The Sons Of Cleito (The Abductions of Langley Garret Book 1)

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The Sons Of Cleito (The Abductions of Langley Garret Book 1) Page 5

by Haines, Derek


  'Gods?'

  'Words and names have been affixed, changed and misunderstood over eternity and mythology has created more mystery and confusion. We are the original inhabitants of our planet, from the sea unlike the mortals, and once again our evolutionary birth right to be here is under threat. But it is also the perfect opportunity to strike against them with the element of surprise and regain our rightful place on the throne of sovereignty.'

  I finished a mouthful of my sandwich, which my stomach hadn't argued with so far, and digested her little speech for a moment. I turned to her. 'So this is Atlantis then?'

  'Probably not. It was a myth created a long time ago, but perhaps the myth had its origins through some accidental human contact with us and then of course, misunderstandings. Humans, or mortals as we call them, have always tried to explain why we are here, even though they can't prove that we are here at all, but they use their own understanding of reality to believe we are.'

  'Are you saying you, or we I should probably say now, don't exist?'

  'Of course we do. We just don't want the humans to know that we do.'

  'Like mermaids?'

  'Exactly,' Chara said, and poked her tongue at me playfully.

  'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be trivial.'

  'It's not. It's exactly what I mean about how humans have tried to explain our existence.'

  'You did a pretty good impersonation of one this morning.'

  'Were you shocked?'

  'Strangely enough, no.'

  'So what went through your mind when you saw me?'

  'Apart from you nakedness and beauty? That you belonged there.'

  'Thank you, and you belong there too. That's why you craved the taste of salt when your lust for me manifested itself.'

  'Oh I'm getting awfully lost here,' I said, as I took another sandwich and munched on it for a few moments. Trying to put the pieces of our conversation together into something logical I could understand. Chara waited silently and patiently. I muttered to myself as I played with the puzzle. 'Ok, we're both gods, so I presume Leda is one a well. You can breathe underwater, so you must have amphibian genetics of some description and my attraction to you made me crave salt. How am I doing so far?'

  'Keep going.'

  'My neck got all hot over you, so maybe it wouldn't have felt so hot if my head was under water. Salt water I gather would be preferable. Now if I put all this together I come up with the conclusion that you, or we I suppose, evolved from the sea and somehow changed in form over millions of years to become a land dwelling animal as well. So some strand of an ancient amphibian species, and because of that, maybe we can only procreate by returning to the sea.'

  'Very good. Anything more?'

  'You make very good sandwiches. But they'd taste much better with wine. Or is the wine and gods collocation a myth as well?'

  Chara leant forward, and a little closer to me. 'No, it's not a myth. I'll see what I can do,' she said smiling at me. Her face so close to mine that I could almost taste her breath. The temptation to kiss her swept across me, but not with the force of my first rush of lust for her. She didn't move, except her eyes. Moving almost imperceptibly back and forth between my eyes and my mouth. It had been so long since I'd had to decide if a woman wanted to be kissed for the first time or not that I couldn't decide what to do. I looked at her eyes and mouth as she did mine. I moved my head a few microns closer and she didn't make to move away. Only her lips moved. Opening only a little, in invitation. Our eyes locked as our mouths moved closer, and then when her eyes slowly closed, I knew. I kissed her gently and then moved back from her. Finding her eyes asking for more.

  Chara had her legs curled up on the sofa with my arm around her as she leant her head on my shoulder, while we finished the sandwiches she had prepared.

  'I was expecting to be reading ancient text books all afternoon and evening.'

  'Are you complaining?'

  'Of course not, it's well, a bit of a surprise to have a beautiful young woman in my arms.'

  'As I was never expecting to be held tenderly by Soter.'

  'I'm just Langley, Chara. Just Lang.'

  'By any name then Lang. But we know that you have been returned to us so that you will ensure our protection.'

  'Protection from what or who?'

  'Only you know Soter.'

  'I don't know anything, really.'

  'But I have to tell you that this afternoon wasn't included in my briefing notes. I'm sorry.'

  'So our kiss wasn't part of the plan?'

  'No.'

  'I don't understand.'

  'Nor do I Lang. I promise you, nor do I,' she said, looking up at me. Her eyes though, asked me to kiss her again. I did.

  *****

  The rest of our afternoon took the form that was probably originally envisaged by the other gods, or whoever they were, who had planned our study session. With me reading at the desk and Chara lying on the sofa, watching something on a flexible screen that she'd had folded in her jeans' pocket, but was ready to answer my questions or offer explanations. While she gave me the choice of the book to select, she knew from my short reading session before lunch which one I wanted to read first.

  'Was the original plan to deliver these books to me and then go back to whatever it was that you were doing?'

  'Perhaps,' she said, without looking up from her screen.

  'Then come back later and collect me for a question and answer session in a sterile meeting room or something like that?'

  'Maybe.'

  'And no one knows that you decided to change the plan a little?' I asked as I continued reading.

  'I doubt it.'

  'But you did know who I was when you found me sitting on that rock.'

  'No, not until we were in the elevator.'

  'No one told you who you were sent out to collect?'

  'No.'

  'So what happened in the elevator to bring you to believing I was Soter?'

  'I didn't know you were Soter then. I only knew that I would fall in love with you.'

  'How?'

  'Being one of us has its advantages.'

  'Meaning gods?'

  'I prefer us.'

  'As omniscient though it would seem.'

  'Perhaps, but I did need Leda to tell me that you were Soter, so maybe not so omniscient ' she said, but for the first time in our conversation she looked over to me and smiled.

  'Ok, I have one more question.'

  'And?'

  'If Gaia is Earth, what or where is Uranus?'

  'Just before Neptune I think.'

  'Right. And a little way past Saturn,' I said, responding to her attempt at humour.

  'Exactly.'

  'Ok, but what I mean is; is there a connection between us as you call us, and Uranus? A godly connection from Gaia giving birth to a distant planet?'

  'Good powers of assumption so far Lang.'

  'Some kind of division that was designed to keep us separated from the humans, by being Uranians?'

  'Possibly, but as I said, names have been mystified over time, so they are hardly likely to be literal in meaning.'

  'Yes I understand that, but if this separation exists and we are hidden from humans, how was it that I was brought here by people who were clearly and most definitely more than likely CIA or MI5 humans rather than gods?'

  'We can't survive in total isolation from humans. There are lines of communication and practices in place that allow us to interact with humans when necessary. After all, there are many of us, like you, who live or have lived a human existence.'

  'So? The CIA like people?'

  'No names, but I suppose your idea of Uranians works quite well.'

  'What?'

  'Let's say that there are those who help us that don't belong on either side.'

  'What? Aliens?'

  'No, but there are those who help us from time to time with information and intelligence, and missions such as bringing you here, as well as acting as our in
termediary for negotiations, while also working to maintain control over humans.'

  'You mean a control above governments?'

  'In a sense.

  'The oligarchy?'

  'It's as good a name as the Uranians.'

  'Ok, I'm more comfortable with the oligarchy than Uranians. But clearly they know where we are located.'

  'Yes, all of our locations.'

  'How many are there apart from here?'

  'Nine.'

  'What, ten Atlantis' scattered around the planet?'

  'Yes, each one descending from one of the ten sons of Cleito.'

  'They've been hidden well then.'

  'We hope so.'

  'So which son is this island descended from?'

  'Atlas.'

  'I should read some more I think.'

  'Yes, you should,' Chara said as she got up from the sofa. 'I have some things I need to do. Can I call by later and check on your progress?'

  'Sure.'

  'Use this to take notes,' she said and passed me her flexible screen. 'Tap the top right corner to dictate your notes, or the bottom right to enter text.'

  'Ok, thanks.'

  'Right then, I'll see you later,' she said and headed towards the door, then stopped and waited for a moment, before turning and looking at me. She walked over to me slowly, bent down, and kissed me. She smiled and then skipped for the door. I heard the door close and waited for a moment. Collecting my thoughts for some minutes before returning to the pages of my book.

  *****

  I lost track of time reading a version of history that at times made no sense to me and at other times seemed so perfectly logical. When fantasy started to border on possibility and impossibility became probable, I hurried to read further, taking a list of notes that I hoped Chara or someone could clarify for me. I had started trying to cross reference parts from one book to another and was engrossed when I heard the knock at my door. I glanced at my watch on my way to the door. It was after seven.

  Chara's smile waited for me on the other side of the door, and when I saw her I said, 'I have so many questions for you.'

  She smiled back and brought a bottle from behind her back. 'And I have wine for you.'

  'The questions can wait,' I said as she walked in, giving me a quick kiss on passing.

  'You've been busy then I see', she said, as she looked over the four books open on the desk.

  'Yes, it's all a bit much to absorb. My head is spinning.'

  'Would an evening beach picnic help?'

  'Is that an invitation?'

  'Perhaps. There's a picnic basket outside your door if you think it's a good idea.'

  'You like the word perhaps I've noticed.'

  'Maybe,' she smiled, as she cradled the bottle of wine in her arms.

  'That's a very pretty dress,' I said, as I admired her beauty, which was only enhanced by her white floral summer dress and white sandals.

  'Thank you, I'm glad you like it,' she said as she spun around, letting me catch the low cut of the back of her dress.

  'Well if it indeed was an invitation to a picnic, I accept. But only on one condition.'

  'Oh yes, and what's that?'

  'That this picnic is with you.'

  'Oh I assure you it's just the two of us. Now, are you ready Lang? The evening only lasts so long.'

  'Ready,' I said, as I quickly slipped on my shoes and tied their laces before leaving with Chara for my first return to the island.

  We took the elevator, which was no surprise, but I was stunned when it didn’t open from within a rock face near a runway. This elevator opened onto a veranda overlooking a white sandy beach, with the sunset glistening across the sea. As I'd already witnessed a sunrise, I knew this was the opposite, western side of the island.

  *****

  I lay on my bed with my hands behind my head, looking up at the ceiling. My brain processing what had been a long, sensual and romantic evening on a warm beach with a beautiful young woman, while my traverse, ascending and descending colons were rearranging their order and knotting themselves around the upper reaches of my large intestine in the process. With my mind acting as mediator between my brain and digestive organs, my brain reluctantly accepted the possibility that something might be wrong. My liver and stomach weren't all that happy with this conclusion, and sent a new message to the effect that everything was indeed very wrong.

  Deciding to put off any immediate decision over which part of my body was right or wrong, I grabbed Evenor and Leucippe from the desk and got back into bed for a little reading. It was heavy going, which was exactly as I had hoped, and as my eyes drooped a little more with each page, I left my internal organs, mind and brain to sort themselves out while I slept.

  After I woke the next morning, I peed, shat, showered, shaved and gave my teeth a thoroughly good brushing, while I looked for answers in the bathroom mirror. I didn't find any, but my mouth felt very fresh. When I checked the buffet cabinet, which was completely restocked with an assortment of breakfast ideas, I wondered how it had been replenished overnight. I'd grabbed a mineral water and packet of potato crisps after I returned the night before and there was no sign of breakfast assortments then. Unless someone had snuck into my room silently during the night and refilled the cabinet, which was doubtful, the only logical conclusion was that it had been restocked from the other side of the wall. Pleased with my powers of deduction, I then prepared my breakfast and enjoyed it along with a few pages of The First King.

  With breakfast finished, I made another coffee and took The First King with me to the sofa and read while waiting to see what the new day would bring. It was no surprise that my brain, mind and internal digestive organs were forecasting very different expectations for the day ahead.

  Dubiety

  When the knock on the door came, only a few minutes after I'd finished my coffee, of course I had expected Chara's smile to greet me.

  'Oh, good morning Leda.'

  'Good morning. Are you ready?' she asked.

  'I suppose so. Do I need anything?'

  'No, I don't think so.'

  'Right then,' I said, as I closed the door and she led me off down the corridor. She seemed to march more than walk.

  'Did you enjoy your reading?'

  'I'm not sure I would say enjoyed, more fascinated I think. It's all a bit much to take in though, what with all these gods, myths and mysterious planets.'

  'If you haven't lived with the knowledge all your life I can understand that it must be difficult for you to comprehend. It's always the same for those who were taken from us.'

  'Taken? What do you mean?'

  'It was your mother's fault. Like so many others she was tempted by what the humans had to offer and deserted her island.'

  'You make it sound like a crime.'

  'This way, I want you to see the library,' she said as we turned into a corridor. I followed in silence as we made our way. Finally entering a room that turned out to be like a small cinema and Leda gesturing for me to sit along side her in the front of two rows of chairs. She took something from her pocket and pressed it and the screen in front of me flashed still images of people boarding a boat, then a short video of an island with a voice-over telling the story of how we must fight for our survival and protected status, and be ready when the day comes to go into glorious battle to retain out rightful place on the throne. I don't know why, but the name Winston Smith flashed into my thinking as I watched.

  'I suppose you know I went up onto the island last evening,' I told her as the voice-over started repeating itself.

  'I hope it was pleasant.'

  'Um, yes it was.'

  'I'm not sure that it's the right time to ask this, but I've only met you and Chara since I've been here. Does anyone else live here?'

  'Yes,' she said, and I waited for more information that once again failed to arrive. More still images flashed on the screen and Leda seemed to be concentrating on them intently. I discovered why when she paused o
n one image of a woman's face. The woman was in her mid-twenties and was dressed in a jacket and skirt not dissimilar from the one I had seen Chara wear on my first day on the island. However, the style was a little different and it gave me a hint of fifties or sixties fashion but as the image was in black and white I didn't know what colour it was. The woman's hair was short, softly curled and dark, which also reminded me of the sixties styles.

  'Do you know who she is?' Leda asked.

  'No,' I replied immediately, but she just waited, looking at me. As the seconds passed I gathered she wanted me to form an opinion as to the woman's identity.

  'My mother I suppose,' I said, as I connected the dots of this exercise.

  'You've never seen a picture of your mother before, have you Lang?'

  'No. I only had the long letter that she wrote to me before her death. I don't even know where it is now though.'

  'Do you see a resemblance?'

  'Perhaps, but I'm not very good at that sort of thing. Women seem to do that much better.'

  'It's usually in the shape of the eyes,' Leda said as if to validate my theory.

  'So how many people live here?' I asked, thinking that it had been long enough since I had last tried to get an answer to my question, as well as thinking that the introduction to my mother was a little worrisome. First a name and now a photograph.

  'All in due course Lang. I'm sorry, but we need to take this slowly as there will be a lot for you to digest and understand.' I nodded, but her answer, and perhaps her mention of the word digest, sent my small intestine into a tight little knot as waves of doubt swept through my stomach. My brain, just for a change, was in total agreement. Something, if not everything was very, very wrong about all this. Plus she had ignored my question yet again.

  'More books?' I asked, but only to sound as if I was still active in the conversation. My brain and mind were far removed from it as they started grouping the woman in the pale blue pants suit and killer hazel eyes with Leda and probably Chara. Different degrees of niceness, but they all had one thing in common. They all exercised control over me.

  'Yes, more books along with a few more sessions with me,' Leda replied, but I hardly heard her as my mind was busy categorising the woman in my flat as my arresting officer, Leda as my jailer, and Chara as my charming good cop interrogator. My brain then came to the logical conclusion from this assertion, that I was definitely a prisoner. In a rare exchange, my brain sent a message down below that received total agreement from every single part of my digestive system. I was, if not very definitely, in extremely serious shit.

 

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