galvarelli/calvin-waits-at-westgate.txt

Calvin sat in front of the table in his room.
He hoped Vaughan wouldn't mind spending time alone with their dwarrow attendant, but Calvin wanted the time alone.

He kept his notebook ready to record the enemy Voice, and pulled out the slim book Yakaterina had recommended.
The first exercise in the book was simple; breathing in and out.
With closed eyes, he pictured a grassy hill, and inhaled deeply, trying to imagine its smell.
He imagined the flow of water across the surface of the hill, and the roots of the grass holding the soil fast.

He tried to picture a stampede through a mountain valley, the rumbling of fellow yaks on either side.
The imagined valley seemed to grow deeper and deeper, as though the stampede were descending into the earth itself, and Calvin found himself buried in the dirt.
He tried to move his legs, but felt stuck.
He looked up: the view of the stampede had dissolved; he had no legs left either.
Effort, struggle, pulling at the ground, and suddenly his mind snapped.
His body hadn't sunk into the ground.
His legs _were_ the soil, when he pulled and pushed he could feel the grass rooted with in him moving gently in response, whispering lightly.

Then another presence, not soil, not grass.
Somehow false, a shovel being thrust in his soil body.
But he could feel that although the soil moved, it was left unharmed, and he swatted the intrusion away like a minor fly, and he felt it retreat.

The smell of grass was stronger now, vivid timothy, somehow taken life beyond the false smell he'd tried to imagine.
A solid stone block seemed to come to his view.
He grasped it and perceived it as he'd never perceived stone.
He felt the minerals within, which somehow seemed to have more meaning to him than he'd ever had before.
The stone was too compact, though, it hoarded its treasure too greedily.
Following some instinct he couldn't explain, he focussed on the stone more deeply.
He could somehow feel the weight of its millions of years of age, and could taste something unusual, not unpleasant, but unfamiliar.
Processed, he somehow intuited.

Looking even deeper in the stone, he could feel some minor energy, some spark that could be kindled.
He gently prodded at it, pushing some warmth into it.
Now, the smell of grass was overwhelming, .
Not just timothy, but a handful of flowers, and alfalfa.

The spark within the stone was now burning brightly, too brightly.
It started to push back at him, singeing the edges of his senses.
Then, the presence from earlier returned, cutting not at his soil body but whatever body he had here, holding the stone block.
He lost his focus and lost control, the fire was now roaring, and a voice came in his head.
_Calvin, you can help the people you are supposed to serve_

Calvin felt alert.
This was danger, it must be the new voice.
Calvin tried to reach for his pen, but his body didn't respond immediately.
He tried to pull on the soil, or grass, or whatever he'd done earlier but he had lost any control he had had.
The others might not be safe, Vaughan needed to do something, Calvin thought.

Immediately the Voice disappeared.
The fire he felt had gone as well.
His eyes were open.

He was lying on his bed, Vaughan standing next to him.

―Sir, are you okay?

Vaughan was holding a tall glass of water, which Calvin happily took.
His back hurt, and he could only remember the vague outlines of what had happened.

―What happened?

―I'd ask you the same thing.
	I thought I heard you calling for help, was just next door.
	When we came in, you were lying on the ground, and, well.
	Whatever this is.

He was gesturing over to the table.
Or, as Calvin saw when he propped himself up, gesturing to where the table had been.
In its place now was a large pile of soil, a faint comforting fertile smell coming from it.

―Did you ask them to remove the table?
	What happened Calvin?

Calvin shook his head.

―Not sure, Vaughan.
	I was reading Yakaterina's manual on the applied Meadowlark, trying out an exercise, but I must have just done too much.

―Do you feel okay?

―Just drained, exhausted.
	I might need to rest here for a bit until dinner.
	How'd I get in the bed?

Vaughan looked a bit chagrined.

―I went next door for help, Jason and Kari helped lift you up into bed.
	I sent them out right away.
	That's okay, right?

Calvin waved his hand dismissively.
―Yeah, of course.
	Thank you Vaughan, I owe you.

―Sir, Vaughan started hesitantly. You might need to be careful with that.
	We don't know what Yakaterina wanted, and she could have been trying to trick you.
	Or somehow convert you over to the Hierarchy.

―I know, Vaughan.

Calvin sighed.
―If I want to use this, I'll have to learn how to control it.
	Clearly it's a powerful tool, but I'm not really sure what happened.
	I think I felt the stone table and helped it become soil, somehow?
	The manual just talked about a breathing exercise, not actually doing anything.

Calvin stood.
He felt okay on his feet.
The two books were lying on top of the pile of dirt, and looked unchanged.
He opened up the notebook, and saw he'd written down what the Voice had said to him.

―Vaughan, I think it was the Voice somehow.
	I wrote down that it said I could help my people, but why?
	Am I doing something wrong by wanting to help them?

―Do you remember anything about what you were thinking when it happened?

―Not really.
	It was fuzzy, images of soil and grass.

Vaughan gave Calvin a worried look.

―Calvin, are you sure we should be here?
	If we're back home, we could talk to some scholars, or if you trust what Yakaterina told you, maybe Auroklos would know more?
	But we're out of our depth, right?
	It's not just politics anymore, this is all of us yaks, and it might be irresponsible to do it alone.

―Auroklos was pretty clear that Mountberg was our only hope.
	Maybe the voice was trying to get me to go home to help the people there?
	Unless it wanted me to go to Mountberg?
	Argh!

―Sir, we're not going to figure this out right now.
	You need to rest a minute, and we'll have to figure out what our options even are.
	We'll talk to the chief and see how far away Mountberg will be, and make a decision then.
	Sound good?

―Yeah, thanks Vaughan.
	Sounds good to me.

―I'll make sure you get some privacy, get some rest and I'll see you soon.
	And please don't try anything else from that book.

Vaughan left the room, and Calvin tried his best to quiet his troubled thoughts as he drifted into a light nap.