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ShadowedFigure
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The figure moved through the slums of Capitol - he could not go near the Square now, as there were many guards there. Hundreds, he guessed.
Making a second night trip had not been part of his plans. He had planned to make perhaps a journey a week, to spread his word through Apolytonia - but the non-believers had ruined these plans.
After the first night, the city had spoken of nothing but the words on the Capitol Square platform. The town crier had cried it out until his throat was sore, and the merchants swapped gossip about the events with their customers. The Priests were gathered around the words, and scholars from the corners of Apolytonia had been brought in to help understand its meanings.
The figure remembered the old days; or were they the new days? His recollection of time had been totally ruined by his thoughts and images of the future.. or were they the past? He "remembered" huge weapons, which spewed fire and death, and men rampaging through cities burning and pillaging. He remembered the warmongers of the time.. the Communists of Old Apolytonia. Or were they New Apolytonia?
"Psst. M'Lord." a voice whispered from a shadow. The figure drew his knife and stepped closer.
"Whats the password, stranger?" the figure challenged the shadow.
"Lions are blind, M'Lord."
"Ok." The figure put his knife back into his pocket as the figure stepped into the sparse light. He was a short, ugly man, with the scars of battle and fighting. His eyes had the same look as his own; the cold, hard, grey eyes of a future-dreamer.
"I trust you had a pleasant journey, M'Lord. And well done on last night. You spread the message well enough."
"Thank you, General." the figure replied quietly, "I trust you have what I needed?"
"I do, M'Lord." the man replied, handing over something in a leather bag. "Its there.. just be careful now.."
"I'll be careful.." the figure said, taking the bag and stuffing it into his pocket. He stared into space for a few seconds, momentarily stunned.
"Remembering something, M'Lord?"
"I can't tell, General. I don't know if I'm remembering or.. seeing. Theres muskets.. spewing fire.. and people.. called Romans.."
"Ahh, before my time, M'Lord. There were Romans in Old Apolytonia."
"Of course. What of the Fifth Empire, General?"
"Ahh, goes well, M'Lord. Their armour is pushing into the Zulu's heartland."
These words made no sense to the figure; his life was just one jumble of memories of events he had never been in, or even been alive for. There were memories of events which were yet to happen; which was why his people were known as "Future-Dreamers".
The Future Dreamer nodded at the General, and they said their goodbyes. They made it short; they both already remembered their next meeting.
The Future Dreamer hurried down the cramped alleyways of the Capitol slums. It was a maze of alleys and roads, which many men got lost in - it was said that a Division of Marines could get lost in these slums - the Future Dreamer wasn't even sure what a Division of Marines were.
His destination was the Square. It was now deserted; the Future Dreamer remembered this because he was about to have a look. The Priests had gone back to their churches, the scholars had found hotels, and the soldiers were resting in the barracks. All deserted.
The Future Dreamer started to run. He was anxious to get their quickly, because he remembered that he would almost get caught by a soldier returning from the barracks. He ran down an alley, jumped over a crate and hurtled into the Square. He vaulted on to the Squares platform, and took out the leather bag. With a quick movement, he hung the bag on the guillotine, and started to run. Just as the soldier saw him.
He remembered what would happen. There would be a short run, and then he would lose the soldier in the alleys, and return home.
Within five minutes, it had been done. The dreamer knew it would be a success; he remembered it. He remembered everything.
The next morning, the cocks crowed. The bells rang. The city woke. And the Priests found the bag.
The entire city squeezed into the Square. Few could hear or see anything, but they were buzzing with excitement.
The Head Priest slowly opened the bag. He pulled out another, smaller, leather bag. Inside that was something light and fragile. He pulled it out.
"What is it, O Head Priest?" a Priest asked in awe.
The Priest studied the flimsy object he had pulled out of the bag. It was a newspaper.
"A newspaper.. It's just a newspaper." The Head Priest replied. He had been nervous; he was afraid someone was attempting to overthrow the church.
Presidential candidates Cavebear and Darkness' Edge were standing on the platform. Darkness' Edge stepped forward and asked what it said.
"Its just a newspaper. It says nothing we do not already know."
"O Head Priest.. I beg you to read it for the sake of the illiterate crowd."
"Very well, Presidential Candidate Darkness. I shall. But I am sure you will find nothing to excite you."
The Head Priest scanned the paper for a few seconds and squinted. He had forgotten his spectacles, but could still read a few of the words.
"In a close run.. match.. for Presidency.. the Cabinet has announced.. that cavebear has beaten Darkness' Edge.. who becomes.. Vice Pres.."
The reading ended abruptly, mainly because the Head Priest had fainted.
It was tommorrows newspaper...
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02-10-2002 21:07
as I agree with you he must have very much free time (looking at the size of his post) the story is very interesting. I'm thrilled.
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