books led them to be passive. Another man raised an army among his neighbors and took to the streets to execute any he felt to be "impure," those who happened to be a few shades too light skinned. A woman ruled the foothills and commanded loyalty with the edge of her grain-harvesting blade. She engendered devotion among her followers and repaid it with kindness, but many heads toppled from shoulders before that respect came to her from those outside her group.
In the village of Krina, the familes of farmers huddled in stone homes. A group of marauders, several of whom were children, entered town with rifles, torches, and swords. The tender stood and watched.
"Go left!" the leader shouted. "Go right!" he said to another part of his group. The men fanned out and one threw the flame onto a thatched roof. As smoke billowed, people inside began to scream.
The Messenger went to the gang's leader and listened to his thoughts. Good well. Clean stream. Much better than in the south where the water is still poisoned from the mines. Strong homes. We can live here easily. "No more fire!" he shouted.
Three women darted from the home with the burning roof. The men dropped to one knee and began to shoot. Bullets danced on the stone walls and ripped the women's flesh. Screaming erupted from elsewhere in the village and more people ran from their homes. All of the men stopped and began to fire.
The tender drifted among the bullets and toward the homes. He had seen it so many times that he didn't get emotional about it any longer.
Emotional. An interesting word for him. It barely applied to a being of his kind but he couldn't deny the … feelings as he witnessed the violence he had over the past year.
Farmers, drawn by the gunfire, ran through the fields to the village. They were snatched up quickly and dragged toward the leader.
"What is the name of this place?"
The older man he asked didn't answer.
The leader whipped his arm forward and the edge of his blade sliced through his throat. Redness gushed and sprayed into the air. He pointed the long dagger at the next man and said, "You?"
"Krina. It's called Krina."
The leader nodded and said, "I will like it here." His fighters laughed and the farmer struggled a bit.
"Why are you here? What have we done?"
The leader leaned over and said, "God told us to come here. He said you had a nice place and," he stood, spreading his arms wide, "God was not wrong." The men and boys laughed again.
More people ran from their homes and they were fired upon. The captive farmers struggled and screamed.
The Messenger found one home with people still inside. Two women and three children. He stood in the middle of the room and thought about what awaited them if they fled. He turned his attention toward the invaders and saw that they were occupied now, beating the remaining men. Some now pulled surviving women to the leader. They would be raped.
He bent low and whispered to the women in this house. "Go. Into the tall grass."
They looked at each other and they stood up. As soon as they did, they hesitated and then crouched low.
"Go," he said again. They didn't move. This 'urging' wasn't enough. Fear still gripped them.
He straightened up and paused. The Messenger then did something he had not done before.
He made himself visible.
His form was white. It carried a light within it but it was not blinding. He seemed to be man-high, but with no discernable limbs. His head was without a face but it turned to look at the cowering people.
The women were taken aback and the children began to scream. Their mothers cupped their hands over the little ones' mouths.
In the most minute span of time, the tender looked into the women's minds. He saw that they were sisters and they had been thinking of their father. As quickly as he had appeared, he shifted his guise to this man they loved.
He leaned forward and said with urgency in his voice, "Go! Run into the grass! They won't see if you hurry!"
The mothers were shocked but they scooped up the children and ran for the door. They opened it, crouched low and ran to the rear of the home and then into the meter-high grass beyond the village. They were not spotted.
The Messenger gave up the visage of their father and followed them. Moments later, they encountered other farmers who were rushing toward the town. They knelt in the grass and tearfully shared all that happened. They stifled their cries and remorsefully turned away from Krina and moved to another neighboring village.
The tender watched them go. He thought again about what he did. It was a decision made hastily, but it worked. Using the appearance of someone known to the subject worked far better than the occasional urgings he employed in the past.
That their father had been dead for ten years didn't seem to matter.
XIX
OURANOS
154 Years Before the End
He waved the device over her body. When he looked at the screen, he saw nothing.
"At it again?" a lab technician asked.
Ouranos pushed a few buttons and said, "Yes."
The man shook his head. "Next time we work on you, we'll have to remove your stubborn gland."
Ouranos ignored him and leaned over the tank. Inside, a woman's body was suspended in a golden ichor and thin wires led from the back of her head and into a processor nearby. He held up a pane of glass and read the information that scrolled across it. As he put it back down, he heard Karin Baraz on the other side of the lab.
"Bring it higher. Higher."
Ouranos looked and he saw several people crowded around a container. A body was strapped to a slab and the golden liquid streamed off him and down into the tank.
"That's good," Baraz said. "Let's get a reading first." They lifted their devices and scanned the man.
As he watched them work, Ouranos stared at Karin. He felt a twinge of nostalgia, though he didn't know to identify it as such. He missed his long hours with her and Gaia, just the three of them. Certainly, much of that time was spent with him and Gaia on an exam table, but Baraz spoke to them like people. She seemed to care. Now that the others were getting ready, Karin became more absent.
Ouranos sighed and looked down at the woman in his tank. She was attractive, like all the other new ones. Thin with long, light brown hair. He heard steps behind him and as he turned, the technician named Kandall pulled his left arm up.
"What are you doing?" Ouranos barked.
Kandall seemed surprised. "I need to examine one of the nodes in your arm." He furrowed his brow and scoffed dismissively.
Ouranos stood and towered over the man. He leaned forward and spoke softly but firmly. "Ask."
Kandall's eyes widened and he swallowed. "May I … scan your arm nodes?"
Ouranos nodded and stretched his limb out.
Kandall swept a device around the wrist, then the elbow and then the shoulder before walking away.
Ouranos turned back to his instruments and said under his breath, "You're welcome."
He looked into the tank and held his computer over the liquid. The readings still weren't there. He shook his head and pressed another button. One more time. A light flashed on the unit and he pressed it. The information was sent.
Ouranos waited.
Beep.
The device illuminated and a waveform showed a strong signal. He stood and smiled broadly. He looked into the tank and removed the wires from the body's head. He flicked his hand side to side throwing streams of the liquid against the walls of glass. He pressed another button and the signal remained strong.
"Ouranos," Gaia said, "they're waking him."
"Just a minute," he said.
Gaia glanced at the propped up being on the far side of the room and then walked toward Ouranos. "How are things?"
"Very good." He held the unit so she could read it.
Her eyes looked at the graph and she nodded as the signal's strength remained h
igh. She turned to the tank and saw that no wires were connected to the body. "Remarkable." Ouranos smiled again. "Range?"
"With this reading," he shrugged, "hundreds of kilometers. I'm sure I can extend that even farther."
Gaia smiled and put her hand on Ouranos' arm. "You did it! Very good work." She looked into the tank and said, "Very good."
He inhaled deeply and wiped the gel on the side of his work pants. "You helped."
"Just a little." She smiled again and patted his arm. "Come on. Let's wake him up and then we can tell everyone what you've done."
He nodded and they walked to the opposite side of the lab. A couple dozen doctors and technicians had gathered around the tank. Baraz placed leads on the body's broad chest and two other techs connected wires to their medical equipment. She then put a pad on either one of his temples and nodded to Dr. Hikka. With a syringe, he injected a liquid into an intravenous line and it worked its way through the tubing and into the body.
A few moments later, Cronus' eyes opened.
He blinked a few times and looked around. It took a moment, but he began to focus on people. First Dr. Baraz, then Dr. Hikka, then toward the ceiling. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.
"Take your time," Baraz said. "Whisper."
He tried to move his head toward her, but he couldn't. His muscles were artificially toned but he had never moved them himself. He jerked his left arm and it flailed against the restraints. He licked his lips in vain and said, "Is this real?"
Karin smiled and said, "Yes. You're awake."
He relaxed and slumped against the slab before taking a deep breath.
As the others applauded