CHAPTER VII


CHOOSING ONE'S DESTINY




	Vitor Olyn would have opted to remain in remand if he was presented with a 
choice but since the videts were only too happy to shove their temporary lodger back on 
the streets, he had however nowhere else to go except where his uncle and his cousin 
lived.  When he was back within the walls of Casteltheyne, the first one he sought was 
not the cousin who had generously showered him with legal advocates but the uncle, the 
half-blinded nondescript.  Familiar with the latter's habits, he found him where he 
expected to find him, in Cestor Vrillenar's newly acquired suite where the three of them 
had assembled.  

	Eirini welcomed him back with a smile that was as dazzling as the HeliĈ in 
Sunder.  He was both pleased and moved to see her, but immediately with a painful twist 
deep in his heart he understood that her radiance had been brought about by someone else 
and he had nothing more to do with her.  

	After a warm welcome Uncle Marth led him to a table set near the glowing 
montage of a Simu-fire fountain.  A while ago a bottle of the best crystalcrest wine had 
been brought in from the cellar by his governing cousin's special order.  

	Vitor felt overwhelmed by the care and the generosity he was shown and was of 
the opinion that being for a short while a suspected perpetrator of a crime was a grand 
occasion.  His Uncle Marth gave him a hearty slap on the back and filled his glass to the 
brim and he started to attack the plates heaped up with slices of meat, fresh green salad 
and still steaming rolls of bread.  The videts had let him loose in early morning without 
bothering to invite him to breakfast and he felt really hungry. 

	While he was stilling his hunger pangs Uncle Marth kept him company with 
trivial talk but his eye never wandered far away from Eirini who whispered with her 
father nearby and Eirini, he perceived all too clearly, appeared as if she had been blessed 
with HeliĈ Seed.  Vitor speculated silently on the mould and cut of the personality who 
had succeeded in breaking Eugene Trevarthen's emotional stranglehold and claimed the 
Lar's place.  

	All too soon daylight that had for a while brightened the windows, then wavered, 
now sank to a fallow glimmer, fading fast, and the ceiling and wall lamps twinkled on.  
As if taking that for some sort of signal, Eirini left her seat and her father pressed her 
hands with a beaming face.  After she had disappeared through the door, Vitor having 
finished his home-from-remand meal followed her soon after.  

	He kept stalking her, close enough so as not to lose her through the webwork of 
Casteltheyne's halls, escalators and passageways, yet at a careful distance so that she 
would not know she was being trailed.  In the front hall she came upon a young Patrean 
who had just entered from the garden and the two melted in each other's arms in the 
dying light of day slanting through the front doors in momentary state of fission.

	From the balustrade partially obscured by the shield of an ornamental knight, 
Vitor watched them.  The Patrean was bending low in such a stance as if he was worrying 
at Eirini's ear and Eirini's face was one full of thrill by his worrying.  Vitor could not 
deny the truthfulness of what he saw, even if he wanted to.  Though there was nothing in 
it for him, an outsider who had only by chance crossed their path, he felt inexplicably that 
by observing them he was being changed too.  He felt a burst of pride for Eirini for being 
so justly vindicated by someone who had apparently given her more than he could ever 
possibly have given her.  With tears of emotion burning in his eyes he felt no regret for 
himself, only that he was prepared to die for her, for them both. 

	He swiftly descended the staircase when he saw they were going in the direction 
of the library.  

* * *

	In the library Trajan seated himself before one of the microcoms and Eirini leaned 
lightly on his left shoulder.  

	"The Affra," Trajan told her, "can be piloted but it has lost pulser direction.  The 
main thing is now to establish communication with my Sergeant's aero so that its pulsers 
can manipulate my Affra back to Larkae."  

	His eyes gazed up at her.  "I don't like the way things are turning out, Eirini.  It 
appears they are forcing me to stay and they might use you against me.  I would rather see 
you safe in Larkae with Terglyn."  

	"Trajan," Eirini began but swallowed her words as the library doors hissed open.  
Trajan heard relief and a slight tinge of annoyance in her voice as she said:  "Vitor, come 
over here."  

	Vitor approached them with a half-smile as if he had come upon them for the first 
time and was agreeably surprised.  Eirini introduced them to one another and Trajan 
steepened fingers with Vitor, which spontaneous greeting came as a surprise to the latter. 
He caught the silver glint of an optic strip through the young Lar's open collar.  A 
Rescuer?  No, a Commander, he was sure of it.  He was immediately struck with awe and 
admiration.  

	Trajan observed Vitor, how he awkwardly stood with one hand in a pocket, the 
other hand trying to smooth out his wiry hair and his mobile mouth that constantly 
struggled between a grin and a scowl.  He had found an ally in a castle full of antagonists, 
no doubt. "I am glad that the Surety let you go home this soon, Vitor,"  

      Vitor gave a shrug.  "They have no more questions for me now that I have a 
proven alibi."  He twitched out a grin.  

	"Yes, they've turned you loose to be questioned by me."  A slight stiffening went 
through Vitor's body.  Trajan slanted a look to the screen shimmying with abstract 
symbols.  "Eirini, could you try and establish a connection with Terglyn's microcom 
while Vitor and I have a little talk."

	"What more can I tell you other than what I've already told the worthy Superpre?" 
Vitor thrust the question with an expression of a wild boar with all its hackles up.  

	"I am not going to question you what happened in this castle.  I want to know how 
you came to know Cidora Aimee.  I presume that it was she who made the first 
introduction."

	"Correct." Vitor crossed his legs.  He had seated himself in an armchair while 
Trajan stayed close to Eirini's side, now and then observing her progress.  "She said that 
she was a reporter for a magazine that specializes in the histories, and scandals, of the 
noble houses.  She was most intrigued by the untimely death of Wyllan Moritz and she 
would pay handsomely for all facts and dirty secrets that she could lay her hands on,"

	"How handsome was the payment?"

      Vitor scratched his head.  "I am kind of addicted to holo-gaming.  In fact, that's 
where I first met her, in the gaming arena at the University.  Those new-fangled games 
are not cheap, especially lava-skiing and she gave me a stack of Insta-fund cards."  

	"Lava skiing!  You are aware, I hope, that there have been messy accidents with 
this holo game."

	Vitor's face spread in a wide grin and he knocked with his knuckles against his 
head.  "I am a bit on the crazy side, as Eirini can tell you."

	Trajan briefly returned the grin but settled back in a solemn face.  "And that is 
what she hired you for?  To gather information about the accident?'

	"Information and also research material, if I could find them.  She got pretty upset 
that I couldn't find anything.  She wanted me to go snooping in the shed where it all 
happened but that is impossible to do.  She was convinced that a conspiracy was going 
on."

	"And you believed her?'

	"Well, anything is possible since the Myaron debacle."

	Is this how the public viewed the disaster in Myaron?  A debacle; heads will roll 
in the Tres-Tiorem.  "Vitor, do you think that's why she was killed, by conspirators?"

	Vitor looked away as if Trajan's keen gaze was something he could not challenge. 
"Nothing of the sort.  She was a gossip reporter and on a scavenger hunt for skeletons in 
the closet.  On top of it, she was a spitfire sort of person and had more than likely crossed 
swords too many."

	"Trajan," Eirini called, "I have a connection."  Trajan took her place and the 
screen before him gyrated with animation where Terglyn's face appeared in a haze of 
colours.  

	"Sergeant, we seem to be experiencing a lot of energy disturbances."  

	"Captain," Terglyn reported in a creaking voice, "the wind is getting stronger by 
the second and the energy of my SpanRacer is not sufficient to break through the gales to 
steer the Affra back.  I may need a booster but the energy network in Larkae is still down 
and consequently, the flytrajectories are only working at half capacity." 

	"How long before the energy is fully restored?"  

	"I can't say for sure.  It may be partially restored over a few hours, or it may not.  
The local office of the Stewardship has been mobilized and I gather they are working very 
hard at it because if they can't find a solution soon we will all have a very cold night with 
no heating." 

	Trajan regarded his plight from all angles and found he had very little to choose 
from.  At least there was still light and warmth in abundance in Casteltheyne.  "Terglyn," 
he decided, "I don't think there is anything we can do at the moment.  Let's wait until 
morning.  If it weren't so important that you stay in Larkae I would have called you in to 
the warmth of the castle.  Bundle yourself up in a couple of self-heating blankets, 
Sergeant, and hopefully in the morning I will not talk to a commander pickled in ice."

	Terglyn displayed a wide grin that came out a bit lopsided on the restless screen.  
"Nothing to worry about, Captain.  There are ways to keep warm and merry in the cold.  It 
seems the Travellers' House has opened its wine cellars to keep spirits high and the 
guests on their toes."

	"Please don't overdo it, Sergeant.  A commander pickled in royal flush is even 
worse.  Over and out for now." 

	The amusement vanished from Trajan's face as he swivelled round in his chair 
and gazed at his companions.  "And there is little for us to do either.  We are locked 
inside this castle by bad weather and an energy blackout."  

	"Captain," Vitor said in a voice as if he was a junior officer addressing his 
superior, "are there any more questions for me?"  Trajan absentmindedly shook his head 
and Vitor offered eagerly:  "Let's go to my suite and share a bottle of the finest 
crystalcrest wine." 

	Trajan was on the point of rising to his feet when he tumbled back on his chair 
and his eyes widened in astonishment.  He gasped:  "What?  What are you saying?  No! 
Not so fast, I can hardly understand."  

	Eirini ran towards him in consternation and Trajan pressed his fingers against his 
temples, grimaced and a deep frown creased his forehead as if the concentration was too 
hurtful to bear.  She and Vitor stood beside him without speaking as he appeared to be 
struggling through a great mental exertion which they could not comprehend.  When 
finally his face cleared up, his wide grey eyes gazed at them with amazement.

	"Dama Edina," he breathed, "how did she ever learn to speak with her thoughts!  
But she has done it through intense effort and pain on her part and I've felt all of it.  I 
must go and see her!"

	Eirini hooked her fingers around his arm.  "Let me go with you." 

	He brushed her cheek with his lips.  "Dama Edina wants to speak to me alone, 
dearest.  Stay with Vitor, please."

	Turning to Vitor he said hesitantly:  "I feel I can trust you, Vitor.  Do me a favour 
and stay with Eirini.  Stay together in my suite.  Don't scold me, Eirini.  I also think you 
can take good care of yourself but it will tremendously reassure me to think you are safe 
with each other." 

	"Trajan," Vitor promised solemnly, "I will not leave Eirini's side even if I have to 
sleep before her door.  But do you know the way to Dama Edina's chambers from here?"  

	"The Dama is presently in Lar Moritz's study." 

	And Trajan dashed away through the fissioning doors of the library into the 
hallway.  

* * *

	Dama Edina was sitting in her armchair before a faintly glowing still life of a 
Simu-fire tree-lined garden path, just as he had seen it in the picture which appeared in 
his mind.  After the excruciating efforts at trans-noetic communication, peace had settled 
on her face as if the turbulence and conflict seething through her house had not touched 
her and passed her by.  

	She did not move as Trajan softly settled in the armchair by her side, but he knew 
she had sensed his arrival.   Looking into the remains of what must have once been 
beautiful eyes he also knew he was meeting someone in this unhappy place who had won 
something from the tragedy nearly seven cycles ago, for which she had paid with the loss 
of her vision. 

	Without turning her face away from the fire she spoke to him in her rich and 
pleasant voice unspoilt by time:  "Trajan Schurell, how smoothly and naturally you 
convey your thoughts and I will never be able to master your elegant and unobtrusive 
ways of thought transmittance since I have not been born with such skills."

	"Yet, you know how to do it while others don't.  How did you acquire it?" 

	"I have acquired it through a tragedy, a tragedy in the past that still cast a long 
shadow into the present.  Although I suspect that you have already some hint of what 
happened, I will tell you the whole story.  Before I begin however I must know 
something.  Although I can communicate with your mind at great cost of my own 
strength, I cannot reach into it; it is too strong and it is shielding something, many 
things." 

	Dama Edina's slender, girlish fingers reached out and grasped his hand.  Her hold 
was surprisingly firm and he could feel the warmth of her ageless and vibrant skin like a 
touch of HeliĈ shine.  

	"My young Lar, I also feel great anxiety coming from you.  I know the harsh 
words that Dama Anjelie has spoken to you and perhaps we, she and I, both want you 
here for the same reason but our motivations are worlds apart.  She is resorting to force 
while I will only try if I can make it easier for you to decide, for I understand you have 
been burdened with a mystery and a task, but in time you too will learn as I have learned 
to adapt to my affliction.  Answer me truthfully: has the Light come back to 
Casteltheyne?"

	"Yes."

	"I am not feeling its terrible force anymore, yet there is something.  Do you have it 
with you?"

	"I am the Light, Dama Edina."

	There was a pause as Dama Edina's pale face remained still as one carved out of 
milky marble.  A shine broke through as she smiled, a shine of her wisdom.  "Yes, I 
understand now.  It cannot be otherwise.  Let me tell you what happened on the day of the 
accident.  

	"I never approved of Wyllan and Eugene carrying out their experiment.  They 
were dangerously playing with forces which did not belong here, in our world, and which 
they did not understand.  I had a terrible feeling of premonition that day when they were 
approaching the final stages of their work.  There was such a pressing urgency that I 
should tell them to stop right away before tragedy struck.  I hurried to the barn but when I 
entered I found that I was too late: their experiment was complete.  My protestations fell 
on deaf ears:  there was Eugene standing in the middle of the laboratory holding a globe 
of piercing light which was emanating from a box he was holding in his hands, directing 
the path of its rays so that it superimposed on the beams of their machine which were 
forming some sort of spinning ladder of light and somehow in the midst of all that 
blinding brilliance I glimpsed a vision of another world.  The brilliance was a gateway.  
Both were ecstatic and insensible to the very danger before them.  The Light which 
Eugene was holding was buzzing with anger; it did not want to go through the gateway.  
Then it happened, the demon that was unleashed.  When the two brilliances collided with 
each other it seemed as if the whole barn was ripped apart by a detonation of light.  
Wyllan was struck by the blast which killed him outright but most horrible of all was 
when the Light turned upon its handler and punished him, punished him most cruelly for 
having use it as a tool of experiment.  It went right through him, cutting him in two 
personalities.  There was such agony that I felt I was being sliced in two as well.  I 
pleaded with whoever or whatever was in the Light, its quivering core of fury, to let its 
victim go or take me in his stead.  The Light put me to the choice:  to die but yet able to 
breathe, to be crippled but still able to crawl or be blind but able to see beyond the visions 
of ordinary creatures.  I said that I did not care what wretchedness lay in store for me, 
only that it stopped inflicting such pain to its victim.  And then, as suddenly as it began, 
the suffering ended.  The Light had coiled back into the holding box from which it would 
not be forced to move until it has found the right one.  For me the world had lost all light 
and colour, but I could sense, hear and smell the frightful extraction it had wrested out of 
a young boy."

	Trajan leaned forward in his chair and looking at Dama Edina's face he knew she 
was picturing him and his state of suspense distinctly in her mind.  "You communicated 
with Starglory.  What did you see, what did you learn at that moment?"

	"It gave me visions, hallucinations of worlds beyond understanding, beyond our 
bonds of description but also of ethereal beings, graceful and wise, but not infallible and 
tragic." 

	"Did it reveal any more of what those beings really were?"

	Dama Edina passed a hand over her eyes as if the recollection of the sights she 
had caught in her mind were still sights too frighteningly foreign to comprehend. "No, 
Trajan.  Seeing those images was torment.  Knowing, understanding what they were 
would shatter my mind.  Only you can tread that road of discovery.  But, just to satisfy my 
weakness, my curiosity, what did you learn, if I may ask, when the Light came into you, 
what did you see?"

	"I saw only a fury that could destroy a whole principality if I didn't allow it to 
come into me, but once inside me it was like a force reborn.  It has still mysteries deeply 
hidden that I can only unravel, in time, with my eyes and my mind and no one else's." 

      "Yes, you have a great mission to perform and since you are here with the Light, 
that you call Starglory, and this castle is still standing and we are all still alive and well, 
you have already come far.  Let me tell you that even though the Light was destructive it 
also had a sublime side of redemption. 

	"It guided me to take care of Eugene's other half as if it was my own child.  
Plucked out into essence by a force of pure light he seems to enjoy the curative qualities 
of water.  In the early days of his creation I let him be submerged in a tank I had 
especially constructed for his cure and by and by his burns receded and new skin grew as 
he also grew more and more like the other, who sustained no physical scars from the 
tragedy only temporal amnesia.  Ever since that time Nagus has become the bane of my 
house.  He too has acquired some powers from the accident, powers to generate fear or 
maybe my household are all afraid of him because he is different, an abomination that 
even his own mother thinks he is.  Thus, he has lived up to their loathing of him and 
became what he is now." 

	"Dama Edina, maybe in the beginning he had the ability to instil fear but there is 
none now.  Now, he is only--."  Wearily Trajan leaned back in the armchair.  "I don't 
know what to do for Nagus or Eugene."

	Dama Edina laid a hand on his knee, a gesture of rendering comfort, a token of 
affection, of testing as if she was touching for what was inside him, that had wreaked so 
much havoc but was quiet now, while he was trying to put the jumble in his mind into 
some sort of sensible order.  The silence was broken when she suddenly proclaimed in a 
clear voice:  "I have a vision.  Once, the Light was one with Someone whom it loved 
greatly and from whom it was ripped asunder by cruel and murderous hands, in the way it 
tore apart Eugene Trevarthen.  Find this Someone and you will find your true origin, but 
beware of treachery on the long and perilous road, the road that Another will also take, 
one who calls himself the Governor General of the Double Sun." 

	"The Governor General of the Double Sun?" Trajan said perplexed but he saw 
that Dama Edina's enlightened moment had passed and the effort had tired her.  She 
groped for her cane by her side and with the support of his arm rose.  She looked at him 
with gentle contentment.  

	"For Casteltheyne the end is almost there and at last I can go, with my heart at rest 
now that I know this House will find peace once again."  

      "To achieve what you wish for, I need to speak with Eugene.  Is he well?"  

      "For as long as Huigo is Lar Protector, Eugene will not be harmed in this House.  
Huigo is with him now in the library.  Go with the Light, young Lar Schurell, and in 
honour always."  

	Trajan lent her his arm until they reached the hallway where Dama Edina parted 
from him with a sad smile and a caress over his cheek.  

* * *

	Trajan did not hurry as he ambled through the hallways, his thoughts brimming 
with the many implications of Dama Edina's revelations.  Torn in two, like disassociated, 
acting apart, like the waking dreamer wandering out from the mind.  He sauntered back 
into a library that was half-lit, half-heated and occupied by a threesome.  

	Huigo and Eugene stood by the row of microcoms, their faces stoic and staid as 
two sentinels.  In a remote angle wedged between rows of literature the bulk of Superpre 
Deyron was lurking between light and darkness.  And Huigo addressed him with much 
more kindness than the Lar of Castelmoer had previously shown.  

	"I gather you have spoken to my grandmother, Trajan, and she has told you the 
whole story."  

	Trajan nodded, looking only at Eugene who met his scrutiny with a face where no 
emotion could be gauged. "Now that you know how I was split into two different entities, 
what are you doing about it?" Eugene asked.

	"I first want to know, Eugene, what was the purpose of the experiment? What was 
Wyllan Moritz trying to achieve?" 

	Eugene squinted his eyes as if he was trying to read history too distant in the past. 
"It had something to do with an old science project, something the Aberonians were 
working on before the destruction by the White Radiation Ingress."

	"Was it the project of the Starstream Conduit?"

	They held each other with eyes that only saw each other.  For this moment the 
presence of Huigo Moritz and Superpre Deyron did not count, not even as spectators.  
Trajan was the one who broke the deadlock.  "Let me take my supposition a step further.  
Wyllan Moritz was not successful until he saw the diagrams of the IsoMén Equation in 
the old parchments that Doctor Reball had.  Was it you who had the parchments first and 
how did you come by them?"

	"I never had the parchments!"  Eugene brushed a hand through his hair; his 
forehead was beaded with tiny pearls of nervous sweat.  "I don't even know if Professor 
Moritz even met with Doctor Reball!"

	"You don't remember, do you?"

	A sudden tension seemed to harden Eugene's whole frame.  The Superpre 
straightened from his slouching position; Huigo Moritz fidgeted uneasily.  Trajan reached 
out with his hand.  "Let me touch you, Eugene.  I won't hurt you but let me see if I can 
help you."  

	Eugene recoiled as one would recoil from a dagger thrust.  "No, Trajan!  I know 
what now lives inside you.  It has hurt me twice already and I remember what it did the 
last time all too painfully."

	"And what do you remember from the first time?"

	Eugene took a deep breath.  "I was untouched the first time, not a single bruise.  
Only, there was that other one lying on the ground, all shrivelled up and burned, but still 
breathing.  Dama Edina, out of her generous heart, kept it alive because she would not do 
otherwise.  And it did not die.  So long as I am living, it will live too.  The stronger it 
becomes the more it wants to take my place in the world.  Its influence is growing more 
powerful too. It has already extended authority over Wakren and other domestics, because 
their fear of him is much greater than their loyalty to Lar Moritz, and it will slowly usurp 
all of Casteltheyne unless you do something about this unbearable situation, Trajan!"

	"It is you, Eugene.  He is you and if I dispose of him, as your mother wants me to 
do, I dispose part of you.  Starglory tore you apart but remember it also helped me heal 
you in Myaron.  I don't know how to make you One again now, but maybe I will know 
one day."  

	Eugene jerked away from his post by the monitor counter and began pacing round 
the library.  He ground to a stop in the unlit portion of the library, tight and brooding, 
with his distraught face and light-brown outfit looking like a pale shadow among deeper 
shadows.  "You got it wrong, Trajan, I don't want to become One again, just free.  I don't 
want to be joined with that horrid creature, but he wants me, he wants me back.  He wants 
us one again, one as him."

	Eugene went on tonelessly, stepping back into the circle of light: "And that is not 
the only thing he desires.  He needs to go into the other Sphere, so he claims."

	Trajan stared at him and Eugene drew near with short, furious steps.  "It is true, he 
wants to open the gateway and he wants to repeat the experiment of Professor Moritz but 
he also knows he cannot accomplish that without my technical knowledge and your 
power."  

	Trajan's gaze wandered to the library doors; he tensed ever so slightly.  The 
Superpre emerged from obscurity, his experienced eye not missing the change.  

	"Spoken just in time," Trajan said, "he is coming," 

	The doors of the library parted with a sigh and a dash of cold air.  The first one 
striding in was Ronen Wakren as if clearing the way for the one coming close on his 
heels.  The deep silence of a waiting storm swathed the room as Nagus entered, looking 
immaculate in dinner suit, his eyes two points of crimson and his face pallid as chalk. 

	As he waited for the next event to unfold, Trajan wondered where Nagus had 
learned his flair of dressing fashionably.  Certainly not from Wakren in his unpolished 
boots and slovenly pelt coat or had Nagus acquired that naturally from his first self, 
Eugene, who stood without moving, starched with loathing for this twisted facsimile of 
himself, swaggering over the library floor like the master of the house.  

	Nagus's sharp teeth glinted in the dim lights as he leered at his other.  "I know you 
find me revolting, Eugene, which is a pity.  I know who I am while you don't.  But it 
seems we now want the same thing."

	He gloated, laughing softly:  "Poor mother you, poor mother me, poor Anjelie 
who sought to trade the object of her affection with a youngslady.  How short-sighted 
mothers can be, unable to guess, unable to feel and to know that here bartering a Lar for a 
Lar has done the trick.  Eugene, you may go free in exchange for Trajan!"  

	Trajan grimaced.  "I feel so flattered."  

	Nagus smiled thinly, his eyes glowing blood red.  "Don't trifle with me, Trajan.  I 
know you have remarkable powers so I won't waste time fighting you needlessly that will 
only result in mutual injury.  Other means are available to me."  He signalled with his 
head to Wakren who started for the door, went into the hallway and reentered the library 
shoving before him Vitor who looked dazed, dishevelled but otherwise unhurt.  

	Trajan's face turned pale and his hand wandered to his hip.  As he stood there 
with one arm slightly bent at his side, the others began to wonder if commanders carry 
weapons even while off duty.  He whirled round without anyone expecting him to make 
such a sudden twist and with a shrill whistle a rapier flashed silver from his clenched 
hand.  A loud gasp vibrated through the library as for one insane moment the others 
thought he would pierce Nagus's throat. But he held the point of the blade so it didn't 
break but just dented the skin a little, his grey, then purple eyes burning bright and fierce 
quenching the fire of the red ones facing him.  A veil seemed to pass across Nagus's face, 
a shade of sudden fear that diminished his insolence so he seemed to cringe and shrank 
and cower.  

	"Yes," Trajan said, "that is what you were, still are, a spoiled little brat.  Not 
grown up, ousted, rejected by his own mother.  I know how that must feel.  Now answer 
me truthfully, how did Wyllan Moritz build his Starstream device?  Did he and Doctor 
Reball know each other?"

	Nagus swallowed and worked his mouth between a snarl and a sneer.  He 
straightened his shoulders and said with a half-leer attempt at bravura, "No, they didn't 
know each other and no, to build the device had never entered Wyllan's mind until 
Doctor Reball came to consult him one day with diagrams and computer configurations 
on old scrolls."

	Trajan backed away.  His mind was feverishly working to establish connection 
between the fragments of times past.  Doctor Reball had been holding the parchments 
much earlier than he had at first thought.  It had taken Doctor Reball seven cycles to 
achieve what Wyllan Moritz had been able to achieve in a shorter time and on a much 
smaller scale as a laboratory experiment.  The rapier had shrunk without a sound into a 
poniard.

	A dim fire had returned to Nagus's eyes.  "I feel flattered that you know whom to 
ask these questions, Trajan.  Yes, Doctor Reball needed Professor Moritz's genius to 
translate and configure the codes.  He would've gotten nowhere otherwise, but he 
wouldn't listen when Professor Moritz advised him he needed a powerful equilibrator to 
balance the Equation.  Professor Moritz copied the scrolls and set out on his own 
experiment to prove his point.  He was one of the most gifted lecturers of the University 
and as his student I admired him.  I also regarded him somewhat as a father figure.  He 
knew what I had and he found it most significant that it was found on Aberon.  He was of 
the opinion that it was linked to the Starstream project.  I could not refuse him when he 
wanted to use it for the experiment."  

	Trajan could visualize the sequence of events in his mind.  A pupil who adored 
his teacher; a teacher with an ambition to claim success where others had failed; the allure 
of a secret project that would change worlds and a Light Force that would brook no 
manipulation of itself other than by the one it would choose.  

	"Were there others involved besides the two of you?"

	Nagus scowled.  "Professor Moritz was a close sort of person, highly intelligent 
but not inclined to share his findings.  To his students he was the star to their planets.  
Although he was popular with his associates as well, especially the ladies, he thought 
them all beneath himself.  He used me only as a means for his end."

	Huigo's voice suddenly broke through the hushed library with the force of a clap 
of thunder: "Wyllan made a serious miscalculation and he paid for it with his life.  No 
one is to blame.  Not you, Eugene.  Not you, Nagus.  Here you are both in torment, while 
Wyllan has met his end mercifully quick." 

	"You are right, Huigo," Nagus said, "Professor Moritz was the lucky one.  But 
here we are, two of us, and one of us must go.  I saw another world, another Sphere 
through the crack of the gate before it exploded shut.  That is my destination or otherwise 
Casteltheyne will forever remain accursed with me."

	Trajan nodded sombrely.  "Yes, a journey that you have to make."

	"No!" Eugene cried out, "No!  You don't know what you're saying, Trajan!"

	In the semi-darkness Nagus' eyes flared like meteors falling through the webs of 
night.  "And are you coming with me?"

	Trajan turned his back on him.  The one he sought with his eyes was the Lar of 
Casteltheyne.  "Huigo, I was a Commander first before I became Lar Protector through a 
bizarre chain of events and a Commander I am still.  But I will honour the sovereignty of 
your protectorate, although the procedure now is to call in the Stewardship for an 
investigation of an illegal experiment even though it was conducted in the past.  Matters 
have come to a point that even the Command has to be notified but for now I will stand 
by the protocol of not interfering in the affairs of Castelmoer."  

	Huigo only bowed his head and Trajan turned to Nagus.  "And you, I cannot 
prevent you from prowling the corridors and terrorizing the residents of this castle but 
keep away from Eirini or I will do worst than just tickle your skin.  Beware of what you 
wish for.  When you enter the Other Sphere it won't be an adventure but a battle for 
survival against unknown odds, wild beasts of your worst nightmares, strange world and 
stranger people.  No fine clothes, no gourmet meals, no grovelling servants but a bare sky 
and raw meat that you have to hunt for.  Do you still want to go?  Think seriously about 
it."

	Trajan took a deep breath, shut his eyes for a second and without a further word 
left the library.  

	He found Eirini where Vitor had left her before being bundled off by Nagus and 
company.  In his own suite.  She was lying on the bed, covered by blankets and he bent 
over her, touching her cheek with his lips.

	"My love," he whispered, "I don't want to leave you but I have no choice."

	"Trajan?"  Eirini's soft voice emerged from the covers.  She half rose on her 
elbow, her eyes heavily drowsy.  He settled down beside her on the bed and she curled up 
on his lap. 

	"I'm so glad you're all right," he said gently.

	"What time is it?" Eirini murmured.  

	"Go back to sleep," Trajan urged, "I am here with you and it is still dark."

	He cradled her head in the curve of his arm, dimmed the light of the lamp and 
leaned back against the pillows.  In the quietness, warmth and comfort of the room his 
eyes were slowly closing. 

* * *

	Trajan started, awaking from his sleep.  He had no idea how many hours had 
passed since he dozed off.  The long shadows of night however had not yet receded from 
the room.  And they had now the company of a third person, gazing at them from a 
darkened corner with a pair of flaming eyes. 'Nagus.'  It was the first thought that came 
across his mind and he was intensely annoyed.  Could the imbecile never leave him 
alone?  Then a chill closed around his heart as he recognized the eyes of his dream. 

	"Eugene, you startle me."  

	Eirini still lay cuddled on his lap, happily dreaming away and Trajan swept the 
blanket around her sleeping form, covering her up entirely.  He did not want her to wake 
up and hear what was being said.  

	A bitter smile twitched on Eugene's pale lips.  "Eirini and you.  What a cynical 
turn of events."

	"If you want to blame someone, don't blame Eirini.  She was unhappy and I took 
advantage of that situation." 

	Daggers were quivering in Eugene's voice.  "I must confess that she looks happier 
and lovelier than I have ever seen her.  And so relaxed.  I've never seen her so relaxed.  
How fortunate to have known such rapture and still enjoying it in your sleep.  Does she 
know you will be leaving her soon?"  Trajan looked at him and said nothing.  

	"She'll wait."  A sardonic smile spasmed through Eugene's face. "And if I know 
my Eirini well, she will stand by you, heart and soul, as she has stood by me, until 
someone better comes along." 

	Trajan' slipped his hand under the blanket and caressed Eirini's hair that flowed 
like satin through his fingers.  "She is free to do what is best for her," he said, surprised at 
himself that he was able to express those words with steady sincerity even though, 
momentarily, a heartsick pang went through him. "I only wish we have more time 
together.  Maybe it is all for the best, the sooner I depart on this journey, the better it will 
be for all of you."

	Eugene demanded with glaring eyes:  "Trajan, what are you hoping to achieve 
with going into the Sphere?" 

	"I am not at liberty to tell you."

	Eugene pressed his lips into a grim line.  "It has something to do with the Light 
you have absorbed, hasn't it?  Then, it must be me who should accompany you to 
Beyond."

	"Eugene, it is not for me to say who will accompany me.  There are larger issues 
at stake here.  This is a matter of interplanetary security that only the Tres-Tiorem and the 
Spacio Command can decide.  If they allow Nagus to go with me, you will be free of him 
at last.  Isn't that what you want?"  

	"You cannot imagine what I truly want, foolish boy.  When he said that he knows 
who he is but I do not, he spoke the truth.  --I don't know who I am.--  Everybody says I am 
Eugene Trevarthen but I may be someone else too.  I can recall no history beyond the 
occurrence of the explosion in the shed as if it was I who was conceived from the tragedy, 
and not the other way around.  All things passed I had to paste together piece by piece 
from his memory. For a while I thought I had found something meaningful in life when 
Byrull confided to me his grand scheme that turned out to be just a ploy to get his hands 
on the Force that no one could control.  Since then everything has lost meaning for me 
Here, but maybe it will be different There. Choose me as your travelling companion, not 
that monster.  He should remain and die in Iucari-Tres."

	Trajan shook his head, grieving for his kinsman, for the two halves of his great-
grandfather's son. "Going into the Other Sphere won't cure you, Eugene.  You are going 
there into great dangers while here the specialists may find a way to give your memory 
back."

	Eugene bared his teeth in a snarl.  If Trajan had ever doubted that Eugene and 
Nagus had previously been one and the same, he was now convinced witnessing how in 
the dusky light Nagus' rancorous features had settled on Eugene's and for a fraction of a 
second Eugene became Nagus. 

	"You are beginning to talk like my mother," Eugene hissed, his voice hoarse 
under the restraint. "Nothing is wrong with my head, only that my identity does not fit me 
any more.  I don't want to be Lar Trevarthen.  A life without morals in a wild, savage 
world would suit me better.  Can't you see the argument from my point of view?" 

	A point of view that is entirely one-sided.  No one is going to leave Casteltheyne 
any time soon.  Remember, a person was killed here.  We have to give the Castelmoer 
Surety the satisfaction of continuing with their investigation and solving the crime.  
Before that, we cannot even think of packing our gear and sailing into the unknown."

	Eugene's voice cracked out like the snap of whip.  "You are a fool, Trajan!  You 
have the power to move worlds.  Yet, here you are mired in ethics and protocol!" 

	Eugene stood motionless, his body coiling as if for an attack.  Trajan pulled his 
hands free from under the blanket, bracing himself.  As he waited in suspense, profound 
resignation smoothed out the mask of madness from Eugene's face.  His voice was low 
and sinister. "I can't make you understand.  Then, so be it."

	Swiftly and soundlessly as he had made his appearance in the room Eugene turned 
and exited, the doors knitting close behind his back in silence.  

	Trajan took a very deep breath.  He felt Eirini stirring beneath the layers of 
blankets and tenderly he uncovered her face.  She had just woken up and was spared the 
clash of words that had passed.  He bent his face to her and she reached up to him; time 
was so precious.  His chronodisc informed him the hour of dawn was creeping closer by 
the minute. 

	"Eirini," he whispered, "would you rather have me powerful, glorious and 
omnipotent or just the way I am now." 

	"Definitely the latter choice," Eirini tweaked his nose, "I don't like majestic Lars. 
 I like you this way better."

	"Being so ordinary, I'll go and see whether we can get some breakfast."  

	"I'll go with you," Eirini stretched her arms above her head, "I have slept so long 
and I feel so hungry."  Trajan gave a laugh.  "Come with me.  We'll raid a food modular." 

	In a nearby hallway they came upon a lonesome food modular whose inert 
facescreen indicated its bowels had long since been pumped out of all sustenance.  They 
stole like two mischiefs further along the silent halls, clasping and unclasping hands, 
exchanging endearments, fleeting in and out intimate embraces like wraiths in the 
morning mist.  A modular crossing an intersection had the misfortune of running into 
them.  It was promptly stopped and plundered of its nourishments.  It was left standing on 
the scene of the raid partly gutted with its facescreen twittering indignantly while the two 
marauders stole back to their lair.  

	Trajan invigorated the Simu-fire with a fresh billow of fiery ocean surf and for the 
moment he thrust everything else aside, enjoying only Eirini's teasing and her pleasant 
laughter.  The warm food and the wine juice gradually restored his spirits.  As he finally 
pushed his plate away Eirini became serious, and the colour of her dark-green eyes 
seemed darker still as she gazed at him anxiously.

	"Stay here, Eirini," he cautioned her, "don't leave this room.  I have to go down to 
Larkae and it will be a hazardous and freezing float.  There are some more things I have 
to know.  And when everything is sorted out, would you like to stay in the House of 
Ermiz?"

	"Trajan, need you ask?"

	He lightly kissed her. "When all arrangements have been made, I'll take you to 
Ermizgarth."

	"Don't be too long, Trajan," Eirini urged, "and take some blankets with you."

	"I will try to be as quick as I can," Trajan promised.  

      The door chimed and Trajan after ascertaining who the visitor was let Vitor enter, 
looking a bit crumpled and miserable as if he had gone through a sleepless night. 

	"I am sorry I bungled the whole thing last night," were the first words Vitor 
blurted out.  "But when he came upon me from the stairs like a proper demon out of the 
soil, looking like, lardilar, so much like the other, I was simply floored."

	Trajan squeezed Vitor's shoulder.  "It is all right, Vitor. No harm was done."

	He pushed Victor to the armchair before the fire.  "We still have some food left on 
the table.  Help yourself.  While I have business to attend to in Larkae, you stay here with 
Eirini and I mean stay and don't go tramping about through Casteltheyne!  I will return in 
a few hours."  

	With another fleeting kiss Trajan parted from Eirini.  

	Eirini was overcome by a sudden onset of premonition, falling upon her like a net 
of dank, black fog, warning her that he was walking away, walking away never to return 
and this was the last that she would ever see of him.  Every cell in her brain pinpricked 
her with screaming urgency to run after him and beg him to stay.  Her muscles failed to 
function as if they were shackled by a will stronger than hers and she could only stand 
and watch him fade down the corridor.