Edge of Revelation

by David John West

  “You are full of surprises,” said Joe. “You and your kind have always been in conflict with us across the galaxy. If you think things may be different here then that may be of interest. What kind of meeting did you have in mind?”

  “Just you and me in a public place of your choosing. A crowded area busy with the locals so we can have a quiet discussion disguised amongst them. Perhaps you could suggest somewhere as you have the advantage of having dwelled in the area longer than I?”

  “I will think of somewhere and call you back.”

  “Agreeable but make it soon – time is pressing and I will not wait for long,” Rakul said and broke the connection.

  Charlotte spoke first after the call. “A Rakul indeed. We are honoured. I never thought we would come across one on this mission. It looks like you got right under their skin, Joe.”

  “Rakul has been unused for a long time,” Joe said. “They have shown up occasionally down the generations but I haven’t met one before. In fact the intelligence I heard said the Omeyns had phased out the male form in one of their cultural purges.”

  “A Rakul is supposed to be quite striking in the flesh. Dangerous, too. You had better be careful about the meeting arrangements,” Charlotte said. Joe smiled thinly, not requiring this helping of motherhood from her.

  “I think it’s going to be pretty straightforward,” Joe answered. “And I think I know just the place.”

  *

  It was a soft, still summer’s eve just before dusk as Joe exited Queens’ College by the Porters’ Lodge and crossed Silver Street Bridge with the mill pool of the River Cam below to his right. To the left of the bridge the river ran fast and narrow between walls where the gardens of the old colleges ran down to the water. He walked past the steps down to the commercial punts by the wide waters of the mill pool. Beyond the facade of the Anchor public house he turned away from the cheery lights to walk down the tiny alley of Laundress Lane. The Mill pub was framed opposite the end of the lane between tight buildings, its tidy sign illuminated by bright bulbs in swan-necked brass fittings. The alley was empty, a hundred yards long, a narrow private space and in this quiet space it struck Joe’s core that he was indeed en route to meet his most dangerous enemy ever. His body started to release adrenaline and endorphins at this thought to enable the heightened state that always accompanied the prospect of combat. His mind became clear as winter sun as he prepared access to every corner of the arcane knowledge stored by his Gayan soul.

  This would not be a meeting of equals though they were both the most senior ranking of their different races in this place. Joe’s rank within the Travellers of Dawn was significantly lower than the leadership role of a Rakul in the Spargan Empire. Joe was not even a lower-caste Worder, he was one of many senior Pointers of Dawn across the Gayan Empire, but a Rakul within Spargar was brother to the ruling sisterhood of the Omeyns. Despite this, Joe was not intimidated. The male Rakul status was obscure compared to the pervasive influence everywhere of the network of female Omeyns in the Spargar leadership. The preponderance of the feminine MuneMeis ensured their control of every facet of Spargar administration. A Rakul was only rarely used in exceptional circumstances that threatened Spargar beyond the capacity of the Conclave of the Omeyns. It would be unlikely that a Rakul would resort to combat one on one in person with him. The likelihood is that, as he had said, he did want to meet a junior adversary at this moment for some intriguing reason of his own. Joe felt open to the event – and interested in the encounter despite the circumstances.

  Joe approached the end of the tight lane and heard the low hubbub of drinkers build in volume before he saw them when he turned the corner towards the river. A noisy crowd had spilled out of the small but popular pub onto the cobbled space that was Laundress Green, across the street from the pub. On the left was the end of the upper river and Scudamore’s punt station, where punts were moored tightly together across the whole dock ready for the morning’s hire. It was a pleasant spot to meet, with views on the right across the wide mill pool of the Cam to the solid span of Silver Street Bridge where more punts were moored for the lower river, bobbing gently in the warm straw-coloured light spilling from the Anchor’s riverside windows. Across this pool was the slim building of Darwin College shoehorned into the thin space between Silver Street and the river. Beyond the bridge and Darwin College were the tall buildings of Queens’ College where Joe lived, rising into the gloaming in dusty pastels. In the crowd drinkers were enjoying their first beers of the evening and unloading the dramas of their day onto their fellows.

  As he looked across the crowd Joe ran into fellow natural scientist students from Queens’ College enjoying the early evening social gathering: Arthur, round and going to fat far too young was there, as was the far taller John, thin and bowed to catch the conversation, the tallest individual by far in the crowd. Joe joined them, but did not order a beer yet. The crowd was getting noisier after their first drink of the day, lots to share and impress their friends with. Above the collective bustle of the crowd, Joe felt the powerful aura of the approaching Rakul; alone, stalking down the lane to join the group as Joe had suggested. Joe felt the primary essence of the Rakul was manifestly cold though not entirely evil. Joe discerned the Rakul would not likely commit evil as a matter of course or predilection; the Rakul simply considered the earthly humans as lower orders and unworthy of his consideration. If he did maltreat the locals it would be construed as evil but that would be accidental, just a matter of their being in the way of the Rakul. Joe noticed a shiny long black beetle scuttle around the wall by the punting dock. A rain beetle, considered immaterial by earthly humans in much the same way the Rakul would consider them inconsequential. Don’t step on a rain beetle lest you bring the rain upon you, thought Joe. Likewise, Rakul would hopefully avoid causing inadvertent harm to these people in case it rebounded on him in an unseen future collision of events.

  Rakul stalked down Mill Lane to the pub past the brooding old buildings that were a mixture of secondary University buildings, neither colleges nor faculties but part of the administration required to keep the whole University city running. They were mostly deserted at this time of evening. He had agreed with Joe that he would be dressed as a military man, a USAF pilot or the equivalent, so that Joe would recognise him. It was highly unlikely that Joe would not spot him immediately anyway as Rakul cut an impressive figure with or without uniform. Rakul saw the crowd from some distance where they filled the junction between the end of the street and the longer view to the old colleges and willows on the far side of the river. Rakul reached the crowd and strode out on the drinking area where the pocket of people immediately around him fell silent to appraise him before returning to their conversations. They were liberal, proud of their open minds and would not react to or even acknowledge such a striking stranger in their midst. The evening light somehow softened Rakul’s hawk-like features and the dome of his oversized cranium as he peered around the group to locate the Gayan. Rakul was half a head taller than the tallest of the pub goers except one. The improbably tall John caught Rakul’s gaze as their two heads rose above the rest of the crowd. Rakul noted that only this one tall figure across the group was the same height as him and wondered if this was Joe. Rakul stared across at John who bowed his head and looked down and away – this was not the behaviour of the Gayan leopard man Rakul was looking for.

  Rakul was unaware that Joe could have spotted his arrival with his spirit open and his eyes closed, attuned as he was to the aura of his enemy as it had approached down Mill Lane, so distinct from all those around him. As tall student John turned away from the challenge of Rakul’s gaze, Joe told them that he had seen his uncle from America arrive and he must go to greet him. He left Arthur and John to their discussions of the afternoon’s organic chemistry practical and weaved through the crowd to confront Rakul.

  Joe stood before Rakul, mildly annoyed he had to crane up to see into Rakul’s blac
k eyes. Rakul looked very foreign in an Avirex fighter pilot jacket with furry hazel wool collar, white tee shirt, jeans and high-top trainers. The jacket was brown leather with USAF style badges which were all indistinct as if it had just been 3D printed from indistinct images for Rakul to wear that evening. Rakul regarded Joe with a thin smile, vaguely indulgent as he might one of his own underlings. “I see you are the one called Joe,” he said slowly and purposefully. “You look just like them.” Rakul indicated the crowd with a wave of his open palm. “How do you do that, I wonder?” Rakul arched an eyebrow but was not surprised to receive no answer. “So you are the Gayan man leading the talks with the authorities in this place. Well not just this place, but also with the military government of this country.”

  “Mr Rakul, I presume?” Joe replied, equally formally, as they shaped up to each other, wondering about the scope of Rakul’s knowledge of their contacts.

  “Indeed, indeed. I hope we can meet under truce conditions. As you can see I come alone to your choice of domain.” Rakul took note of Joe’s appraising glance. “You are surprised at my confidence? Firstly I am in no need of assistance in defending myself among these people and secondly I wanted to have complete freedom for us to talk.”

  “I accept your terms though you should know that in my neighbourhood I am never alone,” Joe replied.

  “That is as maybe. I am most pleased you accepted my invitation. I asked for this meeting as I consider we may be able to effect a trade to our mutual advantage. You have something I want and your presence here must mean we have something that is of interest to you?”

  “You may be right,” Joe replied.“But shall we at least start with a drink?”

  “I thought you were never going to ask,” Rakul smiled. “I always like to try the leisure beverages of new places though you have me at something of a disadvantage; I am not carrying the local tokens to avail myself of one.”

  “Allow me to buy for you then?” Joe said. Days came no stranger than this one even to a Pointer of Dawn tasked with the management of missions across a welter of alien worlds. Joe turned and led the way across the street to the warmly lit interior of the Mill public house, Rakul following.

  Joe edged to the front of the crowd occupying the bar, annoying two drinkers sitting at stools at the bar who obscured Joe’s access to the barman. Joe ordered two pints of pale ale and felt the two drinkers’ irritation at him standing between them, interrupting their conversation. Joe felt the drinker on the right start as if to complain to him, then the seated drinker looked behind Joe to assess the hulking figure of Rakul towering over them both and changed his mind, saying, “Oh I see you brought your own protection with you!” Joe and Rakul both smiled at the drinkers, said nothing, collected their beers and moved back outside.

  The unlikely pair found a space slightly separated from the crowd, hidden in plain view, privacy provided by the buzz of conversation all around. They took a draught of the beer.

  “Interesting, most palatable,” decided Rakul after taking a long draft of ale and sighing with appreciation. “Not as refreshing as Jarlankan Brightways Beer, which you need to slake your thirst in that hot dusty place, but this beverage is entirely fitting here. In this place water is in abundance and everything is blooming and green with it. On Jarlanka the atmosphere is heady with drying maquis, but it lacks the wealth of resources we have seen here.”

  “So you like this planet, then? You certainly made quite a stir on arrival.”

  Rakul smiled, “Glad that you noticed our little show. I had first thought I would get in, complete my mission and then get out again at all speed. A little stirring the pot would help to announce my arrival to the right people and it seems to have worked because here you are.”

  “And now – have you changed your mind then?”

  “I still think we can sort out my mission very quickly, but then this place has considerable attractions.” Rakul looked up and around the orbit of the darkening sky, the first few bright stars and the planet Venus appearing in the soft dark blue, all framed by the surrounding public houses, wharves, college buildings and Silver Street Bridge among the weeping willows. “The reason I think I can sort out my official mission swiftly is I believe someone here is trying to make a point, and that someone is not one of these earthly people, so there is a very good chance that the person I am looking for is you.”

  “You flatter me, I’m afraid. You know we work in our ordered teams and our actions are controlled from afar.”

  “The same is true for me. The Conclave of my Sisters sets the orders and asks for my help only occasionally and seldom with good grace. I think they fear my enthusiasm in obtaining the results they demand. Perhaps it is easier to set the course and give the orders than it is to carry out those orders so they need to call upon me. It is up to you and me to decide how we make things happen and gain success in reasonable timescales. Maybe you too feel under the heel of your leaders on high attempting to keep you under their control from afar? Maybe you would like a few more degrees of freedom than you are afforded? I suspect you recognise some of these same pressures that I know so well?”

  Joe could not ignore the pull of Rakul’s words. The man had considerable charm and Joe was exposed to it in such a direct personal way, despite the knowledge he was in the company of one of his most dangerous enemies. As with any great leader there was truth in his words, which tempered Joe’s natural animosity towards him. “We are all set on a course determined by wiser ones than ourselves,” Joe replied. “That does not stop us from engaging in personal diversions along the way. Our culture does not exclude a personal life. It is a great strength of the Gayan way.”

  “Not so to the minions of the Spargar Empire,” Rakul mused. “But that does not apply to me and my troops. I could even be of some use to you. For instance we discovered your female Gayan accomplice in carnal company with a local Earthman when we came calling unexpectedly on you the other evening. Perhaps you are unaware that your female Gayan partner is in fact sexually inclined towards this Earthman? My warriors may have lost out in their attempts to capture you both that night but this was just one of the interesting factors we discovered as bonuses that I am happy to share with you in a spirit of mutual cooperation.” Rakul looked searchingly into Joe’s open face, seeking some reaction that would betray an emotional weakness there. “Do you wish to know of this?”

  Joe took time to consider, showing no emotion. He is trying to unsettle me in the basest manner. It is good he has no understanding of my real relationship with Charlotte, Joe thought while outwardly absorbing the barb as Rakul watched carefully for his reaction. The weakness lies not with me but in the way he exposes his own ignorance of our Gayan group here in Cambridge. This Rakul clearly has no clue of the family history of Charlotte and myself, and therefore our past encounters with Spargar. For all their analysis and organisation, Spargar still do not comprehend our true nature and capabilities.

  “Thank you for your observations, they may be of use to me,” Joe replied. “And you, Rakul, if the stories we have heard are correct, you are brought forth to do the dirty work of the Sisterhood of Omeyns.” Joe thrust his own barb back into his rival but Rakul seemed relaxed enough.

  “Indeed it is one of the downsides of being an advanced human race. The male of our race becomes increasingly less important as the lawmakers move in and civilisation takes over. Then our females emerge and demand the leadership roles for themselves once the warring comes to an end and we become less useful. But then we humans joust with each other across the heavens all over again. Conflict is never so far away and then we are called back in to do the dirty work, as you say. I see in you a man that has been called to duty in much the same manner as myself. Maybe not so harshly and inconveniently as I myself was called, but called just the same. At least we have that in common, my Gayan friend?”

  Joe smiled at the truth in that. From Charlotte’s close attent
ion to the details of their mission to the Worders directing them from afar, the touch of the Gayan female was never far from his consciousness. “Let’s just say we may have a common understanding in that regard,” Joe replied and they both paused for a draught of amber ale.

  Rakul moved on having made his point. “You will forgive me for asking. How is it that you Gayans of seeming lesser martial skill and physical size can best my most experienced warriors when they came to capture you? I know they call you ‘Dawn Leopards’ out of respect for your combat skills but I still do not see how you manage to fight so well.”

  Joe smiled. It may be that Rakul would be the only mind of Spargar open to the truth that the Gayan advantage lay in their realisation of their past lives, building skills and power over thousands of years. This would always be superior to skills learned over a single lifetime, no matter how assiduously studied, no matter how tried and tested. “You send brave bulls against leopards but they are clumsy and hot-headed.”

  “And how do you think you would fare against me?” Rakul mused. “Leopards of all kinds must bow before lions like myself.”

  “We agreed not to discover the outcome of that question this night among these local people,” Joe replied. “But your analogy breaks down and you are not actually a lion, and we are not leopards. You should believe the evidence of your warriors that tried to capture us unawares only recently.”

  “I agree to set that question aside for now,” deigned Rakul. “So are you open to pursuing an agreement of mutual benefit?”

  “I think we may be able to help each other, depending on the nature of your primary mission.”

  “Oh, that is no secret at all,” Rakul said. “The Conclave have carelessly lost one of their sisters from this location and they take that very seriously indeed. My task is to recover the missing Omeyn and then withdraw before causing them any embarrassment. I get the feeling that you are in a good position to help me with that. After all none other than yourself in this place has that capacity. Perhaps there is something I can do that would assist you in return?”