Akropolis

by Catherine McCallum

  Sabine read it aloud from his shoulder. 267 West 72nd. “That’s quite a distance. Hey, look, it’s the middle of the night. Why don’t we quit now and continue this tomorrow?”

  Nat was thinking Sabine had an annoyingly short attention span. “You go home, I want to keep moving. Thanks for your help, Sabine.” He saw her face. “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.” He was already looking at the street signs, working out the grid.

  Sabine gave an audible sigh. “No, I’ll come with you.” She covered her eyes with her hands and peeked through them. “Ever hear about the three monkeys?”

  “No.”

  “Well, one…”

  “Okay, okay. Tell me later,” he said, frustrated. If she was going to come, she had to focus. “Can Bruno understand you like I can?”

  Sabine fell serious. “When I was young I was captured by a trader in Brazil and brought here to New York. I ended up with Bruno and Rosa and we’ve been together ever since.” She paused. “They can’t understand my thoughts, like you do. But they love me.”

  “So how come you’ve been to different timespaces?”

  “A Survivor from the First Transition helped me escape from the trader. She was the one who asked me to look out for you.” Sabine hesitated. “It was a long time ago, but I knew you’d come.”

  Nat stared at her in surprise. “What was her name?”

  “Korinna.”

  22

  Northern Japan, 1937

  Seb stood on the deck of Yoshiki’s cottage, gazing out over the banks of wildflowers to the river below. The doors of the cottage had been opened to the late morning sun and Demokritos stepped through to join him.

  “He’s resting,” Demokritos said. “I’m worried about him. His granddaughter should be here.”

  “Does she know he’s ill?” Seb said. “Why hasn’t she contacted him?”

  “She may not know. I’ve asked the Network to help find her. Yoshiki raised Norika after her parents died. They are close, but Norika goes her own way.”

  Demokritos glanced sideways at Seb. He was curious. He had brought Seb to the cottage at Yoshiki’s request and Demokritos had been surprised at the warmth of their greeting. “You know each other?” he had asked.

  Yoshiki had replied, “I first met Sebastian when he was a boy. We meet again and he is a man. I have much I wish to share with him.”

  Since then, Yoshiki and Seb had spent many hours together, deep in discussion. Demokritos had left them to their own company. Now he again asked Seb about the connection between them.

  “I was fifteen,” Seb replied, “I’d gone bush for several days, camping out near the coast. On the second day there was a storm. I found a cave in the side of the cliff where I sheltered until the storm eased.” He smiled. “I dreamed an old man visited me there in the rain and thunder. He had a badger with him. They communicated with each other through their thoughts, and after a while I began to understand them. They talked about philosophy and great poets and ancient history, things I used to think boring. I learned a lot in that afternoon. The badger told me his name. It was a number. From a different numeric system. I asked him if I could call him Finn, after the Celtic warrior, and he told me to use it if ever I needed to reach him.

  “The man was Yoshiki. Before they left he told me that my brother would soon come for me.” Seb paused. “And then they were gone. Nat turned up the next morning. When I went home I convinced myself it had been some sort of dream‌—‌until recently, when I saw Yoshiki on the street in St Annes and recognised him.”

  Demokritos was watching Seb as he talked, wondering what had caused Yoshiki and Finn to visit this boy, to instruct him. “Finn was Yoshiki’s closest friend,” he said. “His death affected Yoshiki greatly.”

  Seb stared at him. “Finn is dead?” He was silent a moment. “How did he die?”

  Demokritos hesitated. “He was shot protecting your brother and Norika. Yoshiki blames himself. We think the person who killed him was after the fragment of Rock Island that your brother carries with him. Until you can communicate with Nathaniel, we should suspect any who enter his timespace.”

  “Rock Island?” said Seb. “What sort of rock would cause someone to kill for it?”

  A pause. Demokritos said, “It may have been Rick Delaney.”

  “It wasn’t Rick.”

  Demokritos sighed. “We know Rick was there when Finn died. You have a great deal of loyalty for him, Sebastian. Be sure it’s not misplaced.”

  “It’s not.”

  “People change.”

  Seb said, “I know.”

  Since his arrival at the cottage Seb had been searching for connections. Norika, like her grandfather, was linked not only with the Network and St Annes, but now, also, with Nat. Seb had learned from Demokritos that Norika was clever, that she was likely to have other connections, maybe dangerous ones. He would need to be careful.

  Whatever doubts he had, he suspended. More urgent was the need to reunite Norika with her grandfather before his health deteriorated still further.

  In the meantime, Seb had been enjoying his talks with Yoshiki, who he realised had been instructing him in an alternative history Seb had known nothing about. On their strolls by the river, Yoshiki had spoken of his own role on the Committee of the First Transition. “The Second Transition was meant to be the last, where assimilation would be complete. But Ascendants reject this. They want greater control over the laws.” The old man had sighed. “I’m glad I will not live to see the consequences.”

  On their last walk together Yoshiki had seemed distracted. Seb worried about leaving him‌—‌he and Demokritos were to depart in a few days.

  “Is there any way we can contact Norika?” Seb asked again.

  Yoshiki stopped walking. “Norika is already here,” he said.

  Seb was startled. “Where?”

  Yoshiki was staring further along the river, and Seb followed the direction of his gaze. It had rested on a blue crane drinking at the river’s edge. The crane raised its head and looked in their direction. “There is a further power Survivors brought with them,” Yoshiki said, “one most Descendants have forgotten. It’s the power of changing form. Those who understand it can transform themselves.”

  “Into what?”

  “Into another species. The forms are interchangeable.”

  Seb thought of the fish. “Another species? Which is the real one?”

  “Whichever came first is irrelevant. They are the same person.”

  They watched as the crane took flight, climbing high above the forest, and then they turned back.

  That evening Demokritos prepared a simple meal of vegetables, rice and tofu and they ate it outside on the deck, enjoying the air in companionable silence.

  Seb had finished his meal and was leaning against the timber rail overlooking the river. He sensed something, a cool change in the air, and turned to see Norika.

  Later, he would recall every detail. She simply walked out through the sliding doors and joined them on the deck. Seb knew her immediately. She was taller than he’d imagined, but it was her beauty that surprised him. She wore long cotton pants and a light, loose top held at the waist with several strands of a thin leather cord. Her hair was formed into a single dark plait resting on her neck.

  She went straight to Yoshiki and bent to hug him. “The Network found me,” she said. “I came as soon as I could.”

  “I knew it was you at the river,” Yoshiki said. “I knew you would come.”

  Norika turned to the others. “Demokritos. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Your grandfather sent for me, and for Sebastian,” Demokritos said.

  She glanced at Seb. “I’m Norika,” she said, offering her hand.

  “Seb.” He held her hand for a moment longer, before casually releasing his hold.

  “Nat talks about you a lot,” she said. Her voice was warm and compelling.

  He shrugged. “We’re brothers.”

  After a few m
oments she looked away.

  Demokritos asked, “You were to go to New York with Nathaniel. What happened?”

  “I remained behind when he left through the portal,” Norika said. “I’ll find him again.”

  “Why did you stay?” Seb asked.

  She turned to him and said coolly, “I had my reasons.”

  Yoshiki said, “Nathaniel may abandon the journey without you.”

  Norika still had Seb in her gaze. “Nat knows you’re in danger until he overwrites your code. He’ll never give up until you’re free.”

  “I’ll be free soon,” said Seb. “Demokritos is my Guide now, but that will end.”

  A silence. Yoshiki sighed and said quietly to Norika, “You were with Finn.”

  Norika laid her hand on his. “He died in my arms. A friend buried him in the forest.” She paused. “Finn and I had become close. It was like being with you. To feel that way, so quickly, for someone‌—‌I can’t explain it.”

  She glanced up at Seb and caught a fleeting expression of disapproval in his gaze. Maybe she was wrong. “I can see the likeness between you and Nat,” she said evenly, “but I hope you’re not as moody.”

  “It runs in the family,” Seb replied. He held her gaze for a few seconds then turned away.

  The next morning, Yoshiki remained at the cottage to rest while the others went walking along the riverbank. Demokritos seemed preoccupied and after a short time excused himself and turned back for the cottage, leaving Seb and Norika to continue without him.

  “He’s impatient to return to Abdera,” said Seb.

  “What about you?” Norika said.

  “I can never return, not to St Annes,” he said.

  “I know.” She was silent a moment. “So much has changed.”

  “Nat told me about you last year, after the Science Quiz,” he said. “You impressed him.”

  “I didn’t recognise him at first. He’s grown taller since then.” She looked at Seb. “I saw you once, in St Annes.”

  Seb smiled at her. “What was I doing?”

  “You were walking down the street. I asked my friend who you were and she said you were one of the D’Angelo boys, the mysterious one.”

  Seb laughed.

  “Are you?” she said.

  “Am I what?”

  “Mysterious.”

  “Depends. Why did you ask her about me?”

  “You looked interesting.” She became serious. “I won’t be leaving the cottage while Yoshiki is ill. I’ll stay here as long as he needs me.”

  Seb frowned. “Demokritos and I are leaving tomorrow to report to the Committee.”

  “You don’t like the Committee?”

  “No.”

  She waited. “That’s it? No reason?”

  He smiled and mimicked her: “I have my reasons.”

  She pushed him and they walked on, talking and laughing, not noticing direction or the time that passed. Hours went by and afterwards neither could remember what was said, so absorbed were they in each other, so taken with the slightest change of expression, the subtle movement of bones under the skin, the planes of a face.

  Seb glanced at her, at her slender neck, the light way she walked, and thought how lucky he was to be with her and no one else. Why hadn’t he known her in St Annes? Why hadn’t they met before? In that moment, he couldn’t imagine the rest of his life without her.

  Norika said, “We should get back. It’s late.”

  They turned, reluctant to leave. Seb stopped and took her hand. “Can we talk tonight?”

  She laughed. “We can hardly avoid it.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She smiled at him.

  That evening, after a light meal, Yoshiki and Demokritos excused themselves and retired to their rooms early. Seb and Norika remained on the deck, the moon low in the sky, the air still, as if holding its breath in expectation. The lamp on the table flickered and went out, leaving only the thin crescent in the night sky to light their faces. They were sitting at the top of the wide steps leading down to the garden.

  Seb said, “I was with Yoshiki at the river. Was the crane really you?”

  Norika hesitated. “I’m a Descendant, like you.”

  “Not like me‌—‌not all of us change form.”

  “Only because most have lost the ability. It’s been bred out of us. It won’t endure, like many abilities. We’re a hybrid people.”

  “I’ve never thought of myself as hybrid until now,” said Seb. “If we’re losing these abilities, maybe we’ll revert to become more like we were. More human.”

  “We are what we are, Seb.” She looked at him. “You sound bitter.”

  “Not bitter. I don’t mind being hybrid, it’s the secrecy I don’t like, not knowing.”

  “What’s to know? That we’re all different?”

  “That our history is different. It isn’t what we’ve been told. When did you find out?”

  She hesitated. “Only recently. There were things as a child, things I could do, but I accepted them without thinking. Timespaces were just other places. It’s not as if we learned about the First Transition in school. Maybe that will come.”

  “Not if Ascendants take over,” he said. “In time we would never know we were once different from them, once human.”

  “We’d know,” she said.

  Her bare arm was resting on the step beside him and he knew he had to touch her. She became aware of his stillness and turned to look at him. He reached across and took her hand‌—‌not gently, as before, but with assurance. For an instant she resisted, but his hand held firm. He waited until he felt her hand relax in his, and then drew her closer.

  When he touched her neck she leaned towards him, to keep his skin with hers. When he felt her breath on his face he turned his cheek towards its warmth. He held her to him, and spoke softly near her mouth. When their lips touched and held, exploring tentatively, the reeling intensity startled them and they drew back, shaken.

  He took her hand and led her down from the moonlit deck to the darkness and the soft grass below. As she followed him her mind flashed back to the first time she’d seen him on the street in St Helens, and she realised she’d been searching for him, that she had agreed to the journey with Nat solely to meet him. Even then Seb had seemed unattainable. His cool confidence had challenged her, and now she knew with helpless certainty he was still beyond her. In pursuing him she had deceived not only Nat but herself.

  She stumbled on the bottom step, Seb caught her and they fell into a fierce embrace, shedding clothes until their bodies were bone-close and damp with sweat, sliding against each other. Finally they lay back on the grass while their breathing slowed. They slept and when they parted the sun had risen.

  “Where will you be after this?” he asked her.

  “With you,” she replied, “there’s nowhere else.”

  “You know I can’t be with you. Not yet. Not until later.”

  “I know,” she said.

  He held her face and turned it to his. “There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

  “I’ll tell you everything next time we meet.”

  He laughed. He leaned forward and stroked her hair. She watched him watching her, wondering how she could ever live without him, how he could ever leave her.

  “Don’t forget me,” she said.

  “I couldn’t. Why would I try?” His tone changed. “We have to be patient.”

  “I can wait,” Norika said.

  23

  New York City, 1911

  “So,” said Sabine. “Where to now? The address on the paper?”

  She was navigating from Nat’s shoulder as they walked along dimly lit streets towards the Upper West Side. She did this while providing running commentary on the local shopowners she and Bruno had encountered. “Fritz Weisman, he’s a tailor, always complaining when we set up outside his shop. Sean Mahoney, makes good boots when he’s not drunk. Joe, nice guy, sells pickles.”


  Nat was impatient. “You said it was in this direction. Where else would we go? The address is all we’ve got!”

  “Okay, okay!” Sabine said.

  Nat was tired and hungry. He thought they could be wasting their time. If Rick had taken the rock, he would have left here by now.

  From Grand they turned north past Union Square up Broadway, where Nat bought piroshki with ground beef and onion from a stall, and fruit and nuts from a pushcart for Sabine. Despite the cold, Broadway was crowded. People were leaving theatres and shows, laughing and talking as they walked home.

  Nat took it all in. He wanted to remember it like this.

  By the time they reached West 72nd the crowds had dispersed, disappearing into the thick fog forming around them.

  They turned left and started looking for street numbers. Sabine jumped down from Nat’s shoulder to speed up the search. He stretched in relief.

  “You’re heavier than you look,” he said.

  Sabine was already a few buildings ahead of him. “It’s on the other side,” she said, and darted across the road. He followed her to a tenement with a sign at the top of the steps: Flats to Let.

  Most of the rooms fronting the street were in darkness. There was a laneway beside the building and from there they saw a light on the second storey and a faint glow in a third storey window, both close to the fire escape.

  “We can start with those,” said Sabine. “No one will notice me in the dark.”

  “I’m coming with you,” said Nat.

  Sabine leaped lightly on to the fire escape and waited for Nat to join her. He found a wooden crate in the laneway which he used to reach the lowest step. They climbed to the second storey and peered in the window through a gap in the curtain. Someone was asleep and snoring heavily.

  “Let’s try the next one up,” whispered Sabine. As they approached the window on the next level, she tapped Nat and pointed. The glow was brighter and pulsing.

  “It’s the rock,” Nat said, “it’s warning us.”