The universe is populated and many worlds are far-flung,
forgotten. Until the day Gabryl, a man both alive and dead, his body reposing
in a sarcophagus, his spirit roaming as a shifting being, bellows a call to
arms. Eurue, as world and civilisation, after ages of isolation, will now step
into the ultimate arena.
Who is the true enemy?
Meanwhile, as the spaces become frantic, a woman in a turret somewhere, elsewhere, plans her revenge. The schism between what went before and the reality of the present presents to her the power to control the fate of all.
Who will stop her?
CHAPTER 10
Old
books are a treasure.
Old
books are also outdated.
~ Tattle ~
Titania’s Library
TITANIA hosted the largest and most comprehensive collection of knowledge in the universe. The library claimed to have at least one copy of everything. The world itself was a strange one, filled with sponges, its atmosphere somewhat metallic, the heavens in hues from saffron to sickly green, but the library was state-of-the-art modernity. As time moved on, so did the monumental building refurbish, especially regarding technology and vehicles.
Tiny electric smart cars fetched patrons from
the entrance to whoosh them off to the required destination. The floor expanse
was astronomical; to walk to a particular shelf for a particular book could
literally take a week. Apparently, not so long ago, the library’s authorities
tested hovercraft amid the aisles, but that led to accidents, shelves toppled
into chaos, and thereafter the smart cars returned. Grounded, they caused less
mayhem.
Chaim and Jimini entered via the sliding doors
and found long lines already in place. Light filtered through the creepers
adorning the massive conservatory-like antechamber. Fifty men and women of
various ages, cultures and races manned stations at a long glass counter -
therefore the lines. To find something in this library meant asking for help.
Evidently, the database here was the largest in the universe as well. Jimini
groaned.
“Patience is a virtue, my dear,” Chaim
murmured, steering her to a line at random.
She bit back a retort.
A young security guard approached to touch
Chaim on his shoulder. “Sir?”
“How may I help you, young man?”
“Sir, you are Chaim of the Kaval?”
“I am, and this is Jimini of the Kaval.”
“Welcome to Titania,” the young man smiled,
and returned his attention to Chaim. “I have been instructed to escort you to a
facility on the second level. Someone waits to meet you.”
“May I enquire as to his or her name?”
“I am not at liberty to say.”
The young man appeared apologetic, but Jimini
knew from previous experience that security here was no laughing matter. They
would be ousted from these precincts unless they complied. As Kaval they would
be allowed back in, with apologies, but the ousting would come first.
“Lead the way,” she murmured.
“I have no instructions regarding your person,
unfortunately.”
“Jimini is with me,” Chaim stated.
“Bloody ask your mystery man,” she snapped.
The young man nodded, and touched his ear.
Clearly, then, the mystery was in the shape of a man, not a woman. Soon, the
guard simply turned on his heel, beckoning them to follow. They did, glancing
worriedly at each other.
An elevator whisked them up to the second
floor. Here professors, teachers, researchers, scientists, philosophers,
writers, and many others paid for time at secluded nooks to do their research
and work in silence. Most desks were occupied; the space rustled as if rippling
through a sea of rasping parchment. To the left, ornate doors were spaced into
infinitum. These were the private offices of resident experts, and also
conference facilities. A fair number were rented out to wealthy clients, while
some were for interviewing potential donors … or criminals. According to
Galarth and Shenendo, regular visitors to Titania, despite the level of
security at the complex, theft happened. Some of the works in these hallowed
halls were worth a fortune and unscrupulous collectors were prepared to pay.
The guard led them to a single door at least a
sal from the elevator bank. Silent as the smart cars were, they were not
permitted on this level. Jimini’s feet ached by the time the guard halted to
knock on the door, and she wondered how poor Chaim felt.
“Enter.”
The young man opened the door, stood aside
gesturing significantly, and closed the door the instant they had entered,
leaving them with their mystery man.
He smiled as he rose from behind a dark-wood
desk. Tall, with long dark hair, cold blue eyes, and a strangely moth-bitten
frock.
“It’s him,” Jimini whispered.
“Who?” Chaim said out of the side of his
mouth.
“Gabryl.”
“We don’t know that.”
“It is
him,” she insisted, and then they were in front of the desk.
“Please sit.” He waved them to the seats there.
Chaim perched cautiously, but Jimini regarded
the man in his old-fashioned clothes without moving. “I can smell other
shapeshifters,” she spat. “Who are you?”
He bowed over his hands. “As you suspect, I am
Gabryl.”
“Shapeshifter.”
“As you are? I shift, but not into shapes.
Sit, Kaval bitch, or I kill the old man right now.”
She sat. Chaim, meanwhile, studied the man
with absolute serenity. How did he do that? Despite all her time, she had not
yet mastered the art.
“You have no soul,” he murmured, cocking his
head thoughtfully. “You shift between a body long buried and a replica
resurrected form, but not as soul, as something akin to soul. You are thus both
dead and alive. How fascinating.”
Gabryl stared at the old man and then laughed.
Sitting, he leaned back to rake Chaim with a speculative look. “Impressive.
Thus far the Kaval have surprised me. I am now beyond thankful that I prepared
the battlefield before beginning this, for you have seen through me more
swiftly than I had envisioned. I do, however, have a soul; it simply isn’t with
me in this form.”
“You have Tristan and Alusin.” Jimini offered
it as a statement.
“I do, along with other hostages.”
“Why are we here?”
“You are unimportant. Chaim is the one I seek
to converse with.” He ignored Jimini. “The Kaval, having realised two of their
own are missing, will have set certain factors into motion. I may not foresee
all of those, but I did suspect you or the young genius, what’s his name? Ah,
Galarth. One of you would pay a visit to Titania, no doubt tasked with the duty
to discover more about this Gabryl.”
He gave a laconic smile.
“Here I
am,” Chaim said equably.
“Alusin proved sneakier than I thought,”
Gabryl mused. “I had a suspicion he sidestepped to the Dome, which you have now
proven in knowing my name. How insightful of me to prepare this particular
battlefield as well, in the event.”
“Is there a point you are attempting to
reach?”
Jimini could have kissed the old man. He
appeared frail, but he was stubborn and tough.
“This; if you bring the Dome into Petunya
airspace, the daetal will attach to its carapace and eat their way through.
They are, after all, immune to magic. They are also immune to the effects of
vacuum.” Gabryl leaned in menacingly. “Stay away.”
“Anything else?” Chaim asked. Not a muscle had
ticked on his face to betray his feelings.
Those cold eyes became as ice. “Search the
accounts of my life stored here all you desire. All of it is true, but none of
it will tell you the real story. Feel free to waste your time; it will keep you
busy. While you search, look up the Kemir, and then tell me who the real enemy
is.” He stood then. “Please avail yourselves to this space for your research.
You may access the database from here. I have paid well for this service.”
“Thank you,” Chaim said. Blinking, Gabryl
stared at him.
“Are you leaving?” Jimini taunted. “You’ve
said your piece, right?”
“The Kaval is not all-powerful,” he snapped.
“Beware your arrogance.”
“Take your own advice,” Jimini laughed.
After raking her with his icy gaze, he
vanished, leaving a puff of rotten smelling vapour in his wake.
Chaim sniffed. “At this very moment he is in
fact dead. He has confirmed the daetal for us, how kind of him. Jimini, go to
the Dome and tell Belun, then come back. Bring Jonas, if Belun can spare him.
We will be looking at every minute detail of this creature’s life.”
“What about the Kemir thing?”
Sighing, Chaim stood and moved to the monitor
against the far wall. “We will do that also. Go.”
She transported out, refusing to walk the long
walk again. It was against Titania’s rules, but she did not care.
Elsewhere
IT WAS not the state of matter that determined result. Gabryl’s life or death was not the issue, although they believed such. His energy mattered. She grinned sourly. Energy mattered; what a contradiction.
Her energy was more important than the state
of her body as well, and yet she wished for physical strength also. To escape
this prison, she needed everything
she was in place.
Xen III
THE LIBRARY on Titania might have copies of everything, but for weapons and their parts, the chemicals and consequences, Xen III’s military archives were where to find what one was looking for. Mercury, its uses old and current, and its availability, would be on file.
As the Kaval and Xen’s Peacekeepers had an
understanding, Fuma and Amunti swiftly gained entrance to an underground bunker
system. In the present era, Xen III had no standing army, but all Xenians
trained for a period of five years, between the ages of twenty years old and
thirty, men and women alike. This meant that Xen had access to a trained
population in the event of emergency. The archives were thus up to date.
Fuma, as ever clad in very little, led the
way. Amunti eyed him from behind, swathed in layers. “After all this time, I
still don’t get how you don’t bloody freeze.” This was on an on-going gripe,
and Fuma merely grinned.
Two soldiers currently serving their time
waited for them up ahead, and greeted the Kaval men with curiosity evident in
both pairs of eyes. Soldiers did not ask questions, though, and they therefore
presented themselves as aides. Both were young men nearing the end of their
tours and were now on easier duty. Fuma gave the reason for their visit, and
the four got to work, taking up residence in a warm office where a bank of
computers waited.
HOURS later,
all understood it had been a waste of time. Few weapons used mercury, although
a few older devices required tiny amounts for circuitry. None of the latter was
anything close to what the Kaval sought. As to availability, many worlds had a
small amount, largely as part of their scientific endeavours, but even
collecting all of it from worlds near and far-flung would result in less than a
filled wine carafe.
“Alusin’s capture does not now make sense,”
Amunti muttered.
Fuma tapped at the table. They were alone; the
young men had left to fetch refreshments. “Then Alusin is there for another
reason, while we waste our …” The Deorc straightened. “We are being kept busy.
All this is a smokescreen.”
Frowning, Amunti stared at the heap of
printouts in front of him. “This Gabryl suspects we are about to get involved
and lays a false trail.”
“Hmm, not false exactly. I think we’re simply
being too logical about it. We overlook something and he keeps us busy in order
to mask what it is he cannot afford for us to find.”
Amunti sucked at his teeth. “Dome?”
“Yes. We need to unravel this more.” Fuma
smiled. “But we eat first, what say you?” Rubbing his palms, Amunti agreed.
Higunalsier
AS AKHAVAR and Danaan twirled in isolated space, the one inhabited, the other abandoned, and as Avaelyn had orbited in far-flung ether before its vanishing act, thus was the case with Higunalsier.
If one mapped direction from Beacon, the
populated human world roughly in the centre of the well-travelled routes and
occupied territories, Akhavar lay a distant west, Avaelyn further away to the
south, Valaris east, and then, far beyond isolated Pilan, world of rainbows,
there was Higunalsier, a northern destination. The Forbidden Zone with its
collection of galaxies, among which mighty Luvanor, the Valleur world, orbited,
was closer, and one needed to find direction to it from the outer worlds. Higunalsier was thus one of a handful of
truly distant worlds.
Fortunately for Shenendo and Galarth, it was
marked on the universe chart, and they thus had no trouble in finding it. The
instant they put feet to earth there, both men knew that history had lied.
Possibly even Alusin had lied.
With ancient paving under their booted feet,
wet from spray, they looked out over a sea undulating as gentle waves lapped
upon a pristine beach to the right of them. The jetty they had landed on jutted
into the ocean, surrounded by rhythmic splashes. On the horizon the sun was
just rising, sending warm amber tendrils of light to skitter upon the water’s
unceasing motion. Across from them was a small inlet, sparsely populated with
smooth rocks as sentinels of the sea, and, beyond, mountains verdant ascended
gradually into the clouds.
It was a magnificent morning on Higunalsier.
Before them, at the very edge of the jetty, there stood a man in homespun robes
clutching a staff. Long white hair shifted in the slight breeze. He was
otherwise unmoving as he watched the sun rise. Neither man desired to interfere
with his solemn introspection, although they glanced at each other in utter
astonishment. Not only was this world wholesome and beautiful, but clearly it
was not as abandoned as the records revealed.
As the orb of life and light lifted away from
the horizon, the man bowed, and then swiftly swung about. His astonishment was
as marked. He halted immediately, facing them, his eyes shifting from one man
to the other. With the sun behind him, it was difficult to determine eye
colour.
Shenendo stepped forward. “Well met. I am …”
He stopped there, for the man frowned his confusion.
“Not common tongue,” Galarth murmured, and
spoke the same greeting in Valleur. That too elicited only mystification.
“Crap, I wish Alusin was …”
“Alusin?” the man repeated. His was a tenor,
the kind of voice people listened to.
“Do you know any Kemir?” Galarth hissed.
Shenendo snorted. “Of course bloody not.
Alusin strikes a chord, though.”
“Kemir,” the man repeated, and then waved his
arm in a gesture to encompass sea and land. “Eurue.”
“Oh, fuck, Gal, this isn’t good.”
“Tell me about it,” Galarth muttered.
Holding his hands aloft, the staff clutched in
his left, the man approached. He halted before them, and indicated to Shenendo,
a motion that spoke of … touch?
“I think he’s asking if he can touch you,”
Galarth said.
Feeling spectacularly uneasy, Shenendo nodded
and held his hand out, palm up. Amusement climbed into the man’s eyes - dark
blue, exactly Alusin’s shade - and carefully placed his fingertips on
Shenendo’s wrist, over his pulse. He lifted his hand a moment later, and
gestured to Galarth. After touching Galarth’s wrist as well, he stepped back.
“I am Savier, and you understand me now
because I have made a connection with your language centres.” He inclined his
head, studying them.
Inhaling, Shenendo said, “I am Shenendo, and
this is Galarth. We are Kaval.”
“Why are you here? Few visit our world. It is
a truth that we are far removed from both thought and proximity to others.”
“We were told this world is deserted, possibly
even uninhabitable,” Galarth said. “We did not expect to find anyone here,
never mind this …” He lifted his gaze to the wondrous ocean. “… beauty.”
Savier smiled. “You appreciate beauty. Such a
man is a good man, but why come to a world deserted?”
Galarth swiped a hand over his face, glancing
at Shenendo.
“It is about Alusin, isn’t it?” Those intense
eyes studied each in turn. “What has my brother done now?”
Nowhere
FINALLY!
She smiled and murmured something
inconsequential to her gaoler. Flicking her a glance, he moved a pawn on the
chessboard. He did not trust her apparent civility, but then she did not trust
his ostensibly good graces. His reasons for trapping her here were pure
fabrications. He was the darak force,
not her.
No comments:
Post a Comment