Catalyst - Chapter 02

Chapter 2

         A seaplane landed us on a large lake in the middle of thick forest. It was late afternoon and, that far north, late afternoon meant the sun had been down for hours. The sky was clear and I could see more stars than the city life ever revealed to me. I expected lodge-style houses and log cabins, even huts, but Ithaca caught me completely by surprise. Stone walls surrounded the village, cutting cleanly through the tight clutches of bush like a knife from the sky. Houses rose up from between the spruces, two stories tall of wood and stone and steel. The settlement was vast. Coming down on the plane much of it was hidden among the brush, but where the walls broke through I could see the boundaries. It seemed to go on forever, snaking through the trees and ensnaring the forest for its own.
         It was winter, and I can never remember being so cold. I clung tightly to my bag as the plane slowly drifted toward the dock, and felt ready to puke with every sway of the aircraft. The propeller was cut and we were met by a group of men who pulled the plane close and tied it down. They were dressed in thick winter coats with hoods drawn over their toques. Every man had a long, deranged looking beard—bestial compared to the grown men in my suburban upbringing. It was as though I had come to another world.
         Jory stepped off first, a giant among them. His ski mask and goggles made him look like a villain out of a Bond film. He exchanged a few words with them, but the wind prevented me from hearing just what. They nodded, and he turned back to regard me before abruptly walking off. Before I could gather my thoughts, I was ushered out, and the one man with a blonde beard took me by the hand.
         It was hard to hear him over the wind. “You must be Tess. Jory told us a lot about you. I'm Blaine.”
         He took my bag and led me to the end of the dock. The steel and wood gates yawned open before me, revealing a main avenue that wound through the center of the village. Snowmobiles, Cat Tractors, Trucks and Campers congregated at a motor pool area by the adjacent gate. There were people about, all seemingly unnoticing of me. I was grateful for that.
         We moved past several buildings before coming to the stop at the first of many larger bunk houses. Blaine guided me in. Thick black rugs spanned the stained walnut flooring. Two chairs draped in animal skins rested on either side of a rustic, dark stone fireplace. Up the stairs was a sleeping area littered with cots, simple nightstands, lamps and wooden chairs. There was not a dresser in sight; instead a trunk rested at the foot of each cot. At the time, I thought that must be what a prison was like.
         Crouching down, Blaine grabbed my shoulder. “This will be your bed for the next few weeks. Arrangements are being made in Colorado for you after that. Put anything you want in the trunk, it's all yours,” He paused, and smiled. It was a handsome smile. “We're glad you're here, Tess.”
         It was the first time I could see his face. He had blue eyes too, but not the kind that Uncle Jory had. If Jory's were made of ice, Blaine's were made of the sky. They were kind. His smile was not crooked or menacing, but warm.
         “Dinner is in an hour. Jory has some business to attend to, but we'll have someone come by to get you. Feel free to get settled in.” He came to his feet, turned about and left.
         My uncertainty returned. I was alone. I saw the other cots nearby with pajamas folded on them. Where was everyone else? Why were we here? I took my time unpacking my bag, putting my scant few possessions into the trunk. The very last, a book my father had given me. I lay on the bed for a time, thinking about how much I missed my parents. Somehow I dozed off, only to be awoken later that evening for dinner, where eventually my uncle made an appearance.
         That night he took me to the bunkhouse and settled me into bed, in an awkward not-parent manner. “We are both staying here, but I had to take a cot in the other room. You can find me on the east side of the building, over there.” He pointed, then fumbled with his hands for a moment as though he didn't know what to do. “Tomorrow we will speak about the future. Rest up.”
          With that he left me, without so much as a pat on the head.


* * *

         The next morning Jory woke me and we went to the same place for breakfast. It was a man named Nathan's house, and his wife and kids joined us. The breakfast was simple, polite and quiet. The family seemed nice enough, but even as a child I could tell there was something that everyone wasn't talking about. We finished our meal, my uncle thanked them for having us, and we departed.
         The day was significantly warmer than the night before, and the sun was unhindered by clouds. Seeing the settlement in daylight showed me just how imposing it really was. There was a balance of man and nature; the forest continued in the village as it seemed it always had, growing thick between the houses and around the avenue as if to remind us of its permanence. Greenhouses and farms dominated the walls of the settlement, and the sounds of livestock carried far across the valley. With every mile we walked, I began to wonder if it ever ended.
         Jory watched me as I took in the sight of it. “Ithaca is simple, and self-sustained. Your mother had the same look when she first got here.” He paused thoughtfully. “She couldn’t comprehend how an operation so complex could exist out here in the middle of nowhere. She limited herself in her way of thinking. To us anything is achievable, given time.”
         I looked up at him, surprised he had addressed me directly. “I didn't know she had a brother. She never talked about you.”
         He smiled that crooked smile and looked away. “We didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things. She was a good person, but not a strong one.”
         I flushed with anger, but said nothing.
         Jory didn't seem to notice. “Her situation and yours are quite different. When she came to Ithaca, she did so reluctantly. She already had a life, our parents, a job, and she had just met your father. The world shapes a person in a certain way. In her case, she was guided here. In my case, I was driven here.”
         “Why did you come here?”
         “That is a long story. Always remember: Ithaca isn't a settlement, Tess.” He placed his hand over his heart. “It's this.”
         That thought stuck to me even to this day.
         “I brought you here because I am to be taking care of you from now on. Your mother might not have preferred it, but I am her only living kin and the responsibility is now mine. I want you to live a full life, without the invisible chains people wear.”
         “What chains?”
         Jory regarded me. “In time. There is a lot for you to learn. I have brought you here to start you on that road, but it will be up to you to decide where it leads.”
         We came around a clutch of massive pines, and my breath caught.
         I remember over the years my uncle telling me of the slack-jawed look I had when I first laid my eyes upon the Agoge. It was unlike any building in Ithaca. Cut halfway into a mountain, pillars of ivory and gold half as thick as a car rose oppressively in rows along the entrance. Stone walls met the inside of the cavernous maw, washed white in renaissance style. Maroon drapes lined with gold threading hung regally from the walls, with the words Kataplixi Einai I Archi Tis Sofias sewn into them.
         I don't know how long I stood staring at it, but when I finally looked back, my uncle was smiling at me.
         “Follow me, little wolf,” he said as he continued on.
         There was nothing I wanted more.

* * *

         Glade made a face, stopping her dialogue. “This is beginning to sound outlandish, Tess.”
         “That is the reason the drapes have that proverb sewn into them. Wonder is the beginning of wisdom; it's a desire to venture on undiscovered roads to find a truth.”
         “What truth?”
         She ignored the question. “And if wonder is the beginning of wisdom, its counter would be arrogance. When Jory first mentioned invisible chains to me, I had no inkling of what he meant by it. But wonder lead me to finding that truth, and then I realized that the invisible chains were innumerable.”
         “So you believe I am arrogant for not believing in a Greek Renaissance of Spartan training taking place in Canada? It sounds like the ramblings of an addict that has lost touch with reality.”
         Tess laughed. “You understood the reference of the Agoge? That's… surprising, to say the least. So tell me Detective, in your professional opinion, what drug do you suspect has constructed this grandiose reality of mine?”
         He ignored the quip. “You've done nothing but make reference after reference of Greek Proverbs and Greek Mythology. Why?”
         She sunk back in her chair, closing her eyes. “Wonder. There is a reason that throughout the ages Greek History and Mythology has remained prominent in the public’s mind. It's held as the birthplace of art, invention, democracy and philosophy. A starting place for the modern world.”
         “And because of that, I am to believe that this place you are telling me of actually exists?”
         Her voice was that of a scolding teacher. “You can believe whatever you’re capable of. I already told you, arrogance is an invisible chain. It holds one back from new ideas, based on the paradigms one has already set for themselves. It is an assumption of omniscience, and an overestimation of one's own knowledge.”
         Glade sighed. “So they were training an army?”
         Tess shook her head. “Agoge is metaphorical for leading, guidance and training. It is not a sparring ground, but a place where one goes to learn. Its purpose is to teach one the skills they need to survive.”
         “It's survival training?”
         “In its purest form. Tell me, Glade, how does that light bulb work?” she asked, pointing to the ceiling.
         He looked up. “Electricity triggers a reaction that causes light.”
         She shook her head. “That's a lazy answer. The truth is, you don't know.
         “Two metal contacts connect to the ends of an electrical circuit. They are attached to two stiff wires which are attached to a thin tungsten metal filament. It is held up by a glass mount. All of that rests within a glass bulb which is filled with argon. An electric current flows from one contact to the other, over and over, heating the wire until visible light is emitted from the friction, magnified by the glass bulb around it.”
         “They made you learn about light bulbs?”
         “No, we built them.” Tess pointed to the camera. “Do you know how that camera works?”
         Glade shook his head. “No, but I get the feeling you do.”
         She nodded. “Yes, I do. I know how to install that drywall, and build the frame behind it. I can set up the plumbing needed to get the water to make that coffee. I can take apart a dozen kinds of car engines, and put them back together. I know the recipe for mixing cement. I can grow crops, build bridges, roof a house, shoe a horse, stitch a wound, make a salve, and set a broken bone.”
         “If what you are saying is true, why? There are people to do all those things you said.”
         “I already told you, Glade.” Tess leaned forward, reading something from his face. “He who becomes the sheep is eaten by the wolf.”