“Now . . . does that tell you why caution is necessary in every imager action?”
“Yes, sir.” It also told me that Floryn’s greatest failing was telling anyone anything.
“What else should it tell you?”
What else could there be? “There can’t be very many in the rest of the world, either.”
“Why not?”
I’d had a moment to think. “If there were, we’d know about it. The Collegium seeks out imagers. If you can only find five hundred in Solidar, and we have more people than other countries . . .”
“You’re making several assumptions. What are they, and are they correct?”
“It would be hard to hide imagers in other lands, but if you could find out so much about me, how could they hide imagers from you?”
“That assumes we would be allowed to look. While places like the Abierto Isles are open enough, and so is Stakanar, Ferrum and Jariola don’t like snoopy outsiders and have rather unpleasant habits of making them disappear. The Tiemprans ban imaging and imagers, and the same is true of Caenen. You’re also making assumptions about people. What are they?”
“Oh . . . that people are the same everywhere.”
“Are they? If they are, what makes them that way?”
“Sir . . . I know I haven’t traveled far, but I have seen people who have come from many places, and they all seem to love or hate, or want to be better . . . and I think we’re all born with similar general abilities and wants.”
“Is imaging something people are born with, or something learned?”
I was definitely unsure what Master Dichartyn sought . . . or why. “I don’t know, sir, but I would say it’s something people are either born with or not, but that they have to learn whether they have it and how to use that ability.” I paused. “Does it have anything to do with . . . I mean there seem to be more men who are imagers.”
“That’s true, and women imagers almost always come from families where an older brother has the talent. Why that’s so, we don’t know, but there are traits that work that way. Very few women are bald, compared to men. But . . . back to the question at hand. If the imaging skill can arise in any people, why are there more practicing imagers in Solidar than in the rest of the world? If you can tell me that, it will provide the rest of the answer to the first question I asked and that you did not answer completely.”
I had to think for several moments. Exactly what had I failed to answer?
“I’ll give you a hint. Why are most bulls gelded and why is the Cyella Ruby valuable?”
After a moment, I answered. “Imagers are scarce but more plentiful in Solidar because we provide valuable and rare services and people are more willing to have imagers around so long as there aren’t too many of us?”
Master Dichartyn nodded. “We have created an institution that not only fulfills needs, but also has established a reputation for being trustworthy in carrying out those duties for Solidar and for the Council. Without unique services, we have no value, and without trust, our value cannot be relied upon. And if there were too many of us, then no one would trust us. Because the Oligarch of Jariola can trust no one, what we do is either not done there, or done in a more costly fashion, and any imager is either executed or exiled. In Ferrum, they use machines and exile imagers because they cannot quantify how to value trust.”
Abruptly, he looked up. “We have not gone over your philosophy readings, but I need to meet with the other masters.” He paused. “The Puryon believers of Tiempre have faith in an omnipotent, beneficent, and just god. Write me a logical proof of why this is either so or why it cannot be so. Have it ready for me in the morning. That should provide some practical application of what you’ve been studying.”
“Yes, sir.” How was I going to prove that logically? And why was a philosophical proof a practical application?
“We’ll meet outside the dining hall after lunch today, and I’ll take you to your work assignment from there.” He stood.
So did I, scooping up the unopened books and hurrying out of his study before him.
I had almost two and a half glasses before lunch, but, as I crossed the quadrangle under the first truly warm sunlight in days, I had no idea how I was going to prove or disprove the statement Master Dichartyn had given me.
“Where are you going so early?” called Johanyr from the stone walk intersecting the one where I walked. He was also a secondus, about my age, I thought, with short-cut curly brown hair and massively broad shoulders, as if he were better suited to be a stonemason or the like. We’d talked briefly over meals, and I had the feeling I’d seen him somewhere before, but I couldn’t recall where.
“Master Dichartyn had a meeting with the other masters, but he gave me a logical proof to figure out, and I have to have it all written out by tomorrow.”
“Some of the seconds are asking if you’re trying to make third before summer and master in a year.” He laughed, but the sound was hard. “You don’t spend much time with the others, except at meals.”
What he was saying was a warning . . . of some sort. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be standoffish.” I gestured toward a bench some five yards away. “Do you have a moment?”
“More than that. I didn’t even get to see Master Ghaend this morning. They’re all upset about something.” He tilted his head, looking at me speculatively. “Master Dichartyn is the only other Maitre D’Esprit besides Master Poincaryt. Did he say anything to you . . . anything at all?”
“He never does,” I answered as we walked slowly toward the gray granite bench. “He just asks question after question. This morning, he stopped in the middle of a question and said he had a meeting with the other masters, then told me my assignment and just about threw me out.” That wasn’t quite true, but I doubted anyone could have mistaken his abruptness.
“So he was worried?”
“I think so. He’s never been quite that abrupt before.” I stopped by the bench, gesturing. “We might as well sit down.”
“Might as well. You were saying . . .?”
“I don’t talk about it much, but I was a journeyman portraiturist. I was even getting my own commissions, and I was thinking it wouldn’t be too long before I could become a master, a junior master, and open my own studio. Then I imaged a little part of a portrait, just a little part, except it was green, and one thing led to another . . . and the girl I was interested in married my brother, and, all of a sudden, I can’t be anything but an imager.”
“Green? Why green?”
“Green pigment, true green, is almost as expensive as liquid silver. They don’t let journeymen use it often, and only when a master is watching, and I wasn’t a master yet.”
“You were close to being a master portraiturist?” Johanyr’s face softened slightly, but still bore a trace of incredulity.
“Several masters said I was good enough. I’d spent five years as an apprentice, and three as a journeyman.” I shrugged. “I don’t mean to be standoffish, but the change has taken some getting used to. When I started as a prime, I was five or six years older than most of the others. We didn’t talk about the same things.”
“I can see that.” He nodded.
“I’m just trying as hard as I can just to catch up. There’s so much I still don’t know.”
“Sarcovyt says that you’re good at imaging things.”
I managed a laugh. “How would I know? I know I’m good enough to be a second, but since I made second, I’ve never seen anyone else image anything. Before that, I never saw anyone but a prime even try. Master Dichartyn says that’s for my own protection.”
“It sounds like he’s trying to get you caught up with where the rest of us are.”
What Johanyr said made sense. “That’s what I’m guessing. I really don’t mean to be unfriendly . . . it’s just been hard.” That much was certainly true.
“None of us knew,” he pointed out.
I tried to look embarrassed. “It’s not something . . .” I shrugged. “It’s my fault, but . . .”