David Weber - How firm a foundation

“I never knew the real Schueler,” Merlin said. “Nimue may have met him, but if so, it was after she’d recorded… me.” He smiled sadly. “Because of that, I’ve never seen any reason not to assume The Book of Schueler was written by the ‘Archangel Schueler,’ but we really don’t have confirmation of the authorship of any of the books of the Writ, when you come down to it. For that matter, The Book of Schueler wasn’t part of the original, early copy of the Writ Commodore Pei left in Nimue’s Cave. The entire thing was extensively reworked after Langhorne took out the Alexandrian Enclave-inevitably, I suppose-and The Book of Schueler and The Book of Chihiro were both added. I don’t know if it’s any consolation, Father, but it really is possible the actual Schueler never wrote the book credited to him. And if he didn’t, then he isn’t the author of the Question and the Punishment, either.”

“I would like to believe that was the case,” Wylsynn said softly after a moment. “I’d like to believe not everything I thought I knew was a lie. And if it’s true my family actually is descended from the real Schueler, it would ease my heart to know he wasn’t capable of decreeing such hideous penalties in defense of a ‘religion’ he knew was nothing but a lie.”

He was silent again for a moment. Then he gave himself a shake.

“However that may be,” he continued more briskly, “what my family’s referred to as ‘the Vision of the Archangel Schueler’ for as long as we can remember instructs us not simply in our duty to keep Mother Church untainted, without stain, focused on her great mission in the world, but also charges us with a special responsibility. A Key within the Key, as it were.”

“I beg your pardon?” Merlin asked.

“There’s a chamber under the Temple,” Wylsynn told him. “I’ve never actually been there, but I’ve seen it in ‘the Vision.’ I know the way to it, and I can picture it in my mind’s eye even now. And within that chamber is an altar, one with ‘God lights’ set into its surface. There are also two handprints, one each for a right and a left hand, on either side of a small, circular recess. According to ‘the Vision,’ if one truly dedicated to God and His plan places the Key in that recess and his hands in those imprints and calls upon Schueler’s name, the power of God Himself will awaken to defend Mother Church in her hour of need.”

Merlin felt the heart he no longer had stop beating.

“According to ‘the Vision,’ it may be done only once, and only in the hour of Mother Church’s true need,” Wylsynn continued. “Knowing Father and Uncle Hauwerd, there’s no way they would have viewed the Reformist movement as a genuine threat to Mother Church. The Church of Charis has made no demands which actually conflict with the Writ in any way, and they would have realized that as well as I do. I’m sure the schism distressed them deeply, and that both of them were profoundly concerned about the implications for the unity of God’s church and plan, but the Temple would have had to be threatened with actual physical invasion before either of them would have felt the time had come to awaken God’s power in the Church’s defense. There’s no doubt in my mind that both of them agreed with the Reformists’ indictments of the vicarate and believed the Reformists were truer sons of God than the Group of Four could ever be. I don’t know where that would have led them in the end, but there’s no way they would have presumed to beseech God to strike down men and women they believed were simply attempting to live the lives and the faith God had ordained for them from the beginning.”

The others were all looking at Merlin, and Cayleb cleared his throat.

“Is that ‘altar’ what I’m afraid it is?” he asked carefully.

“I don’t know… but it certainly could be,” Merlin said unhappily. “I don’t know what would happen if someone obeyed Schueler’s commands. It might simply trigger some sort of reaction out of the bombardment platform. Or, for that matter, one of the things I’ve been afraid of for some time is that Langhorne-or whoever built the Temple after Langhorne was dead-could have included an AI in the master plan. Something like Owl, but probably with more capacity. Only I’d decided that couldn’t be the case, because if there were an AI monitoring what the vicarate’s been up to for the last two or three centuries, it probably would’ve already intervened. But if there’s something like that down there that’s on standby, waiting for a human command to wake it up…”

His voice trailed off, and Cayleb, Staynair, and Waignair looked at one another tautly.

“I have far too little grasp of this ‘technology’ you’ve described to even guess whether or not there’s an ‘AI’ involved,” Wylsynn said. “I only know that if ‘the Vision’ is telling the truth and the ritual is properly performed, something will respond.”

“But no one beyond your family even knows about the ritual?” Cayleb asked, and Wylsynn shrugged.

“To the best of my knowledge, no, Your Majesty. On the other hand, so far as I know, none of the other families in the vicarate were aware of what my family knew, either. We always believed on the basis of what ‘the Vision’ told us that we’d been chosen, singled out, as the only guardians of that chamber and altar, but there may have actually been others. The Stone’s existence was known, of course, although most people believe it was lost forever at Saint Evrahard’s death. So far as we knew, no one else had ever been informed of the Key’s existence, although, in more recent years, Father came to fear from some things he’d heard that perhaps someone else did know at least something about the Key and the Stone’s continued existence. He never said who that someone might be, but I know he was concerned by the possibility of one or both of them falling into hands which might well misuse them.”

“I wish we could get our hands on that damned Key!” Merlin said forcefully, and Wylsynn surprised him with a chuckle.

“What?” Merlin’s eyes narrowed. “I said something funny?”

“No,” Wylsynn said. “But when I said Father and Uncle Hauwerd wouldn’t have petitioned God to strike the Reformists, I suppose I should really have said they couldn’t have. When Father suggested I should take the post as Archbishop Erayk’s intendant here in Charis, he sent me on my way at least in part to keep certain things out of Clyntahn’s reach. With the Stone, of course, but also with a family keepsake. A paperweight.”

“The ‘Key’ is here in Charis? ” Cayleb demanded.

“Sitting on the corner of my desk in the Patent Office, Your Majesty,” Wylsynn confirmed.

“With your permission, Father, I’d like to have one of Owl’s remotes collect that from you and take it back to Nimue’s Cave where we can examine it properly,” Merlin said, watching Wylsynn’s face carefully.

“Of course you have my permission… not that I imagine there’s much I could do to stop you,” Wylsynn replied with a half smile. Then his expression sobered once more. “Just as I’m reasonably confident that if it turns out you were… ill-advised to tell me the truth about the Church and the Archangels, there wouldn’t be much I could do to stop you from correcting your error.”

The silence was sudden and intense, lingering until Wylsynn himself broke it with a small, dry chuckle.

“I’m an inquisitor, a Schuelerite,” he said. “Surely you didn’t imagine I could hear what you’ve told me and not recognize what you’d have to do if you thought I might betray you? I’m sure all of you-especially you, Your Eminence-would deeply regret the necessity, but I’m also sure you’d do it. And if you’re telling me the truth, which I believe you are, you’d have no choice.”