The Revolutions of Time Part 4

I smiled softly, "So is always the case."

"In truth it is: time reveals all things yet do all things reveal time?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"Our situation is complicated by differing views of time, and I was wondering aloud if history and the present reality disclose the truth about time in the same way that time reveals the truth of the present.

If our way were more illuminated, the journey would be easier."

"Perhaps that is why men look to the well lit paths of history, or to the dim conjectures of the future rather than the dark, yet detailed ways of present."

"Perhaps," he said, "But the present is so fleeting that it holds little intrigue"

"Even so, it is the stage, not still waiting behind the curtain, nor already performed."

"Yet the past controls by influences and prejudices, justified or not, and it will doubtless be the view of the council that the past must be redone, that the problems be addressed at the source," Bernibus replied.

"I am still in the dark about all your inferences," I said.

"My apologies, I forget myself. But let us not dwell on subjects which may become quite exhausted in the near future, for better or worse," he told me.

"Fair enough," I returned, acceding to the subject change, and jumping on the opportunity to steer it in a different direction, "I know little of you, Bernibus, so tell me all."

"There isn't much to tell," he coyly responded.

"Nonsense, Bernibus, tell me or I shall get very angry," I jested, imitating some mythological G.o.d's wrath.

He smiled discreetly and yielded to my request, "Very well, I will tell you. I was born in the year 490 D.V. (that is, Durante Vita), to a poor couple from the northernmost pier of Daem, the Gog."

"Wait a moment, Bernibus," I interrupted, "I didn't mean in that fashion, for when I say I know little of you, it is because I literally know little of 'you', not the circ.u.mstances that make up your past. I guess it goes back to the interpretation of the past and its powers, and since we can't seem to escape discussing it, lets embrace it willingly.

You seem to believe that the events of your life have shaped you in such a profound way that their mere description is sufficient to explain your personality; I will grant that their influence has effected you subtly, but history is not the scapegoat of the present. The circ.u.mstances do more to define the character of an individual than to shape it, for even siblings with the exact same experiences can be greatly different in personality and achievements. But what I mean is this: your past has influenced your present, yet it is gone and your present remains, show me Bernibus, not his previous forms."

You, who are now reading this, may think this statement of mine to Bernibus to be hypocritical, in light of the very purpose and intent of these memoirs. You may be thinking that I am relating this whole happening in order to justify my actions and decisions. But that is not the case, for I understand that you have no power over me, I have long been dead in your present and your sentiments mean naught to me. In fact, I wish to tell of the circ.u.mstances I found myself in as much as of myself, so that you may have a retrospective clarity in visions of the future. You will understand that statement later on, but for now let me say that I wished to know the essence, the person, the consciousness of Bernibus, whereas I wish to impart to you my story, though ere its end you may come also to know me. I have no ambitions of material immortality.

Bernibus understood my meaning, and though he disagreed with its theoretical imputations, he humored me and did as I suggested. He pulled back his brow in a reflective demeanor, brought his eyes to mine and began:

"You desire me to tell you about myself without literally telling you of myself. I suppose you mean that we discourse on some variety of subjects, so that you can see who I am discreetly," he said.

"Exactly," I replied, "You say it better than I."

"Perhaps it is for the best, as you will draw your own conclusions rather than be given mine, and instead of my telling you what I would like to think I am, you would see what I am in truth. Strange, isn't it, that though we think we know ourselves, we very much do not, and it is only the unbiased observer who sees us as we are. You know, I was once thinking of writing my memoirs, and I would have, except that I was afraid that if I read them afterward I would be forced to see myself as I am and be horrified at the truth."

"d.a.m.n the truth," I said.

"You're starting to sound like a philosopher," he laughed.

"And you a psychologist," I rejoined.

"And where would that place us on the scale of artificial intelligence,"

Bernibus jested.

"Following the footsteps of Jeroboam," I returned.

"Hmm?

"Oh, nothing. Tell me," I asked more solemnly, "What position does Wagner hold among the Canitaurs?"

"He is the Khedive Kibitzer, our ruler in that he leads the council."

"And you?"

"I am his brother-in-law, a relationship that our culture places great importance on, especially as he has no blood brothers. I become, in effect, his partner, though he doesn't accept me emotionally as one, only in etiquette."

"Why is that?" I inquired.

"Because, I am of weak heritage. His sister loved me, and I her, but to him there is no such thing as love, only business, the destruction of the Zards at any cost. No price is too high," he told me with almost a vengeful scowl on his usually pleasant features, it soon pa.s.sed, though, and left no trace when it had.

"You sound bitter, Bernibus."

"My feelings betray me, yet I am not bitter, only disillusioned."

"You sympathize with the Zards, then?"

"Not at all, I do sympathize, however, with peaceful solutions," he said.

"Which is why Wagner disapproves of you, no doubt."

"Yes, mainly, but don't misunderstand me. I am not a closet Futurist, nor am I a strict pacifist, I just can't help feeling that there is another way. But I understand the selection of ideologies, how the stronger breaks the weaker to submission, and while one flourishes, the other diminishes, and I understand focus points, but I cannot justify their marriage."

"What you mean by focus points?" I asked.

"They are the culmination of conflict, where two sides meet and the battle takes place, not meaning necessarily an important or strategic military, civil, or commercial place, but one on which the fighting occurs, the result ending in the defeat or victory of the whole campaign. The focus point of the Zards and the Canitaurs exists both on the philosophical and martial levels. On the philosophical level, it is the question as to what is the proper solution for remedying our current catastrophic situation. On one side the Past.i.tes wish to correct the root of the problem by stopping its realization in the past, the Futurists, however, would venture into the future and brings its stabilization and completion back. On the military level, our forces collide in the forests around Lake Umquam Renatusum, the northern mountains belonging to us and the southern plains to them. The lake itself is of little importance, yet whoever conquers it will conquer all."

"Interesting," I said, "But I do not understand how you seem to imply that I am your ancestor, while Onan seemed to mean the opposite, that you are my ancestors."

"It is strange and complex, and we understand very little of it, ourselves. The time for the council has come though, for our talk has dwindled away the afternoon. Perhaps some of your questions will there be answered. But come, let us go."

"Very well," I said, "Take me to your leaders."

From that room, the one I had awoken in, it wasn't very far to the council room. Exiting it, we turned down a short, closed hallway that opened into the concealed area behind the podium that I spoke of earlier. On the sofa where I had fallen asleep was seated Wagner and on a circle of smaller chairs around the edges of the area were seated about ten stately looking Canitaurs, clean and well dressed, according to their customs. They greeted me amorously, with a mixture of eagerness, excitement, and hope painted on their purloined countenances, taken from the sleepless spirits of several departed generations of war- hardened veterans.

Standing as we entered, they greeted me cordially, and, once the formal greeting of a short bow and a blessing was finished, we all sat down, they in their previous seats, I next to Wagner, and Bernibus in a small chair in the corner, away from the circle of the delegates. He, that is, Wagner, then opened our dialog:

"Welcome to the council, Jehu," he said.

"I was under the impression that the council was much larger," I replied candidly.

"It is, but this is the leadership; we felt that the clamors of a full legislature would be overwhelming to you at first. I know it still overwhelms me sometimes," he laughed, and the others with him. That explanation sufficed at the time, but I later found that Wagner had taken control of the council himself, and that it had no real power: it never met for more than ceremonial matters, the Khedive Kibitzer, Wagner, controlling the rest. But I get ahead of myself.