���� �Did
you find anything?�
He
raised a soot-covered hand to shield his eyes from the harsh beam of the light.
���� �Andr�, point that down,� he said absently
as he continued to dig through the rubble and ash.
���� Andr� complied, illuminating Georg�s work
in the recesses of the cavern. The dig was not going well at all. They had been
camped for four days with nothing to show for it but three forks and a strange
apparatus identified as an �Ab-Roller.� Andr� could tell that Georg was getting
frustrated, and when Georg was frustrated the entire camp tended to follow
suit.
���� �Georg...�
���� �Yes?� he replied, his answer short and
muffled as his head was bent in concentration.
���� �Well...I was just thinking...well maybe we
should call the Search off. I mean, it�s pretty obvious we�re not going to find
anything here. I know you had a feeling, but-�
���� �No! We stay. We dig.� He answered, every
other word punctuated by a stab with his small trowel into the blackened
rubble.
���� Andr� fought the urge to say more on the
subject, knowing it useless. When Georg applied himself, mountains could be
moved. Andr� just wished that Georg would let someone help him move those
mountains.
���� He had let his mind drift when Georg�s
sharp intake of breath returned him to the dig.
���� �What? Did you find something?�
���� �Maybe,� was his cryptic reply.
���� �Georg...�
���� Suddenly Georg jumped to his feet, his
knees cracking in the process.
���� �Shine it here, boy!� he demanded
excitedly.
���� Andr� quickly raised the yellow beam to the
contents of Georg�s hands. He held some kind of box with rings binding one
side. Closer scrutiny revealed its identity.
���� �Georg,� he sighed, weary,
�it�s just a book.�
���� �I know it�s a book, you idiot,� Georg
replied, his eyes twinkling. �But it�s what�s in it that counts.�
���� His filthy hand shaking slightly and his
breath coming in short, excited puffs, Georg slowly drew back the cracked,
peeling cover.
���� Later, at Search Camp, Kim questioned Andr�
over his experience, knowing her good friend would clarify the puzzling rumors
she had heard.
���� �They were...so strange,� he said softly,
with a kind of disturbed awe in his expression that she could not place.
���� �But, Andy, what were they?� she asked, impatient.
���� The rumors had been that the book found was
not filled with the usual strange, indecipherable language, but with something
entirely new. Something old.
���� �They were images,� he said finally, in a
voice not entirely convinced, broken from his reverie by her small hand on his
arm. �Ancient images.�
���� �Images?� she asked, disappointed. �What�s
so ancient about images?�
���� �No,� he said, like she wasn�t understanding him. �Not a digital representation, Kim. These
were...physical,� he said, lacking a better word.
���� �N-not digital?� she said, uncomprehending.
���� �No,� he said, leaning forward, enthusiasm
in his eyes. �They were solid. I - I could touch
them. And with colors that you can�t even imagine. And there were images of
people - but they didn�t move, or waver, or...� he trailed off, unsure of how
to continue.
���� �What did they look like?� she asked, her
own voice grown small with excitement.
���� He turned his face to hers and smiled.
���� �One of them looked like you.�
���� �Me?�
���� �Yes,� he said, �Like you but with longer
hair, and strange, ancient clothes.�
���� She grew quiet, trying to envisage it.
���� �And there was one of three young girls,�
he continued, his eyes faraway, in the distant cave. �They were all smiling,
and one was holding an effigy of an infant. In the background you could see a
woman on the steps of a building, calling to them.�
���� �What else,� Kim asked, breathless.
���� �Well,� he started, moving his chair
directly in front of hers, �there were several images of beasts that Clarks in
Translation called �dogs� - they were even in the images with the humans!�
���� She laughed at this unimaginable scenario.
���� �But there was another,� he said softly,
his voice growing serious. �An image of an elderly man in a
chair, holding a container of some liquid. He was apparently sick or -
or dying or something. His expression was so pained, so sad,� Andr� said,
frowning in the dim light of the tent. �You could see the world in his eyes...�
���� She furrowed her brow, trying to understand
as he was lost in his thoughts once more.
���� �Andr�, what happened to Georg?� she asked
timidly.
���� He glanced up sharply.
���� �Some of the Searchers - they said that he
went mad, shouting things about Before and-�
���� �He�s not mad,� Andr� interrupted solemnly.
�Georg is not mad.�
���� �Then why?� she asked, afraid. �Why did he
leave the Camp?�
���� Andr� was silent for a moment, pensive in
the growing darkness. He finally shifted in his seat and caught her eye in the
flickering light.
���� �What did you hear?� he asked finally. �What
did you hear Georg say about Before?� He said the word like most did, like it was
forbidden.
���� �Well, he said that Before
was not ancient...and - and that we had only just forgotten or had been made to
forget and that we-�
���� She stopped her nervous rambling when Andr�
raised his hand to silence her.
���� �What if he�s right?�
���� Silence, then finally: �Right?�
���� She looked at him with large eyes, like he was insane. Fear rose in his stomach.
���� �I have to go,� he said hurriedly, rising
and turning towards the entrance.
���� �Wait!� she exclaimed, gripping his arm
with icy fingers. �Tell me!�
���� �Tell you what?� he asked nervously,
averting his eyes and trying to move away.
���� �You know what,� she answered sternly,
lowering her voice. �Tell me what it is that Georg saw. Tell me what made him
say those things,� she urged, still clinging to his arm.
���� �I...�
���� �Andr�, please.�
���� He carefully removed her fingers from his
arm, sighing and placing a hand on the heavy canvas flap of the tent, turning
towards her once more, before disappearing into the dark night.
���� �He saw himself.�
