Read Online Birthright-The Technomage Archive by B.J. Keeton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: B.J. Keeton
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but Roman never acknowledged him. He opened his mouth to speak once the conversation about the jelly on the ship died down a bit, but Roman started in again before he could speak.
“ Okay, then. Moving on,” Roman said. The space in which the group floated began to shift around the students. Stars whirled from one side of the room to another, but as one star went right, another went left, and yet others moved in and out and up and down. The whole world as the Recruits could perceive it was in flux, and the rest of the students who had ignored Nephil’s warning about not eating breakfast vomited into space. The stars began to slow down and coalesce into a building or a ship in front of them. The group flew toward it, and just as they thought they were going to accelerate directly into the hull, they passed through it like it wasn’t even there. So this is a hologram, after all , Ceril thought. At least this part of it is .
Now inside the structure, Ceril looked around at the translucent walls the stars had formed. The group moved through the corridors quickly, but they never took a step. The walls moved around them. If the vertigo of free floating in dead space didn’t bother Ceril, the too-fast-for-indoors speed with which they were moving through the halls wouldn’t either.
“ Pay attention to the route we are taking,” Roman said. “This is the way to the dining hall.” The group floated around a few corners and eventually came to rest in the middle of a very large room furnished with long tables and multicolored chairs. “Look up,” Roman said. They all did. The entire ceiling was a transparent dome through which they could see swirling reds turn into blues into purples—the hyperspace blur Roman had mentioned earlier. “Obviously, this is where you will eat while aboard.”
He waved again, and the group sped up. They left the dining hall through a corridor on the opposite side of the room. The Inkwell Sigil sped around the students for a while. It whipped corridors around them so quickly—and in such rapid succession—that Ceril wondered how anyone could actually remember where to go when they were left to their own devices. He sure wouldn’t be able to find his way around. Eventually, they climbed a very steep, spiral ramp, not unlike the one in the Phase II Library. This time, however, it wasn’t lining the room’s outer walls. It could have just as easily been a staircase.
As they circled the ramp, Roman said, “We are on our way to the dormitories now. You will each be given private quarters. You will be told which room is yours after today's orientation sessions have finished.”
Private quarters? Ceril thought. What about Swarley? He bit his lip to stop the welling of tears in his eyes. Six years? He thought that was what Roman had said before. That the Inkwell Sigil was going to be his home for six years. He wondered how much contact with the outside world he was going to have, or with Gramps and with Swarley. They really were the only two people he cared about talking to or seeing, and he had kind of been thrown into all of this really quickly.
He didn’t decide that he would be a Charon. He was told.
Surely , he thought , they won’t make me go six years without talking to my Gramps or any of my friends.
The ramp ended, and the Recruits could see ladders that led to a small walkway that allowed access to upper and lower bunks. “I’m afraid that the rooms are not luxury accommodations, but I'm sure you will find a way to make them yours.”
Their surroundings did an almost instant 180-degree turn, and the group pitched forward down the ramp. Once at the bottom, the students found themselves flying up another, almost identical ramp.
At the top, plants and flowers were everywhere. The air became noticeably fresher, and the ceiling was another dome that gave view of a green blur swirling above their heads. As the students watched, it shifted colors multiple times, and a few students
“ Okay, then. Moving on,” Roman said. The space in which the group floated began to shift around the students. Stars whirled from one side of the room to another, but as one star went right, another went left, and yet others moved in and out and up and down. The whole world as the Recruits could perceive it was in flux, and the rest of the students who had ignored Nephil’s warning about not eating breakfast vomited into space. The stars began to slow down and coalesce into a building or a ship in front of them. The group flew toward it, and just as they thought they were going to accelerate directly into the hull, they passed through it like it wasn’t even there. So this is a hologram, after all , Ceril thought. At least this part of it is .
Now inside the structure, Ceril looked around at the translucent walls the stars had formed. The group moved through the corridors quickly, but they never took a step. The walls moved around them. If the vertigo of free floating in dead space didn’t bother Ceril, the too-fast-for-indoors speed with which they were moving through the halls wouldn’t either.
“ Pay attention to the route we are taking,” Roman said. “This is the way to the dining hall.” The group floated around a few corners and eventually came to rest in the middle of a very large room furnished with long tables and multicolored chairs. “Look up,” Roman said. They all did. The entire ceiling was a transparent dome through which they could see swirling reds turn into blues into purples—the hyperspace blur Roman had mentioned earlier. “Obviously, this is where you will eat while aboard.”
He waved again, and the group sped up. They left the dining hall through a corridor on the opposite side of the room. The Inkwell Sigil sped around the students for a while. It whipped corridors around them so quickly—and in such rapid succession—that Ceril wondered how anyone could actually remember where to go when they were left to their own devices. He sure wouldn’t be able to find his way around. Eventually, they climbed a very steep, spiral ramp, not unlike the one in the Phase II Library. This time, however, it wasn’t lining the room’s outer walls. It could have just as easily been a staircase.
As they circled the ramp, Roman said, “We are on our way to the dormitories now. You will each be given private quarters. You will be told which room is yours after today's orientation sessions have finished.”
Private quarters? Ceril thought. What about Swarley? He bit his lip to stop the welling of tears in his eyes. Six years? He thought that was what Roman had said before. That the Inkwell Sigil was going to be his home for six years. He wondered how much contact with the outside world he was going to have, or with Gramps and with Swarley. They really were the only two people he cared about talking to or seeing, and he had kind of been thrown into all of this really quickly.
He didn’t decide that he would be a Charon. He was told.
Surely , he thought , they won’t make me go six years without talking to my Gramps or any of my friends.
The ramp ended, and the Recruits could see ladders that led to a small walkway that allowed access to upper and lower bunks. “I’m afraid that the rooms are not luxury accommodations, but I'm sure you will find a way to make them yours.”
Their surroundings did an almost instant 180-degree turn, and the group pitched forward down the ramp. Once at the bottom, the students found themselves flying up another, almost identical ramp.
At the top, plants and flowers were everywhere. The air became noticeably fresher, and the ceiling was another dome that gave view of a green blur swirling above their heads. As the students watched, it shifted colors multiple times, and a few students
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