“Mostly what I’ve read, heard. That book you have there is probably the best study out there. It’s somewhat dated now—doesn’t take into account the Church’s current growth or some of the more flamboyant virt powers that have manifested in the last several years, but what it deals with has a solid foundation.”
“Then you believe in the virt powers?”
“Believe? Is it a matter of belief when something is true?”
“All right. Then what you’re saying is that they do occur.”
“Yes. They range from something like luckiness to telekinesis to levitation to… well, some of these recent virtuosos seem to be able to manifest a second body.”
“I read about that in a newstrip,” Jay commented, frowning. “The virt form almost always resembles something out of the Sumerian/Babylonian pantheon. I suppose that makes sense, since their religion employs those forms, but it’s…”
“Creepy?”
“I guess. Things like that aren’t supposed to happen in Verite. Ghosts are about as strange as things get.”
Reese chuckled but didn’t comment. If the boy wanted to imagine that he lived in a haunted castle it was a safe enough fancy.
“Why the interest in the Church of Elish, Jay? I thought you were into Cabalistic philosophy and updating Leviticus.”
“I’m still going to that—” Jay stopped and stared at Reese. “How did you know? I thought I was careful!”
He glared wildly at Mizar as if the dog might have reported on him, but the dog stopped shredding the old shoe long enough to look innocently at his accuser from his uneven eyes of red and green.
“I told him, son,” said the bracelet in the voice of John D’Arcy Donnerjack, Senior. “You could hardly think that I would not notice your forays. I asked Reese for his advice since he has raised children and I have not. He told me that thus far you were behaving safely, prudently, and so I was inclined to permit you to continue your adventures.”
Jay scuffed the turf with one bare toe and scowled at the bracelet. It had rested there on his wrist for so long, the band expanding as he grew, that at times he completely forgot its existence. Even when he took virt form, as he did now, it translated with him, apparently as indispensable to his entirety as his heart. Lately, however, when he looked at it the image that spontaneously sprang to mind was of the crusader ghost and his ankle chain.
With vast effort, he kept from voicing his objections to having his life so carefully monitored. The bracelet’s knowledge had been all that had saved him when the Lord of Deep Fields assaulted the castle. Protestations that he could take care of himself would seem petty, and worse—adolescent.
“Reese, I’ve been thinking about these virt powers the Church of Elish claims to engender in its acolytes. When you think about it, isn’t it a bit like what I can do? In both the case of my ability and these virt powers, something crosses the interface that should not be able to cross.”
“True,” Reese said, patting the stone nearest to him in mute invitation for the boy to sit. “Of course, there is a great difference between most virt powers and what you can do.”
“All but this latest trend toward physical manifestations,” Jay protested. “That’s pretty close.”
“It is,” Reese said, “if the reports are accurate. I have never seen one of these manifestations myself. There are some clever ways people can be fooled into believing they see something—especially if they have preconditioned expectations.”
“I’ll grant you that,” Jay agreed.
“And we still haven’t figured out how you achieve the virt crossover. Is it something you inherited from your mother? Is it inherent in the bracelet? How did you pull Dubhe across?”
Jay shrugged, then winked at Reese.
“Bracelet, are you what permits my virt crossover?”
“I am not permitted to answer that question.”
“Not permitted,” Jay said, raising the bracelet to eye level and staring at it, “or cannot?”
“I am not permitted to answer that question,” the bracelet replied, but a faint sound that might have been a chuckle accompanied the words.
“Too many variables.” Jay sighed, lowering the bracelet. “Very well. Reese, I want to go into the Verite—the public areas, not just Castle Donnerjack.”
“Very well. For any particular reason?”
Jay, prepared to argue, had to stop and collect his thoughts.
“I’ve heard rumors that the Church of Elish is planning a big festival to celebrate some anniversary of its founding. It will begin in the Verite with public demonstrations of virt manifestations, then cross into Virtu for private services for the faithful.”
“And you want to see the virt manifestations. Good thought.”
“I… You agree?”
“I told you once, I know that I cannot keep you from doing what you want to do if you have your mind set on it. I appreciate your confiding in me. However, you are going to be at considerable risk.”
Jay swallowed. Until Reese gave his permission he hadn’t realized how much he expected to be prevented from going. He leaned forward to concentrate on what Reese was saying.
“People are different in the Verite than in Virtu, different in all sorts of subtle ways that I cannot codify for you. The similarities are greater, however, and should guide you. Where is this festival to be held?”
“On the North American continent. I believe they’re trying for a big city so that the virt transfer facilities will be in place.”
“New York is my guess, then. This time of year the weather won’t be too bad and Central Park would make a good gathering point. I suggest that you tell anyone who asks that you are a foreigner—Scottish, perhaps. Can you do the accent?”
“Aye, I hae listened to Angus and the Duncan.” Reese looked at the bracelet. “Any comments, John?”
“I am not in favor of this trip, however, I bow to your superior knowledge of human psychology. Let’s contact Paracelsus at the Donnerjack Institute to arrange transportation and papers for the boy. I don’t want him leaving any records.”
“Thanks… Dad,” Jay said, his earlier apprehension giving way to excitement.
The bracelet only sighed.
Randall Kelsey lingered to speak with Ben Kwinan after the rest of the meeting had been dismissed. The walls of the conference room still displayed projected maps of the celebration site in New York City’s Central Park—surface access marked in blue, landing pads marked in violet, vendor’s avenue in green, permanent transfer facilities in red, temporary facilities in brilliant tangerine orange.
“Do you think we’ll really pull this off?” Kelsey asked.
“I have no reason to believe otherwise. The last remaining problem was convincing the mayor that we could provide security for the event. Aoud Araf has done so to the mayor’s satisfaction and, more importantly, to mine.”
Kwinan crossed to the bar, poured himself a drink, mutely offered Kelsey one. Kelsey shook his head.
“Nothing thanks, I have to drive.”
“One of the advantages, I suppose, of being virt born is I need not worry about such things,” Kwinan said, “but I long to breathe the air of Verite.”
“Not in New York City, you don’t,” Kelsey said with a chuckle. “Even with the improvements of the past century it can get a bit ripe—especially if the day is warm.”
“It still seems peculiar that we cannot simply petition the resident
AI for ideal weather.” Kwinan shook his head in wonder. “An entire world—an entire universe—without gods. We will do the Verite a great favor when the divine plan is fulfilled.”