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Chapter 11

The room was vast.

Created of what appeared to be hundreds of individual spheres with the interstitial walls removed, all of the same rust colored material I'd seen everywhere in my stay here, it created an effect that was stunning. It reminded me of something I'd seen in my Introduction to Architecture class I took back at Berkeley. Something about fan vaults or coffers or something... the glass-smooth, gracefully arched ceiling rose dramatically overhead in a regular series of scoops.

And it all seemed to go on for about 100 yards or so. The ceiling rose perhaps 30 feet above us. At one end was a raised dais, on which was placed a draped coffin. There were several seats on the dais as well, and a podium at which one might speak or eulogize. Directly behind the coffin was a large, high chair. It was obviously ancient - four hundred years old or more - and just as obviously the seat of power for someone to sit and wield that power.

Joining me on the floor of the large room were serried ranks of about 100 men, all dressed in the same bright yellow I'd seen at the wreck. They stood in muted silence. No one moved, although a few were openly weeping. These were hard men, and I marveled that they could be brought to tears for any reason, much less the loss of one woman. It was, in all, a quite impressive sight.

At that moment, the door to the left of the dais opened and about ten people entered the room. They walked sedately and nobly. Rick was in the lead, followed immediately by a young man who could only be Rick's son. He looked to be in his early 20s and walked with a firm, assured step. He was also not a man to be trifled with, but he, too, wept openly. Occasionally silent sobs racked his body as he crossed the space leading to the dais.

Immediately behind him was the small figure of a woman. Dressed in black and thickly veiled, it was quite impossible to determine anything about her other than that she was also strong and confident. There was a reluctance to her step, however, as though she would bolt at any second. She dutifully followed Rick and his son up the steps leading to the dais and took her place next to them.

After being seated, there was complete silence for five minutes. It seemed like an eternity. There was no motion - even those who had been weeping and would occasionally wipe moisture from their faces stood with heads bowed in humble respect for the deceased. It was still and peaceful and calm.

Suddenly I became aware of a deep voice chanting. It seemed to emanate from all the voices in the room simultaneously and it was impossible to locate who began it. The language was that strange one I'd heard spoken by Rick and his men at the crash site, yet in this form it was base and beautiful, the cadence lending it power and strength. The voices grew stronger and stronger, and I noted that the men in the room were all responsible for the sound. Some were slowly raising their heads and directing their attention toward the casket. The sound grew louder, the cadence remaining sedate and slow. I noted Rick and his son were sounding along with the others, even Rick now weeping openly. In fact, every one was. My children, overcome by the power of the moment, also wept, which of course set me off....

Just as suddenly, the chanting stopped. Rick stood at that moment and said something in that language I did not understand. Then the casket began to descend into the dais, lowered on unseen rollers and straps. As soon as the casket broke the plane of the dais, an incredibly powerful beam of light erupted from beneath the dais, bathing the casket in light as it descended. It was a very dramatic effect, lovely, serene, and reverent.

As the last bit of the casket descended below the dais, the light went out. And when I say the light went out, I should really say - the lights went out. Not only the light below the casket went out, ALL of the lights in the room went out. The room was completely dark. It was that under-the-earth darkness where it is so dark your brain begins to imagine lights that are not really there. Again, profound silence reigned until, once again, the chanting began. This chanting was different than the first. It was strong and quick and lively. The voices were not blended into one deep thrumming, but rather the varied pitches created a beautiful harmony. The chanting began to get faster and faster.

When the chanting reached a fever pitch, a single, brilliant light was illuminated over the throne, casting a beam of intense light onto the great seat of power. It was incredibly dramatic, designed to focus everyone's attention on the center of the room. The small woman, still heavily veiled, slowly ascended the steps leading to the ancient throne. She turned and faced the audience, her black shroud unearthly and grim, but giving a beautiful benediction to the services. The chanting continued, getting louder and reaching a speed unthinkable, while she slowly raised her arms over her head. When they reached their zenith, her hands came together in a clap that was inaudible. No sooner than they did but the chanting stopped abruptly, filling the room with the echoes of the powerful cadence. She clapped again, this time clearly audible in the complete, raptured silence. Then she clapped for the third time.

Rick and his son stood and walked reverently to her side. They each slowly reached out with their right hands and took the corners of her veil. They slowly lifted the veil from her face, uncovering her mouth, her nose, her eyes. Those eyes I knew so well... those eyes I knew like I knew the caverns of my own heart... those eyes that were blue and beautiful and perfect... those eyes that I had come to feel were my very own...

The eyes of Janice, my wife.

Rick said something at this point, and the room erupted in cheers. The sound was deafening as it bounced around the cavernous room, reflected off the smooth, solid ceiling. Janice sat lightly on the chair, bathed in light and looking like a supreme leader.

Which, I suppose on later reflection, she is.

The lights came on at this point, illuminating the room again. Janice remained seated on the throne, speaking to Rick and Rick's son. She was speaking slowly and calmly, seemingly at peace with the world and the events. I don't know if I was more shaken by seeing her revealed like this or the absolute aplomb with which she took them. Then, across the room, our eyes met. She screamed out my name and rushed to me...

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