The Chronicles of Amon book 1 LINK

  Chapter 7.

 

  Some unknown amount of time ago a gigantic boulder had been jarred from it’s place among the others higher up the side of the hill. The ground’s shifting had dislodged it from it’s already precarious position, and it had rolled, slow-motion, a few hundred feet down the gentle embankment. It had come to rest squarely in the middle of what was, at the time, a reasonable size river. Over the years, because it was so huge, nothing the river could throw at it could make it budge. Instead, everything that was thrown at it either glanced off and continued following the now-rerouted course; or it became entangled in the debris accumulating at the great stone’s base.

  As the years went by, the great ice sheets continued their retreat to the north, leaving behind more and more arid landscape. The run off, at one time a mighty river, had flowed from their bases. But now, with more and more land being exposed, the run-off was being sucked down, through the porous firmament, into vast underground lakes.

  What was left after so many uncounted years was now only a stream a dozen or so feet wide. The huge boulder, covered on its north side by a tangled mass of intertwined tree trunks, rocks, soil and shrubbery, now looked more like a mountain than a stone. A man could make it to the top, but it would be an awfully difficult climb. Never the less, a person was already up there, surveying the surroundings before the fading light was gone. Soon he too would be snuggled into his nest at the base below, awaiting the next dawn. His replacement was already on the way up. He could hear the clatter as limbs slapped against each other, making way for the clumsy climber.

  Broc and his mate had already disappeared into their shelter. He had been especially exuberant about finishing his shelter early. He wanted to be up early tomorrow so he could continue exploring the new territory. That was what he had said as he excused himself from the now-traditional evening gathering around the fire.

  Amon sat with his feet facing the fire, his back against a stone he had pushed back, away from the flame. The heat the stone had absorbed penetrated the thick layers of hides that covered his back, taking the evening chill away. Beyond, the fire cast eerie shadows against the huge granite overhang under which they had made camp. To his left, a few slices still hung crackling on their spits. To his right, Mahrom snuggled close, a deer hide pulled around her shoulders. No one else was left around the fire. Everyone but them had turned in for the night well before dark, as was usually the case. Only the sentries would remain awake all night, sleeping in shifts, and patrolling the outer perimeter of the camp.

  Amon pulled two pieces off the nearest stick and handed one to his mate.

  “Mahrom, my cherished one. Tonight I must go to my father’s nest. There are things we must discuss that cannot wait.” His heart swelled as he looked into her eyes. From the moment he had first seen her so long ago, she had filled his heart.

  “How long will you be gone?” she asked as she took the meat from his hand.

  “Just long enough to see he is comfortable. Maybe we’ll talk for a while.”

  “I see he is moving more slowly today. Is he not well?” That was what Amon liked about this woman. She seemed to read his mind as well as she read his father’s signing.

  “He does move slower, doesn’t he?” Amon pulled her close to him. The heat from the fire was making the thick hide of his foot coverings steam. He pulled his legs up. His feet felt better, but now he could feel heat building on his shins. It was now only pleasantly uncomfortable.

  She placed her cool hand on his knee, sending a chill through his loins. “He grows old, just like my parents. I wonder, will they last much longer? A few have already gone. The thought pains me.”

  Amon continued chewing, pondering what she was saying, and how it related to the thing which he must contend with this night.

  “It pains me too.” He swallowed the last bite, then took a long swig from the bladder before he continued.

  “This among other things we must speak about this night. The old ones move as best they can, and that will suffice. Even though, I fear that we may still happen upon some of the ‘others.’ I believe it would be wise for us to continue moving, following the path the stream has already taken.”

  “Must we move again so soon?” Mahrom reached across him for another strip of meat. Her breast brushed lightly against his knee. She lingered there for a long moment. She brushed aside a lock of hair so she could see his eyes. They were peering down to the place where she was touching him.

  “Sara told me she might be with child, but she’s not sure.”

  “Then we will remain here until she IS sure. From the size of the shelter she had Broc build, I don’t think that will be too long.”

  Mahrom giggled, sitting back to snuggle against his chest.

  “Maybe I should have you make us a smaller shelter too.”

  Amon ignored the inference, but gave her a squeeze and moved to stand.

  “No. The move we have made will be one of many, but we need not push ourselves too hard. As for my father, we both think it is important, however I don’t think it is his health which is of concern. At least, not at the moment.”

  Amon gave her hand a squeeze, and then rose from his position next to her.

  “I will return soon. Keep the covers warm for me.” With a knowing smile, she bade him farewell. He turned away from the light and walked the few short steps to his father’s nest.

  As he entered, at first he could see only the dark shadow of his father’s figure, silhouetted ever so faintly against the rear wall. As he became accustomed to the dark, he was able to detect a very faint blue glow emanating from the object his father held in his lap.

  “Are you sure there is no light going beyond this place?” the old simian signed with one hand. The other hand, or rather, the scared stump, caressed the ‘darkness.’

  “I am sure, father I saw nothing until I entered here.”

  “Good. What do you think of what Broc said? Are there others like this?” he motioned toward the object in his lap. The object itself appeared without color. However, somehow it gave off a blue glow that illuminated everything within it’s path with the same faint, fluorescent ‘un-darkness.’

  No sooner had he gotten seated than the object flickered once and went out. In place of the blue haze, the room was filled with another faint, un-natural glow. Pa moved slowly backward, making room for what he knew would be next. He made himself comfortable a few feet away from what he called the ‘darkness,’ and motioned for his son to join him closer, so they both could see the same thing from the same perspective.

  Amon began to get up, when directly above the dark object, the shape of a man began to form. At first it was almost skeletal, but almost instantly thereafter, the form of a face and upper torso began to take shape. In two steps Amon was at his father’s side. The shape, still semi-translucent, turned to watch the movement. As it began to solidify in front of them, a purple-colored robe and collar took shape over the naked shape of a man. His chest was free of hair, as was his back. The hair on his head was not long and not short. His facial hair was trimmed neatly. He began to speak. At first the voice was garbled and unclear. But as the form became more defined, so did the voice.

  “Gggrreeetings, my old friend.” The words formed in Amon’s head as the form solidified. “And you, young Amon.” The now fully formed face turned toward him.

  “At last! I have waited a long time for this moment.” Evander’s face appeared more real now. Before, Amon had noticed occasional flickers when the figure spoke or moved. This time the “apparition” remained steady, unwavering.

  “You are not the same as before,” Amon replied. “I see you differently. And how is it you speak to my father without signs?”

  “These are proper questions, and I will answer them momentarily. But first,” he turned to Amon. “I am a long-time friend of your father’s. I remember you when you were very young. You used to call me ‘darkness man.’ Can you remember that?”
>
  Amon tried to remember. Faintly, indistinctly, like a childhood memory, the shape materialized. It was a face with no hair. It was making noises. It’s teeth were showing.

  “I remember the face, but not the name you call yourself. And you are not the same this time.”

  Evander could see that Amon was straight forward, to the point, like his father.

  “It might be best if I tell you about myself and what you say is ‘different’ about me this time. I live in a place every far away from you. It is so far away that it takes a very long time for your voice to reach my ears.”

  “Like from across a valley, but more.” Amon nodded his understanding.

  “Exactly! Before, the thing you saw wasn’t the same. It said things to you and remembered what you said. Then it came and found me and told these things to me.”

  “But the ‘darkness’ has not gone anywhere. How can it go somewhere and be here at the same time? And you still have not answered my question.” Amon’s assertiveness certainly caught Evander’s notice.

  “It is so. And yet I cannot answer more clearly until we have learned more about each other. I speak truth to you. You may weigh it against anything you know. And you alone can decide whether or not what I say is right in your mind.

  “I will be patient. I will wait and I will learn. Tell me about this thing that you call yourself.” He motioned toward the image disdainfully. “You may speak and I may watch and hear you. But in an instant you can be gone.”

  “I am real, just like you. This thing you see before you is a tool which I use to talk with you. Just as your spear is a tool you use to assist you, so this tool assists me. It is called a hologram. It is an image of me. It helps you to see what I look like, even though you can’t see the real me. I’m too far away right now.”

  “Can you come here, now, to this place so that we may see each other face to face?”

  “It is difficult for me to do that right now. It will take some time for that to happen.”

  “How much time?”

  “Maybe only a day or two. But first, there are many things I need to tell you. These are things which are important for you to understand, if I am to meet you in person. They require that you be prepared to see and understand a world very different from your own, and that you also be prepared to keep this other world hidden from your own.”

  “Why is this such a secret? Is there something there that might be harmful?”

  “It is not so much that it might be harmful to you. Rather, it might prove to be harmful to your people if they ever found out about me, and what I represent.”

  “If you represent truth, as you say, then what you say I must trust to be true. You give me no reason to distrust you. But neither do you give me reason to want to learn more.”

  “This is reasonable. Let me then try to persuade you.”

  Amon leaned back, making himself comfortable.

  “I am listening.”

  Evander was amused, if not a bit amazed that this man would have such confidence in himself that he would accept with minimal explanation, the possibility that another reality existed. He showed no sign of distress. Rather, he seemed to be almost amused to be having this conversation.

  “Tell me, Amon; what intrigues you about this conversation? You seem to be almost amused.”

  “It isn’t amusement. It is more irony.” Amon leaned a bit forward, trying to glean some reaction from those artificial eyes that looked over at him.

  “In the first place, I ask myself, why is it that I do not look like my father? He is covered in hair. I am not. Neither are any of the others of my generation. All before us looked as does my father. This weighs on my mind.

  “Second, my father cannot speak. Neither could my mother, or any of the parents of my generation. And yet we easily speak with each other and with you. I wonder where this language came from.

  “But of most importance to me is why you have not revealed yourself to any of us from the beginning. We have done as has been necessary for our survival. Will your appearance change that?”

  “Only to the extent you wish it to do so.” Evander was quick with a response. He knew he was being baited. This was an unexpected, and pleasant challenge, coming from a first generation human. There was confidence exhibited here. And practically no fear. This man would be a challenge to get to know. Evander was anxious to begin the discussion.

  “I suppose the first thing to make clear is that there are other worlds which none of you have ever seen. They are very, very far from your world and it takes a very long time to get there. Let’s just say, for example, that your brother Broc wanted to visit one of those worlds. If he left tomorrow, you would still be as you are. But when he got back you would be very, very old, or maybe even dead.”

  “How do you know about Broc?” Amon asked, but quickly went on. “Then he too would be old, or dead.”

  “No. He would be not much older than he is now.” Evander saw a furrow cross Amon’s brow.

  “This brings me to another important subject, which is: How is what I’ve just described possible. Think about walking along side a fast-flowing river. The place you want to go is very far down the river and will take many days of walking to get to. You don’t want to take that much time to make the trip, so you jump in the river, which is flowing much faster than you can run. You reach your destination very quickly, but when it is time for you to return, you must walk back. You cannot use the river to speed up your return because it is flowing in the wrong direction.

  “In my world, I can travel from one place to another very quickly, like a river, using tools which my people have built. And I can go back and forth, not just in one direction, like a river. Sometimes I can go from one world to another very quickly, too. For travel between worlds, we use tools which we call ‘LINKS.’

  “Remember how you said I was different before? That was because the ‘LINK’ I was using was not pointed to any world close to yours, so the device you call the ‘darkness’ was left behind to let me know when you were ready. That device remembered my voice and what I looked like. When your father spoke to the device . . .”

  “Spoke to the device? That is not possible! He cannot speak!”

  “That is true. But when your father touches the device, it remembers his touch and speaks to him only in his mind. The image of me, or any other person, is not necessary for him to see then. He has but to think a thought, and the device will know it, and will answer.

  “When it found out that your father believed the time was near, the device signalled me, so that I could make myself ready to come and meet you.

  “So you say. But you have not come here to meet me face to face. Why do you use this ‘device’ instead?”

  “My friend, remember the story of the river and of time? “ Amon nodded.

  “If I come to see you face to face it will be as we both stand at the edge of the river. When we are at the side of the river at the same time, we can see each other, the real you and the real me. I could stay with you for a time, but not for very long. And when it came time for me to leave, it would be like me jumping in the river. I would go away very fast, but it would take you a very long time to see me again. Maybe you would be dead before I came again.”

  “So if you must teach me all the things you say, then either you must come here and stay with me, or I must go with you.”

  “There is truth in what you say. But there is more. If I come to your world to teach you, I will only have a short time to stay. Your world is not my world. I will want to visit my home from time to time, just as you will if you decide to come with me. In either case, if we choose, we can visit our home worlds any time we want. But because we use ‘LINKS’ like you use rivers, much time will pass between our visits. The things we remembered seeing in our worlds before we left will have changed while we were gone. But we will not have changed. All that will have changed for us is that we will have grown a little bit older, and hopefully gained in wisdom, while
the old world we revisit will be nothing like what we remember. We will be able to see how our worlds change, not just from season to season, but from lifetime to lifetime.”

  “What you describe has little interest for me. What benefit do I derive from watching my world evolve if I can only observe and not interact? How can I protect my mate when danger approaches if all I can do is watch? How can this help me, or my mate or anyone in my world?”

  Amon was defending his position, but in a way that didn’t deny what was being told him. Instead, he seemed to be continually probing for weaknesses in the arguments Evander was offering. His points were not offensive in any negative sense, but they did force Evander to thoroughly explain himself. This was turning into a conversation he would gladly have with any of his peers!

  “There have been times in your life when you have remembered something, and the memory of it has caused you to change what you might otherwise have done.”

  Amon’s mind raced back to the time they had chosen to walk along the bottom of the rock fall.

  Evander paused, seeing the change on Amon’s face. The young man looked down to the ground, and then quickly up, locked squarely on the ‘eyes’ of the hologram. Before he could say anything, Evander continued.

  “It is possible to interact with your world, but only during the time you are there. The consequences of the things you do while you are there may not be seen for a very long time. In order to see the results, you will have to leave, for what seems to you only a short time, and then return. When you return you will see how much things have changed. Maybe, if you look very carefully, you can see how what you did so long ago in that old world, has changed how things are now, in this new world.”

  “This causes me to fear. What if the decision I make now, in this ‘old world’ as you call it, causes great harm in the ‘new world’? Would it not be better if I had not interfered in the beginning?”

  In only a few short minutes Amon had narrowed the conversation down to the fundamental reason for Evander having initiated the discussion in the first place. He had hit upon what Evander preferred to call the ‘moral paradox,’ whether to interfere in ones culture, having had ‘extra-cultural’ information as to what the probable consequences might be, thus increasing the probability that the culture would be a ‘success,’ or to stand aside and let events unfold naturally.

  “Remember when your mother caught you before you fell out of the nest? If she had not done so, you might have been greatly harmed, or even killed. You were young and didn’t know better. But your mother knew and she protected you. What might have happened if she had just sat there and watched you fall. Your mother made a decision at that moment which changed forever the course your life would take.”

  “That is so, but why is it of importance to me now? I have no knowledge of what the future will bring. And I have no knowledge of what might have happened, had my mother let me fall. All I can do in this moment is prepare myself, using the knowledge that I possess.”

  “That is all any man can do. But I ask you, have you ever wondered what the future holds for not just you, but also your family, or your clan or all your people?”

  “Certainly I ponder these things. But it is pointless for me to spend time being concerned about things beyond my control. This question is also pointless, and beneath you, unless you are offering an alternative.”

  Evander could hardly contain his excitement. Here was a first generation human, capable of doing all that would be expected of someone like Evander himself. But what made this particular man stand out, was his ability to engage in abstract reasoning, displaying intellectual curiosity, without becoming bogged down in self-doubt or petty self-aggrandizement, as was common with some individuals who discovered ways to use the knowledge they gained from the transceiver (the ‘device,’ the ‘darkness’) for their own exclusive benefit. In such cases, the transceiver had simply been removed. The clan and the resulting culture would be left to it’s own devices.

  “Very well. Since you have chosen to be direct, so shall I. Your race is, in general a compassionate one, as is mine. Aside from many thousands of years of experience, and distances beyond measure, your race and mine are the same. What makes you and me different, what sets us apart from our individual races, is the fact that we prefer to view them from a distance. We set ourselves apart.”

  “If that is so, then why do YOU set yourself apart? There is much which is not being said here.”

  “You and I have had similar experiences, though our lives are completely different. I am much older than you. But here, in this circumstance, age makes little difference. It is the experiences and perspectives which we share that draws me to make you this offer.

  “I see how the loss of your first mate left you feeling empty inside. Your father tells me that you spend many hours alone, just staring off into the wilderness, not moving for minutes at a time. Even your new mate cannot fill that void which often times consumes you.

  “I too have had that experience. The emptiness I feel, even today, after so many centuries; the memory of her still brings me near unto tears. Even now I remember her scent. It was like pine sap, only sweet.”

  “Lilies in the summer.” Amon said without prompting. Evander stopped in mid-thought, listening.

  “Summer in the jungle is hot. The air does not move. It sticks to you like a cloak you cannot remove. Finding and staying close to a stream provides the only relief available. Near the streams grow tall, gangly plants, as high as a man’s waist. The flowers of this plant only bloom in the hottest part of the summer. Their petals are cupped, to catch rainwater. Insects come to drink from the small pools formed on the petals. Their feet get caught in the petal’s sticky spines, and they are slowly eaten by the plant. They become food, ensuring that the race of the flower continues.

  “There is a smell that comes from the flower as it consumes the dead insect. At first it is pleasant beyond imagining. But after only a few hours it becomes horribly unpleasant. If you can catch the liquid from the dissolving insect when the smell is most pleasant, the liquid will retain that smell. That was the smell of my first mate.

  “Those quiet times my father talks about probably take place near a stream. I always search for that smell whenever a stream is near.”

  Amon stood slowly and stretched. The image of Evander remained at the height it was while Amon was sitting.

  “My, my. You are tall, aren’t you! You must be close to six feet. I’m only a little over 5–10, myself.” Evander knew he had hit a tender spot. He didn’t want to cause ill feelings between them.

  “What are these things you talk about?” Amon snapped. “And what does my height have to do with anything?” He sat back down, placing a hand on his father’s knee.

  “This man stands only to my chest. Yet he possesses wisdom which I will never attain, so size has no place in this conversation. I long to gain in experience so that my wisdom may increase, as has his. But I see that his age catches up with him. He does not move the way he used to when he was young. Soon it will be his time to go the way of all life. Will the wisdom he attained be lost when he is gone?

  “All I can do to preserve that wisdom is to learn from him now. I will partake of his wisdom as best I am able. And when my time comes, I will pass his wisdom as well as that which I have gained on to my child.”

  Evander sensed he had found a way in. A way to appeal to Amon’s concern for the future of his people.

  “Tell me of your hopes for your family.”

  “My hopes for my family guide everything that I do. I hope they will have enough food. Therefore I find food for them. I hope for their safety. Therefore I protect them.”

  Evander needed to steer the conversation onto a higher plane. He wanted Amon to think about something other than the immediate future. He wanted to have Amon consider what the future might hold many generations from now.

  “What about the wisdom that those around you are learning at your hand? Are you co
ncerned that they gain from your experience and wisdom, and that they pass what they have learned on to their children as well? Wisdom can be attained in many ways. It can also be passed on in many ways. This is how wisdom can be preserved and shared by all.”

  Amon settled himself, trying to grasp what was being said.

  “Are you saying one man can learn the thoughts of another, even if one of them is gone?”

  “Yes. We can do this by making tools to help us remember. This transceiver you see here is a tool which can also be used to remember. It can remember the last place where your father stored it, and can take us back to the same place, if we tell it to do so. If we tell it, it will also show us images of the place so we can find it again for ourselves.”

  “But it can help us remember, so we can teach others.” Amon was concise and to the point, as he saw it.

  “Does it concern you that you are speaking in such a manner to what is described as a tool?”

  Amon looked first to the gray box on the ground and then up to the holographic face.

  “If this is a tool, as you say, then it can do things which I cannot. If you are a man, as you say, then by doing as you say, I may use this . . . transceiver to meet with you face to face.”

  “Yes, this is true. The device (it is easier to say than trans-cei-ver), will help us to meet, if that is what you choose. But you must first understand what will be required of you.

  “If you choose to meet with me, you must leave the place where you are now. You may return, but it will not be to the same time and place as it is there now. At the very best, you may be able to return within the lifetime of one individual whom you knew before you left. That person would be very old, while you will have aged only a little by comparison.”

  “How is this possible?”

  “Once again, it has to do with the ‘LINKS.’ We use them as portals, or fast-moving streams, to take us where we want to go. Time for us will pass as normal. But for those left on our home worlds, much, much time will have gone by.”

  Amon nodded. His brow furrowed.

  “I am at the beginning. This I can see. What I cannot see is where I am going. I know not what the morning will bring; but there is much I do know. I know of those things I share with those closest to me. I know not just of the sadness and toil. I also know of the joy and kinship shared between us. I fear for the welfare of all my people, not just those close around me.

  “I wonder where our wanderings will take us. What obstacles will we meet along the way? What new things will we see and learn? I feel responsibility for ensuring my people go in the right direction. Yet when I see someone take what I see to be the wrong direction, I feel regret that I could not persuade him to abstain.”

  “That is what sets you apart, my friend. Could you not have forced your friend to do your will? There are many, in other places, who have tried . . . and many have succeeded, to a point. You, on the other hand, have seen the futility of depriving another of his right to choose. You want to influence others to do the right thing, but not at the expense of depriving them of their agency.”

  “I am beginning to understand what it is you are offering. But there is much for me to consider. And there are others who need to know what may come to pass.”

  “I would caution you, my friend. To reveal much at this time carries great risk. The decision you soon must make will have great impact on your clan. If you decide to leave, the social system in use now will remain in play. When you return at a later time, if you observe closely, you may see how well or poorly your system has worked. Then, if it seems to be moving off course and needs a little adjusting, you can return for a while and maybe give it a little nudge from time to time. But! It is important to remember that a nudge is just that. It is persuasion, not dictation.”

  “The right to choose. This I understand. There are many that I have faith in. There are but few whom I trust. My father, my mate, my brother Broc. There was a third, but she has departed.” Amon paused, remembering the sadness he felt when Nera was killed.

  “Very well. Confer as you deem necessary. Take time as you need. There will be many things you will want to know before the decision is made. You have but to touch the device. It will remember you and will bring us together again, as now.”