Nocturnal University 1: Higher Learning

Nocturnal University #1

Higher Learning

By

Ethan Somerville

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Storm Publishing on Smashwords

Nocturnal University 1 – Higher Learning

Copyright © 2014/2016 by Ethan Somerville

www.stormpublishing.net

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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Chapter 1

Clouds drift across the Earth every day. Following the wind they seem to change constantly, sometimes forming interesting shapes that resemble people, animals or amusing fantasy creatures. Other times they join together to form massive swirling storms that rumble with thunder and spit lightning down upon the world.

But occasionally, very occasionally, clouds don’t shift at all. There is one cloud in particular that has held its shape for almost two thousand years. The only reason it hasn’t been noticed is because during the day it hides itself in other clouds, and only moves around at night. Sometimes it lurks behind a mountaintop. Other times it drifts close to the ground as fog. Occasionally it hides in the icy wastes of the extreme north or south, or above uninhabited deserts.

Only recently, due to increased air traffic, has it actually started needing more substantial Magick protection. This is because when viewed from above, this particular cloud isn’t actually a cloud at all.

It is the Nocturnal University, the oldest of all the Nocturnal Schools. Created in the year 342 AD by the great vampire mage Adamus Nocturnus, it has grown from a single floating platform to a giant sprawling mass that can never stay in one place for more than a couple of days at a time. It is a confusing mess of buildings, some over a thousand years old and covered with ivy, others modern and gleaming and seeming to float in the air with no Earthly connection. All buildings are linked by glass walkways, concrete platforms, stone bridges and layers of grassy green fields that during the daylight hours are always thickly covered with trees. It is a place where even teachers who have been in residence for years can get lost if they aren’t careful.

To make the Nocturnal University even more interesting, it is riddled with tunnels and secret passages from ages past. Every time a new wing is constructed, it is usually built over an existing one. For a while the old structure remains in use, then slowly all the students, lectures and researchers move into the new one, leaving the old building to slowly disappear into legend. Maps of the school usually only show the very latest structures. Adamus Nocturnus is rumoured to be buried somewhere deep within the structure, along with countless other teachers who have long since passed away.

Into this bizarre floating world came Professor Icarus Abbacus from the Australian Nocturnal Academy. He was unique in that he was the first teacher from this particular school to ever receive a post at the world’s oldest and most exclusive Nocturnal Academy. Previously, the University had only chosen its lecturers from the more established schools.

But none of these establishments had been able to produce a teacher with Abbacus’ particular expertise. Not only was he an extremely powerful mage, but he was also a very experienced technomancer. He could communicate with and control machine-spirits to a degree never before encountered by the Nocturnal University’s faculty heads.

Only recently had the Nocturnal University come to rely on this mysterious breed of wizards. For centuries – possibly even millennia – the old school had used books, ledgers, candles, lanterns and Magick to keep itself running. But the technology of the Earth beneath had quickly surpassed what could be done with spells. Steam could warm the dorms far more cheaply than heat enchantments. Electricity could illuminate the lecture halls far more efficiently and with far less cost. And computers could store far more information than the biggest library. Even spellbooks could be contained in specially treated electronic databases.

It had taken the university’s mages years to learn how to merge science and Magick. It seemed the two methods of development just weren’t compatible. But they had persevered, and eventually got the Nocturnal University to run smoothly and efficiently. Occasionally something would disintegrate, or blow up, or vanish in a puff of smoke - but all in all their system was no more dangerous than the experiments that took place in their many science labs on a daily basis.

The Nocturnal University’s own small team of technomancers believed their system was perfectly fine, despite a recent increase in accidents. They resented the dean’s decision to bring in that so-called expert to investigate.

What could that provincial from the world’s most disreputable Nocturnal Academy possibly know that they didn’t?

But the current dean, a water elemental named Professor Walter Piskine, may have been conservative and paranoid, but he was still a very shrewd and farsighted soul. The last thing he wanted was the Nocturnal University to fall. He was prepared to overlook the Australian Academy’s reputation and take on Abbacus.

Like most elementals, Professor Piskine’s appearance revealed his aspect. He was tall and thin, green-skinned, with scales on his cheekbones and forehead. He had long seaweed hair that he wore tied back, and favoured suits that looked like they had been made from crocodile skin. He seemed to flow when he walked, and because he had been brought up in a tropical climate, he preferred warm water to cold. He may have had some old-fashioned views, but when it came to other cultures and aspects he considered himself progressive and open-minded. However when he saw Professor Abbacus for the first time, even his cool composure was rattled.

Some of the more fanatical technomancers on his staff had started to adopt mechanical aspects. Dr Halon Widget had had a computer chip installed in his head to aid his memory, and his colleague, Dr Muriel Primus, wore funky 3D glasses that provided her with a constant heads-up display from her computer.

However neither could compete with Professor Abbacus, who, when he lifted his hat in introduction, revealed that he was far more machine than human. He had a steel skull studded with brass rivets, a grille where his mouth should have been and a big red lens in place of his right eye. But, to his credit, Professor Piskine only faltered for a second before smoothly continuing his introduction.

Welcome to the Nocturnal University, Professor. I do hope you will enjoy your stay here.

Professor Abbacus simply grunted as he slapped his hat back on and looked around the ancient entry hall. He was clearly unimpressed by the sight. The large foyer was illuminated by Magickal globes of light that hovered close to the ceiling until needed. This was one hallowed chamber that had not been profaned by the inexorable march of technology. Tall Roman columns capped with elaborately carved capitols held up a high vaulted ceiling, and the walls were hung with paintings of long forgotten deans and alumni. But to Piskine, it seemed no matter where the Nocturnal University was parked, an icy wind howled through this cavernous room.

But Professor Abbacus turned back around to glare up at Piskine. No matter how you dress it up, Dean, I’ve still been shanghaied.

The Dean forced himself to focus on the technomancer’s relatively normal looking blue eye. Yes, well - I am sorry about that, but we all have to answer to the Nocturnal Council. Piskine rubbed his long, thin hands together. Because he was a water elemental, he tended to sweat a lot when nervous.

Professor Abbacus refused to be mollified, and planted his hands, one human, one mechanical, on his narrow hips. I was perfectly happy down under in the Australian Academy, out of the way, minding my own business. This had better be a serious promotion.

Oh, let me assure you it is! Piskine gushed, and then felt embarrassed by his outburst. Why was he pandering to Abbacus? He was supposed to be the one in charge here! He had a horrible feeling that Abbacus was this obnoxious to everyone he met. He might not have been very tall, but he seemed to exude a formidable presence, as though there was a lot more of him the Dean couldn’t actually see. Hurriedly Piskine cleared his throat. Come, let me show you your office and introduce you to your staff. We have arranged substantial accommodation for you.

"It had better be very substantial," Abbacus growled, but allowed himself to be led off. He followed Piskine, his booted feet making a distinctly metallic clinking noise on the old marble floor. The dean wondered just how much of him was machine under the enormous black leather coat that covered him from neck to toe.

Piskine supposed that if he had been unceremoniously removed from his position and shoved somewhere else he would be upset too. But surely any position was better than being stuck at the Australian Academy? And especially one here, at the most illustrious Nocturnal Academy of them all? Piskine couldn’t understand the grumpy little technomancer’s attitude. He hoped Abbacus’ mood would improve once he saw where he would be working.

Piskine led Abbacus from the great main hall and into the Nocturnal University grounds. They hurried upstairs and down long winding passages of varying vintage and crossed grassy fields lined with trees. Students lounged under some of the permanent growths with their books and computers, taking a break between lectures. They represented supernaturals of all aspects, from all walks of life.

Piskine and Abbacus passed the Nocturnal University’s enormous library; a teetering, architectural nightmare. Gleaming new additions of glass and steel jutted from older sections of brick and stone. Entire wings appeared to defy gravity as they extended off at various angles. The entire area reeked of powerful spatial distortion spells. Even the very oldest portions, built during Roman times and buried deep within the massive complex, were still in use.

Professor Abbacus actually stopped to stare at the monstrosity. His human eye went wide. I certainly don’t want to be inside there when all those enchantments finally implode, he declared, loud enough to cause Piskine to turn.

The dean reddened. Ah, yes, he declared in a low voice as he hurried over to Abbacus. We don’t like to talk about that. At least not out in public. The dean gestured towards the dozens of students lounging on the stairs in front of the library. They were all staring at the mysterious new professor. We’re working on it, he continued in the same soft voice. We’ve managed to scan and archive thousands of old books we no longer need, and have deactivated three sections already.

Professor Abbacus folded his arms and sniffed. Still, it’s full of fractures. I can see them, you know.

Piskine reddened again. We’re working as fast as we can! he retorted, once again annoyed that he’d been put on the back foot.

Abbacus flipped a hand. I’m sure you are.

Piskine actually swore under his breath. He prided himself on his normally endless temper, but Abbacus was really starting to get under his meniscus. He had to take several deep breaths to calm himself. You wanted the best, he told himself. You’ll just have to find a way to deal with this professor’s epic ego.

Unfortunately the Technomancy Department, a relatively new section, was located practically at the very edge of the giant floating island that as the Nocturnal University. However, it did occupy a gleaming new building, recently constructed on the ruins of an old one that was slowly disintegrating into the bowels of memory. And it commanded a truly magnificent view of the swirling cloud that protected the underside of the university from view.

Piskine had hoped this, at least, would impress Abbacus. But the technomancer simply gave another disdainful sniff. Piskine sighed. Clearly there was no moving the man. He resigned himself to the fact that the top floor office he had chosen for Abbacus would probably elicit the same reaction. And it did. Abbacus walked around the entire perimeter of the office once, muttering under his breath all the while. Then he turned to look at the dean. It’ll do, I suppose.

Inside his head, Piskine counted to ten. He had never done that before. The best, he reminded himself. If you’ll let me know when your luggage will be arriving, I’ll arrange for someone to bring it all up for you.

Professor reached into his jacket and drew out what looked like a small glass box. No need for that. I have everything I need right here.

Piskine stared. "In that?"

I travel light. Abbacus placed the box in the middle of the bare wooden floor. You might want to leave the room. It could get rather messy if you stay. Abbacus headed for the door. Behind him, the little box started to smoke.

Piskine swore and darted out after Abbacus, who slammed the door behind him. There was a loud bang, sufficient to bulge the door outwards. A very pungent smell of sulphur filled the air.

Professor Abbacus, there are rules about casting spells on University property! Piskine shouted at him.

No need to worry, Dean. I made sure of the room’s structural integrity before deactivating the compression capsule. Professor Abbacus placed his hand on the handle of the buckled door and pushed it in with a mournful creak. Piskine noticed that the back of the door was now a solid steel panel complete with locking wheel. "There are never any ruptures in my spatial distortion spells."

Piskine counted to ten again. That’s not what I meant! he hissed through clenched teeth. All extensive modification plans must be laid out before the University Council for approval first!

Professor Abbacus ignored him and stepped back into his office, now five times larger than it was before and crammed with scientific equipment. Battle-scarred lab benches lined the walls, cluttered with intricate experiments that bubbled and hissed and belched clouds of multi-coloured smoke. Teetering racks of chemicals reached the ceiling. Cupboards and cabinets bulged with tools, machines and spare parts. A truly bizarre computer with nine separate monitors stood on a bench in the middle of the room. Professor Abbacus rubbed his mismatched hands together. "Ahh, that’s more like it. Now this place almost feels like home."

You also need to lodge an equipment transfer request with the University Council before bringing any non-regulation scientific or Magickal apparatus up here! Piskine yelled.

Professor Abbacus flipped his hand again. Don’t bore me with bureaucracy, Dean. I’m here to do a job, and I need all this equipment to do that job. What did you expect? That I was going to sit behind a desk surrounded by books?

We have extensive, highly resourced laboratories here! shouted Piskine.

Yes, I’m sure you do, Professor Abbacus answered.

Piskine wanted to strangle him. He was so furious that he could feel himself start to dissolve. He had to count to thirty before he could finally rein his feelings in. He didn’t want to cause anything to short out. He hadn’t yet met a technomancer who liked water. But this is my own personal equipment, and I know how everything works. I doubt those other technomancers want me meddling with their equipment. I for one certainly don’t like anyone touching my stuff.

Piskine opened his mouth to retort, and then closed it. Finally, Abbacus had said something that didn’t infuriate him. A valid point, but I’ll still need to report all this.

You do what you need to, Dean. Just don’t bother me with the details. He removed his hat, tossing it over a hook near the door, and unwound a scarf from around his neck. Now, are you going to introduce me to these other technomancers of yours?"

Piskine heaved a huge sigh. I suppose so, Professor, but I doubt you’ll find them as easy-going as me.

Professor Piskine took Professor Abbacus down from his new office to the laboratories where he knew the other technomancers would probably be this time of day. Since Abbacus had rubbed him up the wrong way already, he was dreading how the other Magick scientists would react to his brusque manner. None of them were known for their patience, and were only truly happy dealing with machines.

The technomancy laboratories were located on the first floor, above the lecture halls. As luck would have it all five of them were inside, working on various projects. They didn’t particularly get along with each other either, and were all in different sections of the main lab. Professor Piskine had to call them together.

As the technomancers grudgingly left their lab benches, Professor Abbacus looked around the laboratory. Professor Piskine expected his usual sniff of disdain, but for once he actually appeared interested. Like the portable lab he’d installed upstairs, the main lab was cluttered with machines and other devices in various states of construction and repair. Monitors of all shapes and sizes hung from the walls. On one nearby bench, someone had been in the process of dismantling a mobile phone. Professor Abbacus went over to it and picked it up. He poked around inside for a couple of seconds, waved his human hand over the machine, and there was a bright green flash and puff of sulphuric smoke.

There, it ought to work now, he declared.

What are you doing? demanded a querulous voice. Abbacus and Piskine looked up to see a tall, skinny man in a dirty white lab-coat come stomping around the corner. He couldn’t have looked more like a mad scientist if he’d tried. White hair stood straight out from his head and he wore glasses with coke-bottle lenses etched with circuit diagrams and some sort of complicated-looking ear-piece hooked onto one arm. I’m trying to get that to work across all networks!

No need to worry - I’ve sorted it out for you. I worked out how to solve the communication problem years ago. Professor Abbacus handed over the phone.

Dr Halon Widget, meet Professor Icarus Abbacus, our new head of Technomancy, the Dean explained dryly.

Dr Widget glared at Abbacus, but then he stared down at the machine in his hands, and his angry expression softened. I don’t believe it! Thank you ... I guess. But please don’t touch anything else around here! He waved his hand at the other half-finished experiments. I have everything set up here just how I like it.

Dr Widget is unique here at the Nocturnal University, Dean Piskine explained. He’s not a supernatural at all. He’s a human mage of exceptional intelligence.

Yes, I was recruited from Oxford, can you believe that? Dr Widget still looked beside himself to be here. I’d actually started teaching myself the Language of Magick from various books I’d found, and used it to help me modify and enhance computers-

What are you blathering about this time, Halon? interrupted a loud, imperious voice. No-one’s interested in how you learned Magick.

And this Dr Muriel Primus, Piskine continued in the same humourless tone.

She was quite obviously a vampire from a very old family. Tall and slender, with luxurious brown curls that seemed to have a life of their own, and shifted constantly around her lithe body. She wore a pair of thick glasses with reflective lenses. A curly cable ran from one arm down into the collar of her extremely low cut red dress. When Piskine introduced Professor Abbacus, it was her turn to stare in disdain.

"So you’re the one who thinks he can run this section better than someone who has been here for ten years!" she declared as the rest of her colleagues appeared.

I’ve been here for fifteen years, Muriel,