The Prophesy: Book 4 - Armageddon

 

"Hey, Paschal, I see you run around like mad, we never have time to talk. What's up?"

"Hi Dad! My blood pressure, that's what. It is true we are really rushed. I did some studies, and we scanned the future. We have five month to finish everything. After that, it is getting out of here or else. And the Goblins are being ported to Thebes in a sterile wing of the General Hospital at four times the initial planned rate. We need some slack time between the end of their transfer and the Event, Dad, and we were cutting it too close for comfort. I have mobilised every single Mage to that task, and we are now porting four million Goblins a month. It runs twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, no breaks."

"How long to move every Goblin?"

"Three months, Dad. Then it is the spaceship's memory core we move, a daylong task at most, and everything recoverable, another day. Then I put in a rupture trigger for the antimatter core of their spaceship. It still is massive enough to blow the planet out of orbit, and I plan to use it if I can."

"What happens to the sick Goblins?"

"If you are talking about those that had smallpox, that issue is solved. They are now in quarantine in sterile stasis chambers, like every other Goblin except Rockhook. Dad, I think Rockhook is the species we were wondering about in the Room of Recognition."

"You may be right. Where is he now?"

"Aboard his spaceship, monitoring the displacement of the Goblins. He seems to be getting used to how fast things are going, and he has becomed quite friendly with Viola and Timor. The presence of the Fairy Princess also seems to leave him speechless, especially since Iridia seems to have elected to throne on Timor's shoulders. You know, they seem like two lovers."

"Talk about opposites attracting each other!"

"I am sure they exchange roles once in a while, Iridia becoming a female Troll while Timor becomes a male Fairy. I wouldn't put it beyond the two to play each other like this, and I expect either one to bear Child at some point, Dad. It is only a question of time."

"That is going to be interesting!"

"Yes, I can just imagine Timor showing off his tiny Son to everyone, while he towers above everyone and each one glosses over how he looks like his Dad or she looks like the Mother!"

"That's the pleasure of shape shifting, Paschal."

"I know, I have already seeded my oats with just about every Atlantean species, and so has Ian, even if he is only six and a half in Atlantean standard form. He sure looks cute when he decides to take on that ravaging teen in heat look for one of the girls! In fact he is a heartthrob for every species so far. The golden Fox look is stunning, and the white Wolf one is to die for. I am not going to mention his look as a Dragon, Dad. He puts to shame King Typhoon, and that says a lot. Have you done this yet?"

"No, I have not. I leave the consolidation of our bonding to you guys. You seem to be quite apt at it."

"I wonder if Mom has?"

"I can say for certain she has not. After all she has not borne any Child except Ian and Alexander."

"Dad, you think narrowly. She is shape shifter, and can change gender at will, like any of us."

"I had not thought of that. You will have to ask her."

Just as Paschal was leaving the room, Harold asked another question.

"How's Thebes' completion progressing?

"It is finished. The Elves are doing the last checks, but the monitoring system reports everything is functional. We only occupy about one percent of the total space, even with all the tessaracts and free-roaming members of the Atlantean society. As soon as they report all verified I am going to the Cave. There is a segment that has yet to be activated. Dad, be ready to move in the Pharaoh's suite shortly."

"I am not ready, Son, I feel disconnected from the people when I go there. It is too far removed from the people."

"I am not saying you need to live there. We need you to activate some stuff. I think some of these things that are ticking my mind are related to voice commands only the rightful King of Atlantis can access and activate."

***

Two months passed in frenzy. One day, Paschal made his way to the Cave and looked at the huge map of Thebes. How strange it looked, with all these nooks and crannies, these long lines of power that seemed to wait for something to happen so that they too became active. What was his memory trying to tell him? And then there was that table, in the middle. It stood there, empty, and somehow, he knew it was not a table, but something else, something that needed to be left free of any obstacle, and contents. And what was that deck of controls that still was dark, even after everything was lighted up? There was a hieroglyph, meaning, he now knew, bridge. Bridge? Bridge where? He needed to talk to his Brothers, maybe one of them would flash on this term. Frustrated, he used the portal system to move to his laboratory and called up a small family reunion, a sort of telepathic conference.

«You feel frustrated?» asked Ian, as he was working with the Mages to speed up even more the porting of the Goblins.

«Yes! I have a last control panel that refuses to light up, and I cannot figure out what it is!»

«Do you have any indication of what it is supposed to do?» asked Sitar.

«No. All it says is 'Bridge' in hieroglyph.»

«The bridge is a crossing » said Viola.

«But it is also a control room, where the Captain of a ship stands to control his ship,» added Banjo.

«And a bridge is a connector for a power line, a sort of very big interrupter. I saw that while reading on power circuits.»

«I think Cello is up to something. Remember where you are, Paschal.»

«I am in my laboratory, that's where!»

«No, I am talking about the Cave. Apart from the Cave, and Kantar, what else struck us?»

«The Rainbow Bridge was beautiful. But it is no longer under a rainbow, and that is sad.»

«Yes the Rainbow Bridge. What if the bridge in question was the Rainbow Bridge? I had it rotate when we left Kantar, but I did not reverse its position when it was moved to Thebes. The Bridge is still open »

«Like a giant interrupter!» exclaimed Cello.

«You know the key to rotating the Bridge, Harp. Get there immediately!»

«Bossy today, big Brother?»

«No, frustrated!»

Ten minutes later Harp was in the control room below the Bridge and Paschal was under the Kantar section of Thebes.

«I am ready when you are, Harp!»

Figure 5: Map of Thebes

Harp held his hands on the control crystals and gave the order for the bridge to rotate. High above his head the giant structure began its motion. As each end came ever closer, everyone in Thebes held his or her breath.

The contact was made, and suddenly the dark cocoon that had protected the Bridge's surface melted, vaporised away, bringing forth a new look to the dark and foreboding structure. It now not only shone, but showed continuous trains of colours truly making true the name Rainbow Bridge. As the energy coursed through the now closed circuit, Pyramid after Pyramid began to shine in its respective colour and the entire giant megalopolis was covered with a powerful dome of energy.

«The control panel is lit up!» said Paschal. «I am reading the information that was hidden behind all these darkened control crystals. Hey, what the Hell is that?»

«Trouble?»

«No, I do not think so; it looks more like the map of Thebes that was on the table that occupies the centre of the Cave changed from dull brown and black lines to a much more dynamic image. Let us see what this 'Main Power Grid' thing does! Wow!»

«What happened?» wondered Harp as he left the Bridge control room, sealing it back.

«When I activated the grid, the black lines on the map of Thebes turned yellow and then green. There is a control that says 'Myriahedral Projection' »

«Paschal, what's up?»

«Guys, come to the Cave. I am too surprised to explain.»

A few seconds later, everyone in the Royal family was present and looked at what had so surprised Paschal.

"What is that?" asked Violin, as she eyed the strange object.

"A holographic projection. No, it is not real; it is an illusion. I tested its consistency and I can pass my hand through it," replied Paschal, joining the gesture to the words. Everyone tested for himself or herself the reality of Paschal's observations.

"I do not see how this relates to Thebes?" asked Harold.

"I do not know, but this sphere is a beauty. Did you test that control?" said Sitar as he pointed to one that said 'Animation'.

"Not yet. Let us do it."

Pressing on the control crystal brought up two rolling balls and a ruler labelled 'Folding'. Paschal first rolled one of the balls under his hand, and the hologram rotated on the Z-axis and slowly presented what might be called a polar projection. Then, applying a lateral movement to the same roll-ball, the sphere rotated on the X-axis. The other roll-ball rotated the sphere on the X axis and Y-axis. They could view the sphere in any combination of rotary motion around its centre. The more a ball rotated, the faster the projection rotated on the respective axis.

"And what about that ruler?" Yamato asked.

"Let me stop these rotations. I am getting dizzy!"

Paschal gradually stopped the rotation, and the projection stabilised. He then grabbed the graduating ruler and watched as the sphere gradually split open and flattened itself slightly above the table. It looked strange and yet fascinating.

"Paschal, use the balls again and let us see what happens."

"Ok, Dad."

As Paschal manipulated the balls, the flat surface rotated, tilted and otherwise changed position. Paschal gradually managed to superimpose the flat map and the suspended map.

"This is remarkable, Paschal. We have always wondered why Thebes was built the way it was, and why we had this compulsion to stay within its bounds. Now we know! It is designed to fold! It is a giant three-dimensional origami!" exclaimed Yamato, fascinated.

"And the power lines are also the braces for the sphere," added Williams.

"There is more. The same lines also mark the bulkheads that keep each segment of Thebes autonomous and prevent a catastrophic collapse or the propagation of toxic gases," added Enron.

"Or general decompression!" said Ian, remembering his stay aboard the alien spaceship.

"There is one thing that bugs me, boys."

"What is it, Mom?"

"The size of Thebes, however big it is, cannot reasonably keep an atmosphere on its surface unless we spend a considerable amount of energy folding space to create an artificial gravitational well."

"That is true, Mom. However, notice that nothing stops the sheet that represents Thebes from folding in such a way that what is now the surface is in fact inside the sphere. It would even make sense. We know that the inside of Thebes seems to be much bigger then its apparent surface. Just ask the cleanup Crews. It may be so because once it is folded into a sphere, what is now below becomes the top and we live inside."

"I wonder how that will look from outside?" Dunbar asked.

"Spiky!" said Alexander.

"That is not a Dog!" replied Ian, laughing.

"No. Look spiky!" replied the toddler.

"Alexander is right. I remember the cleanup teams wondering why some areas became smaller as they progressed down," replied Paschal.

"Anyway, there is still a part of the control desk that is dark. I wonder what is hidden behind these unlit crystals," Yamato pointed out.

"Who knows? Dad, while I have you under Kantar, how about paying a visit to the Royal Suite and look around. It is now fully activated, and I think it is time we had a second look."

"Before we go there, what is this yellow flashing light? Is it not an alarm of some sort?" pointed out Samson.

"Let us see, this marks the segment where the Room of Recognition is located. Let me pinpoint it."

After a few minutes, the view changed and zoomed to the inside of the Room of Recognition. The back wall's background was now shining very brightly, contrary to its previous dull appearance. Only the figures in the vast mosaic were dull.

"I think it is time we call in every person on the wall to the meeting and recognition, Dad. We have everyone, including the last missing person."

"Paschal, you seem to forget that Francesca is in the freezer due to her last temper tantrum."

"What happened with her this time, boys?" asked Annabelle.

"She was stubborn, tired, almost dropped a very dangerous bio-sample of smallpox, and refused to rest when ordered to do so. She acted in such a way as to endanger everyone in Thebes. I sent her to cool down within a glacier in the Antarctic," explained Paschal. "I will not put up with another bout of temper from her, Dad. I will not risk the life of everyone to preen her ruffled feathers!"

"Do you think she cooled down?"

"Knowing her, I doubt it Dad. It took a virtual eternity in a psychiatric stasis chamber for the release sequence to engage," said Ian.

"It is hard to forget she almost killed Mom and Alexander because of her stubbornness. Then this happens," said Harp.

"I made it clear to her she would not get out of there until she resolved her issues with the stubborn power trip, and, I feel, a deep-rooted jealousy. She has no reason to be jealous, but how many people have reason to be in the first place?"

"Paschal, what makes you think she is jealous?" asked Amethyst.

"An obsessive compulsion about prerogatives, a feeling she has the right to be disrespectful of both her colleagues and us, and a total disregard for the opinion and expertise of others. As the Ancients said, a Doctor buries his mistakes; a God does not even bother to. And she acts like a Goddess: reckless and heartless, considering everyone else a mere Worm. I will not put up with that attitude, especially with someone that has magical powers."

"That sounds like Ruby and Opal," replied Amethyst. "Don't you fear she might be in the same situation?"

"No, I did a deep scan while she was in stasis, and she is just the way she is; she cannot lay the blame on a Soul-eater, Queen Mother of the Dwarves. If it had been a Soul-eater, it would have been easier to fix, even if she would have been an empty shell afterward. That is the problem with these parasites: they drink up everything, and only leave an empty husk when they are done."

"That does not resolve our problem, Paschal. What do we do with Francesca? We need her to activate the next step in the process and I do not know how she will feel, getting out of the icicle before she has adjusted her attitude."

"Dad, you seem to forget we are who we are. I will personally force her to act properly if it comes to this. I do not particularly like resorting to mind control, but extraordinary circumstances call for extraordinary measures. Then she can go to Hell for all I care. We almost lost Alexander due to her attitude problems, then the last bit. She better shape up, or she will be joining others that thought they could get away with this attitude of hers."

"Ian! Language!" said Annabelle.

"Mom, you sure need to listen to him dress down a Legate when he or she does not perform to the best of their ability! I think I saw a fir lose its needles in shame!" said Harp, blushing in retrospective memory.

"Anyway, when you bring her back, Paschal, I want to be at the meeting, Son."

"Well, do not go anywhere. We are going to check on this issue right away. Let us move to the Hall of recognition. Ian, do me a favour. Go pick Rockhook, we need him."

"Ok, Paschal."

Ian popped to the Goblin's spaceship and found Rockhook supervising the port to Thebes.

«Rockhook, are you happy with how things are progressing?»

«Yes Ian! I am surprised at how dedicated everyone is. Everyone is being very careful, and the stream is steady. I am impressed. Let us talk. I need to exercise my voice box and practice Atlantean.» The Goblin changed to vocal communications. "What brings you here?" His high-perched voice was unnerving, sounding so out of place on a wise old face; he sounded like a three-year old Child peeping.

"Do you trust Alaric enough to accompany me to Thebes for a short while? I will need Viola, Timor and Iridia as well; Alaric will therefore be the senior Atlantean here for a while."

For Rockhook, all Atlantean adults looked the same: big and hairy, and it was only after Ian identified who Alaric was that Rockhook understood he had been talking to him about security and planning when he thought he was dealing with Viola. The Legate, as he was now qualified, had seemed extremely knowledgeable and careful about everything so he decided he could go for a while to that place called Thebes.

"I agree that Alaric seems to be very trustworthy. He has been dealing with the night shift without fail. But who will deal with the day and evening shift? Viola dealt with the day shift, and Timor with the evening shift."

"Their second in command are as qualified as they are. We value depth of command, should one fail, there are usually five ready to take over the station."

"It is fine then. Why am I required in Thebes?"

"We are ready to complete the Ritual of Recognition, in the proper order, with all participants, so he can add another step to the completion of Thebes' activation."

"What does this Ritual of Recognition do?"

"For us, nothing more then bringing a heirloom. From what we figure out, your people do not have any such thing, so all you need is to be physically present. As for the impact, it can be of two order: one, it may definitely activate something big in Thebes, the nature of which we are totally unaware; for you, it may have no impact, or it may have considerable impact. For some of us, the Recognition did nothing; for others, they fainted. All depends on things we are unable to predict."

"Very well. I trust you know what you are doing. I will get ready to travel."

"You need not get anything. Thebes is mostly underground, and is warm except outside. You will not set foot out of the Labyrinth that links every part of Thebes, so you will not feel the bite of the current -25 °F that seems the warm fall weather in the area. It has been several years since the temperature has risen above freezing in the area, and it shows. The ice is almost to our doors. This winter will be particularly difficult. Our last overflight of the continent has shown the ice sheet is progressing and is now south of the 40°N parallel. We are, for a reason yet unknown, in a sort of grace area. It may be due to the mountains that encircle the Kingdom."

"Let us go then."

Ian took the Goblin's hand and brought him to the salon that had so impressed Colibri. Colibri was busy with Sven and Alexander, playing some sort of thee-dimensional checkers game and getting royally beaten after fifteen tries.

"Hey, Rockhook! How are you doing?" said Colibri when he spotted the Goblin.

"Good day, Colibri. I am fine. I am supposed to participate in a ritual of some sort."

"Can I watch?"

"It is not for me to say, Colibri."

"Sure, Colibri; bring Sven and Alexander with you. Where is Paschal?"

"He went to take Greywolf out of stasis; I hear he stopped by to pick up Ness, his bonded, Felicia, his Wife, and the six Pups. He said something like he hoped Greywolf would not have a heart attack. I wonder why? Harp went to get the Matriarch."

"Oh, because it has been somewhat over a year since he has been in stasis; all his Pups are now adults, and the runt of the litter is now the biggest Wolf of the pack, by a long shot, plus being bonded to a Dragon, having magical powers and all that. It is going to be one big surprise. Did he say anything else?"

"Yes, we are to meet him in the Room of Recognition. I think Harp will do the same with the Matriarch. He said he will bring Francesca there himself, once everyone is present. Can't she walk there on her own?"

"She could, had she been more careful of how she behaved."

"She got hurt?"

"No, Colibri, she put down her Liege Lords twice, and that is not something that can be easily forgotten, if it can be forgiven."

"I understand somewhat."

"The thing is, she faulted in her duty, twice, and I am not talking about small mistakes but big, monumental ones. Let it stand there, Colibri. She was given time to think things over, and she may still regain her position if she acts intelligently. It rests entirely on her shoulders and her behaviour."

"Oh."

"Let us get going. The stasis chamber holding Greywolf should be in the process of releasing its content, and I do not want to make Paschal wait."

"Ok. Come on Alexander, Sven, we have a walk to do."

"Use the portal, it will save you a lot of steps."

"I keep forgetting about that God-given tool. What is the place we are going?"

"The Room of Recognition. I will show you how to program it as your destination."

Ian explained to Colibri the process quickly and then asked him to give the order mentally. It worked perfectly and they materialised on the left portal of the Room of Recognition. A few minutes later Paschal appeared with Greywolf and his family, followed by Harp and the Matriarch.

"Almost everyone is here. The only missing person is Francesca. When do you plan to get her, Paschal?"

"Just before she is needed. Then she goes right into stasis and this time, it will need a manual override for her to get out of it. No more diagnostic by a machine. It is too risky with her."

"Ok, Son. Let me sit on the Throne, and relax. I think the order is very important this time, and something tells me I must be sitting on this contraption to access the data."

"Go ahead, Dad."

Harold climbed on the strange seat, and relaxed. Progressively, the light dimmed in the room, leaving only the mosaic on the far wall and the one on the floor lighted.

"Ok, here is the list, according to the Artificial Intelligences of Thebes. It seems they gained access to a certain hidden data set when we completed Thebes. The data set had been hashed into seven slices, and it was the combination of the Pyramids and the AI of Thebes that recombined their bits and pieces of data streams."

Taking a breath, Harold continued.

"Here is the list, in order. I am first; Annabelle is next; Ian, Alexander, Paschal, Sitar, Harp, Viola, Banjo, Cello, Violin, Piano, Samson, Enron, the Matriarch of the Seraphrims, Bjorn, Timor, Iridia, Yamato, Greywolf, Dunbar, Rockhook, Williams, Typhoon, Silver Moon, Diamondcutter, Amethyst, Thorsten, Sven, Francesca, Golden Horn, Jefferson, Black White-Wing, Nestor, Lance Master of the Centaurs and Colibri."

After sipping some water, Harold continued.

"This is a genetic code sequencing. Each of us will supply a tiny drop of blood. Each of you will put his or her heirloom and he or she is asked to put his right hand, or paw in the hole to give a tiny drop of blood. As each one is recognised, the lock will progress and the matching figure will finally get illuminated without the need for the key to stay in place. Just so you each have your own key, I would call to the Matriarch of the Seraphrims, Sven of the Dwarves and Rockhook of the Goblins to step forward and press their hand on the handprints matching your respective species. Rockhook, your fingers are slightly palmed; so I think it is the one on the right! Thorsten, help Sven with his. Matriarch, you need to use the floor footprint, near the wall."

Rockhook took his position, and placed his right hand on the slightly palmed intrusion. His vision blurred and then came back. A brown and almost invisible figure, holding a disk, lit up under the table. And out came a miniature representation of the Goblin's spaceship.

"I am being told I am Rabwhaar, and I have been fed information about my people long lost to us. I am supposed to be the Plutarque of the Goblins, which would translate into the King of my people. Your Archives must date from very far, my Lord, because it tells me it was your people that taught us space travel to escape the Enemy, and that Rabwhaar guided our escape to the stars under your tutelage. This is so strange. You intervened repeatedly to help us escape from their unrelenting pursuit. I feel overwhelmed, my Lord, may I sit down?"

"Please, Rockhook, Rabwhaar, Plutarque of the Goblins; please be welcomed in our midst. Your people will be a very welcomed part to our family of allies, should you choose so."

"I so choose. I have been impressed by your people's dedication and it would be ungraceful of our people to refuse not only our support but also the establishment of a stronger bond. Your Legates have instructed me on the intricacies of the structure of bonding. I humbly request to be Vassal to Atlantis and wish, if it so pleases your highest Majesty, that we be adopted into the family of Atlanteans."

Paschal brought out Mitsuko, and proceeded to the swearing-in of the Oath of Fealty from Rockhook. This done, Harold gave the traditional accolade to the diminutive Goblin, and then materialised the adoption Proclamation which was promptly signed and sealed with the Seal of Atlantis.

"As of now, Rockhook, you are a Son to me, and a Prince of Atlantis. You are as Atlantean as any of us."

After a serious amount of applause and congratulations from everyone present, it was the turn of Sven to get his little key, and nothing out of the ordinary showed up; he only got a small axe cut in a blue diamond with a gold chain to wear around the neck, and the figure of a boy playing with cubes under the table lit up. No names were forthcoming, probably because the figure in the Fresco did not speak yet. The Matriarch received her own key, a representation of her species made out of orichalque and gold, with two beautiful diamond eyes.

«I am the repository of the memory of my people. I have a name that cannot be said in any language but ours. Matriarch is good for our exchange. I see your people running interference with the Enemy common to all life. According to these memories, I am allowed to take any decision required and this will bind our people forever. I therefore request what the Goblin, as you name that strange species, has asked and gotten.»

«So be it. Paschal, proceed.»

After the swearing-in of the Matriarch of the Seraphim by Paschal, and the Proclamation of her formal adoption by the Pharaoh, things went back on track.

"Everyone has his little toy?" After a resounding yes, Paschal stood up and brought to the dais Francesca's heirloom.

"She tried to hide it, but she really is not very good at that game. Her signature was all over the space-time deformation that hid it, and it was a piece of cake to track the object in the ninth dimension, especially since it was the only object there in the first place. She never learned to hide things in plain sight. Had she just left it on her desk, I might have taken days to find it!"

"Her room is a mess?" asked Colibri.

"Yes, much like her mind. Disorder in the room reflects, up to a certain point, disorder in the mind. There is the opposite that is true: too much order in life means a brain held in too tight binds, unable to adapt to change. Both are marks of weakness. The first indicates disorder whilst the later points to excessive rigidity and inability to adapt to change. It is not rare for a person to present both types, as it swings from one extreme to the other and back."

"Will I be Atlantean one day?"

"You are Atlantean, Colibri. The moment Ian proclaimed you his Brother and Dad his long-lost Son and we took you under our wings, you became Atlantean from the tip of your big toe nail to the tip of your longest hair."

As Colibri watched he couldn't help but see the shining smiles and bright eyes everyone was sporting and the very frantic nods each and every one of his idols were doing. It finally clicked in his mind that the five Atlanteans had been calling him little Brother for months and meant it every time.

"Anyway, Colibri, do you have that tiny Bird I made for you?" said Ian.

"You mean this?" said Colibri as he extracted a Hummingbird hovering over a blue flower hanging around his neck that looked so real you were hearing the humming of the wings in your imagination if not in reality.

Diamondcutter, Amethyst and Thorsten all wept at the beauty of the piece, and petted the little Bird as if trying to decide whether it was alive or actually made in stone.

"It must be extremely fragile. I can see light travel through the gem that make the wings!"

"Amethyst, if it were not encased in a miniature stasis chamber by Magic, it would break. As it is, it may outlive us."

Everyone settled down and looked questioningly at Ian.

"Colibri, put the Bird and the flower in this complicated cavity. Insert the Bird tail first, and leave the head to stick out."

Colibri did as Ian asked, and a beautiful reddish-brown boy appeared beside Ian, sitting between his legs. The figure was so well hidden and integrated into the cloth that covered Ian and in the background it did not show until it was lit up by the key. Colibri took a deep breath, and decided to sit down on the floor before falling over. After a few minutes, Colibri looked up at Ian and asked what was an Ethologist.

"A specialist of animal behaviour in their natural setting. Is this what you are? It would fit you so well, little Brother. You could track us even if we were invisible just by the change in behaviour our presence induced in the animals. That would fit the richness of Ethology. Did you get a name?"

"No, you gave it to me so long ago. It called me Colibri from the start."

"So Colibri it is. Dad?"

"It is time we begin. I will recall Francesca as soon as Sven is done."

"All right, Paschal."

The Pharaoh of Atlantis inserted his key and supplied his gift of blood Magic, which lit up the central figure at the table. Then the sequence continued, as one after the other, the persons called upon by a Prophesy immemorial were brought together by events and set in motion changes that would forever modify the destiny of Life in the Universe. It took an hour and a half before it was time to get Francesca.

"Francesca's turn, Paschal. Do your stuff."

"All right. Ian, Harp, I will be busy porting her. Monitor her thought processes and if she shows any velleity to cause trouble, take control of her magical core and body."

"Fine! We are ready!" said the two boys in tandem.

"Not the twin routine! Spare us the twin routine!" said Annabelle, much to the amusement of the two little Devils.

Francesca appeared in the Room of Recognition, not even blue from cold, and looking murderously at Paschal.

"I brought you back on the instruction of Harold, Thor, Horus, Pharaoh of Atlantis. Have you given thought to the reason why you were sent into exile?" asked Paschal.

"Yes, you brat! I was sent there because I refused to bend to your childish diktats!"

Harold signalled for Paschal to keep quiet while he stood up. He then smashed his fist hard on his shield, using it as a powerful gong.

"You have learned nothing of either your long stay in stasis chamber or your short stay in an icicle on the southern continent, Francesca. You were sent there because you have been repeatedly taking the wrong decisions and putting those under your care at risk needlessly. You have been put in these places so you could deal with some of the most blatant issues you have: self-centred, jealousy, impulsivity, disrespect for your peers and your Lords, a feeling of inadequacy that has led you to take the path of confrontation rather then remedial courses in your chosen field. You are as childish now as you were before you discovered your Magic, and that is a recipe for disaster, both for us and for you. You believe, wrongly I might add, that you are a Goddess, therefore infallible, omniscient, and omnipotent. You are none of these Francesca; you are a magical being, liable to failure, fatigue and errors. Being magical, these failures, fatigue and errors can lead to unimaginable catastrophes. You almost got us exterminated by mishandling a sample of smallpox; you refused to recognise in yourself fatigue; confronted with that fact, you showed total disregard for Paschal's recommendations, and overtly challenged him, not only in his laboratory, where fatigue is a deadly condition, but also defied a direct order from your Liege Lord to take a rest; furthermore, you claimed prerogatives where none exists. You are not in any superior position relative to any of us, not even the people that work under your instructions, Francesca. You are, like all of us, equal amongst equals, and you were treated accordingly, notwithstanding what you believe. Paschal saw what he saw, and we shared his memory; we agree with his assessment. You acted brazenly, in total disregard of the most basic security procedures; you were out of control and, given our past experience with your behaviour, Paschal acted according to the principle of minimal harm, something you seem to have deliberately decided to forget from your oath as Healer!"

"What past behaviour?"

"I did not give you permission to speak, Healer Francesca!" replied Harold, eyes blazing. "But since you are so disrespectful and conceited, I will remind you that your previous brush with us was the consequence of total negligence on your part to assist my Wife in giving birth to Alexander, putting both their lives at risk. Had it not been for Harp's and Paschal's prompt intervention, I would have lost both!"

"Will this incident ever be forgotten?"

"No, Francesca, it will not be forgotten; forgiven, it has been, but the fact that you try, even now, to minimise the gravity of your act, the blatant neglect of your oath as a Healer, by refering to this criminal neglect of duty as a mere incident makes me realise you still harbour a very high level of frustration and barely controlled rage and jealousy, I cannot, in all conscience, leave you go free. As soon as your duty here is completed, you will be confined to a psychiatric stasis chamber, and will undergo another long therapy session. This one will be open-ended, and monitored closely by us all, to make sure there is real progress."

"And if I refuse?"

"You will be executed! I will not let a danger to society roam free, especially not a magical being! Have I made myself clear?"

"I doubt a dead person will be able to contribute to this ritual."

"We know that. Will you do it willingly?"

"Get lost! I am the Goddess of life and death and I will choose death rather then contribute to anything you ask!"

"Ian?"

"I have her motor activity under control Dad, except her foul mouth. I did not want her to claim it was I that put these words in that cesspool."

"Fine Son; Harp?"

"She has been trying to escape, hex us, and throw a good hundred spells, but I have intercepted all of them. Let us do the Recognition thing, and then I will do what is necessary to defang the Snake. No wonder the Doctors used a double Snake in a helix as their symbol in Ancient times if they all had the same megalomaniac attitude."

"Ian, do your part."

Francesca moved like a puppet, picked up her heirloom, and walked like a badly programmed android to the wall. She tried with all her might to throw the object against the wall, but Ian's will was greater then hers, and he managed to keep things under control. Once the heirloom was in place, Francesca saw her right hand move to get into a strange hole, and she felt her fingers get into what seemed to be a velvety glove. She felt a tiny prick on her pinkie and understood this was blood Magic, the most powerful of all Magic. She was so infuriated and felt so violated by the manipulation she fell into intense schizophrenic state, rendering Harp's control of her all the more difficult.

"Paschal, I need your help She went nuts!"

"Coming! Coming!"

For the two boys, the two minutes required for the blood Magic to take effect were the longest in their short life. Finally, the hand trap released Francesca, and Ian brought her to stand still in the room.

"Should we send her into stasis right away?"

"No Ian, we need her to recover the heirloom. Keep her paralysed until the Ritual is over. Are you having problems?"

"Yes and no, her heart rate is climbing steadily and I am afraid she will enter cardiac arrest before we can send her to a chamber."

"That's an issue. Sitar, take control of her autonomous nervous system while Ian maintains control over her central nervous system."

Gradually, Sitar brought back the heart rate, blood pressure and other fight or flight responses that threatened to kill Francesca prematurely under control.

"Francesca, I will be blunt. Trying to kill your self to prevent the full execution of the Prophesy is tantamount to high treason. I will not forget this last bout of disobedience, or forgive it easily!" said Harold, as he looked in the eyes of the Healer with sorrow. "I do not know what has gotten into you since we first met, but things have gone downhill considerably. You had my respect, and I trusted you with the life of my Wife and family. Now, I would not let you touch a patient with a twenty-foot pole, and I feel sad, very sad, at this. It is only in remembrance of days foregone that I will not execute you as soon as the ritual is over."

It took thirty minutes to complete the first part of the ritual after Sven had done his part, including the ten minutes to handle Francesca, whose eyes clearly showed she had vacated the penthouse.

"Paschal, verify that things are as they should be."

Paschal popped into the Cave, and examined the control panel. A crystal kept flashing, indicating 'Lock and Secure'. He pressed the crystal, pumping a bit of Magic, and the result was the yellow alert stopped flashing and turned a steady green. A whole plethora of other controls came to life, and he triggered the diagnostic sequences, before returning to the Room of Recognition.

"It is green, Dad. Let us wait for the diagnostics to complete and then I think we can remove the keys."

"How long? I want to neutralise Francesca as quickly as possible."

"Given previous diagnostics, give me ten more minutes. If all is fine, then she is yours. I will be going back to the Cave. Rockhook, would you like to visit that Cave? It is fascinating."

"If you do not mind, Paschal?"

"Not at all, come with me."

The two moved to a portal and made their way to the Cave. Paschal gave the Goblin a tour of the different aspects of the vast space, showing him some of its prominent features, and also some of its most discreet ones. The diagnostic came to a close as they were only halfway through the walk around the circumference of the Cave and Paschal quickly returned to the control panel.

"It reports that all lower functions are active. And it says it requires verbal command from the Bridge to continue. We have an idea it means the specially organised room we discovered a few months ago. I will need to bring Dad there. Let us go back to the Room of Recognition, Knowing Dad he must be biting his nails."

After a small detour at the restroom, the two Atlanteans made it back to the assembly.

"It says all is fine, but that the next step must be taken from the Bridge. I think it means the control room we discovered some time back, you know, right when you were exploring Thebes on your own, Dad."

"That can wait. We must now recover the heirlooms in the exact reverse order we placed them in the wall. Colibri?"

The young boy extracted his namesake out of the wall, and his image stayed lighted. The entire process took another thirty minutes to complete.

"We're done. Harp, do what you must. I am sorry Francesca, until such time as you get your mind in order, I cannot leave you go free."

"Ok, Dad."

Harp moved to Francesca, and places his ten fingers on special control points, before pumping some Magic in them in a specific order. After ten minutes, he released Francesca.

"I am sorry, Francesca, I have blocked your access to your magical core. You can no longer do Magic. Hopefully, this will help us help you, because you will not be able to hinder our efforts anymore and mislead us or interfere with our interventions."

"I hate you!"

"That is honest and acceptable. Maybe in time you will feel better."

"Never!"

"Never say never, Francesca, because eternity is a very long time especially in a psychiatric ward like a stasis chamber. Paschal, go ready a stasis chamber, while we hold her in place."

Paschal took off and was back five minutes later.

"It is in Hospital wing K, level B40, room 402, chamber 898."

"Let' use the portal to go there," said Ian to Sitar. "I do not trust side-along teleportation given her current condition."

The two boys moved Francesca in the portal, programmed their destination and disappeared. Ten minutes later they were back.

"She is locked up," said Ian.

"All right. We're done here. We take a rest and resume our daily routine. Paschal, you go study the Bridge. We need information on its uses. Rockhook, join us for the evening meal. In fact I wish everyone would join us at the mess hall. It is the change of the Guard evening, and I am a bit too shocked with Francesca to be up to handling this with a restricted set of people. I do not wish the Legions to believe they are responsible for my mood."

"I will gladly accept. I assume that everything is going fine at the ship or we would have heard of it by now?"

"Yes. The last ones that tried to inflate their ego by withholding information from me farted by their neck. I doubt anyone will be willing to face that any time soon."

"Dad, now I know where Ian takes his colourful language!"

"As if you did not contribute to it! I do remember paint falling in flakes from walls while you used language fit for the company of sewer Rats!"

***

The ritual of the Change of the Guards impressed the Goblin. Power held in check could be felt at every step and the amount of dedication the Royal leadership put in dealing with issues brought to them stunned the newly minted Atlantean. It came to him that he would have to partake in the ritual at some point, but he was totally taken by surprise when a Centurion came to him to report the progress on the move of his people and if he had directives for the night shift at the spaceship.

"Thank you for the report. I how long still until the move is completed?"

"We are a month from completion, your highness. The next stage will be done very quickly."

Rockhook ticked at being called your highness but then decided to ignore it for the moment. However, maybe the Atlantean in front of him held a high rank, and he did not want to insult him by his ignorance.

"I am sorry, I do not know your rank. It is difficult for me to tell."

"I can understand. Let me explain. For those of us that wear a uniform and are bipedal, the insignias are on the sleeves. A Legionnaire only carries the mark of his unit, and his training specialities. I will get to that later, since it can become complicated. The number of gold stripes on the sleeves indicates ranks. A Decurion, which commands ten Legionnaires, has a single stripe; a Scout leader, which is halfway to becoming a Decurion, has a half stripe. A Centurion has two stripes. A Legate has three, a Primus Legatus has four, and a Primus Prefectus has five. However, Harold has always refused the five stripes, and Annabelle has steadfastly refused the four and a half stripes of Secondus Prefectus. You can always note who is Commander in second, because he or she has a half-stripe less then the one above him or her. Whatever Harold and Annabelle say, we all know they are Prefectus, even if their number of stripes are one less."

"That means you are a Centurion, if I count the stripes?"

"Yes."

"Just for curiosity, how many would wear the Prefectus stripes, if Harold gave in to the popular pressure and displayed his true rank?"

"Let me see There can only be a single Primus Prefectus; but in our minds there are forty or so Prefectus, including all the Princes of Atlantis, and counting also Bushtail Fox, Blackie Dog, and the Hyena female, and at least seven or eight Equines whose name escape me. We just know them by sight. We hear that the Princes have added stranger species then yours to the list, and we have no idea what that means, or if they even have ranks like we do."

"Do you know how many people are in the Army?"

"Everyone, from birth to death, is in the Army."

"Do you have a number?"

"The last census put the Elves at somewhere around two million, but that dates almost seventeen years, and we are way too busy with the current emergency to do a census. All I can only say one thing, my Lord: the numbers have been exploding like I never thought possible, and I am told it is nothing compared to what they will be later on. There are rumours of fifty million rescued in a single operation, and then there is your population, your highness. Twelve million is not a small number. Elves are now born in triplets; Canines are usually born in litters of six to nine; Equines are now bearing twins; and it seems the Trolls are giving birth to twins too; I have no idea for Fairies, but I think they too are increasing in numbers dramatically. Dragons females now routinely give clutches of eight eggs, all fertile, whereas before if one out of two eggs were fertile it was considered a good omen!"

"And everyone is in the Army, without exception? That makes for a big Army!"

"Yes, your highness!"

"Why do you keep refering to me as your highness? I sure do not tower over anyone!"

"It is the title given to the leader of a specific group of people; I could call you King Rockhook, if you prefer?"

"I noticed everyone else forgoes titles. Just call me Rockhook."

"That is fine. You will do a fine Atlantean, Rockhook. You already have taken to the Royals' habit of dispensing with the salaamed of ranks and titles. We know we are in deep shit when they start using our ranks to call on us."

A musical laugh escaped the thin lips of Rockhook.

"I saw that during the Ritual of Recognition."

"I must now report to my successor. It is the night shift change. You already saw the Change of the Guards. I will be responsible for your protection during the next week, so you will see my Men and I a lot. We will try to be as unobtrusive as possible."

"Thank you, I have held you back long enough as it is."

The mess hall was emptying and Rockhook wondered what would be happening for the rest of the evening.

"Here you are, Rockhook. Do you want to sleep here or go back to the ship with us?" asked Timor.

"I will go back with you and the others. The day has been very tiring, and I need my bed and the comfort of a known environment."

"All right. I am collecting everyone that has to go back; follow me while we hunt down Viola. The last time I saw him, he was talking with Paschal and Harp about the current major move."

"My people?"

"No, yours is a piece of cake. They are removing vast swaths of land in Africa and just about anywhere where the Atom God has not damaged the planet beyond recovery. That means some millions of square miles, I think."

"That must create a lot of damage!"

"The biosphere is getting rescued; when an area is targeted for a move, every life form as ported to a huge decontamination chamber before being added to the ever more complex puzzle they are assembling."

"I see. What about my region?"

"It is next."

"That must take a lot of energy?"

"I have no idea of the scale, Rockhook. I never worked on that aspect of the rescue. But I can imagine it does. My notions of geography are limited. I suggest you talk to Yamato, Dunbar and Williams when you have a chance. They are dealing with the African pieces since they are the ones that did the survey and ported most of the higher-order life forms and did the emergency samplings."

"Why did they not just port everything right off?"

"Some areas of Africa are too contaminated to be recoverable; others do not harbour life worth the trouble; it is particularly the case in the Glass Lands. I read somewhere that it was known as the Sahara, but now it glows in beautiful and deadly colours due to the intense use of nuclear warheads on the sand. We found out later that the Ancients had a thirst for oil, and it was a strategic commodity. In an all-out war, the first task of any Army is to deprive its opponent of strategic resources."

"You seem to have a lot of knowledge on the question, Timor?"

"We do not spend all our time learning to kill. Strategy is an important part of what makes a good officer, and this was included in strategy, under the label macro-strategy. We learn history, and what were the causes of different wars; mostly, the wars were caused by conflicts on access to strategic resources. Flint for the cavemen, water for desert people, arable lands for Farmers, hunting grounds for Hunter-gatherers, oil for oil-dependent societies; copper and tin for the bronze age; iron for the iron age; forests for traders wanting to build tall ships; control of trade routes when trade gained importance, and slaves when a work force was needed to farm land, build infrastructures or just to find a way to expand and gain more farmland; spices to preserve food when they were discovered, salt mines; coal for high furnaces used in the production of steel and finally, the control of pechblende for the production uranium used in nuclear bombs. As a society evolves, the motives for war change. We also learn that religion is used to drive these wars, because people are much more willing to risk their lives if they are convinced the opposing party is evil. Religious wars are the most hideous of all wars, because they are based on lies and demonisation of the enemy. You see a lot more atrocity if a God or other gets used as a motivation force."

"That is a lot to take in, Timor. I am impressed!"

"You need not be. It is basic curriculum for all Atlanteans. We need to know where we come from to understand where we are going and to prevent repeating the errors of the past. Just look at our diversity. It could be tempting to feel superior to one another, and this could bring the Empire to its knees much more effectively then any exterior enemy could. We steadfastly hold to the notion of equality, be it between members of the same species as between species, because otherwise we could split into factions and become vulnerable. We are all proud to be Atlanteans, and we have equal access to resources, to counsel from the Pharaoh or his family, and practice promotion by merit rather then by kickbacks or seniority."

"What about Royalty?"

"Harold got elected as was my Dad; most of the others earned the respect of their respective constituents by being in the forefront of every difficult situation, by taking the best decision under the circumstances, by being there for those who had lost a dear one, and by willingly sharing power between each other. Did you know that Viola got a shift command while still technically not a Royal? He proved himself, and that made for rapid recognition. Harp took control of the Atlantean Army while still a little boy and made good his proof of leadership. So did Enron when Samson was incapacitated. He managed to mobilise the entire Elf nation in a flash and confront the Orcs invading the Elves' land. This is how we measure quality for leadership. Note I say leadership! They do not rule; they lead! Every one of us would follow any of them to Hell if required to do so. Ah, here is Viola. Let us get you home, my friend. Harp has brought the Matriarch back to her nest already."

"What a strange life-form!"

"You can say that again!"

"What a strange life-form!"

After a good laugh, Timor explained it was a figure of speech, not an order.