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A.R.Yngve DARC AGES _________________________ |
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Bes Orbes & Ue Yota |
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Chapter 13
"I greet you, Sir Darc," Bor said in a formal, respectful tone. "And this, my friends, is the man we have waited for. Behold the Singing King reincarnated, arrived from the Golden Age after his long frozen sleep!" Darc entered the packed room and Surabot locked the door from outside. He was instantly surrounded by guests from the banquet: Bor Damon, Osanna, Andon Pasko, Lord Ue Yota and his wife, Lord Bes Orbes and family... only Inu and Lord Azuch Fache were missing; probably the room was too crowded for him in his injured state. They all fell silent. The awed guests held a respectful distance. The ladies were somehow even more winsome than before, in spite of the fact that they had taken off most of their electronic jewelry. Osanna Damon's blue eyes were moist, her long hair combed straight and shining in golden tones. The faith was strong in her, her thoughts almost showing: You are the one. I believe, I heard you sing. I love you. Please do not turn away from us. I love you. This was going to be hard, Darc told himself. He tried to think hateful thoughts, tried to despise these fat tyrants and their spoiled, privileged families -- but he just couldn't. He could only be angry with Bor Damon, the only man who could possibly know Darc for who he really was – Bor, the cynical politician who never betrayed a softer feeling. Damn you for saving my life! Well, I'll show you some of your own game. I'll come out on top of this, whichever way it ends. I'm nobody's puppet. The guests waited for Darc to talk. He realized that he had been standing quietly for a whole minute, and cleared his throat. With a serious expression, he made the greeting gesture. "Greetings, lords and ladies. I apologize for not having mastered your language just yet..." Outside the chamber, Dohan was waving his fists at the indifferent robots who blocked the door. Librian was right behind him, more anxious than agitated. "But I am his son, damn you! Step aside!" Surabot replied: "Exclusive meeting, my lord. Lord Damon's orders. I apologize, my lord." "So let us get to the point," Darc told the assembled nobles, who had not yet spoken a word to him. "You want me to pretend I am the reincarnated Singing King, right? And some of you think I really am him, right? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I am just David Archibald, frozen alive nine centuries ago. I have never tried to be someone else. "But surely I can be of help to you. We can come to some sort of understanding, my lords. I still remember many things from my own age... not just the songs! But powerful knowledge! Things that could be of great help to your people!" Bor Damon's facial color turned white with red spots here and there -- he was on the verge of a busted vein. Too late he understood that he had underestimated Darc. "You possess knowledge which did not yet exist in my time," Darc elaborated. "Fusion power, thinking robots, cures for cancer... but you did not create this knowledge. It is old, very old. And I know things that you have forgotten. But it is not enough to just tell you those things. What you need, is a method... we called it 'science'. A certain way of thinking. It will make you free, and more powerful than you can ever imagine." There was a price for science too -- Darc knew that all too well. But that was his only trump card, and he was betting his life on it, just as he had done 900 years ago. Finally, after a minute's silence, the message began to sink into the most flexible minds in the room -- starting with Bor: "I think, Sir Darc... that you should not upset the delicate souls of the noble ladies here. Perhaps if we had a little pause here, an intermission..." But the greed for knowledge had already been awakened; the other lords were not going to let Bor yank their prize away. "Please excuse me!" Lord Yota shouted eagerly, bowing deeply and swiftly to Darc. The wiry little man fixed the tall visitor with his black eyes. "Sir Darc, could this knowledge help us find a weapon to fight the Paskos' new breed of fighting robot? Could you help us build an... atomic robot?" Lord Yota half whispered the last sentence. Darc was struck by a sobering unease, and replied: "Now take it easy, my lord. You want mass destruction, go build your own weapons. I would never do that for you, even if I could. But I do have some special knowledge." He hesitated -- he had no words for it in their tongue. "I have great knowledge of... 'Genetic Engineering' -- nothing spectacular, maybe. I know how to change the 'DNA', the human cell memory. My company produced 'vaccines' for the whole world. But I would not use that knowledge to --" Lord Yota reeled back in wide-eyed horror; he cried something in a Chinese-sounding dialect Darc hadn't heard before: "Baokimi! Baokimi! Buwei mono!" In the next moment, Lord Orbes grabbed a rusty broadsword that hung from the wall. The crowd scattered away from Darc, and Lord Orbes raised the sword to cut him down. Staring at the baffled white-haired stranger, he screamed: "Die, evil one!" |
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