Read A Paradox in Retrograde Online
Authors: John Faherty
After a short walk through the agora accompanied by a good
number of their contingent, they came upon the central tower of
Breideblic looming high above the other buildings clustered
there. Standing before the tall wooden doors that marked the entrance of the great building they paused to complete some symbolic or religious gesture. Xora commented, "It is a prayer for
good omens for no one should look upon the oracle light heartedly." The large doors swung open easily to reveal the interior of
this fine building seemingly painted in a lustrous sheen akin to
pearls and diamonds and adorned with all manner of carvings
made from the most precious materials. They entered into a grand
portico and from there he was escorted by Xora as a lone attendant into the darkened inner sanctum. There behind a finely
woven floating tapestry he was made witness to the most delicate
and ornate creation of art he had ever seen. There stood a chamber of crystal that glowed with its own light. Seemingly cut from
a single crystal it was not only a singular work of art but, as he
would soon learn a masterwork of sublime engineering.
All he had seen until that point had been derivative and their culture as a whole was seemingly pieced together from borrowed
parts. However this technology before him was advanced even
farther than his own. He watched as images flashed across the
surface and sounds echoed from within. "These were no mere
projections there was something akin to living thought present."
He looked at her in surprise and asked, "Where did you discover
this place?" The lady Xora attempted to answer as best she could.
"I will answer this question of yours with a story. Long ago by
nature, our people were forced from their former lands. By necessity we were made to find a new one. For the greater part of a
generation in a great flotilla we roved the seas like vagabonds, in
search of a new home. Early on at every landfall our meager
ships, some filled with the sick and dying were turned away.
Just as our hopes would were diminishing we by fortune were
delivered onto this land. Our journey came to its final ending
here on this shore. In a great storm our battered ships were
tossed. During the storm one of our intrepid captains spied
through the darkness a shining light. The order was given for the
ships to move in close as the light was perceived as signal of
safe landing. Before the next day had dawned, the ships had run
aground upon the rocky coast. Miraculously not a soul was lost.
This was taken as a clear sign of our salvation. With the ships
mostly destroyed we set out to make this place our home. In the
full light of day here on this spot we were delivered this great
boon. Since that time this great object known to us as the crystal
room, has been venerated as a gift from God. Since that time we
have prospered greatly. From then till this present time we have
been masters of the seas thanks to the guidance of the crystal
room."
"Over the centuries we have had to defend that which is both
our symbol and savior, from others who would attempt to benefit from its wisdom. That is the fable and the history of it; however now as we have lived in relative peace it serves as a repository of our cultural and historical knowledge. Tuned like a musical instrument it is designed to hold indefinitely the unique oscillating frequencies that are fed into it. Through meditation one
can sift through the cacophony and become one with any element of knowledge you so desire. It is easy to see how this
could have helped our ancestors. With each encounter its database of experience grows deeper." Ananda tried to focus on
sounds that to him resembled the wind chimes of his youth, but
soon became disoriented and nauseous as the air around him
then seemed to vibrate. He had in fact become overwhelmed by
waves of thoughts and images that had rolled unrecognized over
his consciousness. Sensing his distress Xora said, "May I assist
you?" he nodded his approval. With a ceremonial gesture and by
the power of her mind she narrowed the focus of the emanations
to match those for the capacity of a child's. And then she said,
"You may ask your question now."
Ananda stood pressing against his temples and his mind wandered. Soon he was relaxed as the sounds of the chimes spoke to
his mind and nestled him softly into a state more pliable to suggestion. Once there the chords of his imagination were plucked in
such a way as to render thoughts as sensations and a stream of
imagery that filled his consciousness. Her voice again entered
within the sphere in which he found himself and she was brought
to his attention "The reactions elicited by the device are visceral
in that the recipient often felt in a real sense as if the experiences
were his own and not mere echoes. Do you have a question?"
She with a puzzled look about her said, "Sea legs? He put a
thought to her query and the explanation was made evident to her
without the exchange of a word. "Ah I see" she said, "Of course,
it seems you have gotten quite steady. You're getting the hang of
it." "How does it work?" He asked. His mind welled with schematics, images and simple diagrams while text was read aloud to
him. He then began to feel as if he were living within the skin of
another, sensing their emotions and sensations. "Wow that is
quite an unusual sensation," he said abruptly.
"That was the inventor of this device; He was the very first
among us to imprint them self upon the crystal." Another voice
came to them but it had the quality of an echo or a ghost not a
true consciousness. "I am James. I too am lost here, a prisoner in
time. For untold generations I have lived only to help answer
questions posed by my fellow travelers all without sensing time's
passing. It would appear that I am not really here, but here I am
nonetheless."
Ananda seemed confused and said, "Are you talking about that
voice? Perhaps I am unfamiliar with the ways of your culture,
but does that not seem a bit rude to speak of one's elders in such a
way?"
She responded with a smug smile, "I told you it is merely a malfunction." to which the voice responded solemnly, "You too
Ananda, one day may fail to see me as I truly am. For all I know
she could be right. Let us not waste any more time then, for
there is much I wish to share with you." Ananda thought it truly
odd that a disembodied persona of apparently unlimited resources, should take such an interest in some one he had just
met. "But perhaps there was more here than what was first apparent." As he pondered to himself, his thoughts began seemingly to move at the speed of light.
James reached back into to the depth of time, as he understood
it. The imagery accessed there was as fresh as the day it was recorded. Referenced and cross-referenced he searched the memories of those who had stood before him. "There are four hundred
and thirty nine references to Atlantia, a city state on the western
continent. Samantha of Atlantia made the last known entry. According to the index this entry, it is well over ten thousand years
old." There before him an Image of his beloved Samantha appeared. Though older than he recalled he could still make out
her gentle features. It seemed for a moment by some strange
alignment that her visage as if alive, had recognized that of his
image. Then as if specters in some cruel hoax the two spirits
across time reached out one to the other. As these images drew
closer a slow grumble rose up from beneath them as the room
began to shake. The intensity of this disruption was so strong as
to cause the unlikely connection to be severed. The effects of
this disturbance on Ananda left him staggering from the room.
He found himself disoriented and again in the presence of his
host, Xora. "What did you see there? She asked. Speaking with
a renewed clarity he said, "It would seem I am not the first of
my kind to reach these shores. That much is plain, however the
facts and events have not yet been made clear to me. But this
was a good start. I should like to be availed again to this repository. As for now I have grown weary. Could I suffer you to
oblige me once more?"
"The arrangements have already been made. You shallbe a
guest at my villa. I am happy to assist you in any way you like. I
hope to learn from you as well for we have not encountered
strangers from another land in some time."
Xora as the keeper of the books was fascinated by this forlorn
traveler. His strange manner and odd clothing was one thing but
the manner of his arrival was another thing entirely. Everything
about this stranger seemed to speak of a mythic nature she had
always read of, but never experienced beyond the pages of her
books. She wanted to learn as much about him as she could. She
sensed he was somehow connected to these forerunner objects.
He may even be one of them himself. So she for now would keep
a close eye on him until she could learn more about this connection.
In a pilot less conveyance they made short work of the meandering path along the rocky cliff side that marked the way to her
home high above the sea. Once there atop the plateau the vehicle
settled onto its landing pad in time for them to see the last tendrils
of daylight slip over the horizon. He stood there for a moment
and looked out onto the now featureless sea, looking for any telltale signs that might show him the way. Only the bright glint of
the sun reaching over the edge of the water could be seen. Xora
escorted him up a set of marble stairs to the guest cottage that
overlooked the cliffs. "There are clean linens on the bed. I took
the liberty of having a light meal prepared for you. I hope you
enjoy it" She bid him good night and left there with the setting
sun. He was quite hungry and quickly consumed what her servants had prepared for him. By the time he had finished his meal,
the sun had slipped away. There, sitting in his bedroom through
the window he watched as the sea seemed to shine in the moonlight. Within its cool rays the luminescent creatures feeding on
the abundant plankton created a delicate and subdued light show.
Lying down he kept this haunting image in his gaze until as if by
the seas motion he had once again drifted him to sleep.
Ananda, in a dream wandered heavily upon the plane of Thera.
There he stood awash in the debris of fallen cinders and yellow
sulfur that had rained down for days uncounted. One of the few
sounds to be heard was the soft noise of this gently falling ash.
Its incessant patter muffled all other sound save for the distant
wails of dogs and the cries of children. As he walked upon the
blanket of porous silt at his feet, the dim light filtering through
the ochre veil of the sky cast there no shadows. For sometime he
wandered. As he roved the he recognized the silhouetted hulks
that were once the familiar landmarks of his youth.
As if having been blind to the calamity, he stood staring in
shocked amazement at the wretched scene. All he could do was
wonder to what strange evil had befallen this world, once flush
with verdant olive and laurel. There too upon farmed tracts vast
fields of barley had once swayed ever so gently. Now it lay barren and lifeless, a mere echo. Observing there what was to be
seen left him with an odd feeling. He could not say for sure, but
he had a suspicion that he somehow possessed a dormant
memory. And in this memory unknown even to himself there resided a cornel of a most obscene story.
The words rose up from his subconscious mind, and again he
pushed these words from his thoughts before his mind could
again assemble them. Trudging onward through pungent clouds
that blanketed the air, he came upon a familiar place. There he
could make out the smoke tinged faces of children he seemed to
vaguely recognize. They stood there silently with the black pits of
their eyes glaring blankly. The words again welled up. He tried to
speak but the stifling clouds again descended before he could utter a word. On his tongue he rolled a sound to which his mind
was not conscious of. A word, a name if only one were to speak it
aloud the world would again come crashing down. He tried to
speak it but as his mouth moved to form the word it faded again
from his memory. Just then he was startled from this vision as
again the sound of chimes, like those he had heard in his childhood filled his thoughts. This time they resounded more distinctly
than before. He followed their sound and as he did it grew louder.
The sound then abruptly stopped. There in a clearing he came upon the darkened silhouette of a man. Recognizing his outline he
called his name. He saw again in his mind’s eye the words he had
seen emblazoned upon his capsule, and he spoke them aloud,
"Hector the King." As the name rolled off his tongue a wave of
incandescent light surrounded and consumed them both. As
quickly as it had appeared this bright glow had dimmed to an ember, and there in its place stood the silhouetted image of Hector.
The edges of his armor glinted like a coronal eclipse of an artificial sun. There seemingly the two figures were now as if forged
into one.
He leapt in panicked disarray from his slumber and fell writhing
to the floor. A moment later he awoke to find himself naked and
alone. He ran toward the billowing curtains of his open window
and screamed out in a terrible cry. Though his heart was still
thumping wildly from the visions of his dreams, it took him only
a moment to realize he had been dreaming. As this revelation began to sink in, the image of the morning sun shining through his
window filled his eyes. Its sudden appearance there, in contrast to
his dream seemed to calm him. A moment later a rap upon his
door signaled the arrival of an attendant. She announced herself
then entered the room presenting a tray of breakfast, and a change
of clothing. She found him hiding himself modestly behind the
drapery, still a bit shaken up. He was quite a sight. In fear of this
stranger she avoided the subject of his bizarre outburst that she
had heard only moments before. So in speaking to him she was
careful to avoid looking into his eyes and spoke in a reassuring
tone, "Good morning to you sir. How is the day finding you?"