DUALITY: The World of Lies (24 page)

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Authors: Paul Barufaldi

Tags: #android, #science fiction, #cyborg, #buddhist, #daoist, #electric universe, #taiji, #samsara, #machine world

BOOK: DUALITY: The World of Lies
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As if on cue, Gahre saw a pair of shining,
beady eyes appear on the far end of the beam, glaring directly
toward him. Moloch, he could see at once, was a stout and clever
brown rat.

“Then he shall dine on my cheese rations
tomorrow, Brother Indulu! Let me honor you by making yours the
fattest rat in all the realms. And do take heed, for when I’m
finished, you may mistake him for a hedgehog!”

Gahre glared back at
Monloch. 
Return to your
lair!

“Please, dear brothers, be seated,” announced
Indulu.

Moloch took a step
forward. 
You should not be
here!

“Oh, do allow me to clean this table first,”
insisted Brother Risso. “It is covered in dust. Monloch must have
been scurrying about in the rafters again.”

Gahre felt a bead of sweat flow
over his forehead. 
Do you think you
frighten me?! I’ve dispensed with many of your kind!

“No matter, Brother Risso. Let us proceed, for
there are many issues to address.”

Monloch turned sideways into his
most aggressive posture, dragging his tail slowly around in front
of him. 
You stole my food!

The discussion below quite unexpectedly
switched languages. Indulu gave a long opening statement, but Gahre
could make almost nothing out of it. That rat snarling at him made
it even more difficult to concentrate.

Go away rat, I warn
you!

He heard the word “Arath” in the very first
sentence, and then repeated twice more later. He also heard a word
very similar to “Rubeli”, which was the name of the largest and
most unusual star in the sky. And he picked out a recurring
syllable “dar”, which seemed to come in either the middle or the
beginning of the last phrase in sentences, sometimes occurring
twice. Judging by the way it was cast in the rhythm of
the sentences, he guessed it was a preposition like “in” “at” or
“on”.

Moloch began to slink towards him
with a vicious glimmer in his eye. 
I
will bite you!

Next, Elder Panthus spoke. It was very brief
and sounded like a question. In it, Gahre clearly made out
“Dhrussius,” a name he recognized. Dhrussius was a senior member of
The Order who had visited Tulan for this very spring conference two
years ago.

Gahre placed his middle finger
behind his thumb, holding his hand
forward. 
If you come near me, I will
flick you in the nose!

Brother Botha responded. In it, Gahre heard
the Occitanian word “Oberion”, which referred to that old red
bloodmoon in the night sky. And the word “Oberion” had been
preceded by “dar”. Yes! He’d heard the phrase “Dhrussius dar
Oberion!”

Monloch was now just inches from his
outstretched hand, slightly beyond his reach. Gahre flicked at him
as a warning of what would happen should he come any closer. But
just as the action ended, Monloch used the opportunity to leap
forward and sink his long, sharp rat teeth into Gahre’s middle
finger. The pain was shocking and excruciating. And a rat does not
simply bite and withdraw; it keeps its long teeth buried in the
flesh and gnaws rapidly.

Gahre bit his lip to keep from hollering out
as his flesh was being mangled! He shook his hand wildly, but
Monloch would not release his finger. He grabbed Moloch with his
free hand and tried to pull him off, but Monloch responded by
clamping his teeth deeply into to Gahre’s finger-bone.

And that was when Gahre fell from the
rafters.

He crashed onto the very center along the
conference table, which split in two. It was quite a shock to his
back, and the rear section of the table thumped him hard enough on
the head to daze him. He was clutching his bloody hand, and there
was a squealing sound as Monloch fled the scene.

The men about the table stood up in shocked
disbelief. Indulu, however, rose naturally.

“It seems we had more than one rat in our
rafters this night. Brother Botha, Brother Sanguji, I give you
Gahre.”

Gahre was more than a bit dazed, and his mind
was still swimming. He began speaking, but his words flowed like
the sound of babbling.

“Dhrussius dar Oberion… Elder Dhrussius is on
Oberion! That means people live on the moon!!! How wondrous!!! How
do you get them there? A kind of… flying ship? Why do we not see
their fires? Have they no forests, no water? Why only stony red
like granite, no green, no blue?”

Brother Sanguji shook his head in dismay, and
pulled the young man to his feet. Gahre was still reeling. “You are
injured, young one!”

“That is the least of his problems
now,” spoke Indulu gravely. “Gahre… Gahre!”

Gahre snapped to a bit. “Yes, Honored One. I
am sorry, but….”

“You are bleeding!”

“Yes, your rat attacked me… you see I… I… I
just can’t believe it! It’s so marvelous!”

“Silence, foolish one! Have you any idea how
serious this is? Go into the washroom, close the door, and dress
your wound with the bandages in the cabinet. Then you can wait
there while we discuss your fate.”

“Yes, Honored One.”

Gahre did as he’d been bidden and staggered
into the washroom, cutting through the air of solemn disapproval
that filled the lodge. Once in he approached the sink and set down
his candle, he became aware of the throbbing pain in his finger. He
realized he had been dripping blood all the way in here. The wound
was deep and open enough to see the white of bone. With his left
hand, he flipped open the cupboard and snatched a roll of bandages.
He quickly unraveled a section and wrapped it tightly around the
wound to stop the bleeding. Gahre had a high pain threshold, but he
would clearly need a doctor at some point.

The washroom door was solid and he could hear
little beyond it. He crouched down on the floor, dizzily, and
resumed his ponderings.

An hour later a knock came. The Elder Panthus
entered with a mug of water and plate of cheese and bread which he
set down before Gahre. At the age of 144, Elder Panthus was long
retired, and it had been he who monitored Gahre all these years in
Tulan at the behest of Indulu. He was the only elder Gahre ever
felt he had gotten to know well, though they had never shared any
great fondness for one another.

“You’ve gotten yourself into a pickle this
time, boy.”

“I realize that, Venerable Elder.”

“You never should have done such a
thing!”

“I suppose The Order will never take me
now.”

“Boy, The Order never was going to take you
anyway.”

That statement hit Gahre like a sack of stones
over the head, and his eyes burned. He slugged down a gulp of water
and displayed an angry frown.

“Gahre, my boy, you are brash and willful. We
could never use you. And your marks in school are none too
impressive. You failed history of all things.”

Gahre tried to remember who he was talking to,
tried to keep the respect in his voice and not shout at the old
man. “Venerable Elder, I stopped reading my history book halfway
through the course because I sensed it was filled with lies. Go
ahead, tell me it isn’t and make a liar out of yourself. Tell me I
might not just as well have taken out a fairy-tale from the
library!”

The old man fumed, and spent a few moments in
frustrated silence.

“Oh, you’d best watch your words, boy. This is
far more serious than your previous clashes with authority. Indulu
and I are the only friends you’ve got here tonight. He’s out there
negotiating on your behalf as we speak. You do not even want to
know what the others propose we do with you.”

“Do as you will, Venerable Elder. I do not
fear any of you. If The Order rejects me, I will reject it and go
about gathering as much Forbidden Knowledge as I please. I am quite
capable of traveling on my own –through any terrain. To stop me,
you would have to kill me or imprison me. And I already know you
will do neither of those things!”

“Then we will exile you –to an
island!”

Gahre raised his head to the old man and
nearly shouted in his defiance. “I will build a boat!”

Elder Panthus took his leave, gruffly. “You
are sealing your fate, boy.”

“And after that, I’ll build an airship and
sail it to Oberion!” shouted Gahre loud enough for all to hear as
the door latched shut again.

More time passed. He could not move his sore
and burning finger. Although he was hungry, he ate only half the
platter. He definitely should not have lost his temper with old
Panthus, he realized upon reflection. He was only telling him the
truth about The Order not calling upon him, and he should
appreciate that in a world where, apparently, the real truth about
things was next to impossible to come by. It was
increasingly obvious to him that world was filled with a kind of
“fake truth” –and that was not acceptable to his heart. The truth,
pure and unadulterated: one way or the other, he vowed he would
come to know it.

And it was truth he contemplated as more and
more the night passed by. And in its darkest hour, Indulu came to
him.

“I am glad to see you calm. Come, my
son.”

Gahre carried his platter out into the main
area of the lodge. They had moved their chairs into a circle about
the kitchen since they no longer had a table to sit at. They barely
looked upon him as he emerged.

“Venerable Elder Panthus,” Gahre bowed his
head as he made the address, “I apologize for the tone I took with
you earlier. May you sleep well this night, and know you will
always have my sentiments. You are as a grandfather to every boy in
Tulan.”

“That is very decent of you, Gahre my boy. And
I hold you in no account for the words of this evening. I
sympathize with your conflict, bright one. May it find glorious
resolution.”

“Gahre, do you feel well enough to take a walk
with me through the forest? Just you and me?” Indulu
inquired.

“I would like that very much, Honored One. But
first, I wish to leave this platter for Monloch.”

“For Monloch?”

“Yes, Honored One. When I came in this
afternoon, I ate his biscuit. That’s why he attacked
me.”

“Did he tell you that’s why he attacked
you?”

“Um…” Gahre found he couldn’t answer the
question.

Indulu smiled. “Very well, my son, place it
there in the corner if you will.”

“Could you summon him, Honored One? I want him
to see me do it.”

Indulu shook his head gracefully. “A debt
repaid unseen clears the account of Heaven.”

Gahre laid the platter and accompanied Indulu
out of the lodge and into the Oak Grove. They strolled some time
before speaking. When they crossed an old wooden bridge that led to
the outer periphery of the grove, Gahre broke the
silence.

“Honored One…”

“Gahre,” smiled Indulu, “Let us dispense with
formal addresses. I wish us to speak as equals.”

Gahre found that statement more than
peculiar.

“But, Honored One, we are not equals! You are
man of high ranking in The Order, and I am but a young man
with only one accomplishment of note to speak
of.”

“I think you accomplished something tonight,
didn’t you?”

“I broke the Law this night.”

Indulu stopped and put his hands on Gahre’s
shoulders. “This is not just a matter of worldly law, my son. It
goes way beyond that. Though, let me begin by telling you your
sentence: It has been decreed that you will live in the cabin north
of the outer cornfields and do the work of the land for two full
years. After that time, you may seek a wife and take a home in
Tulan. Or, if you prefer, you may travel the Realms. But you
will vow, on the spirit of your departed mother, not to disseminate
the Forbidden Knowledge you have obtained.”

“I will swear nothing on my mother’s spirit
but my undying love of her. And you will never, never make a farmer
out of me.”

“I know that, my son. I know these things. I
am just relaying to you what has been determined by the council.
But I hope you will tell me, just me, what you truly intend to
do.”

“I have vowed, Honored One, to travel east to
the Forbidden Land of Arath.”

Indulu’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know of
Arath? Who told you this?”

“That is my secret, and I forbid you to know
it.”

“My son, I fought long and hard on your behalf
tonight. They wanted to exile you. Please trust me enough to tell
me how you came to know this.”

“Honored One, perhaps you can explain to me
how it is The Order is able to travel upward to the moon of
Oberion. I do have some sense of how high it is, far beyond the
reach of any bird.”

“Gahre, I should not give you any more
Forbidden Knowledge… directly. But I will tell you something about
our order –and your father. However, you must agree to tell me
where you learned of Arath.”

Gahre’s mind deliberated for a long moment.
“Very well, Honored One, tell me of my father.”

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