“Did we not determine that two would have the appropriate strength and decrease the potential destruction?”
“I believe it must be three targets, Father,” Roman replied. “One can be considered nothing but a coincidence; two will not prove our seriousness. Three is a sacred number and will display the level of our commitment. One for each of the three elements affected by those targets: air, earth, and water.”
Lev reached for the oval-shaped carnelian stone next to him. He knew his place in the world. And he had made certain that his sons knew their places as well. Indeed, one of them had put his own dreams and desires aside to meet the demands of his father.
And one of them had not.
“You make a weak argument, Roman, for the third target. I do not approve of it, but I will commune with Gaia, and meditate whether we should proceed with your plans. I will be journeying to the Upper World tomorrow; that will be soon enough.” His last journey; not a physical one; but the trance brought about by the traditional, fast-paced rhythm of the drums, had dragged much from him. But he knew his duty; and his son would too. As Lev smoothed the scarlet stone over his right elbow, he watched Roman as he struggled to subdue the rash, angry response he wanted, but feared, to make. It was almost as if he was chewing on his tongue.
“I did not expect that you would be undertaking a journey again so soon. But of course, Father. We are prepared to proceed as you direct.”
Despite the fact that Roman was a grown adult, and had taken over the full leadership of the clan a quarter of a century before, he still feared his father’s power. It was right that he did; for though he coveted it, Roman was not yet ready to take on that role. He had more to learn: restraint, gratitude, forgiveness.
Roman might have the sharp, bright intelligence that had bettered their clandestine world through his initiatives and inventions, but he did not connect with the spiritual world as readily or as easily as one must to be the same powerful Shaman that Lev was. That lack would be his weakness as he continued to build his levy of supporters and his government. There were two critical aspects to leading the Skaladeska clan: intelligence and strategic leadership, and spiritual communion with Gaia.
Feeling the healing warmth from the crystal soothe his arthritic joint, Lev said mildly but firmly, “I will journey again tomorrow. Then we will talk again. Make no further arrangements until we have discussed it.” There was more, and he would have it from his own son’s mouth. He was tired of waiting. “When will Viktor arrive?”
Roman froze.
Lev smothered a shot of delight. He should not be celebrating his victory, as it confirmed his son’s perfidy.
“Viktor?” Roman repeated. Then he recovered. “A surprise that you have already uncovered, I see, Father. I should have guessed you would learn of his imminent arrival through your community with Gaia.”
“You kept it from me, and I am severely displeased.”
“Father, I was not sure how you would respond, knowing … knowing what happened. I felt it was the right time to bring him back, but I meant to talk with you about it first.”
“For what purpose have you invited him to return?” At one time, Lev did not think he would ever desire to see his son again. But now, with age … perhaps he could consider forgiveness.
Perhaps.
“As we implement the Phase Two, I wanted there to be no one in the Out-World who might be traced back to us. Safety for us, and for him as well.”
Lev nodded. His explanation made sense and he accepted it. “Indeed. I will not argue that Viktor could be a weak link in our chain. You will notify me when he has arrived, then.”
“I will.”
“Now then, what else have you to report from Out-World? It has been several days since you have visited alone.”
“That is true, but I meant only to give you the time for your meditations and journeys. It’s not the best tidings.”
Lev felt the darkness in his son’s mind, and knew that it was indeed bad news; but his easy acquiescence bothered him. “What is it?”
“An oil spill.”
Not what he had expected; a tragedy, not an error. “Where?” He lurched from his chair to his knees, brushing his hand over the covering on the floor, sending his energy through to the rock and soil beneath — to soothe and comfort her.
Oh Gaia.
The horrific images from past oil spills assailed him. Seabirds, loons, eagles swallowed in thick black grease, so filthy their feathers turned blue-black and grey, and the dainty nostrils in their beaks, clogged and dripping. Helpless salmon, herring, even killer whale, gasping for breath in the oil-slick water; washed onto the beach, their scales slick and black, flopping helplessly in the sand. He felt their helplessness, breathed their demise, felt Gaia shuddering with them.
Crude pools and puddles shining on top of the water, winking with rainbow streaks in the sun. Gaia did not deserve this smothering of her oceans. Turtles, sea otters, penguins; all of them, destroyed, starved, swamped with the greasiness of man’s carelessness.
“It is not as bad as it could be,” his son told him. “It was the Crimson Shell. Our oil. She ran abreast of a sea rock, and spilled off the northwest coast of Ireland.”
No, not as bad as the Valdez or the Jessica Spill in the Galapagos, but bad enough. And dangerous for the Skaladeskas for different reasons. Any investigation into the spill could lead the Out-World back to them.
“I have already given the directive,” Roman told him. “The Kamut was applied within twenty hours of the report of the spill. And Fridkov … he has severed our ties with Medivir. Permanently.”
Lev nodded, his worry ebbing. Roman was more than capable when it came to operations and management. “Excellent. That was a dangerous mistake — one we cannot afford at this time. And the Kamut?”
Roman appeared to relax for the first time since joining his father’s presence. He settled back in his chair as he had when he first sat down and allowed his hands to move in graceful gestures. “It was applied in the early morning hours when the rescue workers had returned to their camp. There was one human casualty — a rescue worker who apparently woke early and returned on her own just after the Kamut was applied — but it is likely that she will recover. Varden has traveled to Dublin to see to it.”
“Varden will soon return? He must be by your side when the second phase is executed. He’s wise in the ways of the Out-World. I want there to be no chance that he would be apprehended or injured during the events.” And Rue Varden brought a more purposeful, tempered view of the Out-World. He was a needed foil and trusted confidant for Lev’s linear-minded Roman.
“Yes, of course. I have commanded him to return within three days.”
Lev waited for a moment, watching Roman closely. There was more. He would wait, for here was the test.
His son shifted on his chair, and Lev sensed him curtaining his mind; obscuring something he did not want to discuss.
But discuss they would. He had moved beyond his pain, his desire to seep back into the ground and to give up. It was not yet time for him; and while he walked the earth, he would command and lead with the strength he always had. He might not wish to acknowledge it, but Roman still answered to him.
Lev considered his son. Despite his placation, there was something else Roman was not telling him. Rather than force it from him at this time, he would wait. He had other ways to learn what happened beyond these walls.
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