Shanakee's Tale Read online

  His lips touched hers with a sensation of a universe imploding, and exploding again. John pulled her closer to himself, intensifying the kiss like something he had longed for in a long time. A small voice in Aideen told her to protest, to stop. But she couldn’t. She did not want to. Instead, she abandoned herself into his embrace, allowing herself one single moment of weakness.

  John was not intimidated, he was sure of every movement as if it was happening for a thousandth time, undressing her, tenderly wrapping her into the warm blanket again. Aideen felt a contradictory sensation of safety and danger in his presence, and it was the danger that allured her. She craved it as she craved him. And while she felt her skin against his warmth, she knew that John was as fascinating as he was dangerous.

  ARTHUR

  “To understand future, we need to understand the nature of time,” Conall’s voice resounded between the construction work of the house. He loved babbling about his science stuff, and Sena was the only one who listened with genuine fascination. “Centuries ago, the relativity principle showed that time is not some sort of clock in the sky that ticks at the same rate for everyone.”

  Arthur sighed.

  His father had assigned all three boys to building the house with the newcomer, probably with the secret intent to initiate a reconciliation between them, seeing full well how their friendship had crumbled over the past weeks. But Arthur was only annoyed because it prevented him from hunting practice. And he hated Conall’s long monologues nearly as much as he hated being near John.

  John, who had seized the opportunity to play the hero and take care of Aideen. Up until this day, she knew nothing of what Arthur had done for her in the meantime, and she had also avoided him since. At least, she avoided John even more evidently. Whatever happened back in the forest, it didn’t put John in a good position.

  “I myself find it hard to grasp,” Conall continued, “that time is neither universal nor separate from space. Every individual has his own personal measure of time according to the theory of relativity.”

  Blah, blah, blah. He was talking a lot about time, it occurred to Arthur.

  “So what does it depend on?” Sena replied.

  “It depends on where you stand and how you are moving,” Aideen’s voice resounded in-between the stones and piles of wood, and Arthur instantly looked up, “Your mother sent me with some food.”

  She smiled, and carried a basket with bread, meat and ale. It smelled delicious, but her appearance was enough to enchant Arthur.

  “Welcome to our amazing world in which a clock in motion ticks slower than a stationary one, and a stick will start to get shorter at great speeds,” Conall replied. It was like they had formed a secret pact with their theories and science language Arthur was not at all interested in.

  “So you have created this program, this algorithm that predicted time with absolute accuracy?” Now John joined in on the conversation, carrying more building stones on a cart. Aideen made a step back, and her smile vanished. She avoided his looks at all costs.

  Conall nodded.

  “Me and … a former friend. 99.99% of accuracy, to be precise.”

  “What did it show you?” Sena wondered.

  Conall made a deep breath. Clearly, those memories held hidden emotions.

  “The absolute collapse of the world and its economy if we didn’t make radical changes.”

  “But how could it be so accurate?” John again, trying to sound intelligent.

  “Well, there is the principle of causation. Patterns of the past are repeated in the future. And those patterns help us foresee the future. Ergo, the future of the world can be mapped out and pictured.” While Conall went on, Aideen began unpacking the basket, and Arthur went to help her. “The more systems in the universe are added to the equation—nature, psychology, sociology, technology, economy—the more accurate the prediction. And our algorithm could consider endless universal laws and systems. But to say that something is determined does not mean that it’s inevitable.”

  During those last words, John threw a look towards Aideen that disgusted Arthur. Not that the look was improper, it was just familiar, intimate, and spoke of a connection between them Arthur envied. When he looked at Aideen, she had suddenly turned pale.

  “Let’s take a break,” Conall said.

  As if they haven’t been taking breaks all day long.

  Arthur rolled his eyes. He wanted to move on, get this construction over with to go back hunting, and away from those eggheads.

  “So does it mean that it was some sort of machine that allowed you to travel in time?” Sena continued asking those ridiculous questions while they sat down. Aideen was still pale as a ghost, and Arthur began to worry.

  Conall laughed.

  “Not really, at least not into the past. Time always moves forward. If we go wrong in space, we can just go the other direction. But time is irreversible.”

  Arthur unpacked the meat and opened his mouth for a huge bite when suddenly, Aideen ran off without any warning, and the sound of vomiting resounded around the corner. Everybody grew quiet as they eyed each other back and forth. Arthur still held the meat in his hands, paused in the middle of the movement, mouth still open. Then, he shrugged, and took a bite.

  AIDEEN

  Aideen entered the hut she was living in for several months now. She had just thrown up, for the third time today, and for at least five days in a row. During all those five days, she felt incredibly sick, especially in the mornings and at the sensation of certain smells. She had never felt that sick in her entire life, especially because in the cities, there was proper health monitoring and every illness was defeated before it even began. Was it the food? The nervousness?

  She slid down the wall into a crouch and buried her face in her palms, trying to breathe away this sickening feeling. Steps echoed in the hut. As she looked up, she saw Margaret crouch next to her. Margaret was a great hostess and a cynical woman with a certain distaste for life and a love for irony. Aideen quickly came to enjoy her companionship.

  Margaret fell silent for a moment, and also leaned back against the stone wall that was cold as ice.

  “What will you do now?” she whispered.

  “See how I can adjust.”

  “So you intend to keep it?”

  Aideen looked up.

  “Keep what?”

  Margaret studied her face for a second.

  “The child.”

  Aideen jerked back, eyes wide.“What?”

  There was the expression of pity in Margaret’s eyes, and she put her hand on Aideen’s arm. Her skin felt rugged from the daily work.

  A child? No. This couldn’t be. She had to be mistaken.

  There were no words that Aideen could find to express the shock. She just felt how warm tears rolled down her cheeks. It was a child, wasn’t it? Now that Margaret said it out loud, Aideen realized that she had somehow known from the first day on.

  “I’m sorry.” Margaret whispered, “Let me help you. Nobody will know.”

  Aideen nodded, brushing the tears away that still kept coming. A child would mean her downfall. The destruction of every plan, everything she had dedicated her life to. How could she have been so foolish, so profoundly stupid?

  “Yes. If it’s a child, I don’t want it.”

  Margaret nodded.

  “Say no more. I’ll be back soon.”

  With this, she left Aideen to suffocate in loneliness.

  SENA

  The streets of the village were deserted, it was getting late already. Sena ran, looking for John. He finally found him as he was leaving Conall’s still unfinished hut, at the far end of the village. He pushed him hard, suppressing the sudden urge to punch him in the face.

  “What’s wrong with you?” John protested, and Sena looked at him with spiteful eyes.

  “It was you, wasn’t it? The night in the forest … How could you do this to her?”

  He pushed him again, and John became angry.
r />   “What are you talking about?”

  “So this you don’t know, do you? I thought you knew everything!” Sena’s tone was mocking. His inner voice told him to calm down, to keep his voice low or else people might hear them, but he couldn’t. It was as if his anger carried the darkness inside of him, the demons he tried so hard to bury deep down where nobody would find them.

  “Sena,” John said, his voice as calm as ever, “What is it?”

  Sena made a pause, and took a deep breath.

  “Aideen’s pregnant.”

  John made a step back, his eyes wide. Sena paused, watching at this man he used to call friend. He never thought John would be capable of such a thing. Now he realized that he hardly knew him.

  “She is devastated,” Sena whispered through clenched teeth. “She wants to get rid of it. You have to talk to her … And if you won’t be there for her, I swear …”

  The anger in Sena resurfaced yet again. How could John have treated her like that, diminished and humiliated a woman that was so special, so different?

  “I’ll be there.” John said, steadfast, “Where …”

  But before he could finish, a loud cry resounded from between the houses, and Arthur came running towards John like an infuriated bear. He threw himself at him with full force, pushing both their bodies to the wet ground, hammering his fists into John’s body and face.

  “You traitor! Scum!”

  Arthur yelled all kinds of insults while his blows kept coming. Sena hurried to tear him away, only to collect another blow himself. The anger inside of him rose, and with a loud cry, he lifted his fist and slammed it into Arthur’s face. Arthur flew onto his side, astonished by the force of the blow. But it only took him a second to recover. He ran towards Sena, and before they knew it, all three of them were in the middle of a desperate fistfight.

  It was only when Alasdair’s strong hands seized Arthur, and his voice drowned their sounds of battle that the boys parted.

  “Enough!” MacIan sounded like the roar of thunder. “What is this? All of this? Isn’t it enough that the soldiers butcher us, but now you start a dispute in-between yourselves!”

  Arthur was out of breath. John’s nose was bleeding and Sena’s skull buzzed.

  “He got Aideen pregnant,” Arthur said without hesitation, and he had such disdain and bitterness in his voice that Sena threw him an unbelieving glance. Alasdair looked over to John.

  “Is this true?”

  John nodded, slowly rising from the ground.

  A silence enveloped them. Sena looked back and forth between those two boys he had grown up with, the bitterness and pain of disappointment creeping inside his chest.

  What would Alasdair do to John, who had ignored his instructions? Ban him from the village? Sena cursed Arthur. Didn’t he know how hard it was to raise a child on your own?

  He didn’t. It was only Sena who knew what it meant to have no father.

  With a head movement, Alasdair motioned John closer and the two of them walked for several steps for a private conversation. The disappointment in Sena’s expression had to be very apparent, as Arthur could not hold the gaze and lowered his head, moving away. But Sena didn’t try to hide it. This time, Arthur had gone too far. Both of them had.

  After several minutes, John ran off. Sena watched him leave while the sun was setting. He followed with slow steps, strolling across the village, not knowing what to think of this whole mess. He just wished things could go back to normal, but deep down, he knew that they never would.

  As he approached his hut, the front door stood slightly ajar. At the fire, he could see how John and Aideen spoke. Sena smiled bitterly. There was so much pain behind the smile. As he watched Aideen slowly wipe her tears away, brush her red hair to the side and absently watch the fire while her thoughts still rattled in those green eyes, he knew that he would always love her. Over the past weeks, she had grown so dear to him. She was the only one who had never made fun of him, on the contrary, she seemed to understand the ceaseless search for a deeper truth that nagged at him, and it was as if she was slowly guiding him to find it. As if with her, life suddenly made more sense.

  In that moment, Sena knew that he would never be able to forgive John.

  AIDEEN

  The silence at the other end of the line made Aideen uneasy. Regret saturated her chest. She just wanted to reverse time and this terrible mistake she had made.

  Time always moves forward, the voice of Conall rung in her head. If we go wrong in space, we can just go the other direction. But time is irreversible.

  Silence.

  Aideen wore the earpiece while she went on a lonely walk around the mountains. It was her who had called Manasseh. She considered it the only sensible thing to do, but now, she was not so sure anymore.

  “This is really unfortunate.” The way Manasseh said those words made a cold shiver run down her spine.

  She had always been afraid of the man. He was unpredictable as he was shrewd, but he was also a genius. It hurt to disappoint him more than she had assumed. What would he do now? Remove her from the mission maybe. This was her biggest fear, because this mission had been everything to her. She needed to find Prometheus and terminate his existence before anyone could lay hands on him. But the months in this village had given her nothing. Except for … John. The still small voice inside of her whispered that it was him. But she refused to believe it.

  “You can’t return to the city, nobody can know.”

  Pregnancy was a highly complicated matter. Although forbidden by the law, it still raised several ethical issues. Most pregnancies were terminated by the mothers themselves, but if they refused … Aideen made a deep breath. She could not return to the city in her state. Especially not as a special agent.

  “You have a year,” Manasseh finally said. “Give birth to the child. It might even help you infiltrate them.”

  Aideen closed her eyes while the wind carried her long hair. One year, pretending to be someone who she wasn’t. But hasn’t she done it her whole life? She had always been wearing masks.

  She forced herself to concentrate on the mission instead. No matter who Prometheus was, she resolved, she would kill him. Even if it was John.

  “But Aideen,” Manasseh continued, and his voice became very urgent. “Always remember that you won’t be able to keep the child.”

  “I don’t want it anyway,” she murmured.

  “You will change your mind soon, believe me. And when it happens, remember that giving it away is only for the best.”

  She remained silent. Giving it away. Like her parents did with her.

  “Aideen?”

  “Yes. I promise.”

  “Contact me only when you’ve found him. It’s too risky.”

  “Alright.”

  With this, he was gone.

  Aideen walked amongst the wilderness of the Highlands for a little while longer. It was too quiet. She preferred the turmoil of the cities—the never ending noise and the masses streaming past each other. Maybe it gave her the illusion that she was not alone. Because this was what she felt right now. Alone. Lost. Void of any purpose but to destroy this world that had made her this way.

  JOHN

  John stood at the edge of the lake, next to the mighty mountains that surrounded the valley. The full moon was perfectly reflected in the water, and the sound of wind and waterfalls flew around his ears. Only moonlight lit the space. He avoided eye contact with Alasdair MacIan, who stood next to him in his traditional Scottish kilt. He had made immediate arrangements, leaving no doubt that this was the only way John could remain in Area Three. The air was cold, and his bare feet touched the icy earth. It was an old Gaelic custom.

  From among the darkness appeared Aideen. She approached with slow steps, her feet bare as his. A linen dress was wrapped around her body. Flowers decorated her red long hair that was braided. Margaret had done a great job, and she probably watched from afar, even if MacIan had allowed no spectators that nigh
t. John stared at Aideen. She looked lost, as if dressed up for a masquerade, and he wanted to stretch out his hand and comfort her, make her understand what she meant to him. But it was no use. It was too soon.

  Here was fate again, dragging him into an eternal abyss. Memories and images haunted his mind while Aideen slowly closed in on him, images of bliss, and images of pain. He saw himself hug his little child, read out loud from a book he’d hidden under his pillow. He saw himself yell in incredible pain that broke both body and spirit. He saw Aideen, vanishing into darkness. Inevitable doom hung over this moment, and John forced himself to remain here, remain now, and enjoy what was given to him.

  He soaked it in, everything about it. Aideen. She would understand far too late. But he couldn’t save her from it. John took her hand in his, and squeezed it, suppressing tears.

  “I promise to love you until the day I die,” John said, looking into her eyes. “To protect you and keep you safe, to respect you and be there for you, and to cherish you until our last moment.”

  The wind carried those words across the valley. Words that John meant with everything inside of him. Words he had heard so many times already.

  Aideen blinked. She hated him, John realized. And it drew a knife into his heart.

  Her first words came like a whisper: “I promise to love you until the day I die …” As soon as they were out, the rest came naturally.

  He smiled, the knowledge that she lied weighing heavy on his shoulders.

  Both of them exchanged iron rings, a gift from John’s grandfather. As Aideen put the ring on his finger, her hands shook. An eternal covenant the city had long forgotten. So naturally, it meant nothing to Aideen. John took her hands into his yet again, calming them down. MacIan wrapped a linen cloth around their hands, murmuring words in old Gaelic John could not understand. But those word were beautiful, held a power hidden in them.