“You told me something about The Desert Brothers.”
“No links between them. That one was a military society, having their young’s rite of passage in the deep desert, not a band of nobodies. And they are gone.” Talian’s words lost the rhythm at the end, some hidden memories resurfaced in his mind. I heard later that his father was killed, by an arrow, in the final assault.
“What could bring them so far to the south?” I received no answer. No one wanted to pronounce the Deceneus word. It was more than a coincidence, two independent merging strings: the binoculars and the Brothers’ search; both linked, by unknown reasons, to the same name. And their unnatural will to die for an unknown man. They want him ... I remembered. Who pushed you to this? Why am I here when you are here? “You wander often in the desert.” I broke the silence.
“Once a year.”
“Books.”Spill more, Talian, my knowledge is outdated.
“Old books, yes it’s one of the reasons.” He stopped as if unsure of saying more. “Do you know the Great Library of Sarmis?”
I searched inside; yes, the information was there. Any link with Sarmisegetusa? I pondered. I have to ask Houston to take me into the old Dacian capital once this is finished. “We have knowledge of it.”
“It was buried a long time ago. Do you know the place?” His eyes went wide, enlarged in bad dissimulated expectation. Ency marked the place with a red spot in reaction to my inner quest – it was not so far. I opened my mouth to tell them where to look.
“I don’t know.” In the last moment, I decided that the Great Library would be the second ticket to Dava.
Aldira was the first watcher, with my turn being in the morning. I went to my ‘bed’, a round flat boulder for a pillow and some dry leaves for a mattress, such a good one when tired, while Talian either could not sleep or wanted to chat, so he joined her. By a curious turn, the fight did not haunt my thoughts. Later, in time, I figured out an explanation for this: I did not see the dead bodies, some of them fell in the small precipice parallel with the high road, others were taken by the surviving marauders. It is always harder to observe death from proximity, to stare at wounds, to feel the smell of blood – the sticky smell of blood. It impregnates your mind, binds to you for many days after, or years, haunting you during the nights. It is easier to use weapons which kill at a distance. This understanding came slowly and painfully, in bits of knowledge, learned the hard way. Unless you are psychologically impaired, death is not easy to cope with. Arrows, bullets, bombs can do the job with no remorse. Sending troops from an office is even easier, and many office ‘warriors’ never see a dying man, yet they cause many more deaths than the real warriors do.
After so many nights of loneliness, and sleep with eyes open, being able to rest without fearing the wild was a comfort. Fighting together builds trust, and even with the business of the books still lingering in my mind, the night was peaceful. Peace of mind. What a good feeling. While falling asleep a short phrase caught my ear, thanks to the enhanced hearing senses provided by Houston, and killed my somnolence. Why did she not enhance my eyes too? For the binoculars? To force me to use them? Is there any link with this Deceneus story? Listen!
“What do you think?”
“About what?” Talian’s voice was morose.
“They were looking for Deceneus.” She paused for a second, choosing her words. “Armin, the Erin, feared the new Lines of Time; a nexus is forming, and he is not able to penetrate it. You were there too, when he voiced his worries. Is the legend to start again?”
“Legends are only old stories.”
“Those Desert Brothers freaks are alive and asking for a legend; the nexus is upon us; the Erins are afraid. We should worry too. Are we in an old story now?” He did not answer. “Could it be that Deceneus is a good match for her?” With a sigh, Aldira changed her tune.
“Stop with this Deceneus thing! He has only an old tool for seeing far. There is nothing to suggest that he really is Deceneus.” He swiftly mastered his temper and tone after a glance in my direction. The sight convinced him that I was asleep and he continued more guardedly: “For the princess? You mean?”
“Yes. The old Deceneus married a Baragan princess too.”
“He was Baragan, and they both went to the Other Side of the Mirror … never mind.”
“What if the passage is opened again?”
“To the other side? Deceneus never told us how to do it. He closed the passage after the Draco people were defeated by those Legion people. Many Draco people settled here with him. You already know this. Anyway, there are no Munti in their region and his mind … is too different, far away from ours.” Legion people … Romans? Listen!
“And? Look at him! He is warrior and a mix, for sure; his blood should be active for three generations. They can have local sources of blood enhancement and different mind patterns. What do we know about our brethren in the southeast? Nothing, we lost contact with them centuries ago.”
“Maybe.” He was thoughtful, but in a sudden need for calming, took a moment to stir the fire with a long branch before throwing another log on it. A brief sigh brought him some relief. “Anyway, she will go after that young idiot, strong warrior that he is. It has already been decided by the Magister and the King. None of us is happy about this as it will strengthen Garon’s hand but there is no alternative. The blood of the House of Baragan is diminishing. We need fresh Munti blood if the house is to survive.” The flames rose higher and for a moment I was afraid he would see my open eyes reflecting the blaze. He ignored me absorbed by the discussion. Moroseness was deepening on his face. “We have three generations to plan things, after the marriage.”
“That is not an answer. We should consider him too.”
“I cannot give answers based only on your intuition. Maybe he is the answer, in a way that we cannot understand yet. Maybe. Anyway, it’s too late, nobody wants to challenge Garon on this; the Kingdom will plunge into civil war if the marriage is cancelled.” Aldira stood up, and walked silently around the fire. “Look Aldira, I trust the abilities you inherited from your Erin ancestor. You feel something in the timelines; that’s enough for me to think of alternatives, and I agree that weird things happened here today. Let him be an … alternative, if things go wrong with the young Scharon – if he will come to Dava.”
“He will come.” I could not sense the slightest doubt in her voice. She KNOWS. Houston, you bitch! What happens here? This woman is dangerous.
“Their library … something to think about,” Talian changed the talk. “Libraries require resources not usually found in small fishermen communities.”
“A large surviving Baragan group in the south will change many things.”
“They are scouting for other Baragan communities, a desperate move or confident behavior. We need more information. He is cautious, and the difference between our mind patterns will keep some distance.” Talian stopped short of proposing an expedition.
“The library spells a large community; he sells us a small one, trying to protect his people. I would do the same … enlarging the numbers, projecting some power to keep unwanted visitors away.”
“It’s a long way off; a small group would not attract our attention while a large one would make it worth sending an expedition there. The Magister will raise the issue in the council. For Garon will be just a formality.”
“I like The Magister as much I like Garon, but they are efficient. Smaller or larger, that community will bring a new pool of genes. We need them; we rely too much on Munti for help, only to be ignored most of the time. Maybe it is our fault. We should tell them the truth about our genetic issues. We need help.” She moved near the fire, her face still and hard looking into the flames.
“A weakness we cannot afford now, not after Garon settled in Dava. I heard that Travelers pressured Siena to let him go, but there is not much love left for us, in her.”
“Without the Baramunti, The Desert Brothers would still pillage Dava. Stran
gers do help sometimes.”
“I know what you mean,” he gestured toward me, “but Garon’s raise to Chancellor has split our society. There is a new danger now in Dava.” Garon … chancellor? I asked Ency. I made a note. Very helpful.
“That’s from Scorylo. You put too much trust in him.”
“Scorylo has the eyes of a falcon and bat ears. Strangers can help, but they can spy too.” He attached the ‘spy’ to me with a gesture. “You are sure of his coming with us to Dava.” Scorylo? I asked again. I made a note.
“Not with us, later. There is determination in him, danger comes with him, but he is not coming for spying. We have to talk with Armin.” Aldira stopped and I fell asleep. Talian was so absorbed by his thoughts that he took over my watch.
The breath of men and horses mingled under a rising sun, in the cold morning. There were questions yet unasked, details floating around and too many answers yet ungiven. A frosty morning is good for burning minds, they say. I doubted it, everything shouting about a secret society functioning alongside the Library of Dava or the library itself being organized in such way or being a smokescreen for this, and my mind was nowhere close to being cooled. ‘The Magister decided with the King.’ What power can a servant have to decide such a sensitive matter? And Houston had never mentioned it. Their knowledge about the need to enhance the Baragan blood lineage was worrying. That was supposed to be a hidden experiment, and anyway the Munti had rejected the task, even when they had no idea about it. So maybe that is why the secret society had been put in place, to repair the damage. Then who had passed on the information? Who organized them? What could they have meant by the ‘mind patterns’ and the ability to read them? And ‘feeling’ people coming. And mind-rangers. The Erins, and that woman. Weird things, giving them an advantage I could not quantify, never mentioned in my training.
The road to Dava
'Not with us, later,' I remembered. Yes, later... Just coincidence? The next contact point with Houston was close. “I need a vacation.” I did not bother to explain why; she would have had the reason extracted from my mind even before speaking. While now and then this helps avoiding some embarrassment, most of the time it is only a reminder of the differences between us – always to her advantage. Even with the broken leg haunting me I still suspected that she was overstating the threat, a little, and this long haul was another tuning of my new Baragan consciousness. I have at least the comfort that she cannot guess my next move, digging only into my memories, thoughts formed and stored before conversations, not trying to spy on my thinking process anymore, or at least this was her new version of the facts. Overall, she is not that bad. I blushed; again, that bloody inferiority taking its toll, then it passed – I was home.
“Too many ‘Deceneus’, in this story. Those marauders were searching for someone named Deceneus. Your binoculars point to someone named Deceneus. Another one was flipping between our planets in the past. I have the binoculars and I am flipping...”
She gestured an ‘I don’t know’ sign. You let me know your incertitude. Why? For an outsider, her calculated show could be, at worst, unusual, for me... The pawn in the game has no control, understandable; a blind Gate is dangerous … for the pawn. She was blind, and let me see her blindness. At least she was fair. Should I postpone my return? “The only reasonable name for this is coincidence,” she finally spoke.
“And the unreasonable?”
“The name will find a way to you and someone, from a future we are not yet able to determine, is passing information to them.”
“It was more like a bounty.” My reasoning was the result of both cold mental calculation and fear, I was not yet sure, if the Deceneus they were looking for was my precious person. “’They want Deceneus,’ that savage told us.” The fear pushed me further, trying to fill the gap in my knowledge.
“You should have asked who ‘they’ are.”
“Yes, I should.” I don’t need you to remind me. This is your mission too. Try to help. “Are the Factions there involved in this?”
“Hard to say; someone or something from the future wants to change the past of this Deceneus.”
“Killing him.”
“Killing him or taking him prisoner.” Easy for you to talk about other people’s death. Prisoner … death. Prisoner … is that any better? “There is a factor of uncertainty in their actions; they did not risk sending a Traveler. Marauders are cheap, but their efficiency is poor. Sometimes the lines of the past are as murky as the future is.” Their murky digging into the past could be my muddy future. Maybe we should not interfere in the past. “They don’t know … we don’t know ... who this Deceneus really is. No Faction is aware that you returned there, not even your Faction.” Now that was news. What the hell do you mean? “I wanted no more risks, Faction Two knew about your first landing. Let me finish,” she stopped me. That’s treason! I wanted to shout. Who informed them? You? Why did you send me back? The fork I used stopped halfway between the plate and my mouth, then my hand fell; the sauce spread on me and embarrassment suppressed my fear. She did not smile. What do you gain from this? “Only I know that you returned, and the recording of this event is sealed in The Field. I have no reason to link you to that Deceneus, not yet.” Not yet…
“You can ask the complete you.”
“I can,” she shrugged. And? I gestured while cleaning my shirt; physical gestures always help a wobbling mind. “I already know the answer.” I stopped the cleaning and frowned with expectation. “You are trained to solve issues; this is what she will answer.”
“Your own medicine.”
“So it seems.” Short equivocal answer equals no more details, at least for now. The Gate was as puzzled as me.
*
My home on Earth. The thought touched nothing inside me. More like a good hotel: a hot shower and a soft bed. And food. Good food. My soft bed gave me only hard dreams. I was killed twice that night, and I escaped another killing attempt, clutching my pillow like a shield. More dreams than in two wild months.
“A gap in Houston’s knowledge: nobody is perfect, something you have to sort out with her. I cannot help,” Batranu answered – a perfect bland voice carrying nothing – following my words about a faraway planet, in a past only guessed at. Indifferent voice, runaway eyes… You feel something, I almost smiled.
“Look here,” I said pushing up my sleeve, “this is from when the old chief saved my life. One scar, only one; a pact across time with a man from a far away planet with whom I have a blood bond, one of hundreds, my body was a tattooed story of past wounds. All gone now, except this. I asked for it to stay. Sometimes, you can’t face things alone.” People die faster when alone; I am sure you know it. “Why are you keeping the appearance of an old man? Houston has enough skills to make you young again.” You are old pals… His posture changed slightly, as though he was guessing what was in my mind. Was I surprised? I was, but I hoped for it.
“It suits me; an old horse should not look like a foal.”
Squeezing a small red fluffy exercise ball helped to keep my nervousness at bay. Calm down. Use the ball, test him. I threw the ball, with no warning. The old hand moved fast, and boned fingers caught the ball with ease. “What is hiding under the old-man skin?” His eyes measured me, then went away, leaving with me their old intensity, filled with memories of many things.
“A young man,” he finally said – the same neutral inflection in his voice.
“I need help on that planet. Would you consider coming with me?”
“It’s not for me to make the call.” That moment Houston joined us at the table. Your call, old man? Are you afraid?
“Our hero is scared by some bad dreams.” You are not here for my dreams; you have a plan. I hope it matches mine. “And wants to kill me for giving him outdated info.” This could have worked some time ago, Houston. I put a veiled amused smile on my lips; she ignored it. “Yes, the information is not great. I have limited access inside The Field there, and for new data I
am relying on the Faction hiring me, and you, and some other minor resources.”
“Treason again?” You passed too easily over this.
“I would not say that … yet.” Your ‘yets’ are killing me. “Another of my aspects is dealing with them. All players keep some cards closer than others, nothing unusual. They tell us what they want us to know, what they deem necessary to advance their schemes, no more, no less. We do the same.” We? You tell me even less. “You cry for help.” Batranu left his chair going to the window. You expected an ally, old man, sorry, this is my game. Houston’s game. Hers, mine ... yours, I smiled inside. “What scared you so much?” I did not take the bait.
“You had access to my mind while I was coming back.”
“I have access to brute facts and memories. I want a detailed analysis about the situation on the ground, your analysis. Yes, the library is a potential troublemaker. Yes, they have knowledge that should not be in their possession, but apart from this, I do not see any unusual danger. So?”
“I can be attacked again...”
“You are trained for this; you are a much better fighter than wandering ... how did you say? Yes … human scavengers.” You are trained for this ... you are trained for this... There is no training to cover everything that can happen on this bloody mission.
“What do you know about danger? Or about fear? Have you ever heard an arrow hiss hunting you? It starts so softly, like the breath of a child, then it grows. If you hear it fading away, you escaped. If…” I turned away from her and went to the window. Batranu made place for me, going back into his chair. I wish we could change place there too, old man. No, I don’t. “It’s about gathering real-time information, not drops from old unreliable sources, about concentrating attention and efforts in too many places, about having a real chance to succeed. Do you want a successful mission or only to grill me about failures?”
Io Deceneus: Journal of a Time Traveler (The Living Universe) Page 11