The Marus Manuscripts (22 page)

“I’ll go out and talk to them,” Arin responded.

“They’ll tear you apart,” one of the other young men said.

“They don’t have the courage,” Arin said. “They’re brave as long as this wall stands between us. Face-to-face, they know with whom they’re dealing. They won’t harm me. It’s not within their power.”

Arin went to the gate. Within its frame was a smaller, man-sized door. He lifted the enormous bar that secured the door and handed it to the bearded man, who struggled against its weight. Only then did Wade have some idea of how strong Arin must be. Arin nodded to his wife, took a deep breath, then opened the door to the crowd. The people went silent at the sight of the old man.

Arin asked in a calm voice, “What do you want?”

No one replied.

“Simply out for an afternoon stroll and some vandalism, is that it?” Arin said with a wry smile.

“We want to know what you’re up to behind those walls!” a man shouted.

“You know very well what I’m up to. I’ve made it clear to you for years now.”

“We want to see,” challenged a woman.

“Ah, but that you will not do,” Arin said and held up his hand. “Repent, turn your hearts to the Unseen One, and you will see. Until then, you’ll remain in your blindness and ignorance.”

A husky-voiced man called out, “Just who are you to call us blind? Who made you our judge?”

Arin spread his arms as if reasoning with them. “I am not judging you. Only the Unseen One judges. And He has judged you. The wickedness of this generation has reached His nostrils like the stench of a decaying corpse. He has given you every chance to repent, to return to Him. But you refuse. So His judgment is coming. It’s closer than you think.”

“You’ve been saying that for years!” another man shouted.

“Yes!” Arin replied. “And to think that you’ve had all those years to repent, to show good faith in the Unseen One. But have you? No! But the day is coming—it is here!”

A man laughed scornfully. “He’s going to wipe us all out, is that what you’re saying?” he challenged. “The Unseen One’s going to destroy us all!”

Arin turned to Muiraq. “Bring the boy,” he instructed.

Muiraq put her hand on Wade’s back. Wade resisted when he realized he was the boy Arin wanted.

“It’s all right,” she said softly. “You won’t get hurt.”

“Why does he want me?” Wade asked. “I don’t have anything to do with this.”

“Oh yes, you do. More than you know.”

Wade allowed himself to be guided forward to the door. Anybody who looked like Grandma Milly wouldn’t do anything to harm him, he reasoned.

“The final sign is here,” Arin announced to the crowd. “See for yourselves.” With that, Arin pulled Wade into view.

The crowd gasped and shrank back. Some of them cried out.

Wade wanted to run back inside the gate. He couldn’t imagine what was so hideous about his features that people would react that way. He hoped it was the robe. He had never liked the color of it. It had been a gift from his aunt Priscilla.

“It’s a trick!” someone said.

But no one stuck around to find out whether the statement was true. The people backed farther and farther from the door, then turned and scattered in various directions down the street. Many of them kept looking back with expressions of fear. One man lifted a rock and came forward as if he might throw it at them, but Arin’s steely look made him think twice. He dropped the rock and ran away.

Arin and Wade stepped back inside. Arin’s son secured the door again.

“I don’t understand,” Wade said. “Why did they act like that? Why were they scared of me?”

“Because of your hair,” Arin said.

“My hair?”

“Your golden hair,” Muiraq affirmed. “The final sign of the Unseen One’s judgment was to be the arrival of a child with golden hair.”

B
ack inside the cottage, Arin began to explain, “When I was a young man, the Unseen One spoke to me.”

“Wait, please,” Wade said. “I still don’t understand who the Unseen One is.”

“The Unseen One is the creator and sustainer of all things. He fashioned us from the earth, breathed life into us, and chose to love us in spite of our rebellion. He exists in your world, I’m sure. Your world would not exist without Him.”

Wade thought about it. “Our ‘Unseen One’ is called ‘God,’ if that’s what you mean.”

“God may be another name for the Unseen One. But in our world, the name
God
is easily confused with the false gods many of the people worship. From the ancient days, we have called Him the Unseen One.”

Wade had never thought much about God. His mother and father were good people who seemed to believe in God. They talked about God when good or bad things happened. But they never took Wade to church or asked him to read the large family Bible that decorated the end table.

Arin continued, “The Unseen One spoke to me—”

“How?” Wade interrupted again.

“How?” Arin seemed perplexed by the question. “The same way one person speaks to another. How else?”

“You heard Him?”

“Yes.”

“A voice,” Wade pressed. “You heard a voice?”

“A voice, yes.
The
voice.”

“What did He sound like?”

Arin frowned impatiently. “I wouldn’t know how to tell you, lad. I’ve never found the words to describe it. Nor could I do an imitation.”

“I’m sorry,” Wade said. “I won’t interrupt you anymore.”

Arin went on, “He told me that the sins of this generation were more than He could stand. The people have given up His truth for their own lies. He’s been repeatedly rejected by His own creation, and He now wishes to begin again. He called me to speak His message of repentance to the people while I built a refuge.”

“You mean the shelter I saw, the one underground.”

Arin affirmed Wade with a nod. “It is our protection when His judgment comes.”

“He
told you
to build the shelter?” Wade still had a difficult time believing that God, or the Unseen One, literally talked to Arin.

“He gave the specific design to me. Every inch, every detail is from Him. I have spent the past 60 years building it. When my sons were old enough, they helped as well.”

“There were animals down there, too,” Wade said.

“The Unseen One told me to gather the animals, to save them from the destruction.”

“What kind of destruction?” Wade’s mind continued to try to sort through these facts.

“I don’t know. That’s something He didn’t care to let me in on.”

Wade glanced around the room. Everyone in the family stared back at him, their eyes drifting at one time or another to his hair. He felt like a freak. He didn’t like being the center of attention. “What about the signs—my ‘golden hair’?” he asked.

“Ah, that,” Arin replied. “The Unseen One told me that the wickedness of His creation would increase throughout my lifetime. Forces of evil would be invited into the hearts of all mankind, destroying their humanity and replacing it with depravity and decadence.”

“That’s always the first thing to go when people turn their backs on the Unseen One,” Muiraq said sadly. “Their humanity.”

“That’s because the Unseen One is the source of our humanity,” Arin agreed. “Once we have dispensed with Him, we have dispensed with our true selves. So what’s left? Men who commit heinous and immoral acts become heroes, giants in the land. Lives become expendable to wicked ideals and causes. We celebrate inhumanity because we no longer understand what it is to be human. Corruption spreads to the very root of mankind’s being. So the Unseen One said He would lay the ax to the root. He would obliterate what He’s created and we—my family and I—would begin anew.”

“That makes you pretty lucky, I guess,” Wade said.

“Lucky? There is no luck. The Unseen One has chosen us. And as is often true of being chosen, sometimes it is a blessing, but other times it is a curse. I have spent most of my life being mocked and ridiculed. What you saw today was only one small incident. We’ve had worse. Much worse.”

“Arin,” Muiraq interjected. “The signs. He asked about the signs.”

“Oh yes,” Arin said, recovering himself. “The signs. One was the wickedness of mankind. Another was mankind’s rejection of the Unseen One for other faiths and idols. A third was the emergence of corrupt leaders, of which we have many, with not a single faithful person among them. The final was the arrival of a golden-haired child in this land of dark-haired individuals. Until you
arrived today, I had always believed it would be a baby. Perhaps one of my sons and his wife would give birth to this golden-haired child. But now you are here.”

“But I’m not from the Unseen One. I’m from America,” Wade said. “Don’t you see? It’s a bizarre coincidence.”

“Wherever you are from, however you came here, I have no doubt that you’re the one. You’re the final sign. It is now only a small matter of time.”

Wade’s mind was reeling. It was all too much to take in. He looked around the room at their faces. Arin and Muiraq wore expressions of a gentle tolerance, as if they understood more about his doubt and confusion than even he knew.

He glanced at the two young men he’d seen at the gate, now sitting on the sofa. They were Pool and Riv, Arin and Muiraq’s second and third sons. Pool was round-faced, like his mother. Riv was slender, with his father’s narrow face and sparkling eyes. Next to them were their wives, Nacob and Hesham. Even though Wade was still too young to like girls much, he appreciated that Nacob and Hesham were pretty. One had straight black hair, dark skin, and penetrating blue eyes; the other had shorter, curly hair, a fairer complexion, and eyes like half moons, as if they were smiling all the time.

Next to the fireplace stood the bearded man who’d come in earlier to tell them about the attack. His name was Oshan. He was the oldest son. He stood quietly while his wife, Etham, sat nearby, knitting an item of clothing. Wade found he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She had an angelic face, with wide eyes and a pleasant mouth that turned upward at the corners, as if she were remembering a joke she couldn’t tell. Her curly dark hair fell like waves upon her shoulders. And there was something about her eyes. She reminded Wade of his mother.

Wade stood up and said firmly, “I tell you I’m not from the Unseen One.” His voice caught in his throat. This didn’t make sense. None of it did. “Excuse me,” he said, then he raced outside to throw up.

When he had wretched as much as he could, Arin appeared with a cup of water for him. He rinsed his mouth, spat, then drank the water in earnest. “Thank you,” he said when he could speak.

“You honestly don’t know what’s happening to you,” Arin said sympathetically.

“No. I want to go home. I want my mother.” He began to cry.

Arin pulled him close in an embrace that, if Wade had closed his eyes, might have been his father’s. “If the Unseen One has brought you here, then perhaps He will take you home, too.”

Wade thought that was a lot to ask a kid to believe, especially one who didn’t believe in the Unseen One. For all he knew, these people were completely insane. Maybe he’d gone insane, too.

Somewhere in the distance, a low pounding filled the air, like someone banging rhythmically on a bass drum. “What’s that?” Wade asked.

“Bombs and antiaerocraft cannons,” Arin replied. “They’re trying to destroy the aeroplanes from Belgarum that are bombing the city.”

Wade was dumbfounded. “You’re being attacked by airplanes?”

“We are at war on all sides,” Arin replied. “There are no neighbors to our country anymore, only enemies.”

“What kind of planes are they? Spitfires? Mustangs? Messerschmitts?”

“We speak the same language, but sometimes I don’t understand a word you say,” Arin said with a chuckle.

“I wonder what kind of planes they are,” Wade said, trying to be more clear.

“I couldn’t tell you. Weapons of destruction never interested me. I couldn’t help but feel that they were yet another indicator that the end is coming.”

“Are we safe here?”

Arin patted the boy on the back. “The Unseen One keeps His promises. We’re safe.”

Wade was taken inside and given clothes that Muiraq had made for Riv when he was Wade’s age. The outfit consisted of long cotton trousers, a shirt of the same style as a T-shirt, and a thin robe with a belt covering both. The trousers had deep pockets on the sides, so as he put them on he carefully folded the papers of the atomic bomb plans and slid them into the left pocket. He then strapped on a pair of leather sandals. Wade was impressed with how comfortable the outfit was, and he said so when he thanked Muiraq.

She blushed a deep crimson. “It’s my honor to provide them for you,” she said. “Now, we’ll be eating dinner shortly, so make yourself at home.

“May I look around?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Wade’s first inclination was to look at the many books on the shelves lining the rooms on the second floor. He was surprised to find that they were printed and bound with a greater quality than any books he’d owned. The reference books—encyclopedias, manuals, and educational texts—had full-color pages and photographs. This was something he’d rarely seen, and only in the most expensive books. The other books covered every topic imaginable: law, medicine, science, the arts, and, mostly, essays and instructions about the Unseen One. Wade skimmed through them all but felt as if they were written in another language. This world—whatever and wherever it was—had a different history from his own. He’d hoped to find an overlap somewhere, something to show that
maybe he wasn’t in a different world after all. But he couldn’t find one, except maybe the being he knew as God and the one they called the Unseen One.

Turning his attention from the books, Wade was curious about the technology of the house. It seemed a lot like his own, until he realized that none of the rooms had power sockets. This wouldn’t have been unusual if they didn’t have electricity, but they did. Or they seemed to. The lights in the guest room had switches on them. As expected, they made the lights go on and off. But something was wrong.

“Don’t you have lights where you come from?” Riv asked when he caught Wade toying with a light in the front room.

“Yes. Just like these,” Wade said. “But your lamps aren’t plugged into the wall.” Wade gestured to the one he had been examining. “See? No wires.”

“Should they have wires?”

“How else would the power get to the lightbulbs?” asked Wade.

“From the sun.”

Wade was confused. “I don’t follow you.”

“The power comes from the sun,” Riv said more slowly. He held up the lamp. On the side was a small, square, silver-colored panel. “This panel receives its power from that panel there.” He pointed to a similar panel discreetly placed on the wall, next to the window.

“Where does that panel get its power?”

“From the larger panel above the house. It captures the rays of the sun and transmits those rays as power throughout the house—all over the compound, in fact.”

“Then you don’t have electricity?” Wade asked, amazed.

Riv laughed. “We haven’t needed electricity for years. It’s considered primitive now, like outdoor toilets.”

“Power from the sun . . .” Wade mused.

“Unfortunately, because the sun has provided so much, people now worship it instead of the Unseen One,” Riv said sadly. “They consider the sun and nature to be the source of life and creation. They no longer believe that the Unseen One provided the natural order to bless us.”

Wade pondered it all through dinner. On one hand, this world gave him the impression of being simpler than his own. On the other hand, it seemed to be more technologically advanced. He couldn’t think of how that was possible. “May I see the city tomorrow?” he suddenly asked. “I’m dying to have a look around.”

“I’m afraid not,” Arin said after swallowing a mouthful of potatoes.

“Why not?”

“Frankly, I’m afraid of what they’ll do to you.”

“Or what you’ll do to them,” Pool added with a chuckle. “You might cause a riot.”

“Then I’m trapped here?”

“You’re
safe
here,” Arin said. “You’re protected here from those who would do you harm or lead you to do harm to others.”

Wade fell into a disappointed silence. What was the point of coming to another world and being stuck inside someone’s compound?

A messenger from the city elders arrived after dinner. He was heavily bearded and as round as a bowling ball.

“The elders have heard about your guest,” the bowling ball said.

“So?” Arin said.

“They want to meet him.”

“Then they are welcome to come here.”

“You know that’s not possible,” the bowling ball replied. “Not since . . . well . . .”

Arin smiled. “Not since I threw them out the last time they came.”

“They’d rather the people did not see them come to you,” the bowling ball said. “It would make them appear as if they were negotiating with you or giving you respect.”

“Which they dare not do,” Arin stated sarcastically.