Henry sat in his quarters, slipping his cold feet into a fine pair of thick, warm slippers. He was disappointed that Rachel still didn't want to talk to him. He knew that she was different, and he knew that Lisa was different too. There had to be some way to get through to her.
Reaching towards his bunk, he picked up a grey-sleeved digital volume. It was the oldest one in his possession. It had cost him more credits than he cared to remember. His friend, the collector, had given him a good price, considering how old it was, but it had still been far too expensive for a man of Henry's means. The digital volume contained information about the Council of Lords. It was forbidden to buy or sell such information. If the lords discovered that he had it, they would be sure to take it away from him. There was also a good chance that they would take him with it. Henry knew that the lords didn't want the details of their history falling into the hands of those they considered to be unworthy. They wanted to keep their past a secret. It was how it had always been. The people of Cinnamon City couldn't question what they didn't know.
The digital volume felt light in his hands. It was written by an unnamed historian. Much of the content was mundane, regurgitated segments of insignificant periods of history written in an obscure style. Other sections were more useful. In places the content touched upon subjects that were taboo or that had been long since forgotten. Henry licked his lips and steadied his trembling hands as he skipped through the pages until he found the section that he was looking for.
The Essence of Life
The Lasrecon have lived on Megarothia for hundreds of thousands of years. Lord Hexler proposes that the duration of existence may be closer to a million years, though I find that difficult to accept without some kind of formal proof. As chief historian to the Council of Lords, I must examine every item that is placed before me, and delving into the deep truth of the matter, must separate fact from falsehood. Since the death of Lord Restor and Lord Kali, this is more important than ever.
Henry flipped back through the earlier sections. He couldn't find any explanation of what the Lasrecon were. Perhaps it was so obvious to the lords that it wasn't something that they thought needed explaining? In places, the text referred to the essence of life, but he could not be sure if the two terms were related or entirely separate concepts. The historian deviated often, drifting off into personal anecdotes or strange facts about his own life and experiences. Henry intended to study those passages in detail one day, but for now his interest lay elsewhere. He flicked forwards again, searching for the words that he had seen so many times before.
Lord Hexler was angry today. He destroyed the nurturing fountain. His experiments have failed. In the morning, he announced that the Lasrecon cannot be controlled or commanded. Much to his frustration, they will only travel according to their own unfathomable needs. Extended searches have not yet found another breeding basin. The depths of the lakes seem to be their only true home. Lord Hexler says that they are drawn towards some lords and repelled by others, though his experiments are incomplete in this respect. The behaviour of the Lasrecon is not well understood. Frustrations run high. There is much disagreement amongst the Council of Lords. I fear it may happen again, if they do not return soon. Lord Porthus died today. I have known him for more than four centuries. He was strong in mind but his body lacked the stamina required to dual with the new blood. He should never have accepted their challenge.
Henry frowned, flicking forwards to later sections.
The equipment still hasn't arrived. The people roam free. The plans have been set back again. There are those in the Council of Lords who say the plans should not be carried out at all. I fail to understand their weakness in this matter. We must follow the path of our ancestors. If we fail, we fail not just ourselves, but all the other colonies.
Henry was losing the thread. He didn't understand what the other colonies were. He skipped forwards, searching for something that he could more easily understand.
Lord Hexler was found dead three months ago, hanging from a tree. They said that he took his own life. I fear that more than one set of hands must have carried him to the highest branch. He still swings there today. His allies fear to take him down. The Council of Lords has denied my request to investigate the matter further. My questions have been met with silence and scorn.
Henry placed the console on the bunk and rubbed a hand across his aching lower back. He wondered how it must have been to live in such times. One thing was clear. The lords were not as united as many believed. They had their differences and factions. They killed one another and pursued their own goals. They might consider themselves to be a higher species, but they shared many of the base flaws of ordinary men.
Sipping the herbal tea that he had just made for himself, he forced his tired eyes to remain open. He needed to sleep but he also wanted to read a little more before he took his usual afternoon nap. He needed to understand more about the lords if he was ever going to be able to help Rachel. Picking up his console once more, he flicked through to the next section.
Sand Lord David Wembern has returned from the lakes. He has spent more time there since Lord Hexler's death. Several members of the Council of Lords have expressed their dislike of his obsession with the Lasrecon. He has taken it upon himself to study them in great detail, going far beyond the ad hoc studies of Lord Hexler's earlier work. He has applied a systematic approach and proposed many new and unpopular theories. Lord Wembern says that they are the most mysterious creatures that he has ever encountered. I must concur with the others. His interest has taken him too far. His proximity to these creatures has blinded him to his true purpose. He is infested with the creatures. At times, his eyes light up with brightness that seems to shine from within him. He belongs to the creatures now, for as long as they choose to dwell within him. Another branch will be prepared soon. I fear the Council has no other choice.
Henry sat back in his seat, resting the digital volume in his lap. He wished that he could have known the historian personally, but at the same time, he feared the author of the words that he had been reading. The words held understanding, but they also held cruelty. He was shocked at the way the lords treated each other, and he was disturbed by the way they had treated Lord Hexler and Lord Wembern. Henry didn't know what the Lasrecon were, and he couldn't understand how studying them could be seen as so unworthy or dangerous. The author had made his opinion clear. Henry read the section again.
He is infested with the creatures. At times, his eyes light up with brightness that seems to shine from within him. He belongs to the creatures for as long as they choose to dwell within him.
Henry recalled how Lisa's eyes had lit up when he had visited her in the medical centre. He had never seen anything like it before. Could Lisa be infested with the same creatures that so concerned the lords? He had tried to warn Rachel. But she hadn't wanted to listen. What if Lisa was sick? He would have to find some other way to get through to her. He rubbed his hands together, and wished that he could understand everything that he had read. So many of the words seemed to hint at things that he couldn't quiet envisage. The historian gave few details and switched topics too often. Henry would have to focus harder than ever if he was to learn everything that he could from the words that he had just read.
Opening the digital volume again, he started to read the next section.