Land of Nod, The Artifact

by Gary Hoover

  Nahima and Baldwin were staring open-mouthed, and Artimus had a grin nearly as big as Jeff’s. He put a hand on Jeff’s shoulder and said: “Well if you’re not The Raja, you’re at least a good enough shot to help us out.”

  Chapter 31:

  As Jeff prepared for bed, he realized that he had never had so many conflicting emotions all at once. He was hopeful and excited that his father might be alive . . . but he worried about his mother - alone and confused back home.

  Everything here was fresh and new and exciting, but there seemed to be an impending war with some . . . creatures that were more frightening than anything Jeff had to deal with in 21st century earth.

  This family who had taken him in was kind and gracious, but they thought he was something that he clearly wasn’t.

  I’m not some kind of damned savior.

  He wondered what Baldwin thought about the subject. “Do you really think I’m The Raja?” he asked.

  Baldwin thought for a moment and then shook his head. “No . . . no, I don’t think so . . .”

  “Sorry,” he added sheepishly.

  “Don’t be,” Jeff said. “I’m sure I’m not The Raja.”

  “Here, let me show you something.” Baldwin pulled his shirt part-way off exposing his shoulder.

  Jeff saw a large brown spot. “What’s that, some kind of scar?”

  Baldwin pulled his shirt back on. “Birth mark, but did you notice what shape it is?”

  Jeff shrugged. “Sort of oval.”

  “Like a Numino?”

  “I guess.” Jeff shrugged again.

  “For the past 10 years, I’ve had to put up with my father thinking I might be ‘The Raja’, just because it looks like I might: ‘Bear the Numino’ . . . remember Prophecy 8? The Raja will . . .”

  “Bear the Numino,” Jeff finished for him. “Yeah, I know that one.”

  “I’m pretty much mediocre in everything. I’m not real smart, I’m not real strong, I’m not real brave or adventurous, I don’t understand things . . . Nahima has way more ability than me in all those areas . . .”

  He dropped his voice to a whisper which caused Jeff to look around wondering if there was anyone close enough to actually hear them. “Between you and me, I’ve sometimes wondered if she could be ‘The Raja’ . . . I know everyone assumes it’s a guy, but she can do some pretty amazing things, and who knows with those prophecies . . . they’re so vague . . . I’ve even wondered if it might be dad . . . anyway, just because I have an oval birth-mark, my father thinks it might be me . . . frankly, I’m just really glad you’re here so he has someone else . . . to get all weird about for a while.”

  Jeff felt like he was in one of those movies where each person in a line points to the next one until they get to the end and that person is left looking for someone else to point to.

  He was wishing there was someone else next to him.

  Chapter 32:

  Jeff looked around. He was in a . . . wooden ship? He could see the beams and planks, there was a table. It looked like an old sailing ship of some kind . . . but he wasn’t alone. . .

  The pheerion was there!

  He looked up quickly and saw the pheerion’s red, evil eyes boring into him. The pheerion spoke in his ugly, scratchy voice, and, again, Jeff could understand even though the language was foreign: ‘You can’t stop me boy! Not while I have the power . . .’ The pheerion raised his hand and Jeff stumbled back.

  His eyes snapped open and he heard Baldwin’s familiar snoring.

  Jeff looked at the clock: 1:90 - about the same time he had gotten up the day before.

  He showered, dressed and headed to the kitchen. Just like yesterday, Artimus was already dressed and at the table.

  “Good morning,” Artimus said. “Something to eat?”

  Jeff shook his head. “I’m not really hungry this morning.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “What are we doing today?”

  Artimus exhaled exaggeratedly. “I’m afraid today is going to be a tough day. We’re going to have to discuss yesterday’s news and see if that will change anyone’s opinions of what we should do.”

  He leaned in and looked intently at Jeff. “I’d like to tell them about you.”

  Jeff was taken aback. “About . . . what . . . not that you think I’m ‘The Raja’?”

  Artimus nodded solemnly. “I hate to put you in that situation, but I think it’s important. I think you might be the key to all this.”

  Jeff’s stomach was in knots. Up until now it had been sort of odd and awkward that Artimus believed . . . this ridiculous thing, but Jeff wasn’t ready to be ‘announced’ as The Raja. “What do you think is going to happen when you tell people?”

  Artimus shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know. One thing I do know is that, while many people believe . . . or claim they believe . . . in the prophecy and the Raja, I have a feeling very few will actually believe he’s sitting in front of them.”

  “I think I can imagine how they feel,” Jeff said a bit sarcastically. “Look, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I’m not ‘The Raja’. I’d like to be able to help, but. . .”

  Artimus smiled. “I know you don’t think you are . . . and maybe you’re not, but please just try to keep your mind open. That’s all I can ask. Let’s see what happens.”

  Artimus opened a small box on the table. “Here’s something else difficult that I have to ask you.”

  Jeff could see a small electronic device. There was also some sort of white putty and a small tool.

  “This,” Artimus said, “is a tracking device. A small amount of this putty can be spread on a tooth, cured, and programmed to be read in this locator.” He tapped the electronic box. “Nahima and Baldwin both have them so that if we ever get separated, I can track them down with this.

  “Now I understand this might sound a little . . . creepy to you . . . and I completely understand if you don’t want to do it . . . and it’s entirely your choice . . . but I have a feeling things could get . . . chaotic over the coming days and I’d really like to make sure I can find you if something happens.”

  Jeff thought that ‘creepy’ was an understatement. The idea that someone would be able to track him from a marker on his tooth was very intimidating. He looked at Artimus.

  Jeff had that re-assuring voice in the back of his head telling him: You can trust him, but he still wasn’t sure. How do I know I can trust the voice? Jeff realized that it was probably a side effect of watching too many movies, but Artimus seemed SO trustworthy, that if Jeff was in a movie, Artimus would be the one Jeff would guess would flip and turn out to be evil by the end of the film.

  But that’s silly, Jeff thought to himself. This isn’t a movie. I should trust the ones who seem trustworthy.

  He took another good look at Artimus who was waiting patiently for him to think it through. Well if I can’t trust him, he thought, I’m in trouble no matter what.

  Okay. Let’s do it.

  Chapter 33:

  The council chamber seemed much different than it had the day before. There was an anxious buzz. Artimus worked the room talking to different council-people - some that Jeff recognized and others that he didn’t remember seeing before.

  Jeff was seated in Artimus’ box and just trying not to get in the way. Eventually Artimus made his way up to his spot behind the large table and the proceedings began.

  Many of the same people who spoke the day before spoke again. Jeff found that no-one had seemed to change their mind. Those who argued for action previously now argued that action was needed more urgently. Those who felt they shouldn’t get involved still didn’t see any reason to get involved – particularly now that getting involved looked more deadly.

  Jeff wasn’t sure exactly what Artimus had planned, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. After more speakers than Jeff could count, Artimus stepped up to the lectern and Jeff’s stomach started to churn.

  “Respected councilmen and councilwomen,” he began. “
Thank you for your thoughtful words.”

  Artimus lowered his eyes and stood there silently for a few moments. He seemed to be finding the words - or maybe the strength - to bring up the next topic.

  “I don’t have a standard speech today. I think we all know times are dire.”When times seem most dire, the Raja will fall from the sky.

  “ . . . Instead, I want to introduce you to someone . . . Jeff would you come up here please?” He extended a hand and gestured to Jeff.

  There was a murmur that washed over the chamber, and Jeff began to stand. As he did so, he suddenly realized that his legs didn’t have their typical strength and he nearly collapsed back into his seat.

  He made his way toward the lectern. Each step was a labor. He had to think through each step: Right foot, left foot, right foot . . .

  As he arrived at the lectern, Artimus put his hand around the back of his neck and gently turned him to face the main chamber.

  “This is Jeff Browning. My children found him lost in the forest a few days ago. I’d like to show you something he was carrying.”

  Artimus pushed a button on the lectern and a small lamp lit. Jeff noticed another light come on behind him when that lamp illuminated. He peeked over his shoulder and saw an image of the lectern’s wood grain projected on the wall behind them - over the large table of senior members.

  Artimus leaned over and whispered in Jeff’s ear: “May I show them the locket?”

  Not like I have much choice at this point.

  Jeff fished in his shirt, pulled out the locket and handed it to Artimus. Artimus opened it, put it under the lamp, and both he and Jeff turned to look over their shoulders to see the photo of Jeff’s father projected on the wall behind them.

  A loud gasping murmur erupted from the council chamber.

  “Order, order!” Duanan commanded. “Councilman Winfred, how do you explain this outrage? Why didn’t you tell me you planned these . . . theatrics?”

  Artimus opened his mouth to reply, but Duanan cut him off before he could get a word out. “Take your seat.” He gestured at Artimus’ seat at the table beside him.

  Artimus didn’t move, but rather stood there rigidly glaring at Duanan. Jeff noticed Duanan make a slight gesture with his hand, and armed chamber guards began to move from both sides. Artimus pulled the locket off the lectern, handed it to Jeff and said, in a quiet voice: “Just relax and tell the truth.” Artimus headed for his seat. The guards stopped where they were, and the lectern began to sink into the floor.

  Just behind the descending lectern, a chair rose from a place where it had been hidden below the floor. The chair faced the table at which Artimus, Duanan and the other members of the Armed Conflict committee were seated.

  Duanan gestured sternly for Jeff to sit. Jeff was getting annoyed at this treatment. For a fleeting moment, he hoped that he really was ‘The Raja’ . . . just so he could make a point of NOT helping people like Duanan.

  Jeff sat. When he sat, a light shone in his face from a spot on the floor, and he could see an image of his face being projected on the wall behind Duanan’s table. The chair was several feet below the level of the table, so Jeff had to look up to see the faces of the people who were now staring intently at him.

  “What did you say your name was?” Duanan asked Jeff tersely.

  “I didn’t.”

  There was scattered, nervous laughter from the chamber. Duanan’s face was turning red, and Jeff felt he was on the edge of erupting angrily . . . but he seemed to be containing himself . . . for the moment.

  “What . . . is . . . your . . . name?” Duanan asked through clenched teeth.

  “Jeff Browning.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  Jeff didn’t answer for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to respond to this question, but Artimus had advised him to be honest, so he charged ahead. “I don’t know where my father is. I’m looking for him. My mother is . . . in another dimension. A place we call Earth.”

  There was a loud murmur and some laughter from the chamber. Duanan scanned the chamber sternly and the buzzing quickly quieted.

  “Ridiculous. So I take it, from your story, that if we run a scan, we will not find your parents as registered citizens of Caesurmia?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Then it seems clear to me that you are likely a Doclotnuryian spy with a fake Numino. You will be taken into custody, I will interview you in private and we’ll sort this out.”

  “YOU WILL NOT!” Artimus roared and rose from his seat. Duanan nearly tipped over in his seat, and he raised his arms to shield himself. The guards moved in - very quickly this time - and soon there were four weapons aimed directly at Artimus. Two other guards took positions on either side of Jeff. They had their hands on their guns, but they hadn’t yet drawn them.

  Once Duanan had some muscle to back him up, he suddenly became much more courageous. He stood up and faced Artimus. “You dare . . .”

  Artimus was absolutely furious. Jeff had never seen him like this. It was almost as if he had inflated his body and now he seemed to loom over Duanan even though he wasn’t as big physically. “YOU HAVE NO RIGHT. . .”

  “I have the right, and I have the AUTHORITY!” Duanan shot back. He was close to matching Artimus’ volume, but he couldn’t come close to matching the intensity. “You are out of order. You will stand down now, or I’ll have you held for gross contempt.”

  Artimus looked at Jeff, then back to Duanan, then back to Jeff. Slowly, he regained his composure and he began to deflate. His eyes still glared right through Duanan, but he backed off a bit physically.

  “Take the boy to my chambers,” Duanan instructed the guards.

  Chapter 34:

  The guards pushed Jeff roughly into Duanan’s office. Jeff wasn’t really resisting, but he wasn’t making it easy either. If they would simply have asked him to come with them, he would have done so, but the more he was pushed around, the less he felt like making it easy for them.

  They positioned him in front of a chair and LEANED their weight on his shoulders until his knees buckled and he slammed down into the chair. They yanked his hands behind him and shackled them behind the chair back.

  The guards exited, and Jeff sat there alone for several minutes. He looked around the office. It was elaborately decorated with what Jeff assumed were very expensive, useless things. There were framed awards and there was a large . . . liquor cabinet? . . . behind an oversized, elegant desk.

  Duanan entered and closed the door loudly behind him. Jeff looked over his shoulder and Duanan scowled at him. He walked past Jeff to the desk and tapped his finger on it several times as he made his way around to the large chair. He sat heavily and continued to stare at Jeff with an unpleasant expression.

  “Who are you?” He asked in a demanding tone.

  “Jeff Browning.”

  Duanan didn’t seem happy with the answer. “Who are you really?”

  Jeff rolled his eyes. He was trying not to get emotional and belligerent, but he was afraid he might lose that battle.

  Jeff would do anything for anyone who asked, but he’d resist giving anything to anybody who demanded it.

  Jeff’s father was the same way. Jeff remembered two incidents that happened within a few days of each other: One rainy morning, a friend of Jeff’s father called at 2:30 am and told Dr. Browning that he was stranded with car trouble and needed help. Dr. Browning was dressed and out the door within minutes of receiving the call.

  A few days later, Dr. Browning’s supervisor showed up at the house and wanted a project summary Jeff’s father had been working on. Dr. Browning told him they were eating, and he’d have to wait. The supervisor DEMANDED that he get the summary at that moment, and Dr. Browning calmly told him he would get it when they were done eating if the supervisor wanted to wait . . . an hour or two depending on how things went or he could have it in the morning.

  Jeff realized that he had inherited that trait from his father.

&n
bsp; . . . But Jeff wasn’t sure if he could remain as cool as his father had.

  “I told you my name. If you want something else, maybe you should re-phrase your question. Do you want to know what lessons I’ve learned that have made me who I am, or do you want to know my philosophy of life. . .”

  “I want to know where you’re from.” Duanan’s voice was becoming louder, and Jeff noticed that his lips continued to quiver after he had spoken.

  Jeff felt like he was sensing Duanan. Similar to the little glimmers he had been having since he arrived indicating who he could trust, who he couldn’t etc.

  Now he seemed to be getting more detail. He was sensing Duanan’s arrogance, his selfishness, his anger . . . his fear?

  Yes. Jeff was getting a strong sense that Duanan was afraid of something, but he couldn’t tell what.

  Jeff was finding himself tempted to tell Duanan to ‘go to hell’, but something told him the truth would annoy Duanan more than belligerence, so Jeff decided to take the route of maximum annoyance.

  “I told you and the rest of the council that I’m from ‘Earth’. I believe it’s in an alternate dimension, but I don’t know anything about what the exact relationship is . . . or where I am right now.”

  “Are you from Doclotnury?”

  “No, I’ve never been there.”

  Duanan didn’t seem happy with that answer. He got up from his desk and walked around behind Jeff. He grabbed Jeff’s finger and began twisting it to put stress on the joint.

  Intense pain shot into Jeff’s finger and seemed to spread from there. Jeff grimaced but tried to avoid making too strong of a reaction.

  Duanan leaned in and asked him again: “Are you from Doclotnury?”

  “Noooooo . . . ,” Jeff said as if talking to a small child. “I told you I’ve never been there. Did you miss that part?”