The Prophesy: Book 4 - Armageddon

 

The diplomatic team in the Amazon basin had yet to reach the half mark in its goal, and already a month had passed. The interruption for the trial of the Usurper had been brief and a welcome respite for all, but a job still had to be dealt with. The number of gods was astronomical; just about everything that moved, from venomous insects to clouds, were perceived as such. The rituals applied to boys to mark the passage to adulthood were also as varied, as they were barbaric. A tribe had the boys wear a full body of stinging bees; another had body piercing done to the genitals; and quite a few used scarifications of all sorts, generally to maximize pain. Circumcision, sub-incision, insertion of objects across the nose, the ears, the lips, the eyebrows, and naturally the penis and scrotum were common. The females were no less exposed to rituals as boys were, from the ablation of the clitoris to the sewing of the big lips until such time as the girl had her first sexual relation. Scarification was also widespread. Tattoos of all sorts marred the beautiful body of the natives, much to the despair of the boys. The boys were appalled by what they discovered and clearly stated these rituals were to end right on the spot.

"Ian, what is the percentage of load on the stasis chambers?" asked, one day, Xianathan.

"I have no idea. Let's verify with Paschal. Why do you ask?"

"We have been dumping just about everyone to the General Hospital due to the need to fix the damage caused by the rituals of passage. That makes for a lot of people. And I know there were issues with the last bunker in the United Kingdoms of Americus."

"You are right. Maybe we should slow down. Let me check."

Ian focussed and contacted Paschal.

«Paschal what is the current usage of the different chambers at the General Hospital?»

«Short-term occupancy is at one hundred percent; medium-term occupancy is at the same level; long-term is at half. Psychiatric wards are at full occupancy; cryogenic is at half. Why do you ask?»

«We noticed that out of the recovered population so far in the Amazon basin, most suffer some form of infection or other, over half have suffered intentional torture, which translate into psychiatric treatment following biological repairs. We have recovered one hundred and twenty-five thousand people so far. If this rate continues, will we run out of space?"

"We have enough cryogenic chambers left to take them all. The procedure is as follows. The moment they are ported, they are put in cryogenic chambers. Then, as short-term chambers are released, they are moved in to receive treatment to remove any object, and the body is put into regenerative fluid and repaired. Then, they are returned to the cryogenic chambers to await medium-term treatment, such as full skin regeneration to remove scars and tattoos. After another stay in the cryogenic chambers, they are sent for long-term reconstruction of their nervous system, including visual, auditory, tactile and olfactory. It is at that period that the Atlantean genome is superimposed on their original genome, overriding their prime genome pattern. After that they are put into cryogenic chambers to rest, since this procedure is biologically stressful. The last step is psychiatric reconstruction, and is the longest. It usually includes full reprogramming of social structures, eradication of psychiatric trauma associated with past experiences, and the like. They do not necessarily forget; yet we want them to realise that this was useless and served no other purpose then to reduce them to malleable slaves by power-greedy individuals. The last stay in cryogenic chambers is the longest. We must incorporate the newcomers in the Atlantean society progressively, and educate them from the bottom up. The neural dump that precedes this last stay must be fully assimilated before we release them.»

«My lord, how much time are we talking about?»

«Short-tem is defined as less then a week. Medium-term is less then or equal to a month. The rest is long-term. The average stay for those from the bunker is a year. Our soldiers, depending on the severity of their wounds, stay a week to a month. The only exception is your Dragon King Father, who has a very long stay ahead of him, and Greywolf, who has eight months still to undergo before his body is fully regenerated. All victims of the last war have been released as good as new. The only current flow is training accidents, and most only require a stay in the biobed, not a stay in the chambers.»

«So we are clear to continue the rescue until we reach the end, that is another one hundred and twenty-five thousand?» asked Ian.

«Yes. I so no shortage of space in the long-term cryogenic chambers. And since you send them by packets every week, we are usually able to put them in the short-term chambers on arrival for emergency procedures bypassing the cryogenic chambers, then transfer them directly to the medium-term ones for longer repairs, with a final stay in the cryogenic chambers for long-term. There, I've instituted first come first run sequencing. That means those rescued from the bunkers and other places during the war with the United Kingdoms of Americus go to long-term therapy first, since they have been in frozen the longest.»

***

On the African continent, Dunbar, Nestor Yamato, Williams and their thirty-two legions were moving up the Congo River. The first part of their plan was setting up a base from which to progress, and that had taken somewhat more time then initially planned. The cliffs overlooking the mouth of the River proved very fragile and cracked; a couple of rough landings by the dragons had caused landslides. Fortunately, no one was on the beach when these unfortunate incidents occurred. Dunbar had required that the camp be moved further inland, even if it brought them closer to numerous predators.

The next task was assigning terrains to explore and scan in depth, while the Dragons and Pegasuses kept an eye from above. The Elves handled botanical aspects, while the Dwarfs handled forest and the Legionnaires dealt with open savannah by riding on horseback. Spiders handled long-range patrols on the ground, directly under the control of Yamato.

Returning from the general meeting in Thebes, the four men began in earnest the exploration of the Congo. Their first obstacle was the presence of rapids just a few miles inland, marking the end of the delta. Elves wanted to get samples of underwater vegetation, and legionnaires wanted to get specimens of fish and reptiles. In order to satisfy the need of each party, another centurie of Spiders were required from Paschal's production chain and arrived just as the royals returned.

The vegetation along the river was at first adapted to the constant change between brackish and fresh water produced by tides. Further away from the riverbanks, the land became quasi-desertic, reddish in colour, as thick layers of sand covered the open areas. Herds of animals, descendants of the original fauna of the area, roamed wild and unhindered. The three groups of collectors teamed up to transport sufficient ecosystem segments to insure their viability in the different tessaracts.

As they moved further inland, the vegetation changed, and became richer. It took the appearance of a wet savannah, much greener then the savannah that had been the home of the Centaurs. A new set of trees, bushes and animals joined those already collected in the tessaracts.

"Aren't you afraid of damaging the ecosystems by collecting that much?" asked Nestor, one night, as they watched the ever increasing falling star shower.

"Nestor, we know you did not undergo the Test, and therefore do not know what we know. However, rest assured we could skin the planet to bedrock and it still would be less then what is coming."

"You scare me, Yamato. What's that Test? And why did I not pass it?"

"I think Harp believes you are too old to survive the Ordeal. You may be Atlantean, but you are way past surviving that, and Harp values you more alive then dead."

"What is that Ordeal that seems to change everyone? They go in there children and come out with more maturity then an old man on his death bed!"

"We have talked to those that have undergone the Ordeal; none had the same. Each Ordeal team undergoes a different series of tests. We could tell you of ours, but it would not tell you how to prepare for yours," replied Williams.

"But if it is done in a team "

"I think that, the moment you enter Paschal's Labyrinth, each team member is evaluated and the rest of tests are adapted to their respective capacities and slightly beyond. There have been very few casualties, but there have been some, mostly, I would think, from people who did not go beyond what they thought they could do."

"Paschal's Labyrinth? Oh no! Are you telling me that Ian...?"

"Yes, Ian led the first team through the Ordeal. Nestor, you have not even managed to bond with a Dragon! You cannot hope pass those tests and survive!"

Just as Dunbar said that, a bang was heard overhead, and a bright light flashed, waking up the sleepy countryside.

"That one was a big meteorite!" said Nestor, impressed.

"Yes. The first roll of the drums," replied Williams mysteriously.

Nestor looked at the three men, wondering what Williams meant. They were hiding something, something terrible.

The night passed with a show of falling stars that both fascinated and worried Nestor. There were no more noisy explosions, but the number of falling stars visible was impressive. Nestor had problems recognizing constellations, and those invisible from the northern hemisphere were totally unknown to him. Others seemed to have vanished completely as they were now too low on the horizon. He wondered if the exceedingly cloudy skies of the kingdom was not hiding to all a change that might explain what was driving Harold to run like a madman to do what he yet did not understand.

***

Paschal was working on a very mysterious and very secret project. Each time someone asked him what it was, he replied, "It's nothing!" but no one could believe that Paschal would work on a trivial pursuit for long, so they tried to catch a glimpse of his work. The fact that he visited the Pyramids to consult and try to resolve an equation set that seemed to be particularly hard to crack added to the level of curiosity.

Meanwhile Harp, oblivious to Paschal's mystery work, was training his older brothers, sisters, and Jefferson in the arcane mysteries of magic. He had to explain everything. As he was trying to explain the rules once again, he told them that to succeed in magic, you must have a perfect image of what you want, and that you need the will to do it.

"I thought you said we needed the verb? I do not see where seeing and verbalizing are the same?" asked a frustrated Jefferson.

"Let me give you a demonstration. Let's say I want a coin, like this. Notice the result: it is a piece of metal with a big number ten on it. That sure doesn't look like a coin. I used the vague image of a coin as a piece of metal with a number on it intentionally, and that is exactly what I got."

Everyone in the class passed the bit of metal around, noticing it had a number on one side, no clear form, nothing on the other face, and the composition seemed a combination of a dozen badly amalgamated metals.

"Now, let me think of a gold coin, weighing one ounce, with a portrait of Harold viewed in profile, with a date, say V, indicating that this is the fifth year of Harold's reign, a fine letter saying Annus Rex Regnum; on the other face, a copy of the Seal of Atlantis. The side is to be perfectly circular, with crenatures totally exactly one hundred and fifty. I now have a relatively precise image. Who can tell me what is missing?"

"The nominal value?" Piano said.

"That is right. Again we will use the value ten, written in Arabic numeral, base ten. I will refine to say the coin will use a font four, Latin style, on both faces, and the writing will be around the edges of the coin. We could say the coin represents ten Atlanteans, so beside the ten, we write the monetary unit. Everyone has a clear image of the coin so far?"

After a series of nods, Harp continued.

"Let's say I want to make it so the coin has raised ridges, the profile and the Seal of Atlantis are raised to the same level as the ridges, while the writing, including its date of production and its value are engraved inside, deeper then the median face. Am I forgetting anything?"

After a few seconds, Jefferson said, "What about the kingdom's motto? We would have enough on the face presenting the Seal, I think."

"Let's see, the motto is 'Do what must!' we can write it in Atlantean, Latin, English, or any other language, but we must select one language."

"I think Latin would be best, since the face is Latin."

"So it is, Violin. Now, everyone got a clear image?"

"Now let's make it."

Harp created a gold coin, in his hand but hid it.

"Ok, I want you to create your gold coin, and we'll see if your clear image is as clear as mine was."

"But you did not say what verb to use!" Cello said, baffled.

"Use whatever verb you wish, as long as you think of the coin, you should get the proper result."

The results were far from satisfactory. Each one had a different image of a gold coin; even the weight varied considerably, from flimsy pancake to a thick cylinder of gold-looking metal. The profiles varied as much as the thickness, and the position of the letter was very approximate. The students looked at their production and laughed heartily at their own production or the production of others.

"After laughing at our results, Harp, how about showing us your gold coin?" said Banjo.

Harp produced a perfectly proportioned gold coin, with a finely engraved lettering, a very beautiful and recognizable profile of Harold on one face, and the Seal of Atlantis on the other. Everyone whistled at the workmanship.

"So, who says this is one ounce?" asked Viola.

"Let's walk to the Dwarfs' laboratories. I'm sure Diamondcutter or his son, Thorsten, have a very precise balance. They need it for jewellery work, and they also need it to prepare chemical compositions to test products."

"And how do you plan to prove this is gold, not some mix that looks like it?"

"There is a principle, the principle of Archimedes. You studied it during the tests in the Pyramids, but now, you will have to put it into practice. Bring your coins; we will test their purity as well as mine! I am sure the dwarfs have tri-distilled water to prevent contamination during chemical preparations."

"Bring that flop too! I want to see how far off you were!" said Banjo as he looked at Harp's random coin manufacture.

***

Typhoon, the Dragon King, kept busy with the rescue of the eggs from the old nest of the Seraphrims. Wave after wave of dragons carried the eggs to Thebes, much to the amazement of the Matriarch, who had thought the promises of the Dragon Patriarch were empty of substance and that he would get bored of the task before completing it. She couldn't help to marvel at the care the Elves and the Dwarfs put in packaging and un-packaging the precious cargo. She just could not understand the dedication, and the abnegation of these strange carbon-based life forms. That the Dragons could care, she understood; after all they shared a common composition, but the others?

One interruption had bothered her, but the Dragon king simply said that justice had to be rendered. What did he mean by that, to whom, she didn't ask, even if curiosity kept bringing her mind back to that ominous and strange answer. All sorts of speculations were crossing her mind, and the fact that the little carbon-based one, Ian, had not yet returned to visit her as the project neared its end added to her feeling of dread.

Finally, as the last batch of eggs arrived, along with a huge number of dwarfs and Elves, she couldn't stand it anymore. As she kept a watchful ear on the last twenty eggs being carefully cleansed of the fungus that had surreptitiously contaminated their shells before they were to be placed in the last chamber of the new nest, she resolved to ask the questions that had been troubling her.

«Dragon Patriarch, I have some questions. Would you care to answer them for me?»

«Certainly, Matriarch of the Seraphrims, what are they?»

«First, I have not seen the little one that invited me here. Is he sick?»

«No, he is fine, as far as I know. He is doing work for the kingdom of Atlantis. It is far from here, and it is taking more time then he anticipated.»

«I vibrate to that. There is another question, but I do not wish to embarrass you.»

«You can always ask, Matriarch. I may reserve the right not to answer, or tell you to wait for an answer until such time the Patriarch of Patriarchs decides to answer,»

«I understand. What was the justice you mentioned some time back that halted the transfer of my eggs for a day?»

«Oh that. It resolved itself a few days ago. The matter of justice was that a usurper exterminated one of our vassal's family, all except for the one we rescued. He asked us to render justice in the name of his kingdom and his family. We obliged. However he called for a harsher punishment then we expected, and it was granted. It concluded recently when the reprobate committed an error and killed himself.»

«I still have to meet the one you called the Patriarch of Patriarchs.»

«That is true. It should occur shortly. He has been busy trying to keep this kingdom running and focussed. Luckily for him, his numerous sons, and now daughters, have taken an active role in maintaining things together.»

«That is acceptable.»

«One question has been bothering us, Matriarch.»

«Since you have been so open with mine, I would have bad grace not to try answering yours. What are they?»

«First, how do your little ones leave a planet once they have reached maturity?»

«Their shell accumulates a special crystal, that lets them get ejected once they have reached maturity.»

«I understand. I think I know what kind of material this means. I will have to verify with the Lord of Mages. Second question, how do you navigate space once you reach it?»

«We feel the texture of space and travel on its waves.»

«There, I'll have to talk to Paschal; he knows this better, or maybe Samson. He has an innate sense of the vastness of space. Maybe he is like you.»

«Is that all?»

«No. Would you like to see the electro-magnetic spectrum?»

«I do not see the gain? I already detect heat, and that is more then enough.»

«The last question should be asked by the Patriarch of Patriarchs, but I want you to think over your answer before he does ask it. Would you consider becoming Atlanteans? I know this comes as a shock to you, but think about it. I will come back to you on this question. It may be possible to infuse you with the ability to manipulate energy in its raw form by simple thought, like we do. If I can, I see no reason why you or your descendents could not.»

«I will think on it. Is that why you offered to let me gain access to a wider range of electromagnetic energy?»

«Yes.»

« I will consider both questions and await the visit of the Patriarch of Patriarchs.»

***

Other royals kept visiting the hospital to ease the integration of newcomers into the Atlantean society. As each got released from the long-term stasis chambers, they were brought into the fold, and met individually by one or another of the royals. The principle was to reactivate all members of a family together so they could live as a unit. That meant that children generally had to stay longer then necessary in the cryogenic chambers, while their parents underwent far longer psychiatric treatment for their long exposure to abuse, their lack of mental flexibility and their much deeper reprogramming. Nonetheless, there was a trickle of releases, and the royals made sure to be there for each.

The other requirement, after mental fitness was assured, was common language. It had become apparent that language had drifted apart as communications became more difficult after the Cataclysm of the Atom God. Atlantean had been selected, since this was the basis of all languages anyway, and it also was unknown to most people. No one could claim to be a native speaker of the language, not even the Royals.

The concept of an Atom God was replaced by a functional knowledge of atomic power, its uses and misuses. The Royals insisted that religion be studied for what it was: a knowledge base gone past its usefulness because it was dead science. Comparative religion studies were mandatory, and the reason behind religion fully explained: a need to understand how the world worked based on correlations rather then causalities. The Royals made it clear that they were no Gods even if they had powers vastly superior to the others magic-wise.

Given the variety of sentient species under the Atlantean umbrella, another issue needed to b addressed: racism and discrimination. Again, the Royals made it clear that being different did not mean being inferior; that each species had evolved or had been genetically engineered, but that they all had reached their current state relative to each other at the same time, therefore none was more evolved then the other, but had evolved differently due to differentiating pressures.

Deep below Thebes, the general population rescued from the United Kingdoms of Americus was slowly being sorted out. Already, several rooms had been cleared of their human contents, including those that had co-habited with Banjo and Cello. As the genetic patterns were extracted and matched, parents recovered their children, grandparents met their grandchildren for the first time, and family trees were being rebuilt from scrap. The abominable work done by the Diviners was slowly undone.

***

Timor the Troll was kept busy. He had been charged with insuring the security under Thebes, and the number of incidents was climbing as the people rescued and still to be released were getting anxious and restless. The group he led were a combination Trolls, Elves, Dwarfs, Wolves and Legionnaires. The most feared were the Trolls with the Wolves close second. However hard he tried to explain to those still held down that things would improve, some just could not fathom the hard work being done behind closed doors to reunite them with their family. Sometime, not even broken arms could bring a group under control, and the Wolves snapping at them barely registered with some who were too far-gone to care.

After another day trying to extinguish fires, Timor walked into the Royal suite, and sat down heavily on a chair that almost split under his weight.

"What's troubling you Timor?" asked Queen Annabelle.

"I don't know how long we can hold the basements of Thebes. The pressure down there is rising every day. People want to get out, do something. Yet we aren't ready to let them out."

"What is the release rate?" asked Samson.

"We release ten thousand a day. We have been releasing that much since the end of the last war. Paschal is adding buildings top-side every day, but he can't spend all his time doing that."

"How many got released so far?" asked a concerned Diamondcutter.

"It's been two months since we began to release them, so I'd say about six hundred thousand, or roughly seventeen percent of the original population rescued. Some will be in there next year still."

"Some he says. If your numbers are right, Timor, we should be done slightly before the next year, assuming we have no more issues."

"My lord, you assume there are no new births. Unfortunately, this is not the case."

"I see," replied Harold, as he realized that living under Atlanteans meant that mothers had access to pre-natal care, genetic re-sequencing of their progeny, and a whole paraphernalia of medical treatments.

"Just to put things in perspective, the still-births rate was one hundred and twenty per thousand births; it is now nil. The number of spontaneous abortions was three hundred per thousand conceptions. Now things have improved, with only one abortion per thousand conceptions. I got the numbers from Francesca this morning, before going on my shift. And the number of multiple births is on the rise, clearly confirming Lord Harp's notion that tessaracts favour multiple births. Let us not forget that Thebes is a flat tessaract, and it shows."

"You did your homework Timor."

"I can't help it, Harold. I watch the others, and I see them almost work eighteen hours a day. When I don't work, I feel like I'm cheating the Kingdom."

Just then, Typhoon the Dragon king, walked in the room.

"Who wants to raid the kitchen? I just finished with the Seraphrims' last batch, and I'm feeling hungry. The weather was horrible all the way from their old nest to Thebes and the containers were severely shaken. Fortunately, the Elves packed things real well. Where is Enron? I want to thank him for the fine work they have done. I met Thorsten on my way here, he had to rush to the laboratory for something."

"Are you turning into a cookie monster?" asked Alexander as he stopped playing Cavalryman and Orc, where he was riding his wolf while a nice mechanical imitation of an orc was the target, an advanced magical toy produced by Harp.

"No, Alexander, I want real food: a few tons of bloody meat. So, little one, when are you going to find a dragon to get bonded to?"

"When is the next clutch due?" asked Annabelle.

"We have thirty-two females now nesting, with an average of two-hundred and fifty eggs each. I'll have to ask the Queen Mother when the next batch is due. If we are lucky, she may be the next one to see her clutch come to fruition. Mother needs to rest. She has been keeping the Dragons alive for way too long."

"I know. However, I think your mother would feel useless if she was not keeping herself on the nest. Has Enron's scribe been up to the task I've assigned him?"

"If you are talking about recording genetic patterns to prevent close cross-breeding, he just moved his stuff into the Genome Management Centre, where all births and deaths are recorded along with genetic trees. That place is getting huge. I wonder if I shouldn't talk to Paschal about an idea I had to help them come to grips with the huge volume of data."

"Ah, so this is the name that collection of pen-pushers has given themselves!"

"If you are talking about the disorganized bunch of idiots that picked a fight with Paschal, yes that is that collection. One of them even dared try to charge me for some information. I had a nice lunch of roasted nuts, still tied to the guy, before sending him for repair at the General Hospital. I doubt they will ever consider charging anything to anyone ever again!"

"Some people will always be greedy, even if everything is free and they have no reason to need more then what they have," Harold said laconically.

"Where they tasteful?"

"What?"

"His balls, Typhoon?" asked Annabelle.

"Not really. He was too old and they had dried up. Maybe I should have bypassed the roasting. Harp once made me share a memory of one of his previous incarnations. The guy had just about the same taste. Harp had called it the 'holy arse taste' the one preachers of old had to the poor children they forced themselves upon."

"I thought we were going to the kitchen?" said Alexander as his stomach grumbled and the wolf bitch's stomach did the same in sympathy.

"Sure, Alexander. Just a few more items to cover before I forget."

Alexander pouted, but kept quiet.

"The Matriarch of the Seraphrims would like to hear you, my lord. She understands you are very busy, and that it may not be soon, but she expressed interest nonetheless."

"I understand. Have you considered bringing her here?"

"I have thought so, but she is as protective of her eggs as us Dragons, my lord. I do not think the first meeting should be held under distress for one party."

"It seems you are getting to be a nice diplomat, Typhoon. I am so proud to count you as one of my sons. Did you visit your dad lately?"

"I have not been in the Dragons' tessaract since we began moving the eggs. Now that this is done, I will visit him. I wonder what I will see."

"From what Harp explained to me, there will not be much change. Your species takes a long time to heal."

"I know. Anyway, I need a hot lava bath, and the lava pool so obligingly supplied by Harp is calling to me loud and clear after the cold of the last month and a half. It will feel great on my skin. I wonder if the Seraphim Matriarch would like one too, near her nest? I'll have to ask."

"We should have thought to offer, Typhoon."

Just as the king was going to continue, another large gurgle was heard from Alexander, making everyone laugh.

"I get it! Let's get going to the kitchen. Do you want to scare the cook?"

"If he tries to stop me from eating, I'll do more then that!" said Alexander with a flash of power in his eyes.

"Get that temper under control, little one. If we start roasting everyone that crosses our temper, we will have no kingdom left to run on short notice!"

"All right, big brother. But you have a lot to learn about temper control. I don't go around eating freshly overcooked meat balls!"

Alexander did not even have the pleasure of cooking the cook: the moment the boys walked in the kitchen, the fat man ran out the back door, dropping everything he was doing.

"Harp and Ian overdid him last time!" complained Alexander. "Now I can't even have some fun!"

"What can we offer?" asked a kitchen boy to the princes and king.

"For me, a slice or two of beef, for Alexander, a box of cookies and milk."

"That's coming right up! What type of cookies? We have chocolate chips, peanut butter, molasses, raisin, banana, marshmallow, and Aunt Olga's Fish and Shrimp ™. That's a magical import done by Ian for the kittens from a place he called the CSU¹¹ ("CSU: Clan Short Universe."). He never told us where that was."

"Peanut butter! Peanut butter!" exclaimed Alexander, a fan of the brownish, sticky stuff.

***

Ian's group progressed slowly up the Amazon, and they engaged along one of the main affluents on the right shore, the Rio Negro. Manaus, once a major city of the Amazon, was now totally devoured by the jungle. Nothing was left of its old splendour, not even a rusting nail.

The boys met quite a few new tribes, most of them hostile. Ian began resorting to some rather radical short cuts. The trick was simple. Walk in on the tribe's land and watch their behaviours toward five kids. If they attacked, those that did it were dispatched summarily, and then the convocation was stated forcefully. The next step was reading the minds of the leadership to establish the tribes known to the one being visited, and then go from there to find the others. Once a week, three days and a half were spent to transport the collected tribes to Thebes.

"When will we begin moving entire ecosystems?" asked Raja, the Dragon.

"I do not want to disturb the ecosystem yet. There are still too many humans and orcs to collect to do this right now. Once we are done with this phase, I'll see what Harp has in mind for the region. Harp told me these tessaracts offer more space then the entire planet, but we need to know where to send the ecosystems and how to do it," replied Ian.

"I never knew there were so many languages!" exclaimed Xianathan.

"Yes, I'm surprised. However many seem to have a common root. That helps. But I'm getting a headache with all these languages."

"Anyway, let's get back to work. It will be a week before we reach the source of the Rio Negro and I'm not counting all the streams that feed it," said Edwin.

"And I've had it with insects!" added Hildegard. "Luckily we are wrapped in a magic field or I would go nuts! Just listen to the sizzling as they try to penetrate the field! We sound like frying pans on foot!"

"We are not done yet, by far. We have not covered a quarter of the land. Luckily for us, the lower lands seem to be less densely populated then the base of the mountains we visit as we reach the sources."

"True, Ian. What worries me is that the streams become almost impossible to navigate as we move closer to their source. It may not bother us much, given we can lift the pirogue by magic, but I'd like to see the face of the natives, seeing that thing fly over rapids or a fall!" Edwin replied.

"Talking about rapids, I hear some coming up," Raja said. "I better fly off and see what's coming."

The dragon boy jumped up, converted to a nice gold and green parrot and flew up-river.

«Be careful, Raja! Gold feathers are unknown! You might end up in a headdress!»

«Let them try, Hildegard!» replied the dragon. «I have my force field at full power, more then enough to give them the surprise of their life!»

Half an hour later, Raja informed them of the upcoming issues.

«Ok, it's a series of rather impressive falls. The big problem is the presence of a village at both the top and bottom of the cascades. There is a running battle between two groups. We will be walking in on a fight.»

"That's my kind of fun!" said Hildegard.

"Let's wait until we reach the last meander to decide how to act," replied Ian.

«You will be entering a narrow strip of water just before the last curve. It's calm but exceedingly speedy. I see a narrow path along the left shore, but on the other side it is impractical, the cliff face falls directly into the river."

«Do you see any boats?» asked Edwin, the Elf.

«I saw some under a tree, well hidden except from above, just before the footpath. The footpath seems to be artfully disguised. It is next to impossible to detect from the river. In fact, I think you need to actually go under the tree's root system to reach its beginning.»

The boys continued their progression up the river, and suddenly they saw Raja, sitting quietly on a high branch above them.

"What are you doing there?"

"I decided you might need a guide to get the canoe under the tree's roots."

"Good idea."

The trimaran pirogue couldn't be brought under the tree so it was simply tied to a protruding root. The boys flew up to join Raja and then began walking along the narrow path.

"Everyone's individual shields are up?"

"Yes, Hildegard."

"Convert to dragon boy shape as well. I don't trust this path one bit. Our rock skin scales might be useful."

Everyone followed Hildegard's recommendations, not a minute too soon. As they walked along a particularly narrow passage, a net suddenly was pulled violently by a tree, which had been bent out of shape, raising them above ground. A group of men came out of the forest on the side farthest from the river.

«What now?» asked Xianathan.

«We wait. We are safe. We only need change the frequency of the force field to burn that hemp net. I think they will be in for a surprise when they try to hurt us," replied Hildegard. "Let the fun begin!"

The warriors began by trying to take the boys' weapons, but they couldn't reach them. The hemp net held the boys, but none of the men had noticed it did not even touch them anywhere. After repeated failures, they tried to poke the boys with their lances, and that too proved to be futile. In fact, the boys kept laughing ever harder.

«It tickles so much! Tell them to stop or I'll pee!» said Edwin.

«Go ahead! They will even be more shocked then they are now!» replied Ian, as he let go a powerful stream in the face of one of the closest assailants. The man backed out of the way, furious at the ultimate insult! He took out his bow and set an arrow, firing at point blank range on Ian. The arrow slipped on the force field, tickling Ian so much he laughed hysterically, and got lost up in the foliage. The other boys relieved themselves as well, adding to the mayhem.

Realising that their weapons were ineffective, the group split; five stayed to keep guard while the others moved into the forest. Half an hour later, they came back with strange plants they piled up under the hemp net.

«I wonder what they are trying to do?» asked Raja. «Don't you have an idea?»

«You know me. I like surprises. I didn't bother reading their mind. If things turn too rough, we shift shape to full dragon. I doubt this net would support that kind of stress.»

Just then, the men set the pile of leaves on fire. It became a lot warmer for the boys, but that didn't bother them one bit. What did bother them was the smoke coming from the burning pile of greenery.

«I think they are trying to put us to sleep. They must have realized we needed to breath. The party's over!» said Raja as he took his full green Dragon form, effectively crashing the net and snapping the tree that had held the trap up. The boys understood immediately the risk and, after shredding the net to get out of it, they too converted to Dragon form. The sudden appearance of five big, no, giant dragons over their head had the expected effect: panic set in and the men dispersed in all direction, trying to find a place to hide.

Ian torched to a crisp the pile of intoxicating leaves; meanwhile the others made sure there was not an inch of green left to hide under by tearing trees limb from limb and pitching them far and wide. The twenty men found themselves without cover pretty rapidly. Once the task was done and the area was cleared, the boys returned to their disguise.

Ian stood in the middle of the narrow path and hollered:

"Get your sorry arses here before we decide to eat you alive! We are in no mood to play hide and seek!"

"You learned their language fast. How about a transfer?" Hildegard asked.

"Sure."

The warriors emerged from just about any hole that could be found, shaking violently on their legs, and mostly disarmed, having lost their weapons in their wild run for safety.

"Get walking down the path. There better not be any more surprises if you want to keep your bits tied together!" said Xianathan, having picked up the language from Ian.

The path proved to be filled with booby traps. Some were simple vines holding a tree trunk; others were elaborate hemp nets; others required walking on a narrow beam so as not to fall into holes whose bottom proved to be covered with very sharp and poisonous stakes. One even required walking on a slippery and partially rotten tree branch because the hole crossed the entire trail and could not be walked around.

"Good thing we got these involuntary guides."

"I don't trust them more then necessary Xianathan. We better stay on our guard," replied Edwin.

"I agree. Raja, you flew over the course. Where are we?" asked Ian.

"We are still a mile off the exit. The trail will turn inside the forest for a while before coming back to the river. If they plan to set a trap, it would be there. They would be able to attack on both sides."

"It might even be where they plan to make a run for it. They could cut across the loop and alarm the village while we would be forced to navigate the gauntlet," added Hildegard. "I suggest we convert to bird the moment they run and follow them under the trees. I want to see their faces when they find us in front of them on the other side of the loop!"

"That will be funny. I approve the plan!" said Ian. "What kind of bird?"

"I see a lot of parrots above us. We would be next to invisible in the flocks overhead."

"I agree, Raja, but try to stay with the reds, greens and blues of the natural parrots. Gold-feathered parrots would stand out!"

About half an hour later, just as the trail curved inland, the men took off on a run cross the forest. The boys immediately converted to parrots and followed their progress from the canopy. The men figured they had managed to lose the boys in the forest and quietly made their way along a trail of logs that let them walk the ground without leaving any mark. As they emerged from the forest, breathless, to return to the trail, they came running into the five boys, calmly waiting for them, and busy drinking water.

"Where were you? We have been waiting for you so we could collect the life tax!" said Ian in a sweet voice, while pulling out a sword twice his size from behind a tree trunk. "We had warned you not to cheat us!"

"Why didn't you tell us you were the Spirits of the Forest? Only ghosts could have passed there without us detecting them!"

"You tried to kill us; you saw us change shape to the Fathers of the Earth; you do not even trust your own eyes, why would you have trusted your ears any better?"

"Give us a last chance, we will not betray you again!" said the spokesman.

"As if we would trust you one bit!"

A quick hand movement created an impenetrable magic wall around the men. Their loin clothes vanished in the same move, as hidden knives fell on the ground.

"See what I mean? You had no apparent weapons on you, now you really have none. Get walking! See that bright line around you? It is a wall of fire. Try to run through it and it will burn you. Do not worry, nothing can go in or out."

The group progressed toward the lower village and approached it silently. The villagers were all focussed on watching the battle that was ongoing on the cliff face and had their back turned away from the procession walking in the village.

"I think it's time we put an end to the fun?" asked Raja as he eyed the men fighting.

"Yes, but how?"

"Just watch me!"

Raja converted to his dragon form and climbed in a spiralling candle at match 3, shattering the battle as enemies of a minute ago clung for dear life at each other as boulders rolled off the cliff, rebounding on the valley floor below before rolling on it to a stop.

The other mages had immediately understood Raja's intentions: two took to protecting the men on the cliff face while two took to creating a shield around the village enclosure closest to the rock face. As the noise died down, Raja roared.

"I want both villages down in the valley, men, women, children and prisoners included! Disobey and die!" was heard by everyone, as Raja used magic to simulate the wave pattern of speech.

"Raja is getting pretty good with magic!" said Ian, impressed.

The command was so imperative that the combatants disengaged and moved to their respective village. Shortly, a procession of men, women, and children began the long trek down the cliff face, preceded and followed by dogs. Amongst the long line were prisoners, who seemed to literally crawl along. That infuriated Raja.

"Carry the prisoners down with all the care possible!" he ordered from above. "If I see a single one mishandled, you will feel the wrath of Raja!"

The result was almost instantaneous. The soldiers paired up to carry in a firemen's chair the most wounded; women helped others walk and children tried their best as well. No one wanted to provoke this god.

As those from the lower village finally emerged from the forest to reach the entrance to their village, they spotted the four boys sitting casually on a log. Their presence shocked them less then their looks. All boys had taken the dragon boy look: Ian was gold; Edwin and Hildegard were red; and Xianathan was green. Their only common features were the scaly appearance of their skin and the ruby-red multifaceted eyes typical of dragons.

"Get to the Council Tree on the double! And do not think you can overpower us! Your guards at the trail's entrance learned otherwise!" said Ian in a very cold voice. "Make sure all prisoners are free, and collect everyone, including prisoners, under the tree. No discussion shall be tolerated! We are waiting on the arrival of our esteemed colleague, which is herding the Upper Village right now."

The men looked up and could see the procession of people painstakingly making their way down the narrow path. However, the presence of the flying God above them blocked any idea of disobedience.

Half an hour later, the first members of the Upper Village walked shakily into the Lower Village, followed by more and more villagers. Ian kept directing them to the clearing at the base of the huge gum tree, and reminding them that under no circumstances should there be a fight. Xianathan had moved into the central plaza with Edwin, and they set up a temporary dispensary to cure by magic those that needed immediate assistance. Hildegard patrolled the village with his axe, making it very clear that any incident would shorten the stature and the life of those involved. Unknown to the villagers, their dogs were feeding information about the situation in the village.

It took an hour to get every member of the Upper village to the plaza, but finally, Raja descended on the outskirt of the Lower Village and converted to his green dragon boy form. As he joined Ian at the village entrance, he sealed the village behind a magic wall.

"You did good, Raja. Do you wish to continue?"

"No, my lord, I believe this calls for your intervention. I have done my part."

"That's fine by me."

As the two boys made their way toward the now very crowded village centre, Ian asked Hildegard to make sure everyone was present.

«I am completing my rounds. I had to deliver a baby that was coming from the backseat. It was close, the mother and baby were almost dead when I intervened. I ported both to Thebes immediately after the delivery. I had to put my foot down with the midwife. Apparently that was a women's job and I had no right to be in the birthing hut. I told her in no uncertain terms that when a God walked in, social mores walked out. Anyway, I explained to the midwife what the problem was, and I ported the baby out of the womb, before cutting the umbilical cord. I used an electroshock to resuscitate the baby because its heart had stopped beating. If proof needed be made of my godhood, calling back a dead baby to life nailed it. I had another argument with the midwife when I ported the mother with the baby to Thebes. I told her both needed more in-depth care, and would be well treated were I had sent them. I think she believes I killed them both. How stupid can these people be? I told her if I had wanted to kill the baby, I wouldn't have bothered walking into the hut in the first place. I don't think I reached her. I'm feeling frustrated.»

«I understand that. Make sure the midwife and anyone else is in the plaza.»

«I made sure of that. I kicked her and her apprentice out of the hut and dissolved the hut to its atomic components right in front of them, telling them that this place was so dirty it was a miracle not all mothers died of septicaemia. I don't think she understood the reference, but I was beyond caring by then. Being a god is a pain in the butt.»

After a hearty laugh, Ian and Raja continued to walk slowly toward the plaza. As each row of hut was passed, the magic wall pushed everything from rats to humans toward the centre. Rats were unceremoniously ported to Thebes for breeding to produce feedstuff for the Ark Project. Dogs instinctively kept clear of the advancing magic wall, while pigs complained loudly as the wall repeatedly stung them.

Once the boys had reached the plaza, Hildegard joined them. A quick call to Edwin and Xianathan verified they were free. The two had been really busy healing prisoners and warriors alike, and taking care of children. The boys popped silently behind the two green dragons, while Ian was in front. Reading the mind of the populace, Ian decided to make their status very visual: He literally covered himself with gold, while covering the red dragons with rubies and the green dragons with emerald.

"Let these jerks snub us!" he said to them.

The rain had finally stopped, and narrow beams of sunlight shone down like fingers making each boy glisten almost blindingly. They walked very slowly as music played loud and clear from all directions. As the boys walked toward the Council Tree, the populace opened like the Red Sea to Moses. As the boys reached the Council seats, they noticed that half of the members were standing while the other half were sitting on roughly cut stumps. Ian immediately understood the reason for the dichotomy and with a cursory glance, dissolved the seats, sending the pretentious leaders of the Lower Village on their arses.

"Everyone is equal in our eyes, wherever you come from. Since you did not have the decency to offer seats to the eldest amongst the Elders, none of you will sit in our presence!" he said sharply.

Furious and humiliated, the Lower Village Elders grumbled, but a very sharp "Did I hear any threats?" from Ian brought them to silence.

Ian materialized a massive gold throne, and on each side, complementary ruby and emerald thrones for his friends. After sitting down on them, he looked at the assembly.

"We are here to convene a meeting of tribes. We know that the Upper Village and Lower Village tribes have been at war since time immemorial, but it stops now. You are to send runners to all other villages of your respective tribe and order them to meet on the Head of the Sleeping Dragon, seven days from now. Both tribes know where that is, both tribes know it is sacred land. All prisoners from both tribes are to be returned to their respective tribes without exception. Be there or forfeit your life! Furthermore, no more rituals of whatever type, origin or sort shall be performed. We need not your puny offerings. We need not the life of your virgins, nor the life of your animals, nor your riches. Here is the Mark of the Dragon. As you designate your runner, he or she is to pick one of these markers. They are to deliver the marker to the village chief, who will be burned with our mark as he receives the message of the Gods. As we know there are risks involved in delivering these markers, we will ensure the runners' safety for as long as he or she is doing what we ask. To speed the convocation of the tribes, the prisoners of other tribes we have not visited will be burdened with a similar task relative to their own tribe. We have been doing this convocation of the Gods for long enough, it is time it went a bit faster."

Ian kept quiet as he scanned the minds of both villages and the prisoners. A rapid sum gave him five hundred and fifty-two villages, for a total of twenty-seven thousand and six hundred souls.

"Let the prisoners pick their tokens first, since they will be running the furthest."

After twenty minutes, the prisoners ran off carrying their tokens in extremely tough backpacks; the other tokens were distributed amongst the designated runners and they were sent off.

"Remember, both tribes must be at the Head of the Sleeping Dragon, men, women and children, dogs, pets, domestic animals. Do not miss that meeting under any consideration."

With that the five boys disappeared to port right back to their canoe, giving a further proof of their divinity if the Elders needed one. The boys left the precious stone seats behind as a reminder that this was not a dream.