The Atlas Paradox, page 1
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For my talisman,
Henry Atlas
PERSONS OF INTEREST
CAINE, TRISTAN
Tristan Caine is the son of Adrian Caine, head of a magical crime syndicate. Tristan would resent having his father as a point of introduction, but there is little Tristan does not resent. Born in London and educated at the London School of Magic, Tristan is a former venture capitalist for the Wessex Corporation as well as the estranged former fiancé of Eden Wessex. Trained in the school of illusion, Tristan’s true specialty is unknown, though his talents include seeing through illusions (See also: quantum theory; time; illusions—seeing through illusions; components—magical components). Per the Alexandrian Society elimination terms, Tristan was tasked with killing Callum Nova. For reasons ostensibly related to his conscience, Tristan did not succeed.
FERRER DE VARONA, NICOLÁS (may refer to DE VARONA, NICOLÁS or DE VARONA, NICO)
Nicolás Ferrer de Varona, commonly called Nico, was born in Havana, Cuba, and sent to the United States at an early age, where he would later graduate from the prestigious New York University for Magical Arts. Nico is uncommonly gifted as a physicist and possesses several capabilities outside his specialty (See also: lithospheric proclivities; seismology—tectonics; shifting—human to animal; alchemy; draughts—alchemical). Nico has a close friendship with fellow NYUMA graduates Gideon Drake and Maximilian Wolfe, and despite a long-standing antagonism, an alliance with Elizabeth “Libby” Rhodes. While Nico is extremely skilled in hand-to-hand combat, this did not prevent him from losing his ally in the end.
KAMALI, PARISA
Little about the details of Parisa Kamali’s early life or true identity is known beyond speculation (See also: beauty, curse of—Callum Nova). Parisa was born in Tehran, Iran, and attended École Magique de Paris. She is a telepath of great proficiency with a variety of known associations (Tristan Caine; Libby Rhodes) and experiments (time—mental chronometry; subconscious—dreams; Dalton Ellery). It would be inadvisable to trust her. Undoubtedly, though, you will.
MORI, REINA
If little is known about Parisa Kamali, even less is known about Reina Mori. Not that it’s a competition, but if it were, Reina would win. Born in Tokyo, Japan, with astounding naturalism capabilities, Reina instead attended the Osaka Institute of Magic and studied classics with a focus on mythology. For Reina alone the earth personally offers fruit, and to Reina alone nature speaks. It is worth noting, though, that in Reina’s opinion, she has other talents (See also: amplification—energy; combat experience—Nico de Varona).
NOVA, CALLUM
Callum Nova, of the South Africa–based Nova media conglomerate, is a manipulist whose powers extend to the metaphysical—that is, in layman’s terms, an empath. Born in Cape Town, South Africa, Callum studied very comfortably at the Hellenistic University of Magical Arts before joining the family business in the profitable sale of medeian beauty products and illusions. Only one person on earth knows for sure what Callum actually looks like. Unfortunately for Callum, that person wanted him dead. Unfortunately for Tristan, he did not want it badly enough (See also: betrayal, no fate so final as).
RHODES, ELIZABETH (may refer to RHODES, LIBBY)
Elizabeth “Libby” Rhodes is a gifted physicist. Born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, USA, Libby’s early life was marked by the loss of her older sister, Katherine. Libby attended the New York University of Magical Arts, where she met her rival-turned-ally Nicolás “Nico” de Varona and her erstwhile boyfriend, Ezra Fowler. As a Society recruit, Libby conducted several notable experiments (See also: time—fourth dimension; quantum theory—time; Tristan Caine) and moral quandaries (Parisa Kamali; Tristan Caine) before disappearing, initially presumed by the remainder of her cohort to be deceased. Libby’s current location is unknown (See also: Ezra Fowler).
FOR FURTHER READING
ALEXANDRIAN SOCIETY, THE
Archives—lost knowledge
Library (See also: Alexandria; Babylon; Carthage; ancient libraries—Islamic; ancient libraries—Asian)
Rituals—initiation (See also: magic—sacrifice; magic—death)
BLAKELY, ATLAS
Alexandrian Society, the (See also: Alexandrian Society—initiates; Alexandrian Society—Caretakers)
Early life—London, England
Telepathy
DRAKE, GIDEON
Abilities—unknown (See also: human mind—subconscious)
Creature—subspecies (See also: taxonomy—creature; species—unknown)
Criminal affiliations (See also: Eilif)
Early life—Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, Canada
Education—New York University of Magical Arts
Specialty—Traveler (See also: dream realms—navigation)
EILIF
Alliances—unknown
Children (See also: Gideon Drake)
Creature—finfolk (See also: taxonomy—creature; finfolk—mermaid)
ELLERY, DALTON
Alexandrian Society, the (See also: Alexandrian Society—initiates; Alexandrian Society—researchers)
Animation
Known affiliations (See also: Parisa Kamali)
FOWLER, EZRA
Abilities (See also: traveling—fourth dimension; physicist—quantum)
Alexandrian Society, the (See also: Alexandrian Society—uninitiated; Alexandrian Society—elimination)
Early life—Los Angeles, CA
Education—New York University for Magical Arts
Known alliances (See also: Atlas Blakely)
Previous employment (See also: NYUMA—resident advisors)
Personal relationships (See also: Libby Rhodes)
Specialty—Traveler (See also: time)
PRINCE, THE
Animation—general
Identity (See also: identity—unknown)
Known affiliations (See also: Ezra Fowler, Eilif)
THE ALEXANDRIAN SOCIETY FELLOWSHIP COURSE OF STUDY
YEAR ONE
Directives:
Candidates for initiation to the Alexandrian Society will rigorously contribute new and innovative research to the archives of knowledge herein. They will also protect and care for the archives throughout the duration of their residency, pending satisfactory completion of initiation terms.
Core Curriculum:
Space
Time
Thought
Intent
Further details of study to follow, pending terms of initiation.
Modules for first year study and completion of initiation requirements to conclude by 1 June.
YEAR TWO
Initiates will each contribute a treatise of significance to the archives, the topic of which is open to their choosing.
Independent Study Proposal:
Minimum requirements denoted with *
Research topic title*:______________________________________________________________
Aims:______________________________________________________________
Methodology (list any relevant texts):______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
Timetable:
Completion of Proposal: Indicate timeframe for any intended data collection, review, and/or analysis. To be delivered no later than 1 June.
Initiate signature:
Approved by:
Atlas Blakely
. BEGINNING .
Gideon Drake shaded his eyes from the red-burning sun and swept a glance across the scorched and blackened hills. Heat rippled in the air between particulate clouds of ash. Little moth wings of debris floated delicately across his limited vision. The smoke was thick, chalky enough to stick in his throat, and if any of it was real it would constitute a medical emergency on the spot.
But it wasn’t, so it didn’t.
Gideon glanced down at the black Lab beside him, frowning at him in contemplation, and then turned back to the unfamiliar scene, pulling his shirt above his mouth to manifest a thin veil of semi-breathable air.
“That’s very interesting,” Gideon murmured to himself.
In the dream realms these burnings happened from time to time. Gideon called them “erosions,” though if he ever met another of his kind, he wouldn’t be surprised to learn there was already a proper name. It was common enough, though almost never this
If Gideon had a philosophy, it was this: No sense despairing.
There was no telling what was real and what was not for Gideon Drake. His perception of dreamt wasteland might be a completely different scene to the dreamer. The burnings were a fine reminder of something Gideon had learned long ago: there is doom to be found everywhere if doom is what you seek.
“Well, come on then, Max,” Gideon said to the dog, who was coincidentally also his roommate. Max sniffed the air and whined in opposition as they headed west, but they both understood that dreams were Gideon’s domain, and therefore their path was ultimately Gideon’s decision.
Magically speaking, the dream realms were part of a collective subconscious. While every human had access to a corner of the realms, very few were able to traverse the realms of dreams as Gideon was.
To see where a person’s own consciousness ended and others’ began required a particular set of skills, and Gideon—who knew the shifting patterns of the realms the same way sailors know the tides—had even keener senses now that he rarely left their midst.
To the outside world, Gideon presented as a fairly normal person with narcolepsy. Understanding his magic, though, was not straightforward at all. As far as Gideon could gather, the line between conscious and subconscious was very thin for him. He could identify time and location within the dream realms, but his ability to walk through dreams occasionally prevented him from making it all the way through breakfast upright. Sometimes it seemed he belonged more to the realm of dreams than to the world of the living. Still, Gideon’s apparent somnambular flaw meant that he could make use of the limits others faced. A normal person could fly in a dream, for example, but they would know they were dreaming, and therefore be aware that they couldn’t actually fly in real life. Gideon Drake, on the other hand, could fly, period. Whether he happened to be awake or dreaming was the part he couldn’t always figure out.
Gideon wasn’t technically any more powerful than anyone else would be inside of a dream. His corporeal limitations were similar to those of telepathy—no magic performed in the dream realms could possibly harm him permanently, unless his physical form suffered something like a stroke or seizure. Gideon felt pain the same way another person might feel it in a dream—imagined, and then gone when they woke up. Unless he was under unusual amounts of stress that could then cause one of the above bodily reactions, that is … but that he never worried over. Only Nico worried about that sort of thing.
At the thought of Nico, Gideon suffered the usual twinge of something exposed, like having misplaced one shoe and carried on trudging without it. For the last year, he had trained himself (with varying degrees of success, depending on the day) to stop cataloguing the absence of his and Max’s usual companion. It had been difficult at first; the thought of Nico usually came back to him reflexively, like muscle memory, without preemption or forethought, and therefore with the unforeseen consequence of disrupting his intended route. Sometimes, when Gideon’s thoughts went to Nico, so did Gideon himself.
In the end, the pitfall and the providence of knowing Nico de Varona was that he could not be readily forgotten, nor easily parted from. Missing him was like missing a severed limb. Never quite complete and never whole, though on occasion the vestigial aches proved helpfully informative.
Gideon allowed himself to feel the things he tried (under other circumstances) not to, and like a sigh of relief, he felt the realms shift courteously beneath his feet. The nightmare gradually subsided, giving way to the atmosphere of Gideon’s own dreams, and so Gideon followed the path that came to him most easily: his own.
The smoke from the dream faded as Gideon’s mind wandered, and as such he and Max found themselves moving through conscious perception of time and space. In place of scorched earth, there was now the faint suggestion of microwavable popcorn and industrial-strength laundry detergent—unmistakable top notes of the NYUMA dorms.
And with it, the familiar face of a teenager Gideon once knew.
“I’m Nico,” said the wild-eyed, messy-haired boy whose T-shirt was inadvertently folded up on one side from the presence of his duffel bag. “You’re Gideon? You look exhausted,” he decided as an afterthought, tossing the bag below the second bed and glancing around the room, adding, “You know, we’d have a lot more room if we bunked these.”
Was this a memory, or a dream? It was hard for Gideon Drake to tell.
It was difficult to explain what exactly Nico had done to the air in the room, which Nico himself didn’t appear to have noticed. With mild claustrophobia, Gideon managed, “I’m not sure we’re allowed to move the furniture. I guess we could ask?”
“We could, but asking so diminishes our chances at a favorable outcome.” Nico paused, glancing at him. “What is that accent, by the way? French?”
“Sort of. Acadian.”
“Quebecois?”
“Close enough.”
Nico’s grin broadened. “Well, excellent,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to expand linguistically. I think too much in English now, I need something else. Never trust a dichotomy, I always say. Though on a relevant note, do you want top or bottom?” he asked, and Gideon blinked.
“You choose,” he managed, and Nico waved a hand, rearranging furniture so effortlessly that in the span of a breath, Gideon had already forgotten what the room looked like to begin with.
In real life, Gideon had learned very quickly that if there wasn’t space, Nico made some. If things sat still for too long, then Nico would inevitably disrupt them. The school administrators at NYUMA had felt the only necessary accommodation for Gideon’s presence was to label him “in need of disability services” and leave it at that, but given everything Gideon had observed about his new roommate within moments of meeting him, he was uneasily certain that it was only a matter of time before Nico found out the truth of him.
“Where do you go?” Nico had asked, proving Gideon right. “When you sleep, I mean.”
It was two weeks into the school year and Nico had climbed down from the top bunk, manifesting at Gideon’s side and startling him awake. Gideon hadn’t even known he was sleeping.
“I have narcolepsy,” he managed to say.
“Bullshit,” Nico replied.
Gideon had stared at him and thought, I can’t tell you. Not that he thought Nico was going to turn out to be some sort of creature hunter or someone planted in his room by his mother (although both were a distinct possibility), but there was always a moment when people started to look at him differently. Gideon hated that moment. The moment when others started to find something—many somethings—to reinforce their suspicions that Gideon was repulsive in some way. Instinctual knowledge; prey responding to a threat. Fight or flight.
I can’t tell anyone, Gideon had thought, but especially not you.
“There’s something weird about you,” Nico continued matter-of-factly. “Not bad-weird, just weird.” He folded his arms over his chest, considering it. “What’s your story?”
“I told you. Narcolepsy.”
Nico rolled his eyes. “Menteur.”
Liar. So he really was planning to learn French, then.
“What’s ‘shut up’ in Spanish?” a former version of Gideon had asked in real life, and Nico had given him a smile that Gideon would later learn was exceptionally dangerous.
“Get out of bed, Sandman,” Nico had said, tossing aside the covers. “We’re going out.”
Back in the present, Max nudged Gideon’s knee with his nose, just hard enough that Gideon had to stumble for balance. “Thanks,” he said, shaking himself free of the memory. The dorm room faded back into the erosion’s distantly blazing hillside as Max supplied him with an unblinking look of expectation.
