Octopus Intelligence by Timothy Quinn

Author:Timothy Quinn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature
ISBN: 9781550714920
Publisher: Guernica Editions
Published: 2009-08-19T00:00:00+00:00

“Stay in your seat. Everyone close your eyes,” instructs the doctor. “Tell us about your dreams.”

“I dreamt that I’ve returned from many days of battle, weary with victory over the barbarians, and the sun is beating down on us as we make our way west through the desert. It’s been so long since I’ve seen my home. But here we are at last in Alexandria, the city I now know as well as my own, and my eyes are filled with tears at the sight of her palace walls, the pristine waters of her harbour that tempted us when our cisterns ran dry. How valiantly we fought here, besieged within these halls, until we were allowed to prevail . . .”

Albert’s voice has adopted an odd meter, as if in channeling a dead Roman dictator he’s had to compensate for the encroaching static of distance.

“Where is my queen? What does she hold out for me?”

“A bouquet of flowers?” guesses Katie.

“It is a child! Can he truly be my son? Many were the nights I lay with my Egyptian queen and told her of Rome’s wonders. Shall I bring her back now with me to see my cherished home? My men are eager to continue our journey, but first let us linger here and enjoy the warm breeze of the Nile. How long it’s been since I’ve had a moment to rest.”

There’s a lengthy pause.

“Go on.”

“To rest! Why can I not sleep? All have retired and I alone look out over a land that has been built from the drifting sands by child kings. As great as is my own empire, what have we done that is so formidable as to have built opulence where once there was only rock? There is a time for nations just as there is a time for great men, and once that time is past only mediocrity may rise. When all that is wondrous about this world passes, what shall be left? Failing men upon a failing world. Who’s there?”

“Who is it?”

“A servant approaches with a blanket against the cool desert wind. He will not meet my eyes. What am I that strikes such terror into another man’s heart? I feel . . .”

“Alone.”

“– Alone.”

“Uneasy.”

“– Uneasy.”

“Afraid.”

“Not afraid. Humbled. I have been chosen above other men to stretch wide the arms of civilization and sweep the way clear of barbarity. But why do the gods favour me and not others? Why do men crave the heft of my sword as I wield it in battle? Or watch with hungry eyes as I take a woman to be my own? It troubles me not to know what I possess. What is greatness that none but a few may truly claim it?”

“Can anyone tell Albert what greatness is?”

“Doing the right thing at the right time.”

“Courage.”

“Do you see this in your mind, Albert? Can you remember the truth of your power?”

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