Evan sighed and trailed to the bathroom in an attempt to erase the indications of despair that he knew marked his face. He took three aspirins from his travel kit, filled a glass with tepid water and washed them down in one swallow. He needed a clear head, and he could not afford to succumb to physical weakness.
He showered in a burst of speed, ran an electric razor haphazardly across blond whiskers, and shrugged into a pair of jeans and a comfortable T-shirt. He located his discarded loafers and slid sockless feet into the soft brown leather. Feeling somewhat refreshed, he decided that a good breakfast would help.
Reckoning with Travlor presented an onerous challenge, and if he wallowed in self-pity and uncertainty, then he would never be able to best the alien creature that had sired him. The blood of Poseidon surged through his own veins as well, and although he had never thought much about a bloodline that hearkened back to a god, Evan was determined to utilize the time with Travlor to his utmost advantage. The way out of this Travlor-inspired nightmare was to become familiar with the enemy. And his god-forsaken father had all the knowledge he required to help him get to Daria.
He opened the bathroom door and stepped into the room. He grabbed his keys and wallet, then brushed past Travlor, “Let’s move.”
Evan and his father walked into the morning sunshine. Evan basked in the soft glow of first light, almost feeling that anything was possible. For a brief moment, he let himself believe in happy endings.
Ni-Cio was first to awaken, and his heart soared with love for the woman asleep next to him. Last night would forever be engraved in his memory. The love they shared had its own singular clarity that lit corners of his soul he hadn’t even known were there.
He relived the sensuous, all-consuming passion that had marked their physical consummation, and he yearned to give voice to his soul’s song. In his life, he had never experienced the feelings that she evoked.
He carefully withdrew his arms from beneath the weight of her, feeling the silk of Daria’s skin caress his hands. Ambient beams of light glistened over the lovely contours of her body and bathed her in morning-soft radiance. Ni-Cio was loath to take his eyes from her, but he slid noiselessly from the bed.
Collecting a small, frosted-glass tablet, he padded to a nearby sofa. Deep in thought, he burrowed into the cushions. With his thoughts, the words began to flow from his mind onto the paper-thin tablet.
He heard Daria drowsily move to find his embrace. Before she could fully awaken, he sent a whispered thought, “I am here, my love…sleep, I will rejoin you shortly…”
A smile lifted the corners of her lips and he knew that she had flowed back into her dreams. Ni-Cio worked until, satisfied, he yawned and stretched. Rising, he placed the pad on the bedside table and slipped between the covers. He took Daria in his arms and watched the tablet begin to glow. The words of his heart rose through the dew-scented air to become etched forever upon the waterwall.
Simple experiences form the heart of life.
Encapsulated doses of pure joy - that lighten the soul and steal away the thoughts that haunt us, even for a moment.
At some point unknown and unforeseen, during a mind’s unrest, arrives the solace of these singular times.
The moments pass, bearing only revered remembrances of happiness.
These moments arrive perfectly in harmony with the soul’s thirst.
And after many years pass,
remain within.
Precious parts of life, which are most sweet when arriving amidst turmoil.
An eye of a storm, their beauty is apparent only at their core and when remembered from a great distance.
Time separates these moments
from their surroundings
to provide clarity.
Proof that they are worth their price.
We must live for these moments,
for their existence defines us.
My love,
You have defined my life. Ni-Cio
The warmth of Daria’s body enveloped him. She opened her eyes and the sacrament of their love found expression once again in ecstasy.
Evan could see that he and Travlor made an imperious pair as they walked into the empty compound. Followed closely by an elderly Greek man whom Travlor treated more like a simpering minion than a once proud property owner, they surveyed the area.
Vacant housing stood shoulder to shoulder in bleak military precision. Evan’s analytical gaze followed the succession of ruler straight rows that stood in unoccupied formation. The empty courtyard, enclosed by the single-room accommodations, formed a determined rectangular alliance against the encroaching countryside.
The Greek showed Evan and Travlor the first cottage. The old door had to be shoved open. When they were inside, the owner flipped a wall switch. A thin trickle of light spilled from the shredded shade of a lone floor lamp and the gloom pulled away from the shallow pool of light.
“This suits our needs perfectly…”
Travlor’s thought coincided with his ideas, “Agreed…”
They found each unit to be a carbon copy of its dilapidated neighbor. The kitchenettes, which may or may not have functioned, included two small sinks, an antiquated ice box and a stove hardly big enough to cook a chicken.
In the miniscule bathrooms, one toilet, one sink and one moldy shower stall argued for their share of the cramped space. And crammed into a dusty corner of the main room, thin, cotton-ticked mattresses sagged through the frames of rusted iron bunks.
Travlor leveled a stare at the islander and the old man flinched. “How many acres did you tell me were contained within this property?”
The Greek accent was thick as it issued brokenly from a tongue unused to the harsh English language, “I believe to be…,” he hesitated and counted in Greek. His toothless smile held great pride as he raised two fingers, “Two hundred.”
“Why don’t you speak his tongue?”
“Because I don’t want to…” Travlor turned and walked out onto the slanted porch.
While Evan waited, he tried to ignore the imploring look visible on the old Greek’s face. He knew how much the sale of his property meant. Travlor’s voice scoured the air, breaking their uncomfortable silence, “You indicated there was ocean access.”
A moment of doubt entered the old man’s rheumy eyes as he stumbled through the interpretation. He gestured for Evan to follow, and he hobbled out the door to peer at Travlor. “Yes, yes, come, I take you.”
He led them out of the compound and pointed to a path that wound through a decaying vineyard where years of neglect were in sad evidence. The wizened Greek indicated more through sign language than words that he would be unable to follow. He shoved a stubby, work-hardened forefinger in the direction they were to take. “Go and go and go, you see.”
Evan nodded his understanding and he and Travlor began to scramble through the choked vegetation, the vague path all but disguised by the gnarled and withered limbs of long-dead grapevines. Veined branches, like old, brown fingers, plucked at their pant legs. And Evan was sorry to see that the only green in sight was the jealous green of overgrown weeds that had long ago sucked the life from each tender, struggling vine.
At length, they came upon a windswept cliff and navigated a careful descent along an uneven trail that clung to the steep hillside with stubborn Greek tenacity. Eventually, the powder-dry path spilled them, in a swirling cloud of dust, onto a deserted, rock encrusted beach.
They picked their way to the high water mark. As they looked out over the sparkling Aegean, a stout sea wind battered their shirts and pants and caused the material to snap as smartly as flying flags. The strident cries of seagulls sounded overhead, and they had to shield their eyes against the harsh noonday sun. Birds careened effortlessly through rising thermals. Blue green waves lifted and plummeted in a relentless battle against the frayed shoreline. As Travlor turned to Evan, his weather beaten voice rose above the pounding surf, “The swells indicate a sharp decline in the sea bottom! I
t’s perfect!”
Evan had to shout back, “When do we begin?”
“Immediately Take care of the acquisition and do not be generous. Any amount you give that relic will be more than he would ever have made. Once you have procured ownership, we begin recruitment.” Travlor briskly rubbed his hands together.
Evan felt his father’s exhilaration begin to wax.
“We will accomplish our first goal, soon, very soon.” Travlor stared out over the open sea and raised his arms, claw-like hands flung outward. “Once that is done, there will be no one to stop us!”
Evan was sick of his gloating.
“The world is mine!” Travlor folded the fingers of one bony hand into a tight fist. His laughter climbed the scales in a screech that challenged even the shriek of the gulls.
Evan’s insides churned. Revolted by the unbridled ambition of a father he wished he had never met, he attempted a more complex thought-form, “Let’s get back…as you say, we have much to do…”
Travlor ceased reveling in the glow of his unearthly vision, and his thoughts seared Evan’s mind, “I see that your abilities grow…very good, I would even say amazing…I would not have thought you could achieve this level so quickly…”
Evan could tell that Travlor blocked his next thought with a calculated glance from behind veiled lids.
As one, they turned to begin the climb to the summit. Leery of events that had made their interdependence a necessity, Evan knew that his father was not willing to lower the barriers that would allow him to forge even the smallest bond or initiate the tiniest shred of trust. He knew, without a doubt, that he would have to watch his back.
In the underwater conservatory, Aris and Mer-An could see that breakfast had become a silent and hurried affair. There was none of the usual bonhomie that typified the beginning of a new day. Beyond the invisible domed barrier that separated air and ocean, fish darted in shimmering bursts of color, while plants, subject to the mercurial mood of the changing currents, swirled in graceful whimsy. It seemed that even the sublime beauty of nature’s canvas had failed to lighten the mood.
While they waited for Daria’s tray, the only sounds that disrupted the worried hush were the occasional chimes of silver against crystal and the soft scrape of chairs when families rose to depart. Skin tones were subdued, the more muted hues indicative of the need for introspection. Individual thoughts seemed to imitate the shifting tides.
Everyone knew that the repercussions of their vote would initiate the most momentous event in their living history, implications that would remain locked in Atlantean hearts and minds forever.
Ni-Cio had declined the walk to the conservatory. He wanted to safeguard the precious reserves of energy that Daria was beginning to store. Instead, he had invited Aris and Mer-An to share breakfast inside the gardens of Daria’s antechamber.
Aris shouldered the huge tray that Kyla offered, and he and Mer-An made their way from the conservatory. Entering Daria’s gardens, it was clear that their breakfast, though far from raucous, would enjoy a lighter atmosphere.
Daria was already seated, so Aris settled the tray on a nearby table. Ni-Cio walked out and helped Mer-An move the contents to the dining table. By unspoken consent, any discussion of the coming Council meeting was avoided, and their laughter flowed in gentle eddies as they seated themselves and began to eat.
Once everyone had enjoyed a good portion of their food, Mer-An decided to share some of Aris’s nursing antics. “One night, I remember waking and I was no longer in pain. It felt wonderful, but I was trying so hard to be quiet. My Aris had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. And though I had not moved, he must have sensed something, because all of a sudden he sprang from his prone position as though a swarm of jellyfish had attached themselves to his well-appointed backside!”
Ni-Cio thumped his knee and everyone chuckled.
Mer-An continued, “He had gotten tangled in the sheets and fell off the bed headfirst. He hit with such a jolt, I thought all of Atlantis must have heard. He kept muttering, ‘Are you all right? Are you all right?’ And even though I tried to get his attention, I do not know how long he rolled around on the ground before he finally got his bearings.”
Mer-An held her sides, joining in the laughter. “All I could see was this ceaseless flailing of arms and legs and his muffled voice rising with each roll as he kept mumbling, ‘Are you all right?’”
Mer-An reached for Aris and took his hand in hers. The light of love shone from beautiful green eyes. “I doubt I would have recovered as quickly if you had not provided such caring, entertainment.”
Even though it had been at his expense, Aris had enjoyed the story. His love for Mer-An sang through his heart, and he would have done anything to hear her laugh. He mustered a serious demeanor, but he could not hide his grin. “At your service, my lady, you have but to flutter those long lashes and I am prepared to flail anytime, anywhere.”
Ni-Cio grinned at Aris. “I have had to submit to his ministrations as well. I can only reiterate what has been suggested before, ‘It is truly a gift from the gods that Aris was not designated as our Most Sovereign Healer.’”
Ni-Cio’s teasing laugh erupted and Aris could tell that he was ready to relate one particular episode that he didn’t think needed to be shared. He decided to stem the onslaught of Aris bashing that he knew was imminent. “Yes, yes, and as you are well aware, I have never professed to a hidden genius where that particular talent is concerned.”
“Thereby making the consensus unanimous!” Ni-Cio’s good-natured ribbing continued until the laughter had subsided to the occasional chuckle.
Daria leaned forward and placed her elbows on either side of her plate. “It’s wonderful to see the love you two have for each other. You have such a close and easy camaraderie. I hope it will always be this way.”
Aris thought he saw a momentary shadow flit across Daria’s face, however, before he could inquire, she changed the subject, “We should leave for the Council meeting. We should be there before the others arrive.” She pushed her chair back from the table and stood.
They quickly cleared the table and placed their dishes inside a nearby cubicle. The items were whisked to the kitchens below where they would be cleaned.
Ni-Cio took Daria’s arm and Aris placed his arm around Mer-An’s small waist. They walked to the corridor leading to the Council Hall, and the good humor that had marked their meal vanished. The day’s purpose was about to begin. Passing through the main portal of the Council Hall, Aris wondered if any of them had the vaguest idea of what would ensue from the coming vote.
Ten resonant chimes echoed through the hushed corridors of Atlantis. The solemnity of each strike mirrored the grave looks on the faces of each Council member. Marik took his usual position at the forefront of the dais, looking very much the part of an ancient, implacable god. His steel blue stare raked over the subdued gathering as he waited for the last note to fade.
All eyes were anchored upon the Council Leader when his thunderous voice crashed through the quiet and startled some members so much that they jumped. “I have had time to think about the plight that has been thrust upon us. That which we have feared has finally come to pass. Our precious anonymity has been placed in jeopardy, not by inquisitive topsiders, as once we anticipated, but by a treachery so heinous, it is hard to comprehend that it is endemic of Atlantis.
“The knowledge of Travlor’s depravity has shaken the very foundations upon which we have based our lives. That this fact could paralyze us into inactivity is a distinct possibility. That the hour has come for each of us to take a stand for all that we hold sacred is a harsh reality. Retribution for such a traitor should not be denied, but I ask myself, at what cost? I stand before you even now with my heart torn asunder. The Canons state that all life is to be held sacred. What we have never addressed are the lengths to which we can and should protect our lives.”
Marik paused to survey the ten council members. Ni-Cio knew that many of
them were companions who, through the years, had shared Marik’s friendship and laughter. The Council Leader shrugged his large shoulders and faced the crowd, “The issues are clear. The choices are not. Our Most Sovereign Healer has told us that Travlor will return, and that we must be ready. Some of you feel that we should damn the consequences, land topside, capture the traitor and bring him back to face punishment. Others are convinced that nothing should be done other than to leave Travlor to his own devices.
“These are harrowing choices, which I am sure many of you pondered throughout the night. However, I take this time to remind you that there are still questions that must be answered.” The power of Marik’s voice rose. Each question struck its intended target, “Do we risk exposing ourselves to topsiders? If we leave Travlor to his plans, what ill does his return bode for us? If he returns to attack, do we fight? If he wins, are we ready to submit to his domination? If he does not attack, do we do nothing and hope that he is done with us?
“It lies within each of you to determine the outcome of what must be done. But keep in mind, once the decision has been cast, it will be met with full compliance. Half-measures will be held in the same regard as the treasonous evil that has fled the sanctity of our home.”
The Council Leader lifted his palms in a gesture of supplication, “I would that events had not unraveled as they have. We have been brought to this juncture at this appointed time with only our hearts to guide us. The only counsel I would offer is to be true to your feelings and know that all will be well.”
Marik started to cede the floor, but hesitated. His brows knitted together and the creases that outlined his glittering eyes deepened. It was clear that he had made his decision, “The discussion will proceed. However, I exert my right as Council Leader to bypass the rules that govern the right of first speech. I choose to signify first speaker.” He walked toward the High Council with quiet deliberation and extended a strong hand to their newest member.
Tides of Change Page 17
