Chapter Twenty-nine
Maven Crackerjack
10:29 A.M...
Hellenistic Sector, Trade Vicinage...
Sun enslaving Dry Clouds hovered over the Factory like a cruel and angry master as several tractor trailers drove down the long stretch of road to the main facility. Armed Council S.C.Ms. watched the men unload the eighteen wheelers and transport the cargo into one of the buildings with forklifts. One by one, the workers uncrated the boxes in a variety of sizes and set up their contents in one of the Factory's large gyms. The room had earlier been cleared of its workout equipment and by late morning, the men finished uncrating the boxes. The Rogue busied itself with checking the invoices to make sure all the items had been delivered.
"What is the meaning of this?" a tall thin man shouted as he stormed into the room; he had stringy blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. He wore a stone-gray business suit and a white tie. The man adjusted his thin framed glasses with round lenses which made his light blue eyes look bigger than they were. Two Council S.C.Ms. had followed him in.
At the man's rude entrance, the Rogue turned from one of the delivery men it had been speaking with.
Indignant, the man spat, "I arrived at the Hellenistic Sector's Antiquity Museum this morning to find everything gone. Every piece from the Ginn L. Irynkissgthie exhibit was sold to this dreadful place." He walked around the room. "What could you possibly want with all this forgotten history?"
The Rogue signed the delivery sheet on a H.H.C., and the last of the workers left. "You must be the curator of the museum." It waved away the two S.C.Ms. that escorted the man through the Factory, and they left, leaving the Rogue to talk with the man alone.
"No, I am not the curator. I'm the assistant and I'm in charge of Ginn's exhibit. I'm Maven Crackerjack." He stepped forward. "And you are?"
"Mr. Pinchbeck, I am the Manager of the Factory." The Rogue walked over to a pedestal displaying an old leather bound book in a glass case. "Tell me Mr. Crackerjack, what do you know of Ginn?"
"What do I know?" he yelled and then yelled louder, "What do I know?" Maven folded his arms. "What don't I know?"
Moving to a painting of what looked like an abstract landscape, the Rogue studied the scene. "Do you want to know why I have brought all these things here?" It motioned to the items with its hand. "Answer me something then. Why did you say this is forgotten history?"
"It isn't completely forgotten." Maven pointed to himself. "I have dedicated my life to discovering these things and to understand Ginn's genius." He pulled out a white silk handkerchief from his suit pocket, removed his glasses, and cleaned the lenses. "I called it forgotten history because no one cares about what happened in the past. In this business world, all they care about is the future. I say we can learn about our future by examining the past."
"Well said, but how much of the past have you studied?"
"You mean you want to know how much I know about Irynkissgthie? He was born 559 B.D.C. and died in 478 B.D.C. nearly 500 years ago. He was a painter, sculptor, architect, musician, engineer, and scientist. The versatility and creative power of Ginn marked him as a supreme example of late Renaissance genius. He depicted in his drawings a scientific precision and consummated artistry subjects ranging from flying machines to caricatures. He also executed intricate anatomical studies of people, animals, and plants." Maven placed his glasses back on.
"No, I can get all that information from books and the internet. What I want to know is what you cannot find in them."
Maven questioned, "Why are you so interested?"
"It is a fair question, so let me show you why. Follow me please." The Rogue walked out of the display room, down several corridors, into Research Lab Five, and into the Gallery.
Maven looked over each of the statues. "These are quite amazing, but these don't answer my question. Why are you so interested?"
"These may not." The Rogue walked to a back wall, pressed a tile at the height of its shoulder, and the wall slid up. "Down this hall is the reason for my interest." It motioned with its hand. "After you."
Maven started down the long descending passage and with each few steps a light came on, lighting their way. After about fifteen minutes, the hall ended at a room, and Maven paused at the doorway. Several lights blinked on inside, lighting up the center where the two black stones sat on a platform. Maven examined them and said, "Amazing! You have pieces to the Stones?"
"They are incomplete. I thought so," the Rogue said. "But are they pieces of the same work?"
Maven's view...
"Do you see it?" I question.
I have never come across anyone who understands Ginn even just a little, and I'm tingling with excitement. I might have found someone I can share my knowledge with who will also appreciate it.
I say, "You see it, but you haven't figured out what it is you are seeing."
End Maven's view...
The Rogue asked, "What are you saying?"
"Where to begin?" He put his hands together as if praying. "It might sound preposterous, but I believe some things accredited to Ginn were really created by a man named Arcamedes."
The Rogue contemplated the significance of this truth. "There could be a second man?"
"Yes." Maven said, "Now tell me, why are you gathering Ginn's artifacts?"
"Answer me one more question. Do you believe the stones are only poems?"
Maven shook his head. "No, of course not; they're a prophecy. I believe two opposing prophecies."
"Opposing? It is intriguing."
Maven could hardly contain his excitement. "Yes, two possible outcomes."
"It is intriguing," the Rogue repeated. "And to answer your question as to why I am gathering the artifacts, I believe I have found the Rushlight."
Maven's view...
The Rushlight?
Mr. Pinchbeck is extraordinary, and in all the years I have poured over Ginn's works, I have never come close to figuring out who the Rushlight refers to.
I ask, "What great figure in history do you believe the Rushlight was?"
End Maven's view...
"History? Was?" the Rogue exclaimed. "Mr. Crackerjack, I believe the Rushlight is here. I believe the Rushlight is here living in Noir."
Maven considered the possibility. "I have something that might interest you," he said. "Come, let us return to the room housing the artifacts." Maven took the lead and they went back to the large gym and once inside, Maven walked to the glass case displaying the old leather bound book. He removed the protective cover, placed white gloves on from his coat pocket, and flipped through the tome. Maven removed an old parchment folded in half that had been tucked between two pages. "This is an old copy of a poem written by Arcamedes. It's one of the things I base my hypothesis on." He held out the parchment. "You might find one word interesting that's used repeatedly."
The Rogue started to take it, paused, went and put on gloves from a table, took the parchment, and read the poem entitled, You Will Weep.
"Where light brightened the day
now darkness preys.
Where love stayed the pain
now love is bane.
Rushlight, say goodbye.
Say you will embrace the night.
No.
Don't say I didn't try.
Don't say I gave up the fight.
Rushlight, the tears you wish to cry
will one day fall like rain.
For all the lies they told you,
for the hurt and the pain.
Rushlight, you will weep to be so alone.
Don't you know
you are marked and
you may never return home.
No.
Don't say I can't go home.
Don't say I can't change my destiny.
Rushlight, in the end
you'll be what I told you,
you will be.
No loyal friend w
ill you ever see.
Now say goodbye,
say you will fight the urge to cry.
Say you will embrace the Closing Of Days.
No.
I will shed tears.
I will defy my fate.
I will find a way.
Love is the test.
Then Rushlight,
these tears you cry
fall too late.
They won't take back your lies,
your folly, your pain.
You have committed the final sin
now there is no turning back.
Love has left you,
you will find no rest.
No matter what you say,
you can't run away from today.
No.
You lie.
I will beat the test.
No, Rushlight,
you will fail.
And you will weep when you face the end alone,
you are marked,
you may never return home.
You are marked,
you may never return home.
You are marked,
you may never return home."
The Rogue looked up from the parchment. "Rushlight? This reference is what you wanted me to see? What you are saying..."
"I'm saying, Mr. Pinchbeck," Maven interrupted. "Ginn did not write both of those tablets. It's my theory that Arcamedes wrote the second one. The one in which the Rushlight is mentioned."
"What does this mean?" the Rogue asked.
"It means, we don't have a man who couldn't see the future clearly. We have two different men looking into the aftertime. There are two possible out comes to the future they mention, depending on which path the Rushlight takes."
The Rogue said, "This is most interesting."
Maven placed the parchment back in the book and set the glass case over the tome. "Mr. Pinchbeck, will you allow me to chase this hypothesis?"
"Now you want to work for me? Are you saying you are no longer opposed to Ginn's Collection coming to the Factory?"
"Yes, I wish to work for you and no, I'm no longer opposed to the collection coming here. I see that it won't be collecting dust."
"Well then Mr. Crackerjack, chase your hypothesis with the full funding of the Factory."
#2 Shades of Gray: From Moscow, With Love Page 33
