"Lucien, you must stop this at once," Toren said from just inside the doorway. The massive machinery between he and Lucien made it hard to hear, but the scientist knew what he'd said. He ignored Toren, and continued to examine dials and make small adjustments with a tool. "Lucien! Vasalo, what you're doing is--"

"What I am doing," Lucien said, putting his tool down and looking with hard, icy-blue eyes toward the Master of Incarnate studies, "is my business and not your department's worry." Lucien pulled off his goggles, shiny, well polished leather and gleaming brass fittings catching the artificial light which came through several wide portals in the ceiling. "I would say that you shouldn't even be in this portion of the laboratory, but since you've come this far to pester me, I'll ask that you not do so again."

"You- you can't forbid entry to another professor, Vasalo," Toren growled, "least of all another Master!"

"I can forbid whomever trespasses on my territory, when it endangers anyone - and that includes yourself, Master Toren. You don't know what you're even worried about." Lucien waved his fingers at the machinery, "tell me, what about my device is it this time? You can say, 'it makes too much noise', yes, yes I'm working on that. You can say, 'it disturbs the aether' and I can reply that is what it is meant to do."

"And the gods? You mean to distrub them?" Toren spat, "for that is what you're doing. Their work is not to be trifled with!"

"Ah, so you seriously believe that my engine is disturbing the faint echoes of distant gods?" Lucien said, carefully. He watched Toren's expressions, his body language. It was clear that the Incarnates professor was put off by the dismissal. But then, the Incarnates professor didn't seem to realize how angry he'd made Lucien in the first place, not just by his words, but by entering his private lab without permission. Lucien's body was tense, his back straight, his eyes narrow.

To any more observant person in the room - and there were two - it looked like Toren should have gotten out of there and sent a letter of apology from some distant island to compensate. But Toren was as single-minded as they came, focused on his own needs, and didn't see any of the anger.

Of course, without knowing either man, one would see merely two stiffly competitive men wearing emotional masks tossing roundabout insults. The two graduate students continued to work, but were sufficiently distracted that eventually they stopped, waiting for their Master to bid them continue instead. Toren complained bitterly that the Gods were the realm of souls, and these machines that Lucien was creating, were tampering with souls.

"I assure you, Toren, I don't trifle with souls for my work. My engine places a fine coating of living metal upon a piece of flesh - how is that the realm of souls?"

"You just said it yourself, it's living metal, is that not the realm of --"

"Human souls are the realm of the gods, not slices of cells infused with chemicals!" Lucien spat, quietly - it sent shivers up the graduate students' spines, and it made Toren more wary. "I think you have made the mistake of presuming to know my business better than myself, Toren, and that is an error you should not make again." Lucien Vasalo drew in a careful, measured breath, "I know where my realm ends and yours begins. Do not presume to speak for the Gods until you've ascended into the heavens and proclaimed yourself among them. Now get out of my laboratory, and keep yourself occupied with your own concerns, as I have work to do here."

Clearly offended, but clearly out of his league, Master Toren turned on his heel and made a show of leaving, not bothering to shut the door behind him. One of the students shut it, after a moment. His hand rested uncomfortably on the long handle, when he asked, "should we continue work today, sir?"

Lucien was measuring his breath still - literally, mentally counting down to avoid making the mistake of yelling at those who didn't deserve it. When finally calmness came to him, he turned to the pair. One was a girl, the other a young man, and he nodded. "If you wish. I don't know that I'm prepared to help out at this moment."

"I'll get some tea," the girl said, darting away before Lucien could protest. She was more simple than the boy, but was strong with her hands, and clearly had a good grasp on mechanical engineering. The young man occasionally fumbled for the right words to write or speak, and on occasion blurted out exactly the wrong thing in moments of emotion, but was genius with numbers and calculations. Together they'd created a device which took melted metal and fused it with tissues, in order to assemble armor which was more effective at protecting certain parts of people than currently available. Durable but lightweight, it looked and felt like leather, but had a sheen to it like dulled steel.

Was it magic, technology, or more? It was no miracle, no godling interfered with this process either way, and thus Lucien was positive that he was not in fact tampering with anything out of his realm. Certainly there was a drop of magic here and there - no weird spells or incantations, but numerical and chemical ones - alchemy perhaps a better term for it.

Dayna appeared with a tray of tea and sugar, and the trio sat down to survey their day's progress before the interruption. "You've gotten more work on the hem stitcher done?" Lucien asked, and Dayna nodded. "Good, good. Maurel, it works without stalling, I noted. Good work. I think we can call today a success and head out."

"Sir, if I ... Master Toren will not stop here," Maurel stated, haltingly like the machine used to hiccup. Lucien's eyes closed, opening only to gaze heavily lidded upon his tea cup resting on his knee.

"I know that, you're right. I could go to the Dean's office and try sorting it out, but I fear I would run into him again already in the process."

The fact that the two colleges, physical and spiritual, were often at odds was known - any university had those rivalries. But it wasn't a college-wide thing, many students crossed between and had Majors in both, and some of those students often wondered why all the hooplah - when everything in the real world combined the Trinity perfectly well. Why not here?

Because instruction on such things was a dedicated, singular task, perhaps. Because in order to become truly passionate enough to Master in a subject, one must almost abandon the other disciplines. At least, in the Masters' time. Today, Lucien looked about and saw magic and miracles, miracles and machinery... All but his repellant opposite - Toren was a purist. He did honestly seem to think that the world would be a better place without either magic or machinery to aid the human progression.

But most people disagreed with that view, at least, and for that Lucien was glad. He would have to petition hard among the befectors of the University to do anything serious.

Then again, Master Toren was far more wealthy than most others among his ranks. Inherited wealth, wealth dominated by the priesthood's lack of taxes.

Lost in thought, Lucien was brought back to the afternoon's work, by the clinking of Dayna's cup against the tray, and her gently removing his own empty cup from his hand.

"Will you be all right, sir?" She asked, and Lucien nodded. "Then we're headed to dinner. See you in the morning, sir." She gave a little bow, and took the tray off to the dumb waiter's box, where it was pulled off to the inner workings of the building to be cleaned. Lucien watched the cords, he'd cut open the wall in places just to watch it.

The cords were mechanical, the pullies just physics in motion. But... the motion was summoned by magic. Mind over matter, miracle over mind. Matter ... Never seemed to get a good break there. That old saying rankled people like him, Lucien knew that the human race had started out digging in the dirt, and would likely end that way. They developed miracles first, because the gods roamed more freely a thousand years ago. Encouraging certain paths and abandoning others. Lucien walked out of his lab, locking it behind him, and headed to his home while still pondering these things. There had been other foundations - demonology somewhere between miracle and magic, alchemy itself was somewhere between physics and magic. But over time, those 'inbetweens' had largely been taken over by their dominant type. Mostly, the miracle side. It was a lopsided triangle. It used to be more a six-sided-star, Lucien thought.

He was comfortable being an alchemist, he knew and acknowledged the gods and their value - but he didn't compromise his studies because of them. And he felt, securely, that if the gods were that mistrustful of his work, they would do something about it. Why wouldn't they?

Well for one thing, he thought to himself while fixing the last of yesterday's stew and potatoes, the gods didn't roam as widely, nor as visibly, as they once had. There were a few that did stand out, but by and large reports of the gods walking the earth were dwindling.

Why then, had their power continued to rise in the University? Would they cease walking the earth and eventually allow this power to wane? And which would win then, magic or mechanics?

Lucien wrote at length about this, in his journal. It too was of his own devising, a machine which took spoken word and transcribed it quickly with small imprinted keys onto paper. The paper had to be enfused with ink particles, some clever alchemist had made that advancement years before. One could simply take a piece of it, and scribble with any handy item (a finger nail would do) and writing would appear. There were complimentary 'anti-ink' papers which could then be used to remove any mistakes, too - very clever, very clever Lucien clucked to himself as he wiped a few of his own grammatical errors and made minor corrections to his finished journal piece.

He wasn't in a perfectly relaxed mood, but he was exhausted from the day's work, and got to sleep quickly enough.

***

He should have lost sleep.

Lucien met his students the next morning, early as they always did, but before they even got to the lab, Lucien knew there was something wrong. There were voices down the hall, one laughing, several just muttering, and at least one raised a bit in worry.

"Dame Rhyinden, please settle yourself, this is an official matter, and it does not--"

"It concerns my department's head Master and therefore concerns me, and this should have been brought to my attention long before--"

"--old windbag never learned to--" "hardly anyone else's business, why muss everything up like this?" "it's only eight in the morning why all the fuss, can't it wait  until later?"

Everything ceased the moment that Lucien and his students rounded the final corner of the twisty, tall-ceilinged hall. The inner entrance to the laboratory was two doors, dark red wood, with no windows on them, but filigree and a plaque on the right-hand one which said to open the left hand door instead. There was another, much larger, roll-up door on the outer wall, where large machinery could be fit through. That was rarely used, however it would have to, if this current device inside was to be ...

"Well, well, finally arrived, eh?" Toren said, slipping around one of the other department heads. Rhyinden stiffened next to him, turned her grey-haired head and sneered directly at the younger man. "You've crossed enough lines, you're done here."

"He is far from done," the Dame announced, finding her voice still a bit squeaky with anger. "You had no right to do this, young man, no right at all."

"I have all the rights I need," Toren said slyly, "and you might want to watch your tone around me, Rhy, everyone knows what you hid in your classroom several years ago."

The woman's eyes widened and then shot down to slits, "I hid nothing in any class - what preposterous nonsense are you spewing boy?"

"The same kind of nonsense that seems to have put mister Vasalo out of a job, Dame," Toren said. He seemed too confident with himself, much too pleased, and soemthing more, something that Lucien couldn't identify.

Lucien licked his teeth, under his tight lips. "So, who did you have to buy to get this done, Toren?" When the Incarnation master started to huff, Lucien shook his hand as well as his head, "no, no don't even bother trying to deny that - we all know you're from too much money. Obviously it can buy whatever you need it to do. So who is it, that we can petition them instead. Since you obviously would be allowed to walk away from any legal procedings."

He heard someone mutter he gets right to the point, doesn't he, and Lucien didn't blink at that. He did get to the point. There was no reason not to, obviously.

"This is not over," Dame Rhyinden said, flatly. She turned to Lucien. "Apparently this whelp believes that he can undermine the centuries of regulations we all abide by, here at this institution. However, he did not consult with the proper authorities to do anything of this sort," she waved a liver-spotted hand at the chained-shut doors, "and as such he will be submitted to the regional authorities for a subversion inquiry."

That seemed to surprise Toren, but he was shut up immediately by the others in the hallway congratulating the Dame on the decision. She turned to the young Master who stood angrily beside her, "if I was ten years younger, I would drag you by your ear to the offices myself, you petulant little overstuffed rich boy. But as it is, my arthritis would get in the way. Now, stand aside from the professor and unlock those doors. He must retrieve his things."

"He must do nothing," Toren spat. Lucien remained remarkably calm through this bickering. It was politics, not anything more. And he tended to stay away from such discussions - especially given his propensity to speak honestly. If there was one thing he always knew about political discussion, it was that the closer to the truth one spoke, the more likely one was to be kicked from the discussion. "He must exit the premises immediately, as per the decree."

"That decree is worthless without every department head's signature," said one other man, one of the Magic Masters who held a class nearby and obviously overheard the commotion. "If this happened as quickly as I suspect it did, you've not gotten even one signature properly on it, and particularly no witnesses to the process being a fair one. This is not how things are done around here, Toren, and no amount of money will dissuade this institution from being fair. Now get yourself away from the Master's door and have those chains off. And I'd remind you I am capable of seconding the Dame's proposal of an inquiry about your actions here, and with these men and women as my witnesses," he broadly indicated the dozen people in the now-cramped hall corner, "I am doing so."

"Well." Toren said, darkly, but his eyes were downcast and he pretended defeat, "it appears you have friends yet on the roster, Lucien. This isn't over here, you know that."

"I know that all too well, Toren, but mind your tongue. You may wish to withhold any further incriminating prattle, I'm sure at least one or two of those present will be on your inquiry board." Lucien said, and waited for them to remove the lock on the doors. He slipped by, his students darting in like frightened mice. Dayna noticed her Master's hands were trembling gently, and she scurried off to get tea. There was apparently nothing in the world that couldn't be solved by a bit of her tea.

Probably because she must add some magic to it, of course, but that was beside the point. It was the act that made it worthwhile, to Lucien. What made her admirable as a person, if not as a student.

"The nerve of that little--" Dame Rhyinden's pent-up anger crept into her high voice, "I swear I knew nothing was happening here, Lucien," she was going to rattle on, but Lucien held his hand up and offered her tea instead.

"Dayna makes wonderful tea, Dame, why not just join us here, and ... we'll talk about what I will do next."

That seemed to satisfy her, though there were still people outside the doors who genuinely wanted to enter and make whatever statements they had on their minds, but to enter Lucien's lab was to provoke him, and why bother doing that, when he was just accosted? They eventually drifted away, and Rhyinden tried to calm her own nerves. If anything, she was a bit too old and flighty to be the head of this department, but she was still one of the brightest minds of her era - any era - and had the accomplishments to prove it.

That 'hidden' item in her classroom? A person-shaped animation, a flesh-golem if it could be described, which came to life when people neared it and gave instructions for directions.

The Incarnations department had had a field day with it, but again, there was no inquiry because there was no obvious law-breaking. It was growing more likely, Lucien and she discussed over tea while the students tried their hardest to merely finish up whatever work on the machine that they could without botching it, that Toren would attempt to broaden the definitions of those laws. Attempting to do so was something others had tried in the past, to minor success. Again, Lucien wondered, and this time with others present, how if the Gods were themselves becoming more and more scarce, their powers over people's behaviors and laws was growing steadily.

***

The Inquiry went poorly. It was expected, of course, but no one realized how much of Toren's money was poured into this venture. The only bit of truly bad luck which changed things significantly for both sides, was that an outside source for judgement, someone from another kingdom's University system, was unable to attend and give his testimony as to the value of the Trinity piece by piece. If he'd been able to attend, of course, things might have been swayed toward the Mechanic Master. But as it was, enough of the staff was intimidated by the threatening glances, the clearly worded warnings sent on parchment bearing official Church letterhead, and plain old bullying tactics, that those supporters who Lucien knew believed in him didn't show up. Oh to be sure, they sent him letters of apology, afterwards, but they knew that this guilt was on their shoulders alone. Lucien and his students, the Dame, and one other staff Master came to the hearings and that was not enough to sway the judgement.

Of course, even if several more Masters had come, it would have only taken a landslide of money to change the outcome. Lucien instructed the students to find whatever they could that was theirs, before the lab was closed - this, right after the hearing ended. They scampered off, knowing that if they were too late, they might find the whole place vacant.

Lucien stood before Toren, before everyone left the hall of justice. A pregnant pause from everyone around them, some expected Lucien to strike the young Master, but he did nothing of the sort. Instead he said, "I hope they name a wing of the University after you, that's usually what that amount of money buys in this city. And no, Toren," Lucien gripped Toren's arm tightly and without moving his steely-ice colored eyes from the other man's, "this is not over. You just won't see the end coming, when it does."

He turned on his booted heel, and strode away, not looking hurried, but internally quite agitated. Would he even be allowed to enter the building? He hadn't been fired, nor had Toren. But Toren's wording of what constituted a lapse of law had been eagerly gobbled up by the greedy judges. They accepted the Dame's counter point however, that Toren had far exceeded his range in having jumped to his own abrupt carrying-out of locking someone else's doors. Only to that end, therefore, was Lucien "allowed" to take a sabbatical. Instead of being outright fired, or exiled, or any number of other judgements.

As it was, the Dame was going to retire shortly - because of this, but only indirectly. She'd realized during the three-week long process that she was indeed too old for this, and her successor would have been Lucien. However, that was not to be. She chose instead a man who had appeared a few years after Lucien, wasn't as bright, but was wealthy enough - and honest enough - that she trusted him to the post without flinching. Lucien wasn't too happy about it, but no other volunteers stepped up, certainly out of guilt for having been badgered into silence in the first place.

Maurel and Dayna held their tongues as Lucien picked through the office and lab; they had hoped he would remain close by. But instead, he'd chosen to literally take a walk, put his papers and home in order, and leave the country for a while. He claimed it would possibly clear his head of the messy thoughts that were running through it. The one thing that both students did know for certain, was that their Master was not running away from this, he was walking about to distract himself. Possibly from doing things he might regret. He would never outright stoop to any underhanded things, they knew that on the surface, but everyone had a bit of darkness in them, didn't they?

They'd seen how his temper could be broken, that he could yell and even threaten. But both Dayna and Maurel knew in their hearts that he would never strike an innocent person, he'd never accuse someone of something they hadn't done, he would never lie to forward himself. He would use tactics against those who deserved it, he would go along with a lie just long enough to entrap the perpetrator. They'd seen that, there used to be a third student, but he fell prey to his own lies and thievery.

"But where are you going?" Dayna asked, almost pleading with her eyes for him to remain. "And walking? You've a cart haven't you?"

"I have, but I think I should simply walk," Lucien said. "And as to where, well first I think I shall pay a visit to my colleague in distant Frellhall. I wonder why he didn't come to the inquiry hearing." He darkened his expression, but his mood was actually lighter now. "I do not hold much with coincidence, not with things of this nature and importance. After all it was more than a week between the accusations and the inquiry. In that time, anyone might 'fall ill' due to outside influences of some kind."

Both students went wide-eyed at that, he was insinuating that someone had purposefully hurt another professor to avoid them testifying? It was done in courts, but... never to someone they'd known. It made perfect sense, but they had no way of proving it, unless he did go and find out. So they bade their instructor fare well, and went to learn their own fates - their studies would continue, but their work would probably be ignored, at least until Lucien came back. But they had time. They would want to bide it until then, too, because everyone in the department was walking on glass from that moment on.