next floor. The stairs brought me to a wide-open area that I recognized. I suppose the tile work down below should have given it away, but I hadn’t made the connection. I wasn’t going to have to go far to get to the Taj Mahal. I was already in it. We had been in Saint Dane’s basement all along. I glanced around, wondering where I should begin my search, when I registered an odd sound. I thought I’d heard it earlier, but it was so faint that it hadn’t registered. Now that I had climbed out of the dungeon, it was louder. I guess you could call it a “tone.” Three tones actually. Like notes. They played over and over again. The same three notes. I couldn’t tell where they were coming from, but it definitely wasn’t from inside the Taj Mahal. It was like nothing I’d heard during the time I’d spent inside the conclave, so I figured it was worth investigating.
I worked my way through the tall pillars, looking for a way out of the building. The closer I got to the doorway, the louder the tones became. There was definitely something happening outside. I found a set of double wooden doors and pushed my way out into the bright sun. Instantly the three tones grew loud. Really loud. They weren’t annoying, but you couldn’t miss them. They didn’t sound urgent, like a fire warning or anything. It reminded me of the tones they used to play at Stony Brook Junior High to announce that it was time for classes to pass. There was no question these tones had a purpose, and I wanted to know what it was.
I made my way across the wide, marble expanse that led to the edge of the giant pedestal-like base that the Taj Mahal sat on. Now that I was outside, I saw that other people were around. If I didn’t want to draw attention, I was going to have to act like a dado. I’d seen thousands of them, but never really studied how they behaved… other than when they were trying to beat my head in, that is. They didn’t walk like robots or anything, but their movements were precise. And they had good posture. Why not? They were robots. You don’t program a slouch into a robot. So I stood up tall, lifted my chin, and tried to walk perfectly. It was actually easier than I thought. Just being self-conscious about walking makes you a little stiff. My biggest challenge was to not forget that I had to be walking that way.
I gripped the long weapon. There was a small red button in the handle that I figured was the on-off switch. I took a chance, hit it, and felt the wand hum. I hit the button again and it stopped. I decided to leave it off. I didn’t want to accidentally brush it against my leg and vaporize myself like an idiot. I thought back to when I had seen the dados walking around and remembered that they held the weapons down at their sides. That’s what I did. In all, I thought I was going to pull it off. So long as nobody noticed my hair or beard, I’d be cool.
The tones continued. As I marched closer to the edge of the foundation, I sensed something else. Another unique sound. I reached the perimeter and looked down onto the gardens that surrounded the Taj Mahal to see that the sound was coming from a large crowd of people who were slowly moving toward the front of the building. There had to be hundreds of them. They weren’t in a hurry, but I sensed excitement. Little kids sprinted through the crowd, as if they couldn’t wait to get where they were going. These weren’t dados. They were the Ravinians who lived in this conclave. I saw all types. All ages. All races. These were the chosen of Third Earth. The tones now made sense. It was a signal. Or a notice of some kind. When the tones sounded, people came. I wondered if this was a normal thing, or something special.
I made my way forward in the direction the crowd was moving. As I walked, I joined more people who were on the same level with me, all moving in the same direction as those below. There were dados mixed into the crowd who looked to be scanning for trouble. I didn’t want to be spotted, so I did the same, though I guarantee we were looking for different kinds of trouble. I did my best to stay away from them. I didn’t want to be recognized. Or not recognized. Invisible was good. As I walked closer to the front of the Taj Mahal, it became easier to blend in because the crowd grew dense.
When I reached the front of the building, I realized that this was everyone’s destination. Thousands of people crowded around the long reflecting pool that stretched out in front of the Taj Mahal. It was a staggering sight. Behind me loomed the massive onion-shaped dome. In front of me were thousands of people looking toward the building. I no longer felt in danger of being discovered. I was one in thousands. I meant nothing. This was a spectacle. Nobody was going to notice one dado who needed a shave.
The question then became, what the heck were they doing here? This was Saint Dane’s house, so whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. They had been summoned and I didn’t think it was for a barbeque. Looking up at the Taj Mahal, I saw that a platform had been erected. Had that been there before? I didn’t remember it. It didn’t look to have come from ancient India, either. It looked high-tech modern. It was a wide silver tube that rose about thirty feet into the air. Etched into the surface was a huge Ravinian star. Erected on top were two, thick uprights and a cross bar. They were also made of metal and looked heavy, but with style. Like a modern sculpture. It was this frame, on top of the circular, silver tube, that had everyone’s attention.
The tones continued as the people gathered. It was getting crowded. I now noticed that several dados had arrived on ground level. They marched in carrying red Ravinian star flags. The procession moved around the fountain until there was a line of flags stretching along either side of its considerable length. The flags sickened me. They represented everything that Saint Dane stood for. They symbolized the movement that had brought Halla to its knees. The sight reminded me of those old movies I’d seen of Nazi rallies before World War II. I guess people didn’t learn from the mistakes of the past.
The tones stopped. I sensed the anticipation of the crowd. Everyone focused their attention on the strange sculpture on top of the silver tube. The show was about to begin.
A loud gong rang out. The huge crowd instantly became silent. It was eerie. A lone figure appeared on the platform on top of the tube. I wasn’t sure how he’d gotten up there. Maybe there were stairs that I couldn’t see. But he was there, and it didn’t surprise me at all.
It was Saint Dane. He held his arms out as if to embrace the masses. No sooner did his arms go up, than the crowd applauded. Like crazy. They loved the guy. Or maybe they were afraid that if they didn’t give him a big hand, they’d be in trouble. The dados holding the flags waved them furiously. It was impressive, in a sickening sort of way.
Saint Dane lifted his hands. It was a subtle gesture, but the crowd understood. They fell silent again. Creepy. They were like puppets. I was standing in a crowd of people more than twenty yards away from the platform, but even from that distance I could see that Saint Dane was loving this. He had grown to enjoy his power. He was living the dream.
“Ravinians!” he bellowed, his amplified voice booming from unseen speakers. “Thank you for joining me here today.”
I snickered. Like they had a choice. My guess was that if anybody didn’t come running whenever the horn sounded, they’d regret it.
“I am asking you to play a role in what I believe is a critical moment in the continuing evolution of Ravinia. You are not here as mere bystanders. You are participants. The decision you make today will help shape the future of our grand experiment. As the chosen, the course of Ravinia has been and always will be in your hands. I am asking you today to once again help me chart the course that will make the vision a reality.”
The crowd went nuts. Cheering and applauding. I don’t think they had any idea what they were cheering about, but Saint Dane was being all dramatic and firing them up, and they were going right along with it. Did they really think that they were making their own decisions? I guess people believe what they want to believe. When they quieted down, Saint Dane continued.
“Throughout Halla the elite have risen. The pariahs have been marginalized. Look around you. This is the glory of Ravinia. Conclaves such as this exist throughout all worlds. We have been rewarded, and this is only the beginning.”
Again, big applause. Watching this crowd brought back memories of other similar scenes on other territories. I thought of the crowds on Quillan, who would do anything, even risk their children, to get ahead. And the quig battles in the Bedoowan castle on Denduron. And the crowds of Ravinians on Second Earth. All those people bought into Saint Dane’s vision. As I watched the people here on Third Earth, it struck me again how this was exactly what Saint Dane had been working for. If Solara was created and powered by the spirit of all people, Saint Dane drew strength from the people who only thought the way he did. He weeded out those who didn’t fit his plan and would soon be left with only those who bought into his ideal.
It also struck me that Saint Dane hadn’t assumed a new identity here on Third Earth. There was no more pretense. No more weaseling into a society and influencing events to go his way. The gloves were off. What I said to Nevva was true. Saint Dane loved the power. He no longer had to work through anybody else. It was all about him now. He had assumed the role of ruler. Or king. Or god. Or whatever it was he envisioned himself to be.
“We are nearing the end of a journey that began thousands of years ago here on Earth with the birth of
