“Captain,” Gwaynn suddenly said. “If you and the others could leave us for a bit…”
Gaston came to attention and nodded, glad to have been given even this slight demonstration of his lord’s skill. He remembered from his younger days that Gwaynn was a mighty fighter, but watching him face off against a truly talented opponent had a way of illuminating his dim, aging memories.
“Of course, M’lord,” the Captain answered and hustled the group of shocked younger men out of the hall, most had never witnessed the true skill of their King, for Gwaynn rarely worked out with anyone in public anymore. If he fought, it was with his Weapons Master Bethany and no one else.
Once the hall was empty, Gwaynn once again turned to Arnot.
“Alright…now let’s see what you’ve truly learned on Noble,” he said and Arnot smiled, thinking that if he could surprise his father, well then Avigail would truly astonish him. Her improvement with katas was simply amazing.
Arnot bowed and without hesitation attacked once again. Gwaynn smiled inwardly. His son was very aggressive, very fluid and very skilled, but he was also very obvious. His attacks lacked any real cunning and very little deception. As he blocked blow after blow he wondered if his own style had been so transparent to Tar Nev all those years ago.
For his part Arnot was attacking in an easy practiced manner in order to divorce a part of his mind for the coming jump in time. He wanted to surprise his father and more than anything he wanted to score a decisive hit. It took several minutes of fighting to prepare but when he made his move he compressed time very suddenly and was only dimly aware of his father’s movements slowing. When Arnot felt all was ready he pulled time to a stop and shot around his father and aimed a hard blow at Gwaynn’s back, just where he’d been struck earlier, but before the blow could land his father somehow freed himself from the constraints of time, spun and with a ringing blow knocked Arnot’s kata aside and before he could react Arnot felt a strong kick connect with the center of his chest and he went sprawling backwards falling hard on the mat.
“Ha! I knew you could do it,” Gwaynn said excitedly and moved over to help his son to his feet. They both now were on an accelerated plane of time which neither could sustain for much longer. “You’ve learned well. Before I arrived on Noble it was thought that only Solitaries could control the time as well as space, but I knew it wasn’t so…and I knew there would be others…many others.”
Arnot allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “How did you shift so quickly? I stopped time…I meant to score an easy hit.” Arnot asked baffled, disappointed and growing shaky by the strain of holding back time.
Gwaynn laughed; his manner easy and relaxed as if he was putting no effort at all in manipulating time. “You’ve learned much from Tarina N’dori, and I have no doubt she is teaching you well, but son, talented as the Tarina is, she is not Tar Nev.”
Arnot frowned, then doubled over and had to release time. The hunger pangs hit him immediately and Gwaynn actually had to prop him up to keep the young man from falling to the floor once more. Gwaynn helped him to a table along one wall and poured two glasses of a pale yellow liquid. He handed one to Arnot who drank it greedily and almost immediately began to feel the recuperative effects of the drink.
“Peaches?” He asked but Gwaynn only nodded as he drank his own glass. Without waiting Arnot refilled his glass and drank the second down equally as fast.
“Avi will love this,” he said as he quickly finished his second glass.
“Avigail can manipulate time?” Gwaynn asked and chided himself for not inviting his daughter to spar. But she never truly loved sparring like Arnot, and seemed to want to spend time with her mother and Lynn.
“Better than I,” Arnot admitted. “Though she still fights like a girl,” he added with a laugh.
Gwaynn eyed his son. “I believe a girl has been teaching you as well. N’dori is an excellent fighter, and she’s taught you a great deal about concentration.”
“And Vio as well,” Arnot added. “I was only teasing Avi…I do it even when she’s not around,” he added with a laugh and filled up his glass once more.
Finally Gwaynn smiled, very thankful that Arnot had his sister. “How long will you stay?”
Arnot shrugged slightly. “Only a few days…we have to get back before the Competitions. You will come won’t you father?”
Gwaynn nodded. “Yes…and your mother as well. And I think I can teach you a thing or two before you go…maybe surprise old N’dori one more time.”
Arnot grinned. N’dori was not easy to surprise, but if anyone was up to the task it was his father.
“Come…you’re advanced enough now…let me show you some of Tar Nev’s secrets,” Gwaynn said and pulled his son away from the refreshment table and back out onto the center mat. They squared off. “And tomorrow bring your sister,” he added and with that they began to battle.
†
The twins actually remained on the King’s Island for three more days. Avi was so intrigued by her father’s ability and knowledge of time that she had no real desire to leave. When she was not sparring with him, she constantly harassed her father about Tar Nev and his teachings. When the two weren’t babbling on about Nev’s philosophy, Avi was prodding her father for information about Nev’s last day in the lands of the Inland Sea and about the bridge he created between worlds; the bridge that sucked Lynn from her home.
Arnot however, was having none of it and was eager to return to Noble. The Competitions were everything to him and no one, not even his sister, was going to keep him away now that he’d received an invitation to compete. She continued to deflect his constant nagging to return to Noble, she only succumbed when her father informed her that the entire family would be leaving for island of the Tars the next day.
Avigail took the news stoically, but pleaded with Arnot to go riding the following morning. Arnot had never seen his sister in such a state of panic and so agreed. But he would have agreed to anything if it meant getting back to Noble. However, even he had to admit that it would be nice to ride Bart again.
Bart was his horse, a gift from his father on his tenth birthday and he was perfect for the young Arnot. Bart was an enormous gelding, fit for a warrior, except for its calm and easy manner. Avigail also received a horse, a jet black mare which she promptly named Black Beauty, as any ten year old girl would have done. The mare was named after a storybook horse from Old Earth, and while Beauty was much smaller than Bart, she was the picture of equestrian perfection. When comparing the two horses, the ten year old Arnot grew just a tad jealous despite the fact that Bart was large, strong and powerful. Bart was everything he’d ever wanted in a horse…except beautiful. So, in his jealousy, Arnot immediately named his horse Black Bart even though Bart was not black at all, but a dapple gray.
“He can’t be Black Bart,” Avi complained strenuously at the time. “He isn’t even black.”
Arnot shrugged and stroked the nose of his new prize. “His name is Black Bart anyway. Father said I can name him what I want.”
“But he isn’t Black,” Avi insisted on the verge of tears. Arnot was always taking things from her and now he was taking her horse’s name.
Arnot smiled at her. “He has a black heart…I can tell. I wouldn’t get too close to him. He’s a real warhorse and might stomp you to jelly. He knows me, so I’m perfectly safe…he knows I’m his master.”
“ARNOT! YOU CAN’T CALL HIM BLACK BART!” She screamed at him.
Arnot shrugged again and with a little smirk replied. “But Avi that’s his name…he already knows it. He’s very smart. I can’t change it now.”
Avigail stood red faced for a moment, tears of frustration trickling from her eyes. Arnot could tell her rage was building and felt a deep stab of regret, but he knew he could not back down now. He’d invested too much in the name to change it.
“Well he may be big,” Avi said in a low soft voice that Arnot had come to recognize as dangerous, “but just loo
k at him. He’s ugly and…and a pansy!” She added then turned and sprinted from the barn without even trying to ride her own precious beauty.
Looking back Arnot smiled in the early morning sunshine. As it turned out she was correct, Bart though large, had an uncomfortably sweet disposition.
“Hello Bart,” Arnot said as he greeted his old friend, who was saddled and ready, standing calmly next to Beauty. Bart nickered at him and bumped the young man with his nose. The horse had quickly become just Bart…after that first day Arnot never had cause to call him Black Bart again. It was just as well for there was nothing black about Bart, certainly not his heart.
“Well come on,” Avi snapped impatiently. She was already mounted and ready to be off. Beauty was fidgeting impatiently as well, but Bart remained rock steady in place. Arnot hoisted himself up on Bart’s tall back and looked down at his sister then frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she answered defensively, annoyed that Arnot could read her so easily. “I just want to go riding, not stand here and make kissy face with my horse.” With that she turned Beauty and trotted quickly out the west gate. Arnot sighed and followed along behind, knowing that given time, Avi would tell him what was on her mind, but until then she would keep whatever it was that was bothering her stubbornly inside, safely hidden from view.
They rode through Port at a cantor, both horses happy to have their children once again on their backs. Once they’d left the town behind, Avi immediately headed north and coaxed Beauty into a trot. Bart matched the pace but when Bart came alongside, Beauty broke into a run all on her own, soon both horses were galloping down the main rode which led up the coast and to the north end of the island. As the horses raced, Arnot and Avi smiled and laughed, each thoroughly enjoying the illusion of freedom.
They were nearing Northpoint when Arnot finally spoke up.
“We should be heading back now Avi,” he said, they’d been riding for nearly an hour and he was tired and ready to get back and move on to Noble.
“Almost,” Avi said, clearly distracted. She coaxed Beauty off the main road and out across a rocky field. Arnot sighed and followed along behind. He was beginning to grow angry and was half tempted to leave her on her own and head back alone…but in the end he remained by her side, as always.
“Avi what are you doing?”
“We’re close Arnot,” she answered, cocking her head but not looking at him. “Can’t you feel it?”
Arnot looked around, feeling nothing. He was about to say as much when Avigail pulled Beauty to a stop and jumped from her back. Arnot watched her, clearly surprised.
“Avi…”
“Hush Arnot! Go back if you must,” she snapped at him and Arnot recoiled as if struck. But now his curiosity was aroused, so he climbed from Bart and followed. Avi was rarely this passionate, unless her nose was in a book. Both horses, happy for the break, began to forage, nosing about the tough island grasses for an edible morsel or two.
Arnot moved quickly and reached his sister’s side in moments but she still would not acknowledge his presence. She simply walked this way and that around the field.
“Can you feel it?” She whispered so softly that Arnot nearly missed the question.
“Feel what?” Arnot whispered back, though he was not sure why he kept his voice low.
“We’re close Arnot,” Avi answered and finally looked at him, her eyes intense and excited. “Look,” she added and held up her arm. The soft dark hairs on her forearm were all standing on end, and as Arnot studied her closely he could tell the hairs at the nape of her neck were also all on end. He held up his own arm which had considerably more hair and was surprised to see that his hair was likewise standing on end. He frowned; confused for a moment, but then he felt it. This field, this place, had a certain raw power.
“This is where he moved to the other side,” Avi explained. “This is where Lynn came into our world. Can you feel it?”
Arnot nodded.
“The air feels different here,” Avi continued. “I wonder what would happen if we opened a bridge…”
“A bridge to where Avi?” Arnot asked and felt a sudden stab of fear that he couldn’t explain. Since he left his childhood fears behind, Arnot was rarely afraid and then it was only of insubstantial things…like failure or his father’s disappointment.
Avi glanced once more at her brother. “He’s calling for me Arnot…he wants me to come to him.”
Arnot blanched, afraid she would insist on making the attempt to cross immediately. “Avi…please!”
Avi seemed not to have heard and for a long time as she simply stood and stared off across the field, but then she turned her head and her eyes focused on Arnot once more. She could tell he was frightened and felt a wave of love for her brother. She reached out and touched his arm. “Alright Arnot, not now…but soon.”
Arnot suddenly felt weak with relief, but a new emotion spread across his belly as they moved back toward their horses…dread…dread for the future. He was afraid, very afraid and this fear was very substantial. He was afraid he would soon lose his sister and it was a fear more powerful than anything he’d felt thus far in his young life.
XII
“Only thieves, liars or warmongers claim to truly know God;
don’t trust them.”
Galen Dawkins
April 28th, 2015 Old Earth
Nico Torres was upset. For the last few weeks he’d been lazy and that was inexcusable. He was given an assignment and was absolutely no closer to seeing it accomplished than on day one. The fact that a special task force of the Department of Energy had been given the self same assignment should not have affected him. But it had and the knowledge blinded Nico, turned him lazy and crippled him into inaction. He’d relaxed his normally efficient nature and done absolutely nothing. He’d sinfully allowed himself to become lax. He’d put his faith in the surveillance might of the United States Government and they’d let him down. Nico took great pride in the professional and discreet way he handled the special jobs that were entrusted to him, which was why his services were not cheap. He was simply the best, fit only for the discerning customer who demanded the best.
Well, now he was back on track. The Dawkins woman gave both him and the feds the slip for a few weeks; Nico suspected the brother…the former Major, Adam Dawkins, was behind the initial deception. Monitoring their cell phones proved useless. Neither phone had been used since the escape nor could they be tracked. Their signals were cut and inoperable, obviously they’d been destroyed…completely.
The DOE wrongly assumed that the trio would run for Mexico; the border was so close and so inviting, and Nico allowed himself to become an ass along with them. He’d played the part of the fool well, but when he finally realized that the fugitives were not in fact running for Mexico, he set his own considerable resources on learning all there was to know about Adam and Christine Dawkins. Though killing and destruction were often the end result of many of his operations, Nico and his brother both believed that their business was truly a business of information. With the correct information their missions went smoothly, without detection, but without the proper intel things could go wrong, very wrong. Without the proper information God’s most pressing business would go neglected and that would never do. The Torres brothers would not allow that and so Nico set the wheels of information in motion.
The first layer of information proved unhelpful. Adam’s immediate family was dead and Christine had never been married and rarely had more than a few dates with the same person. So his agency dug deeper and deeper into the past friendships of the brother and sister. Still, it was not until Nico fully realized that Christine was driven utterly by science, by genetics, that he finally began to work through the puzzle.
The boy was her experiment and when he was threatened she’d run. Dr. Dawkins had obviously become so attached to her experiment that she felt compelled to flee in order to save her work when it was endangered by outsid
e forces. This was a telling point. Dawkins was a scientist and could never fully give it up. Finally it dawned on Nico that Christine Dawkins could run from her place of employment but never from her work. She would need a lab, a state of the art genomics lab. Once Nico realized this fact, the possibilities of the boy’s whereabouts diminished greatly. And then her friend Dr. Paula Ratner, Christine’s one time college roommate, came into focus. Ratner worked at Barnes Jewish Hospital as a full time doctor, but she also worked as a part time researcher at the Genome center at Washington University in St. Louis.
Nico had his first break. He quickly contacted the Pitts Agency, a private investigation firm based out of Memphis. He’d used them many times in the past since they were part of an integrated investigation network spanning most of the Midwest and the South. Nico requested surveillance to be placed on a Doctor Paula Ratner of St. Louis and was reassured by Lester Pitts himself that this case would be the agency’s highest priority and Nico believed him. Nico was a good customer…a very good customer, and it didn’t hurt that Lester was a good Christian, a believer in every sense of the word. Only hours after making the call it was confirmed that Ratner had guests…three guests, a man, a woman and a young boy.
Nico packed quickly, feeling happy that he was once again in God’s good graces. There would be no more delays, no more mistakes. He would take the Volvo…and his guns. A road trip to St. Louis might take a bit longer, but it would attract much less attention than attempting to take firearms aboard an airliner, and attention sometimes meant delays. Nico decided the safe way was the long way, it would only cost an extra day in any event, and after nearly three weeks of fumbling around, the security of the mission was worth an extra day. The boy would be dead before the weekend and that would make both Nico and the Reverend Carter Heyworth very happy.
The Best of All Possible Worlds Page 14
