Awakening
Page 47
*
He left the forest, heading north, and quickly spotted Kingston’s silhouette in the distance. The hermit had climbed to the top of a steep hill, and had his back turned towards Barsch. From this distance, he looked strong and healthy, but Barsch knew that that was an illusion.
Although he had not intended to sneak up on his friend, Kingston nevertheless jumped when Barsch suddenly appeared by his side. The old man had been focused on something in the distance, but Barsch could not see anything of importance on the horizon. They were standing on a large embankment, which divided into two paths as it wound its way north. The upper path rose quickly, becoming a series of slopes and valleys dotted with thorny shrubs. The lower path was rockier, and hugged the cliffside as the land drew away from the ocean.
“Ah, Barsch, good morning! Did you sleep well?” Kingston was using a jubilant tone, which Barsch knew was for his own peace of mind.
“Yeah… um, Kingston… do you know where Alza is?” If Kingston was going to hide his real emotions, then Barsch would play along, for his sake.
“It seems that she left us sometime in the night, taking half of our supplies with her,” Kingston paused for a moment and pointed to a barely visible line of disturbed grass coming from the forest. “That’s actually what I’m out here for. I was trying to track her footprints, but this was as far as I got. I was just about to come find you…”
Barsch saw Kingston’s eyes narrow as he spotted Lanista, which had been secured to his pack using a few of the spare clasps.
“I thought that it might be safer, you know, if I had something to defend myself with.” There was no need to mention the mysterious voice to Kingston. The old man had enough things to worry about without Barsch adding more.
“Ah, I see. Good thinking.”
“Thanks.”
He joined Kingston in surveying the path, wondering which route the old man would choose. The upper path would be more physically challenging, and Barsch doubted that he would be able to keep a good pace through the hills.
Sure enough, Kingston began walking down the slope, motioning for Barsch to follow him. A few minutes later, the rising cliffs had blocked their view of the forest, leaving only the frothy ocean below. At first they walked in silence, but soon Barsch’s youthfulness reappeared, and he started asking question after question. Kingston, in turn, seemed happy to have the youth’s full attention once more, and he regaled him with stories of the Quantum Age. Barsch listened in amazement as Kingston spoke about a world he had never known. He had been born after the South Wars had already decimated the world, leaving only ruins for the next generation to explore.
Kingston was well versed on dozens of topics, from philosophy to astrophysics, and Barsch was once again struck by just how much he did not know about the man he travelled with. Soldier, scientist, exile and friend… what else lay beneath Kingston’s kindly exterior?
That day, Barsch learnt more about P-Branes, gravity manipulation, accelerated healing and parallel universes than he ever thought possible, and something told him that he had only received a tiny percentage of Kingston’s vast knowledge. He heard about Sage Iager, a man considered by the scientific world to be a babbling fool; and the religious world as the greatest prophet to ever exist. He learnt details about great scientists like Professor Erigor Von Carthage and Professor Valmann that most journalists would kill for.
However, this barrage of information was not a simple one-sided lecture. Barsch, in turn, spoke of his childhood, and the hardships he had experienced. He told Kingston about the frequent evacuations, the uncertainty, and the friends he had lost. It was clear that their lives had been very different, but they had both lived through the end of the world, though from different sides.
As they spoke, the landscape gradually began to change. The cliffside path, once wide enough for both to walk abreast, soon narrowed to an uncomfortable width. The calm sea became enraged, sending up swells to buffet them and cold sprays to soak them. If he had been alone, Barsch was sure that he would have been miserable, but with Kingston at his side, he was actually enjoying himself.