The Requiem Collection: The Book of Jubilees, More Anger Than Sorrow & Calling Babel

by Eric Black

  He put the file away and called the Cancellarrii, who answered on the second ring. The Keeper smiled. It was the middle of night but the Cancellarrii was ready to respond as always. “I’m sorry to wake you. I would like you to come to my office first thing in the morning. There is something I’d like to discuss with you in regard to the dead professor.”

  A few hours later, the Keeper handed the Cancellarrii a cup of coffee as they settled around his desk, and pulled out the report. “You have read the entire report on the death of the Minister’s son?”

  “I have.”

  “Did anything seem strange to you?”

  The Cancellarrii thought for a moment. “The death of the boy seemed very well planned out. Of course, I would expect as much with the capabilities of a centralized government.”

  The Keeper nodded in agreement. He had overthrown the Chokka but had to agree, their government was well organized. “Anything else?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what is on your mind?”

  “Very well.” The Keeper opened to the photos of the Minister’s son’s death. “These look very real do they not?” The Cancellarrii agreed that they did. “And the transcript – these words spoken by the Minister reflect genuine grief.”

  “Are you suggesting that perhaps the child actually died?” The Keeper nodded. “Then who exactly is the professor? There is no way he concealed information from us during the interrogation.”

  “Perhaps the professor is the same as the dead child.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “Do you remember the spiritual man several years ago that you brought in for questioning?”

  “The man who was attempting to start a rebellion against us in the Outerlands?

  “The same. Do you remember that you killed him twice but yet he lived?”

  “I do remember that. Our analysis was that he must have been on the Outerland hallucinogen that they call Butter. We ended up cutting off his head to keep him dead. Why do you bring him up?”

  “Is it possible, among the many abilities that people of this world have, that there are those who can actually be dead, yet return?”

  The Cancellarrii considered the comment. If it had not been for the spiritual leader, he would have said that he had seen no indication that something of that sort was possible. But since he had witnessed the return from death firsthand, he knew that there were abilities that the people possessed that they did not yet know of or understand. “It is possible.”

  “It is also possible that this professor is such a person?”

  “Yes, it is possible. That would certainly explain how he disappeared from the Erőd.”

  “Yes it would. And if he is still alive, I would almost bet that he found his way to the Chokka. He has no one else left.”

  The Cancellarrii grinned. “The professor told me of the small village where he was raised after being sent away. If he is alive, this is where he would go.”

  The Keeper agreed. “That is where the Chokka is.”

  The Cancellarrii stood and waited for the Keeper’s final commands before exiting the office. “Find and kill them.” were the simple commands. The Cancellarrii nodded and departed. He smiled himself as he envisioned the Chokka’s blood spilling onto the ground of the village.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  The Minister of Science knocked on the door of the Császár. “Enter.” a gentle voice replied from within.

  The Minster entered and observed the Császár sitting solemnly at his desk. The Császár’s eyes told the story. The Minister understood. They had mutually agreed the best option to ensure their future was to send their sons away. The Minister had been without his son for a week. The Császár sent his son away only the day prior.

  They had used Bejárat to transport the Császár’s son to the other world and there was not a moment that followed that the Császár was not filled with regret. At the same time, he possessed a sense of relief that his son would live on.

  “What news?” the Császár asked.

  The Minster’s primary focus was on the development of science and technology to better the world; but recently, with the murder of the Minister of Information, he had also been asked to use that technology to monitor the rebellion near the Barren Lands. A man there had risen to power among the people that lived far from the city. His influence had become infectious among the people of the eastern and northern Outerlands. There were rumors that he had begun assembling an army and that army now numbered in the thousands. “Imagine one man bringing that many people together.” This new army had assumed the traditional name of the Klopph.

  “More news, none of it good. The Keeper has advanced, nearing the area once occupied by the Návratu. Our forces were not able to stop them. The Minister of Security was gravely injured.”

  The Minister could hear the stress in the Császár’s voice as he spoke. “The Minister of Security? Will he live? And what of the people of that area?”

  “The Minister is not expected to survive. And the people there join the Keeper’s army. Who can refuse him in the face of so many?”

  The Császár lowered his head under the weight of the moment. “So he marches here? How long do we have until he reaches the city? A few days at the most?”

  The Minister nodded his head in reluctant agreement. “There is little we can do. We have increased the size of our army, conscripting every capable man, but it will not be enough. These men are not trained soldiers, not yet. It is only a matter of time before the Klopph enter the city and reach the Palātium.”

  “So we will be the captives. At least our sons will be safe.”

  “Our sons will be safe.” The minister echoed. “I am sorry it has come to this.”

  The Császár smiled weakly. “I keep hoping that you have one last trick in your bag.”

  “I have been working on some items but cannot guarantee they will work. In any case, they will be our last line of defense for the Palātium.”

  “Very well. Keep me informed.”

  The Minister nodded and left the office of the Császár.

  Three days later, the Chokka government was overthrown and the Keeper was placed into power. His first order of business was to round up all of the Ministers still alive and their families. The Császár could have chosen to use the portal for his wife and him to escape alongside their son but he would not abandon his responsibilities to the people. Dutifully, they were taken by the Klopph with their rest of the officials.

  The interrogations began with the wives of the Minsters being tortured in front of the assembly. This went on for hours before the first question was asked. Next, the children of the Ministers who had not been sent off were brought in and the questions began. Daughters were under the same threat of assault that their mothers had just encountered and the tongues of the Ministers were loosened without hesitation.

  Once the required information had been extracted, the Ministers and their families were killed one by one, starting with the screaming infants. Sons and daughters were murdered, followed by the wives, and finally each of the Ministers. The Császár and his wife, witnesses to each loss, were kept alive.

  Over the next week, the Császár’s wife was tortured in front of him as the Keeper led the interrogation. When he was satisfied that he had learned all that he needed, he plunged his knife into her ruined body. She had been tortured so severely that part of the Császár was thankful for her death to end her suffering.

  The Császár was kept alive for an additional month so he could endure the memories of the death of his wife and friends. During that month, he was given reports of how the world had fallen to the Keeper.

  At the conclusion of that month, the Császár was taken to the courtyard of the Palātium and executed in front of the citizens of Orleans. Word spread quickly that the last Chokka was dead. To help spread the word, the body of the Császár was put on tour throughout the world so that everyone would know that the Keeper was indeed in command.r />
  So began the rule of the Keeper.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Babel listened intently as Quentin told him of the coup. Of how his grandfather and grandmother were killed. He had never known his grandparents but the tale of their death filled him with great sorrow. He felt like crying; but instead, he swallowed that sorrow, allowing it to turn into anger. He would avenge his family.

  “There is more.” Quentin said. He nodded at Jims, who came forward and produced a small book. “This book was written by your grandfather during his one month imprisonment. The words will be very hard for you to read as your grandfather speaks of his feelings during that time. He often considered suicide.”

  “How did you get such a book?” Babel asked.

  “There were many men who died getting this book to me. I cannot say for certain how the book was discovered or how exactly it was taken from the Palātium. I can say that your grandfather knew exactly where to hide the book so that only someone who was familiar with the Palātium could have found it. It was given to me anonymously.”

  “Then how do you know it was actually written by my grandfather?”

  “I knew your grandfather when I was a boy. There was a certain way about him that comes through in the book. Plus, I do not believe, from the knowledge shared within the book that this book could have been written by anyone else other than a Chokka imprisoned by the Keeper. When you read the book, you will understand what I mean.”

  Babel thanked Quentin and Jims and that evening he did read the book. And he did understand what Quentin meant. There was little doubt the book in his hands had been written by his grandfather during the worst time of his life.

  Babel also knew the book was key to understanding the Keeper. He knew very little of the Keeper outside of what he had been told. The book was very insightful. If they were to defeat the Keeper and retake the world, the book would play a part in that.

  The next morning Babel woke and felt anew. His situation was just as dire as the night before but there was something about possessing a part of his grandfather that stirred him. For the first time since being in this world, he felt that at least a part of him belonged. He did not doubt that later those feelings would grow. He would come to see this world as his own. He had agreed to become the Császár, but knew that he would never fully fill that role until he became part of this world.

  He rose from his bed and walked out into the morning sun. He stretched for a moment, enjoying the sun on his face.

  “Good morning”

  Babel opened his eyes and looked at who had spoken to him. It was Jims. “Good morning.”

  “You look very fresh this morning.”

  “I feel fresh. I slept well.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Jims motioned to his right. “This is my wife, Krista.”

  Babel started to stick out his hand to take Krista’s but stopped himself and nodded instead. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “And you, Babel. I’ve heard much about you.”

  Jims laughed, “Nothing that wasn’t true, mate.”

  Babel smiled. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “Well, we’re off.” Krista said. “You’re welcome to join us. We’re heading to the stream baths to wash off.”

  “Thanks, maybe next time.” Babel wasn’t sure what exactly a stream bath was. He did, however, expect both Jims and Krista to drop their clothing where they stood before heading down to wash up.

  Jims read Babel’s face and laughed. He leaned in to Babel. “Don’t worry, mate. Quentin told us of your fear of nakedness. We’ll keep clothed until we’re out of your sight. We wouldn’t want to offend the Császár now would we?”

  Babel wasn’t sure what to say. His face blushed even though he tried to play it off. Finally he managed to say, “Enjoy your stream bath.”

  Jims laughed heartily and his wife and he headed down the path. Babel watched them go, then walked out into the commons area. Quentin was sitting outside of his shack, waiting on him. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

  “I did, and you?”

  Quentin’s face turned somewhat serious. “Not so much. I keep having dreams.” After a moment of reflection, Quentin shook off the images running through his head and looked at Babel. Then he smiled as well as he could. “Have you had breakfast?”

  “I have not.”

  “Well, I guess you can share with me. But you’ll have to earn it.” Quentin showed Babel a bowl of fruit.

  “Wait, why don’t we split what we have?” Babel walked back to his shack and grabbed his backpack. He pulled out a small brown sack and carried it back to Quentin. Inside the sack was a loaf of bread that he had purchased as he left the city the day before. “Here, have some of this.” he said, pulling the loaf in half and passing to Quentin.

  Quentin smiled. “If you think this is going to get you out of work today, you’re wrong.”

  Babel laughed. “Have you forgotten to whom you are talking? I am the Császár. You do what I say, not the other way around.”

  “Keep that up and see where it gets you.” Quentin retorted with jest.

  The two of them sat and ate, enjoying the morning quiet. Quentin looked over at Babel. “We will have to leave today.”

  Babel was confused. “What do you mean leave? I just got here. You have not been here long. Surely you want to visit with your people. I would enjoy getting to know them.”

  “It’s not a decision we made lightly. The entire village will come with us. The Klopph know about this village and they know that I grew up here. They will have noticed that my body disappeared from the morgue. The Keeper is a very intelligent man and, given his resources, will soon determine the truth behind my death as a boy. They will come here looking for me.”

  “Do you think they know that I would come here?”

  “They will suspect that you and I know where each other are. They will begin their search in this village.”

  “When do you think they will be here?”

  “They will be here sometime today or tomorrow. We will not be here to find out. We leave in an hour.”

  Babel reflected on the morning. “Jims and Krista were so calm.”

  “What do you expect? Life in the Outerlands is a daily battle. Everything that the people have, they worked for. The Klopph surround these lands but leave people alone unless they have orders not to.”

  Babel nodded. “Are they ordered to often?”

  “Not often. But periodically, the Keeper feels the need to remind people that he has control.”

  “And so he reminds us today?”

  Quentin nodded in agreement. “So is life in the Outerlands.”

  Babel thoughts turned back to Jims and how calm he was. That sparked his recollection of what Jims had said to him that morning. “Why did you tell Jims that I am afraid of being naked? I’m guessing Triana said something to you.”

  Quentin’s somberness turned lighter and he smiled. “Harmless enough. It makes you uncomfortable, does it not?”

  “Not uncomfortable. People where I come from don’t just strip their clothing wherever they feel like. In fact, that can get you trouble.”

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing we are not where you come from. Here people feel the body is something that we all have. If it is seen by others, who cares? We all have skin.”

  “Alright, let’s just forget it. But please don’t tell anyone else that. I’m a big boy and can handle being around other naked people.”

  Quentin laughed. “Fair enough. Now, you’d better get your belongings.”

  An hour later, they began the trek deeper into the Outerlands. The plan was that the group would split, dividing north and south to confuse the trail. Those groups would split further, some doubling back and others following rock trails before the entire group converged in a designated location several miles away.

  As they started off, Quentin turned around one last time and looked at his childhood home. He did not know it then but that would be the last ti
me he would see the village.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  “From the look of the village, they were here only this morning.” the Kaptajn observed.

  The Cancellarrii nodded. “It certainly seems so. Did you find the trail?”

  “We found several. Each moving off in different directions. I imagine they all intersect again at some future point but it will take some time to explore each and determine where.”

  The Cancellarrii sighed. He knew the people in the Outerlands well; he had been raised in the Outerlands. They were a crafty people – they had to be. “And the energy source?”

  “There is none that we can pinpoint. The energy of the Chokka seems to be everywhere at once.”

  “Have your men divide and search each trail. I would expect several of those trails to double back. We must take our time and not be misled.”

  The Cancellarrii dismissed the Kaptajn and considered the village around him. It was not dissimilar to his own childhood village. The Keeper had grown up in a similar village as well, just to the east. The Cancellarrii reflected on their first encounter.

  The two met hunting for their respected village. It was nearing winter and the game had begun to move, forcing them to hunt further from their home. This was the two young men’s first winter hunt and a chance meeting of the two villages in the wild sparked a friendship between the two young men.

  Over the period of the next few months, the two met several times to hunt together. It was during these hunts that the two young men began to talk seriously about their futures. Both would soon each would be expected to marry and start a family. Neither were content with that prospect and determined that there had to be more to life than what currently existed for them.

  When the summer came, both men decided to leave their village to explore the world around them. As they traveled, the spoke with others, convinced other young men to join them. Soon a group of several hundred men roamed the Outerlands before finding the cave the housed the Stone of Návratu. It was there that one of the young men took on the name of the Keeper of the Stone, deciding that it was his destiny to discover the ancient land of the Návratu. They settled the cave and the man now known as the Keeper began sharing his true agenda.