Darkness & Light
by
NICHOLAS NICOLA
Copyright © 2008 Nicholas Nicola
Black Fez Press Smashwords Edition
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Front cover by the author and includes an etching by him titled ‘Looking into the Future’. B&W. 8”X8” aquatint. zinc plate.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
end of the world
PART ONE
Prologue-The Fall
Chapter One –Capture of a Messiah
Chapter Two – A Question of Balance
Chapter Three – The Front Gate
Chapter Four – Tower of Babel
Chapter Five – the Acension
PART TWO
Chapter Six – Stephen
Chapter Seven – The March
Chapter Eight –The Encirclement
Chapter Nine – Breakthrough and Karma
PART THREE
Chapter Ten – The Old Man
Chapter Eleven – The Dream
Chapter Twelve – Armistice Day
Glossary
Appendix 1
Darkness & Light
by
Nicholas Nicola
the end of the world the world
the world was gone and everyone laughed
they killed their mothers
while death was dying in the dark
scream...
so much for the answer
it was never set free
and parading down the backyard of their brains
was the godot of their dreams no sense was there in thee?
irrational man smiles blindly in the sand
engulfs him
and parading down the backyards of their brains
was the godot of their dreams
the result was life in another existence
and someone asked again:
was this the ‘creation’ of their impersonality?
the sun rose and nothing left for breakfast
PART ONE
Prologue
The Fall
“I’ve been falling for a long time,” or so he thought, for it was hard to understand what long meant. Time had also become an irrelevant concept, “who am I in the cold blindness?”
However, as long as he fell he knew he was alive. What is alive in the quiet void of the nightmare? Passing the distance between points A and B, he looked to where he thought his feet should be and saw a dot. The word shape travelled through his mind. He saw the dot come close, it was a circle, though irregular, and there were streaks of dim light. He cried as the colour white overcame him. What did the word white mean? Was the piercing sound he could hear his scream? Was this all a dream? He was in a whirl. He was falling. He recoiled with pain. Struggling in the cold liquid, his pulse wildly erratic, lungs gasping, he knew he was dying.
“The surface...the surface! Swim for the top!”
The pressures daunted him. He then felt cold air freezing the hair on his outstretched arms. He breathed in the fresh air.
He could make out a shoreline in the distance. Slowly, ever so slowly he swam. His eyes grew tired.
*
His eyelids parted. The still water lapped against his body. He lay on the red gravel shore of a vast lake, listening to his own breath. He wondered now and then about his journey through the darkness.
Chapter One
Capture of a Messiah
Gradually, he stood up. He looked at the twilight shadows on the ceiling of this huge chamber and saw a black hole. From it were falling corpses of both men and horses. These, along with war-wagons were hitting the lake. His muscles tensed as the water sprayed. He bitterly remembered the encirclement of his forces and their withdrawal to the pits. He could clearly see his men driven back to the very edges by a foe that was superior both in numbers and in the quality of his swordsmanship. What fears had driven him to jump?
However, his downfall had not led to his death.
He looked at the pebble beach and saw it gave way to gradual slopes which suddenly rose to hills. These curves stretched as one ridge in a combined desperate bid to touch the ceiling. He wanted to explore this wilderness but he was exhausted. He searched for a resting spot. He didn’t think it was necessary, but he was also looking for a place to hide. Walking several hundred yards along the edge of the water, he came across a small cove which had a number of caves niched into the cliffs, which ran parallel with the shore. He found one large enough for his weary frame. Despite the painful experience of his descent, the familiar darkness made him feel secure. He even managed a bitter laugh, thinking how protected he would be in case it rained. Lying down, he drifted into sleep, but to his surprise he heard the murmur of voices. His tired eyes could make out a few hazy shapes which passed by the entrance of the cave. They were dragging a bloated corpse. He knew he should follow them, but he had had enough and, as the tinkering of their swords faded away, he slept.
*
Outside his cocoon many generations lived, died and strived for a better world. When the centuries had gone by, it was decided he should wake up from the soothing comforts of his subconscious. When he did there was no yellow sun to excite him with the equal pleasures of conscious life, but he was instead rudely struck by the claustrophobic effect of black cavern walls that rose up to greet the eye with the cold, dull grey tonal values of a rock sky.
Leaving the rock womb, he vaguely remembered men. He frowned. Walking along the pebble beach, he came across a stream. This scene seemed different but he did not know why.
He half expected to wake up and find himself lying in the long grass of a deserted field, the chill of this strange poetic world to have evaporated with the warm morning sun.
He noticed several shadows moving in the stream.
With one swoop of his large hand, he grabbed an eel. He caught more and then sat back on the beach to feast on this slimy delicacy. Contented, he decided to search for the inhabitants of this cavern. Firstly, he would have another nap.
*
The two fishermen saw the still figure on the ground. They approached the sleeping stranger and marvelled. These fishermen ignored their duties and hurried away.
*
He stretched out his arms and legs like a well pleased cat. With a full stomach, his strength and morale had been replenished. However, he sensed he was being watched. A tingle ran up his spine and his muscles tightened. He was not sure whether to lie still or satisfy his curiosity. Sitting up, he looked around to see eight figures staring at him from the other side of the stream. He could think of nothing else to do but stare back. He startled his observers when he stood up, and wondered if they held him in awe. The tallest among them was five and a half feet high. He was easily six feet and he assumed they were impressed by his stature. Unlike himself, they did not wrap tunics around their waists but wore clothes which resembled their bodies.
He could see from their uncovered heads that they were a light-skinned race but not sickly looking as one would expect of people who had no daylight. Their faces were Caucasian except for the eyes, which had an Asiatic quality. Each person grew their jet black hair to a different length. There were two men whose hair was reddish-brown.
Peering at his bruised chest, he realised how different he looked. He touched his torso and was aware that these men saw him as someone special, for it was obvious to him that he was not from this world. He considered their cautious behaviour towards him and began to scheme as to how he could take advantage of their superstition.
He would wait for his observers to approach him. He sat back down. His onlookers mimicked him, crossing their legs when he did. So there they all sat, meditating.
*
Approaching from the right was a single file of twelve men. They came towards the fishermen who stood up when he did. The twelve reached the first group of eight, who had dropped to their knees and bowed their heads to one of the twelve.
What followed was a brief discussion between this superior and a fisherman. Before he could guess what was happening, there was a shouting of commands and ten of the newcomers started wading through the stream towards him.
*
After crossing the stream, the men simply stood around him at a distance. They did not want him to go anywhere and he was relieved they wanted to keep him alive. Peculiarly, he sensed they respected him. However, he had to be careful he was not deceiving himself.
The important man - who was still on the other side of the stream - ordered his men to establish a tight formation around the prisoner and march him back. The important man thanked the fishermen.
*
The escort followed the path of the stream. They came to a track which took them to the hills he had wanted to explore.
*
They reached the top of a craggy hill and met up with another track which took them down the other side. He could see from this high point a bumpy desert of more hills and climbs. He was dumbfounded at how these men could survive in this emptiness. When they had finished their descent, the members of this patrol were exhausted.
*
He was sitting away from the others and watching a man who held a cylinder on the ground with a small knob and a nozzle at the top. The soldier was turning the knob until the cylinder hissed. With a flint he lit it! How could this man make metal burn? The uniform flames coming out of the nozzle were boiling a can of water held with a wooden stick by another soldier. No one was interested in what these two men were doing. He thought it was best to appear equally unimpressed. Later, a soldier came over, bowed down and gave him a cup of tea.
*
The patrol reached a dried out riverbed. They went along this wide path for many hours. Thinking of the previous hills, he was fascinated by the flat terrain. He imagined lizards and snakes amid the stones. No life was spotted except for the distant sight of other men marching to other desolate places. The pace of the escort quickened when the first scout saw their final destination.
*
The prison was full of stench, madmen and cockroaches. He found it curious that these creatures could live in comfort so far underneath the world. He was sleeping on a stone floor with two blankets, and was being served water and a vegetable broth. He did not understand why he was living in these squalid conditions. When he saw the fortress, he thought he would be treated as an honoured guest. Passing through the open gate there was no parade but three men in a deserted square. They had taken him to his present cell.
It was a long while before anyone bothered to make real contact with him. Then one day (if the notion of a solar day was possible), the prisoner was taken across the square.
*
The room was large compared to his cell. It had a table, a gas lamp, a few chairs. Two elderly men instructed him to sit down. The prisoner looked at their wise eyes and he felt these two men could teach him. One of these scholars spoke. The prisoner discerned that he was being asked a question. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Pointing to their mouths, the elderly men wanted him to speak. The prisoner asked who they were, and why was he here? The eyes of his audience glinted to express puzzled minds. After a short period of muted silence, the prisoner was led to the door where a guard was waiting to take him back to his cell.
*
Later, the prisoner was granted a second interview. These two men were to teach him their speech. One scholar would point to his companion’s arm and say what it was, and the prisoner would repeat the word. Many sessions went by in which he built up a vocabulary. His tutors were impressed by his linguistic skills. The prisoner learnt in other visits that he was being held by a tribe known as the Telshmen in the province of Ashur. The present discussion focused on the natural world, which led the two scholars to mention that at one time their tribe did not understand how plants grew, why the ground sometimes shook, what fire was and how women became pregnant.
“Our primitive ancestors did not know the connection between sex and birth; so, it was thought, an invisible being induced women into a deep trance when they slept to begin this miracle of life.” said Scholar A.
“So your tribe has dispensed with this supernatural trivia?” asked the prisoner.
“The educated have been enlightened, but the priests still have enormous influence over the ordinary person.” said Scholar Aa.
“Power over the centuries has shifted from the priests to the generals. Yet the ordinary man fights Ashur’s wars and labours in Ashur’s factories, so when he dies his spirit may go to the Infinite.”
The prisoner wondered how these two would respond if they saw the birds of the air or galaxies of the night.
“The Supreme Being will present his servants with a brilliant light. Their souls, minds and bodies will be as new and they will know no tears or fears...this blind hope is not undermined because the position of the priests and the authority of the military would be threatened,” said Scholar Aa.
A servant walked into the room. He bowed to the prisoner and left a pot of tea and three glasses on the table.
Scholar A poured all three some tea. “Vakia, a generation ago, had this problem when the province was scourged with the plague. This tribe looked for relief to a new serum invented by Ashur, but Vakia’s leaders were sceptical. The old methods failed, as always, and the people deeply resented their leaders for failing to use this modern cure. These dispirited people saw through to the conclusions of their educated men and took matters into their own hands. Soldiers sided with the rebels and killed their officers. Provincial forces were sent in to wipe out this rebellion.” Scholar A opened up a large book which rested on the table in front of him. “The Secret History has the details. I, as a young officer, was amazed by the ferocity of the rebel defence. I shall neve forget the sight of women throwing bricks at my men. We raped them and they continued to fight back! We gained the upper hand, but I was left with the impression that, rather than always threaten people with guns, it is more lasting to gain their unswerving loyalty through the capture of their minds.”
“What this has to do with you,” said Scholar Aa in a soft, low voice, “is that in the religion of the priests there is one aspect our leaders never tire to promote: the Messiah.”
“People hope the Supreme Being will bring from the sky a man who will establish earthly happiness. This messianic cult stems from the discovery of smashed bodies underneath holes which dot our sky. The priests were obliged to explain this mystery and some of our religious brethren said that these corpses were spirit-bodies who had failed in their tunnel climb to heaven. The Supreme Being had cast them out to show that he would deal harshly with those who angered him.” Scholar A sipped from his glass. “This life,” he stretched out his right arm to release some tension in his shoulder, “could not secure our salvation, but other priests did not believe sin could occur in heaven.”
“Quite a fine legal point,”quipped the prisoner.
“So it may be,” said Scholar Aa dispassionately.
“These priests were more imaginative and said that the Supreme Being was mocking man’s understanding. Who could create life without the need of women? Who could hew warm, pulsating flesh from cold rock?” Scholar A, finding the teapot empty, called in the servant to take away the drinking utensils. “These radicals who hated the sterile thinking of their colleagues claimed that the Supreme Being would produce a spiritual leader whom no woman would be worthy to mother. The strongest tribes encouraged the expectation of a new age every time a fresh body was found. They grabbed more resources and slaves while men who did claim to be the Messiah led their followers to non-existent promised lands. Thankfully, a healthy scepticism settled in, but as the generations have passed the memories have faded and the opportunity exists to rekindle this religious excess.”
“You do not believe in the coming of any supernatural figure.” surmised the prisoner.
“Our faith lies in the existence of civilisations we have begun to discover.”
The prisoner was told about secret expeditions which had gone down pits in far away places. These led to other caverns, other skies. Seas of molten rock were discovered and one small cavern had solid ground. These excited explorers then found ancient artefacts. It was assumed that above their own world were other caverns with tribes living there and these corpses were people who had fallen down similar pits.
“One other thing on this matter which is worth mentioning is that intermittently strange four legged beasts which do not resemble any lizard have also been discovered with some of these bodies. Consequently, in populist religious imagery there appears a heavenly figure with the head and chest of a man and with the body and four legs of this strange animal. It is obvious you do not fit this description!” quipped Scholar A.
“No, I certainly do not in anyway.” icily agreed the prisoner.
“It seems in your world you ride such creatures judging from the saddles that are occasionally found on their backs.” added Scholar Aa
“As is the custom with our religious brethren: to every supposed ‘good’ there has to be a ‘bad’ and thus there is an inverted image of this spiritual creature which has the head of this beast and the body of a man. This monster exists in Hades and shall devour the likes of us when we are sent!”
The prisoner looked grimly at his tutors as they laughed.
*
Back in his cell, the prisoner knew he was important to them. However, it troubled him that he did not know words such as guns and factory. How did his tutors foresee tomorrow in this endless world of night?
Lying down on his filthy blanket after finishing his meal, he decided to lessen the riddles in his life by giving an account of himself. He sensed he should not mention the surface. He would be the leader of an expedition party which had met disaster while climbing down a shaft. Falling into the lake, he thought his companion had drowned. He would expect his tutors to mention the body which had been taken away. He would act surprised. To satisfy their curiosity he would also mention the manner in which horses are used in his world.
*
His tutors were pleased, but withheld mentioning the corpse.
“There is one question.”
“Go ahead,” said Scholar Aa.
“How do you tell the time?”
“Well, it is quite easy,” said Scholar A, “do you see that object on the wall, the device with the pendulum and numbers? It is called a clock, and we use it to regulate our wakeful activities. See how the clock-face goes from one to twenty-five? The interim period between say three and four represents a length of time we call an hour. In the hour, things may occur such as this present explanation. Were I to have an appointment with someone else at four o’clock, I would know as the clock hand approached the figure four that I would have to stop this talk and move to my next activity. In this way, order is brought into my visual collection of events. From hour to hour I gain my notion of past, present and future. When I think back to what I did at one o’clock, I see the past: what I do at this very moment is the present and my hope in what I shall want to do at four o’clock helps me to foresee the future. The present duration of twenty-five hours is called the ‘presentperiod’. The last period of twenty-five hours is known as ‘lastperiod’, while the coming period of twenty-five hours we wait to happen is simply referred to as ‘nextperiod’. A period is divided into two parts based on our bodily needs. From one o’clock through to 1500 hours we call it the ‘awake’ section, and this is when most people work. The next ten hours is simply called the ‘sleep’ section. The tribe is always in a busy state as people also work while others sleep.”
“What about the time between 2500 hours and one o’clock?”
“2500 hours and one o’clock are one and the same, as there really is no interim period between these two numbers.”
“Do you have a concept of a year?”
“What is a year?” Scholar A found this word peculiar for his tongue.
“It is a long term measurement of time which would include over three hundred of your periods.”
“You mean a cycle? This is our equivalent term. We have this notion of a year as you call it - due to a drop in the earth’s temperatures for seventy periods. When this cold season vanishes, we denote it as the end of a passage of time known as a Cycle. This is because many cycles of the clock have to pass to accomplish this lengthy duration. Exactitude is an important principle in our world, so, when a woman tells me her male child is one year old, I know three hundred and fifty periods have been measured on our set timepieces. Also, each cycle is broken into ten sections of thirty five periods which are called tenths.”
“We should get on with the matter at hand.” suggested Scholar Aa.
“You know from other discussions that we are involved in a long struggle against the men of Snetha. Since last seeing you, we have decided to read to you some extracts from the Secret History to deepen your education.” Scholar A opened the book:
*
SECRET HISTORY. Book V.
JEHU. First General. Personal Interpretation. Civil War: Causes.
Lecture One. Military Academy Six. Cycle 840.
TRANSCRIPT.
*
“I shall be reading out segments,” explained Scholar A.
“This First General is now a historian,” remarked Scholar Aa.
“You mean he is a presentday -” the prisoner corrected himself - “period chronicle?”
“The Secret History is mainly a primary source, but we have chosen to present to you a modern opinion,” answered Scholar Aa.
“I see.” The prisoner sighed his displeasure.
Scholar A eyed the page in front of him.
“Four centuries ago, the Unnites, who are the original inhabitants of Snetha, were conquered by us. We established several settlements but needed the local advice of the Unnites to tap the natural resources of their land. The Unnites knew our settlers would proceed to adopt their views...” Scholar A looked at the ticking clock. “Time is a subtle force...Teknos welcomed the Unnites’ eagerness to help our settlers...Teknos was the name of our capital until it became Telsh. I’m not sure if it is mentioned here, but Apsu was the original name of our province.”
“Why were the names changed?”
Scholar A glanced at the prisoner. “They have evolved into their present form...Two centuries ago Ashur appointed Theosol, an accomplished Snetha Telshman, as governor of the province. He secretly negotiated with the Unnites to gather the support of the surrounding provinces to rise against Ashur.” Scholar A flicked over a couple of pages... “rebellions in these provinces were started at the same time and our local occupation troops were stretched to the limit. Our shocked leaders could not imagine Telshmen fighting Telshmen but the renegades no longer saw themselves as men of Ashur. In the south the provinces were still peaceful so the risk was taken to march the occupation armies stationed there to the north.”
The prisoner saw Scholar Aa walk over to a chair on his right where there lay a small cloth case. The scholar took a map from the case which showed the prisoner where the national boundaries of this world lay two centuries ago. The map was spread out on a table.
“In the province of Vakia, the high ground around the town of Moloc provided our armies with the best defensive positions. Theosol had halted his advance in the neighbouring province of Magan so as to re-organise his forces. When Theosol’s fist slammed into our steel palm this civil war - in our eyes this is what it was and still is - reached its climax.” Scholar A drew an invisible line along the battle heights with his finger. “There was only stalemate...After three periods of slaughter both sides retired their exhausted armies. The Unnites were relieved that they had freed themselves and their northern neighbours from the mastery of Ashur. Theosol had achieved this, yet the liberation of the northern provinces was to him merely a stepping stone to the supreme reward of imperial government.”
“There has been a war of attrition ever since...” Scholar Aa started folding up the map.” In the last hundred cycles, there have been truces but they have not lasted long. Vakia’s last gasp was during such a rest, and even the renegades were pleased we had cut it short. However, this war has gone on for far too long and the lives of several generations of young men have been thrown away for next to nil gains. Ashur is tired of this folly, and our leaders believe they have a scheme which will break the deadlock.”
“Am I involved?”
“Oh yes,” Scholar A said casually, “you are very much involved, for it is in you a vagabond from some other world - that our last hope lies.”
Chapter Two
A Question of Balance
The prisoner knew as he walked down the dark, cold corridor with his extra guards that this visit would be different. When the door swung open to the well-lit interrogation room, he could see six men instead of the usual two.
“So this is our ‘angel’ who has fallen from the sky.” The supreme leader looked at the prisoner for the first time and understood why the fishermen had mistaken him. His senior priest bowed down.
“Get up, Levi-Aton,” commanded the supreme leader, “it is not he.”
The two intellectuals were amused by their spiritual colleague.
The prisoner saw Scholar A point to the man who had spoken. “This is First Marshal Rabshaketh who is our supreme military leader.”
The First Marshal was standing to Scholar A’s left and was taller than the rest. The prisoner noticed the grey streaks in his black hair. The First Marshal wistfully gazed at the prisoner and his look softened the strong, angular features of his mid-forties face.
“Next to the First Marshal is First General Ogai, who is one of Ashur’s finest generals.”
The prisoner noticed the general’s stern eyes.
“Levi-Aton, who is now standing,” wryly remarked Scholar A, “is the Chief Priest. Behind him stands a lesser religious official.”
The priest was smaller than the two officers. The prisoner thought the nameless official also stood with less stature.
“Two members of the Northern League,” continued Scholar A, “want to leave this enemy alliance. These tribes feel they have become mere tools to satisfy Snetha’s own designs for empire building. In councils where these two tribes have stated their disillusionment, Snetha has strongly rebuked them. Both tribes want to play lesser roles in this weary conflict, but the renegades fear any withdrawal will upset the balance of power.”
“Nevertheless,” interrupted the First Marshal, “such dissenting tribes could be persuaded to switch sides.” He glanced at the prisoner.
“The renegades shall be denounced as the enemies of heaven,” stated the Chief Priest.
The two scholars displayed their cynical smiles.
The period came when the prisoner was to travel to Telsh. He was made to put on a pair of grey overalls, boots, gloves and a balaclava which hid his face. He joined a twenty-man platoon dressed in similar clothing.
“Welcome,” said Scholar Aa beside him, “we want your entry into the city to be a secret. These men belong to the First Marshal’s personal guard.”
He saw that several men were as tall as himself. The platoon walked out from the fortress and he looked back to see it go out of view when they came to a mountain valley. The company zigzagged across the hilly base of this deep vale. He noticed snippets of dry grass strutting between a sea of pebbles. After hours of pushing themselves up and down hills with their heavy knapsacks, the escort halted.
“Lie down,” whispered Scholar Aa.
The prisoner saw the whole escort do the same.
He could feel the smooth round stones on his stomach. Nearby were a row of spidery ants climbing similar pebbles. The captain raised his hand and a soldier pointed his rifle halfway up the next hill. The prisoner heard a rumbling sound which grew louder. Small rocks and clouds of dust showered the escort. The mountain valley shook with noise. The world then fell silent.
“Avalanche,” muttered Scholar Aa, “we can get up.”
“That hillside is a long way,” remarked the prisoner.
The escort walked over the hill.
They saw flying, whirling lights speckle a pile of large black stones which had dropped from the valley side. The prisoner was fascinated by the glow worms and fireflies. Hundreds of these green specks lit the scene of the avalanche. The falling rocks which had disturbed their rest had revealed their hiding places. Little centipedes were crawling about and the prisoner was mesmerised by them as he looked through their clear bodies to their quivering legs. Walking amidst the fallen rocks, the patrol could see hues of red, blue, yellow dots come together and blend into the colours of the spectrum. The bright hues would disappear when the dots backed away. The straggling escort watched the colours come back together as they started to climb the towering slopes. The captain ordered his men to regroup and look towards the darkness ahead.
“We have to be on our guard,” remarked Scholar Aa.
“You know no other way of life?” queried the prisoner.
“We need such tension to keep us together.”
The steep incline occasionally made a soldier slip.
“This stony wilderness can be difficult.” The prisoner took in a deep breath.
“I feel,” puffed Scholar Aa, “only the fittest will survive.”
“You will live, old man!” laughed the prisoner.
The escort reached a high cliff and followed its base. They came to a fissure which went through to the other side of the rock. The crack was wide enough for a man to walk inside as long as he went one shoulder first. The sides angled to join each other several feet further up. Scholar Aa told the prisoner that it took four minutes to reach the other side. “This leads to a plateau.”
“There is little space,” remarked the prisoner as he slowly stepped through the stifling darkness. He felt moisture on the rough hewn rock with his free hand. There was a wisp of cool air and the prisoner was relieved to reach the exit. He handed his small backpack to a soldier.
“Only six more men to come.”
“I feel something...”
Lifting the balaclava from the back of the prisoner’s neck, Scholar Aa picked off a leech. Scholar Aa borrowed an arrow from a soldier with a bow and placed the wriggling parasite on the ground. He cruelly pricked the leech with the point and watched the blood spill out. Returning the arrow, Scholar Aa mentioned,“...there will always be a place for a silent weapon of death.”
“However, how do you deal with any strong objections to mass extermination?”
“The priests are to blame for providing absolutes such as good, evil...our social demands should well outweigh any doubt on what is right. I only feel guilt when I fail to carry out my duties to Ashur. I am only against the killing of social parasites when these executions may lead to manpower shortages for Ashur’s armies. Our leaders twenty-eight cycles ago passed an edict which forbade any male foetus to be aborted until this civil war was over. This responsible decision has allowed Ashur to maintain a steady build-up of her military strength.”
The escort pitched tents beside the rock wall.
Scholar Aa went over to the captain. This officer was floating a needle, on a stick, in a bowl, with notches along the rim.
“We are going north-east,” said Scholar Aa.
Next period, the escort crossed the plain and along the way the prisoner spotted several anthills. The escort then climbed more rough heights to escape the desert. They reached the peak of their last steep hill.
*
Below them, they could see the plains of No-Saer, scarred by steel towers. There they stood, a thousand hot furnaces blasting together their products for war and luxury. Around these glowing structures were long flat factory buildings which housed hundreds of blaring machines. These screamed their curses to a teeming mass of workers. These grimy figures went about this metallic version of hell trying to satisfy the shrill cries for attention.
“You seem puzzled.”
“Such strange metal structures and weird objects, all these people, the whole thing is on such a gigantic scale, I have not seen anything like it.”
“The educated classes have shown how nature can be conquered to meet our needs.”
The prisoner grinned.
“These hollow creatures are unable to savour the many delights of life and gain meaning from this world by seeing machine part n-6532A fit perfectly with machine part n-6126B. The cogs and wheels they care for grind them into a dull and terrible submission. This scene is the supreme signature of our technological progress which whole generations of men and women have worked in or fought for.”
Death laughed.
Scholar Aa raised his finger to his face and stroked it towards the right then to the left and then to the right again. “Tick-tock goes the clock. Tick-tock goes the clock. Tick-tock go all the clocks that all the people must all watch. The jaws of production demand order and regulation if total output is to be achieved. No emotion. All things must be synchronised, if people are to be assured a portion of the many benefits this efficiency will bring.”
*
The company climbed halfway down a ridge where they reached a dirt road. This path took them to a defence post which consisted of a tall brick tower with a steel gate across the road. Manning the post, which no enemy legion had ever marched towards, were several bored guards. The gate was swung open to let the escort pass. A messenger from the tower went off to tell higher authorities of their arrival.
The road wound its way down to the bottom of the ridge where the ground level was the same as the outer city. However, their view was blocked by a high wall which ran endlessly in both directions. Walking alongside it, the company came to a guard tower which rose from behind the wall. Passwords were shouted out between a tower guard and the escort and a rope was flung down. While climbing to the top, the prisoner expected to see the industrial quagmire beyond, but his vision was impeded by a higher wall which was twenty yards further on. The company walked up this man-made gorge until they came to a small garrison house tucked beside another guard tower.
“We have to wait here for the train,” explained Scholar Aa.
“What is a tr-ain?”
“Do you see the row of wooden planks with the two lines of iron rod sticking up? A steam-powered vehicle called a train runs along them...”
The prisoner saw white clouds surrounding the engine which arrived pulling two carriages. The escort boarded them. The windows, which were neatly cut out squares, had been covered, which disappointed the prisoner. The soldiers swayed in the interior darkness. Scholar Aa explained to the prisoner that they were travelling between two defensive rings. The wheels screeched and made a high whirring sound. The train slowed down. The carriage rattled. He could just hear Scholar Aa say that they would be travelling along an inner causeway. “Telsh is broken into inner and outer cities called Sheol and No-Saer.” He saw Scholar Aa pull off his balaclava. “Sheol is sensual and intellectual and a majestic altar of worship for the priests.” Scholar Aa wiped the sweat off his brow. “Sheol has no one seeking heaven when her citizens live so well here in this world. Sheol is with authority, philosophy, culture and science for those who wish to be knowledgeable and wise throughout their long lives.” A board broke away. He caught a glimpse of dirty, noisy streets filled with hundreds of people around stalls and calling out for food and clothing. Long flame lanterns hanging from the tops of derelict buildings shone over living skeletons. Several children fought for vegetable scraps and pushed over a man riding a triangle on two wheels. He was feeling refreshed by the breeze even though it brought in the foul smells of the slums. He was shoved to one side as two soldiers hammered up a curtain.
“Your education has been bought at the cost of thousands who exist like slaves.”
“There will always be those in every tribe who will rise above the crowd to exploit it. Who can threaten the human spirit which will seize upon every opportunity to proclaim its mastery?” The train travelled faster. Their bodies pressed back against the seat when the train slowed down for a climb. He saw every soldier take off their balaclavas in the sweltering heat. He was disallowed from doing this and the sweat trickled through his garments. He knew the people in No-Saer did not have the time or energy to think further than their next meal and sleep. The train squealed to a savage halt.
“We must disembark.”
The prisoner followed the file of twelve men on the station. He saw that they were on a high plateau and in the distance was the grand sprawl of the outer city. The walls of an enormous canyon stood between Sheol and No-Saer which were connected by a thin causeway whose angled defensive walls rose to meet the outer barriers of the inner city. His eyes were startled by the white marble buildings the escort passed, and he was amazed by the smooth skins of the people who walked amid these serene streets. Their well-proportioned bodies befitted the perfect harmony of this human paradise which he nevertheless felt was cold, sterile and unnatural. They came to a large mansion and the escort left the prisoner with Scholar Aa. These two walked down a hallway lined with guards and went inside a spacious room. The First Marshal was there to greet them. The prisoner was allowed to take off his balaclava and gloves as the supreme leader took his two visitors to another room where they feasted on fish, fruit and vegetable dishes.
He bathed, dined and relaxed in the plush living quarters of the House of Rabshaketh. When the period of his public debut arrived, he was well-groomed and dressed in a pair of brilliant white overalls. He boarded an open carriage which would take him down the causeway to an amphitheatre. Surrounding him was a huge entourage of priests and military guards. This regal train travelled slowly to the large stadium which held forty thousand soldiers,workers and prestigious citizens. These people stared at him in wonder as he walked up the last few steps of the rostrum. Large crowds which stretched to the nearby defensive rings waited many hours to catch a glimpse of him and listen to the echoes of his speech. The generals hoped the spies in the crowd would see him as the physical proof to confirm the rumours which were spreading through the provinces.
*
“Men of Ashur and the free alliance. I come on behalf of First Marshal Rabshaketh to offer you life. Those who doubt me must ask: where is my father? Where is my mother? Where rests your confidence to rebel? The men of Ula-Resk rest their strength with the tribes of the north, but like a rope fraying at the end these strands will become untangled from their hold. The north will snap loose from the trickery and deceit of the heirs of Theosol. These nations will open their eyes to this beautiful land and see the crops which provide for your prosperity. Snetha clings desperately to the precipice of his lies as he watches the rope unravel in his hands. Below him you will smash his tottering walls and lay Ula-Resk to ruin. Will the dead bodies of the leaders of Ula-Resk save their followers from you who are my sword? Who will they depend on to defy my edict? Who will save them when they weep for peace? Who will show mercy when they look for help? Snetha will see his pride come to nothing...we cherish liberty. We threaten tyranny. We show the will to fight. Praise be to you who are not tired of the killing. The renegades will perish on the blood and dust of the battlefield. Power is the supreme quality for which we seek to control our destiny and shape history...”
*
There was silence. He looked at this sea of hopeful faces with his intelligent piercing eyes. The crowd applauded. He could not help but snigger. These cheering people were willing to sacrifice their lives. He was a fraud weaving his words of deceit around their corrupt intellects. They will die for a lie and this made him laugh. He felt no pity. No tears and no sad sighs.
Death was happy.
*
Rabshaketh was interested while Ogai, who was a hard man to impress, looked grim. The intelligence officer thought Lucus and Brutus were pleased with the report.
“...The Northern League had ten major members, but since the Telsh speech - at the Ring of Delfi -fifty periods have passed and we see that only Naural still stands with Snetha. The renegades have retreated via the Plains of Rahab and are building defence works along a short line which stretches from the Walls of Roth-Sun through to the Lake of Plenti.”
INTELLIGENCE SUMMARY ONE
Lieutenant-Colonel Rubasov J. S.
First Marshal Rabshaketh - Men of Ashur; First Marshal Lucus - Men of Saleh; First General Ogai - Men of Ashur; First General Brutus - Men of Lake Evermore.
SECRET HISTORY. RECORD VI. Document 144.
“The men of Naural prefer to send their souls to Hades than join us!”exclaimed Ogai when the Lieutenant - Colonel had left. He stood up to stretch his legs. “Servant a lamp!”
“We already have two...” said Lucus.
“I despise this cold weather.”
The servant placed the lamp on the large table which was covered with documents and maps. Rabshaketh and Brutus were re-reading the intelligence officer’s report.
“The enemy will fight to the death.”
“We have given them no other choice.”
Ogai picked up a pencil. The point was precise and sharp as he tapped it with his finger. Ogai rested his big frame into his chair. He doodled several lines on a map.