Page 52 of Destroyer

“Yes,” said Ru, unable to look away from the lectern, from Professor Obralle as she stepped aside, giving the floor to the first academic in line. “I just need a minute to…” she trailed off, distracted.

Academic after academic went up to speak, so confident in their ideas, their plans. Ru barely listened after the first one, unable to focus in the face of her anxiety.

“Well?” said Archie, nudging her shoulder with his. “You’ve got to, you know, actually go up there.”

Against the core of her nature, which begged her to stay in her seat and hide from the inevitable derision, Ru stood. The lectern seemed miles away as she shuffled awkwardly through milling academics until she came to the end of the line. She stood there hunched, arms crossed, hoping nobody would notice her.

Meanwhile, the academic currently on the podium was going on about numbers and weighing safety against potential danger. “If you look at the statistics regarding explosive items, whether they be contained chemical concoctions or crude bombs meant for warfare, we must acknowledge that—”

“Yes, thank you,” said Professor Obralle, edging sideways to place her hand over the speaking horn. “Your minute is up, Westley. Back to your seat, please. And— ah, I see Delara has finally joined the queue! All of you, out of the way. Delara, come up.”

There was an outcry of protest at this, and Ru’s face burned as she shook her head frantically.

“Don’t be silly, you ought to have been first in line,” said Obralle. “You have firsthand experience with the artifact. How do you think we should study it?” She handed the lectern over to Ru, who made her way there in a haze.

“Go on,” said Obralle so that only Ru could hear, patting her gently on the shoulder.

This gesture was received with a few derisive snorts from the academics who stood in line, loudly offended that Ru had been given precedence.

Already sweating in her too-hot dress, Ru cleared her throat. The sound echoed throughout the room, and she was certain, at that moment, that literally anything in the world would be better than standing up there.

As she opened her mouth to speak, a new sensation took hold of her. It started in her chest and spread outward, subtly but definitely there — a calming warmth, like honeyed tea drifting through her veins. It was the artifact, no longer humming quietly in the background of her mind as it usually did, but making itself known. As if it knew she needed soothing.

“Um,” she said into the speaking horn, distracted by the artifact but no longer shaking with anxiety. She caught Gwyneth’s eye in the crowd, her friend nodding encouragement. It was the push she needed.

“Ruellian Delara,” she said, her voice quiet, even through the horn. “Fourth year, Archaeology. As you know, I was… present at… at the site. Where the artifact was uncovered. I believe, and have accepted, that I should have died at the time.”

The hall filled with sudden anticipatory silence. Each academic, despite the muttering and shouting out earlier, was now at the edge of their seat. Ru didn’t know what to do with this sudden attention. She had expected jeering, or catcalls, but not this.

“I should have,” she continued, “but I didn’t. Instead, I woke up blind with a stone in my hands. And everyone around me, the dig site…” she took a breath. “Well, you all know what happened. I wasn't lucky or blessed. I still don't know what happened, exactly. But… I’ve come to accept that I am intrinsic to the study of the artifact, and vice versa. The regent sent me here with the artifact under orders to discover the nature of it, and to answer two questions.”

Every time she spoke about the dig site, she thought of Lady Maryn. Panic threatened to choke her. But as her throat constricted with it, she focused on the artifact's touch. Its steady, humming voice against her nerves.

With a steady voice, she said, “I ask the same questions as all of you no doubt, the same questions as the regent: Did the artifact cause the dig site's destruction? And if so, why did it spare me? We can’t begin to study the nature of the thing without answering these questions.”

Some of her peers nodded, while others furrowed their brows thoughtfully. Some still frowned and whispered behind their hands.

“I believe I’m the best person to do that,” she finished. There was a faint smattering of applause, mostly from Archie and Gwyneth.

Obralle appeared again on the podium, leaning over to reach the speaking horn while Ru moved out of her way.

“A moving and convincing argument,” she said. “May I speak on behalf of everyone here when I ask, Miss Delara, what might be the nature of your hypothesis?”

Ru froze. “Hypothesis?”

“Yes. Everyone who speaks must post a thesis statement, a conjecture as to what you believe the artifact to be and how you will come to the same conclusion via the scientific method.”

I know what a hypothesis is, thought Ru, her brain scrambling to come up with something. But she had no choice — there was only one hypothesis she believed, one possibility that explained the stone and its detonation, the inexplicable way in which it had spared Ru.

“Ah yes, I forgot,” she said into the speaking horn, sweat beading on her upper lip. “My hypothesis.”

She caught Archie’s eye for a moment, then Gwyneth’s, both of them smiling encouragingly.

“My hypothesis,” she said again, slightly more confidently this time, “is as follows. The artifact was present during what I believe to be a particle-level explosion, and remains intact. I, too, remain intact. Therefore, if the artifact is an explosive device, then it must be selective in nature. Discerning. Calculating.”

“Are you saying it’salive?” said one of the academics in line for the lectern. It was Grey Adler, smirking.

Ru gave him a pitying look. “If that’s what you think I said, then I apologize for not simplifying my words.”

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