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Authors: Nicola McDonagh

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BOOK: Echoes from the Lost Ones
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“Amongst others.”

“What others?”

“Wirt, desist with all the queries. You sound like a crawler begging info from its mam.”

“At least I care as to our whereabouts. Those two seem unaware, so engrossed in each other’s bits.”

“We not engrossed. She fell, we caught, is all. Keep unclean thoughts to yourself, half male.”

“I am all male. Do not call me half, ye who cried like a fembub.”

“Enough bickering. Let us go. Now follow me as close as is convenient. Do not speak unless spoken to. And above all else, to those who cannot endure heights, do not look over the mountain tops.”

Eadgard entered the corridor and we followed, this time in single file. The passage that had seemed so bright and wide and long looked smaller in the light of dawn. The metal floor and walls and ceiling that had appeared all alien and forbidding, became nothing more than a simple gangway that led to the exit. Eadgard paused at the doorway and turned to us with a solemn look upon his face.

“It will be windy and cold so brace yourselves,” Eadgard said and one by one, we stepped out of the aircraft and into the raw, fresh air.

The ground beneath our feet crunched and cracked as we walked towards the vast building before us. It stood out like a blossom in winter against the massive hills that surrounded it. I looked back and noticed that the landing area was not so big and not so far from the edge of the cliff, and gulped in hard. I glanced all around and over the edge and sucked in sharpish at the sight of a sheer drop of swirling mist and cloud. Becoming dizzy, I pulled back my head and focused on the place we were walking to. Ice and a thin covering of snow made our progress fraught with danger and we slipped and stumbled across the narrow, pebble-strewn path that led to the Monastery.

“We do not like this place. We have strange feeling in pit of stomach.”

“Do not be afraid, Marcellus, those that abide here are goodly folk and wise.”
 

“Wise enough to give us the info we need?”

“Why else would I bring you here, Adara?” Eadgard said and stopped at a large metal door. It had a slit at eye level that made it look as though it was about to break into a massive grin. “Let me talk for us all.”

He pounded hard upon the door and a glow slithered out from the tiny gash. Then a voice, stern and gruff, spoke, “You are late. Which is inconvenient for the Abbot. Stand back and I will allow you in.”

There was a grinding noise and the gigantic door opened outwards. A shortish, rotund figure dressed in a black robe that ended at his feet, stood before us. He was without head hair but wore a marvellous grey beard that stretched down to where I assumed his navel would be.

The monk spoke in a softish tone. “Follow me and do not say a word. Some of the brothers have taken a vow of silence and must not be engaged in any sort of discourse. This is a place of peace and serenity. Those that abide here do so because they can be assured of privacy. The Abbot, and only he, has access to commune with the outside world. Eadgard, you must relinquish any pods or means of communication gadgets you might have upon your person.”

“I have no such instruments.”

“I will take you at your word. It is breakfast time here. You will partake of our modest fare? I am Brother Dominic. May the Lord be with you.”

“And also with you,” Eadgard said and bowed low. “We have come at a direct request, from Abbot Benedict. We are to have an audience with him I believe?”

“All in good time. Now, if you will follow me.”

Chapter Eighteen

Food Of The Gods

As we entered the building I almost shouted out at what I saw - a room so vast that half of all who lived in Cityplace could have dwelt within it. The ceiling was high and my eyes could barely focus on the intricate pics that decorated it. The images were nothing like I had seen before. They were not photos or the like, or the pastel doodlings at Wirt’s homeplace. These were soft flowing strokes of colour and light, depicting all manner of skirmishes and trouble.

I almost went dizzy again from the squinting up and rubbed my eyes to better focus on the rest of the fascinating chamber. There were large oblong windows on both sides that let in a rainbow of light through their intricate patchwork of coloured glass.

The white walls were indented with alcoves containing what I took to be brightly painted puppets. For what purpose their use I could not begin to guess. Perhaps these religious folk indulged in make believe and used them for sport?

The floor was covered in the most colourful pelts I had come across. They felt softer than a kittle-kits fur when I bent low to touch. Eadgard pulled away my hand and shook his head. I grinned in apology and quickened my step to be in line with Wirt, whose eyes were as wide as a newborn. Marcellus narrowed his and turned his head sharply as if expecting an attack.

I punched his shoulder by way of easing his fear. He rubbed the thwacked spot, I pushed him forward and He moved warily on, glancing at the recesses as though one of the statue things would come to life and pounce upon us all.

We came to a halt by a pair of huge brown wooden doors that made an end to the corridor we had walked down. Brother Dominic held up his hand and nodded towards said entrance.

“This is the dining room. Through this portal are many folk. Some are Brothers like myself and some are not. Partake of our humble food, but please, do not engage anyone in talk. You look confused. It is perhaps my choice of wordage. The place we are to enter is a place for the sitting down and consuming of foodstuffs. Do not talk, or should I say, chittle-chat, with any you may find there. Nod if that is clear?” We did and trundled into the place for grub.

The room was brightly lit from long curved pieces of metal all intertwined with each other, with several bent arms jutting out to form a circle. They hung from the ceiling in regular rows and each had a glowing orb stuck in the end of each of its many arms. It was a cheery light that could not but soothe a fretful constitution. Even Marcellus lost the look of suspicion from his face.

Clustered in the centre were many tables and chairs, all made from what appeared to be the finest oak wood. I have seen many a pic of furniture such as this in a vid I saw at early school about days of yore. I’d thought they existed only in movie form and could not wait to touch them and see if they were real.

There were no windows, though, which was odd to me. The walls were bare and washed in a soothing pale yellow. On the right hand side was a huge counter filled with many dishes and bowls. Brother Dominic guided us towards it and I smelled a smell so watering of mouth that I nearly dribble-drabbed all down my chin. I could not wait to taste the fresh food that was before me.

“Here, take a plate and choose anything you wish. Do not be afraid. Go on, eat. Fill your bowls from as many other bowls as you see fit.”

He need not tell us twice. After losing the contents of my gut, and not wanting to remember the stuff we ate in the Clonie Zone, my tum was all but empty and in need of filling. I was first to grab the largest plate I could find and packed it to the brim-full with steaming hot goodies. Wirt, Marcellus and Eadgard followed suit and Brother Dominic, whose plate was scanty compared to ours, showed us to a large table were other similarly attired Monks sat. He gestured for us to plonk our rears and this we did, careful not to lose a single piece of tasty titbits in the speed of our descent.

The other Brothers lifted their also bald heads, and gave us a welcoming smile. So genuine a look was on their faces that we could not help but to grin right back. When that was done we took our utensils and shovelled in the yummy food. The tastes were such that I felt a drop of wet at the corner of my eyes. Each mouthful caused a happy memory to stir in my confused brain. This nosh was the nosh of a higher place.

When we had finished and licked our plates clean (I say “we” but really it was only Wirt), Brother Dominic pushed his untouched plate forward, leant close and whispered, “Now that you have eaten I must usher you to another area, a place where we can talk in private. For what I need to tell you is not for everyone’s ears.” He gave a sideways glance and narrowed his eyes as he spoke and a chill spread across the back of my neck. We rose and followed Brother Dominic. I held back for a sec just so that I could pass my hand over the polished wooden tables. Real all right.

The other users looked in our direction as we moved away and I managed to get a quickly glimpse of the assortment of hominids that frequented the area. Mostly Brothers, like Dominic. Some in black robes, some in light brown and some, not Brothers at all. Fems! Dressed like the Brothers only wearing close-fitting soft helmets that covered all their head and neck, so that their faces popped out as though they had stuck their head through a hole in a bedding sheet and forgotten to take it off. I wondered if they too were bald.

I nudged Wirt and as discretely as I could manage, pointed at said fems. He looked at them, then at me and bent close to my ear. “They are the oddliest Ladies I have ever seen. I am dumbstruck with astoundedness to see such here. I had heard that monks had no inkling for the quickie sort of bonk.”

“I do not fancy they are fems of that genre. They wear no paint or garments that show off their goodly rations.”

“This is a place full to bursting with quiz.”

We continued to gawp until we reached the exit. Brother Dominic led us through it and we walked in the opposite direction to the way we came for a few steps, then turned left at a corner and into another vast corridor, also without windows. A gentle light from glass shells attached to the grey walls made it look as though the sun would rise at any moment. When we came to a black door, the monk gestured for us to gather close.

“Are we to see the Abbot now? Is he in here?”

“No, he is not, Adara. That is the Library and is of no use to you. I brought you here simply because it is less frequented than other passageways.”

“For what purpose?”

“To tell you that you are to become a great Auger.”

“I do not believe in prophecies and the like.”

“Perhaps not, but you cannot escape your destiny.”

“Tacky words, Brother. I may gag if you continue in this manner.”

“Indeed, since you do not appreciate my attempts at clarifying the fate that awaits you all, I will say only that your mission may take you on a different path than the one you began.”

Well duh-uh! I thought. Big secret. I had managed to fathom that much myself. What with being met by a Backpacker and taken to this place in a flying craft and the like.

“It is true, we are on a journey that has steered off course a little, but now we are back upon it,” Eadgard said.

“I just wish someone would be direct. To be sure, I have no comprehensions as to who I should trust and who not.”

“Adara, those that you think you can trust, may not be so honest. And those that you thought you could not, may be allies after all.”

“What? More riddles Eadgard?”

Wirt turned to look at Marcellus, who gave back the glare with the same venom and then some.

“The Abbot Brother, are we to meet?”

“All in good time, Eadgard. First, Adara must meet with another.”

“Not before the Abbot.”

A sound like the falling of many boxes came from the behind the closed door. We turned our attention to the noise and Brother Dominic took my arm. “Come, Adara.”

“Nah. I want to know what made that racket.”

“It is nothing.”

I pulled myself free and stood in front of the portal. The others joined me and Brother Dominic sighed. “May you discover all that you require,” he said and gave us all a glance full of meaning and dread.

I shivered without knowing why and said Brother pulled open the enormous door.

Chapter Nineteen

Books!

We stepped into another vast, high-ceilinged room. The air was cold and musty and reminded me of rotting leaves. Not an unpleasant smell at all. In fact, I felt an urge to dwell there, to curl up on the polished wooden floor and have a nap. I wiped my eyes and blinked. I had never seen such a place before.

Back home we gained our info by comp or vid and then on a small scale compared to this. It was filled from top to bottom with ancient methods of recording information and make-believe. Rows and rows of wooden ledges bulged to more than their capacity and the floor was all but concealed with books that had fallen from their perch.

“Books! Real and tangible. I had thought it a myth and yarn that such things still abided in our time,” I said.

“Books, indeed. All that is left from the last wasteoftime war. I thought only a few remained. This sight overwhelms me indeed. How come there are so many?” Eadgard said.

Brother Dominic smoothed down his long beard, put his hands behind his back and spoke. “Over two hundred years ago, when the Agros first came to power and set about fulfilling their corrupt manifesto, they ordered the destruction of all reading materials. Our dear Brothers saved what they could and hid them until this wondrous place was built. Then brought them here.”

“Wow! This has existed for that many orbits?”
 

“Indeed it has.”

“Who built it all?”

“Our very own order of St Anthony of Padua. And before you ask, he is the patron saint of lost things. We engaged people deep with belief in God and the preservation of mankind’s past. Of course, it helped that they were specialist architects and construction workers. You look disappointed. Did you expect a more spiritual answer?”

“Well, maybe something more obscure.”

“Adara, do not pout and spoil that pretty face of yours.”

Wirt giggled at the monk’s words and I confess to giving over to the pink when Marcellus copped a gander at my somewhat stocky frame. I gave the floor a scrutiny until said heat was past and when I lifted my head, saw Eadgard smiling fondly at me.

Brother Dominic held out his hand. “Come.”

But before I could tell him to go “huff himself,” out from behind a stack of books as tall as Marcellus and more, appeared a lady monk like the ones we saw in the place of sitting down. She put her finger to her lips.

BOOK: Echoes from the Lost Ones
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