The window stayed down and cooling night breezes swirled through the car. Travlor still faced the window, breathing deeply. “My dear, I dismissed the guards as I tire of their presence. I don’t need them to relate our mission. As a matter of fact, other than those of us on the plane, I didn’t tell anyone of our Italian undertaking.”
He looked back at Daria and when his long hair blew across his face, he raised the window and smoothed his tresses. He looked at her again, gray eyes glittering maliciously. “Don’t you realize that those old men in their garish red dresses will spread the word faster than a small town gossip can spread the news about a philandering neighbor? Your healing pumped up a wasted old geezer and His Imminence will soon be replaced by a living saint.” The bitter sarcasm lacing Travlor’s voice was impressive.
Daria tried to match his tone. “You’d think that some infinitesimal amount of religious or spiritual teachings would’ve touched you at some point.”
Travlor sniffed. “If they ever did, it was so long ago I can’t remember.” He pushed the window button again and the glass lowered, letting the Roman night swirl back into the car.
Back from their Italian excursion and secured safely within the complex, Travlor sequestered himself again. He hadn’t ordered one healing since their return and Daria was jumpy. If he had an inkling that she was sabotaging his health, she would have heard about it. Nevertheless, she felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She decided that when he called for her again, she would give him nothing less than her best efforts. His guard would be up and all his senses would be functioning on high alert.
The days dragged even though she had resumed her original routine. As she went about her business, men hustled in and out of the house bearing the latest news. Daria was able to glean snippets of their reports, so she knew that countries and governments continued to succumb before the relentless machine that had become Travlor’s “Armies of the New Messiah.”
Outreach offices bloomed like weeds in the “newly acquired countries” and volunteers streamed to staff them by the busloads. Put into service immediately, they worked feverishly to further Travlor’s cause. And so the machine went into maximum overdrive. “El Mesias” was everywhere.
Travlor’s healing of the pope had done what even the vast armies of his faithful could not. People fell to their knees at the altar of his supposed divinity. The entire world, with the exception of the superpowers, was stepping into line without a whimper. Travlor was viral and people believed.
Seated on the terrace with a glass of Travlor’s special juice nearby, Daria studied the people lining the gate. They were simple people, used to following a religion established long ago. Their hearts and souls cried out for something more in a world that seemed to turn a blind eye to so much suffering.
She sipped the sweet, refreshing liquid. The healings we’ve—I’ve performed are enough. Especially when nothing like it has been seen in our time.
She used a napkin to blot her brow and swipe the back of her neck. When she set her glass aside, she rearranged the clip holding her hair. She stood, seeking a trace of breeze to cool her, but the air was so still it seemed to be holding its breath. She viewed the mass of faithful followers crowding the gate. She was still puzzled, I would think, out of all these people, that someone would question how and why this man just appeared out of nowhere. It’s almost like they require someone outside themselves to save them from themselves.
She wanted to shake them awake and scream. “Find it within yourselves! It is in your own heart and soul!”
The numbers of people joining his church defied description. And though she hated her part in the deception, she could do nothing about it. The staggering flood of followers illuminated just how lonely the world had become. Sorrowfully, she shook her head and left the terrace. She couldn’t watch anymore.
Three days later, standing before her full length mirror, Daria was in a foul mood. “I’m going to need a wheelchair to get us around.” She blew a blond strand of hair out of her eyes. Disgusted after the latest wardrobe replacement, she didn’t know how she could get much bigger and stay upright. “Hopefully, there’s a seamstress nearby that can keep me covered.”
A knock sounded at her door, and without being asked in, Travlor made his entrance. “I need you to attend me.”
Daria turned around and looked at the man. She was astonished to see how much he had aged. He shuffled to the bed, shoulders stooped, head low. Grimacing, he eased his pain-wracked body onto her bed. “I am ready.”
She went to him and scanned. Shocked at the amount of decay, she had to hide her reaction. I can’t let him know the scope of deterioration. She lowered her head and went to work, withholding nothing.
The session took longer than any of the previous ones, but she finally sang her way to the completion. She dragged a chair to the bedside and sat, keeping her voice low. “Just rest awhile. It will do you good.”
Thinking he had fallen asleep, she went to retrieve a book that she had started. His voice startled her. She went back to the bed and took his hand. “What did you say?”
He swallowed and took a deep breath and tried again. “I feel better. But I know what is going on.”
Daria froze and waited for the ax to fall.
“I am aging faster than even I thought possible. It may be that your efforts can’t circumvent that process anymore.”
Caught off balance, she released his hand and slumped into the chair with ill-concealed relief. “I’m not sure. You’ve missed so many sessions. I would have to believe that your aging is progressing at a rate that may seem fast to you, but is probably quite normal considering your age.”
Travlor’s eyes opened and he sat up under his own volition. “You may have something there.” Daria was gratified to see that he needed no aid.
The Atlantean was quiet for a moment. “Events are starting to get out of hand. I have no choice but to continue to work as hard as I can.”
“Would you care to tell me what is happening that would keep you away?”
A deep sigh rumbled from Travlor as he stood and stretched. “The United States is not falling under my control as easily as I had planned; neither is much of Europe. A while ago, the U. S. and European Union instituted sanctions against South America and Columbia in particular. There is talk that the U. S. is threatening nuclear armament should its people start joining my army.
“Europe, as one unit, has declared that no more news of me or my movement is to be disseminated on their airwaves. Governments are blocking ports of entry from anyone registered within my auspices and borders are closing faster than a junkie can inhale the last line of coke.”
He crossed to the window and stared out. “If the U. S starts threatening nukes, China, Russia, and North Korea will not take it lightly.” He turned to her, eyebrows raised, “World War III wouldn’t be far behind.”
Daria was stunned. “I can’t believe you just told me all this. Why now?”
Travlor started as if swimming up from a dream. He went to the door and looked back. “I needed to unburden myself to someone and you are the only one I trust. Although that may have something to do with the way I have isolated you.”
He grinned diabolically. “Don’t think you’ll be able to do anything with this tidbit. I will regain control and you will continue to attend my health.”
He slammed the door behind him. His tread sounded much lighter and she knew that she had invigorated him. She ran her hands through her hair. She was desperate to think of some way to stop the maniacal man. “There’s got to be a way. I just have to keep looking.”
The month had flown by; however, Ni-Cio was satisfied. The compound was well supplied and stocked with everything his people could possibly need during his absence. He was particularly gratified to see how close they were to becoming self-sustaining should his mission fail. It was not something he co
nsidered during his waking hours. But, alone at night he was assailed by nightmares, making sleep futile.
Admiring the work Rogert and his team had effected in Atlantis, Ni-Cio appreciated that vestiges of their old life connected so seamlessly with the new. The Great Hall of Poseidon had risen again, its old grandeur re-established. New tapestries replaced their ruined predecessors and traced their history from the sinking all the way to the last battle waged within their hallowed walls.
Ni-Cio wandered through the renovated kitchens and halls and took great pride in the strength and fortitude of his people. If he and his companions didn’t return, his fledgling colony would not only survive, they would once again thrive, whether their choice was to return to Atlantis or to continue living in the compound, topside. That knowledge alone gave him comfort.
He walked to the nearest entry portal and retrieved his biosphere. He had thought to take one last swim, but he was restless. He had done all he could to aid his people; now he needed his mission to get underway. “My heart, we will take that swim together when you are back in my arms.”
He stepped into the craft and the hatch materialized. Rocketing out into open ocean, the dark water flowed passed his ‘sphere and soothed him. The sea, always willing to share her mysteries and her delights, made him feel less burdened and his spirits rose. “I am coming love. We have a good idea of your location and once we have entered Barranquilla, we will find our way to you. You are my heart, always . . .”
Evan waded into the surf as Ni-Cio’s biosphere surfaced. He helped his friend disembark, then they walked to shore holding the biosphere high enough that it would no longer be buffeted by the waves. They stowed it under the copse of trees in its assigned space and Evan dusted sand from his hands. “So, we are ready?”
Ni-Cio nodded. “We leave tomorrow. With only twenty men, two ’spheres will hold us, but we will take a third as we will need a spare.”
They finalized departure plans as they walked up the trail to the compound. Following behind, Evan did a quick calculation. “With an early start, we should reach Barranquilla by mid-morning.”
Ni-Cio glanced over his shoulder. “Good. We will moor in deep water and swim to shore. Once you have us masked, we will circulate through town. With all the notoriety, I am certain we will discover the location of Travlor’s hideout; however, with your ability to compel people, the onus may be on you to glean the most information.”
“I don’t think it will take long.”
Ni-Cio stopped and turned around. “It had better not, with the proliferation of nuclear missiles taking aim, the United States and Russia, China, and North Korea are ratcheting up their responses. Borders have closed all over the planet, and Travlor is on the verge of starting World War III.”
Evan nodded. “But think about it Ni-Cio—he has to be weakening because of the compulsions he must maintain. It’s a superlative drain on his energy.”
Ni-Cio looked out across the sea. Lost in thought, he contemplated Evan’s statement. He had been so busy with the preparations for his people that he hadn’t considered the drain Travlor had placed on his dwindling supply of energy. He watched Evan, “I believe the shift of followers from the Catholic Church had to influence the number of people disengaging from other religions. So, maybe he has not had to compel as many as we originally thought. It is possible that because of Daria’s healing, his energy has ceased ebbing and is now flowing as easily as a fish swims with the current.” Ni-Cio turned his attention back to the trail and continued the climb.
Evan fell in behind. “That idea occurred to me as well, which in itself is terrifying. If his energy is high, he will be in talks with the Presidents of China, Russia, and the US, as well as the UN, and Prime Ministers of the European block. Unfortunately, if he’s too weak to compel the leaders and they don’t agree to his terms, the man is mad enough to say damn the consequences and instigate a nuclear war to achieve his goals.”
Ni-Cio reached the trail’s summit and turned again. The waves cascading onto the beach below mirrored his restlessness. “Evan, your father does not frighten me and though he certainly would not be the first invader in history to throw caution aside, world domination is not a new idea. Our plans are sound; we will stop him.”
Evan crossed his arms and shook his head. “Then we’d better get to his hideout ASAP or there’ll be nothing left to rescue … anywhere.”
Evan spiraled down into his own dread of Travlor. His friends had experienced the lengths to which the man was willing to go to achieve his aims. Even though Ni-Cio wasn’t afraid of Travlor, he wasn’t sure he realized just how insane his father really was.
Slamming the receiver down, Travlor pushed away from his desk, stood up, and ran to the door. When he burst into the hall, his men jumped to attention. “Get me that woman and get her now!”
One of the men took off at a dead run. Travlor turned around, slammed the door shut and started pacing, hands clasped behind his back. I can’t afford to kill that betrayer yet!
It wasn’t long before he heard a frantic knock. “Enter!”
Daria stepped into the breaking storm. Travlor whirled around and pointed, his hand shaking. “You! YOU!”
She blinked hard and took a step back. Travlor saw the fear in her eyes and he circled her like a shark. “I have had all of you that I could possibly need in several lifetimes …” He caught himself before he started stuttering like a broken record. Still, the words poured from him like projectile vomit. “I had started to trust you and you betrayed me! Just like all the others. I would kill you if I didn’t need you! It is my misfortune to have to wait until that … that spawn spews out of you!”
He stopped for breath and Daria took her chance. “What have I done?”
Travlor grappled with the sides of his head, wanting to tear his hair out by the roots. Rigidly, he clasped his hands behind his back in an effort to keep them from the woman’s throat. “It finally occurred to me! I don’t know how you figured it out, but you decreased the power of your healings so that instead of increasing my energy and therefore my LIFE, I was sliding backwards in incremental degrees! Did you think I wouldn’t notice at some point?”
Her arms wound about her stomach and she paled. “I … I …” She stopped.
Travlor towered over her. “You have no excuse! You are just like the others! Evan’s mother, the bitch, and Na-Kai, that pontificating fool!”
He ordered himself to walk away. He grabbed the back of a nearby chair to steady himself. “No, you’re worse … you’re like …” An eerie calm settled over him and he faced the vile topsider. “You are just like my father.”
He sank into the chair and covered his face with his hands. Rubbing his eyes as hard as he could, he tried to stem the tidal wave of rage. “There has not been one person in my life that hasn’t deserted me or betrayed me. But you are the worst.” He raised his head and grimaced. “Your pathetic attempts to slither into my heart bring to mind a viper that steals through the trees and settles to wait. The moment the parent leaves the nest, he strikes the unprotected offspring.”
Daria took a step but Travlor held up his hand. “Do not even think of coming any closer.” He lowered his head. Unable to stop himself, his pent up feelings poured out of their own accord. “I never should have gone back to Atlantis. I didn’t have to—they could never have found me. But I did, stupid fool that I was! I stood in front of the Council of Ten and I begged, begged them to let me live my life topside! She was to give birth any moment and she was so scared. Her pregnancy had not been easy.”
A deep sob escaped, shaking his chest. “She didn’t want me to leave her!” He looked up wildly. “I took her in my arms as she lay on the hospital bed and promised her it would be all right. I said that I would only be gone long enough to inform the council that I wanted to live topside. That I wanted to create a life I NEVER HAD!”
Travlor leapt out
of the chair as if he was still addressing the council. “It will be all right? Marik I trusted you to lead the others in what was right! It was what I deserved after so many years of doing my godforsaken duty!”
His rage erupted again as he refocused on Daria. He pounded his chest with a fist as he screamed each statement. “My wife died because they imprisoned me! There was nothing I could do to help her! Na-Kai even blocked my thoughts and I could’ve killed the child before she delivered! I could have saved her!”
His chest heaved and his knees gave way. Travlor fell to the floor. Hot tears streamed down his face and stuck in his throat, inducing such a coughing fit that he couldn’t inhale. He gagged and drool pooled between his hands, darkening the carpet like blood. He drew a ragged breath, but he choked so hard, she thought he would suffocate. As he tried to drag a breath into his burning lungs, he felt a gentle touch suffuse his body. It calmed him enough so that he sucked oxygen like a drowning man coming up for his last breath.
The tympani rhythm of his heart that had threatened to break through his chest slowed. He was able to breathe again. Feeling a deep lethargy seep into the marrow of his bones, he yawned. His eyelids fluttered and closed. Surrounded by black, Travlor plummeted to the floor.
Daria cautiously approached. She scanned him and was relieved to see that he slept comfortably. She pulled a chair next to his inert form and shakily lowered herself onto the seat.
She wept. The breadth of Travlor’s pain was as vast as space. It seemed never-ending. The lengths to which he would’ve gone in order to be with the woman he loved made him more human.
Daria wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands and slowly began the healing notes. She stroked the air above Travlor. She focused on his heart and mind and tried, with the force of her entire being, to help heal his broken heart.
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