Outlanders 20 Prodigal Chalice, page 27
"Enlil helped them get the manna machine," Balam said. "He whispered the secret into the ear of the right person, and eventually the secret of the machine reached Moses."
"He stole it from the Egyptians."
"That's right, Kane, and you were there."
"why?"
"So that you would have an understanding of what it was you were searching for, and how important it was. And still remains to be."
"I'm not searching for anything," Kane objected:
"You're drawn to the manna machine," Balam said, "as the lady knew you would be."
"What lady?" Annoyance filled Kane.
"Patience, Kane," Balam said. "All will be explained. Contacting you in this manner has been hard on both of us."
"You've been causing the fever?"
"It's been the only way I could make your mind receptive to the contact I needed. And to take you back through the dream gates."
"I want you out of my head, dammit," Kane said harshly.
"I promise you, Kane, I don't relish this contact, either. If anything, I find it more draining than you do. You feel ill, but I'm at death's door to make this happen while you're so far away."
Kane strained to wake himself from the dream. He felt the heat of his body back in the room in Campecheville, felt the weight of Brigid's head on his shoulder and the slack weight of her that told him she was sleeping. He managed to blink his eyes open, and for a moment the darkened interior of the Campecheville sleeping quarters overlaid the forest.
"Don't, Kane," Balam said.
Struggling to get free of the dream or memory or whatever the hell it was, Kane concentrated on the view of the Campecheville sleeping quarters. They gradually become clearer and Balam's voice faded.
"Kane," Balam called, "if you do this, if you ignore this situation, you may be dooming your world."
"The Archons have already doomed it a few times," Kane said, halting his efforts for just a moment. "One more time won't hurt."
"If the manna machine is released," Balam said, "it may well be the end of everything. Think about it, Kane. If you can feed them, you can lead them. That's long been a king's or pharaoh's or president's axiom."
Kane stared at the Archon, wondering if Balam had lifted the thought from his own mind.
"The only reason that's been in your mind," Balam said, "is because you recognize the current situation you're in. You've seen the manna machine work before. Armies and empires have risen around the people who controlled it. If a man can feed people, he can lead them everywhere. That's what Harry Lindstrohm plans to do in Campecheville."
"The people here are trapped," Kane disagreed. "They're on the verge of being starved out. Lindstrohm has brought too many people into this ville to provide for them. Maybe he's got oil, but he lacks natural resources. People can live without fuel a lot longer than they can without food. All Wei Qiang has to do is starve him out."
"Lindstrohm will destroy the oil fields," Balam said.
"How do you know that?"
"Because the barons have a spy close to Lindstrohm. He has overheard Lindstrohm and Narita talking."
Kane wasn't surprised. The barons had become increasingly duplicitous as they'd realized they were going to have to fight for their own continued existence even between themselves. "How is Lindstrohm going to destroy the oil fields?"
"The oil fields are booby trapped."
Kane took in the information without saying anything. Fiddler had mentioned a similar story.
"From his command post there in Campecheville, Lindstrohm can destroy all of the drilling rigs. That destruction will set back possible advancement in this world for decades. When Lindstrohm first set up in the area, no one knew about the oil reserves there. He was able to erect the oil rigs in relative peace. Now that everyone knows the oil fields are there, everyone will fight over it. The force that eventually takes over Campecheville may lack the technical skills to keep the oil flowing."
"Lindstrohm has got trained crews manning those rigs," Kane pointed out.
"And several of them, if not all of them, will be destroyed if Lindstrohm chooses self-destruction. Simply taking over the operation may not be viable."
"The barons want the oil," Kane said.
"If they could get it," Balam agreed, "they would."
"They'll try."
"Eventually." Balam nodded. "But that would happen anyway. However, at the moment, the menace of the manna machine is the greatest thing facing us."
"Us?" Kane shook his head. "You must have a mouse in your pocket, Balam."
The Archon regarded Kane silently for a moment. "I've seen into your mind, Kane, and I've watched you in action. You may not see yourself as a savior for this world, but you have chosen to act in that role several times."
"Wrong. I've chosen to keep my skin intact."
"And you have just as easily risked your life to keep things balanced. You would not willingly let this world backslide again. Even in the past hundred years, there have been improvements in living conditions. Your own existence is as hopeful as...mine."
"We've got different ideas about things," Kane said. He was aware of the frozen tableau of warriors battling to their deaths around him. It made the dream seem even more surreal than ever.
"But we both want the same thing," Balam said, "the continued survival of this world. By seeking the manna machine, Lindstrohm threatens that."
"By feeding people?" Kane let loose his anger. "Dammit, Balam, there are people out there every day in the Outlands who kill each other over their next meal. In some places, the dead person is the next meal."
"Food chains are an important part of an ecosystem, Kane. Think beyond simply feeding people for a moment. If you give one people, or a culture, the ability to indiscriminately feed itself, their numbers are going to expand geometrically. And those numbers adversely affect everything around them."
Kane shook his head. "No."
"For the best continued growth of a species," Balam said, "there has to be a system of checks and balances. Enlil's machine circumvents all of those."
"Feeding people isn't wrong," Kane said. Images of emaciated villes filled with scabby children haunted him Species survival included the ability to reproduce even if it meant the offspring were going to starve to death.
"Haven't you talked with Lakesh about the Heart of the World?" Balam asked quietly.
Kane didn't say anything. Not so long ago, when the barons had taken Lakesh captive, introduced him to the imperator, and returned his youth to him, they had all learned of the Heart of the World and the concept of the world soul.
"Before skydark," Balam said, "there were over six billion souls on this planet. The earth's ability to support those people, especially with the way they depleted natural resources and polluted their own environments, was seriously challenged. That way of life couldn't have gone on much longer. Advances in science and medicine passed the social developments of civilizations around the globe." He paused. "It was only a matter of time until the world imploded."
"That might not have happened," Kane argued, but his words lacked conviction.
"Yes," Balam said, "it would have happened. There was only one other way for it all to end. Skydark pulled the plug on the overdevelopment of the human race. It was the only thing that could have been done."
Kane looked at the warriors standing as frozen statues around him. War had always been a part of human life ever since the first man had picked up a rock and attacked another.
"Walk with me, Kane," Balam said, turning and passing back into the dark forest.
Kane turned and looked at the warriors.
"Don't worry about them," Balan said. "Your part here is done. This battle will finish without you. I want to talk to you of the one still remaining before you."
"I want out of this dream," Kane said defiantly.
"And if you get out of this dream now, Kane, what will you have learned?" Balam asked. "Is it enough to allow you to make a choice when the time comes?"
Acquiescing, Kane turned and followed Balam into the deepening forest. The shadows closed in over him.
Chapter 24
"In the beginning," Balam said as Kane fell into step at his side, "when the Annunaki first arrived on this planet, they found only protohumans. They quickly discovered that these protohumans couldn't do the things they needed them to do."
"They didn't make good slaves, you mean," Kane said sarcastically. As he walked, the forest faded out around him. Within three steps, he was walking above a field of stars.
"No," Balam agreed. "They didn't. And so the Annunaki caused the world-altering event that became known as the Flood. They wiped the slate clean and began again. Enlil wanted a more aggressive position to work from. He created the manna machine."
In another few steps, the stars disappeared and Kane was walking through the shifting sands of Egypt.
"Enlil gave the manna machine to the Egyptians," Balam continued. "But the pharaohs became less tractable as they began to consider themselves gods."
"So Enlil arranged for the manna machine to fall into the hands of the Israelites," Kane said.
"Yes." Balam nodded. The desert gave way to a wooded area. "The manna machine sustained the Israelites until they reached their promised land. But you must understand the manna machine, Kane."
"It makes food out of the air," Kane replied. "I know that."
"But do you understand the implications of that?" Balam asked. "If you give any species a seemingly unending supply of food, they will continue to breed. The numbers begin to increase exponentially. That was why Enlil took the manna machine from the Israelites after they'd secured their lives."
"If the machine is gone—"
"It's not gone, Kane," Balam said. "A machine like that is not easy to destroy. Enlil broke the manna machine up into three pieces and divided them among the Israelites. When he'd first created this machine, and others like it—as did others among the Annunaki—he also linked guardians to the machine to serve as protectors of the devices."
"Watchdogs," Kane said. He thought of the memories that sometimes came to him from other places and other times. In those instances, he hadn't remembered through dreams; they had been momentary separations from whatever reality he'd been enmeshed in at the time. "Am I one of those watchdogs?"
"No, Kane," Balam replied. "Harry Lindstrohm, known by a hundred other names throughout the ages, is one of those watchdogs. He already has two of the pieces of the manna machine."
"Then what am I?" Kane asked.
Balam shook his head. "I don't know, Kane. There is something special about you. Just as you were bound to the Chintamani Stone in some fashion, so you are bound to other things that take place here. And now you are bound to the manna machine."
“why?"
"Because of your promise to the lady," Balam replied.
"What lady?"
"The one who gave Arthur his sword." Balam gestured to the forest that suddenly took shape around them. "Once the three pieces of the manna machine were given into the care of families, Enlil traveled and involved himself in orchestrating the events of humankind. Eventually, he came here to Eire. You know the rest of that story."
Kane nodded. He'd learned a lot about the background of the Archons and the alien threat when he'd met Mother Fand mad the Tuatha de Danaan remnants.
"Over the years, the three pieces of the manna machine were lost Humankind continued to wage war against itself. In Jerusalem, the topmost bowl of the three that makes up the manna machine added itself to yet another legend. It became known as the Holy Grail." Balam glanced at Kane. "You're familiar with the Holy Grail?"
"The cup Christ drank from at the Last Supper," Kane said. But he couldn't remember how he'd acquired that knowledge. It was suddenly just there with no accompanying source.
"The king, the one who later became known throughout all Britannica as Arthur, chose to seek out the Holy Grail," Balam continued. "He never knew it was once part of the manna machine, nor that it could be used to make sustenance from the very air itself."
"Then why did he seek it out?" Kane asked.
"For any number of reasons," Balam said. "You should know, for part of you was there."
Synaptic twitches suddenly flared through Kane's mind. Image after image, as quickly as a flickering light in a gaudy, followed in quick succession. He saw images of the man he'd known as liege and king at one point, bits and pieces of the battles they'd known together, the feasting celebration they'd had when the knight who later become known as Sir Gawain had returned to them with the Holy Grail and the subsequent ambush by the Roman soldiers that had only come about through the efforts of a betrayer among them.
"He wanted the Grail," Kane said softly, "so that the power could be used to defeat the invading army of Saxons and so that the peace he'd brought to this land would stand forever."
"The Grail, and the manna machine," Balam said, "has been used for many things throughout your history. Even apart, the three bowls that make up the machine contain a tremendous amount of power. Perhaps this king you knew sought only to do noble things with it."
"He was a good man," Kane stated in a hard voice, remembering the king.
Balam hesitated. "I'm sure he was." The Archon reached forward and pushed brush out of the way to reveal a small clearing ahead.
A circle of armored men surrounded another man on the ground.
The man on the ground glanced over at the new arrivals. He was dressed in armor, as well, but much of it had been taken from his upper body. Blood streamed from a wound on his back.
Nearby, another man heated irons in a campfire, holding them at the apex of the flames. Tears glistened down the man's cheeks.
"Ah, Merlin," the wounded man said in a weak, hoarse voice, "you've found Ka'in."
"Aye, my liege," Balam said.
Kane turned to Balam. "You were Merlin?"
"I am now," Balam said.
Kane knew the answer he'd been given was no answer at all, but before he could press the issue, the king called to him.
"Ka'in."
Memory of the man's voice haunted Kane. Had he really spent time with the man in the past, or was the familiarity only part of the dream? He couldn't be certain. But he approached the man and dropped to his knees beside the king.
"Aye, my liege," Kane said. Unexpected emotion welled up in him, and unshed tears blurred his vision.
The king was handsome, his face pale in the dark night with the flickering light of the campfire playing over it. His eyes regarded Kane frankly, but there was effort apparent in his attempt to keep them focused. "I lie dying, Ka'in, my old friend."
"Not true, my liege," one of the knights said quickly. "Wilmot is now heating the irons so they may be used to cauterize that foul wound your nephew struck in the battle."
"It's too late," the king said. "I've near bled out." He breathed deeply and raggedly. "I've little time left, and I've accepted that. As should you."
"No, my liege," the man said. "Not while a breath yet remains within me."
The king glanced up at Kane and held out his bloody hand. Kane clasped it in his own, feeling the chill already seeping into the man's body from the night and from his near death.
"I would have a boon from you, Ka'in," the king said.
"Anything, my liege," Kane replied, and he didn't know if the words were his or if they belonged to whomever he was supposed to be in the dream.
"You went with me as my second when I went to see the lady to get my sword," the king whispered. Pain racked his features, bringing beads of perspiration. "You heard me promise her the return of the Grail."
"Aye, my liege," Kane replied. An image of the sword thrust up from the stone in the middle of the lake filled his mind. In his mind, the woman stood beside the sword in the stone, dressed in a gossamer gown that left her lean and lusciously curved body all but naked even in the moonlight. Her hair was dark, and her eyes were deepest purple. He hadn't talked to her that night, believing her to be some fairy witch that would transform him into a toad at the slightest infraction. Now, however, he thought that his earlier fear had been foolish.
The king stared into Kane's eyes. "You were always the truest and fairest of my knights, Ka'in. See that even a dying man keeps his word to the lady."
"I will, my liege," Kane promised.
Without warning, the king and the knights disappeared, leaving Kane alone in the forest with Balam. Kane fought against the ache in his heart. Everything had been too real, just like the flashes of memory he sometimes had about Brigid and himself.
"Where did he go?" Kane demanded, turning to Balam. "He's dead, Kane, a long time ago. But the quest he gave you, the boon he asked, still remains to be done." "The chalice," Kane stated. "It's never been found?"
"Not until now," Balam said. "This evening a group of men found the wreck of a German submarine from World War II. They've journeyed back to Campecheville to tell Lindstrohm that it's been located."
"I don't understand," Kane said.
"Walk with me," Balam said.
Without arguing this time, Kane followed as the forest shifted effortlessly around them. In the next instant, Kane strode along the upper deck of an old German submarine. Water lapped at the sides only a few feet below. It was bright daylight now.
German soldiers in crisp uniforms surrounded them, standing stiffly at attention on the docks surrounding the submarine pen.
Kane automatically reached for the pistol holstered at his hip. Somewhere in there the sword had become his pistol.
"No, Kane," Balam said. "They can't see you. This is a memory of events you weren't present at in any incarnation or memory foisted on you by the Grail's power. I can show you this because of the link I have to the Grail."
Kane relaxed somewhat when he realized that the German soldiers had taken no notice of him. "What link do you have with the Grail?"
"I can sense where it is, Kane, because of the resonance I maintain through the hyperspatial mental energy link I've created with the Grail."
"How did you do that?"
"Once I knew the thing still existed," Balam said, "I searched for it."
