Io Deceneus: Journal of a Time Traveler (The Living Universe)

by Florian Armas

  “Maug is a kind and reliable man.” She sighed before continuing. “We lost several soldiers on this unfortunate journey, including our Second Marshal. He was also a Baramunti but they are as different as the two sides of the same coin.” Different? Not reliable? Why are you telling…? I could not extract more from her voice, and, afraid of pushing too much, I made a mark to check later.

  A branch trembled in the shadow of the forest edge, like a reticent ghost. By luck, I caught sight of it out of the corner of my right eye, only to ignore it; the danger was supposed to come from behind. Fast and silent, four silhouettes erupted from the forest. “Run to the ridge Altamira!” I shouted, to alert the group. “Climb the rocks.” The Munti split, and two of them challenged me with their long swords. I stepped aside, to face them one by one, and they fell into my trap. They are untrained, an easy prey... I avoided the first one’s sword with a lateral short move while cutting his torso with a cross diagonal; he fell in silence. The next one made the same mistake. They are untrained, an easy prey... my mind closed inside as if not really aware, a distant spectator. ‘Killing is bad, but killing evil out of necessity is allowed if it preserves life.’ Thank you, master. The scene was frantic, with people running in all directions, Airan, Maug and I to the ridge where Altamira had taken refuge, throwing stones, women to the forest, horses on their own. I closed the distance; one Munti was writhing on the ground with blood on his head. The second was following Altamira, climbing the rocks. She was in an impasse as the wall stopped her. I was about to throw my knife when an arrow hissed from behind and put an end to the fight. The body crashed on the rocks, breaking the shaft with a crack. Airan’s bow was still vibrating in the air, a morbid victory song. With unexpected calmness, I disarmed the last Munti.

  Altamira spoiled our good mood: “A Munti rider turned east when the fight began.” In the following silence, the metallic sound of a sword leaving its sheath came from behind me and I turned, caught by the reflection of the vertical blade. In panic, I reacted with the knife and blocked the blow at the sword’s hilt. It was not meant for me; the Munti captive was down, by my feet, with his tied hands raised in a futile gesture. One of the Baragan soldiers had tried to kill him for some unknown reason, the one who had run, like a coward, into the forest with the women.

  “Next time try to fight a free, armed, man.” He moved away with scornful eyes, and after a few yards, he felt secure enough to whisper some curses.

  We found four horses in the attackers’ hiding-place. The Munti have wonderful horses, tall and strong as their masters are, so I was happy to take the best of them after Airan, probably to gloss over the killing attempt, said that the fate of the prisoner and all enemies captured belonged in my hands.

  “I think I need a new horse, as the one I have now seems happier with Altamira riding him”, I joked, seeing her playing with the horse’s mane, and then offered one to Airan and Maug. Her shy smile made me feel strange. I am sorry young lady, it was not for your beautiful smile. Are you sure? I shook my head to escape her spell; I need to change my horse before meeting Aldira and Talian. Later, I released the prisoner with the last horse. Probably they were not so happy with this, but nobody said anything.

  *

  The world of night was born around, and fires painted trembling shadows in the darkness; wood crackled as it burned and warmed our tired bodies – there was no reason to hide anymore. I sat at one of the three hearths, chatter surrounding me. I was quiet.

  “Two strong enemies killed today. Very few of us can do this,” Airan stirred my thoughts.

  “Killing someone is not something to be proud of, Airan. I value my skills but I prefer to use them sparingly. The Munti are not my enemies. We just happened to be on different sides, today.”

  “We killed three people today and this is not in our nature, nor theirs,” Altamira interjected. “None of the Munti scouts wanted to kill me; they only wanted prisoners or a challenge to a fight. There was no need to take human lives.”

  “Yes, you are right,” he answered, his voice no longer as friendly as before but not angry either, then he let himself become engulfed in silence and the conversation stalled. I should have kept my mouth shut … better to speak with my feet. I glanced at the faces around the fire; Maug seemed to share Altamira's feelings. You must be still a Munti in your heart. Batranu nodded toward me, as I walked away. I wandered around the camp at a distance where, not being able to hear their words, I could not be compelled me to answer.

  “Don't worry; he is not upset at you. It is more that he was caught in the action after the first fight and wanted to prove himself and this is annoying him as, if they come for us, tomorrow will be a bad day.” Not having heard her steps, I made an uncontrolled gesture. “Sorry, I should be more careful. There is too much tension in the air.” So nice was her voice, all that fear went away. ‘At hearing whose voice the King rejoices,’ suddenly came back from another life, very far from here. Come on, you are not a king and she is only a young lady, very young. But she is so beautiful. I have to answer, what is it she said? Airan ... I am not so sure. I saw his wild satisfaction after the arrow brought down the Munti.

  “Everything happened too fast. I am a skilled fighter, but I don't know if I could have acted differently.” Are you sure? No, just alive. “Sometimes you just want to stay alive.”

  I ran again from people, blundering through the trees far from the light, and lay down behind a bush. Can I hide from my thoughts too? From the first time, death was haunting me.

  “What do you think about the southerner?” A whisper and rustling steps helped me to reign over the inner rumbling.

  “Good fighter. Too bad we don’t have more like him to fight with us.”

  “With us? You ran away when the quarrel started.”

  “I had to protect the women.” His tone was angry but defensive. I did not recognize the voice, despite it coming from only feet away, but there was only one coward running, the one trying to kill the unarmed Munti. You’ve said the same thing before.

  “Sure.” In the long moment of uncomfortable quiet, the unseen soldier made a pacifying gesture, his hand visible against the fire. “We have to tell Sumael about this. The southerner can be an ally against those Baramunti occupying the important positions in the Kingdom. Garon lost two of his closest people in the eruption, two scoundrels from the council.”

  “And Sumael will deliver the news to the Magister; he will never let us speak directly with him.”

  “If Sumael goes into the council we will have our cake too.” The whispers faded, covered by the hard steps stirring the dry leaves. I heard more 'Magister' and other disparate words, but no more meaningful information. Magister, Magister, everywhere I go there are mysteries about this man. He is the head of a powerful occult group; he knows about the Baragan genetic issue, he pushes Altamira to marry that young idiot Scharon. I stopped for a moment; the last thought made me uncomfortably sad.

  *

  I took the first watch; I was restless and could not sleep, looking around as little by little the moonlight started to shape the contours of the darkness; the killings were haunting me. Batranu quietly joined me; we were alone, at some distance from the fire, away from the group's indiscreet ears. We could converse freely, but Batranu would never bring up the issue of slaughter.

  “Did you feel the gap between the young siblings?” he suddenly asked, probably as undecided as me if this was good or bad, a preventive assessment of the situation on the ground.

  “Yes, I hope that is not something related to succession. That would be the last thing we need now. Altamira looks young but seems to be more mature than Airan.”

  “Don’t try to imagine a political landscape today; we don’t have enough information.”

  “You are right. Still, if you look, the Baramunti are sleeping separately from the Baragans.”

  “Which can say a lot or nothing at the moment,” Batranu replied. I nodded, knowing that he could not see my gest
ure, more a way of inward communication and self-assurance than a need to be understood by somebody else. The night surrounded us with its infinite silence.

  Batranu woke when I gripped his shoulder like a drowning man; something unknown was humming inside my brain, spreading into my body with each drop of blood going down through the veins. “Chrono-particles, it seems that you’ve got your own enhancements,” he whispered, gently pushing away my hand. I don’t see anything… “My own senses were enhanced too; I now feel more flavors of these particles than before.” I did not answer; for me it was the first bump into the chrono-world. The world of magic. The world of death.

  “Are we breaking the rules with these enhancements?” A continuous trembling altered my voice; the stubborn hum did not want to leave me alone.

  “It is not really hard-technology, our brains are genetically enhanced, from a future they are not able to access.”

  “We are from their future, too.”

  “Then I have no answer for you.” He tried to stop my useless fear. “Last time I sensed only the results of the explosion, I couldn't feel the sphere's presence, the change I told you when meeting the Travelers. This signal is weak.” Weak? I glanced at my shaking hand in the cold moon light, and I had the feeling of seeing a dancing skeleton. I am not death. For how long? “Just a few small chrono-spies. The SAT-mines were destroyed, and they feel different. I mean, the chrono-particles from the explosion are different.”

  “Some of them were destroyed.” I could not add anything about ‘taste’ of the spheres. “She mentioned these unknown entities knowing our route starting from Sarmis.” How do they know? What is she hiding? “The chance of a new attack is higher in the wild. The Field density in populated places makes it difficult to place stealth time devices. I hope Time recorded the last attack and it will not be fooled a second time.”

  “These are sophisticated enemies; don't expect repetitive assault strategies from them.”

  *

  The Munti cavalry appeared when the sun was at its highest point, circling the hill we had used as an improvised fortification, without trying to climb toward our position; it was more an assessment of the battle area. I heard Maug whispering in a bitter voice, “Duras is leading the pack.” There was something about that name; it was listed in Houston’s political brief: the Second Marshal of Munti. Duras … where had I heard this name?

  “What does this mean?” I asked.

  “It means trouble.”

  Where is Airan? The Samurai in me wanted a discussion about our defense. I am trained for this. Yeah, sure, simulations. As good as real training. There is no real blood in simulations. Stop it! I looked around. Where are you hiding? Later will be too late. I went up the hill; he was walking around the camp alone and silent. I observed his face. You are still young for such things. I wonder if you ever fought to the death. Shut up! What is so good in bragging about killing people? Weariness was firmly entrenched in his face, while Maug was wrapped up in his own thoughts or else did not want to discuss things with me. I glanced at Altamira. I can’t help if you won’t talk. She met my eyes and gestured a path to the forest.

  “The law of war is clear,” she said, a thin voice in the silence before the storm. Be calm, I wanted to say. She is not a kid; let her speak. “The Munti will ask for a duel. As life was taken yesterday, it will be a fight to the death if they want it – they have the ‘right of choice’ – and Duras has no real opponent in our army. Only the King or Garon in their prime would have been able to defeat Duras. The only one stronger than him is Borg, but he is the first Munti Marshal as Duras is the second.” Are they a mix? Ency shrugged inside my mind. Why are they so strong?

  “What if we refuse the challenge?” I was surprised to find how much knowledge I was missing about their laws of war, Houston’s complex strategy again.

  “They will attack us. Challenges are a good way of avoiding many casualties.” Good law indeed. If leaders were the only ones to fight, they would be less eager to start wars. How can we get this on Earth too? Don’t be stupid, this will never make it there. It’s easier to say: Bring ‘em on’, than do it.

  A trumpet, blasted from the Munti camp, followed by a lower, second one repeated three times. A rider came close to our position and planted a red flag. “Death for death challenge,” Altamira whispered. “I have to talk with him.” She stopped hearing footsteps. It was Airan.

  “I have to pay for the nonsense yesterday.” His eyes were weary, and his words almost whisper.

  “Don’t lose faith in yourself, no battle is lost or won from the beginning; you are a skilled warrior.” He shook his head nervously at her words, and slowly walked downhill.

  “What does he have to do now?” Curiosity mounted in me.

  “Pick up the flag.”

  “Altamira,” I asked hastily, “can we replace him or is it the law that he must fight?”

  “The law of dueling lets each camp chose its representative.”

  “Can I replace him?” She stared at me for some long seconds.

  “Why would you go to a certain death in his place? We cannot ask you to do this.”

  “I played my part in what was done yesterday and caused today’s challenge. And, as you said, no battle is lost before starting.” I stopped, trying to assess what I had said and why I said it, as it was a spontaneous outburst. Idiot! What will you do now? She stayed silent. I struggled to push back an echo that was running back and forth inside mind: you are without the belt; you are on your own. I know, let me think.

  “Be careful with his jump,” she shouted after me.

  Airan reluctantly – or not so reluctantly – let me pick up the flag. “What’s the jump?” I asked in haste.

  “His most dangerous attack: he will make some maneuvers before jumping suddenly and falling on you with his sword.” It doesn’t make any sense; jumping would only make him vulnerable to my counterattack. Don’t underestimate him. I am better trained. If you are trained, observe and learn more. I would never know whether things were running their course normally or whether I was framed to replace him in the battle. I picked up the flag and went down the hill. The image of the last encounter with a leopard on the Prime planet went with me.

  Nervous teeth squeezed my lips, and I tasted blood. Pain will liberate your mind … bite stronger. “Be careful!” Batranu shouted from distance. Three spheres materialized in from of me, the size of a nut, the same white watery aspect, and humming filled my mind. Not again. I moved back instinctively, about to run. Fight! Speed can’t help you. My mind was sinking. I have to confront them, I have to confront them, I have... Small liquid waves began to dance around me, thin and fast, weaving a loose net to catch the big human fish. Without thinking, I touched the waves. Soft … like silk. How is to die in silk? Does it matter? I pressed the silk; it changed into steel. I am not frozen! Are they too small to paralyze me? Analysis keeps the mind busy and fear at bay. I closed my eyes, feeling their chrono-resonances mingling inside my mind. Now! I hit the sphere. I did not see it; I just felt it. A zap crossed my hand running to the shoulder and stopping in my head. It hurts, I moaned, but I sensed a change in the chrono-net. When I blinked, one of the spheres was gone, and parts of the watery net were evaporating with a hiss. They can be destroyed! We can fight them. I raised my sword again. Shit! Half of my sword was gone. The stump was smoldering, my hands dropped. What now? My joy vanished; my mind vanished, like the smoke rising from my sword. They will kill me. They will erase me from life. I will be never born. I will, no ... what... Dark as the night, two new spheres materialized and crashed into the white ones. Cavalry is coming, thank you Houston. Ha! Black is the color of the good guys. Two bubbles formed from those collisions, the size of a handball, then black trails appeared and the bubbles started to deflate, like a squeezed sponge, with no regular form, until they vanished with a loud bang. I stilled my breathing and crouched, staring away. Duras joined me in silence, and our eyes met. The fight was postponed for the next
day.

  “What was that?” all of them asked.

  “Globular lightning,” I lied, unsure how to explain that entire story about SAT-mines and temporal changes.

  “It was too far from me,” Batranu whispered, when alone in the evening. "Was there any difference between the good and the bad spheres? I sensed only the particles from their annihilation. The same ‘taste’ I felt when the SAT-mine was destroyed.”

  “Yes, but I cannot explain it to you.”

  “One of us knows now, it is good enough. You can use my sword tomorrow,” he changed the subject. “I also went to the Munenori School ... a long time ago.” He was probably smiling in the darkness, and only in that moment did I realize that he also had the local ‘Samurai’ sword. Two swords for him: what does this really mean? Nobody answered my thoughts.

  *

  “You killed two of my soldiers but let the other one leave, even defended him.” Duras’s voice was deep and sharp. I felt no wrath, a good sign.

  “I kill when I am in danger; I only kill when I must.”

  “It is not very often I hear words like this from a Baragan. You are in danger now.”

  “Any fight brings risk upon warriors.” I was not yet sure if this was bragging to impress the adversary or a deeper personality assessment. I have fought better warriors. In simulations, the answer came back. I was wounded. And cured fast. That Samurai took off my hand. Another one grew back. It will not happen again. That was in the beginning. Later... Stop it!

  The blades crossed, metal cried in a sharp tone, shimmering blue in the sun. He is skilled, better trained than the previous two. What do you expect? He is a chieftain. Stop it! His real advantage was his force; at six foot three, he was made of muscle and slightly faster than me. All the mixed people were stronger and faster. Is he a mix too? You already asked this. Now, some of these ‘analyses’ in reality occurred post-factum; at the time adrenaline and fear blocked everything except survival instincts in my mind and a few inner whispers. There were only a series of blows, up, down, left, right, and rhythm changes. I’ve got you! Six series of hits, repeated. Not the same sequences but the same moves. My turn now. My turn... I believed I understood his patterns and I was ready to counterattack when the surprise came – the famous jump I derided before the fight. I reacted involuntarily, lowering my knees, deflecting the blow with my sword and rolling back to absorb the shock. My feet somehow met his thighs; I pushed and threw him over me, so he lost control of his body, as though all of my training had focused on this instant. Almost every muscle of my body cooperated, independently of my will, in the strong thrust. I rose on one knee, put the blade to his neck, made a small mark and stood up. It takes longer to tell than it did to happen. We had a long talk about Baragans and Munti, alone in the middle of the field. I needed the other point of view.