Time is an Illusion: The Ptolemy Expedition (Carina Book 1)

by Ruairí Cinéad Ducantlin

  “This floor is your living quarters. Down the center corridor are your rooms, your names on the doors. Down the corridor to your right is the entertainment and meal service areas. The third corridor, on the left, is the exercise area.

  Please find your rooms, freshen up, and we can meet back here in about an hour. An hour on K’an is about seventy-three Earth minutes. The lavatory facilities are self-explanatory but if you run into difficulty, simply ask, out loud, for what you want. The rooms have been coded to recognize English. Any questions? Yes, Miss. Brady.”

  “How did you know our names?”

  “Tarunik spoke with Mister Johnson. Tarunik and Corb ensured the preparations were confirmed for your arrival. We are excited you have arrived and we are happy to aid and assist.”

  Looking around, the crew were surprised to see Tarunik was not with the assembly.

  “Tarunik?”

  “Yes, Miss. Brady. Tarunik. Do you know who Tarunik is?”

  Looking from face to face, Gardini realized, the crew was confused.

  “Tarunik is the leader of the Ch’en.”

  “He is the leader of all Ch’en? The whole planet?”

  “Yes, Miss. Brady, Tarunik is the leader of K’an, and therefore, is the leader of the Ch’en people.”

  The shocked silence was overwhelming. Gardini waited, collecting his thoughts, then spoke to ease the crew’s discomfort.

  “Tarunik is personally guiding Mister Johnson. The Ch’en people have a prophecy of a human becoming one with the Ch’en. It has been foretold the Enlightened One would return. Like religious tales from earth, for almost a thousand years, only the truest Ch’en believers thought the prophecies had merit. Mister Johnson… Well, they believe Mister Johnson is the return of Enlightened One.”

  Mouths agape, eyebrows raised, the crew were staring at Corb. Finally, NT broke the stunned silence.

  “Yo. Corb. Buddy. Don’t you think this is information we might have found useful before now?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  What is new, is new again

  “True genius resides in the capacity for evaluation of uncertain, hazardous, and conflicting information.” – Winston Churchill

  Without answering, Corb smiled, took Michelle’s hand, and walked toward the center corridor and the crew’s accommodations.

  Large and spacious, the room assigned to Corb and Michelle was comfortable and clean and void of any decoration. Clothes, two-piece jumpsuits, were laid out for everyone. Corb quickly showered, forcing Michelle to wait. The shower stall was barely large enough for Corb. Corb pushed aside the jumpsuit and put on clothes from his satchel. Before Michelle finished her shower, Corb was asleep on the bed.

  Reasoning the de-brief might take several hours, Michelle, decided to nap also.

  “Room?”

  “Yes, Miss. Wilbon?”

  “Are you capable of waking me in an hour?”

  “Yes, Miss. Wilbon.”

  “Good, wake us both in an hour.”

  Surprising Michelle, the lights dimmed without instruction. Michelle laid down next to Corb and was asleep immediately.

  When the lights came up, slowly, and Michelle became aware, Corb was no longer lying on the bed. Looking around, Michelle, found Corb staring out, through a window.

  A window Michelle was positive was not there before she laid down to nap.

  “Was that window behind a wall?”

  “No, I asked to the room to provide a view of the K’an countryside. This wall is a projection surface. It looks like a window because I asked for a view out of a window.”

  “Wow, that’s cool.”

  “Yes, there are many cool things about K’an. The buildings are augmenting the gravity for us. Natural gravity on K’an is about eighty percent of Earth’s. Shall we washup and go to dinner? Everyone is waiting on us.”

  “I am sure everyone is waiting on the Enlightened One.”

  Michelle’s ribbing was not appreciated by Corb.

  “Michelle, please, I am not comfortable with the new title or the expectations of the Ch’en people. I am Corb.”

  “No Corb, you are something more. You have been given something amazing and powerful. Whatever forces conspired for you to become this new person, God’s will or otherwise, you must accept destiny. You have become more than Corb Levi Johnson, the smart, good looking, hick from dusty West Texas. At least to these people, you are more. To me, you are still the hick who almost drove off the road because he couldn’t stop staring at my legs.”

  Michelle hugged Corb from behind, pressing her warm, sleepy, cheek into Corb’s back.

  “You are right. I know it, but it is hard for me to accept.”

  “I understand, I do. Now let’s get going before people get worried.”

  Walking away, Michelle came back from the bathroom. Michelle had picked up her toothbrush, handed Corb his toothbrush, smiled and stood staring at Corb while she brushed her teeth.

  The meaning of Michelle making a fuss about brushing their teeth eventually dawned on Corb. The Ch’en people may revere Corb as The Enlightened One. To Michelle, Corb is a normal guy. To Michelle, Corb is her boyfriend.

  Exiting their room, Corb and Michelle found the lobby area completely empty. Corb nodded to the stairs. Corb and Michelle went down the stairs, abreast, arriving in the great hall together.

  Several tables had been arranged to accommodate seating of six to eight people. Off to the side, a long table was overflowing with Earth style food.

  The K’an humans were sitting at various tables, forcing the crew of the Jeanette to disperse among the humans. Everyone looked up from their meals, at Corb and Michelle, nodded or smiled, and went back to their respective conversations.

  It was obvious to Corb and Michelle, while everyone gave the appearance of chatty and pleasant, there was a nervousness in the room. The only remaining seats were at the table furthest from the stairs. After collecting plates of food, Corb and Michelle made their way to their seats.

  At the designated table sat, Vivian, Doctor Wolmarans, Gio, Lucinda, a female human, and a K’an woman. Polite greetings all around. Corb noted, the K’an woman had not spoken. Corb and Michelle taking their seats quietly permitted the table’s conversation to continue.

  “You are telling me… You are what, two-hundred and twenty-seven years old?”

  “Yes, Miss. Raitt, I have been here since I was twenty-seven years old.”

  “Sorry, Corb, Michelle, this is Miss. Colton. Elsapeth Colton. Did I pronounce it correctly?”

  “Yes, Miss. Raitt, you are correct, Elsapeth. But, please call me Peth, everyone does.”

  “Thank you, Peth, please call me Lucinda.”

  Vivian and Doctor Wolmarans were content to let the conversation continue. They knew, eventually, the conversation would pause, allowing them to speak.

  “Did I hear you correctly, Miss. Colton you are over two-hundred years old?”

  “Yes, Miss. Wilbon, I was brought here when I was twenty-seven years old. My family was from Lincolnshire, on the east coast of England.”

  “Forgive me for joining late, how did you come here, to K’an?”

  “Miss. Wilbon, the Ch’en have been visiting Earth for more than a thousand years. Lincolnshire was experiencing the worst winter in memory. The whole community was unprepared. The priests left. Anyone with money left for the bigger towns. People starved or froze to death. My whole family died. My husband gave up everything for me, and for our daughter, Afra. We ate the horses. When they were gone… well… When my husband died, there was nothing left. I went to the top of the mound. The old-timers used to say the mound had special powers. I figured, if the mound was special, then it was a good place to die. I took baby Afra up to the mound, covered us in blankets. We waited. Eventually, I fell asleep. When I awoke, I was on a table, not far from here. Afra was next to me. Tunellish was watching over us. We have been here ever since. Afra only knows this place as home.”

  “I am sorry
to interrupt again, who is Tunellish?”

  “I am Tunellish, Miss. Wilbon.”

  Everyone at the table, in their mind, heard the K’an female respond to Michelle’s question.

  “You saved Mrs. Colton and her baby, two-hundred years ago?”

  “Yes, and no. One of my colleagues… Yes, colleague is the correct word. One of my colleagues sensed their presence while we were taking observations. Under the mound in Lincolnshire is a portal. You refer to the portals as chambers. My colleague would not allow an innocent baby to die. My colleague brought Peth and Afra to the chamber and from the chamber to K’an.”

  “Chambers? Like the portals under the Mayan temples?”

  “Yes, Miss. Brady, a portal near where we found Peth and Afra.”

  Have you been back, to Earth, Mrs. Colton?”

  “Please, call me Peth. May I call you Michelle?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Michelle, we have been back to Earth. Several times. We try to understand how Earth is progressing. But, K’an is our home. We live well here. There is harmony and wellness here. Afra married a kind man, him, there, with the beard. His name is Marnar. He too was brought to K’an as an infant.”

  “Peth, may I ask a question?”

  “Yes, of course, Lucinda.”

  “How is it we can hear your voice in our head? How is it we can hear each other without audible tones?”

  Tunellish responded for Peth.

  “We all possess something humans call the Pineal Gland. It is in our brains. Humans, Ch’en, and several other species have the gland. Humans refer to the Pineal Gland as the ‘Third Eye’. People, humans, used the gland for telepathic communication before they developed the spoken language. We hear the words because our minds translate for us. We are transmitting, and receiving, waves of emotions which our minds turn into language.”

  “We have no proof the Pineal Gland does anything at all.”

  Wolmarans had interrupted Tunellish, spoke out loud, in his acerbic manner, and stopped the pleasant conversation, cold.

  “Doctor Wolmarans, you are incredibly rude.”

  “No, Miss. Raitt, I was stating the facts. Neither Vivian nor I can communicate telepathically. We can hear you, and them, but we are unable to communicate without speaking audibly.”

  Apparently unphased, Tunellish, continued.

  “Mister Wolmarans and Mrs. Treacher have had their ability to communicate, telepathically, suppressed. Their thoughts are not harmonious with the community.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  What a long strange trip

  “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” – Tennessee Williams

  “Enforced exile. Treated as a second-class citizen. Corb, this is all your fault.”

  “No, Vivian, this is not my fault. This is not exile nor are you, or Doctor Wolmarans, second-class citizens. We gave you many opportunities to become part of the group, but you were unable to see beyond your pain.

  I am sorry we could not help you. Vivian, only you can take away the pain.”

  “Pain? What the hell are you talking about? Pain? The only pain I have is knowing I will never go home. Pain? What is wrong with you boy?”

  “Vivian, please. Our hosts do not appreciate your tone. It is not harmonious.”

  “Screw them Baruti. And, screw you, Corb. Corb, you took what is mine. I will never forgive you.”

  As Vivian sentence ended, she teleported away. The chair she was sitting in did not move, the napkin on her lap fluttered to the floor. Lucinda, Michelle, and Corb looked at each other but did not speak.

  “Mrs. Treacher has been placed in her accommodations. She will receive guidance.

  “Thank you, Tunellish. We apologize for the outburst. It is not our way and we regret Mrs. Treacher has brought disharmony to K’an.”

  “Thank you Enlightened One. Truly, the prophecies are sincere. You know our ways and seek harmony in all things.”

  “Please, Tunellish, call me Corb.”

  “No, Enlightened One. I am not able to do that. To refer to you by your given name is to insult you.”

  Corb smiled and waited. Gio caught Corb’s eye and nodded, slightly, toward Doctor Wolmarans.

  “Yes, Gio, I will address several topics in a moment. First, may I ask you a question?”

  “Please. There is no better time than a good meal with good conversation.”

  “If Mrs. Colton is over two-hundred years old. Using Earth years, I suspect you are older. May I ask, sir, how long you have been living with the Ch’en?”

  “Mister Johnson…”

  “Please, call me Corb.”

  “Corb, I came to K’an, in the year of our Lord 1504.”

  “You were in the Palazzo Vecchio, at the unveiling?”

  “Very good Mister Johnson. Very good. I am not surprised you know these facts about me.”

  “Would someone care to explain?”

  “Lucinda, Gio was a contemporary to Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni. Yes, Michelangelo.”

  “Oh. OH!”

  “Yes, Lucinda, oh. Gio, the chamber you used to come here, it exists no longer?”

  “Correct, the Earth shook, after I left, and crushed the portal.”

  “How did you know the portal existed? How did you know to use the portal?”

  Before he responded, Gio’s face became somber and soft. He spoke in low, soft, tones of someone recounting a long-forgotten pain.

  “The statute is perfect. Signore Simoni had created perfection. David is alive. I knew I could never equal such grace and elegance. My ambition died at the unveiling. I was going to become a celebrated painter and sculptor.

  I did not know about the portal. I did not know there was another world. I only knew about the place where one could go and … and leave life.

  Florence is a beautiful place. Florence is surrounded by much beauty. Not far from the city is a cavern. A cavern from which warm air always rises. Or, did before the Earth shook and the cavern collapsed. The warm air was said to embrace those with nothing left and it would ease their departure.

  It was said, if you leapt into the cavern, the warm air would take you to another place. I wanted another place. I desired to be anywhere but where I was at that time. God had shown me, through David, I was not worthy.

  The moment I leapt, I wanted to go back. But… But, it was too late.

  I closed my eyes and waited for the end. I landed on the portal floor, here, on K’an. The same portal you have been using Mister Johnson. The first words I heard, when I landed, was: You are welcome here, we know you have much beauty to offer.

  I have been here, for over five-hundred years. I am the last of the very old ones. Humans. Old humans. Even here, in this Heaven, there is an end. My end is near, but it is of no matter. I have created many celebrated things. Never… Never, have I created an equal to Signore Simoni’s David.”

  The somber tone enveloped the table. Everyone waited for someone to speak. Michelle, broke the silence.

  “Corb, how did you know about Gio’s age and history?”

  “I heard it in his voice and I felt it in his being.”

  “Truly, he is the Enlightened One.”

  “Tunellish, thank you for the kind words. Please understand, the title is highly honorific but is not something we, the new visitors, are comfortable with being applied to another human.

  If you will not call me Corb, please call me Mister Johnson. Mister is a respected reference for human adult males.”

  “As you wish, Mister Johnson. Please know, many Ch’en will be unable to speak to you without the appropriate title.”

  “I understand, thank you, Tunellish.”

  “Now the chit-chat is over, let’s discuss the important topics.”

  “Doctor Wolmarans, I am sure the Ch’en leaders, and guides, have informed you about the evaluation criteria. You have not met the requisite milestones and are not allowed to return to earth.

  Mr
s. Treacher, Vivian is unlikely to ever return to earth.”

  Corb paused, and held up his hand, indicating everyone should wait.

  Vivian reappeared, standing behind her chair. Corb wave to the chair, indicating Vivian should sit. After Vivian sat, Corb continued.

  “Doctor Wolmarans, Mrs. Treacher, the parameters are few and they are concise. You must exhibit the ability to control your emotions, thoughts, and ensure harmony with your thoughts and deeds.

  Also, you must understand, returning to earth, with the knowledge of K’an, and the Ch’en people, is rarely granted. Not impossible, there have been others who returned to earth, but it is rarely granted.

  Outbursts, like the one earlier, and the rude interruptions will continue to factor into your assessments.

  Look around, everyone is jovial, happy, content, and eager to share information.

  You have not met the parameters. In fact, you have not begun to seriously consider changing your understanding.

  Until the Ch’en advisers confirm to me you have met the criteria, you will not be allowed to return to earth.”

  Doctor Wolmarans was furious but before he could spew verbal venom, he teleported away.

  “Welcome back Mrs. Treacher. Thank you for accepting our invitation.”

  “Thank you, Tunellish. I realize there is more to learn.”

  Lucinda and Michelle looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

  “I am going to get a coffee; may I bring anyone anything? Lucinda? Michelle?”

  “No Corb, thank you.”

  “No, honey, but thank you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Humans are genuine and friendly

  “True friendship never questions what it costs you.” ― Stephen Richards

  The buffet dinner continued for several hours. The humans moved between tables, starting new conversations, and genuinely engaging with the crew of the Jeanette. The humans living on K’an wanted to know everything they could think of, and more, about earth. The crew of the Jeanette did not feel as if the humans were longing for earth. The questions, from the K’an humans, felt like requests for information. The humans, living on K’an, where merely curious about earth.