‘I have always held true to the belief that everyone should have the opportunity to have their opinions expressed freely without being fearful of reprimand. For that reason I have been content to listen while Quintus put his case to us. I have to say that I am surprised how forcibly he has advocated against Ezra in open session. That, I suggest, took a great deal of courage and, in recognition of his valour, I bow to him.’
Quintus, now seated, smiled as Marcus deferentially bowed his head.
‘Nevertheless,’ continued Marcus, regaining his full height, ‘I have a major concern that due process has been set aside in the wake of unrevealed actions allegedly involving the Great Leader.’
He paused to allow his words to be absorbed and understood.
‘Allow me to tell you why I disagree with Quintus’s approach to this extremely dangerous subject,’ he said. ‘Ezra is our elected Great Leader, serving a third term after seeking and receiving the overwhelming support of the populace of Terra Nova in a free, democratic, vote. That is the way in which the constitution of our beloved planet works and has worked very successfully over the millennia. The people of Terra Nova have the final say. However, for Quintus to stand before this meeting of the Council of Ministers and tell us that he, and he alone, has passed a law to which none of us was privy, is not only undemocratic but also totally alien to the way in which our constitution operates. Yes, I agree that we have constantly acquiesced and passed without sufficient consideration what some may regard as unsound laws, but that does not mean that we, in retrospect, can use our lack of fortitude as a reason to argue for the dethroning of someone the people have seen fit to endorse for a third four year term. If, and I say if very guardedly, Quintus’s proposals are to be seriously considered then a secret ballot is the way in which we, the nineteen members of this council, should make our feelings known. To do otherwise would be to arrive at a decision which would be flawed because of fears of terminal retribution. I therefore propose we begin a process whereby our opinions are able to be expressed freely and endorsed by a simple yes or no. The question you will all have to answer is as follows. Has Ezra overstepped constitutional boundaries and, if so, are we prepared to do what is necessary to address the problem? I leave the floor with that question before you. All that is required now is a show of hands signifying your assent to my proposal. If we have a majority in favour, we can then proceed to hold a secret ballot.’
Chapter Thirty Eight
Richard Moss and Noah Tullius Cicero are now somewhat reconciled over Noah’s as yet unproven revelation concerning Richard’s Terra Novan origins. Although Richard still remains head- shakingly incredulous, Noah was content to drop the subject for the time being since their main priority was to avoid capture, which would lead to Immaculation and also, in Richard’s case, Proscription. The question of how Richard was to be returned to Earth was another contentious subject which was currently buried under the massive weight of acute embarrassment. The tide appears to be turning against Ezra but it will require a huge increase in dissent among both the rulers and the ruled of Terra Nova if a planet-wide revolution is to take place. Although the flickering glimmers of a revolution to overthrow Ezra were becoming gradually more apparent, the size required to light the flames of a planet wide uprising was not about to become evident until a leader emerged who had sufficient charisma to persuade the people of Terra Nova to follow him, or her, on a crusade against the tyranny of Ezra and his government. The most likely candidate for the role was Amos Caelius Aquila, twin brother of Ezra, co-founder of Licentia ex Persecution and consequently, the person who knows him best.
Richard and Noah are now holed up in the safe house. Richard is feeling especially vulnerable, although both are reeling under the pressure that accompanies an inability to control events which are directly affecting them. Noah’s emotions, now finely honed despite a life time of non-use, have risen to the surface and are affecting his physical appearance. Until recent events intervened, this once proud, confident young man appears to have aged beyond his years. His hair, previously always well groomed, was now hanging in long, lank, unwashed swathes around his wrinkled, creased face. His eyes, once sparkling with life and vivacity, were becoming blackened by the constant strains being imposed upon him and, by association, his companion. His clothing, once an admired distinguishing feature, was a sad assortment of mis-matched, scruffy garments. His feet, blistered from walking the streets in ill-fitting sandals, were covered with strips of ragged cloth, utilised to little effect, although supposedly there to ease the intense pain each step generated. Richard was suffering a similar reversal. His dark hair was now a shoulder length mass of curls. His clothing mirrored that of his friend but, physically, he looked in somewhat better shape. Whatever, the two men projected an image of forlorn despair as they sprawled, uncomfortably, on two couches situated in the sleeping area of the safe house.
‘This is what it’s come down to,’ said Richard tonelessly, ‘Two men, once very proud of their appearance, looking like down and outs from a Charles Dickens novel. Where do we go from here Noah? Or does the question sound as stupid to you as it does to me?’
Noah looked at Richard, rose to his feet, crossed to the other couch and sat beside his friend.
‘I know this is hard to take,’ he said, placing an arm on Richard’s shoulder. ‘Everything was so full of promise and now we appear to be on a road to nowhere. But we must not succumb to bouts of depression because things are happening, albeit slowly, and if I am honest, the way we look is probably our best hope of avoiding capture. But hear me well Richard. We have strong, powerful, valuable friends supporting us and unless we believe and support them, we will suffer the ignominious fate of those unfortunates we see as we traverse the streets of Trastevere. I urge you Richard, to listen to the words of Amos Caelius Aquila for he, among all others, is the key to our future. As we speak he is organising resistance to Ezra which, when successful, will lead us back to the ways we used to live here on Terra Nova. You and I have had our differences, our highs and our lows. Despite the way I look right now, I can assure you my dear, dear, friend that things will change. We will return you to Earth, you will see your family again, and you will be in a position to change Earth’s course, because that is ordained and nothing, but nothing, will stop it.’
Richard managed a rather wan smile.
‘You are the master of encouraging words Noah,’ he said, nodding his head slightly. ‘And what’s more I believe you believe what you are saying. You have given me something to think about, to cling onto and, although they are only words right now, I am ready to do whatever is necessary to help you return me to my family and friends on Earth.’
***
The secret vote was complete. Marcus Annius Verus and Quintus Claudius Avitus had been resolute in ensuring the result was fair, free of any outside pressures and, as was agreed, strictly secret. All that each Council Minister had to do was to take a prepared slip of paper and place an “X” in the pro or con box after the question “Should our Great Leader Ezra be forced from office?” Marcus then went from minister to minister collecting the completed votes. He placed them in a small brown leather bag which he normally used for keeping notes taken at Council meetings. He rejoined Quintus at the head of the table and placed the leather bag beside a large embossed brass plate. He opened the bag and tipped the contents onto the plate.
‘Quintus,’ he said. ‘Please count them and confirm all nineteen of us have voted.’
Quintus slowly picked up each entry and fingered each one carefully. He finished, nodded and then looked at Marcus.
‘All nineteen votes are there,’ he said.
Marcus acknowledged with a nod.
‘Now we will count the pros and cons,’ he said. ‘Quintus will you please re-check each one as I place them into two separate lots.’
The two ministers were painstaking in ensuring each vote was corre
ctly placed. It quickly became obvious that one pile was becoming much larger than the other. Marcus motioned towards Publius Gratius Balbus.
‘Will you join us please?’
Publius made his way to the head of the table and stood between Marcus and Quintus, a nervous twitch flickering around his mouth.
‘Publius, please count the ones in the smallest lot.’
He did as requested.
‘Six,’ he answered.
‘Now please count those in the other lot.’
Marcus stepped aside to allow Publius space to make the count.
‘Thirteen,’ said Publius.
Marcus offered his thanks and asked Publius to return to his seat.
‘We have the nineteen votes sorted according to the pros and cons,’ said Marcus. ‘Now I will ask Quintus to reveal which vote prevailed.’
He looked at his fellow minister without a sign of emotion on his face.
Quintus opened the six votes, then, very slowly, the other thirteen. He looked increasingly concerned as he slowly opened each vote, although the outcome was already apparent to him after counting the six from the first pile. He opened the final vote, lifted his head high, and addressed the council.
‘There are thirteen cons and six pros.’
He paused. A gasp from those seated around the table was followed by tentative, nervous, clapping which increased in volume. Then all the ministers rose from their seats in a flurry of scraping noise to face Marcus and Quintus.
‘The Council of Ministers has reached a decision,’ said Marcus. He turned and motioned with an outstretched hand towards two guards standing motionless by the doors at the entrance to the room. As they approached he turned and pointed menacingly at Quintus Claudius Avitus.
‘Arrest him,’ he ordered. ‘The traitor Ezra feared was among us has been revealed.’
Chapter Thirty Nine
The news of the arrest of Quintus, Ezra’s Minister for Justice, reached Amos Caelius Aquila and three other members of LEP within two hours of its happening. The two guards who were ordered to make the arrest were seen by the crowd gathered outside the Office of Administrative Affairs. Quintus’ arms were shackled behind his back, he was barefooted - a measure designed to humiliate and degrade. Nevertheless his head was held high and, despite the yelling and cat-calling from some sections of the crowd, he maintained a look of self-confidence that raised him above those persons intent upon his humiliation. Towards the back of the crowd, wearing the same long grey coat with the capacious hood, stood Esther Pius Oppius. She recognised Quintus immediately and felt herself shaking from top to toe at the sight of a much respected member of Ezra’s government being led away in shackles. She raised her right hand subconsciously to cover her mouth which had opened wide with shock.
What can have caused this? She asked herself, still staring in disbelief at the departing rear of Quintus. Seeing the shackled arms, the torn, bleeding feet and the hostile crowd swirling around, pushing and shoving, for a position where they could shout profanities at a highly respected patrician. She gathered her racing thoughts and knew she had to report the arrest of Quintus to her compatriots at LEP. Leaving the baying crowd behind she hurried through the narrow streets towards the safe house across the river Tiber in Trastevere. Praying silently that she would find Noah Tullius Cicero and his brother Joshua there. She had to tell someone in authority about the arrest of Quintus and, in spite of being shocked out of her mind, it was obvious to her that the best means of relaying the news was to hurry to the safe house and trust she would find someone to whom she could unload what had become a weighty burden.
Making sure her face was partially covered by the coat’s hood she knocked on the door of the safe house. No answer. She knocked again, banging more loudly this time. No answer. Although the sound of stealthy movement inside could be heard through the gaps surrounding the door. She shook her head in frustration and knocked again, with even more force.
The door opened to a minute slit. Standing behind the slit she could make out the shape of someone being ultra cautious. She moved closer and whispered.
‘Noah, is that you?’
‘Who is it asking.’
‘It’s me, Esther.’
Mumbling from inside. The door was opened a fraction more. More internal mumbling.
‘Let her in,’ said a voice she recognised as Joshua’s.
The slit widened to allow enough of a gap for her to pass into the building’s dark interior. Noah and Joshua, both looking surprised, were barely visible in the murkiness of the entrance hall.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked Joshua. ‘How do you know of this place?’
Esther drew the hood back off her head. She looked exhausted.
‘How do I know? Is that important?’ she asked petulantly. ‘I just saw Quintus, in chains, being led away, on the steps outside the Office of Administrative Affairs. He was under arrest, surrounded by a crowd, yelling, screaming hateful oaths at him. I had to let you know, what had happened to him. I knew you would be as shocked as I was. I ran, came to find you as soon as I could...’
Tears were trickling down her cheeks. She broke into a series of sobs and dropped onto her trembling knees.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Noah, bowing low and laying his hands on her shoulders. ‘Are you sure it was Quintus?’
Esther tried to control the sobs which were making it almost impossible to speak. She looked up; her eyes were now filled with tears. She stared at the two men.
‘As certain as I am that, that, you, you, you are Noah and that you, you are Joshua,’ she answered, stumbling over her words. ‘It was Quintus, believe me, I know him well. I’ve seen him many times; it was definitely him, without any doubt, it was Quintus.’
Noah lifted her gently to her feet, placed an arm around her waist, and led her down the dark corridor towards an open door at the end.
‘Come on, sit down, I’ll get you something to drink,’ said Noah, upon entering. ‘Try to relax, you’ll feel better if you can, and don’t worry, we’ll make sure the news reaches Amos. Please, sit down here while I get you a drink.’
He motioned towards a wooden chair covered in a tattered blanket. Esther looked at the blanket and rejected the offer. She remained on her feet, still shaking, still tearful. Richard Moss entered the room, attracted by the fracas. He looked at Esther, then at Noah, then at Joshua.
‘Now what,’ he asked, shaking his head. ‘Not another calamity?’
Joshua shook his head.
‘Calamity? No, nothing that could be described as a calamity. Esther has informed us that Quintus, Ezra’s minister for justice, has been arrested. She saw him being led away in chains - to where we can only guess. It is a terrible blow for all of us at LEP but it is not a fait accompli. We have had setbacks before and will, no doubt, have more in the future. But, as of now, we have to inform Amos.’
He paused for a moment.
‘Richard,’ he asked quietly. ‘Can I prevail upon you to remain here, to stay with Esther, while Noah and I let Amos know of the arrest?’
The pleading look on his face made it impossible for anything but a positive answer to be forthcoming. Richard didn’t disappoint.
‘Of course, you have no need to plead. I’ll gladly stay with her.’
***
The journey through the crowded streets to the house where Amos Caelius Aquila was in hiding, included a succession of frightening physical and noisy verbal attacks. Over the millennia the streets of Leviticus have been havens of tranquillity, where one could stroll without fear of being confronted, threatened or challenged in any way. Not so for Noah and Joshua as they were jostled, pushed and insulted on almost every step of the route towards their destination. Noah was especially concerned because of the fact that he and his brother were featured high on Ezra’s inf
amous Proscription list. Armed militia were now becoming increasingly evident in the streets of the city and, on three occasions during their journey, the brothers were stopped and closely questioned, due, presumably, as a consequence of the treatment they were receiving from passers by. Fortunately the militia were persuaded by the contrived confidence in the duos responses to their questions that they were allowed to continue on their way. What was becoming increasingly noticeable as they walked the streets was the widening social difference between those of patrician rank and those who were plebeians, once a recognised and respected distinction. But now, as a direct consequence of Ezra’s omnipotent governance, the long-held, mutual respect that bound the societal order together was rapidly disintegrating into chaos and disorder.
Joshua, although growing increasingly weary at being harassed, turned to his brother who was becoming more and more nervous and agitated after each affray.
‘Ignore them,’ he said casually, trying to calm his brother’s fears. ‘We’re almost there.’
They decided to avoid taking the direct, more crowded, route to their destination and, instead, sought a degree of safety in the backstreets where there was less chance of being accosted again. They eventually arrived at the crumbling non-descript building where Amos was housed. They were admitted after an enquiring face appeared at a window in response to their insistent wrapping on the door at the entrance to the house. It was opened by a giant of a man who ushered them inside. The atmosphere was icily frigid. Amos appeared from a room at the end of the corridor and approached them, a concerned look of his face.
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