‘In a horrible twist of fate, which we now regret, we took the ruinous decision, by design for profit by some and by accident through immigration, to begin exporting our biological weapons and our people, to the other side, to other worlds, through the portal and portals that randomly opened up.
‘We were only trying to save our people, you see, and we started sending them to Athens through the portal. Some we sent to Sparta and Corinth. I cannot understand why the portal opened up at the time of the Peloponnesian War, which lasted between 431 B.C. and 404 B.C.
‘Perhaps by design of a higher force or for its amusement, that war that had similar overtones to ours was meant by that higher force to act as reminder of the consequences, like a weird parallel universe, nature’s way of trying to tell us something, a strong message that not only did we not heed, but we ended up making things worse there.
‘We may have caused a deterioration in Athens’ ability to cope. The Athenian plague during the war ended up becoming much worse than it would otherwise have been. They didn’t stand a chance. We changed events by, maybe inadvertently in some way, boosting Sparta.
‘The Spartans seemed to have been immune to our plague. I don’t know whether it was their diet, that disgusting black soup, the “melas zomos”, or something else, something in their genes, but, whatever it was, it worked for them, and the plague had no effect on them at all.
‘Do you think it had to do with Spartan appreciation of nature at a more rudimentary and honest level, and thus being closer to its secrets, compared to the delicate elegant Athenian love affair and its use of nature as inspiration for art?
‘Even though they had no way of analysing the bug to establish whether it was the same strain affecting both cities, the Athenians found out about the Spartans’ mysterious immunity to it and tried to contact the Spartans to get some help, a cure maybe.
‘Representatives from both sides had a secret meeting and found similarities in the intruders and their actions and symptoms. That is when they suspected that they were being afflicted by the same thing and realised that the Spartans could be their only hope to combat it and maybe cure it. How to isolate and extract whatever it was that gave the Spartans that edge, was beyond their medical capabilities, but they sure would have tried anything, even the transfusion of blood from Spartans to Athenians.
‘How, though, to isolate what you don’t know, the enemy within you cannot see? How could you bind back together the lost vestiges of soul and body that had been scattered to the far corners of the earth?
‘The Spartans, ignoring the politics of war, without asking anything in return, no “conceding-ignominious-defeat” concessions and terms demand put forward, were ready to help the Athenians, even with the advent and tension of the war, but events intervened and they failed to do so.
‘They were halfway through the process, as we tried to help them with our technology, and knock our heads together, to work on a cure, when we had to abort the process, because of some horrific side effects. The ceasing of the experiments led to even more terrifying consequences for both cities’ populations and their allies. Of course history never did seem to record any of this.
‘And we did more, more for which to be proudly ashamed. In our mad, disconcerted state of self, our distorted world, we didn’t know what we were doing. We committed sacrilege. It was us that caused the mutilation of the “stile”, the stone phallic symbols of fertility, standing sentinels outside the entrances to Athenian homes.
‘Don’t you see? We were responsible for the accusations against Alcibiades for the committal of that sacrilegious offence and the crucifixion of the Sicilian expedition. We accidentally triggered, fed and fired up the flames of resentment and scheming of the brilliant general’s demagogue accusers and their rise in the perfect democratic environment. You need to help us go back there and then and fix what we’ve done.’
Katerina was patiently listening and, as the self-appointed representative of the four visitors, leaned in close to reply. ‘Well, it may be a little too late for that. That will change too many of the events that followed in the last two and a half thousand years.’
The old man had more to say. He must have been saving for a long time the urge to, at long last, tell his story, this torrent of words that had now broken the dam holding them back and was flowing freely on a mission to incite compassion, a reaction, help, a solution.
‘What we did, in response to the vicious assault on our way of life, on our life itself, was a terrible thing, but we could not see any other way out of our predicament. But we lost everything. We need your help to put it right. For all our sakes.’
‘How can we help you? And how will that help us?’
‘The war with our neighbours, compounded with the plague, ravished and decimated my people. The only survivors, apart from me and my companion, are two children in a laboratory close by.’
‘So there are more? And they are alive?’ Katerina asked surprised but hopeful. Her sadness was beginning to lift, if even a little.
‘In a way.’ The man saw Katerina’s mouth about to move and anticipated her question. ‘Later.’
Katerina asked the question she had been meaning to ask since they first saw them. ‘Tell me, what is this state you are in, the flashing in and out of consciousness? We have not seen that before. Why is it happening to you? Are these the side effects of the experiment you talked about?’
‘I suspect there will be a lot here you have not seen before. This is a kind of stasis. It was the only way to do it for our survival. We managed to do it just in time, before the evil claimed us too. Everybody else perished, gone forever. I’m all that’s left.’ He indicated his companion. ‘This child was conjured up to keep me company and protect me from intruders, enemies and alien invaders, until he deemed it safe for me to come out and reveal myself.’
There were hostile noises behind them that were becoming progressively louder. The Ruinands were approaching. Katerina, Vasilis, Lara and Aristo had to move on, but not before they tried to help these people if they could, even though it might have looked like there was no hope.
‘I’m afraid we may have brought in some trouble with us.’ Katerina said, her face a picture of apology and shame with a bit of a frown born of fear thrown in as honest seasoning. She was in the mood to hide her feelings at this time.
The old man smiled at Katerina. ‘Don’t worry. It can’t be any worse than what we have faced already. We have suffered more than our fair share of pain in our time. Please forgive my companion’s brashness and audacity. You may join us for a meal and some local entertainment should you so wish.’
The feast organised in honour of Katerina, Vasilis, Lara and Aristo was splendid, made all the more so by the splendour of the hall they were in. The amount and variety of the dishes on display was impressive for such a lack of hands to prepare them.
One did not know where to look, what to taste first. The dishes were causing the table carrying them to slightly sag from their combined weight to the point of precipitating a near collapse. The four visitors felt supremely pampered. However, the feeling of ecstasy did not last long.
The old man saw the suspicion by which the four visitors were studying the various dishes. ‘Don’t be afraid of the food. It’s like what you might have in your own world. We have made it our mission to find out in preparation for this moment.’
That simple comment, that humility, gave no warning about the experience the four visitors were to embark on. With every mouthful they could see the history of this place unfolding before their eyes and fill their minds.
Katerina, Vasilis, Lara and Aristo were in the first stages of a trance. They kept shaking their heads with every mouthful.