Island of Echoes (9 page)

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Authors: Roman Gitlarz

BOOK: Island of Echoes
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“We knew the storm was coming, but we did not know it would leave you behind,” Sarmia explained. “We found your ship when we investigated the area afterwards. It may surprise you, but we boarded your vessel while it was adrift in the sea and towed it to our shores.”

“Why did you not wake us?” I inquired.

“We did not want to frighten you,” Eireas replied, “though we did provide you with medical care. When we determined you were all in stable condition, we thought it would be best to allow you to discover us on your own.”

I nodded, for I was starting to feel the overwhelming nature of our circumstances.

“And the creatures I saw in the darkness?” I asked, remembering the tense night in the fog.

“I’m afraid that was also us,” the King divulged. “The storm affects our machines and we could not monitor you until the energy from the sun diminished in intensity. Arrivals on our sphere have not always been friendly and we needed to ensure that you would not pose a threat to us. The shapes you saw were the uniforms of our observation team, whose large helmets allow them to see through the darkness.”

“So you took our weapons,” I deduced.

“Yes,” Eireas confirmed. “Safety needed to be our main priority.”

I sighed, suddenly understanding the great burden which befell our hosts at the start of the conversation. I began to explain the information to my companions. Ella sat stoically as she processed the news, though Rémy appeared more agitated and impatient.

“Clearly these people have technology well beyond the advances of our own. If they meant us any harm, I believe we would have already seen it,” I concluded.

“So what are they saying?” Ella asked. “Is this some kind of alien world?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t think so. I still think they may just hold some strange beliefs about the rest of the globe.”

“What did the King mean when he said other arrivals were not friendly?” Rémy asked. “There have been others who have landed here?” I passed the question along.

Eireas nodded. “As I said, the event is rare. The last time it occurred was nearly seventy years ago. But we have historical data reaching back hundreds of years during which eleven vessels were transported to us by these storms. Twice before in the area you were in.”

“What about the last event? Were there arrivals?” I asked.

“There were,” the King confirmed. “Three survived.”

“What happened to them?”

“They adjusted to life here,” Eireas informed me. “Though I am sad to say that none are still living.”

“Can you show us an image of where we are on this island?” I implored.

The King nodded and Sarmia began to press more letters on the wall.

The picture of the lawn beside the temple began to recede as the camera appeared to move farther up into the sky. We could see the
Bigorneau
on the sea and then it, too, became smaller. The coastline was soon a rocky golden outline against the deep blue water, permeated by patches of deep green vegetation. The movement was unpleasant, like looking down from the top of a carnival wheel, and my stomach felt queasy as I watched the vista’s passage to impossible heights.

The picture’s motion did not cease until the island of Capribo was outlined in full. Its shape was unique, with distinctive peninsulas extending in many directions. I recognized several low mountain chains and patches of lush forests. Examining the finer details brought a sense of familiarity to me, like an intuitive feeling that I could not pinpoint. I walked up to the image and studied the coastline in greater detail. I gasped.

“What is it?” Ella asked, joining me before the screen.

I met her gaze and stared deeply into her eyes. “I know exactly where we are.”

CHAPTER  9

 

Darkness. Overwhelming darkness. No candles, no moonlight, not even the distant glow of stars overhead. Yet I was not panicked. Quite the opposite, I felt a sense of calm and comfort. Where was I? How did I get here?

I propped myself up on an elbow. I was in a bed, very comfortable by the feel of it. It was soft and warm, but unfamiliar. I stood up, my feet making contact with the cool stone floor. My hands reached out into the emptiness before me. I stretched to the right. Nothing. Then to the left. A cold wall. No, not a wall. It was glass. A window!

And then the details reemerged. It was the glass wall in the bedroom of the palace apartment. I remembered now. We were led back to our chamber by Sarmia after our discussion, after the details of our predicament had been exposed.

I remember she showed us how to use the window. I stretched my hand to the wall beside the smooth curvature of glass and gently pressed my finger to it, gliding up. The tint of the glass lessened as my finger rose higher. Light began to fill the little room. I could see the electric power of the city outside. It was still night, but the glow of lights created a halo above the cluster of buildings.

Rémy slept soundly in the other bed. I picked my watch up from the wooden dresser and looked at the face. Four o’clock in the morning. I must have slept for less than two hours, for we arrived back at our apartments rather late. Ella, Rémy, and I had countless questions for our hosts, which they courteously answered to the best of their abilities. Or should I say
our
abilities. Never before had I felt like a simpleton being exposed to the intricacies of civilization for the very first time.

I silently stepped out to the lounge. I tried to remember where Sarmia had demonstrated the use of the overhead light. Once again, I placed my finger to the wall and slid it up. The large rose which was carved into the ceiling began to illuminate from within. The light revealed a pile of luggage and an assortment of other materials throughout the room.  I spotted my own brown trunks among them and realized they were items from the
Bigorneau
. The Capribians must have conveyed them from the ship shortly after our departure. I opened my crates and spotted clean clothing within. I grabbed fresh attire and proceeded to the bathing room, for I knew I would sleep no more that night.

There is a purity which comes with putting on an unsoiled garment which has the ability to lift one’s spirit. I realized this as I walked back into the lounge and excitedly rummaged through my belongings until I found my leather-bound journals. They were chock-full of field notes, but I skimmed through the pile and spotted a single tome with unfilled pages. My fountain pen lay nestled beside it. I was nearly giddy as I increased the illumination within the room and took a seat at the dining table.

It was then that I began the writing of these exploits. Now that I have expounded the adventure which befell my companions and me, I must admit that I am not entirely certain why I began this text at all. Perhaps there was a part of me which did not fully believe the tale which King Eireas and Etia Sarmia presented to us that night after dinner, despite the overwhelming evidence to support it. Perhaps I simply wished to preserve a piece of myself within this new world. Whatever the motivation, the journal offered me respite during those enigmatic days.

I had just finished recounting the details of the great temple when I heard the call of the morning horn. My companions began to stir. I put the writing articles back into my trunk and took a seat on the couch overlooking the curved window and the city below. The sun had almost fully risen above the horizon to the east. Lady Pearson was the first to make her way out from the bedrooms, after myself of course.

“Good morning, Lady Pearson,” I greeted her, rising from my seat.

“Good morning, Mr. Laurence. What’s all this?”

“Our items from the ship,” I informed her. “It seems they were brought in during the night.”

“Oh what a relief!” she sighed joyfully. She spent some time rummaging through the trunks and selected two elegant dresses. “By the way,” she added from the doorway before returning to the bedroom, “What time did you and Ella return last night? I don’t recall her even coming in.”

“Our conversation with the King lasted long into the night,” I responded.

“And did you have any luck?”

“We certainly received a lot of information,” I disclosed, “though I think it may be best to discuss it as a group.” 

She looked upon me for a few seconds and nodded before closing the door. The others likewise awoke and searched through the newly arrived trunks before bathing. Two attendants came to the door and I allowed them entry. They delivered an assortment of food and placed it upon the dining table.

“Amthel,” I stated.
Thank you
. My first Capribian word, which I recalled from the previous night. The first of many, I realized.

My companions and I took our seats for breakfast. The fare was most welcome, for my stomach had long been rumbling. I eagerly stuffed myself with light fluffy pastries and fruit. Three elegant metal pitchers stood at the center of the table, respectively filled with water, some kind of fruit juice, and coffee. I was most delighted to find the latter, though the preparation was unlike the robust brews served in our cafés. No milk or sugar was provided, but the roast was light enough to be thoroughly enjoyed black.

“Well I for one can’t wait a moment longer,” Lady Pearson piped. “I simply must know what transpired last night.”

“Agreed,” Travert added between bites. Father Daniel was unusually silent.

I looked to Ella and Rémy. How would we ever begin recounting the events of such a night?

“For starters,” I began, “you can rest assured that we will receive nothing but the finest treatment. So long as we do not break any laws or cause any trouble, we are welcome to do as we please.”

“Even leave?” Travert queried.

“Yes, uncle,” Rémy confirmed, “but it’s not that simple.”

“What do you mean?” Daniel finally spoke up.

I followed the example of our hosts and stepped up to the wall. I slid my finger against the seemingly empty partition and demonstrated the mechanism to add or remove light from the carved flower overhead. I then pressed my palm to the wall and watched the same look of befuddlement which I must have demonstrated just a few hours prior as the gray paint transformed into a photograph of the Tower of Marble, for that was the name of the structure in which we sat, as we came to know.

It was no surprise that Ella, Rémy, and I were assaulted by questions, most of them the very same inquiries which we had for our hosts. We did our best to explain the sun storms and I tried to duplicate the motion picture of our carriage approaching the tower as Sarmia had shown me to do. Lady Pearson, Travert, and Daniel watched amazed as we revealed the Capribian technology.

“And then I asked if we could see our position on the island,” I informed the group.

“What did they say?” Travert asked.

“They showed us. Like this.” I pressed the pictogram which began the rise away from the image on the wall-screen. Once again, the land receded farther away from the camera’s view until the entire island was visible. I saw Travert’s eyes widen at the sight. I met his baffled gaze as he tried to make sense of the landmass before him.

“Chypre,” he breathed.

“I beg your pardon?” Lady Pearson spoke up.

“It is the island of Cyprus,” I informed them. “We have not been exploring some long-lost world in the middle of the sea, but have in fact been traversing well-known territory this entire time.”

“But… how?” Daniel asked.

“That part is a little more difficult to explain,” Rémy began.

“Well try, for heaven’s sake!” Travert bellowed.

“The King informed us that the storm we were in formed a bridge between two nearly identical worlds,” Ella explained calmly. “This sphere is a duplicate of our own, but neither in the past nor the future. We are still in the same place at the same time, just on a different Earth.”

“Oh what devilry!” Daniel barked. “These people will say anything to keep us here.”

“I thought the same, Father,” I stated, retaking my seat at the table. “However, I have no other way to explain all that has come to pass since our departure from Alexandria.”

“And let me guess,” Daniel continued sarcastically, “there is no way of reopening this bridge of worlds?”

“There is,” I informed him. “The sun storms. Unfortunately, they are very infrequent. The King told us that, on average, they occur only once in a lifetime.”

Daniel huffed. “I think we should ask for repairs to your vessel, Captain, so that we may see this ‘other world’ for ourselves. This little show is not enough to pull the wool over my eyes.”

Travert nodded. “I heartily agree, Father. If we are free to do as we please, then the request should be a simple one. We will leave these people to their own beliefs and devices.”

“Then it’s decided,” Lady Pearson confirmed. “We will repair the ship and leave.”

“And go where, grandmother?” Ella asked.

The old woman looked upon her with confusion. “Home,” she said simply and took a sip of her juice.

It was pointless to argue, and part of me agreed with the elders. Whatever the Capribian technology displayed, there was no getting around the fact that we simply needed to see it to believe it. And as excitement surpassed the sadness within my heart, I realized I very much wanted to believe it, though I had yet to discern why.

Etia Sarmia came to visit us at the conclusion of breakfast. Given Daniel’s outburst the night before, I thought it best that our request should come from me. I pleaded her for assistance.

“There is no need to explain,” she assured me. “I understand how you must feel. I would probably ask the same in your situation. We will repair your ship.”

“I thank you, Etia,” I responded humbly.

“Please, call me Sarmia,” she requested with a smile. Her beautiful white teeth sparkled in the light. “It may take us a few days to make the necessary repairs. In the meantime, I would very much like to teach you more about our world, if you so have the desire. “

“What an extraordinary offer!” I burst. “I do, very much!”

“Be wary, Mr. Laurence,” Daniel warned me as he got up from the dining table.

“I’m a historian, Father,” I retorted, “It’s in my nature to seek out this kind of information. And an offer to teach me more about Capribo is hardly cause for concern.”

“Is that what she offered?” Rémy perked up. “Perhaps you may ask if I can join as well?”

“The language barrier may be difficult, but of course I’d be happy for you to join,” I answered enthusiastically.

“Rémy does not speak the Latin tongue,” I told Sarmia, “but he would like to learn more about Capribo as well.”

“Would he perhaps like to learn
our
language?” the advisor asked. “I can arrange for him to study it while you and I explore the Tower of Marble.”

Rémy eagerly agreed and the advisor left the chamber. I was shaky with anticipation and equally overjoyed that at least one of my companions shared my enthusiasm. I could only imagine what secrets the tower possessed that I had yet to see.

My group and I spent the next few hours separating our belongings into our respective rooms. My trunks were few, though a number of books which I had previously removed stood in a neat pile to their side. I brought these into the bedroom as well. With my hunger satisfied and my excitement brewing, it took all my reservation to sit still until Sarmia came to take me on my tour. I passed most of the time with the writing of these memoirs. It was beneficial to set them to paper before the details began to fade, and I very much wanted to capture my awe of those first few days on the island.

The Etia returned with an assistant several hours later and escorted Rémy and me into the hallway. She pressed the wall square which called the lift.

“This young man will escort Rémy, while you and I will head down to the main floor,” she explained.

I nodded. “Rémy is very excited about his lessons.”

I heard the grinding sound of sliding marble panels and saw that there was a second lift door farther down the hall. “That one is ours,” Sarmia informed me. I wished Rémy luck and followed my guide.

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