The Obsidian Heart: Echoes of Empire by Barnes Mark T

Author:Barnes, Mark T.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2013-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

“LEFT TO ITS OWN DEVICES THE IMAGINATION CAN BECOME YOUR WORST ENEMY. PAIN HURTS LESS THAN THE FEAR OF PAIN. THE UNKNOWN OFTEN MORE TERRIFYING THAN THE KNOWN.”

—Zamhon, Father on the Mountain for the Ishahayan Gnostic Assassins, and Master of Assassins to the Great House of Näsarat (259th Year of the Shrīanese Federation)

DAY ? OF THE 495TH YEAR OF THE SHRĪANESE FEDERATION

Indris felt the ache in his shoulders and hips from where he was suspended, spread-eagled and naked in midair. The metal cuffs around his wrists and ankles were hot: not quite painful, yet far from comfortable. There was the faint snap and growl of energy tethers that connected the cuffs to the frame around him. Sweat trickled down his arms, torso, and back. His thighs, calves, and shins. A cold breeze whistled in from somewhere behind him, chilling the sweat as it formed so he burned and was chilled at once.

There was barely enough light to see the rough, irregular facets of the obsidian walls. He was held motionless in the centre of a large metallic wheel, inlaid with formulae in gold wire, set at regular intervals with metallic disks wound with copper wire and heavy-looking magnets. When he craned his neck he could make out a circle of lightless ilhen crystals above, another below.

Sēq Inquisitors called the contraption he was in the Circumscription Well. Others called it the Potentiality Sink—a device that held its occupant tighter, the more energy they used to try and escape. While Indris remained quiet and did nothing, it let him be. The moment he exerted either physical or mental force, it was drained into the Well and stored for who knows how long. Knowing it would be futile—though needing to exclude it as a possibility—Indris tentatively used the ahmsah to see what could not otherwise be seen. He swore. Beyond the curve of the Well, the room was a cat’s cradle of disentropy, shot through with hints of hot color: the hues of militant energy.

Can this thing be overloaded? He had never heard of it being done, but there was a first time for everything.

He extended his senses. Slowly at first, gradually gathering more of the world’s latent energy until he felt pins and needles begin in his spine. Awareness became discomfort. Discomfort became pain. Pins and needles turned to vicious shocks that caused—

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