Help 2nd Edition

Early the following day, as he expected, the king found the generals having breakfast at his dining table. “Stop eating.” the king said, “the Rians are expecting us for breakfast.”

  “How did the negotiation go?” Suba asked, setting aside his half-eaten food as the rest did.

  “Better than expected,” the king answered, delighted by his accomplishment. “Silrab and Adazil will be out of it. We will be dealing exclusively with the Rians and have full control.”

  Mismar asked, “Do you know the prince burned the temple?” He watched the prince burn the temple. Being spoiled and out of his control, he did not stop him. He also knew the king did not react well to people who interfered in his relationship with his son. He tried it once and will never do it again.

  “Someone reported last night,” the king uncomfortably answered. The prince with his special guards had left when he got back. He was surprised his son had more followers than he thought. What worried him, it was nearly twice larger than his figure. If the prince learned well from him, he would leave spies but for what ultimate purpose he dared not speculate. Sons kill their parents for the right to rule, thus, the prince was no longer a man to ignore but watched!

  Mismar said, “The prince told me to tell you he was going to Tugbok and stay there. Did the incident have to do with the Rians?”

  “Not with the Rians but with me. I spared Shadeh’s life and the rest.” The king fervently believed that forgiveness and leniency were signs of weakness. Thus, his verdicts were often harsh and disproportionate to the offense.

  Being on the subject, Mismar took the advantage of the opportunity to advise the king, “I see no problem sparing Shadeh’s life. If you ask my opinion, I'd say we start acting as rulers and not conquerors.”

  Mismar's comment bewildered the king. Changing ways in dealing with conquered people never crossed his mind. He became curious and pursued, “What do you think Odi?”

  “I agree with Mismar. It’s high time we treat them as subjects of the kingdom.”

  Turning to Suba, the king asked, “And you?”

  “I think we have killed everyone who stood against us. Showing leniency is not bad at all.”

  The king gave it a quick thought then said, “In a different way that was what Amo Obib said. You see no problem in setting Shadeh free?” the king bewilderedly asked them.

  Mismar answered the king, “As king, you can do what you want and think best for your people.”

  “Think best . . .” the king paused and gave it a thought then continued, “We will talk more on the subject later. Meanwhile, I want you to start thinking on how we will make our kingdom the best kingdom in the land. Let's go and see the Rians. They will be undertaking a population census today and will provide free breakfast and lunch.”

  No Guards

  The king, with his generals and escorts, headed for the pyramid ship. Along the way, he noticed the streets outside his fortress walls deserted. Only dogs, chickens, and cats went about their way on the streets. On some, he saw through windows, tables with food hardly touched or eaten. The military commanders literally followed his order to have the city’s inhabitance gathered at the west side of the ship before sunrise for the Rian census. That was what they did---forced people out of their homes. This made him reflect on what his generals and Amo Obib have said to him.

  They followed a path of trampled grass threaded on by thousands of footsteps, animal hooves, and carriage wheels through the grassland. Their tracks trailed the contour of a relatively flat open field that led to the pyramid ship parked at the distance. When they got there, a large crowd had gathered at the west side shaded by the ship’s shadow from the early morning sun.

  The pyramid ship stood 482 feet high and 755 feet wide on all four sides. Its smooth metallic-silver surface reflected the sky but not its glare that one could look at the mirrored sun, to their amazement, without squinting at all. Everyone looked at the ship with awe and wonder. Most thought it as god's house. Though nothing stopped them from touching the ship, the people stayed behind an imaginary line, some 30 feet away. A group gathered tighter as they watched and followed their king and the three generals ride by.

  King Arth wondered how they could go inside as they got closer. The Rian’s instruction was very clear---walk through the west side of the ship. ‘Where is the entrance?’ he thought. When he got to within ten feet to the wall, the wall fronting him opened to a normal size doorway. To his amazement, it widened when his generals stood by his side. He stepped back and the doorway in front of him became a wall. He asked his generals to move back one at a time and noticed the openings turned back to a wall. They spread ten feet apart and walk in together. Sure enough, four openings appeared and another surprise greeted them as they looked back. They could see the crowd as though the wall was not there! Mismar tried to touch the wall but each time he did, the wall widened. All four, had fun going in and out trying to figure how it worked until Amo Obib, Ningning, and Nengut came to welcome them.

  After the greeting and introductions, Nengut said, “That's a one-way vision wall,” as she saw the men playing with the wall minutes earlier. “You can never touch it unless configured to be rigid,” she explained.

  “Only your technology and not magic?” the king candidly asked.

  “You are so right,” Nengut replied with her usual feminine smile.

  “I noticed no one is on guard. Do you know that anyone can enter your ship without your knowing?” the king asked inquisitively.

  Puzzled by the question, Nengut innocently replied, “Yes. They are free to come in and out as they wish.”

  The king was taken aback by the simplicity of her answer. “That is not wise. It needs to be secured.”

  “Secured? From whom?” Ningning reacted naively.

  Struck by her innocence, the king replied, “From someone with bad intentions.”

  “Bad intentions?” Ningning retorted, puzzled.

  Nengut joined, “I think I understand King Arth's point. He is concerned with our belongings. The word they use is . . . thievery.”

  “Oh, thievery,” Ningning reacted. “Please forgive my innocence. Where we come from there are no thieves, no army, no guards, and no policemen.”

  “What may be safe for you in your world may not be safe here,” the king admonished then turned to Amo Obib, “Thievery is not the problem. I was referring to your personal safety.”

  “You mean someone might do us harm?” the amo was surprised to what the king was inferring.

  Nengut interjected, “We are a peaceful people. We will not harm or provoke anyone.”

  King Arth as well as the generals noted the Rian's naïveté as they looked at each other, perplexed. The king said, “If you have something of value that is enough to provoke. We have to place guards to secure you. You have so many things of value.”

  “Placing guards will mean we distrust anyone. There is no reason to do that,” Ningning said without hesitation.

  “Do you agree with that Amo Obib?” Odi joined the discussion.

  “I do,” Amo Obib answered.

  Confounded, Mismar asked, “Are you saying you will trust everyone and sacrifice your safety? That is not wise. You are putting your people's lives in danger and you may even pay with your life.”

  “Then we will die,” Ningning, answered with conviction.

  The king was taken at her quick response. He looked at Amo Obib for his reaction.

  “My wife is right,” Amo Obib said looking at the king then the generals. “We have to show trust and leave our safety in God's hands.”

  The king argued, “You must realize that you are no longer in your world. I will have guards placed for your security.”

  Amo Obib replied, “We are extremely grateful for your concern but I will not allow anyone to guard the ship nor any of us. I will have to be firm on that.”

  “You have many powerful secrets. Men with greed will try to get them. They will come in the night and take you away. They will for
ce you to cooperate. They will make you their slaves or else die. Do you want that to happen?” the king asked.

  As the three Rians quietly thought over the question, the king and the generals could not help notice their childlike innocence. They were pondering over something the simplest of humans have an instinctive answer. They somehow pitied them. They all looked helpless, so vulnerable.

  Amo Obib soon realized what the king was insinuating. Nengut had addressed the group on the subject generally. A more specific situation made him consider the king's warning and said, “We will not protect ourselves when threatened but slaves we will never be. We are willing to accept torture and even death for a good cause.”

  Ningning moved closer to Amo Obib and looked at the king showing her support and concurrence to Rian ideals and values.

  The king said, “You people are too idealistic. You will not survive in this world.”

  “Then we may well perish,” Amo Obib, responded sadly and in resignation. “Our ideals and values leave us Rians with little option on the matter.”

  King Arth realized Rian’s conviction to their values. There was no sense in arguing. “You must never show any inherent signs of weakness,” he advised with sincerity. “For your own good, project some sort of power even if you will not use it. Pretenses are often good deterrents.”

  Amo Obib replied, “Pretense is something we Rians know nothing about and thus we cannot take your advice. We will be open to anyone. We will not hide our weakness. We will sacrifice our safety to prove our good intentions. Humans have nothing to fear from us. You can take us now at our most vulnerable time.”

  Suba asked, “How do we know you will not use your machines on us?”

  “We have nothing that will harm anyone. You can trust us. Should you wish to take us now, no one will lift a finger to oppose you,” the amo answered, wary of what may happen.

  Ningning and Nengut stood closer to Amo Obib as a group that supported each other. Fear and uncertainty griped the three.

  The king and the generals looked at each other obviously confounded.

  “But why?” the king asked Amo Obib, with genuine concern.

  “True peace thrives in trust. We come in peace and will trust anyone to prove our intention.” Amo Obib answered.

  “Trust no one,” the king snapped.

  “Not even you?” Ningning asked the king.

  The king uneasily hesitated.

  Mismar noticed the king's predicament, and repeated, “Trust no one.”

  “How will peace come about among humans then?” Nengut directed the question to Mismar.

  Mismar had no answer.

  “It will not,” the king snapped gaining his bearing.

  “Not unless you start trusting each other without reservations,” Nengut added.

  King Arth replied, “That will not happen. It is not inherent in humans as it is to you Rians to trust each other completely. We humans must always reserve some doubts. History has proven it wise and a prudent route.”

  There was a short pause from everyone and Amo Obib took advantage of it, “Peace has a price men must pay and that is trust. For as long as men distrust each other, there will be no peace. Think of it. We come in peace. To that end, do you see any other choice for us but trust?”

  The king and the generals had no answer. Each was baffled knowing the truth in what Amo Obib said. Inwardly, each felt strange. They knew Amo Obib was right but they were right too. Where was the answer?

  “So be it. There will be no guards,” King Arth politely concluded. Changing the subject, he addressed his generals, “Here, you serve yourself and help clean too. But the food will be well worth it.” At his placed, he looked and saw Thel at the kitchen with an apron on her. Pointing, he said, “That's Thel. She's the best cook in the world.”

  “I am so pleased to hear you like Thel's cooking,” Ningning commented then chatted casually as she led them to the kitchen.

  When they got to the kitchen, the king asked, “Do you have anything for us, Thel?”

  “I have something special for you and your companions. It’s a pie we call bibingka,” as she took the pie out of the oven and teased them with its aroma. The king and the generals got their share then mingled with the Rians. As the king expected, the generals savored well the pie and came back repeatedly for more servings.

  “Where is the prince?” Ningning casually asked the king.

  “I sent him to Tugbok. It's a city at the southern border of my realm,” the king answered in a passing manner then chatted socially with everyone.

  Ruling a Kingdom

  After breakfast, the king and Amo Obib went to visit the man Shadeh tortured. Along the way, the king was keenly observant, most especially when they passed through the Rian’s pharmacy. Shelves of labelled glass jars lined its walls. Jars with herbs, tree roots, barks, some emerged in fluid; of colored powdered earth neatly arranged. Somewhat familiar on the counter below, were the mortar and pestle, and the empty glass tubes on wooden stands. The rest of the things on it looked unfamiliar and strange.

  The king and Amo Obib entered the adjacent door-less room and found the tortured man asleep on a bamboo bed. Above and on the side, a familiar coconut fruit hang with a small tube that ran from it to the man’s arm, their intravenous feeding. Seated by the bedside were his wife and two children in white, loose garment.

  The children, on seeing the king, sought shelter by their mother’s side as she stood with obvious discomfort. Fear showed in the children’s little face as they held on tightly to their mother’s gown and stared at the floor as their mother did. The mother bowed waist deep and made a muffled groan of pain as she did. Her discomfort was noticeable as she erected herself with Amo Obib's help.

  The king’s eyes paid close attention to the mother and her children. She was visibly ill at ease in his presence, and the children frightened. He became uncomfortable as Amo Obib noticed it too. ‘Is this how my subjects see me as their king, in fear?’ he asked himself. “Do not be frightened,” he said in a calming way to the mother.

  The mother did not react. She heard so many stories from her husband of what the king ordered done to families to be frightened.

  A gap in spontaneity made Amo Obib interject, “She is still in shock,” then turned to the children; knelt; and said, “Have you eaten?” he asked as he beamed at the little ones.

  The children looked at Amo Obib and nodded.

  Amo Obib asked in a pleasant manner, “You like a red apple then?”

  The children nodded eagerly then glanced at their king; looked at the floor; and slowly moved behind their mother as though the king was a beast ready to snatch and devour them.

  Amo Obib saw what the children did. He stood and to the mother asked, “And, you?”

  “No, thank you,” as she started to bow.

  Amo Obib held her shoulder to stopped her from bowing and said, “You need not bow,”

  “You are their leader. How will I act and address you with respect?” she asked. Uncomfortable, she glanced at the amo then stared at the floor again.

  “My name is Obib and calling me Obib is fine. And you are?” he said in a calming way.

  “I am Teema,” she said without looking at him as she pulled her children to her side. “This is my daughter Dinky and my son Natoy. My husband's name is Dodot.” Though uneasy, she got the courage to look at him and smile. “You are so kind to have helped us,” she said, then looked down again.

  Amo Obib noticed her uneasiness, unsure of how to act. He asked, “Do you know that I chose to free the men that harmed you and your family?” He was poised to observe her answer.

  “The woman named Ningning explained. I do not understand but you are wiser than I and for that, I accept your judgment and harbor no malice to the people that did it to us,” she answered, her head still angled down.

  “I am so pleased to hear that,” the amo reacted.

  “You are a very, very kind man,” Teema added and glanced
at him again.

  Amo Obib gently patted Teema's left arm to put her at ease.

  Teema felt the gentle tap on her arm and this time she comfortably looked at him in the eyes and beamed at him.

  Amo Obib was elated by her response and beamed back then excused himself to get the apples.

  Teema's reaction and reply baffled the king. ‘Here is a woman who herself and her family were tortured and yet forgave the stranger who freed them?’ he thought. It defied his logic, his understanding, but saw a better result and wondered why. “How is your husband?” he asked Teema in a concerned manner.

  Teema answered as she glanced but dared not look in his eyes, “The doctor said he will be fine but had given him something to make him sleep, your Highness.”

  “How long has Dodot served me?” he asked nicely.

  Still avoiding his eyes, Teema answered, “He first fought with you against the Bagobos and was in-charge of the archers then. He has been with you ever since, your Highness.”

  King Arth recalled the battle. It was against the fierce and feared Bagobos and was a decisive military engagement that marked the zenith of his military campaign. The archer’s brigade with him then were those he was most proud and indebted to. They were outnumbered, and he was surrounded and protected by his archers. If it were not for the archer’s loyalty, who bravely stood their ground in the midst of the enemy’s major onslaught, they would have easily lost. “Dodot is an exceptional soldier. I now realize I have neglected my people, more so, the ones who fought and struggled to make me king. Teema, I am ashamed to admit that I do not remember or even heard his name. This will have to change. When he gets well, I want you and your family to see me.”

  The king's admittance of shame and sincerity touched Teema. It got her to forget she was talking to their king and looked at him with a smile and said nicely, “I will, Your Highness.”

  There was something in the way Teema looked and smiled, and the manner by which she replied that touched the king. In that fleeting moment, he felt gratified and overwhelmed by a wonderful feeling brought by his simple humility and care. ‘This is something the sword cannot bring about,’ he thought. ‘Is this the power Amo Obib was referring?’ Before he could say something, Amo Obib came back with three large red apples and gave them to the children. Soon after giving, they left.

  Timely and Fruitful

  As the Amo and the king headed back for the ground floor, the king said, “I thought of what we discussed yesterday . . . about love and fear. It makes sense to me now. Their reaction to you and to me made me realize the difference between instilling fear and what love and caring can bring about. I believed the woman when she said she would harbor no malice to the people that tortured them but do not understand why. How strange. Your sense of justice and values seem to work. I like it.”

  Amo Obib thought it wise to stay silent.

  “I want to be close to my people,” the king admitted, “But, there is a wall that stands between me and my subjects. Is it because I am their king that this be so?”

  Amo Obib gave it a brief thought. “It is because you act always as their king.”

  “But I am always their king!”

  “Be a king when you represent them but an ordinary man when with them.”

  “An ordinary man when with them,” the king echoed. “I have not done that for a long time . . . be an ordinary man, I mean.”

  “I think, too long,” Amo Obib replied.

  The king looked at Amo Obib and grinned. He now accepted Amo Obib's straightforward answers. On seeing a soldier among the crowd, he called the soldier’s attention.

  The soldier ran to him and bowed waist deep then stood erect and said, “Your Highness?”

  “What is your name?” the king asked.

  “My friends call me Dindo, Your Highness.”

  The king freshly recalled how Teema bowed with discomfort before him and, in a pleasant way said, “Well, Dindo, effective today, the king, any member of the royal family, and any high-ranking officer will be afforded respect by simply nodding their head. Bowing waist deep is no longer mandatory. I want you to spread this decree to my people.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Dindo answered, bowing waist deep instinctively.

  “Did you understand the decree, Dindo?” he asked candidly, beaming at Dindo.

  “Yes, Your Highness but I . . .”

  “You need not explain. I understand.” He purposely placed his hand over Dindo's shoulder in a friendly gesture to prove something to himself, “Do you prefer this decree than the old one especially when your back hurts?” the king joked as he smiled then observed Dindo's reaction.

  “Yes, Your Highness, most especially when your back hurts,” he elatedly replied, smiling in a laughing way. “I will go and tell everyone of the change.”

  “Then go before they start bowing when I meet them,” he said as he tapped Dindo's shoulder.

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Dindo beamed and, in a deliberate motion, stood erect, nodded his head slightly then left running.

  It was then that King Arth realized the difference in response in how he normally communicated with his soldiers, his people, and the warm feeling conveyed by physically expressing it. He turned to Amo Obib delighted for he knew Amo Obib noticed what transpired. “You know . . .” the king started unsure how to phrase his words, “. . . when we were with Teema’s family . . . there was a moment there that I wished she referred to you as her king and I, the kind man.”

  “It will please you to know that in time you will be both.”

  With vigor, the king said, “Your arrival is timely. Our relationship will be fruitful.”

  To that, Amo Obib smiled.

  The Orientation and Population Census

  Amo Obib toured the king and went as far as show him the fuel tanks that needed filling through a glass window. The king wanted to go inside but the radioactive level within was extremely high to cause instantaneous death on exposure. On the king's succeeding questions, Amo Obib explained how the propulsion worked. Though the king tried hard to understand, it was just beyond him to comprehend.

  When they got back to the ground level, the population census was well on its way.

  The Rians were well organized. One group took individual data and photos, then gave them their personal ID card with their picture. Another group made a quick medical exam. Once fifty were processed, a Rian conducted an orientation.

  The Rians who did the orientation did whatever possible to make the people comfortable and at ease with them. They told them who they were; where they came; and the help they needed. They made it explicitly clear that they were no gods nor did they possess any supernatural powers. They had them touch their arms which most did. They answered all their questions then gave a tour.

  The Rians took special attention to the children, not by intent but by their nature. They would hold, cajole, and joke that the young ones, with little inhibitions, responded by flocking around them. The sight took the fear out from the older ones that soon the people accepted the Rians for what they were, not gods but merely kind people from a world among the stars that needed their help.

  After the orientation, they were given freedom to roam freely and unwatched.

  Atlantis - The New Kingdom

  At lunchtime, King Arth and Amo Obib walked to the dining area on the ground floor of the ship where people were eating. A number instinctively stood and bowed. The king gestured them to sit and continue eating. As they neared the food-serving counter, the king noticed the servants he sent to help Thel, hastily prepare his table. This disrupted the activity behind the counter and kitchen, and left Thel and other Rians by themselves serving the many in line for their meal. He addressed his servants, “Do not attend to me. Go back and help the Rians attend to my people.” However, by then, the dining table was set.

  The king’s table was lavishly prepared with food to feed twenty comfortably seated. Instead of going to his table, the king got families
from the food line to dine at his table. On seeing an old woman, he personally escorted her and her family. He told the old woman to sit on his chair that was distinctly elegant from the rest.

  Standing by the king's chair, the old woman was reluctant and said, “I cannot sit there. It is for you, the king.”

  The king gave it a thought. “Today, you are Queen of the Kingdom and I, your servant. Please do it for me and enjoy your meal,” sounding as a man who needed her help.

  Disturbed by the request, the old woman asked, “And you?”

  “I will fall in line like the rest of my people. I have been absent for a long, long time.”

  The old woman stared at him then boldly asked, “Can I hug you as though you are my son?”

  The king looked at her and as he grinned said proudly, “I will take it as though you are my mother.”

  They hugged each other and the people around applauded as they shouted, “Long live our king!”

  The king joined the food line and got his meal prepared in small paper bags like the rest. The Rians had prepared for this occasion in advance and have more than enough to feed the population. The king ate at the public area. Amo Obib left him alone knowing the king had much to do.

  The king, visibly overjoyed by the people’s response, took full advantage of the opportunity. He walked around and mingled to as many of his subjects as he could---not as a king but as an ordinary man. In his mind, he wished the prince was with him to see the difference between a kingdom ruled by might and the one ruled by heart.

  Atlantis

  Later that day, the king searched for Amo Obib and found him cleaning dishes with Ningning. He said to him, “I think I have found what I have long been seeking for a long time. I do not know how to repay you for what you have given me.”

  “Just help us,” Amo Obib said.

  “I will do whatever is in my power. In your honor, I will rename my kingdom and this city from this day forth, Ria.”

  “You are so kind. Can we call it Atlantis? In Rian language, it means 'God's land'.”

  “Atlantis, it will be.”

  The Programs

  In education, people, classified by age and intelligence, were led using holographic human-like guides to classrooms where holographic instructors asked the group to focus their attention to an audio-visual teaching screen. Slow at first that progressively got faster and later became high-speed learning tool. They never realized they were in a trance and being taught the Rian language, reading, and basic mathematics. The result would only surprise them later when they realize they could read, do basic math, and speak the Rian language in a course of half-an-hour. Later and through gradual steps, people with higher degree of comprehension took high-speed courses in advanced fields.

  Unable to control his curiosity, the king asked amo, “I know you will say it is not magic but how could you teach people a language without teaching them?”

  “It is very complex process but have you ever wondered how a spider can build a web; a bird fly; a fish to swim without being told how?”

  “Yes, I once wondered how spiders could build webs of similar design without any means of communication.”

  “We Rians, call it preconditioned static knowledge. Your knowledge, be it language or skills, are etched in your brain and that is how you learn, remember, and recall. We know how it is etched in the brain and where it is located. We merely copy it to that location.”

  “So, if you copy an etched face and name in my brain to another person, this person will see the face as though he had met the person before and remember the name without meeting the person?”

  “Yes, but this static memory is fragile and limited to skills. Unless used in the immediate future, it will be forgotten. Once used it will be part of his recollection. That is why the spider knows how to build a web. It is etched in its brain and used.”

  “If I understand you right, you took your etched language knowledge in your brain and pasted to others?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Now I can sleep soundly.”

  The amo laughed.

  The king went through the educational process but not the invited prince who refused to come and participate. The king, on his request, took administrative and management courses.

  On recruitment, Femed and her team synchronized their activities to Commander Nerus’ skill requirements and construction schedule. They needed twelve thousand workers initially and focused recruitment to what is now China and India. At first, the Rians did the recruitment then trained groups did it for them. In a relatively short time, they enticed and relocated whole towns and villages to Atlantis. Nengut became the liaison between the Rians and King Arth, and in-charge of civic and cultural functions.

  Months later, thousands of workers were at Commander Nerus's disposal. Using holographic-trained site construction managers, supervisors, and with a unified Rian language, Atlantis burst from the ground as weed seeds spread over fertile land. It grew so fast the scenery from the palace tower changed daily. The king, who was proud of what he saw, could hardly believe the transformation before him---urban development to a once barren land sprouted complete with roads, electricity, drainage systems, railroad tracks, parks, housing units, and everything city dwellers would need.

  They built, within the confines of the pyramid ship’s huge cavern, the Rian’s administrative and engineering buildings to house offices they needed to manage the projects. It also housed higher learning schools as the initial holographic learning had its limitation---it could only implant principles in the mind. Its enhancement required applications of the principles thru classrooms and laboratory trainings using specialized holographic instructors as well.

  The Rians were terribly busy. With everything they needed to manage all projects confined within the ship, they hardly ventured out and most never did. With thousands of projects going simultaneously to monitor, control, and coordinate, they had no time to spare for themselves. Undermanned, they worked eighteen hours shifts each day, ate their meals at their desk, and relied completely on King Arth to resolve whatever problems existed outside of the project.

  The king supported the Rians, understanding well the enormity of their task. Though he wanted to see Amo Obib more often than he wanted, he avoided it. He knew that if Amo Obib spent an hour with him, the Amo would have only five hours for himself and to sleep for that day. On the few occasions that they met, he enjoyed the philosophical issues they engaged in and relished on what he learned and parted wishing there were more times for it.

  A year after, factories dotted the designated industrial zones. King Arth inaugurated the first steam driven train. A few months, the first steam powered electric generating unit went on limited operation to provide the industrial complex electricity. From then on, progress grew exponentially.

  Though the Rians were open to their technology, they purposely hid something---making explosives. They, instead, used the airships’ powerful laser to blast obstacles at the expense of their limited fuel.

  Before the end of the second year, the king abolished slavery, death penalty, and left the law in the hands of capable people regardless of origin to conduct the judiciary duties. However, the police force and the army remained exclusively Egyptians.

  On that same year, the king granted the Migrants the same rights as Egyptians in commerce and trade. He also granted them the right to buy or rent lands. The business minded took full advantage of it and directly competed with the Egyptians in the huge Migrants market that now numbered over a million. The competition got the prices on basic goods and commodities down much to his liking. However, the Egyptian who became rich and powerful by virtue of monopoly, deplored the king's decrees.

  The Migrants, opposed to where they came from, were extremely grateful and fortunate for being part of Atlantis. They were freed from bondage, social neglect, and of the injustices and abuses from merely being underprivileged in the localities hence they came. Their life had changed far from bet
ter---it was extraordinarily good, rich in quality beyond what they dreamed. Foremost was the respect they got as human beings! Mindful of their blessings from the Rians, they were always at their best to whatever was assigned to them to do. They worked on ten-hour shifts, four days a week with days off staggered such that the projects were never disrupted.

  The king visited the Migrant’s community regularly as he promised. He made sure the Egyptians, the police force, and army never mistreated them. He participated in major community programs with Nengut and, on some occasions, with another Rian. The Migrants understood and sympathized with their benefactors. With all their benefits and treatment, they were extremely loyal to the Rians.

  The king knew social discriminations existed. The Egyptians, with their unique physical features and special privileges during the early years, retained most of the top managerial functions. In time, they became a social class. The term, ‘The Privilege’ was referred to them. However, there were no social distinctions among the Migrants. They mingled freely among themselves despite their physical and racial differences. Although the king created a law on discrimination, he could not stop the subtle occurrence as Egyptians continued to make fun of the Migrants in their local language. He tried to bridge the social gap by being close to the Migrants but was misconstrued by the Egyptian elites as being bias.

  If there was anything that marred the project, it was Nengut's death a little after the second year. She became progressively ill of bone cancer that finally disabled her on the last three months of her life. Never was the goodwill she built expressed so profoundly as on the day of her death. People---men, women, and even children, cried openly as they walked past her hibernating capsule where she was laid to rest. Shorthanded, the Rians had no one to replace Nengut’s civic duties. However, the people (Egyptians and Migrants) assigned to her, understood what Nengut envisioned, and through the civic organizations she created, her projects continued with King Arth's unwavering support. The king, who worked closely with Nengut before she died, enacted the Trade and Commerce Laws soon after her death. The laws regulated the mechanics to conduct business with Atlantians. The laws, in essence, stated: no one can conduct business or enter into trade with Atlantians unless licensed by the Atlantis Government; that the goods traded used no slaves to produce; minimum wage laws were enforced; and human rights respected. Noncompliance to the law meant imprisonment for Egyptians, exile for Migrants, and, outside the realm, disbarment from any form of trade with any person or an entity within King Arth's kingdom.

  The enforcement of the Trade and Commerce Laws was the fulfillment of Nengut's dream and the answer to Amo Obib’s prayer. It was the Rian's tool to instill discipline, control, endeavors at respecting human rights, institute fair labor practices, and equitable wages. Most of all, the abolition of slavery over the entire region.

  The kings outside King Arth’s domain thought the trade and commerce laws as an infringement on their sovereign rights but had no options but to comply. King Arth's licensers and inspectors stringently enforced compliance to the Atlantian trade laws and free to perform their duties within the realms of the other kingdoms. Since the enacted laws served to protect the people regardless of kingdom, the people rallied behind the Atlantian laws that it was hard to circumvent. They complained on the slightest violation and later formed labor unions to protect the workers’ interest which King Arth fully and openly supported. King Adazil, who amassed his wealth through forced labor and slavery, deplored the laws. He circumvented it by imposing higher taxes and intimidation through seizure of land. King Silrab saw the good in the laws complied but in the process alienated him from other members of the royal family and the wealthy whose incomes came from the use of slaves.

  In compliance to the Trade and Commerce Laws, the king declared Tugbok as the port of entry for goods coming from King Adazil and north of King Silrab’s Kingdom. Though it was more logical to have the trading center nearer Atlantis, the king chose Tugbok to help his son. The ungrateful prince thought it an act his father must do, logical or not.

  Altogether, the Atomic Converter Project progressed smoothly to everyone's satisfaction---the king, the Egyptians, Migrants, and the Rians.

  THE CRISIS

  Atlantis became a magnet for human settlement as its population burgeoned from forty thousand to over four million in four years. The king, with Amo's knowledge, took measures to restrict human influx to his city as outsiders came from across the Mediterranean Sea, the Middle East, and southern Africa as they are known today. They diverted migrations to adjacent provinces and kingdoms that could use the manpower. By this time, the city's reliance on Rians to augment food supplies ended. The entrepreneurs took the function and more became rich. And, as the city of Atlantis grew, the neighboring towns and cities prospered, so did the adjacent kingdoms which took full advantage of the growing trade.

  Prince Otil, who had the autonomy to rule south of King Arth's kingdom, stayed in Tugbok. He never set foot on Metropolitan Atlantis since he left the city four years ago.

  Tugbok, the Seat of Prince Otil’s Power

  Tugbok thrived by supplying Atlantis mainly agricultural and farm products. When it officially became the port of entry for goods from King Adazil and north of King Silrab’s kingdoms, Tugbok became the second fastest growing and richest city next to Atlantis. As Tugbok prospered, so did Kings Adazil and Silrab’s kingdoms. Though Tugbok's wealth substantially came from the commerce brought by the adjacent kingdoms, the prince deplored the thought of the realm doing business with whom he considered enemies. He was not so concerned with King Adazil but making King Silrab, whose father killed his mother, profit from their trade, was something he loathed but grumbled secretly.

  King Arth allowed the prince to maintain an army but limited it to three-fourths the combined size of King Adazil’s and Silrab’s armies. The limitation not only curtailed the prince’s power, it also served as a deterrent for the kings of the east from invading his kingdom. Though Prince Otil had the freedom to expand the realm, he forbade him to go east of river Nile---King Arth had a non-aggression pact with both kings east of Nile River. Though King Arth's kingdom greatly expanded to the west but the prince could not take credit as all came forward and freely pledged allegiance to King Arth. His kingdom grew four times larger than King Silrab and King Adazil's combined, without a drop of blood spilled and attributed it to love's power.

  With Prince Otil's army, King Arth placed less time in maintaining his army’s fitness. He concentrated on creating a government patterned after the Rian system to make Atlantis a model city for the other kingdoms to follow. In doing so, he hoped, in time, to encourage the other kingdoms to forget war and live in peace and harmony. But King Silrab and King Adazil were worried over Prince Otil’s growing army, more so, when King Arth openly declared the Prince Otil his rightful successor opposed to the abolition of the Monarchial System in favor of a parliamentary form of government he earlier suggested. In fear of what the prince could do, the two secretly agreed to strengthen and unite their armies while military superiority was still in their favor.

  Both kings knew the Rians were peaceful people and their religion forbade them from participating in any form of warfare but unsure if the Rians would provide war aid to King Arth should their project be jeopardized. Since it was critical to prove this, the kings secretly financed a mercenary group to attack a remote outpost, Mintal, and see how the Rians would react. It was King Adazil who made the arrangement. An attack on Mintal would not be associated to any of them as Mintal was at the south-west-most side of the King Arth’s kingdom and had no strategic value to either kings. King Arth must address the problem as it was in his area of responsibility. Nevertheless, a contingent plan was agreed on for their armies’ immediate mobilization should King Arth uncover their connivance and retaliate.

  Three months later, the mercenaries attacked Mintal and decisively won. King Arth sent an army to recapture using traditional weapons of war: swords, spears,
catapults, and bows and arrows. To this incident, the Rians did nothing---not even allow the use of the trains to transport soldiers and their supplies to the location. The trains had prescheduled activities tied to the Rian projects which King Arth respected! Thus, the soldiers sent to regain Mintal travelled conventionally, by foot, horses, camels, carts, and wagons!

  Prince Otil, through unsubstantiated reports, guessed that King Adazil was behind the Mintal attack. It actually did not matter. With a well-trained and ready army, he was eager to go into battle with any of the kings east of Nile River but not together. Without consulting or informing his father, he mobilized his army to do battle with King Adazil. So certain of his victory, he daydreamed over the thought of boasting his accomplishment to his father.

  The prince knew King Adazil had fortified all river crossings to his kingdom. His battle plan was to bypass these fortifications and attack where the king was most vulnerable, from the rear through the Bucana Gorge passage. However, the gorge was at the northern fringe of King Silrab’s domain and a fortification guarded its entrance. Nevertheless, he was unconcerned. Once his army crossed the river, King Silrab had no choice but grant safe passage. King Silrab had only 19,000 soldiers spread over his kingdom, from what he was informed, against his concentrated 30,000. He sent General Irag to inform King Silrab of his plan with leave to hint on the prince’s option to attack King Silrab’s kingdom instead, if the king refused.

  Though the prince information was right on the 19,000 soldiers King Silrab had, he was unaware of recent developments---unaware that the 19,000 soldiers were concentrated and not far from the fortified garrison at the gorge’s entrance!

  General Irag and King Silrab

  King Silrab, informed of Prince Otil’s military buildup at the river crossing, was with his generals at the war room planning a military strategy on a minute’s notice to attack Prince Otil’s army should his army cross the river, Nile. “It would seem that Prince Otil is mobilizing his entire army without King Arth’s knowledge,” a general commented.

  King Silrab, a cautious man, gave the general a look. To this, the general continued to explain, “Prince Otil’s mobilization is not meant to attack us otherwise King Arth should have mobilized his army but has not. The prince is not a military tactician but definitely not a fool to attack at one focal point whose terrain is overwhelmingly to his disadvantage. The area’s topography will more than offset the prince’s numerical superiority should we attack. The move . . .” he stopped as a soldier entered the room and spoke to the king.

  The king, on hearing the message, asked the generals, “Who knows of Prince Otil’s general named Irag?”

  “I met him once,” a general commented. “He is Prince Otil’s best friend and a high-ranking officer in his army. Much like the prince, he is arrogant. All muscle and no brain,” he added.

  “The muscle head is here with a message from the prince. Let me hear him before we conclude our plan,” he said, then left the room with a couple of his generals.

  King Silrab sat on his throne flanked by two generals. He signaled the guard at the door to let General Irag enter the throne room.

  General Irag held a sealed letter and was arrogant as he casually walked looking around leisurely at the thrones’ hall furnishings. The robust general on the king’s right, irritated by general’s discourteous act, leaned and said to the king, “Do you want me to cut his head?”

  “Let me hear him first,” the king answered in a low voice without turning his head.

  General Irag was about to step up to the king’s podium when the same general stood between his king and General Irag with his hand on his sword. His eyes stared in challenge at General Irag.

  General Irag stopped on his track. He sensed the tension and was intimidated by a larger man before him holding the sword’s handle still in its scabbard. He said as he looked at the general, “I bring a letter from my prince, Prince Otil, to your king,” in a courteous manner.

  “I will give it to my king if you don’t mind,” the general said sternly and got the letter from General Irag’s hand and passed it on to his king.

  King Silrab, agitated, remained calm, more so when the letter requested safe passage through Bucana Gorge, a gorge that lead to the rear of King Adazil’s kingdom. He said to himself, ‘I must not antagonize the prince’s plan.’ “The prince is rather vague in his letter,” he said passingly. “Is he asking permission to use Bucana Gorge or merely informing me of what he intends on doing?”

  “The Princes’ army is crossing the Nile as we speak, thus, merely to inform,” General Irag said with authority and acted commandingly. “You are in no danger as long as you grant the prince’s simple request . . . lest he diverts his attention and head here instead,” the General Irag advised with a malicious grin.

  “I no longer have an appetite for war,” the king said, acting his way through. “Why is the prince waging war against King Adazil?” he asked casually.

  “King Adazil instigated the attack on Mintal and must pay,” the general said with authority.

  “Mintal?” King Silrab feigned ignorance. “Where is that?”

  “West of Atlantis,” he snapped discourteously.

  “Is King Arth aware of what is going on?” the king asked as he schemed.

  “No, and the prince told me to tell you to keep King Arth blind and out of it . . . the prince wants to surprise his father of his coming victory.”

  “I prefer having the prince as my neighbor rather than King Adazil. Please tell the prince, I will keep his plans a secret and grant him safe passage to the gorge,” sounding congenial. “However, his army must stay within the confines of the dried river bed lest it be misconstrued as preparing for battle against my kingdom.”

  Familiar with the terrain, he replied, “I understand and will relay your condition to my prince.”

  “I will send twenty of my soldiers with you as escorts to ensure the prince army’s safe passage through my domain and will inform the garrison commander at gorge’s entrance to allow safe entry to the gorge for the prince’s army to use. Please tell the prince I wish him success and look forward to a fruitful relationship between his kingdom and mine.”

  Pleased with King Silrab’s blessing and message, General Irag left in good spirit with the news he will bring to his prince.

  King Silrab’s War Plan

  Soon after General Irag left the room, King Silrab, fuming mad, went back to the War Room. By coincidence, King Adazil’s most trusted general, General Sidro, was his guest and was called to the War Room.

  King Silrab, General Sidro, and the king’s generals stood around a table with a large map of the region’s topography. The king briefed General Sidro as he illustrated Prince Otil’s plan and concluded, “Prince Otil’s army is crossing the Nile and will attack your king’s kingdom from the rear through Bucana Gorge. With thirty-thousand men, it will take them a day and a half to cross the Nile River and another two days to reach the gorge’s entrance.”

  Distressed, General Sidro commented with grave concern, “Prince Otil’s plan will work if you allowed his army to use the gorge. My king’s armies are concentrated at the Nile River crossings. Redeploying the army will take time and too late to do anything unless you give my king time to mobilize.”

  “King Adazil remobilizing his army is not necessary. You and I will make the gorge the prince’s army’s graveyard.”

  The general was utterly surprised at the king’s statement. “I came here with only twenty-five military escorts.”

  “That is more than sufficient,” the king replied.

  Clueless and eager to know, General Sidro said, “Please explain.”

  “Are you familiar of the terrain at Bucana Gorge?”

  “Very familiar. It was the route I took to get here.”

  King Silrab explained his battle plan and concluded, “When the front-end of Prince Otil’s army nears the gorge’s end at your side,” pointing the gorge’s exit on the map, “m
ost, if not all, of his army will be inside the gorge. If you . . .” he continued, then, with a glint in his eyes, a grin, looked at the general and asked, “What do you think?”

  “What if the prince does not take the bait?” General Sidro asked for contingencies.

  “The prince’s numerical advantage will not mean much if he uses the dry river bed, the only route they can take to the gorge. There are very few places where the Princes’ army can climb out of it. The terrain there is very much in my favor. My nineteen-thousand-army is not far and will immediately mobilize it. Either ways, victory is mine but my army will have minimal casualty and material losses if the prince uses the gorge. Understand what I mean?”

  “I understand you completely. Atlantis is ours!” General Sidro hailed. “I will leave immediately and assure you no soul will exit the gorge at King Adazil’s end. I will send a courier to inform King Adazil of what we jointly intend to do. My king will not miss this excellent opportunity. We will meet each other at valley below Bansalan passage and march to Atlantis together as one army.”

  ARMIES AT WAR

  Carnage at the Gorge

  The sun had just set. Prince Otil’s thirty-thousand-army had crossed the Nile River and camped within the wide and dry river bed on King Silrab’s domain. On one side of the dry river bed was an imposing vertical sandstone wall, hundreds of feet high that followed the dry river’s contour. The other side was a natural barrier of eroded earth wall some twenty feet high scraped by the river’s seasonal flow. A mile and a half away was Bucana Gorge’s entrance.

  In the absence of their commanding generals, five army officers headed for the prince’s imposing tent to seek detailed orders for the following day’s march. Worried on a possible entrapment within the gorge, they needed an order to send the cavalry first before the foot soldiers to secure the way through the gorge.

  Loud music and boisterous laughter from the drunken men and women came from within the prince’s tent. It was easy to surmise the sexual and drinking orgy going on inside that started when women were brought in earlier. The special guards at the tent’s entrance held back the officers’ entry but reluctantly allowed one to enter. It did not take long for that one officer to be thrown out of the tent and shove to the ground by the guards that escorted him inside. The guards mocked and laughed at him. “You should be thankful the prince did not cut your head,” said the guard as he booted him to the ground and laughed after.

  Humiliated, the officer dusted off the dirt from his uniform as he stood then walked back to his group.

  “What happened?” a waiting officer asked in disbelief to what he saw.

  “Fuck those drunken idiots,” the booted officer said in disgust as they walked away. “I nearly lost my head for a good cause!” he said in subdued anger.

  “What will we do?” someone asked.

  “Obviously, nothing and march in the gorge on first light,” the officer replied.

  “What about the cavalry going in first . . . our insurance,” another asked with trepidation.

  “Will you give the order?” the officer asked.

  “Not me,” came the instantaneous reply. The prince, not long ago, had beheaded a fellow officer for giving an order in the absence of the prince. The prince admitted the officer did the right thing but cut his head just the same. The prince will never tolerate his prerogative superseded. It was an example he showed to everyone.

  The booted officer asked again, louder this time, “Will anybody here give the order?”

  There was silence.

  The Slaughter

  It was way pass noon the following day when the prince came out of his tent in loin cloth. Seven of the army’s generals followed, clad in their undergarment as their king, and some generals held their aching head. They bathe in the autumn sun as they stretched out their limbs and, at times, covered their nose from the occasional dust stirred by supply wagon as it passed a stone throw from them. “Where is my cavalry?” the prince asked one of the special guard on duty.

  Pointing, the guard replied, “Over there my prince. A thousand of them.”

  The prince looked and saw saddled horses tied to brushes and the cavalrymen loitering around. “Where are the rest?”

  “Seven thousand spearheaded the march. They are deep in the gorge together with the foot soldiers,” the guard reported.

  “Have someone prepare our breakfast.”

  “It’s pass noon my prince. Would you prefer lunch prepared?”

  “So be it. I like to bathe,” the prince laconically said.

  “I will have it ready, my prince,” the guard replied.

  An hour later, the prince and his generals, dressed in military uniform, saddled their horse fully armed. Together with the thousand cavalrymen, they rode towards the gorge’s entrance half a mile away by the side of the supply wagons that moved on. At that same time, the prince’s seven-thousand strong cavalry was a quarter mile away from the gorge’s exit. The few scouts sent ahead were ambushed and killed.

  At the gorge’s exit and at the top of the ridge, a lookout signaled with both arms waving two colored flags upon the sight of Prince’s Otil marching army within the gorge whose widest part was but seventy feet and flanked by vertical sandstone walls no less than a hundred feet tall. General Isidro, who eagerly waited for the signal, saw the waving flags from a distance. With over five thousand oxen and horses herded near the gorge’s exit, he ordered his men and local villagers, to get the herded animals to stampede. Spooked and driven by fire, the animals panicked and dashed to the only escape it had, through the gorge. In minutes, a mass of hysterical oxen and horses galloped wildly headed head-on at Prince Otil’s army within the gorge.

  The seven-thousand cavalrymen that spearheaded Prince Otil’s army had no inkling of the looming danger ahead until their horses became restless. Soon, they heard rumblings that progressively got louder. For a moment, they wondered what the sound was until someone shouted, “Stampede!” By then, the cavalry horses had gone wild, unseating most of its riders. The same horses stampeded and crushed unseated cavalrymen in its wake as it galloped in a wild sprint away from where the sound came. The horrid scene of panic, mass confusion, and screams of men unseated from their horse and trampled on the ground, rippled backward toward the foot soldiers behind---over twenty-thousand marching men. But their ordeal has yet to end as the unstoppable mass of General Sidros’s stampeding herd was fast approaching in full charge. The animals’ hooves stumped the earth violently, over a ton of force from each of its four legs! Its sound rumbled and magnified by the gorge’s high walls like a close series of thunder from a thunder storm at its worse.

  At the same moment, General Sidro ordered the stampede at the gorge’s exit, the prince on horseback along with a thousand of the prince’s cavalry guards, were waiting their turn to enter the gorge’s entrance. The prince, oblivious to the danger, saw an arrow shot at the top of the ridge. Dark smoke trailed it as it flew skyward. Before the arrow peaked on its way up, archers within the garrison lined the top of the twenty-foot high garrison walls. In seconds, thousands of arrows rained down on the prince’s cavalrymen. Simultaneously, three-thousands of King Silrab’s infantrymen barged out of the garrison; charged; secured the gorge’s entrance and simultaneously piled, in a rush, the captured supply wagons, one on top of another, at the gorge’s entrance and set it on fire. The huge bonfire blocked the only exit Prince Otil’s army had and sealed their fate inside the gorge.

  Prince Otil’s confident posture on his horseback changed when he realized the entrapment he got his army in. Wide-eyed and griped in fear was made worst when he saw King Silrab’s cavalry charged towards them. Beyond the arrows range and at the spar of the moment, he ordered his remaining cavalry to retreat. Some hundred followed him. The rest of his thousand cavalrymen fell from raining arrows and those that survive it were later slaughtered by the foot soldiers that came immediately soon after.

  The carnage within the gorge was dreadful. The
strong stench of blood was heavy in the air. The gorge’s walls splattered with blood alongside bloody handprints and finger clawing traces. Loud and weak sounds of moans and cries for help came from heaps of crippled and crushed bodies on the gorge’s floor reddened in blood. Soon after, General Sidro and King Silrab’s foot soldiers went in at both ends of the gorge. They finished off the dying with spears and swords and shot arrows to those who hid in small crevice within the gorge’s wall or clung to it only to meet their death later from the hands of blood crazed opposing soldiers bent on killing all of them.

  Prince Otil and his special cavalry guards were chased by King Silrab’s cavalrymen. Outnumbered, he ordered a courier to ride out and seek his father’s help as he diverted the chasing cavalry’s attention, the only heroic deed he did.

  The courier was cunning. The moment he got his mission order, he stripped himself of his uniform and sword leaving him in his tunic and a hidden dagger. He headed south rather than west, away from Metropolitan Atlantis and deeper in enemy territory. Who would suspect a rider riding away from his homeland without a weapon on him was his plan. He rode in full gallop between towns and villages within enemy territory without an incident and stole horses along the way to replace his exhausted one. He repeated it almost the entire night. Before sunrise he stole a boat moored by the river bank and crossed the Nile River. Safe within King Arth’s territory, he commandeered a horse and headed to intersect a railroad track. He got there in time. A freight steam-driven train was in sight headed for Metropolitan Atlantis.

  The freight train operator, on seeing a man standing and waving at the middle of the rail tracks, pulled the brakes and stopped the train. He helped the courier who hardly had the strength to climb up the train operator’s cabin. The courier hastily gulped water and took large bites off the bread given, then lay on the cabin’s floor. When the train operator asked him, what had happened, he merely replied, “I have an urgent message for our king,” and fell asleep from exhaustion.

  The freight train stopped at the heart of the metropolis before noon. The courier saved over three days had he taken the direct route to the metropolis on horseback and, most likely, would not have made it. He commandeered a horse; rode through Atlantis’ busy streets witnessing military mobilization in chaos. Egyptian men line up to get their body armor and weapons from the armory. Horses, oxen, wagons, and anything an army needed clogged the city streets heading for rendezvous points. When he got to the palace and in the absence of the king, he saw General Odi busy coordinating the mobilization with his men. He hurriedly approached the general. “General Odi, sir, I bring an urgent message for the king from the prince. Where can I find him?” he asked after curtly nodding his head.

  “Follow me. I’m going to see him.”

  As both men briskly walked, the courier curiously asked, “Are we mobilizing to give aid to the prince?”

  General Odi was amused by the question and grinned. “Why should the prince need aid? He has a larger and better army than the king.” General Odi replied. “King Adazil’s army crossed the Nile River. That’s an act of aggression that will be dealt with swiftly,” he forcefully added with an air of confidence.

  The courier, being an officer of the prince’s cavalry, realized the general was unaware of the military campaign launched by the prince against King Silrab. It dawned on him that King Arth was not prepared to do battle on two fronts. “This will be a bad day for the king,” he sighed.

  “Why?” General Odi reacted in surprise as they walked.

  “King Silrab attacked and trapped the prince’s army at Bucana Gorge. I was sent here to seek help from the king.”

  “The prince against Silrab at Bucana Gorge?” the general reacted aloud in shock.

  Uneasily the courier answered, “Yes sir!”

  General Odi realized the gravity of the new situation. “This is something the king must hear immediately,” he said and jogged with the courier as they headed for the adjacent building to the War Room without a word exchanged.

  King Arth, with General Mismar and Suba, stood near a large table with a map that depicted all three kingdoms in the region. Colored wooden icons representing military units were laid out. Black icons, representing King Adazil’s army, were packed together in disarray above the word ‘Bansalan Pass’. North of it, was Prince Otil’s army icons colored red neatly arranged in battle formation. Similarly, King Arth’s army, in blue icons, was south of the Bansalan Pass. His army formed a wide-opened ‘U’ that completely blocked the way out of the pass. The layout meant one thing---the battle plan was agreed on and only waited execution!

  The atmosphere in the room had no sense of urgency though the general mobilization outside was chaotic. As seasoned military men, they knew it was normal and would settle down hours after and were engaged in casual conversation. The atmosphere abruptly changed when General Odi barged in the room with the courier. They walked hurriedly towards the king and got the courier to stand in front of him. The Courier was tongue-tied that the king commanded forcefully, “Speak.”

  “I bring bad news, Your Highness. Prince Otil ordered me to seek for your help as his army is trapped,” said the courier.

  General Mismar reacted, “The prince engaged in battle this early. Trapped?!” He looked at the king for an answer.

  “I’m as surprise as you,” the king responded without signs of distress. He then addressed the courier, “Is that all?”

  “Yes, Your Highness. The message was passed on to me while we were being chased on horseback.”

  General Odi saw the king was concerned but unalarmed by the message. He prodded the courier, “Tell him with whom and where.”

  The courier replied, “With King Silrab at Bucana Gorge, Your Highness.”

  “With King Silrab . . . Bucana Gorge?!” the king roared in incredulity.

  General Suba, alarmed, exclaimed, “Our plans were based on confronting King Adazil with prince’s army participating.”

  “That changes the scenario completely,” General Mismar interjected. He was the king’s military strategist and had high regard for his talent. “Silrab is no fool when it comes to war strategies. I’d rather fight Adazil with a thousand less men than Silrab with a thousand more. He is cunning! The prince’s act was premature and not planned at all.”

  The king reacted, “The young are impulsive and inclined to use muscle than brain,” then asked, “How many of prince’s army were trapped?”

  “Twenty-nine-thousand of the thirty, Your Highness,” the courier snapped.

  The king was stumped. He asked as he stared at the courier with unease, “You seem so sure of your numbers, why?”

  “It was the supply wagons that were going in the gorge. The supply wagons always stay at the rear of a marching army, Your Highness.”

  The king understood and believed the courier’s number, twenty-nine thousand. “How many soldiers did the prince have when you left?”

  “When I rode out, he had less than a hundred cavalrymen.”

  What the courier said was something the king did not want to hear. He needed his son’s army badly in the campaign against King Adazil. He was deep in thought as the reality and criticality of the situation sunk.

  General Mismar said to King Arth with a sense of trepidation, “I need to ask a question to the courier.”

  The king nodded.

  General Mismar had the courier to face him and said in a very deliberate manner, “I want you to think very carefully before you answer . . . Did you notice anything strange while you were with the prince . . . anything?” he stressed.

  King Arth looked at Mismar with an inkling of what the general was up to, but hoped it was not what he thought. He then turned to the courier eager to hear his answer.

  The courier replied, “We must have angered the gods.”

  “What made you say that?” the king asked, looking intently at the courier.

  “We all heard a continuous sound of rumblings coming from the directio
n of the gorge while I was with the prince.”

  “Loud rumblings?” Mismar stressed the words.

  “More like rumbling thunders. I was some distance away from the gorge and, still, I heard it.”

  Mismar looked at the king. “Remember the ‘what-if’ war simulation we played with the Bucana Gorge considered years ago?”

  “I do . . . stampede,” King Arth replied with dismay. He remained silent as he considered the outcome of a well-executed stampede with Prince Otil’s army within the gorge then said to the courier, who looked haggard and tired, “There is food next room. Help yourself and rest after.”

  When the courier left, King Arth turned and viewed the map on the table. The generals positioned themselves around it with General Mismar on the king’s right side where he always stood when with the king.

  The king unceremoniously swept the prince’s army icons to the side of the table with his right arm. “I need two army icons,” he said without referring to anyone then leaned on the table with both hands and stayed motionless as he looked down at the map.

  Mismar, anticipated what the king may need, had army icons in his hand and handed the green icon to the king and held on to others.

  The king got and placed the green army icon right at the entrance of Bucana Gorge within King Silrab’s territory on the map. “That will represent Silrab’s army,” he explained then got the red icon and said, “This will be the prince’s army,” and held on to it for a moment then placed the icon on its side next to King Silrab’s standing army icon, “Consider the prince’s army annihilated . . . gone,” he stressed in a low voice.

  The generals understood what the king meant---they were present during the stampede simulation they did many years ago. They stayed silent then General Suba wondered aloud, “Why would Adazil dare attack us on a guess that King Silrab could annihilate the prince’s army? Too high a price to gamble.”

  “He did not guess,” Mismar snapped, “He was certain! With the prince’s army out of the way, nothing can stop King Adazil from going through Bansalan Pass and attack Atlantis from the north.”

  “Now it makes sense,” General Suba thought aloud. “Silrab has to move his army and attack from the south!” he concluded.

  Mismar reacted, “He has to, to insure victory!”

  The king heard General Suba and Mismar. Without a word said, he took King Silrab’s army icon and laid it across the Nile within his kingdom.

  Mismar said to the king, “I surmise the Toril incident triggered this war. You should have talked to the prince when I informed you of his plans to wage war against any of the kings months ago.”

  “I should have and now paying for it. Where do we stand?” he asked Mismar without taking his eyes off the map.

  Mismar stared at the map. The icons on it seemed like chess pieces in his mind. With both hands, he repositioned King Arth’s army icons and lumped them together over the word Metropolitan Atlantis. He took King Adazil’s fort icon; place it north of the metropolis and said, “King Adazil's army will come from the north thru Bansalan Mountain Pass. Their presence there will prevent reinforcement from the north-west region. He has over twenty-thousand men.” He took King Silrab’s fort icon and placed it south of the metropolis and said, “King Silrab's army will come from the south and poised to cut reinforcements from the southwest. He has nineteen thousand. The two armies will converge at Matina Crossing late afternoon on the third day and will march and be here three days after. Altogether, we have a little over fourteen-thousand against thirty-nine-thousand. We cannot defend an unfortified metropolis nor can we meet any of their army head on. We have a better chance if we take our army and retreat southwest and meet up with the three thousand men we sent to Toril. Then we . . .”

  “Then recruit, train an army, and retake Atlantis?” King Arth asked sarcastically.

  “Yes!”

  “They’d be invincible by then.”.

  “Invincible?” Odi echoed.

  “They would have access to resources to modernize their army. We have no chance of winning against a modern army in addition to their superiority in numbers.”

  “The Rians will stop them!” Odi interjected.

  “With words?” the king snapped. “They will never get the Rian technology - that I am certain. But who will stop them from using the massive amount of materials stocked at the Rian warehouses and convert them for warfare? Our army’s sword is no match against swords made of Rian steel. It will cut our sword in half easily!”

  Bluntly, Mismar said, “We need time to prepare and defend Atlantis. Time, we do not have. Our situation is hopeless unless the Rians comes to our aid. There is no way around it. The Rians must give us time to prepare and defend Atlantis else we have no chance of winning. We need the migrant’s help.”

  Suba joined, “Even if we get the Migrants, we have less than seven days to train them. The worst part is, we don’t have the weapons to train them with. The weapons our soldiers have are the only weapons we have. We have none to spare. You must also consider that Metropolitan Atlantis has no perimeter defenses. Attack can come anywhere from over forty miles of perimeter. That by itself is nightmare of a problem. The metropolis is just not prepared to go into war.”

  The king briefly paused then said in a sense of urgency, “We need the Rian and Migrant’s help. Signal the Rians to tell Amo Obib I am coming over for an urgent meeting. Mismar, present me a war plan without interrupting the Rian project,” he instructed and hurriedly walked out of the room; the building; took the nearest saddled horse at the courtyard; and rode off in full gallop.

  Need for Migrant’s help

  The king, on horseback, took the city’s main boulevard that headed straight towards the pyramid ship from the king’s palace. Amo Obib, informed of the king’s arrival, wasted no time. He ordered Goopersh to send an airship to pick up the king. The airship intercepted the king a mile away from the citadel and brought him to the pyramid ship. The king wasted no time either. He explained the situation as they stood next to the parked airship. On the king’s request for Rian assistance, Amo Obib bluntly replied, “We Rians cannot, in conscience, participate or provide aide for warfare. We can only offer you protection by placing a barrier around Atlantis.”

  King Arth was not surprised to Amo Obib naivetés on military matters. “They will ravage the kingdom outside barrier until I come out.”

  “How about your army?”

  “Not only are we outnumbered, my men are unfit for battle and materially unprepared. The situation is critical.”

  The amo gave the situation a thought then asked Goopersh, “Goopersh, how much time do we have to maintain a barrier around the whole of Metropolitan Atlantis?” he asked.

  Goopersh replied in its metallic voice, “Ninety-seven days.”

  Amo Obib said to the king, “Do as much as you can to save Atlantis within ninety-seven days from falling into the enemy’s hands.”

  King Arth was taken aback. “Are you aware of what that will mean?” he asked.

  “It will be the end of the Rian civilization. Ending my civilization is not my intention. It is a hard decision to make but my civilization is doomed without you. I have seen you change for the better for your people. You are a good king. The people in this region will have a better life if you remain their king.”

  “Amo Obib, my intention is to save both your civilization and mine; prevent a war even at the cost of my life. If you are amenable, can you allow Femed to speak in my behalf to the leaders of the Migrants my need for their help as I attend to my army?”

  “I must deny your request. I or any Rian cannot, in conscience, ask people to participate in war or on anything that might lead them to harm.”

  “I give you my word, the Migrants will not participate in any war.”

  Baffled, he asked, “Why will you need the Migrant’s support then?”

  “There are so many variables and is pressed for time to explain. There will be no war and no Migrant will be ha
rmed. You have my word,” the king stressed.

  Amo Obib looked into the king’s eyes for a moment then decided, “On your word, I will tell Femed to speak in your behalf. However, I have to tell her to emphasize that the Migrants are not required but free to make the choice.”

  “That is all I ask. I have to go. Thank you so much for everything. Naska is Imar,” the king said then hugged the amo. With moist eyes, he immediately turned and boarded the airship.

  The amo noticed the manner of how the king expressed himself before he left. He strongly felt the king’s farewell was his last.

  The Migrants

  Femed had an emergency meeting with the leaders of the Migrant community. She explained King Arth’s predicament and the Migrant’s freedom to aid the king or not. She forcefully stressed that in the event they decide to aid the king, no individual must be forced to abide by it and risk their life. Soon after the meeting, word rapidly spread throughout the Migrant community.

  King Arth’s Plan

  Back at the palace, King Arth entered the war room and headed directly to the war table where his generals were. He leaned on the table with both hands and studied the layout Mismar prepared. He stared at his entire army icons lumped together southwest of the metropolis without saying a word.

  On the king’s silence, Mismar went straight to the point, “Without Rian intervention, we have no way of winning.”

  “I was hoping you’d come up with something different,” the king said then instructed, “Odi, Suba, take five thousand men each. You are to hold back King Adazil’s army for as long as you can then retreat to Atlantis. Mismar, take four thousand and fortify Atlantis.”

  “That is the entire army. And you?” Mismar asked with concern.

  “I'll take a small contingent and intercept King Silrab's army at Matina Crossing. I will make a deal with him. He knows he cannot trust Adazil. It will only be a matter of time when Adazil turns his attention on his kingdom. In exchange for marching together against King Adazil and help the Rians after, I will cede my throne to him. Your life will be much better under Silrab than with Adazil.”

  Odi said, “That maybe a long shot if you consider the long-standing animosity between your family and his. All your invitations to King Silrab to come to Atlantis or your going to visit him were denied. I don’t think that is a wise choice. He hates you.”

  King Arth turned to Odi and replied, “That may be my only shot. Should you see black smoke coming from my location, see Amo Obib and take his offer to protect Atlantis by placing a barrier around the metropolis. You have ninety-seven days to plan and save Atlantis.”

  Mismar reacted, “That will mean the Rians’ death.”

  The king answered, “Amo Obib is aware of that. You have ninety-seven days,” he repeated.

  Mismar said, “In that case, we take the entire army and retreat south and meet up with our 3,000 men at Toril then rally the people outside of Metropolitan Atlantis to join our forces. Let the Rians put up the barrier to prevent the enemy from using Rian resources for no more than three months. We destroy all the food sources outside the metropolis and starve them first before we engage both Adazil and Silrab’s army. That is a winning proposition. You will end up being the King of the entire region.”

  “Mismar is right and you don’t have to make a deal with Silrab!” Suba added.

  King Arth asked the three, “Do you know what that will mean to the Rians if I did nothing?”

  Mismar replied coldly, “It will mean the Rians’ death but it is now a question of survival---their lives or ours.”

  “I agree,” Odi followed.

  Suba said, “I also agree. Let . . .”

  “Say no more,” King Arth stopped Suba. He knew Mismar’s plan will work but he also knew it meant a victory at Rian’s expense. “Implement that strategy should I fail.”

  Mismar stressed, “Why gamble your life. We have a winning plan.”

  King Arth replied, “I don’t think I can live with my conscience knowing the Rians will die for us without my trying to save everyone . . . us and them. The Rians have done so much for us. They deserve a chance to life as we do. I must try to save everyone and I have but one option---make a deal with King Silrab,” he paused then continued, “You are all good soldiers and friends. We have fought many battles together. As your king, I want you to follow my wish,” he calmly said as he looked at each of them.

  They hugged, as they always do before battle.

  THE GREATEST BATTLE

 

  It was a cloudy day but not the one that would bring rain. King Arth's armies marched out of Atlantis in three directions shaded by the clouds that made the arduous march pleasant but not their trepidations over what will happen to them in the battle to come. King Arth, with a hundred soldiers, headed to intercept King Silrab’s army. General Odi and Suba went separate ways to flank King Adazil’s army on both sides at Basalan. An hour later, General Odi changed course to intercept King Arth. He, in conscience, could not see his king go without his protection should King Sirab not agree on their king’s proposal. He was not surprised to see General Suba with his soldiers waiting at a junction. Later, they united at the metropolis with General Mismar who grumbled why it took the two a long time to turn back.

  “Do you know our act constitutes mutiny,” Mismar said.

  “There’s no law against disobeying an unreasonable command,” Odi remarked.

  Suba interjected, “The better way of looking at our situation is to figure out what Arth will do when he sees us.”

  “He’ll cut our heads for sure,” Mismar seriously said then boisterously laughed.

  The other two heartily laughed with him.

  The generals rode ahead of their combined armies and caught up with King Arth later that same day. Mismar said to his king as they were on horseback, “Your Highness, we have a mutiny. We cannot stop the soldiers from going with you.”

  “Fools!” the king disappointedly said aloud, “All of you have a better chance with the Rians. Tell your men to go back while there is time.”

  “I don't think you can stop them. I tried. We all tried. The soldiers said that this is the best time to be with their king. It just so happened, we agree. I say we fight our way thru King Silrab’s army if he disagrees with you; head south; and regroup while the Rians protect Atlantis. We will . . .”

  A soldier on horseback, alerted, “Your Highness, a lone rider is heading this way.”

  The king turned and noticed it was a Migrant on horseback who stopped hard almost at their midst.

  The Migrant, still on his horse, excitedly requested, “Your highness, stand on a wagon and look towards the west.”

  The king was surprised at the strange request from a Migrant who held a spading fork; a home-made wooden club tied to his saddle; and kitchen knife on his waist belt.

  The king, excited, climbed a supply cart and looked west with his hands shading his squinted eyes from the blazed of the setting sun. Through the glare, he saw something at the horizon. He struggled to make sense of the unusual dark feature at the distant hugging the horizon. As he strained to make sense of what he saw, he realized the dark feature at the distance were the Migrants. They filled the width of the horizon.

  The Migrant proudly announced, “Over two million . . . they all came for you, Your Highness.”

  The king rode his horse and headed to meet the Migrants. As he got closer, he noticed they were waving their wooden clubs, hayforks, sharpened poles held over their head as they chanted, “Long live our king.”

  In the midst of the cheering mass, the king dismounted and walked among them. Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he hugged as many as he could. Soon two men raised him in the air on their shoulders as the people chanted ever louder, “Long live our king.” As they did, the king looked at the multitude and remembered what Amo Obib said nearly five years ago, ‘Replace fear with love and compassion and they will come to raise and proclaim you their king.’

&nbs
p; It was the crowning moment of the king's life. Never was he so moved by the support he got for the little things he did for the Migrants. He said to himself, 'Truly, no greater power in the world can rise above what love and compassion to your brothers and sisters can do.'

  That evening, King Arth, his Generals, and five representatives from the Migrant army, headed by Chanlai, planned their war strategy.

  The Plan Executed

  Late in the morning, the third day, King Adazil's army had reached the highest ridge at the Bansalan Pass that overlooked the vast valley within King Arth’s domain. On high grounds and three miles away, the king saw King Arth's army in its entirety spread over the sprawling grassland below. With disbelief, he could discern rows of columns of soldiers, he estimated to be a thousand each and half-a-mile wide, in a battle formation. Behind the columns were blocks of a thousand men. There were so many, he did not bother to estimate. The sight was far from the 14,000 soldiers he expected. He threw away his dreams of grandeur and ordered his army to turn back, leaving King Silrab to do battle with King Arth's army by himself.

  King Arth, on seeing King Adazil's army retreat, smiled. He redeployed his army and the Migrants to face King Silrab's approaching army that was nearing the mountain's bend.

  King Silrab, being on low ground, could not see what King Adazil saw at the ridge of Basalan Pass. When his army made the turn towards a low-lying valley, he saw, at the distance, to his great surprise, King Adazil's army marching back, retreating. Before him, was King Arth's army of 14,000 in battle formation. He was not, in any way, concerned. He knew King Arth had neglected his army’s fitness and was not prepared to go into battle against his 19,000 well-armed and trained army. With confidence, he ordered his army to go in battle formation and face head-on King Arth’s army. He laughed at the thought of how dumb King Arth to have the audacity to even prepare his army for battle, and how he overrated him through all the years. This will be an easy victory, he thought on seeing his army in battle formation, waiting for his command to attack. His perception instantly changed on seeing a waving flag signal from General Odi. On that signal, the Migrants came out running from behind the hills and filled the vast valley before him into a sea of warriors. Spread out, they encircled King Silrab’s army on three sides, over two million strong! He was not prepared for what he saw and, now, realized why King Adazil turned back and he, had fallen into a trap.

  King Arth, in full battle gear, with his three generals, rode halfway between his army and that of King Silrab’s. The armies were but a flung arrow’s distance apart. The king signaled his generals to wave their banners.

  On the sight of the generals waving banners, the Migrants and the king’s soldiers waved whatever they held over their heads as they repeatedly hailed in unison, “Long live King Arth!” The wide valley floor reverberated to the sound of his hailing army shouting at the top of their voice. Rocks fell off the surrounding ridges from the horrendous sound they made. The valley fronting King Silrab glittered from the objects King Arth’s army held and waved over their head. The frontline soldiers visibly waved their shields and spears; the second line, their shields and swords; and the third line, bows and arrows. The Migrants behind were some distant from King Silrab's men to discern that polished metal - frying pans, cups, plates, spoons, and anything that shined tied to a stick or pole were being waved. Together the entire valley dazzled brightly under the sun that the opposing army shielded their eyes from the glare.

  Moments later, the king raised his hand. The generals threw their flags on the ground and drew their sword. There was an unnatural sound heard in the air as King Arth's army prepare themselves for battle, then, an eerie silence followed.

  King Arth shouted at the top of his voice: “I come before you in peace,” he paused as he waited for his words’ echo to subside. “Drop your armaments and move back,” he paused again. “You have my word as king . . . no harm or retribution will befall you . . . Fight . . . and it will be your last. . . On that . . . I also give my word.”

  To King Arth’s warning, sounds of armaments dropped by King Silrab’s soldiers reverberated. Sounds that crescendo to an eerie cacophony of clangs, clings, thuds, and sounds of thousands of footsteps from men moving back and treading on weapons of war that littered the ground. King Silrab could merely watch his men and dreams desert him. It was far from his illusions of conquest a moment ago. Much farther from what he thought might be. Soon, he was alone in an open space; saddled on his horse; resigned to his fate.

  “King Silrab,” King Arth called out, “we will have to settle the bad blood between your family and mine today.” He dismounted his horse; drew his sword; and walked towards King Silrab. His generals dismounted and walked ten feet behind with swords drawn by their side.

  King Silrab dismounted then drew his sword disquietly. He knew he was no match to King Arth’s skill in a duel. Only his dignity and pride got him to stand his ground and face King Arth.

  When they came to within ten feet, King Arth stopped and said to his generals, “Should I die, I want you to set King Silrab free and let him rule his kingdom. Do you understand and swear?”

  The generals, taken aback by the king’s command, remained silent. It was only when the king shouted ‘swear’ angrily that they swore.

  King Silrab reacted, “How noble of you to offer me my life and kingdom in exchange for your life. In return I pledge this, should I win, I will never raise an arm against your kingdom and all family debts are paid.” He knew a surprise attack was his only chance of winning and suddenly swung his sword at King Arth’s head.

  King Arth effortlessly parried the first strike. He could have easily killed King Silrab, there and then, had he struck back but did not. He continued to be on the defensive as King Silrab wildly swung and thrashed his sword at him.

  Odi noticed the lost opportunities to strike the fatal blow at King Silrab, commented, “Why doesn’t he kill him?”

  Mismar, on hearing Odi’s question, replied, “I don’t think he wants him dead.”

  King Arth continued merely to parry King Silrab’s attack until the chance came and made a move that got King Silrab’s sword to fall on the ground.

  King Silrab froze with King Arth's sword at his throat. He shut his eyelids tight in anticipation for his gruesome death. “Please make it swift,” he requested.

  In a normal voice, King Arth said, “Open your eyes, King Silrab.”

  King Silrab did and to his amazement saw King Arth held out his sword with its handle towards him. He took the sword and held it by his side.

  King Arth said in low voice, “I seek peace. Kill me now if you think it will heal the bad blood between your family and mine, and you will still have your kingdom, as I have sworn.” He then extended both arms and added, “Else, take my arms as token of our desires to have our kingdoms live in peace.”

  King Silrab reflected. There were many reasons to swing the mortal blow and settle old family debts. King Arth had put two of his brothers and many of his kin to death. He raised the sword poised to strike.

  King Arth did not waver from his stance---his arms still extended. His eyes on his.

  Still poised to strike, King Silrab said, “Even if I personally killed your son?”

  “Even so,” the king choked on his word. “Neither you nor I can do anything to change that now,” he sadly said and briefly looked away, his hands partly lowered. He faced him and raised his arms again. With firmer voice, he said, “It is in the past. There are new and brighter days before us and our people. My offer stands.”

  King Silrab hesitated, smiled then forcefully flung the sword away. They held each other's arms then hugged each other. To this, both armies cheered aloud, “Long live, King Arth!”

  Kill Him for Me and My Mother

  After King Arth and Silrab parted, King Arth sadly said, “Can I have my son's body?”

  “He is alive. But . . .”

  “I understand.”

  “No retributions?”


  “You have my word,” King Arth replied.

  King Silrab turned and shouted, “Set Prince Otil free.”

  Prince Otil emerged amidst King Silrab's soldiers. In loincloth, his skin badly torn from lashings; dirt and blood caked around his wounds that were all over his entire body; fury pasted on his face. He picked a sword on the ground and ran towards King Silrab.

  King Arth said to his generals, “Protect King Silrab . . . even if you have to kill my son,” then walked to meet his son.

  The generals moved in front of King Silrab with swords drawn to protect the King Silrab.

  The King Arth, with arms extended sideways, blocked his son’s path towards King Silrab as he repeatedly pleaded, “It’s all over, it’s all over.”

  The prince tried thrice to go around his father’s extended arms. Unable to succeed, he stood in front of his father and spoke in heightened determination and in anger, “I must kill him,” he shouted.

  King Arth slowly lowered his arms and said, “You must not . . . It will not solve anything.”

  “Then I will kill you,” Prince Otil furiously shouted staring vilely at his father. His eyes glared at him in fury.

  “You have to,” the king said as he stood and looked at his son in the eyes.

  “You put more value to his life than my honor? You are willing to die and protect a pig whose family killed your father and wife . . . my mother! What kind of king . . . or man are you?” Prince Otil screamed with disgust; saliva splattered out of his mouth as he spoke; eyes stared furiously at his father.

  King Arth stayed silent. He was calm and showed no fear before his son still holding the sword, his fate at his son’s whims.

  The prince continued, “If you love me, my mother, and your father, kill him for us!” he shouted in wrath.

  The king implored, “It is because I love all that I must not. Please understand. It is for everyone's best.”

  “I will kill you myself,” Prince Otil said as he raised his sword and started slashing the wind around his father unable to get himself to strike the king.

  The king stood still as the sword swung an inch away. The generals could do nothing but watch in alarm.

  Finally, Prince Otil threw the sword, dropped on the ground on his knees, and, in frustration, cried.

  King Arth knelt by his side. He wanted to hug him but his torn flesh was all over his body. He said, “My son, forget the past and look forward to a new and better tomorrow. Forgive and forget as I have done. Please do it for me. I love you.”

  His son replied in despair as he cried, “Twice you dishonored me. How can you do that and say you love me?”

  The king answered, “I pray in time you will understand. Just remember I do love you with all my heart,” then helped him stand, holding carefully the prince’s hand. “We will get the Rian doctor to bring you back to health. They will mend your wound so no scars will show. You will see . . . everything will be better than before.”

  On hearing a humming sound, the king looked up and saw an airship overhead.

  The king and his son were flown back to Atlantis.

  Loss of a kingdom

  A month after, a small group of protesters, vehemently against the abuses of King Adazil’s monarchy, marched through the main city street towards King Adazil’s fortified palace. Their call for solidarity against the maltreatments and oppressions of their king and his cohorts drew spontaneous support along the way that, in a relatively short time, it had become a huge crowd of angry people who strongly felt wrongly ruled. Informed of the marcher’s cause, the commander of the military garrison ahead ordered his soldiers to join, protect, and head the assembly. Without hesitation, the soldiers at the garrison were on the street, in full battle gear, eager to welcome the protesters and march ahead of them. Word rapidly spread that most of the city’s population joined them. When they got to King Adazil’s fortified palace, all its gates were wide open and the palace soldiers were at its perimeter walls waving delightedly to welcome the protester’s arrival. King Adazil and those loyal to him barricaded themselves within the palace’s inner walls. They surrendered peacefully the following day after King Adazil flung himself off the palace tower.

  Two weeks after, representative to once King Adazil kingdom came to see King Arth. They brought King Adazil’s decapitated heads of King Adazil and his generals separately wrapped in linen. With it were over a hundred sacks full heads of people associated with the king's atrocities and oppressions. They handed King Arth a letter of declaration with hundreds of signatures from representatives of different sectors in their community. It declared King Arth their king.

  King Arth looked at the heap of decapitated heads on the floor with dismay. He wanted to admonish but instead warned that no blood be spilled henceforth. He instructed them to elect a Governor and a governing body to rule an autonomous province under his kingship and forbade the formation of an army. Thereafter, the king banned Prince Otil from forming an army. He gave lifetime pension to old soldiers and the young retrained as policemen that carried no weapon except for the few that guarded his palace and the armory.

  With no prodding from King Arth, King Silrab followed King Arth's examples and the two kingdoms flourished in peace in the years that followed. Prince Otil recovered completely from his injuries. With the Rian’s medical expertise, he showed no scars from the lashings he received from the hands of King Silrab's men. For a while, he isolated himself in Tugbok. Unarmed and monitored, he was of no threat to anyone. Five months later, he visited Atlantis, on his own accord, to which the king was ecstatically happy and thereafter, visited Atlantis regularly.

  ECONOMIC CRISIS

  Giza’s landscape dramatically changed from the day Amo Obib negotiated with King Arth to what it had become twenty-three years later. With a population of over six million, the city had expanded. It had transformed the vast grassland into a beautiful and well-planned metropolis identical to the city’s model shown to the king decades ago. The pyramid ship, which once stood alone in the wide-open grassland, was now at the heart of Atlantian government buildings and adjacent to the largest park and grandstand in Atlantis. Surrounding, in turn, were the residential areas, then the commercial, followed by the industrial zones.

  High-rise residential complexes dotted the residential areas like island communities spaced by beautiful parks between each other. Each had gyms, small and large auditoriums, a shopping center, and, outside, swimming pools, playing courts, spacious children playgrounds, and an army of maintenance workers, deeply dedicated to their work.

  The Rians could have easily skipped this high level of comfort to the people of Atlantis and cut the project completion time by a fifth, but did not. They balanced their need to the time they had to make Atlantis a beautiful place to work and live in. The people knew and appreciated what the Rian’s had done and reciprocated by being at their very best.

  With Atlantis' four huge cold fusion electric generators and the Rians’ obsession to distribute electric power for its convenience to the populace, no house was without electricity. Electric transmission wires snaked out of Atlantis physically linking it to every dwelling in King Arth and King Silrab’s kingdoms, and the Autonomous Region, once ruled by King Adazil, and further on. Arth’s kingdom by this time had stretched westward to the fringe of the Sahara Desert, three-hundred miles to the west.

  Using Atlantis as a model, and with King Arth’s assistance and support, King Silrab’s kingdom and the Autonomous Region were as modern and progressive as Atlantis. Together, they agreed to name the entire region, both east and west of Nile River, Atlantis and the inhabitants proudly declared themselves as one, Atlantians. Amo Obib’s prayers, Nengut’s dream, the Rian’s hope, became a reality.

  There were no cars, buses, or aerial crafts for public transportation within or outside Atlantis. Instead, Atlantis had a well-designed, electrically operated public commuting and rail transport systems. The transport system crisscrossed the whole of Atlantis
and brought anyone within walking distance to any place within the metropolis. The system was gradually expanded that by the fifteenth year, all the major towns and cities in all kingdoms in the region had identical systems in place. This transportation system was so elaborate that no known inhabited area in the region was more than three miles away from the railway and all led back to Metropolitan Atlantis.

  The police force, still manned exclusively by Egyptians, performed their duties unarmed and never had a problem. The citizens were law abiding and their authority was never questioned nor did the police force abused it. If there was a policy the Egyptian police force strictly enforced, it was the ban on any form of armaments, which now included the Egyptians themselves. Though the Egyptians protested the random search, the Migrants thought nothing of it. It was part of their staying agreement with the Rians. No right-minded Migrant would dare violate any of the settlement laws as it meant deportation back to his or her native homeland. No one wanted to go back.

  In spite of technological advancement, swords, bows and arrows, and spears, were still the army's main weapons. Since the king disarmed the military decades ago, the weapons stayed in a guarded armory.

  At this time, the work on the Atomic Converter had reached its peak. The underground doughnut-shaped structure of the huge atomic converter machine neared its completion and so were its support facilities. Most of the projects were within the atomic converter's inner structure---laying out miles upon miles of super-conductive wires and installed super-magnet casings. Simultaneously, they assembled and tested the machine’s sophisticated electronics.

  The Rians operated and absorbed a substantial portion of the industrial outputs that propelled the region’s economy. Unless the region absorbed the displaced workers from the project’s scheduled shutdowns, economic chaos would ensue. To help alleviate the problem, the Rians handed more consumer technologies to the private sector and sold the excess capacities of their manufacturing plants. Since the private sectors were slow to react and layoff schedules were uncomfortably near, Femed brought her concern to the king's Ministry of Commerce who also was the Chairperson of Economic Development Board. The Minister assured her the government had addressed the issues and there was nothing to worry about.

  Months later, the first groups of laid-off workers were easily absorbed by private sector. However, succeeding scheduled layoffs would result to progressive unemployment problems. With work on the Atomic Converted winding down to specialized fields, larger layoffs loomed ahead. The government was not ready. To this, the Minister of Commerce and his staff had an emergency meeting with King Arth.

 

  At the palace conference room the minister and his staff briefed the king on the unemployment problem. King Arth lost his temper and shouted, “I thought this problem was resolved a long time ago!”

  Nervous, the overweight Minister replied, “Your Highness, the private sector is hardly responding to the incentives given to create new industries to absorb the layoffs. They seem not to see the opportunities. I do not understand. As far as government projects are concerned, we are undertaking so many we do not need. Adding another might arouse Rian suspicion.”

  “I don't want the Rians to suspect anything!” the king fumed in anger. “We have a little over a year to keep this problem from them. They have enough problems on their own and I don’t want them bothered by ours. Does everyone understand?”

  The words ‘Yes Your Highness’ resounded. They have not seen their king's temper flare since the Rians came. The ones they remembered almost three decades ago, heads literally rolled on the ground.

  “How many people are we talking about?” the king thundered.

  The Minister answered meekly, “We estimate around two-hundred-thousand in the next ten months.”

  “Two-hundred-thousand!” the king echoed and fumed again. “You better give me a solution or I will lift the ban on public executions to all of you!”

  “Your Highness,” the Minister said in haste, “I propose we use the laid-off workers to build monuments until such time when we have a solution to the problem.”

  The Minister was lucky. The king wanted to have monuments built in his honor and that of the Rians. “Good idea. You can relax. I have no intention of beheading anyone . . . at least not now,” he added seriously, though he meant merely to frighten.

  “Oh, thank you, Your Highness,” the Minister reacted, wiping the perspiration from his face with his handkerchief.

  “That is really a good idea. With two-hundred thousand workforces working, it must be big. But what kind?” he asked as he wondered aloud.

  “A smaller version of the pyramid ship made with quarried stones. It will last forever.” he said and nervously waited for the king's reaction, perspiring as he held his breath.

  “I like that . . . last forever,” the king mused at last to the Minister's relief. The king visualized the monument in his mind as he took full advantage of the cushioned chair’s backrest and fiddled with his beard then said, “The Rians will not suspect. We will build it in Rian’s honor and suggest Nengut be entombed at its heart as a memorial. But don't expect me to finance this forever or you will have to pay for it from your salaries,” the king said jokingly.

  The Minister half-heartedly laughed as he again wiped the perspiration off his forehead and neck this time. “That will solve our problem.”

  “Meanwhile,” the king said, “I want you to work on the outcropping rock at the plain. I want that sculptured to a reclining Lion. Lest the Rians hear of it, I do not want the laid off workers complaining about the kind of work they end up. The Rians told me that in their planet, people do not fuss over the type of work they do. So, make sure the ‘Privileged’ do not fuss either,” the king said referring to the white-collared Egyptian workers employed by the Rians and scheduled to be laid-off. “Mr. Minister,” he stressed, “I do not want the Rians to hear, more so, be bothered by our problems. Should they ask, we have no problem. Does everyone understand?” He said out loud.

  “Yes, Your Highness,” the Minister replied breathing normally this time.

  “Dodot, Dingky,” the king called out.

  Dodot and Dingky rushed to their king and together said, “Your Highness.”

  “Dodot, since you screen and schedule the people that see the Rians. Make sure the Rians will not hear about any of our problems regardless of kind.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Dingky,” the king continued, “make sure the press releases paint a rosy picture always.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Dingky, the king’s Press Secretary, replied.

  “Gentlemen, as I have said, we have a little over a year to solve this problem. If worse comes, we will resolve it after the Rians leave but not before. They have done so much for us. That is the least we can do,” the king concluded and ended the meeting.

  The Giza Monuments

  Two days later, the king proudly presented the model of his plan to Amo Obib. The model was expertly made and brought on a special cart. In scale, it showed how it would be laid-out a mile away from the king’s Lion Monument (currently the Sphinx at Giza). Three pyramid monuments would be lined up as the three stars on the belt of Orion, the Constellation in the night sky. It signified the direction in the cosmos to where the Rians’ home planet was located. The sizes of the pyramids varied to the brightness of each of the three stars on Orion’s Belt. The largest of the pyramid was a fourth the size the Rian’s spaceship. A chamber deep within was to serve as King Arth’s tomb. The second largest was where Nengut would be laid to rest and the smallest, Prince Otil’s tomb. Buildings around the pyramids would house museums, cultural centers, and theaters. The space in between would be made into public parks with man-made lakes and wooded areas to accent the place.

  Amo Obib liked the presentation and said, “We will help you build it. We have excess capacity. We can use four of the airships for this purpose and will share the cost.”

  “I refuse
your offer,” the king replied. He had a good idea of how fast they could build the monuments with full use of the airships. Had he known, he would have made the model gigantic. “It will be made purely by the sweat of humans to show how grateful we are.”

  “We are just as grateful. A joint venture to express our gratitude to each other then, wouldn’t that be fair?”

  The king hid his concern and replied, “Okay. Since it’s joint, I will sit with my designers and come up with a grander plan but similar in format.”

  “I will leave the design and details to you,” Amo Obib replied.

  The Pyramid Monuments

  Early morning the following day, the king with his architects and construction engineers were at the palace’s conference room. Dozens of clean blackboards, chalks in bowls, large stack of paper supplies were on one side of the room and pens with its ink cartridges lay atop engineering drawing tables on another. Dozens of excited draftsmen waited at the adjoining room for instructions. The thought of being part of a coveted group to leave their mark on the planet that will last forever was enough to anticipate, with overwhelming eagerness, the work that lay ahead. They were full of enthusiasm.

  In loose white tunic and in slippers, the king was well prepared for the long tedious planning ahead. Seated at the end of a large rectangular conference table, he started the meeting decisively, “Gentlemen, I want something designed and built within fourteen months, with more or less than 200,000 workers and four airships at your disposal. I want it such that I can justify the workforce to the Rians.” Thereafter, he actively participated in the planning.

  As the day dragged on, numerous models were thrown; the blackboards cleaned many times; and used drawing papers had littered the floor. As they planned, always, the use of the four airships was a problem---they could easily build a dozen larger monuments using them.

  Midafternoon that same day and after numerous models considered, the king had a feasible proposal. It was not just a large construction project but the end results would be an engineering marvel to awe people for generation to come. The largest of the three pyramid monuments proposed would equal the size of the Rians’ spaceship and the two others proportionate to it as originally conceptualized. Added were large monumental museums and cultural centers to surround it. The three huge pyramids will be built using purely quarried stones as it will last forever, the rest of the projects were to be made primarily of structural steel wrapped in cement. Humans would do the quarrying, etching, and polishing of the stones slabs as their share in the joint venture and will use the airships only for transport. They chose the large park adjacent to the parked pyramid spaceship as the construction site. The project would absorb all the laid-off workers and have full control over its duration. If they fell short on their schedule, they would use more the airships.

  King Arth presented his plan to Amo Obib the day after. Though Amo Obib thought it grandiose, he agreed with one additional feature---they would leave a directional beacon at the heart of the largest monument.

 

  Next day, surveyors were at the site staking construction markers at the park.

  POWER STRUGGLE

  A year in advance, the Rians announced the atomic converter's inauguration day but withheld their departure date. They issued an open invitation to weeklong celebration hosted exclusively by the Rians that included free food and accommodations for the festivity’s duration to anyone who would come to Atlantis. The invitation extended to the workers and their family in South and Central Americas as they intended to transport them over.

  Six months later, the Migrants’ Chamber of Commerce, an association of Migrants businessmen, had a secret emergency meeting. San Ki, President of the Chamber, presided. After issues that concerned the Migrant’s welfare were discussed, he addressed the crowd, “It is imperative we start planning our future. I see no future for us, Migrants, in this kingdom once the Rians leave or if King Arth dies prematurely . . . whichever comes first. Threats to take advantage of government incentive in new businesses aimed at absorbing laid-off workers from the Rian projects are signs of impending problems. We cannot present our concerns to the Rians. They will not be here to protect us. Neither can we go to King Arth who is so blinded by his righteous cause to see what is going on around him. Nor are we safe if Prince Otil took over his father's throne. The prince, through reliable sources, said that Migrants would make good slaves.

  “We have to take matters into our own hands before it becomes late. If we are to become someone's subjects, we would prefer him or her to come from the Migrant community. At least we control our destiny. Does everyone agree?”

  The hall resounded with an overwhelming ‘Yes’.

  “Changlai, a general in an army in the old land, will present his plan for your approval,” Ki concluded, and gave the podium to Changlai.

  Changlai, very Chinese looking with a pony tailed hair, stood at the podium and went straight to the point, “Whoever controls Rian technology controls the world. It is vitally important we control it. Our success lies in two things---timing and complete surprise.

  “Our informant said that Prince Otil will not allow the Rians to leave and will take control right after the ship is fueled. We will do it just before when they least expect it. We will need five-hundred well-armed men and another two-thousand . . .”

  As Changlai explained his plan, a Migrant standing at the rear asked another, “How come Changlai knows about this and not the king?”

  “Because the king wishes to be blind and deaf. Brave as he is, he is scared to hear the truth about his son,” responded the other.

  “Do you know two of his three closest friends are dead?”

  “Who?”

  “Generals Suba and Odi. Only Mismar is alive. General Odi mysteriously disappeared in a hunting trip while General Suba had a questionable freak accident. I even heard Prince Otil had something to do with the derailment of the train that killed King Silrab and his family. The new king is a good friend of Prince Otil. It is all too much of a coincidence for the king not to have noticed and acted on.”

  “But why?”

  “Blinded by love for his son and fulfillment of a vow he made to his dying wife they say.”

  “Doesn't anyone tell him this?”

  “No one will dare. The king will blindly protect the prince. Besides, the prince has many spies planted everywhere.”

  “King Arth is a good king. I like him.”

  “I like him but that will not save us.”

  “He still has a lot of followers.”

  “The wrong ones like us,” he mocked. “He needs the army.”

  A Migrant seated in front turned and addressed them, “Shut up, you two.”

  Changlai concluded to a hushed crowd, “It is important that the Rians do not suspect. We continue what we are doing until the ship is ready for refueling then we strike!”