by Dan Glover
The man wasn’t ignorant. Even though Nate disliked Micah on a personal level he always listened to him—and perhaps it was on account of the limited times it happened more than the veracity of wisdom—when he expressed opinions on how to best shape the new inventions he was working on with Pete. For the most part, Micah had the good sense to steer clear of Nate but his interactions with Ena worried him.
"Be careful with what you share with Micah, my darling Ena. The man isn’t to be trusted."
"I know that, Grandfather Nate... but you do have to admit he does have some good ideas."
"Micah is only telling us what he thinks we need to know. The man is hiding some dark secrets. You of all people should already know that. Can't you see it too, darling Ena?"
"I see a lonely man trying to do his best to fit into a society that abjures his presence. If we do not interact with Micah, no one will."
He understood that Ena did not have the experience of dealing with Micah when he thought he was the one in charge. When Nate first met him, the man was fierce in both countenance and action, a monster both terrible to behold and quick to pronounce judgment on everything and everyone that he deemed under his sway.
Now, he was submissive like a puppy seeking to ingratiate himself with a new master. Nate suspected it was only a matter of time before Micah's true colors began to emerge from behind the façade of normalcy in which he sought to cloak his deeds and his thoughts.
Ena always thought the best of people. She had been lucky to grow up during a time when her family was more isolated from the others and she was not subjected to the cruelty and abuse that the People were fond of dishing out to those of the Lake.
Nate had always made allowances for the actions of those who tormented him during his youth. Unfortunately, he had also taken his turn at being the bully, even with those he loved. Though he had tried to make amends it seemed as if no matter what he did, those old thoughts and terrible acts followed him and colored the way he viewed not only the lovers in his life but the world too.
He genuinely hoped it turned out that he was wrong about Micah. The man deserved a chance at life just like anyone. Still, something in his gaze caused Nate a good deal of consternation, especially when it came to those he loved.
Now, all his worst expectations were unfolding before his eyes. Micah had admitted his machines were incapable of performing complex tasks without the nexus and yet it was clear that they had evolved to the next level. From what he could see, they had learned to incorporate a protective membrane around the inner workings that had heretofore been prone to failure in the presence of the Lake people.
"How is it you survived here for so long, Niall? We all thought you had gone off with one of the girls of the People and made a home in some isolated spot. I would have come here long before now if I knew this was where you ended up."
"But I've only been gone a few days, Grandfather Nate."
"You've been away for centuries, Niall... so much has changed since you left I don’t even know where to start."
"Tell me about Luciana... is she well, Grandfather?"
"I fear she is afflicted with the diminishing, Niall. She has sequestered herself in the old villa where you grew up on the Isle of Skye. No one can seem to convince her to leave. She's waiting for Kirk to return."
"But you said I've been away for centuries..."
"Exactly... your sister has been in mourning all that time."
Nate felt as if he was being slowly swallowed up by the sludge through which they made their way step by treacherous step. His feet were numb, as if the blood had drained from them, or perhaps like the time they'd been caught in a northern blizzard unprepared.
Even Chester seemed to be feeling the effects. Before, the big cat ran ahead stopping frequently to wait for them to catch up. Now, his steps had become sedentary. When Chester turned to look back—perhaps in an attempt to see if they were still there—his eyes looked heavy. The light that normally burned there had all but gone out.
Arriving at the summit of a rise, he could more clearly discern the structure to which Kirk was apparently making his way. It looked like a pyramid-shaped obelisk that swallowed up any light falling upon it, black and foreboding as the entrance of hell. As Nate gazed upon it, the form shifted from one geometric shape to another, like a dangling curtain dancing in the wind and growing larger and more menacing by the second.
There was a creature standing in front of the wriggling dark mass, upright, but not a man. They had found Kirk. He looked like a dark demon standing in front of the gates of hell.
Chapter 40—Marooned
Something wasn’t right.
Kirk had always been gentle with her, even when she was just a child. Another boy might have taken advantage of the situation—of being alone with her in a secluded place—though she didn’t learn of that until much later when one actually did.
"I need you, my precious Luciana... I require you to help me."
"I am yours forever, my eternal Kirk. Come home to me."
He came to her now nearly each night in fitful dreams where she felt cold and isolated, as if she'd been marooned on a distant island far from any friends or family. His voice was so sharp that each time he spoke she felt like putting a finger to her auditory organs to see if they might be bleeding.
"You alone have the power to break the spell that has settled over your precious lover, Kirk. When he comes for you, as he will, you must be ready to send him back to the darkness from which he has issued."
He seemed like two people... one, the loving husband and doting father she remembered... the other, something darkly sinister, even foreboding, something conjured out of nightmares that she never had the audacity to dream.
The first person spoke in niceties, telling her how much he still loved her, and that he would once again be in her arms if only... it was then the second man of darkness seemed to barge into the conversation, demanding things of her that Kirk would have never asked.
What he asked was unthinkable. Upon awakening she told herself the dreams must be indicative of some deep-seated psychological need she was feeling... abandonment, perhaps, or the want to simply talk to another living being.
She had been alone too long. At first, she insisted upon privacy. She told the others it was her right to mourn in her own fashion. She remembered hurtling angry words at those who loved her most in what she now saw as a misguided effort at driving them away.
When everyone finally did her bidding, she was sorry. It hurt far more to be alone than it ever did with others to share her grief. Luciana told herself she could leave too, perhaps go back to Toulon or perhaps Orchardton Hall... but admitting she was wrong would somehow cost far more than staying at the Isle of Skye, no matter how lonely she was.
"What can I do, my sweet Kirk? I don't understand what you're doing here. Tell me how I can help you. You know I'll do anything."
Rather than answering, the man turned his back to her as he walked off into the gathering gloom. She found it strange that his body shape was so different than she remembered. Even the nuances of his voice had changed.
It had to be the mounting of the years that caused the dissonance that she felt. Still, she couldn’t help but notice this figure wasn’t like Kirk at all. Instead, it reminded her of a man she had met only briefly... a man that her mother Ena had called Father. He seemed to confirm her suspicions though in a way which left her with more questions than answers.
"My name is not the one which you speak. Though I may resemble him in form in action we are sundered by the centuries. If you welcome the one you seek back into your life, you will be lost. Not even your memory will remain... only that by which you are created."
Each time she woke, the dream had become more vivid, more demanding of her attention. She began to wonder if her waking life had melded into her dreams and if indeed she had come to the point of no return, just as her mother Ena once warned.
"Come away with me, sweet Luciana.
Waiting here is a fool's paradise. You will never obtain the love you seek by shunning those who care for you. Come back to the sunshine and the sweet wine which still waits patiently for you in Toulon."
She ignored her mother's remonstrations. If no one wished to wait with her at the Isle of Skye she would be alone. Happiness was as foreign to Luciana as the sound of an intelligent voice. Her nights were filled with the out of tune howls of dogs long ago gone feral bringing with them the images of bloody corpses dancing a refrain to the melodies of madness.
"Please leave me alone, mother. I've done nothing to upset you so."
Though she'd been talking to the demons raging against her sanity, her mother had apparently taken the words as directed toward her. She had left the Isle of Skye never again to return.
She needed her now. The old short wave radio no longer worked without the electricity it needed. The back-up batteries were corroded and dead with no way of recharging them. Luciana had no need of such luxuries as running water and lights that made the nights into day yet there were times when she desperately needed to hear the sound of another voice besides her own.
Night would engulf her once more and this time, she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to continue her resistance if Kirk or Father returned with his demands. She loved her husband but with the visions that had been haunting both her dreams and her waking life she had come to understand, finally, that Kirk was no more.
What had replaced him was coming for her and it would use her to subdue the others. Luciana couldn’t allow that to happen. Perhaps that was why visions of Father had appeared... to aid her in the fight against an enemy too terrible to consider.
It wasn’t Kirk who threatened her. It was someone else... a presence that had slowly insinuated itself into the fabric of their tiny group taking advantage of their trust and their reliance upon one another.
She knew his name. He was but a slip of a boy, no bigger than a minute, and yet it was said he had survived the Great Dying single handedly by creating miniature machines which were so small they could enter the body right through the skin.
She had met Micah at Toulon when he came there for the first time with Lady Lily and remained. From a distance the man seemed personable yet when she drew closer to him his eyes mirrored a singular hatred for all that they saw in a way that set Luciana's nerves on edge.
She had told no one that he was the reason she had gone home to the Isle of Skye for fear that she might implicate an innocent man in some foul trickery that her mind played upon her. Now, she sensed he was the culprit behind all the strange goings on that had besmeared her of late... if not him directly then at least indirectly.
Now, as the isolation and loneliness of the bleak island filtered the mist from her thoughts she saw she had been correct all along. Micah never aspired to better the People. His singular campaign had centered upon making use of the time afforded him living close beside the people of the Lake. She was as much to blame as anyone. Being around Micah on a daily basis lent her an insight into his mixed purpose in ways others could not see.
"Come with us and help with the harvest, precious Micah."
"Oh, I know nothing of growing grapes, sweet Luciana."
"We'll show you all you need to know, darling Micah. It's easy. I didn’t know anything either when I first arrived here. Grandfather Nate taught me, however, as did Kirk."
"How did you know you were in love, gentle Luciana? I see the way you and Kirk are when you're together."
Had Micah been spying on them? Often times during their lovemaking Luciana got the distinct feeling someone was watching them—laughing, perhaps—but the drapes were drawn and the room darkened. Still, she knew Micah was well enough versed in technology to surreptitiously plant concealed cameras about Toulon.
Though his words embarrassed her, she told herself that the man was only curious. From what she gleaned during talks with her husband, Micah had never been with a woman, much less married.
"The first time I saw Kirk, darling Micah, I knew we were destined to be together. I told him that we would be man and wife one day. I was six years old when he visited the Isle of Skye for a few days with Grandfather Nate. Years later when I arrived here I saw Kirk again and knew right away who he was. But he didn’t remember me until I said something."
"I never understood love so I don't seem to know how to tell someone that I love them, sweet Luciana. I mean, I'm not a stupid man, except when it comes to love."
"I never thought about it like that, my gentle Micah. I suppose I must be impulsive for when I saw Kirk I opened my mouth and the words just fell out. If he turned me down, I guess I would have been mortified. But somehow I knew he wouldn't."
"I would be too embarrassed to do something like that, darling Luciana... you are much more courageous than I am."
"Sometimes you just have to take a chance, sweet Micah."
She saw the way Micah looked at Karen every time she visited the vineyards at Toulon with her husband Pete. Luciana often wondered if Karen knew about Micah's unrequited love but then she realized how smart the doctor was. Of course she knew. Karen simply didn’t return the love in the same way.
Perhaps that was what turned Micah against them all... the lack of acceptance. Still, Luciana knew for a fact that other girls of the People had approached Micah during the dances that were held each Friday night along the warm shores of the Mediterranean. She had watched as he had shunned them all, refusing to even dance when asked.
She had never set out to purposely hate anyone but the feelings she had for Micah had morphed over the years into an abhorrence that bordered upon malice. Luciana wondered why she had not allowed the man to be killed when she had the opportunity. No one would have known.
She had been out walking one day looking over Chester and his pride when she came upon a rise and saw Micah standing on the beach below her. A rogue lion—an enormous male fully maned—was advancing upon him unseen. Though it was unusual for lions to frequent Toulon due to Chester's powerful presence a spotting were not unheard of.
She knew Micah was frightened of Chester. He once told her that he had a premonition of being attacked and eaten by a big cat, though Kirk informed her of the real reason Micah was scared of Chester.
"Micah infected Chester with his nanobots. That's why he grew so big. You should have seen him when we first found him, or I should say he found us. Chester climbed aboard the Nautilus when we were anchored in the harbor at old New York City. He nearly capsized the ship.
"Pete told us how Micah used the big cat for his experiments. I could never understand how anyone could do that to an animal. It is one thing to experiment on willing human beings or upon yourself, but not animals. I'm sure Chester remembers Micah. If I were him, I would watch where I go. If he ever gets the chance, Chester might pay Micah back for the cruelty he showed him."
Kirk's words came back to her as she watched the lion stalking Micah through the undergrowth that peppered the shoreline. She thought what irony—what poetic justice—it would be for the man to be attacked by a creature not altogether unlike the one he once tortured.
Instead, she called out to him, luring the man away from a danger he never suspected. Walking back to Toulon she kept looking over her shoulder sure they were being followed. But apparently the big cat had come across a different and perhaps an easier quarry to take for dinner.
Now—in the confusion that had become the Isle of Skye and her home—seeing the shadow of a man watching her, she was getting the same feeling of dread.
Chapter 41—Sailing
In his dreams of Daughter he sensed how she was trying to tell him that once again she found herself in dire straits.
Though he knew he had to get to old America to stand by her side, the visions led him instead to the damp and desolate place known as the Isle of Skye. Someone there needed him even more than Daughter.
The girl was under attack and yet she yearned for the release that submitting to her torment
ors would bring. He knew her from the vineyards of old France where he had once lived for a short while.
Her name was Luciana.
"This is your granddaughter, my precious Father."
Daughter had introduced them. He once thought he might stay for a time at Toulon but his presence seemed to continually wreck havoc upon the psyche of others of his species and gender... Nate was afflicted as was the boy named Niall. Kāne even heard talk that his presence had caused permanent brain damage to Ena's husband, Alpin, though she was quick to deny it.
"Alpin has always been of his own mind, Father. Even as children he preferred spending his time alone. As the centuries mounted, that preference has only become more pronounced. You had nothing to do with how my husband behaves."
"Though I am your father, Alpin is not related to us... is that correct, Daughter?"
"Yes, that's right. Alpin was born of a union between Maon and Sileas. They are my adoptive family but I have four parents rather than only two."
"My being close to you at the Isle of Skye had nothing to do with Alpin's infirmity?"
"No, dear Father... my husband is much like you. He prefers isolated places to those brimming with people. I don't consider that a sickness any more than if he was to prefer pancakes to pork sausages."
It felt good being on the open sea once more after so long a time of lingering upon land. Though the salt water mist kicked up from the bow dried his skin, Kāne had learned to relish the taste of it on his lips and the scent of early mornings before the sunshine burned off the mist that hovered low over the pristine surface.
After a thousand years any diesel fuel he could find had been contaminated with water but it was a simple matter to construct a still by which he was able to filter the fuel rendering it usable. He didn’t know where he had come by such knowledge, only that it worked.
By running the engines only when the winds were low, he calculated he would have enough fuel to reach his destination as long as he took the clipper route. The charts warned of treacherous waters around Cape Horn and though that route would take him close to old New York City he resisted the urge to go in search of Daughter rather than Luciana.