“We think it works at a biochemical level,” Professor Daynor added. “Detecting trace elements in the ground, comparing it to living DNA.”
“You speak strangely,” Sandora said, “But I assume your words mean something to the Galatians. The map needs a drop of blood from the species asserting First Rights, and the species with which it wishes to compare itself. In other words, the blood of the Regalans, Bulwarks, Commoners, Deermas, and all the species represented here today, will be compared to the Galatians.
“Let’s get this over with so we can all go home or get on with the killing,” Chief Krom said, offering a finger to Dr. Katrina who was standing, lancet at the ready. “Now take my blood and be done with it.”
Nobody was paying attention to Lars and Josie, as they lingered at the buffet table where they were shoveling crackers and cheese into their mouths.
Chief Krom’s hairy finger was larger than life on the screen, as Doctor Katrina pricked his finger and squeezed out a drop of blood on the tear-drop shape at the bottom of the map. A second later, a net of red light shot out of the map in all directions. It spread over the baseball diamond, scanning the ground, expanding across the city, to disappear into the horizon.
“Shit balls of fire,” Josie whispered in awe. “Did you just see that?”
“It is circling the globe at the speed of light, collecting data,” Professor Daynor offered into the microphone.
A moment later, the grid of light reappeared on the horizon, to absorb back into the map. The land masses on the map began to fill with a red color, diminishing to a circle that migrated from deep in Eastern territory over to the West and back to the Eastern edge of the Kalida River to stabilize and spread out.”
“The map is looking for traces of Chief Krom’s blood line, going back to the beginning of time,” Sandora said, “And is cross-referencing that with geographical location. In order for the Blood Map to pick up a blood line in a particular locale, a large concentration of people from the same bloodline had to be settled there for at least a thousand years.”
“What if a different species occupied the same land, but at different time periods?” Judge Elizabeth asked.
“The map always defers to the first occupants—hence the name of the law—First Rights.”
“I see human characteristics in every species here today,” Judge Elizabeth said. “Especially in the Commoners—how does the map differentiate between partially and wholly human races?”
“It looks at the DNA,” Professor Daynor offered. “At least that’s what we think it does. If there’s alien DNA in the mix then the map sorts it out as a unique species. And it looks for settlements with a similar ratio of human and alien DNA, counting it as one people.”
“Who is next?” Dr. Katrina asked.
Prince Valdor went up next; a drop of his blood landed on the teardrop, turned blue and the network of blue started at the same place where the Bulwark line had begun to migrate and expand West of the Kalida River and far into the Southlands, stretching beyond Tectonia’s borders all the way to the southern seas. He nodded in satisfaction, saying smugly, “Tectonia is exactly where she belongs.”
Next, Prince Loyl offered a drop of his blood. The map assigned his blood a green shade, started out in the same place as the Bulwarks and Commoners and followed a wide migration pattern until finally settling and expanding in the Northlands, exactly where his people lived now. Every species represented offered a drop of blood to yield similar results.
Sandora explained to the crowd. “The color the map assigns to the bloodline is based on the order of submission. The first drop of blood is always given a shade of red, the second drop of blood is always blue, the third is always orange, and so on.”
Judge Elizabeth offered her blood for the Galatians, but Chief Krom protested.
“How do we know this isn’t a setup?”
“I assure you it is not,” Elizabeth said with a frown.
“Galatian blood is Galatian blood,” Chief Krom said. “It shouldn’t matter whose is drawn?”
Sandora nodded. “You are correct.”
“Then let me choose from among you.”
“Suit yourself,” Judge Elizabeth said, folding her arms.
“Prince Valdor,” Chief Krom said. “I ask you to pick a random Galatian.”
The young prince scanned the Galatians at the forefront. His brow lifted at the sight of Josie and Lars covered with dirt and blood, stuffing their mouths at the buffet table.
“A drop of that peasant woman’s blood,” Prince Valdor curled up his upper lip in disgust.
“You mean Josie?” Judge Elizabeth asked in surprise.
“Me?” Josie’s voice was muffled by crumbs falling out of her mouth. It came out as “Mwf?”
Prince Valdor nodded.
Josie spit the cookies out and hurried to the projector, heart thumping in her ears. What if the map didn’t work? What if her Albright/Spaulding blood didn’t produce the desired results, sealing Galatia’s fate? Knees shaking, she hardly felt the pinprick, nor the doctor squeezing out a drop of blood on the map.
The map depicted her bloodline in a light shade of purple. It started in a different place than all of the others, across the ocean on a faraway continent Josie didn’t recognize. All voices fell quiet as the network remained still.
“The map proves the Galatians don’t belong here.”
“Hold on,” General Red said. “Give it time.”
A line broke from the original spot, and three more lines from that, and three more from each of the three. The purple lines crossed the oceans to other continents, spread and networked, On this continent where they currently stood, the lines converged, split and crossed the Kalida river, to cover the Kingdoms of the Bulwarks, the Regalans, the Deermas, the Commoners and all others until every inch of land, save a stretch of islands, was covered in Galatian purple.
The baseball diamond remained still and quiet as the leaders of the Western Alliance contemplated this turn of events.
“The map is a fraud,” Chief Krom accused, his beady eyes glaring at Judge Elizabeth and General Red. “This is a setup with magical trickery carved all over it.”
Red took a step toward the chief, pounding the end of his angelic staff angrily against the ground. “It is not magic that saved us, but the hand of our God. Stand down or feel his wrath.”
Chief Krom gave a battle cry and bashed in the projector with his sledge hand and swung at Judge Elizabeth. Or was it aimed at Red? Josie couldn’t be sure as they were standing side-by-side, but Michael drew his sword, cutting off the chief’s sledge in one swipe.
The chief cried out in surprise, backed away from Michael, growling at the back of his throat. Two of Krom’s warriors lowered their horns as if they were about to charge Michael, but other Galatians with angelic swords formed a tight circle around him and Judge Elizabeth.
“Stand down, Chief Krom,” Prince Loyl said, slit eyes narrowing in warning, while Prince Valdor backed him with a feisty glare. “The Blood Map has been authenticated. Its colors do not lie. According to the treaty our kingdoms have signed, every tree, every mountain, every stream, every crumb of dirt on this planet belongs to the Galatians, making us mere tenants in our own lands. But they do not demand all our lands. Just what they need.”
“Who is to say they won’t change their minds tomorrow?” Chief Krom’s chest heaved. “I say to Helhatha with the treaty, it’s more important to finish this battle.”
“I’m sick to death of treaties,” Judge Elizabeth pushed her way through the Galatians protecting her from harm. “But since the Alliance loves them so much, let’s add a rider to First Rights. As long as the other nations respect our borders, recognize us as a free and sovereign nation, and we are welcomed into the Western Alliance as full members in good standing, Galatia will forfeit its rights to all of your kingdoms. Would that make everyone happy?”
“You would do that?” Chief Krom asked, brow furrowing in suspicion. “Why?
”
“So that all of humanity and its offshoots may live in peace.”
The leaders broke out in agitated discussion, while General Red and Michael took strategic positions around their mother, as if they feared the Bulwarks would attack her again.
After several minutes, Prince Valdor spoke for the Western Alliance. “We accept your proposition. We will have our lawyers draw up the addendum and present it to you post-haste.”
Chief Krom snatched a war hammer from one of his warriors, and with a fierce growl, hit the Blood Map, shattering the projector beneath it into thousands of pieces.
“Whah!” Gizmo said, shielding his face. When he saw the projector, his face turned into red fury. “That’s irreplaceable, you asshole!”
Chief Krom tackled Gizmo. The two of them rolled across the ground several times before General Red, Prince Loyl and Prince Valdor’s soldiers broke it apart.
“Galatia is theirs and we are obligated to leave them live in peace,” Prince Loyl said, holding his chin where Chief Krom had hit him in a blind rage.
“Galatian lover!” Chief Krom spat at the Regalan prince.
“On behalf of my father,” Prince Valdor address Elizabeth with an elegant bow, “I apologize for the misunderstanding. My army will be gone by sundown.” He took Judge Elizabeth’s hand between his own. “Welcome to the Alliance. I’m sure you will have much to offer.”
Spinning on his heel, Prince Valdor marched away with his nose in the air. Chief Krom was given an escort to the city gates by the Galatian soldiers.
“Prince Valdor seems like a good guy,” Josie commented to Lars as they watched him go.
“His words do not match the loathing he feels towards us,” Lars said.
“How do you know the loathing wasn’t for the Bulwarks?” Josie asked.
“It was strongest whenever Judge Elizabeth or General Red spoke.”
“Can’t trust anybody,” Josie said with a sour frown as the crowd was breaking up, and the leaders were returning to the battle field to pack up and go home. “Future Earth sucks.”
“But we won, Josie. We won.”
“I know,” she said. “But somehow it feels disappointing.”
“We have a permanent home now. What else could you possibly want?”
“Fireworks. Definitely fireworks. And a great big party with streamers, candles, chocolate cake, potato chips and music. A game of pin-the-tail on the snuffy would be fun, too.”
“Sounds nice, but right now I’d settle for a bath and a week in bed.”
“Do you think they’ll give us medals?” Josie said. “After all, we did save Galatia.”
Lars smiled, pulled her into his arms, and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “I’d rather have a house for me and my fiancé.”
Although she hadn’t forgotten Lars’s marriage proposal, it had been given when they were minutes away from death. Now that there were years of commitment stretching out into an unknown future, she suddenly felt afraid.
“Uh, well, it was all so spur-of-the-moment, there wasn’t even a ring to make the engagement official. Since we escaped and all, I just kind of figured that the marriage was off.”
His face fell and his arms slipped from around her, so she backtracked.
“What I mean is—now that we have more time to think things through more clearly-- maybe we should slow down and make sure this is really what...”
“Stop, I know what you mean,” he retorted angrily. “Now, that we’re home, you want to keep your options open. I’m sure Isaiah will be glad.”
“What does he have to do with anything? It’s just that there’s so much going on right now, so much to do. Galatia is going to need a lot of nurturing is she’s to survive. And I want to be part of that, Lars. Don’t you?”
“The girl who rushes into everything headfirst, to hell with the ramifications, is suddenly cautious?”
“My mom has been married four times. I don’t want to make the same mistakes.”
“Hasn’t everything we’ve been through proven that we can serve Galatia better together than apart? You’re the woman with all the ideas, Josie. I’m the man who makes sure you live long enough to see them through. You’re the enthusiasm, I’m the caution flag. You’re the one who looks ahead, I’m the one who’s got your back. Without me, you wouldn’t have completed the mission. Without you, there would have been no mission in the first place. How can you turn your back on me—your other half?”
“Lars, when I see the future, I only see you. Can’t that be enough for now?”
“Hey,” Gizmo said, walking past them, cradling his broken projector. One lens of his glasses was shattered, the eye beneath blackened, as the bent frames hung crooked on his nose. “How about helping me get my equipment off the rooftop before it rains?”
Chapter Fifty-One
(Larsen Drey Steelsun)
Josie, Lars and Gizmo spent an hour carrying equipment down from the rooftop back to a warehouse two blocks away. As the morning continued to break, the Allied troops outside of the city started disbanding. The city began to stretch and yawn as if waking up from a drubbing, still sore and beaten, but happy to be alive. People were hurrying up and down the streets, some with stressed expressions, while others were jubilant. The threesome had just dropped off a load of electronics and were making their last trip up to the rooftop, when their former gym teacher stopped them on the sidewalk. The man ate, breathed, and shit sports.
“Most of the troops are leaving now, so you best get going or you will be left behind.” Mr. Shively squinted hard at Lars and Josie as if struggling to place their names. “Oh, pardon my mistake, at a glance I thought you were warriors from the Alliance.”
“Nope. You used to be my gym teacher, Mr. Shively.”
“Loppy—Loppy Lars—the kid with the bum shoulder?” His eyes lit in recognition. “No way! Last time I talked to you, you could barely hold a shovel.”
“I filled out,” Lars said coldly.
“Wow,” his teacher said, backing up to take a better look, “that’s an understatement. Did either of you get an angelic sword?”
Josie shook her head.
“Don’t feel bad, most people didn’t get one.” Mr. Shively patted the angelic sword at his side. “They only went to the best and the brightest.”
Josie curled a fist and took a step forward. Lars threaded his fingers between the fingers of her free hand and held her back.
They left Mr. Shively and went on to carry the last of Gizmo’s equipment to the warehouse, which was filled with tall wooden shelves stacked with odds and ends from the bunker. Big windows lined the top of the building, letting the late-morning sun cast everything in warm amber light.
Gizmo was there ensuring everything got returned to the proper place—he was a stickler that way. He indicated the shelf where Lars was to place the speaker he was holding. In the process of scooting it into place, whatever was on the other side of the shelf, crashed to the floor.
“Hey, stupid,” he heard a cantankerous voice from the other side. “You better not have broken this thing.”
“Is that you Grandpa?”
“Lars?” Grandpa shot up in surprise to peer at him through the other side of the shelf. “There you are. Your mom and grandma have been looking all over for you. They were getting really mushy, crying and shit, I could hardly stand it. Is that why you’re hiding out here?”
“I’m not hiding.”
Grandpa came around the corner, holding a Geiger counter. “Ah, there it goes, about 0.05. Good.”
Josie approached with a box of gadgets from the roof. “Where do you want them, Giz?” The Geiger counter suddenly started to crackle, the needle shooting up to the 300 range.
Grandpa’s eyes widened.
“Set that box down,” he ordered. “Something in there is radioactive.”
Josie dropped it and backed away.
Lars and Gizmo took several steps back as Grandpa brought the Geiger’s wand to the box, hov
ering over it. “Huh,” Grandpa said, wearing a puzzled expression. “The reading is normal again. Maybe this thing is broken after all.”
“Whew,” Josie said. “I’d hate to be carrying something radioactive.”
“Bring the box over to that table.” When Josie set the box down, the Geiger went off again. Grandpa’s eyes widened. The closer he brought the wand to Josie, the more it crackled, the higher the reading. “Slowly back away from the wand,” he told her.
She did so and the reading lowered again. Her face paled. Lars held his breath, a sick feeling coming over him.
Grandpa waved the wand over her entire body and the radiation counter went wild when it got to the Seeker of the Four Winds. He lifted it from the Seeker, and the sound diminished.
“Get it off!” she said, clawing at it like a poison snake. “For the love of God, get it off me!”
Lars stood there helpless, remembering how nothing and nobody had managed to cut through the chain holding the pendant to her wrist. She took out her dagger, frantically trying to cut it away, slicing up her arm in the process. Lars took hold of both her wrists, refusing to let her injure herself further.
“Shhh,” He kissed the top of her head. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
She pushed him so hard he stumbled into one of the shelves. “Get away from me. I don’t want you to get irradiated too!”
“Calm down, girl,” Grandpa snarled. “You ain’t dead yet, so quit your yammering and let me cut it off of you.”
Holding her arm straight out, she let Grandpa wiggle his blade beneath the chain. Everyone watched in fascination as the empty blade filled with veins of glistening red liquid.
“How are you doing that?” For a moment, Josie’s awe beat back her fear of radiation. “Is that really your blood and soul like Red said?”
“I think so,” Grandpa said.
“Does it hurt?” Lars wanted to know.
Seeker of the Four Winds: A Galatia Novel Page 33