, it is possible to dispose of the core by ejecting it. The consequence is disastrous if all cores are ejected. That is why they usually have two cores, with two nacelles placed in a V shape about the main, or Alpha hull. When that is done they have lost warp capabilities. On the other hand, if they eject only one core, it reduces their warp capabilities by roughly half," said Paschal.

"Why are nacelles such a bad idea?"

"The warp bubble must envelop the entire ship. Nacelles are away from the main hull and therefore the bubble must be bigger than necessary to envelope the ship totally. That is one error. The other error is that they are unable to turn on a dime, and must change direction progressively, whereas this sphere can change direction instantly, accelerate from full stop to warp 9.95 in the blink of an eye or come to full stop in the same time interval, or even reverse direction completely."

"Are there other types of warping engines?"

"I have looked in the Atlantean Archives. There were quite a few changes in design over time before they left Atlantis One. Let us see. From memory, the engines differ according to the cores: there is cold hydrogen fusion, black holes, dilithium crystals, trilithium crystals, kryptonite crystals, mithril, and finally what we use, orichalque. The two later types of cores collect Magic as we travel and will never, ever, run out of fuel. Our fuel is the Universe itself. We use both types of cores, the mithril as boost for orichalque should we need it, very unlikely as long as we stay within this event horizon. I will explain that comment later, P’Tarik, I am getting hungry."

"Oh. Okay. Are all cores of equal capacity?"

"No. I listed them in increasing power level. Cold fusion barely manages to get us to beyond the light barrier, and is highly ineffective. Black holes are much more efficient, but are inherently unstable. Dilithium is roughly 10% better than black holes and is more stable. Trilithium is a lot more powerful and allows for transwarp streaming. The kryptonite crystal also allows for transwarp, lasts slightly longer than trilithium, but requires a very long time to recharge, contrary to the trilithium. However it is more common than trilithium so was more in use by Atlanteans for intergalactic travel before we managed to harness the mithril and, later, the orichalque crystals."

"Wow. So much to learn!"

"Hey, you only know part of the issue: dilithium crystals must be in a specific form, called orthorhombic, and so must all higher order core materials. Cold fusion consumes a lot of deuterium and tritium, so the storage tank is bulky, even if the hydrogen isotopes are kept in liquid form before usage."

"Are there other types of engines?"

"Yes. After all, leaving a planet is the initial part of the trip. If the planet has a magnetic core, it is possible, with the use of orthorhombic sulphur crystals, to create a magneto-levitation drive, but that engine loses efficiency as it moves further from the planet. The carbon-60 mono-filament stretched to a tension of seven Gigatonnes warped around a core of molybdenum-nickel alloy and rotating at 6,000 RPM generates an anti-gravity wave that also allows travel from the planetary surface to space. Believe me, you do not want that mono-filament to break! It cuts through hardened steel like my finger cuts through air. There are also chemical engines, based on the combustion of hydrogen in the presence of oxygen, that allow inter-planetary travel at snail pace, and ionic drives, that eject ions of hydrogen or other metals at high velocity after accelerating them in a magnetic loop. It is also possible to sail the solar wind by using atom-thick aluminium foil stretched on booms. This has the advantage of not consuming any fuel, but it is extremely fragile to micrometeorites. Then there are ground-based engines, such a steam and internal combustion engines to name a few, but they are totally useless in space."

"I think we need to let P’Tarik take a break, Paschal, otherwise he will feel overwhelmed."

"Oh, yes. I think you are right, Harp."

Everyone moved to the mess hall, and P’Tarik watched the Change of the Guards. He was shocked by the complexity of the procedure, and, for maybe the third or fourth time, he came to realise that the Atlanteans were far more than a simple collection of powerful and knowledgeable Mages.

His presence, over the past few weeks, had been accepted, and he was now free to roam the huge mess hall and talk to everyone. His constant questions and sharp mind endeared him to everyone. As the evening was coming to a close and he was getting ready to go back home to his Orc group, he was intercepted by a Centurion.

"We have a graduation exam for our Warriors tomorrow morning. Would you like to see the exam?"

"I will have to ask Harp. I have to attend to his ethics class tomorrow morning."

"I see. Well, the exam starts at tierce, so you have the time to talk to him tomorrow. The exam is held under Ian and Sitar’s watchful eyes. You are welcomed."

***

The next morning took the Warriors by surprise. Every Mage in Harp’s class was present at the final exam.

"None of you were told that the Mages were to be there today," began Sitar. "This is the proof that, even during an exam, you must expect the unexpected. Yes, you will fight, prove your ability with weapons, but also, you will have to deal with Mages. They too are passing an exam today, and they were not even told of it until now, so I do not want to hear that they had time to prepare; they did not, no more than you did!"

"The goal is to be the last one left standing in the battlefield. You can team up, but, at the end, only one must be standing. There can only be one! The longer you last, the higher your score at this exam," added Ian.

"You can use any trick whatsoever short of killing your opponent. All weapons and spells are allowed. You all have strengths and weaknesses. Use them to your advantage. Notice that the arena is complex: it has meadows, lakes, rivers, forests, grasslands, and even caves and mounts. It also has predators. We have taken the liberty to put in quite a variety of them too, from simple Sabre-tooth Leopards to vines. Be weary of both your opponents and your environment. This is a war simulation with as much realism as we could muster. Even the ground you walk on is treacherous, with quicksand, tar pits, and slippery rock falls," added Harp.

"The battle begins when the gong is struck. The terrain covers 30 miles on a side, so 900 square miles. I suggest you spread out for the next hour. We will know immediately if someone is struck down, stuck, or hurt beyond his ability to defend himself, since you all have received this morning in your food a transitional porting key that will get you out of trouble and out of the game the moment the situation becomes critical. You can also leave the game at any time by using your port key on the belt," said Yamato. "Beware of the predators! They will not be playing games! We can repair just about any wound, but if a Lion breaks your neck and tears your head off, there is not much we can do. Use all your wits and senses!"

"It is now tierce. Disperse! In an hour, the game begins. We have put the predators in time stasis. They will become active when the gong resonates!" said Sitar.

"No cheating by starting to fight before the gong rings! That will guarantee failure!" added Harp.

P’Tarik was stunned by the nature of the exam. He never figured it could be so hard. He immediately noticed that each contestant was visible on a monitor in the supervisory control room. Some walked, others ran, and others seemed to jump all over the place, porting for a vintage point that would give them a clear view of the area they were interested in occupying at the start of the battle. Some teamed up in pairs, or in more important groups, but most were individualistic and decided to run the gauntlet alone.

"How many Warriors are there in that exam?"

"About 1,000 in all; 200 Mages and 800 non-Mages."

"Why is that?"

"Most people think they cannot do Magic and resort to physical ability to succeed in the Army. It is true that good Mages are rare, but so are good sportsmen, good Archers, good swimmers, and what not. Mediocrity predominates in most fields. This exam tests everything in a person: Magic, physical capacity, survival skills, mental fitness, inventiveness, cunning, creativity, and manual skills. The last one out of there will be the best of the best for that lot," explained Sitar.

"Everything is recorded, from the moment they made their way out of their bed this morning to the end of the trials. Some just filled their stomach to capacity, and will feel the dullness of digestion shortly; others, on the other hand, stretched and worked out, and came to the test already warmed up. Some had plans and these plans got foiled by the test; others came ready for anything."

"Oh. I think I understand."

"Good. Most of them do not, and are gripping at the unfairness of it all," said Harp.

"Especially the Mages! They are too used to pre-announced exercises where they can prepare mentally. War does not write you a letter to give you fair warning. It spanks you on the arse when you least expect it. They are also too used to the College arena. War grounds are not groomed with clean sand, bleachers, and warding spells to protect the spectators. There are no spectators at war, only survivors and dead corpses!" said Ian.

"Is this what the Ordeal is all about?"

"Yes and no. The Ordeal is far, far worse. It is held in the Pyramids and lasts a full week. This will last a day at most. These contenders will never undergo the Ordeal, and will therefore never reach our level or, for that matter, yours, P’Tarik." Harp informed the young Orc. "Most would not survive."

"Well, except for the topmost 1%," added Sitar. "To be one of the seven to 10 that will reach the top in this lot will require a lot of work, and I do mean a lot!"

"Barely half will pass. The rest will fail," Ian said. "Those that fail can take it again, a year from now. Those that pass can also take it again in a year in an effort to improve their score, therefore their chance at promotion. Those scores are not everything. They only give us an idea of the individual’s value. Sometimes, a poorly scored individual surprises us and proves by his actions he was misjudged by this test; and it happens that the best fails in real life."

"Will repeat testing not improve their chance by sheer learning?"

"Hey, you sure are bright, P’Tarik. We considered that issue, but by changing the testing ground once a year, and I mean a complete change, it is impossible to plan what will happen. Nothing is the same when we change those 900 square miles. Consider this: today it is jungle warfare, next year it may be urban warfare, and the year after that they may find themselves in swamps, or in a very hot desert, or in mountains with very rough terrain, or in a cave system or under water. Who knows? We can even play on gravity! I have a collection of ideas that would give the Ancients’ training Sergeants envy cramps!" replied Sitar.

"Ten minutes to the gong!" said Ian. "It is time we take our stations Gentlemen. No one cheated so far, but the temptation must be increasing."

***

The gong resonated across the battlefield and immediately, predators of all sorts roared in challenge. It took less than a minute for a Mage to step into a vine trap and lose his wand. His dependency on the trinket deprived him of defences and he soon found himself being pulled toward his doom. Only the automatic activation of the recall mechanism saved his life.

"Zero, Sir," said Ian. "You did not even last a minute. Get back to the College. Here is your wand. Learn wand-less Magic as soon as you can. Depending on an artefact can have you killed."

Three minutes into the training, a Fighter engaged a mountain Lion and was immediately ported to the General Hospital when the Lion opened his belly with a swipe.

"Recording that Fighter at three points," said Harp.

And it continued. By sext, half of the Cohort was out of commission.

"If that continues like this we will be done by nones," said Sitar.

"Maybe not. The ones that are left are those that will pass or die trying," replied Yamato.

Indeed the number of recalls was declining steadily. Now, a weapon or a spell did in most that were recalled rather than an animal, as the heat of the day was making the predators sluggish. Traps still worked, and a couple lost to tar. Hand-made traps or weapons took down some Mages. One lost to an apparently dead Warrior, which waited until the Mage turned his back on him to slice his left foot Achilles’ tendon.

"You did not listen to our instructions. That is why you lost. We said we would recall a critically hurt individual. A dead person is evidently critically hurt!" said Harp. "Anyway your score is 350. You passed."

The day continued, and by vespers, only 20 contenders were left, half of them Mages. By then the predators were again hunting and it took only five minutes for the number of contenders to drop to 10, three Mages and seven Warriors.

"What happened?" asked P’Tarik as he saw the number of Mages melt like snow in a frying pan.

"They have not tuned their other senses. Eyes are totally useless in the gathering darkness, and most are also exhausted. Their lack of physical training and reliance on a single dominant sense is responsible for this," replied Sitar.

Just then two contenders met around a bend, and as the Mage threw an offensive spell the Warrior threw a knife. Both were immediately incapacitated and ended up with the exact same score, 380.

"Two Mages left, and six Warriors," said Harp.

A Mage ported a very furious Snake directly in the lap of a Warrior, who got bitten and disabled, to be immediately removed off the battlefield. Too focussed on watching the Warrior, the Mage did not see another Mage stand stealthily up and hex him with a cutting curse. By the time it registered he had been hexed, the Mage found himself in the General Hospital.

"Only one Mage and five Warriors," noted Harp.

An hour after vespers, only three contestants were left, a Mage and two Warriors. The Mage kept porting from place to place, in the hope of finding the last contestants, but he was simply not looking in the right place. One Warrior was hiding under water, using a cut cattail stem to breath from underwater, while the other lurked in a clump of tall trees, moving from high branch to high branch. The first to be picked up by nature was the Mage, who slipped on wet grass and broke a leg. The next one was the would-be Monkey, which misjudged the resistance of a branch. It broke under his weight and he fell right on a prowling Cat, knocking it out, as well as himself. The sole survivor was then recalled, after 7 hours and 45 minutes, for a total score of 465.

"You are today’s winner, with 465 points. Do no believe that this score means you have reason to inflate your ego. It is average for winners. We have seen scores ranging from half that to five times more. It only tells us that this group was average," Sitar informed the last contestant. "Report to the training grounds tomorrow at prime! You have a lot yet to learn."

Once the contestant had left, the Boys went to the mess hall and had a hardy supper. Their breakfast was long gone, and the lunch had been light, frequently interrupted by recalls and scorings.

***

Days continued on a routine. P’Tarik had finally mastered line-of-sight teleportation, and was training hard to gain in-flux teleportation, which would give him the capacity to fly. The difference between the two is quite simple to describe. Line-of-sight teleportation is static, whereas in-flux teleportation is dynamic and requires continuous transitions from point A to point B. P’Tarik had also expanded his telepathic bandwidth and range, and he was in the process of learning how to create objects. His language skills had exploded and he now could conceive new objects rather than duplicate pre-existing ones.

The number of Orcs now roaming in Thebes had reached over 100,000, and quite a few had found adoptive parents within the Atlanteans. The number of Magic-able Orcs was still limited, but Harp was looking at the reason behind it.

"Dad, the issue is two-fold: some do not have a magical core worth mention; but quite a few just cannot access it. I plan to fix the access problem by a quick stay within a stasis chamber. When that is done, we can fix the genetic issues that prevented them from having access in the first place."

"What about those that do not have a magical core worth mention?"

"They will have to live like the millions of others that do not. Eventually, since possession of a magical core is dominant, their descendants will have Magic. The fact that they are now living in tessaracts will prime the growth of magical cores, like fertiliser primes the growth of plants."

"How many Orcs have magical cores worthy of Mage training?"

"About one in 1,000. The Atlanteans are at one in 10 for Adults, and one in two, or 50% for Children born in Thebes’ tessaracts. By two generations, some 60 years from now, 80% will have Magic. By the end of the second century, I expect that, at least for Atlanteans, we will see maybe one Child in roughly 500 will lack Magic. Since non-magical beings do not live as long as magical beings, their proportion may well drop even more. I have no idea of the progression curve for Orcs, but it is probably going to be similar. After all, magical progression curves are parallel across species."

"What about those animals we rescued and that are now in the Ark project? Will they not gain Magic?"

"That is a question I have as yet no answer for. Enron and I are monitoring births, and so far, we have not seen a non-magical species gain significantly on that front. However, it remains one of our major focuses of preoccupation. After all, magical capabilities evolved naturally and there is no reason why it would not do so again, especially in animals living in tessaracts!"

"What will you do when it shows up?"

"We will cross that river when we reach its banks. Personally, I would favour adding that species to Atlantis’ ever-growing collection of allies. We rescued these species not so as to arrest their evolutionary progress but so it could continue. That living in a tessaract changes one of the constants of evolutionary pressure and produces more magical beings cannot be escaped. In fact, Elevation to space-faring species should be one of our goals."

"Sitar, is there any news concerning those Scavengers following us?"

"Yes, Ian. They are coming in three waves, with increasing delays for each. By the time thy reach the target star, we will be more than ready for them."

"It is not us that will be, it will be the star."

"Ian, what do you mean by that?"

"Do you remember star evolution for giants?"

"Yes, burn fast, live short lives."

"Well that star will be ready for them. And we will be gone."

I do not get it."

"Are far are we from it?"

"It is still a week off at our current speed."

"Planetary system?"

"It is composed of residual gaseous giants being burned by photo-erosion. It is a star about 1.5 times solar mass, therefore a main sequence star that has entered the last days of life, burning helium at its core with a residual layer of hydrogen at the surface," said Samson.

"Any sign of life?"

"No, not with the current situation."

"What about past conditions?" Paschal asked.

"It might have harboured life, if there was a set of rocky planets orbiting within the green band."

"Okay. I will prepare a time capsule for retrograde exploration. How far back was the conversion made?"

"From its entry into the main sequence as G3 to its current K3, I think about 9,000,000,000 years, give or take 500,000,000 years. From the emission spectra it is nearing the end of its K3 state. There is something you must know. It is a binary star system. The orbit of the planets were probably rather eccentric with important seasonal variations depending on which Sun was supplying the energy."

"That reduces the chance of any life evolving, but I will still send a time capsule. Who knows? Let us not neglect anything. Just because we believe that binaries do not allow life does not mean there never was. What is the red giant’s associate?"

"A red dwarf. That one has been in its main sequence ever since it lit up. It will not be out of it for another 30,000,000,000 years."

"Okay."

***

The Atlantean space ship emerged from warp drive to a scene no Man had ever seen. A red dwarf, orbiting a red giant and exchanging gases in a thick stream. Beyond, barely visible in the distance, a set of five giant planets was visible. The red giant was deformed by the gravitational pull of the red dwarf and pulsating as gravitational tidal waves travelled its apparent surface.

"The analysis of the planetary orbits reveals they are elliptic!" exclaimed Samson. "The planetary orbits are of P¹¹¹¹ ("There are two types of stable planetary orbits around a binary star system: S-type that orbit a single member of the pair; and P-type that orbit both stars; the later is only possible when the binary stars are close to each other.") type, with the stars separation at 0.4 AU¹²¹² ("AU: Astronomical Unit."), and there is exchange of mass from the red giant to the red dwarf. It probably was not always the case. There is a good chance there was a terrestrial planet located at approximately 1.4 AU."

"I am ejecting the time exploration capsule. The initial results are coming in. Backtracking at one year per second, accelerating to a decade to a century to a millennium to 10,000 years and now 100,000 years per second, stabilising."

"Are you not afraid of missing anything?"

"Not really, Dad. All I want is to establish a low and high range for life in this system. When we have found a planet with life, I will flood the time interval with time exploration capsules and we will comb the period more slowly, time-slicing the interval in blocks of 1,000,000 years initially, then, once we locate technical signs either before the time slice or during the time slice, we will further slice time and slow the process. It will take 2.77 hours per billion years. We should have an idea of the full scope within 28 hours."

"That is fine by us, Paschal. Enron! Put us in a P orbit at 1.6 AU. Sitar! Distribute long-range sensors around the system within the Oort cloud. Thorsten! Proceed to analyse mineral resources to find orichalque, mithril, water, oxygen, and other resources. See if you can find new types of metals as well."

Everyone went to work. Sensors were distributed in a sphere around the system, being placed within the Oort cloud to prevent easy detection of their presence. Harp left the bridge with P’Tarik after the orbital insertion.

"P’Tarik, let us go eat a bit then I will introduce you to one of the Dragons nest. Typhoon is already waiting for us at the gate."

"Why?"

"Because you are ready to bond to a Dragon. You can fly, and you will find yourself a Dragon today. The King of the Dragons, Typhoon said so himself after seeing you fly yesterday."

P’Tarik was a bit nervous. He had seen Dragons fly either in their tessaract or within the core of Thebes, but he never had gone close to one until today. How would he be received? They made their way to the proper tessaract and were met by a widely grinning Typhoon.

"Hello there, Harp! And this is your not so little protégé, P’Tarik?"

"Yes, Typhoon. He is nervous."

"How about a Dragon ride to get to the nest? It is nest number 34, and it is rather far off in the volcanic chain."

Typhoon changed to his Golden Dragon form, and P’Tarik followed Harp in dynamically porting to the neck of Typhoon.

«Are you ready?»

«Yes. P’Tarik, hold to me I am sure Typhoon whoa!"

Typhoon took off in a spinning candle and then levelled off at 10,000 feet.

«Everyone still with me?»

«Yes you prankster! I can hear P’Tarik’s jaws trying to drum the charge of the light Cavalry!»

«Is that pee I am feeling between my scales?»

«Yes! And you deserve every drop!» replied P’Tarik, finding the Dragons’ range.

«Ah! A hot-tempered Boy! He will fit in nicely!»

After about an hour of flight, the Dragon King took a dive into a chimney leading to a Dragons’ nest. Once they had landed on the volcanic sand, the Dragon King unceremoniously shoved his two passengers off his shoulders, watching as they both gracefully landed on their feet. He converted back to his Gold Dragon Boy form, a smirk on his face and dripping from his back.

"P’Tarik, you are thereby accepted as candidate to bond to a Dragonling. You passed the test with flying colours!" said Typhoon, with a wide grin. "Come see the Nest Mother."

After some introductions, P’Tarik and the two others that were to receive their bonded that day waited for the eggs to hatch. According to the nest Mother, it would be a Green, a Gold, and a Red Dragon. Waiting wit P’Tarik for the momentous event was a Unicorn and a Pegasus. Therefore, P’Tarik was the smallest of the three. The Orc was surprised at how friendly the other two were, and he asked them if he could visit their family once they had raised their Dragonlings. Everyone thought this was a great idea and accepted wholeheartedly. P’Tarik also invited everyone to visit the Orc colony, that kept growing.

"There are good reasons for my invitation as well. I learned that the first Orc Adults would be released at about the same time we will have finished raising the Dragonlings. I am not so sure of their attitude even if Harp and the Healers say they have their memories wiped out. Habits die hard and I think jealousy will prop its ugly head up when the Adults realise that their Children have a better future then they ever will get."

"Jealous of the success of their Children? How inconsiderate!" Typhoon said.

"King Typhoon, I am not naïve to the point of being blind to my peoples’ limitations. I have paid a visit to the Hospital and asked the Healers to give me access to Orc memory threads of my choice. What I found was appalling. I am shocked at our social mores, and I am grateful that the Atlanteans deemed us worthy of saving given what I have discovered. I am not sure I would have done the same thing, had I been in their shoes and faced with that kind of society. In fact, I considered asking the Healers to dispose of the Adults. But then I remembered a comment by the Heir: forgive them for they do not know what they were doing. So I forgave for the loss of my parents and siblings, but I will never forget. I cannot forget, and forgetting would be showing disrespect not only for my parents and siblings but also for the billions of other victims, either in the Orc nests or during the raids. I have problems understanding how you can even tolerate my presence, Harp. I studied your history, and I was stunned to learn what I did. I forgave because the Royal Family of Atlantis has shown me how by forgiving me and my kind for the horrors we bestowed on their kin."

«I had my doubts about an Orc raising one of my Dragonlings. You have alleviated them, young one.» said the Nest Mother.

«Thank you for your kind words Nest Mother. I have talked to my colony siblings, and they all agree we have received a lot more than we deserved. We exchange with the other Orc colonies, and everyone has praise for the efforts the Atlanteans have expanded in their efforts to bring us into their culture while giving us a sense of identity. We hope the Adults will also see this in a positive light."

"How many colonies are there?" asked Typhoon.

"Currently, about 1,500, spread over 3,000 square miles. We occupy a square mile or so per colony, leaving a mile between each group. It makes for easier management, since everyone knows everyone."

"Have you visited many?"

"I insist on visiting each in turn. Usually, when I am done with a day’s work, I pick either a freshly established colony, made up of releases of the day, or if there has been none, or it has yet to be completed, I visit another one. I have a list. During breaks, I visit one colony every two hours, for a total of six in that day. It lets me keep up somewhat."

"Have you found P’Tool yet?" asked Harp, as an egg began to crack.

"Yes. He was the same prick he was before. I dunked him in the river a minute before bringing him back on the shore. I must admit your methods have some merit! When I brought him out, he had a Fish between the teeth!"

"And?" asked Typhoon, laughing.

"He was shaking so much he looked like a Dog out of a bathtub. If eyes could kill, I would be dead. Luckily, he has no Magic whatsoever, and, apart from raw strength, his motor abilities are limited as well so he will not be a mental or physical threat to Atlantis. However I would like to ask you a favour, Harp."

"Sure."

"Can you monitor his thinking process and trigger some alarm or what not if he ever tries anything stupid? I would not put it beyond him to stir trouble if he has the occasion. So far, he has not had success, but with the Adults, it might be a different matter."

"Sure. Magic can detect intent. It is sophisticated, but well within my capacity. We will pay him a visit later today. After all, you do not need to stay here all the time. Dragonlings sleep a lot after they have been fed."

The Green Dragonling moved to the Unicorn and began rubbing its head on the Mare.

"One preliminary bonding done. You know what to do."

After cleaning up the Dragonling and feeding it its first meal, the Unicorn got rid of the eggshell. By then the Red Dragonling had managed to extirpate itself from the egg and made its way toward the Pegasus. The process was repeated and another bond was forged. Finally, the Gold Dragonling emerged and moved to P’Tarik, which immediately cleansed it up, fed it, and got rid of the eggshell pieces.

"We are done for about three hours. P’Tarik, let us jump to where you found P’Tool and I will fix him up so he cannot stir trouble without getting handled a proper reprimand," said Harp. "Send me the image."

The two Mages popped directly in an Orc village, and found P’Tool brooding. While P’Tarik talked to the Orc, Harp placed a series of triggers that would bring the Orc to the brig should he try anything against Atlantis or, for that matter, against P’Tarik or other Orcs. Harp decided to keep that little program extension to himself, just so as not to tempt fate. That way, P’Tarik would be less likely to try triggering an inappropriate action from P’Tool. The whole process was over in less than 10 seconds. A wink told P’Tarik it was done.

"P’Tool, may I introduce you to my boss, Harp Prince of Magic, Great Grand Master Merlin of Atlantis?"

"It is an honour," said P’Tool glumly.

"The honour is all mine. P’Tarik told me of your long-lasting friendship."

"I feel lost as to why I, or for that matter, we are here? Where are we? Where is our home? What happened to my parents?"

"As a quick answer, I will say you are here because we decided that Orc Children and a certain number of Adults were valuable either as designers, artists, workmen, and engineers and deserved to survive, so we did a rescue from your condemned planet. You are aboard a space ship travelling through the stars, currently 270 light-years away from your original planet. A combination of factors destroyed your home: the Moon fell; there was a collision between the Earth and a rogue planet, and finally a black hole is eating its core. As to what happened to your parents, I have no idea yet. Adults are still all in stasis, and no Adult is due out for another eight or nine months. P’Tarik, let us get going. You have a Dragonling to feed. P’Tool, report to training grounds at dawn. Inaction is making you moody. Just ask where it is and you will be told."

***

Harp walked in the College of Magic mess Hall with a determined step. As he passed each row of students, the silence grew; he climbed the series of steps leading to the top dais and, snapping his fingers, made for the table that was reserved for his personal use vanish. He turned on himself, sat down on the throne, and looked at the collection of upturned faces coldly.

"A week ago, I brought an Orc to test his magical core and one of the students, rather than admit I had the authority to do so, tried to kill me. Last week, I showed you I was not a push-over. Today, I will show you I can have mercy and the reason why I am called the Prince of Magic. Watch, be quiet and learn!"

Harp stood and opened his left hand. Gradually, a shiny, dark-silvery sphere appeared in it, growing in brightness and size.

"This is the magical core of the student I so messily disposed of! Look at its colour! It is dark grey, indicating the student’s Magic had been used to perform actions that were self-serving, egocentric, and blatantly and intentionally Dark. He was well on his way to becoming a Dark Mage, all this because ethics has taken a second seat to the search for Power. Now watch!"

Harp used his left hand to hold the sphere and his right hand began hovering above it. Gradually, a dark, black substance migrated from the left to the right hand, until, finally, two spheres were seen by all: one brilliantly white, the other darker than night. Harp closed his right hand violently, and a powerful explosion occurred, accompanied by a pungent foul smell.

"Thus is dispersed Dark Magic! Had it been still in his core, the soul itself would have been destroyed! Let this be a lesson for all of you. You are here to serve! This is lesson number one. Now to lesson number two!"

Harp opened his now empty right hand and a second sphere formed, substantially bigger than the one still held in his left hand.

"This is the Soul of the student. It contains who he is, what he has learned in all his reincarnations, all six hundred forty-nine of them, which, truth be told, is not much. I wiped out the last instants of his previous life. If you look at it, its colour is grey, again, but less than with the magical core it used to possess. The soul’s colour indicates that it was beginning to get tainted by the Dark Magic. Had it turned totally black, I would not have bothered doing what I am considering. Look at the new, lesser magical core that is left!"

Everyone saw the bright, blindingly white core sticking to Harp’s left palm like glue.

"This is purified Magic. I ask you this: should I return the Magic to the Soul? Let me be honest, he will be a lot weaker than he was, because the destruction of the dark part of his Magic core represented a fair share of his potential. He can either wait for another life to begin accruing Magic, or I can return the purified Magic to his soul, and he will start with this diminished core."

After waiting for five minutes, Harp took the bull by the horns.

"I shall merge the Magic back with the Soul. I do not fathom why no one proposed this. Had I decided otherwise, it would have left him open to assault by Soul-eaters, which may well still roam the Cosmos. Have you learned nothing in this College? Magic is not a collection of spells, it is not a cook-book stored in dusty tomes and rotting sheep-skin scrolls! Magic is your ultimate protection against many Enemies, including those who you think no longer exist! You were willing to let the viper infiltrate your ranks once more out of ignorance! Nestor, I’ll personally kick the butt of the teachers of the theory of Magic if this continues! Now, watch for the next phase!"

Harp merged the magical core with the Soul and brought the reconstructed sphere to view.

"See the vapour escaping the sphere? It is Magic cleaning the Soul of its corrupt elements. I am actively confining it into the 13^th dimension so it does not try to attack you. Now, the last step!"

To the surprise of everyone, nothing seemed to happen, but gradually, a mass of protoplasm materialised. It took shape, grew in mid-air, and finally, it solidified. Everyone gasped, for, in front of all to see, was the student so summarily dispatched by Harp earlier. The body looked dead, and it was. Suddenly, Harp inserted his right hand in the skull of the corpse and released the reconstituted Soul, binding it to the body. Removing his hand, he stated:

"From Dust to Dust, let there be Life!"

A powerful spark left his right hand’s middle finger, and the body was travelled by powerful spasms before taking a huge breath, and descending on the dais. Harp then walked out of the Hall, not turning back.

"Nestor, you better get off your arse and start fixing that College before I have to come back. I love you, Grandpa, but it does not, will not, excuse laxity in the curriculum!" was heard by the entire College, even if Harp was now well outside the building.

Shivers ran down the back of all who heard Harp’s parting comment, as the student shakily stood on his feet, helped by a compassionate teacher. He looked around, wide-eyed, and muttered:

"What happened? One moment, there was this powerful flash accompanied by excruciating pain, and then everything was dark, cold, and sort of senseless, then there was that painful pull and I’m here."

Nestor took pity on the young man and explained.

"You assaulted the Prince of Magic, trying to kill him. He tore your magical core out, killed you and now he has reversed the process, in the hope that you, and us, will have learned a lesson."

«Not a lesson, but lessons, Nestor!» thundered Harp.