Duncan stood up and reached one hand towards Erina. “Let’s have some lunch.”
“How do you like it?” Foxso’l pinched one of the roasting litics, now dripping its reddish-blue blavia.
“How about well done?” Duncan asked as he got closer.
“You’ll have to wait for that. What about the lady?”
“Medium rare.”
Foxso’l pinched one of the fleshy roots with a sharpened stick. Nodding, he cut the litic in two halves with his jack-knife. “Here you are,” he said, extending a greasy piece of meat in his bare hands.
Erina responded with a hesitant smile.
“Come on, grab it,” Foxso’l added.
Erina grinned, trying to find some way to hold the meat without getting too soiled.
“Did you kids fill the canteens at the lake?” Foxso’l asked.
“Here they are.” Duncan unhitched them from his belt and placed them on the grass.
“Good.” Bending over the fire, Foxso’l cut another roasting root. “I guess this one might be ready for you.” He pinched the piece of meat with his jack-knife and tossed it over to Duncan, who caught it in the air. “Is it burnt enough?”
“It’s fine,” Duncan said, shifting the hot piece of meat from one hand to the other.
Picking a medium-rare root for himself, Foxso’l continued, “So, when are we leaving?”
“Where?” Duncan inquired.
“You know, on that expedition.” Foxso’l waved his jack-knife.
Duncan looked at Erina. “We don’t have to go.”
“What do you mean?” Foxso’l seasoned his meat with some spices he had gotten in the marketplace at the Citadel.
“For one thing, we might find some trouble in that city they talked about.”
“So?”
“So, we shouldn’t mess with other people’s affairs.”
“What’s gotten into the soldier-boy?” Foxso’l said, looking at Erina, his mouth full of food. “These guys are good fellows. They are treating us pretty well. They could be good allies of the Realdom, you know.”
“Precisely because they are a good people, they will understand if we just stay right here, out of trouble.”
With a big chunk of litic sticking out of opposite sides of a clenched fist, Foxso’l grabbed one end of the meat with his front teeth. Gaucho-like, he spun the blade of the jack-knife he held in his other hand, slicing off a succulent piece. “Let me tell you somethin’: I wouldn’t stay in this same spot much longer. The entire quadrant is under Establishment surveillance, and we—at least I—don’t want to make it too easy for them to find us. That Citadel,” Foxso’l waved his jackknife towards the castle, “is too close to the crash site, and it’s the first place an enemy patrol would search.”
“What if our people were to find us first?” Duncan replied. “I’m sure they’re looking for us.”
Foxso’l stuffed his mouth with more litic and continued. “I don’t think they could find us unless they—and we—are extremely lucky. Besides, we have short-range comm equipment if they came within range.”
“If it is so difficult for the Realdom to find us, why wouldn’t it be the same for the Establishment?” Duncan asked.
“Are you implying we’re stranded here for good?” asked Erina.
“Not at all.” Foxso’l grinned unconvincingly. “I’m sure somebody will find us pretty soon. But we don’t know who’s gonna find us first. And if we wanna keep outta the Establishment’s prying eyes, the first thing we oughta do is get us outta here.”
“This is not the Angel Spark that you can go hiding from asteroid to asteroid,” Duncan pointed out acidly. “Besides, Erina and I are part of Realitas’ Navy, and we’re supposed to follow certain procedures in situations like this. In a crash event, we should stay as close as possible to the crash site.”
“Have those stripes numbed your wits, son?” Foxso’l waved at Duncan’s new lieutenant insignias. “I’ve told you already: our Establishment friends might find us first, and none of your regulations will help us then.”
“Same regulations that apply to you for this operation.” Duncan paused, realizing the argument was taking him down a confrontational path he did not want to follow. “This crash-landing of ours does not change anything.”
“Sure, and that’s why I’m telling you that we should get outta here—I can make it an order if it fits you better.”
“You don’t have the authority,” Duncan muttered with a smirk.
Foxso’l looked straight at him. “According to your regulations, I was in charge. And our crash-landing doesn’t change anything, as you just said.” He picked up a wildflower and quickly threw it away with frustration. “Why don’t we just sit down for a moment while we finish this gourmet barbecue nobody has thanked me for yet?”
“It was fantastic, Fox’,” added Erina.
“Thank you.” Foxso’l rested a friendly hand on Duncan’s shoulder. “Listen, these people have been very good to us. Sure, they also have ideas about us, but should we be a bunch of spoilers? Let’s go with them on their expedition. Everything will turn out right, you’ll see, and we’ll win them over to our side.”
“I’m sorry, Fox’,” Duncan responded, “but you’ve heard them. They are expecting to engage in battle with the people of that Holy City they mentioned, and if we happen to be with them, we may get involved in something we shouldn’t.”
“Don’t you see? The Holy City, the would-be battle, the expedition itself: they are all part of their dreams, their legends. Let’s give ‘em the chance to live their dreams. They’ve just asked us to accompany them—that’s all they’ve asked from us.”
Duncan stood up, his eyes fixed on the lake. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Give me a couple of days to think it over,” he added, turning around.
“Sure. Say, another juicy piece of meat?”
80.
Today: Optimism.
“How is Heaven?” asked Maliri, as she picked up a flower from one side of the trail.
Duncan smiled: “I don’t know. I’m not from Heaven.”
“But you came down from the sky, in the Star Carousel,” replied his little companion.
“That’s true, but Heaven is far beyond the stars.”
“And beyond the moon?”146
“Yes.”
“And beyond the sun too?”
“Yep.”
The little gureeza kept staring at Duncan in awe. Running ahead, she started walking backwards in front of Duncan. “How can Essray see us all from that far off?”
“Well, I guess He knows everything,” Duncan said.
“Of course He does,” Agashu said. “He’s everywhere.”
For a moment, Maliri pondered the meaning of that, but she quickly came down to a more tangible question. “How far away are the stars?”
“Far, far away,” said Duncan.
“But how far?”
“Very far.”
“Like twice the height of the lake mountains?” Maliri asked.
“Much more than that.”
“But how much?”
“Well, let’s say that the closest star is up in the sky by more than one million, million times the height of the tallest mountain in the world.”
The gureeza did not understand the meaning of million, so she readily accepted the distance to be beyond her grasping.
“The Star Carousel must fly very fast, then,” Agashu concluded.
“It sure does.” And before waiting for the next question, Duncan completed the idea. “It could go from here to the Citadel faster than lightning.”
“Hey!” Maliri yelled. “There is the Star Carousel.”
Beyond the thick foliage, the circular shape of the spacecraft was now visible. Both gureezai ran towards it. Duncan soon caught up with them.
After walking around the vessel checking that everything was unchanged, Duncan activated the opening sequence on a built-in panel in the front of the craft. T
he children watched as the main gate opened, mouths agape.
“You, kids, stay here.” Duncan stepped into the vessel. He was there to pick up a few small instruments that might turn out to be helpful if they had to stay on the planet for a while. An emergency short-range communicator and a distress signal emitter would be particularly useful in case they picked up some friendly vessel traveling near the system.
He soon located the distress-signal device, which was in seemingly good working condition. But finding the emergency communicator was not as easy. Duncan searched all over the vessel, especially around the area where Foxso’l had been making repairs. While he was doing that, he checked a spare-parts compartment.
There he found a box filled with weapons that looked like hand grenades. He wavered for a moment, but finally grabbed the box. In doing that, an instrument fell from the bottom of the compartment: it was the emergency communicator. Duncan picked it up and turned back to the box. Hesitantly, he took a few grenades from inside and put them in a backpack he had grabbed from under his seat. He tried to turn on the emergency communicator, but it seemed to have some malfunction.
As he struggled to get it to work, Duncan caught a glimpse of the two gureezai, beyond the open hatchway, staring enthralled at what they could see of the ship’s cabin.
“Okay, pop on in. But don’t touch anything.”
Agashu leapt inside first, and then helped his sister to come onboard. At first, they kept staring at everything at a prudent distance, but after a few minutes, the temptation to start fiddling with the instruments became too strong to resist. Duncan decided that it was time to return to the Citadel, where he could take a better look at the communicator.
“All right, time to go back home.”
“Are we coming back tomorrow?” asked Maliri.
“Maybe.”
“Please?” the children begged.
Duncan smiled and jumped off the vessel. “We gotta go home.”
“Can we help you carry those gizmos?” asked Agashu, looking at the equipment that stuck out of Duncan’s backpack.
“I can handle them, thank you.”
“But they look very heavy,” the gureez pointed out.
“That’s why you can’t carry them. They’re too heavy for you.”
After walking through the woods on rather flat terrain, they began to climb a hill. At the top, the Citadel appeared ahead, behind another elevation they still had to contend with.
“There’s the Citadel!” Maliri yelled, and the two gureezai started running downhill.
“Hey! Kids—gureezai—come back here, right now.”
They both stopped and turned around. “But we can run down the hill and wait for you in the glen,” Maliri explained.
“No, no, no. You stay beside me; that was the agreement with your mom, remember?”
They waited, with the predictable protesting grimaces.
As soon as they started down the slope together, a warm thin fog began sweeping above their heads.
“Can we go with you on the Big Expedition?” asked Maliri.
“I think you are still too young for that.”
“We’re not,” replied Agashu. “Last summer we climbed the big mountain of the lake—and we did it alone.”
“Yes, but going on this expedition is much, much harder than climbing any mountain—and far more dangerous.”
“But we want to go with you,” Maliri said. “We want to fight alongside the Ashuraii.”
Duncan smiled. “And who are the Ashuraii?”
“You are the Ashuraii.”
“Do you mean . . . me?” asked Duncan.
“Yes, and the others who came in the Star Carousel.”
“I see.”
“So, will you let us go with you?” insisted Maliri. “I know how to cook very well. I could cook for you—and Agashu: he can fight.”
“Yeah,” added the gureez, with an aggressive look that inspired no fear.
“So you can,” said Duncan with a forced frown and a brief smile. Maliri was staring at him with wonder. Looking at those eyes, Duncan decided not to foster false expectations. “You two are very good gureezai, and d’you know something? The three passengers of the Star Carousel will stay in the Citadel, guarding and helping you all the time, while the rest go on the Big Expedition.”
“Why?” asked Maliri, indignant. “You are an Ashury, you ought to go.”
“Well, maybe we’re not the Ashuraii you are waiting for. They will surely come after us.”
“No,” said Agashu, “because the seven-day sign in the sky has already come and gone. And you are the only ones who came in the Star Carousel. So, you are the Ashuraii.”
Duncan began to find the stubborn children’s logic a bit troublesome.
“Yes, and you are the ones who will save us all, so you must go,” Maliri added in a firm tone.
“So we will save you all,” said Duncan rather casually. Even if he did not take it too seriously, the comment did cause him déjà vu.
“Didn’t the angels of the stars tell you that you were to save the entire world?” Agashu asked.
Duncan smiled with a shake of his head. “Oh, yes, this, they did tell me . . .”
“You see, you see? You are an Ashury.”
Duncan chortled.
“Don’t you believe in the words of the angels?” Maliri asked, with a look of concern in her eyes.
“Of course I do. I do believe in them.”
“So if they’ve told you that you are an Ashury, why aren’t you going on the Big Expedition?”
“I believe in the angels of the sky, but you don’t have to believe I’m an Ashury,” Duncan replied.
“But I do. The Prophecy says so. . .” Suddenly, Maliri widened her eyes with a gaze of terrible suspicion. “Don’t you believe in the Prophecy?” she asked, almost in a whisper.
The conversation was taking too many undesirable twists, and Duncan was now wondering how he could have let it go that far. “The Prophecy is a very serious matter, Maliri. Like you, I do believe in the Ashuraii who will save you all. And I believe they are strong, wise people who are coming from beyond the stars. They will surely fight bravely, and—”
“But you’ve just said the angels of the stars already told you that you were to save the world,” interrupted Maliri, pointing at him.
“True, but it could have been a dream. Don’t you ever dream?”
“Yeah,” Maliri grumbled, and walked away noticeably disappointed.
Duncan’s effort to avoid giving the gureezai false expectations had caused many unintended side effects. In particular, Agashu resented the “dream” comment, and both gureezai were clearly disillusioned, and even angry, with the reluctant “Ashury.”
“Hmm, this fog is getting very thick. I’d better check my compass.” Once more, Duncan tried to change the subject, at least, with the remaining child.
“What’s a compass?” asked Agashu.
“It’s a magic box that tells you where to find the direction to the Citadel.”
“We don’t need a compass for that,” the gureez replied. “We already know the Citadel is right beyond the hill.”
“With all this fog, we can’t be sure of anything,” Duncan commented.
“Yes, we can,” Agashu said. “We have seen the Citadel beyond this hill once. It was there, and that was not a dream. No doubt it’s still there, waiting for us, right on the other side.”
The gureez broke off running ahead and met with his sister. They briefly looked back at Duncan, disapprovingly, but this time he did not call them back.
Duncan was left alone, pondering. That last remark from a little gureez had struck some slumbering nerve within himself. True, he had many doubts, but it was also true that right before leaving Earth on the day he had accepted his mission—even if for an instant—he had seen his future so clearly. Had he not had, at that crucial moment, a special insight into his destiny, his life, his vocation?
What if now he wer
e to say “yes” to all that again? What if he would dare move forward and put away—once and for all—the fog of his fickleness, the darkness of his fears?
“Not at all easy . . .” Duncan thought. Yet his tension had been replaced by a dawning peace. For, while he pondered, his personal doubts had weakened and dissipated.
81.
Today: Be helpful.
“Company, halt.” Riding on his annay, General Xanada detached from the formation and stopped in front of the Ashuraii. “Aytana’s dwelling is within those woods. You must follow the trail that starts beyond that rock.” Xanada pointed towards the forest with his sword. “I will detail three warriors to escort you to her place.”
“Thanks, General,” Foxso’l said, as Duncan saluted.
Three Zureedaii stepped forward. “My name is Captain Ziku,” one said, “and these are Sergeant Maru and Private Tully.”
“Captain Foxso’l, Ensign Erina,” Duncan introduced his friends.
“Nice to see you again, Tully,” said Erina to the soldier, recognizing him as the same that had escorted them to the Citadel the day they had first made contact with the Zureeday people.
“I’m honored, ma’am.”
“Are you ready?” asked Ziku.
“Yes, Captain,” Duncan said.
As three troopers held the reins of their annays, the three Realitians dismounted, and followed Ziku’s detail into the woods. It was a lush forest, but passable. Very tall trees, similar to conifers, rose over five hundred feet high. The locals called them zungais. Their leaves were bright blue, like their stems and branches, and their trunks displayed long bright yellow crevices. Their golden beauty had a strong connection to the chrysossetherion147 present in the atmosphere.
The forest sounded full of life, although it was hard to spot any particular creature. Captain Ziku and Sergeant Maru were walking ahead, followed by Foxso’l, Erina, Duncan, and Private Tully. The narrow trail kept the group in a single row.
“Why does this Aytana live here?” asked Duncan, turning around. “I mean, away from the Citadel.”
“She’s not of our people,” answered Tully. “She is the last of the Ancient Ones.”
“Ancient Ones?”
Tully nodded. “The Old Sages that ruled the world before Essray made us.”
Reality: The Struggle for Sternessence Page 26
