Io Deceneus: Journal of a Time Traveler (The Living Universe)

by Florian Armas

  “Sarul, the little snake; things are going reach a conclusion soon. They are acting as if there is no need for the Council anymore.” They already tried to kill me, and Batranu, and Airan… And Garon.

  “I am sure that you are prepared for any circumstances.” And she looked so innocent when saying this. You vanish and we fight...

  “Both Factions will try to attack us.” Garon’s cold body shadowed my mind. Cold and stiff... I prefer to stay warm. “Are you still under contract to protect us?”

  “If you remember, your loss will badly affect me. There is a strong bond between us, which no force in the universe can break, apart from the Black Eye himself. This will definitely not be the case. And of course the contract will expire at the end of your vacation,” she joked to raise our morale. “No one can expel you by force.” You are right, they will not expel us, they will kill us. “You can leave here only through my channels,” Cold and stiff, like Garon. “But that doesn’t mean that the Factions will not use other Gates to attack you. If you are unmasked... As I told you, this would be a major rule change.”

  “Gates would not refuse to attack an innocent man. They need some fun too. No one thinks that this contradicts your own rules.”

  “There is no contradiction. As you always emphasize, we are not designed for human behavior; Gates never attack, they only allow people to use energy allowed by contracts. Killing is bad, but killing evil out of necessity is allowed if it can preserve life; you are already aware of this. They are only doing their duties with no direct access to real information when a contract is created. For them you would be the evil trying to stop an enhancement process for the civilization here. Should they have had any contact with you before ...” She deliberately left the last words in suspension, another ‘teaching’ session just finished.

  “How can they hide information from Gates? We are open books for you each time.”

  “Factions have much more knowledge on technologies and rules, they know when and how to block access to information, at least parts of them. Discretion is mandatory in any mission and everything is based on bona fides, which of course are not always genuine. In time, you will learn. Before asking how, major enhancements are needed. Of a type both of you seem to be very afraid of.”

  “And if they broke the rules?” I pressed on, trying to assess their way of working.

  “There were in the past, Factions lost and forgotten on distant planets or others with their access to the Gates cut. The name Hell surely tells you something, but they are also knowledgeable about the rules and how to bend them a little.”

  “New rules, maybe? Or better expressed ones, in order to avoid twisting?”

  “It could be, but then what would happen to your nice vacation here?”

  *

  The Assembly was summoned for a special session without the King's or Arun's consent and that was bad news. This had never happened before. Sarul and Aizac were able to gather the mandatory eighty signatures calling for it. While this was still short of having a majority, it did not help to improve our mood. We had won the game in the Council, only to now become the biggest losers. What the hell do they want? There must be a reason why they openly confronted both leaders – the King and the Assembly’s vice-president.

  “They used the same means we employed in the Library Council.” The Queen had just put a nail in my coffin. “We should have expected such a strategy from them. Once you open the can of worms they are in plain view. I am wondering what they want to achieve.” Houston will love you ... and kill me.

  The first day of the session passed with no incidents or great revelations. Whatever cards Sarul and Aizac had they were keeping them close to their chests. As for us, we were too confused to plan something, and without too much fanfare adopted a wait-and-see approach. But this was mostly to convince ourselves that we really had a plan. There was also another thing which made us quiver; both our main opponents came into the assembly hall wearing black hats.

  Next morning The Sun and The Moon, in unison, had large headlines: the Erins are killing our people; the Marshal is useless in his function. The new Magister is the Erins’ friend, he even taught them our language and allowed them to read our books. Sarul was smiling when I entered the hall.

  “Southerners are not very popular these days, great warrior.”

  “A tool is no more than a tool, used and discharged when no longer needed. I am not wearing used black hats.” His smile faded, but only a little.

  At the end of the day they raised a motion against me and Talian – for not being fit for the hard times now hitting the poor Baragan Kingdom – to be voted on in three days, and asked to make the meetings public. Opposition orators took the podium to point their finger at me, telling everybody how badly I was behaving and how they would really save the Kingdom in my place. I was almost ready to tell them, okay, this is your rifle and your parachute, take the plane and go to fight, but they would not have understood. And again, I saw many similarities between Earth and the local hawks; both categories were ready to fight until the last drop of other people’s blood.

  *

  Scorylo signed the contract without blinking, and Xiliaxix did not comment on his lack of reaction, yet he still had something to comment.

  “In four months our contracts with the Third Faction will end. With not enough contacts here, they will retreat. We will go too. You are here to stay.” You don't care about us, just need your quota. The same strategy everywhere, take advantage of people, push them up and use them.

  “You want people that count in the game, not bystanders. Most of them are already with the other two Factions.”

  “There are some young ones, with a bright future in the Military School.”

  “They are too young.” They don't deserve this.

  “Too young to die, I agree.”

  *

  On the fourth day, The Sun and The Moon came out with a special edition: ‘Tomorrow you will know the truth!’ ‘A speech will be delivered in the Assembly!’ ‘Kick the traitors!’ ‘Demonstrate for the nation’s salvation!’ 'Go to the Assembly Halls!’ ‘Go! Go! Go!’ ‘We are a free country, don’t be afraid to speak!’ Demonstrate … rights … democracy… For you it means only one word: money. You think you will gain more of it. If you win, you will gain … death. Dava will be destroyed, you idiots. You will escape into the forests, for a while. You can eat your gold there, before the Anogi kill you. I had problems to enter the Hall; small groups were picketing the entrance with banners asking to punish the traitors: Talian and me. An egg passed close to my head, then another one. I had to run. They were well-prepared and trained to generate impetus in the crowd, acting methodical and professional. Who taught you? Taught? Conditioned? Both. Unfortunately, we could not explain to the other Assembly members what kind of psychological warfare was lashed against us; caught between Houston’s insistence on not interfering in the Baragans' collective psyche and their inability to discern such psychological subtleties, I struggled to find a way out, I found only a blocked mind. If what is happening now is not interference, I don't know what is, I mumbled. The King, for the first time, talked about conceding in part without being very explicit about this, causing raised eyebrows from the Queen and Altamira. I glanced at them and said nothing. No speech was delivered that day, though the tension started to grow as intentioned.

  On my way home, I passed the main park where the orator's stone was sited, for anyone wanting to express his ideas to the public. Around one hundred people were gathered there and I heard my name, then the word ‘traitor’ again followed by: “Hang them!” “Hang them!” Then agitation faded and most of them went away. The ‘hang them’ was too much and Sarul (now I could see the stone, I could see he was the orator) had lost the momentum. Earth's strategies were sometimes useless here. People were too innocent. Still, it was a bad feeling to hear calls for my hanging, it was a sign that the climax was approaching. As the people came near, I lengthened my stride and went
home.

  “Deceneus,” the whisper came from the shadow. I turned to my right, where I had the feeling the sound was coming from, my hand on the sword’s hilt. I recognized the owner of the whisper and let my guard down.

  *

  The fifth day The Sun and The Moon declared in unison: ‘Thousands of people demonstrated yesterday for peace; today is the day of truth.’ Less than a hundred people had been transformed, by newspaper magic, into a large crowd of thousands, war and hanging into a fight for peace, and Sarul was the first orator in the Assembly, ready to exploit the newspapers’ cheap incitement, like a shrewd politician.

  “Yesterday,” he started, “a show of discontent took place in the park. People are asking for guidance, people are asking for safety. We were elected for this noble duty, and some of us are not rising to the level of trust accorded to them. There are rumors of treason, yes treason. I know it is a hard word. We are in danger, and to stop disorder we have to take strong measures. We cannot allow enemies to take over our society, we have to fight them and for this, we need strong leadership, someone with special powers, for a limited time, of course. After that things will return to normality, the civic rights will be restored. You have my word on this.” You will restore nothing. “We cannot allow women and children to be killed with impunity. I promised you today the proof of treason.” He raised his eyes and surveyed the audience, and at that moment, he was the point of attention – almost a king. He calculated every break for more suspense. “I will introduce to you, now, a strong warrior who valiantly fought against our enemies, only to be side-lined by those who are ruling now.” Scharon made his entrance in the Assembly, together with Aizac.

  “He is right, this is the moment of truth,” I whispered to the silent and desperate questions coming from all directions. Aizac's gaze was defiant; the sight of our frightened faces pleased him.

  “You all know that our esteemed Marshal Garon is dead, and no efforts were made to explain his death. You also know that Scharon lost his hand while fighting our enemies.” You coward, you killed Garon. You exploit even Scharon's infirmity. What do you expect? Love declarations? Under that black hat is a black mind. Fight or go home. “What was the reward for his courage and his suffering? He was dismissed by the same people who want you to be helpless against our enemies. He was set aside by people of our own in collusion with the enemy. I publicly accuse the Marshal and the Magister of high treason, and the Royal family of being blind to their treason. Scharon is the proof of all I have just said. Look at them!” he pointed towards us. “Look at them! And you have the answer to all the deaths happening in our country. They have to pay. I ask you to introduce the death penalty for treason. Patriots! Save our country. Trust us. Make them pay.” It did not matter that they were the ones killing their own people; his hand was exposing us to public shame. The silence in the crowd had the heavy stillness of death. Aizac abruptly started to boo and, at his sign, his own supporters, then all their people did the same. Shouts of ‘shame’ erupted everywhere. There were no more people in the Hall, only a well-manipulated crowd, a crowd without a mind of its own, playing on the master’s tune, a political mob. Aizac solemnly guided Scharon to the speaker's platform, and Sarul ceremoniously let him take his place.

  “Sarul is right,” Scharon started his speech without looking at any of us. “We are betrayed by our own people.” He paused and moved his gaze from one part of the Assembly to another in order to gather their attention. The King stood up abruptly in a last attempt to try to save something.

  “Scharon, you are a warrior, you have seen many things in your past fights.” A subtle reminder of Scharon's dark past. “Words should be used carefully in these days, as they are days of sorrow. Many of us were laid in graves by the enemy’s hand. Their memory has to be left in peace.” He continued to push the specter of his dark past, of the people he killed. The tone seemed to impress Scharon as his speech stumbled when trying again to speak. “And don’t forget Garon; I never will.” The name hit Scharon, who seemed lost, without any reaction; the King was a subtle orator.

  “We are elected to serve the people, and there is no better thing than the truth to praise their memory.” Sarul sensed Scharon’s difficulty and overrode the King with a broad smile. The ‘truth’, war is peace. Orwell must be happy inside The Field; his previsions are now everywhere. Not happy; proud, proud and sad. Cultural heritage from Earth, our gift for you. The best in the galaxy. “Please continue, Scharon. We all need to hear this. Our country is in danger, our future is in danger. Be a patriot! Help us to save our country. This is our noble mission. Your mission.” The King opened his mouth again but no sound came out, his fists clenched on his armchair, his body fell back like a stone. He closed his eyes and said nothing more.

  “The ones attacking our people are indeed in collusion with some of our rulers. They are under foreign influence and no longer care about our kingdom. They only care about their own games of power.” Silence become heavy and gray, like lead, eyes opened wide, mouths too – the heavy sound of silence.

  “Are they here in this room with us?” Sarul played again for the crowd.

  “Yes they are.” I perceived a tremor in Scharon’s voice, and pain, his hand moving restlessly, his tongue touching his lips.

  “And who are they?” Sarul shouted over the silent hall, his finger pointing to us.

  “The traitor is you, Sarul, you and Aizac. You sold our country to foreigners. You wanted to become king of the Baragans. And you killed my father.”

  I closed my eyes, not able to move even a finger. A sense of triumph engulfed my mind, and happiness, and fear of the next step. I brushed the fear aside. Today we feast. Tomorrow is … well, tomorrow. Scharon had kept his promise from the evening before when we met in the dark. He had warned me about the game Sarul had planned for this day.

  “They are running!” The shout shook me awake, together with all the people in the Hall. By chance, both Sarul and Aizac were close to a side door and had taken advantage of us being stunned. They were gone.

  *

  Handcuffed, Armin was fastened to a pole at his waist by a leather belt; his feet were fastened to some iron rings fixed in the floor. How did they capture you? In front of him a small tub full of water completed the miserable scene. His head was wet and water was running over all his body. They were water-boarding him. Erins’ brains need much more energy than ours and depriving it of oxygen causes them an immense pain, and with all their technology the black hats could not find any other way to interrogate him. The gray who had made the call was already there as was, unsurprisingly, Sarul. He was still considered the main representative of the grays on the planet, even after his expulsion from the council. “Surprised to see me here, Deceneus?” he croaked to us. “Your majesty, also?” The King’s face was full of anger. “Soon we will have a real democracy here with no need for obsolete kings and their relatives and minions to run this country.”

  “Sarul’s money style of democracy, I suppose.”

  “Your venom is futile. Yes, we will run this country and you cannot do anything to stop us. We have the real understanding of things and the power to move them in a new direction.”

  “Are you so sure that people will allow this?”

  “People? They will follow, that is their role. They always follow the stronger and the wiser. Easy to control them having the media and the money’s power on your side. We have both.” His mouth formed a broad smile.

  “And you call this a democracy.”

  “Democracy is an interesting system. It gives the sensation of freedom. When you are ‘free’ you produce more ... for us. You give more ... for us. We will be kind to them and always give them two alternatives for which they can vote, sometimes even more. Only all of them will be in our hands. It is not for the elected to rule but for the ones allowing their election.” He was smiling.

  “You will never be in power...” My words stopped; if they win ... the power will be theirs. They wi
ll be puppets for Travelers but rulers here. I will be okay; I will go home, but them, all the people here... And what is really okay on Earth?

  “Don’t doubt it, and don’t be surprised that I am here for the transition to begin.”

  “There is always a need for despicable tools when miserable things have to be done. But tools are tools, they are used and replaced.” He wanted to snap an answer when the gray interrupted him.

  “I asked you to come here to see with your own eyes the danger represented by the treacherous Erins and to show why a change in the political system is needed. He will confess the abominable things they plan for this planet and for this universe. Not only you but the whole universe is in danger from them.”

  “You water-boarded him; torture is illegal in our kingdom.”

  “Hard times need strong measures, common law doesn’t apply to him, we need vital information,” Sarul sneered. “And we have the power to use whatever we consider to be necessary.” A wicked smile adorned his face.

  “I did not ask you, Sarul. Tools don’t provide answers. I am talking with your master.”

  “The small brain talks too much.” The gray approached menacingly. “Our will always has primacy over your laws, the right of the greater minds to coerce lesser ones for their own good. You are here to listen, not to ask questions. You don’t have the capacity to fully understand the situation; your brains are too undeveloped for this. Erins are an abomination which has to end before destroying all of us.”

  “You are afraid of them. If your brain is such a wonder, why are you not using it to extract whatever you think is in his mind?” I was curious to see his reaction after throwing in his face that the Erin’s brain was a nut too hard for his precious mind to crack, or for his tools. He used such barbaric methods only because they were helpless.