Tides of Change

by Susan MacIver

  “Your wisdom is more crucial to us than we could ever have expected. Your experience topside may open our thinking in ways we could never achieve on our own. I ask that you address the Council, not only as our Most Sovereign Healer, but also as a native Terran woman.”

  Daria accepted his outstretched hand and Marik guided her to the edge of the stage. The august leader bowed his head, then took his position with the others of the High Council.

  The mantle of Most Sovereign Healer had settled itself in all its grandeur upon Daria’s capable shoulders. The very light of her mother line radiated from dark aquamarine eyes, and her aspect was one of powerful majesty. The strength and clarity of her voice rang throughout the Hall.

  “The Canons were created by Poseidon. He entrusted them to his oldest son, Atlas, who in turn gave them to the children of Atlantis. Only eight Canons were handed down, yet the wisdom of those commandments nurtured and guided your growth as a people. You have flourished through tremendous adversity, and that alone is a testament to your acceptance of those profound and eloquent ideals. The significance of eight Canons is a reflection of eternity. The ideals that Poseidon set forth are elemental in their simplicity, yet each one stands as an unshakable universal truth.”

  Daria took a moment. Ni-Cio felt her gaze fall upon him, and as he met her glance, their love seemed a tangible presence. Shimmering from one to the other, it filled the space that separated them and enclosed them as one.

  A wistful smile lifted the corners of Daria’s generous mouth. Her lips trembled and tears glistened at the corners of her eyes. Her voice shook with emotion as she continued, “My heart and soul are here. I would give my life to retain the peace and the joy under which you have thrived. Having lived topside, I want nothing more than to stay with you, but I feel strongly that we are faced with an almost insurmountable challenge. If we choose to ignore that challenge, it could bring about the complete collapse of Atlantis, and I cannot, I will not let that happen!”

  “No!” Ni-Cio saw into her soul and was terrified. He knew her intention. He struggled to the stage, shoving startled members out of his way. “No, Daria, you cannot do this!” He leapt to the dais and grabbed her shoulders. He crushed her to his chest as though she was already gone.

  She raised a hand to his cheek, and her caress calmed him enough so that he could hear her thoughts. “I am the only one who can leave…I know Travlor’s thoughts, even though he believes himself to be inscrutable…his aim is to destroy me…”

  Ni-Cio faced his friends and gestured wildly, “She would go topside to deal with Travlor herself rather than endanger Atlantis should this fiend decide to attack!”

  Under a tsunami of objections, the arguments poured in.

  “You cannot leave us!”

  “You are our Healer!”

  “Must Travlor be sought out? Perhaps he is done with us.”

  “I vote we stand and fight.”

  “We would protect you with our lives!”

  Daria released Ni-Cio and lifted her arms. The noise abated and her voice rose with conviction, “Travlor will come. Make no mistake. His goals are immutable. He is willing to die for the cause that he has set forth, and should he fail, he is prepared to kill as many of us as possible!”

  Ni-Cio glared at Marik.

  “Let us put it to vote right now. You said yourself that there comes a time to stand and fight for that which we hold sacred.” Ni-Cio faced the crowd, his voice harsh with disdain, “Would you let this woman sacrifice herself? Do we hold to the Canons only as a shield? Have we become such cowards that we are unable or unwilling to stand against an aggressor who tramples the very ideals we have sworn to uphold? Poseidon himself would sanctify a defense of our lives!”

  Ennael approached the rostrum, and his plaintive tone grated on Ni-Cio’s nerves. “Ni-Cio, no one wants Daria to give herself for us. Yet how do we fight? Battle tactics are as foreign to us as the topsiders themselves.”

  Disjointed cries of “Hear, hear!” could be heard, but one voice rose above the others.

  Aris faced the fearful composer, “Ennael, we can learn. Studying historic strategies would enable us to develop our own.”

  Daria broke in with a new idea, “I could go topside without confronting Travlor and try to learn what he plans before it becomes necessary to defend ourselves. If we have that knowledge, then we know how to proceed.”

  Sounds of clapping and shouts of approval burst through the Hall.

  “Enough!” Marik seized the floor, “A vote should not be required, as your feelings are clear almost to a person. However, since we have waived the rules that would normally govern this meeting, I stand on precedence with this issue.”

  At his signal, the members of the High Council gathered around him and the vote of every Atlantean was tallied. The silence was deafening. Everyone awaited the fateful decision.

  Marik looked over the assembly and the bass timbre of the Council Leader’s pronouncement exploded through the halls of Atlantis, “A unanimous decision has been reached. For good or ill, we set ourselves to stand against the approaching storm!”

  Throughout the Hall, cheers erupted. The decision coursed through Atlantis like lightning. Down and down, thought followed thought as the defiant jubilation gained momentum.

  In his mind’s eye, Ni-Cio could see the people who waited outside the bowels of Travlor’s tainted nest. As they joined their thoughts with the others, their roar of defiance caused the grisly walls of Travlor’s desolate chambers to vibrate. His domain slowly gave way, and a wall of granite rained down, obliterating the last vestiges of his evil.

  The battle lines had been drawn.

  Exterminators Wanted

  Containment of deep-sea scavengers

  Situation critical

  Environment toxic

  Comprehensive knowledge of underwater combustibles

  Provisions supplied

  Contract in place

  Payment in two disbursements; balloon upon completion

  Forward resume; click here to email

  The covert ad generated more interest than Evan would have believed possible. It had posted for the last week on an innocuous website, and his email was flooded with resumes. He and Travlor had scoured hundreds of unofficial biographies that spanned the globe, and to narrow the field had been a grueling, research intensive task.

  He rubbed his aching eyes, yawned and blew out a huge sigh. As he leaned back, the front legs of his chair lifted precariously off the floor. He slowly rocked back and forth and studied the man seated to his right. Travlor’s features were highlighted in the unnatural glow of the laptop computer. “How many more of these do you want to go through? I thought we only needed enough men for a small task force. The number of resumes we’re throwing into the recruitment pile represents enough men for an army.”

  Travlor’s attention wavered from the screen to him. At length, Travlor addressed the screen, “I need one hundred battle-tested mercenaries. They will be under my direct command and will lead the soldiers who await my signal.”

  Evan quit rocking and the chair fell forward with a thump.

  “Avarice is such a noble trait. I admire anyone who can be bought without as much as the blink of a greedy eyelid.” Travlor turned from the laptop and smirked.

  Evan jerked his chair to face his father, “Just what the hell are you talking about?”

  “I make reference to a certain drug lord who has come under my...auspices. He has graciously agreed to supply eight hundred men for the task at hand. Even with that number following us into Atlantis, we are not guaranteed success.” Travlor returned his stare to the screen. Continuing to scroll through the emails, his fingers worked like the legs of a spider.

  Evan couldn’t believe what he had just heard. He rubbed his hands over his hair, then raised his arms above his head, “My God, Travlor! What do you think is going to happen? You told me these people have no weapons and have very little defense other than their own camo
uflage. All I want to do is bring Daria home safely and be done with this escapade.”

  Travlor thrust his chair backward and looked at Evan. Half his face was shrouded in darkness and the other half radiated the gleam of millions of photons. His countenance took on the look of a macabre mask, making Evan shudder involuntarily. “I am well aware that that is your primary expectation. However, I have motivations behind my actions that prevail against your limited view of the situation.”

  “Well, maybe it’s time to enlighten me as to your view of the situation. I don’t particularly enjoy flying blind, and your evasiveness could prove highly detrimental to my situation. And everything else aside, this is getting totally out of hand.” Evan crowded Travlor’s space.

  A tug of will emerged and they stared at each other with ill-disguised contempt. Evan knew that his father did not have access to the slightest bit of human emotion, but he had to appreciate the obdurate look staring back at him. He wished that a tiny fissure, just wide enough to let an infinitesimal amount of compassion for the son he never knew, could slip into his father’s consciousness. However, it was clear that Travlor did not want to accede to him in any manner. A slow blink of the lids and Travlor skirted the issue.

  “Right now, we focus on the monumental chore of selecting the most useful men relevant to our mission. Once we have secured the men who will accompany us, and we have embarked upon a rigorous training regimen then we will talk.”

  Travlor resumed his painstaking search through the multitude of emails, concluding, “We still have much to do prior to transporting the recruits to the island. I suggest you engage yourself with securing the area, stocking the compound, and locating the equipment requisite to this operation. I will handle the locals. We don’t need any curious visitors dropping by, and we certainly don’t want speculations running rampant as to our business.”

  Evan sneered, “And just how do you propose to keep the execution of this campaign under wraps? As small as this island is, I would think our actions have already been the subject of much heated conjecture.”

  “The degree to which we can influence the human mind is about to expand your horizons. Have I not explained how easily these topsiders can be compelled? Their impressionability is as pathetic as it is useful to our purposes.”

  He shook his head and gave up. “Well, when you are prepared to exhibit this remarkable talent to augment the skills I have already acquired on my own, I will certainly relish the opportunity for enlightenment.”

  Loathe to be sharing space with such a repellent creature any longer, Evan pushed away from the table. He stretched to unkink his back, and when his fingers rammed into the corrugated tin ceiling, he decided he had had enough. He crossed the floor in two strides and opened the door. Crisp night air tumbled into the cramped space and Evan stepped out onto the sagging porch.

  He didn’t want to acknowledge the implications of what little information Travlor had deigned to tell him. Circumspection had to be the best route, so until he determined how far he was willing to follow his father, he would forge ahead with extreme caution.

  He sighed and looked back at the apparition seated before the computer. It bothered him to think that Travlor looked darker than the surrounding shadows. “Tomorrow I’ll go into town. I need to start making connections in order to get the provisions you seem to require for this mission.”

  Travlor made no move to look up or reply. The gaunt figure remained bent in fevered concentration as a litany of mercenary militarism scrolled before his soulless eyes. Evan shook his head and closed the door.

  “I’m telling you, the best idea is my idea.” Ni-Cio dropped the damp cloth he had used to wipe his hands. With a weary sigh, he looked up from the disassembled biosphere to continue the persistent discussion that Daria would not drop. He called upon his reservoir of great patience and explained yet again. “It is not safe. I do not want you alone on that island with Travlor.” Ni-Cio unwound and rose to stand over Daria. He took her hand and led her from the pool area.

  He, Aris, Rogert and three others had been assigned the difficult task of educating themselves in the gruesome art of war. With vast libraries housed in their data warehouses, they had studied different philosophies, from the great Chinese philosopher-general Sun Tzu, to the more current battles fought and won by the Americans in the well-executed Desert Storm operation.

  “You do not seem to understand the danger that Travlor holds for you.” They had learned much, but plans for their own defense had yet to be decided. A week had passed and Ni-Cio was worried. He could feel Travlor’s black shadow gather force like a mounting wave.

  He led Daria toward the kitchens, but she stopped and made Ni-Cio look at her. She released his hand, “You don’t seem to understand the danger that Travlor holds for every one of us. Do you want him to descend upon us with no knowledge of the might he will bring to bear? Unless we can meet him on equal ground, we will have doomed Atlantis before the first skirmish.”

  Ni-Cio understood the logic of her argument, but before he could counter, Daria rushed on. “Ni-Cio, all I have to do is locate Travlor, which shouldn’t be too hard, all things considered. Once I know his whereabouts, I just have to verify that he is readying himself for an assault. I won’t have to come anywhere near him.”

  He could tell that she had readied her last bit of leverage.

  “If it will make you feel better, I could take Kyla with me. Her coloring is not nearly as intense as some others’ and with very little effort she should be able to blend in.”

  He realized that he had lost the battle. Still, he tried one last salvo, “Your energy has not yet returned to one hundred percent.”

  Excitement lit her beautiful face and he knew it was over. “Ni-Cio, I have reached ninety-five percent. That is more than sufficient for the task I have in mind. With Kyla’s presence, I will have all the help I need.”

  Reluctant as he was to let this idea come to fruition, Ni-Cio could see the apparent sense her arguments made. Should Travlor not plan an attack on Atlantis, their worries could be halted immediately. However, should the suspected strike come, their position would be strengthened if they had some idea of the enemy’s intentions.

  Ni-Cio relented and Daria hugged him as tightly as she could. He kissed the top of her head. He feared for her safety with every molecule of his body. He heard her muffled voice.

  “I promise, everything will work out. I wouldn’t do this unless I knew I would be coming back.”

  Ni-Cio held up a finger, “I am not quite through. There is a condition.”

  Daria pulled away and looked up at him.

  “I will accompany you and Kyla.”

  Her eyebrows shot up and she laughed, “Ni-Cio, I love you more than I can say, but I have to tell you, you cannot possibly blend.”

  He tried to smile and instead planted a kiss on her forehead. “Do not be so quick to point out the obvious. I will stay in the biosphere, and should you need my assistance, I will be near enough to reach you. And hang the consequences of being seen by topsiders.”

  “Then we should proceed immediately. The sooner we know what we are up against, the sooner we can initiate our course of action.” A wide smile crossed her lips.

  Ni-Cio halted her headlong rush and wrapped himself around her retreating form. He brushed her hair aside and as he ran his lips over the delicate skin on the back of her neck, he teased, “We proceed nowhere until I have visited the kitchens. I am overly ready for dinner after which I will be prepared for dessert. As you are to be the last course, I suggest we get a good night’s sleep and begin our other activities on the morrow.”

  The length of their bodies touched at every possible juncture and the heat that flowed from Daria aroused his insatiable desire. Her husky reply ratcheted up the stakes, “Must I wait for you to dine? As you are a man of varied appetites, I may be able to think of something that will hold you over until dinner is served.”

  “Woman, I am your humble servant. Whi
ther you lead, I faithfully follow.” He nuzzled her earlobe and his hands wandered down the length of her arms.

  Their breathing deepened until their need for food yielded to a passion that transcended every other care. Daria entwined her fingers with Ni-Cio’s and pulled him down the passageway toward his quarters.

  Assembled in the exit chamber, Kyla and Daria waited for Ni-Cio to ready the biosphere.

  Prior to the miraculous breakthrough that had introduced the bioskins, Atlanteans had utilized many different garments in their continual quest for warmth. Through the efforts of some of the finest seamstresses in Atlantis, Daria had shown them how to remake a few of the older garments into newer fashions that could pass topside.

  Over their bioskins, Kyla and Daria wore loose fitting clothes of pale earth tones. Their attire complimented the western styled fashion of long-sleeved shirts and pants. In place of the pliant pedisoles that adhered comfortably to the bottoms of their feet, they wore woven sandals that could pass for more normal footwear.

  Their hair had been pulled into neat plaits and secured under scarves. Everything about their identity had been simplified in an effort to create unremarkable appearances that would enable them to move about unnoticed. To help hide Kyla’s blush of Atlantean coloration, Daria had asked Aris to grind some volcanic talc into a very fine powder. The white powder had hidden the more vibrant tones, although if she was scrutinized, the difference would be patently obvious. Daria had said that most topsiders were fairly unobservant, so she was certain Kyla would be fine.

  Even though Daria had reassured her that her disguise was more than satisfactory and that they would not be conversing with anybody, Kyla was still agitated. In the whole of her life, she had never anticipated moving among the people of Terros. She had never harbored the least desire to meet such strange, unpredictable, otherworldly creatures. Everything about them was so different that no matter the culture, they were an enigma. Other than Daria, who seemed to her more Atlantean than topsider, she simply preferred never to let the mystifying Terrans enter her thoughts.