Unison (The Spheral) (52 page)

“In any case, your romanticism is misguided. Conflicting religions and ideologies is why humanity still exists in a dark age. All the Ancient readings at the repository prove our inability to recognize the good life while we're living it.”

“You would get a long with my friend Tyrus.” I removed my shoes and walked to the center archway. A man, dressed in a white robe, stood near the entrance chanting a haunting melody. His voice echoed throughout the interior, and his almost perfect pitch made the hair on my arms stand on end.

Vivek reached into his pocket and tossed some coins in a collection dish, which sat in front of a row of candles. “Why? Because I dare speak the truth? They did not believe the words of their own gods.”

“I found my truth when I crossed the old tunnel for the first time.” I gazed up at the support columns of the arches and slowly turned to assimilate the full grandeur of the dome. Some of the tesserae were faded and cracked, but the windows around the dome were maintained through the centuries. The beams of light that entered though them produced an otherworldly glow, and made the mosaic tiles reflect like tiny lights. “No matter what trials we force ourselves through, the soul of man refuses to be obliterated. We find ways to survive.” I walked around the main room and touched the wall. “Religion may have separated the Ancients, but it also saved them and gave them the strength to endure the Great Cataclysm.”

“Pah! If there was no religion, they would not have placed themselves in a position where they needed to be saved.”

I smiled and said nothing because Vivek was as right as he was wrong. I couldn’t be as fatalistic as he and Tyrus, yet I couldn’t exercise absolute faith either. The best position for me fell somewhere in the middle, but I wasn’t sure what that meant, or it if meant anything at all.

As we continued our travels through Ancient Iran and Afghanistan, Vivek began to teach me Tibindi, the language of Middle Crest. Once we crossed over into Pakistan, we stopped for a rest in the Kashmir Valley. A thriving community of Outsiders lived in huts made of stone and mud, and a large outdoor market stood in the center of this community as well. We set up our tents nearby and traded our horses for mules, which would fare better during the climb.

Three days later, we began our ascent of the Himalayas following an Ancient traveling route. When we arrived in Middle Crest Valley, we came across a monastery built into the cliff, overlooking the Indus River. The monks invited us in, and we joined them for a meal that we ate in silence. We were offered a room for the night, which was a relief. Vivek and I were not in the mood to pitch tents as the weather was unusually cold for the season. We continued our journey next morning, riding on stone-carved paths along the Indus River. After half a day of travel, Shisa and the mules needed water. We stopped for a break.

“Merchants still travel these roads,” Vivek said. “This route has been used for the same purpose, long before the borders on that map of yours existed.”

“How did they manage to maintain all of this?”

“The surrounding mountains on the east, west and north protect local communities from the outside world. During the winter, most of the paths are obstructed due to heavy snowfall. The only way out is to hike along a mostly frozen river to the Indus Valley, and the journey is hazardous. One slip could land the hapless traveler under a sheet of ice.”

I raised both my brows. “I never died by drowning before.”

“You may get your chance this time if you are not careful.” Vivek laughed.

I got out my camcorder and set it to take some still pictures.

“Wait until you cast your eyes on the Crossings,” Vivek said. “The foundation sits in front of the Indus River.”

We continued on our trek, and I told Vivek about Unity and how I lost Flora through each of my incarnations.

“Even Suti knows that to move forward, you must learn from your errors,” Vivek said.

“It’s not that easy.”

“No more effort than a snap!” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that! Then once you reflect back on everything, you will realize you wasted your time on balderdash.”

I snapped my finger. “Strange. I don’t feel any different.”

“Pah! You are a very funny man. They will love you at the Crossings.”

We approached one of the first villages in the valley, and three children ran over to us. A girl handed me a flower and invited us to dine in her home. After our meal, we got back onto our mules. As we road off, I watched a boy and his father plow a small field with the assistance of a few yaks.

“The children work hard here,” I said.

“All the tribes along the Himalayas have to be self-reliant. Men push handheld plows to till the land while the women gather the crops to prepare them for trade. The boys sheer sheep and plow with their fathers, and the girls tend to the yaks and make cheeses from their milk.”

At first I was galled that a young child would be assigned such difficult work, but it seemed to bother me more than him. He laughed with his father and looked genuinely happy. While I had happy moments in my own childhood, they never endured. I hoped to have a father in a future incarnation, so I could laugh like that boy.

MIDDLE CREST

A
fter passing a meadow filled with wildflowers, we trekked up another stretch of the Indus River before arriving at Middle Crest. The main complex was carved into the cliff like the monastery we visited. Beneath was a stable that housed yaks and sheep. Off to the side was a small stretch of farmland irrigated by the annual melting glaciers.

“What is your impression?” Vivek asked.

“The view alone is worth the sixteen weeks of travel.” I got off my mule and pointed my camcorder at Vivek.

He outstretched his hand towards his home. “May I present to you the Crossings, the largest enclave in all of Middle Crest. It was founded shortly after the Great Cataclysm by two friends of opposing faiths. They were tired of the fighting and decided to form their own community. As the population grew, the male residents helped build homes for each family that chose to remain here. We continue the practice to this day.”

Vivek led me to his living quarters, and Tanzin greeted us at the door. She placed her palms together and bowed her head towards me. “I brewed some tea a while ago. It’s still warm,” she said to Vivek.

“Thank you, Tanzin. We’ll take it in the sitting room.”

I followed Vivek inside.

“We have a guest,” Tanzin called out. “I’ll bring him to you.”

Vivek led me to an almost barren living room with large yak skin pillows scattered around a small rug. A small unlit candle sat in the middle.

“I imagined you as a minimalist,” I said.

“I prefer to keep things simple.”

Tanzin entered the room holding a tea tray. Vivek and I took our cups, and I almost spilled my tea when Tyrus entered. He appeared equally as startled by my presence.

“How did you find this place?” I asked.

“I was going to ask you the same question.”

“I met Vivek in New Athenia. He made Middle Crest sound interesting, so I came.”

Tyrus shook Vivek’s hand and spoke to him in Knosian. “Your chambermaid has been very kind to me—and patient with my inability to communicate.” He took a cup of tea from the tray and bowed to Tanzin.

“Tanzin understands the language of kindness,” Vivek said.

“That she does.” Tyrus looked at me. “Do you speak Tibindi?”

“Not fluently, but enough to get by.”

“I’ve never done so much nodding and head-shaking in this lifetime. Suti has been attempting to teach me the language, but I’m a slow learner.”

“Sutara?”

Tyrus smiled. “You’ll meet her soon. She’s napping now.” He sat on one of the pillows. “I had recurring dreams about her and the Himalayas. They were so vivid, and my compulsion to visit was too strong to resist. I traveled alone until I got to the outer valley, and from there I recruited a stablehand to take me up here. When I first spotted the Crossings, I immediately recognized it from my dreams.” Tyrus rubbed his forehead as though in pain.

“Are you still sick?”

“Never mind me. How did your meeting with Flora turn out?”

Tyrus only had to look at my expression to know the answer. After I filled him in on what happened, I told him I never wanted to discuss it again. The final expression on Flora’s face returned each time I thought about that dreadful night, and I had managed to put it out of my mind, until now.

Everyone devoured the lentils and barley stew Tanzin made, but I was too stunned to eat. In front of me sat Sutara. She had the same eyes, same hair, same dark skin as the Sutara from my visions, but there was one difference: she was in her ninth year of life. Sutara peered at me as though she knew what I was thinking.

I pointed to a dish in the center of the table. “Carrot halva?”

Sutara nodded and took a bite of her food.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was a child?” I asked Vivek in Knosian.

“I told Uncle Vivek not to tell you,” Sutara responded in flawless Knosian. Unlike Vivek, there wasn’t even a hint of an accent.

“Why not?” I leaned my elbows on the table and crossed my hands.

“I didn’t think you’d come if you knew.”

“And I wanted to see the look on your face when you found out.” Tyrus laughed.

I smiled at Tyrus. “The next move is mine, and you’ll never see it until after it happens.”

Sutara laughed, and I took a bite of food. Vivek was right about Tanzin’s cooking. If every meal was like this one, I could easily do without meat.

“You eat fast, like Master Tyrus,” Sutara said. “Does all your tribe eat that way?”

“When we’re taken by surprise,” I answered in Tibindi.

“How did you learn our language so fast?”

“Vivek taught me.”

Sutara glanced towards Vivek.

“You were correct,” Vivek said. “You and Master Damon have a lot in common.”

“Like what?” Sutara cupped her ear in his direction.

Vivek shook his head. “I concede. He has a good memory, just like yours.”

Sutara crossed her arms and smiled victoriously.

“However, one truth uncovered does not make every claim you make valid. If you ponder the meaning behind your foreknowledge, you can come up with a variety of explanations,” Vivek said. “We should question everything before believing in it.”

Sutara looked at me. “My uncle always has to speak the last words.” She leaned her elbows on the table and cradled her chin between her hands. “How much do you remember, Master Damon?”

“I can recall five previous incarnations.”

Tanzin froze and looked at me. “You are the other prophet Sutara was talking about?”

“I’m not a prophet.”

“You said you have a timeless memory…like Sutara.”

“Tanzin thinks what we do is a miracle. I say no way.” Sutara sat up. “What do you think?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I said.

Sutara smiled at Tanzin. “See, even he doesn’t believe such nonsense.”

“I never said—”

“Uncertainty means you don’t believe. Right Uncle Vivek?”

Vivek tossed a roll at Sutara, who giggled.