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<pre>

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Title: The Revolutions of Time

Author: Jonathan Dunn

Release Date: August, 2005 [EBook #8735]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on August 6, 2003]

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE REVOLUTIONS OF TIME ***




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</pre>

<center>
<h2>THE REVOLUTIONS OF TIME</h2>

<br>
<br>


<h3>By Jonathan Dunn</h3>
</center>

<br>
<br>
<hr>
<br>
<br>


<p style="text-align: center">Note to the reader:</p>

<p>The manuscript for this book was found in a weather-beaten
stone box on an island in the Pacific Ocean. Its contents were
written in an ancient form of Latin, which was translated and
edited by Jonathan Dunn.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<p style="text-align: center">Dedicated to Bernibus,</p>

<p style="text-align: center"><em>amicus certus in re incerta
cernitur.</em></p>

<p><strong>Table of Contents:</strong></p>

<p>Chapter 1: Past and Present</p>

<p>Chapter 2: Predestined Deja Vu</p>

<p>Chapter 3: Zards and Canitaurs</p>

<p>Chapter 4: Onan, Lord of the Past</p>

<p>Chapter 5: The Treeway</p>

<p>Chapter 6: The Fiery Lake</p>

<p>Chapter 7: Down to Nunami</p>

<p>Chapter 8: The Temple of Time</p>

<p>Chapter 9: Mutually Assured Deception</p>

<p>Chapter 10: Devolution</p>

<p>Chapter 11: The Land Across the Sea</p>

<p>Chapter 12: The White Eagle</p>

<p>Chapter 13: The Big Bang</p>

<p>Chapter 14: Past and Future</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<p>...The very men who claimed mental superiority because they
were free from superstitions and divine disillusionment were
themselves victims of their own sophism, and while they thought
themselves crowned with enlightenment, it was naught but the
Phrygian caps of their prejudices toward the material state.</p>

<p style="text-align: center"><em>- Jehu, the Kinsman
Redeemer</em></p>

<p>The physical manifestation of the spiritual force is not the
spiritual force at all, only a bland deception. If you only focus
on what you can see directly, than you chase after only the
representation and not the object desired. If a bird is flying
through the sky at noontime, casting a shadow on the ground below
him, and a man comes along, and in the hope of catching the bird
chases after its shadow, it is evident that he will never catch
it, for when he does reach it, he will find that there is nothing
there at all, only the shadow of what it was he desired. So it is
with the spiritual!</p>

<p style="text-align: center"><em>- Onan, Lord of the
Past</em></p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 1: Past and Present</h3>

<p>My name is Jehu. Most probably it sounds foreign and
unfamiliar to you, devoid of the qualities of affection and
personality which give character to a name. It is a harsh name,
cold and inhuman, like something out of the night, an unwelcome
intruder into the warmth of familiarity. It inspires no blissful
memories, nor does it kindle fond feelings in the bosom of the
hearer, instead the heart is hardened to it like the feathers of
a duck to water, repulsing it, leaving it to run off into the
ditches and by-ways of the long forgotten past, to trickle
dejectedly into those stagnant ponds where so many words of
wisdom are imprisoned: out of sight, out of mind, out of heart,
out of history. Yet while history is forgotten and misconstrued,
it is repeated, for what is life without water, which nourishes
and sustains it, and what is life without wisdom, which protects
and cultivates it?</p>

<p>Jehu is my name, though it no longer brings the quickened
pulse and keen anticipation of happiness to the hearts of any,
not even my own. For what deference can be given to a name,
though not in itself a thing of dishonor, which represents the
failure to derail the evitable fate which wrecks the race of man
again and again. Not that I myself embody such a failure, nor
even that I gave birth to the dreaded fate&rsquo;s latest
momentum, but as is seen time and again throughout history, one
name is brought to represent the tide of change, for better or
worse, the doer of deeds which were done not by him, but by a
mass of independent doers, yet it is written in the annals of
history as the deeds of but one man.</p>

<p>While I had little to do, consciously, with the doom of the
earth, I will always be fingered as the villain, as the ambitious
Napoleon or the barbaric Atilla, the arrogant Augustus or the
fearful Cyrus. Someone has to bear the burden of shame on the
pages of history for the people of his time, and in that sense,
maybe I truly can be called their kinsman redeemer. Perhaps it is
my fate to bear witness to the wrongs of a people, of which even
you are not wholly innocent.</p>

<p>And yet can an individual be blamed for the faults of a
society, can personal responsibility be extended to the members
of an unknown multitude? How the enjoined conscience of one longs
to say no, but in good faith it cannot be said, for in this case
the mask of ignorance cannot supersede the face of guilt. Indeed,
ignorance in this case only adds to the shame of the guilty, this
being a crime not of misdeeds but of negligence, twisted together
with the vices of humanity into a thick and sturdy cord, a rope
that cannot be pulled apart and individually examined, yet must
be taken as a whole. Insularly, the strand of ignorance could be
easily snapped, remedied by but a little education, yet when
woven together by one&rsquo;s own hands with prides and
prejudices, it forms an unbreakable rope, which is placed about
our neck to hang us: through means of our own doing is our fate
foretold. If but one or two of the strands were omitted, the
result would be a feeble rope, easily broken, and we would live.
But by our own vices is our mortality made manifest, by our own
wrongs are we wronged.</p>

<p>By now you may be beginning to feel the impulses of
indignation arising in your breast, for who am I, the admittedly
despicable Jehu, to group you as my fellow convicts, my
co-conspirators, in a sense? And you are right, for I am not your
judge and neither do I wish to be.</p>

<p>Having said that, I now request of you to put down the book
and discontinue reading.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Surely,&rdquo; you say to yourself, &ldquo;He is
mentally deranged, for what author in his right mind would
encourage his readers to disperse, what writer does not thrive on
the digestion of his words by an eager audience?&rdquo;</p>

<p>Here I must make a revelation to you: if my manuscript has
indeed been found, then I have long since been dead; and I assure
you that in whatever form my existence takes in the present, I
have little desire for your intrigue or goodwill. Do you think
Melville is consoled in death of his miserable life by the
vainglorious praises of the living? Or do you think that Poe is
comforted by such avid attentions in his present abode? In truth,
Melville&rsquo;s only rivalry is now within, and Poe&rsquo;s only
raven that daunting memory of those truths which had escaped him
in life, but which now are opened to you.</p>

<p>More importantly, if this manuscript has been found, it proves
that what is contained herein is the unerring truth. I do not
write this to exonerate myself, however let me say here that I am
more the Andre&rsquo; than the Arnold, for I was but the emissary
of history, not the traitor to humanity, and if not me then some
other would have filled the void. Let it be remembered that it
was Andre&rsquo; who gave his life for his deeds, and yet it is
Andre&rsquo; who is recollected with a sweet sorrow, and though
Arnold lived, he had no peace. Yet while history is vivid and
encyclopedic, in itself a living organism, it can speak only
through the mouths of men, who often misrepresent it for their
own partisan and prejudiced plans. It is strong and steadfast,
though, and in time is always victorious over its menial
opposition, for what is history but the past tense of truth, and
it is justly said that <em>veritas numquam perit</em>, truth
never dies.</p>

<p>Going back to what I said before, namely that at my
manuscript&rsquo;s discovery my demise will itself be history: I
am assured that such is true, for even now as I write this my
death is near at hand. How wide the abyss of time that separates
us is I cannot tell, but I do know that it is beyond the
reckoning of men, such an unknown barrage of hollow, formless
years. Yet as you read this it is as if I were speaking directly
to you, despite all of the desolation between our times. That is
what makes history an organic being, and by history I mean all of
the past, or all of the future, depending on your viewpoint.</p>

<p>A book is a connection between times and peoples, more so than
any other medium. As I put these words down in writing, it is as
if I am imparting my very self into the pages. And as you read
them, the name Jehu slowly forms into an image, into a
personality, and from the empty word Jehu comes the great well of
affection springing from a personal intimacy. A book is an enigma
in which no time exists, and as it is read it brings the reader
into its eternal being, for while it sits closed on a shelf it is
no more than a forgotten memory, yet when it is opened its
contents come to life and its characters and locations are once
more existent in the same state as when they were written, the
story becomes once more reality.</p>

<p>While I have long been deceased, when you read this I am
brought to life once more, and with my rebirth I tell you my
story, and make known to you the truths contained therein. The
words of this book are a rune gate, a portal to the past, and as
you read them, your present fades away and you are drawn into my
present, this very moment in which I now write. Then you connect
with me intimately, and for a brief time the gulf of mortality is
transcended and the depths of my being are laid open to you. We
commune together and you eat of my flesh and drink of my blood,
merging your existence with mine.</p>

<p>Come to me now, my friend, come to me across the gulf of
mortality, for I await you. Come, and in your spiritual
peregrination meet with me, in this land of the past which is so
foreign and unfamiliar to you, but which will become for a time
your home. Come to me, my friend, and let me tell you my
story.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 2: Predestined Deja Vu</h3>

<p>It was in the last stages of sleep that I began to feel the
warm morning sun strike my face, and hear the pleasant chirping
of birds and crickets. I rolled slowly over, stretched my legs
and my back, and stood up, with the last remnants of a dream
playing quietly in my mind. But as I came to my feet and got a
clear view of where I was, I realized it was not a dream that I
had had at all, but something far more sobering. I found myself
somewhere in the center of a very large prairie which covered the
land for many miles around. From the sun&rsquo;s lowly position
on the eastern horizon, it was evident to me that the new day was
just dawning, casting a golden hue on the grasses that covered
the prairie&rsquo;s surface.</p>

<p>Around the distant outskirts of the plain I could make out a
ring of trees circumventing the whole, waving almost
imperceptibly to and fro in the light breeze that was blowing. A
few miles to the southwest there was a group of odd looking trees
stretching up over the horizon to a considerable height. They
were closer than the outer ring, which kept a uniform girth
around the prairie, but somehow they looked very peculiar and
foreboding, and I got one of those sobering feelings which I like
to call predestined deja vu. What I mean is that I got a sense of
deja vu, but instead of the past converging with the present into
one thought, the present seemed to converge with the future, and
the result was a mysterious foreboding of something, though I
couldn&rsquo;t tell what. That is the sensation that I had when I
saw what I assumed to be a small grouping of trees somewhere in
the southwestern portion of the savanna, though that was merely a
guess, for in the distance I could only make out several dark
forms rising out of the grassland like trees, or possibly
buildings, one of them being a great deal taller than the others,
with a spherical shape on top that only faintly resembled a
tree&rsquo;s crown. If it was indeed a tree, it was the largest
that I have ever seen, for it looked to be upwards of 800 feet
tall.</p>

<p>My mental warning bells were ringing quite loudly, and I
endeavored to silence them by extreme exertions of the will, but
they would not be subdued. I assumed that they were not at all
correct, much like the fearful expectancy some have while
swimming in the ocean, out of sight of all land, of being
attacked by an enormous leviathan of the deep. As unfounded as
the fear is, it places one into a frenzy of dubious thoughts that
inspire equally frantic and anarchist actions. Because of this, I
thought that my ideas were naught but superstitious fancies, yet
try as I might, I could not rid myself of them.</p>

<p>Instead, I made up my mind to set off in the opposite
direction, north, and to advance at a double march until I should
reach the woody border, which looked to present shelter not only
from the southern apparitions, but also from the shielded
underworld of the grasses, in which also dwelt the mysterious
sense of fear and predestined deja vu. It was slightly chilly,
but beyond that nothing defaced the temperate beauty of the day,
and even that promised to soon dissipate with the continual
strengthening of the sun&rsquo;s warmth. As I walked, or rather,
trotted along, it did just that, and in the growing warmth of the
day the sweet fragrances of the many various grasses rose to the
surface, delighting my odor perceiving sensors with their earthy
simplicity.</p>

<p>The day marched on, and with it I, and the distant wall of
trees began to slowly grow closer. At length, I found myself at
their edge, at around the noon hour, and as I came upon the first
of them, I leaned against the trunk of a large, thickset tree for
a moment of repose and reflection in its shade. It was by all
appearances an ancient wood, for the line between it and the
prairie was distinct, appearing as if the shrubs and lesser flora
had acquiesced to fate and retreated beyond the forest&rsquo;s
claimed boundaries, rather than continue for countless ages to
charge and then be pushed back, to gain a foothold only to be
thrown out a year or two later. The trees themselves were mighty
pinions of strength, tall and of great girth, and spread far
apart from one another, leaving wide open spaces between their
towering trunks. A short, soft grass clothed the land that
stretched on in their midst, joined in its solitude by a hearty
looking moss that stretched itself out on the trunks of the trees
and on the rocks and boulders that lay scattered here and there
among the open spaces. Far above, the trees&rsquo; great branches
spread out a thick canopy, covering the whole of the forest area
in a relaxing and invigorating twilight, rendering itself homely
and quaint. After a few moments of enjoying that most pleasing
scene, I roused and extricated myself unwillingly from its
enchanted depths and set off once more into the heart of the
woods, having no where else to go.</p>

<p>After a time, I cannot say how long, I came upon a small,
trickling stream which flowed deeper into the woods, that
direction being northward. A short walk along its path, after
refreshing myself to content with its pure waters, brought me to
its destination: a large lake into which the forest opened. Its
banks were very gradual and the grass of the woodland led right
up to the water&rsquo;s edge. The surface of the water itself was
smooth and delicate.</p>

<p>Amidst the pleasantness of the scene, there was something
missing from the feel of the area: inhabitants. There was an
abundance of wild life of all kinds, and much organic life as
well, but something greater than flora or fauna was missing:
people. I had traveled so far, and without any sighting of a
person. It was a lonely and desolate feeling which prevailed,
despite the abundances of life. Novelties soon grow worthless
with no one to share them with, ideas become meaningless if not
communicated timely, emotions grow boisterous and uncontrollable
with no end to receive them.</p>

<p>I was quite alone, unfortunately, and it dampened my spirits
considerably. Feeling despondent, I turned and walked sullenly
from the lake&rsquo;s edge into the woodland once more, with no
definite purpose in mind, only a meandering thought of my dismal
situation. My thoughts morphed, in succession, from anxiety to
despair, to anger, to frustration, and in my frustration I knelt
down and picked up a fallen branch from the ground, walked to the
nearest tree, and eyed a strange, protruding knob that stuck out
from the trunk. I held the branch at shoulder&rsquo;s length and
swung it at the knob with all the force of my built up emotions.
It hit with a crash and a hollow thud, leaving the branch broken
and my arm sore, but the knob undamaged.</p>

<p>But then something unexpected happened: with a grating noise,
a small hole appeared part way up the trunk, coming from what
looked to be solid wood, for no sign was seen before of its
having an opening. From the newly opened hole was then thrust out
a head, hairy and with a short snout-like edifice for a nose and
mouth. Its eyes and the furry hair which covered its face were
brown, and a few wily whiskers protruded from its snout. With a
look of utter surprise, as if it had not expected me as much as I
had not expected it, it eyed me closely for a moment and then
looked anxiously from side to side and told me to come in.</p>

<p>When those words passed its lips, or whatever artifice it
spoke from, a great weight fell from my shoulders. After a short
moment, quickened by my relief, a door appeared in the trunk of
the tree, its edges previously hidden behind the thick mosses.
Swinging inwards, it opened and revealed the creature standing
there, beckoning me to enter. I did, and the door shut behind me,
leaving me in the darkness of the hollow tree.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 3: Zards and Canitaurs</h3>

<p>My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, and once they did I
saw that the trunk was hollowed out to the extent of eight feet
in diameter, with two stairways, one up and another down, filling
either corner of the small entry room in which I found myself.
Observing that my vision was returned enough to see, the strange
creature which had greeted me led me down the descending
staircase for a short way, until we came into a cavern which was
delved beneath the roots of the tree.</p>

<p>The walls and floor of the cavern, or more accurately, the
sitting room, for such it appeared to be, were paneled with a
thick, heavy wood with an almost artificially symmetric grain,
and the ceiling was done in diagonal boards of the same. Sitting
in the center of the room was a brick-laid pit in which burned an
illuminating fire, and around it was placed an odd covering frame
that caught up the smoke and channeled it via underground
passages to some distant wilderness, where its sightless remnants
would dissipate into the atmosphere unnoticed. On the near side
of the fire was a round table flanked by four large, comfortable
chairs, padded by cushions made from the same material as the
various carpets and tapestries around the room.</p>

<p>There were two more of the strange creatures seated at the
table, called Canitaurs as I later found out, and as they are
closely entwined with my story, being prominent participants, I
will describe them in some detail here. They stood erect like a
man, yet were quite contrasted in appearance. Their skin for one
was covered in a thick, impenetrable coat of hair, much like a
dog or a bear&rsquo;s. Their hands, also, were less distinct in
the fingers, though but slightly, and their limbs were a little
longer and thicker than a man&rsquo;s. The two most notable
differences, however, were the formation of their shoulders and
chest, which were very pronounced and muscular, and their faces.
The latter&rsquo;s features were brought to a point in the short
snout, or muzzle, that formed their nose and mouth, taking their
chins with it and leaving a long line from their neck to their
chest open. Humanity prevailed in the rest of their features,
though, giving them the look of a man and canine hybrid.</p>

<p>By then I had overcome my initial perplexion at the sight of
the Canitaurs, and I endeavored to put a strong check over my
emotions in order to prevent another outbreak of panic and to
remain cool and candid, come what would. Yet it was, ironically,
the product of my rashness that I had found their habitation at
all. This I successfully did, and as I entered the room, led by
the Canitaur who was on watch, the others stood politely and
greeted me with an apparent intrigue.</p>

<p>Our conversation proceeded at follows:</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am Wagner of the Canitaurs, my friend,&rdquo; said
the one who appeared to be the leader, &ldquo;And these are
Taurus and Bernibus,&rdquo; the latter being the one who had led
me down. &ldquo;Welcome to Daem.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am Jehu,&rdquo; I told them, &ldquo;It is a pleasure
to meet you.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Indeed, and under such circumstances as well. Tell me,
how did you come to be here?&rdquo;</p>

<p>Here I smiled nervously, and replied, &ldquo;I am a traveler
from a distant land, and came here by the advice of a
friend.&rdquo;</p>

<p>At this somewhat false answer, more in character than in
content, Wagner looked at me wonderingly, as if detecting my
falsehood, but did not follow his look with any probing
questions, to my great relief. In order to steer the conversation
away from this point, I added quickly, &ldquo;I am not at all
disappointed, either, for the landscape is beautiful and the
trees and foliage are wondrously large, but I was surprised to
find that, from the prairie to the lake, I saw no one living
among these quaint locations.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Wagner looked at me closely, with a hint of almost reverencing
respect and said, &ldquo;You were very fortunate in your travels,
I assure you, for had you arrived at any other time, you would
have fallen into fouler hands than ours by far.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I do not understand what you mean,&rdquo; I said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Of course not, I am forgetting your new arrival has
left you unacquainted with affairs that I am faced with everyday.
Let me explain: we, that is, the Canitaurs, have been in open
hostilities with the other group of people on this island, the
Zards, for as long as we can remember. They have great military
superiority in this section of Daem, and when we come here we are
forced to live in hiding, in outposts such as this
one.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Why not just make peace?&rdquo; I asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Because it is our ideologies that conflict, neither
group of us will yield, and the solution can only be decided by
force, military force. It is fortunate that you have come among
us first, for they would have mistreated you.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;So you have said, though I do not see why I was not
captured by them on my journey through the plains, if they are as
powerful in this quarter as you say,&rdquo; I replied.</p>

<p>&ldquo;As I said, the timing of your arrival was very
fortunate,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;At any other time you would
have surely been caught, and then your fate would have been
uncertain, but yesterday was the Zard&rsquo;s new year, the
Kootch Patah, on which they spend all night in celebrations and
revelries. Because of this, they were all soundly asleep on your
trip through the prairie, very possibly laying at your feet,
covered by the tall grasses.&rdquo;</p>

<p>So my fears were not as unfounded as I had thought, was my
predestined deja vu, then, real as well? Only time would
tell.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am indeed lucky then, as you have said, not only in
the Zard&rsquo;s unattentiveness, but also in finding of your
secreted habitation, as well as your friendly welcoming of
me,&rdquo; I said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I must confess,&rdquo; he chuckled, &ldquo;It is not
merely from a one-sided hospitality that you are
welcomed.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Indeed?&rdquo; I said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;For your appearance
and the circumstances of your arrival are almost uncannily the
realizations of one of our most ancient prophesies, one which we
have longed to have fulfilled.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Is that so?&rdquo; I rhetorically asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Surely it is,&rdquo; he said with a smile, though from
happiness or humor I could not tell. He went on soberly, saying:
&ldquo;The prophecy is concerning the kinsman redeemer, one of
the ancients sent by Onan, the Lord of the Past, to redeem us
from the destruction of this polluted world.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What do you mean by &lsquo;one of the
ancients&rsquo;?&rdquo; I interjected questioningly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Exactly what I said,&rdquo; Wagner replied with a light
hearted smile, &ldquo;Let me explain.&rdquo;</p>

<p>But before he could, we were interrupted by a violent
scratching and pounding at the door, along with some grunting
voices which I could not understand. The Canitaur&rsquo;s ears,
which were quite large, though more erect and postured than
floppy, quickly rose to attention, and they had spent not a
moment listening when they uniformly chorused,
&ldquo;Zards,&rdquo; in a hoarse whisper. My earlier fear, then
mysterious but now understood, returned in full force, and my
face writhed in horror as I ejaculated remorsely, &ldquo;Then we
are lost.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Wagner turned gravely towards me and said, &ldquo;Perhaps, but
there is still hope. Come, follow me,&rdquo; and rising from his
chair he led the way to the furthest corner of the room. A
primitive tapestry was hanging there, and Wagner lifted it up
while Bernibus and Taurus hit two hidden switches, one being on
either extremity of the room, to avoid discovery. That unlocked
the wall behind the tapestry. It opened along lines previously
concealed by the wood&rsquo;s grain and revealed a small
cubbyhole built into the wall, probably meant for its present
use, concealment. Wagner led us into it and no sooner was the
door, or wall, latched again than the Zards, having broken down
the outside door by brute strength, flooded into the room.</p>

<p>We could see them as they did, for the wall that concealed us
had many small holes, and the tapestry as well, so that on the
inside we could see all that happened in the well lit room, while
they could not see us, as there was no light to reveal us.
Indeed, I had been sitting facing the hidden compartment during
our brief dialog and had not detected it at all. The situation
was quite different at that time, though, for the Zards were
actively looking for us, whereas I was merely glancing
occasionally at the wall.</p>

<p>Now that they were closer, I could easily understand their
conversation:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Blast it, they aren&rsquo;t here,&rdquo; said one,</p>

<p>&ldquo;Probably deserted the place after Garlop saw them, he
should have kept watch.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Why? He couldn&rsquo;t have stopped a group of them,
and they&rsquo;re too keen to be followed.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Aye, he did right to hurry off, but it would be a shame
if they escaped,&rdquo; another joined.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The King is here though, and there&rsquo;s no fooling
him.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Hear ye, hear ye,&rdquo; the others assented, that
being a common phrase among them which was the equivalent of an
&lsquo;I agree&rsquo; or &lsquo;Amen&rsquo;.</p>

<p>A larger, more commanding Zard, whom the others looked in
deference to, then came down the stairs, saying as he entered the
room, &ldquo;Let us not celebrate prematurely, gentlemen. There
is nothing of interest above, so we will have to search carefully
down here.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Sir, is it true it was a hairless one he saw?&rdquo;
one asked him.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We are all hairless here,&rdquo; he said, laughing with
the others, &ldquo;But yes, it is reported that Garlop saw one of
the ancients, and with his sharp eyes and knowledge of history,
it is assumed to be true. I need not remind you, then, the need
to find them before they are too far away, it is imperative to
the cause that the ancient is not brought to the hidden fortress
of our adversaries.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The Zards then set to work with great assiduity searching for
any clues of the Canitaur&rsquo;s whereabouts, examining
everything meticulously, yet quickly. They tore the furniture
apart to look for hidden compartments, followed the smoke pipes
through the ground to their outlets, tore off the floor boards to
look for secret passages, and did the same to the ceiling.</p>

<p>Before I continue with my story, let me pause for a moment to
describe to you the appearance of the Zards, for you are probably
curious as to what they look like.</p>

<p>Quite different from the Canitaurs, they were, in fact,
completely hairless, being almost lizard-like. They stood erect,
about the same height as a man, that is, about six feet or a
little over that, and their bodies resembled those of alligators,
with short, thickset legs, stout arms, and a long body with a
tail draping down to the ground, looking like a giant tongue,
though covered, of course, in scales. Their heads were small,
having a little skull on which were the eyes and ears and with a
long snout that, like the Canitaurs&rsquo;, held their noses,
mouths, and chin. Huge, sharp teeth filled their mouths and gave
them an odd, fiercely sophisticated look. Their hands were thick
with long fingers, and though their overall appearance had an air
of awkwardness about it, they set to their tasks with great
dexterity, though if it was natural or the result of their
excited state, I could not tell. Indeed, I began to grow worried
when the Zard who was removing the walls, to check for holes or
tunnels, drew near to us as he methodically pried off the panels
with a metal bar and looked for anything suspicious.</p>

<p>He moved along quickly and was just about to put the bar to
our covering and pull when another Zard, on the other end of the
room, held aloft a piece of paper, calling the attentions of the
others to it. Our almost discoverer went himself to the other
Zard, and we were, for a moment at least, saved from being
exposed. Having read the paper, the taller Zard, the King, said
to the others, &ldquo;Well done, lads. We have here a map to the
Canitaur&rsquo;s hidden fortress. Let us go to Nunami, gather
some troops, and surprise them. Today may prove victorious, so
let us hurry.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The others assented and as a body they went up the stairs and
out the door, hurrying forth, it seemed, to do their dastardly
deeds, and in their ardor not leaving behind even a single one to
guard the hideout. Despite our good fortunes, my spirits were
damp, for my sorrow of the Canitaur&rsquo;s ill fate was as a
wound in my bosom, knowing that I had been the sole reason for
their discovery. What a good kinsman redeemer, I thought, for my
coming may have ended the wars, or put its completion in motion,
yet not in the favor of my hosts.</p>

<p>To my chagrin, however, the Canitaurs, led by Wagner, were
buxom, seeming to find great humor in what had happened. Turning
to them in a zealous perplexity, I said spiritedly, &ldquo;How
can you laugh? You may have escaped, but your brethren are
doomed, and you yourselves will not last long around enemies
without the protection of the other Canitaurs.&rdquo;</p>

<p>But my rebuke only seemed to make their laughter and mirth
more hearty, and they raged on without ceasing for a time. After
a while, when they were reduced to a smiling remnant of their
former pleasure, Wagner turned gravely towards me and said,
&ldquo;Forgive me, Jehu, for not explaining it to you. You are
right to chastise us, but the situation is not as you seem to
think it, for the map they found was a fake, and will lead them
to nowhere of importance, while we affect our escape. We are
lucky that they left no guard, but come, let us not tempt fate
and remain any longer in this compromised outpost, to the
fortress we go!&rdquo;</p>

<p>He finished and met with the approbations of the others, and
accordingly, we exited the cubby hole and made our way through
the rummaged room, up the stairs, and out of the tree. It was now
early evening, and the temperance of twilight, with its soft and
mellow splendors, only increased the pleasantness of the area. A
slight breeze prevailed and rustled the leaves and boughs of the
giant trees just enough to render it pacifying and comforting.
Being quickened by the breeze, the lake danced on in its earlier
smoothness, only in a faster tempo, improving the ruggedness of
the watery wrinkles. The last visiting rays from the sun were
congregated on the eastern shores, saying their good-byes to the
glowing trees, and giving their parting respects before being
whisked away to their native lands of fire, to come again in
great numbers on the morrow.</p>

<p>We set off around the lake, making our way northward towards
the rugged mountains rising before us in a grand show of might.
Wagner and Taurus walked before and behind us, respectively,
Wagner leading the way and Taurus erasing the marks of our
passing, and both watching for any signs of ambush. Bernibus
walked abreast of myself, keeping me in pleasant company, for he
was a very enjoyable companion.</p>

<p>During our walk, Bernibus and I had an insightful
conversation, of which I will relate to you the following, as you
may find it interesting:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; I said to him, &ldquo;You seem to be a
jovial people, despite the war that you find yourselves in, but
are all of your people of the same attitude?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Very nearly, yes,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;For though
we do not wish war, the principles at stake here are important
enough for us to sacrifice an easy life for them. We&rsquo;ve
grown used to it, everything is done in such a way as to promote
secrecy and stealth, those being our main advantages in the
conflict. Out of hundreds of outposts like the one we were just
in, for example, only four others have ever been discovered, and
the Zards still have no clue where our fortress is.&rdquo; This
he said in a boastful manner, but as he did a faint spirit of
sorrow spread across his face for an instant, as if in memory of
one of the raids of previous times.</p>

<p>&ldquo;That explains their rapture when they found the false
map,&rdquo; I returned, &ldquo;But I must admit that I am still
ignorant of the cause of the wars. It was said that it was
conflicting ideologies, yet that is self-evident, as all conflict
is at heart just that. I don&rsquo;t mean, either, the actions
that caused the most recent inflammation, but what exactly your
conflicting ideologies are? What is it that keeps you from
harmony?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You have a knack for hard questions,&rdquo; he said
with a smile. Then he paused for a moment to collect his
thoughts. At length, he continued, &ldquo;The Canitaurs have a
profound respect for all that has gone before us, we honor the
traditions of our ancestors and revere their beliefs and their
ideas of truth. The past, in the guise of history, is the key to
the future, we believe, and we hold strictly to the worship of
Onan, the Lord of the Past,&rdquo; at this my attention was
perked. He continued, &ldquo;Our adherence to the ways of our
ancestors is based on the idea that what has continued throughout
the ages has continued because it is right, that it has remained
steadfast because it is based on the immovable foundations of
reality. We follow Onan because he is real, because the past has
existed, and it is certain that it will continue to exist, and
because that existence dictates the operation of the present.
Although we may seem ritualistic and entrenched in tradition to
the outside observer, we enjoy the comforts of knowing that we
are on a well tread path, that we are not alone in time but in
company with our forebears. We are called the Pastites because of
our beliefs, because of our tradition based lives that instill in
us a reliance on history, on the events of the past as a light by
which to guide our own actions, as a road paved by the flesh and
blood of our forefathers which leads to happiness and
peace.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Bernibus paused for another moment, as if in contemplation
once again, before he continued, saying, &ldquo;The Zards are
followers of the future, or Futurists as they are called. They
believe that the past is just that, the past: the ignorant and
selfish times of the unenlightened who were too shrouded by
prejudices to understand the world clearly. Instead they place
their faith in the scientific and philosophical ideas of the day,
believing that while history and the past were delegated to the
control of the unsophisticated whose ways were superstitious and
outdated, the present contains truth in its pure form. Reform and
revolution are their watchwords, for they tinker with the very
foundations of society and life in an attempt to cultivate it.
Zimri is their Lord, of the Future, and they follow him loosely,
for he doesn&rsquo;t require the strict adhesion that Onan does,
which suits their independent and relaxed world view very
well.&rdquo;</p>

<p>He went on, in summary, &ldquo;In a word, the Pastites believe
that history, the reality of the past, governs the present and
the future, while the Futurists believe that the future defines
the present and the past.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I begin to see the differences,&rdquo; I replied in a
humble, questioning manner, &ldquo;And yet they seem to me to be
passive, secondary differences, the kind that result in a
conflict of subtle disagreements here and there, argued over
dessert like tariffs or taxes, not at all violent. How is it that
they take such a prominent role in everyday life that they can
only be resolved by force? What is it that takes it from the
fireside to the battlefield?&rdquo;</p>

<p>Here I was slightly taken aback by the expression on
Bernibus&rsquo; face, it was one of surprise mingled with
apprehension and questioning. He said, &ldquo;Then you do not
know?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Know what?&rdquo;</p>

<p>He laughed, &ldquo;I take it you do not.&rdquo; Becoming
solemn again, he continued, &ldquo;Our land, Daem is on the edge
of ruin, and has been for all of my life and those of many
generations before me. About 530 years ago there was a great war
on earth, one in which no restraint was used, no mutually assured
destruction, for nuclear weapons came into the hands of those who
cared not for any life, not even their own. Tensions were high
for a decade, and in the following segregation, the peoples of
the earth lost their personal connection with their enemies, and,
as always happens, ceased to view them as equals, but instead as
evil ones bent on their destruction. Things came to such a crisis
that at last a little flame was lit and it grew and grew until it
became a full scale nuclear war. The destruction was total: no
one was exempt, as almost everything, and everyone, was
destroyed. The only surviving place was this island, which is the
sole habitat of the delcator beetle, a small insect that digests
nuclear waste and neutralizes it. The first few decades were
horrible, before the atmosphere recovered enough to return to
normal, and in that time things mutated and grew gigantic. The
trees and foliage, as you see, are an example of this, even the
redwood trees of old were nothing compared to the trees of Daem.
And the Zards and Canitaurs grew and changed as well, and, as we
lived on either ends of the island, as we do now, our forms
morphed into the separate forms that they now take.</p>

<p>&ldquo;And that is where our conflict turned violent,&rdquo;
he continued, &ldquo;For it is our desire, on both sides, to
return the earth to its previous state. The Pastites want to
return through time and stop the destruction before it happens,
because we believe that the past is what must be changed in order
to change the present and future. It is the actions of the past
that brought about the present woes, and it is they that must be
undone. For their part, the Futurists want to change the present
through the future, to go into the future and bring back its
completion, in the form of restored RNA cells, which is congruent
with their belief that the past is the past and all that matters
is that which is yet to come, that which still has the hope of
existence.&rdquo;</p>

<p>I looked at him as he finished and said, &ldquo;But, why not
do both. Wouldn&rsquo;t that be more effective than fighting each
other? How can continued destruction revert previous destruction
inflicted in the same manner? Could not both ideas be
tried?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;If only they could,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;It goes
back to Onan and Zimri, you see, for we ourselves cannot do such
things, but the gods whom we follow can. Shortly after the
worldwide destruction, we, meaning both the Zards and the
Canitaurs, received the prophesy of the kinsman redeemer, who
would be sent to help us change the earth to its former majesty.
He was to be one from the time right before the beginning of the
final firefight, one of the ancients who still kept the pure
human form. Our hostilities broke out in an attempt to control
the entire island, so that when he should come, the dominant
force would have him. Each side was convinced that theirs was the
right way, the only way through which the end of restoring the
earth&rsquo;s ecosystem could be reached. You are the kinsman
redeemer, Jehu, for you fit the prophecy perfectly, and I am glad
that you have fallen in with us.&rdquo;</p>

<p>After his discourse, Bernibus fell into a silent meditation,
as did I, and the rest of our walk through the now dark
wilderness was one of silence and solitude. Given the cessation
of action in my narrative, I will take this opportunity to
describe the circumstances of my arrival on the island of Daem,
about which you are no doubt wondering.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 4: Onan, Lord of the Past</h3>

<p>Not wishing to delve too far into my past or relate what would
be mundane and disconnected with my story, I will summarize with
brevity what my situation was. I was a military man, an Air force
pilot to be exact, and was on active duty patrolling the no-fly
zones off the coast of China, it being, at that time, an area of
very high tensions. The situation was grim, as any small incident
promised to set the pendulums of war into motion, but the worst
had subsided, and things were beginning to look as if that
incendiary incident wouldn&rsquo;t come after all. The main part
of my story begins on a cloudy night of what was to me just a few
weeks back, though it seems like many ages ago now, and indeed,
it was.</p>

<p>I was flying over an area that was littered with small
volcanic islands, the type that rise above or fall below sea
level continually, so that what one year is above water is later
below. Some of them have even been known to only rise above the
waves for a short time, and then vanish from the sea completely,
worn down by wind and waves. The night was murky, and the air was
thick with water and dust, the result being that there was no
natural light whatsoever, and any artificial light that could be
mustered was largely reduced to nothing, visibility being no more
than twenty feet.</p>

<p>The wind was calm and the flying, though strenuous from lack
of sight, was without turbulence. I was doing well, until out of
nowhere I heard a loud crack of thunder, followed by a bolt of
lightning that hit the plane. At once I lost all of the
instruments, excepting the actual control of the plane in manual,
meaning that the radar and all the guidance systems were
crippled, and I could see nothing. Not knowing what to do, and
not being able to radio for help, I pulled down and slowed until
I was just barely remaining airborne, and began looking for an
island to land on.</p>

<p>Once below 200 feet, the clouds gave way and I saw an island.
I aimed for it and slowed more, preparing to land on it. I did,
though just barely, for it was extremely small, being one of
those inconsistent volcanic islands. Getting out of the plane, I
was greeted by a strong blast of wind that was dripping water
from its cold grip, and I was instantly chilled to the bone.
There was nothing on the island at all, except for the hole in
its center, from which, no doubt, came the lava that had formed
it. It was on a slightly elevated hill, and looked as if it had
not erupted for many thousands of years. With nothing to do at
that moment except to get an idea of the island that I had landed
on, I walked over to it and knelt down beside it, peering blankly
into its depths. It seemed to be absolutely devoid of light, and,
as often happens, its darkness was mysterious to me, for I
wondered what lay hidden in it, and my curiosity got the better
of my common sense. I leaned slowly forward. Then, as I did so, I
heard a loud and terrible voice, personified in the crashing of
the waves and the moaning of the wind, and it said in a
monotonous and unending refrain, &ldquo;Enter.&rdquo; Nothing
more nor less than the continual repetition of that word. This
alarmed me, and as I did not want to do that, I began to stand
upright and back away from it, to return to my plane. But as I
raised my knee from the ground in order to stand, my other knee
slipped under the increased pressure, and in the ensuing
instability, I completely lost my balance and fell forward into
the hole.</p>

<p>There are certain events in our lives that change the whole
course of our existence, and falling forward into the hole was
one for me. Its immediate effects weren&rsquo;t injurious to me
at all, but it matured with time, like a good wine, and grew
until it overcame me, starting the chain of events which would
result in my demise. Yet not only mine, but that of everyone.</p>

<p>Let me continue, though, and I will explain what I mean and
not confuse you more. I landed with a thud on a pile of soft dirt
some twenty feet down, in a dark place which seemed open, not
cavernous and cramped as I would have expected. My eyes adjusted
to the darkness, and as they did, I realized it was not now
totally lightless, for there was a faint glow coming from
somewhere in the distance. Looking up through the passage I had
come down, I saw that there was no way to climb up it, and,
accordingly, set off to find the source of the faint light that
came from the distance. After walking cautiously through the
darkness, I reached a curve and then a tunnel-like exit to the
spacious cavern that I was in, and as I turned it I saw the
source of the light: lava flows. The room, or area, I had entered
was rather thin and round, with a river of lava flowing downwards
and a small ledge of rock winding along its edge. Together they
descended spirally downwards at a gentle angle, taking the form
of an intelligently designed ramp. As I followed it down I soon
broke out in a sweat, for the gurgling, fiery plasma heated the
area up to a warm degree.</p>

<p>I found myself looking intently at the flowing fire beside
which I walked, its strangeness stealing my meditations from
other things, and I looked at it absorbingly, not paying
attention to the path that I walked on, so entranced was I with
the feeling that its boiling character gave to me.</p>

<p>As I walked along the lava preoccupied with my meditations and
not paying conscious attention to the path, my subconscious was
carefully monitoring my way, and when once my eyes glanced
upward, I quickly saw that my surroundings had changed. The
narrow, spiral descending tunnel had given way to a very
cavernous area where the lava flow formed a large lake of fire. A
domed ceiling crowned this great room, though not exact and
polished, having instead a rough appearance as it stretched from
wall to wall, a semi-chasm of a hundred yards, more or less, with
its uppermost height being not less than twenty yards. On the far
walls were two lava falls, trickling from raised tunnels in the
wall into the body of lava, which covered the whole bottom of the
room. There was a platform that sat in the middle of the fiery
lake, connected to the tunnel I had come from by a walkway of
stone. This room was different than the other two, also, in its
fashion, for while the previous had vague evidences of
intelligent design, this one was very obviously artificially
decorated. The walkway above mentioned was of ornate stone with
an intricate design of circles, squares, and triangles carved
into it, and on each corner of the center stage was a long pillar
that reached from floor to ceiling, each carved like a totem
pole, with a variety of animals and shapes stacked upon one
another. The dome was done ornately as well, for I saw as I
walked further into the room that what I had thought had been
imperfections in the dome proved to be an elaborate three
dimensional sculpture that stuck out from the ceiling, depicting
an intricate scene of figures and telling a story of some great
saga of war and peace, pride and prejudice, love and hate, faith
and betrayal, all combined to make the greatest mural: history,
the story of time itself.</p>

<p>As I looked in awe upon its beauty, I was startled by a voice
coming from an unseen figure somewhere on the center platform. It
said, &ldquo;Jehu, you have come at last. Welcome.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The voice was very gentle and pleasing to the ears, slowly and
confidently spoken, meticulously articulated. I looked around in
its direction and saw a short, elderly gnome with a long white
beard reaching to his chest and a short crop of hair on his
oblong head, which was outfitted with a sharp, angular nose, a
pair of sparkling eyes, and two protruding ears. He was no more
than four feet tall, and no less than three, with a dignified
poise to him, and was dressed in a dark robe with a black and
gold design on it. We looked at each other for a moment, he
smiling pleasantly and me expressionless, for though I felt that
I should be surprised, or at least bewildered, at the sight of a
gnome in an underground cavern, I was not, it was as if I had
almost been expecting it to happen, as if in the back of my mind
I had already been there and done that. Perhaps it was only a
case of predestined deja vu, or maybe it was something less
tangible. Either way, the gnome then broke the silence again,
saying:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Let me introduce myself, Jehu. I am Onan, the Lord of
the Past, and these are the Chambers of History.&rdquo;</p>

<p>He then paused for a moment, waiting for my reaction, which
was, again, not too much surprised, but rather complacent,
thought I didn&rsquo;t look bored or snobbish, as is sometimes
the case in that situation. Instead I became as genial as
possible, realizing that whatever force was behind this, it was
greater than I.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Hello, Onan, it is pleasure to meet you,&rdquo; I said,
advancing with a proffered hand extended towards him, which I
realized belatedly made me appear oafish, but he took it
good-naturedly, and with his pleasantness eliminated my unease at
shaking the hand of one half my size. He then beckoned for me to
follow him, and turned and walked to the center of the platform,
where he unexpectedly laid down on his back, facing the muraled
dome. I did the same, somewhat hesitantly, though I found it to
be quite comfortable once I was down. He saw my sluggishness and
by way of explanation said to me:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Do not be troubled, my dear Jehu, for we lie on our
backs to bring about clarity of mind.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Then he continued speaking, calling my attention to the
sculptured dome:</p>

<p>&ldquo;That is history,&rdquo; he said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;What do you mean,&rdquo; I asked, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve
always viewed history as an organic being, constantly growing as
it devours the present.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is an organic being,&rdquo; he replied, &ldquo;A
monstrous beast of sorts. But that (meaning the mural on the
dome), my friend, is the genetics of history, its code that
dictates what it is and what it will become, the master
plan.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Allow me to take a moment to describe the mural for you.
Firstly, its form: it was spread out across the dome like the
painted ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, its whole being a broad,
harmonious picture that complimented itself, telling a story
throughout its united branches. It was much more than a painting,
though, because it stood out from the dome like a group of
completely independent sculptures, but placed so as to tell the
combined story with a sort of native ease, not stressed or
artificial, yet seeming as natural and beautiful as water in its
flowing grace. Now I will endeavor to describe its content,
though I realize that in this case the picture must be worth many
millions of words.</p>

<p>The center of the mural was its beginning, and there a man was
standing proudly upright, dressed in splendid clothes of fine
linens. He held in his hand a magnificent cup of gold with a row
each of diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and pearls running along its
breadth. It contained a dark red liquid, which appeared to be
boiling, and the man was holding it out to a fierce lion whose
shoulders were four feet across and whose mouth was like a
cavern, with stalactites and stalagmites of the most terrifying
nature. With an evil glare in its eyes toward the man, the lion
drank thirstily from the cup. Around the man and the lion there
was a ring of blazing fire, leaping out of the dome like great
pillars of flame, entrapping them within its narrow circle. On
the outside of the fire was a group of mighty lizards and beasts,
the smallest of which was larger than several elephants. Their
whole attention was paid to a great fight in which they were
engaged, yet their foe was naught but the reflections of
themselves on the great sea which surrounded the island that held
these strange sights. Several of them were dead or severely
wounded at having been accidentally mauled by their fighting
brethren. Across the ocean from the island there was another
landmass, whose far edges were not in sight. On it were many
ape-men bowing down in worship of a gigantic White Eagle which
was soaring far above them with a multitude of lords and ladies
gripped in its massive talons. The lords were dressed in silken
robes and adorned with many pieces of fine jewelry, and the
ladies were clothed in skirts of crimson; both groups had upon
their faces looks of pleasure, and contempt towards those far
below them.</p>

<p>Onan continued speaking, &ldquo;You see, Jehu, the whole of
history, both that now written and that yet to come, is planned,
executed according to its own power, for the course of time is
marked as clearly as the tides: by its own coming and going it is
revealed. Revealed, however, only in an abstract and undefined
manner, so that while its marks are clearly seen, it is only by
special revelations that it is shown in a comprehensive and
detailed light. And that is why I have summoned you here, my dear
Jehu, for you are the chosen one, summoned to help me.&rdquo;</p>

<p>I was skeptical and asked him, &ldquo;You summoned me? But
how, I was to forced to crash land on the island by the weather,
and accidentally fell into the volcano&rsquo;s mouth. It was by
my own freewill decisions that the circumstances of my arrival
here were fulfilled.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Onan laughed quietly and said, &ldquo;History is not an
unstoppable machine, allied with fate to control the destiny of
all things past and future, nor does it nullify the power of
man&rsquo;s freewill, yet the force that acts upon the minds of
men to form them is history itself. You see, men are not the
opponents of history and fate, for they do not impede its
progress with their freewill decisions, instead they are its
minions, its slaves, building up its strength and carrying out
its dictates by its influence, so that they become history as
they serve it, adding to its organism their own consciouses.
While you were brought to these Chambers by circumstances of your
own choosing, your desires in choosing those circumstances were
dictated by the experiences of the past. But never mind how I
summoned you, for you are here now.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; I said, not wishing to disagree with
the Lord of the Past. Still, I was in a stubborn frame of mind,
and asked, &ldquo;But if the past is as powerful as you construe
it to be, then why does the Lord of the Past need the help of a
mere mortal like myself? Or do you mean you need a more direct
agent than those you control only by influence?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Something like that,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;You
see, there was a great disaster once, which was blamed on me, and
in order to atone for it, I promised to send a kinsman redeemer
before anything so devastating happened again, and I believe you
are the perfect choice.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What devastating event hasn&rsquo;t been blamed on the
past in one form or another?&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;But why not
just go yourself?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is against the rules,&rdquo; Onan told me.</p>

<p>&ldquo;How typical.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, indeed, I sometimes wonder what good it is to be a
god if you can&rsquo;t do anything yourself,&rdquo; he said with
a sigh.</p>

<p>&ldquo;What do you want me to do there, then?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I cannot tell you, unfortunately.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Against the rules?&rdquo; I asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Very much so. All that I can do is send an agent with a
slight understanding of the situation of history and physical
existence to the people, but he must make the judgments of how to
proceed all on his own. If I did tell you, it wouldn&rsquo;t be
much different than going myself, and then there would be no
human resolution to human problems.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Our lives serve as a spectator sport to the gods,
then?&rdquo; I inquired of him.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am afraid not,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;It is much more
serious than that. The Greeks were not all wrong, you
know.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Who else, I wonder.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not many,&rdquo; he sighed, &ldquo;But tell me, are you
ready?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;As I&rsquo;ll ever be.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Then I will begin. The understanding of life begins
with the understanding of physical existence,&rdquo; Onan said,
&ldquo;And by physical existence I mean the quality of being
materially animated. Not to confuse it with consciousness, which
is the ability to think and reason, it is rather the realm in
which one has substance and continuity. I will call the elements
of physical being time and matter, those words representing
widely known concepts. Matter provides the raw substance and time
gives those lifeless objects a plane of being to exist in.
Without time, matter can do nothing except sit in a sterile
state, in a vacuum in which nothing could occur; and without
matter, time would flow, but nothing would move with it. Thus,
the basis of physical existence is time and matter, each being
useless separately, yet together being the perfect combination of
a tangible object and the fluid, forward movement to animate it.
Imagine it as a three-dimensional painting, matter given depth by
time.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not so complicated,&rdquo; I said cheerfully.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not yet, you mean,&rdquo; he laughed.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Exactly, tell me more.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not just yet, Jehu. First you must help me.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;The time to begin has come then?&rdquo; I asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, you must go now,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;And
remember, I&rsquo;ll be watching. Good-bye.&rdquo;</p>

<p>And with that, not even standing up, Onan put me into a deep
state of comatose and sent me through time to the unknown lands
and people whom I was to deliver. I awoke, as you will remember,
in the center of the savanna. Now that you know the circumstances
of my arrival on Daem, I will go back to where I was before: on
the way to the Canitaur&rsquo;s hidden fortress.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 5: The Treeway</h3>

<p>I was walking in silence through the rugged forests of
northern Daem alongside Bernibus the Canitaur, with his fellows
Wagner and Taurus before and behind us, respectively, the former
leading the way, the latter covering our tracks, and both on the
lookout for an ambush. An entire lifetime of guerrilla warfare
and privations of all kinds had instilled in the Canitaurs a
strong and prevailing sense of caution, which sometimes rendered
their lighthearted and almost spiritually frivolous nature to the
casual observer a dense, deceiving demeanor used to conceal their
true selves. But that was not the case, I believe, for they were,
or at least Bernibus was, truly amorous in personality.</p>

<p>The sky was then in its deepest dark, and in the few breaks in
the canopy above large enough to be seen through, there were few
celestial lights to illuminate the depths of that mountainous
forest. The forest itself sprawled like a great metropolis along
the lands above the large central lake of Daem, Lake Umquam
Renatusum, which was close beside the Canitaur outpost where we
had narrowly escaped discovery and capture. However deficient in
sight the forest was, it was abounding with sounds, everything
from the call of the owl to groan of the bull frog, it was as if
the whole of the forest had congregated about us, drawn to us by
some unknown scent of interest and intrigue.</p>

<p>Continuing on for some time in the same way, I found myself
growing weary, nodding my head slowly towards the oblivion of
sleep, until I was brought to an instant liveliness by
Wagner&rsquo;s announcement that we had reached our destination.
I looked around carefully, yet I saw nothing at all to indicate
the entrance to a large, covert military establishment, much to
my companions delight. Their whimsical sense of humor surfaced
once again as they laughed with seemingly infinite pleasure, both
at my wondering expression and with a sense of satisfaction at
their own cleverness. After the outburst had been subdued and a
certain level of solemnity had been reached, Wagner approached
the nearest tree and knocked on it with a rhythmic
rut-tut-tut.</p>

<p>Expecting their old trick to be replayed, I waited for the
tree to open, but to my surprise, it didn&rsquo;t, instead a
strong rope ladder dropped down from a tree several yards to the
east. This we climbed, and I found that I had been mistaken as to
the height of the ancient wooden towers, for they proved to be
even loftier in dimensions than I had imagined. Accordingly, it
took us a good five minutes to reach its top at a quick and
steady pace, and all through the climb I was terrified at the
long drop, from which the ladder offered no protections. Yet I
made it to the top safely, and found that there was a large
platform built securely among its upper branches, with enough
room to hold a few dozen persons, and there was even comfortable
seating in the center. There were four guards stationed on the
platform, each equipped with a long bow and a quiver of metal
tipped arrows, and though they were hardly visible through the
dim light emitted from the covered lantern that lit the platform,
I could see them quietly conversing with Wagner and Taurus while
Bernibus and myself reposed on the seats provided for that very
purpose.</p>

<p>They conversed for awhile, though I could not hear them, nor
could I see them well enough to judge their facial expressions,
but Bernibus waylaid any anxious thoughts I had with his
encouraging tone, and also by giving me a drought of ale and a
loaf of bread to overcome my fatigue and hunger, both of which I
quickly consumed. He gave me more bread, but wouldn&rsquo;t allow
me another glass of ale, for safety&rsquo;s sake. At first I
thought he deemed me easily overcome by spirits, but I soon
discovered his reasons and thanked him.</p>

<p>Wagner returned from the guards and, finding that we were
ready to proceed, led us to the far corner of the platform, where
we were joined by Taurus. We then set off on a road that ran
above the lower levels of the canopy, made from jointed platforms
that were attached to the massive limbs of the trees, meeting the
branches of the next tree half way across, forming a continuous,
snaking path far above the ground. Traveling on those paths we
made our way criss-crossingly to the west. The walking was no
more difficult than on the ground, for the boards were firmly
secured to the great branches, which were at least five or six
feet wide, and there were short rails as well.</p>

<p>After no more than half an hour of travel on the
&lsquo;Treeway&rsquo;, we reached another large platform in the
center of a great tree which was very much like the first one,
excepting that the trunk of the tree came up through its center
and there was a door leading into the trunk. There were eight
guards on this platform, but they let us pass without more than a
friendly gesture, their scouts having, no doubt, seen us long
before and ascertained our identity and intentions. They seemed
to have been expecting the return of Wagner&rsquo;s group, though
the addition of me they appeared to eye curiously.</p>

<p>Wagner led us directly to the door, which opened into a set of
circular stairs that wound down the inside of the tree like the
insides of an old world lighthouse tower. The stairs descended
further than the tree ascended, wrapping around almost
infinitely, at least to my wearied senses, which were depleted of
vividness by the treacherous toils of the proceeding day. Down,
down, down went the stairs, until at length we reached the bottom
and found ourselves in a cave, the stairs ending in a small foyer
area which opened out into the cave, it being delved into the
bedrock layer, indicating that we had indeed passed below the
surface on our descent. The passage was really a narrow defile
with high walls on either side, impenetrable due to the fact that
they were the foundations of the earth above. It stretched on for
a ways, its whole length commanded by little, turret like
stations which stuck out from the upper wall, in which were
stationed groups of archers, and though they now stood in a
solemn, dignified manner, any opposition that attempted to force
a way through would have been decimated. Yet they stood at
attention and made no noise or movement at our passing, instead
being the essence of well disciplined soldiery.</p>

<p>This narrow chasm led onward for about three hundred yards,
the walls stretching upwards in such a fashion that it brought to
mind images of Moses crossing the Red Sea, with great walls of
water suspended in air on either side, ready at any moment to
come crashing down upon them, their lives in the hands of
another. So did I then feel, the Canitaur guards being able to
slay me on the slightest whim of fancy that struck their minds
into a sadistic mood. Yet I was not afraid, instead I was
overcome by a feeling of relaxation, where all cares and worries
are given up as frivolous burdens, not necessary and not helpful,
being, in fact, harmful to the mind.</p>

<p>The defile, or narrow passage, led to a great abyss, crossable
only by a drawbridge controlled on the other side, which was at
this time lowered and ready for us to cross, which we did,
accompanied by four honor guards who were dressed in all the pomp
and pleasantry known by the Canitaurs. It was a custom among them
to greet newcomers with an honor guard which escorted them to the
body of dignitaries and aristocrats that would be waiting to
welcome them in style. This was done for us, and we were led into
the fortress&rsquo; great room, which was used for discussions
and debates, via another winding stairway that took us even
further below the surface. It was a splendid room, equipped with
all kinds of luxuries and embellishments and spreading out like a
quarter circle around a central stage with a podium upon it.
Seats were arranged in arching rows, with a sort of cluster of
seats around a wooden desk being allotted to each of the members
of the council and his aide de camps; there were two hundred such
clusters. Sitting there like they had been woken from sleep to
attend to us were the delegates, looking tired and untidy, a rare
state for a Canitaur to be in, with their clothes ruffled, their
hair uncombed, and their eyes glazed with a discordant state of
mind.</p>

<p>Wagner, who turned out to be a high official among them, led
me to the top of the stage where the podium was, with a sofa,
desk, and several chairs behind it, concealed from the council by
the raised floor and walls that formed the base of the podium,
creating a small, private anteroom for those at the podium. I
laid myself down tiredly on the sofa to rest while Wagner took
the stage and began to speak.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Friends, comrades, associates,&rdquo; he said to the
council, &ldquo;I thank you for neglecting your beds at this late
hour to join with us here in the Hall of Meeting, for there is
something very important to be shared. You are all no doubt
familiar with the ancient prophecy of the Externus Miraculum:
long ago it was told that in our extreme need, when hope no
longer exists in the hearts of many, an ancient would be sent by
Onan our lord to redeem and deliver us from the evils of this
world, for as our doom was wrought in their times, so would our
hope originate. The past cannot be changed except by those who
first made it, and our present is dictated by the happenings of
the past, so that for a better future the past must be changed,
and only then will we be freed from the burdens of
history.&rdquo;</p>

<p>He continued, &ldquo;We have therefore long awaited the
arrival of our kinsman redeemer, who will change the past and
prevent the cause of our current woes from happening, for without
its roots, what evil can grow and flourish? Our redeemer was to
come on the Kootch Patah, when our adversaries the Zards are not
watchful, being drunk with celebrations at the turning of the
year. Myself, Taurus and Bernibus went to the shores of Lake
Umquam Renatusum, as is our custom, to watch for the coming of
the promised one, and this time we were not disappointed, for he
came to us, even as the prophecy says, as we sat hidden in the
living tower. Seen by the Zards, we were almost discovered, until
the promise of the hidden fortress drew them away, even as the
prophecy says. And now we are here, delegates of the Canitaurian
people, safely within our fortress with our kinsman redeemer, so
what shall be done? Let us decide.&rdquo;</p>

<p>At this point he cast a glance towards me, as if desiring me
to speak before the council, but I was in the last throes of
wakefulness, where sleep has crept so far upon you that arrival
in the land of dreams is only a matter of moments, and
wakefulness is not desired, nor is anything else. I looked at him
with my eyes glazed with that sweet, savory taste of sleep, and
though I was conscious, I was not in control, only an audience to
actions of my subconscious whims, and even that passed beyond my
reach as my eyes fell shut, isolating me in the realm where
worldly concerns mean nothing. And so I was when my exhaustion
overtook me, leaving me sound asleep on the sofa behind the
podium.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 6: The Fiery Lake</h3>

<p>When I woke I was no longer in that room but in another, a
small homely room where I was laid on a bed, the room being
located, as I found out later, not too far from the Hall of
Meeting. Though the depth of the fortress prevented me from
knowing the time, it felt to be early afternoon by that strange
internal clock that so seldom errs. It was correct, as usual.
There was a quaint fireplace on the far wall of the room with a
small, unadorned and unpretentious mantle, decorated like the
rest of the fortress in a practical and experienced way, finding
just the right flavor between the ornate, the practical, and the
quaint, and avoiding all the while the clutter brought by
superfluous material possessions. A table in the center of the
room was furnished with a steaming meal, beside which sat my new
friend Bernibus, smiling on me with a benevolent and almost
paternal affection.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Good morning, Jehu,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;Or should I
say afternoon, for the morning has quite passed by
already.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, and it has left in me a great appetite, my good
man.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;As is shown clearly in your eyes,&rdquo; he jested,
&ldquo;Come and eat.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Needing no further urging, I leapt from my bed, sat down
across from him at the table, and began partaking greedily of the
hearty breakfast of hash browns and pancakes, which were pleasing
to my mouth and stomach, for the tastes in food are controlled
more by the condition of the body than by the time of day. When I
had satisfied my needs, we reclined in our chairs and began
conversing:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;Did my untimely slumber
yester eve cause any irritated prides?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Quite to the contrary, the council was well humored and
followed your lead to their bed chambers.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am relieved to hear it, for I was anxious of
appearing lax in ardor or animation.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not so, my friend, you are quite exonerated from
doubtful thoughts. There is a session planned for this evening
though, so may yet feel yourself put on trial.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Unfortunate,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;But surely they can
mean no harm, am I not the kinsman redeemer, after
all?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, you are,&rdquo; Bernibus said with a look of
subdued apprehension, &ldquo;We have an end in view, though the
means are as yet not wholly decided. It is a complicated
situation.&rdquo;</p>

<p>I smiled softly, &ldquo;So is always the case.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;In truth it is: time reveals all things yet do all
things reveal time?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; I asked him.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Our situation is complicated by differing views of
time, and I was wondering aloud if history and the present
reality disclose the truth about time in the same way that time
reveals the truth of the present. If our way were more
illuminated, the journey would be easier.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Perhaps that is why men look to the well lit paths of
history, or to the dim conjectures of the future rather than the
dark, yet detailed ways of present.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;But the present is so
fleeting that it holds little intrigue&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Even so, it is the stage, not still waiting behind the
curtain, nor already performed.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yet the past controls by influences and prejudices,
justified or not, and it will doubtless be the view of the
council that the past must be redone, that the problems be
addressed at the source,&rdquo; Bernibus replied.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am still in the dark about all your
inferences,&rdquo; I said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;My apologies, I forget myself. But let us not dwell on
subjects which may become quite exhausted in the near future, for
better or worse,&rdquo; he told me.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Fair enough,&rdquo; I returned, acceding to the subject
change, and jumping on the opportunity to steer it in a different
direction, &ldquo;I know little of you, Bernibus, so tell me
all.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;There isn&rsquo;t much to tell,&rdquo; he coyly
responded.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Nonsense, Bernibus, tell me or I shall get very
angry,&rdquo; I jested, imitating some mythological god&rsquo;s
wrath.</p>

<p>He smiled discreetly and yielded to my request, &ldquo;Very
well, I will tell you. I was born in the year 490 D.V. (that is,
Durante Vita), to a poor couple from the northernmost pier of
Daem, the Gog.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Wait a moment, Bernibus,&rdquo; I interrupted, &ldquo;I
didn&rsquo;t mean in that fashion, for when I say I know little
of you, it is because I literally know little of
&lsquo;you&rsquo;, not the circumstances that make up your past.
I guess it goes back to the interpretation of the past and its
powers, and since we can&rsquo;t seem to escape discussing it,
lets embrace it willingly. You seem to believe that the events of
your life have shaped you in such a profound way that their mere
description is sufficient to explain your personality; I will
grant that their influence has effected you subtly, but history
is not the scapegoat of the present. The circumstances do more to
define the character of an individual than to shape it, for even
siblings with the exact same experiences can be greatly different
in personality and achievements. But what I mean is this: your
past has influenced your present, yet it is gone and your present
remains, show me Bernibus, not his previous forms.&rdquo;</p>

<p>You, who are now reading this, may think this statement of
mine to Bernibus to be hypocritical, in light of the very purpose
and intent of these memoirs. You may be thinking that I am
relating this whole happening in order to justify my actions and
decisions. But that is not the case, for I understand that you
have no power over me, I have long been dead in your present and
your sentiments mean naught to me. In fact, I wish to tell of the
circumstances I found myself in as much as of myself, so that you
may have a retrospective clarity in visions of the future. You
will understand that statement later on, but for now let me say
that I wished to know the essence, the person, the consciousness
of Bernibus, whereas I wish to impart to you my story, though ere
its end you may come also to know me. I have no ambitions of
material immortality.</p>

<p>Bernibus understood my meaning, and though he disagreed with
its theoretical imputations, he humored me and did as I
suggested. He pulled back his brow in a reflective demeanor,
brought his eyes to mine and began:</p>

<p>&ldquo;You desire me to tell you about myself without
literally telling you of myself. I suppose you mean that we
discourse on some variety of subjects, so that you can see who I
am discreetly,&rdquo; he said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; I replied, &ldquo;You say it better
than I.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Perhaps it is for the best, as you will draw your own
conclusions rather than be given mine, and instead of my telling
you what I would like to think I am, you would see what I am in
truth. Strange, isn&rsquo;t it, that though we think we know
ourselves, we very much do not, and it is only the unbiased
observer who sees us as we are. You know, I was once thinking of
writing my memoirs, and I would have, except that I was afraid
that if I read them afterward I would be forced to see myself as
I am and be horrified at the truth.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Damn the truth,&rdquo; I said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re starting to sound like a
philosopher,&rdquo; he laughed.</p>

<p>&ldquo;And you a psychologist,&rdquo; I rejoined.</p>

<p>&ldquo;And where would that place us on the scale of
artificial intelligence,&rdquo; Bernibus jested.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Following the footsteps of Jeroboam,&rdquo; I
returned.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Hmm?</p>

<p>&ldquo;Oh, nothing. Tell me,&rdquo; I asked more solemnly,
&ldquo;What position does Wagner hold among the
Canitaurs?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;He is the Khedive Kibitzer, our ruler in that he leads
the council.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;And you?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am his brother-in-law, a relationship that our
culture places great importance on, especially as he has no blood
brothers. I become, in effect, his partner, though he
doesn&rsquo;t accept me emotionally as one, only in
etiquette.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Why is that?&rdquo; I inquired.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Because, I am of weak heritage. His sister loved me,
and I her, but to him there is no such thing as love, only
business, the destruction of the Zards at any cost. No price is
too high,&rdquo; he told me with almost a vengeful scowl on his
usually pleasant features, it soon passed, though, and left no
trace when it had.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You sound bitter, Bernibus.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;My feelings betray me, yet I am not bitter, only
disillusioned.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You sympathize with the Zards, then?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not at all, I do sympathize, however, with peaceful
solutions,&rdquo; he said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Which is why Wagner disapproves of you, no
doubt.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, mainly, but don&rsquo;t misunderstand me. I am not
a closet Futurist, nor am I a strict pacifist, I just can&rsquo;t
help feeling that there is another way. But I understand the
selection of ideologies, how the stronger breaks the weaker to
submission, and while one flourishes, the other diminishes, and I
understand focus points, but I cannot justify their
marriage.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What you mean by focus points?&rdquo; I asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;They are the culmination of conflict, where two sides
meet and the battle takes place, not meaning necessarily an
important or strategic military, civil, or commercial place, but
one on which the fighting occurs, the result ending in the defeat
or victory of the whole campaign. The focus point of the Zards
and the Canitaurs exists both on the philosophical and martial
levels. On the philosophical level, it is the question as to what
is the proper solution for remedying our current catastrophic
situation. On one side the Pastites wish to correct the root of
the problem by stopping its realization in the past, the
Futurists, however, would venture into the future and brings its
stabilization and completion back. On the military level, our
forces collide in the forests around Lake Umquam Renatusum, the
northern mountains belonging to us and the southern plains to
them. The lake itself is of little importance, yet whoever
conquers it will conquer all.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Interesting,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;But I do not
understand how you seem to imply that I am your ancestor, while
Onan seemed to mean the opposite, that you are my
ancestors.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is strange and complex, and we understand very
little of it, ourselves. The time for the council has come
though, for our talk has dwindled away the afternoon. Perhaps
some of your questions will there be answered. But come, let us
go.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;Take me to your
leaders.&rdquo;</p>

<p>From that room, the one I had awoken in, it wasn&rsquo;t very
far to the council room. Exiting it, we turned down a short,
closed hallway that opened into the concealed area behind the
podium that I spoke of earlier. On the sofa where I had fallen
asleep was seated Wagner and on a circle of smaller chairs around
the edges of the area were seated about ten stately looking
Canitaurs, clean and well dressed, according to their customs.
They greeted me amorously, with a mixture of eagerness,
excitement, and hope painted on their purloined countenances,
taken from the sleepless spirits of several departed generations
of war-hardened veterans.</p>

<p>Standing as we entered, they greeted me cordially, and, once
the formal greeting of a short bow and a blessing was finished,
we all sat down, they in their previous seats, I next to Wagner,
and Bernibus in a small chair in the corner, away from the circle
of the delegates. He, that is, Wagner, then opened our
dialog:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Welcome to the council, Jehu,&rdquo; he said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I was under the impression that the council was much
larger,&rdquo; I replied candidly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is, but this is the leadership; we felt that the
clamors of a full legislature would be overwhelming to you at
first. I know it still overwhelms me sometimes,&rdquo; he
laughed, and the others with him. That explanation sufficed at
the time, but I later found that Wagner had taken control of the
council himself, and that it had no real power: it never met for
more than ceremonial matters, the Khedive Kibitzer, Wagner,
controlling the rest. But I get ahead of myself.</p>

<p>One of the others then interjected, &ldquo;Our purpose now,
Jehu, is not so much to make decisions as to inform you of the
decisions we have already made, not that we mean to exclude you
from our counsels, but we&rsquo;ve been preparing for this
moment, your arrival, for many years, since it was foretold long
ago.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Decisions with what end?&rdquo; I asked of them.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The reestablishing of an efficient and healthy climate,
both naturally and philosophically, one in which tradition,
history, and experience reign supreme,&rdquo; Wagner said in such
a way that I couldn&rsquo;t help but think that it had served as
an idiom of his for many years.</p>

<p>&ldquo;A termination of the Zardovian conflict,
then?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Essentially, but not wholly, as there are other, more
complicated ends in view, less integrated with the format of a
completely ideological conflict.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Meaning?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Meaning that we wish to return to our original
forms,&rdquo; Wagner said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Those being, I assume, the same as my own.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, you see after the Great War, the atmosphere was so
filled with radioactive materials that all life was destroyed,
except for that on Daem, which was protected because of our
distant and isolated location, and the presence of a group of
insects that neutralize radiation. They were overwhelmed in the
first few decades, for though they were able to reduce the amount
to make it habitable, we degenerated into what we are now, Zards
and Canitaurs, based on our habitats, we being mountainous,
forest dwelling folk, and they plains people. At first our
ancestors grew to immense proportions, as did the vegetation on
Daem, but we slowly returned to normal size as the radioactive
material was consumed. I am surprised that Onan did not tell you
about it all,&rdquo; he said, looking at me with a slight tinge
of confusion creeping into his wayward eyes, formerly filled only
with hope and excitement.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I wish he would have,&rdquo; I responded, &ldquo;But he
said that it was against the rules.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Ah, yes, I forgot about the rules there for a
moment,&rdquo; he laughed, his countenance returning to its
former gleeful appearance.</p>

<p>&ldquo;A foolish law, no doubt, and from whom?&rdquo; I said,
availing of the apparent intra-personal deja vu, that is, the
converging of the presents of our two minds into one idea,
between Wagner and myself to cultivate a bit of sympathy in my
difficult situation. But there would be no harvest, for Wagner
checked his mirth and said:</p>

<p>&ldquo;It was necessary, and the Council of the Gods did well
to govern themselves more strictly.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;How so?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, during the Homeric period the gods really went at
it, using humanity as players in their battles, like a game of
chess, actually. Come to think of it, chess did originate in the
realm of the gods after the laws. Things were quite a mess back
then, though, with a whole horde of demi-gods walking the earth,
and it ended up snuffing out the first flames of democracy and
leaving monarchies for the longest time.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Homer&rsquo;s stories were true, then?&rdquo; I
asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Very much so, but after the laws of physical abstinence
were adopted things mellowed out considerably, and men went back
to their self-obsession, their material minds weren&rsquo;t yet
weaned from the physical realm.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;So the very men who claimed mental superiority because
they were free from superstitions and divine disillusionment were
themselves victims of their own sophism, and while they thought
themselves crowned with enlightenment, it was naught but the
Phrygian caps of their prejudices toward the material
state?&rdquo; I asked, with more than the average dose of irony
and feeling, both for my subjects and myself.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Exactly, upon disinterested examination one finds the
theater of human history to be one defined by a ludicrous
melodramaticy, the soap opera of the gods,&rdquo; he answered.
&ldquo;But we digress far from our point, Jehu, which is a
discussion concerning the implementation of our plans of action
formed in preparation of our current situation.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;So I had surmised,&rdquo; I smiled at the reminder,
&ldquo;But tell me, what are your plans, and what is the current
situation?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;This is a time of fulfillment, with the events of many
of our prophecies coming to pass. Now is a time of action and of
hope. You, our kinsman redeemer, have come, and the time is ripe
for victory and domination, ripe, in short, for a return to
natural existence, harmony between forces interior and exterior.
Our plan, my dear Jehu, is to attack the Zards swiftly and
fiercely and break their strongholds like the walls of Jericho,
literally.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It sounds daring, certainly,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;But
is it not overly so? I was under the impression that the Zards
were much superior in force than the Canitaurs.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;In the southern regions, where you landed, yes, they
are, but we rule the northern sphere of action. Our forces
actually form a soft equilibrium that keeps fate&rsquo;s pendulum
from straying from its neutral position, so that a military
action previously would not have been predictable, with either
side being capable of winning. Under such conditions war is
avoided, but now you have arrived. The Zards, as well as
ourselves, have been expecting a kinsman redeemer, you see, and
our war has been kept from raging by the belief of each side that
their god would propel them to victory with certainty by the
sending of one such as yourself. Your arrival changes things, it
marks the beginning of our dominance,&rdquo; he told me
vaingloriously.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The muted felicity I have witnessed about my arrival is
explained, then,&rdquo; I ventured, &ldquo;Excitement that the
end is near and victory close at hand, yet that feeling subdued
by the realization that a period of deeper darkness must first be
gone through.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Your words are true,&rdquo; Wagner replied, &ldquo;And
yet I have a great confidence in our plans, which have been
matured through many years of careful deliberation. As the time
will never be more ready than at the present, in the present we
must act.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What is your plan, then?&rdquo; I asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It is calculated to end in the conquering of the Zards,
and as such, only an unexpected and unrelenting attack at the
very heart of their strength will succeed. Anything less will
only bring them to a full alert, and then any battle will have to
be drawn out with excessive casualties on both sides. Therefore,
we have decided upon an attack on Nunami, their capital city and
main strength, being the center and majority of both their
population and economy. Yet an outright siege of the city is
impossible for those very reasons, it being so self-contained
that it can resist bitterly, and its military is so clustered
that it can be brought into action almost instantly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Considering those problems, it was deemed necessary to
draw the Zards away from the city and destroy it in their
absence, so that they are left destitute of the means of war and
sustenance, and rendered weak. To do this, we have spent the last
several years stockpiling huge quantities of liquid fervidus
flamma, an extremely combustible substance. It is stored in an
underground reservoir in the foothills of the mountains,
connected via aqueduct to Lake Umquam Renatusum. When the time is
ripe, we will empty it into the lake and set it aflame, and our
calculations show the flames reaching a height of five miles for
a length of six hours, which should be enough to gain the
Zard&rsquo;s preponderance,&rdquo; Wagner explained.</p>

<p>&ldquo;But wouldn&rsquo;t it catch the forest on fire and burn
down your whole empire in the process?&rdquo; I asked, alarmed at
his apparent lack of vigilance.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We have been treating the trees on a ten mile radius
with an anti-flammatory solution for several years as well, and
it is quite impossible to set them on fire.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Which explains why you dared to have a fire pit in the
trunk of a tree outpost.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he laughed, &ldquo;We aren&rsquo;t so
foolhardy as we may seem. Appearances can be
deceiving.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;The exodus of the Zards from Nunami is almost
guaranteed by the mortal&rsquo;s natural curiosity and delight in
the calamities of others,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;But how do you
plan on leveling the town before the remnant raise the alarm and
the mass of the people return?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Atomic anionizers,&rdquo; he returned.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Which are what? They sound like they are beyond my
level of understanding.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; Wagner told me, &ldquo;Do not be
fooled by the technically complex sounding name. An atom is the
smallest form into which matter can be broken down into while
still retaining its identity, and an anion is a positively
charged ion, or in other words, an instance of an atom in which
there are more electrons than protons, resulting in a charge of
negative electricity. An atomic anionizer is just what its name
would imply: a device that morphs normal atoms into atoms with an
extreme negative charge by emitting massive amounts, to the tune
of many millions of moles, of solitary electrons into the air
through a bombing device.&rdquo;</p>

<p>He went on, explaining the consequences of the weapon,
&ldquo;An atom, and therefore all matter, which is made up of
atoms, is engaged in a constant revolution around the nucleus, in
the same way in which our solar system revolves around our sun,
and our sun around the black hole in the center of the galaxy.
This revolving motion is the basis for the formation of all
matter that we know of, both in its smallest form, like the atom,
or its larger forms, like the galaxy. The electrons emitted from
the atomic anionizer are drawn into an orbit around the nuclei of
the atoms of all the matter near which they are detonated, much
like the way planets catch satellites and space debris into
revolving rings around them. This addition of electrons gives the
atoms such a powerful negative charge that the poles of the atom,
which regulate its rotations in much the same way that the
earth&rsquo;s axis, or poles, regulate its rotations, are thrown
from their natural equilibrium, causing the poles to reverse.
This, in turn, changes the direction in which the atoms rotate,
and in the brief instant in which the force of the revolving
movement, or gravity, is not strong enough to retain the
atom&rsquo;s shape, it lapses, bringing the materials they make
up crashing down in disarray.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We will plant some of these &lsquo;atomic bombs&rsquo;
inside the city of Nunami, and when they go off, the buildings
themselves will implode and tumble to the ground. One hand-sized
capsule can easily level almost ten square miles, and we have
enough of them to bring the Zards to their knees, with plenty to
spare for any circumstance.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Wouldn&rsquo;t the bombs kill those who set them off,
though?&rdquo; I asked him anxiously.</p>

<p>&ldquo;We have electron deflecting suits that negate the
effects of the anionizers.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad to hear it.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;And well you should be,&rdquo; he grinned, which, as
out of place as it would seem, looked completely natural on his
countenance, &ldquo;For you and I shall be among the bombers. Our
meeting must end here, though, my dear Jehu, for we each have
things to attend to in preparation for the attack on Nunami. I
will see you soon, until then, farewell.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Farewell, Wagner,&rdquo; I replied, and we each stood
and bowed as we prepared to depart, each to our own
occupations.</p>

<p>With that our council ended, and, in the company of Bernibus,
I was sent to another area of the fortress to be measured for an
anti-electron suit, in order to protect me from the effects of
reverse revolution. We didn&rsquo;t converse in the beginning of
our walk, for my mind was too busy subconsciously thinking over
what Wagner had said to have any conscious meditations.</p>

<p>We walked through the fortress towards the northern section,
which held the technological rooms, so as to get an anti-electron
suit in the making for myself. Realizing that the fortress has
been little described, I will do so now. It was broken into six
different sub-divisions, each branching from the only entrance,
which was in the center of them all, the different divisions
connecting to it through long, narrow defiles, or gorges, like
the one at the entrance. This was for security, each area being
independently contained within the whole. The six areas, or
departments, as they were called, were as follows: the Northern
was the technological and industrial research and production
facilities; the Eastern was the residential department,
containing also the civil services, such as medical care and
distribution centers; the Southern was the agricultural and other
food production areas, though there was little besides
agricultural, for the Canitaurs were strict vegetarians; the
Western was for mining minerals and other raw materials to be
used by the other departments. The other two departments were
below the others, being differentiated between by the names Left
and Right, the Left being the governmental offices, and the Right
the military headquarters, providing protections both civil and
foreign (this was, incidentally, the beginning of the expression
of the terms Left and Right to denote ideological preferences,
but I digress). Uniform in all the fortress was the architecture,
it being a strange mix between elegant and gentle arches and
curves and brute practicality, for while the ceilings were high
and open, and the walls wide, they were rendered homely by their
plain surfaces and the absence of small triflings, conditions
that were necessitated because of its identity: an impregnable
fortress containing a highly organized and self-sufficient
governmental society, each citizen having a particular duty for
the common good, and each kept from an unfarcical personal
identity by the means of a statist society.</p>

<p>From the lower, governmental offices we went up a flight of
stairs that wrapped round and round a tower-like tunnel, and soon
reached the departmental portal. Once there, we took the northern
tunnel, which opened into a large hall that stretched on almost
endlessly, with hordes of tunnels branching off to the various
agencies. There were a great many Canitaurs working busily,
preparing for the attack on Nunami and its possible results,
which, though long prepared for, had a few last moment components
to be finished. Walking down the central through way, we went to
the far end of the hall, which, as it was a walk of at least two
miles, afforded plenty of time for observation and reflecting,
two things that I am naturally given to. Accordingly, I turned to
my companion, Bernibus, and offered in an almost philosophical
way:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Your society seems to be flourishing, though I am not
surprised, as you all seem vigorously industrious. I am amazed,
however, that no one shirks from their job, no matter how menial
or trifling.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;We all have our assigned jobs, and all know that one
slovenly job may cost us dearly,&rdquo; he said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I suppose I am prejudiced by my conceptions of personal
liberty, but it is contrary to my conscience that the state
should have more duty than to enforce the individual liberties by
common force.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;But we are at war, and we must do as we do, or be
trampled underfoot.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;If all states went no further than justice permits,
namely the protection by common force the rights of
individuality, liberty, and property, than there would be no room
for conflict between states, and hence, no war.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yet it is our ideologies that bring war, besides, do
not the ends justify the means?&rdquo; he asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Your ideologies may cause conflict, yet it seems that
your behemoth states facilitate it into war. About the ends and
the means, I don&rsquo;t know: I am no philosopher,&rdquo; I
answered.</p>

<p>I sighed and was silent for a moment as we walked along, then,
after a moment or so, I said quietly to myself, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
not much of a kinsman redeemer, either.&rdquo;</p>

<p>We continued on through the hall without further conversation,
and I paid little attention to my surroundings, so that while my
eyes saw and my mind displayed, my subconscious was not present
in the effort, and thereby no memory was retained. This may seem
to be the plot of an unimaginative writer to escape the use of
that faculty, but as these are nothing but my written memories,
and I make no claims of producing good fiction, I will leave that
hall primarily to the minds of the reader.</p>

<p>Soon after, we arrived at our destination, which was very
nearly at the end of the hall, and entered to find that we were
expected and a space open for my fitting, which was soon
accomplished, and my suit promised to be at my quarters the next
morning. That would be just in time for the departure of the
raiding party, which was set to cut out and embark for Nunami a
little after that, in order to be in place in the hidden treetop
posts surrounding the city before nighttime, as the operation was
to begin at midnight. At first I thought that the attack was
pushed forward in haste, but as I came to realize that my coming
had been prophesied and a great amount of time had been spent
preparing for this day, it seemed only natural that they should
want to bring the hostilities to a close after such a long time.
There were other considerations as well. The weather, for one,
had to be dry and not at all windy for the fire to be safely
attempted, and also the possibility of the Zards making the first
offensive could not be ignored, for they had knowledge of my
arrival and may have felt forced to act to prevent the very type
of thing that we were about to attempt.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 7: Down to Nunami</h3>

<p>When I awoke the next morning I found Bernibus and Wagner
conversing quietly in the corner of my bed chambers, and as I
first opened my eyes I saw Wagner looking at me with a blank,
glazed expression, while Bernibus&rsquo; was one of apprehension,
apparently on my behalf. It seemed odd to me, but as Wagner
became livid again quickly after his split-second lapse and gave
me a hearty &ldquo;Good morning&rdquo;, I thought nothing more of
it. After his greeting, he continued:</p>

<p>&ldquo;The day is ripe for victory, my friend, and the time is
come for battle. We both have some preparations to complete, and
so must separate, but we will meet again at noon in the entrance
hall. Farewell until then,&rdquo; and with that he quit the
room.</p>

<p>I looked at Bernibus, yet before either of us could speak, we
heard a low, hollow grumbling, like the shaking of some building
or foundation. He looked in my direction for a moment with an
alarmed countenance, before I said defensively, &ldquo;Tis but my
stomach.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Then we must get you some victuals,&rdquo; he laughed,
&ldquo;And I have just the thing to satisfy you and keep you so
for a day or more: some mirus. It is our traditional energy food,
for though its taste is bitter, its after-life is
pleasant.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;And what is food except a servant to the body?&rdquo; I
said, &ldquo;Let us eat.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he replied.</p>

<p>And eat we did, for it was brought by a food service Canitaur
on a tray, and I was surprised to see that it was a mixture of
broccoli, spinach, and mushrooms, with a flavorless, glowing
sauce. He was right, incidentally, for it was both bitter before
and pleasant after its consumption.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I know of the solids, but what is this sauce?&rdquo; I
asked of him.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Carbon&rdquo; he replied.</p>

<p>I looked at him and questioned, &ldquo;Pure carbon? I have
never heard of its having this use before.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Your civilization was long ago and had not developed it
yet.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That has perplexed me, now that you mention it,&rdquo;
I said, &ldquo;Onan seemed to mean that I was going back in time
to help my ancestors, but you say that I went forward, that I am
one of the ancients.&rdquo;</p>

<p>He was wary for a moment, though if it was because of the
apparent conflict, or because I was on a first name basis with
his god I couldn&rsquo;t tell. He soon recovered his countenance
and said, &ldquo;It is a complicated question, and I believe you
should ask Wagner the next time you see him, after the raid
though, of course. The time of departure is nigh now, however, so
you should put on your anti-electron suit,&rdquo; he said as he
picked it up from the corner and brought it to me.</p>

<p>It was a subtle dark brown and looked more like a normal suit
of clothes than an electron reflecting suit, but then again, I
thought, why would it be a strange looking apparatus? Why would
an advanced technological age necessarily be devoid of any sense
of fashion, although that would be assuming that any civilization
had ever had one. Fashion is more a characterization of a culture
than a basic and unchanging principle, for a desert people would
wear clothes that would be most uncomfortable to a people who
lived in the snow. Clothes may not make the man, but the man
certainly makes the clothes, and you can judge a person by what
they wear so far as it is in their power to decide what that
is.</p>

<p>After putting on the suit I found that it fit perfectly, and
above that, I found it to be very comfortable, including the head
piece, which formed closely around the skull and was not at all
noticeable or obscuring. In fact, as it was made of a plasma that
allowed everything through except lone particles, it was so
uninhibiting that a moment after I had put mine on I had
completely forgotten about it. The only other part of the suit
that stood out at all was the long, metallic buckle that secured
the belt, it having a bowie knife hidden within it in an
unnoticeable and inconspicuous manner. Bernibus had put on his as
I had put on mine, and as I looked away from the mirror that was
opposite the door, I saw him dressed the same as myself, yet
because the suit so blended with his fur, it was hard to tell
which ended where.</p>

<p>Finding that we were both ready, we repaired to the entrance
hall. Along the way I asked Bernibus of his wife, Wagner&rsquo;s
sister, of whom I had heard little and seen nothing. He was quiet
for a pause, and then said:</p>

<p>&ldquo;She was an angel, what else can be said?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Was?&rdquo; I asked hesitantly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, she was killed by the Zards on a border raid, as
we were at that time living apart from the Canitaur mass with a
few friends. She was less aggressive than her brother, and, much
to his disapprobation, we lived with a group of separatists,
believing that war, physical conflict, is never the right answer
to ideological conflict. Wagner excommunicated us in his anger,
though his sister was very dear to him, and after she died he was
struck with remorse and made me his deputy Kibitzer. He felt that
it would somehow do her honor, as it would recognize us as having
been married and make me his brother-in-law, which is an
important relationship traditionally, as he has no other
siblings. So here I am, technically second-in-command, but
because of my soft lining, I have no real command.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You would not attack Nunami, then?&rdquo; I asked.</p>

<p>He chose his words carefully, saying, &ldquo;More pain will
not negate the pain already in existence, yet war is not always
avoidable, and sometimes it is even necessary.&rdquo;</p>

<p>When we reached the entrance hall, where the raiding party was
to meet, we found that there was already assembled a majority of
the force, including Wagner. The party was only twenty strong, as
the atomic anionizers were to do the main work and the planned
raid required stealth and secrecy, not force or might. Within a
quarter of an hour all the stragglers had arrived and all the
anionizers were accounted for, so Wagner gave a short debriefing
to ensure that all the members were on the same page. We were to
sneak into the city when the populous was distracted by the fire
on Lake Umquam Renatusum, which was to be started at midnight. We
would plant the atomic anionizers at the right spacing so as to
bring down the whole city once we were escaped, using the remote
control provided for that very purpose. The suits would protect
us from the blasts, and, as a precaution, the remote had an
automatic five second delay between being pressed and exploding
the bombs, though it was more for form than practicality. After
he finished we set off, being arranged two abreast per row, there
being ten rows. Bernibus and myself were partners, for we had
become close friends in the few days that I had spent among the
Canitaurs, while Wagner was once again the leading guide and
Taurus the rearguard.</p>

<p>After crossing the chasm that separated the hall and the
entrance tunnel, we came to the long defile that formed the
latter and passed through it swiftly, the lofty archer guards
remaining as stern and immovable as when I had first come
through. We then came to the winding stairs that occupied the
hollowed innards of a massive and ancient tree, of which kind
many were to be found in Daem, being at least fifty feet thick
and 700 feet high, such gigantic trees that were never seen
elsewhere, yet constituted the whole forests of the northern
lands. I found that the stairs were as long as I had remembered,
taking us a great while to ascend to the top of the tree, and
when we had made it, we, especially myself, were dazzled by the
effulgent light of midday. After having been out of the
sun&rsquo;s reach for the last few days I was completely
unprepared, though the shock helped me by curing me of the
disillusionment that comes from not seeing sun, moon, or stars
for any length of time. Taking a rest for a few moments on the
seats on the platform, we collected our strength. After our brief
repose was completed, we set off again with renewed vigor across
the treeway on which I had first come to the Canitaur&rsquo;s
fortress. You will remember that the road was made by the
securing of five or six foot platforms to the intertwined
branches of those great trees, over which one could travel with
ease and be safe from exposure to those below by the thick
foliage that grew on the trees and was carefully manicured for
that very purpose.</p>

<p>Soon we reached the first platform I had seen, which we had
come upon from below, but we did not descend there, instead
keeping on by the treeway in the direction from which we had come
that night, that being southward, towards the lake, the savanna,
and the Zardovian capital, Nunami. The air was warm, with a
slight breeze as we went along, and that, mixed with the
plentiful flora about us and the songs of the treetop dwellers,
rendered the whole feeling of the walk peaceful and happy, though
its end was not to be such. I soon forgot the worldly concerns
that plagued me as I was soaking in the simplicity of nature, not
a simplicity of form, for all things are incomprehensively
complex, but simplicity of meaning.</p>

<p>After a time I began noticing changes in our surroundings that
indicated we were drawing nearer to our goal, namely, the trees
lessening in proportions, the terrain becoming flatter, and the
air growing moister and more vibrant. Still, the trees continued
to spring up from the ground like great earthen tentacles, for
while their size diminished, it was not by enough to change their
demeanor, the trees anywhere on Daem being great in size.</p>

<p>The sun journeyed with us, and by the time we reached Lake
Umquam Renatusum, twilight&rsquo;s last agony was being performed
in the heavenly theater, and the rippling waters mirrored it,
adding only a strange, flowing texture. The lake&rsquo;s current
caught my eye with its subtle oddity, for it was amiss and it
appeared upon close inspection that there was an undertow, as if
there was an underground river flowing into the lake and bringing
about its swirling currents.</p>

<p>Bernibus saw me looking down at the waters from the lofty road
with a puzzled look, and asked me if I was wondering about the
water&rsquo;s current. I replied that I was, and he told me that
it was the fervidus flamma being pumped into the lake through the
underground aqueducts, which, of course, was for the purpose of
igniting it to decoy for our raid. Once it was explained it made
sense, yet I looked at it anyway, for it was still a gorgeous and
inspiring view.</p>

<p>We were moving quickly, however, and it soon was out of sight,
and I again turned towards our destination with apprehensions of
failure. They seemed to place great faith in my presence, as the
emissary of Onan, and while I was, I was also Jehu, and I
wasn&rsquo;t confident with my own abilities. But it was upon
those the situation mostly rested, it being the resolve of the
gods after the Homeric period to take a more removed role in the
lives of men. I wonder how many from my own times were divine
agents, for better or worse. Either way, my main concern then was
making the correct decisions, for I rightly believed that my
involvement would decide the matter, although not in the manner I
had anticipated. As I looked about myself to reconnoiter the
feelings of my comrades I was fruitless, for they all wore
impermeable countenances, though that was itself an indicator of
their resolve.</p>

<p>Within an hour after the fall of darkness we reached the
outskirts of Nunami, or rather, its edge, for it was walled in
with massive stone walls and battlements, with a sturdy gate of
twenty foot width being placed at the northern, southern,
eastern, and western ends. The trees hung right over the walls,
and as such we were able to take positions from which we could
descend into the city when the time to do so came. Yet we were
still rendered invisible by the thick foliage.</p>

<p>Night&rsquo;s zenith blew in slowly on the wind like the
belabored breaths of a dying man, and after a period of worry, it
came: midnight, the appointed hour. No sooner had the moon
reached its utmost height, shrouding the lands in a shadowless
vortex, than a great blaze erupted from the northern lands, and
it rose almost instantly to its estimated height of five miles.
It was a terrible sight to behold, for any flame is a captivating
display of inorganic life, but a pillar of flame several miles
high is more than just an enlarged specimen, for it plays host to
a great horde of phantasmal apparitions that wrestle ferociously
with one another. As the flame shot upwards it cast a great light
down on everything that rivaled the illumination of midday. At
first I feared lest the light should show our silhouettes to the
Zards, as we were between them and it, but it did not, or at
least they took no notice of it if it did, for we were quite
undetected in our hiding place.</p>

<p>Our worries were far from over though, for now came the
crucial point in our plans: in order for our small force to
infiltrate the city and place the atomic anionizers, the Zards
must not only have been distracted and preoccupied with the
blaze, but they had also to leave the city almost empty and go to
the lake itself, for if a cry was raised, or any substantial
resistance attempted, the complex procedures to detonate the
anionizers properly, so as to level the city but not the
surrounding country, may have been hindered. There were several
factors on our side though, the element of surprise being the
foremost, for in their excitement the Zardovian resistance would
likely mistake us for a regular sized army and flee in fear at
our supposed superiority, especially since the presence of me,
the kinsman redeemer, was known to the Zards. Also, the Zards
were known to be curious and careless and ruled by the desire for
excitement, meaning that if an entertaining undertaking was
possible, they would pursue it, no matter how dangerous or
ill-advised.</p>

<p>Within a moment after the flame was lit, all of the Zards
outside, which were many, were gazing with silent wonder at it,
and in the second moment, all the rest had joined them in their
confused contemplation. But the third moment witnessed a drastic
change in their behavior, for their initial bewilderment wore off
and suddenly, with a united prelude of the drawing in of a
breath, they all began speaking at once, resulting in a clamorous
din that lasted for a few moments, before things hushed again and
we could hear a few individual voices discussing loudly. Though
we couldn&rsquo;t make out their exact words, they were
apparently conferring with one another about what action to take.
Our breathing became slow and heavy and our brows were knit
tensely, for we knew that the fate of our mission rested on what
they did then, whether or not the long planned decoy would
work.</p>

<p>It was an anxious moment, and one with a heavy burden attached
to it. Fortunately, though, as our fate was decided, it was done
so in our favor, for the Zards began exiting the city in a great
multitude of scales that swept along the savanna like a tidal
wave over a sandy coast. They came out fast and strong, and
through each of the four gates, though only the northern was
fully visible to us, the others being too far to be seen
distinctly. Still, we could see them rushing out of Nunami at a
quick pace, not hurried, as if frightened or finicky, nor slow as
in deliberation and meditation, instead it was a steady trot that
they took, allowing them to move safely and swiftly.</p>

<p>The tide of Zards swept steadily past us, and it was a good
half an hour later that the final ones had left the gates and the
city far behind. Most had taken some type of weapon, a pitchfork
or club or occasionally a sword, for the threat of war was a
constant, but none of them had any idea that their only danger
was behind them. It was not all in the clear though, for a patrol
of guards equipped with long spears and clothed with a tough,
leathery armor were making their way to and fro along the tops of
the walls, where there was a platform of about five feet across
that served as a road to the soldiers in their watches. It was
evident by their countenances, though, that the guards now on
duty were more interested in the fire than in their immediate
vicinity, thinking, no doubt, that the laurels were to be won
there and not at Nunami, and as such, they paid little heed to
the walls, instead walking with their necks craned precariously
to the north.</p>

<p>We were able to jump unto the wall silently from our concealed
roost on the treeway when the nearest patrol had passed by. From
there we went along the wall a short way until we came to a
battlement, there taking the downward leading steps that brought
us to the ground. Once there we were pleased and hopeful at what
we saw: everything was abandoned, and no Zards were in sight save
those on the walls, whose gaze was cast elsewhere. We set to
work, then, according to our preset plan, which was to break up
into groups of two and cover the city with our atomic anionizers,
so as to spread the destruction as evenly as possible. Wagner and
myself were partners, and we took the central district, near the
government&rsquo;s center, the palace, and the Temple of Time,
which rose above the city like a great tree amidst a desert. It
was, in fact, the very structure that had so stood out to me
during my journey through the prairie upon my arrival, and once
again its sobering sensation struck me, and I found myself
staring up at its top, a full 800 feet high, the bottom being an
ornate and elaborate temple. The middle, which supplied most of
its height, was a long, round tower, and at top there was a
spherical pinnacle which had what looked to be a room in it.</p>

<p>Wagner soon called my attention back to our work, and we
busied ourselves with planting a bomb at the base of the palace,
using a smaller type anionizer, which, I noticed, was set just
right so that while all of Nunami would be leveled, the temple
with its great tower would be beyond the impact and left
standing. Just as we had set it correctly, we heard a
high-pitched whistle, which was the preconcerted signal among the
raiders to use if any danger was nigh. We looked up directly and
saw its reason: a squadron of Zards had been garrisoned inside
the palace and had not left like the others, apparently because
its sole purpose was to protect their king, who did not leave the
city, being preoccupied with business and not seeing the flames.
When he did go to the window, he saw the fire, and rushed to see
what was about, but instead of finding out, he ran into us, who
were right outside the palace.</p>

<p>Wagner dashed wildly through the streets in an impressive show
of dexterity, and did a wall-jump between two lofty buildings to
gain the wall. The others had done likewise, having been trained
by a lifetime of conflict to have nerves of lightning speed and
earthly strength. Their instincts had come in subconsciously when
they had seen the cause of the alarm and they escaped, without
thinking of me in the critical moment. I lacked such strength and
speed of mind and was caught as soon as I had seen the squadron,
aided, probably, by the fact that upon seeing me the king had
become excited and rushed at me with great speed. When Wagner had
first turned around and saw me their prisoner, he looked
crestfallen and hopeless, for he had no way to rescue me. He held
the remote control for the atomic anionizers in his hand and was
about to set them off and make good the plan, but before he
could, our eyes met for an instant, and we connected beyond time
and space, experiencing a strange intra-personal deja vu. All was
silent and still in that instant, and I saw him struggling
inwardly: would he detonate the anionizers and make good his long
awaited plan, or would he retreat and leave the city unharmed,
for though I was wearing the electron reflecting suit, the
collapse of all the high rise buildings would litter the ground
with debris from them, and all on the ground would be crushed.
Would he spare me from death, or his people? In that instant his
face spoke more than many others&rsquo; do in their entire
lifetime. It was cut through with a contrasting countenance, and
yet inside of his eyes there was something foreign to them
shining through, something that I had never seen on his fretless
features before: evil intent. I could not tell if it was natural
to them and simply well hidden, or if it was an alien expression,
but it was fearfully expressed, and his eyes seemed to say, even
at that great distance, that he took a third course, that he
would save me, but not for my sake, instead for his
peoples&rsquo;. And then it passed, for he looked away, replaced
the remote to his belt, and leapt to the ground, where the other
Canitaurs were awaiting him. I saw him no more until the
situation was much changed.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 8: The Temple of Time</h3>

<p>I turned slowly away from where Wagner had disappeared over
the side of the wall and faced my captors, the Zards. Chief among
them was the King, he being a foot or two taller than the others,
with a graceful and powerful pose that struck awe into the eyes
of the beholder with its innate command and dignity, both of
which flowed from it as naturally as water from a well. There
were about twenty guards in the squadron that protected the King,
but it was not so much from the terror of them that the Canitaurs
fled, nor was it because of the guards that patrolled the walls
and were sure to join any fray attempted, it was instead an
apparent fear of the King, and rightly so, for his demeanor was
fierce and sophisticated, as if he were not just a warrior nor
solely a scholar, but a mixture of the two that gave him an aura
that inspired fear, some unseen presence that filled the air
around him and sent his neighbors into a reverencing awe
reminiscent of a lover&rsquo;s sacred euphoria, intangible yet
undeniable.</p>

<p>As I turned to him, he smiled and greeted me softly and
pleasantly, in such a way that seemed contrary to his nature.
Instead of being terrible and glorious like the crash of thunder
or the din of waves, his voice was melodious, subtly so, like a
soft summer rain affecting the dreams of a slumbering child as it
falls gently on his face. There was a rhythm that ran through it,
like poetry, yet not like average poetry, where the rhythm is
forced and the lines deformed to its ungainly warble, but like
heavenly poetry, where the rhythm is beyond the conscious and
into the subconscious, where it inspires a feeling of quaint
remembrance of itself, as if it were there and not there at the
same time. And while it was soft and pleasant, it was not
feminine, for it was a strong baritone, reinforced by its own
superiority and strengthened by its wit and sobriety.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Greetings, o&rsquo; chosen one,&rdquo; he said to me,
&ldquo;I see that you have arrived safely.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, quite soundly,&rdquo; I replied, a little taken
aback on two fronts: firstly that he was not angry or indignant
that I had attempted to destroy his kingdom and take his life in
the process, and secondly that he seemed to expect me, as if I
were his midday tea partner.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am glad, for I would wish you no harm, though your
Canitaurian friends obviously felt no such concern. But just as
well, for they always were unpredictable. I&rsquo;m sorry that
there is no one here at the moment, or we should have a great
welcoming parade for our newly arrived kinsman redeemer, but they
are off at the lake, inspecting the fire I suppose. I must admit
it caught me off guard for a moment or two, and at first I was
actually quite surprised. I soon remembered, though, that our
friends the Canitaurs would have gotten some notions in their
heads of a battle, at your arrival. It must be a grand sight in
any case, and not one to miss.&rdquo;</p>

<p>I gave him a strange look, for I was a bit confused myself at
the attitude he donned towards me, very friendly, as was Wagner,
as I recalled, though it seemed as contrary to his nature as it
did to the King&rsquo;s. He saw the expression of my eyes, and
seemed to read right through my thoughts and see my apprehension
of punishment, for he beckoned to his guards to leave us alone.
They moved quickly and uniformly, a well-trained unit, and
positioned themselves in a line formation along the street. The
King and I then strolled down their midst, they walking along
with us at a distance of a few yards, which was all that the
closely built buildings would permit. In a moment or two we
reached the Temple of Time, which was on the far side of a large
square plaza that opened up between it, the palace, and the
government center. Once we reached it, he led me inside and the
guards took up post around its outside.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You need not fear,&rdquo; he told me when we were
alone, &ldquo;You are among friends here. You see, the Canitaurs
were not the only ones waiting for a kinsman redeemer, the Zards
were as well. That day that you were seen going into the
Canitaur&rsquo;s outpost was a big disappointment for us, I had
almost begun to think that you were beyond our reach. I am sure
you know all about the conflict between us, and the circumstances
of your time that brought its beginning about?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, I do,&rdquo; I responded as we walked through the
great entry hall of the temple, lined with bookshelves and a rich
red carpeting. He was silent for another moment as we crossed
into another room that led to a chamber with a long table in its
center and a great many statues and works of art scattered
throughout its whole. There was an altar at the far end, built
into a giant statue of a White Eagle that graced the entire wall,
it holding the altar in its giant claws.</p>

<p>He saw me look at it and told me, &ldquo;This is the Hall of
Time, and that is the altar to Temis, the God of Time. It is a
very sacred place, to both us and the Canitaurs, for it was built
by Temis himself, before the race of man inhabited the earth. By
the time any men came to live on Daem, it had been buried by the
dirt and debris of thousands of years, but when the Great War
took place, the shock uncovered it and revealed it to men, a sort
of revelation that came only as it was needed the most.
Daem&rsquo;s war started over the control of it, and to a point
still is. To a certain extent is has helped us greatly, since the
Canitaurs are afraid to lay siege to us in the regular fashion,
for fear that it will be laid to ruin, and then our fate sealed
in flesh and bone as well as earth and stone. But come, there is
something I want to show you,&rdquo; he told me.</p>

<p>With that he started over to a door in the wall adjacent to
the entrance, which, as there were only two doors, was the only
other exit. It led to a long, winding stair that went up to the
top of the tower that I had seen from below. We walked up it in
silence, more from awe of its magnificent construction on my part
than fatigue in climbing its steep stairs, which wound on and on
almost indefinitely. There were no windows in the tower, and only
a few paintings to liven up the sparsely decorated walls, yet
they needed no adornments, for they were beautifully constructed
from a strange stone that split and colored in a marvelous
twisting pattern.</p>

<p>At last we came to the top. It was much like it had appeared
to be from below, for it was a large glass sphere that sat on the
tower, like the dome on top of a light pole. It was divided in
two, and the stairs went right through the bottom half and opened
into a circular foyer that then had a small flight of stairs
running up to the main room. There were little closets and such
in the empty spaces on the bottom floor. The upper room was a
good thirty feet in diameter, and the walls and ceiling were all
made of glass, very sturdy and insulating, yet completely
transparent. On the floor was an odd carpet that was smooth and
thin, like a silk or fine linen, yet very strong. There was a
rounded table on the side of the entrance hole opposite the
stairs, and a curved couch that sat against the wall behind it,
cut perfectly to its circular outline. Two cushioned chairs sat
at the table and a small end table leaned up against the couch,
on top of which there was a medium sized spyglass, that is, a
telescope.</p>

<p>The sun was just coming up and shining its golden hues on the
surrounding lands, which were beginning to darken as the fires of
Lake Umquam Renatusum died down to a faint glow in the center of
the forests of the near-north. It was the first time that I had
gotten a bird&rsquo;s eye view of Daem, and I was amazed at its
beauty. The plains stretched on one side of Nunami like a broad
field of gold in the morning light, its dew drizzled grasses
waving in a solemn and dignified manner to and fro like the
constant beating of the earth&rsquo;s heart, and when looked upon
abstractly it moved as if one great beast of benevolence, holding
itself in unison as it chorused back the silent tones of life.
Its edges draped down to the ocean like a curtain of woven
sunlight on the eastern and southern sides of the island of Daem,
and on the western side of Nunami the great forest came up right
to its edge. There was a little of the forest between the ocean
and the city on that side, while to the north there was a great
stretch of trees, all the way until the ocean again came into
sight in the far, far north. On the ground the trees of Daem
seemed like mighty towers and battlements of nature, and on the
treeway one felt suspended in air hundreds of feet above the
ground on a cloud of green and growing foliage, but from afar and
above they were revealed in their true splendor, shooting up from
the earth as if they were the arms of the ground itself, grasping
huge clusters of leaves and branches far above in their tightened
fists. Some way into the forest, the ground sprang up into
mountains that were as fierce and behemoth as the trees that
clothed them. They were terrible to the eye and mind, as
evidences of the power that exists outside of oneself.</p>

<p>The city of Nunami was also revealed to me for the first time
in depth. As I have said, it was surrounded by a thick, tall wall
made of stones and precious jewels, with four gates, one at the
furthest extreme in each direction. It was a circular city, made
mostly of the same materials as the wall and temple, which were a
plain, silvery stone; a dark rock with inherent patterns; a
mixture of cobblestone and a colorful compositor rock; and a vast
array of metals, everything from brass to silver to platinum.
Made in an ancient style, the buildings were tall, the average
being what was equivalent to at least a dozen or two stories in
the pre-desolation times, and they were close together, built
along roads paved with cobblestone and lined with trees whose
girth, though not as monstrous as those in the wild, was still
great. There were farm fields and vineyards and orchards and
meadows for grazing animals all within the city walls, and not
just congregated around the outside, for there were buildings all
around the wall&rsquo;s perimeter, but scattered among the other
buildings in a natural and pleasing way. In the southern part
there was a lake that was of fair size, and a fleet of fishing
boats anchored at its shore showed that it did its part to
contribute to the city&rsquo;s well-being. Several of the trees
throughout the city were especially conspicuous in their
grandeur, for they rose hundreds of feet from the ground and had
great waterfalls flowing down from their tops, as if they were
crying great torrents of tears down from their aged faces, though
if in sadness or joy, I couldn&rsquo;t tell.</p>

<p>To the east there was land visible from the height at which I
found myself, though in the distance it became hazy and I could
not make out its distinct features. It was evidentially
corrupted, however, for it had an uneasy look about it, as did
the ocean, which was a faint, pale shadow of the rich blue it was
in my childhood days. The sky as well was tainted, and it looked
to be filled with the accumulated atrocities of countless
generations. The clouds were thick and bluish, and the spherical
mural of the sky itself had been greatly dried, cracked, and
crumbled since my time, for it bore the marks of pain, the marks
of the labor pains of the earth&rsquo;s last gestating doom. And
well they should, I thought, for in the years since my natural
life it had seen much suffering and much destruction.</p>

<p>The King broke the silence, saying, &ldquo;Lovely, isn&rsquo;t
it, Jehu? And it is all yours for the taking.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What do you mean,&rdquo; I asked him.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Exactly what I said, the whole world is yours, if you
want it.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;But how?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;All you have to do is join us, the Futurists, and we
will reward you with all the power and glory that you can
imagine.&rdquo;</p>

<p>At that I sobered up and replied, &ldquo;But what of Onan, of
my quest to stop the doom of humanity from materializing in this
final juncture. He is the one who sent me, and he is the Lord of
the Past, whom the Canitaurs follow. I am his agent, why would I
turn from him to serve mere mortals?&rdquo;</p>

<p>He laughed a slight, sarcastic laugh, &ldquo;Tell me, Jehu, to
whom did he send you, your ancestors or your
offspring?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;To my ancestors,&rdquo; I said slowly, &ldquo;Though
the Canitaurs seemed to imply that my time was long ago. To be
candid, I do not understand.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Of course you do not understand, and how could you,
when no one has told you? You see, Jehu, the question of time is
not so linear as you would think. You know full well that the
conflict between the Zards and Canitaurs is over how to address
the renewing of the earth: they would send you, our kinsman
redeemer, back into time to prevent the nuclear wars, while we
would send you to the future to bring back its completion. They
hold to traditions as if they were the foundation of life, while
our people have no traditions in the traditional sense, if I may
use that oxymoronic phrase, but we look to what will come instead
of what has passed. History is unimportant to the present, Jehu,
because we have advanced to the point that we do not make the
same mistakes as our ancestors. In the past, they waged war
needlessly and did so in the name of humanitarian deeds. But
today, we are advanced enough that we use peaceful and just means
to reach our ends. In your day there were many absurd beliefs,
for example the so-called &lsquo;fats&rsquo; that were so
vehemently avoided, are actually quite healthy, while on the
other hand, protectionism and socialism are quite absurd ideas,
and yet they were held dear. But today we have no such
presuppositions, today we understand the world and know justice
where your society knew only its shadows. We do not need to be
bound by the mistakes of yesterday, for we have the enlightenment
of today, and while the Canitaurs cling to the old time&rsquo;s
ways, we have progressed to the point where we have no need of
such traditions.&rdquo;</p>

<p>He continued, &ldquo;It may seem to you foolish to follow
Zimri instead of Onan, because Onan&rsquo;s realm has already
been established and grows greater everyday, while Zimri&rsquo;s
doesn&rsquo;t exist and never will, but you miss a very important
point in the understanding of these matters. For, as you probably
know, time and matter are the foundations of physical existence,
and while the two components are independent, they are also
parallel. Matter is always revolving, from its simplest form in
the atom to its greatest in the universe, everything is revolving
and rotating. So is time. Imagine time as a galaxy, revolving
continually around the black hole at its center, that is, an
enigma that is actually devoid of all matter. Time is revolving
around a great enigma as well, which is devoid of time, that
enigma being eternity. Eternity is not a place where there is
infinite time, but rather a place where there is simply no time,
it is the counter-part in the temporal realm of a black hole in
the material realm. And just as a galaxy in the material realm
revolves around the black hole at its center, in the temporal
realm, the flow of time itself revolves around eternity. That
means that time repeats itself over and over again, just as on
earth a year is the amount of time it takes the earth to revolve
around the sun once, in the temporal realm, an age is the amount
of time that it takes the time continuum to revolve once around
eternity. Just as every year the climate on the earth is similar,
every particular day having its usual temperature and weather,
and every general period having the same seasons, so is time.
While every age is completely new and original, they all follow
the same pattern, and through every age the same general events
happen, though a few of the small details change from one time to
the next.</p>

<p>&ldquo;So you see, it is true that Onan sent you to both the
past and the future of your original time. The Pastites would say
that you were sent forward in time, because you existed in our
past, while the Futurists would say that you were sent backwards
in time because you existed in our future. While this would seem
an unimportant question, it is not, for we have to choose one or
the other. You, the kinsman redeemer have to choose one or the
other. That is why you were sent, you have to decide. Our fate
must be decided by a mortal because the gods have vowed to never
interfere directly in our ways again. You must decide, Jehu, for
you hold the fate of humanity in your hands: in all the other
ages before us, the wrong decision was made, and every time some
great calamity came that somehow threw the earth into a great ice
age that destroyed all life for many millenniums. We know that
the wrong decision was made, but we cannot tell what it was that
was done. Tell me Jehu, will you join the Futurists? Surely you
can see that the Pastites are just that, stuck in the past, with
their obsession with traditions and legends. They are of the
past, but we are of the future, we are the progressive ones. Dear
Jehu, choose the future, and when the earth is spared from the
great impending doom, we will set you up as ruler of the world to
show our gratitude. Will you join us, friend?&rdquo; he asked me
with the most entreating eyes, though of somewhat doubtful
sincerity.</p>

<p>There was a deathly silence that followed, for I was thinking
long and hard about what I should do, until at last I spoke,
&ldquo;Your majesty, I am afraid that I will have to turn you
down and remain with the Pastites. Onan sent me, and it is Onan
whom I shall follow.&rdquo;</p>

<p>The King shook his head and sighed dejectedly, for a moment he
looked disheartened and crestfallen, but then he again resumed
his former prideful pose and said to me, less humbly and
entreating than before, &ldquo;Very well, I was afraid that you
would do that. I have no choice now but to keep you here
indefinitely as a prisoner, until such time as you realize the
error of your ways and repent. It may seem improper to refuse the
decision of the kinsman redeemer, but I must, for I will not
allow my people to be destroyed by your ignorance.&rdquo;</p>

<p>With that he turned and walked quickly down the stairs to the
door, turning to me just as he reached it and adding with an
almost spiteful intonation, &ldquo;But then again, what clarity
of mind can be expected from someone from the unenlightened
past.&rdquo; He then left the room, closing the door with a
powerful thud, after which I heard a small metallic click and his
strong, commanding footsteps fading down the long stairway. As
soon as the sound had died away and he was no more to be heard, I
ran down to the door and tried to open it, but to no avail, for
it was locked. There was no way to escape: I was a prisoner of
the Zards.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 9: Mutually Assured Deception</h3>

<p>The light of the newborn sun rose that instant far enough
above the horizon to shine directly into the tower&rsquo;s upper
dome-like room, and I was awe struck by the texture that the
lights created on the glass of the walls, for when it shone
through at just the right height, a previously invisible picture
came to view. It was of a towering clipper ship with sails that
stretched across their masts like skin over the bones of a
pleasantly plump fellow, the wind billowing them about at a
leisurely rate. Waves broke gently upon the ship&rsquo;s side as
the crew rested peacefully on the various cables and nets, all
except for the one-legged captain who was busy looking at the map
and accompanying charts. It was a quaint and beautiful scene,
though it soon passed away as the sun moved upwards in the sky,
and I wouldn&rsquo;t have mentioned it, except that as it
disappeared, I found myself looking at where it had been, but
instead of the ship, I saw directly through the glass the
inhabitants of Nunami arising and beginning their daily business,
a scene which I might have missed since I was previously wholly
absorbed by the picturesqueness of the sky.</p>

<p>Usually the Zards would arise before dawn and be about their
business, but because of the great flames of the night before,
they had no doubt had trouble sleeping, and therefore slept later
than usual when they finally did fall into the lands beyond
consciousness. They hustled and bustled about the streets of
Nunami, each doing their own business, and there was much
business to be done in a city in which all provisions are
provided internally, with no trade or commerce outside
whatsoever. There were merchants and stores still, yet they were
not traders but producers, each making their own wares as they
sold ones they had already made. Butchers sat in their shops with
their blood-stained aprons already donned, cobblers and tailors
were busy with the day&rsquo;s repairs and new creations, the
milkmen paraded the streets slowly and methodically, somehow
getting their products to the citizens before 8 AM. The farmers
and herdsmen were also at work in the fields that were spread
throughout the city, plowing and sowing, and being joined by
those who had just finished distributing the milk.</p>

<p>All was commonplace and normal, I thought, and I was
surprised, for the Zards were not at all martially minded, a
great contrast to their Canitaurian brethren. Of course, I had
never actually met any of the Canitaurian commoners. It seems to
me that the only ones who really are martially minded are the
leaders and politicians, everyone else seems to mind their own
business, and sometimes I wonder if there would even be any wars
if there weren&rsquo;t any governments with the power to wage
one. There was a group of Zards by the government center, which
was close to my involuntary quarters, and they were leaning over
an opening in the aqueduct that ran down into the lake in the
southern section of the city, branching off from there into all
the various sectors. They were dumping a barrel of a fine, white
powder into the water that was running down into the lake, and
after the first had been poured in, they added another and
another until they had put a good five barrels into the water
source. Once they had finished, they took the empty barrels to a
large cage that was down the road a bit, inside of a small grove
of trees and shrubs. Inside the cage was a multitude of little
beetles that crawled around every which way and were evidentially
feasting on a large chunk of glowing material. For a moment I was
surprised, and wondered what it was they were doing, but then it
hit me: they were the delcator beetles that Bernibus had told me
of earlier, the ones that absorbed the radioactive material and
stabilized it. As I learned later, they had two good uses, one
was that they consumed the unstable materials and neutralized
them, but the other was that their droppings, when mixed into the
water supply, also gave all that consumed them a greater
tolerance for nuclear material. It was almost ironic that their
whole way of life was dependent on the feces of another life
form, but I will refrain from turning it into a metaphor.</p>

<p>The female Zards wore a black headpiece that mostly covered
their faces, and at first I found it strange that for all his
talk of progress, the King&rsquo;s people still oppressed their
women, perhaps there wasn&rsquo;t as much progress as he had
boasted, or, more likely, he was unaware that there was no such
thing as progress, just different manifestations of oppression.
History repeats itself, they say, and indeed it does, both
literally and figuratively.</p>

<p>There suddenly arose a great commotion in the square between
the Temple and the palace, and as I looked, I was surprised to
see that there was a large crowd gathered. In the middle of the
square there were two groups of ten Zards facing each other, with
a single Zard in between them, and around the outside of the
plaza area stood a hundred or so spectators, apparently watching
those in the middle. A moment after I started watching, the
solitary Zard, the referee as I found out, walked to the edge,
and each of the groups walked to one of the opposing sides and
then turned about to face the other. The referee let out a loud
yell and in a flash, the two teams ran at each other headlong,
until converging somewhere in the center of the field. As they
met they dived upon one another and pushed and shoved until the
left team had isolated one of the right&rsquo;s players, who was
the only one on his team wearing an orange jersey. They dived on
him and jumped until the whole field was piled high with them,
and then they slowly began to disembark. Once all of the opposing
team&rsquo;s players were off of the orange shirted Zard, all was
silent and still as the referee held his hand aloft and began
counting with his fingers. Everyone held their breathe and stood
tensely by as they watched. Just before the referee&rsquo;s tenth
and final finger was counted, the orange shirted player rose from
the ground, amidst the screams of joy from his team and about
half of the crowd, apparently their fans. The two teams then
returned to their respective sides, and again the referee yelled
loudly, signaling them to rush at each other once more, and more
of the same ensued, this time it being the other team&rsquo;s
orange shirted player to get pounced on. Once again there was a
high pile on top of him, and once again, as they crawled off and
he was exposed, the referee began to count. Except that this time
the orange shirted one never got up. The other team cheered again
and so did the other half of the crowd. The referee went to a
pole on the sidelines and put up the number &lsquo;1&rsquo; on it
while a few bystanders picked the Zard up and carried him off the
field. They continued to play in this fashion for awhile, going
until one team or the other had no longer any players to be
jumped upon, but I was too disgusted at their violent nature to
watch, and instead walked over to the end table and picked up the
telescope, taking back as I did my thoughts about the innocence
and gentleness of the common folk.</p>

<p>With the telescope in hand I went over to the eastern side of
the room and began to closely inspect the savanna in an attempt
to get a bird&rsquo;s eye view of the point of my entrance in
Daem. It looked rather the same from above as it did from below,
though the smells and sounds were missing, and I found that it
was rather bland once the initial excitement, surprise, and
respect of its novelty had worn off. Indeed, it was quite too
dull for me, even in my state of boredom as a prisoner, though I
suppose that that isn&rsquo;t a proper description of my
feelings, for I wasn&rsquo;t free from excitement or intriguing
events, but rather, I was in the middle of a campaign of new and
anticipated things, but simply unable to participate. Stuck in a
room 800 feet from the ground with walls of glass that allowed
observation of the whole island of Daem, which I assumed to be
the only civilization in the world, while great events unfolded
around me, of which I was supposed to be the primary actor, was
very disconcerting, though I find in retrospect that fate worked
so mysteriously in my situation that it is quite puzzling to
think about, meaning, of course, my relationship with the doom of
humanity as preventer and provoker, as savior and condemner.</p>

<p>My writing of this manuscript may be considered quite a big
cheat, as it details my direct involvement with Onan, the Lord of
the Past, and the general circumstances of the end of life on
earth, for the current age at least, but still I am allowed to
write it. Onan told me just a few moments ago that I could write
it and tell all that I want, to which I was taken aback. When I
asked why he would allow me to break the law of the council of
the gods, he replied that there was no rule against a human agent
from detailing his involvement in the actions of the divines. It
was allowed, he told me, because it would never make a mite of a
difference, for even if it were able to survive the bitter ice
ages and all the evolutionary periods in this TAB (Temporal
Anomaly Box, which I will explain later, since I get ahead of
myself and have not told of them yet), and even if it is found by
humans, and even if they are capable of understanding the text
contained within it, even then they will take no gain from it. I
was again taken aback when he said this, for though I know humans
to be stubborn and foolish, in general, I would think that they
would at least mind the warning when the conditions of its
completion came to pass. But he dissuaded me, telling me that my
coevals of the next age would no doubt take it as a novel.</p>

<p>At this I took your defense quite personally upon myself, and
demanded in as not so humble a tone as would be thought proper,
though as I am about to die within the next day or two, I have to
admit that I don&rsquo;t give much of a damn for politics or
manners. And yet, with all my ardor I was quickly subdued by a
curt rebuke by my interlocutors (for Zimri was there as well),
which was, quite simply, that you hadn&rsquo;t taken Homer for
any more than a creative poet, even after a few thousand years of
study, so why should my meager manuscript make such a large
impact. At that, I acquiesced to them and admitted that on that
end my attempt to save humanity one way or another was
contemptible, but I still write, as you see, for the
story&rsquo;s sake, and possibly for my own material immortality.
But never mind that, for it is high time that I went back to my
story.</p>

<p>I was looking through the spyglass at the various areas of
Daem where my adventures had so far taken me. After I had
examined them all for a few moments, I felt a strange urge to use
the telescope to look closely at the mainland that I had seen
before, to see what the effects of the Great War had been there.
As I turned the telescope&rsquo;s sights toward it, I was at once
surprised and flabbergasted at what caught my eye. There were
living beings on the mainland, not too far from the coast. And
not only that, but they were standing upright, though stooped, as
if by weariness and the wiles of life, and they seemed, in
general, to resemble humans, not directly, but as much as the
Zards and Canitaurs did, and with the effects of the radioactive
instability greater on the mainlands, it would seem natural that
they would be further removed from normality than those on Daem.
The land itself was barren and flat, with sparse vegetation in
the forms of small, deformed shrubs and a short, weak looking
grass. As I looked closer I saw that there were about six of the
strange, stooped humanoids, and they were gathering the fruits of
some of the shrubs for consumption. In a few moments they
finished their task and began to walk further inland, and I
followed their progress with interest until they finally
disappeared behind some of the small plateaus that were scattered
here and there among the wastelands.</p>

<p>Putting the telescope down, I walked over to the couch and
laid down on it, with indignation filling my every move, for I
was almost enraged that the Zards and Canitaurs both should fail
to tell me, whom they claimed to respect as kinsman redeemer and
whose decisions would seal their fate for good or ill, that there
were other survivors from the Great Wars. I was also shocked by
their selfishness, for while they fought pettily amongst
themselves over how they would change their lands for the better,
a seemingly important question about past and future, they
completely ignored the sufferings of other humanoids, to whom
their way of living no doubt seemed like a paradise. But there
they were, stuck across the sea on their desolate lands, unable
to cross to Daem and enjoy its plentiful resources and luxuries,
yet not at all unaware of them, for as they labored in their
hopeless ways, they could see Daem shining like a heavenly vision
before them, one which they were not able to touch or grasp, but
instead one that must infuriate them to no end in their heart, at
the knowledge of fate&rsquo;s unfairness and their utter
hopelessness and complete poverty, not because of their laziness
or their ignorance or anything involving their actions
whatsoever, but simply because they had been born on the wrong
side of the sea.</p>

<p>At that moment I was embittered against both the Zards and the
Canitaurs for their selfishness and their pretensions of
morality. There is no morality where one sees another starving
and suffering and does not help, when one sees a whole race of
people living on a land where nothing but sorrows dwell, but will
not let them share the wealth that was given one by no doing of
oneself. There is no morality in selfishness, and when I saw
those wretched people, I no longer felt like redeeming those on
Daem from the impending doom of humanity. Whatever plans they had
for me they never told, I sensed, for there was something deeply
wrong about the way they looked at me and talked about me,
something deeply wrong about the way they patronized me and
treated me like a silly child, while I was the one who was to
decide their fate. The Canitaurs and the Zards both looked at me
with a subtle sense of deceit and ill will, all that is, except
Bernibus, which is why our friendship flourished so swiftly. As I
laid there with thoughts of Onan and the decision that I was to
make, and of all the responsibility that was put upon me
involuntarily, as I thought of the conflict of past and future at
the neglect of the present, as I thought about the self-obsession
and overindulgence that come with wealth, and the desire for
still more that accompanies it, I fell to sleep and into a place
where no troubles lay, for my long day and night had left in me
no energy for dreams.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 10: Devolution</h3>

<p>When I awoke the sun was once more out in its morning glory,
at the height it assumes at about the 9 o&rsquo;clock hour, and
the room was warm and cozy because of it, as it shone in through
the glass walls. My first sensation upon waking was one of peace
and bliss, the feeling experienced when you wake up late to a
nice warm resting place, especially so when all the rest of the
world is hard at work and you are not. I breathed in the air
deeply and contentedly while stretching my arms, legs, and back
in a most relieving fashion, and then turned towards the table in
the center of the room, from whence I smelled an extremely
appealing smell, that of a hearty breakfast.</p>

<p>As I did so, however, my joy was sent to a bitter, premature
death, for there sitting at the table and smiling sardonically at
me was the King, arrayed in all his pomp and splendor with his
powerful pose, which, while it had impressed, and even to a point
overwhelmed me, before, did no such thing to me now, for I was
fresh with indignation at the exclusion of the humanoids across
the sea from the paradise of Daem.</p>

<p>He saluted me in a polite manner, and I him, though there was
little affection behind it. Then, without any more ceremony, I
sat down and began to eat, repulsing any attempt of his to start
a conversation with persistent vigor, until I had finished, when
I stood and demanded where exactly I was to make my toiletry. He
laughed and said that he was wondering how long I would last, but
as I was still too unpleasant to respond with any familiarity, he
showed me to a little room that was tucked off of the side of the
bell that formed the entrance to the domed chambers of the upper
tower. The top of the tower itself was a half complete sphere,
while the room only occupied the upper half, so that the bottom
was divided between the entry way and the toiletry room. I spent
a few moments grooming and washing myself and preparing for the
day, and then rejoined him in the room. He was still sitting on
his chair and I took the other. The meal had been carried
away.</p>

<p>He began the conversation by saying, &ldquo;My dear Jehu, I
must apologize for keeping you in this position, but you must
understand that the outcome of this war is very serious, and I
will not risk it to your sensationalism.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Sensationalism!&rdquo; returned I, &ldquo;Is that how
you would describe a touch of humanity?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; he questioned, apparently
interested in what I said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; I began, regaining myself, my former
indignation being exhausted by the spirit of my opening comments,
and my normal sober reasoning returning, &ldquo;I have been
observing your society, which you suppose to be enlightened, but
I have seen some things, which, I am afraid, are evidences of the
opposite.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Go on,&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;For one, your common folk engage in the most violent
entertainment. I saw a vicious game being played not far from
here, in the plaza below. There were two sides, and they rushed
at each other in a rage and clashed when they met until one side
tackled the other. This went on for some time, the evident point
of the sport being to gain points by making it so that one of the
opposing players cannot get up at the end of a round. It was so
brutal that I was disgusted and could watch no more.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, I see what you mean,&rdquo; the King replied,
&ldquo;I myself would much rather that such games would be
forsaken, but the people really enjoy it. I must remind you, as
well, that your society had the same type of thing, as did every
other before it. It was football for you, gladiators for the
Romans, and so forth.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;But I thought that you had no traditions? That you were
more enlightened than those of the past? You can hardly excuse
your misconduct by reminding one of the misconduct of another,
especially when you claim to disclaim the errors of history, or
at least, that altered and redefined thing that you call
history.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You are right, I have to admit,&rdquo; he conceded,
&ldquo;But let me remind you that it is a static characteristic
of humanity to confuse the ends with the means. When an intense
effort is applied, the melodramatic tendency is to honor that
effort, despite its uselessness, instead of honoring the product
of the effort rather than the effort itself. But, you are right,
I admit, for we have still a few places left to refine in the
common folk.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Feeling vainglorious at my victory, I pursued him further,
&ldquo;I also observed that your womenfolk wear face coverings in
public, which is most certainly a thing of the past.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I must disagree with you there Jehu,&rdquo; he said,
evidentially regaining his confidence and sense of moral footing,
&ldquo;For even in your own time the womenfolk all wore masks and
face coverings.&rdquo;</p>

<p>I was taken aback and cried, &ldquo;Most certainly they did
not, your history books may say so, but I, dear sir, was alive
and would know best!&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What, then,&rdquo; he coolly replied, with a sharp grin
that reeked of self-confidence, &ldquo;Would you call all the
messes of make-up and perfume and other such things which they
were virtually forced to wear? I see nothing different between
wearing face coverings and transplanting an entirely new face,
hair, and body on oneself everyday. In fact, our women got
together and decided voluntarily to do so, for the very reason
that if an artificial covering must be put on, it might as well
be one that is easy, for why spend an hour or more a day to
change one&rsquo;s appearance, when it can be done in moments
with a head covering? That is a great time saver for us. And why
spend the resources to research, produce, and market massive
amounts of facial paint to cover up the face when it is possible
to put a covering on and get the same effect much, much easier?
It is only logical.</p>

<p>&ldquo;And in general, Jehu,&rdquo; he pursued, warming to the
subject matter, &ldquo;I find the oppression of women in your
time to be quite appalling. You seemed to think that the
liberation of women consisted in transforming them into loveless,
materialistic thugs, into workaholics whose only desire is
wealth, into aggression driven beings that possessed little shred
of real humanity, into, in a word, men. I think it would have
been a much better endeavor to have attempted to change men into
women.&rdquo;</p>

<p>I was taken aback by his eloquent defense of the treatment of
women in his society, and felt, I must admit, a little impressed
by his arguments, seeing as how it did make more sense to wear a
head covering than to paint on a face every morning. Still, I
desired to let him see that traditions aren&rsquo;t all that bad,
just as they aren&rsquo;t all that good, and, as I had still won
one point out of two so far, I felt it safe to move on to my main
argument against his humanistic preponderance.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You are right there, I admit, but tell me, your
majesty,&rdquo; I said with a slow, scoffing voice, meant to show
that I had a powerful point to make, and as if I had to go slow
enough for him to comprehend the eloquence of my speech,
&ldquo;Why, if you are so enlightened and progressive, so
humanitarian and merciful, why do you keep a whole race of
people, of human beings, stranded on the far shore, able to see
the goodness of Daem&rsquo;s plush lands, but unable to visit
them? How can you justify the keeping of people in such
conditions when it is in your power to relieve them?&rdquo;</p>

<p>He sobered up more than he already was and answered in his
most dignified voice, one calculated to stop opposition by its
very graces, &ldquo;Their plight is unfortunate, but as they are
not my subjects, it is none of my concern.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;So you knew of them, but did not care. How typical of
powerful men. What are they called?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Munams,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;Is what we call
them, though people of your time had a different name for them,
Neanderthal, if I am correct.&rdquo;</p>

<p>My intrigue superseded my conviction and I asked interestedly,
&ldquo;But, how is that possible? The Neanderthals were the
ancestors of men in my time, and the men of my time were the
ancestors of the men of this time, how could they be living
now?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Very simply, for your scientists and philosophers did
not understand the revolution of time, and what they thought was
evolution was in fact devolution. You see, when they found all
the fossils and other such evidence for evolution, they
interpreted it to mean that they had evolved from lesser
organisms. Since they didn&rsquo;t know that time repeats itself
over and over again, ages of time being like the years of the
earth, it was actually the remains of the age before them that
they thought were the remains of their ancestors. In truth,
instead of a great comet hitting the earth and destroying the
dinosaurs and many other living beings, it was the Great Wars,
the nuclear wars, that caused all the damage. And since their
perception of the events was backward, instead of the blasts
destroying the dinosaurs and the wholly mammoths, it was what
actually created them, for, you see, after the nuclear weapons
had all been used, everything in the world died, or came very
close to it, all that is, except Daem, which thrived, because of
the delcator beetles.</p>

<p>&ldquo;There were no &lsquo;dinosaurs&rsquo;, only Zards, for
when the radiation levels were still high and unstable, we grew
to enormous sizes, and likewise there were no wholly mammoths,
but Canitaurs. And the Neanderthals that appeared shortly after
were not the precursors to humans at all, but the Munams, who
survived on the mainland near Daem because of the corrected
atmosphere, but who were mutilated more than we by the increased
corruption across the sea. The Ice Ages, also, were not as you
thought, but instead mark the position in the last age after the
doom of humanity was played out and everything destroyed. The Big
Bang, also, was not at the beginning, but at the very end, being
somehow related to the onset of the Ice Ages. Your evolutionary
theories were close, but the time tables were rearranged to fit
the facts, since time was thought to be linear.</p>

<p>&ldquo;That is where our main trouble lies, Jehu, for through
geological and biological evidences, even more advanced than
those collected during your times, we can tell that something
happens at this very period of history that will wipe all life
from the face of the earth for a long period of time, many
thousands of years, until somehow they start to reproduce and
grow once more into what they are now. Something very powerful
happens, even more devastating than the nuclear wars, when all
the nations of the world used their entire stock of weapons. Our
problem is how to prevent it, and a great problem it presents,
indeed. You see, while we would wish to be confident of success,
since we know generally what to expect, we know through research
that there have been many, many ages before us in which the same
thing has happened. That is why the geological layers have always
been found to be strangely misaligned, with fossils from an
earlier period here and with a later period there. That is why
things like tree fossils are found in coal mines, where they
shouldn&rsquo;t be, and why in general, the evidence found in the
ground doesn&rsquo;t fit a consistent pattern.&rdquo;</p>

<p>As he finished, I could say nothing, for his revelation was
sobering to me, bringing me suddenly back to the realization that
our doom was impending, that every decision I made had the
potential to either bring us to safety, or to supply the
necessary force to hurl us viscously off the cliff of mortality.
He was silent as well and allowed me a few moments of meditation
to turn his speech in my mind. As is my tendency, I looked
abstractly out the window as I thought, fixing my subconscious
focus on the road that ran from the northern gate down through
the city, the road which formed half of the plaza beneath the
temple. A moment or two passed like a solemn parade of mourning,
then, suddenly, or at least quite unexpected by myself, a party
of Canitaurs came walking down the northern road, unharassed and
unescorted through the heart of the city. Since they came freely,
I knew that they were not prisoners, but still I was perplexed at
how a party of them came to be allowed in Nunami at all under
such pretexts, especially as they had attempted to bring it to
ruin but a few days before.</p>

<p>The King saw their coming and my interest in them, and said in
a way of explanation, &ldquo;There is to be a council today
between the Zards and Canitaurs, with you present, of course. Our
war has rampaged for quite some time, but we are forced to peace
in light of our impending doom, brought by circumstances outside
of ourselves. We will decide tonight, or tomorrow, what action to
take. It is a grim time, you can be sure, my dear Jehu, when
Zards and Canitaurs meet in peace, a grim time indeed.&rdquo;</p>

<p>He said that very importantly, with an air of fright in his
voice, as one who knows his end is near, for both him and his
loved ones. There was another moment of silence as he reflected
on the meaning of his words, and then he rose and beckoned me to
follow him. We made our way through the bottom half of the room
and down the long flight of stairs that wound down the great
tower in the Temple of Time. When we reached the bottom, we went
again into the long room with the bookshelves, the table, and the
altar to Temis. Already there waiting for us were the Canitaur
emissaries, Wagner and Bernibus.</p>

<p>They rose to greet me, bowing low in a deferential manner,
more out of forced respect than awe, at least on Wagner&rsquo;s
part, and after the customary blessing that followed, we all sat
down at the long wooden table that stretched lengthwise through
the room. Wagner and Bernibus took their chairs on one side and
the King and myself on the other, he and Wagner being opposite
each other, and Bernibus and me being the same; the King and I
were facing the altar and the White Eagle that held it.</p>

<p>There was a moment of silence as we took our seats, and it
continued for another moment as everyone sat in an awkward
situation. As there was no one else in the room besides the four
of us, and as Wagner seemed disinclined to begin, the King opened
up our conference with the following statement:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Well, dear sirs, what can I say, except that I am glad
that you have finally condescended to seek a mutual agreement on
the actions which are about to ensue, and that I hope that our
conference will be productive and informative. Before we begin, I
will outline the rules of the debate and of the conference, which
were agreed upon before the military action of the recent
past,&rdquo; here he looked at Wagner with the look of a judge
who supposes himself morally superior to the criminal in his
holding, &ldquo;And by which we will still govern the council,
despite the sudden change in circumstances. The rules are as
follows: The decision shall be made by the votes of the three
parties involved, namely the Zards, the Canitaurs, and Jehu, the
kinsman redeemer. A majority of two votes is required to decide
which of the paths will be taken: the Futurist or the Pastite. As
is clearly obvious, my dear Jehu, I shall vote Futurist, and
Wagner shall vote Pastite, and it is up to you to cast the
decisive vote. You are the kinsman redeemer, and for all intents
and purposes, you will be the sole decider of the fate of
humanity. It is a great responsibility, but one that you were
chosen for by the child of Temis, the God of Time. Wagner and
myself will each make our cases, though you know them by now, and
then you will have all night to decide and you will tell us your
decision in the morning,&rdquo; thus concluded the King&rsquo;s
opening address.</p>

<p>Before anyone else could follow it up, I interjected,
&ldquo;But I was sent by Onan to do his work on earth,
wouldn&rsquo;t it only make sense for me to choose the way of
Onan?&rdquo;</p>

<p>The King answered me, saying, &ldquo;You were sent by Temis,
the God of Time, Jehu, for Onan and Zimri are his children who do
his work for him, but they only have the powers that he gave
them. Onan is the only one able to speak to mortals, for he is in
the past, while Zimri is in the future, but Onan also speaks for
Zimri, because he is told what to say by Temis, whose agents they
both are as much as you are Onan&rsquo;s. Isn&rsquo;t that so,
Wagner?&rdquo;</p>

<p>Wagner sighed in the affirmative, and when he had done so, I
asked him pointedly, &ldquo;Why didn&rsquo;t you tell me? You led
me to believe that Onan was the one who sent me, and by his own
power.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Here the King put in, &ldquo;He merely wanted to prejudice you
to his own side, Jehu. He attempted to by-pass our peace treaty
of long ago when he tried to attack us and capture this very
temple for his own plans. We agreed twenty-five years ago to do
it this way, because enough blood had been shed, and no good had
come from it. He violated it when he took you into hiding, using
our pursuit after his treachery as justification. But come, in
the face of impending doom we cannot squabble over past wrongs,
but must move to prevent future disaster from
striking.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What is so important about this Temple of Time,
though?&rdquo; I asked.</p>

<p>Wagner and the King mumbled together that &ldquo;It was an
essential part of the restoration of Daem&rdquo;, but would not
elaborate, saying that it was unimportant to the present
troubles. They looked guilty as they said it, though of what I
did not know. I was reminded of my indignation at their ignoring
of the sufferings of the Munams and became once more impatient
with their self-importance, so I yielded the floor and they began
to make their cases. In order to decide who went first, they drew
lots, and as the shorter was drawn by Wagner, he went first. His
speech is as follows:</p>

<p>&ldquo;The past is constant, Jehu. It has happened and is
secure in its place, explored and known. The traditions and
customs of our people are steadfast and immovable, for they have
survived the ages like a mountain that is untouched by the
weather. They have lasted so long not because of the mere
namesake of tradition, but because they work, because they have
worked thousands of times before, and because we know they will
work a thousand times in the future. What was good enough for the
generations before us is good enough for us and our children. A
tradition, or taboo, is not formed by the decision of some
contemporary council as a means to control others via social
restrictions, for if it was it would never have lasted, instead
it is formed because of experience, because when something goes
beyond it the result is temporary pleasure, the nectar of the
fruits of rebellion, but when the rebellious desires have faded,
what is left is rotten and decayed.</p>

<p>&ldquo;It brings only more desires for rebellion and more
thirst for the forsaking of traditions, and it will not be
satisfied. Then another taboo will be broken, but this also will
not quench the desires of the rebellious, who do what they do not
for any independent purpose, but only from a desire to break
traditions and taboos and to be different than their forebears.
But there is no satisfaction in rebellion, only in obedience.
Obedience not to some alien divinity, not to some social
supremest, not to the blind devotion of parental mandates, but
obedience to common sense, to practicality, to morality. For a
taboo is not formed by any one person, instead it is slowly built
up upon the experiences of many, experiences which show that when
one thing is done, suffering is what follows, and when another
thing is done, happiness is what follows. Of course there are a
few, isolated taboos that are based instead on human prejudices,
but that doesn&rsquo;t translate into the abandonment of all the
experience of precedents. What comes when there are no longer any
taboos and traditions to break? Destruction. For as is seen time
and again, the rebellion of societies gains momentum, and while
their consequences are slow in gathering, in the end they
multiply and force those societies over the edge of power,
bringing only suffering and ruin.</p>

<p>&ldquo;And not only are the experiences of the past wielded
together into that euphoria that eludes the rebellious - wisdom -
but its constant state controls the present and the future. What
men have seen in the past leads them in their future actions, and
as a result, it is not the future that controls the present and
defines the past, but it is the past which controls the present
and defines the future. What sense is there in abandoning the
mountain of wisdom that the past has built up and leaping blindly
into hazy, unknown actions and institutions? The past is steady,
Jehu, and it is known; it is the only sensible way.&rdquo; Thus
spoke Wagner.</p>

<p>It was then the King&rsquo;s turn, and he said as follows:</p>

<p>&ldquo;The past is the past, not the present nor the future,
its time has been spent, its part in the theater of life is over,
it is extinct. Jehu, Wagner speaks of us as rebelliously breaking
taboos that were formed by our forefathers, but that is not true.
In the present more is known than was known in the past, they had
outdated views and opinions, and their ideologies were vulgar and
unsophisticated. At present we are more knowledgeable, more
refined than what has gone before. The people of the past waged
unjust wars. They had superstition and prejudices that clouded
their visions of morality, and the product of that is a large
amount of taboos and precedents and traditions that are immoral
or meaningless. Now is the age of enlightenment, now and never
before is the future at hand, mixing with the present as we learn
more and more about our world. We are progressive, learning and
growing in philosophy and lifestyle.</p>

<p>&ldquo;If those of the past were so upright and wise, than why
are they not still among the living? If they were so powerful,
then why are they now extinct? The past is gone, but the future
is yet to come, it still holds tangible pleasures, not memories,
it has promise and potential, while the past is only the ruins of
the same. When the past is looked back upon, it is small and
immaterial, it is like time crumpled up into a wad of memories,
and a time yesterday or a thousand years ago looks the same, for
it is past, it is no more. Life is not short, but in retrospect
it seems to be, and its memories are distant, as they float like
fish in the oceans of time, lacking both definition and scale,
and hanging lifelessly around in random arrays. Every moment is
of the same length, but a moment in the past is nothing, its
thoughts and emotions are nothing, they are gone and useless to
the present, while a moment in the future is long and touchable.
A thought that is past is as nothing, and it is forgotten, for
the past and the future are like a one-way mirror, you can look
forward into the future, but looking into the past you can see
only the present reflected back at you. What good are the joys or
sorrows of yesterday? They are as far removed as those of a
thousand years ago, but it is the joys and sorrows of tomorrow
that loom the largest. Why look into the past for completion,
when it is found only in the future?&rdquo; Thus spoke the
King.</p>

<p>Once both of them had finished there was a short pause, each
reflective and absorbed with his own thoughts. At last the King
broke through the still waters of the moment and sent his
rippling voice across its formless surface, which revived at once
and was joined by many others, until the outward expression of
consciousness sent the waters of the mind again into their
complex and interwoven dances. He spoke in the department of host
and concluded the short session with these words, &ldquo;Now the
cases are stated, though but briefly, for they were already
well-known. As planned prior to the infractions of the treaty, we
will adjourn for the night, and in the morning Jehu will deliver
his verdict, whether we undo our problem through the future, or
through the past.&rdquo;</p>

<p>We all rose and Bernibus, my only friend on the island, came
up to me and warmly embraced me, while Wagner and the King
conversed formally a few yards away. When they were not looking
and our backs were turned to them, Bernibus slipped me a piece of
paper that was rolled up into a tight scroll. Seeing his caution
and secrecy, I quickly stashed it in the inside of my shirt,
where it could not be seen. I was alarmed at the momentary
expression of his face, which showed that he was greatly worried
about me, and made me very interested in what the paper would
contain. His face quickly returned to its original countenance,
an impermeable barrier to his insides, and no one except myself
had any inclination about what had happened. The other two turned
towards us, and quickly made their farewells, Wagner and Bernibus
departing for their quarters, and the King to escort me back to
my prison.</p>

<p>He took my arm in his genially, though only superficially so,
for he still had a subdued sense of distrust about him, and we
went through the door to the long, circling stairway from whence
we had come. As we ascended we engaged in small talk, the usual
meaningless pleasantry, which I assume you have probably had
enough of in your experiences to allow me to dispense with
relating it, for it was of no weight in any of the circumstances
that I found myself in, and I especially was not interested in
it, as the paper given to me by Bernibus claimed my whole
attention, and filled me with an anticipation and mystery of what
it might contain. I kept up the small talk with the King merely
to allay any suspicions he might have had, though he had none.
After a seeming eternity we reached the top, and once there I
stepped into my chambers, as the King jestingly called them. We
bade each other goodnight, which was followed by the metallic
click of the door locking, and the sound his footsteps as he
descended and made his way to his palace.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 11: The Land Across the Sea</h3>

<p>I waited reluctantly with my ear against the door until his
footsteps could no longer be heard, and then waited for fifteen
minutes more, listening carefully for any noises. There were
none, and once I had convinced myself that I was completely
alone, I dashed swiftly up the stairs and jumped onto the couch.
My sudden movements caused the top-heavy tower to sway slightly
for a few moments, giving me quite the scare, for I didn&rsquo;t
realize what it was at first. But then my pilot&rsquo;s instinct
kicked in and I mentally calculated the height and width of the
tower and the mass of the dome that rested upon it, and came to
the conclusion that it was stable, for while a swift movement
caused it to sway, it would take a prolonged and deliberate
pendulum-like motion to cause any real damage, and even the
fiercest wind would not upset it, for it would only blow in a
single direction at a time, and only a rocking motion must be
feared.</p>

<p>Confident once more of my safety, I took the rolled piece of
paper from the folds of my clothing and opened it carefully.
Inside was a note from Bernibus, written in a legible cursive
that flowed from an obviously educated hand. It read as
follows:</p>

<p>&ldquo;My Dear Jehu, it is I, Bernibus, your friend and
comrade, who writes to you. Wagner and myself are soon to set off
for Nunami for a council with the Zards about the resolution of
our conflict. It was decided in a cease fire treaty twenty-some
years ago that whomever first came upon the kinsman redeemer was
to have a council with the other side and the ancient one to
decide which course to take, since either course needs the
support of both the Zards and the Canitaurs to succeed. When you
first came among us, Wagner seemed to break the terms of the
treaty and keep you with us in an attempt carry out our plans
independently of the Zards, using an attack plan that had been
held in readiness since the treaty, to ensure a defense if things
went wrong. When the Zards attempted to capture us upon your
arrival, Wagner declared the treaty violated, and I assumed that
it was to be entirely abandoned. I was under this impression when
I befriended you, and once our friendship had strengthened, I had
no fears for you, thinking as I did that new methods were to be
tried.</p>

<p>&ldquo;After the attack on Nunami failed and the council was
once again to be held, each having violated it equally, my fears
were suddenly aroused on your behalf. It was only then that I saw
that it was the intention of Wagner not only to destroy Nunami
and the Zards, but to capture the Temple of Time, which was the
only part of the city to be left intact. When I confronted my
brother-in-law about this, he only laughed at me scornfully and
told me that I was soft, that I was a fool to put one man&rsquo;s
life ahead of the salvation of the whole earth. I was filled with
wrath at him and still am, but I have decided that it was better
to feign compliance and let you know by letter what it was that
is being planned for you. I am only sorry that it should come to
you at so late an hour, when I could have warned and helped you
before if I had only known. There is not much that you can do
now, but still I must warn you, for whatever it is worth, if only
to prove my affections.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You see, my dear Jehu, the Pastites and Futurists
interpret the prophecy to mean that the kinsman redeemer has come
to renew the earth, as you have no doubt heard, although there is
strong evidences to the contrary. I myself have been brought up
to this interpretation, as it is more acceptable than the
alternate theories that exist, though I have been for a time now
doubting its accuracy. According to the Externus Miraculum view,
the Temple of Time is crucial to the implementation of either
plan, in fact it is the crux of them both, the one issue that it
is of as great importance, or greater, than the presence of you,
the kinsman redeemer. There is an altar in the center room of the
temple, a great diamond White Eagle that is grasping an ordinary
altar in its talons, and this altar is where the kinsman redeemer
is to be sacrificed. If only I had suspected so before and could
have warned when there was yet time!</p>

<p>&ldquo;But there is no time now for such reflections, so I
will continue. The method of sending you back or forward in time
is to sacrifice you on the altar of Temis, the God of Time. It is
not a traditional, atonement sacrifice, nor of any kind that
involves the cutting of the flesh with a knife. Instead it is a
molecular one. You are to be set on the altar and then the White
Eagle will start to spew forth either protons or electrons,
depending on which is chosen, past or future. When your
body&rsquo;s cells absorb all of the floating matter, they will
be either positively or negatively charged to such an extent that
their revolutions will be rapidly accelerated. According to
theory, the increased speed of the revolutions would cause a rift
in the time continuum, or in other words, would change the
proportion between your existence in the temporal and material
realms and change your location in time, thereby propelling you
into the past or the future, depending upon which was chosen,
electron or proton, past or future.</p>

<p>&ldquo;There has been much experimentation with this process,
each person sent through time being equipped with a matter-proof
box that is basically an advanced time capsule, lasting for
millions of years. Into this box (or TAB, Temporal Anomaly Box)
each person was supposed to write an account of their temporal
journey and leave it on the island that is presently Daem, at
specific locations decided on for that purpose. We would search
for those boxes in the present, to see if they had been
delivered. None have yet been found, though there are other
possible reasons than death, such as a failure to find the
island, or the box&rsquo;s removal by someone in an intervening
time. Still, I am greatly afraid for your life Jehu, especially
so after what I discovered just hours ago in the classified
archives of the Canitaurs: there was strong evidence that the
process simply disintegrated those upon whom it was tried,
instead of sending them through time. This was kept from the
public, and was forcefully forgotten by those who knew, their
reason being that Temis would guide your travel better than the
others who were not called as his servants. If it were anyone but
you, Jehu, I would probably have deceived myself in the same way,
but I cannot let you be destroyed like this. You must escape and
not let them throw away our only chance of salvation in such a
way. I only wish that I had known sooner, I only wish that there
was a chance that you could escape,</p>

<p>&ldquo;Your Devoted Friend, Bernibus&rdquo;</p>

<p>For a moment I could do nothing except sit in silence and
ponder over this new revelation. After I had reread the letter
twice, so as to be thoroughly familiar with its contents, I ate
it, so that if I did escape, or was apprehended doing so,
Bernibus would not be found out and suffer because of it, though
I doubt not that he would have gladly done so. When I had done
that, I ran down to the door and attempted to force it open, but
to no avail. Neither could it be picked. And even if it had, it
would have done me no good, for there were at least two guards
always stationed at the foot of the stairs, and many more between
them and the temple entrance, and even if, by some miraculous
intervention, I made it that far, that left me stranded
conspicuously in the center of Nunami. My only hope was to escape
from the island completely, for I would be found soon enough by
the cooperating inhabitants if I remained upon their own
lands.</p>

<p>The land across the sea then entered my mind, and its
degenerate inhabitants, but that was across a wide channel that
would be hard to cross even if I had infinite time, freedom, and
materials to make a boat which would withstand the waves, and I
had none of the three. What little hope I had, then, was out of
reach, lost to me like the golden days of the past. It was then
that I was overcome by despondency, the hopelessness of my
situation weighing my spirits down. It is a peculiar trait of
mine that in times of distress and in situations that seem to
have no possible favorable outcome I act rashly and without
reason. You will remember how I leaned forward and peered into
the dark hole when I was stranded on the tiny island in the sea,
and how I struck the tree with a limb on the shores of Lake
Umquam Renatusum. Likewise, I again did something which would
seem illogical and vain: in my frustration, I pushed the table
that I happened to be standing against with as much force as I
could muster. It slid softly along the carpeting before coming to
a halt a few inches from the glass wall. It made no noise or
jarring of the floor, but the sudden shifting of weight in the
room caused the tower to sway once more, as it had when I had run
up the stairs to the couch.</p>

<p>And, as had happened on the previous occasions, the result of
my senseless actions was good, as if guided by some external
force, for an idea came suddenly to my mind that would not have
been there otherwise, an idea that was outlandish and
far-fetched, but was at the time my only hope.</p>

<p>I lost no time on preparing my efforts, for there was none to
be lost, and set out immediately to remove the carpeting from the
floor. Upon examination I found that it was not attached to the
ground at all, but only fastened into a wooden frame at the walls
that held it tightly in place. It stretched in a circular fashion
around the whole of the room and into the center until it came to
the stairs that led downward, so that once removed it formed a
circle about thirty feet in diameter with a three foot circular
hole in its center. In case I haven&rsquo;t mentioned the type of
the carpet yet, which I must confess that I cannot remember, I
will do so here: it was not a traditional carpet, that form being
apparently lost after the great wars, instead it was a silky
sheet-like carpet, no more than a quarter inch thick, and in fact
greatly resembling the sail of an old clipper ship, the painting
on the glass that I saw earlier probably attesting to the fact
that it had been designed with that appearance in mind. Like its
prototype, the sail, it caught a lot of wind and acted in the
same general manner.</p>

<p>Using the bowie knife that was built into the large frontal
buckle of the anti-electron suit, which, by the way, I was still
entirely wearing, I cut the carpet down its center, making two
semi-circular pieces, each with a moon shaped appearance, much
like a wing. I based my idea in part on the observation that the
Canitaurs and Zards had apparently lost, or disregarded, the
springs of my time and instead used a hammock of springy, elastic
cords that spread across the face of the furniture. Simply put,
they stretched elastic ropes across an empty frame, almost like a
trampoline made of individual cords. This created a very
comfortable springing feel, for they gave enough bounce to render
the surface pliable, but not overly soft. Taking the bowie knife
again, I thrust it into the couch, and cut away the cushioning to
reveal the support. To my great relief, I found that it was
constructed in a manner similar to the other couches that I had
seen. There were about two score of the cords, each being between
three and four feet long. These I unattached and laid them down
in a pile.</p>

<p>Next, I took the four main support beams for the couch, one
running along each side and two down the center in a crescent
shape, with the same curve and slope as the carpet, as they were
designed to contour the same wall. Then I disassembled the table
and took from it two of its main beams, which were about a foot
shorter than their curved counterparts. These I did not fully
remove, instead loosening their screws and swiveling them to
extend outwards from the table at a right angle, tightening them
again afterwards so that they were secure.</p>

<p>Once that was accomplished, I went to the frame that had held
the carpet down and took the pins and fasteners which were used
to secure it. These I placed on the crescent beams from the
couch, which used the same standard size. Once I had secured the
carpet sections to the beams, I attached the couch&rsquo;s beams,
via the cords, to the long beams sticking outward from the table,
running the ends of all the cords through another cord that
could, upon being pulled, adjust their height by pulling or
releasing, thus controlling the distance between the upper and
the lower beams, and changing the amount of slack in the carpet
that was stretched between them. I then removed the legs from the
tabletop, leaving just it and the beams together, the carpet
being attached to the beams.</p>

<p>Thus my plan was completed, it being, in case you hadn&rsquo;t
guessed, a primitive hang glider, the carpet being a sail and the
beams the wings, the whole being steerable by either raising or
lowering one side or the other, and the altitude being adjustable
by raising or lowering the two simultaneously. I felt keen joy at
my skills in air travel at that moment, and as I stepped back to
admire my work, I felt that peculiar satisfaction of having made
something and finding that it was good.</p>

<p>But that moment was short lived, for another problem quickly
presented itself, namely, how would I remove the hang-glider from
the tower and launch it. It was far too large to go down the
stairs and needed to be propelled to a high speed or dropped from
a high altitude to become airborne. Since I had no way of
propelling it, I needed to launch it from the top of the tower,
which provided plenty of altitude, but then the problem of how to
remove it from the tower arose. For a moment I was stumped and
almost admitted defeat, but then it came to me.</p>

<p>The tower&rsquo;s only weakness was in its lack of protection
against a deliberate rocking motion. If I was able to swing it
back and forth fast enough by slowly gaining speed and
multiplying the momentum, it would be possible to get it to lean
far enough that the dome would snap off, leaving the room open to
the air. This was possible, though rather unlikely. But I tried
anyway.</p>

<p>Starting on one side I began to move from one edge to the
other until a faint rocking motion could be felt. Then I
increased my speed in proportion to the speed of the tower
itself. It was a slow start, but the momentum began to grow, and
as it did each successive sway became faster and faster. Soon it
was going so fast that I began to have unstable footing, the
whole tower creaking like a tree that it is blown by a heavy
wind. The speed kept increasing until it reached its fastest,
swooshing to and fro with all of its accumulated force.</p>

<p>It was then that the break happened, for on one of the thrusts
the top snapped off and the upper dome was flung downwards to the
ground. As soon as it was off I shoved the hang-glider with all
the force I could muster towards the edge. At first it fell, but
a few feet from the edge its wings caught the wind and it was
brought up to a stable soar, and just at that instant I landed on
it, for I had jumped right after it. I hit with a thud and felt
the craft bounce downwards a little as I hit, but it soon
regained its stability and sped on through the air as behind me I
heard a great crashing sound.</p>

<p>I pulled the left wing down and the glider began to turn in
that direction. Since I had launched into the opposite direction
of the mainland, I needed to wheel around completely, and as such
I held the wing down until I had done an about face towards the
east. What I saw was a striking picture: the sun had just begun
to rise, and under the influence of its soft textures the city of
Nunami looked as it had before: quaint, picturesque, and
inviting. But there was a great difference now, for the tower
itself had completely collapsed under the momentum, and its ruins
had fallen down upon the Temple of Time, demolishing it and
leaving only ruins. It had also fallen on a strip of the city,
taking with it several buildings and leaving only rubble. The
King, Wagner, and Bernibus could just barely be seen amongst the
crowds that had dashed out of doors to see what was going on, and
I could tell that Bernibus was smiling at my escape as he looked
at my wind sailor a thousand feet in the air. A friend who
rejoices in your advancement, even at his own cost, is rare
indeed.</p>

<p>Turning my gaze upwards, I left Nunami and its troubles behind
me and looked ahead to my promised land, and though it was barren
and devoid of any significant foliage, it still held something
equally dear to me as landscape: safety. The wind currents were
strong and my speed was about 30 miles per hour. Great expanses
of grassland sped by below me like the memories of yesteryear,
and within half an hour I found myself over the ocean.</p>

<p>There is something very refreshing about the sunrise that
correlated very well with my present feeling of emancipation, for
it is a symbol of the new and fresh, and of the forgetting of the
troubles of the past. This was true in my case, at least, for I
was soon carefree once more, secure in my freedom. As the wind
rushed across my body, I was relaxed in my adopted element, air,
though it was slightly difficult to keep myself firmly on the
glider, as I was lying unfastened to the tabletop. Below me
passed the ocean, looking generally the same as ever, though
paler and less alive, like a ghost of its former self, but still
close enough to bring the calm of reminiscing.</p>

<p>Soon even the ocean began to give way to the fast approaching
mainland, and I abandoned my restive meditations to solve the
problem of how to land. I had not made any contraptions for that
purpose, having not thought about it in the hurry to leave my
prison. I decided to use a traditional circling approach, in the
same way scavenging birds descend on their prey. When I was a
mile or so inland, I began to circle about in wide spirals,
narrowing them as I drew closer to the ground. In this way I had
slowed down enough by the time I made contact with the ground
that neither I nor my craft was injured in the landing.</p>

<p>The terrain proved to be as desolate as it had appeared from
the distance, for the main vegetation was a weakly sprouting
grass that was only a few inches high, though not mowed or chewed
down. Every few dozen yards there was a single stunted shrub or
small tree, or in some cases a group of the same, and the spaces
between these was littered with scattered rocks and occasionally
a smaller, flowering plant. The topography of the land was mostly
flat, though not in the sense of a plain or savanna, instead it
was merely a gentle slope, so that the immediate area seemed
flat, but in the distance it was seen to rise considerably. There
were also a few small hills that were no more than twenty feet
high across their whole length, but in the obtuse slopes of the
land, even that seemed to be almost mountainous. Brown was the
prevailing color of it all for as far as my eye could see, though
I cannot say if that condition prevailed inland further, since I
had forgotten the telescope, which would probably have proved a
useful tool.</p>

<p>A slight wind blew from seaward, scattering the dry top soil
about like a cloud of gnats, though there were very few actual
insects, and no animals that I could see. The only sound that I
could hear was that of the wind howling gently past my ears. I
had landed in a sort of valley, which, though not at all deep,
was surrounded on all sides by slight hills that prevented me
from getting an extensive look at the landscape beyond. Before
making any decisions as to which direction to set off, I decided
to climb to the top of one of these hills to ascertain my exact
situation, and although I was generally reluctant to start off
into unfamiliar territory, I also wanted to put as many miles
between me and the coast as possible, in case the Zards and
Canitaurs came after me, which was still a cause of great anxiety
to me.</p>

<p>As I rounded the top of the hill that was directly east of my
landing point, I suddenly came face to face with two small
people, gnomes by appearance, one of whom I recognized as being
Onan, the Lord of the Past. He greeted me familiarly as &lsquo;My
Dear Jehu&rsquo;, and introduced me to his partner, who turned
out to be Zimri, the Lord of the Future. Onan was dressed the
same as when I had last seen him, and Zimri was close in
appearance, though his hair was long and his beard short, while
Onan&rsquo;s were the opposite. Zimri wore a little blue-green
frock that fit rather snuggly but not enough to be considered
tight. I started our ensuing dialog by saying this:</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am more than a little surprised to see you upon such
good terms with your rival, Onan,&rdquo; giving Zimri an
inquisitive glance as I did. &ldquo;I had just assumed that you
two would be bitter enemies, as your followers on Daem seem to
be, but I can tell now that that is not at all the
case.&rdquo;</p>

<p>He laughed, as did Zimri, and replied, &ldquo;We are brothers,
and as such there is always a strong rivalry, but at the same
time there is the closest bond. There is no real conflict between
us, but only a trivial and jovial mock conflict, the kind that
means no harm and does none, to those involved, but rubs off on
others who are less informed, who take it seriously and have a
real conflict.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What do you mean by that illustration?&rdquo; I
asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Nothing. Nothing at all,&rdquo; he sighed, &ldquo;I
have said too much already, it is against the rules, you
know.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, yes, the rules. Tell me, though, how would you say
I am doing so far, am I at least doing fairly?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Of course, Jehu, you are doing excellently.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Is it true about the revolutions of time and matter,
then?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, in fact, it goes even further than that... Say,
Zimri, do you think it is allowable to tell him about the
physical and the spiritual realms?&rdquo;</p>

<p>Zimri said nothing, for he can say nothing, but he did nod his
head in the affirmative. Thus sanctioned by his brother, Onan
continued to speak, &ldquo;Well, you know that physical existence
is comprised of time and matter, and that both of these are
involved in a revolving motion, from the minutest foundations to
the largest additions. While they both are revolving within
themselves, they are also revolving together, around an enigma
which, as other of the centers, is completely devoid of the thing
which revolves around it, but is found plentifully in them. In
the case of matter, it revolves around a black hole, in which
there is not found any matter, but there are places of emptiness
inside of the matter, in fact, most of an atom is empty space. In
the case of time, it revolves around eternity, an enigma where
there is no such thing as time, even as there are certain areas
where no time exists in physical existence, such as a book.
Likewise, physical existence, which is a combination of time and
matter, revolves around a place in which there is no physical
existence, namely, the spiritual realm. There is no physical in
the spiritual, but there is spiritual in the physical. Physical
existence is not whole without the spiritual, which binds it
together in such a way that gives it life, the ability to think
and reason.</p>

<p>&ldquo;There is spiritual matter in everything, but it cannot
be seen or sensed physically unless it is revealed to one by a
force on the spiritual side. Or rather, it cannot be understood
unless revealed, for it can always be seen through its effects.
By this I mean that it leaves a trace in the physical realm, like
a jellyfish that leaves a glowing trail in its wake. When the
brain of a human thinks, it is not the actual brain that is
thinking, instead it is the spiritual matter that exists in the
brain, and this spiritual matter leaves a trail where it goes of
electric signals and such. When someone feels a certain emotion,
such as love or depression, it is felt in the spiritual realm,
but its traces are seen in the physical, such as certain
chemicals, but these are not the cause of the emotion, only the
effect of them. It is possible, through certain drugs, to induce
varying emotions, such as happiness or laughter, but these are
not the actual emotions, only their physical counterparts, so
that while it appears to be happiness, it is not, like the shadow
of a man in a field: his form keeps the light from striking the
ground beside him, but the shadow is not him, only the trace of
him. Making a shadow like the man does not make the man, only the
appearance of the man. While the how of a situation may be
inferred through physical means, the why is an entirely spiritual
matter, and any attempt to observe life without taking into
account the spiritual matter behind it will end in the same
result as evolution, as the scientists of your day generally
imagined it, but which was, in fact, devolution.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The laws of the physical realm are called science, such
as the fact that energy and matter are neither created or
destroyed in any natural or artificial process, or that
everything left to itself tends toward disorder, or that life
cannot come from non-life by natural or artificial processes. The
laws of the spiritual realm are called morality. You have no
doubt observed that when one does a certain thing, the end result
is always good, and when one does something else, the end result
is always bad. That is because there are spiritual laws that
govern life, and just as there is gravity on the earth that
always pulls things down to it, so there is a spiritual law that
whenever someone steals something, the result is suffering for
both of the parties involved. Just as it is a physical law that
man must have oxygen to live, so it is a spiritual law that when
someone murders another the end result is always suffering. Why
is this, one may ask, but that is a foolish question, or at least
a pointless one, for the law of gravity states that on the earth,
all things fall downward towards the center of gravity, there is
no reason why, except that it is, for it is observed continually
to be the case.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Since men cannot accept that there is a power over
them, they deny it, and in the process they misinterpret the
various things of life as physical things, not the spiritual
things that they represent. For instance, love: men in many
&ldquo;advanced,&rdquo; that is to say, self-obsessed,
civilizations, view it only in its physical materializations, but
not in its spiritual context. When they see the results of love,
romance especially, they do not understand that the romance is
only the fruit of the spiritual essence of love, but instead
think that the romance is love. There can be so-called romance on
the physical level without its spiritual counterpart, but it is
only the shadow of love, which will never fulfill and will never
be complete, because, by definition, it is only a mocking of the
true force of love. On the other hand, true romance is not, as
some would seem to think, a certain action or set of actions,
such as the gift of a precious metal or some colorful piece of
foliage, instead it is whatever is the result of the spiritual
love, for the physical manifestation of the spiritual essence of
love is not confined to certain objects or actions, but to any
that are sanctioned with its blessings. The daily toil of a poor
man shows far more love than a lavish gift from a rich
man.&rdquo;</p>

<p>When he had finished, I gave him a big grin and thanked him
for his lecture, and then asked him how it was that this did not
break the rules, but other things did. To this he replied that it
affected my task only indirectly, while the other things were all
direct concomitants. Then he asked me if I had any other
questions for him, and I replied that I did indeed have one.
Which was as follows, &ldquo;I know that there was a great war
directly after my departure from my native temporal zone, and
that it was very devastating in its reach and effect, and while I
know that the situation was very tense at the time, I was under
the impression that it was starting to cool down once more. What
was it that set it all off?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;The disappearance of an American fighter jet off the
coast of China,&rdquo; he replied straight-forwardly.</p>

<p>My interest was suddenly aroused, for that was the very
section where my squadron was stationed, and anyone who was lost
would have been a close friend of mine. &ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; I
told him.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The Americans claimed that it was shot down by the
Chinese, and demanded an official apology. That the Chinese would
not do, insisting that they had done no such thing, and instead
of the whole situation diffusing, as you thought it would, both
sides proceeded to war stubbornly, each thinking itself in the
moral superiority. But that is as always.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Do you have any idea whose ship it was that went down?
They were all my comrades,&rdquo; I said.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Of course I know, Jehu, for it was your
plane.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;But how? I wasn&rsquo;t shot down, I crash landed on an
island.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;But you came to me and I sent you here, and since your
radios went out, they had no idea that you were safely
landed.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Still, they must have found the plane!&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;No, you know perfectly well that those islands are
brought above and below sea level at different times. After you
left, the island was brought below the water, and your plane was
lost in the sea, no traces were found.&rdquo;</p>

<p>I was confused, &ldquo;Onan, does that mean that I was the
cause of the war?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;From a certain point of view, yes.&rdquo;</p>

<p>He was about to say something else to me when we saw in the
distance a group of about ten Munams coming toward us, being at
that time a few miles away. He then told me that he must leave me
again for the present, as he could not interfere directly with my
mission. They bid me goodbye and I did the same to them, and then
they walked down the opposite side of the hill that the Munams
were approaching from. As they walked, they slowly disappeared,
until they were gone without a trace, for even their footprints
had faded to nothing.</p>

<p>During the time between Onan and Zimri&rsquo;s departure and
the Munam&rsquo;s arrival, I was left to myself for a period of
inward meditation, an activity that you have probably concluded
that I am often given to, which is entirely the case. This new
revelation was very troubling to me, that somehow I was the very
cause of the destruction of humanity during the great wars, while
also the kinsman redeemer over 500 years later, who was
prophesied to be the one to bring humanity back into balance with
nature, or to thrust it forever off the edge of existence into
the damnation of the ice ages. As I told you in the beginning, I
am written in the pages of history as the destroyer of humanity,
though if it is just or not, I am not able to judge. The name of
Jehu will forever be a ripple on the surface of the waters of
life, and when it is heard or spoken, the only feeling that it
will bring will be hatred and disgust. If only mortals could see
below the surface of the waters of life, for just as the ocean
can be deceiving on its surface, so can life. Time is like an
ocean, but when one looks upon it, what often happens is that all
one sees is the present reflected back in its surface, and the
eyes are shielded from what lies below, focusing instead on the
surface, which is so trivial compared to the abyss which supports
it. When one only sees the surface reflected back, then history
and its wisdom lose their meaning, and one sees not the past but
only the present. What I mean is this: if you look to the past to
justify your actions rather than to guide them, you will not see
the truths contained therein, but only what your presuppositions
already were before you looked, and your ignorance will be
reinforced rather than repudiated. Wisdom is the ability to see
the past separate from the present, but when one sees the
destruction of humanity, he will see only me, his vision being
shielded from the true cause of it all, history.</p>

<p>The actions or inactions of one solitary soul cannot bring the
end of life, only the accumulation of the wrongs and injustices
of a whole race, the human race. Forever I will be eyed as the
assassin of humanity, and yet that is not the truth at all, for I
am the father of humanity, I am the beginning as well as the end.
If you view me only as one or the other, you do not see me at
all, but only a pale shadow of my true self. I am Jehu, past,
present, and future, I am the concentration of humanity in all
its forms and reproductions, I am the creator and destroyer of
every age of this temporal maze. Why am I the defender and
executioner of the race of men? Why am I the protagonist and
antagonist of humanity? Why am I the father and the son, the
beginning and the end? Such a question is futile to ask in the
physical realm, for here there are no answers to the why&rsquo;s,
they are only to be found in the spiritual realm. The physical
realm is left only with the how&rsquo;s, and it is those which I
am attempting to clarify.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 12: The White Eagle</h3>

<p>It was only a few moments after Onan and Zimri left me that
the Munams arrived, for they had run, spurred on, apparently, by
their great desire to meet me. In appearance they were like I had
seen from afar: hairy and stooped, almost using their arms as
legs, but not entirely. Their skulls were large and oddly shaped
and their mouths were pushed out from their faces like an
ape&rsquo;s. A limp, furry tail hung down from their lower backs,
and their hands had a tough, leathery appearance.</p>

<p>There were eight of them, and when they drew near, the
foremost hailed me with an eager gleam in his eyes, like one who
has long hoped and long been denied. His voice was low and
gravelly, but not at all uncivilized sounding, as one would have
expected by his appearance, and his facial expressions were
equally as livid and distinctly humanoid. He began:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Hail, the White Eagle, sent by the gods to deliver us!
Hail the redemption from paradise, coming to bring us
home.&rdquo; With that he held out his arms and embraced me in a
very warm, heartfelt manner.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Hello,&rdquo; I replied, somewhat embarrassed by my
lack of authority.</p>

<p>&ldquo;I am Ramma, leader of the Munams,&rdquo; he told me,
&ldquo;And I welcome you in the name of us all.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Greetings, Ramma,&rdquo; I replied, &ldquo;I am
Jehu.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;We are joyous at your arrival, oh Jehu of the White
Eagle.&rdquo;</p>

<p>When he said this I had a flashback, a moment of memorial deja
vu, when the present and the past are morphed together by one
thought, when one idea from the past and the present exists in
such a way as to connect the two times around it, forming a nexus
between the two moments. I was brought back to two separate
times, the first being my initial meeting with Onan, when I saw
the muraled dome, the genetics of history, and its depiction of
the events which were symbolically representative of Daem: the
deformed man, the warring races, the worshipers of the White
Eagle. The other was my arrival in the Temple of Time, when the
King showed me the altar to Temis, the God of Time, depicted as a
great White Eagle, wrought in diamond and grasping the altar in
its talons. There was something about the White Eagle that
connected itself to me inseparably, something that converged us
into one form. I had a sense that it was somehow a key to the
mystery of the end times, but I could not make the connection. I
thought back to what Onan had said to me just a few moments
before, that he and Zimri were close friends, and not enemies at
all, while those on earth believed their rivalry was a serious
conflict. Yet while I had two separate memorial deja vu&rsquo;s,
I could not make the connection between them to figure out what
they meant.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; I asked of Ramma, &ldquo;What do you
mean when you call me the White Eagle?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;The prophecy said that our kinsman redeemer, who would
bring us out of the lands of desolation and into paradise, who
would come to us like a giant eagle, soaring high above the sea.
Across the ocean there,&rdquo; he said, pointing to Daem,
&ldquo;Is Daem, the paradise land, wherein dwell our enemies the
Zards and Canitaurs. They keep us off of the island and on the
mainland by force, and here we have suffered ever since the great
wars, in these desolate and barren wastelands, where there is
neither life nor death, but only a hazy in between. An ancient
one with wings like an eagle was to come and rescue us, the White
Eagle, and under his guidance we are to be led to victory against
our enemies.</p>

<p>&ldquo;To them he would be sent first, humbly he would come to
redeem them from the woes of their own causing, but they would
receive him not. Instead they cast him away, and he was to come
to us, to bring us to the promised land. What a blessed sight it
was when we saw you soaring through the sky on your white wings,
and now you have come, my dear Jehu, you have come at last, in
the hour of our greatest need. Come, oh White Eagle, and let us
go to Kalr, our city. Tonight is the Feast of the Hershonites,
celebrating the night that the prophecy was received, and on the
same day shall it be fulfilled!&rdquo;</p>

<p>With that he turned and set off with a step of exuberance to
the northwest, the other Munams and myself following him. He
walked quickly, and it was all that I could do to match his pace,
so that I was left without breath enough to ask any more
questions. From what I saw on our journey, the landscape was the
same across the whole mainland that was near to the coast, and
there was neither change enough nor any landmark conspicuous
enough for me to take any bearings. Without the Munam&rsquo;s
company, I would have been lost.</p>

<p>Ramma led us on a straight course for about half an hour,
there being nothing to steer around, and when that time had
elapsed, we found ourselves in a small, battered city. There were
no great buildings or infrastructure like in Nunami, nor any
complex labyrinths like the Canitaur&rsquo;s military base.
Instead there were only weak, unsound huts, built with a
framework of oddly shaped driftwood and covered with a thick
layer of insulating sod. A road ran through the center of the
city, only distinguishable because it was packed down by constant
use, and on either side were groupings of the huts in
semi-circular patterns, with no space between them left unfilled
by soil. This created a wind barrier, preventing the strong winds
that whipped across the desert lands from harassing the
inhabitants as they worked and played in their communal yards.
Each such grouping had a field of a strange, potato-like plant
that spread across the back ends of the houses, where the fierce
winds piled up loads of nutrient rich top soil from miles and
miles around. In the center of the protected areas, each of the
communities, for such they were called, had a well that reached
hundreds of feet downwards, bringing them almost unlimited
supplies of fresh water. Using these two major systems, they were
able to live in a comfortable manner, not comfortable in a sense
of comparison with the Zards or Canitaurs, but comfortable in the
sense that they had food to eat, clothes to wear, and shelter to
protect them. Under such conditions humanity can thrive, for
happiness is not found in the accumulation of excess comforts,
but in the accumulation of excess love. This the Munams had
plenty of, and from that point of view were more the evolutionary
form of humanity than the devolutionary.</p>

<p>The Munams all wore a sort of close fitting frock, a plain
colored one piece suit that displayed their practicality and
modesty. It is a hobby of mine to observe the clothing worn by
different groups of people and compare it to their
characteristics. As I have said before, clothes do not make the
man, but the man certainly makes the clothes, and it is possible
to judge a person&rsquo;s character by the type of attire that
they wear, in that it is an expression of their tastes. The
Munams were shown by their clothing to be a very friendly people,
for their frocks were hung gently about the body in a manner that
was at once both carefree and conservative. This is perfectly
analogous to their personalities.</p>

<p>When we came down through the center street, which was really
the whole city, for there were no other roads, the people rushed
out to meet us, and when they were told that it was the White
Eagle, they began to dance joyously about in the streets. There
was laughter and play going on all at once, and it was like a
great burden lifted from my heart to see them rejoicing, for it
almost reconciled their sufferings with the Zard&rsquo;s and
Canitaur&rsquo;s ease of life, in that they seemed to be much
more happy, in spite of the circumstances.</p>

<p>Ramma gave a short speech to the people, in which he detailed
the prophecy and its fulfillment and, in general, encouraged
everyone to hope for what was to come. When it was over, he and I
retired to his home, which was rather larger than the others and
formed its own semi-circle, containing as it did both his private
quarters and the official offices of the government, which, while
extremely limited in number, were well outfitted. The door of
this building opened into a short hallway that had several doors
adjacent to it. He led me down one of these and it proved to be a
dining hall, though it was not as commodious as most, with only a
round wooden table with a few chairs around it and some cupboards
and cabinets.</p>

<p>Pulling my chair out for me to sit in, Ramma went through all
the normal duties of host with great ease, and within a few
moments we were eating heartily from a great dish of boiled
potatoes that had been brought in by a servant, or rather, a
deputy minister of state, for such was his title. We did little
talking before we ate, because I was greatly famished and as such
was ill-inclined to be jovial, not that I was sullen, but I found
it hard to be completely relaxed without a full stomach. Yet when
that was remedied and I found myself satisfied and comfortable in
a warm dwelling, I opened up to Ramma and we had a long and
entertaining discussion, some of which I will record here, as it
shines a little more light upon the mysteries of my story:</p>

<p>&ldquo;So, my dear Jehu,&rdquo; Ramma began, &ldquo;I trust
your stay on Daem has so far been enjoyable.&rdquo;</p>

<p>I chuckled quietly and told him, &ldquo;No, not entirely, for
there is a war afoot on Daem, or at least there seemed to be, and
it made quite a bit of trouble for me.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry to hear that,&rdquo; he replied,
&ldquo;But also gratified, for it will help us in our offensive
if they are against each other as well as us. Still, it will be
hard.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;What offensive is that?&rdquo; I asked, my interest
being perked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Our jihad, to capture the lands which were meant for us
and reclaim them from the filth that now inhabit them. You are
our kinsman redeemer, Jehu, but it is not with your presence
alone that we will be brought victory, for we also must act. Ever
since the prophecy was given we have been preparing for a strike
that will catch the Zards and Canitaurs by surprise, for those
are our only advantages: time and surprise. The carrying out of
the surprise attack is the hardest part, and we decided long ago
to dig a tunnel under the sea to bridge Daem and the mainland,
for if we had made a fleet of ships, or attempted anything on the
surface, they would have seen and known what we intended to do.
The tunnel is very long, and it was an arduous task to undertake,
but with much patience we prevailed, and now it is complete. In
fact, it was only completed yesterday, though it was started more
than 500 years ago.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;How is it that you started so long ago and only
finished just before I arrived? I asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Fate,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;All the happenings of
the world are controlled by a force much greater than us, and it
brings everything into completion when it is needed, no sooner
and no later. Many civilizations try to out wit fate, but they
cannot, and in the end they do its bidding. Not, however, in the
way they had planned, and with more consequences than they would
like, at which point they try to change fate again and undo those
consequences, and soon they are in a downward spiral of such
deeds. We recognize that we are controlled by fate, and instead
of fighting it, we go along with it. We know that things will
happen as they are meant to happen, and we knew that 500 years
ago, so it was no great trial for us to work at our task for so
long and not to know when things would be brought to completion.
You see, if we had worried about it and attempted to change to
course of events that history dictated, than we would have only
given ourselves more work for the same end. Stress is the only
thing that is created when you try to alter fate, so it is our
philosophy to take things as they come and trust to the powers
that be. You may think it unsophisticated, but that is just as
well, for what matters is not appearances, but reality, and we
have the two things that matter most in life: peace and
joy.&rdquo;</p>

<p>I agreed with him, for I had found the same to be true in my
own experiences. I then asked him, &ldquo;When will this grand
offensive be undertaken?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Tomorrow,&rdquo; he said bluntly.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Tomorrow? Isn&rsquo;t that rather soon?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Why? Fate has been fulfilled so far, why wait when it
is time to act? Maybe you misunderstood my meaning: it is not our
philosophy to simply let things go as they will. Instead we relax
and let things take their course when it is not in our power to
do anything effective, but when the time comes to act, we act
swiftly and do not delay. In a word, we do not force fate, either
by forcing action where patience is needed, nor by forcing
patience where action is needed.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;That sounds well enough,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;But the
difficulty lies in the correct classification of the situation,
or in other words, deciding if patience or action is
needed.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, of course, but in this case it has been decided to
attack tomorrow, and there is nothing left to do but to attack
tomorrow. But do not yet let your spirits be dampened by the
onset of war, for tonight is the Feast of the Hershonites, and
there will be great celebrating and rejoicing this evening.
Forget about the troubles of tomorrow and enjoy the celebrations
of today, as I always say. And it is now time for the celebrating
to begin, so let us be off.&rdquo;</p>

<p>And with that we both rose and took our plates into the
kitchen that was connected to the dining hall on the opposite
side as the hallway and deposited our plates to be cleaned later
(for even the leaders of a society must do their fair share of
the work). Then we walked back through the dining hall, down the
hallway, and out the door.</p>

<p>Outside we found that the people had already began to assemble
on the road in front of their communities and were preparing for
the festival by chattering with one another as loudly as one
would think possible. A hush began to fall upon them like a
descending fog when we came out, though, and within a few moments
it had died down to a ghostly silence, for all that could be
heard was the wind&rsquo;s constant blowing. Ramma took the head
of the procession of Munams that had formed on the road, and I
took the place next to him. With a sort of quiet anticipation of
the joys to come, there was little movement, and what little
there was, was hushed by a sense of subdued excitement. Then,
with a somber gait, Ramma began the parade down the road, in the
opposite direction as we had come from, that being northwest, and
all followed him as he did.</p>

<p>The sun at that time was just beginning to set, and once we
had crossed one of the larger hills we came face to face with the
coast, the sun&rsquo;s great red form half sunken beneath its
surface. A faint cloud layer floated by and was illuminated by
the twilight so that it stretched haphazardly across the face of
the sun. Never have I seen so profound a scene as that which then
presented itself, with the desert sands and the ocean&rsquo;s
still surface reflecting the last agonies of the sun&rsquo;s
descent into the underworld with such a subtle emotional
undertone so as to render it a subconscious delight. Its
recognized superiority to mortal life forms left us all mute and
somber, but at the same time the freedom felt from the same gave
us joy beyond reckoning.</p>

<p>The march to the sea was slow and steady, and when we finally
reached its shores it was just at the change of day and night.
Several large bonfires were lit and by their light a great
communal dance began, everyone jumping around, running, and doing
whatever their lighthearted desire may have been. Under stars
that shone like the twinkling in a newborn&rsquo;s eye, we had
such a joyous time that it can hardly be described. We were no
longer within the reach of civility or social duty, but without
it we were not mean nor hurtful to one another, but were playful
and joyous, like children without a care in the world. Our little
games and frolics cannot be described with any accuracy, because
outside of the moment&rsquo;s happiness, they cannot be
understood, as it was a spiritual happiness, existing only in the
spiritual realm. All that could be described is the physical
actions that were taken because of that spiritual enjoyment, but
that would do nothing to describe the feeling of the night. It
was one filled with more joy than anything I have known as an
adult, because we became as children in our trusting to fate, and
it was natural, befitting to our natures. Man is not meant to
worry, man is meant to be free from all boundaries, inward and
outward, man is meant to be ruled by only one desire: love of
others.</p>

<p>As the night dwindled away, we grew tired, but instead of
returning to the city, we laid down wherever we were when we felt
that we could remain awake no longer, and fell to sleep instantly
when we did. It was not at all uncomfortable, for the sand was
soft and a warm breeze blew in from the water, and though as an
adult I would have feared sleeping so openly in the unknown, I
was not at that time an adult.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 13: The Big Bang</h3>

<p>The Munams and I were all awoken at the same time late the
next morning by a loud trumpet blast that shook the very air
around us with its intense bass. For the first moment of our
consciousness we were all dazed and could not fully comprehend
the situation, and for a brief time we all sat unsteadily around
the beach where we had fallen asleep. As we grew more awake, we
began to understand what had happened, or at least I did, and I
was frightened when I looked around and saw where the trumpet
blast had come from: the entire Zardovian and Canitaurian armies
were assembled around us, having somehow crossed over to the
mainland in the night, while we slept peacefully, unaware of
their presence.</p>

<p>My first thought was for myself, and what would become of me
in the wrath brought on by my escape, but that soon vanished when
I thought of the Munams, for they were the enemies of those on
Daem, even more so than those on Daem were to each other. We were
completely surrounded, with the ocean on one side and the Zards
and Canitaurs circling us in the front, the former on the left
and the latter on the right. All of them were equipped for war,
with swords, spears, and shields held firmly in their hands, and
thick, leather armor stretched across their chests. The Canitaurs
had especially come prepared, for they had brought all of their
atomic anionizers with them, enough combined fire power to level
the entire world several times over.</p>

<p>Within five minutes, all of the Munams had assembled behind me
and Ramma, who stood between them and the Daemians. They huddled
closely together and quaked slightly in fear, for they evidently
thought that their plans had been discovered and their enemies
had come for revenge. I, myself, thought that they had come for
me, and Ramma&rsquo;s opinion could not be guessed, for he was a
statesman first and foremost, and when his people were in need he
rose to the occasion with all the power and grace allotted to
mortal beings.</p>

<p>Wagner and Bernibus broke the Canitaur&rsquo;s ranks and drew
near to us in the center, as did the King from the Zard&rsquo;s.
They reached us in silence, and for a long moment there was no
talking, for all present knew that something grave was about to
happen, something that would decide the fate of the men of this
age, whether they would pass or fail the test. Bernibus looked at
me with entreating eyes, showing his sorrow at my recapture and
asking for forgiveness, but I had none to give him, for he had
done no wrong to need it. He had no power among the Canitaurs,
but was only a titled commoner, more like Wagner&rsquo;s groom
than counsel.</p>

<p>I noticed that the Canitaurs were not wearing their
anti-electron suits, which was strange, for they had brought a
few hundred atomic anionizers, though I didn&rsquo;t question
them about it, for the answer was evident enough when I had given
it some thought: the Zards had no such suits, and were afraid
that the Canitaurs would destroy them and Munams at the same
time, for while they were allies against foreigners, they still
did not trust each other. I still wore my suit given me for the
raid on Nunami, though I had forgotten about it due to its
comfort. That made me the only person on the earth still wearing
one, the only one safe from the anionizers.</p>

<p>It was an overcast morning, and the air was damp with a cold,
wet wind that blew in forlornly. The ocean&rsquo;s steady swoosh
added to the scene, making it as depressing as the night before
was joyous, and in the bluish half light all was colorless and
hopeless. At length the King spoke, saying, &ldquo;My dear Jehu,
I am very disappointed in you. Not only did you flee from us
irresponsibly, but you destroyed the Temple of Time and the altar
to Temis. Without the White Eagle, the prophecy says that there
is no hope for humanity.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Wagner added, &ldquo;And now the only way left to bring about
the completion of the world once more is to sacrifice you using
the old methods.&rdquo; This he said with evident pleasure, no
longer feigning to be my friend.</p>

<p>Here Bernibus entered the dialog, throwing away his timidness
with one quick motion and saying to Wagner, &ldquo;You scoundrel!
You said that we came to retrieve Jehu, not to sacrifice him. How
is it that you lied to me in such a manner?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You fool,&rdquo; Wagner said, &ldquo;If I had had my
way, you would have been dead long ago. You have no authority
here, so begone.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Bernibus grew angrier, a terrifying state for a Canitaur to be
in, and he was a strong and powerful one at that, though his meek
nature had hidden it before. &ldquo;You would never dare to kill
me in the open, you coward, the council would banish you,&rdquo;
he said.</p>

<p>Here the King joined in once more, laughing, &ldquo;He
wouldn&rsquo;t, no, but I would. Do you really think that we
found your outpost on our own, oh Bernibus the &lsquo;deputy
kibitzer&rsquo;? You know that we have no tracking ability, and
least of all in your own territory.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Bernibus grew more enraged, and the King was spurred on by
it.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Oh yes, you know what I speak of. Your brother-in-law
told us where you and your wife were living, and not only that,
for he also told us when you would be there.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Bernibus became even more flushed with anger and vehemently
asked Wagner, &ldquo;Why, you heartless brute? What could you
possibly value more than your own sister&rsquo;s life?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;It was a pledge to the Zards of our intention to abide
by the agreement, what more precious thing could I give then my
own sister?&rdquo; He spoke calmly and spitefully, enjoying the
end of his long charade of nicety, &ldquo;Besides, the council
was falling for her peace talk, as they always give great heed to
every member of the royal family, and I was not strong enough at
that time to control them, as I do now. Unfortunately for me you
were out at the moment of the attack and able to escape, but
still it was a favorable outcome,&rdquo; Wagner said, sneering at
Bernibus&rsquo; outrage.</p>

<p>But Bernibus was not to be taken lightly, and neither was he
to let the love of his life go undefended. He leapt at Wagner and
grabbed the remote to the atomic anionizers from his belt, where
it was always clipped. Wagner tried to get it back, but Bernibus
was too strong and hurled him to the ground. Then he took a few
steps backwards and stood his ground far enough from everyone to
have at least a moment to react before they could reach him. He
held the remote out towards Wagner, pointing it at him as if it
were itself a weapon, with his thumb and forefinger in position
to set it off at a moment&rsquo;s notice.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Bow before me now, Wagner, or I shall destroy us
all,&rdquo; he demanded with a grim smile that showed his
resolution.</p>

<p>Wagner did as he commanded and fell to his knees in front of
Bernibus, saying in the same gentle, appeasing voice that he had
first used on me, &ldquo;My dear Bernibus, do not be rash, do not
act in anger. Let&rsquo;s talk this over, and see ... and see if
we can&rsquo;t find a peaceful solution,&rdquo; his fear of death
evidently caused him to stammer.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You fool, do you think that I haven&rsquo;t heard that
voice a thousand times before? Do you think that I will fall for
your same trick once more?&rdquo;</p>

<p>Wagner put his face to the ground and groveled like the filthy
swine that he was, for he knew full well that if Bernibus set off
the atomic anionizers he would die. His life was completely out
of his hands and there was nothing that he could do to reclaim
it, except to beg for forgiveness. This he did, saying,
&ldquo;Bernibus, you do not understand, the situation was more
complex than you realize, and I had no choice but to act as I
did. Do you not think that it was as hard on me as yourself? She
was my sister, my only sibling. But there was no other way, I had
to put the advancement of our people over the life of anyone,
even my own sister, as you must do now, putting the advancement
of our people over petty differences.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Here the King interjected, &ldquo;Bernibus, do not act rashly,
I beg of you, for if you set off the anionizers, than all is
lost. Do you not realize that if you do that, all that we have
worked for all of our lives is lost?&rdquo;</p>

<p>It was Bernibus&rsquo; turn to sneer, and he did, raising the
skin above his teeth and scowling fiercely at the King.
&ldquo;What is it that we have worked for all of our lives? Do
you still not understand? You and Wagner plot to return the world
to its former glory, each by his own way, but take a look around
you. The trees on Daem are taller and stronger than any known
before, the grasses are thicker and livelier, the waters are
purer and cleaner, the wind is fresher. You know no suffering.
The prophecy had nothing to do with you, and nothing at all to do
with the restoration of the world! Can you not see that what you
have is far more than you have need of, that there is no desire
left unfilled in your lives, except that of ultimate power? This
world does not need to be restored. Only your hearts have need of
that.</p>

<p>&ldquo;The prophecy was given for the Munams, who were left
stranded here in this desert wasteland, while across the ocean
they could see the great paradise of Daem, the great paradise
that you took for granted. There is to be no restoration of Daem
to its original form, but a restoration of the Munams to Daem.
You struggle to restore Daem, but have no compassion for the
suffering of humanity across the sea. You are the fools, not me,
and you are the ones who have brought us all to the very brink of
destruction, to the ice ages which you have tried so hard to
prevent. Do you not see that Daem is already the paradise, that
the only thing that it needs for completion is the residence of
the Munams? Jehu is not our kinsman redeemer at all, he is
theirs.&rdquo; Here Bernibus seemed to lose his anger and passion
and become meek once more, saying humbly, &ldquo;You have
destroyed the life of one whom I held more dear than myself, but
that is past, and I will not destroy us all for vengeance.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Zards, Canitaurs, and Munams, hear me now and listen to
my words,&rdquo; he continued, speaking to the amassed groups of
the armies that had been listening closely to his words,
&ldquo;We are not separate people at all, we are not different
races. We are not Zards, or Canitaurs, or Munams, we are
Daemians, and it is time that we came together, to help each
other instead of hindering. Look at how much blood has been shed,
how many lives have been lost, must we all be drowned in the
blood of our brothers before we realize that we are one people?
Must we suffer more than we already have in an attempt to undo
what has already been done? More pain will not negate the pain
that has already been felt, it will only result in more suffering
than we have known up to this time. My friends, we need not look
for our redemption in the past, for it has gone and though it
influences us, we are not bound to its suffering. And we need not
look for our redemption in the future, for it is not yet here,
and when it comes it will only be what we make it. Instead let us
look for our redemption in the present, where it can be found,
let us put aside our hate and our divisions and become one flesh
and blood, one body. People of Daem, let us live in peace!&rdquo;
As he said this, the Zards and the Canitaurs and the Munams all
let out a joyous shout of agreement, and there was seen on every
face a remnant of the happiness that had so long alluded them in
their wars.</p>

<p>To emphasize his point of harmony and trust, Bernibus dropped
the remote to the atomic anionizers to the ground. But it would
never land. Wagner leapt forward from his groveling position and
grabbed for it as it fell, reaching out with all his strength.
There was a sudden silence that overtook everyone as they saw
what was happening. Bernibus looked down and saw Wagner leap, but
he was too late to prevent him from reaching the remote. There
was no noise at all, for everyone looked in horror at
Wagner&rsquo;s plunging form. As if in slow motion, his hand
wrapped around the remote and he squeezed it so as not to let it
go. But as he did so, there was a loud beeping sound that came
from his fist: he had triggered the anionizers.</p>

<p>The eager faces of everyone there, of everyone alive on the
earth, was turned towards Wagner. The remote had a five second
delay built into it, and those five seconds were the longest of
my life. Bernibus&rsquo; eyes met mine, and we experienced an
intra-personal deja vu, the converging of the presents of two
minds. His face showed the depths of his being in that split
second, and he was peaceful. Though he was about to be destroyed,
he had no fear, no regrets, and in those five seconds, while
Wagner and the King were frightened and frantic at their
impending doom, Bernibus was as calm as ever. As I looked
Bernibus in the eyes, I could hear Wagner break the dead silence
with a shrill scream that echoed across the horizon and ripped
through the hearts of every hearer. When faced with death he had
no courage, no strength to face the unknown beyond the veil that
separates life from death.</p>

<p>As I turned and cast my eyes across the horizon, I saw the
faces of hundreds of men, whether Zard, Canitaur, or Munam, and
written on everyone of them was a great despair, for they stood
unprotected in the presence of death. It was like the calm before
the storm, those five seconds, and through them time seemed to
stop, to be non-existent, and there was not a sound to be heard,
except for Wagner&rsquo;s scream. Oh, what anguish was written on
the faces of all around, standing defenselessly before the end
with neither will nor way to stop its terrible approach, oh, what
fear filled their eyes as their mortality was made manifest
before them like a vulture&rsquo;s approach, oh, the pain, as
fate stood before their distraught faces and silently whispered,
&ldquo;And to dust shalt thou return.&rdquo;</p>

<p>But then even that was silenced. There was no noise. As I
looked upon them they were destroyed, before my very eyes they
breathed their last and were no more. One moment they were normal
and healthy, and the next they disintegrated, falling into little
heaps of limp skin and bones. In that moment I felt a horror such
as I have never felt before, a complete loneliness, like a night
that never ends. There was no one, nothing, around me. The force
of the blast had leveled the already flat terrain completely. The
ocean was suddenly solidified into the same lifeless, inorganic
mass that the land had become. Across the channel, Daem was no
more. There were no more trees, no more grasses, no more cities,
no more mountains, everything was leveled, decimated. The sky
began to turn a dark, bloody red, and the sun was hidden behind
it. Like a disease it spread across the horizon, devouring the
light hearted blue and leaving only red: lifeless, deathless red.
There was no wind, no sound. I was all alone, I alone had
survived the blast because of my anti-electron suit. I gazed in
absolute horror across the field where only seconds before
thousands souls had been congregated. I looked at its emptiness
and I saw nothing, for there was nothing. They were all dead.
Every single one of them.</p>

<hr>
<br>
<br>


<h3>Chapter 14: Past and Future</h3>

<p>I have no recollection of how long I stood there staring
blankly into the void, for the sun was hidden behind the darkened
sky. I have no memory of that period until I saw two short forms
coming towards me in the distance. They walked slowly and
methodically, as if they were not hurried on by any physical
concerns. As they drew near, I saw them to be Onan and Zimri, the
Lords of Past and Future. When they arrived I was awakened from
the trance that I had fallen into, and I gave them a slight bow,
for I was still standing upright. The look on their faces was one
of sorrow, for no matter how many times they had seen the
destruction of humanity, each time it brought only fresh,
poignant sorrow.</p>

<p>Onan was the first to speak, breaking the silence with a long,
hopeless sigh, &ldquo;My dear Jehu,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;This
age has come to a close.&rdquo;</p>

<p>I could say nothing, for Bernibus&rsquo; face was still gazing
at me in my memory.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Do not be saddened by grief or guilt, Jehu, for it is
what has always happened. It is not your fault, for the events
that you have witnessed do not have their roots in your time or
in this one, but in the very foundation of the world. It is not
your actions that caused this, but rather the accumulated
momentum of all the ages of humanity, for they are history, and
history reigns by influence. There were no right choices and no
wrong choices for you, for the power of the kinsman redeemer is
not in himself, but in the way that those around him react to
what he signifies. In every age before this you have done the
same, as you will in every age after this as well. You were
humanity&rsquo;s last chance, yet it is not up to you to change
their course: it is up to them to change their own.&rdquo;</p>

<p>Here I raised my head from its dull droop and looked
questioningly into his eyes. &ldquo;What do you mean,&rdquo; I
asked, &ldquo;That I did not prevent it in any of the other ages?
How could I exist in any other age but this?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Then you do not understand?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Why else would I ask?&rdquo; I faintly smiled.</p>

<p>&ldquo;These are the Ice Ages, the end of an age of history.
Every time that the temporal continuum revolves around eternity,
it has a new age, much like the years of the earth as it revolves
around the sun. When the atomic anionizers went off, they did on
a large scale what they were designed to do on a small scale:
reverse the poles through an extreme electric charge, by
injecting countless solitary electrons into the atoms. But with
so many of them exploded at once, they did this to the earth
itself, reversing its poles. It was a theory at your time that
the poles reversed about every 170,000 years, this is because
that is how long an age is.</p>

<p>&ldquo;When the earth&rsquo;s poles were reversed, it brought
all to desolation, excepting you, for you were protected by the
suit. But while this is the ending of all life on earth, in a way
it is also the beginning, for you see, Jehu, you have just
witnessed the Big Bang. In a few days, at the longest, you will
die yourself, for there is no food or water for you here, but
inside of your anti-electron suit, your remains will be
protected. Slowly the earth will regenerate, and when conditions
suitable for life have been once more returned, your suit will be
blown against a rock somewhere and broken open. From that little
hole, the atoms of life, your life, will escape into the
atmosphere and grow and evolve until they become like what things
were before you were born. Then the process will be repeated. You
are not only the one who symbolizes the destruction of humanity,
but also the one who symbolizes the rebirth of humanity. You are
the beginning and the end, in a sense, a descendant of yourself,
simultaneously the father and the son. You will be born again
through your own descendants, and will once again become the
kinsman redeemer. It is your destiny, there is no other way. You
are the White Eagle.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;You only confuse me more, what is this White
Eagle?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Do you remember when we first met, in the Chambers of
History? On the dome of the ceiling there was a sculpture mural,
and in it was a White Eagle, holding many lords and ladies in its
talons while it soared far above the lands, and those on the land
were worshiping it. You are the White Eagle. You hold all of
humanity in your hands, for you are the father of all men, they
all descend from you, including you, yourself. You were the White
Eagle, for the altar had no power, the power was only in you.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Those who worshiped you were those who worship time, in
either of its forms, past or future. Those who worship the past
recognize the influence of history, and they understand that
there are taboos and traditions created through mutual
experience. These traditions reign in humanity by keeping men
from actions that lead to pain and suffering. But they do not
understand that while it influences mankind, the past does not
control them, for it is gone, and it will never come again. In
their strict keeping of traditions, they focus on the physical
act of the tradition, while neglecting the spiritual principle
behind the tradition. If you keep only the physical form of the
principle, you have nothing.</p>

<p>&ldquo;On the other hand, those who worship the future neglect
the past and the valuable lessons that it teaches. They believe
that there is some moral advancement that places them above those
that have come before, they believe that the people of the past
were blinded to the truth, and that the revelation of the truth
in the present supersedes the traditions of the past. But they
are wrong as well, for humanity is humanity, and those of the
past were no more ignorant than those at present. The people of
the past fell into the same traps as the those in the present,
and both suffer the same consequences.</p>

<p>&ldquo;While one group remembers only the physical display of
the spiritual truth, the other rejects the spiritual truth
because of its physical display. Those who worship the future
break taboos because they recognize that the mere physical
manifestation of the truths is not their entire essence, but they
reject the spiritual truth as well. When taboos are broken, there
is nothing gained, but everything lost, for the physical
traditions at least lead to the knowledge of the spiritual laws
to those who seek such wisdom. One taboo is broken, but as there
is no satisfaction in the breaking of taboos, every one of them
is broken in succession. Then there is no limit to the immorality
that is left to freely roam the hearts of men, and when
immorality, the breaking of the spiritual laws, is widely
propagated, there is spiritual suffering. When this spiritual
suffering begins to accumulate and is translated into physical
suffering, the people see what is happening, how their very
society is crumbling to ruin around them. Yet instead of
recognizing the truth of what is happening, they see the
traditions of the past as the cause of their problems, and
continue to make their plight worse. This downward spiral
continues until at last we find ourselves where we are now, at
the end of an age.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;But what else is there to do?&rdquo; I asked Onan,
&lsquo;If both the past and the future lead to ruin?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;The answer is in the present, my dear Jehu, for if one
focuses on the spiritual laws that bring good or evil, and acts
according to them, instead of their physical counterparts and
manifestations, then things will thrive and become prosperous.
What is evil brings evil consequences, and what is good brings
good consequences, over time. The ends define the means, just as
the fruit shows the tree to be either good or bad. These
spiritual laws become known and remembered, not why they are so,
but simply that they are so. No one can question why, for
morality is observed through its effects, just as science is.
When people observe that one thing brings good and another bad,
they remember to stay away from the bad things and cling to the
good. Over time these evolve into taboos and social restrictions,
not meaningless laws enforced by tyrants for their own reasons,
but rules that are observed by all because the are the laws of
the spiritual realm and govern physical life. But when the people
forget what the traditions represent, then all is lost, and
either of the two paths that present themselves lead to
ruin.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;But why do not men see?&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Because they are rooted too strongly in the physical
realm, and cannot, or will not, see the spiritual. What they see
as happiness is not the spiritual matter that is happiness, but
the physical actions the represent happiness. What they see as
love is not love in the spiritual sense, only its manifestation
in the physical realm. When they see the happiness that comes
from a spiritual connection, they seek after it. But they do not
seek after the actual essence of the spiritual connection, yet
after its physical counterpart, marriage. This they take and
defile, and when they go through the physical actions of the
spiritual marriage but forsake the very thing that makes it bring
happiness, they are left without any real sense of satisfaction,
without any real happiness.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You must understand that the physical manifestation of
the spiritual force is not the spiritual force at all, only a
bland deception. If you only focus on what you can see directly,
than you chase after only the representation and not the object
desired. If a bird is flying through the sky at noontime, casting
a shadow on the ground below him, and a man comes along, and in
the hope of catching the bird chases after its shadow, it is
evident that he will never catch it, for when he does reach it,
he will find that there is nothing there at all, only the shadow
of what it was he desired. So it is with the
spiritual!&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Yes, I think that I am beginning to
understand.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;Excellent. If only I could tell you more, but I must
go, my dear Jehu, for Father Temis is in mourning for his
children, and I must go to comfort him.&rdquo;</p>

<p>&ldquo;I thought that you and Zimri were his children?&rdquo;
I asked.</p>

<p>&ldquo;You are all his children. He is patient, ever so
patient, but still they fall by the wayside, too caught up in
their false perception to rest in him. Fare thee well, Jehu, may
you be blessed ere you must die.&rdquo;</p>

<p>And with that, Onan and Zimri turned and walked away in the
other direction, never to be seen by me again, in this age. I
took a look around me, and could not bear to remain any longer in
a place of such ill remembrance. Turning slowly and despondently
to the westward, I began to walk over the lifeless mass of what
had been the ocean not too long ago. For how long I walked, I
could not tell, but in due time I reached Daem, though it was no
more hospitable than the mainlands, for all was laid to ruin by
the Big Bang, all was equally devoid of life.</p>

<p>When I came to what had been the center of the savanna, I came
across something that had survived the blast, being unearthed
from its previous burial hole by the force of the
anionizer&rsquo;s explosion. It was a two foot by two foot box,
made of a strange metallic substance with an intricate etching
along its top. Written there in its center were these words:</p>

<p>&ldquo;Temporal Anomaly Box, Number 12, Location: Central
Savanna&rdquo;</p>

<p>I took the lid off carefully, though it was in perfect
condition and I did not need to treat it so, and looked inside of
it. There was a notebook and a pen there, both capable of
producing a large of amount of enduring text. This was one of the
boxes that had been taken back through time in the experiments of
the Zards and Canitaurs, designed to withstand any conditions,
and to hold its contents for countless ages, until they should be
retrieved and studied. I sat down on the ground and began to
write my story down, in order to assist whoever takes the job of
kinsman redeemer in the next age. I knew that it would have all
been forgotten, so I made sure to carefully record it, for it
could mean the difference between the life and death of
humanity.</p>

<p>This was only hours ago, and now I have reached the end my
tale. If by any chance you come upon this in some subsequent age,
I beg you to take heed, for what I have written will surely come
to pass once more if something is not done to prevent it. There
is nothing else for me to say, for this is the end of my story,
and within the next day I will also pass over to the spiritual
realm. What, then, can I say to bring this to a close, for this
is neither the end nor the beginning. I suppose all that can be
said is this:</p>

<p style="text-align: center"><strong>DEJA VU (THE
END)</strong></p>







<pre>





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