“I don’t think we’re safe here anymore,” Adam replied.
Paula stared at him dumbly.
“Why would you say that?”
Adam glanced at Christine for support but she was just staring up at him with worry.
Adam sighed. “It’s too easy for Galen to attract unwanted attention in a building this size. We need to move to someplace with a little more privacy.”
Tears came to Paula’s eyes and Adam found it strangely fascinating that such a large woman could cry so easily. He looked down at Christine and found that her eyes were also sparkling with moisture.
He sat down on the couch next to her. “Look we don’t have to leave the area…just the building. What we need is a house we can rent, somewhere we can keep to ourselves and steer clear of the neighbors. Of course Paula would still be free to visit anytime,” he added trying to explain. The encounter in the hallway had shaken him badly. They were vulnerable here. Galen was vulnerable here and if there was one thing Adam now realized, it was that he would do all he could to keep Galen safe.
“Who is he?” Paula asked her voice intense. “Who is he really?”
Adam remained tight lipped. In his mind, the more people who knew about Galen’s genetic background the more danger he was in.
“Paula,” Christine began, ignoring the warning look she was getting from her brother. “Adam, she deserves to know everything.”
Adam frowned.
“She’d never do anything to hurt Galen,” Christine continued and Paula puffed up.
“Of course I wouldn’t,” Paula insisted loudly. “Engineered or not, Galen’s the sweetest little boy I’ve ever met and he certainly doesn’t deserve to die…I just want to know who he is. Who’s DNA did you use Christine? I know you couldn’t have engineered the entire genome.”
Christine paused, glanced over at Adam whose head was down, but he didn’t protest again.
“We’re not sure,” Christine began. “Half the DNA came from a fourteenth century man…the Reverend Heyworth procured it for us and paid for a great majority of the sequencing.”
“Heyworth!” Paula said as if she found the very word distasteful. “What’s that slime doing in this? His church has fought against most cutting edge medical research. They’ve been at it for decades. Hell, they fought against stem cell research to the bitter end, bunch of ignorant radicals, if you ask me.”
“Well,” Christine said. “He’s been behind my genetic research for the last five years.”
“Fourteenth century man,” Paula finally said. “What fourteenth century man? Surely not a Pope.”
Christine shook her head. “No…the DNA sample came from the Shroud of Turin.”
Paula’s mouth popped open and remained that way for several seconds. “Jesus Christine, are you crazy?” Paula exclaimed and then stood and paced toward the kitchen but quickly returned. “You need to talk to Uncle John. He can help. People need to know if…if he is…”
Christine shook her head. “No Paula, he’s not…the shroud has been proven to be much younger. Radiocarbon dating puts it around the late thirteenth to mid fourteenth centuries.”
“And science is never wrong,” Paula spat. “Hell Christine, we both know that science is only right until its proven wrong! The Shroud…” she stammered, stunned by the religious implications of her friend’s confession. “Christine…even if you’re right about the age of the Shroud, there are those who will never believe. They’ll think he’s…wait you said half,” Paula finally realized. “Where’d the rest of his DNA come from?”
Christine smiled weakly. “Me,” she replied and Paula’s mouth popped open again.
“The original sample was damaged and incomplete,” Christine rushed to explain. “I just needed to repair certain segments…and my DNA was readily available.”
“Mother Mary…” Paula whispered, trying to comprehend the enormity of the situation.
“We have to move Paula,” Adam finally said. Paula didn’t answer; her gaze remained fixed over their heads and beyond.
Adam and Christine turned in unison. Galen stood at the very edge of the room looking at them all.
“I will stay if Paula will allow it,” he said calmly, completely unlike a child.
“Of…of course,” Paula stammered, suddenly nervous to be in the boy’s presence.
Adam stood and turned. “Galen…” he began.
“I must stay,” Galen said as if the matter was not open for discussion. “They’re coming. They’re coming soon. I’m not strong enough yet for what lies ahead.”
“Galen…” Christine said, moving over to him and for the first time she noticed he was taller, nearly up to her shoulder. “What lies ahead?” She asked tentatively.
Galen looked up at her, his eyes piercing but kind. He smiled softly at her. “This place is thin. I must stay close; I must stay very close,” he repeated and then would say nothing more.
XIII
“Controlling your desires is the key to contentment.”
Vio Valencia
March 7th 3218 Noble Island
Avigail walked slowly across a grassy field. It was night, but she could see remarkably well despite the fact that there was no moon and there were few visible stars in the sky. She moved forward confidently, the nearby area was awash with light, strange light. Avigail crossed a flat open space and then moved up a hill. On the hill stood a great rectangular building; it was white…no tan, with a rust colored tiled roof. The hill was large and the building was still far away, but Avigail knew it was vitally important that she get to the building…and soon.
She started to run, faster and faster she went until she was sprinting all out, but still the building remained distant and unreachable. Avigail began to cry. Try as she might she could not run any faster. She was very close to giving up; when suddenly she passed through a giant archway and stepped onto a floor so smooth it didn’t seem real. She’d made it. She was here, but as she looked around she saw that the building was completely empty. No furniture, no walls, no rugs or people, just a flat open building with massive archways encircling the perimeter, and high above, blazing with strange light, was the ceiling, perfectly smooth, mirroring the floor below.
Avigail’s heart fell.
“Avi,” a voice whispered from behind. She spun and Galen was there. Her breath caught in her throat, for he was the most beautiful person ever created. He was tall, over a head taller than she was, but only a few years older. His face was smooth with no trace of whiskers and his skin was a deep golden tan. His short black hair was moving gently in the night breezes. He smiled at her and Avigail’s heart skipped a beat. She stared up into his large dark eyes and tried to smile back.
“G…Galen,” she answered, staring up into his face. His eyelashes were impossibly long, impossibly beautiful.
He moved closer to her, so close she could feel the heat from his body, though they were not actually touching.
He stood looking down at her for a moment and then whispered. “I need you Avi. Come to me. Come to me Avi..”
Avigail swallowed and found it very hard to breath. “I will,” she promised.
Galen swiveled and looked behind him, as if he’d heard some noise she could not. When he turned back Avigail saw what she took to be a flicker of fear in his eyes.
“You must hurry Avi,” Galen implored her and then suddenly reached out and took both of her hands in his. His hands were incredibly warm and inviting. “They are coming for me Avi. They will kill me if they can.”
“Kill you?” Avigail asked as Galen looked around once again. He nodded. “Kill me.”
Suddenly there was a crack; it sounded loud in the still of the night, like a large tree branch breaking in a storm. Avigail looked toward the sound and briefly saw a small point of light, then Galen’s head exploded all over her and she was covered in bone, blood and brains. Avigail screamed in shock and despair as his body began to fall, his hands still clutching hers and pulling her down with him.
&
nbsp; Avigail screamed and screamed.
“Avi! Avi! Wake up!” Arnot yelled sitting on the edge of the small bed and shaking his sister by the shoulders. She continued to scream for another few seconds then suddenly her eyes were open, looking up at him with horror; tears streamed down her cheeks steadily until she finally came fully awake.
“It was a dream Avi,” Arnot said, trying to comfort her, but Avi just shook her head.
“No…I was with him Arnot,” she insisted, sitting up slowly. The vision was still vivid in her mind and showed no sign of dissipating. “I was with Galen…and they killed him. His head fell apart and landed all over me…Arnot; they are going to kill him,” she cried and then shivered.
“Avi it was a dream.”
Again Avi shook her head. “I need to go to him Arnot,” she maintained with a wild, unfamiliar look in her eyes. “I need to go to him. You’re to help me, you know that.”
“Avi…” Arnot answered but then her eyes found him, they were hard and unyielding.
“You will help me Arnot,” she stated flatly.
Arnot wanted to refuse her but in the end he just nodded. “I promised Galen I would…but Avi the Competitions.”
“The Competitions last just two weeks,” Avi answered coldly, brooking no argument, “and when they’re over we return to the King’s Island together.
Arnot was very happy and very sad all at the same moment. He was happy for the Competitions, but his sister’s actions were a worry. He would have been much more concerned if he didn’t believe that what she asked was impossible. The two of them alone could not possibly open a bridge to some unknown and far off world. Only two people in all of history managed such a thing, Galen…and then Tar Nev. They were old and powerful; masters in their own right, and Arnot did not delude himself into thinking that either he or Avi was a match for the two men of legend. They were safe; he knew that. He just hoped the trip to the Far Lands had not driven his sister mad.
“Alright Avi,” he answered. “We’ll go home after the Competitions,” he agreed and suddenly was very sleepy. It was still early in the night. Arnot moved back to his own bunk and was sleeping within moments, but Avi stayed awake for hours, staring blankly at the dark ceiling of the tent.
†
Over the seventeen years of Gwaynn Massi’s rule, the Competitions had changed and grown wildly more popular. Herra, the largest city on Noble, was forced to grow and adapt with the changes in an attempt to accommodate the extremely large crowds that now flocked to the island. For as far back as anyone could remember, the Competitions were opened only to the students from Noble, now each major Family could enter their own young champions to compete in the preliminary rounds. The champion could either compete in an individual event if their skills were specialized or in the all around competition. The only stipulation was that no contestant could be older than eighteen. And though the games were always very popular, opening the Competitions to the Families instantly increased their appeal for the common man. Of course it also lengthened the time of the event to two full weeks, but that only increased the air of celebration. The entire first week was raucous and tense as the representatives of the various Families vied with one another for the honor to compete directly with the students of Noble. Family pride was at stake and emotions often ran very high.
The twins were an anomaly since they did not represent any Family directly, only the King’s Island. Through all the years, the King’s Island had yet to present a champion but even so the twins’ selection was not much of a surprise, for Arnot’s skill with weapons was widely known. It was because of his reputation, plus the fact that both twins were currently training on Noble under a pair of formidable Solitaries, that the High Council of Noble granted the twins an exemption. They were allowed to bypass the first week and compete directly against the students of Noble. The move surprised many of the attendees, but the members of the High Council, who were well aware of the skill of the twins, felt they’d earned the honor, plus it kept the two young representatives from the King’s Island from bruising the egos of any of the Families. It was a decision not without controversy, especially among the students of the various Families, who believed the High Prince and Princess were being afforded special treatment. Skipping the early rounds would allow the royal pair to be rested, and many believed it made their road to the championships much easier. Of course those in the know scoffed at such thinking, the road to the championships of the Noble Competitions was never easy.
Avigail could have cared less about the opinions of the other competitors, but the notion rankled Arnot as he sat restlessly in the crowd which gathered to watch the semi-final of the qualifying round of the kata tournament. The match pitted Ethan, a young Massi youth against Nell, an older female student from Cassinni. The victor of the match would then be eligible to face the favorite, Trajan a young man from Deutzani.
The Twins sat lower down by the arena floor, near the student section. The atmosphere was electric close to ground level, and the crowd hummed with excitement. Off to the right of the twins, a large group of Noble students howled and jeered at some of the more obvious mistakes being made during the match. Most pointedly ignored the royal pair, though a few gave the twins quick glances, obviously curious but careful to keep their expression laced with a touch of disdain.
Arnot, sitting on his hands, rocked back and forth a few times and smiled over at the students, who hurriedly looked away.
“Calm down Arnot, you’ll get your chance,” Avigail said with a smile, then had to jerk her attention back to the match as the youth from Massi scored a quick hit. He was very fast and caught the Cassinni girl by surprise. A great cheer erupted from the crowd and Avigail glanced back to see her parent’s reaction. Gwaynn and Samantha were sitting farther up the crowd in a special box specifically designed for the High King, prime seats. Both were smiling happily, but of course, both were originally from Massi. They would naturally be rooting for Ethan. King Lonogan Massi and Jess, his beautiful Traveler wife, sat on the right of her father while King Marc sat next to Samantha. All seemed to be enjoying the games immensely.
Another cry went up and Avigail turned back. Ethan had managed another quick score.
“He’s good,” Arnot commented. “Very fast, but I’m not sure he has the power and stamina to beat Trajan.”
Nell, the young fighter from Cassinni apparently had the same idea and she launched a furious attack designed to test the strength of the younger male she was fighting. Ethan scurried away, blocking each blow deftly, making no attempt to hold his ground. Those who supported the Cassinni girl jeered, but Arnot thought the strategy was sound.
Ethan scored another hit and it became obvious that he was to dominate this particular bout. Arnot looked over at the students to see their reaction to the contest, but while a few watched, most talked and laughed among themselves as if neither contestant would pose a real problem for any them.
“They’re very arrogant,” Avigail whispered angrily. Arnot nodded but then found he had to agree with their obvious assessment, talented though the two fighting on the floor were, he doubted either would be able to hold their own against any third year student on Noble.
Nell finally scored a hit, but then Ethan came back with a pair, the last a painfully simple strike that Nell should have blocked with ease. Raucous laughter broke out among the students of Noble and Arnot bristled, looking over with a frown.
“They’re being rude,” Avigail hissed and Arnot’s frown turned to a glare. He did not take kindly to bad manners. Avigail had taught him well.
Most of the Noble students were unaware of his attention, but one older girl looked directly back into his eyes and to Arnot’s surprise she rose and slowly walked over and squeezed in next to Avigail. She was a tall girl with long brown…no dark blonde hair. She moved with an easy grace common among those who trained on the island. It made her attractive, but when she came closer Arnot noticed that her skin, though fair, was covered in tiny f
reckles. He would have thought her looks amusing, but for the fact that he was gazing into the bluest eyes in creation and was momentarily held captive by their beauty and intensity.
“I’m Elin,” she said simply, then turned as Ethan scored another hit. “You think you’ll put up a better fight than these two I see,” the girl commented arrogantly, and looked first to Avigail and then locked her eyes with Arnot’s once again.
Arnot chuckled. “Elin, of the Cassinni?” He asked. The girl nodded.
“I’ve heard of you,” Arnot continued. “You’re said to be the favorite with katas and the staff.”
“I will win,” Elin answered with a confident nod.
Arnot chuckled again, sounding to Avigail very much like a Solitary.
“I wish you luck, Elin of the Cassinni.”
“I need no luck and it’ll take more than a year of training with the Solitaries to match the skill and experience I’ve gained while on Noble,” she informed him and then tossed her hair for emphasis. Avi groaned, trapped between the pair. It was very obvious to her that the girl was interested in her brother, though she was also trying to intimidate him, which was at least a twist on the norm.
“Here let me trade,” Avigail said in an attempt to help her brother. She stood and Arnot immediately moved over into her spot and sat very close to Elin. The girl scooted a bit away from him but Arnot followed, making sure his leg was lightly brushing against hers and then he turned his dark eyes on her and hit Elin with a crooked little smile. Avigail rolled her eyes and turned back to the match.
“And who is your Master Elin?” Arnot asked, now completely ignoring the contest, all his concentration on the girl at his side, but anyway it was not much of a fight. Ethan was already ahead 8 to 1 and Nell was clearly tiring. By all accounts it would be over very soon.
“Tar Myson,” Elin answered, stammering a little and somewhat taken aback by the Prince’s aggressive and confident manner. His leg moved slightly and bumped against hers once more. Elin tried to ignore the contact, but found that she was utterly aware of the Prince and his touch. It unnerved her for she had little experience with men, and none at all with someone with such ridiculously high self-esteem.
The Best of All Possible Worlds Page 16