The Jump Point

by Anthony James

  He was almost on top of her, when he stopped abruptly and slowly raised his head. Dark eyes looked her up and down, deep shadows making them seemed set deeper than they really were in a slightly pasty face. An indulgent mouth pursed slightly, offsetting a permanent fleshy pout. Mahra waited, intent on letting the newcomer make the first move. This was her domain. She'd make sure that much was clear. After what seemed like an age, the visitor spoke.

  "Where is he?" he asked. There was a deep, bored tiredness in his voice.

  Mahra could barely conceal her look of incredulity. Firstly, this stranger arrived unannounced, not so unusual, but with his general demeanour, not exactly normal, and then, with neither explanation nor introduction he proceeded to demand information from her. Well, she'd see about that.

  "Where is who?"

  "Oh, don't play games with me," he replied with a slight shake of his head. "You know exactly who I mean. The Old One. I've came to pay my respects. Now, if you would just take me to where he lies, I'll do what I came for and be gone."

  It was Mahra's turn to look him up and down. That a man such as this would have a link with the Old One seemed out of place. It certainly prompted questions. No, he should learn his place first.

  "And what business of yours would the Old One be?" she asked.

  She was uncomfortable with the severity that this newcomer seemed to invoke in her, of the harshness of her response. It was right that anybody from Cradle would wish to pay their respects invited or not, but there was something about this stranger that made her want to confront him. He narrowed his eyes and plucked at his lower lip before answering with a sigh.

  "Yes, I forget myself. I've not been in the company of others for so long. Forgive me. I'm called Aleyin. I'm what you might call the Old One's great failure. I've been travelling since the news of his passing. Now please, would you show me where he is, so I might say my farewells?"

  Mahra was still a little confused, but she couldn't help feeling sympathy for the hint of desperation that tinged his last question. It almost seemed as if he expected her to refuse. There was a feeling of something else etched deep beneath the tension and conflict that emanated from him. With a start, she realised what it was — a sense of great sadness and loss. She recognized the feeling within herself and for a moment, she felt a kinship with this man she knew nothing about. She could find out more about him later. For now, he had a need and she felt bound to satisfy it.

  With the briefest of nods, she pushed herself from the doorway, and without looking back to see if he was following, walked purposefully off toward the barrow where lay the last remains of the old man that they both had lost.

  When they reached the place, she sensed that this Aleyin wanted to be left alone, so she waited outside as he slipped inside to be with the Old One's body and pay his last respects.

  It was funny, but she had never thought of the Old One having been with anyone else before her, and now that she was faced with it, she was not quite sure how she felt about it. It was even more of a surprise that she'd have been preceded by one such as Aleyin. There was clearly something in him that was outside and apart. One primary principle that the Old One tried to instil in her was a sense of balance and peace within herself. She was not sure, but it felt like it was just these things were a part of what was missing from Aleyin, as if he wasn't only at war within himself, but with all that was outside of him. And there was that strange thing that Aleyin said, that he was the Old One's greatest failure. What did that mean? There were things in the world yet that she needed to know and understand, she knew that, but that made no sense.

  When Aleyin finally emerged from the barrow's dark recesses, it was to shield eyes red-rimmed with tears beneath his cowl. Mahra didn't know what private things passed between the Old One and Aleyin in the barrow depths, but clearly there was some unfinished business between the two. No matter how uncomfortable she felt with Aleyin, she couldn't help feeling some empathy. Still shielding his eyes within the depths of his hood, Aleyin looked up, scanning the now darkening sky before speaking to her.

  "I've done what I came to do. Now I'll leave you in peace." He turned and started to walk up the hill toward the line of trees and the darkness beyond. Mahra pushed herself to her feet.

  "Aleyin, wait. I ... " she called after him. It was as though he hadn't heard her.

  "Aleyin, stop!"

  He halted in mid-stride, not turning, just standing there.

  "Wait, come back with me. The night is nearly here. You have travelled a long way. Come back with me to the house. Please. Besides, I want to talk with you."

  Just for a moment, she thought he was going to reject her offer and continue. She could feel the moment of indecision and hesitation, but then, slowly he turned and made his way down the hill. Mahra waited for him and they walked together down the hillside to her small house in silence.

  Once inside, Mahra bade him sit at the simple table in the kitchen, while she busied herself preparing something to eat and drink. He looked about him as she worked, drinking in the surroundings as if tasting them with his eyes. Not a word passed between them until together, they pushed their empty plates away, having eaten their fill. Mahra was the first to break the silence.

  "So how did you know him, Aleyin? Oh, by the way, my name's Mahra."

  "Yes, I know. I read your bulletin."

  Of course, he had.

  After a moment more, he continued.

  "How? I don't know how. I don't know if I ever really did until it was far too late. But what would you know of such things?" he said, looking straight through her. He was making very little sense at all.

  She frowned and waited for him to continue. Just when she thought he had said all he was going to, he started talking again.

  "I also did my training here, within these very walls. It hasn't changed much, you know. Still the same. I was his student too. Probably one, no, more likely two before you. Only, well, things weren't quite the same for me. I found fear instead of harmony I suppose, and I left. I just walked away from him and I've been walking ever since. And now, now when it is far too late, I've walked back again."

  Aleyin stared down at his hands resting on the table in front of him, turning them over once, closing his fingers, and then back again. Just for a moment he bunched them into tight fists, then let them relax to lie flat upon the wood.

  Mahra was not sure how she should react. She could still sense the turmoil running through the man, and yet, despite the wrongness, she wanted to reach out and touch something within him. They did, after all, have a common link. Both had studied with the Old One. Both had felt his guiding hand upon their lives. That was something, but it did nothing to explain the discordance that was so out of character with the old man she knew.

  "I don't expect you to understand," he said. "But the Old One couldn't give me the answers I wanted. That's where we differed. He didn't like things that questioned his way of doing things; The Cradle's way of doing things."

  Aleyin lapsed into silence again and she studied him as he sat staring into his thoughts.

  He was pale as if he rarely saw the sun. With his hood thrown back, the whiteness of his skin stood out. He carried a little too much weight for his frame making him plump in both face and hands. His pallid colouring served to accentuate the pasty doughy look of his features. The shadows around his eyes were dark and as he sat in silence, he narrowed those deep black eyes from time to time, as if random thoughts flowed through him, giving him pause before he moved on to the next. Mahra didn't know whether she'd like to spend too much time around someone like him, but she felt some sort of weird attraction to him all the same.

  What was she to do with him? The night was wearing on and it didn't look like she'd get any meaningful conversation from him. Perhaps she'd do better in the morning.

  She couldn't put him in the room where the old man slept. That would not seem right. That meant that she'd have to take that bed herself. The room had stayed empty si
nce her mentor's passing and it didn't feel comfortable now that she planned to usurp his place. But there was no other real choice. By so doing, she supposed that finally she'd make the real acknowledgement that he had gone, something she knew consciously but had failed to admit deep within.

  She cleared her throat to break the silence, and gestured for him to follow her.

  He was amused at being given her bed. When she showed him his place, he looked around the room with a wry smile on his lips commenting on the lack of change. It made her feel further ill at ease knowing that he slept on the very same bed years before, that this was his room also. She tried to put those thoughts from her head as she bade him a good night.

  She left him and returned to the Old One's room. Despite her efforts to relax, she spent a restless night, staring up at the ceiling for a long time before finally drifting to sleep.

  The next morning was little different. Aleyin was moody and introspective, saying little as they shared the table over their light breakfast. Finally, Mahra could stand it no longer and decided to push the point. Here was an opportunity to find out more about the Old One, but from a different perspective. She also wanted to find out more about this Aleyin himself. He was so awkward and strange. She wondered what it was that brought him to be like that, so removed from the balance of the philosophies of The Cradle that had been instilled so firmly into herself.

  "Aleyin, tell me if I cross into places where you would rather I didn't go, but, do you mind if I ask a few questions — about the Old One and the time you spent with him?" His only response was a slight shrug. "All right then ... you said something about being a failure for him. I'm sorry, but what exactly did you mean?"

  There was a long pause before he answered. For a moment, Mahra feared she has been too direct too soon, but after a moment or two, Aleyin gave a deep sigh and started to talk. Once he had started, it was as if some great wall broke down and the words tumbled freely from his lips, following rapidly one after the other.

  "Failure, yes, that was what I said, wasn't it? I don't know. We were so different he and I. He was so, well, balanced, and I was quite the opposite. He always wanted to see what was right with the world, whereas I would see other things. I wanted other things. I couldn't understand why so much was denied to us. I could see the signs and hints of civilisation all about us and yet we were not allowed to use it. Everything had to be so hard. The tools were there, yet we were not allowed to use them. Have you not ever felt that, Mahra Kaitan?" he asked, an almost pleading tone in his voice.

  Now that he mentioned it, she supposed she had thought about it, but had never really questioned it. She gave a brief shake of her head and waited, as looking a little disappointed, he shrugged and continued.

  "The Old One gave me explanations for my questions, but I was never satisfied with what he told me. What could I do? Everything for him was harmony and balance. Everything had its place and that was that. He used to frustrate me. Even down to that endless cataloguing and collecting and note taking that he always did. I couldn't see the point of it all ... all that order. I guess I wanted something more than that. Haven't you thought about it yourself, Mahra? There's all that tech out there, all these tools to help make our lives easier, and yet we are denied it. Well, not exactly denied it I suppose, but you have to go looking for it. Why should we have to be constrained to live like we do, when we obviously have the capacity for so much more? There are the signs everywhere; the comps, other things…."

  "So, is that the problem, Aleyin?" asked Mahra.

  She wanted a little time to think about the things he was raising but she didn't want to get into a debate about it all. Not just yet.

  "In part I suppose it was, but I think it was more than that too. There was always some sort of friction between us, as if, I don't know, we didn't fit with each other. I could always tell when he was impatient with me — that was most of the time — and I resented the authority he tried to force upon me. He was always so dictatorial. I would do this and I must do that all the time. And of course, I fought against that."

  The picture Aleyin painted of the Old One was of a man she didn't recognize. The doubt had to be clearly visible upon her face, because he noticed it and immediately attempted to counter it.

  "Look, I've no doubt that things were very different for you, but you asked me what it was like for me, and I'm telling you. I'm convinced that each of us brings out something different in those we meet and deal with. It's almost as if there are relations of harmony and disharmony that flow between each and every one of us. With the Old One and me, we seemed to have the latter."

  Mahra thought about this and in some way, it seemed to make sense. There was always a sense of rightness in her relationship with the old man. It was not only their relationship, but also in their proximity that there was that feeling of comfort. There were other people who came, but she had never really thought about the way people interacted before now. She remembered the strange prickly sensation she had felt when Aleyin had first approached.

  "So, what do you do, Aleyin?"

  "What do I do? Do you not mean, where do I fit in the scheme of things? What is my part in the great pattern?" That underlying sense of bitterness once again tinged his reply. He gave a brief laugh.

  "Oh, I have my place. From time to time, they begrudge me a seat on the Council. They put up with me, more like. Most of the time I travel. I ask questions. I observe. In that way, funnily enough, I'm probably not too much different from the Old One himself. Wherever I can, I study the little tech we have access to and try to give it a place. Perhaps I'm classifying the wrongs and giving them a name. Who can say? All I know, Mahra, is that in this scheme of things, there is that which isn't right. There is more out there for us, and I'm trying to find it."

  Mahra felt the conviction in his voice, but she wasn't sure that she understood what he meant. Everything you could need was there within reach.

  "I can feel your questions without you having to voice them, Mahra. But let me ask you something. Don't you feel that you want more? What sense is there to the things that you do? Why are we kept away from those things that would take us away from ignorance and barbarism? I can tell you this much. If you were to ask those questions, you wouldn't get the answers. I know, because I've asked those questions and I continue to ask them. I believe there are answers, but I believe that those answers are kept to a very select few."

  "I don't see where this is leading, Aleyin. What is the point?"

  "Look, Mahra. I just want you to ask questions, that's all. Think about it. We see the evidence of tech about us. Who maintains it? Who kept it running? There must be those who keep the knowledge alive, and yet it is denied us. So where is the divide and why? Another thing ... these things in our heads, these implants ... why are they there? What purpose do they serve? That is a question I've asked many times.”

  “Implants? I…”

  Of course, she knew about them; they were part of standard knowledge. It was never something they had had cause to discuss. Never something she had questioned.

  “I could show you some things,” Aleyin continued, “but there would be little point now. They are there for a reason, I just haven't quite found out what that reason is yet. I have my suspicions. I don't expect you to follow where I'm leading with a few words, but take the time to think about the things I've said. Perhaps, in time, we might have an opportunity to talk about them again."

  Chapter Ten

  The upper level was totally different from the warehouse floor. Offices and comfortable furnishings populated the deck. The tall blonde sat, reclining languorously on a wide couch. The shorter of the two, who Mahra presumed had to be Garavenah, had already unslung her weapon and stood waiting for them by a well-stocked bar.

  "What's your pleasure Timon? I know your penchant for that evil brew you drink, but we don't run to the sort of standards that would suit your palate here. I know. I've got a nice bottle of Kalanian Green here. What about that?
"

  Pellis signified his assent and she took five tall glasses and placed them on the table before returning for the promised bottle. She re-joined them at the table and poured an even measure of green into each glass before sitting herself.

  "Sit, sit," she ordered pushing a glass toward each. "So, who's your friend?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in Mahra's direction.

  "Ah, forgive my rudeness, Gara," Pellis said then adopted a mock formality. "Garavenah, allow me to present Mahra Kaitan, most recent member of our happy little family. And her small companion there is Chutzpah."

  Garavenah nodded in Mahra's direction and sipped at her wine.

  "How much does she know Timon?"

  Pellis paused for a long time before answering. "None of it, Gara. None of it." He looked down at his glass and placed it carefully back on the table.

  "Fire, Timon! Then how could you — "

  "No, hold on Gara. All in good time. You know we lost Polk. We needed someone and ... I don't know ... she felt right."

  "But how could you bring her in without ... "

  Mahra didn't like the way she was being discussed, as if she was sitting somewhere else, rather than at the table across from the both of them, but she remembered Pellis's warnings and held her tongue. What was developing was becoming increasingly more intriguing. Pellis had to have caught her mood from her expression and cut the line of conversation short.