Two
thousand years ago a planet was paid a visit by a Galactic Council emissary. It led to the greatest story ever told, as written
here by Sky Rivers.
The Immortality Man
HERE
IS THE FIRST HALF….
1
The
eagle shifted uneasily from one leg to another on the craggy ledge. Behind her in the eerie were two young and
hungry mouths to feed. She tilted her
head one way, then another before launching herself into the air. Spreading her great wings she dropped like a
stone towards the valley floor a thousand feet below.
Pulling out of her descent fifty feet
above the ground she skimmed along the the valley, gliding on extended
wings. Her eyes darted left, right, up
and down. She soared up and over the
huge metallic object, tilting her head curiously as she did so but continuing
on down over the escarpment. The
metallic object was of no interest to her.
She had mouths to feed.
From inside the metallic object Saron
looked out through the observation panel.
The eagle soared away into the distance.
He leaned back in his chair and relaxed, enjoying a feeling of
pleasure. He had chosen to rest for a
few days in the mountains before embarking on the long journey across the
cosmos.
It gave him time to complete his report. There was time to check out the spaceship's
systems too. The nearest advanced
habitation was Baluvi so the ship needed to be in good order.
It was a good feeling. To be returning to modern civilisation as he
knew it and with the report of a mammoth task done well. Had it really taken just one year? One year of this planet's time, anyway. He was not leaving without some misgivings.
Some planet this one. It could have a great future with the right
guidance. Strange how he had taken to
it. A year ago he had by no means
relished the prospect of conducting a planet-monitoring update task. However, he had been summoned by the Sidereal
Council no less, a command channelled down to him through the sub‑council
Intergalactic Integration Section. He
had not had a lot of choice. It had been
a command.
In any case, he had been one of the few
Palteans in Sector 9 at that time and possibly, the only one sufficiently
qualified and experienced to take on the task of providing a thorough ecological
assessment of an entire, inhabited planet.
He had been steeped in research in Trac 7
of the Galactic Sector 9 at the time he had received the order. His work had been part of a developmental
study on the Skorina people - their language and culture. Typically this was
one of his duties as a Galactic Environmental Councillor but it happened to be
one of his more favoured projects - participating in the ongoing studies of
anthropological development in various parts of the galaxy.
He was one of the many who played their
parts in the Universal Anthropological Development Project (UADP) launched by
the Sidereal Council some hundreds of years ago. It had been launched with high but achievable
goals: the hope and aim that one day there could be an acceptable code of
sociological standards for the whole of the galaxy and the basic requirement
was a common language throughout the 30 or so galactic Sectors.
It had been decided all those aeons ago
that the future of galactic development depended on a transgalactic
language. The present system of
intergalactic communication through the photon interphase had been in use for
many thousands of years but would be superseded in the fullness of time by
natural evolution. The UADP was an
integral and important part of accelerating that process.
The instructions had been clear, `Planet
25.9.3, orbiting star Ra, is due for its periodic sociological
assessment'. It was to be Saron's task
to do this and the time for it to be completed would be one planet orbit of
star Ra, that is, one year in the planet's own timescale. Saron had put his
work on Skorina into meson store for future retrieval, so that the work could
be continued when the new project for planet 25.9.3. was completed. He had contacted Paltea's central
computerised information store for known data on this 25.9.3 world, one of
which, he had to admit, was unknown to him.
Saron knew that he would have to seek his
information from there. He contacted
Hadron, a phason-powered brain, by keying in his personal communicator and
telecommunicating his request, but he knew that he would have to wait until he
returned to his personal galactic ship, Takara, before he could have access to
the data which he would need to assimilate.
Hadron was a thinking neural-networked hypercomputer. It was the ultimate source of wisdom for the
galactic masters the Sidereal Council as well as the database for all known
information on the entire galaxy.
He soon reached Takara and entering, made
for the communications room. There,
already on the consol was a visual display indicating that the data he had
requested was available. He clipped his
transfer discs to his head, fixing them just behind his ears and spoke to the
communicator. Saron knew that his request
had been automatically tested on Paltea for authenticity and accreditation and
that the data was now available to him assuming the voice recognition
interrogator would accept his voice validation.
"Saron, ready for data transfer."
The communicator compared his voice
characteristics with the analysis that had accompanied the data it had been
sent and responded silently. Within the space of several minutes it had
transfered the entire contents of Hadron's transmitted information file on
planet 25.9.3 into the depths of his brain.
Although instantly conveyed to Saron's
memory for storage, the information needed, as did all similarly transmitted
material, time. Time to be fully
absorbed by, what was after all, however advanced only the human organ of the
recipient. Saron relaxed and gave his brain, his intelligence, his intellect
and his sub‑conscious mind and brain cells, time to assimilate and
accommodate the brain cell changes that the mefluoric energy would bring about
before leaving each cell with a new packet of essential information.
The data criss‑crossed his brain's
neural network from cerebrum to cerebellum, from memory to intelligence,
intelligence to reason, back to memory for conclusion storage..... "planet
3, situated in Trac 9 of Sector 25 is known to the Sidereal Council. It has various names according to the
language of the tribe, the tribes making up a population of some 2 million.
Its source of prime energy is the star Ra. It has an orbit with a precise and constant
apogee and perigee related to Ra and other bodies within its galactic trac, the
orbiting time known as the year. The
companion planets orbiting Ra have differing apogees, perigees and orbit times
or years.
"In its year, planet 3 itself rotates
about its own axis 365.242 times, each rotation giving a period of light and a
period of darkness to most of its surface area.
The orbit is oval and eccentric and the planet's axis has a tilt of 23
degrees relative to its orbital path. These factors combined give it four
distinct climatic phases or seasons.
"The land masses, which had previously
been in a state of instability some 100 million years ago, are now in a stable
condition but the surface land mass migration has led to the evolution of
various diverse races of people. Distinct languages also have evolved with the
different races of people but the language base is adequate for the
photontranslator.
"Various culture forms and beliefs in
various mystic powers originating outside the planet itself have
materialised. The last ecological
assessment took place 500 years ago but arranged surveillance visits have taken
place from time to time in accordance with Hadron's instructions based on
programmed intelligence gathering. Life
form is physically similar to the prefered humanoid and intellectually similar
to the way Paltean culture was several million years ago. Civilisation rating is currently similar to
Telga, Poligny and Manno in Trac 9, Sarg and Garlin in Trac 8..." the data
went on for almost 50 planets in the galaxy and Saron's conscious concentration
wandered away from the activity within his brain which he let slip into the
subconscious. He began to formulate a
plan of approach to his new task, a task that was scheduled to last at least
one orbital period, a whole year.
"...... the planet's year comparison
with Paltea's is that one Paltean year is almost equivalent to two years of
planet 25.9.3. Close enough to use as a practical working yardstick. Life expectancy of the inhabitants, however,
is less than one tenth that of a Paltean at 70 planet years...... "
The command had been given one year
ago. Now his task, the initial contact
with Terrea, his investigative work and report were completed. Saron was more
than satisfied because of the way he had systematically dealt with the
project. He could recall having located
planet 25.9.3 from the galactic atlas and seen the visuals on his console. He had programmed Takara with the coordinates
and not long afterwards had followed a gluon‑powered intragalactic
transfer before having his first glimpse of a planet that had turned out to be
his home base for a whole Terrean year.
Saron spun round in his chair and spoke to
his voice‑sensitive control console.
"Prepare for transit to Paltea.
Retrograde navigational data planet 3 Trac 9, sector 25".
The control console instantly glowed pale
blue indicating its readiness for further instructions and that the verbal
instructions were inputted and the system primed.
"Proceed to Paltea" Saron commanded.
He turned towards the observation window of
his ship. Below, he saw the planet, one
for which he had begun to develop an unusual fondness, recede. At first the
ship accelerated slowly up to mass critical zero speed dictated by the human
body tolerance. Hitting negative photon
speed, almost in an instance, Terrea vanished as if it had never existed.
Takara was soon well into its transit
path, silently but powerfully cruising through the galaxy, taking its
navigational data from selected galactic bodies and stars, now heading for one
and then changing its direction to locate another. Skirting past planets here, an asteroid there
and avoiding cosmic dust and debris along the way, much time would pass before
it would arrive at Paltea, but Saron knew he could spend the time
usefully. He would have the opportunity
to recall and reflect on some of the details of his recent experiences on
25.9.3. and refresh his memory on most of the events that had taken place over
the last Terrean four seasons. He would
be asked on his arrival to give a full and systematic account of the past year
at his debriefing session with Salik, his line sub‑Sidereal. All the information was as a matter of
routine stored in a molecular positron capsule, but verbal interpretations of
accumulated data were always required as standard procedure.
He put his feet up on the console top as he
slowly shook his head. It now hardly
seemed like one year since that day he had requested Takara to enter an
observation proximity orbit and activate the light‑energy absorber at
level 3, to prevent the ship from being seen from the planet by its stellar
light reflection.
The first view he had had of the planet had
been quite impressive. The spherical
planet possessed an incredible natural beauty not often seen among the galactic
worlds, either the inhabited or the uninhabited, even by an experienced
galactic traveller like Saron. It had an
overall blue and white appearance with touches of orange haze picked out here
and there by its distant orange‑yellow star Ra. The white clouds, sprinkled with haze‑blue
grey, formed irregular designs over the planet's surface, almost imperceptibly
moving in everchanging patterns.
Having put his ship into a low orbit angled
to the planet's axis, so that successive orbits would enable him to scan
different swaths of the surface area, he could not help but admire how accurate
the scapecharts of 25.9.3., supplied in printout form teletransmitted from
Hadron, had been. He had activated his
biomacroscanner and studied the information.
It had indicated enormous variations in human and animal life. The humans were all similar in physical
stature and remarkably similar to Palteans but differed from each other in skin
colouring and, the indications were, in culture also. The degree of development of the various
groups varied widely and seemed to depend on the particular land mass on which
they were to be found. The long strip
which stretched from one of the planet's rotational axis points to the other
seemed to be populated with reddish‑brown skinned races with tribal
cultures and structured societies.
Across the blue ocean the main land mass had peoples of varying skin
colours from brown to yellow to white, with what appeared to be more advanced
cultures and ways of life. Another
continent appeared to be populated almost entirely by black skinned people, but
this continent appeared to be almost completely detached from other land
masses.
After many hours of stand-off remote
scanning, Saron had switched off his biomacroscanner and had considered his
position. As he had seen the task ahead
of him, it was basically of two parts; a visually recorded electro‑scan
of the planet, from various positional references, and personal observation and
fact gathering at ground level. For the
latter, he had known he would have to be programmed for the particular language
of the region and would have to absorb the analyzed data on habits and social
behaviour of the people amongst whom he would go. The rest would depend on his superior
intelligence and his collomatric energy controller which would enable him to
control his own immediate environment, if need be, and the behaviour of other
nearby persons if needed for defensive or survival purposes.
His leptoanalyser was activated and
directed towards the edge of the central land mass where the green forests
swept down to the azure‑blue sea.
Soon it gave a graphic display of the regional populace. People with slits for eyes, yellow skin, jet
black straight hair, and, on the males, long, thin, drooping hair which grew on
their upper lips and often, also from their chins.
Saron had looked at the faces knowing that
soon he would be subtly disguised to look like one of them. This method of getting to know a race of
people by a form of integration was not new to him. He had had to do the same thing on many other
planetary visits. It sometimes posed a
problem when the life form was very different from the humanoid form, but there
on planet 25.9.3. there were hardly any problems, if any at all. The zetalator
took care of the physical changes necessary so that he could mingle with the
people unhindered.
He smiled as he recalled preparing himself
for the zetalator treatment and for extravehicular involvement, clipping on his
communicator and strapping his biolite and a class 1 collomator, for which he
was classified as `entitled', to the belt around his waist. He had stepped into the zetalatoric booth
looking forward to his first visit to planet Terrea.
He could still remember that day almost one
year ago ..........
2
Caldorosh
the Galactic Sidereal Quantum sat at the end of the large Federation Council
chamber table. There was time yet before
he would be joined by the 30 other council members, the Sector Leaders, for
this yearly meeting which took place between the heads of the galactic sectors
who between them kept the galaxy in good order and organised its development.
Pilure the Deputy Quantum and Dqu and Maron, the two sub‑Deputy Quantums,
would be in attendance for this meeting also.
As well as being a Deputy Sidereal
Quantum, Pilure was also the Leader of Sector 3, one of the founder member
sectors when the Galactic Federation Council was formed many thousands of years
ago. Pilure had a long and faithful
service record as a member of the Federation Council and was being groomed to
succeed Caldorosh as the head of the galaxy.
He was to be the next Sidereal Quantum.
The daylight, warm in appearance only,
flooded the atmospherically-controlled room, filtering in through the optically
controlled translucent towering white glass walls of the chamber. From where he was sitting Caldorosh could
see, through the transparent zones of the walls, the breathtaking landscape of
Atraka the capital and one of the loveliest cities of the Federation Master
Planet Paltea. It rolled out before him
in a mixture of green, blue, brown and gold.
The beautiful environmental development of the area, with its perfect
blend of landscape and climate, served as an ideal example of the achievements
of the galactic environmentalists. And
as a model for many of the 200 or so environmentally controlled planet worlds
in the galaxy to follow.
Many of the remaining populated planets
had not yet reached the stage when environmental control was either feasible or
desirable. In time to come, they too
would have their environments and atmospheres controlled as they would their
energy utilisation, climates, population growth and cultural direction. This
was the way the galaxy was run for the benefit of the galaxy as a whole.
The report on planet 25.9.3 that had been
submitted by the Galactic Environmental Councillor Saron had been taken in by
Caldorosh with great interest. He had
mentally tuned in to the hadronispheric computer known universally as Hadron,
using thransfert.
The thransfert process, a way of
communicating by thought, was a common ability that most of the Federation
establishment personnel had. Controlled
by the user through his or her own personal thought code, one had to think
positively of the personal code to switch into the system. If the positive thought of the personal code
was not made, the thoughts of anyone with the power stayed private. They were
impenetrable by others although all those with this ability and in a state of
privacy would remain sensitive to the attempts by others to make thought‑contact,
by a development of what was once some crude extrasensory perception.
Caldorosh had used his thought transfer
ability to absorb the Hadron‑held report and assimilate its contents,
after which he was able to recall details of the report at will and think out
many of the implications of what he had received. He had also thought‑commanded Hadron to
produce hard copies of the report for use at this Council meeting.
He was intrigued by it all. The pattern of development on planet 25.9.3.
was almost a parallel of planet 8.11.5 some 1000 years ago. This, of course, had been pointed out to him
by Hadron, flagged within the related hard‑copy of the report presented
at his command. A report on the action
taken under the 8.11.5 project, which had a dedicated name of Onward, and the
rated level of success, was produced for Caldorosh to consult if he so
desired.
The
luminescent green panel inset in the table in front of Caldorosh pulsated in
light intensity. Although deep in
thought, he looked up, sensing that someone was trying to contact him by
thransfertance. He placed his hand on
the pulsating panel and, simultaneously, thought his personal, general entry,
thought‑code number.
"Hello, Caldorosh. You seemed to be miles away" came the
message. Caldorosh recognised the `voice' of his correspondent which was always
received by the receptor of the thoughts in exactly the same tone, resonance
and timbre as if the sender were in actual voice contact. It was Pilure.
"Greetings, Pilure" thought
Caldorosh as his eyes alighted on Pilure sitting at the far end of the huge
table.
As Caldorosh thought‑greeted Pilure
he raised his hand in a gentle gesture and Pilure did likewise in mutual
acknowledgment. They stayed in thought‑contact
and exchanged views on a number of items relevant to the Federation business in
a general sense and on Sector 3 in particular, taking advantage of the quiet
opportunity before too many council members arrived. They also slipped easily into a generalised
exchange of views for a short time.
Soon however the seats around the table
were filled by Council members and their aides, some members placing their
hands on their Hadron panels as soon as they arrived in order to greet
Caldorosh, Pilure and other fellow‑members. Words were unnecessary and none was spoken at
this stage but all were aware of the pleasant interchange of greetings and many
heads were nodded to old friends of many years standing and hands were raised
in gentle salutes of acknowledgement to each other.
A short while after all the council
chamber seats were filled Caldorosh placed his hand on his Hadron panel and
formally welcomed everyone on common thransfertance. Remaining in thransfert mode, he outlined in
general terms the business for this session, which was to last for two, or
maybe three, days, but more if more were needed. There were three planetary environmental
modification projects, ten interplanetary disputes with which to make some
headway, if not settle since none was of a particularly serious nature, one
planetary destruction proposal caused by the planet's redundancy and two
planets which were due for molecular impregnation with a view to its leading
to, eventually, some form of life form materialisation and development into
higher animal life forms in the coming millennia.
Although there was a lot on the agenda,
much of the session was routine and the items tended to end in formal
agreement. There never was much
dissention since all the members were normally fully briefed on the session's
business well before the meeting itself, through the galactic communications
network and Hadron. This strategy meant
that well before the actual meeting, ideas and viewpoints on the specific
session's business had already been interchanged across the cosmos with a
consensus already reached for most, if not all, of the business.
And this was how the business was dealt
with throughout the first two days and into the third when the prospect of
dealing with planet 25.9.3 came up.
As was also normal at these, and many
similar, meetings, thransfertance was not used after the preliminary details
were outlined and, at this meeting, the changeover to verbal communication had
taken place after the opening address by Caldorosh in which he had outlined the
agenda. Verbal communication did not
give rise to any problems since the multiple function panels in front of each
seated person served to carry the voices of the individual speakers to every
other member. The voice of whoever spoke
was carried to every listener perfectly in his or her language and at the level
and speed of the listener's choice.
Caldorosh opened the discussion on the
item of planetary sociological modification deemed necessary by Hadron for
planet 25.9.3.
"Fellow Councillors" he said
drawing in their attention, "we come now to the problem of planet 25.9.3
which is in your sector, Metron".
He nodded in the direction of the
handsome, fair‑haired man who sat in the third seat along on the left of
the table. Metron lifted his eyebrows in an acknowledgement of Caldorosh's
remark.
"All the factors relating to this case
indicate to Hadron the necessity of adopting a policy similar to that used for
planet 8.11.5, which became universally known as Nran." Caldorosh
continued. "To refresh your
memories on that project, we set on the planet an implant in a form identical to
that of a native Nranian programmed for maximum anthropological and theological
effect." He paused. "The
implant was engineered to fit the form of the Nranians' long‑awaited
physical manifestation of their own theological beliefs - in other words, what were
and are known as gods in primitive societies.
This implant, with its attendant monitoring, controlled the course of
Nranian history for 1000 zurns. There is
need now to similarly influence the course of development on planet
25.9.3."
Caldorosh waited for a few long seconds
before looking towards Metron.
"Your views are awaited with
anticipation, Metron. We already have
your general strategy on Hadron printout, but we would like to hear about the
tactical details which, I understand, have been formulated at a late
stage."
Metron allowed a gentle smile to appear on
his lips as he looked towards Caldorosh who had been very diplomatic in his
last remark and it remained there as he looked around at the members seated
around the table. He knew all of them to
a greater or lesser degree, having served on the Council for many, many zurns.
"We have come a long way since the
event on planet 8.11.5" Metron opened his address in an unhurried manner
and continued in the same vein. "And we have taken the success that was
achieved there as a model for the modified versions used for other
planets. However, planet 25.9.3. is
inhabited by a race of beings similar to ourselves and although the
civilisation is many, many thousands of zurns behind us in terms of scientific
and sociological development, the people of the planet are undoubtedly of a
high primitive intelligence rating. I
have studied the report of GEC Saron, the Galactic Environmental Councillor responsible
for the latest periodic study of the planet and discussed with him his in situ
experiences at some length.” Metron
paused to take a sip of water before continuing. "It is my considered opinion that any influence
we seek to impose on this planet, as a result of Hadron's directive, will have
to be far more subtle and far more sophisticated in its application than any we
have imposed on any planet hitherto."
Metron's fellow council members looked at
him with interest. The sessions,
although thought by everyone to be essential for the well‑being of the
galaxy, could be very routine and it had to be admitted, often somewhat dull
and tedious. Anything out of the
ordinary run of things was welcomed by most of the members. The opening of Metron's address looked
promising and heads tilted, eyes were raised and, in many subtle ways, they
moved, shuffled and changed their sitting postures to give more attention to
what they anticipated Metron was going to say... something interesting?
"May I be allowed to digress into the
realms of technical and historical detail for a few moments" Metron requested knowing full well that no
one was likely to object. "Planet
25.9.3. has been observed by the Department of Planetary Development for many
galactic orbits. The planet is some 500
million of its own time years old and rotates about its energy source twice in
a Paltean year. The planet has an
elliptical orbit and an axial tilt of 23 degrees to its orbital path and this
combination gives its temperate regions four distinct seasons with temperature
variations from extremely cold to extremely hot, both extremes being such that
in certain areas of the planet human life cannot survive."
The members around the table were enjoying
the discourse of Metron who went on. "These climatic variations over the
planet have caused the indigenous inhabitants to become diverse in skin colour,
degree of sociological development, behavioral patterns and so on." He
again took a sip of water.
"What is not well known, since it is
so far back in our galactic history, is that the planet was originally chosen
as one of our life form development areas.
The planet, some 3 million Paltean zurns ago, or 6 million of its own
time years, was implanted with primitive forms of human life and some thousands
of years before that implanted with many and various animal life forms from
time to time, for compatibility experimentation. The aims were then and still are today to see
how specific types of human and animal life forms can coexist, survive, develop
and advance in, and the humans eventually migrate from, a resourceful but
finite environment. Planet 25.9.3. is of
course but one of many such experiments going on today in our galaxy, albeit
with different permutations of animal and plant species, eh," he added
quietly, "as I'm sure you all know."
There was no doubt that Metron's words
surprised quite a few, although in most cases only mildly, since many of the
council members were well aware of the galactic life development projects.and
experiments. They considered them as a
natural and normal part of galactic progress but did not normally take any more
than a passing interest.
"Many parts of 25.9.3." Metron
went on, "are today populated by particularly gregarious races, one of
which has long held the belief much like the Nranians that a manifestation will
one day take place. This race is bound
by great religious faith and I would judge this to be the result of the work of
Griss some 500 years ago. The people
await the manifestation that they believe will come in the form of a God‑like
man, to free them from the oppression they have suffered for hundreds of years
in one form or another and I, my fellow councillors, propose to give them their
man-God or heavenly messenger."
Metron paused to let the full meaning of
what he had just said become apparent to all those around the table, many of
whom nodded their heads and `mm‑mm‑ed' noises of agreement to those
sitting adjacent.
"The subtlety of my approach"
Metron continued, "is that the man‑God, or to use the term the
inhabitants themselves use, Messiah, will be one of the planet's own, natural‑born,
inhabitants, but" he said, pausing
once again to emphasise his next sentence, "the very seed from which"
he repeated for extra emphasis "the natural-born inhabitant will grow,
will be biogenetically engineered here on Paltea and transferred to one of the
planet's child bearers by sicron‑coding and mu‑activation."
Everyone paid attention as Metron now
added "The seed will have a normal gestation period for the humans of that
planet while the male child, for male it has to be, will have a normal birth
and upbringing. Thus the child will
become a man designed, and from time to time tutored, by us, but importantly, reared
by its own people."
One could see by the activity of some of
Metron's fellow council members that they had questions on their minds and they
hurriedly scribbled notes. Some
physically wrote on the panel in front of them, some put their thoughts
verbally into the recall facility also incorporated in their panels. The questions, however, would have to wait
until the appropriate and allotted time.
Metron had not yet finished and went on
explaining his plan. "He" he
stressed, "will have powers that, although fairly rudimentary by our
standards, will seem miraculous to his contemporaries. And" he added, rising to the sense of
drama his speech seemed to be creating, "there is more. Two other factors will play important parts
in my project: the birth itself will attract great attention; and the child
will be made aware of his special role in the planet's development, little by
little, as and when the times are right."
And to bring my address to a close"
he added, "I would like to mention one or two small details." He paused.
"It has not been decided what powers should be given to him but I
will decide on this issue after further talks with GEC Saron, and I am calling
this project by the name SEK. If any of
my honourable fellow councillors wish to monitor it as it approaches its
initiation, or at any other stage, it will be available from Hadron under its
designated name. Needless to say perhaps
but I would welcome anyone's call for discussion, or anyone's offer of advice,
particularly from more learned and experienced members, on the implementation
of the concept or indeed any other aspect of it."
Metron finished his address and looked
unhurriedly to the left and then to the right, looking briefly at every fellow
member around the table in turn. When he
had visually toured the table he gave a slight nod of his head in the direction
of Caldorosh, indicating that he had terminated his presentation.
There was no immediate response to
Metron's invitation. A thoughtful
silence filled the room. Then, a low
murmur gradually took the place of the silence that had extended itself beyond
the time that Metron had taken to make his presentation, as members spoke to
each other in informal discussion. There
appeared to be a general atmosphere of approval prevailing.
The murmur was interrupted by Dqu. "I assume Metron" he asked in a
friendly manner, "that you have studied in‑depth the full post‑implantation
history of planet 8.11.5." He put
his question so that the matter would be entered on record and because he knew
the answer would allay some of the fears that fellow members may have.
"In‑depth might be overstating
it Dqu" Metron replied, "but I
had an intelligence status precis from Darin of the full authorised
report."
"And what would you say were the
major problems of that project?" Dqu asked.
"As I see it" Metron replied,
"the main problems arose from the interchange between implant, which we
designed, and the indigenous Nranians.
It was too difficult to predict, even for Hadron, the outcome of the complex
interfacing of our version of a Nranian and the planet dwellers
themselves. Not a rare occurrence when
it comes to the complexities of the human mind.
It was this that led to a great deal of monitoring and modification of
the project."
Again there was a silence so Metron went
on. "I may add that a lot has been learnt from the exercise and,
undoubtedly indicate the areas from which most of the difficulties of project
Sek could arise."
Maron then posed a question to
Metron. "Can you reveal at this
stage any particularly important steps you may, or even will, take
Metron?"
"The most important step for me to
take, I think" Metron replied, "is to have GEC Saron supervise the
project as my personal emissary and report direct to me."
One of the Sector Leaders at the far end
of the table put a question. "Can
you briefly outline how you see this as giving the planet some direction,
Metron?" he asked.
"Indeed, indeed" Metron
replied. "The man will become, as I
said, the people's Messiah. He will
teach his fellow men the importance of high moral standards in everyday
life. It is as much as we can hope to
achieve if you bear in mind that we are dealing with the delicate fabric of
complex human behaviour."
The chamber lapsed into silence once more
as the members mentally chewed over the details they had been given. So far all had gone well for Metron. It was quite normal to have unanimous
agreement on all Federation Council decisions.
The plan Metron was putting forward was, however, a major undertaking
even at galactic level and it would have been a considerable achievement to
have put forward such a plan without some element of dissention. There was some feeling in the air that
someone would surely dissent but as the moments passed the anticipation of
dissent from anyone began to subside.
The members were mildly surprised but their surprise was soon dispelled
as dissent did arrive. It came from Darak
the Sector Leader of Sector 9.
Darak was from the planet of Galan, situated
in Trac 11 of his sector. He was a tall
well‑built man with strong, dark features, very typical of
Galanites. Large thick eyebrows topped
his piercing black eyes while his head was covered with black wavy and
glistening hair. Yet his looks were not
as menacing as his description might suggest.
His mouth, with its well formed lips and the suggestion of a smile,
softened his otherwise overpowering appearance.
"You will know, fellow
councillors" Darak opened his address as he rose to his feet, "that I
have always been opposed to implantation.
It is a long and risky business, and the outcome of the influence it has
is never accurately predictable." He paused to look around the chamber at
many of his contemporaries.
"I will admit that Metron's plan is
one of some considerable strategic forethought and will, undoubtedly, use the
most modern biological synthesising techniques we have at our considerable
disposal. He will, also undoubtedly,
produce a man who will effect the course of, what is it, planet 25.9.3., or
whatever it is called." he said, showing a slight degree of irritation at
having to refer to the planet by its astronomically coded galactic location.
"It is officially called Terrea but
by many versions of that name by its inhabitants" Metron voluntarily
interjected, "in a number of languages."
"Many languages?" Darak
responded rather sharply. "Are
there many sub-planetary languages spoken on this single planet?"
"Many tongues" Metron
replied. "The planet is populated
by many races of people, each group small in number but with its own
distinctive language and in many cases distinctive appearance."
"A multi‑racial planetary mix?
That is all the more reason why I should cast doubt on the wisdom of proceeding
with project Sek" Darak came back, picking up where he had left off on
showing his irritation with the planet's numerical coding.
"I am, like many Galenite leaders
before me, for allowing inhabited planets to evolve to evolutionary stage 7
entirely unaided once an indigenous order of higher life form has been
established. In 1000 zurns, or 2000 of
the planet's own time years as predicted by Hadron, the population there will
be probing deep into their own sector of our galaxy. Would it not be more prudent that the planet
is contacted, on a limited basis, at that time and, then, gradually introduced
into the galactic brotherhood, to its numerous and various life forms and,
eventually, to the Galactic Code?"
He paused to look around at his colleagues who listened intently,
leaving the question hanging in the air.
Not waiting for an answer he went on.
"Until then I'm for leaving the
people of that planet alone for its own people to decide their own
evolution."
Caldorosh thought that an important point
was being overlooked.
"But Hadron's predictions are based
on the influence of an implant, Darak.
Are you not overlooking the fact that Hadron suggests we influence the
planet and bases its assumptions of the planet's future progress on our ability
to do so?"
"That may be so" Darak replied,
"but we must be cautious of steering the life of this or that planet in a
particular direction. The danger is that
this influence of ours could lead to all life forms becoming too similar or, as
the belief of the Galanites has been for 10 000 zurns, we may foster a race
that will rapidly develop its intelligence, resources and technology so that it
will be beyond our further influence and control. It may become a hostile planet" he
paused, the emotion he was feeling was obvious as he continued in a trembling
voice, "disrupting the harmony, not only of its own galactic sector, but
of its neighbouring sectors also."
As he finished his address, Darak waited
to give others a chance to comment. His
feelings were well understood by the members.
They knew of the historical significance of Darak's remarks. The Galanites had once lived on Chapra, which
had been on the far side of Sector 25, and had had their planet totally
destroyed by an alien race of Ferugs, a mutated race that had evolved following
an early experimental implantation of genetically engineered life forms on
Ferug. Ferug was one of the inhabited
planets of Sector 17, the neighbouring sector of Sector 25. The Galanites, or Chaprans as they were,
survived only by a massive migration to the planet Galan from where they were
able to do nothing more than witness the total destruction of their beloved
planet Chapra. The fact that planet
25.9.3. was in the galactic sector on the other side of Darak's sector did
nothing to ease his mind.
Dqu looked at Caldorosh and asked "If
I may speak....... ?" in a way which was more out of courtesy than seeking
formal permission.
Caldorosh gave an almost imperceptible nod
in Dqu's direction and Dqu spoke.
"We are all sympathetic to your
feelings, Darak. Hardly anyone present
is unaware of the suffering of your ancestors and how vital to your people's
history that event is. We all respect
that. Yet Hadron has indicated a course
of action we must follow and we must ask ourselves if it is wise to question
its directive."
Nodding heads around the table indicated
that many were agreeing with Dqu's line of approach.
"May I suggest, therefore, that we
accept the decision and wisdom of Hadron, adding," he repeated the word
for emphasis, "adding a proviso that project Sek is monitored and reported
on periodically and will be allowed to continue from any monitored point only
if unanimous, I repeat unanimous, agreement is reached on its continuing at our
Federal Council meetings."
It was obvious from the expressions on the
faces of the councillors that the suggestion of Dqu met with general
approval. It seemed to most to be a
rational way out of an otherwise delicate predicament. This appeared even to appeal to Darak as the
look in his eyes somehow softened, although when he spoke his voice had lost
nothing of its strength and emphasis.
"If no one objects to Metron's
proposal with Dqu's, shall I say intelligent suggestion of adding a
proviso" he said, "I will not dissent either."
It was left to Caldorosh, to whom the
members now turned their attention, to formally record the assent of the
Council to Metron's proposal. "Let
project Sek proceed" he said in a
formal manner adding "let us hear of its progress as often as any council
member requests it and let us reserve and guard the right of Darak, or any
other Sector Leader, to call for a deep and detailed discussion, for a review
if necessary, of the project whenever he or she so desires."
Metron lowered his eyes to the table in
front of him. His feelings were a little
mixed now. Up until this time he had
been somewhat anxious to be able to present his proposal to the full
council. He had come to the meeting
wondering if all his work would be for nothing, or if there would be serious
objections on grounds which he had overlooked.
Those had been his thoughts up until the time that he had stood up to
speak. Immediately afterwards he had
felt elated at having his plans accepted but now, to his feelings of anti‑climax
at having successfully put his plans to the council were added the feeling that
another, complicated, factor would have to taken into consideration.
`As if' he thought, `the project is not
sufficiently challenging as it is.'
However, Metron understood fully the
concern of Darak, knowing more than most the history of the Galanites, having
studied astropology at the
He raised his eyes and looked across the
table at Darak. The two men exchanged
friendly smiles and noddings of the head, each recognising, acknowledging and
respecting the responsibilities - and the sincerity - of the other.
3
The
sun had not quite fully risen over the distant dark brown hills to the east
although the early morning mist picked out a green mosaic patchwork as its rays
stole through in places to the west. The
overnight coolness still dominated the morning as Jal looked out across the part
of the town he could see from his home.
He knew that soon the breeze would start its gentle caress, increasing
its warmth and intensity. The
temperature would reach its mid‑day peak before gradually decreasing as
the day wore on. "Ah well," he
thought philosophically as he looked up at and around the brightening sky,
"it's only Spring." To him it
meant that even the afternoon temperatures would not be unbearable.
Jal was happy and pleased with life in
general with himself and this morning, even with the coolness and promised
moderate temperature of the day. He was
a contented man.
He strolled along the street, between the
houses made of sun‑dried mud-and-sand bricks, up the hill towards the
village square. He was on his way to do
some repair work at the bakers shop. He
and his father were carpenters and both liked the work. It required creative
skills and brought them into contact with many other people. The bakery job would last between two and
three days so there was no desperate hurry to get there. In any case his bag of tools was not
light. His chosen leisurely pace suited
his relaxed mood and the absence of urgency of the job ahead.
Up ahead the town square with its deep
well and water‑filled surround in the centre was already the hub of
bustling activity with people milling around.
It was by no means crowded, but there were enough people to give the
place an air of commercial preparation.
Some men pushed loaded handcarts, women carried water pitchers and
bundles of washing and stallholders were setting up their tables. The early birds were putting the finishing
touches to their displays. No one rushed
about, most were just purposefully going about their business of setting up the
marketplace as they did three times each week.
By the time Jal reached the square itself
he could see across the whole area. Over
to the right he could see Islac and a wave from Jal brought a `Good morning'
shout and a wave in response. Others he
recognised and some hand waving was exchanged as greetings. Over on the left, Jal thought he heard
another voice, this time a resonant baritone voice, say `Good morning.' Jal did not know if the greeting was intended
for him and out of curiosity turned around to see who had spoken.
He had not recognised the voice yet sensed
it was aimed at him as it was so close.
He saw a stranger who was, he guessed, in his late thirties, early
forties, some six feet tall and very good looking. His fair hair was kept in place by his halan
band and a long smartly cut white gahj hung down to just below his knees. Around his waist was a thin gilded rope. The man was smiling at a Jal, who wore an
expression of curious puzzlement.
Although he did not recognise the man, Jal was unsure of himself because
he thought he should have. It was as
though he had seen the face before but the where and when escaped him.
"Good morning" the man repeated
in a friendly voice and directly at Jal so that Jal would have no doubt as to
whom he was directing his address. He
added a reassuring "my name is Saron." He went on "I see you are
puzzled as to who I am and why I should greet you."
"I, eh, yes I am" Jal replied uneasily "although" he
paused, "I, I have a feeling that I have seen you before."
"You have" said Saron. "It was in Delrin - do you remember
Delrin? You were much younger then than
you are now." He paused. Jal was silent. There was no need to hurry this meeting. "I spoke to you outside the temple and
encouraged you to go in."
"Yes....... I..think I remember
now" said Jal as the puzzled expression evaporated. "So that was you. I don't remember all
that happened" he went on thoughtfully, "but I do remember now, oh
yes, landing in trouble with my parents.
They had to come back to Delrin to find me when they realised I was not
just following behind. Oh yes, I really
did get into trouble that day."
"I am sorry to hear that" Saron replied, adding, with a slight chuckle
in his voice, "I hope the visit to the temple was more fulfilling than the
punishment was demoralising."
"Well...... I suppose it was in some
ways." Jal responded, trying hard to think back to that day so many years
ago in his young life.
"Well, I had a good reason for
persuading you to go into the temple" Saron said. "Yes, a good reason
for that just as I have a good reason for being here this morning to meet
you" He paused to carefully form
what he next had to say.
Jal had a chance to allay his curiosity
"You came here to meet me this morning?" he asked, stressing the
`here' and `me'.
"Yes, to meet you" Saron replied
and added his question "Tell me, have you ever wondered why you have such
a wide knowledge of your religion? How
you so easily understand the ways of God and the teachings of the Prols?"
"Wondered? No, not really. Quite honestly, it has not
crossed my mind. Have I any more
knowledge than anyone else of my age?"
"That you undoubtedly have."
Although Jal had only just met the
stranger and was still in a puzzled state of mind, he found it easy to engage
in conversation with him
"I don't know about that" he responded thoughfully. "When I was
young I did think of becoming a religious cleric of some kind but, as it turned
out, I became more and more involved in my father's work and became a
carpenter. I still enjoy a relationship
with God just as I love, well, carpentry.
I think that respecting our God and honouring the laws and customs of
our people is the only way to achieve happiness and fulfilment."
"I am impressed by the way you have
expressed yourself" remarked Saron.
"You show a maturity well above your years. But then that does not surprise me knowing
you as I do."
"I don't understand......." Jal
interjected with puzzlement in his voice.
"Forgive me" Saron interrupted,
realising that what he had said might seem peculiarly strange and disrupt the
relationship he was trying to promote with Jal.
By interrupting he had also avoided giving Jal the chance of asking a
direct question about his knowledge of him that he did not want to have to
answer at this stage. Saron knew that
his whole approach to Jal would have to be tactful, gentle and built up over a
period of time. He did not want to put
his plans in jeopardy. "I didn't
want to sound mysterious" he added.
Jal looked slightly confused and
embarrassed and mentioned that it was about time he got to his place of work
and got on with his job.
"Would you mind if I walked along
with you?" Saron asked. Without
waiting for Jal's reply, he turned and walked in the direction in which Jal had
been going when they had met.
"My meeting with you this morning was
no accident" Saron opened after some minutes of silence. "I think the
time is right for you to be made aware that you are no ordinary person." He held up his hand to check any response
from Jal so that he could go on with his revelation. "You are one chosen to play a special
part in the lives of many others........ "
"What are you talking... I mean, what
do you mean by that..." Jal forced his way into Saron's speech.......
"chosen by whom, and for what?"
Saron did not respond hastily. He knew that it was too early in the scheme
of things, too early in Jal's own life to give a direct answer to that
question. He avoided it by asking his
own. "Let me ask you if you know
anything about the events which took place when you were born, from your
parents, I mean. Has your father ever
mentioned anything to you?" he questioned, looking intently at Jal for his
reply.
"Well, yes", Jal reflected out
loud, "but I've not paid much attention to the stories. Neither my father nor mother have appeared to
want to talk about the event very seriously to me and I have not given much
importance to the, well, anecdotes as I have heard them. I've not thought the details very special but
just the natural recollections of parents about the birthdays and anniversaries
of their children. It's normal."
"Normal? Well yes, I suppose it
is" Saron replied. "And some
of the events at your birth were as normal as any but, as you will learn, many
of the events were created by, well, shall we say, powers you could not
possibly understand at this point in time." Again, Saron held up his hand to stay Jal from
any hasty remark. "In good time you
will be told everything. It will all be
explained to you."
"It all sounds so mysterious."
Jal responded with puzzlement in his voice.
"Again, I can only ask the questions. By whom and when?"
"I beg you to forgive me for not
enlightening you further at this point." Saron replied, adding "as I've already intimated, you have a
special destiny. It will influence the
future of all the people of Ilaama, the people of this part of the world and
the people of many other parts of the world in the fullness of time. How that will come about, and why, will be
made known to you later in your life. We
have much time. All I ask is that you go
on learning about your," he stumbled and corrected himself quickly,
"our god. Study that which is
written, learn it well and give it as much analytical thought as possible. All these things will form the essential
background, as important a part of your destiny as you are to form an important
part in the destiny of others."
Jal was unable to say anything and was not
sure how to react. Did he believe
Saron? He did not know for sure and
yet...... he did not feel special in any way although it was true he did have a
natural aptitude for learning and for eloquence, but this seemed no more than
the good fortune that others had in the way of athleticism or rich
parents. He had, naturally, been proud
of his ability to learn, of his possessing a good brain. But it was just good fortune surely? He certainly hadn't thought of it in any
other way before.
"No," Saron said, breaking the
silence and into Jal's own thoughts, "it is more than good fortune."
Jal took in a short, sharp, breath and
looked at Saron "How could you... did you know what I was
thinking?" he asked and added, as
if answering his own question, "How did you do that?"
Again Saron raised his hands in a
defensive motion. "All in good
time" he replied as calmly and as matter‑of‑factly as he
could. He realised that revealing his knowledge of Jal's thoughts might upset
the delicate relationship that he knew was essential to build up between
himself and Jal, who had been brought up in a Terrean, not a Paltean,
environment. He of course knew what had
happened. He had caught a fragment of
Jal's thoughts that Jal had inadvertently transmitted. After all, Jal's mind was Paltean by design
and could be taught to transmit thought at will and in a controlled way, but
there was no doubt in Saron's mind that Jal had not been aware that he was
transmitting his thought processes nor would he have had any way of controlling
it even if he had.
Yet Saron had quite clearly received Jal's
thoughts which slightly disturbed Saron.
It was reassuring to know that Jal's mind was capable of transmitting
thought and was definitely Paltean and not Terrean, but he asked himself why
had thought transmission occurred at all?
Was there some flaw in the genetic make‑up of Jal? Saron had no way of knowing. He put it out of
his mind.
Jal could not help feeling that he was in
the presence of someone extraordinary.
An intellectual. Someone with
what? Magical, supernatural powers? It was a strange feeling, yet he had no fear
of Saron. Saron appeared to know him although Jal had met him only once
before. He was friendly, charming and
polite, yet with an air of authority, of maturity and wisdom. 'Where could he have come from...... ?' Jal thought.
"...... like you to go on
learning........" Jal's thoughts were interrupted as he realised Saron was
talking to him. "........ and think a great deal about the rights and the
wrongs of the teachings of the Prols. I will see you again when you are
older. Then I will reveal more of your
destiny and that of the others.
"When I am older?" echoed Jal,
his intonation questioning, his voice somewhat quieter than usual.
"When you are older," repeated
Saron with just enough firmness in his voice to indicate to Jal that he would
say no more. "Until we meet again,
then." Saron said.
"Yes until, uh, yes, until we meet
again" Jal said, still a little bewildered by all that had taken place
during the past half hour, literally out of the blue.
Saron bade farewell then turned towards
the east. Jal stood where he was, his
head buzzing with a confusion of questions.
He watched Saron slowly disappearing from view until he reached a side
street where he appeared to turn left.
But as Jal watched, Saron suddenly vanished from view as though he had
evaporated. `Perhaps a trick of the
light' Jal thought, since he had been facing directly towards the sun as he had
watched Saron walk away. He remained
mystified, puzzled, and slightly confused.
There was no doubt that Saron had made a
deep impression upon Jal. His bearing,
his manner, his style of dress had all combined to have that effect. In addition his apparent personal knowledge
about Jal left the feeling that Saron knew a lot about him, more than he had
revealed. What he had said was
thought-provoking, but Jal did not doubt that what Saron had said about him and
about his destiny had a ring of possibility about it. He didn't know why. It stayed in his thoughts even though he
tried desperately hard to put it out of his mind. Jal was not to know then that it would occupy
his mind for some time to come.
Having started out happily and jauntily
for work that morning, he had now lost his natural sparkle and felt as though
he had lost his appetite, whereas, just before the encounter, he had been
having his usual pangs of morning hunger that he normally satisfied with a
scone or two from his food bag. He felt
the effects of the encounter as though he had received some bad news yet, he
did not rationally think that what Saron had told him was bad. Far from it, it was something that should
have caused him some excitement. The
excitement that any mystery might engender.
Nevertheless he was, much to his annoyance, inexplicably disturbed.
Arriving at the corner of
By early evening Jal was feeling his usual
self. The job of repairing the baker's
window was going well and would occupy his time for today and for tomorrow, but
would probably be finished by then. Jal
had returned home and sat with his mother, father and brother at the table,
having just finished a good supper. As
he and his father later tidied up the small room which served as the workshop
he decided it was as good a time as any to raise with his father the subject of
his birth, the events which were now vague but which he had been trying to
recollect in his mind during the day.
"Dad" he opened, "do you
remember telling me about the things which happened when I was born?"
"Yes" Jaml responded with a
slight hint of curiosity in his voice.
"Do you, could you, eh, tell me again
about those things, now that I am well, older?" he asked. "Would you mind?"
Jal's father unhurriedly put down the plane he
was holding. "No, son, I don't
mind" he said. "We've just
about finished here so I'll put away these few things and then we'll have the
rest of the evening to ourselves. Pass
me that saw there."
Jaml continued to tidy up and was soon
finished. Seeing that Jal had finished
also he beckoned to him with a raise of his eyebrows and a nod in the direction
of the small rear courtyard. As they
left the workshop his father placed his arm around Jal's shoulders.
They went to the back of the house and sat
in a small area that was closed in on three sides. It was open to the sky and had a view out of
the open side across the Agden valley.
Jal's father had fitted the alcove with wooden seats on which his mother
had placed some cloth and skins. His
father made himself comfortable and seeing that Jal had done the same he began
to relate the events that had happened some eighteen years ago.
"The story really starts here in Tone
before you were born" he opened.
"I was working in my workshop.
Not here but in our old home which, at that time, was my father's house,
completing a ploughshare frame for Saer I was. I was engrossed in my work,
concentrating as you know I do, when I became aware of a man standing just
inside the doorway.
I hadn't noticed him coming in and I
probably looked surprised when I realised he was there, even, perhaps, a little
startled. He spoke to me saying `I'm
sorry to have alarmed you. I have some news for you.' When I got my breath back
naturally, I asked `For me?, From whom?'
Calmly he told me that from whom was less
important than the message which was that your mother, my intended wife as she
was then, was to bear me a child. I protested that she was not pregnant and could
not possibly be so as I had always respected your mother. The stranger re‑assured me that no
one's honour was in question, your mother was pregnant but, and he emphasised
this, it was not due to a normal male and female conception but it had been
brought about by powers that I would not be able to understand. He re‑assured me also that your mother
was still a virgin and added that she would give birth to a child that would
appear as an ordinary child but would, in fact, turn out to be extraordinarily gifted
in his powers and eventual achievements.
He added that I would see him again from time to time." Jaml gave Jal a little time to take in what
he had said so far. After a suitable
pause he went on.
"Indeed, I discovered that your
mother was pregnant. We discussed the
meeting with the stranger and, as we loved each other the way we did, we
decided to get married right away.
Before you were due to be born I had to go
to Balkor to register, according to the Rivulion decree. Your mother insisted on coming with me
although it was not long before you were due to arrive." He paused again,
as if to recollect his thoughts.
"Well, it was while we were there in Balkor that your mother
realised that you were going to arrive sooner than expected, probably because
of the journey. We had little money and
places to stay were impossible to find with so many people there for the
registration, but fortunately for us, a farmer allowed us to stay in a small
barn and that was where you were born.
Although only a barn, it was warm and with a little bit of effort I made
it comfortable.
Good fortune was with us when you were
born as neither you nor your mother suffered in any way. The farmer's wife helped with the birth. What we had no way of knowing at the time was
that the stranger who had brought me the news in Tone had been nearby the whole
time, as though, I thought afterwards, to watch over all of us."
Jaml stopped to reflect on the events of
that time and Jal said nothing as he waited for his father to continue.
"Some days after you were born
something quite extraordinary happened.
Some shepherds appeared and told us that they had been approached by
what they described as an angel but which I realised was our stranger. He had offered an explanation for the bright
and brilliant star that had appeared in the sky and had given them cause for
concern. He had told them that the star
marked the birthplace of a child destined to liberate his people from the
ruling Rivulions.
We stayed on in the barn for several weeks
to give your mother time to regain her strength and, for you too, it would do
no harm. One day there appeared three
men, dressed in fine clothes and with all the signs of being men of substance. They showed great wisdom and understanding,
telling us that they had travelled far and from countries to the east of
Balkor. They spoke in strange tongues
but, through someone who knew their languages, we learned that they had
travelled to witness the fulfilment of an age‑old prophesy that a leader
would be born in Balkor and that the world would be given a sign. Astrologers had informed them that the
brilliant star over Balkor was the sign.
They gave us some gifts, including some gold and other treasured
articles. We sold some of the gifts and
this, together with the gold, enabled us to repay the farmer and prepare for
the return journey to Tone.
We thought that now we could travel with a
little comfort. However, as it turned
out, this was not to be. Even as we
prepared to leave for Tone, the stranger appeared and told us that it would not
be safe to travel north as the evil Harkor was looking for the child who had
been born beneath the brilliant new star and was destined, he had heard it
rumoured, to be the leader of all his people.
Harkor feared that the people would believe this. Fortunately for us, we
were able to get away and headed for Ekatari where we stayed for almost three
years. We returned then to Tone only
after being told by the stranger that Harkor was dead and now, with his son
Chelaus on the throne, it was safe for us to return to Tone, avoiding Balkor
just to be sure of no mishaps. And, that
is about it, my son."
When his father had finished his story,
Jal sat there without saying a word.
What his father had said, together with his meeting with and the words
of Saron, were quite a lot to take in.
"So it must be" Jal thought, "that I have been selected
somehow to follow some predestined life!"
Questions buzzed around in his head, unanswered by his father's and
Saron's talks. In fact, most of the
questions had arisen since his encounter with Saron. Now there were new questions. What was this mysterious power about which
the stranger had told his father? How
and why had the stranger appeared in front of his father several times, each
time proving to be most useful? Was
there any way of finding out? Was
there.... ?
What Jal did not know was that his mother
and father had never doubted that he was destined for greatness, ever since the
events in Tone and Balkor, even though nothing else had happened since their
return to Tone. They had seen Jal grow
up to become a good son, taking to his father's work better than they could
have expected. But, they always had the
feeling that one day Jal would have to leave them to perform some, as they
thought, God‑sent, task. They had
no idea when it would be or what it would be, but it would come. Of that they were sure in their hearts.
No words had passed between the pensive
Jal and his father since his father had finished relating the events that had
taken place around the time of Jal's birth.
It was Jal who broke the silence. "Dad" he said, pausing to
compose his words, "I met a man
today. A man of some stature, some, eh,
substance, yet, he had an air of friendliness.
As it happens, I vaguely remembered him from the time we were in
Delrin. He had encouraged me to enter
the temple there. You remember, I stayed
in there a long time and mum had to come back and fetch me."
His father nodded knowingly as a faint
smile flitted across his face.
"It was the same man that I saw
today" Jal went on. "He seemed
to know me well enough. He told me that
I would, as he put it, `shape the destinies of many people' in the
future."
Jal's father said nothing.
"He did not say how, or when, or
attempt to explain" Jal went on, "but he did say that he would tell
me more about these things when, as he put it `I was older'."
Jal's father had been looking at Jal all
the time he had been speaking about his encounter. He showed no sign of surprise or any other
emotion, but a few moments after Jal had finished he put a question to him "This man. What was he like, in appearance, I
mean?"
"He was a little more than six feet
tall, built like a strong athlete with a paler complexion than, say, yours, and
eyes that appeared to be pale blue. I
suppose he was what you'd call handsome.
He had a clean‑shaven face and was about your age, I would say,
dad."
"And how did he walk..... ?"
"His walk? Ah, yes, he appeared to be
very light on his feet and he walked with an upright posture. His stance was like that of a soldier but his
deportment was as natural as could be, I mean, he didn't seem to be
deliberately holding himself upright at all."
"Yes, I know him." Jal's father nodded his head.
"You know him, dad? Who is he?"
"Not by name, Jal. I could not remember the name he gave me when
we first met because the tension at that time was so intense that the name must
have slipped from my mind, but from your description. It's the same man who brought me the news
here in Tone before you were born, again in Balkor and later in Ekatari.
So...." Jaml lingered on the word
before adding, "he has appeared again." Jal's father appeared to be very thoughtful,
sitting up in a more rigid position, realising that perhaps the time when Jal
would leave was now approaching. Neither
he nor Jal's mother wanted that day to arrive since they both loved Jal very
much and they knew that family life would never be the same once Jal went.
"Saron" Jal said, interrupting
his father's thoughts, "his name is Saron."
"Uh, yessss" his father replied "I remember now.
Saron, that is the name he mentioned when we first met in Tone. Saron, yes, it
is Saron" he reflected as he rose and made his way into the house. He obviously had a lot on his mind.
The following morning Jal returned to the
baker's shop and continued his work on the window. He had found himself involuntarily looking
out for Saron as he made his way from his home to the shop but had not seen any
sign of him. He could not help his
thoughts returning to Saron and his father's story about Saron's activities
before he, Jal, was born, but fortunately, the job he was doing helped him to
get those thoughts out of his mind. The
work on the window was intricate and needed him to concentrate on what he was
doing so that he didn't make any mistakes.
Mistakes cost him, or his father, money and he could not afford to waste
time or material so he devoted all his attention to the job and it progressed
well. The final transom was in place and
there was just one more mullion to mitre and place in position.
It was just at the point where he was
getting on quite happily with his work on the final mullion that he heard a
girl's voice from the back of the shop.
"I didn't think that Saraiah the
baker had a daughter" he idly
thought. His attention returned to the
work in hand, the mullion.
Some minutes later the girl's voice again
broke Jal's concentration as she called out laughingly "no, don't do
that... " and as she ran around the door into the front of the shop where
Jal was working. On seeing Jal, the girl
stopped and her voice checked in mid sentence, her hand going up to cover her
mouth in a surprised instinctive gesture.
Jal looked up, not knowing if the words had been directed at him.
"Oh!" she gasped as she stood
there looking at Jal "I didn't........" she started to say something
but her embarrassment overcame her and the rest of the muffled apology was left
unsaid.
"Yes, I, uh...." Jal stammered involuntarily, not knowing
quite what response to make. But, he
need not have said anything because the girl had already disappeared back
behind the doorway almost as quickly as she had appeared. Almost at the same time Saraiah appeared and
for a moment or two just stood there.
Looking at Jal, he smiled on seeing his stunned expression and said to
him "Pretty, isn't she?"
"Uh, yes, uh yes she is" Jal responded coyly. "I didn't realise
that you had a daughter."
Saraiah chuckled. "She's not my
daughter, young Jal" he said,
"that's Mala, my niece. Comes from
Madensa. Do you know it?" And without waiting for an answer added
"To the west of here. Just here for
a few days."
Jal nodded as a sign of understanding what
Saraiah had said and turned to get on with his work. He made a real effort to concentrate on the
job and to put the finishing touches to the window construction. He had to steady his hands which had started
to shake a little since Mala had appeared.
His pulse was beating a little faster too, but there was not much he
could do about it, `nature must take its course' he thought. He assured himself that he was a little
excited because he was coming to the end of a well‑done job and, then, it
could be the sight of a pretty girl.
'No, no,' he tried to convince himself, she was too young. Much too young for him anyway. 'Very pretty though, but, well, sort of
young......'
"Looks good" a voice from behind him interrupted the
conflict in his mind between his wayward thoughts and concentration. He looked up with a start feeling a little
guilty thinking that perhaps someone had been reading his thoughts about Mala. It was Saraiah. "You've made a good job of that, young
Jal. Tell your father that I am very
pleased with it."
Jal felt a little easier. "Thank you" he said, gathering his
tools and allowing himself a little pride as he glanced over his work on the
window construction. He bade Saraiah farewell
and left, stepping out into the street and walking in the direction of home.
Having gone only a few paces he
instinctively looked over his shoulder.
In the upstairs window of the baker's shop he could see Mala looking out
at him. She did not want to be seen and
was looking from the side of the window but Jal could see her very
clearly. Again Jal felt a flutter in his
heartbeat but did not have time to dwell on the fact because at that moment,
not looking where he was going, he stubbed his toe on a stone that projected
from the hard earth and stumbled. He
quickly regained his balance and turned again to look up at the window, but
there was no one to be seen. She had
gone.
Jal turned around unhurriedly, his
embarrassment of tripping up receding.
Feeling a little bit anti-climatic, he headed for home. His feelings had been stirred, then dashed,
but now he began to feel the pleasure of the excitement that he felt deep
inside his stomach as he thought of Mala.
The fluttering feeling that was there was wonderful, but his rationality
gradually subdued the feelings - he knew that nothing could ever develop
between someone who lived so far away and, anyway, was, he thought, a bit too
young.
Although Jal did not have very far to go
he did not have any urgent desire to go directly home. Instead, he turned off his direct route when
he had walked half the distance to his home from the baker's shop and made for
one of his favourite spots on the hill overlooking the Agden valley. Sitting on a flattish rock and leaning back
against another, he mulled over the events of the past two days.
It had been quite a lot for anyone to take
in, particularly someone of Jal's age.
The meeting with Saron had had a profound effect on him. He wondered what the gods had planned for him
and what did destiny hold in store for the future. He wondered why his birth had had such
unusual circumstances as though it had meant to tell the whole world that a
special event had taken place. What had
it all been about and why? There were no
real answers, just guesses, perhaps..... Jal's mind wandered back to Mala. She was young, true, but she was very pretty
and, it seemed, very nice. `What he
pity' he thought, `that the job in Saraiah's shop was finished. Perhaps Saraiah would have some more jobs to
do soon.'
Jal knew only to well that he was only
fantasising. He sighed deeply, rose and
started off down the hill towards his home.
His day's work was done, it was time to go home, the long shadows were
already beginning to blend with the fading light.
4
The
impression that Saron had left with Jal was lasting. Jal had spent a great deal of his time with
the local priest and, over the next few years, visited Delrin quite a few times
to go to the temple and look at the way it was run. He studied whatever religious literature he
could lay his hands on. His father and
mother, Jaml and Mya were pleased with his diligence and enthusiasm for
learning. His knowledge of the religious
teachings impressed, and sometimes even disturbed, the priests whom he often
engaged in debate.
It was now some five years since Jal had
had that early morning meeting with Saron.
It had left an indelible impression on Jal's mind although life had gone
on in much the same way as it always had before. Jal worked at his carpentry trade, often
working on jobs with his father, from whom he had learned his trade, and many
times on his own. There were times when
he was allowed to preach at the local church, although his thoughts were often
in conflict with the only dogma he was allowed to project.
Times were when he doubted that he would
see Saron again. He sometimes wondered
whether it had all been just an intention and that whatever had been planned
was now no longer to take place. The
reality of it all was that things might well go on like this for the rest of
his life. What, anyway, had been the
`things planned' for Jal that Saron mentioned.
Perhaps they had been changed?
Who could tell? Many times over
the years he had dwelt on these questions but they remained unanswered. Nevertheless, Jal had an inward desire to
learn about many things and to better himself.
This was the call that Jal found easy to follow.
One evening after coming home from a job
on which he had worked alone, his father, whom he joined in the workshop almost
every evening when the day's work was finished, told him something that was to
excite him, although Jaml had no idea that it would have such an effect. He greeted Jal with his customary `hello'
and `had a good day?' to which Jal responded.
"Yes thanks dad, a very nice day
today. I met Inlac today. About noon I
suppose. We had a good chat and we
laughed about one or two things."
His father knew of his good friend
Inlac. "Good, son" said
Jaml. "Good." He went on clearing up before adding "I
have a few jobs for you for the day after tomorrow. Unusual I'd say in that they are not here in
Tone but some distance away. You'll
probably have to stay for perhaps a week.
Means lodging somewhere until they are completed. How do you feel about that son, I mean, do
you mind going?"
"Not at all, dad. It's not a problem. Where?"
"Madensa. Some way from
here......"
"Madensa" Jal Interrupted,
"but isn't that where........." he left the sentence unfinished,
knowing in his own mind that it was the place where Mala, that pretty girl he
had seen in Saraiah's bakery shop, lived.
He knew that his father knew nothing about his `meeting' with Mala and
how it had affected him at that time.
`Some years ago now,' he thought, `but......' he wondered.
Jaml looked at Jal for some moments but
said nothing. He could see a happy look
on his son's face which was enough to tell him that, for some reason, Jal was
pleased about going to Madensa. If Jal
was pleased, he too was pleased and a little smile flitted across his lips.
It was early morning when Jal set off for
Madensa, taking with him the family donkey and, after an uneventful journey
which seemed to last for ever, he came upon the outskirts of Madensa
itself. Before leaving, his father had
given him a small amount of gold and wished him a safe journey and speedy
return. As he had been leaving his
father, Jal had wished that he had been coming with him but he knew it was not
to be on this occasion. If there was
anything Jal liked it was to work with his father, particularly on jobs some
way away from home. In the past few
years this had happened less and less.
Jal had reached his age of manhood and his father had grown a little
older too. But, it had been good for Jal
who was now a competent carpenter and one who could tackle any job on his own.
His father had, in fact, given him three
jobs to do in Madensa. One was for a
smallholder who had a small plot of land and some livestock, another was for a
farmer and a third for a potter. On the
journey, Jal thought about how clever his father had been not only to obtain
this work quite some way from home but also to be able to arrange to have it
all done at around about the same time.
The first job Jal tackled was at the
smallholding where the owner was friendly enough to offer Jal lodgings for his
entire stay in Madensa. Jal accepted
gratefully since the smallholder's home was pleasant and the food provided by
the smallholder's wife was very good indeed.
When Jal had finished the work at the
smallholder's he went off and found the potter's place in the town centre. There, after a good, hard day of work, in
which he was able to build up a rapport with the potter's assistant, he was
able to make some enquiries about the possible whereabouts of Mala. Her face and name had been on his mind, on
and off, since he had set out from Tone.
As it turned out, Jal was very
fortunate. The potter's assistant knew
the area very well. Mala lived on the outer edge of the town which was more or
less in the general direction he had to go to get to the farm where his third
job awaited him. Jal was more than
delighted.
The work progressed and Jal was pleased
with the way things were going but it was not until Jal's fifth day in Madensa
that he was able to set off for his final job at the farm. He set off for this one with a light heart,
fully intending to search for, and make contact during the mid-day break with,
that pretty girl he had seen in Tone. He
tackled his job at the farm with an unusual degree of keenness and having made
a commendable start by the time the morning ended he allowed himself to take a
well‑earned break. He tidied up
his work and set off towards the place for which he had been given directions,
the place where he had been told Mala lived.
He had a little tingle of excitement inside
as he set out on his long thought‑about escapade. After he had been walking for some fifteen
minutes he came to the brow of a hill and could look down and see a number of
houses. From the good description he had
been given by the potter's assistant, he could pick out which was the house in
which Mala lived and, for the rest of the walk, he kept his eyes fixed on it.
On the way he had been thinking up several
ways of attempting to make contact with Mala.
Now he was close, he was not sure of himself and began to have
misgivings about coming. `But,' he
thought, `this is what I've wanted to do since I started out for Madensa.' He was excited and confused, wrestling with
his thoughts, not knowing whether to go on or go back when, suddenly, he saw a
girl come out of the rear of the house carrying a basketful of washing. She placed the basket on the floor and began
to hang the garments on the clothes line.
Jal's heart skipped several beats.
Even from a distance he could see that it was Mala and just how
attractive she really was. She had grown
a little and matured and was even lovelier now than when he had first had a
glimpse of her in Tone.
The girl who was the cause of his
excitement had long black hair, pale olive skin and an attractive figure and
yet, there was much more to her than just this.
She held herself well, her deportment had a mixture of vitality and
charm. Something inside Jal began to
flutter out of control. He almost called
out to her but he held back, knowing that this approach would be too impolite. It would have to be much more tactful than
that.
As he held himself in check, trying to
carefully choose his opening words, she was gone, having disappeared inside the
house. He kept turning over in his mind
what he should say to her, how he would approach her, when, again suddenly,
Mala bounced out of the door, heading towards the washing basket which Jal
could now see was not completely empty.
As she bounced out she saw Jal and her lower jaw dropped with the
surprise of seeing someone she vaguely recognised, and was not too sure as to
why he should be there in front of her.
"Good afternoon" Jal managed to say politely. "It's Mala, isn't it?"
"Yes" Mala could hear herself
instinctively responding "but how..........."
"Forgive me" He could see that
she was somewhat embarrassed by his arrival.
"When I saw you in Tone some years ago, in your uncle's shop, I
asked your name. Your uncle told me then
it was Mala and that you lived in Madensa" he added. "I am working in Madensa at the moment
and I thought I would be bold enough to pay you my respects."
"How nice." Mala felt awkward,
not knowing exactly what to say, or, in her excitement, knowing exactly how to
behave. Some moments of awkward silence
passed, giving Mala time to regain her composure. "Eh, would you like to come inside and
have something to drink?"
"I'd love to" Jal eagerly
accepted her offer. When inside the
house, Mala showed him a seat on which he was only too glad to rest his body as
Mala went to fetch a drink of very acceptable, cooled watered wine.
Jal, gratefully, at first drank and then
sipped the drink as they exchanged little anecdotes about Tone or Madensa and
found themselves laughing easily in each other's presence and at each other's
experiences. Sometimes the conversation
was punctuated with silent lulls. A half‑hour
quickly passed and Jal had reached the end of his drink. He wished it had lasted longer, but he stood
up to indicate that he would have to go.
He heard the voices of some children and glanced out of the window.
Mala's eyes followed his.
"It's my young brother and his
friend" she said.
"Oh" Jal remarked softly, still
regretting that he had to leave but knowing that he had some way to walk before
he would get back to the farm and restart the job he had got on with so well
this morning. He had an idea.
"I'll be in Madensa for another four
days. Do you think I could see you again
before I return home to Tone?"
"Why, yes. Yes, that would be nice. Yes, of course." The reply was shy but
positive.
"Then, how about tomorrow?" Jal
asked boldly. "Perhaps I
could......"
"Yes, yes" Mala cut in, trying
her best to quell the rising excitement inside her. "I'll be at the basal in the morning so
I could meet you after the service."
"I would normally be at the basal in
Tone, but for me it will be a day of rest. I will come down to the basal and
see you there when the service is over.
I'll look forward to that."
As he spoke, Jal was looking at Mala's
eyes and went on looking, well after he had finished speaking. Her eyes had such depth, like mystical pools
of a dark and sweet elixir. Slowly,
reluctantly, he turned away and set off for the farm, hardly feeling the ground
under his feet.
In what seemed like no time at all he
arrived at the farm and set about his work with an inexplicable
enthusiasm. He came to the end of his
day's work, tidied up, packed up his tools and went back to his lodgings at the
smallholder's house.
The next day Jal woke early. He knew that something inside him had
awakened him, some kind of excitement which he was experiencing for the first
time. He dressed, had some breakfast and
was soon out and about although he knew that there were quite a few hours to go
before he would meet up with Mala. He
wandered off to find the little stream he had noticed in the town earlier in
the week and sat beside it. Normally, he
could sit by the side of any stream for hours and think about life in general,
but today, giving thought to the world at large was not for him. He quickly became restless. He got up and wandered along to the town
square, going by way of the basal to enjoy the feeling of being close to where
he knew Mala was. She was in there, he
knew and he could not help being excited.
He looked around the town square, at
nothing in particular but just trying to occupy himself while willing the time
to pass. He knew it was getting close to
the time when Mala would come out. He
made sure he was not far from the exit of the building at any time.
Then she appeared. The first person to come out. Looking around her at almost everything at
one and the same time, obviously searching for something, or some one. She spotted Jal almost at once and hurried,
in as dignified a way as she possibly could towards him.
Jal's heart had leapt. He could not help feeling delighted and it
showed. Mala wore a new dress and
looked even lovelier than she had appeared to Jal the day before. Jal moved towards her and raised his arms
shyly to greet her almost as though he were reaching out to hold her hands. Mala did the same, but as one they both
realised with some embarrassment, that they were reacting spontaneously and had
shown little restraint and respect for public courtesy. Both found it difficult to hide the delight
they felt on meeting each other to share some time together.
After exchanging courteous greetings with
a controlled affection Jal and Mala walked along the main street towards the
small stream where Jal had been earlier in the day. They both found it easy to keep up a flow of
small talk as though they had known each other for a long time. They sat by the stream for almost two hours
before Mala had to leave to get home in time for her mid‑day meal.
Jal walked back with her to her home, much
of the time in silence, just two people enjoying the pleasure of each other’s
company. Jal, happily strolling to spin
out the time, was still reluctant to leave her when they arrived.
"Thank you for seeing me today"
he said. "It has been really
great."
"Its my thanks to you" Mala
responded. "I enjoyed every minute of it." "Then what about
tomorrow?" Jal asked, overlooking
the fact that he would be working on the farm during the day.
"But it's Monday" Mala gave a
little laugh, "you'll be working.
Up at the farm, won't you?"
"Oh, yes. I am silly" he replied
with a little laugh in his voice but he still sounded genuinely disappointed.
"Never mind" Mala consoled him, "I could visit you at
lunch time ‑ and bring along something for lunch, for both of us."
A wide smile of delight lit up Jal's face
and he looked into Mala's deep brown eyes for some moments. "How could I
not accept such an offer as that? I
cannot wait"
"Until tomorrow, then?" Mala
asked.
"Until tomorrow." Jal answered.
The
next day turned out to be a day Jal would not forget for a very long time. He met Mala in the latter part of the morning
and they went and picnicked down under the shade of the wild olive trees at the
side of the stream. Mala had prepared a
lunch that was as delicious as it was varied.
There were meats, bread, fruit and a little light wine. They both ate well with their pleasure
enhanced because the excellence of the food added to the excitement they each
derived from being together, chatting, laughing and joking. After eating well and enjoying the last of
the wine they both laid back and relaxed and, in the balmy warmth of the day,
feeling very sleepy, were soon both asleep, side by side.
It was Mala who woke first. She woke with a start. Something had disturbed her sleep. For a moment she wondered where she was and
what was happening to her, what was this pressure she could feel on her
side. Then she realised where she was
and that the pressure was caused by Jal who had turned in his sleep and rolled
against her.
Her own movement caused Jal to wake. He came out of his sleep to find himself
close to Mala who made no attempt to move away.
Her closeness, and the smell of her lightly perfumed skin, aroused him
and responding to his feelings, he impulsively kissed her. Mala responded fully and returned the passion
of the kiss. They embraced each other
for several long minutes before allowing themselves to separate.
"I'm sorry, I didn't, eh...."
Jal tried to explain his actions.
"For what?" Mala
asked. "There's nothing to
apologise for......"
Jal reached out and held Mala' s hands in
his. He lifted them to his lips and
lightly but slowly kissed them.
"How I wish I were staying here for
much longer. Another two days and then
I'll have to return to Tone."
Mala was more optimistic. "Two days. We can easily find time to enjoy ourselves in
two days".
"And enjoy ourselves we must"
Jal jumped up. "Look, I've an
idea. Suppose I work throughout the
whole of tomorrow and see you for the entire day on Wednesday. Can you manage to have the day free?"
"Yes I can" Mala burst in almost
without waiting for Jal to finish speaking.
She so wanted to be with Jal that her eagerness was too much to
suppress,
There was a mutual reluctance to part when
Jal and Mala reached the parting point near to Mala's home. They lingered, they held hands and let hands
go and then held them again. Eventually
they parted, knowing that they would be able to spend a whole day together the
day after tomorrow although that day seemed ages away.
Mala had the task of explaining things to
her mother. At first, her mother had
strong reservations but these were eventually dispersed as she could see how
happy Mala was and had been for some days. She could not deny her daughter such pleasure
as she appeared to be finding in the company of this boy Jal.
The next day her mother helped her with
some of the preparation for the following day and arranged for her to have the
family donkey for the day. Although she
kept busy the day would still not go quickly enough for Mala.
Eventually after what seemed like a long
night, the next day arrived and Mala made the final preparations for food and
drink. Putting her baskets on the
donkey, she set off for the centre of Madensa after kissing her mother
farewell. She was excited as she
approached the arranged meeting place and her excitement peaked when she caught
her first sight of Jal waiting there for her.
They tentatively embraced and fondly exchanged
words of greeting. Jal suggested the
itinerary. "I've an idea. Let's walk towards D'jala alongside the
water. In an hour or so we can get as
far as what I think is called Mulan Grove.
Eslamina the farmer told me that it is very beautiful there."
"That sounds fine to me" Mala
said. "It sounds wonderful."
Agreeing on the destination they both
happily set off, holding hands, down along the embankment of the stream,
alongside fields that were filled with a variety of crops and between hills
that were cultivated in randomly arranged parts. The morning temperature was low enough to
make the long walk a pleasant one although, as they neared Mulan Grove the
temperature, having gradually risen, was now appreciably higher than it had
been in the town.
They had been able to see Mulan Grove for
some time, as it was visible from a long way off. It had a lush green colour of mixtures of
freshly-leafed deciduous and evergreen trees which contrasted with the pale
beige earth colours and the pale yellow of the fields. The surrounding hills closeted the grove,
trapping the moisture that nature gave back to the small forest by way of the
stream to ensure the generous growth of plant life that was there.
By the time Jal and Mala arrived at the
outer edge of the grove they had become quite hot. They were both grateful for the shade and
coolness the grove offered. They walked
for some distance into the grove before finding a suitable spot alongside the
stream at which to stop and rest and maybe to spend some time. Where they stopped the stream had widened as
it swept around a long bend, creating a large expanse of grass covered ground
with plenty of shade, yet not too many trees.
The ground itself rose gently away from the stream up into the more
thickly wooded areas on the higher ground.
They took the baskets off the donkey and
put the food and drink in the coolest niche they could find. Jal tethered the donkey on a long leash and
strolled down to the side of the stream where he sat alongside Mala who had
sorted out her place already. The
moments were idyllic as the cool air embraced them and the slowly flowing, wide
river, danced past them on its way to visit other places, carrying the fish
that now and then flipped over out of the water as they leapt for tiny
flies. This was their time
together. They talked. Of the things they had done during the past
week, of the things that they had done, or things that had happened, before
they recently met and of the things they would like to do in the future. Their conversation covered every topic
including some enjoyable lighthearted references to the first time Jal had seen
Mala in her uncle's shop. They talked about
their parents, their relatives, their friends and people whom they liked or
knew,
Some hunger pangs welled up inside Jal and
he realised that so much of the precious day had already gone and it was time
to eat.
"I'm hungry" he said, "let's eat." They both returned to the small bush under
which they had placed their picnic baskets.
Mala busied herself spreading out the cloth while Jal placed the food on
it as the space became available. Meats,
bread and cheese were accompanied by a small fruit pie and wine. When Jal had finished, a small feast, but no
less a feast, was spread before them.
By the time all was ready they were
ravenous and they attacked the food with enthusiasm. They soon consumed a good
lunch, relishing the wine and cheese and topping it all off with the fruit pie
of which none was allowed to be left.
They enjoyed everything, laughing a lot as they ate, but towards the end
of the meal both were noticeably less talkative than at the beginning. The eagerness of eating had been overtaken by
a soporific effect of a good meal taken after a long morning walk followed by a
relaxing time.
Jal stretched himself out nearby while
Mala folded the cloth and covered what little remained of the lunch which she
had put back in one of the baskets. She
finished tidying up and came to sit alongside Jal, settling herself down
comfortably, resting her head on a small rise in the ground on which she had
placed a towel as an improvised pillow.
They were both very relaxed and tired but
full of that special happiness two people can give each other just by being
together. They were soon holding each
other in a warm embrace.
"I can't think of any other time when
I have been so happy" said Jal. "I will hate returning to Tone,
spending my days far away from you".
"I feel the same way as you do,
Jal" she said. "The past week has been absolutely wonderful".
Jal kissed Mala lightly on the lips
several times and she responded, returning the intimate touches. He kissed her neck and could feel her
tremble. There was a warmth of emotional
excitement launching itself inside of both of them as they looked into each
other eyes. Jal touched Mala's cheek
with his hand and kissed her, his hand slowly moving to the front of her
blouse. The kisses moved along her neck
as he, touching her skin delicately with his lips, gently eased back her blouse
and lowered his head to gently kiss her firm uplifted breasts.
Mala uncontrollably let out a muffled
moan, her eyes half closed and glazed.
"No Jal' she cried, "please,no." Jal lowered Mala's
shoulders to the ground as he returned to kissing her neck and face. She relaxed on the warm grass and Jal moved
himself slightly so that he could loosen his shirt. They both felt an uncontrollable desire for
each other and within seconds they became locked in a passionate embrace, their
bodies entwined, kissing each other wherever they could make lip contact,
throwing away the chains of inhibition as they immersed themselves in the
abandonment of rationality to enjoy the pleasures that only the most intimate
physical contact could create.
The
following morning was warm but slightly overcast as Jal rode his father's
donkey out of Madensa. He headed towards
Mala's house although it was not the normal way out of Madensa for Tone. He knew that, but he just wanted to catch a
final glimpse of Mala before he left. He
knew he would not see her again for many months. He could see her waiting for him at the fork
in the road which was not far away from her home. He urged on the donkey.
The moment was one of mixed exhilaration and
sadness. They held each other for some
time before Jal finally kissed Mala and murmured his goodbye. They had whispered endearments to each other
and made vows to see each other at the earliest possible moment but Jal knew
that it would be some time before he could possibly have any chance of
returning to Madensa.
Finally, knowing he would have to make a
start, Jal remounted the donkey and nudged it in the direction of distant
Tone. He did not look back as he slowly
rode into the distance. Perhaps it was
because he did not want Mala to see the tears that were welling up in his eyes.
He travelled for more than three hours
before he could bring his mind around to the thought of stopping and having
some lunch. He had climbed the
5
Saron
could see at a distance the beauty of the spherical, multi‑coloured
Caldas Darain. It appeared out of the
emptiness of space to become first a speck, emerging into a small ball, growing
to become a spherical image of swirling streams of pink, blue and white. It continued to grow, although at a
diminishing rate, as Saron watched it turning into a recognisable planet while
he slowed down his ship's progress.
Touching several red and green keypads in
sequence, he reduced the approach velocity of Takara so that he could spend
more time in appreciating the visual splendour of this diluted‑rainbow
hued living sphere.
On his galactic charts, Caldas Darain was
identified as 25.1.1., a stark nomenclature for a world with such breathtaking
beauty and one that Saron always looked forward to visiting whenever the
opportunity arose. This was the first
time, however, that Saron did not have his usual pleasant anticipation of his
visit and this was the reason why, in no small part, he spent more time in the
approach mode than was normal. The
panoramic splendour more than compensating for his degree of anxiety.
He had been requested by Metron of the Sidereal
Council, the originator of and the Supreme for, project Sek, to attend a
meeting on Stara. Saron had met Metron
when project Sek had been formulated and when it had been formally inaugurated
and on two occasions after that when Saron had submitted periodic reports.
He had a very favourable impression of
Metron, whom he found to be of high intelligence, an intellectual and a
conversationalist with a wide range of talents and interests. Saron expected
that his meeting was to be with Metron for a fine tuning to the overall project
Sek strategy but his concern was based on the meeting being as soon as two
years after his last periodic report.
Closing in on Caldas Darain, Saron set the
local coordinates into the ship's navigational computer and was soon making a
hovering approach to the central cosmodrome of Nokor. The ship had long since gone through its
airborne interrogation procedure and so was allowed to descend slowly and touch
down on its allocated marked square. The
ship came to rest and Saron closed off the main power systems. As he shut them off, the marked landing pad
slowly descended below the apron and came to rest on the subterranean floor
inside the huge cosmodrome service area.
Overhead metallic sliding doors had already replaced the square pad on
which Takara had landed.
Saron keyed in his security code to lock
in confidential material, so that access could be given to the ship servicing
personnel, and left the ship to head for the transporter system that would take
him to the administration block. He
stepped into a small, glass‑like capsule and took a seat. The ambience sensor closed the entrance
screen and initiated the capsule's forward movement as Saron was whisked away
into the reception area of the administration complex,
The capsule had stopped in a vast, high‑roofed
area and Saron stepped out and looked around him as the capsule glided
away. Over to the right was a security
consol to which everyone had to report.
He went over and gave his name, his galactic code and the reason for his
visit. Simultaneously a scanner checked
his voice print, skin cell pattern and brainwave modulation. It all checked
out.
The young receptionist gave Saron a
magnetic printout card that told him he was to report to Tallus and included
instructions on how to reach him in the form of a set of coordinate
numbers. The card was to be fed into the
receptor of the internal conveyancing system after Saron had stepped into a
personal transportation capsule. Saron had used the system many times before on
his earlier visits to Stara.
The complex was massive and served as the
central cosmodrome for the whole of Sector 25, housing the entire
administrative staff for the Sector.
Although massive, there was no problem in reaching anyone, the internal
personal conveyancing system saw to that.
All that was required was a set of coordinates for any of the resident
personnel and the system did the rest,
Saron boarded one of the personal
conveyancing capsules and programmed it with the magnetic data card he had been
given. The data card receptor displayed
some extra digital data instructions and Saron assumed that this had informed
his host that he was on his way. Ten
minutes later, after travelling up, across, diagonally and horizontally in
various directions, along translucent, tube like transportation structures, and
after ascending a considerable number of floors, his capsule stopped. The screen door disappeared. He had arrived at his destination.
Stepping out, Saron was greeted by an
attractive, athletic‑looking young girl in a blue, close‑fitting,
outfit. Below her left shoulder was a
symbol that designated her rank. Judging
by its complexity, the girl was of a fairly high rank although its exact status
was beyond Saron's sphere of knowledge. He was asked to follow her and she
escorted him to a large office. Saron
could see as he entered that Tallus was sitting at the far end, away to the
right‑hand corner. He sat behind a
white, low‑level table‑like console but rose, as Saron approached,
to greet him.
"Saron. Welcome"
Tallus said warmly. "It's a
long time since we last met. It's nice
to see you again."
Saron returned his greeting equally
warmly.
"I expected to meet Metron"
Saron remarked.
"Ah, yes. Held over in a meeting somewhere in
Vagen. He sends you his apologies for
not being here but I am sure you know that I am fully familiar with Metron's
work."
"I'm confident you are as informed as
Metron himself" Saron replied.
"I well remember," Tallus went on to reminisce as if there was
no reason to get on with the business side of things, "there was that time
when you prevented my reaching the semi‑finals of the Elbano open Kalada
contest." He shook his head as he
smiled. "That was a great game.
After a game like that I was more than pleased that it was you who went
on to win. It's a bit of a consolation
if you are knocked out by the eventual champion."
Saron smiled. He remembered that contest well. Tallus was a
tall, athletic man, older than Saron but this was not too evident by his
appearance. He had a powerful build and had been a top Kalada player in his
time, having represented Caldas Darain for more than 30 years. The particular game he was recalling had
actually been one of the hardest and longest that Saron had ever played. At the time, Saron had considered himself
very fortunate to have won that game and was thrilled to have gone on to win
the Kalada championship for that year and for a few years after that.
But, those had been his peak years as a
Kalada player and, although he still played well, he no longer had the time to
practice what was, after all, a fast, dangerous and very competitive sport,
"Those days are long gone, alas"
said Saron "but I'm sure you're just as active and competitive in any of
the sports you have chosen to participate in since your Kalada days,"
"Ah, well, perhaps, but now it's
sports that are more compatible with my age" he chuckled. "I've ordered refreshments so we can
move on to the business for which you are here.
Agreeable to you?"
"Certainly" Saron responded,
taking on a more business‑like air, "I understand that my visit is
to do with planet 25.9.3. There is a project taking place there for which I
have overall supervisory responsibility.
Is it to do with that?"
"That's right. It is about that project that I want to talk
to you. It seems that one of Metron's
Sector Prefects, on a routine check flight to 25.9.3., came back with an
interim status check that shows some, eh, unexpected events."
"Oh?"
"Yes.
You may recall that Metron set up a team of two young observers from
Sector Surveillance to, eh, `keep an eye on things' on 25.9.3. during your
scheduled long absence from that planet and, I suspect, in view of the
sensitivity of certain members of the Sidereal Council to the project as a
whole."
Saron nodded thoughtfully.
"One of those observers has reported
that Jal, the central character in project Sek, whom I suppose you know
anyway......" Tallus paused....
"Yes, I've had personal encounters
with him and know him as well as anyone I dare say" Saron responded to the opportunity.
"I'm sure" Tallus came back in where he had left
off. "Anyway, this central
character has become emotionally involved with a girl from a locality
nearby."
"Emotionally involved?" Saron asked rhetorically. "That does not
in itself sound too serious. I suspect
there is more to it than that."
"Indeed more and that's......"
he stopped in mid sentence. The
refreshments had appeared, being brought in by a slim girl of dark, unusual but
striking features. She carefully laid
out the refreshments, food and drink, and departed without a word. Saron
recognised her as a native of Ssa, a planet where the inhabitants had no
audible means of communication.
"As I was saying" Tallus
continued, "and that's the reason for our meeting. The girl with whom Jal has become emotionally
involved is pregnant by him."
Saron looked puzzled and, at the same
time, surprised. "But, I
thought........" he started to say.
"..exactly" Tallus
interrupted. "It was thought that
the E‑factor had been modulated when the bioengineering process was
carried out. The records of the genetic
DNA formulae have been scanned and compared to the Paltean genome but nothing
has been found to prove it wasn't totally modulated. However, the pregnancy has been confirmed and
Jal is the only one with whom she has been intimate. Naturally, a later in-depth remote sensing
mediscan confirmed all these facts.
There remains no doubt that Jal is the procreator of the foetus."
"In that case, the original plan now
has to take into consideration factors that were not even anticipated when it was originated. I don't think they could possibly have been
foreseen, either" Saron remarked
after a pause as though thinking aloud.
"I suppose that all of this has been fed into Hadron, otherwise I
wouldn't be here."
Tallus nodded his head, so Saron went on.
"So, what's the programme to be from
here on in?"
"Well, Hadron has offered a number of
alternatives. The alternatives were
discussed at a meeting between Caldorosh and Metron and the one chosen is this
one." Tallus pointed to a folder on
his console and leaned across and picked it up.
The folder was coloured red, with white diagonal stripes. Along the top were symbols indicating that
it was highly secret. He handed it to Saron.
"Modification One to Project
Sek" Saron read the title aloud. He
looked up at Tallus who said "one, five, seven. " It was the entry
code.
Saron lightly touched the tactile‑sensitive
printed numbers on the outer cover in the order he had been given them. The folder contents were now freely
accessible to him. He opened the folder
and scanned the inner pages rapidly. It outlined the general strategy for
dealing with the new situation which had materialised on Terrea and gave, in
many instances, references for more detailed instructions or sources of
information on methods of action.
The overall plan was very
significant. In meant bringing project
Sek forward in time. That in itself was
no problem, but the strategy also contained an element that disturbed Saron. This was the specific instruction that all
Jal's memory of the girl with whom he had become intimate was to be
deleted. It was disturbing even though
Saron could see the reason behind the decision.
The relationship had placed the project in
jeopardy. If allowed to continue, it
would undoubtedly complicate the role that Jal was to play. It might cause Jal to resist the planned
course of events. His emotions would be
unbalanced. Saron knew from all that he had read and his past experience that the
project would have every chance of success only if Jal's mind was free of complicated
self-oriented emotions.
"I must admit to being a little
disturbed by the partial memory erasure process, Tallus" Jal commented
eventually. "It's not that we haven't the technology of sufficient
sophistication to carry out the process successfully ‑ I don't think
there has ever been a failure when this somewhat distasteful process has been
carried out ‑ but, the principle of the thing I've never been happy
with. As you know, as well as I do, I
feel sure, it has long been, eh, discouraged shall we say, to change the
original biogenetics of any of the higher order of living beings, other than
for medical reasons."
"Yes, I am aware of that" Tallus
responded, agreeing with Saron's sentiments, "but, can we really question
the decision of Hadron, particularly in view of the complexity of project Sek
and its advanced stage at this point in time.
The project is of great importance, not only for planet 3 itself and
Trac 9 in general, but it is even of importance to Sector 25 as a whole. With a successful project such as this, the
stability of Sector 25 will be reassured for a long time to come and will not
go without due acknowledgement by the current sceptics,"
Saron sat silently, enveloped in his
private thoughts. Tallus too sat
quietly, knowing that the modification plan disturbed Saron more than he had
anticipated and far more than it had disturbed Tallus himself when he had first
heard of it. It was true that such
modifications were against the Galactic Code of Practice but were not banned
outright because there were exceptional circumstances even in the case of the
higher order of living beings, the Ultimorphs.
In the case of Jal, it was possible that the partial memory erasure, PME
as it was known, had been authorised at the highest level because Jal himself
was the result of programmed biogenetic engineering. Maybe he did not strictly qualify for
protection under the Legal Code being of a classification that permitted PME to
go ahead.
After a lengthy period of silence, Saron spoke. "It will be done. I will make the necessary preparations right
away since I see that the orders require the task to be completed by 766953
Universal Time. Can you give me a check
on how many Terrean days that leaves me?"
Tallus touched a button on his console and
a keypad materialised. He entered some
figures, looked at a panel alongside, tapped in some more figures and finally
looked up at Saron. "Thirteen, excluding
the current day."
"Then I must waste no time" Saron said, rising from his very comfortable
chair, finishing his drink and collecting up the folder and other pieces of
paper belonging to it. He tucked the
Modification to Project Sek file under his arm and looked at Tallus.
"Splendid" Tallus remarked.
"I am impressed by your response Saron.
The decision to have you oversee project Sek was one of Metron's wisest,
perhaps. I've no doubt that he had more
than a little help from Hadron in making his choice."
Saron smiled spontaneously. "Almost as wise as the one to make you a
senior diplomat" he said, a slight chuckle impregnating his words.
They shook hands warmly, each having a
respect for the other as a man and as a professional person. Saron bade his
colleague `Akari', the universal expression for wishing someone good luck and
health and to the possibility of seeing the person at some future date.
"Akari" Tallus replied as Saron
turned and left for the transportation system.
Saron entered a transportation
capsule. Sitting down he hit the small
blue button below a miniature video screen.
"Control" said a voice as a face
appeared on the screen,
"Can you give me my accommodation
code'?" Saron requested,
"No need" Control responded,
"the capsule is already programmed.
You can initiate action."
"Thanks." Saron hit the blue button again.
He
then tapped the Initiate button and his capsule smoothly and silently
accelerated away to his allotted accommodation.
The
following morning Saron reported early to the Fulcrum Data Base. He sat in front of a visual display unit on
which were displayed instructions on how to activate the system. He laid the tips of his fingers of his left
hand on the moulded finger‑tip-like dwells to the left of the unit and
with his right hand tapped in the code for the project of amendments to the
original project Sek.
The code comprised a sequence of numerical
integers and symbols in a specific order and, as Saron finished feeding in the
data, there was an instant response. The
VDU lit up, a man's face having appeared.
"Saron, calling in from FDB on Caldas
Darain,"
"Receiving you" said the face.
"Request detailed instructions
relating to Modification One of Project Sek."
"Verification of authenticity
required" the face said. "I
will verify. Would you remain at the
VDU, please."
Saron waited. He looked around at the array of consoles
like the one at which he sat. All were
surrounded by transparent walls on three sides.
Some, but not all, were occupied.
They were access points on a complex neural communications network for
intergalactic traffic. Highly
confidential material could be securely dealt with when required. Authorised personnel could contact Paltea
direct and with many other parts of the galaxy indirectly from such complexes.
The blank screen wore a face again, this
time a smart young man, chewing something, "Your creds check out" the
face said. "The entire dts, eh,
sorry sir, details as requested, will be sent to you by meson capsule carried
by Courier. Should be with you at FDB
tomorrow daystart for you to collect without any probs."
"Message understood" Saron
politely responded although he could not help pulling a slight face at the
young man's manner. 'Young lad!' he thought. Saron reflected on the fact that
the information was put on meson capsule.
This was the highest form of security for information and far safer that
risking transmitting it over spatial distances even with today's sophisticated
photocoding and decoding devices. It was
just as well. Even if the information
had been transmitted it would have been for visual display only and possibly
would have been code‑protected and not have been allowed out of its
mesoparticle data form as a hard copy,
The meson capsule would be for direct in
ship use and this, thought Saron, was probably the best way in which he could
receive the information for assimilation,
He had no choice but to remain on Caldas
Darain for the rest of that day and one more night. There were many forms of delightful
entertainment available in Nokor. He
looked forward to sampling some.
6
It
was a little hotter than Jal really liked it to be when he rode along the
Parts of the journey were open and barren,
some parts were hilly and somewhat isolating for the traveller but here, as he
approached the pass, the view was absolutely picturesque. Stretching out before him was the long,
curved valley, predominantly brownish‑green from the colour of the trees
and the earth, and surrounded by pinnacles of hills that looked either pale or
black, depending on the time of day and how they were being washed by the sun.
The track itself turned and twisted
throughout its descent and, with each turn back towards the valley. It offered the traveller a different panorama
for his pleasure.
Jal was enjoying this journey no less than
any other trip before and was in a happy and relaxed frame of mind. Happy that he was on his way to see Mala and
relaxed by the sheer beauty of the vista afforded him by the landscape
ahead. But, his relaxed state of mind
suddenly changed. He heard, coming from
around the turning ahead of him, an almost imperceptible, but strange,
unfamiliar noise like the hum of a giant bee.
He was not worried, but he had now become alert, stirred out of his
laconic mood. He tried to link the noise
with a small wild animal or simply some rock falling, neither of which would be
uncommon and he peered ahead as he moved forward, waiting for the noise source
to come into view. He went on moving
forward until he saw, to his amazement, a sight that erased the concern from
his mind.
"Saron" Jal burst out,
surprising himself at being able to come out instantly with the name of the man
he had not seen for years. The shock of
seeing him must have jolted the memory.
"Jal" Saron replied. "It's nice to see you. I know about your journeys to Madensa and I
thought this was one of the better places to meet you." Saron paused. "There's such a lovely view from
here" he went on as he gazed out in the direction in which Jal had been
going. "The Passaka valley is very
beautiful, don't you think?"
Jal was impressed by Saron's
demeanour. A meeting out of the blue
like this in the middle of nowhere and Saron appearing as cool as though it
were on one of Tone's streets. He
answered Saron's question. "Yes, I
do. It is one of my favourite parts of the
journey."
Saron had taken up a position alongside
Jal, who had dismounted on seeing Saron, and they walked along, side by
side. "It is very hot for me"
he said to Jal, and added, "would you like a little refreshing wine to
drink? I have some here."
"Thank you, I would, very much"
Jal said, the thought of a refreshing drink ending his anxiety.
Saron produced a silver-coloured bottle,
pressed the side of the upper end, and the lid opened wide. Jal's eyes opened wider. He had never seen anything quite like it
before. He gazed in awe and could not
help blurting out the question "What is that?"
"That?" Saron looked at the
bottle. "That's my drink
holder. A modern form of goat's skin if
you like."
"I can't say that I have ever seen
anything like that in my life."
"Naturally" Saron responded. "It's from my world, where almost
everything would be beyond your understanding."
"Your world?" Jal asked. "What do you mean by `your world'? Some
other place?"
"Oh, far from here, a very long way
away."
"A long way from here" Jal
remarked pensively. "What is this world of yours called?"
"Paltea."
Saron knew that the name would mean
nothing to Jal.
"Paltea?" Jal echoed. "I've not heard the name."
"I am not surprised" Saron
laughed, "but, it may......." and he left the statement hang in the
air.
All the while the conversation had been
going on the two had been unhurriedly walking along a slowly descending
path. They had come to a spot where the
path forked with a small path leading off to the right. As they came to it, Jal could see along the
small path to a large flat and rounded piece of land shaped like a giant's
dinner plate. Jal knew the area by this
time and was aware that this part was normally empty, affording a view out
across the valley, but now, he could see a very large, shiny oval and flattish
object perched on four, tall, stalk‑like legs. He involuntarily gasped in
amazement. “What's that?" he asked
as he grabbed hold of Saron's arm.
Saron remained calm. "My ship, Jal, that's my ship," and
adding after a short pause "and, most of the time, my home also."
Jal could hardly take his eyes off the
startling sight he beheld. The `ship' as
Saron called it, stood higher off the ground than the height of a man. The body was itself twice the height of a man
and overall it had the length some eight to ten times its body height. The sides between the floor and the roof were
outwardly curved while the `roof' itself was dome shaped. From one end to the other it gleamed and
sparkled in the mid‑morning sun, the light‑reflecting sides
interrupted along their lengths by regularly‑shaped areas of dull glaze.
Jal turned to look at Saron, his eyes
still wide open and with almost visible question marks in them. "Ship?" he managed to squeeze from
his throat. "What kind of a ship is
that?"
Saron's composure did not change. "One that people from my world would
consider fairly commonplace and perhaps rather small." Saron said almost
matter‑of‑fact.
"Come" he added, "let's take a closer look."
Jal had to admit to himself he was afraid
and his first response was not to go, but Saron had a manner which dispelled
his fear and he started towards the huge metallic construction. He did not take more than a step before he
was stopped by the rope he was holding.
The donkey would not budge an inch. It was obvious to Jal that the bright metallic
monster had frightened the donkey too and it just stood its ground, in spite of
Jal's coaxing, pulling and, even, pushing.
Saron turned, and seeing Jal's problem,
came back, reached out and placed his open hand on the donkey's blaze, gently
running his hand down towards the nostrils.
The donkey began to walk forward and continued to do so in contact with
Saron's hand as Saron and Jal went towards the spaceship. They walked into the shade of the ship, Jal
gazing upwards in wonder almost the whole time.
Saron opened up his stride to take him a pace or two ahead of Jal and,
on reaching the centre of the underside of the ship looked upwards, held his
arm upwards and pointed to the underside of the ship. He made no sound.
Jal thought Saron was pointing out
something to him and looked to where he was indicating, only to see a long
metal arm descend from the underside of the huge overhead construction,
unfolding as it did so to form a stairway as it touched the ground. Jal did not know what he was seeing, but
whatever it was it was miraculous and magical to him, something akin to the
work of god.
"Saron, are you some kind of god or
something?"
Saron laughed. "Gods are those you
see as gods" he replied.
"Come."
Jal, overwhelmed by the whole enormity of
the spaceship, the descent of the metallic staircase, the way in which Saron
appeared to have silently commanded its appearance and the way he had persuaded
the donkey to approach the vast and strange vehicle, followed Saron up the
metallic staircase in a daze. At the top
they entered a small chamber that was lined on all sides with glass and through
which could be seen a larger chamber.
The glass door silently disappeared as if it had evaporated and Saron
moved forward into the large chamber.
Here it was colourful spacious and
comfortable, without being too large.
Seats, well contoured for the human form and upholstered in a sand-coloured
material, were arranged along three sides of a square area in the middle of
which stood a multi‑faceted table.
The table had vertical faces, some of which had small inset screens,
others had inclined faces with touch-sensitive control matrices and others
were open to form small shelf spaces.
As Saron entered the large chamber, he
turned and stood aside and with a slight bow, bade Jal to enter. "Welcome to Takara, Jal, my work place,
living quarters and, for most of my life, my home."
Jal looked around him, trying to take in
and make sense of that which he could see.
Panels, lights, strange looking objects and furniture that even he, as a
carpenter, could hardly classify as to their function. The pieces of furniture were made of unusual
materials too, strange to the touch.
"Please be seated. " Saron
nodded in the direction of a seat.
Jal did so, sitting in a chair into which
he sank as the chair contoured itself around him.
"What is all this?" Jal thought
aloud and bewilderment riding on his words.
Saron could see that Jal was obviously
full of curiosity, unable to take it all in and did not want to disturb him
more than was absolutely unavoidable.
"I will explain it all." he said. "But, I think it will be better if I
start somewhere in the distant past, tell you how the past relates to the
present and show you what is to follow in the future. I think that is he best way."
"Tell me" he went on after a pause, "have you any
idea of what life was like here one thousand years ago?"
"A thousand years ago?" Jal was
surprised by the question. "I've
never even thought about life back as far as that. I suppose it would have been
much like it is today, wouldn't it?"
"No, not at all. By today's standards, man then was pretty
primitive. Look out there and tell me what
you see" he pointed at a `window' with a long thin cylindrical object
which he held in his hand. The object he
held looked like a slim torch but gave no light and was in fact his system
thought activator/transmitter. Using it
he could activate most of the systems within Takara. He could also use pure voice control but
thought that voice activation would be a little too much for Jal to accept at
this stage.
Jal looked at the `window' and through it
he appeared to be looking out on a living town square.
"It looks like a town square in
Tone."
"That's near enough. Now what do you see?"
The scene had instantly changed and was
now of a village. There were, quite
obviously, fewer people than in the previous scene and they looked, in general,
simpler, or more primitive.
"I can see people, something like us
but, somehow, rather more simply dressed, eh, different........."
"Less civilised?" Saron asked.
"Well, yes." Jal hesitated.
"Yes, perhaps that is it. Less
civilised."
"You are looking at people who lived
in this area almost 1000 years ago, Jal.
Watch."
Saron thought‑commanded the system
and the three‑dimensional holographic visual display showed primitive
hunting scenes.
"That's how life was several thousands
of years before you were born. It is
enough I think, for you to see that life has not always been the same as it is
today. As time passes, life changes and
civilisations make progress. It always
has been so and always will be."
Jal could hear Saron but his eyes were
fixed on the visual display. "We
can also see how life will progress on Terea" Saron continued.
"You mean, look into the
future?" Jal had anxiety in his voice.
"But that is like dealing with the unknown."
"The future of your world, Jal, is
the past of mine and many others. Trust
me until you are sure in your own mind that you can believe all of this."
The view in the "window' changed from
one scene to another, each merging with its successor, depicting both warlike
and peaceful scenes at intervals over thousands of years as man progressed from
being a primitive warrior to man voyaging into space to explore his near
universe. The unhurried display went on
for more than an hour, Jal remaining spellbound for the entire show. When it came to the end he remained silent as
though stunned by the enormity of what he had seen pass before his eyes.
"I'll get you something to
drink" Saron said as he rose from his seat. He crossed the room and disappeared into another. Although he had gone for only a few minutes,
it was enough for Jal to feel uneasy with fear as he sat alone.
Saron returned quickly. "This will
refresh you." He handed a goblet to
Jal.
Jal drank from the goblet he had been
given. He took the drink slowly and
thoughtfully. Saron watched him, but
remained silent. When Jal had finished
the drink, he sat silently, still looking in the direction of the `window' which
now showed the peaceful Passaka valley.
"You have many questions on your mind
Jal" Saron broke the silence.
"I will answer them all. Ask
whatever you want to, when you are ready."
"Yes, I have some questions."
Jal responded, "but where to start?
I wonder what sort of magic I have been watching and how you are able to
do it? Who are those people..... ?"
he asked as he pointed at where the screen had been.
"It is right that you should have
many questions Jal. Intelligent ones,
too" Saron added a lighthearted
touch. "Let me tell you what you
have been watching."
"The window through which you have
been looking is part of a system of advanced science. Another piece of the system is capable of
making the images or pictures that you saw.
The system has a memory also and is able to store more information than
thousands of human beings. I commanded
the system to show you how life was at different times in the past, at one
thousand and at several thousand years ago, and to show you how life will be
here on Terrea in a couple of thousand years from now.
"From these pictures, and this is
what I hope you will understand, you have evidence that we human beings are
forever changing in our lifestyle. Some
of what you saw of the future was of human beings soaring through the skies in
metallic vehicles. These people are not
of another world, but will be of this one.
You can see from the information that has been shown in pictorial form
that changes in the scientific knowledge and the social structure of mankind
has gone on for a long time and, there is no doubt, will continue. The future pace of progress will accelerate.
"What we have just been looking at is
what has happened and we have seen what is forecast to happen based on our
knowledge of other worlds. On other
worlds, this stage of development we have here now may have happened thousands
of years ago, while other worlds have yet to see what has already happened
here."
"Other worlds" Jal almost
whispered the words, "what does that actually mean?"
"Other worlds, such as the one from
which I come. You see, Jal, when you
look up at the sky at night, the thousands of stars you see are part of a
galaxy of millions of celestial bodies.
Each one of those stars, although only a twinkle in the sky, is, in
fact, a sun just like the sun we see here every day"
"If they are suns, why are they not
warm and bright and huge like the sun we know?
They are small and dim."
"That's how it appears to us here on
Terrea" Saron replied. "Because the other suns, the stars as we
know them, are millions upon millions of miles away. Our sun is also a star to people on other
worlds but is totally different to us here because it is very, very close by
comparison to other suns. It is close
enough to keep Terrea warm enough for all the living things here to survive."
Saron gave Jal some time for the
information to register. After some time
he went on with his explanation.
"The other worlds, you see, are
planets bound by invisible bonds to many of those stars just like this planet
is bound to the sun we know."
"Does that mean that for every star
we see there is another world?"
"No, far from it. Very few of the stars have planets on which
life exists. Several hundred, perhaps,
maybe a few thousand, I am not sure what the exact count is, but there are
hundreds of thousands of stars.
"Many worlds which have life, rather
than having life the same as we have it here on Terrea, are different, many are
unique although there are many which have almost identical ways of life to
Terrea. However, each world is quite
different in its stage of development.
This is how we can predict how life on any one planet will
progress."
Jal's head was buzzing with questions he
found difficulty in putting into words.
His brain was trying to come to grips with and assimilate all that he
had seen in the past few hours. It was
not an easy task. It was like being
transported thousands of years forward in time and seeing the technology of
that era. At the same time he had been
able to `see' back some thousands of years in time also. It was a lot for him to cope with and the
effort needed to try made him feel quite tired.
His questions to Saron started to become mumbled as he tried hard to put
them sensibly to him. His eyes, fighting
to stay open, closed then opened again before closing for a few seconds and
then opening suddenly. His eyes finally
closed and enveloped him in the darkness, relaxation and warmth of the sleep he
had desperately tried to avoid.
Saron looked at Jal and smiled a warm and
kindly smile that Jal would have been pleased to see had he not been so soundly
asleep. Aloud he said "Sleep
Jal. Rest your mind and body. You have learnt a lot but you will have a
much greater wisdom when you wake."
Walking over to Jal, Saron picked him up
as though he were weightless and carried him to a small but comfortable room
where he laid him on a waist‑high pressure-neutral plinth. On the wall was a panel from which Saron
pulled out three small pads and placed one to each temple and one on the back
of Jal's head. When he was satisfied
that they were placed correctly and comfortably, he pressed several keys on the
panel in sequence. An almost
imperceptible hum purred from the layzine‑energised system while the
three pads glowed in fluorescent hues of violet, green and blue. The hum lasted only a few moments, the
glowing lights went on fluorescing.
The pleasure in the way things had gone so
smoothly was reflected in the look on Saron's face as he left the small room to
Jal alone. Jal would undergo a painless
brain modification process and would be aware of nothing when he awoke.
It
was almost forty‑eight hours later when Jal, unaware of the passage of
any time at all, woke. He saw strange
surroundings and sat bolt upright with a start.
He wondered where he was and became slightly distressed. At that moment Saron walked in, having been
alerted by his monitoring system to the fact that Jal was waking up. He had visited Jal several times during his
long sleep, a sleep that had lasted long beyond the time needed for the PME
process of brain modification. It was a
good indication that the process had been successful. Jal would no longer remember anything about
Mala. She and Madensa would be a person
and a place completely removed from his memory.
The memory modification process had
involved more than the renewal, by genetic disorientation and re‑orientation,
of part of the memory. It had involved
the complete analysis of Jal's brainwave pattern, his intelligence level,
mental capacity and information quotient.
The program had also fed to Jal's brain a great deal of Paltean related
information, on the social structure and general educational knowledge that he
would have acquired in the normal way had he lived in Saron's world. It had checked and consolidated knowledge
that he had only just acquired from Saron and the visivista presentation.
"You slept well?" The tenor of Saron's voice helping to soothe
Jal's confused thoughts. Jal now had an
awareness of where he was, in Saron's spaceship to which he had been invited
after meeting him on his way to.... For the moment it had escaped Jal's
thoughts as to where he had been going.
He could remember Saron introducing him to a magical sequence of events,
although he felt no anxiety in recalling what he had seen. It no longer left
him with the impression that it had been magical, but more of a novelty. He seemed to acquire quickly a calmness and
acceptance of all he saw around him. He
was no longer frightened, or anxious, and began to feel pleased that he could
accept things so calmly. He began to
feel more curious about things and yet bold enough to want to satisfy his
curiosity.
"Yes thank you" he responded to Saron's question. "I seemed to have slept rather
well." His voice was normal and
calm. "I feel very refreshed."
"Excellent" Saron remarked. "Would you like something to eat?"
"Thank you, yes. I would" Jal
felt slightly hungry at the mention of food.
Saron was able to provide Jal with a
refreshing `breakfast', some of which was familiar to Jal, some of which was
not. This was deliberate on the part of
Saron who watched Jal's reaction as first he saw it and then he ate it. Jal showed no surprise at all towards the new
foods and took to them as any man with a healthy appetite would take to a
plateful of pleasantly presented fare.
Jal and Saron engaged themselves in a
light and pleasant conversation as Jal ate with obvious pleasure. The topics ranged over a wide spectrum, Saron
taking the opportunity of subtly probing Jal's newly acquired areas of
knowledge and of subject matter that Jal could not possibly have had two days
earlier. The conversation went on after
Jal had finished eating as both seemed to enjoy talking, Jal seeming to do so
as much as he did eating.
After almost two hours of conversation,
Saron was extremely pleased. He was
convinced that all was well and that there were no foreseeable problems in
proceeding with the next phase of the Modification Programme for Project Sek.
Saron had steered the conversation to
their earlier meeting so that Jal was reminded of things discussed at that time
concerning the future role that Jal would play.
Jal's responses indicated that he was able to recall well his previous
contacts with Saron and that he was well prepared mentally to fulfil his role
whenever he would be called upon to do so. Saron thought that now would be a
good time to demonstrate to Jal that since he was a special person he would be
able to acquire powers beyond those of his fellow men. In other words powers that were more than
ordinary humans could possibly have.
"Jal, come outside the ship with me,
I'd like to show you something" he
requested. Jal stood up and, together,
they walked over to the opaque white door which dematerialised as they
approached it. They walked out through
the exit and down the steps, to the ground beneath the ship.
Below the ship, in its shadow it was cool,
although a warm breeze gently wafted its way through the stalk‑like legs
on which it stood. Jal noticed the
donkey, curled up on the floor, surrounded by remnants of his feed and
obviously contented, being half‑asleep.
Saron walked some way from the ship with
Jal following and stopped after some 60 paces, in the shade of some rocks. As he stopped, Jal stopped alongside. Saron pointed to an isolated stone that was
clearly visible some 10 paces away.
"That stone there. Can you see it, Jal?"
"Yes, of course." Jal wondered
why Saron was testing his eyesight at this stage.
"Watch" Saron gently requested.
Jal looked at the stone, at Saron, who
appeared to be looking intently at the stone and pointing to it with his index
finger, and back at the stone. Suddenly
there was a sharp cracking sound and the stone split into four or five parts,
the parts flying apart. Jal stepped,
almost jumped back in uninhibited surprise, his arms up across his eyes.
"What happened?” he blurted out
loudly.
"What you have just seen" Saron
replied, "is a demonstration of what is called `telekinesis' by many
people. It is a power to remotely apply
energy. It was at one time learned but
now I and many of my fellow men have it as an inherited quality, to a greater
or lesser degree."
"Do you mean to say that you made
that stone split like that as though it were struck by my hammer, without even
touching it?" Jal asked in disbelief.
"Yes, I did it without touching
it. But" he added, "it was no
easy feat, even for me. I did it only to
show you that there are powers which are available to some people that are
beyond even the belief of others, your fellow men for example." He paused.
"We have many other powers."
"Beyond our belief? I have no doubt about that" Jal
responded. "But other powers. What
are they?"
"Thought transference, with which you
already have had some ‑ unknown to you at the time ‑
acquaintance," Saron opened, "and, through a great deal of
technological development, other powers that you would find difficult to
believe. For instance, levitation, where
we can lift objects off the ground without touching them; force fields that
invisibly restrict movement or protect areas; the restoration of sight to blind
people; we can restore speech to the dumb and the ability to walk to the lame;
we can store vast amounts of information on tiny particles of matter, control
the visibility of light...... I could go on but I think that is enough for
now." He paused to take a breath
and allow Jal to take it all in. "I
am mentioning only some of the powers and have chosen those that are more
relevant to this planet and its environment."
Jal just listened intently, saying not a
word as Saron continued. "On a
universal basis we have powers to control entire environments, we can populate
planets on a selective basis, travel through the star‑laden
skies......... but enough, I must not go on. I know you are able to understand
and assimilate what I am saying and some time in the future I will tell you
more, but for now, it is only important that you understand the enormity of
powers that some humans can possess. It
is a power similar to that which you will be given and taught to control. Taught until you are performance‑perfect."
"You mean that I will have such
powers, to do the things you mentioned?"
"Some."
"And is this all part of the role I
am to play in my own destiny and, as you've said, the destiny of
others?" Jal asked without any
emotion in his voice.
"It is - yes - it is" Saron
replied softly and slowly. "The
role you have to play is vital to the well‑being of your fellow men, in
the near future and for years to come.
It has to be played convincingly and realistically and you will have all
the ability and power that is needed to fulfil the role. You will have the capacity to perform acts
that you might think are not possible if I were to describe them to you, but as
and when you are taught how to use those powers, you will realise just how
strong those powers are and, by that time, the reason why they were given to
you."
"It's strange" Jal said, "but
I do not find it difficult to take in anything you have said. I feel as though
I have been told these things before and I have just been reminded of them. It's
strange!"
"You have been well prepared Jal, but
I think we have covered enough ground for the time being and it will be better
if we relax and have some refreshments.
After that we can take our leave of each other and go on our ways."
Jal nodded his head thoughtfully, in
total agreement.
7
Jaml
and Mya were much happier now. They had
seen Jal develop rapidly over the past ten years. They had been anxious when they had been
visited by Saron who had told them then that they had now to expect changes in
Jal's behaviour. He had told them that
he had been commanded to make changes to Jal's `recollection of events', as he
had put it, to eliminate from Jal's mind all knowledge of his visit to Madensa
and of his relationship with Mala.
Saron had told them it had been necessary
to clear Jal's mind in order to increase Jal's acquisition of knowledge of the
desires of his people and to expand on his new philosophy. They had been very anxious at first although
reassured by Saron and they had been sworn to secrecy which made it more
difficult to bear. They could say
nothing to Jal. Just observe his
development and progress. They were
calmer about things now that they had seen his maturing normally without any
apparent recollection of Madensa or Mala.
Jal was fortunate. He had been allowed to preach in the temple
at Tone and had preached in line with orthodox Prolian teaching. He was careful to avoid expressing his own
differing views from those of the Prols, the religious leaders, knowing that he
needed the experience of expounding the prophesies of the priests much more
than expounding the feelings that lived within him - although he desperately
wanted to do so, and of being accepted by the people. He could see so much hypocrisy in the
teachings of the Prols that, sometimes, he felt that he too was being
hypocritical expressing their views.
Saron had visited him many times in the
last ten years and had taught him so much: how to focus his own remarkable
Paltean powers to a fine point of application in order to optimise the
concentration of energy for maximum effect.
In the laboratory of Saron's ship Takara, Jal had learned a great deal
about many esoteric subjects. Initially
he had concentrated on human physiology.
He had been taught by Saron the importance of the zaral powered Tal, a
device that was used to reverse tissue degeneration, revitalise all life
processes and rearrange metabolic systems.
He was taught other things, constantly being trained and groomed by
Saron to play fully his role as a charismatic miracle worker.
Although Jal realised he still had a long
way to go and a great deal to learn, he could hardly suppress his excitement
when, out of the blue one day, Saron told him that the project was to take a
major step forward. He brought up a
subject he had never hinted at before.
"You know how we have been receiving
increasing reports of the teachings and work being done by Gall Marat and the
effect it is having on the people." Saron remarked to Jal one day.
Jal nodded. "I do, indeed. I have been very
impressed by the work he has been doing and the effect it seems to be having on
the masses of people. In fact, I have
been trying to figure out if any of this fits in with my role and why it is
happening around about this time."
"Indeed, Jal. It is yet another part of the
preparation." Saron remarked.
"We need Gall Marat to play a major part in our ongoing plans. Many people look upon him with great respect. As part of his work, he periodically baptises
those with sufficient faith in God, in the Eruta river. Now, Jal, the next vital step in our plans is
to have you baptised by him at one of his most popular baptism spots,
Anoch."
Jal was curious. "Can you tell me why
it is necessary to do this?" he enquired gently. "I thought my role is to create an indelible
impression on the multitudes. Does my
baptism form part of that process?'
"Your baptism, Jal" Saron
emphasised the word `baptism', "will be special." An unmistakeable twinkle appeared in his eye. "We will put on a display that will
leave all those who see it in no doubt that you are more than an ordinary man
of this world. Already Gall Marat has
preached of the coming of a spiritual leader and the people are virtually
prepared for some major event. The time
is now about right."
Saron outlined his plans for the day of
the baptism. He had planned that as the
baptismal event is taking place, he, Saron, would manipulate a piezoelectric
generator to energise the air particulates to form some apparitions or light
forms that would appear as heavenly guardians.
They would have the appearance of floating in the sky. Saron would then
use voice projection and amplification techniques to impose a compelling
message on the gathered crowd.
"Are you implying that I am now ready
to step into my long‑awaited role." Jal asked with some excitement
creeping into his voice.
"Almost." Saron replied. "Almost.
But" he added, "we will have to spend some time together after
the baptism to complete the learning process and, we must not forget an essential
element - you will have to have your zaral Tal permanently implanted. However, for now, what we have to do is to
start tomorrow the preparation for you to leave soon for Anoch."
Jal could feel himself becoming keyed up
and having to control a sense of urgency to get on with this adventure which he
now believed would last the rest of his life.
He felt keen but calm and was aware of the absence of excitement which
he had felt at times when he had thought about the future that had been shown
to him by Saron.
Even Saron seemed to Jal to have a hint of
excitement in his voice as he said to him "We are about to start on a
venture for which we have prepared for a very long time." He seemed to be
looking forward to the next stage. "I am going to make the first major
step, your baptism, an unforgettable event." he said.
It
was not until almost two weeks had passed that Jal arrived in Anoch. There had been one or two delays on the
journey but it posed no problems to the major reason for which Jal had come
there. He would now have less time to
spend in Anoch prior to the baptismal event than he had originally thought he
would have.
Anoch was a busy town. When Jal arrived the streets were bustling
with people. Local trades people,
stallholders and merchants were all doing business with peasants, farmers and
travellers, wealthy and otherwise who were all there, rubbing shoulders with
each other. The crowd, now jostling
among the stalls, had been attracted to Anoch because they had heard of the
impending visit of Gall Marat. News, or
rumours of his next mass baptism in the nearby River Eruta, had been filtering
through to the region for a long time.
Among the crowd could be seen the occasional pair of long‑robed
Prols. They had undoubtedly come to observe the events of which they did not
approve but had been reluctant to publicly disapprove and so could do nothing
to prevent. The atmosphere was building
up to rival that created when a celebratory carnival is about to take
place. This was not an unusual effect
caused by an impending visit of the now revered Gall Marat.
When Jal had been in Anoch for two days,
sampling the atmosphere and mingling with the different kinds of people, he
knew through the heightened excitement, that Gall Marat had arrived and had
started his mass baptisms down by the river on the outskirts of the town. He felt compelled to go and see just what
happened at these events. He had heard a
lot about these mass baptisms but had never seen one.
There was no mistaking it, the area down
by the river throbbed with the noise of people. Voices, some talking, some calling out, some
people bathing in the waters and some just there as spectators, as Jal wanted
to be. He was able to take it all in,
looking around him in a calm and easy manner as he strolled towards the
activity. As he approached, he could see
down towards the river itself where a thick throng of people were and where, he
sensed, Gall Marat would be. The thick
throng milled around in the shallows.
Jal
made for this area so that he could get a close look at what was
happening. He could see Gall Marat
taking people in turn and, dipping their heads below the water, baptising them
by offering their spirit to God. Jal got
caught up in the atmosphere that prevailed everywhere, became excited and
impulsively changed his mind about waiting for Saron to contact him. He did not know when Saron would be
appearing, but as far as he could tell, this was what Saron had wanted him to
do. He had not seen Saron since he set
out for Anoch so he proceeded with what he thought it best to do and went to
join the long line of people waiting for Marat's baptisms.
He was just about to reach the edge of the
mass when Marat, as if sensing the presence of something, turned and looked
towards Jal. For a few long moments
Marat looked at Jal and Jal, not quite knowing what to expect, stopped. Gall Marat raised his arm and beckoned to Jal
in a gesture of encouragement to come forward and Jal moved again towards him
as he stood knee‑deep in the water.
The crowd, many turning to see to whom
Marat was beckoning, fell back to make a path for this man who was obviously
known to Marat and who walked with such a calm demeanour and upright stature,
almost exuding authority.
Jal walked unhesitatingly towards Marat
and stopped when he was several yards away.
The crowd had almost fallen silent as if
commanded to do so and Jal could hear the lapping of the water around Marat's
knees. He held out both hands at arms
length towards Jal and said "I am happy that you have come to this place
this day."
"I have come to be baptised by you,
Gall Marat" Jal responded. "I
have heard much about you"
"You have come to be baptised by
me?" Marat asked. "It is I who
should be baptised by you."
The crowd were surprised, even astonished
to hear Gall Marat, the evangelist whom the people of all Sibotaga revered,
utter such words. Who could this
stranger be, they wondered. Who is it
that the great Gall Marat treats so reverently
"Come" he bade Jal. "I will do as you wish."
Jal walked into the water closer to
Marat. The atmosphere became tinged with
excitement, the crowd seemed to be anticipating some special baptismal event. They collectively sensed that something
unusual was about to take place. They
watched in wonder as Jal lowered himself into the water while Gall Marat
touched his forehead and looked up towards the heavens, uttering his baptismal
chant.
Even as he uttered the words, the sky
darkened as if a bright light had been dimmed inside a house. Clouds, which had been nowhere in sight
moments before, slipped rapidly across the otherwise clear sky and hid the
light of the sun as though they had been choreographed to do so. Against the darkened background, which served
as a contrasting backcloth, twenty luminescent white figures in human form
appeared, hovering overhead and moving around as though in a dance of
thanksgiving to the gods. The clouds
parted slightly on one side of the scene that had appeared in the heavenly
stage and from the apparent void in the sky came a loud musical fanfare
followed by a booming voice which poured down over everyone saying "This -
is the man - who will show you the truth
- about god."
Pandemonium broke out. Some people fled. Others stood their ground as they shrunk down
in fear, others were clearly terrified and froze to the spot on which they
stood. Even Gall Marat looked stunned
and at a loss for words, but there was more to come as the scenario continued. A figure of a tall, well‑built man,
dressed in a flowing white robe and also glowing with a white luminescent
radiance, approached. Not from across
the water, but from, it appeared, among the clouds themselves which still
obscured the sunlight. The dancing
figures, which some saw as men and women and others saw as god's messengers,
continued to hover, suspended in space while bathed in a radiating white light,
illuminating the surrounding darkness caused by the obscuring of the sun.
The man in white luminescence floated
regally towards Jal and Gall Marat and took Jal's hand. Jal knew the man must have been Saron, but
his face gave no indication of his recognition and neither one uttered a word
until the man in white commanded Jal to go with him.
"Come with me" was his simple
message, but the voice boomed out, more softly this time, but still with
authority and composure. Jal felt
himself become weightless as he was levitated from the water and transported
through the crowd, his feet almost, but just not quite, touching the ground as
though some mysterious power had made him lighter than the air around him. The crowd, with gasps of astonishment, fell
back like wheat in a windy field as Jal was carried through.
Jal could barely hold back from showing
his mixed emotions, not the least of which was fear, that swirled around inside
of him. At the same time he knew that he
could show no emotion if the display created by Saron was to have its desired effect
on the vast crowd. With difficulty he
seemed to be able to control his outward appearance, calling on some inner
strength, as he moved to the outer fringes of the gathered people and then
moved beyond, further and further away.
He turned his head slightly to look over
his shoulder and could see the crowd of people gradually receding, getting
smaller and smaller until it could be seen no longer. The heavenly display had gradually faded, the
figures and the clouds dispersing as the sun regained its light and
warmth. He became aware of the deafening
silence, as the figure in white, whom Jal was now quite convinced was Saron,
still bore him over the ground onward and onward.
Apart from Saron's command to Jal to
"come with me" neither had uttered a word since the scene with Gall
Marat, some 30 minutes earlier.
Eventually, Saron stopped and Jal's feet
contacted the ground, giving Jal a feeling that for the past half hour he must
have been weightless. Saron, obviously delighted, turned to Jal and smiled.
"I feel we have achieved a baptismal
that was sufficiently striking, wouldn't you say so, Jal?"
Jal relaxed and let out a deep
breath. "It was most
impressive" he remarked. "I
was as surprised as anyone by the events even though I was ready to accept that
something unusual might happen. On top
of that, your carrying me over the ground the way you did was
unbelievable. How did you do that?"
"To you unbelievable, perhaps, but
just one of the powers we Palteans have ‑ and learn to control"
Saron replied. "Which brings me to
why I have brought you here to this uninhabited area. It is to learn about your powers, to have
your zaral Tal implanted and to learn the fine tuning of the control of those
powers. Then we can discuss the
programme of your future teachings and the direction of your own brand of
philosophy."
"A zaral Tal? So, I am to have my own one fitted?"
"Yes. that's right. I don't think I have told you about the
Tal. A zaral is a small device made of
crin‑structured substance that enables the wearer to power up his inner
transmittable energy force. Crin is a
manufactured material made from a substance found only on a world called
Trag. It is a substance that can be programmed
to give the wearer unlimited powers under controlled circumstances."
"Can I see mine?" Jal
asked. "This is something quite
exciting for me."
"I think I have mentioned that the
Tal is fitted below the skin and remains there forever or until physically
removed" Saron remarked. "Nothing exciting to look at but you
will be able to see yours soon."
As they had been talking Saron and Jal had
been strolling on in the direction Saron had carried Jal. They came to a clearing and there, among the
trees they could see Saron's ship.
"Takara" Jal remarked, with
both surprise and pleasure in his voice.
"It is" Saron confirmed. "Takara will be our home for the next
few months."
"I'm looking forward to every minute
of it" Jal replied.
The
days went by very quickly, slipping away into weeks and in what seemed like no
time at all the first month had gone.
During this time Jal had been learning so many things from Saron, most
of which would have been beyond the belief of ordinary human beings. If Jal had not been Paltean, even he would
not have been able to take in much of what Saron was teaching him. However, he absorbed and accepted, although
not without experiencing some excitement at times, all the things Saron taught
him and the ways of controlling those things around him. All the activities, and there were many, were
painstakingly practised until Jal's control over his mind, his thoughts and his
now‑implanted zaral‑powered Tal, were perfect.
At first his practice of revitalising bio‑kinetics
took place on small creatures. Then he
practised on small animals and even some sheep that Saron had been able to
locate somewhere nearby. Jal found he
could perform absolutely amazing feats: repairing broken limbs; the instant
healing of wounds; the driving out of infections; the restoration of impaired
sight; and finally, although not without a great deal of depletion of his own
body's resources, the bringing back to life of an apparently dead large animal.
Jal was not only diligently taught the
skills, but it was explained to him also what part they could play in the role
that he was to play in the destiny of mankind.
Jal was a dedicated pupil. He
learned well and practised hard and long, never accepting anything less than
perfection in his performance of any task.
He was never satisfied until he could perform his tasks time after time
with a repeatability that was perfect.
What was impressed on Jal was that the
miraculous healing powers were, in effect, a vehicle by which he could win
acceptance of his religious philosophy.
He was to influence the general public to accept a change of moral
standards. Every living person was
entitled to a life of fulfilment where the rewards earned would be equivalent
to the efforts put in and not according to the privileged position of the
individual.
The weeks turned to months and,
eventually,Saron felt sure that Jal had reached the point at which he was ready
to go back to the people from whence he had come and would be able to perform
acts they would see as miracles. On the
strength of his revered position he could recommend a way of life that would
seem radical. These were the bases of
the overall project. He was ready to
play his part in the destiny of his fellow men.
Even to Saron, it was a momentous
moment. It was a crossing point, like a
young man's coming of age or his achieving some status of manhood. One of those important stages in a man's life
which are usually celebrated with tribal rituals in the countless thousands of
societies throughout the universe. There
was no such ceremony for Jal.
"Jal." Saron prepared to tell
Jal something significant. "You've been here now for more than eight weeks
during which time you have worked diligently and relentlessly. You have achieved all that it is possible to
achieve and the time has now arrived for you to put into practice all your
skills, all your knowledge, your intelligence, your power and, above all, your
philosophy. It is to be used to help
shape the future destiny of this world.
Your teachings will become the religion that will be followed by many,
many people - in your country and, eventually, others. The time has come for you to set out on your
own. All I have to give you is this
medallion as a token. Wear it all the
time. When you want to reach me,
visualise your thoughts, use your thought control code and I will be aware of
your need of me. I will come."
Jal reached out and slowly took the
medallion from Saron. He looked at it,
raised it and pressed it to his lips.
"I will wear it always and summon you
whenever I need you. But have no fear
Saron, although I shall not be afraid to summon you when I feel there is no
other choice, I hope it will rarely be necessary."
8
In
a distant part of the galaxy a thick and unpenetrable haze hung over Yanol as Scanner
I approached to within 50,000 miles.
Captain Kalaa looked at the control room's massive viewscreen which
showed the picture as picked out by the spaceship's space-energy ripple
scanners.
"Turn to starboard for surveillance
orbit” he commanded.
The ship changed course imperceptibly
except for the changing picture on the viewscreen.
"Surveillance orbit" came the
response from the pilot.
"On course for 30,000 miles high
orbital trajectory, equal apogee and perigee" the navigator reported.
"Thirty‑five degree equatorial
inclinational orbit" Captain Kalaa commanded.
The ship's navigator acknowledged
"thirty‑five degree, equatorial."
Scanner 1 moved lazily through the cosmos
into an ever decreasing transitional orbit.
"Zoom in for atmospheric scan"
the captain commanded.
Captain Kalaa viewed his screen intently,
looking for gaps in the clouds and smoke.
It billowed up here, swirled away there and in many ways indicated
underlying volatile activity. Brilliant
flashes of light could be seen coming randomly from different parts of the
planet even through the heavy haze.
"Orbital height now 15,000
miles" reported the navigator.
"M.R." Captain Kalaa
acknowledged.
The ship continued its seemingly lazy
orbital passage. The viewscreen showed
the changing picture.
"Orbital height 10 000 miles."
It was the navigator again.
"M.R." Captain Kalaa
acknowledged once more.
The ship's orbital speed was computer
adjusted to balance the lower orbit against the gravitational pull. The scanners electronically recorded all the
details and relayed them to a data bank below the screen but the orbital speed
and height gave no chance yet for direct visual appreciation. Captain Kalaa decided to lower the orbital
speed.
"Slow orbital speed to visual
acceptability” he commanded.
"Orbital speed reduction" echoed
the navigator.
"Permission to enter" came a
request in a cultured voice from outside the control room.
Captain Kalaa recognised the voice of
Commander Chrimills.
"Permission granted Commander"
he said, turning towards the door.
The flush doors to the control room
silently slipped aside and Commander Chrimills stepped inside. He stood about 175 centimetres in height and
weighed some 83 kilograms. He was well
built and good looking with dark wavy hair.
"Orbital height 4000" called out
the navigator.
"M.R." responded Kalaa in the
direction of the navigator before turning to Chrimills.
"Welcome, Commander. I hope you slept
well."
"I did, thank you Captain."
Chrimills replied. "I had an
excellent night's rest." He looked
at the view screen for some minutes, silent and transfixed. "My god, what a terrible event we are
witnessing."
"More the aftermath" Kalaa said.
"The planet has, to all intents and purposes, ceased to exist, as a
habitable planet that is. I know that you will find that particularly hard to
take Commander, since you yourself are almost a Yanolian."
"You are right on both counts,
Captain, but I am only a Yanolian by adoption" Chrimills's response was in a quiet
voice. "Although I first visited
Yanol when I was very young, I returned to the planet as its galactic cultural
orientation officer and have indelibly wonderful memories of the place. Some of my close friends from that time still
live there, if live is the right word."
Both men gazed silently at the viewscreen
watching the destructive turmoil still erupting on the planet below.
"What is the degree of destruction,
Captain?"
"Geologically, minimal. Physically, 80% destroyed. Biologically, well, progressively
total."
Chrimills turned away from the screen
feeling, and looking, as though the enormity of the event had sickened
him. There was no doubt it was hard for
him to take.
"Tell me Captain" he said after
a lengthy pause, "how did all this happen?"
"Have you not seen the lumistorical
scan, Commander?" Kalaa asked with a slight surprise in his voice,
although realising almost immediately that Chrimills would not have needed to
ask the question if he had have done.
"No I'm afraid I haven't"
Chrimills replied. "I haven't had
the opportunity. I am not as familiar
with the wonders of information gathering as you are Captain."
"Let us go the scanroom,
Commander" Kalaa suggested. "We can have a look at the historical
visirecord of events.'
They left the control room together,
through the doors that dematerialised on their approach and materialised after
they went through. On through a grey and
red brightly lit corridor they went as Kalaa tried to explain the `wonders' of
lumistorical scan techniques.
"We are able to collect information
on what led up to any event ‑ such as that which has taken place on Yanol
‑ by means of a lumiscan. The
process involves utilising the galactic probes on uninhabited planets that can
be situated light‑days, light‑weeks or, even light‑years,
away from monitored planets. On pure
monitoring duty the transmitted light from any planet is collected and
modulated, or compressed, for transmission purposes and to give an easily
retainable historical record. We can
then generate a detailed record of events, if ever it is thought necessary, by
transputer reassessment, or, in other words, stretching the available
compressed data back to its natural size.
When appropriately triggered, that is by quark meson detection, the
lumimonitors can focus in on the monitored source and absorb the quark‑meson
radiated energy. All this information
can be made available for projection in an unedited, or edited form."
"I am impressed." Chrimills
said.
"Fortunately, the probes monitoring
Yanol were functioning perfectly well before any problems arose there."
They had by this time reached the doors of
the scanroom which opened as they approached.
They stepped inside, into a small, almost square, theatre. On one side was a screen, while around the
room were chairs placed in an arrangement whereby no one chair was alongside
another, they all afforded the occupants a full view of the screen.
Kalaa sat in the seat which had a set of
controls fitted flush along the end of its arm.
This was obviously the executive chair occupied by the senior person
when any viewing took place. He deftly
ran his fingers over the controls and the screen lit up instantly.
Chrimills had by this time selected a seat
close to Kalaa and was lowering himself into it when the planet Yanol appeared
on the screen.
It was a beautiful sight. An almost perfect sphere coated in an
intermixing blue and white, tinged here and there with pale orange and the
whole world floating in space, illuminated by its nearby star.
"We can hyperscan the time
phase" Kalaa said, "but first, we'll have an edited pre-event
situation recall."
They
watched the screen as the Yanol story unfolded in pictures with a voice‑integrated
commentary.
"Yanol is a planet covered in land
and sea, with an atmosphere of nitrogen, carbon dioxide and oxygen, the latter
rich enough to support an air‑breathing population of highly intelligent
human beings. The people are of
different ethnic groups, live in different geographically defined areas, have
different degrees of colour in the skins, from white through brown and yellow
to black, and have many different cultures and religions. The planet is in the primitive nuclear power
age with this form of energy being universally used for industrial and
defensive purposes.
The voice integration was backed by
attractive scenes of forests, people in cities and people at various tasks of
work. Some scenes were of primitive
races in heavily forested areas but most were of advanced civilisations, people
in office environments, others of many groups of people at the seaside, on
coastal areas enjoying periods of relaxation, others taking their holidays on
mountains, some of which were snow‑capped and with skiers making full use
of the snow, green fields were seen and a vast array of domesticated animals
and wild animals in their natural environments.
In all, a beautiful planet on which anyone would wish to live.
"I hope this is not boring you,
Commander?"
"Not at all" Chrimills replied, "it is a mixture of
both pleasure and nostalgia but an excellent reminder of what I miss about
living on Yanol itself."
The voice integration
continued........." It was the coming of the industrial and later,
nuclear, power that led to development of some nations to a point where they
became far superior in economic, industrial and military terms to others and
some nations became far more advanced in a military capacity than in their
social structures as their economies developed.
Because of the historical way in which nations developed, where nations
fought each other for territorial gains, the economically superior nations made
the biggest gains and continued to develop their levels of armaments to levels
far beyond those needed for their defence.
The creation of massive arsenals of weapons arose because of the
traditional mutual mistrust among the small group of superior nations. The older system of armed struggles had left
historical mistrust also and the only answer sought by the wealthier nations
was to build up massive stockpiles of weapons.
It was always meant to be for strategically defensive purposes."
Chrimills listened with interest although he had lived on Yanol when
much of what was being covered by the narrator had taken place. The commentary continued.
"The early implantation of a
catalytic religious figure had not worked for the entire planet. Although followed by more than half of the
planet's population, the religious strategy within the imposed plan had not
been taken up by several of the superior nations and quite a number of the
smaller, less developed nations."
The beautiful scenes of the Yanolian
planet were still rolling across the screen, with interspersed shots of many of
the planets famous historical figures who had played their parts in shaping the
planets progress and many of the statesmen who had held power during the recent
past being shown as insert shots relative to the major scenes being shown on a
panoramic scale
"Co‑existence was the overriding
and essential factor that enabled people of differing races to live out their
chosen lifestyles. However, co-existence
for ever was too much to expect on a world that had seen conflict and wars of
one sort or another ever since it had been seeded with human life.
"There is no proof yet, to determine
if the catastrophic events that have taken place on Yanol were started
accidentally or deliberately, but concern was being voiced at recent Sidereal
Council meetings on Paltea about the existence of nations on Yanol having such
differing political philosophies and such powerful weapons of destruction. Whatever the details of what has taken place,
a holocaust has ensued......".
The scenes of beauty of the Yanolian
planet displayed on the screen were faded out and scenes of terrible
destruction were faded in. Destroyed
buildings, defoliated and decimated forests, raging fires, massive universal
pollution, sometimes scenes of bedraggled human‑like figures wandering in
small groups, disfigured, burnt and dirty, scenes of dead bodies lying around,
both humans and animals, smouldering corpses......
Chrimills started to fidget, uttering
small suppressed noises of shock and revulsion.
"....the entire planet is
contaminated up to Prohibition Grade. No
one is allowed to land on the planet without the highest authority. All its inhabitants are classified as non‑existent. The planet is unlikely to be used for life
development. An investigative review
will eventually be held........ "
The scenes of destruction continued to
enfold as Chrimills gripped and released the arms of his chair in obvious
distress. He sat there pale and tense.
"Would you like a drink,
Commander?" Kalaa switched off the
screen.
"Please." Chrimills nodded as he
quietly uttered the words. "I'm
sorry if I have temporarily relaxed my emotional control but....... "
"I quite understand" Kalaa
interrupted as he raised his hand to indicate that Chrimills need say no
more. "It's very understandable,
considering your involvement with the planet over a considerable number of
years."
A drink was brought for Chrimills who took
several quick but refreshing sips.
"Are you able to discover, at this stage, what brought all this
about?" he asked.
"The logged data is in meson capsule
and has yet to be analyzed. From that,
we will know, or at least have a pretty good idea, of what led to the start of
such a holocaust. In addition to that
data, several of Yanol's most recent geographical and anthropological
monitoring exercises data will be available.
When all the necessary people are together there will be a debriefing
session.
"I think I would like to be present when the final conclusions are
drawn from data analyses and debriefing." Chrimills said. "Such a catastrophic end to the planet
on which I spent so much of my executive time gives me many reasons why I would
like to know for myself all I can about its tragic demise."
"You are right, Commander. I have no doubt that your presence will be
required in any event since you were the galactic cultural supervisor for Yanol
for so many years."
"When do we return to Paltea
Captain?"
"By tomorrow daystart plus five we
should be on our way." Kalaa
replied. "By then we should have
logged enough data. Our mission will be
completed. In hypertrans we should be on
Paltea in 10 days."
Both men, by this time, were standing
ready to leave the scan room, Chrimills having a very thoughtful expression on
his face.
"Feel free to use any of the ship's
facilities, Commander, while you are here with us. Our ship has many more facilities than the
galactic traveller you were in before being transported across to us."
There was a nod of acknowledgement from
the Commander but he said nothing. The
look in his eyes was difficult to interpret.
It could have been sadness, Kalaa thought, it could have been anxiety,
it could have been regret.
Certainly Chrimills's mind was many, many miles away.
9
The
morning's silver mist sat lightly and peacefully on the green landscape of
Atraka, the capital of Paltea, a landscape which was daubed with blue and
gold. Contrasting with the calmness of
the natural environment, the air outside the chambers of the Galactic Executive
was charged with a high level of activity.
Silent trans‑galactic transportation vehicles descending from the
azure blue sky landing gently on the green terrain to offload their
passengers. Personnel, the importance
and ranking of whom were almost discernable by the size and design of their
cosmoships rather than by any personal opulence, made their way to the inner
sanctum.
Tubular shaped oval vehicles, circular
ones with various projections around their peripheries, some with no
discernable symmetry and others like spheres, parts of which rotated as they
slowly descended. Some of the ships were
multi‑coloured and externally beautiful, others were of a menacing
appearance, but without exception, they were internally designed to provide all
the necessary amenities for the comfort of the occupants as well as to be most
suitable for the type of journey necessary to bring them from their near or distant
base planets, across the vast cosmos, to Paltea.
Some of the journeys had taken weeks in
direct hypertrans flight. Others had had
to journey from inhabited planet to inhabited planet in a trans‑cosmos
planet hop. All had the same ultimate aim
‑ to attend the interplanetary galactic meeting of the Sidereal Quantums,
the Galactic Federation Council.
Inside the magnificent building the hub of
activity centred around the Federation Council Chamber where there was to take
place one of the most critical meetings for many, many years. Every Sector Leader in the galaxy, each a
Sidereal Quantum had been commanded to attend.
The main topic was to be the catastrophic events that had taken place on
Yanol.
For the first time in the memory of many,
the meeting got under way on the dot of the scheduled time, not to anyone's
surprise because of the anticipation of discussing the main topic on the
agenda, but to the pleasure of Calderosh who rapidly moved through the other
matters, the precedence of which was obligatory. They were all dealt with fully and
efficiently, but rapidly as though everyone was willing to co-operate in order
to deal expediently with matters that were trivial relative to Yanol.
When all the other business had been dealt
with, a silence fell over the gathering.
Calderosh had not seen the Council members so attentive for a long
time. It was understandable, since the
events that had taken place on Yanol were of great galactic interest. The interest was a vested one for all the
galactic leadership. What had actually
happened on Yanol? How had it all come
about? What could have been done to have prevented its happening? What lessons
were to be learned from the catastrophic event........?
Calderosh's voice broke the silence. "Sidereals" he said, and
paused. "As you all know, the main
topic of our agenda today is the series of events of unprecedented seriousness
that have taken place on Yanol. It is
not often, thanks to our carefully planned and monitored developmental
programmes over the countless years, and thanks to the intelligent guidance
from Hadron, that we have to discuss such a retrogressive event. However, it has happened and we are here
today to learn how and why. Let me start
by giving you a brief resumé of the historical development of Yanol.
"We have all been reminded by Hadron
that Yanol was a developmental planet that our ancestors had utilised for
millions of years. Not long after it had
reached a life‑supporting state of chemical and biological development,
our forefathers, in their wisdom, seeded it with a variety of plant and animal
life. Primitive forms of both, maybe,
but all in an endeavour to discover which combinations of the millions of life
forms of plants and animals in our galaxy would make our ever‑sought‑after
goal - an ideal world.
"Hadron has provided us with the
historical information and so we know that many animal and plant life forms
failed on Yanol. Different and distinct
ages materialised on the planet as the geology stabilised, life forms changed,
grew, combined, contrasted and competed.
Some animal life forms grew at such a prodigious rate as to change the
planet's mass and, as a result, changed its orbit, bringing bitterly cold and
unsurvivable weather for thousand and thousands of years.
"Eventually, however, the planet's
development reached a sufficiently advanced stage, with many biocompatible
higher life forms, for near‑man, and eventually man, to be
introduced. The planet's development was
classified as a success and many of the lessons learned from the experiments
there have been put into practice on other planets."
Calderosh went on with the historical
story of Yanol. Everyone listened
intently. they already had access to
information transmission on Yanol and it had long been available to them but
they were absorbed by Calderosh's oratory.
"The planet's progress was through
various primitive metallurgical eras, then came industrialisation, economic
growth and an increase in energy consumption and demand that was only satisfied
by the production of energy by means of nuclear fission and primitive
fusion. During its entire development it
had experienced inter‑racial conflict although several centuries had
recently passed without any major wars because the more powerful nations had
adequate nuclear strike capabilities and very high technological developments
in the fields of defensive surveillance systems.
"While the major nations were well
aware of the catastrophic results that a nuclear war would evoke, the mutual
retention of nuclear arms had acted as an appropriate deterrent and war itself
had become obsolete. Mutual annihilation
had been the planet's most powerful deterrent.
What had become difficult to control was the use of a nuclear destructive
force by any minor, or undisciplined small, but capable, nation.
"A great number of Yanolian nations
pursued their individual and somewhat independent political ways while, at the
same time, attempting to further their own religious and political
beliefs. We know that a phase had
developed where the common religion of a high number of individual nations
co-incided. The evidence collected seems
to point towards one of the most belligerent of these nations, one that had
long since had the capability of launching a destructive force, having done
just that - launched a nuclear attack on one of the powerful nations."
A hubhub of murmuring went around the
chamber, rapidly getting louder, as the Sidereals exchanged glances and
remarks, some showing signs of agitation and uneasiness.
"Yes, I know" Calderosh went
on. "It is theoretically one of
those impossibilities, but it appears to have happened. Numerous safety
precautions had been taken to avoid the launch of an attack by any one nation
by the threat of reciprocal retaliatory action by any one of the powerful
nations among those with differing, and sometimes opposing, ideologies.
"But there we are! What appears to have happened is that the
perpetrating nation infiltrated the universal monitoring system on a massive
scale over a long period of time, so that its nuclear missiles orbited as an undetectable part of the monitoring system
itself. A cunning ploy that could only
have been executed by an unscrupulous person ‑ or a madman."
Calderosh paused to take a sip of the
liquid from the container in front of him.
No one spoke.
"The planet, like all inhabited
planets, in fact, like all collective humanity, has its share of madmen. But as we all know societies can cope with
all kinds of people. In this case it
appears that the world had been content to major its monitoring activity on the
powerful nations and, as this had been so successful for such a long period in
its history, it had quite likely become complacent in its watch on other,
lesser, nations.
"We do not have definitive
information on each and every stage of events, but it seems that the
madman" Calderosh paused, "mad but highly intelligent, launched his
hitherto undetectable missiles in an attack on the central communication
network, thus rendering the primary back‑up systems inoperable. Chaos followed with each major nation
believing itself to be under attack from its ancient traditional enemy and
launching multiple, hypernuclear, missiles at its presumed attacker. The planet at this point, had set out on a
path of total and unstoppable destruction."
Calderosh went on. "We can all see
with our own eyes the terrible destruction that has been brought about by such
a callous and ruthless act." He had turned to his left and indicated, by a
slight movement of his arm, the opti‑scan display. A silence hung over the entire chamber. An almost deafening silence. Calderosh sat down in his chair, feeling the
effects of his lengthy and emotional speech.
No one spoke for some time until Calderosh
himself broke the silence "There" he said, "I have held court
long enough and now throw the meeting open to general discussion."
Still no voice was heard and a full minute
passed before anyone spoke. It was Darak who said, in his slow and
deliberate way, "I have many questions, Calderosh but have held my silence
to give other Sidereals a chance to put theirs before I start with mine."
Calderosh nodded his head several times in
appreciation.
"I have been told much by Hadron's
printout and much by the opti‑scan.
I have also had my mind refreshed and expanded by your excellent resumé,
Calderosh" he said, "but I feel there is still a lot to learn. For example" he went on, "why
would anyone, even a madman, want to initiate the total destruction of the
world in which he lives, when he does not have the means of escaping from that
world?"
Calderosh responded. "We do not think the madman's intention
was to destroy the planet."
"Then how and why did this thing
happen?" Darak had a hint of agitation in his voice.
"It seems that the madman - let's
call him 'M' - had the resources to develop a new type of controllable anti‑detection
field that he used to surround the planet-orbiting missile launchers and, we
deduce from our data, that he wanted to use the space‑borne launchers to
bargain with the superpowers."
"Bargain?" echoed Darak. "For what would he bargain?"
"A greater say in the planet's
destiny. A greater recognition of his beliefs
and those of his people and other minor nation's beliefs that were similar to
his own."
Before Darak could respond, Eld, the
leader of planet Vanid spoke. "The
cause sounds like a religious‑based conflict, which is very disturbing in
view of the philosophy we have preached historically."
"It certainly has the hallmarks of a
conflict among nations on a misguided planet" Darak said. "It gives me great concern that a
developed world, like Yanol, one in which Paltea has played a guiding, but
obviously not closely monitored, role, could end up in this dreadful and tragic
way, destroying itself."
Many voices around the table murmured
their agreement with Darak, but gradually, a silence fell over the whole of the
conference gathering.
The silence gave many of the sector
leaders a good opportunity to think.
Normally, decisions on any action of every debated item on the agenda
were taken before the meeting closed but, here, on this occasion, there was a
general appreciation that more time should be given to considering the Yanolian
events and several voiced that feeling.
After all, more details of the catastrophe
had just been revealed by Calderosh, his video presentation and his answers to
the questions that had been put to him had revealed more up‑to‑date
detail than that released earlier by Hadron.
"May I move that we adjourn the
meeting for today?" Darak
asked. "This will give us more time
to gather yet more information about some of the details just revealed to us. I
feel, and I may be speaking for others who feel the same way, that I would like
to discuss this with my fellow Sidereals, particularly those with whom I have
special common interests. Then, perhaps
we can return to the conference table.
Perhaps in, say, two days time."
"A sensible idea that seems to me,
Darak" Calderosh responded.
"All intergalactic communication and research services will be at the
disposal of anyone wishing to use them.
Any of the Sector Leaders present object?". As he spoke, Calderosh looked down along one
side of the table and up along the other.
All those present appeared to agree with him. No one appeared to dissent.
"It is agreed then,
gentlemen" Calderosh announced,
"the meeting will re‑convene in two days time."
They all rose and nodded towards Calderosh
as a mark of respect for his authority and, forming small, informal groups,
they moved unhurriedly out of the chamber.
It gradually emptied, leaving Calderosh to his troubled thoughts.
10
One
thing that could be said of Darak is that he took his responsibilities as
Sector Leader very seriously. They took
priority over everything else. He knew,
on this occasion, that he was duty-bound to find out as much as possible about
the background of the Yanolian tragedy.
He deputised his five top support
personnel to carry out intensive research, to thoroughly interrogate the
computerised reference material and to interview as many former temporary
inhabitants of Yanol and any current monitors who happened to have been away
from Yanol when the destruction process commenced and who were now contactable.
Darak's over‑riding aim was to base his judgement of the events on the
maximum amount of available information.
In this way, Darak felt, he would be doing
all he could to protect first, his own peoples, then the people of his Trac
and, it would logically follow, the population of his entire Sector. That is how he saw his role.
He sat in his private office within the
Sector Conference complex and studied some preliminary information reports that
had come from his support personnel. His
office had a magnificent view of the distant rolling hills which formed a
backdrop to the nearby office blocks and administrative buildings. Their aesthetically pleasing architectural
form detracted nothing from the beauty of the Atrakan landscape.
To the left was the landing area for
visiting personnel and it was to this area that Darak's attention was
drawn. There was obviously some
excitement being created by something.
He stood up and watched with interest as the emergency service vehicles
took up their positions. In the distant
sky Darak could see a large slow‑moving space ship approaching. He watched it get closer. As it did so he could see that there was
something fairly large resting in its opening underbelly. The activity around the landing pad increased
and the huge craft edged its way closer.
Darak could now see the object below its belly more clearly. It appeared to be a small space ship but it
looked much the worse for wear. It was
blackened and charred on the outside.
The huge craft, a freighting craft under
normal circumstances, hovered above the landing pad and lowered its six
legs. They touched the pad and locked in
position making the huge craft a stable structure. The small battered craft in the underbelly
was lowered on to a transporter and made secure by personnel clad in
safesuits. As it was being secured, some
security personnel went cautiously on board.
The securing was completed and the transporter carted the damaged ship
away to a nearby security bay. As this
was happening a platform descended from the side of the underbelly of the
craft. On the platform was a small team
of medics surrounding a mobile but stabilised stretcher carrier on which lay
someone, secured to enable the carrier to be mobilised.
A hoverambulance that had stood nearby
moved in, the stretcher carrier was wheeled on board, the doors closed and it
silently glided away. As the activity
which had been responsible for creating the air of excitement outside and
Darak's distraction inside began to peter out, Darak returned to his desk and
continued with his task of sifting through the Yanolian‑related
information. He was worried about what
caused the catastrophe and wanted to know more so that he could put forward
positive proposals to prevent it happening again. He wanted to be thorough and to assimilate as
much relative information as he could lay his hands on. He saw his task as one of immense
responsibility - responsibility for the future lives of many, many people. Most of the information with which he had
been presented so far was related to the time before the catastrophic event
took place. As he was coming to the end
of his first reading scan an amber light on his desk pulsated. It was the intercom system and he was being
called. He pressed the button alongside
the light.
"Yes?"
"Darak? Sir?. It's Alaf."
It was one of Darak's support staff.
"Yes, Alaf. What is it?"
"There's been an interesting
development, sir. Search and Rescue
services located a crippled personal conveyancer ship and had it brought in by
Freighter. They discovered it adrift in
the Yanolian Tract...... "
"The Yanolian Tract?" Darak
interrupted. "Was it trying to get
into....."
"No, Darak. That's what makes this event such an
interesting development. The ship was
out of Yanol......... "
"But I understood that Yanol had no
spacecraft. Isn't it too early in the
Yanolian development?"
"It wasn't exactly a spacecraft"
Alaf replied, "it was a fairly primitive planetary orbiting vehicle. It had been put into orbit just before the
nuclear catastrophe took place. It
suffered some damage while orbiting and its uncontrollable trajectory took it
out into space. But, the most
interesting point is that it is thought to have something to do with the
location where the entire event started on Yanol."
"Are you sure of those facts?"
Darak was becoming increasingly interested.
"From the information which I have
been able to obtain from reliable sources, yes." Alaf replied.
"Wait a moment" Darak looked up
at nothing in particular, "I have just witnessed what must have been the
landing of the very vehicle you are talking about. It could have been an hour ago. I think I saw at least one human being landed
also. Have you been able to pick up any
information on that aspect?"
"I'll check it out." Alaf
responded.
Alaf finished his conversation with Darak
and set about investigating the latest development. Darak had just mentioned
witnessing the arrival of a crippled ship and the possibility of a surviving
human. That was worth
investigating. An hour later he was back
on the intercom to Darak.
"You are right, sir. There was a man on the Yanolian orbiter when
it was rescued. He's at the Medicsarena
and in pretty bad shape, barely expected to survive. Suffering from radiation effects as well as
inflight adverse reaction." Alaf
gave quickly as much information as he had been able to obtain.
"Can he be debriefed?"
"Only on the highest authority, I
believe, Darak. You could authorise it,
sir" he added.
Darak thought for a moment.
"Meet me at the Medicsarena in ten
minutes" he instructed Alaf, "and bring Zuc with you."
"We'll meet you there in ten,
sir." Alaf confirmed the instruction.
Darak rose from his desk and made his way
to the Medicsarena. He met Alaf and Zuc,
his two support personnel, in the reception area and, waving his authorostat, obtained
permission to visit the Yanolian who had been brought in with the crippled
orbiter. All three proceeded to room RS
191 where the Yanolian was hospitalised.
As they went along Darak suddenly
stopped.
"Damn" he exclaimed, "we
will have language problems here." He paused. "Alaf, obtain a recorder and Zuc, find
out who is the Galactic Monitor for Yanol.
If you can locate him, see if you can arrange for him to come to Atraka
and to meet me to deal with a matter classified as, well, let's say
‘important’.
"Right, sir." Zuc responded
enthusiastically. Zuc extracted his communicator from his pocket and attached
it, with a perceptible click, to a nearby yellow disc, where it clung as though
attracted by an invisible force.
Darak went on to the designated room. There was no problem in finding room RS
191. He approached the door and spoke.
"Darak of Galan. I have authority to
enter."
The door slid aside absolutely silently
and Darak stepped inside. On entering,
Darak could see that there were several medics in the room, two monitoring some
instrumentation, and one watching over the Yanolian. He lay on the bed wearing only a pair of
briefs, but he was totally enclosed in a transparent hood that covered the
whole of the bed.
Darak walked towards the bed and could see
that the patient was badly disfigured.
Almost the whole body was covered in blisters, with some areas having no
skin at all. It was a pretty awful sight
and Darak had to exercise all his self‑control to avoid retching. He looked up at the medic who was visually
observing the injured man.
"Is he conscious?" he asked.
The medic looked up and could see by
Darak's insignia that he was of the highest order of authority. "Barely, sir" he replied, adding
"I don't think he has much chance of survival."
"Can I speak to him?"
"You can try, sir."
"Do you know his name?" Darak
asked.
"All we have to go on at this stage
is the label on the remains of his outer garment. That reads ‘Agroubi’."
Darak stepped closer to the bed and leaned
forward. As he did so the Yanolian
squeezed a moaning sound from his throat.
Darak turned to the medic
"He is trying to speak."
The silent door to the ward opened as
Darak spoke and Alaf and Zuc entered after a brief exchange of words with the
two medics close to the entrance.
"I have the recorder" Alaf said
with a degree of pleasure.
"Good" Darak replied,
"activate it in connect mode."
While Alaf attached the recording device
to the end of the transparent bed canopy, Darak continued to make some kind of
visual contact with the Yanolian as he had tried to do before his support team
had arrived. Darak was aware of the fact that the man would not understand
Darak's language but he hoped to invoke some kind of verbal reaction from the
Yanolian which would be recorded and, later, translated by a photon lingual
neural converter.
"Agroubi, can you hear me" Darak
asked.
The Yanolian's eyelids flickered, half
opening, then closing, then fluttering.
He desperately tried to speak.
Sounds came from his mouth but it was impossible to say if he actually
`spoke' or just made noises.
"Try to tell me what you know about
the events on Yanol" Darak asked the man.
It was a difficult task that Darak was attempting. He wanted to stimulate the Yanolian into
speaking despite his terrible injuries yet he realised that his words were
meaningless to him. He hoped that the
intonation of his words would get some reaction.
The Yanolian responded, but his responses,
at this time, were meaningless to Darak.
Darak beckoned to the medic he could see
was the senior one. "Ask the physician in charge to come here as I would
like to ask him something very important."
The medic responded "Certainly,
sir" and went to his communications
console.
Within a few minutes a tall man
entered. He was wearing a smart, close‑fitting,
pale blue uniform and had an air of quiet authority. He approached Darak and greeted him with a
nod of the head, appreciating his hierarchical status.
"Ah, thank you for coming, uh......
?" Darak paused, questioningly.
"Solchov" the physician
volunteered in response to Darak's implied question. "I am Deputy Head Physician of the
Atraka Medicsarena."
"I am pleased to make your
acquaintance" Darak said courteously.
"Tell me, what are the chances of restoration of the Yanolian?” He ccontinued without waitng for an answer
from Solchov. “I ask because it is very
important that I speak to him about Yanol."
"As you know" Solchov responded,
"we can easily restore most human life form to full metabolic function,
even though there is sometimes a price to pay.
Here, however, we have a particular problem. There is a 92% organic tissue malfunction or
below standard function and, although we can replicate the 37 types of tissue
that he has and which are damaged, the body would not survive that amount of
replacement for long at normal metabolic levels. We could comatise him afterwards, I
suppose" Salchov went on as though thinking aloud.
"What are his chances of survival
otherwise?"
"Not great, about 10% I would
think."
"Is it possible to restore his normal
abilities of clear elucidation on recent events, say, for a short period of time,
eh, a few hours, maybe?"
"Yes. I can sanction that" Solchov said after a short pause. "It would not jeopardise the patient one
way or the other." Turning to the senior medic he asked "Have you all
the tissue genetic coding on computer for the Yanolian?"
"Yes, sir, we have" the medic
replied. "Routine procedures have
given us all the information we require."
"Right" Solchov responded. "Arrange to bring the patient up to
metabolic level 4 with full elucidating capability and memory recall. Check everything out at that stage."
"Right, sir."
"What is the time scale?"
Solchov asked.
The senior medic paused before responding.
"Alien genetics but, should be no problem for the bio....... About two
hours, sir.”
"Good. Proceed."
The communicator on Zuc's wrist glowed
pulsatingly. Zuc walked to the wall and held his communicator in contact with
the yellow disc. He listened in silence
to what appeared to be interesting information.
He did not verbally respond but communicated by thought transference via
the hardware. After several minutes he
turned and spoke to Darak. "The environmental supervisor for Yanol was
Commander Chrimills. He has been
located on Scanner 1 and is due to return to Paltea soon."
"Make a priority request to him to
meet us here as soon as is practical." Darak instructed.
Zuc nodded, turned and concentrated on his
communicator. He relayed Darak's request
to his correspondent.
11
A
pale blue transportation vehicle glided into the cosmodrome at Atraka. Its passengers, who began to embark almost as
soon as it came to rest on its allocated spot, were in some ways a strange
assortment of people with a variety of planetary origins, as could be seen
easily by the variety of dress and less easily but unavoidably by their
physical appearances. Some were soberly
dressed in uniform‑like attire, others were adorned colourfully and in
rather unusual, and to some bizarre, taste.
They moved away from the spaceship and walked in a line towards the
terminal. The fourth person in the line
was, however, smartly attired in a close‑fitting blue uniform decorated
with modest but distinctive insignia that gave him a prestigious air of an
official of senior rank. It was
Commander Chrimills.
Following the fellow travellers ahead of
him, he entered the access chamber of the administrative building and strode
through the connecting vestibule into the internal transportation system. Within a few minutes he was outside the door
of room RS 191 of the Atraka Medicsarena.
He spoke towards the entrance disc which was situated at the side of the
door. "Commander Chrimills to meet
Darak of Galan."
The doors slid open in absolute silence and
Chrimills stepped inside. He could see
the medics and a group of people of, he assumed from their outfits, a variety
of higher ranks standing around the bed looking intently at a patient who lay
in it. They turned towards him and one,
whom Chrimills could see was of Sidereal Quantum status, held out his hand.
"Greetings Commander. I am Darak.
Thank you for coming so promptly."
"Both my duty and pleasure,
Darak" Chrimills replied. "How
can I be of help here?"
"I hope that you were informed that
we have here at the Medicsarena an injured Yanolian" Darak courteously
enquired, raising his eyebrows to turn the statement into a question.
"Yes, I have heard the
news" Chrimills replied in a tone
indicating his surprise at learning of it.
"What exactly would you like me to do."
"It is possible for us to debrief the
Yanolian on the pre-catastrophic events, but the debriefing window is
small. We would like you to act as a
direct interpreter. Would you be willing
to do this for me?"
"I will be happy to do it. I
appreciate the opportunity."
Chrimills responded favourably and walked over to the patient lying
there whom he now knew was, obviously, the Yanolian. He realised that the only way to debrief
anyone under such circumstances was by direct voice-to-voice contact. Only a verbal interchange would work. He stood alongside the bed and spoke to the
man in a strange tongue, trying to control his natural revulsion to the
physical sight. He knew that the man would
be suffering very little pain at this stage due to the drugs he would have been
given.
The Yanolian, obviously weak, but
apparently being fully aware of his surroundings, responded. Chrimills spoke
again and once more the Yanolian responded. Chrimills appeared to be putting
questions to the man and the questioning and answering went on while Darak, his
support team Alaf and Zuc and the senior medic watched in absolute
silence. One could see that Chrimills
was probing expertly and deeply with his questioning. His facial expression had become more serious
as the questioning went on and one could see that what he was hearing was
hurting him deeply. His brows knitted
and twisted as if he were feeling the pain and suffering of those who had been
on Yanol when the tragedy had taken place.
Some 30 minutes of the debriefing session
passed when the Yanolian began to show distress. The senior medic came to the side of the
capsule and looked at the Yanolian studiously.
He looked across at the instrumentation critically, indicating with a
hand gesture at the same time to Chrimills that the questioning should pause
for a moment. He made his assessments
of the instrument readings and turned to speak to Chrimills and Darak.
"I'm afraid the debriefing will have
to stop now. The patient is physically
and mentally exhausted. If we went on he
may cross the recovery threshold."
"Thank you, I understand" Darak
replied. He turned to Chrimills. "What did you learn from the Yanolian,
Commander?"
Chrimills himself was not exactly shaken
but he had become quite disturbed by what he had heard.
"Quite a lot, Darak."
"Can you tell me... eh… in summary,
perhaps, what he said? I am, as you may know, anxious to see if he has shed any
new light on the events that took place on Yanol."
Chrimills did not respond immediately but
paused as if to consider the tenor of his reply.
"The Yanolian's name is Agroubi and
he is, in fact, from the very area where the origins of the disaster lie, an
area known as Wanolana. Now Wanolana is
populated by a race of people whose religion is a branch of Kol. The leader of Wanolana is Meskadoura, who
gained an international reputation of being an unstable leader, but he is
recognised as a heroic leader by his own people. He had no problems leading them.
He also gained international
acknowledgement as the champion of almost every underdog group throughout the
planet but was never happy with the level of recognition, of prestige, that the
international statesmen gave to him."
"Meskadoura?" Darak
reflected. "Could this be the mad
'M' that Calderosh mentioned?"
Chrimills chose not to be diverted by
answering Darak's direct question right away but to continue along his original
line of approach to presenting the facts as he had discovered them.
"Wanolana is a nation of considerable
wealth from natural resources and over a period of more than 100 years it has
bought its way into being a sophisticated and technologically well-developed
state."
"Could it have been Meskadoura who
was responsible for infiltrating the super powers' mutual defence system?"
Darak’s question was direct and emphatic.
There was no way that Chrimills could
avoid answering Darak's pointed question.
"Yes, it was."
"But why?" Darak came back
instantly. "Has Agroubi shed any
light upon why?"
Chrimills paused. For Darak a long and agonizing pause. The air of a drama was developing. Chrimills
broke the silence in a low voice and deliberate manner, almost with reluctance.
"He had virolis."
Darak looked at Chrimills without saying a
word. He looked at Alaf, then at Zuc and
at the medics as if in the hope that one of them would volunteer an explanation
of what virolis is. No one
volunteered. He turned to
Chrimills.
"He had virolis!" he said, repeating
the answer that Chrimills had given him as though it were a statement.
Chrimills nodded.
"No doubt, you can enlighten me as to
what virolis is" Darak's voice was
slightly agitated but still laced with courtesy.
"I think I will have to call on
Article 235 of the Galactic Code at this point, Darak" Chrimills replied.
Darak opened his mouth but said
nothing. He held himself in check. All those present knew they would learn no
more at this point from Commander Chrimills.
He was making use of Article 235 of the Galactic Code to protect
himself. Everyone had the right to use
the Article in this way whenever there was a possibility, however remote, of
any self‑incriminating or embarrassing material being revealed in any
circumstances. It gave everyone the
right to end any cross‑examination outside of legal enquiries.
"I respect your call,
Commander." Darak reluctantly responded.
"I think it is in everyone's best
interest at this stage, Darak." Chrimills commented politely.
Darak thanked Chrimills for all he had
done and indicated to the medics that his interview with and debriefing of
Agroubi, the Yanolian, had finished. He
also indicated to Alaf, with a motion of his hand, to disconnect and collect
the recording device. He was now
convinced more than ever that there was a lot to discover about the events on
Yanol. Chrimills's reaction had implied
that what was yet to be revealed by the interview could have, at the very
least, some kind of incriminating effect on Chrimills himself and, at the
worst....? Darak wondered.
Darak now knew that the course of action
open to him was to put before the Council a request for all data relevant to
Yanol, however classified, to be released and that the Sector Leader of the sector
in which Yanol lay to be available for questioning - if necessary.
"What now, Darak?" Alaf posed
the question as he and Zuc walked out of the Medicsarena alongside Darak.
"We need the Yanolian's testimony to
be translated and analyzed" Darak replied as though he were thinking
aloud. "We need to dig out of
Hadron anything even remotely connected with the Yanolian sector to see if we
can, by analyzing and integrating the data, see some solid and substantive
reason why this catastrophe ever took place."
Together Alaf and Zuc replied, as if of
the same mind and almost the same voice.
"We'll get to it right away,
sir."
12
On
a more peaceful and younger Terrea Jal placed his hand gently on the forehead
of the child held in its mother's arms.
The very distressed young boy calmed down, then his high temperature
dropped, his fever visibly receded before the eyes of the onlookers and in less
than a minute the baby looked as normal in appearance as any other healthy
child.
"Take home your son" Jal said to
the baby's mother in a gentle and kindly way.
"Take care of him in the same way as you would any of your children
or your neighbours' children. He is well
now and his fever will not return."
"Oh thank you Master, thank you"
the mother went on saying as she showed her ecstatic gratitude, walking
backwards away from Jal, stooping in a bow, straightening herself and stooping
alternately. She was overcome with joy,
disbelief and gratitude, of that there could be no doubt.
Jal raised his hand to the mother in a
gesture of acknowledgement. He was
smiling at the mother to reassure her.
"It's God's gift to your child."
By now, he was beginning to feel the
tiredness of the day spent healing many, of sickness of the body and mind. He signalled almost inconspicuously to his
group of helpers by a movement of his eyebrows he knew they recognised. His party understood. They indicated to the crowd in as kindly a
manner as they could that there would be no more healing of the sick
today. The helpers knew that Jal would
return tomorrow for another day‑long session of healing the sick and the
lame and the mentally disturbed and they indicated as much to the gathering of
people that still remained.
The crowd seemed to be in no hurry to go
but wanted to remain in the presence of Jal, uplifted by the sight of him. His presence gave hope to each one of those
who wanted his administering. Slowly they
dispersed, hoping that tomorrow they would have their turn.
Eventually, most of the crowd were gone.
Jal turned away from the almost empty
space where the people had been and walked from the top of the wide steps on
which he had been standing, down into the cooler air in the shade of the large
and imposing building that had been behind him during his administering. His party followed him and as he sat down
somewhat heavily on a wooden chair, he was handed a drink of cool, clear water,
laced with a little wine. He drank and
relaxed.
Today's sermon and healing session had
made the day a long one and one that had taken quite a lot out of him. The different ailments had needed varying
amounts of internally generated energy concentration to cure and today, many
sick people had come or were brought to him.
This was the second day and both days had
been very rewarding for Jal. Many of
those who had been brought to him had been suffering from debilitating ills but
he had been able to restore them to normal levels of health by touching them
with his miracle‑working hands and producing the healing power from
within. The people had flocked to him
today as they had done in so many other villages whenever and wherever it was
known that he, Jal of Tone, was to visit some place. Many came from afar and travelled great distances
to reach the region through which it was known that Jal would travel.
The miraculous powers of the man were
talked about by witnesses who had seen him perform his work among the
people. These nomadic witnesses told
their tales to others they met on their travels. Sometimes they related their stories to
believers and sometimes to sceptics, but the words spoken about Jal became part
of the folklore in many regions and a traveller's tale that was listened to in
awe in many parts of this land - and beyond.
The impact of Jal had carried to many other lands.
Some of those who came to Jal's healing
and teaching sessions came as spectators to see for themselves the miracles
being performed. To see lame people made
to walk freely again. To see a skin
disease of terrible proportions being cleansed and the skin improving in
appearance before everyone's eyes.
Whatever the illness, the affliction, or
problem, whether it was of the body or mind, it was healed by the hand of
Jal. Some witnessed blind people having
their sight at least improved and sometimes restored by him as he lay his
fingers on the closed eyelids of the sightless eyes and exercised his
miraculous, silent, invisible power. The
disbelief of the formerly blind person to the restoration of his or her sight
was in itself a sight to behold for the sheer joy it generated in
everyone. Some were able to witness the
restoration of life to a long‑dead limb, the return to sanity of a
temporarily deranged person, the cleansing of the minds of mentally troubled
persons and in some cases the chasing out of the imaginary problems from the
minds of the worried.
Jal finished his drink and the beaker was
taken away from his relaxed hand. He
glanced up and saw Laro. 'Ah. Laro, kind
and gentle Laro' he thought, 'in spite of his large size.' Jal tried to utter `thank you' and something
did materialise itself in words, but his tiredness overcame him as he sank into
a well‑earned deep and trance‑like sleep.
As he slept, in his mind he could see
clearly the tall, spiky hills that formed the backdrop to the town of
"Hey..... that's a lot of noise, old
fellow." Jal stroked the donkey's blaze.
The donkey wagged its tail rapidly as Jal
stroked him and talked to him and, if anyone could have seen the scene, they
would have seen a donkey that was happy to be with Jal.
After some long minutes of gazing over the
town ahead of him, Jal made his way down into it, wending his way along a well‑trodden
track. Ahead of him here and there he
could see one or two people together but a group of people still some way off
caught his attention. Amidst the calm,
they seemed to be fussing around something or other that was hidden from view
by the group itself. The group was
growing little by little as Jal got nearer until it was, when he arrived, a
small crowd.
He approached to within ten paces and
stopped to hitch his donkey to a rail.
He turned and walked over to see what it was that by this time was
attracting such a jostling crowd of people.
Through the legs of the throng he could see that someone was lying on
the floor. Someone who obviously needed
help. Jal strode into the group of
people, pushing some aside with his hands and muttering `excuse me, excuse me'
until he came to the centre of the commotion and could see what had caused the
crowd to gather.
An elderly man lay on the floor and
kneeling alongside him was a big man obviously trying to do something for
him. Obvious too was the fact that the
big man was distraught at not being able to help the man who must have only
just collapsed.
"What has happened?" Jal calmly
asked, his voice firm and without emotion.
The big kneeling man looked up.
"He just collapsed" he
said, his voice quivering. "Just collapsed."
Jal knelt on the other side of the elderly
man lying on the floor and placed his hand over the man's heart. The big kneeling man on the other side of the
unconscious figure looked at Jal questioningly.
Jal looked the big man in the eye but said nothing although he knew that
the man lying there was in a pretty bad state.
His heart beat with a faint, trembling beat, hardly discernable. It was hot and the gathering of people did
nothing to help the supply of air around the seriously ill man.
"Can you all stand away please"
Jal commanded in a clear, but firm, manner.
"Move back, please, make room for some air."
The crowd pushed each other back and the
air became a little less oppressive,
"He's my father" the big man
uttered, still kneeling, "he's my father." His voice was pleading
with Jal for help.
"He will be all right' Jal re‑assured
him quietly, "he will be all right."
The big man had tears in his eyes. He looked away from Jal to his supine and
almost lifeless father. Jal placed his
hands on the elderly man. One hand on
the man's chest and one on his shoulder.
Jal's face relaxed as he concentrated on his task. He looked inwards to his internal source of
biogenerated energy as it began to lase one way and then the other inside
him. He could feel it build up as it
bounced from one side of his innermost depths to the other. This building up of his energy force gave him
moments of anxiety still, as he was yet without a great deal of experience in its
application. It thrilled him but he also
knew how important it was at this stage to concentrate.
Internally, he throbbed with his
Tal-sourced power. He concentrated. He could feel the power surging up and up. Up into his upper body, along his arms the
power raced, out through his hands and into the body of the elderly man who was
lying there before him. The man's body
convulsively jerked.
Outwardly Jal was calm with no sign at all
of what was happening inside him, but a powerful, invigorating and medicinal
force leapt from his left arm, through the body of the big man's father and out
into his right hand. To the silent
onlookers it appeared that Jal had produced some kind of eruptive reaction in
the man lying on the ground. The crowd
held its eerie silence, but when the supine man's eyelids fluttered, opened,
closed and then opened again there were audible gasps and signs of
astonishment, amazement and relief.
"Father, father" the big man
gasped. "Are you all right?"
The big man's father attempted to raise
his head but the effort was too much. He
managed a faint smile and squeezed out some words.
"Thank you, Laro, I'm fine, I'm
fine. What's happened?"
"You fainted" Jal volunteered an
answer. "It must have been the
heat."
Some of the onlookers, many of whom knew
Laro's father, helped him to his feet and assisted him to a nearby stone seat
on which he managed to position himself in a sitting position.
Laro was so obviously relieved but still a
little stunned. On seeing his father now
recovering and almost back to his usual self, he turned to Jal and, held out an
outstretched hand.
"My name is Laro."
"Jal" came the response.
He took Laro's outstretched hand in his
and gave it a warm clasp and shake.
"I don't know how you did it Jal"
Laro confessed, "but you appear to have made life return to my father when
it had almost deserted him........" He suddenly froze in the realization
of something significant and gasped "Jal.
You are......" he stammered, "are you the one who has been performing
the miracles in the North?" He held
his hands to his face. "Then you
may really have given new life to my father.
You really could have brought him..... "
"No" Jal replied. "He was close to death, but... well ...
he is recovered completely now.. And" he added, "to answer your
question, yes, I have been travelling throughout the North, healing the sick
where and when I could. It is my destiny
to do so and I know, only too well, that I cannot go around doing such work
without my name becoming well‑known."
Laro could hardly believe that he and his
father had been so fortunate as to have been found by the man reputed to work
miracles at such a critical time in his father's life. Had it not been for Jal's timely appearance
his father would most certainly have died.
‘How in the world’ he thought, ‘can I
repay him?’ He could think of no way and found himself blurting out. "How
can I repay you, Jal, for what you did for my father?"
"There is no call for repayment but,
if you can point me in the direction of somewhere where I can rest for a few
days, I, in turn, will be grateful to you."
"My father's house has room for
you" Laro said almost before Jal had finished speaking. "You can stay with us." He hesitated, realising he may have been a
bit rash, " uh, that is, if you want to."
"Only if I can pay for your
hospitality."
"We can cross that bridge when we
arrive there." Laro was relieved that his impetuous offer had been seen
for the goodhearted manner in which it had been made.
Jal accepted Laro's offer and went with
him and his father to their house. He
had the opportunity on the way to tell them that he would be staying in Cresso
for three or four days and would be holding several healing and preaching sessions
during his stay.
"In that case" Laro said,
"you will be wanting the town to know that you are here and where you will
be found."
"That is true. I would like to see as many sick and lame
people as possible as well as those in need of spiritual uplifting. I would
like to heal and administer to all, the young, the old and the physically and
mentally sick. All, just all."
"Then I can help you" Laro
volunteered. "I can spread the word
around Cresso. And, if you like, I can
even help you with your sessions of healing the people, a general help....
"
Jal looked at Laro. This big man with obvious strength in his
body also had a great deal of compassion in his heart. Jal thought that such a man would make a very
useful travelling companion. But for
now, perhaps, some help in Cresso would be appreciated. He nodded to Laro.
"Thanks, thanks" he repeated as
he showed his delight with a broad smile.
Jal thought that it was he who should be
dong the thanking.
They reached the house and went
inside. Externally it was larger than
most of those around it. It had a white
front and was built on two levels. The
main door had steps leading up to it.
Inside the house it was cool and, as the coolness enveloped Jal, he
somehow felt a sense of relief. Laro's father, whose name Jal had been told was
Pelte, indicated to Jal to take a seat and went to get a drink for him. He was soon back with a cup of cool wine and
water of which Jal drank half without stopping.
"I am grateful for your
hospitality" he remarked to Pelte as he put down the cup.
"It is nothing compared to that which
you have done for me, my friend"
Pelte replied, adding "and we must take care of your donkey
also."
"I'm sure he will be as grateful as I
am, although he may not be able to say so."
Pelte laughed.
"Yes, I'm sure you are right but I
hope you will find your surroundings more convivial than those of your four‑legged
friend."
The following morning, after having had a
good night's sleep, Jal sat at the breakfast table where he enjoyed some
cereals and goat's milk and bread. He
ate and sat back, a little curious as to where Laro and Pelte might be. He was quite relaxed about everything, saving
his inner energy for the days ahead. His
thoughts wandered over many things, thinking of how well things had gone since
those times when Saron had told him he was ready to start on his journey
throughout his own land and eventually other lands, to convince the peoples of
many races that he was a man with inexplicable powers and an understandable
message. Powers not of this world. He would eventually come to be recognised as
someone sent by God, someone who had beliefs worthy of being followed, someone
who would provide a focal point for people's faith......
"Good morning, Jal" he heard and
turned around. It was Laro, coming in
from outside and looking bright and cheerful.
"I hope you had a good night's sleep."
"Slept like a dog" Jal replied,
"or even better. You look cheerful
this morning."
"Ah, yes, Jal. It is not often that one has someone as
famous as you as a guest. What's more, I
have already been telling everybody who you are."
Jal let the `well‑known' remark go
without comment.
"Working already, and quite hard
too."
"Oh, I've been quite busy, but it
hardly seemed like work."
"How's your father?"
"He is very well, thank you Jal. This morning he left early to visit his
brother. That's where he intended to go
yesterday. He thought it best to travel
in the coolest part of the day.
But" Laro went on cheerfully, "he is as well as I have ever
seen him."
"Good for him."
"I must tell you" Laro said
enthusiastically, "the townspeople, well those I spoke to anyway, want you
to use the debating hall for your wonderful work. Everyone I told is quite excited and is
spreading the word. They are excited
because they already know of the work that you have done. By mid‑morning there will be lots of
people there to whom you can administer."
"I did not anticipate starting so
quickly" Jal responded, "but, seeing you have done such a fine job so
enthusiastically I will happily take up the offer of the debating hall."
Jal thought that the debating hall would
be an excellent arena and had no idea that he would have been fortunate enough
to have the use of such a suitable venue.
Debating halls were frequently found in a town's central square and were
more of a very large, open roofed, structure supported only by posts at regular
intervals, but without supporting walls.
An ideal place to address many people gathered together without their
being subjected to the heat of the sun.
Laro had told Jal that he had to leave
soon to do some work, but before leaving he would give Jal directions, simple
as they were since Cresso was not a big town, on how to get to the debating
hall. This he did and left, telling Jal
that he would meet him at the debating hall itself, probably before Jal would
be ready to start.
Jal took stock of things and knew that he
would have to set aside time to mentally prepare himself for the morning's
task. He went to the room he had been
given by Pelte, out of unbridled gratitude, knowing he would not be disturbed
there and would be left to enjoy his own privacy. He looked around the room and decided on a
suitable spot where he sat on the floor with his legs crossed, feet tucked
under his thighs. He put his hands
together with his fingers interlinked and rested his elbows on his knees. Jal looked straight ahead, his eyes remaining
open but they took on a glazed appearance as of a man in a trance. And into a trance he gradually went.
In his mind a totally different world was
materialising as it reached out into the cosmos. Distant stars travelled at high straight line
speeds to intermingle with coloured rays of dazzling lights criss‑crossing
in explosive starbursts of colossal energy.
The frequency of the starbursts increased their pulsating rapidity. Then a flash of total darkness, superseded by
the rapidly flashing starbursts which were now rotating their spinning bursts
of energy like catherine wheels.
Strangers appeared in all the pulsating
colourbursts, each varying in appearance, some bearded, some clean‑shaven,
some with faces that were of a high intelligence order but were not
recognisable as normal human faces. It
went on and on, the appearance of each creating the impression of great wisdom
and knowledge being generated with each appearing to pass on to Jal some
radiating energy form. Another flash of
black void in which nothing existed, then the pulsating colourbursts returned
and through a silver coloured spinning collection of twinkling lights Saron
appeared. The apparition of Saron. The starbursting background and pulsating
light diminished as it receded and the spatial activity became tranquil as
though the presence of Saron had influenced it.
Jal's inner self calmed as Saron smiled at him and the silent image
telescended confidence down to Jal.
Jal came out of his trance‑like
state and found himself slumped forward in his cross‑legged
position. He sat up, satisfied that he
had re-charged himself thoroughly for the days and weeks ahead. Sitting back for some moments he rested
before standing up and taking deliberately some deep breaths. He went over to the table on which was a
basin and a water jug and refreshed himself with its contents by splashing his
face an neck.
He felt himself charged up and bursting
with internal energy, a force wanting to come out but one which he knew he
would have to control. He would have to
control the discharge of his energy in ways that would benefit his fellow man,
woman and child alike and, at the same time, tell the people who would see his
work, and ultimately people further afield, of the beliefs on which his
miraculous powers were founded. He had
been trained to accept becoming the focal point of people's beliefs, so that
they would more easily believe that the powers given to him, the powers he was
able to dispense for so much good, could only have come from some superior
source, from some heavenly power and were specifically dedicated to the good of
mankind. This would give the people a
dedicated belief to follow. He would be
able to teach his fellow men how to look upon this gift as life itself. The people would listen to his teachings
which would be established in their minds by seeing the miraculous curing of
the physically and mentally sick that he would go on bringing about. The role that Jal had to play was a
complicated one, one that only a man as complete as Jal himself could play
successfully.
Jal approached the debating hall
following meticulously the directions which Laro had given him. He could see a fairly large crowd had
gathered already and there was an air of excitement prevailing. It was obvious to anyone that many people in
the crowd were ill, or lame, some having an arm or a leg bandaged while some
sat with their heads in their hands. An
occasional moan came from one part or the other as a great deal of shuffling
went on as people moved around to find themselves a suitable spot.
It was a sight that would have dismayed
many people but it heartened Jal as he approached to think that he would be
able to bring relief from suffering to so many.
Sitting on the dais ahead of the crowd, he could see a group of people
who could have been no one other than the town's dignitaries. These were the town's elders facing the crowd
who waited patiently but with an ever mounting anticipation,
Jal skirted around the crowd so that he
would approach the dais from the side.
As he reached it one of the elders saw him, rose to his feet and called
him over by waving his arm.
"I recognised you from your
administering to Pelte yesterday" he said as Jal got close. "I was there and saw all you did. Come, we are waiting with, as you can see
from the crowd, barely controllable anticipation."
As he had been greeting Jal and welcoming
him, the crowd, seeing the two, knew that the young newcomer must be Jal and
the noise faded into silence. The sick,
the ill, and those who were having to tend them looked towards Jal with common
feelings of hope but with a variety of facial expressions. They wondered if all they had heard was
true.
And what if it were not? Those who cared for the others wondered. How would those who were ill take it if it
were not true? Those who were ill asked themselves if it were true, would Jal
of Tone, the man reputed to be capable of performing miracles, be able to
perform one for them?
Their anxiety had caused them to become silent
and watch Jal position himself in front of the people gathered on the
dais. He faced them and looking around,
slowly addressed them.
"Have patience, my people. God wants me to heal every one of you and I
will carry out God's wishes. He wants me
to ask you also, to cast out thoughts of dishonesty, of lying and cheating and
fill your minds and hearts with truth, with kindness, with fair play, and with
patience towards your fellow men. This
is God's belief and he is showing it to you through me." The crowd were
transfixed and Jal went on.
"Without such feelings in your
hearts, I cannot cure you of your ills and ailments. With them, your lives will be
transformed."
He then stepped down from the dais to be
on the same level as the gathered crowd.
He did not want anyone who was sick or ill to stumble or fall while
negotiating a step, which they would have had to do if he had remained on the
dais. Immediately in front of him stood
a woman with her right arm wrapped in a cloth.
She lifted this arm with her other one and, with a little struggle,
removed the cloth to reveal a withered limb.
She held the withered arm towards Jal.
"Do what you can, Master" she
begged.
Jal took hold of the hand of the withered
arm and put his other hand on the woman's right shoulder and held the position
for a short while. He concentrated on
his task for some minutes before he spoke.
"It will be well again."
The woman looked at her arm and moved it. The movement was small at first but increased
as she realised that she was actually able to move it. She looked at her arm in
disbelief and up at Jal in awe. She
realised that what she was feeling in her right arm was the pulsating beat of
life which had returned to it once more.
She cried out.