Serial
63: Verboten
February 2nd, 33 S.D. 10:20 Binfort, Henron
Although the Henron stronghold of Darfort served as their chief base of operations for the war with Sventa, historically, Binfort was the clan’s central military command. It sat but a few kilometers outside the Henron capital, within sight of Heigon’s court actually. This far into their territory, Binfort had not been built to protect Henron lands, though it could in times of great need. Instead, the real role of Binfort was twofold. Its foremost function was that of an academy and training camp for their army. The secondary purpose of the sprawling complex was to foster research into advanced weaponry.
Here, deep within its restricted labs, the likes of many deadly tools came to life. Binfort had formerly housed a number of the biochemical concoctions Suvla designed, and it also played host to nearly all of the Avil’s machinations. The engineers of Binfort had even fabricated the black knives Koter used during his first battle with Losha. While the soldiers at large were the raw might of Henron’s martial branch, a small team of intellects formulated ways to further that same strength. With the rise of the Wolf of Sventa, with the coming of an art like nothing they’d ever seen before, these scientists pushed themselves to their limit trying to counter serialization. Thus far, the Wolf had proved nigh unstoppable; at least nothing they’d developed could even phase her. That, as they hoped, was about to change.
Prime Lead Govan, having been urgently summoned, walked along a broad hallway on the second floor. The head of the Weapons Development Bureau had announced a possible breakthrough on the matter. While they had the Wolf in custody, Govan believed it was imperative to have abilities equal to or greater than Losha’s. Who could say if she were the only serialist Henron would face? What if they were challenged by an even stronger foe? In general, they could always use that sort of power, especially without another campaign approaching.
Despite Govan’s familiarity with Binfort’s layout, he had to admit that some areas were rather unknown to him. Many of the side-corridors in Weapons Development fell under this category. He’d been down this way only a few times on previous occasions, and none of them were recent. Thankfully, Weapons Development, like the rest of Binfort itself, remained impeccably organized and navigable. The office of Doctor Sansat Romos, the principal researcher of the bureau, stood open when Govan came. In contrast with the dark and cluttered chambers Govan often imagined, Sansat’s workspace was wide, well-lit, and spacious. The morning’s sunlight poured in through an array of windows behind his desk. Perhaps, the Prime Lead thought, he’d too easily believed the stereotypes surrounding this sort of job. At any rate, Govan found Sansat staring out over the snow-covered plains. The doctor tucked one arm behind his back while another cradled a wooden pipe. Sansat did not immediately notice Govan’s presence until his visitor stepped upon the metal tile spread across the floor.
“Ah, Ver Govan, at last the two of us meet,” Sansat smiled, whirling around, throwing up both arms to the side. Govan simply nodded in return.
“Ver Romos,” he said.
Sansat was an odd fellow in that he was nominally Henron. He heralded from some Gandian land many years ago as a small boy and later found himself adopted. Though he was not native to the Central Plains, no one could tell this by the way he spoke. His words carried neither accent nor awkwardness; he was a master of the Asten tongue. His name alone, however, always revealed his true origins. He’d never bothered to adapt his surname to suit his second homeland. Nevertheless, the doctor had demonstrated his patriotism countless times. Today, it seemed, he would take it a step farther.
“You had something to show me? A way for us to gain power on the level of serialization?”
“Sa, well, I would like to ‘present’ something to you; this is more accurately put.”
Sansat took one last puff before setting the pipe on the desk. He moved around the edges of his station and came up to a narrow bookcase. Scanning the appropriate row, his finger trailed along the titles until it plucked the right one.
“Now, while I find the relevant page, Prime Lead,” Sansat said, flipping through hordes of print. “I would like to know how feasible it would be for a man of your position to have access to the Lost Grounds.”
Govan frowned for a moment. The Lost Grounds were a particularly guarded and sealed area of Henron located in their northern woodlands. He was not aware of the precise details, but ever since Henron’s founding as a clan, his people had placed heavy prohibitions on its entry.
“I would assume authorization rests with Heigon himself.”
“So lucky that the two of you are close...” Sansat mused.
“Why do you ask, doctor?” Govan folded his arms. “I am sure you heard the stories. You know, the sort of tales children hear on dark nights. Common folklore says that the Lost Grounds hold the bones of an ancient monsters. For fear of somehow reawakening the beast, our ancestors forbade anyone to come near it.”
“And do you believe that?”
“Hmph. Just an old legend that has outlived its time. Frankly, it annoys me that we waste resources securing that place. I suppose tradition cannot be helped.”
“Do not be so hasty to judge the past,” Sansat said as he took the book over to his desk. “Behind every myth resides a modicum of truth, a small kernel grounded in fact.”
“What do you mean to say?” Govan asked. Sansat urged him to come closer. They looked down at several passages written before them.
“There is something buried within the Lost Grounds, a relic of a great terror. Not bones, but an artifact all the same.”
Govan leaned forward, studying the spot Sansat pointed to. Rows of text filled these pages. He recognized the characters, but the words themselves lacked any meaning.
“Is this Gandian?” he asked. The Prime Lead, like many Astens, had never learned how others spoke across the Continent.
“An older variant, sa. It chronicles many oddities from around the world. It also happens to touch extensively upon the subject of the Lost Grounds.”
“And what exactly does it describe? This so-called artifact of yours?”
“Indeed,” Sansat nodded as he traced his finger around a series of paragraphs. “Allow me to translate and condense this segment. It states here that a horrifying creature perished long ago, on the very land where the Lost Grounds stand. Although its body is no more, the remnants of its power are said to still exist.”
Govan breathed in deeply. “I must say, doctor, I do not put much faith in fables. There may be something there in the Lost Grounds, but I doubt it will be anything we can use in a war. A superstitious object from the past perhaps, some archeological find, but surely not a weapon. I was expecting to see something more concrete here.”
“I had a feeling you would say as much,” Sansat smiled as he reached into his pocket. He extracted a small black stone. Rough and angular, the shard looked as if it had broken from a larger piece. Sansat held it aloft in his hand, pinching it with three delicate digits.
“What is that?”
“A sample of the artifact I mentioned. While we could not investigate the Lost Grounds themselves, we found these all around its perimeter.”
“Sa,” Govan said, eying the rock. “So, where is the power in this pebble?”
“That was my first thought as well. My team and I struggled to understand any of it. I was certain that there was a secret inside, however, it kept looking more and more like a dead-end. Fortunately, our greatest foe provided us with inspiration, a discovery that unraveled this enigma.”
“You mean the Wolf? What has she to do with this curious stone of yours?”
“Do you know what serialization is, Ver Govan?” Sansat clenched the rock suddenly, wrapping it tightly around his hand as he walked to the other end of his desk. The Prime Lead raised an eyebrow at this question. Just where was Sansat taking this conversation?
“Supposedly,” the doctor continued, “it is the process of drawing energy from the soul and using that for action. It is the power of an individual’s essence. I have devoted my life to the material world, a realm of physics, tangible objects we can hold in our hands.” He turned around, holding his fist in front of his face. “Yet, this woman - this serialist as the people call her - she demonstrates a field we know little about, an art that seemed fantastically implausible but became all too real for us. The soul, Govan, holds many mysteries. This stone is but one of them. Judging from your face, I have yet to convince you apparently. Allow me to ease your mind.”
Briefly, he placed the black rock off to the side. Sansat then stooped to the floor and retrieved a wooden box. Opening it, with both hands the doctor pulled out what looked to be a metal bowl of some kind. The rim was incredibly thick. Its interior formed a hexagon.
“That is a unique dish, Ver Romos. I hope it does more than just look peculiar.”
“Patience, Prime Lead. I just need to fix this battery here,” Sansat said, taking a bulky cube from the box. He connected it to the bowl via two colored wires. As soon as they linked together, sparks leaped all over the rock, dancing wildly around it. The process quickly died down, however.
“Alright...” Govan said, tilting his head and rubbing his chin.
“That was simply the first step. Let the device settle. While we wait, notice how the stone conducts electricity exceedingly well, for a time at least. Quite anomalous for something with no detectable traces of metal. We have done a thorough analysis on its composition. It is entirely carbon.”
“Graphite?”
“We thought as much, given its color and the spectacle you just saw. This stone is similar, sa, but the hardness is wrong. Whatever we have here, it seems comparable to diamonds. However, there is something inside we cannot see. Ah, it should be ready. Prime Lead, please put your hand over the stone.”
“As long as it does something,” Govan said as he extended his arm. With an open palm, his hand hovered above the specimen. Instantly, the rock began to radiate a white light. Along its very edges, a silver aura took shape. At the same time, Govan felt something rush through him, a wave or a pulse. Grunting, he pulled back. He looked at his limb, holding it up before his eyes.
“Doctor,” he said firmly.
“Sa, sa, have no fear, Ver Govan. Everything is fine. When the same happened to us, we were equally shocked.”
“Shock is one of the lesser phrases I would use. What was that?”
“You felt it, did you not? That twinge within you, something deep reacting inside. Where do you think it hit you?” Govan examined himself. Had it been his chest? His gut? His entire body?
“I cannot say. Not single portion by itself comes to mind. It simply struck... me.”
Sansat nodded vigorously, grinning all the while. “Sa, sa! Excellent. That is a very apt way of conveying the experience. It ran through you. Your core. Your soul.”
“What ran through me?” the Prime Lead asked, folding his arms once more.
“What we believe to be the very same source of power at the foundation of serialization: seras. It appears that the energy of the soul, for whatever reason, can be stored in this form, this stone. We have all read the reports. The same sort of light surrounds the Wolf during battle.” Sansat put his hand atop the stone. The brilliance encircled the stone, but as he kept his arm steady, the light crept up on him, enveloping everything up to his elbow.
“It even surrounds us,” the doctor noted. He removed himself; the phenomenon halted altogether.
“This is impressive,” Govan said thoughtfully. “But I need more than just light. I cannot blind the entire Sventa army into submission.”
“True enough. However, consider that there are great applications for this stone. While we have an energy source, we do not yet know how to utilize it. It is one thing to have fire, but how does one convert that force into action? How does one make the shift to gunpowder and steam engines? That is the next question we face. Where do we reach true progress and real application? Once we answer that though, we shall be on our way to gaining remarkable powers for ourselves. We know that this stone can be activated and how; we are on the verge of controlling it. From here, it is merely a matter of time. Now that you have witnessed the potential of this material, I need to ask of you two very bold requests, Prime Lead. As audacious as they are, remember, they are necessary to develop a completely new category of weapons.”
“I am listening, doctor,” Govan said. “What do you want?”
Sansat shuffled the battery and wires back into the box. He gingerly removed the stone from the bowl. “Naturally, I want my team and I to have access to the Lost Grounds. We have strong reasons to believe that richer deposits of this mysterious substance lie within that site. We have never recorded this type of rock before anywhere in Henron, or anywhere else for that matter. That it permeates the area around the Lost Grounds signals that the greater source resides on that forbidden land.”
“I do not know how Heigon will respond, if only for the fact that no one in modern history has ever asked to go there. But I doubt he would pass up the opportunity to wield something fit to stand against Losha. Although, with her incarceration she is not exactly a target anymore.”
“Which brings me to the next thing that I require,” Sansat said. “I need to talk with the Wolf, face-to-face. An interview if you will.”
“Why?”
“Is it not obvious?” Sansat shrugged. “She knows the most about what we are trying to understand. Who else can we turn to?”
“But will she comply? We are her enemy, and we are not exactly giving her our highest hospitality.”
Sansat laughed as he tucked the bowl back into the box and shut the lid. “Come now, Ver Govan. Our prisons are very persuasive places. What really matters is ‘how’ one asks questions.”
Govan could but shake his head. “Somehow, I do not think Losha will say much, even under torture.”
“As long as she is bound, she is perfectly helpless,” the doctor insisted.
“Hmph. You too greatly underestimate her. Science and warfare are quite alike. When you do not have sufficient data, Sansat, you make no assumptions. She may not be able to serialize, but she is still a fighter, and certainly more skilled than you in combat.”
Sansat frowned for a moment. “So, will you at least let me probe her?”
“Sa, on the condition that her escape means the end of your life. She must not leave Navaran at any cost.”
“You are a strict man, Prime Lead, I understand that. You have to be. Make no mistake, she will remain put. Just remind yourself of the rewards. If we succeed here, people like Losha will mean nothing to Henron. We will not just win the war with Sventa, but against any clan.”
“As you know by now, we are both men of results. When this new breed of weapon becomes something I can grasp in my hand, only then will I factor it into the coming battles. Until then, I am at least hopeful. You shall have what you wanted, so make any necessary preparations now. I shall send word back to you once you have been cleared for entry into the Lost Grounds. I will grant you a meeting with the Wolf; that is within my command. I do not know which you wish to do first.”
“Hmm... I suppose I will see what can be ascertained from the infamous serialist herself.”
“Very well then,” Govan said. “I will inform my soldiers to expect you.”
“Thank you, Prime Lead. Do you still have doubts about this?”
“I am just... uncertain.” Govan conceded. “You know as well as anyone how strange it is to contemplate these things. Humans with arts that can upend wars. Tales of ancient monsters lurking in forest depths. And now rocks with the ability to shape the path of our future. I appreciated such stories for their diversions, but it is something else when you must take them seriously. And yet, how times are changing. The Central Plains grow more and more mystic by the day. I guess it has not registered with me just yet.”
Govan found himself staring at his chest. He cleared his throat suddenly, raising his head. “At any rate, good work. Let us pray these endeavors of yours yield success for all Henron.”
“I will strive for nothing less, Prime Lead,” Sansat nodded.
“I know this appointment has been short, but I have other business to attend to. If you need further resources from me, do not hesitate to inquire. I look forward to your progress.”
“As do I, Ver Govan.”
The Prime Lead made his exit. Sansat smiled to himself as he picked up his pipe. From his pocket, he took out a few bits of tobacco. He didn’t smoke that much, not in one day at least, however, there was reason to celebrate. Things were finally getting started. Just as he’d been told, the scion of serialization had arrived. With her, with Losha Holvate Sventa, the most powerful craft ever invented had returned to these lands. Lighting the ground up leaves, he soon inhaled the burning fumes. He let loose a long puff, shooting a straight stream of gas between his lips. Turning back to the windows, he peered out at the endless white fields.
“How long has it been, how many years of forgotten history have passed since the world last saw serialization? All that was once known was once erased, but no more Nabel. No more. We have no need for your puppets like that girl. We will recover the art for ourselves, assume the right you so greedily hold for yourself... One way or another, we shall gain what you stole from everyone. And to think, it all starts with this...”
Sansat picked up the black rock, rotating it around. No matter how many times he held it, he could not but find himself captivated. Though the form itself was small, the capabilities therein were anything but tiny. All he had to do was unlock it, and then he could restore what had been wiped out ages ago. Sansat noticed that he’d left the book open on his desk. Drawing in another breath through his pipe, he grabbed the tome, cradling it in one hand as he looked over its cryptic lines. Every page contained the words of a language that had long since died off centuries before. Some individuals like him, however, were able to recall the messages behind these abandoned letters. Through great efforts of his own and the select aid of others, the doctor had managed to gain substantial proficiency with the old script.
He glanced over the other stories slowly until he stopped upon one in particular. It spoke of a renown sage who brought his people out of darkness through his wisdom. As this knowledge spread across the world, he paved the way for humanity’s prosperity. However, there were those who carelessly used the savant’s teachings. By accident or some other intent, they summoned a giant upon the world. This massive being could not be tempered, and as such, it brought ruin to everything in its sight. The earth split open, and then the sage, the people, and the giant were all cast into an eternal abyss, never to be seen again. Sansat frowned as he finished it. He didn’t quite care for such pitiful endings. Something about them irked him, as if he wanted to step into the story itself and undo all the death and tragedy. Quickly, he shut the book and slid it off to the side.
“I know we will not make the same errors again. Not this time.”
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