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Neana's life is peaceful and
complete. She has good friends, a close brother, a successful art career. She is encircled
by a lively and diverse community life. Then late one night she happens upon a speaker in
the town square and is drawn into the underground world of the fanatic poet Caljn -- and
the Power Movement. Their intent is to destroy the creative leaders of the community, and
maybe the community itself.
Neana knows she has to fight back -- the way they fight -- underground.
So her life unravels within the curtains of her everyday existence.
This is a story of real
probabilities, and real challenges. It is then. But it could be now. Neana is in the
middle of it all. With questions and conflicts, hard decisions and not so gentle answers
but with friends who aren't so far away after all. ~ ~ ~
Neana's Prologue
The lamps. That's what comes first
to my mind when I think back on those days. A previously pleasant but minor item in the
background of my life. The lamps that gently lit the nighttime activities in the town
Square. Music, poetry, dances, discussions. Fun and interesting activities for a gentle
and diverse community. But occasionally, as I found out, the setting for something not so
peaceful. For someone with a hidden agenda, a deliberately destructive one. Someone named
Caljn. Who preached the worst of the old religions mixed with the worst of the old
scientific beliefs. Caljn and the Power Movement, who wanted to recreate in our lively but
peaceful community his distorted and destructive version of the late twentieth century.
Not that we really know what life was like back
then, so much has been lost, so much has changed. The land masses are different, of
course, and the weather. And apparently so is our awareness and psychic knowledge and
spiritual consciousness. At least, that appears to be the case. We certainly have our
troubles and challenges to deal with today, but I guess it was much worse back then.
Though certainly it wasn't as bad as Caljn depicted it. With repression and
narrow-mindedness and intolerance as the blueprints for living. Why would anyone want to
live that way? Especially today.
But Caljn wanted to, and Valjar, and the
others.And it was my community, my friends, my life they wanted to destroy. When I fell
into their world, when I discovered what they were up to, I had no choice but to get
involved. It was too important to just walk away.
Trouble was, I wasn't prepared for people like
that. Even if I'd had more than my twenty-seven years of living behind me, I don't think I
would have known how to deal with them. How to deal with their effect on me. Jahon still
says I was wrong in the way I went about it. Some days I agree with him. But some days I
think I would do it the same way again. Maybe Shahvid, my older brother and the whole of
my family, is right, maybe I am just plain stubborn. I prefer to think of it as living
life artistically and independently. But I did learn. We all learned. Some lessons were
easier than others. And some I'd rather not think about at all.
I came into the middle of it all several months
ago when I first heard Caljn speak to a small crowd in the Square. But my part and this
story really began the night I took my information, and plan, to Starpeace. When, by
putting into words those well hashed out thoughts, I put into motion the events that added
a few new experiences to my life, and the lives of my close friends. Stress, chaos,
anxiety, confrontation, violence. Previously abstract words, soon to become familiar
companions.
Starpeace. The underground fighters for freedom
and peace. Real freedom and real peace. The kind that comes with responsibility. The kind,
and the people, that Caljn and his Power Movement were working so determinedly to destroy.
Regular people, yet not so regular when you looked close. People like Chanthan and Sinat
and Sushati. Even Rafnon. It's hard to believe that I didn't know who they were then, who
Starpeace was. Knowing now that they had never been so very far from me at all. But I
didn't know, and that night I headed into a new part of my life. Thankfully more positive
than my association with Caljn had been. But at the time it was simply another of the
growing number of challenges I had to deal with.
The fight of people like Starpeace against the
Power Movement types is not new of course, above or below ground. It has been going on for
centuries. But this battle was mine, was ours. It was too real and too close.
Thinking back to that night, my first meeting with
Starpeace, I can almost feel the soft, warm breeze against my face as I had walked along
the paths. The anxiety churning inside me that didn't match the calm and peaceful
surroundings. A different path and it would have been a different story, a different
ending. But these are the decisions I made, and these are the paths I took, independent
of, yet closely entwined with those around me.
excerpt from "The Last Lamp" by Sue Robishaw, copyright 1996
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Chapter One
~~~~~~~ SUNDAY
~night~~~~~~~~~~~~~~one~~~
The decision had been made and there I was.
Walking along a path in near darkness, from lamplight to lamplight, heading toward
Starpeace, whoever they were. The soft light from the lamps didn't seem to help much as
their daylight energy was fading naturally into the night. I wished for some moonlight.
But it wasn't really light I needed, it was courage.
Caljn and the Power Movement had to be stopped. I
knew I couldn't do it myself. But it wasn't the kind of thing I wanted to share with my
friends. The Power Movement were not pleasant people. And any association with them could
have been dangerous. Certainly trying to stop them would. Starpeace was my hope. But I
didn't even know for sure who they were. Just a sort of underground reputation. And an
overheard comment or two. A little deliberate digging. And not a little luck. It would all
bring me, I hoped, to them, to their meeting that night. I was sure it was the right thing
to do.
So why was I shivering in spite of the warm
breeze? I turned onto a lesser used path. The packed earth felt firm and comfortable
beneath my sandals. There was no reason to be afraid. This was a safe and peaceful
community. I'd walked all over it, day and night, for most of my life. Of course, I hadn't
known about Caljn and his friends all those years. But they weren't into individual
attacks, their goals went much higher. Or lower as the case may be.
But my anxiety was real and I knew the cause
wasn't just the Power Movement. I hoped I was blending into the night as Kasho says I do,
with my brown robe, dark hair and brown skin. I didn't mind occasionally being the center
of attention, but not that night, not on my way there. If Caljn or the Power Movement had
found out what I was about to do . . .
It was no use dwelling on that, I told myself, or
them, or their plans. They were a reality but they would be stopped. They had to be. I
wouldn't think of any other possibility. I slowed my steps and turned onto a path beside a
wide alley. The houses and yards sat comfortably back on my left, close enough together,
but not too close. They looked shadowy in the dim light, with all their trees keeping a
sentinel watch. I shivered again.
I was being ridiculous. It was time to get
something less negative in my mind. Jahon floated through, my brother's best friend and,
usually, a comfortable friend of mine. But his harsh comments the previous week about my
association with Caljn jumped out at me, again, and I shoved him and them away. He, and my
brother Shahvid, could be so irritating and overbearing at times. I was glad they didn't
know what I was involved in. That was one confrontation I certainly wouldn't have wanted.
But there was no reason to think they would find out.
That line of thought wasn't helping. I put my
hands in my pockets and concentrated on where I was. I knew I must be getting close. I
looked carefully at the houses in the area. But which one was it? And how was I going to
get them to let me in? This wasn't exactly a public invited meeting. I shrugged. It would
work out when I got there. I certainly hadn't come this far to turn back just because I
was nervous. Or because Jahon or Shahvid might have disapproved. Not that they would
disapprove of Starpeace. But of what I had planned I wasn't so sure.
The wind picked up for a moment, busily rustling
the bushes beside me. I stopped and scanned the nearest ouse. That had to be it. Turning,
I retraced a few steps and started down the stone path toward the place. It was a low,
quiet building, set into a small rise. I didn't see any lights on inside, but I was sure
this was the one.
Suddenly I felt . . . something. I hesitated and
looked carefully around. There were no lamps glowing here, just pale starlight. The bushes
and plants, close on either side of the walk, were quietly alive with night life. I
smelled lavender, and maybe basil.
Two men jumped from the shadows. Startled, I
almost screamed then caught it back. I whirled around but before I could think one of the
men had his hand over my mouth and my arms pinned to my side. His partner tied a cloth
across my eyes and another across my mouth. They didn't give me a chance to say anything.
I struggled. One of them tied my wrists together. They weren't small men, and certainly
weren't gentle. Without saying a word they hurried me between them down the uneven stone
path. My feet automatically kept pace.
I was so shocked at the unexpected attack that my
mind stopped for a moment - then made up for it with thoughts and images chasing each
other in and out. Nightmare thoughts. Meantime, my body continued to react hard,
struggling with all it had against the bonds. One of the men gave me a shake and hissed a
quiet "Shsh!". They were apparently concerned about keeping the encounter quiet.
I just wanted to pull this suddenly chaotic experience together, and get free. This wasn't
what I had planned, to say the least. And I hadn't a clue as to what to do.
Struggling, pulling, twisting, our strangely
silent battle moved quickly on toward the house. My captors pushed and pulled me along,
not responding to my restricted fight.
We reached the door and the men pulled me into the
house. We started down some wooden stairs. My mind settled on what was happening. My
stomach cramped with fear, and my energieswhirled. chosen the wrong house? Was I headed
for the wrong meeting? The thought turned my whole body cold.
The men stopped at the bottom and I checked my
awkward descent. One of them opened a door and stepped through, bringing me with him. His
partner was close behind. Brightness came through around the edges of the cloth across my
eyes. As I fought to get my bearings I was hit with a storm of emotions and impressions
which collided roughly with my own. The world whirled uneasily. I felt voices rather than
heard them.
One of the men said something and gave me a small
push forward. I stumbled as I tried to bring everything together and step ahead. My eyes
strained uselessly to see. The world was tipping. I pulled desperately to free my hands
and catch myself. As I fell toward the floor I heard a strong voice near me ringing,
"What the hell . . . ?!" I thought I felt a hand, but I was on the floor before
it connected, leaving my body resting at the man's feet. My mind and self felt like they
were somewhere else.
"Well?" The man's voice was quiet,
strong, tinged with anger. He knelt down beside me and started working on the knots of the
gag. I very carefully kept still, my eyes closed. I could feel my hair and robe were
spread brown across the floor and I wanted to pull myself back in. But my wrists were
still tightly bound, and I felt it safer to keep quiet. I was disoriented. I couldn't see
the people in the room but I could feel the emotions, and it felt crowded. The silence was
tight as no one said anything. I thought I should recognize the voice of the man who spoke
but I couldn't focus. Yet I felt I was watching the whole scene in a strange clear way, as
if from a corner of the ceiling. Hearing not only the words but the thoughts as well ...
~~~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~~~
excerpt from "The Last Lamp" by Sue Robishaw, copyright 1996
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