by Gene Stiles
Now, at last, the band found themselves at the edge of the forest near the place Morpheus had hidden the sled. The rain had lessened to a surly mist and the wind sulked off to harrow some other hapless victims. In the distance, the lights of Atlantis sparkled in the moist air, surrounded by multicolored halos that danced and shimmered like frenzied fairies.
“Here is where we must part, my friends.” Morpheus sat cross-legged before the Clan, face nearly hidden in the deep shadows. “Before the break of dawn, Nuvan and I must make our way back into the city. I am not sure of my standing in Atlantis anymore so I need to find a safe place to stay. Nuvan will contact his brother to see what has transpired in our absence and we shall plan further from there.”
Guel stared out at the flickering city lights, his jaw set and his dark eyes set like stone in his hard, chiseled face. “Is Nuvan not in as much danger as you? He, too, has been gone a while and has probably been missed. If your people connect his disappearance to the explosion, he could be taken.”
“It is not likely he would be missed,” Morpheus responded with the slightest crack of a ghostly smile. “He chose to come for that very reason. Nuvan and his brother, Navis, are as alike as you and your reflection in still water. More than once, they have confused me into thinking one of them was actually both.” He gripped his friend’s shoulder and continued. “It is their favorite game. If I could not tell the difference, rest assured, no one else could.”
Taking each member of the Izon into his gaze, Morpheus said, “It is good to know you have our backs if things should not go well. I ask you to remain in this area for the next two days. If we are not back within that time, you must return to the Izon and get as far from here as you can.”
Guel shrugged his shoulders. “Just how do you expect us to do that? The pass is closed and we know of no other trail other than sailing the Great Water. We have no boat to make that journey.” His companions muttered their agreement. “No, Morpheus, we all knew when we closed the route home that we would never see our families again.” A vicious crack of lightning brightened the blackness of night. In the momentary glow, the tenseness of muscles, clenched jaws and burning eyes of the Clan was clearly visible. “If you do not return, we will find our own way into the city and we will find Haleah…or take our revenge.”
Morpheus knew they would brook no argument no matter what he said. Instead, he simply nodded in reply. “Understood. Keep in mind, my friends that I give you my vow as well. We shall find Haleah and bring her to you…or die in the attempt.”
Chapter VIII
Getting back into the city was far more difficult that Morpheus had expected. Crossing the isle of the One Tree and reaching the rocks where he had begun this journey was the easy part. He and Nuvan traversed the distance quickly, staying along the edge of the crevasse where the trail was littered less with rocks and boulders. False dawn just barely touched the gray sky by the time they reached the outer buildings of the city. It was here their true problems began. The streets were alive with patrols. The Aam were everywhere, crisscrossing the streets and alleyways, leaving only a few moments between their passings. Nuvan and Morpheus slunk from shadow to shadow, drifting between the legions like mist in the wind. Time was their enemy now, their tactics slowing their progress to the point that the sky was brightening to the point that soon there would be no dark patches in which to hide. The nearer they got to the city proper, the more people entered the thoroughfares to begin the business of the day. More than once, the two men had to slip on their hoods, thankful for the light showers that marked the last remnants of the dying storm to give them reason to bow their heads. In this guise, they were able to mingle with the flow of the crowd and not draw undue attention.
They neared the house of Morpheus only to spy hidden sentinels keeping a vigilant watch on his residence. Changing plans, they made their way to the home of Nuvan. His brother had played his game well, it seemed. Careful reconnaissance of the nearby windows, alleys and streets assured the men the way was clear. Both of them sighed with weary relief, closed the heavy door behind them as they entered and shed the wet cloaks.
Morpheus sipped gingerly at a steaming cup of dark green tea, the curling mist filling his nostrils with a sweet, delicious aroma. The heat radiating from the big cup dried his still-damp fingers and warmed his big hands. The meal of fresh strips of fried meat and eggs, topped off with heated bread slathered over with fresh jelly, filled his belly with its pleasant weight. He felt his eyelids drooping in contentment, knowing his body craved rest and renewal.
Nuvan sprawled on the overly padded, light brown couch on the other side of the room, taking long drafts of his own tea. “I know how anxious you are, Morpheus, but we both need to catch a little sleep or our senses will be dulled and worthless if trouble should strike us. With what we have seen, it will find us soon enough anyway. We must be up to the challenge.”
“You are right, of course,” Morpheus nodded, his black eyes peering into his tea as if to find answers. “Still I must know what has transpired to cause such a high alert of the Aam. It will make finding Haleah all the more difficult if we have to waste most of our time avoiding confrontation.”
“I do not fear confrontation,” Nuvan replied. “I just want to know from where it comes. My brother, if he is keeping to his routine, should be here in a few, scant hours. We can rest until he awakens us. We will have answers then.”
Morpheus felt his entire body closing down around him. “It also seems, after seeing the guards on my home that for me to show my face in the city would not help our cause. We shall do as you say. We can do little else.”
Forcing himself upright, Nuvan dragged himself off to the warmth of his waiting bed, leaving the sofa for Morpheus to seek his comfort. Morpheus fell at once into the deep abyss of dreamless slumber.
So immersed was his body in the nebulous abyss of lassitude that when his numbed mind finally registered the faraway voice calling his name, his cat-like reflexes abandoned him completely. Instead, he fought his way toward consciousness as if he swam through a choking morass of quicksand. At last, he blinked crusted eyelids open to find Nuvan shaking his shoulder and calling out his name.
“Morpheus, rouse yourself. We have company.” The tenor of his voice was so resonant with tension that the last vestiges of fog ripped from his brain as if a sudden gale encompassed him.
He was shocked to find so many crowded into such a small living room. The low, intense buzz of conversation washing over him obscured the nature of the exact words being spoken. Someone shoved a fresh, steaming mug of tea into his hand and the room stilled as if awaiting his participation and comment. Nuvan and Anaxus sat beside him. Navis perched on the edge of the overstuffed chair as if he would spring to the attack any moment. The rest of the room was so thick with Aam that Morpheus worried that they were about to be taken prisoner.
Anaxus broke the silence with a simple comment as full of dread as it was unnecessary. “We have a problem.”
Morpheus sipped his tea and replied, “I gathered as much.” He saw the red glints sparkling in the eyes around him. He noted the creased brows, the set jaws, the rigidness in the stances of the twenty or so men and women gathered here. “Fill me in on all that has occurred in my absence.”
Anaxus nodded his lionesque head and dove into his report. Navis and others in the room interjected their own observations and comments along the way. What emerged was appalling and terrifying yet some of what was said and left unsaid renewed some of the faith in the People that Morpheus had lost in recent months
Over the last year, Cronus and a select few of the Council had orchestrated a quiet, carefully controlled division of people and resources. It began with the Aam. Candidates were screened and split into specific types, the training each squad received based on the purpose for which they were intended. Most, like the contingent Morpheus led, were peacekeepers, assigned to keep order within the city. Some were scouts, sent out to survey the entire continent and
to create maps. Other specialized, long distance scouts had already been dispatched to chart the surrounding landmasses. This group included geologists, cartographers and security personnel. All of these divisions were necessary, understandable and did not raise the slightest suspicion.
“After we learned of the horrific methods used when the Izon escaped,” Anaxus continued, his voice rumbling in his massive chest, “we found other units imbedded into the Aam that had gone unnoticed. These men were chosen for their viciousness alone it seems. The squads assigned to all aspects of dealing with the Izon were of this ilk. They were their guards and overseers. They kept them penned like animals and punished them if they objected. These units refer to themselves as the Black Guard. The term was never used aloud to my knowledge - until recently.”
Anaxus buried his great head in his hands and took a deep breath. When he raised his tormented face to gaze at Morpheus, his deep brown eyes were damp but slitted to match the tightness of his thin lips. “I am shocked and ashamed,” he growled, “that I had paid so little attention to what was happening right in front of my own face! Even when Haleah told us of the plight of the Clan, some part of me discounted the very idea, assuring myself none of the Aam would bully or persecute hapless peoples. Surely none of us would use lethal force on unarmed men, women or children!”
He shook his head as if to clear his mind of such abhorrent visions. “I should have known.” Anaxus rose to his feet and took in the room with an expansive wave of his hand. “I assure you, none of the commanders in this room nor any of their men would be party to such vile actions!”
Mumbles and curses echoed his sentiments. “When word of this spread, it appears that Cronus moved his Black Guard battalions to separate barracks and turned city security over to just these units. The rest of us have been told to stand down. Even our weapons were replaced. We now have stunners only while the plasma rifles are securely in the hands of the Black Guard. The question which plagues us is what are we to do now?”
“The first thing we must do is learn what our options are and what we are up against.” Morpheus rose, no longer able to simply sit and listen. “Number one, how do we know Cronus is responsible and, if so, how many of the council support him?”
“I believe I may be able to provide you with that information.” The woman who accompanied that voice into the center of the room caused Morpheus to stare in astonishment. He had only met her once or twice, but knew her in that first glance. Rhea glided through the crowd, her Enviro-Suit overlaid with a black, form-fitting one-piece suit that hugged every curve of her athletic body. Her honey-blond hair, braided and hanging down past her narrow waist, swayed with each step of her long, shapely legs. If such titles were ever resurrected from the ancient history of the People, Rhea would be the epitome of a Queen. She moved with the same air of grace and innate confidence that Haleah displayed in her motions.
Haleah. Morpheus felt an iron fist clamp down on his heart with frigid fingers. So great was the dread that swept through his veins that he dared raise his hand to ward off further comment from Rhea. “Before we go further, there is one question that needs be answered first. Have any of you learned of the whereabouts of Haleah?”
Rhea rested her gentle hand on his arm, her face mirroring the anguished concern filling his somber eyes. “That, too, I can answer. However, you will not like what you hear.” She took a seat on a padded footstool and waved Morpheus to sit down once again. “Navis came to enlist my aid in finding Haleah. I learned just yesterday where she is being held – and what has befallen her.” Rhea took his massive hands between her tiny ones. “I hope you can forgive me for not learning of her fate sooner,” she whispered.
“She was captured when the Izon fled the valley. Cronus told no one of this, letting us all believe she had slipped into the mountains with the rest of her Clan.” Such despair traced deep lines on Rhea’s face that Morpheus crumbled inwardly, dreading the next words to be uttered. “She has been imprisoned in one of a row of cells built into the lowest levels of the Great Pyramid.” Tears streaked down her lovely face and her hand gripped down on his muscled-knotted forearm. “She has been tortured,” Rhea cried softly.
Stunned, Morpheus could barely breathe. He could hear the quiver in the voice of Anaxus as his friend added, “That is how Cronus learned of the trail the Izon would take, my friend.”
So much was implied in that simple, short statement that the air was ripped from his chest and Morpheus felt his blood begin to boil. What would it have taken to force Haleah to betray her Clan? Visions of nauseating, repugnant and despicable acts perpetrated on his love turned his mind inside out, filling his soul with vengeance.
His voice quaking with trepidation, Morpheus asked the one question he feared answered. “Does Haleah live?”
Morpheus screamed inside to bolt immediately through the door, invade the Great Pyramid and carry Haleah from the depths of it. He surely would have if not for the others restraining him with pure logic. He knew he had waited too long to whisper to Haleah all that filled his heart to overflowing. He longed to tell her how he loved every liquid movement she made; how the sparkle of her smile spread warmth down his spine. She needed to know how the simple touch of her hand upon his skin sent shimmers along every muscle he possessed. And her caress! Ah, her caress.
“It would be sheer folly, Morpheus.” Rhea splashed icy cold water on his desires. “Yes, I could get you into the Pyramid but once there you would have to contend with armed guards at every corner. You are a wanted man. Word has spread that you personally killed the Aam sent to retrieve the Izon.”
“I am responsible, to be sure,” he nodded.
Nuvan would not allow such a statement. He leaned from the edge of his chair, firmly planting his balled knuckles on the low table in front of him. His blue eyes dark and narrowed, his jaw clenched. “This is nowhere near the case,” he rumbled. “It was I who created the plan to close the passage. I brought the explosives. I showed the Izon how to use them. If there is blame for the loss of those lives, the responsibility lies directly at my feet. Not yours! Do not think to relieve me of my guilt. It is my burden alone to bear!”
“Not alone,” Anaxus responded, resting his burly hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Each of us here bare some measure of accountability for all that has occurred. If we had been more aware, the Clan would never have been so sorely used.” Amid murmurs of assent and nodding heads, he continued. “If we had stood up as one and railed against the deaths of men, women and children when they escaped, the Aam would not have been sent to retrieve them in the first place. We all should have listened more, saw more, reacted much faster than we did. Many lives would have been saved – and not just those few Aam.”
“Most of all,” Rhea interjected, “We of the Council are at fault. It is our place to take care of our charges – the People and the Izon alike. We did not do that.”
Rhea rose from her chair, raising her voice to encompass everyone in the room. Despite her grace and confidence, the slump of her shoulders, the wetness that made her brilliant blue eyes shimmer like a mountain lake, displayed all too clearly the sorrow that ate at her. “I could tell you all that we have been swamped by the work of building Atlantis. I could attempt to excuse our failures by sharing with you the fact that each member of the Council is overwhelmed with specialized tasks and that we sometimes see only within our narrow tracks. I am sure there is no need to tell you of the impact of so many new children on us all.” A ripple of hushed, terse laugher at that understatement eased the tension for a brief moment.
“I could even list for you the problems we are working day and night to solve that you are not even aware of – such as the simple fact that the power sources for everything in the city from the lights to the weapons will fail within a few short years.” A collective gasp echoed around her at that announcement.
“There are two things in particular that I cannot justify so easily, though.” Rhea shook her head sadly. “I cannot a
bsolve any of us for our treatment of the Izon, our indifference, or ignorance. There is no excuse. Worse yet, I cannot for the life of me reconcile the hatred I see in the blazing eyes of my husband for every member of the Clan with the caring, compassionate, loving man I married. This will prove to be a major problem for us in our endeavors.”
Morpheus cringed. He was well aware that he was the only person in the room that could shed light on the hatred that Cronus felt. He longed to tell everyone what he knew, yet he could not. He had given his word to Haleah and would never break that vow. Furthermore, he was not at all assured that such knowledge would not backfire upon the entire Clan. He bit his lip and kept his thoughts to himself.
“Cronus is seen as almost a god to most of the People.” Rhea seemed very apologetic in her statement. “None of us will forget his dedication or all he endured on Mars. It was he who fought and killed his own father to save the People and bring us here. All we have accomplished on this world is seen as done through his guidance alone. Though I truly hate to say it, to turn the People or even half of the Council against his decisions will be nigh impossible – especially over what many sickeningly see as just a group of only slightly domesticated animals.”
“Since the Izon escaped,” she finished, “the Council has been in constant debate over the fate of the remaining Clan members and the wisdom of recapturing the rest. I have to tell you, my friends, though more than a few of the Council disagree, I do believe that when that debate concludes, whatever Cronus decides is what will be done.”
In the next few hours, those remaining in the room struggled to form a plan. Most of the commanders had to return to their units to prevent undo suspicion from hampering any action. Morpheus insisted that rescuing Haleah was of paramount import. Not only was time of the essence in securing her release, but she was the key to the Izon. After their imprisonment and the death of so many innocents, they needed her to convince the Izon that these Aam were truly there to aid them. Though all in the gathering could see the wisdom of his words, each man and woman present shared a secret smile knowing that Morpheus sparsely hid another, much more important reason for getting her safely away.
