The Omen Machine

CHAPTER 72

When Richard had finished filling the bin with metal strips, he moved around to the other side, to where they came out. He didn’t think that it was necessary, but placed his hands on the machine anyway, just in case. Already internal shafts were spinning up to speed, levers clicking into place, and gears engaging. The machine’s emblem, rotating on the ceiling, brightened in lines of glowing orange light.

“Do you know who is responsible for the darkness that you say has come into you?” Richard said down at the machine. “Can you name the darkness?”

A strip pulled off the stack and made its way through the machine, passing over the focused beam of light that burned symbols in the language of Creation onto it. When Richard picked it out, all the symbol said was “Darkness.”

“That’s a big help,” Zedd muttered.

Richard ignored his grandfather and turned back to the machine. “Is darkness in you at the moment?”

Again the machine pulled a strip through.

“‘Darkness is not my purpose,’” Richard read from the strip.

Cara folded her arms. “It’s starting to sound like that oracle in a box giving us printed discs for answers.”

Richard ignored her as well. “Why are you doing this? Why are you speaking through these strips?”

When a strip came out, Richard read it aloud. “‘I am fulfilling my purpose, doing as I must.’”

“What is your purpose?” Richard asked immediately.

After the strip had passed through the machine and dropped in the bin, Richard noted that it was still cool. He looked at the symbols and then read the message aloud. “‘To fulfill my purpose.’”

Cara rolled her eyes. “No doubt about it, we have printed discs on our hands. Ask it if Ben really likes me. I’d like to hear what the spirits have to say.”

Richard ignored her taunt and tried a different line of questioning. “Who created you?”

The strip took a bit longer to pass under the light as the language of Creation burned a longer, more complex message into it. Finally, it dropped into the slot.

Richard held it up in the light to read it. “‘I was created by others. I had no choice in it.’”

Richard put a hand on the machine and leaned in toward it. “Why did these others create you?”

When the strip came out, Richard read it silently, then sighed in frustration before translating it for the others. “‘I was created to fulfill my purpose.’”

He tossed the strip on top of the machine. “Why does your purpose need to be fulfilled? Why is it important?”

The machine slowed to a stop.

In the silence, they all shared looks.

Richard thought that the conversation had ended, but then the gears started turning again, slowly at first, until it eventually built up to full speed. A tab on the wheel under the strips popped up and pushed out one from the stack of blanks, where it was grabbed by pincers on another wheel and pulled through the mechanism. Richard looked in through the window and saw the strip moving over the light to be inscribed. When it dropped into the slot he pulled the cool strip out and held it up in the light of the proximity spheres.

“‘Because prophecy cannot always be trusted.’”

“That’s true enough,” Zedd muttered unhappily.

Richard glanced at Zedd, then asked another question. “What do you mean, prophecy can’t be trusted? Why not?”

The machine pulled another strip from the stack. When it made its way through and dropped into the slot, Richard was waiting for it. He read it to the others.

“‘Prophecy grows old and corrupted over time.’”

Richard’s arm lowered. “But you are the one giving prophecy.”

Another strip ran through the machine and dropped into the slot.

“‘I am fulfilling my purpose, doing as I must. You must fulfill your purpose.’” Richard frowned at the machine. “My purpose? What is my purpose in all this?”

Everyone gathered closer as they waited for the next strip. Richard snatched it up when it finally dropped in the slot.

“It says, ‘To fulfill my purpose.’” Richard raked his fingers back through his hair as he walked a short distance away. “My purpose is to fulfill your purpose, which is to fulfill your purpose? That makes no sense. This is pointless. We’re just going around in circles.”

The machine slowly spun down.

“Tell me something I can use!” Richard yelled as he turned back to Regula. “Tell me how to protect Kahlan from the hounds that you said will take her from me!”

The machine did not answer.

After a long, dragging silence, Nicci laid a comforting hand on the back of his shoulder. “We all need to get some rest, Richard. This is getting us nowhere. We can revisit it later. You should get back up to Kahlan. That’s the best way to make sure that the prophecy doesn’t come true.”

Richard heaved a sigh of frustration. “You’re right.”

He didn’t know if the machine’s real purpose was to give prophecy, or if it had been created to do something else. They still had no idea who had created it, why it had been buried and forgotten, or even why it had so abruptly awakened from its dreams. He wasn’t even sure if he was convinced that someone could actually direct it. As confusing as the things it said were, he was beginning to wonder if darkness had really taken it over in the first place. He was beginning to think that it was just the machine being perverse. No wonder they had buried it. It was useless.

Zedd patted Richard on the back. “You’re the Seeker. I’m sure you will think of something, my boy.”

Richard turned away from the machine. “We’re not going to find the answers we need tonight. Like Nicci says, we all need to get some rest.”

Richard wasn’t through asking questions of the machine, but it was late, and he wanted to get back to Kahlan. He knew that after he’d slept on it, he would have more questions. Maybe if he could ask them in the right way he would be able to begin to understand why the machine had been created in the first place and what its real purpose was. But those questions would have to wait.

As they all headed for the stairs, the machine began to rumble into activity again. As they turned back and stared, it gradually came up to full speed. A strip was pulled off the bottom of the stack and through the inner workings.

Richard watched it drop into the slot. He was reluctant to bother to pick this one up and read it. He was tired of the game. He didn’t want to play along anymore. He thought that maybe he should leave the strip sitting in the machine until morning.

Before Richard could leave, Zedd pulled the metal strip out, glanced at the symbols, and then handed it to Richard. “It’s cool. What does it say?”

Richard reluctantly took the strip from Zedd and held it up in the light to read the circular symbols.

“‘Your only chance is to let the truth escape.’”

“What in the world could that mean?” Cara asked.

Richard clenched the strip in his fist. “It’s some kind of riddle. I hate riddles.”