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BOOKS Shaphan    
    Shaphan made his way back through the house with a glass of water in one hand and the manuscript in the other. Having successfully navigated the stairway, avoiding BevelynnÍs handbag and a pile of washing, he once more settled into bed and tried to shut his eyes and shut down his mind.

The arc of time brings the right into doubt? I must stop thinking about the Oladians and their stupid sayings?

He glanced at the clock, 2.16am it glowed at him, just less than four hours until the infernal thing went off. Bevelynn stirred as he turned on the little side lamp and started reading, once more trying to understand why he felt so drawn to the writings of this mythical people he wasnÍt sure had ever really existed.

Shaphan awoke; light still on, head resting on chest and his neck screaming at him as soon as he tried to move it. For the last two weeks each night had been pretty much the same, his work was beginning to suffer, the usually patient Bevelynn was getting edgy and his eyes were shouting out to everyone he met that he had something on his mind.

Something on my mind, if only that something had a name, if only It had a reason, or a voice ..., anything that might give me a chance to figure this something out or deal with it or even pass the problem on to someone else.

Shaphan did a lot of that; he had spent the last ten years working for a branch of government known as the Management of Justice in Social Affairs. The last two years of that he had found himself running the show, this always amused him because of all the people he knew he was the least qualified to manage anything, especially not a group of people managing another group of people. But if there was one thing he liked about his role it was the power of delegation.

This however was different, so different in fact that it took him to the edge of fear and tempted him to jump. This was definitely not the sort of thing Shaphan could just ask someone else to sort out for him, or leave in one of his teamÍs in-tray with a note asking him or her to return to him when completed. No, this was personal, more than that it was almost as if it were a part of him, burrowing into his mind, stretching long cold arms into the furthest reaches of his nervous system, searching tirelessly for a way into his heart?

He had no way of knowing that today would finally bring the moment it found what it was looking for.

In ShaphanÍs world, War had begun?

~

It was the one hundred and seventy seventh year of the fifteenth cycle of Navor or 177N15 for short. The SeasonÍs Turn celebrations were becoming a fading memory and life was returning to normal again in the main town of the Northern Province.

For as long as anyone cared to remember, Brancan had been the centre for the worldÍs government and was a place where order reigned supreme. In actual fact (not that anyone seemed to be interested anymore) the world government had been set up eighty four years and six cycles earlier in the very spot where the Ten Governors sat each Turn to update and improve the Absolute Truth by which the world was run. Nobody really considered that revolutionary event back in 93N9 anymore, when Tarby the Just had finally subdued the Alcatels and the Mempelins paving the way for the cycle of Peace that was to follow. Even in BrancanÍs many centres for learning and improvement there were only vague and fleeting references to that moment in time which had almost single-handedly shaped the future. Never, did any event before this time receive even a glimmer of light.

This was not because the people had become ignorant or no longer appreciated what this great man had done for their world. Rather they were ashamed of their history, they chose to forget the cycles of war, of hate and of division. No, these people had become a good people. They preferred to think about the times that had followed: from the cycle of Peace had come the Cycles of: Union, of Growth, of Plenty and of Strength right through to the current time, the Cycle of Advancement. This was not a time to look back at troubles, but to invest in knowledge to improve themselves and to make better the already wonderful world in which they lived.

'The past is dead, only today can give life to tomorrow' as Governor Stovan always said. He had a way with words, a way which seemed to point out poignant truths to others about issues which appeared to have had another opinions attached to them just moments before. Governor Stovan was not a conversationalist he had no need to be and certainly didnÍt have the time. Despite this he worked well with the other Governors; after all they were all reading from the same book.

The Absolute Truth came into being in 207N9 and if Tarby the JustÍs contribution to the world had been important then this was momentous, the start of a new world. In reality this was the birth of the cycle of peace. The absolute truth had a permanent place in the history books, everybody knew its purpose, everybody knew its beginning and everyone knew its message.

This book, which had over the years grown into a volume of books, was the basic principal by which the land was ruled. The Governors controlled its contents; they knew them and enforced them. Nobody ever questioned the Absolute Truth or the Governors, why should they? Both were always right and both had always served the world very well. As the name of this book suggests it was what kept life going in such a prosperous fashion and no one saw any reason to change a system that worked so well.

Accept of course the Governors who met every year at Seasons Turn to update and improve according to their superior wisdom and understanding. In recent times these changes had become small and insignificant, token gestures almost as if the Governors needed to do something just to fulfil the worldÍs traditions. No, the Absolute Truth was perfect, an answer to every question and the reason behind every cause.

~

Near the middle of the 2nd volume of The Absolute Truth, in a chapter headed Fables there was a small section about a group of people known as The Oladians. It read:

Long ago in a time before records began and when the Alcatels ruled a world without order and without cause, there came the seers. These people promised a new message of hope to the world and were supposed to have magical powers and prophetic sight. They called themselves the Oladians and claimed no beginning and no end.

Legends of the Oladians have been passed on through the ages and many stories are commonly told as bedtime tales or taught in ChildrenÍs 1st Learning Classes. These stories are in themselves harmless but must remain in the realms of fable since they have no bearing on modern society and the push for improvement.


Shaphan folded up the piece of paper and placed it back on his bedside table. He still couldnÍt believe he had copied something out of the great book.

These stories are in themselves harmless? they have no bearing on modern society? But I live in modern society, I spend all day trying to implement modern society, I attend lectures on the benefits of modern society, I give lectures on the justice in modern society, I have copied something out of the Absolute Truth, commiting one of the great sins of modern society. In fact IÍm even questioning it. No?, of course IÍm not?, I canÍt be?, I must be? or I wouldnÍt be having this conversation with myself. Talking to myself as well now. This has got to stop before I start debating the virtues of Governor Stovans SeasonÍs Turn address, which now I think of it was rather dull and IÍm sure his hat was too big, and?

Shaphan chuckled out loud as he recalled more nonsensical detail of the ceremony. This time Bevelynn awoke and questioned the light and the laugh.

ñGo back to sleep dear,î he whispered, ñit was nothingî Moments later the alarm clock added its charm to the dance now faltering its way around his head. Slowly grasping the reality of his situation Shaphan realised that once again his mind had robbed him of a nights sleep and he began the long trawl to the bathroom. This time BevelynnÍs handbag was ready for him.

I say war had begun, because in essence, thatÍs what it was. Not just a skirmish or a fight, but a full-blown, ruthless and deadly conflict and this was the day it began.

It was not a war that would get recorded in history and certainly not added to the Absolute Truth. For it was fought not on land and sea, nor in the heights of a stormy wind torn sky. No, its stage was in a manÍs heart and in his head and would finally shake the very being of Shaphan the True.

And who am I to know all this, who am I to speak with authority on the very depths of this manÍs mind, to journey through his soul and release the secrets kept there? I am the voice of a distant mind, the wisdom of a thousand lives, the very consciousness of time. I am the last Oladin.

~

Have you ever talked to yourself. Debated the issuses of life with your heart whilst journeying the endless avenues and highways of your mind. Have you ever let your thoughts wonder so far from their purpose that it took you a second or two to draw them back to reality, or have you ever told yourself a little white lie and then told another to cover it up.
Shapen had a lot on his mind, it wasnÍt the kind of thing he could just go and talk over with a colleague or even a close friend, in fact talking it over in his head was causing more puzzle than peace.

This is the story of a journey. Not a journey over a vast distance, or through treacherous lands, neither is it a journey in which time plays its hand to any great effect. It is the story of a man in the midst of change, of dispute and of pain. It is not the struggle over the right or wrong or a battle for a new bright hope amidst a dark horizon. But it is never the less an awesome pitch, and frantic tussle for it takes place in the heart. A battle of good against good intention and of truth verses a contentious mind.

In Shapen's world war had begun...
   
         
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