by JB Penrose
“He didn’t say us,” Iscar sneered, “he said – Gideon, stop.” It felt good to pin his fears on someone else’s action. “I told you when Kerroon tried to prevent the Spokesmon’s regeneration to the ship it was Gabriel who held him back.”
Gideon sat in silence, clearly shaken by the actions of his brother. Iscar knew part of his silence was embarrassment – but Iscar projected that feeling into the group as suspicion.
Kerroon’s arrival in Delphi was inevitable, but it wouldn’t be quick. All Iscar could count on was to delay Kerroon’s appearance until after the banquet. He was sure by that time the Spokesmon would realize her rightful place in Delphi, and his rightful place beside her.
“We must do whatever it takes to ensure the Spokesmon’s safety in Delphi,” he told them, “and the only thing that threatens us is Kerroon’s arrival.”
“They’ll have to cross water to get here,” Dorcus volunteered. “We could strand them somewhere for a few days.”
“We’d have to be fast, and solid.” Shae passed a mental picture of a water-wall among them.
Iscar shook his head. He did not want to expose the divine protection the crew had felt through their immortal lives. “The hovercraft could rise above any force of nature you could manufacturer, and certainly Gabriel would sense the Seven’s power growing in intensity.”
“We could stop the mechanical object they're in,” Ariesh suggested. “Maybe we could create a mechanical malfunction with the craft. It’s something Gabriel wouldn’t look for.”
“But that might hurt Gabriel, too,” Gideon objected instantly.
“Which is why you should probably sit outside the Seven for now,” Iscar told him. “We can’t afford to give them advance warning, whatever we chose.” It was difficult for Iscar not to project the resentment of his brother’s behavior toward Gideon, but it did make him feel better.
“I would risk my life for the Spokesmon’s protection,” Gideon affirmed.
“Which is why you shouldn’t even think about this conversation,” Iscar instructed. “Your brother’s motives are in question, not your own.”
The group shifted uncomfortably as Gideon stood. After a moment’s hesitation, he left without another comment.
“We’ve never inflicted harm into a situation before this.” Tuk Doui seemed apprehensive about the intention.
“Septorian?” Shae posed the question they were all thinking. “I’m sure that was the Oracle, but was I seeing the present or the future?”
“I told you Kerroon was on his way to Delphi. Obviously, your vision is of the future; we must assume he comes to steal the Oracle as well as take the Spokesmon away.” Iscar broadcasted a feeling of danger to the Seven. “We knew he would be a formidable opponent.”
“Do you really think Gabriel is helping him?”
“That is a question best left unanswered,” Iscar told them, “but we need to be prepared for anything that comes our way, including Gabriel.”
“It will be more than a week before they can get here from PROBE-Tech.” Shae tried to project her false calm around the room at Iscar’s silent urging.
“By then Delphi will have welcomed the Spokesmon into the family, and she will deal with their arrival. It’s our duty’ to be prepared for her command.” Iscar needed a plan.
The Spokesmon was here, and Kerroon was there. The longer he kept them apart, the more clearly he was the winner.
The bath was as refreshing as she’d hoped and there was a variety of items to wear in the wardrobe. The cobalt blue tunic Rachel selected was beautiful, similar to her choice from the ship’s wardrobe, but sewn from a soft fabric she couldn’t identify. The elaborate embroidery at the seams shined with golden braids, and as she moved, she noticed golden threads woven in patterns within the cloth. She singled a cord from her belt and tied it around her hair, then sat on the edge of the bed to put on the soft leather boots. It was difficult to admit, even to herself, but she was excited to explore her surroundings.
The lights in the kitchen brightened as she entered and revealed spacious countertops, even a replicator unit. Glasses, plates, pans, it was a modern kitchen, simple, yet cozy. The necessary items had been supplied, but great steps had been taken to not inject a personality or style to any part of the apartment. She nodded with appreciation at the variety of foods she inventoried on the shelves and in bins. If she was in Delphi long enough her cooking might even improve.
Her heart pinged when she saw a small table with two chairs. Everything here reminded her of Peter – although the chair facing her was probably placed there for Iscar. The sigh that escaped was the helplessness she felt to reconcile that both men had a place in her life. They would have to come to terms with that fact themselves; Rachel could not erase overnight the animosity they had built up over two thousand years.
She entered the common room where she first arrived and saw the silver tray where Mother Star had left it. How did she know? Rachel brought the cup to her lips. Coffee in all forms, hot or cold, was her worst addiction.
She recalled Iscar’s surprised expression when Mother Star entered the room. Anyone that could baffle Iscar like that was certainly someone Rachel wanted to know better.
The main room had a desk set up with an active computer. Each level of Delphi was mapped on the screen. The diagram outlined the Kabala Tree of Life, using Malkuth, the location of the mammoth frozen waterfall as the final destination.
Touching locations on the diagram brought up a picture and relevant information such as the history of building, purpose of use, and whether it was residential or craft designated. It also specified the composite of the rock and minerals in that area.
Rachel was glad she had an independent source to learn about Delphi. She discovered no connection outside of Delphi to contact Peter or her parents. Still, Rachel was sure Iscar had a way to reach the outside world.
She continued to peruse the computer with distraction until she realized the world she researched was actually outside her door. Thinking she had enough information to explore it on her own, she decided to start with the Arrival Room; according to the map it was across from her quarters.
As soon as she stepped outside the residence, whispers called to her like voices on the breeze. The hallway was dimly lit with a golden amber coming from the Mammoth Falls where she had regenerated from Septor-1. The hall continued past the Falls, and Rachel intuitively understood it led to Iscar’s residence.
She followed the whispers inside the Arrival Room. Automatic lighting brightened as she entered, with technology that seemed out of place in an underground city. The cavern was beautifully sculpted with natural stone columns and furnished with a few small benches cut into cubbies within the stone walls.
Rachel immediately sensed someone watching from overhead, and though lifelike, she was relieved to find it was a fresco on the stone ceiling that loomed over her. A burst of excitement pushed her up a set of stairs carved outward from the wall, and winded, Rachel stopped to catch her breath. Peering over the balcony made her dizzy, looking down was as breathtaking as looking up.
She gripped the banister just to study the painting on the ceiling, searching for clues to the artist. It was a remarkable style, alive with exquisite detail and colors. It would have taken incredible scaffolding to elevate the artist into this chimney area. Peter would appreciate the artwork more so than the subject matter.
The mural pictured Jesus and Iscar talking intently as they walked down a long road that trailed off into the ceiling’s darkness. Their path was lined with flowers and fruits that looked ripe enough to pick. Teacher and Student, she realized. One had never aged, and one died too soon.
Jesus had a loving smile for Iscar and the Student had a look of promise in his eyes. Rachel tried to imagine the conversation between them, desperate to know the secrets Jesus told Iscar about the Spokesmon, and the reasons she would need a place like Delphi to assist her.
The voices came to her again, calling names, wh
ispering faintly. They were distant but present, and she felt them - more than she heard them with her ears. It compelled her to explore further and this time she descended the steps slowly to fully appreciate the room’s secrets. She found an opening, a crack in the rock that she slipped through into a much larger room from where the whispers were calling.
All around her, names were etched on the stone walls from ceiling to floor, each unique with different languages and handwriting; each inscription a piece of Delphi’s history. The list wrapped around corners, filling every carvable wall space like graffiti.
She recognized the succession and extinction of different civilizations. The range of citizens Delphi had entrusted with her secret was amazing. Some names had a symbol besides the listing. It was a rare marking; she understood how few had been born in Delphi.
This room was a charter of the people that arrived before her; those who came to build a city in her honor before they even knew of the Spokesmon or the Awakening. Rachel wondered how they found Delphi, why they came and why they stayed; ultimately, she wondered what she was most afraid to ask, What do they expect from me?
As Rachel passed her hand over an inscription, she heard that person’s name and voice in her mind. They spoke of themselves in a chorus of languages and she understood each one. It was like an introduction to invisible friends; she walked around the room, swiping full sections of walls. There was music within the sound of their names and Rachel felt at peace with their presence. Although they weren’t her own thoughts, it was the only room where she felt a presence at all, and after centuries of being sensitive to everyone around her, Rachel had an appreciation for the way this room filled the silence of Delphi.
She found Iscar’s name at the center of the room. “Judas Iscariot.” The moment she heard the announcement in Hebrew she retracted her hand. It was easy enough to let the others come to her; they were dead and she didn’t fear them. But, and she realized as she said it, she was afraid of Iscar!
The admission made her defiant and she forced her hand to scan his name again. “Judas Iscariot”. She reminded herself that he was pledged to service of the Spokesmon; she scanned his name again. “Judas Iscariot.” And again, “Judas Iscariot” until it sounded like any other name in the room. Satisfied, she was finally ready to move on.
Curious now, Rachel looked for Mother Star’s name. She held out both hands and scanned the signatures hurriedly, but nowhere did she find the inscription. Listening intently, she could not identify a whisper that sounded like Mother Star’s voice.
With an inward sigh, Rachel had to acknowledge the culmination of events that led her to this moment. Not just to being here in Delphi, but of what the Spokesmon was to accomplish. If an entire society had been created and pledged to that purpose, she felt an obligation to understand where she was taking them – and herself. It was a question that was constantly perched on the edge of her mind, but in the peace and quiet that Delphi offered she thought she might actually find the answer.
Rachel received a mental image of Iscar waiting to talk to her in the main room of her residence. She hoped he didn’t think that she’d been calling him from the name room, and suddenly she was embarrassed at having scanned his name so many times. But, as tempted she was to ignore him, she also didn’t want him waiting around for her. Someday they would have to have a real conversation; she couldn’t put it off forever.
Rachel took a last look around the room. There was no doubt Iscar had created something the Delphian’s respected, but respect was something Iscar would still have to earn from her.
“What do you think so far?” Iscar offered a fresh cup of coffee when she entered. “About Delphi, I mean.”
“What am I supposed to think?” Rachel took the cup as a matter of courtesy, but she smelled the contents and smiled.
“I remembered Mother Star said you liked coffee. We have some very exotic blends I think you’ll enjoy,” Iscar told her. “I enjoy an occasional cup myself.”
“She was right about the coffee.”
“I’m glad I listened. She’s accused me often enough of not doing so.”
“She looked familiar to me, Mother Star. Do you think I might be able to talk to her again?”
Iscar was glad something was finally familiar to the Spokesmon, but he shook his head. “Mother Star has a life of her own in Delphi. She comes and goes as needed, or as she pleases. I shouldn’t have been surprised when she came in earlier; she’s waited a long time for the Spokesmon’s arrival.” He put his cup down. “Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?”
She frowned. “No, I found everything – in here. And the computer program was helpful. I’ll be quite comfortable. I’m just uncomfortable with the circumstances.”
Iscar shrugged. “I can try to explain, again, but it-”
“I know,” Rachel interrupted, “Delphi is for the Spokesmon. However, the Spokesmon,” she emphasized, “would really have preferred to come by my own choosing, and with Peter.”
Iscar sat on the sofa with a tired look about him. “We both know Kerroon is on his way,” he confessed. “I’m not foolish enough to think otherwise.”
Rachel was inwardly pleased he recognized the inevitability of Peter’s arrival and she relaxed enough to sit in the chair opposite him.
“Were you in the Arrival Room?” Iscar asked. “It was the first cavern cleared. As I’ve said – there’s more to Delphi than-” he motioned around, “this.”
“I understand that,” she said. “The room was very – interesting. I could tell that Delphi’s citizens arrived from many places, and from many time periods. I agree that Delphi is special,” she looked directly at him to wait for his agreement. “But before I venture out into this city you’ve built in my honor, I’d like to know just what’s expected of me?”
A little gratitude was his first thought, but Iscar kept his thought private. She will know her place in Delphi soon enough, he was sure.
“We expect nothing from you. We are here to do what you expect from us. This is your city. You are the Spokesmon!”
“And you’re the Septorian. I’m sure that means something?”
“As Septorian I am only their guide, a title that means nothing. I am your servant.” He paused, but Rachel only nodded. “Delphi,” he continued, “all that you see and more that you haven’t. It was built for the Awakening - so that you could not be challenged for the seat of your power.”
“And who said I wanted power?” She replaced her cup on the tray and re-arranged the items absent-mindedly, not looking at him.
“It’s not what you want, I can see that. You’re just like Jesus in that way.” He laughed at the memory of similar conversations between them but when she turned sharply to face him, he smiled at her. “You’re uncomfortable because you don’t know me. I am not the villain Reider and Kerroon would have you think. I only ask for the opportunity to show you.”
“The preconceived ideas I have of you are from the bombing at the OneWorld Conference and knowing of your involvement with Frank Morrow,” she said coldly.
“It’s unfortunate to have to associate with the likes of Morrow, or to perform the types of deeds necessary to make this moment in time happen.” He had been forced to take risks in areas Delphi hadn’t been exposed before. “But I could not, nor would not change one step that has brought me to this point.”
She took a deep breath and nodded, more so to herself than him.
“I have agreed to see what it is you will show me, and I’ll even admit to being interested, but I also have a lot of questions. Maybe it would help me to know when you first heard about Delphi.”
“I didn’t know it would turn out like Delphi is now, but it was Jesus who gave me the first instructions to build a city for the Spokesmon.”
“And why do you think he chose you?”
There was a hint of challenge in her voice; Iscar had heard it from others. “Jesus told me I was the only one with the strength to do what had to be do
ne.”
“To build Delphi?”
“That,” he sighed. “And more.” After centuries of explaining his motive, he was tired of trying to outrun his reputation. “I was the only one who would expose him to the priests. He made me do it to protect our true identity, but specifically - to protect your mother.”
His voice might have carried a little more of an edge than he intended but Rachel didn’t seem to notice.
“I understand.” She closed her eyes and he saw her relax. Iscar hoped her doubt was finally erased.
“Thank you, Spokesmon. All of Delphi is excited about your arrival,” Iscar noted. “I feel like I should leave you to rest.”
“Yes, it’s been a – busy day.” She sat up and folded her hands in her lap. “I think tomorrow we should start fresh.”
“I would appreciate that,” Iscar confirmed. “And I think you’ll be ready to see what Delphi offers.”
Iscar wasn’t sure which news was worse, Donnally’s silence, Gabriel’s complicity, or that the Spokesmon didn’t seem to know about the Awakening. At the least, he didn’t think she had a clue about her part in changing the world.
Iscar hoped when the Spokesmon saw Delphi and realized the unmatched support of having legions of psi-talents at her beck-and-call, that it would be the crowning moment to her plan for the Awakening. Delphi had prepared for a thousand years, and tomorrow night was just going to be a banquet?
Iscar sensed the Oracle’s familiar hum and relaxed into the pulsing beat of Delphi’s heart. It was a difficult relationship to explain, but it was a relationship. The crystal tasht had its own ideas and it communicated them to Iscar very clearly in his dreams and meditations. It drove him crazy, and it kept him sane.
The life of Judas had been a waking nightmare, always running one-step ahead of the priests’ soldiers or a township that had awakened to his Christian identity. But Judas Iscariot wasn’t his only persona. Long before he was Judas, scorned by all for actions he’d been forced to commit, he was Iscar, Communication and Science Officer aboard the Orygin, a stellar explorer from the region of Bi’atra-4. The fateful night they crashed to planet Earth - the night Jesus was born, had changed all of them. Now, finally, he was Iscar again, and Septorian of Delphi.