Cheilin Saga ~ 34

Cheilin Saga ~ 34  Suspicions  of Sloans
 

By Len Morgan 

‘It’s over sprout, it may be time for you to move on.   The Tylywoch are wondering why you do not age.   While Sloan now suspects you are an enemy of Cheilin.’

Aldor heard the voice in his head but could not believe what he was hearing.

‘That is not a valid reason to abandon my work here,’ Aldor replied. ‘I have plans to age gradually; I’ll start to implement them now.’

‘The wheel has turned, they now concentrate their efforts on Freeport, this is no longer the battleground.  You are needed in the Meyam States!’

 

‘But only a short time past you were advocating that I should remain here for decades yet…’

 

‘Ah but that was then.   Now is different.   Now they are infiltrating the Mayam States and planning to attack through the mountains.   If they attack on two fronts the Empire is done for.   You cannot allow that to happen,’ said Orden.

 

‘I will think on it,’ said Aldor.

‘Think fast, there is little time to lose; I am needed elsewhere,’ said Orden, and was gone.

‘Aldor, you need to come to the Portal now, but be cautious, there are visitors at the front door.’

.-…-. 

“How long has he been here?” Aldor asked.

“About half an hour, he jumped me as I opened the Portal and fell unconscious as you see the moment we arrived,” said Brother Ignatius.

 

‘He is stirring,’ said Aldor, ‘are you certain he will not awaken?’

‘We have only ever had two intrusions by standards, both incidentally connected to you.   ‘We have underestimated the resilience of humans on both occasions’ said the Portal.

 

‘You are saying he could awaken’ asked Brother Ignatius.

‘He might just as well be awake, his dreams are an uncanny mirror of reality, it is most strange.   He is constructing reality out of his imaginings.   Already he suspects that he is dreaming; how could he possibly know…’ said the Portal.

Aldor made tentative contact with the periphery of Sloan’s mind and was immediately struck by the familiarity of the Dream Portal…

‘Do you wish for your senses to be awakened,’ the Portal repeated.

‘I do not know,’ said Sloan.

‘You must realise we cannot allow you to leave here with the knowledge you now possess.’

‘What do you intend to do then,’ Sloan asked.

‘You will be returned to the outside without your memories of this place.   If, in the future, you have a change of mind your palm will work the touchpad on the outside wall.’ 

‘Ah!   But if I cannot remember, how could I know to try it,’ Sloan asked. 

‘If you have a genuine change of demeanour you will know’ the voice in his head replied.

  “We need to get him out of here,” said Aldor.   “There is a guard on the main entrance; I had to enter through the ‘Sacred Grove’ beyond the west gate.   Take his arm” said Aldor and they walked, supporting him between them, along the blue line to the exit. 

.-…-. 

  Sloan awoke with a vicious hangover, at an inn on the west side.    His mind harboured remnants of a half-forgotten dreams, of freaks, mind reading devices, and an overlying sense of disquiet, as though something important was hidden just below the surface of his consciousness.

 He recalled a few drinks, as a last farewell to his lost friend, then waking up in his present unfamiliar surroundings.   He suspected he had been drugged; his purse was empty.   He sent word, to the nearest guard post, requesting means of identification and sufficient funds to settle his lodging. 

  Even as he waited, Aldor was making his final visit to their mutual friend Dan.   Just about the time, he was settling the recconing; Aldor and Dan were discussing Lomax as his successor and their new contact.   The sergeant on the East gate smiled knowingly, and nodded sympathetically to Sloan, thinking his own thoughts; just as Aldor left the city, through the West Gate, heading for the 'Sacred Grove' along the Central Highway.  

The beggars Sloan questioned, at the East Gate, were wealthier than he remembered but, they had seen and heard nothing.  A puzzle indeed but, he was a patient man, eventually he would get to the bottom of it; he always did.  

(Not the End) 

                                                                                                            Copyright Len Morgan