He said nothing for a few long moments, so that his next statement might be fully absorbed. “The animals should be totally extinct within one year.” He looked complacently at his colleagues and sat back down.
The room burst into noise. Everyone spoke at once, smiling, amazed and hopeful of this wonderful invention. These good Atlanteans were heroes, so kind and generous to share this great thing!
Edak glanced at Califia and saw the anguish in her eyes. Engor stood up and waited for Chairman Ota to recognize him.
“Engor of Mu, do you have a comment?”
Engor’s calm voice and pleasant smile belied his quiet, somber personality. “Yes, I do, Chairman. Having been recently in my homeland of Mu, I nevertheless am happy to be back in this great nation, and to see all of you, my friends. I have brought with me the queen of Mu herself, Califia.”
He waited while Califia nodded graciously amid soft comments across the room. “I also bring one of Mu’s esteemed scientists and healers, Edak. Edak was educated in Atlan.”
Edak nodded and smiled, understanding Engor’s extroverted words were meant to sell an already-sold group of people on a new idea.
“With your permission,” continued Engor, “Queen Califia has a few words for you.”
“Of course,” said Ota. “It is always with honor that a ruler speaks at the Council of Nations. Proceed, Queen Califia of Mu.”
Califia rose, her large brown eyes smiling. She quickly panned the room, looking for a quick moment into each representative’s face. “Greetings to you. I bring all the love of the people of Mu to you, for we know how deeply important the Council of Nations is to the welfare of the entire world.
“For those who have not had the opportunity to visit, let me tell you of our beloved land. Mu is a warm, sunny place, blessed with waterfalls and rivers, more food that we can eat, colorful, scented flowers everywhere and beauty beyond description. Yet, we have the great beasts, more than most lands perhaps because of our balmy weather. So you see, we too are very much concerned about the animal problem, more than you can know. When we heard of your solution, our ears perked up and listened, for this could change our way of life considerably.”
Califia’s Atlantean tongue wasn’t perfect, but perhaps because of this, her speech seemed charming, even poetic. All eyes riveted to her face. People bent forward in rapt attunement.
“Yet, we are somewhat concerned, a little hesitant. For there are many, many small animals we know and love in Mu. Is it not this way in all parts of the world? We worry that we might also hurt the little ones. Indeed, we may even bring harm to the people themselves. We Murians have such deep, deep love for all of life. If at all possible, we do not bring pain to any living thing, even the great beasts.
“And so, we bring you news of another way we have found to stop them. Another way, that may not be as hurtful to life. Will you listen to Edak as he explains this to you?”
Chairman Ota’s face took a more serious, disinterested look. “You may speak, Edak of Mu.”
Edak took a breath, stood, and smiled. “Thank you, Chairman Ota. I hope you will bear with me while I explain our method. Growing herbs that heal is actually my trade. One of the methods I use to find the best medicines is to hybridize, that is, I cross plants together from different varieties. Sometimes I do this for two or three generations. This is what I did in the case of my golden marshgrass.
“I did this, actually, while trying to find a stronger cure for pleurisy. Quite by accident, I discovered that any female animal that eats this new golden marshgrass later gives birth to tiny babies, at least one-third smaller than its parents. Imagine for yourself a boar that is only one-third the size of the ones in the forests today.”
Mah-Kradl interrupted. “Edak, surely you don’t expect us to try to lure all the animals of the Earth to eat this—what?—golden marshgrass, then wait months for them to give birth. How many generations would it take before the large ones are so few in number as to be harmless? Edak, we have no patience for such things!”
“I sympathize with you—believe me, I do know,” said Edak. “But please, hear me out.”
“It is Edak’s turn to speak,” said Ota. His tone was not forceful. “Let him finish.”
Edak looked sympathetically around the room. “I know what it is like to be afraid of the wilderness. As a baby, I saw a man die in the fangs of a great tiger. As a young man, I witnessed my dear friend taken by a rukh. I know your terror, and I know your loss. But let us not do something impetuous that may, in the long run, harm everyone and everything. We have a responsibility that comes with our great power—to keep the world safe.
“As yet, the explosives have not been tested enough that we know the proper dosages to use, or what the aftermath may be on the Earth. We do not know the extent of the power of the poisons. Will they seep out of carcasses and into the ground, to later poison our wells? This we do not know. Yet, indeed, we all seek safety from these animals.”
A tapping of many brushes impatiently sounded on desks. He looked around and noted the restless expressions. A few still seemed curious. Others were writing.
“Consider the beasts themselves,” he continued. “They are not evil, but merely doing what they must to survive, as do we. They do not know right or wrong, only hunger and want, as do all living things.
“Our intent therefore, is not to punish, but to avert them from harming us. Causing pain is abhorrent to the Murians and, I suspect, to most people. We have a plan that would have the beasts completely extinct within one of their generations—ten years at the very longest, most in less time. Golden marshgrass grows quickly and produces seeds astonishingly fast. I have been working with this for three years. I have carefully watched the results of animals, both wild and domesticated, that have eaten the grass. Not only are the offspring of these targeted animals dwarfed, but they are sterile! The solution is within our grasp!”
Some listened with interest. The Atlantean scientists glared.
Edak noticed their expressions. “Please, consider the aftermath of your methods,” he pleaded. “Could they hurt the Earth more than can be absorbed? We do not know.” He looked at Mah-Kradl beseechingly. “Your solution is wonderful and effective, yet it seems to us to perhaps be too extreme. It might hurt the world beyond repair.”
A short small-boned man stood. Chairman Ota nodded to him. “You may speak, Lodyah of Waydo.”
“Edak of Mu speaks wisely,” Lodyah said, “but his gentleness of spirit would have us suffer for perhaps another decade while the animals run rampant.” He looked at Edak and shook his head. “Progress is too slow with the Murians’ method. We want a solution now!” His arms spread before him and he implored. “Have we not suffered long enough? The Atlanteans have the technology to free us from this pestilence once and for all. And certainly,” he smiled confidently at Mah-Kradl, “if they have the intelligence to invent such wonderful things, surely they know how to control the strength. I say we begin work right away to destroy each animal and make the world a pleasant place to live.”
Another man stood and Ota said, “You may speak, Powok of Atlan.”
“I agree with Lodyah,” said Powok. “With our weapons, our procedure would be deployed and the mission fully accomplished before one year has passed. Imagine complete peace of mind, by next year!”
Now the room buzzed with voices. Life without fear was a dream most people dared not have. Now it was possible.
Califia rose, looking around desperately. “Please,” she implored. “Let us consider all possible consequences before we act. We cannot undo any deed once we have begun.”
But no one heard. It showed in their eyes as they chattered excitedly of this momentous time in history. “What a great day for Atlan—for the world!”
“Weapons like this have never existed before. Are they really as powerful as the scientists say?”
“What better way of proof than in the ridding of
the scourge of the Earth.”
“Ah, the Murians—they are soft and much too cautious. After all, what is the Earth but a huge ball of soil? How can soil be hurt? Absurd!”
“As for other animals, the tame will be sheltered by the people, and who cares about the others?”
Manotheo of Ur rose. “We have talked long enough. Let us vote as to which way we shall go. Either we begin plans to destroy the creatures immediately or we go with the Murians and suffer for another decade.”
Ota got up. “Are there any other comments or alternatives to be discussed?”
All were silent.
“If not, let the voting begin.”
Califia whispered to Engor and Disnak. They shook their heads. Frantically, she looked over to Edak. He felt cold. He glanced around the room, then back to her. Clearly, they had lost the vote before it was begun.
A young man walked to Ota, carrying an ornate wooden box. Behind him walked a second lad, also carrying a box, this one unadorned.
“Let us cast our votes now,” said Ota. “Take the two stones from your desk and conceal them in your right hand. As the box passes you, drop a black stone in the decorated box if you choose the Atlantean method. If you choose the Murian way, deposit the white stone. Remember, black for Atlan, white for Mu. The remaining stone will be collected in the plain box.”
The first boy went to each member and paused as the chosen pebble was dropped in the box. Though the concealing of the stones in the hands made the vote secret, nevertheless everyone in the room knew the results. But it was a formality and had to be done, for this was the way of the Council since its beginning.
Returning to Ota’s table, the boy set the box down and returned to his station at the door. Ota carefully upended the box, allowing the pebbles to roll out onto the table.
Just four were white.
A cheer rose up in the room, then laughter and ecstatic chatter. People slapped their friends on the back and clasped wrists. Some hugged.
Califia looked a decade older. She slowly got to her feet. She was pale. Disnak and Engor came to her side and grasped her arms, patting her shoulder.
Edak struggled for words. “My queen...”
They left the hall quietly. No one noticed. The celebratory noise was hushed only when the chamber door closed behind them.
The one sound in the corridor was Califia’s trembling voice. “Let us hope all our senses are mistaken. I pray they have not destroyed the Earth.”
* * * *
Chapter 18
The night air was chilly, but that wasn’t why Ketzah woke up. No, it was the dream that disturbed him. He moved his head and felt a mass of curly beard on his face. For a few moments he didn’t know who he was or where he was. He wasn’t Edak—that was the dream. He listened to the heavy stillness around him and the long ago scenes faded slightly, but they bothered him still.
Another dream. I was in that place again. Why do these night scenes haunt me? Who is this Edak to me?
He fingered and stroked the now-familiar curls of his beard and pondered. Which is real? Am I Ketzah dreaming I am Edak? Am I Edak dreaming I am Ketzah? Or am I neither man, but someone I’m not even aware of, dreaming of both of us? Am I no one at all—merely a fantasy in the Great Mind? Am I all these things at once? Oh, but I am going mad!
Ah, well. The fact is, it appears that I am Ketzah having dreams of Edak and I must take it from there.
As a child, I dreamed of a boy. I grew and the boy grew with me. Now we are young men. We go through life together. In that way, he is a part of me.
We seem to be connected in mind only. Maybe we share the same mind—the same soul.
He mused on that awhile.
Perhaps there are parallels in our lives, for if we are—at some inner connecting spot—one, would we not both travel similar paths? But how different Edak’s world is than mine.
Master Atel’s voice spoke inside Ketzah’s head from a day long ago. On an outing to the forum, little Ketzah had noticed two visitors from Uruk. Long, light-brown hair fashioned into many braids, unruly beards and leather tunics adorned with strings of bright-colored beads made these men look wild. He was intrigued and a little frightened. Even their voices were loud and unrestrained.
A warm hand on his shoulder drew Ketzah’s eyes up into Atel’s face. “Look not at the outer trappings of a man,” he said. “His clothes and his culture are merely camouflage. You must always look within, to the heart of the man. Be not deceived by these outer appearances or you will lose sight of the humanness of each individual.”
Ketzah lingered in the scene, then returned to his dark bedroom. Outer trappings—is this what I see with Edak? Our paths may be the same, but disguised.
He rolled to his side and straightened his blanket. What similarities do Edak and I share? We have both been given a better education than most children. We both lean toward spiritual matters. At times we appear quite odd to others because of this.
What else? There are no monsters in my world. I don’t have a mark on my forehead that gives me foresight. Any intuition I have comes to me after years of meditation.
Yet, I do share some of that ability.
Bah! I may just be imagining all this. Maybe Edak is only a symbol of my waking self. Disguised and going through my daily life. But then, is Edak pointing a way to a plan—a life’s plan unfolding to me?
If this were the case, what kind of plan did tonight’s dream tell of?
Preparation. For future disaster.
Exactly what the priests have been hinting of for years. We too prepare for some vague future calamity.
He wasn’t convinced. We are the most powerful nation on Earth. We rule the world. Or it seems, we are trying to.
Ketzah frowned and contemplated the military forces of Atlan.
No, I really can’t see how we could be conquered—although the priests here sense its coming. I know them well enough to trust their feelings. But really, how could this happen? There is little possibility of threat from another nation. The other countries are ignorant and weak under Atlantean rule. An act of aggression would cause immediate annihilation, for no one has our technology. No one else has the Firestone, or the horrific death ray.
He pictured the Firestone in his mind. Standing majestically in a building in this very city is the cause of our world power—the red stone itself. What a colossal stroke of good fortune to find such a huge, flawless crystal, nearly as tall as the main room of the temple.
He recalled history lessons of how scientists measured and cut and polished until they had a giant many-faceted jewel in perfect dimension, standing ready to receive the sun’s rays. More years of experimentation passed before they understood the power and uses they could put to it.
Now in these times, the building had a domed movable wall which opened, allowing the sun’s rays to enter, passing through the magnificent Great Crystal, where they were magnified and intensified to incredible proportion, enabling persons to regenerate them into usable energy. This energy lit the nation and powered the airships, water ships and land vehicles.
In lesser doses, the rays were used to heal and rejuvenate a person. This was the highest, most noble purpose of the Crystal—and Falima’s aspiration for her life’s work.
But alas, the energy is now used to conquer, to destroy, to kill. The death ray, a concentrated beam of light so powerful, it burns a hole through solid stone in moments. What an evil abuse of the knowledge of the ages!
Ketzah winced. How did we allow this power to get so out of control? The Atlanteans now rule the world and its riches while other nations suffer.
This being so, how could we be threatened?
An intensifying feeling of gloom settled over Ketzah. The latest despicable idea of our government is to be unleashed on the Waydonians. They plan to use the ray to bore through the Earth to attack these poor wretches living nearly a half world away. What greed! The last free nation o
n Earth, but Atlan is not happy unless they too, are subdued.
He glared into the darkness. I am sometimes ashamed to be called Atlantean. What a misuse of our good fortune!
He pictured the beam burning, melting solid rock deeper and deeper into the Earth, the military amassing outside the country’s borders for its final defeat; Waydonian men, women and children fleeing in terror as the death ray erupts, destroying everything with its intense heat. Thunder and fire everywhere, screaming, crying...
His eyes popped open, for now he saw, not the Waydonians dying, but Atlanteans!
What happened?
He studied the reverie again, and then again. After a long while, it came to him that this might be it! Of course! Burrowing so deeply into the Earth could disrupt something within the balance of the planet—something unretractable and final.
He lay thinking until daybreak. What could he do?
With the first rays of the sun, he arose and dressed quickly. He would speak to Atel. He might know what to make of these thoughts.
Ketzah lived alone now in a small house near the temple. Nenus had retired and he and Finah had moved to the tiny village of Amaki on the far side of Poseidl. Brother Vadi lived there also. Medra had married. She and her husband lived on the island of Aryaz, in Achai. This left Ketzah without family in Poseidl. He didn’t mind, really. Those at the temple were like his family also, and he was never lonely.
He closed the door behind him. As usual, he was skipping breakfast and he imagined Finah scolding at him as he left the house.
He hurried to the temple, alone in the dissipating mist of the early-morning chill. He wrapped his red cloak tightly across his shoulders and walked quickly. In the temple it wasn’t much warmer. He found Atel in prayer, so he left him for a moment and opened the heat ports, which allowed the warmth of the rising sun, magnified by the Firestone and traveling through the many underground ducts throughout the city, to enter the room.
He returned to Atel and coughed lightly to arouse him. “I apologize for the early intrusion, Master. Do you have time to hear me?”
Atel looked up, and a smile appeared on his wrinkled old face. “I always have time for you, my Brother. What is on your mind?”