by Roman Blair
The screen turned black once more and the stone wall before us slid aside to allow us entry. The chamber within was a large cube, unfurnished but ornamented. Our hosts stepped inside and we hesitantly followed. The wall slid shut behind us with a grind and Sarmia pressed one of the many pictograms lining the interior. I felt the instant sensation of movement and I realized that the chamber was no secret passage but a lift, elevating us to a higher floor within the tower.
The door slid aside moments later to reveal another hall. We entered a room, perhaps several stories above our apartment. It was not as large but the opulence within was once again unmatched. Layers of plush carpets lined the floor in an assortment of rich purples and reds. Three long couches formed a crescent on one side of the room. King Eireas took a seat at the crescent’s tip and motioned us to join him.
Sarmia walked over to the gray stone wall across from us and pressed her palm to it. The stone transformed from a flat surface to a crisp image of the silver tower in which we sat. It was clearly a photograph, for all the traces of art were absent, though it was so vivid and detailed that I could not understand how it was taken.
“Please do not be alarmed,” Eireas implored in his pleasant tone. “When I said you can no longer return to your world, it was not a command, but a fact.”
I translated our hosts’ words as they spoke.
“The storm which brought you here is a natural phenomenon,” he continued. “It was neither malicious nor directed at you, but something you were caught in by sheer accident. By now, you must have realized the squall was atypical?”
I confirmed with a nod.
“We cannot fully explain why these storms happen, but we know they are related to energy coming from the sun. Several sites around the globe are prone to its effect, but the events are so rare that we can never study them in detail.” The King nodded to his advisor.
Sarmia glided her finger along the wall and a series of letters appeared beside the image of the tower. She began pressing them like the keys of a typewriter, though her strokes were void of any sound. The image of the tower transformed and we were treated to a bird’s-eye view of the forested capital. Goosebumps erupted all over my arms.
“How are they doing this?” Rémy asked and I inquired about an explanation.
“Do you have machines which can capture visions of life?” Eireas asked.
“We do. We call them cameras.”
“Good,” he sounded relieved. “And what do you call these images?"
"Photographs," I said.
Eireas nodded. "Think of this as many photographs taken quickly together. We can watch them so rapidly that they appear to move.”
We were familiar with the concept, of course, but it was an altogether different experience to see it mastered before us. And I had difficulty imagining a camera which could glide so smoothly through the air.
The wall image shifted over to one of the nearby hills and, emerging over it, was our carriage from earlier that morning. The detail was so crisp that I could even distinguish our bodies seated within. We had been captured into a moving picture as we approached the silver tower. Our hosts let us watch the miracle for several minutes before continuing their discourse.
“Our people were overjoyed to learn of your arrival,” King Eireas explained. “We were monitoring you ever since your ship entered our sea. The event is so rare that it was a cause for celebration.”
“How did you know about us?” I asked.
Sarmia entered some more commands and the carriage in the image began to move backward, snaking along the red cobblestone path. Her manipulation of the moving picture was extraordinary, and the camera which captured us from above followed us all the way back to the great temple. I tried to remember seeing a balloon overhead, but the distinctly clear sky would have made it fairly obvious. How it was captured was a mystery. The image began to play forward from dawn at the great temple. I spotted our auburn tents on the lawn.
“We knew the storm was coming, but we did not know it would leave you behind,” Sarmia explained. “We found your ship when we investigated the area afterwards. It may surprise you, but we boarded your vessel while it was adrift in the sea and towed it to our shores.
“Why did you not wake us?” I inquired.
“We did not want to frighten you,” Eireas replied, “though we did provide you with medical care. When we determined you were all in stable condition, we thought it best to allow you to discover us on your own.”
I nodded. I may have done the same in their situation.
“So those creatures I saw in the night. Those were your people?” I asked.
“Yes,” the King divulged. “The storm affects our machines and we could not monitor you from a distance until the sun energy I spoke of weakened. Arrivals on our sphere have not always been friendly and we needed to ensure that you would not pose a threat to us.”
“So you took our weapons,” I deduced.
Eireas nodded. “Safety needed to be our main priority.”
"But what I saw did not look like people," I said. "I thought they were gorillas of some sort."
"Those were the uniforms of our observation team. They are padded and their large helmets allow them to see through the darkness."
I sighed, suddenly understanding the great burden which befell our hosts at the start of the conversation. Every answer led to even more questions. I began the task of explaining everything to my companions. They sat stoically as they processed the news.
“Clearly these people have technology well beyond our own. If they meant us any harm, I believe we would have already seen it,” I concluded.
“So where exactly are we?” Ella asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “They may not even know, if they don't have regular contact with the outside."
“But the King did say there were others who have landed here,” Rémy pointed out. "How long ago was that?”
I passed the question.
"Yes, there have been," Eireas nodded. “As I said, these storms are rare. The last time one occurred was almost seventy years ago. But we have historical data spanning nearly a thousand years during which eleven other vessels were transported by them. Twice before in the area you were in.”
“What about the last event? Were there arrivals?” I asked.
“There were,” the King confirmed. “Three survived.”
“What happened to them?”
“They adjusted to life on our world,” Eireas informed me. “Though I am sad to say that none are still living.”
“Are you able to show us your island?” I asked.
The King nodded and Sarmia began to press more letters on the wall. The picture of the lawn beside the temple began to recede as the camera appeared to move farther up into the sky. We spotted the Bigorneau off the coast and then it, too, became a mere spot on the screen. The coastline became a rocky golden outline against the deep blue water, permeated by patches of green vegetation. The movement was unpleasant, like looking down from the top of a carnival wheel. My stomach felt queasy as I watched the camera rise to impossible heights.
The picture’s motion did not cease until the island of Capribo was outlined in full. Its shape was unique, with distinctive peninsulas extending in many directions. I spotted several low mountain chains and patches of lush forest. Examining the finer details brought a sense of familiarity to me, like an intuition that I could not pinpoint. I walked up to the image and studied the coastline in greater detail.
I gasped.
“What is it?” Ella asked, joining me before the wall screen.
“I know exactly where we are.”
CHAPTER NINE
D arkness. Overwhelming darkness. No candles, no moonlight, not even the distant glow of stars overhead. Yet I was not panicked. Quite the opposite, I felt a sense of calm and comfort. Where am I?
I propped myself up on an elbow. I was in a bed, very comfortable by the feel of it. It was soft and warm, but unf
amiliar. I stood up, my feet making contact with the cool stone floor. My hands reached out into the emptiness before me. I stretched to the right. Nothing. Then to the left. A cold wall. No, not a wall. It was glass. A window!
And then the details resurfaced. It was the glass wall in the bedroom of the palace apartment. I remembered now. We were led back to our chamber by Sarmia after our discussion, during which the details of our predicament had been exposed.
I remember she showed us how to use the window. I stretched my hand to the wall beside the smooth curvature of glass and gently pressed my finger to it, gliding up. The tint of the glass decreased as my finger rose higher. Light began to fill the little room. I could see the electric power of the city outside. It was still night, but the glow of lights created a halo above the cluster of buildings.
Rémy slept soundly in the other bed. I picked up my pocket watch from the wooden dresser and looked at the face. Four o’clock in the morning. I must have slept for less than two hours, for we returned to our apartments rather late. Ella, Rémy, and I had countless questions for our hosts, which they courteously answered to the best of their abilities. Or should I say our abilities. Never before had I felt like a simpleton being exposed to the intricacies of civilization for the very first time.
I silently stepped out to the lounge. I tried to remember where Sarmia had demonstrated the use of the overhead light. Once again, I placed my finger to the wall and slid it up. The large rose which was carved into the ceiling began to illuminate from within. The light revealed a pile of luggage and an assortment of other materials throughout the room. My own brown trunks stood among them and I realized they were items from the Bigorneau. The Capribians must have conveyed them from the ship shortly after our departure. I opened my crates and spotted clean clothing within. I grabbed fresh attire and proceeded to the bathing room, for I knew I would sleep no more that night.
There is a purity that comes with putting on an unsoiled garment which has the ability to lift one’s spirit. I walked back into the lounge and excitedly rummaged through my belongings until I found my leather-bound journals. They were chock-full of field notes, but I skimmed through the pile and spotted a tome with unfilled pages. My fountain pen lay nestled beside it. I was nearly giddy as I increased the illumination within the room and took a seat at the dining table.
It was then that I began the writing of these exploits. Though I must admit that I am not entirely certain why I began this text at all. Perhaps there was a part of me which did not believe the tale that King Eireas and Etia Sarmia presented to us that night, despite the overwhelming evidence to support it. Perhaps I simply wished to preserve a piece of myself within this new world. Whatever the motivation, the journal offered me respite during the days that followed.
I had just finished recounting the details of the great temple when I heard the call of the morning horn. My companions began to stir. I put the writing utensils back into my trunk and took a seat on the couch overlooking the city below. The sun had fully risen above the horizon before Lady Pearson made her way out from the bedrooms.
“Good morning,” I greeted her, rising from my seat.
“Good morning, Mr. Laurence. What’s all this?”
“Our items from the ship,” I informed her. “It seems they were brought in during the night.”
“Oh what a relief!” she sighed.
She approached the pile and spent some time rummaging through the trunks. She was unusually thorough and delicate, handling some of her possessions as if afraid to displace them. I saw her repeatedly glance in my direction out of the corner of my eye, though she remained silent. After some time, she finally selected two dresses from within.
“By the way,” she added distantly from the doorway before returning to the bedroom, “what time did you and Ella return last night? I don’t recall her even coming in.”
“Our conversation with the King lasted long into the night,” I responded.
“And did you have any luck?”
“We certainly received a lot of information,” I disclosed, “though I think it may be best to discuss it as a group.”
She looked upon me for a few seconds and nodded before closing the door. The others likewise awoke and searched through the trunks before bathing. Two attendants came to the door and I allowed them entry. They delivered an assortment of food and placed it on the dining table.
“Amthel,” I stated. Thank you. My first Capribian word, which I recalled from the previous night. The first of many, I realized.
My companions and I took our seats for breakfast. The fare was most welcome, for my stomach had long been rumbling. I eagerly stuffed myself with light fluffy pastries and fruit. Three elegant metal pitchers stood at the center of the table, respectively filled with water, some kind of fruit juice, and coffee. I was delighted to find the latter, though the preparation was unlike the robust brews served in our cafés. No milk or sugar was provided, but the roast was light enough to be thoroughly enjoyed black.
“Well I for one can’t wait a moment longer,” Lady Pearson piped. “I simply must know what transpired last night.”
“Agreed,” Travert added between bites.
Father Daniel was unusually silent.
I looked to Ella and Rémy. How would we ever begin recounting the events of such a night?
“For starters,” I began, “you can rest assured that we will receive nothing but the finest treatment. So long as we do not break any laws or cause any trouble, we are welcome to do as we please.”
“Even leave?” Travert queried.
“Yes, uncle,” Rémy confirmed, “but it’s not that simple.”
“What do you mean?” Daniel finally spoke up.
Rather than attempt an answer, I followed our hosts’ example and stepped up to the apartment wall. I pressed my palm against it and watched the same look of befuddlement that I must have exhibited a few hours prior. Just as in the lounge upstairs, the tan stone transformed into a crisp photograph of the Tower of Marble, for we also learned the name of the structure in which we sat.
Ella, Rémy, and I were assaulted by questions, most of them the very same inquiries which we had for our hosts. We did our best to explain the sun storms and I tried to duplicate the motion picture of our carriage approaching the tower as Sarmia had shown me to do. Lady Pearson, Travert, and Daniel watched amazed as we revealed the Capribian technology.
“And then I asked if we could see the island,” I informed them.
“What did they say?” Travert asked.
“They showed us. Like this.” I pressed the pictogram which began the rise up from the images on the wall-screen. Once again, the land receded farther away until the entire island was visible. I saw Travert’s eyes widen at the sight. I met his baffled gaze as he tried to make sense of the landmass before him.
“Chypre,” he breathed.
“I beg your pardon?” Lady Pearson spoke up.
“It is the island of Cyprus,” I informed them. “We have not been exploring some long-lost world in the middle of the sea, but have in fact been traversing well-known territory this entire time.”
“But… how?” Daniel asked.
“That part is a little more difficult to explain,” Rémy began.
“Well try, for heaven’s sake!” Travert bellowed.
“The King informed us that the storm formed a bridge between two nearly identical worlds,” Ella explained calmly. “This globe is a duplicate of our own, but neither in the past nor the future. We are still in the same place at the same time, but on a different Earth.”
“Oh what devilry!” Daniel barked. “These people will say anything to keep us here.”
“I thought the same, Father,” I stated, retaking my seat at the table. “However, I have no other way to explain all that has come to pass since our departure from Alexandria.”
“And let me guess,” Daniel continued, “there is no way of reopening this bridge of worlds?”
“There i
s,” I informed him. “The sun storms. Unfortunately, they are very infrequent. The King told us that, on average, they occur only once in a lifetime.”
Daniel huffed. “I think we should ask for repairs to your vessel, Captain, so that we may see this ‘other world’ for ourselves. This little show is not enough to pull the wool over my eyes.”
Travert nodded. “I heartily agree. If we are free to do as we please, then the request should be a simple one. We will leave these people to their own beliefs and devices.”
“Then it’s decided,” Lady Pearson confirmed. “We will repair the ship and leave.”
It was pointless to argue, and part of me agreed with the elders. Whatever the Capribian technology displayed, there was no equal to seeing it for ourselves.
Etia Sarmia came to visit us at the conclusion of breakfast. Given Daniel’s outburst the night before, I thought it best that our request should come from me. I pleaded for assistance.
“There is no need to explain,” she assured me. “I understand how you must feel. I would ask the same in your situation. We will repair your ship.”
“I thank you, Etia,” I said.
“Please, call me Sarmia,” she requested with a smile. Her white teeth sparkled in the light. “It may take us a few days to make the necessary repairs. In the meantime, I would very much like to teach you more about our world, if you have the desire. “
“What an extraordinary offer!” I burst. “I do, very much!”
“Be wary, Mr. Laurence,” Daniel warned as he got up from the dining table.
“I’m a historian, Father,” I retorted, “It’s in my nature to seek out this kind of information. And an offer to teach me more about Capribo is hardly cause for concern.”
“Is that what she offered?” Rémy perked up. “Perhaps I can join as well?”
“The language barrier may be difficult, but of course I’d be happy for you to join,” I answered enthusiastically.