Island of Echoes (12 page)

Their shapes were nothing like the stiff constructions of our own cities. Some had curved sides with neat rows of windows lining the arcs. Others twisted up in spires as if they had been melted and formed whilst still soft. How they managed to remain standing was a mystery. Brick had been replaced in favor of metal or glass and all the structures sparkled with electric light. Some had bases of white stone, with columns and sculpture fused into the construction. Others had patterns chiseled directly into the glass or metallic plates.

“Good heavens,” Lady Pearson breathed and Daniel crossed himself.

We stood stupefied as the monoliths continued to gain stature as we advanced. Our wonder upon seeing the Tower of Marble suddenly seemed foolish by comparison. This sister Alexandria was a metropolis unlike any other. I discerned elevated transports shooting rapidly between the towers, hovering craft with lit sides slowly moving across the sky, and countless other boats coming to and fro within the great harbor.

Sarmia turned her head to us. “Welcome to the capital of the Royal Republics of the Sea,” she proclaimed proudly. My companions and I could offer no response.

The alien world before me almost overshadowed a smaller structure standing farther out on the water. At the outer edge of the harbor was a majestic ancient lighthouse of white marble. Well over four hundred feet tall, though still diminutive beside its modern counterparts, it was divided into three layers. A tall square tower made up most of the structure, atop which stood a smaller octagonal pylon. The very tip was cylindrical and partly assembled of great columns. A magnificent fire burned from within the pillars, the flames reflecting in the countless metal statues which lined the edges of each layer below.

I immediately recognized the edifice. It was the Lighthouse of Alexandria, a wonder of the ancient world. It had collapsed long ago on our world. Yet there it stood, as beautiful as the day it was built. My heart raced within my chest; my head was dizzy with thought. Ella locked her fingers within mine and I was overcome with emotion. I turned to her, put my hands to her face, and kissed her passionately in the glow of the lighthouse flame.

The rays of the morning sun warmed my face. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. My bed, like the rest of the room, was spacious but simple. If the building was any example, the Alexandrians took a subdued approach to aesthetics. I stood and walked to the wall of glass overlooking the great harbor below me. I was quite dizzy at the sight, for I must have been some forty stories high. The majestic blue water was pierced by countless ships dashing across its surface. The lighthouse, which must also have been forty stories in height, loomed majestically at the edge of what used to be Pharos Island. Just as in our world, the ancient mole which was built to unite the small isle with the mainland had silted over to create a large peninsula.

I bathed quickly and rummaged through the chest of drawers in my room. They contained none of the colorful tunics to which I had become accustomed, but were instead filled with the casual clothing for everyday wear. A light green shirt and navy blue trousers made a satisfactory combination. The shirt was very comfortable, with metal buttons running down the front, rolled sleeves, and no collar. It was not nearly as long as the formal tunics, so I tucked it into my trousers before completing the ensemble with a belt.

The bedroom and bathroom in the apartment were mine alone, and I could not recall the arrangement of the other rooms. I had been positively overwhelmed upon our entrance the night before. With a fair amount of certainty, I recalled that Rémy’s bedroom was next to mine. I stepped out into the hall and knocked on the door. I heard shuffling within. The door slid open marginally and I saw the pale outlines of Daniel’s face in the darkness.

“How can I help you, Mr. Laurence?” his voice was hoarse.

“Pardon me, Father. I do not recall the way to the dining room,” I admitted quietly.

“It’s the third door on the right,” the priest directed with a bony finger.

I turned to thank him but his door was already closed, hit footfalls lumbering away.

The dining room likewise overlooked the harbor. Rémy was already seated within, breakfast before him.

“Good morning!” he saluted. He was similarly dressed in the less formal attire, with a pair of khaki trousers and a shirt as blue as the sea. The upper garment was different from my own, with short sleeves and a thin band of white cloth forming a collar around his neck. Instead of buttons, the collar ended in a V shape, exposing the dark hairs of his chest.

“Good morning,” I echoed and poured myself some coffee. “You’re in good spirits,” I observed, taking a seat beside him.

“Indeed!” he confirmed in between bites of bread and marmalade.

“Because we are here?” I asked.

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “And because it is just as we had hoped.” He nodded up and only then did I spot a map of the Mediterranean on the dining room’s wall-screen. The top was labeled in simple block letters.

VAΣIΛÆ REI PUBΛICÆ ΘAΛAΣIΣ

The Royal Republics of the Sea

Although the map looked more like a photograph than a drawing, complete with vegetation and the reflection of light on the water, the borders of fifteen states were projected onto the image. The smallest of them was the island in the sea’s north-east corner. Hovering next to it, in simple white letters, was the word CAPRIBO.

The political borders of the other states resembled none of our own nations. Italy, here labeled ROMA, was closest to our divisions, though the state enclosed parts of France, Switzerland, and Austria-Hungary as well. Much of Germany, former Poland, and Denmark now formed a great Baltic state at the nation’s northern border. The Ottoman Empire was nowhere to be seen and some of its territories retained their ancient titles. The states encircled the whole of the Mediterranean in one united nation. I took a sip of coffee, fresh and aromatic, as I perused the chart.

Lady Pearson entered the dining room several minutes later. Her eyes were red and swollen and I was surprised to find her on the arm of Etia Yawa, who guided her to the nearest chair. Sarmia entered the room behind them and clicked the door shut.

“We heard weeping,” Sarmia informed me. “We knocked and found your companion on the bed. I am sure seeing the city was a shock, but I had very much hoped to avoid this. We tried to stagger your exposure to our world, but apparently we did not stagger it enough.”

“Lady Pearson,” I began soothingly, “is there anything I may get you? Some water or coffee perhaps?”

“No, Mr. Laurence,” she answered. “It’s kind of you to offer, but I don’t require anything at the moment.” She gazed out the window and let out a sigh. “Youth is a marvelous healer when it comes to the pains of change. I fear those days of adjustment are long behind me.”

“If I may be so bold,” I continued, “there is no permanence in the world, even the one we left behind.”

“While so much is true,” she said slowly, “change is never as rapid as this. I am afraid I cannot take the shock.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” I countered. “Your high spirits and rationale have made quite the impact on this journey.”

“On the journey, perhaps,” she reluctantly agreed, “but what am I to do now? I am without estate, family, or practical skills. I doubt very much that the hospitality of these strangers should continue to my dying day.”

“Is it wise to jump to such conclusions?” I asked. “We must take our life one day at a time. There is no sense in worrying about a hypothetical future which may never come.”

She sat back in her chair and pondered the words for a minute. “You are a prudent young man. I can see why Ella is so taken with you.” I looked down at my mug and I heard her chuckle. “Do you really think I missed that moment on the ship last night?” she revealed. “A grandmother sees all.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you approved.”

Her lips betrayed a small smile. “It is remarkable what one discovers when the social pressures of the world vanish.”

I scrutinized her for a minute. Perhaps there was more to the woman than her mask of austere etiquette.

“I am happy to see a smile return to your face,” I confessed. “And you must admit, there is a great deal of good in the world before us. That map, for instance,” I indicated the wall-screen. “The mere suggestion of a united Europe would have been ridiculed to no end back home. Yet here, it is reality. And not only Europe, but the Near East and North Africa as well.”

“We have territories,” she pointed out.

“Yes, but I am not speaking of occupancy. These are one united people.”

Lady Pearson considered the map. “It is remarkable,” she finally agreed, “but I doubt the borders are stable. You know as well as I how quickly these matters change. The Franco-Russian alliance may have already ended in our absence.”

“I admit I do not know much of this world yet. But I hope to learn. And I would like to share that information with you if you so desire.”

“You’ll stop at nothing, will you?” she asked lightheartedly. “Very well, Mr. Laurence. You’ve piqued my interest.”

The door to the room opened again and King Eireas caught us all off-guard. He was alone and in formal dress. Both Etias rose from the table and we followed their example.

“Agiméra,” he proclaimed and we returned the greeting.

“Heavens, I must look of fright,” Lady Pearson whispered. She put a hand to her face. “Please inform the King that I need to wash up.” I delivered the message as she hurriedly made her departure from the room, bowing her head as she passed the young man.

Eireas poured himself a cup of coffee and joined us at the table.

“I see you have been studying our geography,” he noted approvingly.

“It is amazing how changed the land appears with different borders,” I marveled.

The King nodded. “Yes, Rémy has attempted to teach me of the divisions on your sphere. I have no doubt they would look as foreign to me as these do to you.”

“I have a book of maps, your highness,” I informed him. “I would be happy to share it with you when we return to Aleria.”

His dark green eyes flashed. “I don’t know why I didn’t think to ask! I would enjoy that very much.”

For the first time since our arrival, I realized I had something to offer which our hosts did not already possess. My companions and I represented an entire world to which there was no other access. “It is the least I can do,” I replied humbly.

Rémy conversed in Anuprian with the Etias during my discourse and I regretfully realized that I was now the sole occupant of the room who did not understand the melodic tongue. Eireas must have sensed my discomfort.

“Your friend is a very good student,” he informed me. “He seems to possess a natural talent for our language.”

“His native tongue is likewise a remnant of ancient Latin.”

The King chuckled. “Our scholars continuously bicker whether our language is more Latin or Greek,” he explained.

“And which side do you take?” I asked.

“Neither,” he smiled. “I am no linguist, but a historian. As are you, if I remember correctly?”

“I am.”

“Then you will appreciate this,” he extended his hand to the window and we walked over to admire the vista.

“That tower,” Eireas indicated the lighthouse, “is my favorite monument in the world. I used to travel here as a boy to gain inspiration from it. I drew it, I read books in its shadow, and I climbed to the top more times than I can count.”

“Yes, it is quite beautiful,” I admitted. It stood alone at the edge of the harbor. The blocks of polished white marble glittered like exotic jewels. Its flame was crowned with a conical roof, a large statue of Poseidon standing proudly at its tip. The figure was made of copper and, just as the smaller sculptures below, it had long turned green with verdigris.

“This was a wonder of the ancient world. It is called Pharos.” The King beamed.

“Yes, taking its name from the island on which is stood,” I added, and reveled in the look of surprise upon his face.

“You know it,” he stated curiously.

“Oh yes. The lighthouse was built on my world too. Though I am sad to say that my eyes have never beheld it. It was destroyed in an earthquake over six hundred years ago.”

He gasped. “Yes, here too! But it was rebuilt immediately.”

“Such was not the case where I am from.”

The King mused over my words. “This is a tremendous opportunity,” he finally concluded. “As I mentioned, arrivals onto our sphere are few. It is even rarer that we are able to communicate with them. The limited number who did speak some form of our languages were not well-versed in history. But you are the first to transcend all of those limitations.”

My heart soared at the compliment. “I thank you. But what opportunity does this present?”

“The source of the split between our worlds has been a great mystery for hundreds of years. We cannot even be certain whether visitors like you come here from one sister sphere or many.”

I began to understand his excitement.

“I can arrange for us to meet at the great library this evening,” he continued. “With your assistance, we may be able to discover the source of the shift.”

I heartily agreed.

Our Capribian hosts had traveled to Alexandria for political reasons, and we were once again left alone during the afternoon whilst they attended a government assembly. I thought it best to remain within the residential tower during the proceedings. One could get led astray within Alexandria when the local culture and dialect were understood. The likelihood was no doubt amplified when they were not.

There was a comfortable lounge beside the dining room. Fine leather couches stood atop a floor of polished wood, with tables and plants spread throughout the chamber. Rémy and I replenished our cups of coffee and progressed there to continue our study of this sister sphere. But to record the details of an entire globe would take more paper and ink than I have brought with me. Instead, I made a point to ask the King for a physical volume of work which I can peruse at my leisure.

“I feel just as a school boy again,” I commented. “Trying to remember names and borders… it’s all so nostalgic.”

“Ah oui,” Rémy agreed. “We will be forever students.”

“Man would do well to think of life as self-taught university. Every day, a new lesson and a chance for reflection. When interest is lost, one simply selects a new course.”