The Flowery War

by Tim Andersen

  Lika was reluctant to leave Smith, but Smith bade her go, saying, “I’ll be fine. Do your job.” We all followed the Abbot outside.

  The temperature had improved somewhat, and, looking at the clear blue sky, I again nearly forgot that I was on a tiny planetoid circling a mysterious mass of aliens and who knew what else. At least that was not visible, having “set” over the mountains. The Abbot turned to us as the mid-afternoon sun warmed our faces and said, “we will begin here in the central square. Please ask questions my friends.”

  I felt a powerful urge to pee. “Abbot, where is the restroom?” I said.

  The Abbot, smiling as ever, called to Sister Equa who had been sweeping the square with a straw broom and asked her to show me. “This way,” she said pleasantly, moving towards a long, low building that followed the outer wall. “This is the dormitory,” she said. “You’ll retire here after the evening meal.”

  “I thought we’d be staying on our ship,” I said.

  Sister Equa smiled widely, “of course not. You are our guests here. We have provided you with everything to which you are accustomed.” Then she added, “of course, you are free to return to your ship at any time.”

  We entered through an arcade of smooth red columns, through a small courtyard and into a corridor paved with smooth pink marble. On either side of the corridor were low doors that I took to be the contemplatives’ cells. I supposed that the men and women shared the dormitory as I had not seen another one--yet another indication that this was no abbey. She took me to the end through a narrow door into a tiled bathroom. It looked modern with spray showers and flush toilets. I guessed that the Amidans wanted to provide us with the atmosphere of the middle ages but not the inconvenience.

  Sister Equa did not follow me into the bathroom, saying, “your companions will be waiting in the square for you.”

  After using the toilet, I began washing my hands. Looking in the mirror I saw my face: hair, windblown, chin, a little stubbly. The truth was sinking in to me at that point. I was on an alien world, using an alien bathroom, and Smith had agreed to God knows what without a second thought. Admittedly, they had been nothing but friendly, and what they promised in technology would advance us decades into the future. No one could really pass that up, certainly not Smith, who thrived on accomplishment and success. Smith would let them boil him in oil if he could be lauded as a genius and a hero for ages to come. Maybe that was why they had wanted him and no one else. I just hoped that he knew what he was doing.

  As for all that they had said about our being their ancestors and coming from a time before the universe, I could not believe it. Maybe it was part of their religion, I thought, a sort of irrational belief system that, for whatever bizarre reason, focused on the human race. If that made them want to give us things for almost nothing, then so be it.

  I patted down my hair as best I could and left the bathroom. As I walked through the dormitory, I passed a couple of contemplatives scrubbing the marble floor, a Brother and a Sister. Again I had forgotten their names. They looked up, smiled, nodded from their kneeling positions, and went back to what they were doing. I smiled back and kept walking.

  When I reached the little courtyard, which had a beautiful latticework overhead with hanging plants, I got confused about which way to go next. The light had changed too, making it difficult to identify landmarks. For some reason it had grown rather dark.

  I passed right through and entered the door across. I found myself in the kitchen, a spacious octagonal room full of medieval cooking equipment. The contemplatives’ modern bathroom and utensils were only to spare we 22nd century humans inconvenience apparently. They, on the other hand, were enjoying the full medieval experience. The dishes from the midday meal were washed and neatly stacked on a counter. No one was there now.

  I realized my mistake and started to turn around when I heard Smith’s voice. It was coming through a small window across the room. I peeked through and saw the refectory. Hoping that no one would come in to start preparing the evening meal, I leaned against the wall next to the window and listened.

  “I can’t see how any of this is going to help me or you,” said Smith.

  “We don’t expect you to understand at this point,” said the Prioress. “The ‘myths’, as you call them, will help you to discover that as well.”

  “Why can’t you just tell me what this is all about? I took the warnings you sent me seriously, but I did not expect these senseless games.”

  “Do you tell your students and assistants how to solve every problem, Tolan?”

  “No, of course not. That would be pointless,” he said.

  “You have answered your question.”

  “But I’m no student! This isn’t training. It’s too important.”

  “Part of your agreement, if you recall, is that you accept our tutelage.”

  “You said that you would teach me your mythology, that I would have to solve some sort of problem---a test of some sort---and that at some point I would be released from my obligation.”

  “The ‘test’, as you call it, has already begun, but it is essential, if you are to succeed, that you understand our myths. They are a deep and ancient teaching.”

  Smith snorted in disbelief. “Forgive me, Prioress, but I’m surprised at your religiousness.”

  The Prioress said, “Tolan, you should know that you need not ask our forgiveness for anything. Your attitude is understandable, but there is a difference between idle superstition and Truth.”

  “I know the difference!”

  “Indeed? Then it is time for your teaching. Cross the valley to the place I told you about. Study the teachings inscribed there. When you are done, return here and you will begin your ‘test’.”

  “My assistants?” said Smith.

  “They will be well cared for, my friend.”

  “Very well, but I remind you not to waste time, we are in your hands.”

  I heard Smith shuffling, and, realizing that I might be caught if one of them passed through the kitchen, I hurried back out into the courtyard. The light had returned now, perhaps it was a cloud that had made it dark before, and I rushed through the arcade and found Lika, Crispin, and the Abbot waiting.

  “You were gone a long time,” said Lika. “The Abbot was about to send someone to search for you.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me, we will start with the Cathedral,” said the Abbot.

  He set off, and we all followed after him through the heavy gilded doors of the giant structure. The last one through, I looked back and caught a glimpse of Smith disappearing through the main gate.

  Chapter 4 – The Revelation in the Crypt

  I considered what I had heard while we slowly followed the Abbot up the nave, tuning out his drone about the stained glass. So, I thought, Smith did communicate with the Amida outside of official channels, as Trexel had believed. He said that they sent him “warnings”. About what I wondered? What impending doom would put us in their hands? If Earth was in danger, perhaps this whole mission was Smith’s personal quest to save it. Maybe he had kept the warnings a secret for just such a reason, so as to hog the glory of bringing the Amida to our aid. Then again, why had the Amidans gone along with it? It sounded as though Smith had been expecting something else from the Amida, certainly not that they would appear as humans and demand that he study their ancient mythology.

  Trexel had told me not to go through Smith’s files, not to follow his movements, but now, I thought, I could not stand idly by. There was something deeper going on here than one man’s treason, something far more dangerous. I needed to find out what Smith had been sent. I resolved to go back to the ship at my first opportunity and raid Smith’s office.

  “And this is the entrance to the crypt,” said the Abbot.

  I noticed, too late, that everyone had stopped moving and nearly collided with Crispin. In my haste to avoid him, I tripped on a flagstone and smashed my
nose into a pillar. Next to the pillar was a dark hole with a staircase leading down, and I barely caught myself from tumbling into it.

  Crispin smirked while Lika gave me a withering glance as I touched my tender and bleeding nose. The Abbot had not noticed though because he was already descending, still talking. Staunching the bleeding with my sleeve, I followed my companions after him.

  The crypt had a cave-like odor, damp and musty. The Abbot lit a torch and, by its flickering glow, I could see a room supported by vaulted pillars large enough that the far walls were not visible. I had been expecting a cobwebby, rat or insect infested cave or tunnel, possibly with bats, but this was more like a basement with smooth stone walls and not a single spider web or creepy-crawly. I wondered if the Amida had bothered to create any insects or pests.

  The Abbot moved forward into the crypt, and I hurried to keep up. I remembered from the movies that crypts were basically burial vaults where the dead were kept. I expected the crypt to be empty since this was all an Amidan fabrication and they had no dead to bury here.

  The Abbot stopped at a row of sarcophagi. “These,” he said, “hold the remains of our ancestors.”

  “These are Amidans?” asked Lika.

  “They are Amidans, and they are human,” said the Abbot.

  “Well, which are they? They can’t be both,” said Crispin.

  The Abbot turned to him and, smiling in the dim light, said, “perhaps you would like to see?”

  “Wouldn’t that be a desecration?” asked Lika.

  “They will not mind,” he said. And in a swift motion, he pressed on the side of the stone lid. It slid off.

  I leaned over but could see only darkness until the Abbot held the torch down. A human skull looked back at me. It was part of a skeleton dressed in the same kind of red robe the Abbot was wearing. “They look human,” I said.

  “As you wish, they are human,” said the Abbot.

  “Who is he?” said Lika.

  “She,” he said, “was named Mateya. She was a great teacher and a savior of our race.”

  “What did she save you from?” I asked.

  The Abbot smiled, “a great many things. Mainly ourselves.”

  “How long ago did she live?”

  “She lives in our hearts always. How long she has been dead, a year, an eon, who can say? Time has no meaning in the realm of the mind.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” said Crispin.

  But the Abbot said nothing, turned, and continued along the row of sarcophagi, walking so swiftly that his torch shrunk to a point. We ran to keep up, and I saw that there were thousands of sarcophagi. “All these,” he said from the darkness, “were refugees.”

  “Refugees from what?” I asked, feeling the chill in the damp crypt seep into my clothes.

  “Folly, arrogance, greed,” said the Abbot, “evil beyond measure. These who were skillful enough to escape with Mateya evolved to become the Amida. The rest died out.”

  “I thought you said these were humans,” said Crispin. “What are you saying man? The human race is thriving right this minute.”

  The Abbot whirled, “is it, my friend?”

  “You’re damned right we are,” said Crispin.

  “Then we are happy for you,” he said. “Perhaps you and they who died out are not the same after all.”

  “Is there some threat to us?” I asked. “Are you warning us that we are about to suffer the same fate? Are you from an alternate reality?”

  “An alternate reality? That might be the best way to explain it. Mr. Smith, when he has completed his study, will explain it more fully,” said the Abbot. “As for warnings. We have already warned you, and now the time for warnings has passed. There is a grave threat to you. One of you, however, knows much more than the rest of you,” he said, staring at Lika.

  Lika turned white.

  Crispin glared at Lika. He looked as I had never seen him, hands balling into fists, shaking with barely contained rage. “Knows what? What do you know?” He waited for a response, but Lika stared at the floor, silently shaking her head. “I’m the security officer on this ship. If there’s a threat to us or our mission, I should have been told!”

  Lika looked as if she were about to start crying. “No, no,” she said, “that’s not what he means. I-I don’t know anything.” Her eyes were wide with terror, and she looked from Crispin, to the Abbot, who appeared at ease, to me, as if seeking help, but I was shocked into immobility. Crispin appeared to have gone mad.

  “You do,” said Crispin, his eyes squinting. “Spill it!”

  “Hey, hey, Lars,” I said, struggling against the cold paralysis that had seized my body. I reached out and grabbed his arm, but my grip was weakened with emotion, and he threw it off.

  “Don’t ‘hey, hey’ me,” he said. He pointed a finger at Lika, “she’s going to tell me what she knows!” He approached her, and Lika retreated. “She’s been a pain in my side these last two years. Treating me like a servant.” He turned then whirled and shook a finger at her, “but you’re used to that, aren’t you? Think you can get away with anything? Daddy’s rich, isn’t he?” He looked at me, “she grew up in a palace, waited on hand and foot. Me? I was slaving on freighters and merchant ships from the time I was ten year old.” He sniffed. “I even worked on a liner, probably cleaned your Daddy’s toilet once.”

  “No,” she said.

  “Oh, yes, with Smith around I had to keep my mouth shut. You’re his pet, his toy,” he said. “But now, now, I’ve got you. You and Smith both have been up to something, and, once I file my report, you and Smith will get what you deserve.”

  “Shut up,” I said.

  “Shut up, yourself, you,” he said. “Trexel told me all about you, Momma’s boy. The damned building is named after you.”

  “Not me,” I said. “Hey, what do you mean? Trexel told you what about me?”

  “You didn’t think you were the only person Trexel has spying for him, do you?” said Lars.

  I was stunned.

  “Sp-spying for Trexel, Goshan?” said Lika.

  He turned to Lika, seeming calmer now. “Oh, yes, and you were beginning to get along so well. Fenn here is Trexel’s man.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she said.

  “Ask him; see if he can work up the courage to deny it.”

  She looked at me, and all I could do was look away, silent. Up until that point, I had felt only a certain excitement, some anxiousness about my role as spy. Even though I hadn’t done any actual spying, I felt ashamed. Lika had gotten under my skin. How could she be my friend, let alone more, if she couldn’t trust me?

  “See?” he said. Crispin looked gleeful. “He wasn’t even a good spy.” He spat, hitting one of the sarcophagi. “Well, you and Smith are going to pay for whatever damage you’ve caused, Little Miss. You can bet on that.” He turned to me. “As for you, Fenn, this mission is over for you. If you want to salvage your career, you’d better follow me back to the ship. We’re leaving.”

  He reached into his jacket and pulled out a stunner, pointing it at us. He spoke to the Abbot, “get Smith here. I’m arresting him and her.”

  The Abbot looked at the gun serenely. “I’m afraid your weapon will not function here,” he said.

  Lars raised the weapon at him.

  “You may test it if you’d like.”

  Lars frowned and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. His eyes widened. “I just checked these!” He stared at the Abbot. “You’d better stop interfering or I’ll have a warship down on you faster than---”

  “Your threats, Mr. Crispin, are ill-informed,” said the Abbot, holding up his hand. “Your warship’s weapons cannot function here either. Mr. Smith and Ms. Townsend shall remain here for the time being. You, however, are free to leave.”

  Lars, seeing that he had no choice, sniffed, turned, and stomped out of the crypt.

  Lika stared at me for a long time while I stood there feeling uncomfortable. I wanted to run an
d not look back, at the same time, I knew I couldn’t. Finally she said, “Goshan, go.”

  “No,” I said. Whatever was going on here was bigger than me and my personal ambitions. More than that, I sensed that Lika did not want me to go, hoped I would stay, that what Crispin had said and what I had tacitly confirmed was not true. I needed to redeem myself in her eyes.

  “You heard what he said. Anyway, why shouldn’t you? You’ve been spying on us for Trexel.”

  “I never did anything, I swear,” I said.

  “You didn’t say that a moment ago. Even if you didn’t betray us, you were going to.”

  I had had enough. Anger welled inside me. “You betrayed me! You and Smith kept me in the dark, took me along like some sort of---” I searched for the appropriate word. “---child. Trexel knew about the secret communications.”

  “We couldn’t tell you. They wouldn’t let us,” she said, pointing at the Abbot who was standing by serenely, watching this human drama with detached emotion. “I wanted to tell you. I even thought about telling you on the way here. I felt that you ought to know what you were in for.” She sighed as her words tumbled out. “We knew that Lars was a spy. He’s never liked Tolan or me. Tolan had me spy on him on the last mission. Really spy---I broke into his files. Lars isn’t who he claimed to be. He doesn’t even work for Trexel. He works for the Inspector General’s office. We thought he was trying to dig up dirt on the diplomatic corps. He even had notes on Director Stoss.”

  I stood there frowning at her. It sounded like she was trying to convince me, but I was still angry.

  “You have every right to be angry,” she said, her liquid brown eyes wide as if pleading for sympathy, “but you have to understand that we’re not traitors. They didn’t tell us anything except that we had to come here. Even now I don’t know what’s going on.” She looked over at the Abbot. “I hope Tolan does.”

  “He will,” said the Abbot. “You all will, and, now that the spy Lars Crispin is gone, we can tell you more.” He turned towards the exit and headed up the stairs. We followed.