The Technologist

Fourth Quarter Trials had ended and all students had been given the requisite fortnight’s leave. Most took the steam trains to the country to see the springtime bloom, while others dispersed to the city streets for two weeks of carousing. Those who had failed the trials – those who were no longer members of the Exemplar academy – were sent home or billeted with the regular Imperial forces to await their mundane military assignments.

Seth Delocke had little interest in the country this year and so opted to stay in Tarsis for the break, but he did not right away join his fellows in the obligatory drinking and debauchery that usually marked the end of the term. Instead he spent a few days wandering the city. From the grand bazaar to the industrial towers to the arena to the fishing village south of the fleet docks he wandered on foot and by train, exploring all those places of Tarsis that were often inaccessible to an ambitious technologist student with little free time.

To the average citizen, Seth was an imposing sight. Tall and solidly built, with short black hair in a fierce military cut, his physical presence projected an air of authority that was often unintentional. Even without the characteristic long coat of the Exemplar, his sharp academy tunic and clockwork gauntlet were clear indicators of his training and station, and so most gave him a wide berth.

One afternoon, his wanderings took him to the west bank of the river to the old Academy of Solarin. The technologists no longer trained here, in the birthplace of their calling, but the Exemplar school still kept a small staff here to maintain the old facilities, now fallen into a state of moderate disrepair. Seth walked slowly down the paths though the courtyards, past overgrown gardens. Ornately decorated buttresses arced overhead and baroque towers soared high above. Their ancient stone was cracked and stained with age and the slight touch of corrosive rain. He explored the open classrooms and lecture halls, listened to the echoes of lessons long since spoken.

The academy grounds overlooked the Ishigetta River directly across from the Imperial citadel, so when Seth stepped out onto the terrace above the academy quay, the reflected afternoon light of the sun glimmered everywhere. Golden motes sparkled cross the water as the citadel caught the full brunt of the setting sun’s rays. The towering silver spires and sprawling outbuildings cast back a hot glow that reached almost to the shadowed walls of the academy.

Seth leaned against the black wrought iron railing overlooking the water and watched the daily river traffic drift by. Steam powered water taxis and cargo barges ambled along, while military craft skirted about the distant docks. To the north, a trestle bridge spanned the quarter-mile expanse. The bridge had been built before the river had been created, when the distance between here and the citadel had been a modest township. That was before the Ishigetta had been diverted, had been split to surround the new island that the citadel now covered. Seth imagined he could see the ancient flooded buildings reaching up from the depths to touch the bridge’s reflected towers.

The iron railing was cold in the shadow of the academy buildings. A low vibration reverberated down its length and into Seth’s hands. He looked up to see a figure standing against the railing not 10 meters away. His long white hair tumbled down the back of his high collared Exemplar coat. Startled, Seth snapped to attention.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” said the man. “Once this spit of land overlooked a shanty town. Now it overlooks the greatest harbor on the continent.”

“Yes sir,” spat Seth automatically.

The Exemplar turned and eyed him coolly. Seth had never seen him up close before, but the recognition was instantaneous. A lined face of indeterminate years looked out from a mane of silver hair atop a wiry frame. Gavin Larkspur, special envoy of the Emperor, arguably the most powerful figure in the politically complex ranks of the technologists, brushed a gloved hand lightly across the railing and approached the student.

“This is an unusual spot for a young man to spend his evenings on leave. What brings you here, Mr. Delocke?”

“Sir… I just wanted to see the old grounds… sir.” Seth stammered.

“A noble interest, on the surface, especially from our Trial champion. What is it? Three years running now? I was most impressed with your performance in the tactical competition.”

“Thank you sir.”

“But you still haven’t answered my question. Why spend your free time at what amounts to a museum? A museum dedicated to your class work no less?” Larkspur stood a good 10 centimeters shorter than Seth, but to him, the question came from a giant.

Seth struggled to find his voice, and then finally spoke as honestly as he could. “We don’t discuss the old academy much, sir. I admit it’s been an interest of mine. History, I mean. Of the technologists. It’s all formula and design in our courses, we don’t discuss anything… um, else really.”

“A flaw in the syllabus, perhaps,” said Larkspur. “But not an insurmountable one. Prove yourself in your studies, as you have, and you’ll eventually move on to less technical subjects I assure you.”

The Exemplar stood silent for a moment, watching the glow of the sun redden in the fading evening. Seth felt the hairs on his neck stiffen in the cool river breeze.

“I’m glad you were drawn here, Mr. Delocke. I think it shows a certain commonality of thinking between us.”

“Sir?”

“I like to come here often as well. It is a refuge. An interface between the old world,” – here he gestured to the ramparts of the old academy – “and the new.” He then swept his hand to the massive glittering face of the citadel across the water.

“A generation ago, where were we? In darkness. Years of progress have given us light. Safety. Security. Superiority over our foes. The greatest naval fleet in history now belongs to a nation that was once landlocked. Nights are no longer black. Days are no longer hard. We move under the power of steam, gas, fire, and ether and our people grow strong. We have driven out the weak and the scurrilous, and Tarsis now stands an empire.

“And yet here, in the birthplace of the craft that made it all possible, there are no gas lamps. There are no rail stops. Only the memory of what once was to remind us of our destiny.”

Seth watched Larkspur as he spoke, completely taken aback by his impassioned oratory. Technologists were, at the heart, logical people. They did not often speak with such ferocity and eloquence of vision. Certainly they did not speak of darker times past. After a moment he realized that Larkspur was staring at him.

Seth struggled again to find appropriate words. He found them among something his father had once said. “Yes sir. I understand the appeal. It’s always good to look back and study what’s come before you, what others have accomplished. If we forget how we got to a certain place, we start to get caught up in the narrow specifics of what we’re doing. We lose sight of the big picture. At least, that’s what I’ve always been taught, sir.”

Larkspur’s face was unreadable.

“Mr. Delocke, would please accompany me? There are a few things on the grounds here that I’d like you to see.”

“Of course, sir!”

With that, Larkspur turned toward the academy, now draped in blackening shadows. Seth followed certain that whatever events the evening would bring, his career had begun moving in a decidedly interesting direction.