"Each leader brought large numbers of their followers. And why not? They promised to keep the best, eliminate the worst and, most importantly, stop the bloodshed."
Orah exhaled the next question. "So what happened?"
"Not everyone accepted it. The original leaders passed on and the next generation began to focus on ways to consolidate power. Over time, a new set of precepts emerged. Keep the population simple and small. Control all teaching. Ban new ideas. Limit travel. Discourage diversity. And erase the wonders of the prior age, except those needed to sustain the Temple. In the end, they got what they wanted: a peaceful world with the vicars in charge."
As he spoke, Orah fiddled with the folds of her tunic, until the edges had crumpled into a tight bunch. When he finished, she looked up.
"How can so much harm have been done in the name of good??"
"I asked the helper that."
"And what did he say?"
"His answer was 'unknown.'"
As the three stared at each other, the keep came back to life. The soft lighting was restored and the hum resumed-the only sound in the room.
***
Thomas sat and fumed, long after the others had gone. He'd made a fool of himself and was powerless to stop it. He had no tolerance for the dark anymore. The vicars had marked him with this scar and he'd never forgive them.
But the keepmasters were no better. Nathaniel had confirmed it. To the darkness with the keepmasters and to the darkness with the Temple of Light.
Despite what he'd said, he knew they'd never stay in the keep. His friends were different from him. To him, dreams were a game, at least before the teaching had turned them to nightmares. But to them, dreams were like air-needed to stay alive. And they couldn't pursue their dreams in the keep.
If he had all the power of the keep, if he could push buttons in the shape of stars until they lit up and destroyed the Temple in a hail of the old master's magic, he'd do so. But Nathaniel was foolish to think they could destroy the vicars by themselves. Once they left the keep, they'd be caught. And the scratches they might inflict on the Temple would only make their punishment worse.
Each day he watched his friends edge closer to their doom. He was terrified of returning to the darkness and would do what he could to save them from that fate. But he prayed that in so doing, he wouldn't lose their friendship.
Discovery
Weeks passed, but Orah couldn't bring herself to tell the others about star travel. It was too hard to believe without proof. So she made astronomy her new home and spent most of her waking hours studying the stars.
Like the Temple, the keepmasters acknowledged the world revolved around the sun, but there the similarity ended. They claimed the points of light in the night sky were just a sampling of the heavens. A few of the brightest were called planets, other worlds that circled the sun. But most of the stars were suns themselves. And with instruments invented by the so-called age of darkness, they'd been able to find millions of these. The sun, giver of life, was one among a many, and not even the foremost of those.
Orah listened to lectures about the motion of heavenly bodies. She learned the appearance of the night sky could be precisely charted, the movement of the stars following not Temple dogma, but the laws of mathematics. But the concepts were too theoretical-nothing that would convince her friends. She needed more.
One night, back in astronomy after another unproductive dinner, her frustration boiled over.
"There must be a way to see these stars, to prove what they claim."
The screen lit up, and the astronomy helper appeared. "I'm sorry. I don't understand. Do you have a question?"
"No. I was only talking to myself."
The helper waited, uncertain how to respond. Orah folded her hands and studied her fingers. After a while, she stood and approached the screen.
"You said there were instruments to explore the night sky. May I see them?"
The man looked pleased with the question.
"Ah. You'd like to use the observatory. Please step into the adjoining elevator and it will bring you there. Once you've arrived, I'll meet you on the observatory screen."
As Orah struggled to make sense of his words, a doorway opened next to the screen, exposing a hidden chamber. Unlike most rooms in the keep, this one was tiny, holding at most four people jammed together. She gave a shudder, then entered.
In place of the soft glow was a dimmer light, too dark for reading. It revealed an empty room with stark metal walls broken only by a waist-high handrail. Then, as suddenly as the door had opened, it slid shut again. She was alone with no way out.
The room lurched and stopped. The lights flickered and dimmed. She'd become accustomed to problems in the keep, doors sticking, water spigots going dry, frailties of old age. Usually, the keep was able to heal itself, but a day would come when there'd be no recovery. As memories of her darkness cell threatened to overwhelm her, she prayed the keep would not choose this moment to fail.
Before she could panic, a familiar voice sounded. "Please stand by. Repairs are being made."
Shortly, the lights brightened and the room began to accelerate, not as fast as the flying wagon, but more disconcerting, it was moving upward. She clutched the handrail and felt her heart fall into her stomach.
When the room stopped, the wall on the opposite end slid open, and she gratefully stepped out into a domed room. At its center was a cylinder a dozen feet long, slanted upward to the heavens with a seat attached to the bottom.
Another of the ever-present screens sprang to life. True to his promise, the astronomy helper was there.
"Welcome to the observatory. Here you'll be able to view the sky, either with the naked eye or through the telescope. Which would you like to do first?"
Orah had learned about telescopes and assumed the cylinder in the center was one of these. But she thought it best to view the sky without it first.
"My own eyes... if you please." A tremor had crept into her voice.
Gears ground and the roof of the dome retracted. Above her was the night sky as she might have experienced it in Little Pond. She let out a gasp. She'd forgotten how beautiful it could be.
The helper began instructing. "You'll find markers on the wall that show direction. I can give you a tour of tonight's sky if you'd like."
"Yes, I would."
"At two hundred and thirty degrees to the southwest is the brightest of all lights, save the sun and the moon. A planet called Venus."
She circled the wall until she found the number, glanced up and beheld the evening star, its light trembling and seeming to grow brighter as she stared.
"Venus is a world like our own, but revolves around the sun in a closer orbit. You can prove this by observing its phases. As the planet circles behind the sun, part of it becomes obscured. You can see through the telescope."
The tube in the center whirred as it swung around. Orah waited to be sure it stopped before taking a seat. When she looked through the eyepiece, her brows rose. There was an amber crescent, a third of a ball, the remainder in shadow-the evening star as she'd never seen it before.
Another world like our own
.
The helper gave her time before continuing. "If you track it for several days, you'll see the phases change. Would you like to see more?"
"Yes, please." The tremor was gone, but her voice was subdued.
"At eighty three degrees east is Jupiter, a world farther away than Venus but much larger than our own. You can tell it's a planet because of the moons spinning around it. You can easily see the four largest."
A third planet. Four moons
. The open expanse made her giddy.
She located the direction, cast in bronze on the chamber's wall. While less bright than Venus, Jupiter was easy to spot.
"But I don't see any moons."
"Look through the telescope. I'll position it for you."
Orah clutched the sides of the chair as the cylinder adjusted. When it stopped, she peered into the eyepiece. Four bursts of white were clearly visible close by Jupiter. She took a deep breath-so much to learn-then scanned the sky for another target. So many stars and between them all, far more dramatic, the endless blackness. After weeks confined in the keep, she found the sight inspiring, and gave expression to her feelings.
"What a view. And such a clear night except for that one cloud."
"I'm sorry. Remember that if you point, I cannot see. You must tell me location by direction and degrees."
Instinctively, she gave him the location of the cloud. His response surprised her.
"That's not a cloud but a galaxy, a cluster of stars so far away they appear as a haze in the sky. I suggest you look through the telescope."
Once more, the cylinder whirred and stopped. Orah tried to look, but her vision had blurred. She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve, then looked again.
Oh, Nathaniel, you should see this.
She checked once more to be sure it wasn't a dream. Through the lens, her mind filled with a million suns.
***
Nathaniel was eager to tell Orah what he'd found-a childhood fantasy come true. But as he raced into the dining room, late and out of breath, she barely glanced up.
"I've found maps," he announced.
"What's so amazing about that? We have a map that shows all we need."
"Our map shows the world of today. These are on the screen and show the keepmasters' world."
She shoved the remains of her dinner aside. "Is this city on it?"
"Yes, and much more. Come see."
She got up to follow, but Thomas didn't budge.
"You too, Thomas," Nathaniel said.
"I haven't finished eating yet."
"The food will wait. Come with us."
Nathaniel grabbed him and tugged until Thomas shook him off.
"Enough. I'm coming. This had better be good."
Nathaniel led them through a maze of corridors, never slowing to read screens. In a couple of minutes, they arrived at a viewing area like all the others. He urged them to sit, while he stood next to the screen.
As soon as they were settled, he issued his first command. "Show me Riverbend."
The screen flickered and a map appeared, more detailed than the vicar's and in color. The North river was a ribbon of blue, the forests a sea of green. Shaded contours gave depth to the terrain.
Orah pointed at the screen. "There's the road we took out of Riverbend."
"And we can follow it on the screen." He barked out the word "East."
The image scrolled. When it stopped, the town was gone, but in the center the river curled northward.
Orah understood at once and took over. "North."
The picture changed. The river bend was now at the bottom left corner. Beside it, marked in black, was a broad roadway.
"Can it keep going?"
Nathaniel could barely contain his delight. "Try it."
She said north and the screen scrolled. Then again and again. Contours showed the trail rising. Soon, they could see the falls. And then another roadway, jumping out of the mountain on one side, arching across the valley and entering the slope on the other.
Without hesitation, Orah changed direction. "East."
They were soaring over the mountains. She repeated the word again and again as the image passed over rugged terrain.
"Look how far the wagon flew. Have you seen the city, Nathaniel? How much farther is it?"
"Just a few more."
And then it appeared, the great city with buildings that touched the sky.
Orah blew out a stream of air. "I wish we had this on our trip here."
Nathaniel nudged Thomas. "See what you can find in the keep. It's simple. Give it a try."
He waited as Thomas came to his feet and shuffled to the screen.
"Show me Little Pond," he said.
The screen failed to change. Thomas frowned and fell back.
Nathaniel was quick to encourage him. "It doesn't understand Little Pond, Thomas. I tried. Maybe the village was too small or the name has changed over the centuries. But we can still get there." He faced the screen and spoke. "Show me Great Pond."
The larger town appeared alongside the pond of the same name.
"Go ahead, Thomas. You know how to get home from here."
Thomas looked at him skeptically. When he spoke, his words were tentative as if afraid the screen would deny him again.
"West. North. West. There it is." He brightened, then became wistful. "If only the screen came with a wagon that could bring us home."
"I'm sorry, Thomas. No wagon. But I have one more surprise."
Nathaniel waited like a magician, letting the suspense build before a trick. Only when Orah slid to the edge of her seat did he speak the next command.
"West." Little Pond vanished from the screen. "West, west."
The granite mountains appeared, the edge of the world.
He gave them time to absorb the implication and then said "West" again.
The mountains filled the right of the screen, but on the left, a ribbon of blue.
Orah stood and touched the blue with her fingertips. "Oh, Nathaniel. The great ocean discovered by your knight."
Nathaniel waved his hand and bowed. The show was over.
But Orah wasn't done. "Did you try to go farther? Did you see if there's a world on the other side?"
A world on the other side
. Nathaniel was surprised she was so caught up in the illusion. He shrugged.
"I tried. Nothing but ocean. I'll show you." He took a breath and spoke. "West." The screen became bathed in blue. "West, west, west." Nothing changed. "See. The end of the map."
"Or maybe the ocean's so large," Orah said, "that we're still over water. Are you sure you went far enough?"
"I tried a hundred times. It never changes."
"Ask if there's a way to make it move faster."
Nathaniel asked, and a helper told him to state the number of movements with the command. He tried, ordering the map to move five times, then ten. No change. In desperation, he began hurling absurd commands at the screen.