Star Winds

In another chamber stood ten smaller furnaces. These were cylindrical and high-necked, and smoked slightly. “These sublimatories supply a variety of unusual substances,” Amschel explained. “They are in constant use.”

“What happens to the fumes?” Rachad asked.

“They are carried out of the Aegis by a system of flues. We can also admit starlight by opening other small shafts. The light of certain stars can exert a subtle influence on some specially delicate operations, as can planetary configurations.”

They moved on. “I have taken a particular interest in etheric compounds,” the artifex said. “Prominent among these, as you may know, is light. Here is something intriguing.”

They had come to a bench neatly laid out with labeled bottles and sample boxes. From a felt-lined tray Amschel picked up a stony blue pellet, or possibly a semiprecious gemstone. “These are found on the planet Aggryxa. Watch.”

Fixing the stone in a nearby bracket, he gestured to the assistant who had been following them, and who took from a cupboard a peculiar-looking lamp which was backed by a concave mirror, presumably to focus its light in one direction.

The attendant lit the wick, and directed the ensuing flame’s bright glow onto the stone. For nearly a minute nothing happened, and Rachad began to grow impatient. Then, without warning, a dazzling shaft of blue light shot from the pellet and struck the adamant wall opposite, scattering in all directions in a coruscating display.

In seconds the emission ceased. The assistant blew out the lamp and put it back in the cupboard.

“The light projected by this gem has special properties,” Amschel informed Rachad. “A beam of it will travel endlessly without spreading. If focused through a lens, it is able to slice even diamond. I believe the material of the gem achieves this by storing and modifying the light of the lamp in some way. I have tried to duplicate the effect artificially, and have manufactured an inferior variety of Aggryxa gems by impregnating ruby with metallic sublimates.”

Rachad’s eyes smarted from the explosion of blueness. “Can anything else be achieved with it?” he asked.

“Very little, owing to its fleetness,” Amschel said. “As you probably know, visible light combines ether and fire, with ether predominating. There are other radiations composed of ether and air, but these are just as fleet and also are invisible, since the sense of sight responds to fire alone. For practical work I prefer compounds in which ether plays a lesser role, and which are therefore slower and more manipulatable. In infusoration, for instance, ether and fire are nearly equally balanced and mingled with about one-twentieth part water. Do you know it? Some call it galvanism, others the electric fluid. It will flow easily through solid iron or copper.”

“Master Gebeth has an infusorator using zinc, lead, copper and acids.”

“He would be interested to see my own facilities, which I boast are unexampled in the entire galaxy. I have developed new types of infusorator capable of delivering the substance with unprecedented intensity. And yet—it is still not enough.” His voice fell to a mutter. “Still not enough.”

Speaking in a low tone, he unscrewed the gemstone and replaced it in its box. “For fifty years I have studied and worked. But one lifetime is not enough. Given another fifty years, perhaps I could solve all remaining problems and produce the Stone unaided.”

“Have you always worked in the Aegis?”

“For many years I traveled extensively and worked with other adepts, including non-human philosophers. Ten years ago the Duke of Koss sent word that he had a part of The Root of Transformations in his possession, a book thought lost forever. He promised to search for the rest of the text and offered me unlimited resources. So I came into the Aegis.”

“It amazes me that the secret is so inaccessible,” Rachad remarked. “Does no one know it?”

“You would not be amazed if you knew what is entailed,” Amschel replied. “It is the most difficult of all works, the greatest of all treasures.”

“Someone must know,” Rachad fretted. He brightened.

“What about the alien creature who built the Aegis? He must know all about the transformations of matter. He can make adamant.”

“Oh, I too can make adamant, in small quantities,” Amschel chuckled. “Still, I am glad to see that you have a lively mind. Let me explain adamant to you. It is simply elemental earth, purged of all trace of other elements. Being so purged, and pure, it is impervious to all assaults—impervious even to the alkahest.”

Rachad listened with interest to this new information. “That’s what I don’t understand. Isn’t the alkahest a solvent for everything?”