The Universal Seam

The Universal Seam

  By Deborah Weetman

  Copyright 2012 Deborah Weetman

  The Universal Seam

  A lone rider sat astride a mythical creature upon a razor-edge ridge. Silver sawdust bathed its hooves and he spoke. I saw his mouth moving but there was no sound. I strained to listen but nothing. It was like an invisible screen separated us. Then, as my energy flowed into an unknown source, the physical surroundings became real and I could hear him now:

  ‘Madaria!’

  I recognised the foreign name as mine, although I did not understand why, for it did not belong to me. I responded, kicking my heels into the belly of my winged horse. Grenus exploded into flight, I was with him in an instant.

  ‘Danik – what is this, where am I?’

  *

  I stirred, as if from reverie, my emerald dress wrinkled around my humid body, as the giant pyramid of Giza materialised in front of me. A dream, I rationalised to myself but the niggle of doubt consumed me. Was this not a trail of intrigue beckoning me? Had I not, dissatisfied and disillusioned, reached out for answers to the age old question of who am I? And as I sat on the balcony of ‘The Mena House’, listening to the shouting, honking, cursing sounds of Egypt, I knew Cairo was the link. But where to start?

  ‘Madaria’ – that is what he called me. I flipped open my lap top and googled ‘Madaria’. A link popped up that caught my attention – ‘Madaria – said to be the last surviving member of the Moderatican Royal family, brutally slain 2 million years ago.’

  A tremor rippled through my body as I attempted to discard the images rising in my consciousness. But as fast as I shut one door of my mind another one opened to a new, disturbing image. I forced myself out of the chair, making my way to the bathroom, not thinking, just focussing on the intricate blue mosaic patterned across the wall. I stood under the luke warm water of the shower and tried to think of an excursion I could join the next day but it was no use. I cried out in protest, trying to concentrate on the shards of water prickling my skin but the thoughts were too powerful, invading my consciousness, forcing me to look.

  Later I lay on my bed and fell into a troubled sleep. He came to me in my dreams, calling me, nudging my awareness. A part of me fought the truth as I clung to anonymity and ignorance but another part was desperately reaching out to know myself, to discover the identity I had always known was buried within me. I allowed him in. He tugged me and I was there, again, on Moderatica, that place of wonder, seated by a sparkling stream of lavender flowing through a wrinkled valley. He sat with me this time and he spoke:

  ‘Madaria, my beautiful Madaria’.

  I went to question him but he silenced me with a kiss, those soft, probing lips that I had felt before, his tongue that brought me alive in a place long forgotten. Eventually he drew away and I looked at him, shaken, longing but listening.

  ‘We created a new life for you on earth where you could live quite normally but there was a time foreseen in the future where the Lanarks would discover your existence and your whereabouts and would come after you. That time is almost upon us. We must prepare your rescue so you may return and be rightfully restored to the throne of Moderatica.’

  I looked on in a daze. What he told me could not be real. I was a business executive in Perth, Western Australia. Danik was prepared for my protests and handled each one kindly and with understanding.

  ‘You are not safe here. I must return you to earth, for now.’

  ‘But what am I doing in Cairo – why did you coax me here? Why couldn’t I just have stayed at home?’ I blabbered.

  Danik explained there was a breach in the universe, in a cave just outside Cairo. It was a physical link between earth and Moderatica. Once upon a time there was free travel between the planets of the universe until a paranoid leader considered this a threat and had them all sealed. Through the passage of time they were forgotten and dismissed as legend. More recently the seal between earth and Moderatica began to split which revealed its existence to the Lanarks and the discovery of Madaria’s existence. Now the Lanarks were planning an invasion of earth to take over rule, as they had on Moderatica and to seek out and destroy the final link of the Moderatican Royal family, Madaria.

  It was too much to digest. My mind swam with a hundred questions. I could not confront what I was being told and as if in answer to my overwhelm, the scene faded and I once again was lying in my bed, in ‘The Mena House’, in Cairo. I was shaken, tired, nauseous and wanted to run; back to Perth, back to security and predictability. I decided I would pack my bags and leave the next day; run away and pretend I had never heard the words Danik had uttered.

  As if reading my thoughts, a knock sounded on my door. I burrowed into the bed covers, willing whoever it was to go away but:

  ‘Lara, it’s Danik – open the door.’

  He called me Lara, my name. Perhaps it had all been a dream, after all. I opened the door and fell into his arms.