Chronicles of the Aeons War, page 13
part #3 of The Omniverse Series
♦♦♦
Baxter Vincent started every morning at the station’s Temple, attending services to the Shekhina Mehdi. Here, the El-Ahur remembered their time on the Mountain. Here they prayed to one day return, to live again in the City of Olympus, which grew across the Hidden Face of Mount Umbra in a vast, tiered and staggered horseshoe. The El-Ahur measured day and night differently than the rest of Midian, because the shadows from the peaks of the Queen’s Mount and the Umbra kept the City of the Cliff in shadow until just before Heket crossed the sky’s median towards the South. Their day was at its brightest as Heket crossed North again and Heruba began to rise in the West, filling part of the sky for most of the night as Midian went around the gas giant’s dark side. Heruba would appear to cartwheel through the sky, chasing around the horizon. For over a thousand years Baxter Vincent had prayed for the same thing: to be able to return to Citadel of Olympus, to once more feel the stone of its streets beneath his feet. He knew as well that he still had many long years ahead of him before he could. The Aeons War was far from over, far from won. And Baxter’s duty was great for he had been chosen to train the Grandmaster’s past self to become him. He hoped he was up to the task for it meant the end of Humankind if he failed.
Sometimes he wondered whether their prayers were meant for the Queen of Light and Sorrow, or the Forgotten God that some believed She served. Baxter believed that the Forgotten God was the same God the Abrahamics worshipped, though he knew most disagreed. They pointed to the fact that the God the Queen followed was a woman, sometimes referred to as the Great Mother on Old Earth. Baxter didn’t believe that a God had to necessarily be man or woman, or either; if the God of the Abrahamics or any God did actually exist. But like the Lost Races of the Old League, the Gods seemed to have deserted the cosmos. Baxter also sometimes wondered if the Queen of Light and Sorrow might have left them as well. He feared that She might already be gone...dead or simply no longer there...He’d felt lost since the Grandmaster’s death and Benedict’s Past Self was nothing like he’d imagined him to be. He was shaken by the embellished rage radiating from Benedict. Baxter Vincent had expected a dutiful, noble soldier, almost expecting a Knight from the Old Earth legends and tales his parents had told him as a child. He wasn’t sure he could help Benedict become the man he had known, the leader he had followed; and so he prayed to the Queen for the strength and wisdom to be able to do so.
Harbour Command contacted him as he was leaving the Temple. His cartouche chimed and the image of the Fleet Lieutenant appeared before him, visible to his eyes only.
“Commodore, Dockworks have completed service and supply on the Ouroboros. Fleet Command requests your presence to discuss your next excursion.”
“I’ll call my Second to meet me at Command.”
“Commodore, they request that the Voyager be present, as well.”
Baxter nodded.
“As you say, Fleet Lieutenant,” he said.
♦♦♦
Fleet Command had the best natural view of the Harbour from Bloom’s Point. Built into the highest portion of the trunk stem of the station, it boasted a wide balcony and a high wall of transparent metal alloys that let the light from the vast facility shine perpetually into the vaulted room. A crescent-shaped table stretched like horns around the circular room. Baxter and Heihachi stood at attention to either side of Benedict in the center of the room, as the Fleetmasters, dressed in their uniforms of ceremony and rank, entered or and sat or appeared via holographic transmission in their seats before them. Three chairs began to rise from the floor behind Baxter, Benedict and Heihachi, forming from the floor itself.
“Gentlemen, please be seated.” One of the Fleetmasters said. Fleetmistress Kaplan, one of the rippling holograms, addressed Benedict. “It is an honour to meet you, Mission Commander,” she said, “The path ahead of you is not an easy one; but we give you our thanks and praise for what is to come.”
“Sure, great;” Benedict replied, noncommittally. The Fleetmasters exchanged glances and curious expressions. Baxter sympathized with their befuddlement; Heihachi was nervous and Benedict couldn’t have cared any less. After a prolonged silence, Kaplan continued:
“Commodore Baxter Vincent, the Fleetmasters have convened and our orders are as follows: You will depart at the next available window for Anuket Station, first to rendezvous with and take command of the fleet and then to proceed to Midian and deliver the Voyager to the Temple, where the Queen’s Council will meet with him.”
“The Voyager?” Benedict sneered, “That’s what you’re calling me? Goddamn, in the stories it’s always the Chosen One or some stupid shit like that.”
Kaplan ignored him, though the other four Fleetmasters were watching Benedict now.
“I imagine these orders are not unexpected, Commodore,” the Fleetmistress said, “And neither is our decision that Benedict is to be trained as an officer of the Phenex El-Ahur.”
Benedict leaned forward. “Excuse me,” he said, irritably, “But I don’t think I’m subject to your orders. I’m not one of your El-Ahur space cadets and unless I’m wrong my tour of duty was up fifteen hundred years ago. And the way you people have been talking about me I get the impression you need me a fuck of a lot more than I need you.”
Kaplan regarded Benedict calmly, but there was a cold light in her eyes. “You are correct, Mission Commander,” she said, “We do need you; more than you can fathom. However, you need us as well. You need us if you want to avenge the deaths of all those you lost to the Zohor. You need us to help you ensure that those who died didn’t do so in vain; you need us, because we are their legacy – and yours.”
“I have one last question,” Benedict said, “If you can answer it to my satisfaction, I’ll consider joining your band of merry men.”
“What is your question?”
“My future self told you he came back from the end of the Aeons’ War. But, did he ever once mention who won the war? Did he ever actually come out and say that we did?”
Imagination plays a key role in the developing minds of all intelligent Beings; no Race evolves without it. Even the Zohor and the Nimbus, in their own ways, possessed the ability to Imagine. But it is not merely what a Race can Imagine that is important, but what it cannot imagine, as well. For it is only at the limits of Imagination that a Race can truly begin to evolve.
FIVE
COMES THE BURNING STORM
The air that morning was cold; the wind coming from the Southwest. Hundreds of kilometres beyond the Blue Mountains, the continent narrowed and curved away East, forming the massive Gulf of Southgate. The great bay was bordered on one side by the sea and on its two others by the mountains and hilly bluffs. Known as the Southlands, the small, isolated mariner nation had closer ties to the Sinai than to Terra Nova. Decker Marius imagined that he could faintly smell the salt of the Southern Ocean in the breeze as the El-Ahur sat meditating at the mouth of the Djed. But there was nearly two thousand kilometres between him and the Southlands; the salt had long since been washed from the air. Grigori and the rest of their team had arrived late last night, leaving the city right after the Gathering of the Dream ended.
After meditation the El-Ahur would breakfast and head into the Djed Pass. As their team broke camp Decker and Grigori went to the mouth of the Pass. Both were tired; the whole camp had stayed up to watch Thalia rise into the sky over Landing. While the men and women under their command went to bed to attempt sleep after seeing Thalia for themselves Grigori and Decker stayed up late into the night watching the burning moon cross the sky.
“I want to make camp at Diamond Lake before night,” Decker said now, “It’s still a half a day’s hike from there to the Citadel.”
“And even longer from the foot of the Eastern Face to Diamond Lake,” Grigori objected, “Not counting the worst parts of the Djed before it, or the fact that we don’t know how the last thousand or so years have affected the terrain.”
“Then if the sun sets north before we reach Diamond Lake, we’ll keep climbing,” Decker said, “The Zohor are nearly here, Grigori. When they get here, when they reach Midian they will bombard the planet. They won’t stop until every last man, woman and child on Midian are dead. But the Zohor aren’t here yet. If we can reach the Queen, if we can Wake Her before they arrive...”
Grigori shook her head. “You told me you have doubts about what we’ll find in the Keep.”
“I do. But if there is even the slightest chance that what the Shekhina Mehdi Promised us is true, if She does truly Sleep and if She can do even half of all that the Scriptures and our own failed memories say she did the Queen of Light and Sorrow is our best hope; she’s our only hope, Myrym.”
“We’d have to climb hard to get there so soon.”
“We’ll climb hard, then.”
Grigori balked. “We’ll be risking everyone’s lives that way.”
“We are El-Ahur. Our lives are dedicated to serving the Queen of Light and Sorrow. The risk if we fail to reach Diamond Lake by then is far worse.”
“As you say,”
♦♦♦
No one had slept; how could they? Father was dead and Thalia had burned red across the night to herald his death. Acshah and her brothers and sisters made their way down to the common room in silence; Mother had stayed at the Temple overnight; with her duties as the Handmaid and the last minute affairs to settle for Father’s funeral it just made more sense for her to rest in her Cloister instead of making the return trip to the Estate. It fell to Katherine and Michael to serve as Family Matriarch and Patriarch for Father’s Final Departure from home.
Father had been groomed and dressed, laid out in the night in the ceremonial robes of the High Priest of the Shrine of Stone. Michael and Katherine performed the Rites of Departure, assisted by Acolytes from Father’s Shrine. The sky was overcast when they left the House. Acshah could smell the rain in the air; hear their every shuffling step from the house and across the gravel of the drive. She was glad for the clouds; they provided shelter from the sky. Thalia passed around Midian twice in a cycle. During the day when Thalia passed overhead it was a dark shadow. News reports said that where visible in Terra Nova today, the moon would appear as red as a burning ember.
The family left the house, walking down the slope from the door proceeding ahead of Father’s casket. At the gate onto the main drive sat a large pod, hired for the day to take them from the Estate to the Temple. Father’s remains were taken aboard first, then the Acolytes, then Michael and Katherine and then the rest of the family. A second, larger pod waited for the overflow of aunts, uncles, cousins and friends who were coming for the Rites of Father’s funeral.
Acshah was too numb to do more than simply observe and remember what was going on around her; she felt as though she were just a passenger in her own skin. From far away Acshah was impatient that yet another prayer had to be said before the pod could leave. The walls of the pod were made transparent inside, allowing them to see out on the world. From the roadway the pod appeared a sleek capsule of polished blue chrome. They rode in silence, most everyone contemplating Father. Those not meditating kept shooting furtive glances into the sky. Would Thalia be visible like a light behind a veil of fog? Acshah found herself watching a little of everything: the traffic outside; her family; Father’s body, resting atop a cushioned cot that would be covered before he was cremated at the end of the day. Acshah had a seat near his feet, and kept staring at the unruly scuffs and wear in the tread on his shoes. It seemed comical and almost disrespectful, but, she knew, they had been his favorite shoes so it stood to reason he would want to have worn them for his final mortal journey. Every now and again she spied the sun Heket, an indistinct blur of light beyond the cloud cover. She wondered what else was hiding on the other side of those clouds. She prayed she never found out.
As the pod climbed the Temple Mount roadway, they found themselves facing the approach, watching as the Temple Compound came into view at the summit of the tributary hill of the Blue Mountains. The road to the Queen’s Temple had been laid out this way, so that anyone travelling towards it would watch the Temple climb the horizon to the East, like the sun of Old Earth. Acshah turned her head southwards, looking at the distant Sister Mountains; the Queen’s Mount and the Umbra. Their summits were high above the cloud line. Acshah wondered if the Shekhina Mehdi had truly lived in some hidden keep deep in the mountains and what she would think of the world as it looked, now. The pod was slowing, pulling off the main highway and climbing Temple Drive now.
The high Temple Walls of blue stone had been hand-carved from the rock of the mountains nearly twelve hundred years before. They loomed, large and foreboding, surrounding the vast Temple complex on all sides to a height of three meters. The pod banked, curving around the five-sided outer wall of the Compound towards the Gate of Stone. Each Face or side of the Temple Wall had its own Gate. Each Gate opened onto the grounds of a different Shrine, each Shrine serving a different function within the complex hierarchy of Temple of the Way. The Five Shrines were the Shrine of the Rose, the Shrine of Stone, the Shrine of the Star and the Shrine of the Earth and the Shrine of Water. At the heart of all Five Shrines was the Shrine of the Queen. The Five Shrines served the Shrine of the Queen, their High Priesthoods making up the Queen’s Council.
The Shrine of the Queen was built on an island in the center of a great artificial lake. The Shrine was reached across one of Five Bridges, each Bridge leading away from a different outer Shrine. This central Shrine was literally the Heart of the Way. The Queen’s Court housed the Queen’s Seat and the Council. The Handmaid’s Cloister was there, as well. Acshah knew she wouldn’t see Mother again until the end of the day, when Father was presented before the Queen’s Seat for the Final Rites, but she longed to see her now.
The pod slowed as they reached the Gate of Stone, which opened as the pod passed. Halting just inside the Wall the pod docked and opened. The funeral procession left the pod in the reverse order that they’d gone aboard, forming an honor line for Father’s bier, which was removed last. After the pod left another prayer was said and then they walked Father’s remains up to the Shrine of Stone itself. The funeral would start here, in the Shrine to which Father had dedicated his life and service in the Temple of the Way. The Shrine of the Rose dealt with all matters relating to life and death and so when the ceremonies at the Shrine of Stone ended the funeral would move across the inner courtyard from one Shrine to the other before finally being taken to the Shrine of the Queen for the Final Dedications.
Acshah had never been to a funeral; they were rare events on Midian, though not nearly rare enough. People still succumbed to disease, accident, or rarely, malfeasance. She knew all the steps and rites that would unfold today; she’d learned them during her time of study at Temple. She hoped to never see another funeral again and wished she didn’t have to witness this one. As they crossed from the iron gray sky into the dim, candlelit interior of the Shrine of Stone the world as Acshah had always known was broken by a sudden and violent explosion; a deafening roar that thundered like the Incarnation of Death from the sky.
♦♦♦
The Djed Pass had fared well over the centuries. The rock was worn smoother from the winds and changing seasons, but the narrow channel between the summit ridge of the Santino and the base of the Umbra was largely intact. The Pass would be the easiest part of the climb, at least until the Channels. To Grigori it was all uncharted territory. She’d been an infant when they’d left the Umbra and all she remembered of it was sleeping in a sling at her mother’s breast.
Decker felt as if he’d stepped into a forgotten dream; it was all so familiar but only the barest of memory of this place remained. They’d been forbidden by long order to never climb beyond the foothills; not until the Aeon’s War came to Midian. Now they were in the gloom of the Umbra, the Mountain of Shadow. Decker remembered that some parts of the trail they followed would be as dark as night all the time, the sky never seen in those places. Over time these dark places became the stuff of lore and legend; stories written and told long ago embellished beyond any recognition of truth. Decker was curious to cross through a Dark Place again. They were coming up on a ridge from which they’d be able to see the Queen’s Mount over the Umbra’s shoulder; once past that rise they’d climb into one such Dark Place, an ancient cavern that snaked its way through the side of the Santino. Their lenses would provide all the light they would need when it grew too dark for their El-Ahur-enhanced eyesight.
