Lovers of Babel (9 page)

This is not an autobiographical tale nor is it a fable. This is a war story that is 32
0,000 years in the making. I am here to tell it because I am the only one left of my kind that is willing to tell the truth. Oh, but the truth is not for the faint-hearted. I am telling this story with targets on my back, but the truth is the only thing that can separate a depraved man from his freedom. The truth is what is keeping me alive and so many of my comrades who I’ve met along the way. Although I will tell my story plainly, the truth will be bizarre and will shake the foundation of your hearts, but please I implore you, listen.

Learning hexes was a part of a creator’s necessary education. We went to schools like they did in the old age, but only in Equinox the school buildings are a manifestation of someone’s imagination come to life. In fact, all the buildings were created out of thin air. Our courses ranged from geometry to history with some type of performing arts in between. The course that every kid creator loved, however, was Hexing. In this class we were taught how to use our eyes and imaginations to create objects out of nowhere. There were also classes for those who possessed different powers. Some people could transform themselves with just a thought, and others could teleport to different places in a matter of seconds. Those powers were great in their own right, but it was understood among the
Equinoxians that the creators were the most powerful. We could use our minds to create things out of thin air and some of the more skilled creators could even change particular environments. This might seem impossible to you now, but our abilities were explained to us in this way: when the tri-lunar equinox happened in 2112 it released an abundance of energy into our atmosphere and into those born after the apocalypse. This allowed humans to interact with their environment like never before. We were able to create our own realities, change our phenotypes, and travel long distances within seconds. We could manipulate our environment to whatever our imaginations summoned. We were gods.

Well, at least it seemed that way. Celestial beings don’t have to go to school to strengthen their abilities, but we did. My father, leader
Amias Riley, developed power schools for those second and third generation Equinoxians who were able to afford this higher education.

I was five when my parents sent me to power
school. In order to be accepted into the school, parents had to have a large amount of credits and only those families who were specifically chosen could be invited to attend. Since I am the daughter of Amias, the leader of the new world and headmaster of all power schools, I got the first invite for elementary school. I remember the day I received the invitation like it just happened.

  My parents and I had just gotten home from visiting the Museum of Lost Artifacts in Senegal.
We lived in a posh gated community in northern New Washington where every house was painted in a soft pastel making the place look like a sea of flowers. Our house was lavender and was the biggest in the community.

I remember being so excited about traveling to Africa because we got to
use my mom’s teleporting abilities. Through enough practice she discovered a way to bring other people with her on her teleport. We would have to stand in a circle holding hands and my mother would close her eyes, then violà, we were there. The Lost Artifacts Museum contained lots of ancient objects that were found after the apocalypse. Some things were still intact and others were partially destroyed. I remember seeing an old 21
st
century Hummer vehicle and wondered how they got a car that big to move. While we were in Senegal we also went on an African safari. The animals were so close to our tour jeep that I clung to my father for protection. This was one of the last times I can remember actually feeling safe around him.

Once our vacation was over we were back in Washington in our living room as if we had only been gone for a few hours. I was sitting on the floor in front of the
hologram set that was showing a commercial for the galactic amusement park and playing with my transformer doll, when suddenly a silver blob appeared floating in front of me. I reached out and touched it with my finger and it was cold and gooey. I immediately brought it to my father so he could inspect the object. Although he was the headmaster of Power School he had no part in the invitation process. This was all the work of the school board.  He placed it on the dining room table and we stood there watching it and waiting for something to happen. Then, it began to grow. We stood back in awe of what was happening before us. It began to expand more and then stopped. Then it began to speak softly to us. It said,

“’Parents of Sage, this is your formal invitation to enter your daughter in elementary power school. Here, Sage will learn to develop her powers so that she may become one of the best 3
rd
generation creators that this earth has to offer. She will also study the fundamentals as well, however; in power school the focus will be on hexing. We are proud to offer the daughter of Mr. Riley a place in this prestigious academy. If you choose to seek higher education for your daughter she must depart within 24 hours. We must keep the location secret from the naturals and other outsiders in order to protect our students. So, to find the school you must follow me in your hover car. We will depart in a day.’”

Then the blob collapsed into a tiny droplet of mercury. We didn’t need a day to decide whether I was going or not. My father was ecstatic about it. He had dreamt of the day that his first born would be able to take his place
as leader, and the fact that I had the opportunity to advance my powers further than his own, made him all the more eager to send me off. My mother on the other hand, was not so keen on sending her five-year-old to some unknown place by herself for a year of schooling. She preferred that I go to a normal school in town and have a normal childhood. Sure I would have powers, but they wouldn’t be the center of my life. Despite my mother’s old fashioned plan for me, my father’s authority trumped her simple aspirations for my future. My suitcase was practically already packed.

I’m not sure if I would’ve ha
ted the life that my mother wanted for me. I wouldn’t have had so much responsibility and pressure to improve my powers.  Still, if I had grown up a simple girl I wouldn’t have a reason to investigate some of the secrets of our beginnings and I also wouldn’t have met my friends.

T
he next day my parents and I got dressed and ready for the journey to Power School. The blob was already inflated and hovering by the door when we reached the living room. We loaded into our black hover car and followed the blob as it sped through New Washington like a pinball. Once we got to the outskirts of the city, the blob ascended higher up into the sky. We were now amongst the colorful clouds, much higher than a domestic car usually flew. We traveled for hours and hours until finally the school appeared in the distance. From the outside, the school seemed to have no windows. It was huge, round and silver and it sat on top of a body of water. It appeared to float there. The blob zoomed away from us and disappeared into the liquid structure of the school building. Thousands of blobs from all different directions were flying into the school in the same way. They looked like drops of mercury coming together to join one giant blob. The school was sitting in the middle of the ocean where there was not another building in sight, except for the other two smaller replicas sitting on either side of the main structure. We landed our car in the water right in front of the sphere building. We waited a while to see what we should do next. We saw other cars that were on the water drive into the building and disappear. My father decided to do the same. We began to drive toward what looked like a shiny silver wall. I braced myself and my mom shrieked as we collided into the structure and came out on the other side as if nothing happened. I looked behind us and saw the ocean.

In front of us was a city filled with all sorts of people walking along the sidewalks chatting about the day’s events.
The city looked like autumn in New York. The few times I visited I remembered the different colored trees that lined the streets to decorate the environment with subtle beauty. This place looked like something out of the old world in its simplicity, but I could tell there was something magical about it.

We exited the car with my luggage and began walking toward the crowded city. When we arrived at the middle of the square I saw a wealth of book stores lining the street. There were so many
types of bookstores, from children’s books to geology textbooks. No two stores were alike. The people in scarves and sweaters were going in and out of stores some carrying books and others reading them along the way. We walked further down the street and there in front of us stood a red brick building with the words:
The Power Society
in big letters above the front doors
.
As we entered the elaborate building I noticed moving murals on the grand ceiling and marble floors. My parents were too busy looking for someone to direct us to the school to notice. Finally, a fair-skinned woman with round eyes appeared before us.

“Mr. Riley
and family, it is a delight to have you here. I trust it wasn’t too hard finding us. We like for first-timers to get a personal perspective of the city,” she said with an Icelandic accent.

“
This
is a city?” My mother asked.

“Oh, have you never been here before? Aren’t you wife of the headmaster of all power schools?”

“Yes, but my husband has never taken me on a tour,” my mom gave my father a look.

“Well I’m sure there’s a good reason for that,” the woman replied nervously.

“I wish I could’ve visited a long time ago,” my mom said while looking above her at the floating clouds. “Since there are clouds inside, does it ever
rain
inside the society?” The question sounded absurd.

“Only if there’s a reason.
The last time it rained, one of our most precious artifacts from the old age, a 20
th
century book, was stolen from the power society library. It was the oldest thing to ever enter the new world,” she said.

“ It
happened about five years ago,” my father added. “We’re still looking for it.”

My mother looked at him
as if wanting to ask more questions about the stolen book, but our tour guide interrupted.

“Now who is this little bundle of joy all nice and snug in her coat?” The woman bent down to talk to me.

“I’m Sage,” I said shyly.

“Well Sage we’ve got lots of fun and adventure planned for you so don’t be afraid of leaving mommy and daddy for a while. We’re going to take good care of you,” the fair woman said.

She stood up to address my parents.

“If you will follow me I will show you to the dormitory where she’ll be sleeping.” She walked briskly through the elegant lobby and down a long hallway with various pictures hanging on the walls of old people looking serious.
We struggled to keep up. When we finally reached the end of the hallway there were two large staircases on both sides of the room that lead to the top floor where the living quarters were.

“There are about six dozen of these
dormitories with four chamber mates in each chamber.” She explained as we walked up the left staircase.

As we made our way up the last set of stairs we could see a large room
with antique tables and couches in the middle where the staircases met.

“Here we have a reading room for the children. There are a dozen of these here in the elementary chambers,” she said.

She then continued leading us into another long hallway to the left of the reading room. This time the walls had the ocean painted on each side. The faster we walked the more the water would sway.

“This is one of our top professor’s masterpieces,” she said pointing at the wall. “He was the first creator to ever successfully create something that was suspended in animation without needing to keep a watchful eye on it.”

              My parents looked thoroughly impressed. I was lost, but I loved this place. This was a kid’s dream house. The hallway led us to a large room with four child size doors, two on each side. In the middle of the room there was a fireplace, two couches, and an Indian rug. There was a large wooden chest in the corner of the room that I suspected was for toys and games.

“Here
is her living quarters. She will be sharing this space with three other girls.” She brought out a key from her pocket and unlocked the door on the right in the left corner.

“This will be
her own personal living space.”

I looked up at my father before entering. “Go on it’s yours,” he said lightly nudging me.

The room was larger than I expected given that the door was so small. A crystal chandelier lit the room from the top. There was a pink bed by the round window that looked out toward a grassy field. There was a tall blue cabinet on the other side of the room for my clothes. There were two small white chairs and a round white table by my bed that could be used for pretend tea time. There was also a bathroom, small floral vanity, small bookshelf, desk, and mini wireless refrigerator. I looked around in awe at my new home. Then I noticed something peculiar sitting on the bed. It looked like some kind of rope with a tag hanging from it.