Island of Echoes Page 8

  We could only observe wide-eyed as the advisor pressed one of the blue triangles of light. The grinding of the window resumed and the partition continued to lower. It ceased as soon as Sarmia’s finger released. She then touched the opposite triangle on the display, and the glass wall began to rise, slowly narrowing the gap.

  “How is this possible?” I asked quietly.

  “Join me,” King Eireas extended his hand and we all rose from the table.

  He escorted us to the window overlooking the city below. The forested capital was alive with light, white radiant light which neither flickered nor smoked. The entire city was run on electricity. Columns, pathways, domes, and windows were all brilliantly exposed amongst the darkness of the trees. My companions and I looked to each other in disbelief and I saw traces of tears welling up in Ella’s eyes.

  We stood stupefied. I stepped up to the opening in the glass, which formed a balcony of sorts, and looked down at the base of the tower. Additional lights were directed at the metallic structure, though their glow and formation made even our brightest cities appear crude and archaic. The island of Capribo was more than an isolated world; it was a world out of futurity.

  Ella put her hands to her face and wiped her eyes. “What is this place?” she whimpered softly. “Nothing here makes any sense.”

  Without thinking, I put my consoling arms around her. She was taken aback but did not pull away.

  “Please don’t cry, Ella,” I said softly, ignoring my impulsiveness. “Everything will be alright.”

  “I must apologize,” King Eireas added gently, “but I do not know how else to explain your situation to you.”

  I translated the message to my fellows and Ella straightened herself up. I saw a hint of blush in her cheeks as she stepped away and regained her composure.

  “It will not be easy for you to understand everything about our land,” Sarmia informed me, “but it is our duty as your hosts to ensure your comfort while you transition into your new lives. If you will allow it, we would like to show you exactly what has transpired since the storm which befell your vessel on the sea.”

  Despite the endless mysteries of the island, I knew that there was nothing worse now than ignorance. King Eireas led the way out of the dining chamber and we emerged into the silent hallway, now illuminated by decorative sconces which I had earlier assumed to be mere carvings. Sarmia tapped the flat black square nestled within the dark stone pillar in the hall. Just as before, the screen became covered with a fluid screen of light. Colorful pictures appeared where none were before, changing every second. I recognized some of the shapes. They were identical to the carvings above the doorways in the stairwell. If my theory was correct, I was watching some kind of electric countdown.

  The screen turned black once more and, as expected, the stone wall before us slid aside to allow us entry. The chamber within was a large cube, unfurnished though highly ornamented. Our hosts stepped inside and we hesitantly followed. The wall slid shut behind us with a grind and Sarmia pressed a pictogram within the room, one of many lining the interior. I felt the instant sensation of movement and I realized that the chamber was no secret passage but a lift, elevating us to a higher chamber within the tower.

  The door slid aside moments later and our hosts led us down an entirely different hall. We entered a small room, perhaps several stories above the dining chamber. It was not as large but the opulence within was once again unmatched. Layers of plush carpets lined the floor, an assortment of rich purples and reds. A number of long padded couches formed a crescent on one side of the room. King Eireas took a seat at the crescent’s tip and motioned us to join him.

  Sarmia walked over to the plain gray wall across from us and pressed her palm to it. The wall transformed from a flat painted surface to a crisp and clear image of the silver tower in which we sat. It was clearly a photograph, for all the traces of art were absent, though it was so vivid and detailed that I could not understand how it was taken.

  “Please do not be alarmed,” Eireas implored in his pleasant tone. “When I said you can no longer return to your world, it was not a command, but a fact.”

  I translated our hosts’ words as they spoke.

  “The storm which brought you here is a natural phenomenon,” he continued. “It was neither malicious nor directed at you, but something you were caught in by sheer accident. By now, you must have realized that the squall was atypical?”

  I confirmed with a nod.

  “We cannot fully explain why these storms happen, but we know they are related to energy coming from the sun. Several sites throughout the globe are prone to this effect, but the events are so rare that we can never study them in detail.” The King nodded to his advisor.

  Sarmia glided her finger along the wall and a series of pictograms appeared beside the image of the tower. She began pressing the miniscule images like the keys of a typewriter, though her strokes were void of any sound. Immediately, the image of the tower transformed and we were treated to a bird’s-eye view of the forested capital. Goosebumps erupted all over my arms.

  “How are they doing this?” Rémy asked and I inquired about an explanation.

  “Do you have machines which can capture visions of life?” Eireas asked.

  “We do. We call them photographs.”

  “Good,” he sounded relieved. “Think of this as many photographs taken quickly together by a flying apparatus. We can watch them so rapidly that they appear to move.”

  We were familiar with the concept, of course, but it was an altogether different experience to see it mastered before us. And we had great difficulty imagining a camera which could glide through the air. The image shifted over to one of the nearby hills and, emerging over it, was our carriage from earlier that morning. The detail was so crisp that I could even distinguish our bodies seated within. We had been captured into a moving picture as we approached the silver tower. Our hosts let us watch the miracle for several minutes before continuing their discourse.

  “Our people were overjoyed to learn of your arrival,” King Eireas explained. “We were monitoring you ever since your ship entered our sea. Arrivals are so rare that the events are cause for celebration.”

  “How did you know about us?” I asked.

  Sarmia entered some more commands and the carriage in the image began to move backward, snaking along the red cobblestone path. Her manipulation of the moving picture was extraordinary, and the camera which captured us from above followed our carriage all the way back to the great temple. I tried to remember seeing a balloon overhead, but the distinctly clear sky would have made it fairly obvious. How it was captured was a mystery. The image began to play forward from dawn at the great temple. I spotted our russet tents on the lawn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “So you took our weapons,” I deduced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “What happened to them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  CHAPTER 9

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “And did you have any luck?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Even leave?” Travert queried.

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

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

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

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

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

  “What did they say?” Travert asked.

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

  “Chypre,” he breathed.

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

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