Ascent of the Aliomenti (29 page)

They’d built the first large ship two years after Arthur arrived on Atlantis to dispense the ambrosia fruit. Will and others had sailed south to the northern coast of the Iberian peninsula. They’d not fared as well as they normally did when trading, for the language and customs were strange. Will was reminded of his warning to the first of the Aliomenti decades earlier: simply knowing the price someone was willing to buy or sell at was insufficient to execute a trade. Unless that individual knew you, trusted you, and wanted to do business with you, they’d choose not to transact. And if you
forced
them to transact, you were stealing from them.

That didn’t stop many of them from stealing in just such a fashion, a practice Will put a stop to immediately. The defrauded victims found themselves in possession of double the amount of profit they’d lost in the theft, and the thieves were publicly shamed. The practice ended quickly.

Over the years, they built additional ships and sailed farther and farther away from the shores of England, encountering strange lands, strange customs, and strange languages. Their telepathic capabilities enabled them to learn languages in rapid fashion, and Will was now fluent in medieval forms of Portuguese, Spanish, and even a bit of French. And those were the languages
others
knew about. His travels to meet with Hope had left him fluent in early forms of German and Italian as well.

His language skills were advantageous as he, the world-traveling merchant, visited Hope and Eva. They were living in their fourth new town, and had grown powerful in Energy. Time had enabled them to develop deep expertise in other skills as well. In addition to her expanded language capabilities, Hope had also developed skills in medicine, weaving, painting, sculpture, a half-dozen musical instruments, farming, and metal working.

She’d also managed to convince several knights to teach her the art of sword fighting, and she passed that knowledge along to Will in sparring matches during their irregular meetings.

“Your future husband is a fortunate man,” Will remarked, as metal clanged against metal, at speeds far in excess of those any normal person could manage.

“And why would you say that?” she asked, her blue eyes twinkling.

“There’s nothing better than a woman who can defend her man from harm,” he said, trying to keep his voice innocent.

She read the amusement in his tone. “Is that so? And who, may I ask, is looking to harm you?”

Will laughed, and in that instant she’d disarmed him. “There’s a beautiful blond woman with startling blue eyes pointing a sword at me right now. I could use some help.”

With a smirk, she dropped the blade and stepped forward to embrace him. “I hope the experience wasn’t
too
traumatic for you.”

“Not really,” he admitted, securing her in his arms. “Of course, I do have a strong affinity for women with blond hair.”

She snorted. “I’d better warn Eva to keep an eye on you.”

He laughed, and then turned somber. “I wish things were different.”

“They’re not, Will. As challenging as our circumstances are, we know the ending is what we both seek, and we’re both staying active and productive as we wait.”

He nodded, and contented himself with holding her. There was an incredible sensation of peace in their simple embrace. The Energy both possessed was palpable in their immediate vicinity, even for those who had no Energy skills, their combined touch the equivalent of an electric shock. Many would wonder how two people so in love could choose to restrain themselves in so many ways, but they’d never experienced what Will and Hope were experiencing now.

“So how are they dealing with everything, all of these new immortals that are running around?” Hope asked.

“Reasonably well at the moment,” Will replied. “I think it will cause a greater emotional reaction when you hit an age where you’d once expected to be dead. I suspect that hitting a century in age will be a traumatic experience for me, much like when Arthur reached his late fifties a few decades back. He could not comprehend how he’d lived so long. I can comprehend living a century; it wasn’t terribly uncommon in the era in which I was born. But actually reaching that age when, physically, I’m still thirty years old? I think that might be moderately terrifying.” He stepped back a bit and took in her face and those radiant blue eyes. “What about you?”

“It’s not so bad.” She paused to think about it. “What’s nice is that we’ve got the opportunity to learn at great depth, and about a wide variety of topics. I couldn’t have hoped to learn as much about any single topic as I might learn across a dozen or more now. I think that’s part of it. You have to keep learning and growing as a person, or eventually that gift of long life will become a curse, and you’ll prefer death to a life without joy.”

Her comment jolted him, for it was something he’d noticed among many of the longest-lived residents in Atlantis, his home for the past two decades. For people like Daniel, James, Elise, and the other founding members of Atlantis, the apparent lack of new experiences was becoming a source of emotional angst. Life was starting to become routine, boring, and many of them were becoming restless. Will didn’t think any of them would do anything foolish in their frustration with life – with living – but he kept a close eye on them.

“I can understand that,” he replied. “I can’t truly experience it, because I have something worth living for. And I have a problem to work on, a riddle to solve, one that may take me... a
very
long time.”

Her face fell slightly. “Nothing yet?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

He had plenty of time for leisure and research. The newest citizens in the community happily took on odd jobs in exchange for money from the more senior, wealthier residents of their Aliomenti locations, and Will was one of those with money to spend. He spent his time on research, leading the newest development efforts for the Aliomenti in general and the Atlantean outpost in particular, including the creation of a fifth long-range sailing ship they’d recently started. His primary research, the work he did in his own room at night long after others had gone to sleep, was the formulation of something that would reverse the effects of the ambrosia. If he and Hope failed to find a cure, they risked never bringing Josh and Angel into the world.

Hope and Eva had both worked on the effort as well, something they could practice in the isolation of the desolate island they referred to as their “summer residence.” Their work in medicine enabled them to collect and study new healing substances, and they were able to test the concoctions upon themselves. The challenge each of them faced was the same: they had no means of testing the results of anything in a manner they found palatable. How did one test if immortality was reversed, other than by waiting? Hope had made it clear to Will that she’d not risk her future children by testing a possible reversal of the sterility; Will, for his part, considered Hope the woman he’d sworn fidelity to in the twenty-first century, and he refused to break those vows.

Learning they’d found a cure in that fashion presented its own unique risks and challenges for a man not due to be born for another nine centuries.

He knew that the solutions would come, eventually, even if in this day and time he had no idea
how
. The advantage of immortality was that it provided both of them with the opportunity to spend literal centuries researching the problem, even though neither of them knew how to find a cure but through the trial-and-error approach they’d both shunned. Worse, if the solution reversed their immortality just as it reversed their infertility, they’d die before they could bring their children into the world.

For that reason, he found it difficult to conduct even the scant bit of research he’d performed.

He knew that he needed a modern laboratory, where he could study the cells in their bodies, compared to “normal” humans or even Aliomenti who’d not yet consumed Ambrosia, and try to identify exactly what it was that changed when one consumed ambrosia fruit. If he could figure
that
part out, he had a chance to reverse it, perhaps reversing just the infertility aspect that so haunted him and Hope.

They’d both happily give up their immortality to give their children a chance to live. They’d not give it up, though, until such time as they knew for certain that the desired outcome would occur. And they’d do it even if they learned they couldn’t reverse the process, couldn’t become parents to Josh and Angel and then consume the ambrosia once more to resume their immortal lives.

And after a thousand years... perhaps they wouldn’t
want
to regain their immortality.

He wished they’d never found that accursed forest and the fruit sheltered within.

“We’ll figure it out, Will. We have, oh,
nine centuries
or so.”

He smiled. “Eighteen, between the two of us.”

She caught the math. “What about...?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t meet Eva in the future. I don’t know how long she lived. That doesn’t mean she’s not still around in the future, though.”

She nodded, but she looked uncomfortable at the news. Eva had been her constant companion, and though the course of thirty years had changed their actual if not their public relationship, the two women were still close, still bonded by the secrets they shared.

Hope took a deep breath, and Will caught a strong emotion from her, of a type he couldn’t identify. “I think I need to branch out on my own, Will. Somewhere completely different. And I think I need to learn to survive without Eva.”

He was surprised, though he quickly understood what she was trying to do. Her childhood had been a disaster, and Hope had been in desperate need of someone to show her she was loved without qualification. Eva had provided that in her own fashion, just as Will had in his. But in many ways, her relationship with Eva had prevented Hope from developing a true independence. The understanding that Eva might not always be around further necessitated that development, and Hope had the wisdom and maturity now to understand what she needed to do.

“How did she take the news?”

Hope looked at the ground, her only response silence.

Will sighed. “Do you want me to break the news to her?”

Hope shook her head. “No, I need to be the one to tell her, and I know that. It’s difficult to share news like that, isn’t it?”

Will smiled. “Having been on both sides, I can only say that in my experience, it’s best for both parties that the news be delivered without delay. The message will come out, no matter what. It’s best to let the person receiving the news know without delay, so that they can prepare themselves and comport themselves as necessary.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Where do you think you’ll go?”

“Back to the island, initially. Then I’ll decide. The world is large, and most definitely not flat.” She smiled, and Will remembered the global tour he’d taken her on decades earlier. “I think I’ll travel a long way this time, and put a very large distance between us.”

Will winced involuntarily. “That’s... probably for the best.”

She grimaced, but then her face turned to stone, and he recognized that something else was coming, a message causing her far more distress. “This whole situation is very difficult for both of us, Will. Unless we change our minds, and risk the fate of history and our children, we must live through a chaste millennium-long betrothal. Distance helps, but if we make it simple to see each other with teleportation... at some point, we’re going to fail at that.” She took a deep breath. “My traveling to a far distant locale solves that dilemma as well.”

He felt as if he’d been slapped, dealt a blow that crippled him, and stepped back.

It had been a long series of discussions, merging the practical, knowledge of future history, and Hope’s own strong beliefs. She would do nothing which had any chance, posed any possible risk, to the children she’d not bear for over nine centuries. And that meant she would not consent to marry him, nor engage in related acts, until the appointed time. He’d protested, noting that there was no risk of other pregnancy now with the ambrosia’s corrupting influences on both of them.

“We won’t know that, Will, until it’s too late,” she’d replied. “Then what happens? What if our children don’t exist anymore because we make that decision? Will you disappear immediately? They won’t be around to rescue you from those men, will they? You’ll probably die in that fight, just as I would have died eventually if you’d not been there to rescue me, mentally and physically, from Arthur’s schemes and mobs.” She’d shaken her head, her face resolute.

They’d still seen each other, still shared in those Energy-enhanced embraces. And though it wasn’t what he’d become accustomed to in their days of marriage, it was, somehow, enough.

Now she was leaving, severing even
that
bond.

He couldn’t keep the look of shock, the look of deep emotional trauma, off his face.

“A thousand years is a long time, Will,” she said, and he could see tears rolling down her face. “We can each help half the planet in our own way. Don’t forget that, in the end, I will always be there for you. For now, though, at this point in our journey, I must be much farther away.”