Scorched Earth: A Future History of Planet Earth

by Walter D. Petrovic

CHAPTER FIVE

The days passed.

The streets of Pomperaque were silent for most part and only now the people were slowly recovering from the ordeal that was brought on them by the rain.

Lloyd, too, was recovering for several days, ever since Dearborne and Boy dragged him home. Now he strolled from room to room and through the hallways, stretching his stiffened legs and getting to know his new surroundings.

He wore an ivory-coloured frock and a black puma-fur vest, over which a long, dark-blue cape hung down, to keep him warm. The day was oddly cool and cloudy and some feared that the rains would fall again. Others, however, knew that this wouldn't happen. The rains hardly ever fell again after a few days of warmth and clear skies that followed the first and usually last rain.

Lloyd stopped at the end of the hallway, and looked out the window at the panoramic view of the city of Pomperaque. Everything was dry, including the distant farm terraces.

One would never believe that rain fell in the city because the rich land soaked up the water and dispersed the rain's potency into the vegetation, which already seemed to be a meter taller than what it was a few days before.

People were in the streets. They worked in groups of five or ten, called Keys. They were pulling up unwanted weeds and grasses from the hard ground and from around the buildings. Although the rain had blessed the crops and forests, with quick growth, it also cursed the city-people with the task of removing the unwanted, thick undergrowth from the streets. That job sometimes took them several days to complete. They threw the extracted vegetation into carts and hauled them over to the organic recycling factories, outside the city.

He looked straight ahead and saw the great Halls Cathedral, standing tall and solitary atop the butte, on the other side of the valley. That lovely valley had many stone and mud buildings, in rows on the different levels of ground that at one time served as agricultural land. Right in between him and Halls was the town square where just a few days ago, he nearly joined his ancestors. Now, for the first time, he saw the enormous distance to which Dearborne and Boy had to drag him; secreting him, to the Blue Mansion. The feat induced a respect in him, for his frail-looking hostess. That lady that had as much courage, as she had beauty.

Down the hallway, from where he came, he heard a noise and turned around to see what it was. One of the chambermaids went into the room, that was his to recuperate in, to clean it and change the bedding.

Coming from behind her, towards Lloyd, was Boy. His walk had just a suggestion of purpose as he neared the man that he and Dearborne had rescued from death.

"Good morning, sir!" said Boy, while still quite far from him.

Lloyd smiled and returned the salutation, allowing Boy to give him the message that he obviously carried with him.

"My Lord requested me to take you to his private room, sir!"

"Right away?" asked Lloyd.

"Yes, sir. If it pleases you?" continued Boy. "Very well, my lad, lead the way!" Lloyd accepted and Boy guided him around the hallways and down some stairs, to Brook's private room. His viewing den.

Lloyd was astonished to see the polished walls covered with rare paintings and tapestries, and rows of statues dotted each side of the hall, separated by varying spaces.

Some of the paintings were very old indeed and Lloyd didn't even try to imagine the dates of their making, but some he did recognize immediately, as late Twentieth Century, organic-colour pictographs.

He had only seen one other such painting, and that was in the ancient great vault library, unearthed in Besten. He was impressed by the wealth of the prehistoric items that Brook chose to display, without fear of exchanging words with the great feign master of the butte.

Lloyd was greatly confused about Brook's fear of the ArchBishop. If he really was afraid.

He thought to ask his host about the thoughts that he possessed about it all.

Soon, Boy stopped walking and motioned with his hand towards two gigantic doors of oak and iron. He pounded three times on it before he opened it and allowed Lloyd to enter.

When Lloyd walked into the room, Boy closed the door and left for Dearborne's parlour. Lloyd hadn't the chance to thank him but he could see that, to Boy, it didn't make much of a difference.

Brook was sitting in his high-backed chair, in the middle of the room. His back was to the door and this seemed to be quite odd, to Lloyd, when he thought that a man who was afraid of someone, would not sit in such a way, as to lend an advantage to his opponent.

He stood at the door and looked about the room, at the far curtained wall, the huge cabinet, the statues and several musical instruments in the far corner.

"Come in and make yourself comfortable." said Brook.

"Thank-you, my Lord!" he answered, and from beside the doors, with his stronger hand, pulled a tall wooden stool to the Lord's chair.

Brook looked at him with a smile and welcoming face and Lloyd pointed to the musical instruments and smiled.

"You play music?"

"No!" answered Brook and continued. "No! They were my brother's. He played, and beautifully. It was like the great God had entered his hands and his voice filled the walls of this place as if it were made up of the voices of a hundred seraphims. When he departed, these stayed as a reminder to us all of Manguino's goodness." Lloyd couldn't decide the meaning behind those feelings expressed by Brook. His words impressed with thoughts of sorrow, respect and praise, and yet his tone was utterly opposite to them, and seemed as if it were being subdued by him.

There was no mention yet, why Brook called him to his side and he didn't think that it was to talk about the memory of his brother. Then he remembered that Brook offered to show him some materials of knowledge from the Twentieth Century and about the past millennia, when he recovered.

He looked at the shelves of books adjacent to the cabinet and along the wall to the left of the entrance. However, all the books on the shelves were of this age; by poets and literary artists like Maxxwel, Bothelli, Croii, Lapinz and Argynossti. There were no encyclopedias or such books from antiquity and Lloyd grew alarmed and wary.

"You were going to show me some things that you have about the ancient land?" asked Lloyd.

Brook smiled and winked at him.

"My, you are eager, aren't you?"

Lloyd remained quiet and Brook started to show him the promised antiquities.

"Look around you, Lloyd. The knowledge within these pages will never again be conceived by man's mind, and they will be forgotten, if suppression is continued by that almighty megalomaniac."

"But, my Lord, all these writers are from our own time." stated
Brook's guest.

Brooked grinned, touched his shoulder and pointed to one of the books on the shelf behind him.

"Look inside that book!"

Lloyd looked at the shelf and grabbed for the book. He glanced at Brook to make certain that he took the correct one and Brook nodded, still smiling. With his eyes, he motioned for Lloyd to look inside.

Lloyd eyed the title and his face showed frustration, as his voice rose in annoyance.

"You joke, my Lord! This is poetry. 'Djenaud Smarte" … it's not even very good poetry!"

"Look inside." Brook ordered once more. "I never imagined you to get annoyed so easily … maybe you are afraid — or untrusting?"

Brook's words seemed to cut deeply into Lloyd's conscience. For a brief moment he had forgotten that he was saved from sure death by those of this household.

He quietly opened the book and thumbed through a few pages. His eyes finally flamed as he read the actual title page: "ELEMENTS OF DEMOCRACY".

Lloyd looked up at Brook in silent apology.

"All these books are like this one!" Lloyd stated with certainty, but lost his countenance when Brook confessed to him.

"No. Unfortunately, there are just a handful scattered throughout the others here. But I do have one book that surpasses them all. That one, the one I have hidden, is my prize. However, there are other things that I want to show you first!" and he rose from his chair and moved to the cabinets. When he reached them, he turned and showed his key to Lloyd before he unlocked and opened the doors.

"Yes, my friend … I have much to show you. And I suppose that this one would be the best to show to you first." The doors of the cabinet flew open. Lloyd's eyes fixed themselves into a stare on the rows of buttons and meters, marked with numbers and letters — some with familiar and other with unfamiliar symbols.

In the centre of the unit's structure hung a flat, dark-glassed panel, and when Brook pushed some buttons, writing began to appear across it.

'ARCHIVAL TAPE #371.4931-T
… entry - October 13, 1982.
— Planets line up in even axis, on one side of the sun.
— Earth experiences catastrophic gravity changes,
resulting in quakes and unusual tidal activity.
— Parts of many continents are submerged following
sudden ocean rise.

_ * for further information, select video record m-oo10-1982."

Brook offered Lloyd to push the buttons in the select numbers on the rectangular board and then waited for results, but nothing happened. Brook then turned him around to the wall opposite them, that was draped with a large dark curtain.

"The curtain will move to reveal pictures that move." explained Brook.

Lloyd watched the wall and the drapes covering it, pull back, into the corners. On the wall, he saw the large white screen and moving pictures that he recognized as ancient video tape.

From the cabinet came a man's voice and pictures on the wall, matched what the voice was describing.

'Shuttles were sent into deep space to record the phenomenon of the planets, in our solar system, aligning on the same side of our sun. The world watched as the planets drew closer in their conjunction and in their gravitational resistances, every one of the planets experienced their own fatalities.'

In the utmost quiet did Brook and Lloyd stand there listening to the tinny voice.

'Mercury began to rotate in quick revolutions and Venus experienced a contrary orbit, and fire storms engulfed its surface. On Earth, ocean levels rose and fell drastically with every passing hour, and the land was disrupted by quakes and great upheavals as the planet changed in its polarity. Soon thereafter, the surface was pounded by thousands of small but devastating asteroids.'

The men couldn't believe the sights that were being presented to them, and they couldn't decide what was more terrifying — the descriptions or the actual pictures of the cataclysm.

'Volcanic eruptions broke the surface of Mars. Jupiter's red spot increased in size until it covered the planet's entire centre. Saturn increased in its tilt towards the sun. Uranus wobbled like a balloon in a breeze and Neptune captured Pluto and its moon Charon, claiming them as its own.'

"This is truly remarkable!" said Lloyd, his expression was bewildered like Boy's usually was. He smiled at Brook, and Brook tipped his head towards the screen, telling Lloyd with his actions to keep watching. He did.

The strange voice undulated from the cabinet, as more moving images were vomited onto the screen. The voice made a commentary on the Earth's people joining together, to dig themselves out of the solar cataclysm of 1982. Then the screen went blank and immediately a drone came from the cabinet, and more writing was printing out onto the black-glassed panel.

'ARCHIVAL TAPE #371.5039-D

… June 5, 1986
— As it has been feared for three decades, the final
conflict has happened.
— Following their defeat from the Chinese, in May,
the Soviets flowed south into the Middle-East, and
laid seige to Jerusalem, after a great battle on
the plains of Megiddo. As it was Biblically
prophesied, Armageddon had come to pass.

— * for more information, select video record OA-06-1986.'

Brook punched up more video playback and taped images continued. The pictures showed people in massive exodus, heading for the highest mountains that the could reach. They tried to find some kind of shelter from the radiation fallout because, the two great nations: China and the United States of America, foolishly agreed to the use of limited nuclear warfare.

Then, on the screen, there were cities falling into piles of rubble, after they were hit by missiles.

People were in confusion over the horrible death. The excited commentator explained the state of tension in the world and made the situation sound hopeless. His message was, that the end had come.

The screen went blank and silence hung over the room, giving a cold and eerie feeling to both men.

"Every time, it is the same for me!" Brook admitted. "My heart is torn apart at the pains that I see."

Lloyd's in awe expression had left him. He too felt as Brook did, full of sorrow and anger.

"If only there was some way to change what had happened." he remarked, and slowly shifted back to Brook.

"They were supposed to be civilized. They could have prevented that war but instead they chose to rid their problems by trying total genocide. They accumulated great knowledge and possessed god-like powers through their machines. But they used the earth as their toy, until, like infants, they broke it."

Lloyd sat down, removed and folded his cape over the back of Brook's chair. Silence held both men as they collected their thoughts, forcing into their own hearts a coldness of indifference to what they observed.

Lloyd shattered the annoying silence between them as he stood up and went to Brook, by his cabinets.

"What do you call this machine, my Lord?"

"I do not know the actual name, but I call it my gadget. My father gave this one to me and told me of a hollow mountain, where there is one that is much greater. Unfortunately, the ArchBishop has one, too."

Lloyd, calmer now, watched the projected images of the destruction and misery with Brook. He revealed that they also have gadgets like this one, in Besten. It was yet another artifact unearthed from the vault library, there.

"The ancient peoples called them computers, I believe. Knowledge could be given to it and later, one could retrieve it again, if needed. The Prominants of Besten had only just begun to understand their workings and uses, when the ArchBishop banned trade with us. So we had to divert our attentions to becoming self-sufficient."

Lloyd pushed some buttons on the flat key pad and the black-glass panel displayed some more words. The white screen again showed the rapid images. The growth of human life and their transportation, throughout the suppressed history of their people (up to the Twentieth Century). All this flashed by in a matter of minutes.

Lloyd and Brook resumed their conference while they watched the screen.

"Maybe he heard about the excavation and what was found. Maybe this frightened him." Brook considered.

"If so, then why did he impose the embargo on us? Surely he'd know that would only infuriate us; and if we did have something to hurt his power with, do you suppose that we'd hesitate to use it?"

Brook shrugged unknowingly and smiled as he delivered a quick-witted answer.

"I didn't say that he was a smart man!" he said, then they both laughed.

Soon, the note of conversation once again became serious.

"Why hasn't he tried to destroy your computer?" asked Lloyd.

"He knows that I won't use it!"

Lloyd was confused by Brook's reply, and Brook explained to Lloyd his reason for not using the computer against the ArchBishop.

"My people would not be able to understand this machine. So, if I were to use it against the ArchBishop, he would surely turn around and call me an evil sorcerer, out to befuddle and possess the citizens' minds and souls."

"But the people," Lloyd interrupted, "They know you well and they look up to you. Certainly they would like to see the Almighty thrown down from his authority?"

Brook shook his head and paced around.

"I have no guarantees about this and I don't want to engage in a civil war, even if indeed there are enough to back me. I do know in fact, that at least, half of Phoride will back me!" he explained, then Lloyd added.

"I am surprised that he hasn't tried to destroy it. If you were to get half of Phoride to join with you, I am certain that Besten, Virune, and even some of the Krolalin and Ohigh, would unite against that tyrant!"

What Lloyd said was true. Many of the territories would, without question, join with Brook. However, Brook explained to Lloyd that, if he did allow the other regions to join him, they too could eventually become a threat to his rule. Lloyd tried to quell Brook's fears. He promised him that the Bestenese do respect his powers and his abilities, and that they all would, with all their hearts and souls, fight to help him keep his rule. "I play weak to buy me time. To think." Brook confided. "I don't doubt that I could destroy him but it would be at the expense of too many lives. I united Upper and Lower Phoride some twenty years ago. Then, there were many that died. Now, I can't see them divided, and I will not be the instrument to cause it."

"I understand!" is all that Lloyd said, breathing out a wet sigh.

Brook weighed all his reasons for not rising up. He expressed that, if he did indeed decide to go against that pig at Halls, that evil man would have received prior knowledge of it.

"I found ears in the walls and I removed them all. Since then, I have stayed inside and made certain that there were no more intrusions or listenings. Some of his robed geese came here once, and they did try to ruin my gadgets, but they couldn't open or break into the cabinet. It is made of three strong metals and is overlaid with oak, inside and out."

Lloyd began to understand Brook's position. He is a very powerful man, successfully intimidated by petty fears. Fears as trifle as being called a blasphemer or sorcerer but most of all, the fear that the unity of Phoride would fall because of him.

Their attention was focused on the screen, at the images of flying machines. Great metal monstrosities that shrieked when they flew, and that were able to carry countless numbers of people to amy place in the whole world.

"They were remarkable, weren't they?" Lloyd admired them, proud to be descended from those who built them.

"I would think that we are the most remarkable." Brook's noting puzzled Lloyd for a moment. "Afterall, we have survived our forefathers' murder of each other!"

Lloyd smiled, realising that his Lord and master made a good point.

"Yes, I suppose that I've never thought of us in quite that way!"

The morning passed quickly while they spoke.

Brook showed Lloyd more taped recordings left for those people who may have possibly succeeded the holocaust and deluge. One of those successors was Carter Blue. He found the machine in Angaent, on his way to Pomperaque, and used it to make the city a powerful state, in itself, and so becoming its ruler and leaving it all to his own offspring.

Brook showed to Lloyd the dozens or so books from the Twentieth
Century, that dealt in a wide range of topics. Some of the books that
Brook possessed included those on Architecture, History, Mathematics,
Art and also Theology.

Lloyd was impressed by the preserved quality and the information contained within them. In just a few books, Brook had a good example of what the ancient people were like, but what Lloyd waited for, with such eager but patient anticipation, was the book that his Lord had been so mysterious about.

"I'm still amazed," Lloyd began, "to see someone with the power to save the world from a madman, lack the will-power to accomplish it."

Brook felt ashamed of his inability to show the definite power that he possessed. But to keep peace and unity in Phoride, he had no choice but to sacrifice his presence to that of the Almighty ArchBishop.

He tried to explain that to his guest, but he did not want to make himself look like a coward. He only wanted to show his caution.

"I stayed within the walls of this house. I watched for intruders who would hardly hesitate to hide little listening devices for that great weasel. After he realized the motive behind my seclusion, he stopped his spying. Later, he used my own vigilance to make me seem like a recluse. But now, my friend, I can once again walk the streets of Pomperaque because you are here to hold my place."

Lloyd, loyally bowed his head in trust-worthy acceptance, and apologised for his unjust implication that Brook was a coward. Brook forgave him for speaking so because he knew that, in his heart, Lloyd didn't really mean it.

"Providence had thrust us together. You and I, Lloyd, will work side-by-side, to return to this land its forgotten freedom and greatness. We shall teach others all that we know. This is the only way to change the ArchBishop's hold on my people."

Lloyd agreed.

His anticipation also grew to see the great book that Brook promised to show him.

Brook made his way to a shelf near the white screen. From one of these shelves he removed some books, slid a panel away and pulled out a large, dark book.

"If ever I am defeated or destroyed, you must care for this place and this book." Brook instructed.

With a silent breath, Brook made a confession to Lloyd, along with a request for a service that would take him a life-time.

"I must ask a favour of you, my friend. If I am not granted the opportunity and time to instruct Boy in what I know about the previous millennia, you must take over for me, and you both must leave this place." Brook sounded very peculiar. Lloyd wondered about that; his mind engaged in waves of thought, while he tried to explain to himself, the reason for Brook's request.

"I do not fully understand, my Lord. You want us to instruct your servant. Why?" Lloyd asked, confused by Brook's behaviour.

"Yes. We must teach all those like him and especially him because, Lloyd, Boy is my son! He will succeed me when I am gone. Which, I pray, will not be too soon."

There it was. The one great secret about his life, that he had finally confessed, and to this man, who was still nothing more than a wounded guest in him home.

Lloyd was muted. He had wondered for several days about the boy. He noticed how the boy was allowed to speak his piece, during his first night with them, but he never guessed that this was the reason for it. He waited to hear more.

"My Dearborne tried to keep this truth from me, for all these years. The boy knows, too. His grandfather taught him well, how to behave before me. But I still found out!"

Lloyd eagerly listened, for a while, forgetting about the great book that he was holding in his hands.

"He arrived here by caravan when he was nine, as a servant for Dearborne — a gift from her father, Loebh of Hennai. However, I did wonder when she was more than just pleased to see him, and then without question accepted him. I wed her in Hennai during a trade conference and the I came back here to Pomperaque to prepare for her to join me. But it was almost a year before she came here, and I didn't find out until just last year, that she gave birth to my son but didn't bring him." Brook observed Lloyd fondling the large book that he gave to him, earlier. Lloyd was deeply enthraled by the story and he wanted to hear more. For a moment he forgot about the book.

"Why didn't she bring him, or at least tell you about his existence?"

"My problem with the ArchBishop had existed long before I married her. This was the reason that I went to Hennai. I wanted to unite the smaller and independent states with Phoride but, in most part, I failed because of that almighty swine. Wile there, I met Loebh and his lovely daughter. When we met, our love was obvious to us, like an exploding star, and we married immediately. She was only sixteen and I was thirty-five but her father openly welcomed my offer of marriage. She did not object and we were wed. I revealed to her that we couldn't have children right away. I suppose that she was afraid to tell me, later."

"How did you find out?" Lloyd inquired with a sly tone.

"Loebh sent word to me last year. I don't know why he did it, but I am grateful."

Lloyd smiled and shook his head in a manner which suggested disbelief. He got up from his chair and went over to the window. He peered out and sucked in a few deep breaths of air then turned to Brook and laughed.

"You know, I came to Pomperaque for one reason; to alter the ArchBishop's mind to the trade embargo on Besten. Now, all this. It's amazing!"

Brook also laughed at Lloyd's humorous view of the way that his original mission had changed. His presence had brought Brook his freedom from staying in the Blue Mansion. All this happened after his struggle, while he tried to tell the people of Phoride about the ancients from which they were all descended.

Lloyd had become the catalyst for Brook's resurgence of strength. His presence had that special chemistry that worked Brook's will into its new power, and both men new for sure, that Brook would no longer remain in his dormant retreat.

Lloyd finally began to examine the book, feeling the quality of its cover and the raised gold lettered title. In breathless stupefaction, he commenced to read it aloud.

"THE HISTORY OF NORTH AMERICA — TO 1986 C.E.!"

"Yes. This book is the proof of the ancients, of our land, and of that great civilization before our own millennium." Brook admitted to Lloyd. He pointed at the book that Lloyd was now leafing through, and then moved to his high-backed chair and sat down. "That book can make those who are learned, at the Blaisaman, join my ways again. Eventually they will all teach for me, from that

book. That, can destroy the ArchBishop, but first I must find some who will follow it!" Lloyd smiled in awe, marvelling at what he read, and almost, as if in love with the book, he sighed a spiritual praise.

"My God!" he breathed. "This looks like it's complete, right up to the end of it all." He stopped for a moment to collect his wonderment, staying with the aghast manner that he began with. "This is greater than anything that I have ever seen. It's greater than anything that I know of in besten. With this book, my Lord, we possess the means by which to unite the whole world!" Lloyd intermittently lingered on a page, reading it aloud, then followed with the usual spellbound glance at Brook. Each time he reaffirmed that they were within reach of destroying the almighty, the ArchBishop.

Soon Brook became annoyed and in a comparable tone of voice, ordered Lloyd never again to call that maniac at Halls, the Almighty. Lloyd didn't anger. He just apologized to Brook and promised never again to do it.

"We can bring this whole continent together, under a friendly democracy. The Virgin Mountains people of Dantoga, the Virunese, the Elkinii plains people — all would join you. Somehow, I feel that even the Teniqués homosimians from the west, the Palatkan lepers, and maybe even the dual-sexed S_dash would join with you!" Lloyd's excitement filled the room, and as Brook listened to his dream, his heart also pumped the blood of freedom and unity, through his veins. He felt alive, once more.

"Everything can be, as it was for our ancient fathers. But we must not rush into this quick change. We must court the people and slowly introduce the concept to them. I don't want to destroy whatever unity we may already have. We must do it with logic, and I believe that changing the ArchBishop's embargo with your land may be the safest place to begin!"

"I agree!" said Lloyd. "Phoride doesn't receive any of our goods either, due to his insane monopoly."

Lloyd moved over to his master and friend, from the window and sat on the stool beside his chair, while he still leafed through the great book.

"I should not have allowed his embargo against Besten. It was wrong and I am sorry. I wasn't in the position to alter what was to be!" declared Brook, breathing deeply as he looked to the window at the Blue, cloudless, afternoon sky. The skies were clear and the fear of another rain had passed.

Lloyd understood Brook, now. With this understanding he told Brook not to fret and that he was thankful that Besten was an ocean port, and that they had an abundance of fish and other goods coming into the city, by that means.

"My Lord, we must fight for what we believe in. I realize that there have been many wars that the earth has seen. You, yourself, had once forcibly united Phoride and made their lives happier than what they knew." His understanding was saturated with talk of war. Brook looked right into his guest's eyes and shook his head. He did not want war.

"War shall always be, my Lord!" Lloyd was insistent.

"Maybe, but there can be revolutionary changes without battle. My father had once told me, that diplomacy was always better-sought and best fought. Only if diplomacy fails, is war necessary!" Brook explained his view to Lloyd, who was in agreement but again illustrated the futility of talk. "Always, my Lord, there is diplomacy that may prevent war, but always there are many who don't care to listen, because it may be hurtful to their own interests! To them, wealth and gain is put high above love and life!"

Slowly, the difference in their views pulled them apart, and a trivial argument began between them. Brook became emotional, and rose from his chair. He turned to Lloyd and loudly, took the dominance of his room, which lasted only a moment until Lloyd interrupted him.

"War doesn't solve a thing, no matter how it is fought. The taring up of the ground, the ripping apart of the young mens' bodies, the death … death … DEATH!" Brook built up to a frenzy giving his views. Lloyd refused them.

"The realization of wastage is understood, but as our fathers tell us; here, in this book, 'no cost is too extreme when trying to attain freedom!', and I do believe that to be so!"

Silence.

Both stared at one another with heated, flaring eyes. Their faces were contorted in strain and sweat leaked in huge droplets from their brows. Then Brook sighed and put his hand on Lloyd's shoulder. He spoke calmly.

"Young men should not be made to fight and die for the discontent and hate of the old men in power; who create a war, in the name of God, Love or Freedom. It's all an excuse to them. Can't you see that?

Lloyd didn't answer.

"Most of the ancient wars were fought because of the dislikes between the men in power. Many of the wars, in our times, were the same. Countless numbers of young men died without knowing what they were fighting for. What is worse, Lloyd, is that the common folk had suffered the most, and they weren't even supposed to be involved! Do you understand?"

Lloyd was still silent, his mouth agape and mute or reply to the truths that Brook was preaching. He nodded and bowed his head, as he surrendered his view, with a final thought.

"War is necessary, sometimes!" was all that Lloyd said.

"True, my friend! The souls of mankind burn on this hellish ball, this scorched Earth of ours. Some day we will be able to extinguish those who cause the fatal spark. Until then, I will not let my hatred of the ArchBishop, to become one of those sparks."

Throughout the afternoon, Lloyd and Brook continued to talk. Their emotions toned down somewhat, to a level of trust and friendship, and mutual exchange of knowledge.

Brook freely gave his knowledge to Lloyd without the demand of payment and Lloyd accepted it, promising that he would in turn, give it to Brook's son, and continued to instruct him until the sum of both their knowledge or until one of them was expended.

Brook taught Lloyd to use the computer and showed him the locations of the seven Omega Sub Ground Installations, strewn about the continent. These were the same installations that were abandoned several centuries ago, after civilization was reestablished on the land. Brook showed Lloyd the location of the great library vault that was still hidden near one of those installations. It was the same gigantic vault that was closed down just prior to the great holocaust. It was a vault carved deep into a mountain of solid granite, southeast of the Omega 4 - East SGI, at the head of the Krolalin range, to the north. The mountain was known to them as, Alugean.

"There's enough food there for one man to live on for half a century. If ever something happens to me, Lloyd, take the boy there. Go there and learn as much as you can, and then teach the Bestenese people, and try to teach mine. If nothing happens to me, I will send both of you there, anyway, and you will learn." Brook ended his instructions and Lloyd promised him, that when fit to travel, he would leave with Boy and not return until Boy willed it.

The day seemed short to those in the Blue Mansion. After the Lord, his Lady and their honoured guest had supped, they all retired to a parlour-like room. That room was Dearborne's equivalent to Brook's viewing-den.

She reclined in a large comfortable chair, soft and padded in cushioned splendour while she rolled some yarn into a large ball, and hummed to herself a mellow little tune.

Brook stood in the corner of the room by a small cabinet. He poured wine into some glasses and motioned to hand the glasses to Dearborne and Lloyd, who sat on a sofa near her at the window. Lloyd looked out the window at the setting sun. He watched and listened to the people coming out of their homes and heading for their evening fun-spots. They had weathered the fretting indulgences brought to them by the rain and they now behaved no differently than they had for months before the rain.

Brook, with a silent tip of his head to the beloved wife, handed her a glass of her once-favoured wine. She graciously accepted it from him and stared at the glass. Her face exposed an expression of anxiety and fear, afraid to drink, as if the glass of that delicate beverage had been laced with some kind of poison. He gave to Lloyd a glass also, breaking his concentrations of watching the columns of people below, as they headed for the centre of Pomperaque, to their taverns and theatres. The Lord lifted his glass and saluted those close to him, within the room, with a toast to freedom and unity. They echoed him.

Lloyd kept his stare on the street, and Brook was curious as to what interested his guest so much. He looked at Lloyd several times, and every time he just stared out into the street. He seemed somewhat intoxicated, although he only sipped once, at his wine.

Brook understood that Lloyd was only longing for his home in Besten.
He knew that the thoughts of his homeland and his near death, in
Pomperaque, had chilled his mind and made him dopey.

Lord Brook emptied his glass of wine and sighed, the sound of it resonated throughout the room. He spoke, imitating a burly Bestenese accent that grabbed the attention of both his lovely wife and Lloyd.

"Ah! — 'What sweet sustenance we have in our thirst, for the smooth wisp of truth found in a rose'!" said Brook, as he quoted one of Besten's most renown poets. Lloyd glanced away from the window and smile at Brook. Their rapport showed in their eyes and they didn't need to speak. Brook looked at Dearborne and saw that she didn't react to his poetry recital. Instead, she began to develop mannerisms of someone who is disgusted. He thought that she just didn't approve of his jest. Lloyd noticed a strangeness in her, too, but he thought that it wasn't his place to say anything.

"At least you don't quote that Djenaud Smarte, my Lord. You have taste!" Lloyd made ready to make some fun, if the Lord cared to jest, himself — and he did.

"Yes. Moreye was a great poet. I remember that he once jested about Smarte. He said, 'Smarte could only write if intoxicated by the aroma of a peasant's chicken-house, and that's why he lived in one'!" Brook was amused as was Lloyd. He sat up better as not to spill his drink while he laughed. He soon added to Brook's jest by conveying to him a game that he learned in Besten, while he was still young.

"We once played games in Besten. Some Elders told us that these games were very old but our own familiarities could be used to make them humorous, to us. My father, Harvard, taught me this one and I found it funny. The game goes like this. Someone appears at your door and knocks. The one inside asks, 'who is there?', the outsider answers with something and the insider asks again, the outsider's name and 'who?' Then one outside answers in a humorous manner."

To Brook, the explanation of the game, was funny enough for him, because Lloyd began to take on a nature of a lad, Boy's age. Finally, after Lloyd explained to Brook the game, he demonstrated it to him. He told Brook what to say as the insider and the joke commenced. Lloyd rapped on the wood of the chair's arm-rest, that represented the door. He then pointed to Brook.

"Who is there?" asked Brook.

"Djenaud Smarte!" Lloyd replied.

"Djenaud Smarte, who?" asked Brook again, after being cued, once more.

"Djenaud as smart as I am!" said Lloyd and he laughed.

They found this cute little game somewhat interesting and continued to play it for a while until they ran out of names that could be made fun.

Brook soon became restless, when he saw that Dearborne wasn't reacting to their humour, without even the slightest grin.

Lloyd resumed his stare out the window. His spirited smile vanished from his face as quickly as the wine vanished from his glass, that he still held in his hand.

Out on the streets were groups of children walking together. Some chewed on the intoxicating seeds of the Orumen flower. Lloyd shook his head in disenchantment just as Brook also looked out the window and saw the same.

"Sweet children playing in the streets, grow up to become hated by their own kind. And soon they grow to hate themselves!" said Brook, as he turned to Lloyd and Dearborne, then further, "Is that not so?" the room was silent.

After a quarter-hour, while she slowly and perfectly wound her yarn into a tight ball, Dearborne finally broke the silence.

"You cannot blame the children, my husband! They are all good. Only circumstances change them. The times devour their innocent little souls and burn into their hearts the hatred that grows as they do!"

Brook walked about the room and motioned to Lloyd, with his glass if he would like some more wine, and he accepted. He took Lloyd's glass and poured himself and his guest some more wine. He glanced at Dearborne's glass, but she hadn't yet taken a single swallow from it.

"I don't blame them, my love. The devil — the evil — is in all of them. They discover it during their transitions. Some of these mischievous children discover their good and their evil, and some find it to their advantage, that evil is of more benefit to them. So turns the world." Brook exclaimed to his wife and gulped his wine. He studied her for a few moments, in puzzlement, and wondered why she hadn't touched her wine. Then, as if his thoughts touched hers, she stopped rolling her yarn and put the glass to her precious lips and like a little bird, took a sip. However, Brook saw that she was not enjoying it and he worried that something was wrong, but he didn't pry her with questions. He felt that she would eventually come to him herself, when she found the time to be right for her.

Lloyd, on the couch, still peered out the window at the street. He kept an open ear to the exchange between his host and hostess, and he slowly drank his wine. In the distance he noticed some of the farmers irrigating their farm terraces with water, mechanically drawn from the Artesian reservoirs beneath the city.

Throughout the evening, from the time the sun had begun to drowse until it finally bedded-down for the night, Brook paced about the room. He was deeply into his thoughts, and he occasionally surveyed his beloved wife, Dearborne, and also his guest Lloyd. Lloyd maintained his stare out the window during this lulling tide of time. Mesmerized by the beauty of this land, he still longed to see Besten again. Brook empathized with Lloyd's sentiment and left him to it until he felt that Lloyd's thoughts, were causing him to brood and Brook did not want to see people, brooding in the house. He recognized that Dearborne was on the verge of breaking under the strain of trying to prevent her own, and he did not want to see Lloyd in a moody state.

He finally sat at the end of the couch that Lloyd was on, choosing the end closer to his wife. He stared at Dearborne, then at his other side, at Lloyd. His voice attained the quality of a seer. "The days pass too quickly, for one to hold-onto the precious moments in life, however trifle and few!" he stated with the strength of compassion, understanding and love, and in his ultimate wisdom, he imparted to those close to him a morbid idea. "We must all one day die — and may it be in peace, and with God!" When he finished, he saw a shiny tear trickle down Dearborne's flushed cheek.

She sipped at her wine once more, put it on the table in front of her and pushed it away.

Brooks and Lloyd watched as she set the drink down, and for a while, the only sounds that were heard in the parlour were that of breathing and the rustling of their clothes. He observed her and he loathed to see the torment that churned within her beautiful eyes. He finally found it within himself, to question her behaviour.

"Something troubles you, my Love? Don't you like the drink?" he asked, with worry.

Lloyd reckoned the Lady and her glass, drawing a feeble connection between them, that he thought was the reason behind her moody behaviour.

"Why don't you drink your wine, my Lady? I know of no woman in the land that dislikes rose-wine. Some may drink it more than others, but all like it!" Lloyd requested, seeing in her eyes that his observation his its mark.

She stared at her glass, her eyes burned with contempt therein, and she shrugged in utter abomination, as she, in a nauseated tone, answered her guest.

"I am quickly acquiring a distaste for it." she said, then carried on, as she met Lloyd's eyes, "I am acquiring a distaste for the rest of Phoride!"

Brook raised an eyebrow in surprise when he heard his lovely Dearborne speak so. He leaned forward and put his gentle hand, lovingly on her forearm until she set her own hand overtop of it and leered into his eyes.

"What is wrong, my love? charged Brook, growing hot with worry. Their eyes became one entity, emanating from both their minds and so joining.

Lloyd got to his feet. Still at the window, he aimlessly gaped out through its portal and added to the earlier tracings of thought regarding his intuitive lore. And, as if in riddle, he recited to Dearborne, who understood his conjecture.

"There may be certain disillusions that are regarded as factual, by some people?" he said, and she agreed.

Dearborne put her ball of yarn to one side and issued from her chair. She peered at her Brook, for a long time, apprehensive at whether or not to tell him the heavy burden that she carried within herself. She still clutched his hand. He felt her tremble like a cold little kitten, and his eyes pleased to her, to reveal her thoughts to him and gain strength from his willingness to be receptive. She told him everything.

"It is something that happened the day that I brought Lloyd to this house!" and she told him everything about Cardinal Allen's advances on her. Brook's forehead wrinkled as he listened, his brow rose, and sweat flowed from it. His lips pursed in anger, and she saw anger emanating from his eyes, along with the storms of worry there, also. Lloyd was poised, still listening to her. "He later assured me that this was not so and I apologized. I don't know why!" her voice quivered as she began to cry. "I don't know why?"

She carried on, repeating that she didn't know why she had apologized. Her words became snarled under her gasps of breath. Lloyd stepped towards her, to give assistance and Brook embraced her tightly trying to impart to her his stalwart volition.

"That Devil's dog has soiled your spirit! He shall pay. He shall never corrupt again!" promised Brook.

"He did nothing to me," Dearborne admits. "It's only what he had said to me when I was drinking my rose wine … how a woman is hot-blooded towards her lover if she drinks from the rose." she continued to cry while she held on to Brook as if he was a cliff and beneath her was a bottomless void. "Now I cannot enjoy wine, and my mind is frightened of him!"

Lloyd was quiet. He watched Brook's attempts to sedate his Lady. Through Lady Dearborne's words and actions, Lloyd now grasped the full meaning of the struggle and pains in the hearts of those who saved his life.

"I understand, now, my Lord!" Lloyd ejaculated in prehension. "The perversities from mind, to body, to earth. The almi … the evil ArchBishop's salvation of the world is DAMNATION!"

"Now you know why I need you to help me, in my cause. Even after I am gone! You know why you must … teach … all that we know — " Brook appealed knowing the assured outcome to his requests.

"Yes!" was all that Lloyd answered with. It was enough and clear, and proved his loyal promise to one man's vision of freedom and unity.

"You will be alright, my love!" Brook promised Dearborne. "Telling me frees you from your trials. Rest easy now! Lloyd will stay with you. I must go and sort this incident in my mind. I must prepare myself to confront that miscreant at Halls." he touched Lloyd's arm and without words asked him to keep Dearborne company while he retired to his thoughts. Lloyd complied.

Brook kissed Dearborne and with his hand, gently wiped some of the tears from her face, then without further delay, left the room for his den.

Shortly after Brook left their presence, Lloyd and Dearborne quietly sat on the couch and when she finally stopped crying, she thanked Lloyd for being so good in staying with her. Lloyd promised that he was pleased to serve her and that he could never fully repay her entire household for their help in rescuing him from his near fatality in the square.

She was quiet for the longest time. Lloyd remained beside her, also quiet. His manners dictated to him to be polite and not question her thoughts, but after some time of quiet meditation, she requested of Lloyd to be a judge on her actions in telling Brook about what had happened between her and the Cardinal Allen.

He thought for a few moments and told her not to fret because she did, indeed, do what was necessary. He told her that her husband had the right to know about some perverse chancre of a man, who had practised his lechery on her.

"I am glad that I told him this!" she admitted. She felt much better and less guilty from fear that she was an inspiring factor; that she was the cause for the lecher to come forth to her as if she were a harlot. She continued. "I don't know that I should've told him now. Maybe earlier would've been better. I was frightened. I did not want to see him confront the ArchBishop out of rage, for my sake. I did not want to leave this house for that reason!"

Lloyd touched her reassuringly and in a soft but powerful voice, lifted this new burden from her mind. He soothed her fear of Brook's confrontation with the ArchBishop.

"Don't worry, Lady! He will be careful with that vermin. He has motivation, now, to release Besten from the economic blockade, and he has his personal grievances to settle. The ArchBishop will not know how to cope!"

"My husband is brave, Master Bartlet. Because of you … because of myself and because of all those like our Boy, I see him in the throws of changing this entire land."

More silence crept into the room. Dearborne was turned towards Lloyd, her face filled with an enigma that wanted to break free from her. He knew that in her heart, she had something else that was very, very important for him to know. In recent days that passed, he had seen it in her face. Now, however, it was most prevalent and in their intimate, profound faith, in one another's trust, she finally gave him her private testimony.

"I must tell you something, Lloyd."

"Your servant, my Lady."

"I see our lives closing-in on us, in this place. You, my loyal confident, must carry on for Brook, for us, if something evil occurs!" she made a familiar request to him.

"I understand, my Lady!" he replied.

"I wish that you really do." she stopped for a second to collect her thoughts and courage. "I pray that you keep what I now have to tall you, private and between us!" she said. Lloyd waited in anticipation, guessing at what she was going to tell him. "Our servant, Boy, is Brook's and mine, natural son." she finished and observed a trifle grin spread over Lloyd's face. Somehow, he had anticipated correctly, and he felt himself to be the most privileged of men, to have such high trust and confidence bestowed on him. A fortunate man, who not more than a week ago was dragged into their house, a near-dead stranger. He nodded his head to her, and took her hands into his own.

"Yes! I was curious about the similarity in his appearance to him and Brook! I wondered at the worry that you both expressed in him, the evening of the rain, and also the privileges that you both indulge him with."

Lloyd, however, did not tell her that he already knew that which she had told him. As before, he found that it was not his place to inform on that which should be done by someone closer.

"You will stay here, won't you?"

"I will, for as long as I am permitted, my Lady. I do owe my life!"

She thanked the eternal God that they were blessed with this man's presence in their home, and then commenced to tell him more about Boy and the fact that Brook didn't know that Boy was his son.

"He was born Boyce Loebh Scullion-Blue, in my father's land of Hennai." she revealed to Lloyd, and he listened with interest to, the already familiar parable.