Very little was known about the sixth dimension. During the chaos that had followed the severing of the links with Azura the knowledge of how to maintain the original Aurigan records had been lost. Even copies made with different technology had degraded. The general assumption was that using vastly superior technology the Auriganii had linked access to the records to the amount of activated DNA segments. As if saying to the Tazii that with only three segments they did not have the maturity to handle what the Auriganii needed twelve to create.
His memory threw up a recall of an HWFantasy series where the sixth dimension was used as a time corridor, enabling the actors to travel into the past and the future, and then step into another spatial dimension. Was there a neutrino of truth in that? If so, no wonder the Auriganii had ensured that secrets like that were concealed from the less advanced Tazii.
With a sigh he eased himself out of the lotus position, stood in front of Belayyel, his large crystal, bowed his head in thanks, and watched as its support base of black velvet petals closed over it. He removed his short, cream coloured mediation robe and donned his normal, full length robe of Gelele Silk, infusing it with his usual deep, sea green colour. He left his meditation room and settled in his study.
Since a young man he had dreamt of being in a position where he could enable the Tazii to recover their twelve segments and rebuild the wonder and beauty of the pure Aurigan life when all were, literally, of one mind. As he had risen rapidly through the ranks of Custodians, to his surprise he had discovered that the absence from Tazian culture of any form of leadership even applied to the long succession of Arch Custodians. As with the rest of Vertazia, everything was done by the incredibly slow process of consensus. If he was to achieve his dream, that had to be changed.
The violent attacks on their four friends had not been well received by the members of the Senate whose energy had been drawn upon. He was concerned that he had gone too far in seeking to prevent any communication with the twins. Fortunately, his most loyal supporters, the much older pair-bonded Venerables, Gentian and Midnight, were steadfast in their support. They had seen the changes wrought in successive men and women when they emerged from their period if induction as Arch Custodian. Each one’s energy signature clearly revealing that they were carrying a heavy burden, a burden which was never discussed. Nor had Dryddnaa flinched from her active part. He would seek to excuse what had been done as the reaction to an extreme emergency. Better plans would be implemented for the future and, he sternly reminded himself, he had to be more cautious. He eased himself back in his chair and reassured himself by reviewing what he had achieved.
He had always enjoyed his visits to the Custodians’ meeting place at IndluKoba. It was an extensive country estate that attracted both Kumelanii and less committed Traditionalists to research, study and holiday in an atmosphere of beauty, peace and serenity. Apart from a small management group of much older Tazii, the majority of staff were in their second Eras. Most of them working part-time.
Many Tazii chose the centre of Traditionalist teachings for the three key rebirthday ceremonies. The presentation of the EraBand at age twelve, the attunement of the crystal at age fourteen, and at twenty-four the induction into the ethos of collective adulthood. Most parents accepted the offer of a Custodian to be present at such ceremonies. Ceegren had been accorded the status of Elder at the earliest possible age of one hundred and twenty. He smiled to himself at how the parents of the children he had carefully selected expressed their gratitude and feelings of being honoured when, with his exalted status, he personally offered to participate in a ceremony.
His conscience pricked him a little as he acknowledged that what he had done had been a touch underhand. He had subtly introduced into each youngster’s mind a commitment to himself. Although that was perfectly concealed, he had fully complied with Tazian values. The commitment was only to himself as The Embodiment of Traditionalist Values. Were Ceegren to depart from those values, not only would the link be severed, he would incur a negative reaction. The longer the link had been in place and the wider his divergence from those values, the greater would be the damage from that reaction.
Since his elevation to Arch Custodian twelve years ago he had taken one further step to ensure loyalty. Whilst attending the adulthood ceremonies of carefully selected youngsters he had inserted into their minds a discrete and perfectly concealed layer. That layer contained routines that allowed for the new adult’s inner development to proceed in spite of the surface inhibitions. It also permitted him to remove those inhibiting routines at any time he chose, along with an automatic reinforcement of the adult’s commitment to himself.
Had he been wrong to do all that? He shook his head. Leadership. Strong, determined, focussed leadership was essential if the Tazii were to pull out of their slow and otherwise inevitable journey towards extinction.
All he needed was a small group totally committed to him with the abundant dynamic energy of their youth focussed on communicating a simple message. That energy sweeping through the farthest reaches of the MentaNet would spread like a seed crystal dropped into a supersaturated solution. As that was happening he would remove the restrictions imposed on those adults he had selected. Their particular energy spreading through the MentaNet would enliven those older adults who had commitments to him buried within their psyches.
He nodded to himself. All that still held good. Yet his plans had received an unexpected setback. The Acolyte he had been training to become the youth leader so essential to his plans had been Xaala’s older brother. In three years’ time he would have been at the perfect age: approaching the end of his second era when he would move from being a twiyera to an adult.
Now, doubts crept in. His planning had been good, but he really needed those three extra years to condition more youngsters, more new adults, and find a charismatic leader. Although he would review the youngsters at IndluKoba, he already knew there was no-one suitable.
Should he ease back and wait until Tibor, his younger Acolyte, was ready? That would be another six or seven years and give him the time to condition many more youngsters and new adults. He rose from his chair, slid his hands into the wide sleeves of his robe and walked to the window. He quieted his thoughts by looking at the night sky with its myriad stars lighting the blanket of snow. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of movement. Turning his head he saw a large, Horned Snow Owl rise back up out of the shadow of an outbuilding with a tiny animal in its beak.
He bowed his head as he thanked the All for the answer.
Could Xaala be manipulated? Did he have a choice? His Acolyte possessed many excellent qualities. Mentally and psychically the best he had ever trained she was totally committed both to him personally and to the teachings, and of her own free will. She was nearly seventeen years old. A little over two metres in height, with a figure more like a skinny boy than a girl, and a sharp mind, she was not his image of the sort of female to whom people would warm.
She would have to become more feminine. Fortunately, he had never interfered with her mind in any permanent way. To have the charisma, the personality of an inspirational leader she had to be natural. There could not be the slightest hint of any overriding mental controls.
Dryddnaa would have to prepare her, and that meant giving the Chief Readjuster an even more powerful place within his plans. It was clear that Dryddnaa had her own plans and was building a power base within the Inner Council of the Senate. This really was the Dance of Discovery. He was going to need all his skills to ensure he remained in command.
With his decision made he felt the tension drain from him. He was tired and needed to relax and have his energy level restored. Amongst her many skills Xaala provided an excellent aura massage. He would avail himself of her services and gently explore his, he indulged a smile, their, next step.
CHAPTER 35
A TALL STORY
FINLAND
Qwelby was having a nightmare. It had started as a pleasant dreamsta
te, riding a comet to Earth and looking at scenery from close-up, meeting an Earth boy and being taken to his home. But then he was sliding down an icy slope and attacked by a group of men. His eyes flicked open. Where was Tullia? He rolled over. She was not there. There was no other bed. This was not their attic suite. This was not… It had not been a dream! He was on Earth. He had been attacked. He had defended himself, feeling movements from Tamina’s Body Dance.
He jerked up into a sitting position. That was not dancing! Well it was. But it was… halfway to a WarriorDance. He knew, had known, how to do a WarriorDance. So, the energy was being kept alive? No. Tullia had dragged himself and Wrenden to more than one display. There had been no overt combat sensation. Of course not! The perpetrators would have been dealt with, ‘stamped on’ was a thought that slipped across the back his mind, by the Readjusters.
‘Ah!’ He grabbed his head as it filled with pain. A constant stream of tiny explosions. He lay back, feeling too sick and dizzy to move. The full memory of the previous evening returned. He was on Earth. Safe. Where was Kaigii?
Slowly, the pain lessened as the myriad of pinpricks in his brain reduced, leaving him with a dull ache. When that had gone, he got up and found the door locked. With all the feelings of being cared for that he had received the previous evening he thought that was nice: to stop him sleepwalking. He slid his mind into the lock. Exploring it was difficult. Third/fourth dimension. Same quantum energy that underpins the whole of existence, but overlaid with slower and denser vibrations. This is going to take a lot of effort. But. A bonus. Not imbued with extra inertia as at home.
Stepping out of the room he found what was clearly a washing room, washed, then dressed in the clothes that had been left at the side of the bed. He went downstairs and entered the kitchen just in time to hear Anita, who was just finishing explaining her dream, ask in a puzzled tone of voice: ‘Why do I dream of a desert when I don’t believe it is a desert?’
There was no reply as all eyes turned to Qwelby. In the silence that followed he had time to explore the Azurii’s weak energy fields. He saw surprise, curiosity and an absence of any indications of violence.
‘How did you open the door?’ Paavo asked.
‘With my mind,’ Qwelby answered.
‘How do you feel?’ Hannu asked quickly to divert attention. What other tricks could “his Alien” perform?
‘I not here,’ Qwelby replied.
‘What d’you mean?’ Hannu asked.
‘Tullia. Twin. Not in head. I not…’ he gestured with his hands.
‘Whole. Complete?’ Anita offered.
Feeling bereft and lost, Qwelby nodded. His compiler had not translated the words, but Anita’s mind had been clear with what she was trying to convey.
Seija got up, put an arm around Qwelby and guided him to a chair.
He smiled at her as he sat down. She had responded exactly as his mother would. It was to be a long time before he discovered that his strong thoughts and feelings affected the Azurii without their being consciously aware of it, and to the extent that most responded accordingly.
‘Where on Earth am I?’ he asked.
Stifled laughter made him frown.
‘Oh, Qwelby,’ Hannu said. ‘“Where on earth am I,” is just what we’d say.’
Qwelby smiled. The more he was continuing to experience the same warm energies that he had felt the previous night, the more he relaxed. ‘Where on Earth am I,’ he repeated, mimicking Hannu’s inflection.
‘In Finland,’ Hannu answered with a laugh.
‘I not have bag,’ Qwelby said. ‘I have planet. It is Earth.’
Hannu leapt up from the table and dashed up to his room.
‘Did you sleep well?’ Seija asked.
‘I dream. I wake. Head hurts. I good.’
‘You must be hungry. Here, drink this whilst I get you something to eat.’
‘Thank you.’ Feeling so much calmer than the previous evening, he was able to take in her energies. Of medium height and a comfortable build, like her husband she radiated a practical energy. Caring and concerned, was the big feel he received. That she did not come across as harassed like his own mother made him feel sad. He would much rather have his mother fussing over him than be on this strange planet.
Hannu came thundering back downstairs, clutching the bag which he thrust at Qwelby in his excitement.
Smiling, Qwelby opened it, took out what looked like a child’s multi-coloured ball and handed it to Hannu.
With excited exclamations, Hannu turned it around in his hands as Anita peered over his shoulder.
‘It’s a map of Earth!’ Anita exclaimed. ‘Look Qwelby, this is Finland,’ she said, pointing with her fingernail. ‘And we live just about here, in the south.’
In between mouthfuls of what he was told was porridge with butter and raspberry jam, tastes not that dissimilar to what he might have had at home, Qwelby explained how he and Tullia had found the globe when it was inside-out.
‘Did you know it was a map of Earth?’ Anita asked.
Qwelby shook his head, swallowed and answered with a look almost of horror on his face. ‘No! We not dare. Or be stuck inside.’
‘What!’ exclaimed Hannu, in an incredulous tone of voice.
‘Oh, yes. Imagination very powerful in quantum world,’ was the solemn reply. ‘In my language, word for imagination is image–in–action.’ He smiled, sadly. ‘Translate into Finnish. I see does not work.’
‘Mum would like that,’ Anita said, thinking that her mother would want to meet Qwelby just as much as her father did.
‘That’s neat though,’ Hannu said, telling him different words. ‘It does work in English. That’s a language a lot of people on Earth speak.’
‘That’s all very well,’ interjected Seija. ‘I’ve work to do. Shoo, upstairs you lot.’
Ensconced in Hannu’s room, the three youngsters spent the rest of the morning looking at books, searching the internet and teaching Qwelby Finnish. Thanks to Gumma’s compiler, he was soon able to communicate very well.
As he finally finished his explanation of how he and Tullia had left Vertazia, and he had arrived on Earth, the two Finns were stunned into incredulity.
Qwelby was feeling a lot happier. At least his new friends understood what he had told them. He didn’t blame then for not really believing him, he scarcely believed it himself. What was equally good was the compiler that Gumma had given him was working. Not merely building a language database in his mind, but providing him with grammar and syntax.
Between them, the two Finns told Qwelby all about CERN, giving him every hope that his twin also was on Earth.
‘Anita. Your father’s here,’ they heard Mrs Rahkamo call.
The three youngsters went downstairs to the kitchen to find both Rahkamos were there with her father.
‘Hullo Anita,’ Dr Keskinen said as he kissed his daughter, looking past her to the boy with the unusual face.
‘Dad, may I present Qwelby who comes from a world called Vertazia. Qwelby, this is my father, Dr Viljo Keskinen.’
Qwelby offered his hand. Anita’s father responded automatically, and was surprised to hear: ‘Goood ev-en-ing, Faa-ther of An-ita,’ said with a perfect, albeit musical, Finnish accent.
Hannu and Anita laughed. After all, it was exactly how they had taught Qwelby to greet Hannu’s father.
Viljo let go of Qwelby’s hand and frowned. The previous night he had been told that the alien looked like a human boy. Now, seeing him and hearing him speak, he was inclined to think that this was no alien but someone from the Far East, and his friends had been taken in by a cunning boy with a very tall story.
A timer bleeped to say lunch was almost ready.
‘We must go,’ said Viljo, looking at his daughter. ‘You can come back afterwards if…’
Paavo cut him off. ‘Please, both of you come back.’
‘I hoped you’d say that,’ Viljo said. There was a puzzle. He wanted both to solve it and
help his friends.
Seija had just finished clearing away when Viljo and his daughter returned. She directed Anita upstairs and her father to join Paavo in the living room. The kitchen empty, she lent against a worktop to steady herself as everything that had happened in less than twenty-four hours welled its way through her mind. For a moment, she was at a loss what to do. She didn’t want to join the men. Their talk would be all too technical and complicated. An intuition popped into her mind, she liked it. She wrapped up warm and went out to visit Taimi Keskinen, Anita’s mother.
‘Qwelby, you’ve explained how you and Tullia left Vertazia. Please tell us about your friends,’ Anita said as they entered Hannu’s room. ‘And Tullia,’ she added with a shy smile.
As his rich baritone rolled around the room, Qwelby was soon back home, vividly describing his world as he took them on a guided tour and introduced them to the Fearless Four, wondering why he had used that old name. If Hannu and Anita noticed words in Tazian, they were too enthralled to ask for translation.
Eventually, Qwelby ran out of breath and leant against the wardrobe for support.
There was a long silence.
All Anita’s senses were awhirl. It was so like the first snowfall when Hannu had invited her to his home. With both of them cold and wet, in typical Finnish manner, his mother had bundled them into the sauna, then given them hot chocolate whilst Anita’s clothes dried.
Once up in his room, Hannu had paced around, telling her all about his dreams of space travel and meeting a race of peaceful aliens, and what humans could learn from them. Out of breath, he had finished leaning against the wardrobe.
Finding someone of her own age she felt an affinity with, she had confessed that she had always been a loner, more interested in her schoolwork or studying science with her father or more subtle energies with her mother.
Later, they had stood in silence at the window watching a heavy snowfall, his arm around her shoulders, her arm around his waist.
Just then his father had come home with some friends. Realising it was late, and daringly for fear of spoiling what had been a special day, she had given Hannu a quick kiss on the cheek, and gone home.
Ripped Apart: Quantum Twins – Adventures On Two Worlds Page 24