Standing there on top of the stone platform ringed by iron balustrade, the scene that greeted Arjun forced him to revise his definition of the word ‘Grand’.
Neither the fact that the platform seemed to be suspended midair five hundred feet above the floor of the cave nor the realization that the cavern possessed its own weather system was what took Arjun’s breath away. Even the cave itself, shaped like an inverted hemispherical bowl with a diameter of four miles or so, awe-inspiring as it was in its own right, failed to evoke the expected sense of wonder as Arjun stared slack-jawed at the colossal cylindrical machine at the exact center of the cave.
Connecting the floor and ceiling, it resembled a giant hammer, with the flat top spreading out like some weird mushroom of epic proportions. A system of causeways high up on the ceiling could barely be discerned through the intermittent clouds. Immense circular holes in the side wall were pumping huge volumes of air to and from the chamber, enough to generate the miniature atmosphere. Thick metal cords in the ceiling and wall created an unfathomably large network of power. Consequently, the corresponding essence was producing such an iridescent orange glow that Arjun had to quickly adjust his senses. And of course, all the essence and metal inevitably led toward the cylinder, the heart of Balgistin.
“What in the name of Aimin is that?”
“That’s the Power Plant,” Kumil informed them with a proud smile on his face.
“Huh?”
“It generates electricity, which powers most of our other machines. Without the Plant, none of the other machines would be functional.”
“Electricity?” Eve asked in a perplexed voice.
“Wait,” Arjun said. “The bright lamps in the ceiling. I sensed weird essence interactions up there.”
He’d thought it was some form of bioluminescent fungi similar to what the aditarus employ to light their Groves. The lack of kernel signature he’d attributed to them being such a primitive lifeform. Although he’d read about electricity in a recently published book, he’d never witnessed this wondrous piece of stonehornish ingenuity in person before.
“This electricity….what exactly is it?”
“It’s a form of energy. A bit like what the Power Clerics do with the powercells of the powercars.” James, who was apparently familiar with the workings of the strange machine, began explaining using terminologies that they were likely to understand, though the unsatisfied look on Kumil’s face suggested he was oversimplifying things.
Still, the concept of using stored energy to power up a bunch of machines – a whole city – seemed absolutely ludicrous to Arjun.
Seeing his skeptical expression, the Battle Cleric gave a smile. “I know it is difficult to wrap your head around such a concept. But after a few years, if you spend any time in a large Arunian metropolis, you’ll notice it more when it’s absent.”
“How do you know so much about this stuff?”
“I would hardly call myself an expert.” He shook his head deprecatingly. “I was only given leave to inspect one small section of the Plant, and only because they couldn’t fix a damaged section without dissembling half the Plant. Moreover, since the treaty of Garbal, there has been an unprecedented level of technological exchange between Arunia and Balgistin, so much so that electricity has become almost commonplace in Arunia…at least in the larger cities. None of them have a power plant though. All the electrical devices there are powered by small batteries, similar to powercells.”
After giving him an uncertain sidelong glance, Aisha clasped Arjun’s right hand.
“Isn’t this electricity…dangerous? I mean even a solitary Power Cleric can destroy a small town with ease.” Arjun tried his best to sum up everything Aisha wanted to know. “What if the machine explodes?”
“In theory, sure, it’s possible,” Kumil said, his curious glance flickering between Arjun and Aisha’s linked arms. “But we maintain careful watch every bell of every day. Even our contingencies have several contingencies.”
A soft diffused white light, emanating from hundreds of lamps, some suspended from the ceiling and walls, others in the streets of the subterranean city, illuminated the surreal urban landscape beneath them. Again, Arjun found it hard to believe that it was all powered by stored-energy, as even the small powercells had the nasty tendency of exploding in inclement weather conditions. Here, the weather itself was being generated by machines powered by the Plant.
“You peeps sure know how to build big,” said Eve, causing the Engineer’s grin to broaden further.
“Unlike you, we only live once. Gotta think big and build bigger,” replied Kumil.
Arjun leaned onto the iron handrail, looking down. The high vantage point provided a unique insight into the layout of the cavern floor, though only a small portion of the entire Cavern was visible.
There were five main thoroughfares, shaped like concentric rings, with narrower streets connecting them. The Power Plant at the center of the wheel-like cavern floor was making a low humming noise. Inner surface of the whole cavern, including the door they had just entered through, was coated in a black substance, presumably a purified form of Basil. To an Earth Cleric’s senses, this immense cavern would appear to be filled with solid rock indistinguishable from the surrounding mountainside. Thinking back, Arjun realized that in all likelihood, the trap door at the Temple had a similar mechanism. It was also, at least partly, responsible for their erratic senses.
A thin layer of fog enveloped the whole city, and Arjun could make out more soaring structures in the distance. These, however, looked to be natural formations consisting of stalactites and stalagmites that the stonehorns had co-opted and modified to form giant towers.
“Would you like to freshen up before going to the Engineers’ Mess?” Kumil said, heading for a large wooden box up ahead. “It’s almost time for breakfast.”
“Yes, a warm bath wouldn’t hurt,” James said.
“Neither would some warm clothes. It’s freezing in here.” Mercifully, Eve spared Arjun the awkwardness of having to ask for clothes from a relative stranger.
“Ah, of course. I should’ve done so already. Forgot you humans can’t stand the cold,” Kumil said with a cheeky grin. His friendliness and warmth was almost infectious. Arjun couldn’t help but smile in return.
The short ride in the wooden box felt like a day to a terrified Arjun. As he’d feared, it was indeed another Aimin-cursed elevator. Not being able to see or sense anything more than twenty feet outside the ten feet square box was frightening.
As the wooden box touched the cavern floor, opening the door Arjun took deep long breaths. Looking around he saw that Aisha had fared even worse than him while Eve and Kumil were grinning from ear to ear. Even the usually taciturn James was smiling.
“Stonehorns have something against good old stairs?” As soon as he uttered the question, seeing the amused expression on Eve’s face and the one of disappointment on James’, Arjun felt ashamed at his illogical fear, and vowed next time even if Sigrid himself was standing before him, he wouldn’t show any outward signs.
“It’s faster this way, especially going up.” Kumil gestured for them to follow.
The narrower streets connecting the circular highways, as it turned out, weren’t all that narrow. The whitewashed stone buildings either side of the fifty-feet-wide streets had lush green, albeit small, lawns as well as orchid-like potted plants, most of which were unfamiliar to Arjun.
“We can vary the amount of light in the lamps you see,” Kumil clarified seeing Arjun’s quizzical look. “Most plants are not resilient enough to survive in these conditions even then.”
Stonehorns, it seemed, had become even better than humans or aditarus at controlling the environment to suit their needs. And all this without the ability to Manipulate matter or energy like the human Clerics or the aditarun skill of Enfolding Space. Perhaps centuries of persecution at the hands of humans and aditarus had necessitated the stonehornish progress and ingenuity on display here.
Soon a large complex came into view. It consisted of eight two-story narrow buildings and a single one-story squat structure, both encircled by a short iron and stone wall. All the taller buildings were identical, hinting at military residential quarters. Or engineering, from what Kumil had said earlier.
Looking around, Arjun realized, apart from the plants he had noticed earlier, there were no decorative or ornamental pieces of architecture in the whole city. And the plants, besides being aesthetically pleasing, probably helped regulate the air. The idiom, pragmatic as a stonehorn, was by all appearances, quite apt.
Unfortunately, so was the saying about stonehornish hospitality. The few stonehorns that were out and about regarded them with open hostility, though no words were exchanged. Arjun was starting to suspect Kumil was the odd one out.
“Take a bath, then we’ll head for the breakfast hall,” the half-stonehorn suggested.
“Bath? Now? This early in the morning?” Eve sounded aghast. “I thought stonehorns didn’t do anything without a good reason.”
“Regular baths keep away disease,” Kumil replied emphatically. Then, a playful yet sagacious grin spread across his bearded face. “Cleanliness is next to godliness.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Stonehorns have a penchant for cleanliness, Arjun decided as he stared in wonder at the attached bathroom of his guest suite.
While the bedroom and sitting room had all the amenities necessary for a comfortable stay, it was anything but lavish. Functionality and practicality of stonehornish carpentry was evident in the design of the divan with storage room to save space, small writing table which can be expanded to form a rather elegant dining table and even the multi-layered cupboard which can be converted into a much larger almirah.
But the bathroom was an epitome of opulence. Almost half the size of the bedroom, the floor was made of gleaming white marble. It also contained a built-in marble tub and an expensive full-length mirror – which was a rarity even among royalty.
Godliness indeed!!
Not that he was complaining. Arjun grinned and set about removing a week’s worth of grime and sweat and who knew what else off his body.
A bell later, wearing a green doublet over his light-brown shirt and a warm thick leather jacket on top of that – a gift from Kumil – Arjun found himself at the front entrance of the immense one-story Engineering mess. The delicious aromas wafting out from the kitchen located at the back of the mess hall promised a breakfast fit for Allfather.
Sound of soft footfall heralded the other members of the group. Standing in front of the mess after nearly half a day’s starvation, Arjun could barely stop himself from salivating. He turned around, intending to urge everyone to hurry up, but what he saw before him instantly caused all his thoughts to grind to a halt.
An aditaru was walking beside Eve.
At first, he wondered how an aditaru, even less likely to be invited to a secret stonehornish city than a human, got past all the stringent security measures. At just over six feet, she was relatively short for an aditaru. But with long slender limbs, high cheekbones, delicate angular features and slanted amber-green irises, there was no denying the fact that the girl had an aditarun ancestor, possibly a parent. Then, she looked up and met his eyes. And Arjun’s sluggish Crown finally caught up with him.
It was Aisha.
Without all the grime, mud, dirt, in clear electric light, with proper attire of clean shirt, trousers and jacket, Arjun looked at Aisha anew. Aware of the fact that he’d been gawking at her for the past twenty blinks, he managed to rescue the situation by giving her a tentative smile.
“You…err…look well,” Arjun began. Then, sensing his tongue was going to betray him again, he clasped Aisha’s right hand with his own. “I never realized. I mean it was dark in the tunnels,” he said, trying to pour some of his feelings into her through the Palm Chakra.
Despite Arjun’s fear that he wasn’t conveying his feelings eloquently enough via their mental link, or perhaps because of that fear – strong fear – Aisha seemed to comprehend his unspoken meaning. A warm glow of understanding emanated from her.
“In the streets, growing up, I learned how to hide my appearance.” Her soft voice echoed inside his head. “It attracted some unsavory people.”
It was still a jarring experience, talking to her telepathically. But what she said made sense. To advertise the fact that she was a girl, and a strikingly gorgeous and exotic girl at that, would’ve meant inviting trouble, especially since aditarun girls were rare in Gaia, and as a result, were vulnerable to slavers from Viskia.
Arjun swallowed the question on his lips that he almost instinctively was about to ask, one concerning her age. Though she looked slightly younger than him, given her ancestry, it probably meant she was several years older. But life had taught Arjun one key lesson. Women, irrespective of age, tended to be easy to offend when talk turned to their age.
A mischievous smile formed on her soft lips. “I am only a decade older than you are.” Her smile dropped, and a more serious and heartfelt expression appeared on her whole visage, making her look even more breathtaking. “Never hesitate to ask me a question. Any question.”
Arjun gave a happy nod. “To know is the purest of motives.”
“Just so,” she said with a dazzling smile.
Looking at her, Arjun also realized something else – that she’d kept her hair short not out of some stylistic expression of freedom, but to blend in with human male kids. Out of fear, the polar opposite of freedom, as it restricts the most key aspect of oneself – one’s mind.
Once James and Kumil arrived, everyone entered the mess together. That is to say Arjun entered shoulder to shoulder with Aisha. Apart from the five of them, only an elderly stonehorn was visible in the spacious but sparsely decorated mess hall. Looking around, Arjun was glad to note that even while building furniture, stonehorns thought big, though it was still a bit awkward for the humans. Surprisingly, Aisha looked the most comfortable with the seating arrangement, hinting at extensive past experience with stonehornish culture. Arjun filed that question away for a future conversation.
“Well past breakfast time. We stonehorns are early risers,” Kumil explained as he seated himself in the wooden straight-backed chair around a long teak table. “Unless it’s festival time. Even then, this early in the morning, most would be awake. Some would even be lucid.”
Eve cracked a smile, which vanished as she glanced up at the ceiling, good forty feet above their heads. “How in Bramka’s blessed name do you tell the time without the suns? You have a machine for that as well?”
She seemed genuinely impressed by the innovative devices on display in this marvelous city. Arjun, who was studying the white illuminating devices suspended from the ceiling – bulbs Kumil had called them – could hardly blame her.
The half-stonehorn blinked at the unexpected use of expletive, but recovered quickly. “As a matter of fact, we do,” he replied, fishing out a small circular metallic gadget from his coat pocket, handing it to her.
“A pocket-watch!!! But I thought they cost a small fortune. Not many peeps can afford it, you know.” Saying this, a fascinated Eve began studying the minute dials and wheels of the watch.
Seated to her right, Arjun leaned in to get a better look. Even at a cursory glance, it looked to be a masterpiece, far more intricate than the one owned by his mother.
“All Engineers are required to carry a single pocket-watch, fully financed by the king,” Kumil added with a note of pride in his deep voice, and justifiably so. In Aiminia, a single watch like this would cost up to twenty gold, half a year’s income for a moderately affluent family like Arjun’s own.
“What about others, those who aren’t Engineers?”
“Most have a wall-clock at home, passed down from generation to generation. Some individuals possess pocket-watches as well. They aren’t as expensive here as they are in human and aditarun kingdoms.” Kumil’s explanation was interrupted when the server began placing dishes, jugs, and empty plates in front of them.
Eve quickly started piling bread, sausages and what appeared to be a bowl of noodle soup on her plate. Arjun followed suit. His stomach was by this time protesting vociferously about being neglected for such a long period of time. So, despite the strange nature of the menu, he added a generous amount of each item to his plate.
After almost a quarter bell, having satiated his hunger to some extent, Arjun decided to broach the subject that had been irking him since before entering the Engine Cavern. Or one of the subjects. There was another question he’d stored away to ask later, only now it has completely slipped his mind.
“On our way here, in the tunnels, we saw some truly amazing paintings and carvings. I found one of them puzzling.”
“You mean Tears of Jukatis. You’re wondering why we ever painted a scene depicting the day of our first and greatest defeat, the day which initiated the Conflict of the Races lasting two millennia.”
Kumil’s demeanor was sad, and understandably so. The Conflict of the Races, the war between stonehorns and the coalition of humans and aditarus had all but wiped out his people from the face of the planet. But he didn’t appear to be angry, which was the reaction Arjun was afraid his question might evoke.
“In order to overcome a superior enemy, according to Classiklam the Warrior, one must, above all else, understand him.”
Sensing Kumil’s words contained no malice, Arjun nodded. It reminded him of the time when his father had tried to explain military history using similar logical reasoning. Perhaps he’d been more familiar with stonehornish history and culture than Arjun believed, especially considering the fact that he was a former Battle Cleric. Hopefully, in the future he would have a better opportunity to get to know the two people he loved most in this world, at a time and place unhindered by secrets, lies and subterfuge. And while Arjun understood the need for secrecy, he still wished his father had been more open with him.
“Here you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Arjun’s introspection was interrupted by an extremely stocky stonehorn ostentatiously dressed in silk doublets, leather trousers and what appeared to be a ridiculously large ruby amulet around his bull-like neck.
Kumil, almost reluctantly, got to his feet, and introduced him to everyone. “This is my half-brother, the Crown Prince Bukil Krajenshaw.”
Arjun breathed a sigh of relief. Another question answered, one he’d forgotten himself. Why did Kumil think he’s worth kidnapping? Turns out he’s not a noble. He’s a prince. Then again, probably even princes were considered to be nobility. Arjun wasn’t clear on the ins-and-outs of the upper echelon, having had no direct interaction with any of them in the past. This was on his father’s insistence, since more than half of the hundred or so Jamindars – the noble landowners – tended to be former members of the Order. As far as Arjun knew, the political structure was more….diverse in Arunia. As for the hierarchy here in Balgistin, he had absolutely no clue, other than the fact that the city was ruled by a king just like Arunia, but unlike Arunia, it was a hereditary position.
Bukil gave James a wary glance, and hardly acknowledged the rest of them. He was even more frosty and mistrustful than the other stonehorns he’d seen so far. Perhaps being royalty had soured his temperament. But then again, some people are just inherently aloof and when they do deign to notice you, they are suspicious and abrasive. Even the usually cordial Kumil appeared ill-at-ease around his half-brother.
“I heard you are finally ready to fulfill your dream, and are headed to Jivanpur.” Bukil offered a diplomatic smile. “Farewell, little brother. We’ll miss you,” he said, even though his tone suggested just the opposite.
“So will I.” Kumil’s own smile – one more genuine than his brother – held a touch of sadness. Whether that’s because he would miss his work as an accomplished Engineer here at the Cavern or because he would miss his friends and family, it was hard to tell. Arjun suspected Kumil himself didn’t know.
“Gudelbol mkel Jukatis wid uil.” Bukil nodded in farewell and departed, leaving a somewhat bemused Kumil standing there at the foot of the dining table.
“That last bit sounded strangely, and I must add, uncharacteristically, heartfelt,” James said, a wry smile on his face.
“One cannot choose one’s family,” Kumil said, retaking his seat.
Eve looked down and gave a despondent nod, seemingly overcome with grief, although Arjun had no idea what that signified. He wondered if Aisha could shed some light on Eve’s murky and painful past. But asking someone you met less than one day ago to rummage through the head of someone else she herself had known for a scant few bells would be highly unethical. And Arjun wasn’t sure Aisha had the ability to do so in the first place.
But if Eve kept evading questions about her past and her motive for visiting Jivanpur from James, as she had done thus far, it might become necessary. Now that they were finally out of immediate danger, the Battle Cleric was sure to press for more concrete answers. A damned shame since despite all her abrasiveness, Arjun was starting to warm up to her. Of course, a major downside of adding her to their group was that with her hovering near all the time, Arjun couldn’t ask the Cleric about his parents’ past, even indirectly. Or discover some clues about his own genealogical background.
Soon, all such thoughts were replaced by an obvious question when, despite the lack of a huge portion of his usual diet, Arjun found himself enjoying the meal more and more.
Nibbling on a piece of beef, seemingly not so much a rarity here as it is in most parts of Aiminia, he turned toward the half-stonehorn. “Are dairy products like ghee, butter, paneer, sweets, curd, chhana, and cheese not used as extensively here while preparing dishes?”