by Aaron Hubble
“Professor, it’s me, Maltoki. You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”
“Maltoki?” He moved forward and embraced the young man who stood before him. “What are you doing here?”
“I was cataloging some of the pieces that we found at the ruins last year and then the explosions started and I kind of froze. I didn’t know where to go or what to do so I figured the safest thing to do was stay where I was. Then the ships started landing.” The young hurriedly gestured toward the window. “Have you seen the ships and the people that came out of them?”
Calier nodded, “Yes, I have.” His mind returned to the slaughter he had witnessed and his body shuddered.
“Where are they coming from?” Maltoki asked.
“I…I don’t know.” Calier spread his arms wide in frustration at not having an answer. “But I know that we can’t stay in the city. They’re hunting down the people that survived and killing them in the streets. It’s not safe to stay. I came to get supplies and then I’m leaving Gadol City.”
Calier reached out and grasped the shoulder of the young graduate assistant that he had often worked with and spent most of last summer digging with. “You should come with me. We’d stand a better chance of surviving with the two of us looking after each other.”
“Is there anyone else?”
Nodding, Calier said, “There’s a young woman I found in the park. She’s hurt, but not critically. When I found her, she was sitting on the ground in shock, holding her dead fiancé. I couldn’t leave her behind, she was so helpless and alone.”
The young man looked out of the supply room, his long ponytail brushing his shoulder. The long hair was Maltoki’s way of paying homage to his ancestors, those brave Am’Segid who had dared to dream of the peace their descendants had enjoyed until today. Long hair had been in fashion long ago, not so much now, but that was Maltoki, a free thinker who didn’t conform to the whims of fashion or social convention.
Maltoki nodded slowly and then his silver eyes locked with Calier’s. “There’s no reason for me to stay. My family is in another city and I wouldn’t mind trying to find them.” Maltoki grinned. “And I’ve seen you try to find your way through the wilderness before. You’ll be lucky to make it out of the city without getting lost.”
Calier’s face broke into a wide grin. “Keep it up kid and I’ll rescind my offer.” They laughed together and then Calier placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “It’ll be good to have you. Very good. Now let’s get another pack filled up, because if you think I’m carrying all your stuff, think again.”
Maltoki smiled and began loading up a pack. Calier selected a holo map unit off the shelf and switched it on. The unit loaded and then an error message appeared.
“Hmm…there must be something wrong with this unit,” said Calier.
“I doubt it, Professor. I was using one while I was cataloging and about ten or fifteen minutes before the explosions began our network went down. I was unable to access any shared information and the maps went out as well.”
Calier was silent for a minute, frowning.
“Professor, you understand there’s only one way the continental network goes down and the maps won’t work, right?”
“I’m not sure I do,” Calier frowned
Maltoki pointed up. “The satellites. They would all need to go down at the same time.”
Calier looked up from the map unit, trying to comprehend what the young man was implying.
“Or,” Maltoki continued. “They were all destroyed…deliberately.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Through the haze, Berit could see him. His blond head danced in and out of the swirling mist.
She called to him. “Winnet!”
Why wouldn’t he answer her?
“Winnet! Wait for me! I need to see you.”
The amusing game of catch-me-if-you-can was beginning to grow worrisome as her desperation to see and touch Winnet grew deeper. No matter how hard Berit tried, she couldn’t seem to make her legs go any faster; it was as if they were filled with lead and she was running through thick mud.
She pressed on, determined to hold Winnet once again. The trail she was following bent to the left and came to a stop at a wall. The wall was massive, reaching toward the sky and stretching on forever in either direction. Looking left along the wall she saw an open door and a figure stepping through. She ran toward the door and was within feet of the handle, reaching, straining to grasp the metal pull when the door slammed shut.
Berit wrapped her hands around the handle and yanked, but the door wouldn’t open. She strained harder, but there was no movement, no way in.
In frustration she beat on the dark wood of the door with her fist and screamed, “Winnet! Why won’t you let me in? Why won’t you answer me?”
She collapsed on the ground sobbing, bitter tears flowed from her eyes. A deep rumbling rattled the door…
****
The hard concrete on which Berit lay shook and a deep rumbling echoed from somewhere in the city. Her eyes fluttered open only to be greeted by darkness. She wasn’t sure where she was or how she had gotten here, but she did have a vague memory of a man with kind eyes helping her.
A wispy memory skittered through her mind and she reached up to her head and winced as the light pressure of her fingertips sent pain coursing through the side of her face. There was a bandage over her ear as well. She struggled to remember what had happened, but it was like trying to grab a piece of paper that was being blown by the wind. Every time she was close to capturing the memory, it would cruelly blow away, sending her scurrying after it again.
She pushed herself up from the floor and reached through the darkness trying to find the wall or a door. Her foot struck something and it crashed to the floor, rolling away. Groping in front of her, Berit found the wall and slid her across the rough blocks feeling for an exit.
There it was, and it wasn’t latched tightly. She pushed it open and was greeted by the familiar setting of the amphitheater. This was a place she had come often with Winnet…
Where was he?
There was a dark, foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of her olam’ani.
Another deep rumbling came from the city. An explosion? Suddenly, from the dark, hidden places of her mind, the sight of a building being torn to pieces came to light. Had she seen that? Yes, she had. And then…
Berit’s hand went to her mouth and she sank to her knees. The image of Winnet, staring with blank eyes at the sky, eyes that held no life and no laughter, was seared on her consciousness. Deep grief wrapped its cold hands around her heart and began to squeeze. The pain was unimaginable, unbearable.
Through the pain she also saw the face of a man she didn’t know, a man who told her to remain in the closet at the amphitheater until he came back for her. He’d said it wasn’t safe outside. She didn’t know why, but she believed him and she picked herself up and moved back to the closet and shut the door.
Lying down on the floor, she sobbed for the loss of everything that was dear to her and waited, not caring whether the man came back or not.
What was the point of life without Winnet?
CHAPTER NINE
Calier’s mouth gaped. “Surely you aren’t suggesting that these men are from…from somewhere other than Aereas?”
Maltoki walked out of the supply room and stood by the window. “Look at those ships, Professor. Do they even vaguely look like anything that you’ve ever seen before?”
Leaning on the window-sill, Calier looked through the glass onto the courtyard several levels below him. The soldiers looked like insects scurrying about their work. Focusing on the aircraft for the first time, he saw what Maltoki was talking about. The craft was black, very angular, with only two windows which were located at the nose. Calier assumed that was the cockpit. Aerean aircraft were typically crescent shaped with smooth, flowing lines, and lots of windows, allowing the passengers a good view of the outside.
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Maltoki had a point: they looked nothing like anything presently being used on Aereas. Calier’s head drooped as he allowed himself to ponder the thoughts racing through his head, but the exhaustion of the day was making it difficult to concentrate on anything other than basic survival.
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“I’ll give you that, Professor, but wherever they’re from, it doesn’t change the fact that we need supplies and we need to leave the city.”
Calier found himself agreeing with the young man. “Of course, you’re right.” He moved back to the supply room and gathered up the supplies he had found while Maltoki filled a backpack for himself.
Calier turned the now-useless mapping unit over in his hands and set it back on the shelf. “Well,” he said to Maltoki, “it looks like we’ll need to move out of the realm of historical theory and put some of what we know about how our ancestors navigated into practice. Follow me.”
They climbed the steps to the second floor and Calier entered his office. Even though he hadn’t been there for months, it still felt like home. Stepping into the office was like stepping into a mini-museum. He had always been a fan of maps, and reproductions of ancient Aerean maps lined the walls. On his desk stood the one thing he had come to the office for.
A small, flat, rectangular box sat on the corner of his desk. He opened it, revealing an ancient compass. His ancestors had used these simple devices to plot their course across the vast Aerean continent. On the inside lid an inscription was carved into the dark wood. He lovingly traced the words his grandfather had carved in ancient Aerean: “Darkness can take the light, mist can obscure the path, but righteousness will always point to the road of life.”
He picked up the compass and showed it to Maltoki. “I always wanted to see if I could use this to find my way, see if I could survive without modern technology.” He smiled and placed the compass back in the box and closed the lid. “Looks like we’ll have the opportunity.” He slid the box into his backpack and then began to rummage through his desk drawers. In the bottom drawer he found a notebook and a folded map that had seen better days.
Unfolding the map, he spread it flat across the top of the desk and motioned Maltoki to join him. The map had indeed been well-used; Calier had studied it often when planning out his summer digs. Notes and circles were spread all over the map in red ink, denoting places of interest and possible sights of archaeological discovery.
Tapping the map with his finger, Calier said, “We need to get out of the city. I saw the men rounding up people and shooting them. If we stay it will only be a matter of time before we’re caught and executed, so I propose we wait until dark and then try and make our way over the bridge.”
Maltoki frowned at him. “It’s still standing?”
Calier nodded. “At least it was a couple of hours ago. It was damaged very heavily, but I think we can cross on foot.”
“Then what?”
“Then we head east, traveling at night. If we can get to Sho’el Forest…”
Maltoki leaned back in surprise. “You want to go through the forest?”
“No, I don’t ‘want’ to go through the forest, but it seems like the only place we can get enough cover to avoid being seen if those aircraft are searching for people.”
Maltoki sucked in a breath. “It’s just that people don’t usually go into the forest unless they’re hunting and they have the proper gear. I mean, night stalkers are the stuff of every kid’s nightmares.”
“I know,” said Calier. “But I’m not sure I see an alternative. If we can find some weapons to defend ourselves, the forest should provide enough cover for us to move during the day. Theoretically we should be safe during the daylight.”
The young man remained skeptical but conceded, “Alright, but what’s the end game? Where’s our ultimate destination?”
Calier moved his finger over the map and stopped it over an area depicted as mountains. “Here, in this valley, I found a cave while I was searching for the Ma’Ha’Nae. A big cave that we could live in and regroup in. Maybe we can make trips to the surrounding cities and see if there are survivors. I don’t know, but I know we can remain hidden there for a long time. This should be our target.”
Maltoki straightened up and exhaled a long breath. Suddenly he swept several books off the desk in a violent explosion of frustration.
“Why are we the ones who have to go cowering into a hole? This is all so very wrong! Who have we ever hurt, who have we ever attacked? Nobody, and now these soldiers are taking everything away from us, sending us scurrying to hide in a cave like a bunch of rats.”
Calier stared wide-eyed at the young man. He had spent a lot of time around Maltoki and he didn’t think he had ever heard the young man raise his voice. Maltoki was energetic, even a bit precocious, but Calier had never seen him act out in frustration in such an explosive manner. Collecting himself, Calier moved over to Maltoki, who stood with bowed head, his chest heaving with emotion. Placing his hands on the young man’s shoulders, Calier spoke as calmly and confidently as he could, which he found to be quite a task.
“You’re right, this isn’t the way things should be, but it’s the way they are. Our lives have been turned upside-down. The heart has been ripped out of our city, and we were the unfortunate witnesses of its death. However, this is not the end of us, even if our city has died. If I’ve learned anything from the history of our people, it’s that when everything was taken from them, they mourned their losses and then got to the task of rebuilding. Every time, every single time, what was rebuilt upon the rubble of what had been destroyed was better and stronger than what had fallen. Character is formed in the fire of adversity, and that very fire will reveal who of us that are left are willing to fight and take back what is ours. I promise you, son, you and I will one day return to this city and begin rebuilding it with our own hands. That’s a promise.”
He extended his hand to Maltoki. The young man’s silver eyes lifted to look at Calier’s hand. He grasped the offered hand and Calier pulled him into a hug, slapping him on the back.
Calier pushed back from his former student. “Now, if you have that out of your system, let’s grab some food from the cafeteria and get out of here.”
Striding toward the door, Calier pulled up short as he saw the short sword hanging next to the door frame. It was a reproduction of a rare artifact that had been recovered in the Bayitam Ruins. The university had commissioned it for him and had surprised him with the gift on the day his book about the ruins was published. Very few weapons from such an ancient time period existed and this sword had been in excellent condition, the remnants of a leather scabbard wrapped around the pitted blade. The reproduction, however, was shiny and new, complete with a full scabbard inlaid with traditional ancient Aerean glyphs depicting the story of the ancient pagan god of war.
Calier pulled the sword down off the wall, unsheathed it and saw his reflection in the flawlessly polished blade, a blade never meant to be used, but crafted in the same manner as if it was to be put into the hands of a warrior whose life depended on its craftsmanship. He buckled the sword around his waist.
I never expected to be putting this on, he thought. He imagined it must look ridiculous buckled around the dress clothes he still wore. It was like he was going to a costume party. A costume party only he was attending.
Looking at Maltoki, he said, “Just in case.”
Maltoki nodded. “Can we find me a toy, too?”
Calier smiled. “I know just the one.”
They moved off through the building, stopping in the cafeteria. They took what dried meals they could find, those that would only require the addition of water, and then Calier led the way back to the atrium. In the atrium was a glass case displaying a collection of reproduced Aerean weapons through the ages.
Maltoki opened the case, looking at the weapons, and then chose a short sword that was slightly curved and had a partially serrated back edge. This particular piece ha
d been the multi-tool of its day, serving a dual purpose as a lethal weapon whose size lent it to maneuverability and quick movements, and as the tool of choice of early pioneers who had tamed new parts of Aereas. They had used it for clearing brush and tall grass as well as cutting down fruit, the serrated edge being very handy for that purpose.
Calier’s eyebrows rose, “Well chosen. Simple and practical while still maintaining an intimidating posture.”
Maltoki chuckled as he strapped on the blade. “We make quite a pair, two academics playing warrior. Any soldiers who happen to see us will surely run in the other direction.”
Calier laughed and looked out of the atrium windows. The sun was setting and the sky was beginning to turn orange, the wispy clouds soaking up the radiance of another day’s sun. It was somewhat of a comfort to Calier, a promise, really, that no matter what happened, no matter how hard things might become, that the sun still would rise and set everyday. If he was blessed enough to see that, it meant he was still alive and still working toward restoring his homeland.
“Let’s go. We have someone we need to pick up and then it’ll be time to bid farewell to our fair city until fate sees fit to restore her to us.” Calier led the way out of the building, cautiously moving through the shadows cast by the waning sun. They moved through the streets, dashing from cover to cover. Before turning the corner that would lead him back in the direction of the park, Calier turned and looked at the university one last time. He realized that in a very real way he was leaving behind Calier the antiquities professor. That man belonged to yesterday and to a time that no longer existed on Aereas.
The Calier that now turned his back on the university belonged to a new day, a new future that was filled with uncertainty and hardships.
Kneeling behind what had once been part of an art museum but was now just another piece of rubble, Calier let go of who he had been and knew that in time he must embrace who he was to become. Only time would reveal who that man was to be. Calier prayed that he and Aereas had that much time left.
