Authors: J. A. Ginegaw
Gaunt now speaks faster than usual, “No mere discovery; none of us, including myself, has ever seen anything like this. The rules, Dr. Rothschild, have changed. And changed forever. You above all people know that those with power make history, those with knowledge write of it, and of those who wield both …
they
interpret history to their biased advantage. These have always been the ways of the past, but it is up to you and your team to determine if this continues to be the way of the future.”
As I and the other four scientists whisper amongst ourselves, the Mossad spy steps forth. As he does so, Gaunt retreats into the shadows with the others and I feel a gentle coolness rush into my body. My eyes immediately drawn to what the Mossad spy holds out in both hands; his smooth, steady voice wraps a welcome calm around the CIC.
“This is the Allan Hills 84001 meteorite. Along with many thousands just like it, it fell from the sky more than 13,000 years ago. Now, I think all of us have already concluded that
these
meteorites had a hand in bringing about the ‘awareness’ of those you discovered. That
this
was the start of it all. Am I right?”
“
Oui
...
le début de tout cela
[19]
,” I gasp. The Mossad spy slowly walks before each of us and silently encourages our greedy hands to touch the meteorite. With trembling fingers and awe-struck stares, we all do so.
“Others have found what they believe to be ancient microbes embedded in this meteorite and others like it.” His excited tone suggests that our fascination with ALH84001 has emboldened him. “Could some of these microbes have survived their journey across the heavens? Taking place many thousands of years ago – why not? Exposed to oxygen and no longer confined to their rocky prison, what became of them? Our governments have a valid purpose here; we think we know what happened next. Alive, even after impact, these bacteria were then free to roam the depths of a large lake. By our direction, Dr. Korzhak drilled in a few locations to find this body of water. And he found it. Water we expected, yes, but the stunning amount of Uranium 234 – no, not at all. The living microbes from long ago mixed with the water, oxygen, and this uranium to create a very ‘unnatural soup’ if you will. In this most welcome environment, it was not long before they spread about the lake.”
The Mossad spy passes off the long ago fallen space rock to another spy and addresses me directly.
“You are right, Dr. Rothschild – although the Rise of Sapiens and creation of the Gryphons is beyond fascinating, to leap forward into the future of the past is indeed the proper path to lead us on.”
As no one aside from the Admiral, the other scientists, and my men have yet to hear a single word regarding our translations, I immediately realize that the spies have somehow bugged and snuck cameras into the CIC, and probably the translation room too. They very well could have even hacked into my systems and learned everything I have. We had done precious little to secure the equipment or the room itself.
Considering these rogues, what would have been the point?
Even if my men and I had put forth the greatest of efforts to do so, these shadowy spies and their digital ilk would need to put forth barely
any
effort to breach them. No walls, no protections, nothing I have control over has the power to combat their will to slither about and spoil. But this revelation does not make me angry – just the opposite. I become almost giddy as I consider that these spies would go to such extremes
to
learn
and not simply seek the quickest path to corrupt both themselves and others.
A rush of energy forces its way through my body and a sly smile creeps across my face. My leather bag in hand, I step over to the map that, for the moment, is rather bare. Seas to the north, mountains to the east, volcanoes to the south, and golden prairies in between its only features – this is about to change. My back to the group, I turn to face them, point to the dark circles Alfred had asked about in the morning, and hold the leather bag up high.
“The right path chosen,” I tease, “concerning our map of Terra Australis, we can finally learn what the pieces I hold in my hand are for.”
More grumblings, others finally come to my side.
“I trust her,” Dr. Korzhak blurts. “She tells us what she thinks is best, and we will like it!”
“My granddaughter
is
the storyteller here,” Admiral Vanderbilt adds. “Come on, give her a chance.”
“Well, what you have told us already was pretty amazing,” Alistair mumbles through bits of pastry stuck in his normally ready-for-the-camera smile. “Could anything else
really
be more interesting?”
“More than you know!” I shout excitedly. As I dearly want to put these pieces in place, I shake the bag impatiently. Ready to offer a protest of my own, I pause to consider how best to explain more methodical madness.
“This may come as a shock, but what you have heard so far is barely a speck of all that I hope to tell you.” Finally, some stern stares turn softer. “Remember back to your childhoods. Sitting by a window in a dusty room on a bright summer day and gazing in wonder as thousands of tiny specks floated about the air in a beam of sunlight – the ancient words I have revealed so far are but a single one.”
“A single speck among thousands –
really
?” my usually reserved Major calls out. I cock my head and throw him a puzzling look. He smiles back sheepishly.
Great confidence suddenly swells inside my bosom. I no longer have to reach into a pocket to clutch my crimson gem for inspiration – it is now around my neck. I had returned to my barracks during afternoon tea and slipped it on then. Words cannot describe how the thin gold chain felt against my craving skin when they first met. The long, slow breath I took in once diamond touched flesh was as if the first time I had ever breathed. My jewel now flush against my heart, I feel as if it can almost touch my soul. The CIC kept quite cold, no one sees it as suspicious that I wear a turtleneck – a black one, of course – to hide the gem.
“We can continue on in order of events and simply pull back a layer at a time,” I declare in my strongest voice, “
or
we can immerse ourselves not only in the story of this world, but in its purpose. Come now, tell me – just what path shall we pursue?”
“Into the future of the past – ONWARD!” Admiral Vanderbilt proclaims. His eager grin and extended arm as if pointing forward draws a handful of chuckles. The Admiral’s words perhaps reminding them of the boldness of our mission, most of the others finally agree with a wave of nods to embark with me on my desired path.
I beckon Dr. Leitz to join me. Next, I offer the contents of the leather bag to him. He pulls out the first modeling piece, but I swiftly swipe it and motion for him to choose another. I will save this largest one for last. Although Alfred’s look suggests he is somewhat puzzled by this, he says nothing and withdraws a second piece.
“Hakleddamm,” I announce. “Home of the Gryphons, they are Terra Australis’ miners and most talented jewelsmiths.”
I point to the empty circle at the southwest corner of the map. Dr. Leitz about to place it in its fittings, Dr. Korzhak leaps up, rushes toward us, and throws his saddest puppy eyes in our direction. This plea to be involved granted, with a warm smile Alfred hands him the piece and steps to the opposite side of the map from where I stand. The giddy Russian then clicks this piece in place and slides to the side as well. Next, the kind German reaches for another.
“Atagartis!” I point to the empty circle at the map’s northwest corner. “This is the Mermaid capital city. Admired artisans, Mermaids also wield a great gift bestowed by Sapiens in the fleeting hope to temper the cruel terms of their crooked creation. They provide most of the seafood that feeds the many thousands of hungry mouths of not just Mermaids, but every nation. As we will soon see, these harvests from the sea are crucial for getting those who lived in Terra Australis through their sunless winters.”
“When the translations started to come in,” Korzhak blurts unexpectedly as he sets the model piece in place, “Dr. Saddlebirch told me that Mermaids could hold themselves upright – even move on land! Is this true?”
“It is true, my friend.” As I turn to face the others, I pause just long enough to let a handful of whispers find their way out of the CIC. “By way of ringed muscles, Mermaids could indeed stay upright on the lower third of their powerful tails. Using their flukes for balance, they could also move along the ground about as fast as we slowly walk. To go a little faster, they used what we have translated as ‘walking sticks’. If we saw them today, I believe we would describe these walking sticks as something akin to elegant crutches.” With a proud chuckle, I feel a sly smile slither across my face. “Near naked, defenseless little Mermaids, these lords of Atagartis most certainly are not!”
Alfred staring off into nowhere, I nudge his elbow; with a start, he refocuses on me. He then reaches into the leather bag, pulls out another model piece, and hands it to Victor.
“As we continue clockwise … the Agathis Australis. These the wooded lands of the Arachna Majora, at its center sits a bustling city bathed in the shadows of Kauri tree canopies. We already know about the treasured Kauri wood they provide; we will soon learn of their invaluable silk as well. Although it sounds almost impossible, in time Arachna also become the best-trained medics to all – basically, this ancient world’s doctors.”
I point not to the dark circle at the top center awaiting its piece, but to the one in the northeast quadrant of the map. Victor clicks this third piece in, and Alfred withdraws the next.
“Half of it built into the Guardian Mountains: Lacanesia, the capital of the Centaurs.” I point to the southeast circle.
As Dr. Korzhak sets the piece in place, Dr. Leitz pulls out the last one.
“History having taught us that democracy arose from Athens – guess again. Centaurs are this world’s builders and farmers. Although very different from Mermaids, they nonetheless share a most intertwined history.”
As I daydream for a few moments of this tangled knot, Victor fastens the model piece for Elkabydos at the top center of the map where my finger now points. He and Alfred then take their seats.
“Elkabydos,” I more whisper than say aloud. In regards to this city and the ones who built it, all are in for a shock. “Of course, we already know of Sapiens and their city. Although they are most like us, temper your fondness for them, my friends – Terra Australis may be at its apex, but the mystics number very few. More to the point, their kind are dying off.”
Stunned gasps fill in the silence my pause leaves behind. Once these gasps turn into whispers too loud for my liking, I swiftly drown them out.
“At the time from where our story restarts, Sapiens have long ago abandoned Elkabydos,” I snap the largest piece I had stolen earlier from Dr. Leitz into the last, southernmost empty circle, “for Antediluvium.”
Hearing this city name, Alistair and Alfred shoot questioning stares at Dr. Saddlebirch. I watch as Chance meets these stares at first, but then turns away. This aloofness neither confirms nor denies the reason behind the hint of fear in their eyes. Next, theirs and every other pair of gawking orbs beg me for an explanation.
“Elkabydos – the first great city – for many centuries it has been little more than ruins,” I tell them softly.
That those of flesh and blood no longer wander the haunted city’s streets, but that banished souls do – as they will learn this soon enough, I see no need to tell them now.
In an attempt to cheer up the suddenly somber mood, I stay focused on the largest piece. “Antediluvium is a communal city shared by all. Each kind controls an equally sized prefecture; the one to the north is home to the remaining Sapiens. Their numbers are much smaller now, yes this is true, but as with your fondness, temper your pity for them as well. All possessing the most calculating of minds, a handful still skilled with magic, the most powerful among them determined to leave her everlasting mark on the world – they will have a very large part to play in our story.”
My playfully mischievous smile helps close a few gaping mouths, but not all. If I were one of them, I too would sport the same codfish mouth.
“Of how so many Sapiens once wandered this world and now only a small number still live, such a squandering very much boggles the mind. Although so few, the wisest Sapiens still serve a much-needed purpose. Keepers of a sprawling repository I believe rivaled the Great Library at Alexandria, the Sapien monarch, historian, and a handful of others teach the privileged sons and daughters of nobles. These teachings start in early spring and run into autumn”
“Most believe,” Dr. Ravensdale begins slowly, “that the Pandidakterion of Constantinople was the world’s first true university. Others believe it might have been Puphagiri or Nalanda in India.” He lets out a smug chuckle. “It very much appears they are all wrong.”
As I survey the room, the fiery glints in their eyes have finally faded away, but I feel as if I have yet to convince all of them to push forward. Desperate to see
every
eye sparkle in wonder once again – I awake the room with a start.
“And there is a game!” I boldly declare. “A
very
brutal,
very
skillful game called Harpastum. Invented thirty centuries earlier, Sapien masters played Harpastum while riding atop their Gryphon servants. On this day, however, Sapiens no longer play and with good reason. Within minutes of the initial volley to start, every one of them would suffer a horrid death by repeated tramplings followed by multiple dismemberments. Considering this, only Arachna Majora, Centaurs, and Gryphons still play.”
I very much have their attention now!
The four scientists much closer to me than the soldiers and spies, I now focus strictly on them.
“As for how to describe it … well, I
suppose
you could say it has certain elements you might find in a whole host of different games where a ball, scoring, and a pitch or court is involved. The Mesoamerican ballgame (as they all know what this is, every scientist nods) … rugby (all nod again) … lacrosse (two of the four appear puzzled) … jai alai (all but the American appears puzzled)?” I pause for a few seconds before suggesting unsurely, “Maybe something like …
Quidditch
[20]
?”
All four scientists cock their head at this name. As I take in their scrunched faces, a creepy silence slinks around us. My soldiers sharing the same confused look as the scientists, Admiral Vanderbilt grins smugly at this.
“Just what kind of game
is
this?” Major Sinclair asks.
I let another round of silence hover over the room. In truth, I am stunned not one of them knows of the fictional game of Quidditch.
“Oh,
I know
what Quidditch is,” Saddlebirch blurts suddenly. Although a bit excited, he keeps his drawl steady. “It’s that, um … that game they play in those P-P-Percy Potter books!” So proud of himself, the cowboy nods self-assuredly while the others just stare at him. “Y’all need to get your heads out of the sand sometimes!”
As Chance so pompously says this, I lean toward Admiral Vanderbilt. “Ten points to Gryffindor,” I whisper sarcastically. The good Admiral chuckles.
Just wait until they hear about the stadium where the ancients played this game!
“The stories of just Sapiens and Gryphons can wait,” Victor announces excitedly. “I want to hear about Mermaids and Centaurs too!”
“The revolution can wait as well. As the Admiral said –
ONWARD!
”
“Take us into the future of the past, Dr. Rothschild!”
“HA! Now that’s the spirit!” Admiral Vanderbilt crows.
Applause and happy banter fill the room to confirm that others share the same thought. Even the spies – aside from Director Gaunt, of course – take a seat on the carpet.
“Please read more from the copper plates!” Dr. Leitz begs.
I take a flurry of swigs of water and look over the group of men suddenly beholden to my every word.
“Fair enough, fair enough – I will delay no longer! This amazing world at its zenith, we are
very
ready to dive in. A king and queen freshly crowned; a procession of many thousands taking in the grandest of scenes; the brilliant, brutal game I have just described; tragic disaster ready to break our hearts – this day we now travel to had it all. Today is a day each of us will always remember. And for those who witnessed many millennia ago the day we now travel to,
they
would never forget such a day as well.”
The texts I had read previously were of a time before the creation of the necklace and its jewel around my neck. The texts to come take place long after its creation. I have not read of my blood red diamond in any translation to this point, yet I already know the story of how it came to be.
How can I know this?
Because the crimson jewel that now provides subtle warmth against my bosom has ‘told’ me. And as I remember this, as I revel in this, its whispers again pierce my mind:
“The spies seek me – they will steal me if they can. Although our secret is safe for now, I fear this will not last.”
The digital tablets to access the correct translation now in front of me, I tip my head up. Gaunt’s blackened eyes pulling my star-crossed stare into his as if they are tiny black holes – I look away.
My gem speaks to me again:
“The translations in the five codices are but a taste of all the knowledge I can teach you. Of all the ages I can show you. Of all the worlds that have ever been, of all the worlds that will ever be. Keep me hidden from their greedy clutches and I will lead your soul to places your mind never dreamed it could go. You need only do as I suggest, and to the ends of space and time I will protect you because you have protected me
….
”
That my jewel can pass knowledge into my mind should terrify me, but it does not – just the opposite. That it possesses such power comforts me and smugly so.
I smile to myself. My gem turns warmer against my bare bosom to acknowledge this smile. Why I keep the true color of my hair and the shades of my eyes a secret – it is all so clear to me now. After so many years, I FINALLY recall who I am. Finally recall the brilliance, recall the suffering, recall my rebirth.
And because I now know why
it
chose
me
, why only
I
am worthy enough to wear it, my crimson soul receives the response it has craved since it first touched my flesh:
“Hello, old friend
...
we meet again, we meet at last. And this time, I WILL obey.”