There was lettering on the cover and it seemed almost to be glowing slightly. He shrugged his shoulders. It was probably an effect of the afternoon light coming through the window. The title now, hmmm...that was interesting. He could, of course. read it. He could read four languages passably well, but it didn't make sense. It said:
The City of The Bells
An Exercise In
Temporal Engineering
He understood what this kind of "exercise" meant. And "engineering" was something that the people who built bridges and ships and such engaged in. Temporal, well, the only meaning he could dredge up was that it had something to do with time.
He puzzled at it for almost a minute but drew no closer to an answer. He shrugged again. If you don't have enough information to draw a conclusion, go find more. He winced as he recognized that concept as one his parents had drilled into him over the years and wondered briefly how many others would eventually pop up unannounced like this one had.
Opening the cover with his left forefinger, he saw a title page, no different from that in many other books, but the following page was a surprise. At the top it said: "Table of Contents." Then there was a listing, obviously of various subjects, followed by what had to be page numbers. What a marvelous idea! Why hadn't anyone ever thought of it before? He could have cut his study time over the past two months by a third, or maybe even by half if he'd been able to turn right to the page he wanted instead of having to search through entire volumes to find the few bits of information he needed from each.
The subjects were listed without any embellishment, but he found himself becoming more and more excited as he read further.
The Founding of The City
The Creation of the Duchy
The First Hundred Years
Years 101 to 200 AF
And so on and so forth to the bottom of the page where the final listing was:
Years 601 to 700 AF
He turned the page and found that the list continued with two more sections. Wait...just...a...minute The list continued? The last two entries made no sense at all.. It was impossible, but there they were:
Years 701 to 800 AF
Years 801 to 900 AF
Today was May 24th in The Year 721 AF, wasn't it?
"Ah geez. Give me a break. Maybe whoever wrote this speaks some other language and made a mistake in their translation." There were many foreigners in The City whose native languages were quite different from his own. Indeed, even some people from the south, while still speaking Italian, used dialects that were hard to understand. Purely to avoid wasting time calling someone to translate for him, he'd learned several of them.
Of course. That had to be it. How silly of him. Obviously the author had a different way of saying things.
Still thinking out loud he added, "Now all I need is something to help me understand how the language here is different."
He was looking directly at the page, so he couldn't make the excuse that he'd missed it earlier. Immediately after he'd spoken, a new entry appeared below the others. It said:
GLOSSARY ..... Page 2044
Now, even considering that the word and page number had miraculously appeared after he had wished for help, there was no way in the world that such a slim volume had over 2000 pages. It was doubtful that it even had as many as 200. He picked up the book and casually fanned it open.
He could swear that he felt his eyes start to bug out as he saw the numbers on the pages climb. First into the 100's then 200's, then 300's and so on until the end, which was page number 2063.
Using both hands, he slowly and carefully put the book back down on the center of the desk. His stomach was vigorously reminding him that it would soon be dinner time, and he needed to eat. Maybe, no, not maybe but definitely. He'd definitely try to puzzle out the meaning of the book, but later. Not now, but later. Surely there was plenty of time to sort things out.
Paolo found his way to the dining room entirely by habit. His mind was completely engrossed by what had just happened. As a result, he was totally unprepared for his reception. News of his engagement had percolated through all the staff and from them to the other children. The youngest two, Stavros and Consuela began to tease him from the moment he came through the door. As it was good-natured, Paolo smiled at his rambunctious sibs and, uncharacteristically, gave each of them a hug. That had the effect of instantly quieting them. As he'd become older, Paolo had hugged them less than when he was younger, and each of them savored the moment.
The eldest daughter, Eugenia, was, at least in her own mind, closing in on 15 years old, and the engagement news had her mind a million miles away from any thoughts of teasing her brother. Like him she had been taught by their parents nearly since birth, and that included the concept that there ere other worthy things for a woman to do besides getting married and having hordes of children. Even though there were four in their family, most people still had six to eight children, and some had as many as 10 or even 12.
Reliable methods of birth control had existed for centuries, but completely safe methods had been developed only about 20 years earlier. Since then there had been a substantial decline in the number born, but many -- of both sexes -- were still unsure as to whether or not limiting the size of families was a good idea. However even most of the doubters found that the ability to space their children farther apart was of substantial benefit, both to the wife's health and in providing more personal attention to each child.
No, Eugenia was far too thoughtful to tease her brother. Even if she had been so inclined, she loved him too much to intentionally distract herself from her own uncertainty as to how the family dynamics would change after the marriage by pushing her anxiety off on him. Besides that, she had her own thoughts about romance, and they were rather unconventional. Probably. She had her eye on Jason Fukui, Kaho's 11 year old brother.
There were depths in that child that already hinted at incredible potential. He might well mature into a man like unto whom there were only a few born each generation. If her suspicions were well founded, she'd have to wait at least another five years, and preferably seven or eight, before they could be married. By then she'd be almost 23, and that was the rub.
In their society, a woman who was unmarried at that age was, well, let us say that she might not be treated well by certain members of the community. Fortunately she had several years yet before she had to worry about that. Besides, her assessment of Jason's potential might be wrong. As it always does, time would tell. In the meantime, her parents would never force her into a loveless pairing. In that, for one of her social standing, she was incredibly fortunate.
As for Paolo being engaged to Sara, Eugenia couldn't be happier. Even though she was a bit more than three years younger than Sara, she'd spent many a happy hour with her while their mothers socialized, and also did whatever else it was that they were involved in. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but the occasional snippet she overheard had been extremely thought-provoking.
More than once she'd heard them talking about "forecasts" and "probabilities." Rarely, they'd used words that she didn't understand at all and that she couldn't find in any dictionary. She was certain that she'd heard them correctly. She knew that she had a good "ear" for foreign sounds. She already spoke five languages fluently and two others passibly, one of which was called "Hindi." She'd never been to India, and probably never would be able to go, but it sounded like an incredibly interesting place and, just in case she might be able to visit someday, she was practicing the language.
But that was all for the future. Today was all about the present, as it should be. Her brother was going to be married to a young woman beloved by the entire family. That of itself should be considered a miracle. With that thought warming her, she joined in the quiet celebration with a full heart.
-----------------------------
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Sunday May 25th in The Year 721 After the Founding
Paolo began the next day with a certain determination. Since he had no idea what the book was, or how it had appeared, he decided that the best thing was to read the first few chapters and feel things out. He opened the book with no little trepidation. Before anything else, he intended to conduct an experiment and viewed what was coming with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation.
He flipped pages to the Table of Contents and looked steadily at the top. He spoke clearly and slowly, "I wish there were something concise at the beginning that explained the purpose behind this book."
As it had the night before, a new entry appeared, this time at the top of the page. It said:
Introduction....page IV.
Most interesting. Also most irritating. Paolo turned two more pages to the introduction and began to read.
For many centuries there has been an ongoing debate over whether a society at peace or one punctuated by episodic wars would result in the greatest progress for humanity. A secondary debate ran in parallel, concerning how one should define "progress" in the first place. Did it refer to technological advancement? Perhaps it meant the development of a stable, peaceful, societal-cultural state of affairs.
Eventually it was decided that an experiment, if designed carefully, and properly monitored, could answer both of those questions. It would begin on a limited basis in only one location.
Consequently, it was arranged that a city that was totally impregnable to any conceivable form of attack should be placed at the juncture of what history recorded as the two most-used invasion routes from what eventually became Germany and Austria, to the Italian peninsula.
The hypothesis being tested was that if the north-central Mediterranean was spared from the onslaught of the northern armies, a society would develop that had time enough to grow strong enough to resist other, later invasions by sea. If it did, it was also hypothesized that the extended period of peace would result in significant improvements in the human condition at least two centuries before it had happened originally.
A sub-hypothesis being investigated was one that proposed that the extra centuries of trade linking so many areas together would reduce the chance of wars even in the northern parts of Europe where so many conflicts developed otherwise and, possibly, even as far away as India.
Depending on the results, re-doing the experiment, but on a much larger scale, placing similar cities on known invasion routes all over the world, would be considered.
There were of course, as with all complex experiments, several unforeseen developments. These began with the intervention by an unknown force, or forces, only seconds before our project was intended to be begun. (Though it must be admitted that the technique used was far more effective than what we had originally planned. Our plan had included a holographic projection intended to overwhelm the combatants. The actual physical intervention made by the 'other party' had a much greater impact - pun intended.)
The second major, unpredicted result involved what we all now know as the "twin situation." The abilities existing among twins born in the test city have still not been adequately explained. (Frankly nobody has the slightest idea of what's going on. If you figure it out, do let us know, will you Paolo?)
Paolo slammed the book shut, threw it down on the desk, and then retreated until his back was against the stone wall forming the north side of his room. He took rapid deep breaths as he tried to regain his composure. First he worked on his hands, as they were fisted so tightly that several of his fingernails had almost broken the skin of his palms.
Once he'd managed that, he wrapped his arms around himself and squatted down, his backside still against the wall, but with his head between his knees so he wouldn't faint. He might have stayed there all day for all he knew, but he was spared that by the sound of his door opening.
His mother flowed into the room, already speaking, "Paolo, I know that you have a number of things on your mind, but it's passing rude of you not to come down to breakfast on time. We're all waiting and... Oh dear."
She looked at her son, huddled forlornly on the floor. Immediately a flash of understanding appeared on her face, which was followed by an expression of extreme anger. Her eyes darted around the room until her gaze lighted on the book.
She stalked over, picked it up, and opened it to a blank page. A few seconds later Paolo began to rouse from his fugue-like state as the sound of someone swearing in several different languages assaulted his ears. The voice was feminine, and it was extremely loud. To be truthful, whoever it was was shouting at the top of her lungs.
His innate curiosity finally got the better of him. He'd never heard a number of the words that she was using, and he knew that he'd have trouble remembering them if he wasn't fully alert. He put his hands against the wall behind him and then gradually pushed himself up until he was standing.
He was both surprised and unsurprised to see that it was his mother doing all the shouting. Somewhere along the way he had recognized her voice even though he'd never in his life heard her yell before. His surprise was because he was having trouble coping with the idea that his mother knew how to swear at all. His last impression, before his father charged into the room, was one of pride at how skilled she was.
And charge in his father did, followed, almost, by his sibs and several of the staff. Seeing his wife holding an open book and shouting while shaking it violently, he spun around and pushed everyone behind him backwards until he was able to close and lock the door.
She glanced over to her husband and smiled her thanks. Then she turned back to the book, and continued her tirade, though this time using language that was somewhat more temperate. "You stupid, asinine, unmitigated FOOLS!. What were you thinking, dumping all this on our son without a single word to us first so we could prepare him for it? Never mind, don't bother to answer. You didn't think AT ALL.
"When are you going to get it into your thick, so-called scientific heads that we are PEOPLE not some sort of test subjects for you to play with? You want this project to succeed? Well guess what? So do we. The difference is that, if it fails, we're going to be the ones doing the bleeding and dying. Did you, even once, consider that? Of course you didn't. If you had, you'd never had pulled a stupid stunt like this."
As she continued to berate whoever or whatever she was yelling at, Robert made his way over to Paolo and enfolded him in a comforting hug. Paolo hugged him back, and, if his father's jacket became a bit damp in the ensuing minutes, neither of them ever mentioned it happening.
Eventually Miranda ran down and delivered an ultimatum, "Now you get this straight and you'd better not EVER forget. In the future, when you think it's time for the next generation to become involved, you consult with their parents first. And you'd better not have slipped a copy to Sara yet!
"Oh, you did? But she hasn't found it yet? Good, GET IT BACK, RIGHT NOW! I'll tell you, or rather her parents will tell you when they feel that she's ready for it. Oh, really? Thank you SOOOO much for reminding me. Of course I know how important the timing is. One of us will arrange things this week.
"For now you will wait until one of the adults contacts you, capiche? All right. Yes you can make a suggestion. Indeed. All right. At least this one time I agree with you. I'll have Paolo read the chapter detailing The Founding, but you are NOT to add anything unless he specifically asks a question. Are we in agreement? Right. Good. We'll be in touch."
She slammed the book closed and hurled it across the room as hard as she could. Paolo had been taught how to properly handle a book from the time he was a toddler. It was his shock at seeing a book so abused that finally brought him entirely back to his senses.
Seeing the stricken look on his face his father chuckled then said, "It's all right son. You can't harm one of those books even if you throw it in a fire."
He stroked his chin several times and added, "I do believe that I've read of that happening in the past. This isn't the first time that one of them has behaved so idiotically."
He looked down at his son and smiled, "Don't worry, they can't hear you if the book isn't fully open. One of the things that they don't know is that, for many generations now, members of our families have been keeping their own records of what's been happening, including how they have been bending the path these 'scientists' planned into what we 'test subjects' have determined to be most beneficial for our society. Never mind what 'they' think should be happening."
Seeing Paolo's quizzical expression, he correctly interpreted the unasked question. He turned to his wife and laughed out loud, "Yes dear, he's definitely our son."
He turned back to Paolo and said, "You're correct. We don't want anyone unauthorized reading those journals. If some random person got their hands on them, and could read them, there'd be more than a panic. In order to prevent that, they've been written in code. Which means...."
Paolo bowed his head and cupped his hands over his eyes. Then he threw his arms in the air, bent backwards, and moaned dramatically toward the heavens, "Oh ye Gods, NO! I thought I was through with studying!"
His parents looked at him incredulously for an instant, then all three began to laugh. This was followed by a brief, group hug after which his mother looked at Paolo and asked, "Are you feeling together enough to come down for breakfast?"
Paolo nodded. He doubted that he'd be thinking straight for some time yet, but; "Yes Mother I am. I have a few questions for you, or maybe a few hundred, but they can wait."
Then he turned to his father, "You said, or at least implied, that this was all hush-hush, but there are all those people outside, and I know that at least three of them will have had their ears to the door the whole time."
His mother beamed at him. "Very good little one, but don't be concerned. They heard nothing." Miranda waved the back of her hand at the door, as if she were flipping back a gauze curtain, tiptoed to the door, and jerked it open. Eugenia, Stavros, and Sven, tumbled into the room. Mimi and Consuela appeared to be making efforts to maintain their balance.
Robert frowned down at Sven, but all he said was, "We'll begin breakfast in five minutes."
Sven stood quickly, brushed himself off, then stood at attention. "Yes sir. Right away sir." Then he hustled out of the room and down the stairs.
Miranda did nothing but look directly at the others and raise an eyebrow. In moments the landing was empty. All that could be heard was the sound of numerous feet hurrying down the stairs.
She walked over to Paolo and brushed some dust off his shoulder. "Yes, now you look presentable."
She took her husband's arm and asked, "Shall we go down to breakfast?"
Robert replied, "Yes, of course my dear. Why don't we?"
He looked over his shoulder at Paolo. "Come along son, or the food will get cold."
With that, the three of them left the room. Paolo carefully closed the door, leaving the book sprawled against the wall, somehow looking both forlorn and dejected.