Island of Echoes

by Roman Gitlarz

  “But… how?” Daniel asked.

  “That part is a little more difficult to explain,” Rémy began.

  “Well try, for heaven’s sake!” Travert bellowed.

  “The King informed us that the storm we were in formed a bridge between two nearly identical worlds,” Ella explained calmly. “This sphere is a duplicate of our own, but neither in the past nor the future. We are still in the same place at the same time, just on a different Earth.”

  “Oh what devilry!” Daniel barked. “These people will say anything to keep us here.”

  “I thought the same, Father,” I stated, retaking my seat at the table. “However, I have no other way to explain all that has come to pass since our departure from Alexandria.”

  “And let me guess,” Daniel continued sarcastically, “there is no way of reopening this bridge of worlds?”

  “There is,” I informed him. “The sun storms. Unfortunately, they are very infrequent. The King told us that, on average, they occur only once in a lifetime.”

  Daniel huffed. “I think we should ask for repairs to your vessel, Captain, so that we may see this ‘other world’ for ourselves. This little show is not enough to pull the wool over my eyes.”

  Travert nodded. “I heartily agree, Father. If we are free to do as we please, then the request should be a simple one. We will leave these people to their own beliefs and devices.”

  “Then it’s decided,” Lady Pearson confirmed. “We will repair the ship and leave.”

  “And go where, grandmother?” Ella asked.

  The old woman looked upon her with confusion. “Home,” she said simply and took a sip of her juice.

  It was pointless to argue, and part of me agreed with the elders. Whatever the Capribian technology displayed, there was no getting around the fact that we simply needed to see it to believe it. And as excitement surpassed the sadness within my heart, I realized I very much wanted to believe it, though I had yet to discern why.

  Etia Sarmia came to visit us at the conclusion of breakfast. Given Daniel’s outburst the night before, I thought it best that our request should come from me. I pleaded her for assistance.

  “There is no need to explain,” she assured me. “I understand how you must feel. I would probably ask the same in your situation. We will repair your ship.”

  “I thank you, Etia,” I responded humbly.

  “Please, call me Sarmia,” she requested with a smile. Her beautiful white teeth sparkled in the light. “It may take us a few days to make the necessary repairs. In the meantime, I would very much like to teach you more about our world, if you so have the desire. “

  “What an extraordinary offer!” I burst. “I do, very much!”

  “Be wary, Mr. Laurence,” Daniel warned me as he got up from the dining table.

  “I’m a historian, Father,” I retorted, “It’s in my nature to seek out this kind of information. And an offer to teach me more about Capribo is hardly cause for concern.”

  “Is that what she offered?” Rémy perked up. “Perhaps you may ask if I can join as well?”

  “The language barrier may be difficult, but of course I’d be happy for you to join,” I answered enthusiastically.

  “Rémy does not speak the Latin tongue,” I told Sarmia, “but he would like to learn more about Capribo as well.”

  “Would he perhaps like to learn our language?” the advisor asked. “I can arrange for him to study it while you and I explore the Tower of Marble.”

  Rémy eagerly agreed and the advisor left the chamber. I was shaky with anticipation and equally overjoyed that at least one of my companions shared my enthusiasm. I could only imagine what secrets the tower possessed that I had yet to see.

  My group and I spent the next few hours separating our belongings into our respective rooms. My trunks were few, though a number of books which I had previously removed stood in a neat pile to their side. I brought these into the bedroom as well. With my hunger satisfied and my excitement brewing, it took all my reservation to sit still until Sarmia came to take me on my tour. I passed most of the time with the writing of these memoirs. It was beneficial to set them to paper before the details began to fade, and I very much wanted to capture my awe of those first few days on the island.

  The Etia returned with an assistant several hours later and escorted Rémy and me into the hallway. She pressed the wall square which called the lift.

  “This young man will escort Rémy, while you and I will head down to the main floor,” she explained.

  I nodded. “Rémy is very excited about his lessons.”

  I heard the grinding sound of sliding marble panels and saw that there was a second lift door farther down the hall. “That one is ours,” Sarmia informed me. I wished Rémy luck and followed my guide.

  The doors reopened on the main level, which I immediately recognized from the day before. This time, the great chamber was beautifully illuminated. I spotted the hall of green marble before me, which led to the towering bronze entry doors. I looked up at the high ceiling, able to discern all of the intricate details of the half-dome overhead. I turned and saw the same line of white marble statues behind me, their menacing stares from the shadows replaced by elegance and life-like craftsmanship. I was seeing the world of Capribo with renewed eyes.

  Halfway between the two lifts stood the entry to the throne room, the bronze doors ajar. Two guards stood from their cushioned chairs as we approached. Sarmia uttered a few words to them and we proceeded into the sister chamber alone.

  The awe of the throne room was in no way diminished by my knowledge of the island’s many wonders. The dance of simplicity and intricacy within the room was just as beautiful the second time around. Sarmia and I were completely alone, and I was free to explore to my heart’s desire. Unlike the day before, the room was now filled with many other chairs. They faced each other, rather like those of a theater with a central stage. But their mirrored arrangement was broken in the center not by a stage, but by a wide aisle leading to the throne.

  “Why are all of these chairs here?” I asked.

  “Court was held this morning,” Sarmia informed me. “The judges of the island sit here.”

  “I see, and what about the King?”

  “He directs the proceedings from the dais,” she acknowledged the step pyramid of gray stone at the other end.

  “So he is not the supreme judge of the land?” I asked, walking the perimeter of the chamber. I touched the silver accents at the base of the Corinthian columns. The stone appeared to be chiseled with a needle, so perfect were the carvings.

  “His official role is described as ‘Speaker and Organizer of the Chamber of Capribo,’” Sarmia expounded, “but the position has greatly evolved over the centuries. In modern times, he is equally a figurehead of morality.”

  “Morality? Then the King does not rule with absolute authority?” my voice echoed throughout the cavernous space.

  “Oh no,” Sarmia countered. “The monarchs do not rule the people. They must follow the same laws as everyone else. Officially, Eireas leads the government by coordinating hearings and monitoring the Chamber’s deliberations. His legal vote is worth only twelve percent of the total.”

  “And how many votes are there?” I asked.

  “In Capribo, there are fifty votes. One from each of the forty-four judges, and six additional votes from the crown. All major decisions are passed right here under this system.”

  “Fascinating,” I admitted. “And how are the judges chosen?”

  “They are elected, just as the King. Eleven judges from each of the four divisions.”

  “King Eireas is elected?!” my voice cracked with disbelief.

  “Oh yes,” Sarmia boasted. “Does your world still have hereditary monarchies? We discarded the system long ago.”

  “But Eireas is so young!” I observed.

  “He is twenty-eight,” the Etia informed me proudly. “But yes, he is the youngest ruler elected in nearly thr
ee hundred years.”

  I pondered the information as I approached one of the massive glass ribbons embedded into the stone wall of the tower. My finger followed the line where the two elements met. Sarmia walked up to the throne and entered a command into one of the electric squares embedded in the armrest. The great glass panel before me began to grind as it lifted up from the floor. A salty sea breeze entered the chamber as the glass rose slowly, leaving an eight-foot gap before finally ceasing its ascent.

  “Today is too wonderful to stay indoors,” Sarmia beamed. “Let us stroll through the gardens.”

  I followed her out onto the lawn and we walked amongst the trees. I heard the grinding of the glass panel as it slid shut behind us, but I had completely forgotten that its transparency was lost from the exterior. I watched what appeared to be a slice of gleaming silver metal slide back into place at the tower’s base.

  “Incredible” I breathed.

  Sarmia’s eyes twinkled as she watched me. “It is truly amazing to witness someone so taken with our world,” she professed. “You show me just how much is taken for granted in our daily lives, and for that I thank you.”

  “A few days ago, I was merely a man on his way home,” I declared. “I had spent a great deal of my life traveling the world and reading of its history, but not once did I stop to examine its true nature. In a few days’ time, you have given me more to think about than I can possibly express. For that, Sarmia, I thank you.”

  The young woman radiated happiness.

  We walked deeper into the foliage and I spotted countless flowers, statues, and benches ahead. The majority of the flat plain between the tower and the sea appeared to be a blissful garden. The preponderance of my time outdoors was spent asking questions. To her credit, Sarmia responded with enthusiasm and encouragement in every instance. We picked fruit from the trees for sustenance as I learned more about the structure of Capribian politics, the layout of the land, and even how the Tower of Marble came upon its name.

  “It was not originally covered in the silver skin,” the Etia informed me as we took respite on a bench nestled within a cluster of rhododendrons. “The exterior appeared as glass and marble until the metallic accent was added for the Tower’s one-hundredth anniversary, though it retained the original name. It is the tallest capital building in the world.”

  “How many capital buildings are there?” I asked before biting into a delicious apricot, which I had picked during our walk.

  “The Royal Republic of Capribo is only one state within our nation,” she explained. “There are fifteen in all, each with a capital city. But there is a capital for the entire nation as well. In fact, King Eireas is traveling there in two days’ time.”

  “And what is the nation’s capital?”

  “Alexandria.”

  I nearly choked on my apricot. “But that is where my companions and I departed from just days ago!” I exclaimed. “Would we be permitted to join the King on this journey? It may just be enough to convince my entire group of our predicament.”

  “I will speak with his highness this evening, but I don’t see why he should decline.”

  Sarmia escorted me back to the apartments and I was quick to relay the information to my companions. To my surprise, they were all eager to see Alexandria again, though I suspected the majority believed the ‘nonsense’ of information we were given would be disproved by the journey.

  The Capribian attendants once again provided us with a lavish meal for dinner. Rémy was still out of the apartment so we ate without him. Ella sat rather quietly opposite me at the table, though I caught her looking in my direction on several occasions. Her grandmother and the others talked amongst themselves of European politics as if they were back home and all was as it had always been.

  “How was your time with the advisor?” Ella finally asked me quietly.

  “Wonderful, thank you,” I answered politely. “There is so much to learn of this world and I hardly know which direction to turn to next.”

  “I am sure you learned a lot. She appears to be a well-educated woman… and you were gone for quite some time,” she looked down at her plate and took a small bite of broiled duck. I saw flushness in her cheeks and my heart began to beat faster.

  “Ella,” I whispered, “The advisor is an interesting woman to be sure, but she is not the one I would have preferred to spend time with this afternoon.”

  Her bright green eyes gazed up at me and the heat in her cheeks increased twofold.

  “Forgive me,” she whispered so quietly I could scarcely make out the words. “I have absolutely no right to be jealous.”

  “To be honest,” I informed her, “I would have probably reacted similarly had you spent the afternoon with the King.”

  These words brought a small smile to her face and I grinned foolishly for the remainder of the evening.

  We all retired to the bedrooms and I lay on my mattress, journal in hand, scrawling down the details of my afternoon. I did not realize how late it had gotten until Rémy broke the silence when he entered the room.

  “Oh, I didn’t expect anyone to still be up,” he informed me.

  I chuckled. “I have been so busy writing that I completely lost track of time.”

  “Writing what?” he asked, undressing for bed.

  “I began recounting our journey out of Alexandria,” I revealed. “I originally fancied it would be published as an introduction to Capribo, but now I suppose it’s more for my entertainment.”

  “Writing is very therapeutic,” Rémy encouraged. “I would like to read it sometime, if you allow it.”

  “Certainly!” I agreed. “How were your Capribian lessons?”

  “They went very well, thank you,” he smiled as he got into bed. “Although I learned that the language isn’t even called Capribian, but Anuprian.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Apparently the entire Mediterranean region used to be known as Anupria, and the language developed during this time. All of the Royal Republics use it.”

  “We must swap our new-found knowledge tomorrow,” I proposed. “I would love to hear more of what you learned.”

  “Gladly,” he agreed, “though I am meeting with Eireas again tomorrow.”

  I paused. “The King was your tutor?” I asked in disbelief.

  He nodded. “Yes, I was most surprised when the assistant took me to see him this morning. But he was a prodigious instructor, and he even started to create a dictionary for me.”

  “How did he manage that?”

  “When he showed me an image, I spoke it aloud in French and the wall screen then paired it with a recording in Anuprian, both of which I could recall later. I had such a wonderful time and he tells me I am a very quick learner.”

  “That is delightful news! I hope he can do the same for me sometime.”

  Rémy nodded. “Well, goodnight Phillip. We will talk in the morning.”

  “Goodnight. I will turn the light off shortly.”

  “It does not bother me,” he said softly. “You can continue writing if you wish.”

  I jotted a few more lines down and stood to place the journal with my other books. I spotted a volume of red leather nestled among the stack which I did not recognize. I quietly pulled it out and opened the front cover. The interior was stamped with an intricate seal. Property of the Pearson Estate Library. One of Ella or Lady Pearson’s books must have gotten mixed up with my own during their transition from the Bigorneau.

  I flipped the page to see which book it was when a small sliver of yellow paper fluttered out onto the floor. I picked it up and examined it. Most of the document was torn away, but it held the distinctive layout of a legal notice. The writing was badly degraded but I held the paper up to the light. The fragment didn’t tell me much, but I saw that it was a court summons. The accusation: Misappropriation and embezzlement of estate funds.

  CHAPTER 10

  Rémy and I awoke long after the sunrise horn had blown its rousing call th
e following morning. To our surprise, the apartment was unoccupied. I spotted a note in hastily scribbled French atop a side table in the lounge:

  Rémy, the advisor offered to take us to the gardens for luncheon this afternoon. It did not seem right to wake you, but please join us later if you wish. – Uncle Lucas

  We took a seat at the dining table. Breakfast had long since gotten cold, but I ate a handful of nuts, berries, and goat cheese. The Capribian diet agreed with me. The vast majority of their dishes made no use of butter, fats, or oils and I noticed the lighter fare was easier on the stomach than the heavy home-cooked meals I was accustomed to.

  “Will you join the others in the gardens?” Rémy asked between mouthfuls.

  “Yes, will you?”

  “I can’t. I am meeting King Eireas for Anuprian lessons again.”

  “Oh yes,” I recalled. “I forgot to mention. I requested that we accompany him to Alexandria tomorrow.”

  “What a splendid idea,” Rémy beamed, his blue eyes sparkling in the mid-morning light. “It may just be enough to show my uncle and the others the truth of this place.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” I concurred. “So am I to understand that you believe it wholeheartedly?”

  “I didn’t at first,” he stated, “but in all honesty, I very much want to.” He appeared a bit embarrassed at the admission.

  “I know what you mean,” I said comfortingly. “I don’t even understand it myself and I’d be lying if I said I had no guilt in it. I find my thoughts drifting to my family from time to time and it saddens me that I did not write them a final letter. They did not even know I would be traveling out of Africa. My disappearance will be a mystery. But all the while, I consider myself lucky. I saw them only every few years and our situation would be much more painful had I been closer to them. But despite these occasional thoughts, there is something very powerful about this place which calls to me.”

  “Yes!” Rémy agreed. “Although I suppose it’s natural for you. Exploring is what you chose to do with your life, after all.”