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Authors: B. Roman

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BOOK: The War Chamber
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Nine

Certain that everyone is asleep, David slips quietly from his room and out of the house. He makes his way stealthily along the streets, hugging the buildings, unaware that someone is following him who also moves in the shadows. Once he is beyond the Coronadus village square, David sprints across the open field to the main harbor, then slows his pace along the strip of dockside warehouses. Looking for an entryway to one of the sheds, he tries one door, then another. No luck. He finds a window that is slightly ajar, forces it open, and crawls inside.

Right behind David, the mysterious figure hesitates at the open window but walks on past.

The water ripples and splashes gently at the pilings as David walks along the marina. Trying to accustom his eyes to the dim light, he steps cautiously closer to what looks like a boat hull anchored to a slip. Mysteriously, as though aiding David's vision, the moonlight moves directly overhead and shines through the skylight windows of the shed.

Now seeing the boat clearly, David approaches it, and notices there are about a dozen others lined up in a long, neat row. Their sails are wrapped tightly around tall masts. David seeks out a gangway, but none is down. He finds a scaffold and climbs it to access the deck of one of the boats.

On the other side of the shed, David's pursuer climbs up another catwalk high above and watches David as he inspects the boat.

Intuitively, David senses a presence. “Is someone there?” he calls out, turning to look left and right, but not upward. Hearing no response, David descends the ladder to the lower deck. It is pitch black, impossible to see. David climbs back up the ladder and, just as his foot touches the main deck again, David is tackled and wrestled to the floor. He struggles fiercely, fights the intruder off, pins him down, and straddles over him. Catching a clear glimpse of his attacker's face in the moonlight, David is shocked.

“Sokar! What's the idea you jumping me like that!”

“What's the idea you sneaking around here in the middle of the night!”

“What's the idea you sneaking around following me!”

Sokar struggles under David's superior, muscular weight. “I have to protect Bianca and my sister from danger,” Sokar says grittily.

“Danger? I'm no danger to anyone.”

“Bianca said you were. Because of the crystals, we're all in danger now. Why did you come here? And get off me!”

“You wouldn't understand,” David says, releasing Sokar and helping him stand. “It's personal.”

Sokar rubs his underdeveloped arms and rolls his sore neck. “What has your personal business got to do with Bianca?”

“I'm not here for Bianca,” David says. “I was using the crystals to find my mother.”

“Is she lost?” Sokar says, now his usual flip self.

“She's dead.”

Sokar is both surprised and contrite. “You're mother, too? I'm sorry.”

“You! You there!” a voice bellows out across the marina. “What are you doing here?”

Stunned, Sokar whispers to David, “It's Sechmet. He mustn't see you.”

“Why? Who is he?” David whispers back.

“Bianca told me to avoid him if at all possible. Where Sechmet goes, trouble follows. Quick, come this way.”

They climb down the scaffolding and scurry to the far side of the shed, through a steel door and out to the harbor. In record time, they race side by side through the field to the village square and home, then collapse heaving with exhaustion on the front veranda. The two boys, so different and yet so alike, look at each other lying limp and spent on the ground, and burst out laughing with relief and camaraderie.

The next morning, David and Sokar share a picnic basket of goodies created by Maati, and lounge lazily in Sokar's rowboat not far from shore. From this vantage point, David can see the efficient design of the Coronadus main harbor, lined on its longest side with numerous warehouses and sheds for boats and ships. It reminds him of the harbor in Port Avalon.

“What kind of boats are in those sheds, Sokar, commercial or private?”

“Neither,” Sokar replies between munches of a chicken leg. “They sit idle.”

“How come? What's wrong with them?”

“Bianca said they are very unusual boats. They have sails and engines both. The engines propel the boats out of calm areas and into the path of predicted winds where the sails are hoisted and the engines are then cut.”

“Sounds fuel efficient.”

“That's one reason for the design. The other is for the silence in approaching the enemy, when we had enemies. The sails could be operated from the shore by a special transmitter without running the engines.” Sokar bites into a juicy piece of fruit that dribbles down his chin.

“Computerized sailboats? But nothing here is driven by technology. At least nothing I've seen so far.”

“What's
computerized
?” Sokar asks, wiping his chin with his sleeve.

“It's - well – it's hard to explain, but you can operate anything from a computer, even ships, all because of a tiny silicon chip. Do your transmitters use silicon?”

“I never heard of it. I think they used crystal, very special crystal that no longer exists, not since the destruction.”

“What destruction?” David asks, feeling a nervous sense of
deja vu
.

“I don't remember much,” Sokar says, trying to recall painful, but faded memories. “I was very young. My mother died then. And Maati and I came to live with Bianca. After that, all of Coronadus changed. The people stopped striving for money and riches, gave up fighting over things. Everyone gets what they need. Nobody pays for anything, at least not with money. You have to give something in return.”

“You mean like bartering? Give someone food in exchange for clothes or mowing the lawn?”

“Yes. And if you have nothing to give, you give of yourself in some way.”

“That's why Rami gave me the Wind Rose,” David muses aloud. “I wonder what he thought I could give him in return.”

David takes out his compass and holds it up. “Do you know what our nautical position is, Sokar?”

Sokar cackles a laugh. “What are you doing with that thing?”

“Bianca says this compass is wind driven. I want to see if it really works.”

“It won't work in Coronadus. There's no wind. Ever.”

“What do you mean there's no wind?”

Now Sokar bursts out with a heartier laugh. “Bianca was right.”

“What do you – Oh, yeah,” David says sheepishly, restraining himself from asking
that
question. “Well, you guys are always giving me mysterious answers that I can never understand. Anyway, there has to be wind out here if the boats in your harbor set sail.”

“But that's why they don't set sail. At least, that's one reason they don't anymore.”

“You mean all those boats in the shed are never used?”

Sokar shakes his head with impatience. “Well, they can't go if there is no power for the engines and no wind for the sails.”

“I'll bet I can make the Wind Rose work. Watch this.” David opens his pouch of crystals and removes the little Singer. Instantly, the Wind Rose spins to SSE and holds its position.

Sokar is shocked and moves to look closer at the compass. “How did you do that?”

“It's my Singer crystal. It did it before, too. It shook your Mom up and she said to never let anyone know.” David looks out over the water toward the compass direction. Suddenly he stands straight up in the boat almost tipping it over.

“Sokar, look! Out there!”

Puzzled, Sokar peers toward the open sea. It takes a moment for his brain to absorb what his eyes witness. “I don't believe it. A ship. A ship is coming!”

In seconds, the wind builds up from dead still to a gale force. The picnic basket goes flying and Sokar almost falls out of the boat when he instinctively grabs for it. But as the ship comes closer, Sokar forgets the basket and gawks at the splendid sight before him. The dazzling clipper ship's sails are full blown, her crystal masts sparkle and glisten in the sunlight, and she moves with elegance and grace atop the water.

Unsteady on his feet, Sokar rises to stand next to David. “I must be dreaming,” he whispers. “Am I dreaming?”

The magnificent clipper is, indeed, the stuff of dreams, but for David she is very real. “No, Sokar. You're not. It's her!” David says, almost delirious with relief and joy. “She's here! She's here. Now I can go home.”

The Moon Singer stops and holds her position a few hundred yards away. The wind dies down just as quickly as it had whipped up. The air is as still as before. Not a whisper of a movement is felt.

Sokar flops down on the rowboat bench, stunned speechless. Then with a sudden revelation, he grabs up the oars and rows with fierce determination and strength.

“We have to tell Bianca,” Sokar exclaims. “She'll never believe this. No one will.”

Ten

“Is this the ship you told me about, David?” Bianca asks, her voice edged with a mix of excitement and dread.

David nods. “Yes. The Moon Singer.”

Sokar is amazed that Bianca is not surprised. “You know about this ship?”

“Yes, Sokar. It's time you knew the truth. David, too. Come with me.”

The bewildered boys follow Bianca to her bedroom. She takes the lacquered jewelry box from her dressing table drawer and removes the wood sculpture.

“Let me see your Singer, David.”

David opens his pouch and gives Bianca the crystal, which she lays side by side with the little wood ship.

“They look exactly alike,” David says, “like the same person carved them both.”

“Many centuries ago,” Bianca begins her story, “a cataclysmic event was prophesied and it was feared that all the great knowledge that had been acquired would be destroyed if it were recorded in books. So, the very wise scholars programmed a large vein of crystals with all their knowledge and all the knowledge of the Universe, then rematerialized the crystals into the earth. They trusted, when the time was right, that the crystal would surface and be attracted to the people who would use this wisdom well.

“Many years later, this vein was discovered by my father and my husband. Like the wise, uncorrupted men and women before them, they recognized both the potential for greatness and the potential for evil in such power. My father and my husband broke up the vein of crystals and fashioned it into the three masts of the Moon Singer, which represent Love, Wisdom and Truth.

“They set the ship adrift on a pre-programmed course to another dimension where she would be safe from unscrupulous men. Before they did, however, they chiseled a bit of crystal from each mast and fashioned the chips into the Singer crystal, which they named The Record Keeper. Some people also call it the Crystal of Wisdom. The Singer is the only crystal that can activate the ship's many powers.

“When my father knew he would soon die he wanted to give it to my husband. But my husband knew that the secrets of the Moon Singer were in danger of being revealed, for his work had been ransacked more than once by thieves in the night looking for the Singer. To protect it, we buried it with my father so that even in death he could direct that it be found by the right person. As a remembrance, my husband carved a replica of the Singer out of wood and gave it to me.”

“But if the Singer was buried, how did my Aunt Dorothy find it?”

“You said she brought it back from one of her archeological digs. She must have found it unwittingly. Some burial grounds that were destroyed after the Great War have been unearthed recently.”

“What war?”

“The war that my people fought with an invading army who came to Coronadus.”

“Are you saying my aunt was digging here? In Coronadus?”

“No, no. The earthly counterpart to Coronadus.”

“Earthly counterpart? What does
that
mean?” David was now feeling like the little ball in a ping-pong game, being whacked not with a paddle but with startling information he couldn't comprehend.

“It's too complicated to explain now. This is why Ishtar and I were separated. I wanted him to save our daughter, Saliana –”

“Wait – wait!” David interrupts her. “Saliana is your daughter?” Another astounding whack of information sends him reeling. “You mean Ishtar is your - ?”

“Yes, my husband. Ishtar took Saliana away to the Island. I stayed behind and joined the underground to help save our people. But most of them died, brutally, savagely. Only a few of us survived. The invaders left when they couldn't find the coveted crystals.”

“Why didn't Ishtar and Saliana come back then?”

“They were working on that when their plans were intercepted.”

David's body sags as though all the energy has been sucked out of it. “It's because of me that everything has gone wrong. Aunt Dorothy should never have given the Singer to somebody as stupid as me.”

“Oh, but David, she was meant to find the Singer and bring it to you. It was pre-destined. She was but a runner, as we say, someone who brings a sign, symbol or message to the person who is to receive it at the right time.”

“You mean I'd never have found it on my own?”

“No, you would never have traveled to that precise point of the Earth where the Moon Singer was placed, not at your young age. Obviously, there is some great event occurring in your world at this time that required the Singer be found.”

“But why me? I still don't know what to do with it,” David laments. “Why not you? Your father and Ishtar must have told you what to do with it?”

“No. They were worried about my safety and didn't want me to know how or where to find the Moon Singer.”

“Well, now everyone will know where she is,” Sokar injects anxiously. “She's anchored barely a half mile off the beach.”

“Then we've got to hide her,” Bianca decides.

“How do you hide a 200 foot ship?” David quips.

“We have to get her out of this world into another dimension.”

“That's fine with me,” David agrees, hoping this is his opportunity to go home. “I don't know why I'm here in the first place.”

“Did you forget, David? You came here to resolve your feelings about your mother's death.”

“You mean I should stay here,” David says, realizing now, of course, he must stay and finish what he started.

“But that means the Moon Singer will be discovered,” Sokar reminds them.

David ponders a minute. “Maybe not. If I could bring her here with the Singer, maybe I can send her away with it. Come on with me to the beach.”

Moments later, David, Sokar and Bianca kneel down on the sand as David lays out his crystals in the Star of David gridwork pattern. This time he places the Singer in a different position, at the bottom of the apex instead of at the top.

“What are you doing?” Sokar is fascinated by the ritual.

“I'm not sure, but if it works, the Moon Singer will reverse her course.”

“In that case, I suggest you dismantle the grid immediately.”

Startled, David and Sokar stare up at the intruder, speechless. Bianca palms the Singer and tucks it in her boot. She stands to face Sechmet, almost imperial in her redress.

“Sechmet, I must insist you tell no one of this.”

“Trust me, I want no one else to know,” Sechmet says, a bit too smoothly. “I always suspected you knew how to conjure up the Moon Singer, but I wasn't sure until the boy arrived, the boy with yellow hair.”

David stands up at the reference to his appearance. He is irritated now. “Why is my hair such an object of fascination? I know a lot of people with yellow – I mean, blond, hair.”

“The boy's hair is of no consequence, Sechmet,” Bianca says, dismissing the subject. “I want to know what you intend to do now.”

“I want to share this treasure with you, Bianca,” he says, solicitously. “Think of it. We shall have the world, you and I.”

“No. You know what happened the last time. I will have none of it. Never again.”

“You are a foolish and selfish woman, Bianca,” Sechmet suddenly lashes out. “Your absurd idealism is killing Coronadus and everyone in it.”

“My absurd idealism is what saved us!”

“That's not what the people think. Not any longer. They believe you tricked them with your anti-war ramblings, and especially your disdain for any kind of material wealth.”

“Too much emphasis on the material is mind numbing,” Bianca preaches flatly. “It keeps us from focusing on the spiritual. We become self-serving instead of serving each other. Now we have all we need, without care or worry. That's what the people wanted.”

“Well, now they are bored with their existence,” Sechmet counters, “and boredom breeds contempt. They are tired of bartering for all their needs, of having no feeling of accomplishment, no pleasure in having more than their neighbors who may deserve little or nothing for their efforts. And restless. They are so restless. They want to be able to travel to new worlds again. They will do anything to change their life. Anything.”

“Then there is nothing I can do about it,” Bianca says, defiantly. “Let them do as they will. It will be on their heads.”

“No, Bianca. On yours. Because you have the power to keep them under control. All you need do is share it with me.”

Sechmet's demeanor changes from insistent to conciliatory, a skill he employs to cajole and manipulate people into doing what he wanted. There was a time that it worked on Bianca, and it cost her sister's life.

“Please, give me the Singer, Bianca,” and I will use it to keep them at bay,” Sechmet promises. “I will use the Moon Singer as a way to keep them content and satisfied. Then, they'll do whatever you wish.”

Bianca sneers. “You mean whatever
you
wish, Sechmet. Besides, the Singer is not mine to give. It belongs to David, and I doubt he will ever turn it over to you or anyone else.”

“You got that right!” David injects forcefully.

“Then, we will take it from you,” Sechmet states as though the deed was done.

“Yeah! You and what army!” David challenges him.

“The people of Coronadus will decide who deserves to have the Singer.”

Maati who has been silent until now, having a hard time absorbing all the intrigue, suddenly shows her spirit. “Gonna gang up on one kid, you big bully?” Maati yells. She moves in to kick Sechmet in the shins, but he intercepts her with a strong hand and she kicks madly at the air. Infuriated, David and Sokar join the fray and begin to punch at Sechmet.

“Stop it. Stop it now!” Bianca demands, pulling them all off. “I agree with Sechmet. Let the people decide. Sechmet, we accept your challenge.”

“Beware, for it will be a fight to the finish,” Sechmet pronounces, pleased at the possibility.

“Yes,” Bianca says. “Yours.”

“You know better than to underestimate me, Bianca.”

“You underestimate the boy,” she replies, glaring at Sechmet with steely eyes.

“Tomorrow, then. At high noon.”

“We'll be there.”

BOOK: The War Chamber
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