���And if I should wager a guess,��� Arthur continued, stroking the end of his beard. ���Darius had likely known this, and that’s why he never tried it himself.���
After this, they all had a drink from the spring at the center of their sealed tomb structure, and Barbara went on to ask why Mr. Greyford would have ever worked with such a brute as Darius D’Moncure.
���Oh,��� he replied. ���Do you think that villains and beasts are made in a day?��� He wiped the excess drops of water from his beard. ���Darius was a sensible man at first, and a good man by reputation, but there was a greed there, that I allowed myself to overlook. And when he had made himself into the sort of monster that you saw, I stranded him in a world where I thought he could not do any damage.���
���But why in Gleomu, and not on some deserted planet somewhere?��� Timothy asked.
And Arthur looked at him with sad eyes, eyes that showed a disappointment for the sort of a man his friend had become, and the cruel villain���s death that he had made from himself.
���Because of hope,��� Arthur said. ���Because I thought the goodness of Gleomu might have eventually seeped into his heart, but I was wrong, and it was a poor decision to make for hope’s sake.���
*
�� Joules and Lumens are units of scientific measurement. Put simply, a Joule measures energy, and a Lumen measures amounts of light.
Chapter Twenty-Four
A Change in the Wind
A hotter wind, and a dustier wind, blew through the steep walls of the canyon pass, as Ata and Tavora flew through craggy, dirt and tan-stoned mountains that afternoon, on their way to the desert, following the ever shallowing horse cart tracks, which faded away all together as they came to the end of the pass, since almost no snow had fallen at that end of the canyon.
The dust poked at them like needles and stung in their eyes, and the strength of the wind made it almost impossible for Ata to throw his magnetic ball, so that he was forced to land, and to travel at a much slower pace.
Though by then there were no tracks to follow. The desert winds had swept over them, leaving no trail nor sign that anyone had passed by that way at all, although the tracks that led into the canyon, from where they’d come, surely told that someone had.
���Is there someplace beyond here?��� Ata asked, still a relative newcomer to Gleomu, and staring, with his hand to block the glare of the lowering sun, looking out over the dead brush and desert grasses.
���Maybe a village? Somewhere he would have gone to?��� he asked.
Tavora had taken for granted the fact that Ata would have known where they were headed. Though she should not have, considering that Ata had only within that past year learned that Gleomu had even existed, not to mention that he was only just learning their geography, as need arose.
���What?��� she said, staring at his face with surprise. ���You really don’t know… Anad, city of the Desert King? You’ve never heard of it?���
Ata was busy untying the rope that had begun to chafe his ankles, the rope that he’d used to tow Tavora through the air, knowing that for the time being, because of the wind, they would have to walk. Which meant that the process of finding the globe, and possibly rescuing his friends, if they could ever find them, would take even longer.
���Well it’s not like I’ve grown up here,��� he said, with a bit of a harsh temper. ���How should I know everything about these crazy cities of yours? …Is it far?��� he asked.
���Maybe a half day’s walk,��� she answered. Though this was only a guess on her part, since she’d never actually had the chance to visit the desert city, and had only heard stories of it from her father. Who’d said that, ���it was too dangerous,��� for her to come along.
���But at this rate,��� she said, ���there’s no way for us to get into the city before nightfall. The gates will be closed.��� And then she added, looking cross, ���And if you hadn’t gulped down all our water, there’d still be plenty left over for us to drink.��� She pulled the empty container from their bag as she spoke, to prove her point.
���Fine,��� Ata said, already beginning to walk away from her, traveling westwardly toward the reddening sun. ���…I suppose you would have liked to walk this whole way,��� he yelled, as she ran to catch up. ���You’re not light, you know.���
Tavora gasped aloud, she could not believe what she was hearing.
���And if you hadn’t run away, this morning-��� he began to say.
���If I hadn’t run away?��� Tavora repeated. ���If you hadn’t accused me of murder,��� she answered back.
Ata’s face was flustered, as he continued to walk all the more quickly, and pulled a dark bit of hair away from his eyes.
���Yah, well if you hadn’t deserved it,��� he said loudly, the words spreading across the desert fields.
���Ahh!���
Tavora let out a breath of disgust. And looking away from him as she spoke, she said, ���You’re nothing like I thought you would be,��� she said in a shallow breath, and she took a step to the side, so that she would not have to walk so close to him.
In that manner, the two continued for a very long time, as the sun sank lower in the sky, shining its colors onto dirt and rocky mountains, and reflecting across the desert plains.
(These desert plains were not at all what most would think of when they hear the word ���desert���, though this is the exact word that is used in Gleomu, and so I have decided to use it myself. But I feel as if I must clarify the use of this word, so that you will not be confused.
This type of desert was not the dry, Arab sand dunes sort of desert that you might be imagining, but simply a very parched and arid land, with yellowed and brown grasses, instead of the vibrant green that you would see in Gleomu, and dry brush, and the very few trees that were there were twisted and gnarled, and too sparse to give sufficient shade. So that this place was more accurately a semi-desert, or a semi-arid climate. And not the sort of Lawrence of Arabia, camels and sandstorms type of desert, which might have come to mind when you first read the words.)
After the sun had reached the horizon line, and after Ata had had a good long while to come to terms with the fact that this girl, as much as she seemed to be weighing him down, hindering his efforts of finding their globe and his friends, that she was actually a help to him. And upon this realization he began to soften.
���There was a time, I thought my father was a traitor,��� he said after a long while. ���And it ate at me.���
Tavora stared at him with a visible apprehension. There were creases around her lips and nose as she spoke. ���I heard the story from the King’s herald,��� she said, shaking her head lightly. ���Your father wasn’t a traitor. He helped save your world from your enemies, whomever they were, and that’s not the same thing at all.���
���No, I know it’s not,��� he answered, as purposefully as he could. ���But, at the time, it felt like the same thing,��� he said. ���I know how it feels… and I’m sorry.���
Tavora looked away, towards the last light of sunset, trying to hide any emotion on her face. ���The sun’ll be set soon…��� she said, like she hadn’t heard him. ���We’ll need to remember which way we’re headed.���
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sending a Message
A message was sent back to Ismere by the afternoon, carried by way of paid messenger and not the King’s royal attendant. Though the boy who carried Ata’s letter by horseback was honorable, so that the contents of this note were kept hidden, and only shared among the royal families of Earth and of Gleomu.
Those who could be told about the disappearance of the globe had just returned to the palace,
late the night before, all sent on some anonymous journeys spread outward like a fan through the kingdom. And they’d all come back to the palace in a synchronized manner, having found no trace of the globe, and were preparing to leave, once more, that afternoon. In attempts to make wider and more sweeping searches, that was until Ata’s letter had arrived.
���He’s found it. I know he has,��� Matilde said to the group, as they huddled in a private locked meeting room.
That day they had all tried to keep jolly and inconspicuous attitudes, but even their best attempts at this had failed them, for there were no means by which to hide their worry completely.
���What does he mean, ‘he has a guide’?��� Asa said, after the note was read.
���Should we raise the army?��� Delany asked, worriedly holding her chin.
Though no one answered her directly, because nearly all of them felt that war would be inevitable. Instead, the rest of the group, which also included King Wilbur, and all the royal princes and princesses of Gleomu and their spouses, they all began to mumble to each other about ���what war would look like, if their enemy had access to the globe���, or about the misfortune of having to fight another war, after they’d so recently rebuilt Ismere from the last one.
Yet, as they continued to discuss these things, King Corwan, who’d been deep in thought the entire time, stood up from his chair without saying a word, and went to a low shelf to retrieve a book of maps, which he then set deliberately upon the room’s large center table, drawing everyone’s attention immediately.
The book was set open to a map of the desert lands to the west, and the city of Anad.
���If the globe is headed west, across the bridge at Bethharbor, then there is no doubting it’s intended for the Desert King, and he will use it against us in battle, without question,��� the King said.
Then Wilbur interjected, speaking with a concerned frown upon his face. ���But aren’t we on good terms with him?��� he asked. ���Isn’t there peace?��� he added.
���Sure, there is peace, if you would call it that, but we are not blind, either,��� King Corwan answered. ���Agreements, which were written of men, can be unwritten.���
Queen Delany stood up from her seat. ���We’ll alert the generals. We can have the army ready by tonight.���
���No,��� the King answered, yet with a polite tone so to not offend his queen’s good suggestion.
���We should alert the generals, I agree. But while we still have our surprise we should use it. If we send a regiment of merchants, so called [while turning the book of maps around so that all could see it], traveling through the canyon pass, and onward through the desert, we might yet be able to steal back that which is ours, and avoid such a pronounced and bloody war,��� he said, ending his speech with his finger firmly planted on the desert city.
At the same time that the King was placing his finger upon the map of Anad, in the desert plains, a weary and parched man hobbled into that same city, leading a disheartened cart horse by the reins, almost forcibly pulling her in through the city gates.
The contents of his cart had been covered over with a sheet, and in that busy sea of traders and cargo merchants, his simple cart went unnoticed. Yet, it carried in secret the most treasured object in all the galaxy, a weapon or a tool, to be used for the greatest amount of evil, or the dearest good.
A lone lion shrieked and roared outside the walls of that mountainous mausoleum building, and the sound of it rattled through the cracks of their sealed tomb.
���Do they always scream so loud?��� Barbara asked, shuttering at the wickedness of that sound.
���None as loud as that one,��� Arthur answered. ���She’s the matron of the group. She’ll send the others to hunt for her, but she’ll never hunt, herself.���
���How can you tell it’s her?��� Timothy asked, after the roaring had ceased.
���I’ve spent a lifetime running from them, here in hiding,��� the bearded and ragged looking man replied. ���I can always tell it’s her.���
Chapter Twenty-Six
Talk of Stars
The desert stars poured out over the darkened landscape. Night had fallen, and the barren cold made Ata and Tavora bundle up warmly, wrapped up in their coats, as they continued to traipse along with no obvious end in sight.
���Are you sure this is the way?��� Ata asked, putting a strain in his voice to show that he was not convinced.
���I told you,��� Tavora answered, holding the neck of her coat as tightly as she could, ���I know my stars.���
And to give Ata’s worried mind at bit of easing, she added, ���See that star over on the horizon?��� she asked, pointing toward the sky. ���The bright one?���
���It’s not that bright,��� Ata answered.
Tavora breathed a sigh, but let his skeptical comments pass by her.
���That, Mr. Doubter, is Bar, the constellation of the Great Boar. That bright star is the tip of his nose, which points toward the west in winter [then pointing slightly higher]. And those two lesser stars are the ends of his tusks… Do you see it now?���
Ata squinted his eyes and smirked as he replied, ���I see a bunch of dots, but I’ll take your word for it.���
���Are you serious?!��� Tavora exclaimed. ���You’re impossible. Do you know that?���
He laughed.
���No, I see it. I was joking… Yes, Bar, the Great Pig. I got it,��� he said.
Tavora shook her head, so that her curled hair swayed in the starlight.
���And anyway,��� she said to make her point. ���You can see the city from here.���
���Now that I know is impossible,��� he said incredulously. ���It’s way too dark to see anything like that.���
���No,��� she said, stretching out the word. ���It’s precisely because it is so dark that you can see it.���
Yet, Ata still did not believe, and so she continued, ���See that haze in the distance?��� And without giving him time to respond, she added, ���That’s what a city looks like, when it’s completely dark everywhere else, you can see the haze of its lights out over the horizon, even if you can’t see the city itself.���
And as they walked below the starry night, Tavora explained how she had learned all this, and about how she had lived away from the city her whole life, so that she’d grown to notice things like stars, and the haze of city lights upon the horizon.
Their footsteps kicked through the desert grass, as they continued to keep their eyes focused on the almost unnoticeable glow of lights ahead of them, and without conversation. All until Tavora had asked this question, which she’d often wondered about:
���What is Earth like?��� she asked.
Though Ata had a hard time explaining it. Saying that Earth was sometimes like Gleomu, but only busier.
���How so?��� she asked.
���Well, I don’t know. It just is,��� he said. ���People are faster on Earth, there’s more to do.���
���Like what? Come on, Ata, please tell me. What do people do on Earth?��� she asked.
Yet, Ata still had a hard time, at first, trying to explain what all of humanity did on Earth, in a way that would make sense. And so, he began to describe what he did, instead. Telling her about how he would sometime get together with the boys from the orphan house, with the ones who were late adopted, like himself, and with the ones who’d not been adopted at all, and how they would like to go fishing at the docks.
And then he told about how he had liked to go to the one theater in the city that would play American movies, and about how he would be sure to go every month, when the newest ones would be shown.
However to this, Tavora asked what a movie was. But to explain what a motion picture was, to someone who’d never even seen a photograph, was a bit of a challenge.
Ata stumbled over his words. ���Well it’s like…��� he began to say. ���It’s like a play… but a play that’s been recorded, so that anyone can watch it whenever they feel like it.���
���Oh, we have that,��� Tavora replied. ���People write out plays all the time, and traveling troupes of actors will perform them in the city squares.���
Though, Ata’s expression showed that she hadn’t quite understood him, and so he tried again. ���No… imagine, imagine a set of still pictures that move so quickly that you’d thought they had come to life, and there’s sound too, so you’d think they were talking to you.���
Tavora blinked her eyes and pulled back her head in disbelief.
���And what do these talking paintings tell you?��� she asked.
He shrugged. ���I don’t know. Whatever you’d like them to, I guess.���
She smiled at this bewildering, otherworldly boy. ���Earth sounds so strange,��� she said.
���Yes, you might be right,��� Ata answered, coming to grips with how impossibly bizarre Earth now seemed to him, if he’d thought about it from her perspective. Which, I feel as if I must add, was the very moment he’d stopped taking this girl for granted; And not soon enough, in my opinion.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Desert City
Much earlier that day, before the sun had set, Oded drove his poor horse through the narrowing streets of Anad. This was not the beautiful, elegant place that Ismere was. It was all grey stoned, with sheets hung over the windows, instead of wooden shutters like you would see in the capital of Gleomu. And the street pavings were crevassed and in disrepair from having been left to themselves for so many years.
The Histories of Earth, Books 1-4: In the Window Room, A Prince of Earth, All the Worlds of Men, and Worlds Unending Page 50