by Gary Hoover
Artimus exhaled loudly. “Our intelligence? Damned if I know. Any reports we have go through Duanan, and according to him, nothing’s happening. I don’t know if we just don’t have any information or whether Duanan is just painting an optimistic picture so that people won’t get upset. But according to him, everything’s fine. Of course everything was fine before, too... right up until the invasion.”
The four sat in silence for several moments until Artimus spoke again.
“Codi, have you thought about what I asked?”
Blackbuck and Goldwin both looked at Codi. Neither knew what Artimus meant.
Codi blushed then looked down at her glass. “I don’t know. I just don’t know if I can do it.”
Artimus put his hand on hers. “I’m sure you can. I don’t mean you have a talent for being sneaky or anything. I just know that you can do anything you set your mind to.”
Codi squirmed as her discomfort increased.
“I’ve asked Codi to see if she can get a position as Duanan’s assistant to try to figure out what he knows or doesn’t know,” Artimus explained to the others. “He seems to be increasing his security detail and spending nearly all his time at his mansion, which is becoming more like a fortress. I’m afraid he may be onto us, or maybe just feels threatened in some other way. I don’t know if he’s being paranoid or I am.” Artimus laughed lightly, and then he looked embarrassed.
“Anyway, I think it’s clear that we and he are working in opposition to one another. Generally polite opposition for the moment, but I don’t think we can trust him to be open and honest with us – which means that, unless we can find a way to get the information that he’s not willing to share with us, we’ll be running blind.”
There were a few moments of silence as all nodded and considered.
“I actually tried my own bit of spying. It was a fairly miserable failure,” Artimus said as he looked down at his bottle and smiled uncomfortably.
“So Andrew,” Artimus said as he looked back up at him, “do you think you could put together a small ‘strike force’ that might be able to get through Duanan’s security people if we need to?”
Blackbuck smiled. “Already working on it. We’ll be able to help you. Just give the word.”
“Don’t be too quick. He seems to be building up quite a security force; which is why I’m thinking we need something to match.” He shook his head. “I was hoping to get more local support, but I don’t know. It seems like nobody wants to believe there’s any danger. I guess it makes it easier to keep their eyes closed when their ‘leader’ is telling them there’s nothing to worry about. But am I going too far? I don’t know.”
He leaned forward and lowered his head until his forehead contacted his beer bottle. “Why does nothing feel right?” he asked, raising his head. “I feel like I’m in a trap, and no matter what lever I pull, something bad is going to happen. I’m just trying to do as little damage as possible. I don’t know.”
Codi stood up, walked behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Sometimes the only choice is the one that’s least wrong.”
There were several minutes of thoughtful silence before Codi spoke again. “I’ll talk to Duanan tomorrow and see about that job.”
Artimus turned and smiled at her. “You will? Thanks, that’s great. I don’t know how I could live without you.”
Chapter 37:
Jeff listened to the ugly, grinding sound of the motor. The cabin was dark, the map switched off to conserve power, and an uncomfortable silence filled the vehicle. With nothing else to distract his senses, Jeff had no choice but to listen to the motor.
The few conversations that had been started over the past hour inevitably ended with someone snapping an angry, curt reply and everyone shutting up rather than risking a real screaming match.
This isn’t as much fun as it was when we started, Jeff thought to himself.
Was it ever fun?
Looking back, it seemed a lot more fun, but I don’t really remember thinking it was fun then.
Am I just twisting what I remember with some strange sense of nostalgia… for a much simpler time a few days ago?
When we were accosted by thugs and I was nearly killed by a wild beast?
Jeff smiled to himself and was glad it was too dark for anyone else to see him looking like an idiot.
Think positive. We’ll get it fixed, get powered up and soon be meeting up with The Prophet.
Then what?
Jeff had entered the strange dimension through a portal in his father’s office with the hope that his father, presumed dead at that time, might have traveled through the portal himself.
Shortly after his arrival, Artimus had shown Jeff a sketch The Prophet had drawn of ‘The Elder’ (a mythical figure who had taught the humans of Artimus’ world art, science and language). That sketch bore a striking resemblance to Jeff’s father. Of course, it was impossible that it actually was his father since The Elder was as old as the world and the sketch had been drawn 65 years prior, while Jeff’s father had disappeared just a little over a year before Jeff saw the drawing.
Jeff didn’t understand what those things meant, but he had a feeling that The Prophet knew something that might help him find his father. He was determined to find her.
Unfortunately, from Dave’s description of The Prophet and Jeff’s own dreams which had given him glimpses of truth, she seemed like a crazy old woman.
Jeff pulled out a pocket computer and read, once again, the 14 prophecies:
1. When times seem most dire, The Raja will fall from the sky.
2. The Raja will have strength and vision that even he won’t recognize.
3. The Shaman will die for the one he loves, but his actions will come far too late to save the one he loves from the same fate.
4. At the end of the great, human/pheerion war, pheerion and human will be ready to share the planet and live together in peace and harmony.
5. While The Raja will wield great power, he will require the guidance of the Shaman to reach his destiny.
6. Few will recognize The Raja for who he is.
7. As the most fearsome battle rages, The Raja must go to the heart of darkness. The heart must be killed to stop the beast.
8. The Raja will bear the Numino.
9. When humans fight humans, they risk all, but the battle can’t be avoided. Some will sacrifice all, and their sacrifices must not be in vain. The Raja must remember this and not be too distracted to help those whose hearts are true defeat those who betray their own.
10. The Raja’s compassion and trust will earn him allies. Those allies will be keys to victory.
11. Only The Raja has the power to wrest the Numino from the Warlord.
12. The Enigma will baffle all but The Raja. To him, it will be a child’s game.
13. Only after they have fulfilled their destiny will the Child and Raja depart.
14. The Child and the land are one. As long as the Child suffers, so will the land.
Is there anything to any of that? Or is it just a bunch of crap?
Artimus thinks I’m The Raja, because I fell from the sky, and I had my locket with me that looks like their ‘Numino’.
But Baldwin has a birthmark that looks like their Numino, and he fell from the sky when Artimus’ vehicle ran out of power.
So these ‘prophecies’ are basically just broad, vague things that could apply to anybody – sort of like the astrology blurbs they publish in the paper.
It says only The Raja has the power to wrest the Numino from the Warlord and I was able to knock out Rasp, but Baldwin was the one who took the locket.
His hands went to his father’s locket beneath his shirt.
But maybe Rasp isn’t even the Warlord. Maybe that means something still to come.
And there are two lockets – this one, with my photo that my father had, and my locket with dad’s photo... that Duanan took from me. Maybe I’m the warlord, and he’s The Raja.
; Jeff smiled. That just indicated how vague it all was, and that it could be interpreted however anyone wanted.
And what’s the ‘enigma’? I keep having dreams that make me feel like I will need to solve The Enigma when I meet The Prophet, but I’m afraid I won’t be able. Why do I even care? I don’t claim to be The Raja. I don’t WANT to be The Raja.
But I feel like if I can’t solve The Enigma, I won’t be able to find my father.
And THAT’S why I feel like all of this matters. I feel like this will somehow help me find my father, and my feelings have been eerily accurate. I also seem to have special powers and abilities.
Maybe I AM The Raja.
Jeff laughed to himself and shook his head.
More likely I’m as batty as the crazy old Prophet.
Chapter 38:
Artimus chose his steps carefully.
There were so many items scattered randomly around the room that spots of visible bare floor were rare and sparsely placed. The state of Baldwin’s room had always been a point of friction. Artimus often felt that since Nafeesa’s death, he had not been strict enough and had allowed things to get out of hand.
The mess didn’t anger him the way it normally would have. It was more a reminder of how much he missed his son, bad habits and all.
Artimus stepped awkwardly and comically off balance until he arrived at the bed Jeff had used during his brief stay at the house. Artimus sat on the bed and paused for a moment. He felt a little uncomfortable snooping in Jeff’s things. But he felt that Jeff was very special, and he hoped something might offer him insight.
It seemed an act of desperation, but at that moment, Artimus was a desperate man. He felt helpless and directionless and on the verge of losing his ability to think rationally.
He reached over and pulled open a drawer beside the bed that Jeff had used to keep the few personal items he had brought with him from his world. Artimus pulled out Jeff’s t-shirt and stretched it in front of him. He looked at the front and then the back. He looked inside and saw some writing: ‘Melrona the ultimate tee S 100% cotton machine wash warm with like colors’
He folded the shirt and put it on the bed beside him. He pulled out Jeff’s jeans and examined them. The design was very different than the clothing Artimus knew. The fabric was thick and tough, and the clothes Artimus knew didn’t have zippers, rivets or pockets of that design. He looked closely at the details, finding their completely foreign nature fascinating. He felt something in the pocket and pulled out a set of keys.
Artimus had never seen keys like those before. The keys he used were electronically coded, and even the mechanical keys he had seen but never used had very different designs. He flipped through them and saw that the keys were labeled: ‘University – Classroom, Home - Front Door, University – Office’
He closed his hand around the keys and clenched them tightly. He felt a tingling in his hand.
What the– He opened his hand quickly in surprise.
He examined the keys again. They seemed solid, and he couldn’t see anything to indicate there might be any electronic devices incorporated. He tapped the keys against one another.
Solid...
He closed his hand again, but this time didn’t feel anything. He opened his hand and stared.
Was it just my imagination? Maybe I just cut off my circulation or stimulated a nerve or something.
He closed his hand again, more lightly that time. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of the keys in his hand. Help me out here. Give me some kind of clue or sign. What should I be doing? What direction should I go?
He felt another sensation, but it was different from the tingling he had felt before. It felt more like a gentle throbbing energy, and for the briefest of moments, he felt like there was some sort of connection between himself and the keys.
He heard a noise behind him and jumped in response. It wasn’t a loud noise, but in the silent house, the gentle ‘scraping’ sound seemed very dramatic.
Combined with his focus on the keys and hope for a sign, his stomach turned over with the excited feeling that something had happened. A sign!
He rose, still holding the keys, and headed in the direction of the sound. He left Baldwin’s room, traveled the short length of hallway to his own room, where the sound had seemed to originate, and stopped in the doorway.
Chapter 39:
Artimus scanned the room.
Nothing unusual.
He was alone. Codi hadn’t snuck in that time. There were no pets in the house.
Rodents? Unlikely.
He picked up a lamp, looked at the clean circle on the otherwise dusty table then wondered why he even did that.
He walked across the room looking this way and that as he went.
No air circulating; nothing to blow anything over.
He checked the window, and it was secure.
He turned around and scanned the room from that side. He tried to remember the sound. It was like a dull scraping sound, like a piece of wood sliding a short distance on a bare floor.
There was nothing on the floor but a few pieces of dirty laundry. He got down on his hands and knees and looked under the bed.
Oooooohhhh. Yeah, I should just never look under there again. Maybe I can talk Nahima into cleaning under there when she gets back.
He stood and scratched the back of his head.
Letting my imagination get the best of me. It was probably nothing. But I could swear I heard... something. But did I want to hear something? Am I just fooling myself?
He rubbed his forehead and tried to clear his mind.
This is silly.
He was on his way back out when he noticed it.
He had not disturbed Nafeesa’s things since her death. When others asked or he thought about it himself, he blamed it on laziness, but deep down, he knew that he just couldn’t deal with going through her things and disposing of them. Besides, they weren’t taking much space or bothering anyone.
However, he now saw that the bottom drawer in her dresser was open six or seven inches.
That’s never been open before. Has it? Surely I would have noticed at some point if that drawer had been open all this time.
He approached it, slowly, as if he were afraid something might jump out at him. When he was within five feet, he stopped and tried to determine if he could see anything from there. He tilted his body and looked from different angles without moving his feet from where he had them planted.
Idiot. What am I afraid of?
He stepped closer to the drawer and knelt beside it. He still moved tentatively and didn’t touch anything. He moved his body and head so he could see it from nearly every angle. There were neatly folded socks and not much else.
He reached for the drawer and slowly pulled it out until it was as far out as it would go.
He tentatively poked and prodded the socks looking for anything out of place.
Am I just going crazy? What am I even thinking I might find? The secret to peace in a sock drawer?
He laughed lightly to himself and began to stand up. Wait, what’s that? He noticed the corner of a slip of paper protruding from beneath one of the socks. He pulled it out and examined it.
A receipt?
As he read it, he became more puzzled.
208.45 MMUs to Shaw’s. There was a numeric code, but no specific listing of what product or service had been billed. Shaw’s didn’t sell socks. It was a specialty food store.
The date of sale was two days before Nafeesa’s death.
Chapter 40:
“This isn’t good, is it?” Jeff asked as they lurched, then slowed, then lurched again.
Nahima shook her head, but there was no need. There had been a very uncomfortable silence for the past ten minutes, when it seemed clear that they were on their last legs.
Even the very dim emergency lighting was beginning to fade.
Jeff studied Nahima’s expression in the orange glow. He realized he had never see
n her looking so tense. They had been in tough spots before, very tough spots, but those times hadn’t seemed quite so bad because things had been moving quickly, and there hadn’t been the dull, aching sense of impending doom that they felt now.
Slow death.
Jeff considered their options. Should we all start walking? Should some of us stay here and the others go ahead? Can we even count on the felears if we can reach them? Maybe someone can use the jump-scoot?
He looked at Nahima. She would be the logical choice to take the jump-scoot.
She looked scared.
Shit.
Dave’s voice interrupted Jeff’s fretful contemplation: “We’re here.”
Chapter 41:
Artimus leaned back in his chair and patted his belly. “That was good.”
He was enjoying a lunch with Codi at the best outdoor table at his favorite restaurant. He sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of the sun on his face. For that brief moment, he allowed himself to simply enjoy the feeling and not dwell on all the things that had been on his mind.
“Your signature, sir?” The overweight and slightly gamey-smelling waiter ruined the mood as he thrust a pad at Artimus. Artimus pulled a pen from his pocket, and the waiter said: “Hey, aren’t you that guy who–”
“Yes, I’m that guy who–” Artimus answered somewhat tersely without looking up from the pad as he signed. He handed it back and scowled as the waiter ambled away.
“You shouldn’t be so rude to your fans,” Codi chided.
Artimus looked at her, and his expression slowly softened. “Why can’t more of my fans be as attractive and sane as you?”
Codi blushed slightly and put her hand on his. “You only need one of me.”