I had a good bottle of port at the ready when I sat down with Maelgwn’s orb that evening.
I found myself reminiscing on my twentieth century youth back on Gaia — for it felt rather like I had just hired an excellent video that I’d been dying to see. I was off to join a rebel band of star warriors and discover a forbidden love, not to mention defeat a few bad guys. Maelgwn’s recollections never differed in that regard either.
After a glass or two of port, I’d had enough of winding myself up. I settled back in my chair preparing to be catapulted into deep space as I activated the orb to transmit.
At first there was no visual, only audio. Women speaking in different tongues could be heard, and in his mind Maelgwn translated the foreign dialects, understanding them perfectly; these voices belonged to women he’d known in the past.
‘Shar Turan is very handsome, don’t you think?’
‘You just see his son in him, Sibyl. And the name of his Chosen incarnation is Maelgwn of Gwynedd.’
Ione? Maelgwn recognised this voice distinctly and wanted to stir from his coma, but his body was just so heavy.
‘Leave him rest,’ said a third woman.
‘Katren?’ Maelgwn managed to mumble aloud.
‘He must have recognised your voice, Candace. Maybe he is coming around?’
‘I wouldn’t think so. Why don’t you two go check on his grandson and great-great-grandson … see how they’re doing?’
My grandson! My great-great-grandson! Maelgwn overcame his lethargy to stir himself.
‘It’s alright. Easy now.’
‘Katren?’ As Maelgwn parted his eyelids to a squint and strained to focus, the visual transmission of the orb commenced.
‘Yes, Maelgwn, it is I, although my chosen incarnation is known as Candace. I am here to help you emerge from your recuperation, so let’s take it slow and easy.’
‘Alright,’ he mumbled as she came into focus. But when he attempted to sit up, all his nerves went to jelly and he started to tremble. ‘What’s wrong with me?’
‘Nothing that won’t fix itself in a couple of minutes. Your body is in shock, that’s all. Lie still a moment, and let it adjust to its new environment.’
‘New environment?’ Maelgwn had no choice but to recline. It set his head spinning to try and resist. What has happened? Where am I?
He closed his eyes to search for his last recollection; it was of Tory. She was bathed in a bright light which lit up her eyes that were the most beautiful shade of violet. Maelgwn thought this rather odd as his wife’s eyes were green, and yet the memory was very distinct.
‘We shall meet again,’ he’d said, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
‘I know it,’ Tory had assured him, stealing one last fleeting kiss.
‘Nay!’ Maelgwn was outraged when he realised what had happened.
The Gods had come for him on his deathbed as foretold, and Tory was as distanced from him as she would have been if his body had been fed to the flame.
‘I am not ready to leave her,’ he cried in anguish. ‘Twenty years, ’tis not enough.’
‘Right.’ Candace injected Maelgwn before he even knew what had happened.
‘What was that?’ The aftershock of the injection snatched Maelgwn from his grieving.
‘Just a little something for your nerves,’ Candace explained with a smile. ‘You’ll feel its effect any second now.’
As every muscle in Maelgwn’s body suddenly relaxed, he sank into the bed feeling calm and at peace. ‘Wow, instant bliss,’ he mumbled.
‘Now that you’re more at ease, allow me to introduce everyone. I am Candace of Shamar.’ Candace then motioned to the woman Maelgwn recognised as Ione. ‘This is Boadicea of the Iceni.’
Now that was a name Maelgwn recognised. ‘The great warrioress who rebelled against Rome by burning Londinium and St Albans?’
Boadicea winked to confirm this.
‘And this is Sibyl.’ Candace moved on, motioning to a beautiful young woman with eyes of amber that matched her long light-brown locks, which were tinged with the same flaming colour. ‘She is from Chailidocean and was a seer of the Highest Order there.’
In the age Maelgwn had just been snatched from, this young woman had taken the fancy of his son, Rhun. She was Bridgit, daughter of Vortipor the Protector of Dyfed.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you at last … I have seen great things around you,’ she told him.
Maelgwn noted that this woman used telepathy to communicate as the Gods did.
‘I have had the pleasure of meeting your —’
Candace nudged Sibyl to prevent her from disclosing her association with Maelgwn’s wife, as they were supposed to be trying to get his mind off his recent loss. ‘We are all members of your squadron. There are ten of us in all, including yourself, most of whom you will recognise. We have been selected from every clan that ever inhabited the four corners of the planet we once called home, from the beginning of humankind’s cultured history there to the time of the great Gathering. For we, like you, are the Chosen Ones. All descended of the one God, the Lord Marduk.’
Maelgwn boggled at her words. Finally, some decent answers regarding the true meaning of what it was to be one of the Chosen, for Taliesin had always been rather vague when it came to the subject. ‘How many do the Chosen number in all?’
‘Thousands,’ she informed frankly. ‘And our number will double come the time of the Gathering.’
‘When I shall be reunited with Tory once more,’ Maelgwn concluded, falling into a deep melancholy.
‘Nice going, Candace,’ Boadicea jeered her.
‘Well, I thought I was avoiding the subject.’ Candace shrugged.
‘Hey, Dragon,’ Boadicea whistled to gain his attention. ‘Don’t be down about it. We are all in the same boat. Let me ask you something —’
‘No, Bo,’ Sibyl urged, knowing Boadicea could be a bit blunt and callous.
‘Chill, sister.’ The warrioress assured Sibyl that she had everything under control before returning her focus to the patient. ‘Besides Tory Alexander —’
The other two women groaned when Boadicea mentioned his wife’s name straight off.
‘Oh, come on, he’s a big boy,’ she justified. ‘He can handle it!’
‘I am fine.’ Maelgwn cut in, wishing his hosts had sent one female instead of three to sort him out. ‘Besides Tory …?’ he prompted Boadicea to ask her question.
‘What is the next most enjoyable thing in life for you?’
‘Um …’ Maelgwn frowned, groggy from his sedation. ‘Exploration,’ he raised both brows to suppose, ‘and study.’
‘Well, then … welcome to paradise,’ Boadicea announced with glee, turning to Candace to instruct. ‘Hit him with an upper.’
Candace was hesitant to comply. ‘I don’t think it would be a good idea to mix his medications like that.’
‘Rubbish. We need to get him mobile.’ The warrioress picked up a tiny cylindrical object, which was the same manner of device as Candace had used to administer Maelgwn’s sedative. ‘Besides, the Dragon is immortal now, so it’s hardly going to cause him any permanent damage.’
As soon as Boadicea shot him with the second injection Maelgwn sat upright. His body tingled all over, as if every little molecule was suddenly bursting with energy, and yet he maintained the comforting warm fuzzy feeling the first injection had induced. Maelgwn couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good. ‘I’m immortal now?’ He smiled gleefully.
‘Well, how do you think you understand us all, when we are of different tribes, languages and periods of history?’ Candace posed. ‘Or explain the complete remission of the disease that plagued your body? Or the disappearance of your battle scars?’
Maelgwn whipped off his shirt and looked down over his body to find that, not only had the scars gone, but his physique had resumed the warrior form of his prime.
Boadicea held up a mirror in front of Maelgwn and he observed the Prince who h
ad wed Tory Alexander. ‘I am young again,’ he uttered, pleased and stunned by the fact.
‘And looking good.’ Boadicea raised both brows as she eyed over the muscles of his upper body.
Maelgwn pulled his shirt back on, a little disconcerted by Boadicea’s comment. ‘Why are my telepathic communication skills already functioning. That kind of ability needs to be mastered, does it not?’
Candace cocked an eye — this man was on the ball. ‘Here on the Aten we have the genetic know-how to activate that function in your brain. You have also had massive amounts of other data fed into your mind as you slept, which will present itself as required. This saves wasting time and resources on training … everything you’ll ever need to know about survival in space has already been committed to your memory.’
‘Space?’ Maelgwn rose to look for a window, but could not locate one. Then it occurred to him that everything here was psychokinetically operated. With this knowledge he willed the shields of a large, circular feature in the wall to part and expose the cosmos beyond. ‘I’m in space,’ he muttered, wandering to the porthole to gaze out on the distant sun — very distant, in fact. ‘Where are we going?’
All three woman shrugged.
‘We’re fleeing!’ Candace advised. ‘What else can outlaws do?’
‘Outlaws!’ Maelgwn didn’t like the sound of that at all.
‘Perhaps, um, rebels is a better description,’ Boadicea posed.
The one door to the small, sterile-looking recovery room vanished, and in walked Vortipor of Dyfed, Prince Bryce and Lady Alma.
Maelgwn had seen Alma perish in the recent demolition of his stronghold at Aberffraw. It was amazing to see her striding around, living and breathing. Like the other three women present, she was dressed in some manner of tight body-hugging armour. It had a dull shine, like tarnished metal, but it was completely black. All-terrain, living, organic fibre suits, his memory informed. More so than the other women, Alma sported all manner of devices that were strapped to a belt slung around her waist.
‘Sorry, I couldn’t stop him.’ Alma motioned to Vortipor. ‘When he heard the Dragon was here,’ she shrugged in conclusion.
‘Vortipor?’ Maelgwn held back his emotion, overwhelmed with joy to see his old friend and colleague.
The young man shook his head. ‘Vortipor was my grandfather, as you were my grandfather. I am Cadwell, son of Rhun, born the year after your disappearance. And yet, I learn, we have arrived at our destination at the same time!’ Cadwell approached to shake his grandfather’s hand. ‘Taliesin told me we would meet one day, but I did scarce believe him. I know thy legend backward, forward and sideways, Grandfather. It is an honour and a privilege to make your acquaintance.’
These words of admiration pouring out of this young replica of Vortipor just seemed too strange. Maelgwn didn’t know how to react. ‘The pleasure is all mine, Cadwell.’ He embraced his grandson — which might not have been his first reaction had he not been so high.
Cadwell returned the sentiment, slapping Maelgwn’s back a few times in the process. ‘I cannot believe I shall finally get to fight alongside the Dragon!’
‘I was kind of hoping that fighting might be a thing of the past,’ Maelgwn commented, whereby the four women present shied from his forlorn hope by coughing, whistling, or averting their eyes.
‘You always were too optimistic, they say.’ Cadwell turned to introduce his grandson. ‘You might mistake this fellow for Prince Bryce. I did … but he is in fact, my grandson, Cadwallon.’
Cadwallon stepped forward and bowed to Maelgwn as his Masters once had. ‘I remember much of the life I spent in your service, Dragon, thanks to Taliesin. I have greatly looked forward to our reunion, although, like Cadwell, I never truly imagined it would happen.’
Maelgwn took Cadwallon in a headlock and ruffled his hair, an action of endearment that Prince Bryce was subjected to for most of his life. ‘That makes three of us.’
‘Four,’ said Candace.
‘Five,’ Boadicea added.
Six, Sibyl kept the round going.
‘Seven!’ Talynn cheered in conclusion, as all present gave a mighty yahoo!
‘So, who are the other three members of our force?’ Maelgwn questioned, and the ladies all smiled in response.
‘They are still recovering,’ Boadicea informed. ‘For they were picked up from later periods in history than ourselves.’
‘But who are they?’ Maelgwn stressed the question, so that it could not be avoided a second time.
‘Why don’t we concentrate on getting you lot settled in first,’ Candace advised. ‘Our missing team members shall join us presently.’
Candace took Maelgwn and his kin on a sightseeing tour of the Aten, to get them familiar with their surroundings. The memory implants would aid the recruits to settle in, but it usually took a little time to process all the information.
The first stop was the suiting station. It was time to rid the lads from Gwynedd of their outdated attire and suit them up for the space age.
This room was more futuristic in appearance than anything Taliesin had ever exposed the once-Kings to. Full suits the like of the ones the females wore were suspended in individual allotments around the large circular quarters. A central domed area in the ceiling shed a subtle mauve light over a large round lounge, which gave the room a very calm and inviting atmosphere.
‘Suit up, fellows.’ Candace stayed in the corridor as the men entered the suiting room. ‘I’ll be back presently,’ she informed them, whereby the door reappeared and sealed the new recruits inside.
‘Hey, check this out.’ Cadwell called for the attention of his team-mates as he pulled a dagger from a scabbard at his waist.
As his grandson raised the dagger to the body of his new attire, Maelgwn thought he should discourage whatever it was he had in mind. ‘Not advisable —’
Cadwell slashed all the way through the spacesuit, whereby it instantly repaired itself. ‘Immortal suits!’ he concluded with a chuckle.
Maelgwn had to enjoy Cadwell’s sick sense of humour. He truly was Vortipor incarnate.
The thick, smooth living-organic fibre moulded itself to fit the body of the wearer, so one size fitted all. It hugged and moved with the body like an additional layer of skin. This amazingly durable material allowed the body to breathe whilst keeping it just warm enough, and adjusted to be comfortable in any environment.
‘The mark of Marduk.’ Cadwallon pointed to the left-hand shoulder of the suit he now wore where there was a golden motif of a serpent sliding over a large circle, inside which was a large eye.
‘Cool. Did I get one?’ Cadwell looked his suit over and was most gratified when he found that all the suits had them.
There were all manner of strange devices stored in the lockers, along with a belt to clamp them on. There was also a set of metallic bands and a handheld weapon that rested in a thigh holster. These items were all attached to the back wall of the lockers, seemingly by nothing, and yet all three men failed to be able to retrieve any of them.
‘I thought we knew everything we needed to know,’ Cadwell grumbled, ‘so why do I not know how to retrieve this stuff?’
‘You’re asking the wrong question,’ said Cadwallon, who’d given up toying with the weaponry upon his first failed attempt to retrieve it. ‘The question is not how, but when? It’s all magnetically sealed to the wall and only released —’
‘Under mission conditions.’ Cadwell ended the sentence for Cadwallon, having recalled the information himself.
Maelgwn pulled on his shin-high boots, crafted from the same strange black metal as most of their transport. This substance was known as charichalum.
Charichalum was stronger and more abundant than the orichalchum once mined and used by the ancient Atlanteans of Gaia. The lightweight, black metal was mined by the Nefilim on one of the outermost planets of the Sirius system, known as Numun, meaning ‘dark land’.
Maelgwn was surprised to find the f
ootwear was basically weightless. He jumped up to standing position, and began pacing around. The boots were lined and padded with the same self-perpetuating, conforming fibre as his suit, and Maelgwn wallowed in the comfort. ‘These are, without doubt, the best set of boots I’ve ever had.’ The warrior jumped up and down, squatted, then stood up again. ‘Fantastic,’ he concluded, well pleased.
The entry door vanished to reveal Candace, waiting to escort the men on the rest of their tour. ‘Now that’s more like it.’ She admired the three handsome males a moment, then, with a flick of her head, encouraged them to follow her.
‘Shall we go, girls.’ Cadwell fastened his second boot and stood to motion his kinsmen out the door ahead of him. ‘No dawdlers, please.’ He ushered them along.
‘He really loves the sound of his own voice, doesn’t he?’ Maelgwn muttered in an aside to Cadwallon, who raised both brows and gave a slight nod.
‘Not as much as he enjoys the glimmer of his own limelight,’ he advised.
‘What do you mean?’ Cadwell defended, placing one arm over Maelgwn’s shoulder and the other over Cadwallon’s. ‘Can I help being born so wonderfully perfect?’
‘Unbelievable.’ Maelgwn placed a hand on his grandson’s face and shoved him backwards. ‘And I thought his father was conceited.’
Cadwallon was amused by the comment and pleased that he and the legendary Dragon were getting along so well. ‘My father, Cadfan, was just the opposite,’ he informed.
‘You must tell me about him.’ Maelgwn expressed his deep interest in learning more about the generations that proceeded him.
‘My boy was a witch, not a warrior … had a thing for flowers and herbs.’ Cadwell screwed up his nose, disgusted.
His view was much to Cadwallon’s annoyance. ‘My father cured the sick and raised the dead, which is far more than you —’
Chronicle of Ages Page 16
