Mention My Name in Atlantis

by John Jakes

  "My fellow Atlanteans! The freedom from tyranny and misrule which we have so long craved has been won—but for a high price. The Island Kingdom is bankrupt. And most of it lies in ruins. Putting those unhappy circumstances out of mind, let us face the future with a positive attitude. I have spent the afternoon discoursing with their excellencies, the members of the royal house of Zorop. Their world is much like ours, though it lies far across the heavens—"

  Superstitious mutterings, then. And many signs against the evil eye. All were not as familiar as I with the stunning cosmology revealed by the Zorophim.

  "—From these counsels, we have found a happy solution. We—the Atlanteans—have been invited, one and all, to migrate to the 'planet' Zorop. There, I am convinced, we will be well-received, granted status as free citizens, and be able to live our lives peacefully and democratically. On the morrow, we shall erect ballot boxes for a public vote. I urge a yes vote to the migration proposal, since I believe that, in order to survive, most of us would have to leave fair Atlantis anyway. Why not go in comfort? True, it means an awesome journey across vast 'interstellar space.' But that journey, His Splendor assures me, will be eminently safe. He has also made a quick head count. Due to the large number of Zorophimian vessels of exploration—vessels even now hovering out of sight in the heavens—all Atlanteans can be accommodated. Therefore what say you, citizens?"

  With no more information than that, the populace burst into ecstatic cheers! Which only goes to show the dreadful manipulative powers of popular politicians! Call me a cynic, but I believed I knew the real reason for the generous offer of the Zorophim.

  Conax, however, didn't go along with the majority.

  "There'll be no Chimerians aboard your hell-spawned ships! We mean to return to our homeland—and continue our supremacy in pillage and plunder."

  To this, his minions shouted agreement.

  Babylos, however, was ready for the quibble.

  "I'm afraid, your highness, that if the vote tomorrow is yes, you and your fellows will be required to accept it. Despite your superior fighting ability, you and your butch—ah, warriors are outnumbered by the populace. You could, if necessary, be put down, now that your advantage of surprise is gone. However, let's be reasonable! On Zorop, you'll be allowed to retain your title and perquisites. Further, His Splendor plans to put you in complete charge of the army."

  "Complete charge?"

  "Complete and utter. A challenging responsibility, wouldn't you say?"

  "Um—well—it's worth thinking about."

  Being not without some sense of proportion, he ultimately agreed to the bargain.

  Poor fellow, he didn't discover till much later that the function of the army on Zorop was a hollow one; indeed, there had been no army at all until his coming, for peace was universal. By the time he made that unhappy finding, though, he had a conflict of somewhat different nature on his hands!

  His Splendor glided to my side, placing a friendly hand on my arm. But I can tell a wheedling touch every time, no matter what celestial sphere saw its origin!

  "Naturally, Vintner," said the blue king, "since we offer your fellow citizens the means of survival, we trust you will repay the gesture and bring with you on the journey—ah—certain valuable objects—"

  "Vines to grow the Sacred Fuel? I thought that would be part of the bargain!"

  "But of course."

  "I suppose I might be able to do that. I presume my intimate knowledge of the Fuel will entitle me to a high post at your court?"

  "Most assuredly," he returned. "A splendid residence, too. Plus a handsome stipend to defray expenses."

  "Done!"

  I confess the decision came as a relief. Perhaps, at long last, I might be free of hand-to-mouth existence. Become a vintner in deed as well as word.

  And I certainly wasn't getting any younger! If I had to change careers—not to mention places of residence!—this seemed an ideal time.

  Of course the plebiscite passed the next day, Babylos personally counting the pebble-boxes.

  He announced the results right before sunset, to more enthusiastic cheering by the multitude. In truth, we Atlanteans have always been a flexible people, quick to find an advantage in an apparent defeat.

  A holiday mood prevailed during the next few days, as small bundles of possessions were packed—the Zorophim had decreed a maximum weight allowance per person—and preparations for departure went forward.

  I busied myself with the arbor cuttings, each of which I carefully packed in earth-balls and burlap. None too healthy in my own garden, they would—I hoped!—manage to flourish on Zorop.

  One disappointing circumstance intruded as citizens made ready for the leave-taking. Through Babylos, we were informed that the Zorophim didn't wish others of our kind to know anything about the migration. They tried to be polite about it. Yet it was clear they didn't think much of our race. They wanted no traffic with our "planet," save for that which had already transpired.

  After some sharp bargaining long into the night, Babylos came up with another inspired solution. Atlantis must seem to have been destroyed by some mysterious tragedy!

  Thus, on a clear, sun-drenched morning at the beginning of the month of the Eager Virgin, in the year of the Warty Toad, the wondrous iridescent ships of the Zorophim descended.

  One by one they accepted their quota of Atlanteans—wicked Mimmo; swollen Rhomona; one-eyed Menos—all were going.

  Many wept as they took farewell looks at their beloved Island Kingdom. But most seemed cheerful and optimistic.

  As soon as one vessel had loaded, it lifted from the palace courtyard to make way for another. I discovered there had been a sort of lottery among the captains. The losers—two—were forced to transport the Chimerical horde. These worthies, I later learned, tried to build cook-fires of the ship furnishings, and insisted upon taking swims in the Sacred Fuel, until orders from Conax put a stop to it.

  My cuttings and I went aboard the last vessel but one; the imperial flagship, as it turned out. And why not? Wasn't I a person of some substance?

  As I boarded, a tear moistened my eye. Farewell, O noble island of my birth!

  Hiding my sorrow, I took my place in the forward control compartment.

  The captain. His Subservience, caused the craft to rise by manipulating several bizarre rods and levers. Another mysterious item of machinery was a kind of quartz crystal set into one wall. Its face produced a clear image of Atlantis growing smaller and smaller beneath us.

  I studied the picture in the heart of the quartz, marveling at its clarity and detail. I was able to see the last Zorophimian vessel. It hovered above members of the water works staff who were running along the top of the seawall.

  The men darted down the public stairs at intervals, opening the great valves by turning the stone control wheels. Soon every last valve was ready to admit the sea, the moment high tide arrived.

  My last image is a haunting one.

  From our height, the Island Kingdom's destruction seemed less evident. Indeed, she sparkled like a gem in the midday sun. The water works officials clambered aboard their ship. It levitated promptly. Below it, breaking waves began to pour through the valves, inundating the streets and undermining the buildings. Slowly, my natal state began to sink.

  Thus perished fair Atlantis!

  I put my nose on Aphrodisia's shoulder and wept.

  On the jeweled marvels of the vast heavenly abyss—"outer space," the Zorophim termed it—I shall not dwell overlong. I find that stylus-cramp has set in.

  Besides, my main purpose in beginning this narrative, as the reader yet awake will recall, was to recount the true facts of the demise of Atlantis. This responsibility I trust I have discharged!

  To sum up, we found voyaging with the Zorophim novel and agreeable. Only one last turn of fate lay in store.

  This was revealed on our fourth night of voyaging.

  A number of us sat at table in the king and queen's quarters, attempt
ing to choke down a standard Zorophim meal consisting of a coarse cereal in a peculiar orange gravy. A remark by His Splendor caught my attention. He was telling Babylos about the centuries of peace on Zorop:

  "—And, in addition, we have one universally honored rule which, in our opinion, contributes significantly to the maintenance of tranquility."

  "What is it?" Conax barked, trying to avoid the playful fondlings of none other than Lady Voluptua.

  To my astonishment, I had discovered her still alive after the holocaust. Evidently when Pytho dispatched her husband, she saw the handwriting on the wall. Thus, after the memorial service, she took up secret residence in the palace laundry, intending to come out only when she deemed it safe.

  Now, the ex-queen seemed quite content, simply sitting next to Conax, whose thews her fingertips teased incessantly.

  In response to the Chimerical one's brusque query, His Splendor said:

  "The universal rule is this. Each citizen must have one, if not more, mates, preferably of the opposite sex. There are no exceptions."

  I need not tell you what reaction that produced!

  Aphrodisia at once began to caress me, and of course she made reference to my most recent promise of marriage.

  "Come, Aphrodisia, unhand me! First of all, I'm not temperamentally suited for marriage, and never have been. Second, our business relationship is dissolved. You have no claim upon me there. Third, my promises were all made under duress. Indeed, I hardly even recall making them!"

  His Splendor ticked a blue digit against the table.

  "There are," he repeated, "no exceptions."

  "Oh, thank you!" cried Aphrodisia. Obviously, I was in for it.

  But there was worse to come!

  "Vintner?" said the king.

  "Yes?"

  "From another of our vessels, we have received a message about you. A fellow citizen inquires after your welfare. A female named Swinnia. She also seems to have some claim on your affections."

  "What, that wicked, obese nymph! How dare she—?"

  Then I recalled certain other promises, likewise made in the heat of a desperate situation. I foresaw a grim reunion on Zorop—Aphrodisia on one hand, insisting she be my wife; Swinnia on the other, demanding to help me regain my manhood!

  His Splendor, I'm sorry to say, found my plight amusing.

  "You should be able to accommodate two mates, Hoptor. You're certainly big enough."

  I could offer no reply. My gloom was only leavened by Lady Voluptua, who declared that she would mate with Conax.

  His thews quivered in dismay, and he made some vague statement about being a free soul. Again, His Splendor said:

  "No exceptions."

  Conax looked utterly miserable. But at least I would not be the only one burdened with a nagging wife!

  As we completed the sad meal. His Splendor took to musing aloud on recent experiences:

  "—We can only remark again that most of the citizens of your little planet turned out to be a quarrelsome, superstitious lot. We have little hope for their progress. To allow them to contaminate our existence on Zorop—no, do not scoff! It might be possible, after many generations. Even given their low mental order, they could conceivably learn to build craft similar to these. Why, they might even attempt to reach our planet! That would of course be highly undesirable. So we have developed a security plan. From time to time, we shall send one or two vessels such as this on secret scouting missions to your world. We shall have them survey—from a safe distance!—the state of the art of interplanetary travel. As a matter of curiosity, it might also be interesting to know whether the Island Kingdom's fate is ever discovered. But all this, we repeat, must be done in strict secrecy, as we wish no further intercourse with your race. Present company again excepted!"

  And so, reader, the narrative of Hoptor closes.

  Bound for a new and unpredictable home, my future at the mercy of a few miserable grapevines, and faced with a double helping of domestic travail, I almost wished myself back in Atlantis—under water!

  I tried to imagine the reaction of future generations, upon seeing mysterious flashes in the sky—glowing discs whizzing every which way at remarkable speeds. Those luckless watchers would never know the true facts, unless one who was privy to them duly reported.

  Thus, I end with an instruction.

  Should the chronicle of Hoptor somehow survive—though given my present circumstances, I can't fathom how!—and should phantasmal lights appear in the heavens, do not be unduly alarmed.

  The lights are merely the Zorophim, watching.

  Should any question the origins of this statement, feel free to mention my name.

  Created with Writer2ePub

  by Luca Calcinai