Tonka recalled a moment in the Lightship when the feeble struggle of a young boy of three, torn from the hands of a man of sixty calendars in the deluge of water in the city of Tulla, Atlantis’ main commercial artery, came under focus on the monitors. The dreary scene of the boy’s helplessness in the face of the calamity remained enshrined in his mind even after the horror ended and other less spine chilling scenes appeared.
The little boy’s weary effort in the towering waves of water was as ineffectual as the senile attempts of the old man to keep his hold on the child. Tonka could still see in his mind’s eye how the boy, separated from his guide by the huge splash, hit the side of a fast reversing car. His piercing scream and the guileless glaze of his eyes before he disappeared in the shroud of water still troubled him.
The scene evoked lots of empathic reactions amongst Guardians in the Lightship. Not even Ganua’s euphemism "Death must be a garb of many shades, else there’s little cheer in the glare of its single color" could inspire them to see the operation in a different light.
If Tonka had a way of rewinding and recasting the entire operation omitting the scene of the boy and the old man, he would have done it with joy and be exorcised of the prick of conscience. He was well aware, however, that in the subtle game of creation, only one rule mattered - Forward March. The procession had to continue to infinitum no matter how colossal the results, for the one law of the universe - cyclicity - demanded an end must come to every effort, human or divine.
Tonka found solace in such thought. It healed his conscience of guilt. It also inspired him to see the implications of his cause in the soothing euphemism of Ganua. He could not admit anything less than reckon with death as “a garb of many shades.” To think otherwise would be a slight to the Guardians and their reconstruction processes. Atlanteans were not dead. If anything, their forms were being redefined.
Tonka heaved a sigh of relief. He could feel the Guardian in him take over from the Tonka who had wriggled at the borders of guilt. He rid himself of conscience’s clutches. He now had the will to face the screens with the attention required.
Rescued from Atlantis before the quake and the surge of water, Tonka remembered being flown with seven other survivors in the saucers back to the Lightship. While some Guardians debriefed six out of the seven survivors with the exception of Daya in another section of the Lightship, Ganua and his aides hosted Tonka in the control chambers of the space vessel. So he had seen the initial cracks of Atlantis and how these deepened and pulled out to permit the deluge.
Aside the risen bloc that replaced the Deemen Sea, a riot of continental blocs had emerged from the loops of the cracks. Runoff waters on the risen blocs had formed lakes, rivers, oceans and seas along depressions on Atlantis. Some of the new rivers and lakes did not retain the salty taste of the runoff waters.
Tonka counted on the screens six major blocs and a tiny berg on the southern horn from the differing perspectives of the scenes. Vast fields of sand spread on two of those blocs. Dust stirred and then settled down on the barren fields. Elsewhere, pillars of rocks reared from the recesses of rising continents and deep waters to tower over most part of hosting blocs.
Layered with the grim growths of aquatic vegetation on rugged surfaces, some of the new blocs were not habitable in Atlantean terms, at least, for some time. Yet other blocs had all the chemical prerequisites and vegetation necessary for habitation. Tonka could not discern where the Guardians earmarked as the site of the next civilization. He looked frequently in Ganua’s direction hoping the Guardian would read his mind as reflected in the consistent shuffle of his hands and feet. Ganua took no notice until Tonka voiced out his worry.
"Which one of these continents will host the new Atlantis?"
"A little chip off the old bloc," Ganua, the chocolate colored, broad shouldered Guardian with disarming smiles and naive looking eyes, replied. “Over there...” He highlighted the emergent continent on the screen. “Here’s the new Atlantis, a chunk of the old Atlantis that survived the deluge. It retains all the minerals and verdure of Atlantis. Not a bad home for the new breed of Atlanteans I would say from the look of things. The engineers have done a marvelous job. Can’t you see that for yourself in the few structures they’ve erected so far?"
"Structures?" Tonka asked, screwing an eyelid.
“Infrastructures,” Ganua said. "Houses, roads, clean water, light...an environment that is conducive for the civilization. I suppose you know you don’t have to start from the scratch after knowing much luxury. Atlantis' continuity has been considered by Guardians. It has to be a solid base for further launch of civilization."
"Of course, I’m not unaware of that. What infrastructures were you talking about?"
"Just over there," Ganua said, zooming into focus on the screen the landmass bordering the northern shores of the displaced Deemen Sea.
Tonka could not cheer. From his observation of the nucleated community proposed for the select Atlanteans and the stock of extraterrestrials, he did not see anything fantastic to warrant such emotion. Except for the network of not too sleek roads, verdure lawns and gardens, abundant water and food, a warm climate and the other basic conditions for human life, new Atlantis lacked the typical luster and magnificence he had seen in the drowned Atlantis.
He saw instead a glaring erosion of the scientific and technological values of the lost civilization. No means of transportation of any sort, no telecommunication systems, and no blazing street lights - just a speckle of houses at the edge of vast vegetation.
The neighboring forest stirred with a sense of hapless life. A variety of animals jostled in peace despite their distinct characteristics in the rippling pond of life as if cheering at the inevitable return of a more tamed clan of humans.
Species of elegant birds too fawned around the yet inhabited community and capered off and on, chirping, anticipating the birth of a community of Atlanteans and extraterrestrials.
Tonka’s mind began to reel afar. Other accessories of civilization were not part of the experiment. The Guardians in their meticulousness would not have overlooked anything. He knew even the tiniest of specks in the operation would not have gone unchecked. He reasoned they might have chosen to equip the new stock of humans with higher psychic potential to enable them perform most of the functions automated gadgets would have done in a normal Atlantean setting.
He felt the Guardians had adopted the option of telepathic communication as a unique replacement for cumbersome monitors and telephones. There seemed to be a unifying factor in mutual sharing of thought forms. An easy way of verifying evil intent amongst the humans. The absence of any defined mode of travel meant the time and space collapsible technique had been introduced to the Atlanteans in the Lightship. They could on return to new Atlantis simply travel around great distances physically and spiritually by an increase in their awareness. This could be done through collapsing time and space barriers as they had done before the end of Atlantis.
"So we are ascribing to the options of telepathy and the time and space collapsible," Tonka mumbled almost to himself. "Atlanteans never in any way lacked these faculties," he argued self-unconsciously. "Why didn’t we just allow them to continue in those molds? Why did we have to strain ourselves to reenact what had been part of them if that is all there is to it?"
Having said the words, Tonka regretted his self-indictment for the Guardians were only aiding him to launder his dirty linens soiled by Atlanteans' inexorable aspirations. "Maybe I shouldn’t have said this after all the eons of changes like this one. But it gets on the nerves sometimes, you know," he said as an afterthought.
Ganua noticed the hint of remorse in Tonka’s last statement. He patted the mercurial Guardian on the side and said, "I do understand how you feel - everyone does - we are all in it. You know we have an ultimate goal and you are just the vital anchor. I admit telepathic communication was part of Atlantis. I also admit th
e time and space collapsible technique had been in use in the outgoing era, but not in the sense it will be applied from now onwards. In old Atlantis they had options of travel. We had the aerophibian Hansas, hovercrafts, cars and all kinds of ships. In new Atlantis they will only have the option of the time and space collapsible. It will engender creativity and awaken all the knowledge we are storing inside of them at the end. In no time the civilization would be back full swing, much wondrous than her old self. I don’t think a Guardian of your status needs any explanation. Perhaps you are just being reluctant about going through the storm of civilization again."
Tonka gave a queer grin. "Perhaps," he conceded, feeling the dread of going back to new Atlantis as its Manu.
# # #
Dust begun to settle down on the turf of new Atlantis. The still smoldering heat from the grave restructure coupled with swirling dust enveloped the landmass in a very thin layer. With the tilt on the northern hemisphere still in place, the Guardians had put two communities together. Smaller than the new Atlantis waiting to be inhabited, the landmasses on the two other continental blocs were not similar to the chip from old Atlantis in terms of verdure, mineral constituents and climate.
Numa puffed with an air of satisfaction and broke the silence in the Disk Center when the last space vessel bearing the engineers flew out of the continental bloc nearest in comparison in contour and vegetation to new Atlantis.
"Blackhole to all departments. All operations accomplished so far. Keep the spirit high. We are about to lift the southern hemisphere in the best possible way to tally with the northern slant. Consider this maneuvre as vital as any other maneuvre we have done. It will check the landmass from further belch or hiccup. We already have the number of requisite blocs. After the southern tilt, the Atlanteans in the Lightship at the moment can return to their new abode. But not all the extraterrestrials are returning with them. Just few of each stock of extraterrestrials will do. The rest would be blended later in two groups to inhabit the other two blocs where the engineers have done some work.
"The new Atlantis remains the cradle of the whole mixed stock of beings because it’ll be the base of our Guardian or Manu. Much later the other inhabited blocs will provide the needed challenge, engendering a new course of civilization. The question of language will be resolved in the telepathic impulses they will relay amongst themselves. Each new Atlantean will soon identify with a particular variant of the languages of displaced Atlantis through telepathy. It’ll be the basis of the groupings we envisage in the nearest future.
"Guardian Ganua of the Lightship, please take note. Eight ladies from Venus, three men from Jupiter, five men and two ladies from Mars, five ladies and a man from the Moon, and four men from Uranus are enough to cohabitate new Atlantis. The remaining beings from the Moon and Venus are to inhabit the eastern bloc on your screens. The Martians and Uranutians will occupy the other bloc across the Deemen Sea. The Jupiterians are to be shared between the two blocs. Make sure the debriefing is thorough and get back to me as soon as you can. Over."
"Lightship to Blackhole. Guardian Ganua speaking. Instructions acknowledged. Debriefing underway. Over."
"All right, Lightship. All departments get ready for tilt. Count down from seven. Begin."
Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Zero!
Numa turned the Command Module mains’ knob clockwise an inch at a time and the landmass started a gradual lift on the southern hemisphere. It tallied soon with the angle of projection of the northern hemisphere on the screens.
"Blackhole calling on all departments. Tilt effected. New Atlantis is stable within orbit now. No problem envisaged. Lightship, prepare to send the stock of beings to their abodes within the next two swirls. Congratulations, all departments!" Numa’s voice echoed on the console. Now to fellow Guardians in the Disk Center, he enthused, "The drill was quite easy. A mission accomplished. Thanks for your support!”
The Guardians nodded even though they knew the operation was not completed. But the greatest hurdle had been scaled.
# # #
Daya sat crouched at a corner of the debriefing cabin in the Lightship. He stared with glazed brown eyes as if in a stupor, his hair dishevelled. Six other Atlanteans shared the large cabin with him. None of them free from the spell of incomprehension, all staring like marionettes in a high-brow boutique.
Daya soon remembered being flown off Atlantis earlier in a saucer-like spacecraft alongside Pullama and Tullami. He remembered too how they had arrived at the base of a giant spaceship which carried the saucer in its holding and how they were led out of the saucer into a cabin - the cabin in which he sat now. He also remembered they went through a process he did not understand.
He realized his awareness of how they got there dimmed soon after they had passed through a small cubicle, which beamed down purple rays from a huge machine. His memory became foggy and blanked out with nothing to remind him of the past. A giddy space of time and a new awareness took over - the awareness of the cabin to which the aliens had taken them.
Seated now in the large cabin, no alien crossed the range of his vision. The number of people in the cabin had increased too. Five others had joined Tullami and Pullama. On stool-like projections from the metallic walls of the cabin sat four others - two ladies, a man and a boy. His colleagues Pullama and Tullami occupied similar seats. By his reckoning, the young ladies looked twenty-two at most. Beautiful, voluptuous, and full of warmth and guileless stares. Their physiques and modest outlooks gave them away as people from Ditara, Tulla or Sondibo, but certainly, not the flashy and much taller kind from Songhai.
The boy, about fifteen calendars, starry-eyed and lithe in built, came across as a typical Dhusaean. Even then Daya knew he could only hazard a guess. He had nothing to confirm his hunch, when these places belong to a civilization his imagination could only conjure in a faint sense. The more he tried to remember the nature of the civilization flickering in his imagination, the more distant it became. Something still told him the other man in his early fifties could have come from just about anywhere in Atlantis.
Atlantis!
Where had he heard the name Atlantis before? He dug hard into the crevices of memory but found no clue to time’s hidden vault. You are imagining strange things, he told himself. He looked at the others. They must be under a spell or trance, he thought. They were all silent, eyes open and distant, not like people who had seen anything stir in a whole lifetime. This cabin of purple rays, to what realm did it belong?
He trained his ears to decipher the ranting outside the cabin, but nothing there droned to him with meaning. The door swung open of a sudden. Three huge Guardians with fluffing wings walked in ushering twenty-eight beings of distinct physiques and skin tones into the cabin. The Atlanteans stiffened on sighting the newcomers but made no attempt to move.
The Guardians led the extraterrestrials in haste through the purple-rayed cubicle one after the other. Daya could not place them as belonging to the Atlantis of his imagination, nor along with the rest in the cabin. These beings from across oceans of time were quite alien to his faculties of reason despite their human physiques. Some were very tall as compared to Atlanteans while some were petit and short. Their skin tones were as varied as their build - chocolate brown, peach ebony, and tawny complexions.
Most of the women had dark fleecy hair, while others appeared blondish. Blends of close-cropped dark and wavy dark-brown were the colors of the men’s hair. Both sexes of the newcomers looked exceptional, young and vibrant with supple skins.
Daya watched them blanche from the force of the purple rays on their senses as each went through the debriefing drill in the cubicle. They came out on the other side looking much dapper and calmer, finding space to stand near the Atlanteans.
One of the three Guardians addressed everyone in the cabin as the drill ended.
"Listen, all of you are coming with us back to the sauce
rs. We are going on an excursion to Atlantis," he said. "Your very home. Follow me now."
He led them through an adjoining door. All the twenty-eight extraterrestrials and eight Atlanteans filed out after him to an unknown fate.
Moments later, four saucers crinkled out of the Lightship towards new Atlantis. Another four swirled out - two aimed at the eastern continental bloc and the last two toward the bloc across the Deemen Sea.
A couple of micro-swirls to the bargain and new Atlantis once again knew the presence of human species - few privileged Atlanteans and beings from sister planets. The Guardians’ experiment of mixed species had taken due course, giving birth to a new civilization.
Part Three
NEWLAND, RIAGENA
MODERN DAY
Chapter Eleven
Newland, Riagena. January 16, 1996.
A rooster’s loud crow serenaded the neighborhood before the first light of dawn and woke Netu Deo from sleep. He blinked his eyes over and over adjusting his focus round the bed in the darkness. Another round of petulant crow weaned his sleep-laden consciousness to the call of a new day. Then the rooster paused without warning.
Netu strained his ears one more time towards the window to catch the early morning crooning of the happy rooster. The indefinite pause of the bird disappointed him for he had begun to love its pleasant herald of dawn each new day. He looked forward to hearing the kind of natural rhythm it provided whenever he stirred from bed for it signified the overcoming of the fear of night and its play houses of evil.
Every time the rooster crowed, he realized it meant the beginning of great change - the change each dawn brings, which could be good or bad. Each time the last traces of night phased away over the edge of civilization enthroning daylight, it seemed to him the rooster reckoned with the need to perfect yet another step in the dance of life. So the rooster’s crow this dawn urged him to confront the day with heroism; by honing his mind and then his tired body. He had no excuse to feel weak or slow-witted if even a rooster could acknowledge the day’s challenge and flaunt its preparedness in its proud crow.
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