We passed what were obviously immense laboratories, with fantastical luracastric apparatuses, and rooms of great airy cages filled with small animals from rodents to chattering monkeys and gloriously beautiful birds. There were even owls in these rooms, and the sight of these owls sent a thrill of misery through me because, of all birds on Earth, owls most resemble the people of Bravenna. I had to ask what these birds were in order to learn that they were owls. I had only glimpsed one or two in the Wilderness lands.
In the Creative Tower, there was very little evidence of metal anywhere. There was luracastria hard and soft, translucent or opaque. And there was music filling the air in different areas, streaming out of portals in the walls--with the sound of singing and instruments, and what might have been stringed instruments of great sophistication though I didn't know it, of course, at the time.
As we walked on and on through these c
orridors, slowly, past door after door, I came to realize that those leading us were deliberately taking us on a tour. In fact, after we had covered more than one story of this interesting building, I came to see that we were being invited silently to observe many communities of workers in different capacities, and also areas where the workers ate and drank and welcomed us with cheerful waves and invitations to join them.
I will regret forever that I did not ask questions, that I did not ask to see libraries and archives, that I did not ask about those tapping on the tabletops before giant monitors, that I didn't ask about everything. But at the time, I was too intrigued and too aware of my burden as the leader of our small band, the one who could actually give the signal to bring this entire world to an end.
What I did receive was the impression of immense complexity and innovation and that a great divide separated those within this building from those without. I knew no one in Atalantaya worked more than four hours a day, I'd learned that on arrival, but I had not dreamt that a technocrat class of such size had been living in the Creative Tower, and that is what I did see on this tour.
Finally we were brought to the very top floor of this tower and through a pair of large gold-plated doors heavily carved with figures and pictographs--into the receiving room of the Great One, Amel.
He sat behind a large translucent desk with his back to a transparent wall, and through that broad expanse of western-facing wall we saw that we were now at the highest point in Atalantaya, with a thousand gardened rooftops spread out in all directions below.
As for the chamber, its gold polished floors were strewn with thick woven carpets, and a grouping of couches and chairs made a cozy and comfortable space for people to sit before the desk.
The welcoming guides left us. The doors were shut.
Amel rose from the desk and came towards us with his hand out to greet us. He was simply dressed in loose shimmering red pants and shirt, and he was smiling.
"Bravenna has sent you to lure me outside of Atalantaya, am I not right?" he asked.
We were speechless.
"Sit down here," he said, gesturing to the dark-colored couches and chairs. We did exactly that. I took my place in the middle of the couch on the left side of the group, and Amel took his place on the couch directly opposite me on the right. At that very moment the sun in the western sky moved into position to blind us through the transparent wall. Amel, with the simple gesture, caused the wall to darken just enough to take away the burning glare yet leave abundant soft light.
Garekyn sat down on my right and Welf and Derek on my left.
"I knew what you were the minute you arrived," said Amel. "What do they call you now, Replimammoids still? Or do they have a new name?"
"Replimoids," I explained. "Short version of the same term?"
He nodded and gave a cheerful punctuating laugh. "Ah, the Parents," he said. "And I suppose they told you that I was a renegade Replimoid and that you've been sent here to trick me somehow into coming outside of the dome with some absurd story of a little catastrophe necessitating my presence and my presence alone. What is it this time? Talk of a discovery of a cave filled with ancient writings? Or of a wise man too old to journey to Atalantaya who must see the Great One before he closes his eyes? Or is it a case of illness in the village that is so unique and ominous that I, myself, must attend to it to save the entire Wilderness from pestilence? Or has a brutal tyrant set up a cruel regime in some small hamlet somewhere, who has agreed to surrender and give up his blood-soaked reign if I personally come to take his confession myself?"
We gave him no answer, but we were, one and all, as we know now, astonished. He went on talking. He seemed to enjoy talking, opening up, surprising us, and paralyzing us with his revelations.
"Look, I've known who you are from the moment you arrived on the planet," he said. "I don't know how the transmitters of Bravenna work, or how they broadcast film streams to their home planet and throughout the 'Realm of Worlds.' If I did, I'd hunt down every transmitter and destroy it." He smiled and shook his head. He seemed absolutely honest and authentic. "But I can tap into their film streams," he said. "I can monitor them and marvel at their lust for collected images of suffering and pain, and I did indeed see you arrive and begin your journey across the Wilderness lands. Would you like to know why I allowed you to proceed?"
"Please," I said, "if you would, tell us."
"I wanted you to see the planet for yourselves," he said. "I wanted you to see human beings for themselves, or human mammals as the Parents so devoutly love to call them. I wanted you to see what prevails. And of course, I wanted you to find your own way to Atalantaya, to see how easy it is for anyone from the Wilderness lands to come here."
"I see," I answered. "Are we to infer from what you've said that the Parents have lied to us?"
"Kapetria," he said, laughing again, "that is an understatement. Haven't you concluded for yourselves that they lied to you?" He sighed and collapsed against the back of the couch, his eyes moving over the translucent ceiling.
"Do I take this slowly?" he asked. "Or do I come out with it all at once?" He sat up and putting his elbows on his knees he looked me directly in the eye. "What did they tell you to do, exactly? No, wait, let me take another guess, now that I've met you and I see how sophisticated you are, how refined you are compared to most of their earlier clumsier emissaries. Are you to persuade me to return to Bravenna with you for a conference? Are they eager to support life on the planet now and stop trying to kill it and manipulate it and use it?" His face was flushed red.
"All right," I said. "I will tell you exactly what they told us." I glanced to my companions. No one spoke against this idea. Derek was smiling as if he found this moment supremely interesting and satisfying.
"Well then?" said Amel.
"They told us to ask you to come outside the dome, yes, and to tell you that they want to see you and speak to you outside the dome. But they also told us you would never do it. And therefore that our purpose is to stand before you together, to tell you that you have disobeyed and failed the Parents, and that you are being punished and the world is being returned to a primal cellular level so that life can develop all over again. This is to correct the ascent of mammals on this planet, and return the planet to a point from which a reptilian or avian species, or presumably even an insect species, can attain self-consciousness and become responsible beings."
Now this was my own summary but I thought it was accurate.
"I see," he said, "and how are you going to punish me and reduce Earth to primal rocks and boiling water?"