The War Chamber (11 page)

The island city of Coronadus, a mere 24 rectangular miles of beautiful natural land and water resources, could only have been planned by an engineer of enormous skill and vision, such as Bianca's husband, Ishtar. Each and every square foot had been laid out economically and efficiently by the ocean's front, with bays and coves strategically walled in to create a triple-harbored landscape. That this exquisite city, with a sophisticated and enlightened populace, could breed an environment of mass destruction is astounding.

Yet, that is what happened. An eruption of violence and war between divergent factions created not only a civil war, but wrought a cataclysmic disaster as well. The city's land mass broke off from the core continent and drifted to an uncharted position in the cosmos.

The unredeemable losses were suffered by the people who had betrayed their destiny: lives were lost, hearts were broken, families were torn apart. For Bianca, the pain of losing her sister was exacerbated by the calamitous separation from her beloved husband Ishtar and their daughter Saliana.

Father and daughter had been on the mainland when Coronadus broke free, and all possible communication - or hope of ever being reunited with Bianca - was shattered. All the mineral resources and crystal energy that provided power to Coronadus also lay beneath the earth of the mainland leaving Coronadus impotent, technologically and spiritually.

Coronadus, with a heart-broken Bianca, drifted languidly to its final destination, an atmospheric limbo where the ocean was dead still and the air never picked up a discernible current. But the roots of eternal resurrection were imbedded deeply in the city's soul and spirit. In this leisurely state, the nature of power shifted from military, economic and technological manifestations to a tranquil, human resourcefulness.

It seemed the people had been enlightened, had learned a harsh lesson about what was of value and what was trivial. They learned to rely on their own inner power and used it to be of service to others. As they adapted to their new, simpler lifestyle, they began to cherish it. Or so Bianca thought. To her dismay, she learned that Sechmet was right: Coronadus was a time bomb ticking away, and the detonator was the appearance of the Moon Singer.

As the people now revel in the resurgence of materialism, Bianca knows that it is not enough just to allow David to sail away with the Moon Singer. Coronadans can never go back to the old way of life that seemed so perfect only hours ago. Soon, they will realize that they have been cheated, that the return of all the machines and modern devices that signify a sophisticated and progressive civilization is meaningless. Without the infinite stores of cosmic wisdom that the Mother Continent had provided, frustration and anger will swell, the fires of violence and aggression will re-ignite, and the vicious battle for possession of the great ship Moon Singer will commence.

Total destruction of the old ideas is the only answer, Bianca knows. Those that survive to be born anew will be the true Chosen Ones. They will rebuild Coronadus as a natural wonder of universal order. The children who escape with David will bring their consciousness of peace and harmony to David's home town, where the effects will resonate around the Earth and touch the lives of many.

Back in position atop the highest hill east of the city, Bianca stands, deeply entranced in a mystical mantra. She holds the miniature wood sculpture of the Moon Singer in the palm of her hand, tilted strategically upward. The tiny crystal chip, the Singer's clone, glints in the sunlight. Its reflection is glaring and blinding, traveling light years away with an incredible swiftness.

In an imperceptible instant, the crystal's electro-magnetic field combines forces with the eight heavenly bodies that once served as navigational guideposts to ancient mariners using the Wind Rose compass. Each planetary connection causes an incendiary eruption, and the potent energy forces gain momentum, acting as conduits to one other. Collectively they display a pyrotechnic rainbow-colored light show nearly unbearable to the naked eye.

The colored beams spiral through the sky, bearing down ominously toward Coronadus. The people, now distracted from their self-indulgent activities, look skyward; at first curiously, then speechless, spellbound, and finally horrified, terrified. They search frantically for an escape. There is none.

With lightning force and deafening impact, each planet's carrier wave sparks one of the eight points on the Wind Rose, and a piece of Coronadus is destroyed.

When the hot red of the Mars wave charges the northwest point on the compass, Bianca's house is the first structure to implode and dissolve into the ground. The village Emporium rumbles and shakes as Jupiter's orange laser strikes the western point, and dozens of townspeople are smashed beneath the collapsed roof, never knowing what hit them. The town square itself becomes littered with rubble as plate glass windows, walls, roofs, storefronts, and signs fracture under the golden yellow lance of Mercury tripping the southwest point.

Venus's green rays spear the compass's east point which is marked with a sacred Maltese cross. The boat sheds and the entire marina seem to self-destruct, sending wood pilings and remnants of sailing vessels hurtling through space to disintegrate in the cosmos.

None but the bold royal blue shaft of Uranus could trigger the southeasterly point and obliterate the control tower where Amony and his partners in crime attempted to usurp the Moon Singer's power for their own evil purpose.

The outdoor theatre, the defensive wall surrounding the city, the school, the library, every building explodes and falls in a heap of rubble as the unforgiving indigo force of Neptune strikes the northeastern compass point.

And with finality, Bianca targets the
fleur de lis
on the north point of the compass with the violet finger of Saturn. In a shockingly glorious flare of brilliance, the magnificent Rotunda of Evolving Consciousness, along with the dreaded War Chamber, disappears without a trace. The once-haunting sounds of suffering children are gone, replaced by a silent serenity.

All of Coronadus, and Bianca, too, have vanished, leaving behind just a whisper of moon glow.

Screaming and crying, Maati and the other children scramble on their hands and knees, hold on to one another and whatever else they can grab, as the Moon Singer rocks and sways extremely from side to side, almost dipping her rails into the boiling surf.

David's entire body threatens to give way as his chakras vibrate in concert with the force of each celestial assault on Coronadus.

His tail bone throbbing with the crimson red of Mars, David's knees buckle out from under him, but he courageously stands tall. His circulatory system is ablaze with Jupiter's orange glow and a mad rush of adrenaline sends a flash of heat through his body. When Mercury strikes, David's solar plexus is awash with a nauseating fear and he truly understands the term 'yellow belly." But he will not give in. He dare not.

The thrust of Venus pierces David's heart and the organ thumps like a green jackhammer, nearly tearing through his chest. The blue lasso of Uranus almost chokes him, but a primal scream releases from David's throat and echoes through the heavens. It is almost more than he can bear yet he summons a new wave of stamina, but knows he is near his breaking point.

Then, at last, the indigo blue of Neptune targets David's third eye, followed by the crowning of his head by Saturn's violet radiance.

It's over.

David's arms are painfully weary but something, some force other than his own physical strength, supports them. Kneeling prayer-like, David valiantly holds the Wind Rose up as an offering to God as well as devotion to Bianca, as she and the entire city of Coronadus dissolve into a mystical haze.

* * *

On the beach, Rami is running breathlessly toward the sea, wanting to throw himself in and die with dignity instead of screaming his life away. But he stumbles upon an unconscious Sokar lying on the sand with the Singer clutched in his fist. Rami pries the crystal loose and puts it in his pocket. He lifts Sokar into his arms and turns back toward the city just as an enormous wall of water sweeps in and swallows them both.

On one windward roll of the Moon Singer, a flood of bubbling water spews across the deck, bringing with it a waterlogged Sokar. A half-drowned Rami lifts his head up out of the receding wave and grabs hold of the rail.

“Take him with you, David,” Rami sputters.

David holds his stance firm, leaning into the rails to support his body while he yells at Rami to come with them. But the man goes under, disappearing from sight, then

re-emerges coughing water out of his mouth and nose.

“I can't, David. My destiny is elsewhere. But here, take the Singer. Sokar had it with him.”

“Oh, God - I can't let go of the Wind Rose! But I can't let you drown either.”

Courageously, David releases one hand from the compass and reaches toward Rami. “Grab my hand, Rami. Now!”

“I cannot reach you,” Rami cries, and holds onto the precious crystal. “I will protect the Singer as you must now protect the Wind Rose. God bless you, David. We are even.” Rami slips into the waiting sea, taking the sacred crystal with him.

With another abrupt roll of the ship, Sokar begins to slip over the side, but David lunges after him, nearly disappearing into the black water himself. He grabs onto Sokar's arm and pulls with all his might. The unconscious boy suddenly awakens and begins to thrash about in terror.

“Stop, Sokar!” David yells. “Don't fight me! I'm trying to help you.”

“No, don't! Let me die!” Sokar cries. “I don't deserve your help after what I've done!”

“Well, you're going to get it. I won't have us both go down. Maati needs you now. She has no one else!”

And neither does Sokar, David knows. He has lost his mother and now his beloved aunt. Sokar and Maati need each other, just as David and Sally need each other now that their mother is gone.

Hearing his sister and the other children scream in horror, Sokar stops fighting David and both boys try frantically to keep from drowning.

More panic-stricken than he has ever been in his life, more afraid than he had been during the near-fatal storm on the Moon Singer's maiden voyage to the Island of Darkness, David cries out to his mother, to Bianca and to God in his merciful heaven.

“Please save us all!” he cries. “Please, please take us home! Please…take us home.”

In answer to his prayers - or is the cataclysm just playing itself out? David does not know - a blue-white glow fills the sky and envelops the Moon Singer. He and Sokar slither onto the deck and lay face down, exhausted.

Overcome by a remarkable tranquility, David rises to one knee. Amazingly the Wind Rose is safe and in his clenched hand. The compass's needle spins one full revolution and holds fast on its apex point, the
fleur de lis.
Oddly, the navigation points spell out the word
QUEST
. A cool, comforting wind picks up, and the Moon Singer's sails billow out majestically.

Sokar, Maati and the other children embrace each other in relief and joy as the Moon Singer moves smoothly and gracefully on the water, gradually picks up velocity, and then ascends into the cosmos like a winged creature of light. The great, mystical ship is gloriously aflight, speeding through the darkness, gliding elegantly on a boundless river of diamonds and pearls, on to her next destination: Home, to Port Avalon.

The last thing David hears resonating through space as this latest adventure spirals away behind him is the voice of Bianca and the stunning oratory that she had prepared for David before the debate. His heart quickens, pride wells up within him, and determination finds its place again in his heart. Hearing Bianca's final words is all the impetus he needs to keep going in the face of all the adversities of his life:

“…Only a courageous heart can feel the hunger for freedom and the longing for peace. Only the eternal soul can know what nurtures and perpetuates life, and makes it meaningful. Only one who listens to the stillness and hears the song of love can know the answer to life's mysteries. In the end, it is not the winds of war that will sweep us into a harmonious world order, but the living breath of the human spirit - indomitable, unconquerable, unassailable…”

David sniffs at the leaves of grass and flower petals that lie under his nose, an involuntary response to waking up on the ground. Slowly he lifts himself up onto his hands, shaking his head to clear away the grogginess. It takes a few moments for him to orient himself to familiar surroundings, to recognize his mother's grave beneath him, her headstone, and the marble angel that looms tall overhead. For a split second, he feels a warm movement emanate from the winged creature. She touches her feet down on the pedestal with the delicateness of a dove landing on a tree branch, then elegantly folds her wings behind her. Now she is motionless; regal, divine, cold stone.

“I must be dreaming,” David murmurs.

He runs his fingers through his hair in a gesture of full awakening. As his fingers brush by his ear he notices his hearing aid is gone. Still sitting on his haunches, he looks for it on the ground but it isn't in sight. He raises himself up; then, where he had been sitting, he sees what looks like a large medallion. He picks it up to examine it.

It is a compass of some kind, but completely unlike any compass he has ever seen before. The background design is ornate and looks something like an antique rose pattern, with brilliant blue, red and gold markings. The needle is stuck on a position marked QUEST, and never moves even when David rotates the instrument in his hand.

“Where did this come from?” David wonders aloud, surprised but pleased for such a lucky find.

Looking down, David's eye catches sight of his hearing aid in the grass. He grabs it up, cleans it on his shirt, but decides it's not sanitary enough to place in his ear, so he pockets it in his shirt. His crystals, too, are there on the ground, still arranged in the Star of David grid, but the apex crystal - the Singer - is missing. He collects the colored stones and shoves them in his pants pockets. “Where is the Singer?” he muses aloud. Shrugging it off he tells himself, “Well, it's not important anyway. Just a rock.”

Still holding the compass in his hand, David leaves the cemetery in a slow contemplative stride. His memory is a blank as to what happened before he awoke. He can't imagine why he was sleeping by his mother's grave, or if “sleeping” accurately describes what he had been doing.

Why don't I remember anything? I was spreading out my crystals and talking to Mom, then – what?

Had he gone on another cosmic adventure, conjured up the Moon Singer again and sailed off to some unknown time and place? And does he now have some kind of post-traumatic amnesia? Or did he just wear himself out emotionally and fall asleep, like he used to do when he was a kid to protect himself from painful thoughts? David's mind is a blur with questions.

“The children…” he murmurs with surprising concern. “Something about the children. Whose children?”

David looks at the compass, and feels strangely protective of the instrument. He will keep the find to himself until he can research what it is, hoping for a clue as to where it could have come from.

As he nears the dock along the boat harbor, David sees someone waving at him, beckoning him to hurry along. He recognizes his Aunt Dorothy and breaks into a trot toward her sloop. Glancing at the name painted on the boat's hull, David smiles as he jumps aboard the tidy deck of the sloop Moon Singer.

Someday, he promises himself, he must tell his aunt about her sloop's majestic namesake and his fantastic voyage to the Island of Darkness and the Kingdom of Light.

Then again, he thinks,
What difference does it make now?
The memories of that foray into another dimension are still vivid, yet the purpose of it all still eludes him. And he certainly has made no good use of the powers bestowed upon him by the Singer.

“Let's get a move on, David,” Dorothy signs. “We've got to join the flotilla.”

David frowns. “What flotilla?”

He is now close enough to read her lips. “The demonstration against the war ships contract. The kids have been working on it for a week now.

Dorothy eyes him quizzically. “Where in the world have you been? You look like you slept in your clothes.”

He looks down at his rumpled shirt with grass stains on it. A rush of anticipation sets David's pulse to rising, but he's not quite sure why. Quickly, he sets to working on the riggings and unties the lines from their moorings. He is about to signal Dorothy to cast off when he is strangely inspired to take a quick check of the mainsail boom. Good thing, too. He tethers the loose pole so it won't swing wild.

“Okay! Cast off!”

With David working the sails and Dorothy at the helm, the sloop Moon Singer is guided skillfully into the channel. The active westerly breeze fills the mainsail, revealing a large letter “P” almost as big as the sailcloth.
What is that?
David wonders, puzzled. The wind is smooth and steady now to the northwest, and in moments the sloop is aligned with the flotilla of sailboats of all sizes and color schemes.

Lost in his own thoughts, David glances at the faces of the children, expecting to see his neighbors and school chums sailing blissfully along. But instead, one by one, he sees what he can hardly believe he is seeing. His memory comes back with swift impact as he recognizes the sea of familiar faces.

They are the Coronadus children! All the beautiful, glowing, vibrant children who sailed with him on the great clipper ship Moon Singer – the children who endured the separation from their homes and family, and survived a terrifying cosmic maelstrom. And there, in the lead skiff, are Maati and Sokar!
Impossible. How can this be?

The twenty-one boats line up, one behind the other, in one long breathtaking ribbon of color. There is something else startling, something that David cannot see because he is right in the middle of it. Each boat in the flotilla displays a large letter on its mainsail, a piece of the slogan that draws thunderous applause from the hundreds of people standing on the wharf: “Port Avalon Peace Voyage.”

The flotilla circles around the bay. Then, with amazing grace and precision, each crew trims its boat's sails and glides it into its respective slip at the harbor. The children disembark to more cheers.

Unable to hear the hoopla, David can only see hands clapping and people jumping up and down, some carrying placards of support, others of opposition.

Why are there TV cameras?
David wonders as he and Dorothy step onto the pier.
What's going on?

The children run to a crudely built stage on the wharf, where a banner hanging overhead reads: “Solutions for a Better Tomorrow by the Port Avalon Kids.” On the dais, a large hand-painted sign describes their “Statement of Purpose”:

1. Create Jobs
   
2. Give Back to the Community
   
3. Protect the Environment
   
4. Learn From Our Experiences
   
5. Show What We Can Accomplish
   
6. Be Profitable
   

Booths and tables line the pier, each with a different theme, a product to sell, a philosophy, a demonstration. Here, a display of artwork - oils, watercolors, charcoal, pen and ink - featuring landmarks of Port Avalon, seascapes and landscapes of serenity and beauty. The talent is raw and immature, but the vision is innovative and heartfelt.

Over there is a quartet of young musicians with violin, flute, guitar, and Celtic harp playing joyful renditions of popular music in a classical fashion; then, some classical music in a popular fashion as an electronic keyboard and electric bass guitar join in. David can only feel the happy vibration and taps his feet in rhythm.

Displayed on a long table are dozens of copies of a self-published book created on a computer describing the history of Port Avalon. Biographies of the founding families are highlighted by stories about the Nickerson clan. Vivid photographs and old renderings bring the stories magically to life.

A computer is hooked up to the Internet displaying the Port Avalon Web page. It invites people from all over the country to buy the book, to make reservations at the Bed and Breakfast Inn, to reserve a charter boat for fishing and sailing - to come and enjoy the beauty and uniqueness of the bustling, friendly, and poetic town.

But the most ingenious plan of all, one that draws awe-inspired applause and inquiries, is the announcement that all the kids pooled their own savings and earnings to buy 500 shares of Cole Shipping - and voted NO on the Navy contract.

“I can't believe my eyes,” Dorothy signs into David's hand, then holds it lovingly to her face.

“Neither can I, believe me.” David signs back.

As David looks over the crowd, and scans the faces of the ingenious children, they once again become the familiar kids he has known all of his life. The Coronadus children, including Maati and Sokar, dissolve into them like spirits enlivening their host bodies and minds with insight and creative fire. His friends, David guesses, may never know or understand the source of their newfound inventiveness.