wonder what all that means.”
“The Egyptian Osiris and the Inca Viracocha are
a lot alike,” Gold said.
“And Azhi Dahaka.”
“What about the Incan Pachacamac, the Mayan
Tezcatlipoca, and the Egyptian Seth?”
“The Egyptian Ankh signifies life-force,” Copper
said, “and the Egyptian hieroglyphic symbol Hr (5)
means to fight or bind.”
“Human histories or legends alternate between
benevolence and oppression, granted. But what I find
odd,” Silicone said, “are the recurring patterns, symbols,
and myths among different cultures so widely separated
in time and place. Separated by vast distances, ancient
humans had little chance to communicate with each
other. So how do we explain the remarkable similarity in
their imagery and symbolism?”
The rising sun reminded them that their journey
must continue before they found any answers.
The friends looked around to see where the
Transportal delivered them, and saw a hilltop stone
fortress overlooking a beautiful port city. Stone houses
and small gardens lined the curved alleys descending the
hill below the fortress. At the bottom of the hill, an
impressive stone pier jutted into the sea, defining a
curved harbor. Around the city, farms of dates, palms,
olives, and other fruit lay in neat, checkered squares,
watered by irrigation channels fed by clay pipes emerging from invisible wells or aqueducts bringing water from the eastern mountain ranges. Beyond the
farms, the terrain turned arid, scarred by dry streambeds. In the distance they spotted a curious sight—
rows and rows of tents, men, and horses. The men sat
idly under the blazing sun or in the shade of their tents.
Nitrogen and Helium rose into the air for a better view
and informed their companions.
“They look like a ragtag army,” Nitrogen said.
“Tired and dazed, they’re sitting aimlessly, clasping
their weapons—swords, bows, spears, and shields. I see
flags and banners with different patterns and markings,
but a white banner with a red cross in the center recurs.”
“Another + symbol,” Helium added.
“What else?” Silicone asked.
“I see another camp of soldiers in the distance,”
Nitrogen reported. “They are just as miserable, but their camp looks different. The tents are cones of colorful patterned cloth. The men wear baggy clothes and onionshaped, pointed helmets. A ravine divides the two camps, and they’re keeping a nervous eye on each other across it.”
“There must be a war,” Silicone concluded.They had heard of wars but could not understand why humans slaughtered one another. They knew there were often economic motives behind wars, the drive to get each other’s wealth or productive energy.
Oxygen noted many ships in the port and others anchored off the coast, the portside ships intricately detailed and beautifully painted with colorfully clothed men on board. Young boys hustled goods to the sailors from the docks. The offshore ships were plain brown wooden vessels flying various flags, always including a