Pathspace: The Space of Paths (11 page)

The Pope opened his mouth to respond, but he
said nothing. There was a sharp whistle and a crack! (Jeffrey could
not distinguish which came first) and his body slumped forward.

There was a moment of shocked silence.

A wave of dizziness passed
through Jeffrey.
What the hell just happened?
Then he found his voice.

“
I do believe,” he said, “
that our audience is at an end.”

Lester:
“swaddled with darkness”

“All the 'magic' I know,” said Xander, “is
accomplished through the use of one or more of
pathspace
(the space of paths),
spinspace
(the space of spins), and
tonespace
(the space of energy). Each of these is the
application of infinite-dimensional space in which certain forms
are embedded. The forms and their embedding determine all of the
available “knots” in n+1 dimensional spacetime. The are like simple
machines, such as the inclined plane, the screw, and the lever,
which are combined appropriately to form more complex
technology.”

“We shall begin with
pathspace
– the
space of paths.”

“That sounds redundant,” said Les. “Having a
space of paths sounds a little like having a liquid of
wetness.”

“I am the one giving the training,” said
Xander. “Therefore we shall use
my
terminology for the
convenience of the instructor. Allow me to explain. In order for an
object to move in a path, there must be space for the path to exist
in. The space containing all possible paths is therefore called
pathspace
.

“
To use
pathspace
is to employ a particular way of looking at the
world, especially the local region of spacetime. When mind embraces
its interaction with space, time and matter, amazing things can be
accomplished. Like making or fixing the Gifts of the Tourists.”

“But how do you 'use'
pathspace
?”

“It is a matter,” said Xander, “of
visualizing what path-probabilities you want to emphasize. All
paths are potential, of course, but only one path exists at any
particular time and position. Every point is a position, therefore
the set of configurations is the set of all paths going through all
points at all moments on all timelines.”

“I still don't see anything practical in all
this.”

“Do you remember how I vanished, back at the
inn?”

“I remember that you sent me off for more
ale to distract me. I was sure you'd left.”

“It is a thing done with
pathspace
,”
he said. “Do you know how vision works? Bit of light energy the
ancients called photons bounce off objects and fly into your eye,
where they strike nerves that can detect their presence. You cannot
see in total darkness, for there are no visible photons to sense.
You also cannot see objects behind walls. I could have hidden
myself in a sack, but you and the soldiers would have seen the
sack.”

“What I don't understand,” Les told him, “is
why you bothered to disappear, if you were going to let them find
you eventually and return you to the Governor.”

“What I actually did,” said Xander, ignoring
him, “was to alter the pathspace around my body so that the bits of
light flew around me instead of bouncing off me. I was still there,
in the corner, but no one could see me. I was also in darkness
myself, since the photons were avoiding me so I had none to see
with.”

“How did you do that?”

“The region of deflection can be woven in
several ways. I chose a simple floor-to-ceiling cylinder. Of
course, I had to leave the table or distortions would have given me
away.”

“And you were blind all the time you were
invisible?”

“That's the price for dodging the light. It
dodges you right back.” The old wizard put an apple on the table.
“Watch,” he said.

After a few moments the apple disappeared.
“It is still there,” he remarked, and guided Les until he found
himself looking down from above it. And there it was. “This time I
used a shorter cylinder, so you can manage to look into it from
above. Smaller concealments are easier because there is less
imagining work to do to weave the
pathspace
. Now please sit
down again.”

Les resumed his former seated position.
After a moment the apple appeared again.

Xander pushed his chair back. “Now you are
going to try it. This will be your first bit of the magic.”

“I don't see how I am supposed to be able to
affect the pathspace, as you call it.”

“That's a discussion for another time,”
Xander told him. “Suffice it to say that when your mind visualizes
the way you want it to be, as opposed to the way it is now, there
will be an exchange of information between your mind and the
universe, and it will have the effect of persuading the manifest
pathspace configuration to align itself with what you are
imagining. The more that you believe it will work, the more effect
you will have on the pathspace.”

Les tried to fathom those sentences. The
first was a random stew of words, but at least the second was
straightforward, and he saw a problem tight away. “How am I
supposed to believe something will happen that I've never done
before?”

Xander grinned at that. “That, lad, is the
trick of it. I won't lie to you, it will be hard at first. But as
you succeed you will find it easier to believe, and your power will
get stronger. You've already seen that
I
can do it. So you
do know that it is possible. I learned the same way you are going
to learn. The key is the connection between your mind and the
universe of configurations, and living around the coldbox and the
everflame back at your father's inn has already made it possible –
by exposing your mind to it.”

Les tried to concentrate on the apple,
imagining a cylinder around it that made the light avoid it. At
first nothing seemed to be happening. Grimacing, he tried to let
the frustration go and tried again. For a moment the apple became a
little transparent – he was seeing
through
it a little. As
soon as he noticed this, however, he was distracted by it and the
apple became opaque again. But that didn't matter. He had done it,
even though only a little!

“You almost had it,” Xander commented. “It
looked like we were seeing through it, because some of the light
reflecting off the table behind it was going around the apple and
reaching our eyes, as if it wasn't in the way. You see – you
can
do it. From now on it's just a matter of doing a better
job, and then fixing it so it stays invisible when you stop
concentrating.”

“How do I do that? Make it stay that way
when I'm not working on it?”

“By imagining that it will – visualizing it
as permanent. I can't describe it exactly, of course, but that
doesn't matter. You'll get the hang of it, without knowing how you
are doing it. And when you can do that, well, then we can move on
to other things.”

Les was still staring at the apple. “Other
things?”

“You'll also learn about
spinspace
and
tonespace
. They are handled in a similar way, by
visualizing what you want and letting the configuration adjust
itself to match. But before you can learn about them, you need to
master
pathspace
. I always begin with teaching
pathspace
, and the first application is always this cloaking
spell.”

“Why?” said Les, looking up from the apple
to the wizard's face.

“Because there are people who do not like
wizards,” said Xander. “And sometimes even the best of us may need
to hide, to stay alive.”

Peter:
“Teach us to care and not to care”

There was no doubt in his mind that it was
an assassination. But how? After tense moments and the Runt's droll
comment, Peter decided that there had been only one target. But
targeted by who? And how had they accomplished it?

His hand was on his sword hilt. Forcing
himself to let go of it he sprang to the throne examine Rodrigo's
body. He found the hole in seconds. The blood made it easy. “Looks
like he was shot,” he grunted. “A clean hole in the right
temple.”

“That cache of weapons your men found,” said
Jeffrey. “Could someone have snuck some out?”

He shook his head. “Even if they had, the
old ammo would have been useless. The potions they Ancients used to
propel their bullets go bad after only a few decades. And no one
has made any like the ones we found in over two hundred years.” He
let go of the body and strode over to his left, to what had been
Rodrigo's right. What he had taken to be an overly ornamental
carved wooden panel was, in fact, a privacy screen that was
effectively opaque from a distance but sufficiently perforated to
allow observation of the audiences by advisors.

Church personnel. That was a mistake, he
decided, that had cost Rodrigo his life.

Jeffrey was approaching. Peter hustled him
away from the screen and pushed him flat against a solid wall on
the same side of the chamber. “Don't move. Whoever fired from
behind there might still be there, or come back. Guards! Someone
GET IN HERE!”

A door on the side opened and two men in
cardinal red darted in. They skidded to a halt at the sight of
Rodrigo's slumped body, blood now draining from the side of his
head.

“Someone has killed the Pope!” he said.
“Seal up the place and inform the papal guard immediately.” When
they just stood there, aghast, he grimaced, spun on his heel and
ran for the main entrance at the far end of the chamber.

Jeffrey:
“She gives when our attention is
distracted”

After his father left the
room, he wondered how safe it was for him to remain there himself.
Whatever weapon had slain the Pontiff could be seeking other
targets. But none of it made sense! If his father was right about
the shelf life of the ancient ammunition, no gun of their
manufacture could have done this. He knew from his studies that in
even more ancient times,
bullets
were missiles flung not by hand cannons, but by peltasts,
slingers who hurled their projectiles by the use of muscle
alone.

But try as he might, he could not make
himself believe in a slinger adept enough to throw his rock or lead
pellet miraculously through one of the small holes in the
perforated screen his father had examined.. No way. Then, how?
Someone had done it – and without 'gun powder'.

The two clerics had exited, jabbering to
each other in obvious agitation. After they did so, however,
another, calmer personage strode in through the same door. He was,
like them, dressed in cardinal red, but seemed much younger, hardly
older than Jeffrey himself.

“
Please come with me,
Excellency,” he said. “We need to talk.”

“
We do?” Jeffrey scowled.
“Who the hell are you? If you want His Excellency, then you're
looking for my father. He's the Honcho, not me.”

“
For the moment, that is
true,” the stranger agreed. “He is the Honcho, as poor Rodrigo was
the Pope. But things change, and I should like to speak to you of
such changes.”

“
You mean, how such
changes might be … facilitated?” Jeffrey's eyes narrowed. “You
don't seem to be very surprised by Pope Rodrigo's assassination.
Almost as if you expected this
change
.”

“
Indeed. Will you follow
me to a more private conference room? In a minute or two this
chamber is going to be too busy for reasoned discourse.”

“
A man was just killed
right before my eyes,” he said. “You must pardon me if I appear a
little paranoid at the moment. I'm thinking it might be better to
remain here until my father returns.”

The man in red smiled. “Better is a relative
term, Excellency. The sooner we confer, the better, for Fate is a
fickle mistress, and she gives when our attention is distracted.
Your presence here today is a gift, and I for one do not intend to
be distracted. Forgive me for pointing this out, but I believe we
have much in common.”

He stared at the man. “I'm a soldier. You're
a cleric. What could we possibly have in common?”

“
We're both younger men,
Excellency. Men of frustrated ambition, held back by the longevity
of older men with power. You are Jeffrey Martinez, who will one day
become the Honcho, ruler of the Lone Star Empire. I am Enrique
Cardinal Esperanza, and soon I shall be Pope, ruler of the Texan
Catholic Church. It is my hope that we will work together on
matters of mutual benefit.”

Lester:
“And the blind eye creates”

His practice at the cloaking spell proceeded
with unexpected difficulty. The face of Aria intruded often,
tempting him to waste time pondering her perfection. Inconvenient.
He tried to concentrate on the apple again (which was now
diminished by several bites, for he was growing hungry) and once
more the image of it faded and almost disappeared. But not
completely. And as Xander kept reminding him, “when you need to
disappear, only complete success suffices.”

Reminded of the old man, he wondered where
Xander went when he left his quarters. Was he off seeking more
students? No. He was certain, without knowing how, that the wizard
would not run off without warning him.

Restless, he rose from the chair and paced
as he considered his situation. There were times when he still
suffered from homesickness, but he countered such thoughts by
reminding himself that there was opportunity for growth here. All
right, so he had been yanked from his sleepy village and replanted
in this churning beehive of a building. But within the isolation
and the jarring confusion of the Governor's court the could also
see a future for himself. A future that was a damn sight better
than waiting on tables for Gerrold!