Daybreak of Revelation

by A N Sandra

  Everyone but Tilly turned to face her, Tilly looked at Daniel, who was looking at Doctor Justin looking at Sadie.

  Chapter 9

  Ancient Times

  Golda set the last ivory box in her personal store cupboard before locking the doors. It pained her to lock up anything. When she and the other half-Eternals had founded Atlantis, they had been a community dedicated to absolute trust in each other and committed to the pursuit of higher knowledge. For more than sixty years it had been unnecessary to lock up anything at all. Now Golda looked over her shoulder constantly, worried that Wesslan would come into her research area and destroy years of her research because of his fears about it.

  “Can you come play?” Barden asked as Golda stepped outside the lab into the sunshine.

  “It’s always pleasant to walk with you on the beach.” Golda smiled. Cattu ran to her, leaving her post by the laundry where she had been keeping Jurgon and his friends from bothering the young women there.

  Daily walks on the beach with Barden and Ursu kept Golda from feeling increasingly isolated as the colony of Atlantis began to polarize in opinion about what to do as the Blood Drinkers grew stronger. Trying to reconcile her oldest friends to new beliefs was a great challenge. For so long there had been a deep bond of shared experience among the original colony members, who could not agree about anything to do with the coming threat of the Blood Drinkers. Barden had never been part of the community so spending time with him was not stressful.

  “Have you got all your samples?” Barden asked when they were out of earshot of everyone else. Ursu frolicked in the waves, taunting Cattu, who, no matter how big she might be, was a cat who did not care for swimming. That didn’t stop her from chasing him into the water, just to let him know she was not afraid of him.

  “I have a sample from every totem animal that belonged to one of us—born to fighters against the void,” Golda told him. “Avem was the last sample I needed, and I preserved it just before we met for our walk.”

  It was such a relief to speak to someone genuinely interested in what she was working on. Even Sith, who respected her opinions, and who she was mostly in complete agreement with, was made nervous by Golda’s samples. Sith even refused to spend time by the samples to test Golda’s claim that each one brought serenity to the area surrounding it and managed to calm the thinking of the people in the immediate vicinity. Golda’s research had accelerated with each new sample preserved in her cabinet, but that very power frightened every other half-Eternal, who worried about replicating the troubles their fathers had brought into the world when they created children on Earth. That made no sense to Golda who couldn’t understand why the colony wouldn’t gather all the good energy they could to make the colony better. Feeling like an outsider was painful, but Barden’s companionship saved her sanity.

  “I would like to see your lab, but I suppose my presence there would upset Wesslan. He made it plain that we are just visitors,” Barden told Golda. “I will be content with our pleasant evening walks.”

  “It is wonderful that you are here, and that Cattu and I have made new friends,” Golda said warmly. “Working with my samples is very satisfying, but I do it alone. Without the samples in my boxes to keep me focused, I would have given up my work.”

  “I understand why your work frightens your fellow colonists,” Barden told her. “The Blood Drinkers are so determined to take total dominion of the Earth that they will twist your research if they get it.”

  “The same people who say we shouldn’t fight the Blood Drinkers because they will never bother us are the same people who say the Blood Drinkers will seize my research and use it against us,” Golda felt so relaxed around Barden and Ursu and Cattu that she laughed at her own observation instead of grinding her teeth in frustration as she sometimes did when she pondered the subject. “I am forced to test my samples very discreetly. They work best when they are used around mortals, although they help calm quarter-Eternal people better than half-Eternals. The main reason they help me so much is that I have so many. Now I have twelve.”

  “Have you thought of taking samples of the snakes the Blood Drinkers have?” Barden asked.

  “I’ve thought of it,” Golda admitted. She grinned. “I think of lots of things I would study if I had time and leeway. Probably none would be more dangerous than that.”

  Barden laughed at the idea of Golda wrestling the huge winged serpents to obtain samples, and she joined him. Several mortal girls who had been walking along the beach turned longingly toward the sound of their laughter that carried over the sounds of the sea and the squabbles of birds hunting for shellfish washed up from the surf. The laughter of part-Eternals always pulled the emotions of mortals the way the moon pulls the tides.

  “Those snakes aren’t the same as our animals,” Barden said. “I’ve been close to them a few times and they don’t make me feel safe, they scare me. They must be protecting their Blood Drinker companions… but they are not the same as Ursu or Cattu.”

  “I didn’t think they are the same as Ursu or Cattu at all,” Golda said. “They provide security for their Blood Drinkers as Cattu does for me, but the snakes don’t calm the people near to them. They…” Golda searched for the words.

  “When people are close to Ursu they are able to think clearly and make good decisions,” Barden said. “But people near the snakes do not become calm, they become frightened or aggressive. The snakes are creatures of the void.”

  “I agree,” Golda said. “The snakes want to unmake the world.”

  “The void is always waiting,” Barden said. “Always.”

  “I’m doing everything I can to hold it back,” Golda said. “If everyone would help…”

  “None of your friends agree with your plan,” Barden looked over the ocean. He seemed to be deciding if he wanted to say something. “They think your research is dangerous.”

  “If my research doesn’t work, if they don’t come to my point of view, the only hope left lies with Noah.” Golda was a woman of great intelligence, but she could not put into words her problem with that. Trusting a man who was building something no one understood while the rest of the world was falling apart seemed so foolish.

  “Noah listens to the Creator. He knows things we don’t.”

  “No mortal could know more than I do,” Golda said firmly. “I’ve listened to Noah and he makes no sense.”

  “Now you sound like Wesslan,” Barden said gently. “Noah makes a lot of sense, but no one wants to hear what he has to say.”

  There was a long pause as the sound of the shorebirds and the waves were all that could be heard.

  “Prejudice is an ugly thing,” Golda allowed. It was hard not to feel superior to mortals, but the truth was that they were not less beings, simply different. “It makes a wise person foolish. I will examine myself to keep on a wise path.”

  “Or I could just tell you what you want to hear,” Barden joked.

  “Too many people already think that’s an option.”

  “Of course,” Barden answered. “The truth is never seductive.”

  “No, the truth is less desirable than ear candy,” Golda said. “But doing away with it would not be wise in these times.”

  Chapter 10

  October 15th, Interior Alaska Homestead

  Miss Jan had everyone make a color wheel for the first art lesson she gave in the storage room. There was still meat hanging up by the entryway where it was colder. The back of the storage area had a small space heater for Miss Jan’s art studio, but it was still chilly enough that they wore flannel shirts and boots while they dabbed paint onto their color wheels. Helena wasn’t satisfied with hers. She felt Lourdes’s was better, but Peter’s was extremely slapdash, and Ray had managed to make every color on his wheel a murky brown.

  “Color influences feelings,” Miss Jan said as they all looked at their completed color wheels. “Can you think what colors make you happiest when you see them?”

  “Purple,”
Lourdes said. “I love purple.”

  “Orange,” Peter said.

  “I like blue, but I like some shades more than others,” Helena mused out loud.

  “Ray?” Miss Jan prodded.

  “I don’t like art lessons,” Ray said.

  Miss Jan chose - wisely - not to engage him and went on with her thoughts.

  “No color can stand alone,” Miss Jan said. “Everyone needs complimentary colors to round out what you really see when you look at a color. Peter and Helena have complimentary favorite colors. Blue,” she pointed to blue on her own color wheel, “and orange are complementary colors. When you use one, a little of the other pleases the eye…”

  Helena began a two-tone painting with blue and orange. Making the painting took her mind off things, the same way cooking did. As she focused on making even blue strokes across her paper, she didn’t think about missing Maria, or school. Helena hadn’t had any good friends at school, she hadn’t had a best friend since Lacie Grayson had moved away in the fifth grade, but she had had close acquaintances and had enjoyed many aspects of school when she wasn’t being bullied.

  Unfortunately, her mother was in charge of her education now and her mother valued math and sciences above all else. Helena’s favorite parts of school had been PE and literature. The curriculum that she was working through was heavy on Bible stories, which were often interesting in themselves, but the curriculum used to interpret them was at odds with the liberal arts education she had received most of her life. There were no shades of gray or multiple meanings, there was only right or wrong. Having no explanation for behavior other than sin made the patterns of the stories flat. The behavior of people in Bible stories often seemed random to Helena, causing her to not be sure if she was understanding them correctly.

  Helena predicted that her new favorite part of school would be art lessons, but that would only be three days a week. At least she had books to read and dinners to cook. She wished there was more to do outside. It was hard to be inside so much, even for a bookworm.

  “There is a full moon tonight,” Duane said when Helena was leaving the storage building after her art lesson. The ground was covered with snow and Helena’s boots settled into the soft powder as they walked.

  “Are you a werewolf?” Helena asked with mock concern.

  “No, but people who go snow tubing should have really good visibility.”

  “Did you blow up the inner tubes?” Helena felt excitement rising in her chest.

  “I spent the last couple of days building a run first. Down the hill over there.” Duane gestured toward the hill Helena had come down four and a half months ago for the first time. The light was dim, but what there was reflected off the snow, and now that she was looking for it, Helena could see two faint lines in the white landscape. They must be the snow Duane had stacked up on either side of his sled run.

  “Oh, I’m in.” Helena grinned. “So in!”

  “So, when we’re done eating dinner, want me to come get you and Peter? Tawna said to keep it a surprise for Ray and Lourdes. She’s just going to have them put on their snow clothes and take them up herself.”

  “I’ll be ready whenever you want,” Helena said quickly. Then she felt her cheeks turn a little red. She hoped he didn’t read more into the dumb things she blurted out sometimes. Being around Duane often made her more than just a little nervous at first. When they spent any real time together, she felt very comfortable with him, but small interactions sometimes found her saying things she hoped weren’t fraught with innuendo.

  Helena made moose burgers for dinner that evening. She served them on biscuits instead of buns because she was too impatient to wait for hamburger buns to rise. Maria had usually purchased bread, but she occasionally made it from scratch and Helena knew that was not easy. Miss Jan did it every week since she had moved into her completed house, and she gave a loaf to Tawna and one to Christina every time she did. Peter would then eat half the loaf in hours. Helena didn’t count on getting much of it.

  “Dad’s knocking,” Peter announced to Helena.

  “Well, let him in, I made enough for him too,” Helena said.

  Christina rolled her eyes just a little, but she was very gracious when Peter ushered him to the table.

  “Hello, Joel,” she said. “The kids are hoping you will stay for a moose burger on a biscuit.”

  “Of course,” Mr. Harris said, a relieved smile on his face. “How could I miss a moose burger on a biscuit?”

  No one asked if Tawna knew that Mr. Harris stayed to eat every day. He always came to check on Peter and Helena’s school work, and probably Tawna didn’t know that her husband was sitting down to eat with his children and his ex-wife before or after he did it. Helena didn’t know if he stayed for the food or the company or both, but it was nice to eat with him every day without suffering Tawna.

  “These are delicious,” Mr. Harris told Helena as he ate his second moose biscuit burger.

  “Thanks,” Helena said. She didn’t tell him that she had added a lot of fat to the meat as she ran it through the grinder and further moistened the meat with olive oil. Maria had taught her never to be afraid of fat. “Sorry there’s no lettuce, but the onion and tomato are the very last of what’s left from the garden. After this, no more tomatoes at all.”

  “I saw you hide some onions,” Peter accused.

  “I can’t make thanksgiving stuffing with onions,” Helena was shocked. “I already don’t have any celery.”

  “I don’t think we can get a turkey or even a large bird,” Mr. Harris frowned. “Bird hunting is getting hard around here with the birds flying south.”

  “I can make stuffing in a pan, just like Maria made the extra stuffing. She used oysters. There are some cans of oysters in the storage. There is no other time we’re going to eat them, right?”

  “Sounds good,” Christina said. “I’m sure it will be delicious. If you’re going sledding, you’d better get ready. I’ll do the dishes.”

  “I won’t pass that up,” Helena said, pushing her plate back just slightly before standing up. “I’ll go get ready to play in the snow.”

  Anytime Helena did something with Duane she took special care of her appearance. There were no cosmetics in the storeroom other than some hair coloring supplies that belonged to Tawna, but Helena could still fix her hair carefully and smooth her eyelashes with Vaseline to darken them and she did the same with her lips. The only pair of earrings she had were the ones she had been wearing in Cancun when she left for the dinner cruise that had turned into a fateful event, but they were sparkly posts and she put them in after she put on her powder blue ski suit.

  “Not bad,” Helena told herself in front of the small mirror in her loft. Of course, she couldn’t stand all the way up and check herself out from every angle, but she did the best she could without bumping her head against the sloping roof above her. “No other girls look better than me tonight, anyway.”

  The only other girl, Lourdes, wasn’t competing for Duane’s attention anyway, although once in a while Tawna flirted with him. When that happened Helena’s teeth always glued themselves together and she shut her eyes to keep from rolling them.

  The snow glistened on the hill under the full moon. Duane had made an extended sled run with sharp turns and a huge jump at the end. Helena and Peter managed to go down twice before Tawna turned up with Lourdes and Ray. While they used the inner tubes, Helena stood to the side and drank cocoa from a thermos with Duane.

  “You did a really good job with this,” Helena told him.

  “I just wanted to make you happy,” Duane said. “It was worth it. Completely worth it.”

  “I’m pretty happy here most of the time,” Helena said. Especially with you.

  “You sound surprised.” Duane was amused.

  “I am. When I first realized that maybe I was never going home, I was mad. So mad. I couldn’t talk to Tawna at all because I didn’t want to bite her head off. She was drunk and unstable
and I was afraid to push her. If you had told me we would live miles from a road of any kind, that I would cook most of our food from scratch, that I would live with my mom and she would teach me math and science every day and I wouldn’t melt down… Well, I wouldn’t have guessed that somehow I’d be happy.”

  “You seem like the kind of person who has a talent for being happy,” Duane said. “When I did high adventure trips with the Boy Scouts, I learned pretty quick that some people never want to be happy. The trip could be amazing, and everything could go right for days at a time and they would complain over something eventually even if they had to make up a reason. Some people could go on a trip where their tent broke on the first day, it rained endlessly, and the food was spoiled. But they would be cracking jokes about it and laughing the whole time.”

  “I don’t think I have that kind of talent,” Helena admitted, even though she was afraid Duane might lose respect for her. “I was so miserable when my dad left my mom and we had to move to the penthouse. I just wanted to stay home. I didn’t care how unhappy he was. I was more miserable when he married Tawna. I begged my mom to let me move home. I promised her I wouldn’t be any trouble at all, but she said no.”

  “The real reason you don’t respect your mom,” Duane observed.

  “That is the real reason. I always knew she was busy. I always knew she couldn’t be counted on, but I was so miserable when Tawna and Lourdes and Ray moved into the penthouse I can’t even tell you.”

  “I’m sure it was hard,” Duane speculated. “But it looks to me like you’ve done well with not letting them spoil your life.”

  “I don’t know if they wanted to spoil my life.” Helena tried to be fair. “But they always want whatever they want, with no compromise. They’ve never cared how they upset other people with their selfishness.”