The Bridge, II
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Table of Contents Chapter 2, part 2 appears in this issue. |
Chapter 2: Requiem Revisitedpart 3 of 3 |
Cyr listened as Jonkil spoke movingly of the people he had watched over so long. His words were sad. “They have not all given up, Cyr. There are still some that could perhaps make a new start. I have tried to tell the Galactic Council this; that I could not write a Final Report because I did not yet see their end. It saddens me that the Council is not able to see it.
“But, then, they were never able to see it. For thousands of years the Council has done things in the same way. For thousands of years it has seemed to be the right way. This people refuse to fit in that pattern. It took Katia and her stubbornness and courage to make them save even a portion of her people. And what good has that done?”
“Jonkil, how can you say such a thing?” Cyr responded. “Katia’s people are here and they are living examples of how, when civilized, they can escape their past, their need for violence and hatred.”
“That,” said Jonkil, “is your programming speaking. Look at these people. They are puppy dogs. They have been taught the same things that you have, through your programming. Can you not see that, in the younger ones at least, the ones who know only this place, have become tamed and lost.
“Katia had fire! All of her Dreamer friends had fire. And these young ones? They have no fire. It is no wonder that they fail to add to the music of their forebears. What they write is tame and filled with sanctimonious puffery. On Earth, there is still fire.”
Katia’s hologram flashed into place and she found her favorite chair, probably by habit, and sat down. “Thank you, Jonkil. These are things, while you were peacefully watching the Earth, that I said to the Council many times. But, they are an old institution, so very set in their ways. All the fire that I could put into the council chambers was quickly put out by the cold winds of history.
“Oh, I managed to change a few things, but never for my people, my home. The old ways, the old beliefs, could sometimes be bent enough to let in a little new light, but they were too strong to ever be broken.”
“Katia,” replied Jonkil, “Katia, you speak and act as you always have. How can you be dead and gone and still be here as you are? How can you be so real?”
* * *
Jiang Yu-wei was just leaving his last class of the day when his son came up to him and said, “Father, it is my wish to walk home with you.”
“You,” replied Jiang Yu-wei, “have come all the way from home just to walk back with me. You honor me, Ting-sing, and you please me.”
“You are always so busy with the university, father, that I see you too little. When we were still in our village, you used to teach me everyday, now you must teach others. I miss our time together. Sometimes I wish we were still back in our village.”
“Ah,” said General Chu, who had overheard Ting-sing’s words, “a son who reveres his father. This is a good omen. Perhaps we can once again have a people who know the worth of their elders. You have trained him well, Jiang Yu-wei. I had that about which I would talk with you, but I will do so in the morning rather than steal the time from you son.”
“Thank you, General Chu. It is most considerate of you. I am afraid that it is true; my son and I do have too little time together now. Still, it is the future of our people that we are building and that is most important.
“Yet, since he as walked all this way to escort me home I would like to reward this show of respect and honor that he has shown. I will come to your office first thing in the morning, if that is sufficient for your needs, General Chu.”
“Yes, of course. Until then your time is your son’s,” answered the General, laughingly.
Walking down the path, Jiang Yu-wei looking proudly down at his son and smiling, asked, in a quiet voice, “Why have you come, Ting-sing, what is happening?”
Looking up into his father’s face, Ting-sing, also smiling for all to see, answered also in a very low voice, “In the shoulder pocket of my garment there is a letter from Shin. The messenger was very certain that you must have it as soon as possible. From the anxiousness on his face I fear that there has been some trouble.
“Also, I fear that mother may have seen me talking to the messenger, so I told him that we did not feed beggars here and sent him away. He has gone to the temple ruins should you need his services. He will be there five hours.”
Jiang Yu-wei, speaking loudly while patting his son on the back and removing the Shin’s letter, said, “My son, I am proud that you have come to escort me home, but if you would make me even happier you would find it in your heart to run and tell your mother that I am almost home and that we would like to have tea in my study.
“There we can talk about your studies, and I will give you time to tell me what it is that is on your mind. But first I must see Lin Chun and pick up the noodles you mother asked me to pick up. I would not dare come home if I forgot them again.”
Ting-sing gave a little bow and answered, “Yes, father. Your tea is as good as in your study right now.” And with that, he ran quickly down the path to the house.
Shortly after that he entered Lin Chun’s noodle shop and inquired about his wife’s order.
Lin Chun, eyes twinkling, answered that it was good that they were dried noodles since they had been waiting on the counter for two days.
Laughing, Jiang Yu-wei said, “Yes, we think we are the heads of our houses but we fear to go home, too often, without things our wives ask for.” Then he inquired if he could use the rest room because he did not think he would make it home unless he could.
Lin Chun nodded in the direction of those facilities and laughingly replied that if Jiang Yu-wei would get a real job, one that did not allow him to sit and drink tea all day, he would be able to make it home more quickly.
Jiang Yu-wei, also laughing, entered the rest room and quickly retrieved the letter from his robe and read it. Shin was right in sending it by messenger, even though it may have drawn attention on his household. He must come up with a plan to avert the possibility of such a problem coming upon his work. And he must do it soon.
Arriving at his house he gave his wife the package of noodles as he waved off her story about Ting-sing consorting with strangers. His son had already told him and it was of no consequence. Then he changed the subject by asking her if his tea was ready.
Disappointed and a bit grumpy at her dismissal, she confirmed that the tea, and Ting-sing, were in his study and then went off to do other necessary things.
* * *
Olga, at the hot springs for her weekly soak, noticed the blue stone at the bottom of the crevice almost as soon as she came into the cave. Still, with the others taking a soak with her, she could not do anything about it for quite some time.
The others were extra cautious around her, now, since almost losing her to the sickness, and someone was with her all the time to make sure that she did not disappear again.
Finally she got up and, looking at those around her, said, “I know that you all want to take care of me and keep me safe. But who, if you don’t get out of here and let me have some privacy, is going to keep you safe from me?”
There was shock on everyone’s face. Never had the old woman talked to them in such a manner. Always she had been the one to calm others down. How could it be Olga who was talking to them in this manner?
“Don’t look so shocked. I have always, until recently, been allowed to have some privacy. I need time to be alone to think. Now you won’t even let me pee without someone watching.
“The village is only an hour from here. It is not storming out and I have made the trip a number of times over the years. Please, go back there and let me enjoy a nice, quiet soak, by myself!”
Soon she was alone. But only after promising to be back at the village before dark.
Then, going to the crevice, she, holding the blue stone, raised the lever up to the top of the crevice and set over back into its notch. Silently an opening appeared as the great stone by the crevice moved aside. She was already inside the room even as the opening closed behind her.
* * *
President Cummings was very angry. The ones that they had been trailing had gotten away. Still, the scouts had found their path after some time and now he knew the direction they had to send the troops. But, the Vice President, his own son, wanted to consolidate what they had before heading out to take more. It was cowardice! That was what it was. Well, he would put a stop to that now.
Calling the Vice President into the remodeled Oval Office he began to curse him and tell him that the troops were certainly going to march after this new enemy and add their things and people to the nation as he, the President, commanded.
Then, eyes widening, he saw the gun his son had in his hand.
Soon, the word went out that the President had died and that the Vice President had been promoted.
New orders went out to fortify the present borders and make the nation strong enough to repel any attack. Only after that strength had been achieved, say in about five years, would new land be added to the nation.
Soon, at the new President’s pleasure, laughter rang, wine flowed, and merriment filled the old government buildings that had been so recently won from the Confederate Union.
* * *
Me’Avi et Sharma watched the conductor’s three screens with growing interest. There was an attempt, seemingly, being made to re-civilize the people. This Newtown was well organized and did not seem to be of a violent nature, unlike the others that she had seen over the time she had been et Sharma.
Now she wondered if there had been such things before. But no, there couldn’t have been. The records of the Galactic Council were definite, no race, once it had fallen into a barbarous situation, ever recovered. They had all died. This must be just something temporary, something that would soon fall apart as had all other organizations since the Asian Bird Flu had destroyed all the major governments all those years ago.
Yet, to be safe, she decided that she would check the records in her office. Surely if there had been such patterns before there would be references to them in Jonkil’s old records. Either way, she would answer Maestro Vertraumer’s wild speculations and get him to finish the Requiem and send him back to where he belonged.
* * *
Harlan McCabe looked over at his Janine. Since she had come into his life he had gained new appreciation for what Newtown stood for and its goals of bringing man back to some sort of civilized and peaceful society.
Now, standing as they were, in front of Sean, their old leader, they made the promises, age old ones, that would meld their lives into one future and make their loyalty to Newtown and its future even stronger.
Sean said the words that made them man and wife and then said, “I know you want to go off on your wedding trip, but... I need a few minutes of your time, from both of you, to give you some information that you will need from here on out.”
Passing through all the well wishers, they were soon sitting in the privacy of Sean’s current office.
Sean, looking at them in a strange way, started to speak, “I am leaving Newtown for a time. I will be going in the next day or two, before you are back from your trip. I have not seen my family in many years. I have never even spoken of them or told anyone of where they are. I have done this so that, should someone become disloyal, and it has happened, my family would not suffer anger that I have earned.
“You and your wife, when your wedding trip is over, Harlan, will be the new, temporary, leaders of Newtown. You will take my place until I come back.
“Still, we must be realistic about this thing I am doing. The country out there, between here and where my family is, is dangerous. There is always a chance that I will not come back. If that happens, you must be strong and keep the town on course. It must not fall back into savagery, as have so many others.
“I know that you may not understand my leaving on this trip. But try to understand that my heart aches for those of my family. I do not know even if they are still alive. I do not wish to die without knowing.
“Newtown will be ready for your leadership when you get back. I have written up a great deal of information for you to use and I have arranged for the people to be informed of this change in the best way I know how.
“Go now on your wedding trip and get to know each other. Become strong together, and lead this people well.”
With that, Sean got up and, after shaking each of their hands, left them alone in the room.
* * *
Kalvin Vertraumer, watching his screens, could hear the music in his head. First there would be the brash and violent, cacophonic sounds of the violence and death one saw most everywhere. Then, ever so lightly there would come the little breeze that seemed from another place that did not fit in the opening theme. Slowly the breeze would gain volume, until it sounded like bells pealing safety in a storm.
If only there were more bells, more places on the lovely Blue Planet that were striving towards progress and peace. If only it was not just one lonely cry in that terrible storm that was ravaging the people below.
“Perhaps,” he thought, “there are more. Perhaps I have just not found them. There are so many places that I have not looked. Why should there not be more? There must be more, the music demands it.”
Setting at the console area where his three screens were, he began to program the computer to use two of the screens for his great search. The other one would continue to be focused on Newtown and the events there.
“Now,” he thought, “I will find the melodies that will be the building blocks of the Requiem, the flights of rhapsody and sound the will tell the little parts of the story of these people. It will be a masterpiece no matter what the et Sharma thinks.”
* * *
The et Sharma was thinking that somehow, someone as careful as Jonkil was supposed to be in keeping tabs on the people below, there were a lot of blank spaces in the records.
For sure there were entries for every day of Jonkil’s tenure, but some of them did not seem to make much sense in the light of things stated in others. It was almost as if the records were written by several persons instead of just Jonkil. Entries and paths that were being chronicled suddenly stopped and others started out of who knows where?
Perhaps a trip to the Galactic Council and a side visit to Jonkil were in order. She could think of a number of very good questions that she would like to ask the former et Sharma of Earth.
To be continued...
Copyright © 2005 by euhal allen
