by D. J. McCune
And then … There would be Light. There would be the Hinterland, one last time. He would have to give his keystone to someone. There would be no goodbyes. They wouldn’t let his father guide him under those kind of circumstances. He wondered what would be on the other side. Directions only got you so far. Would he be alone? Or would Lucian and all those other Mortsons who had gone before him be there, waiting? Waiting to show him a whole new path.
His mother’s sobbing brought him back to the present. He raised his head, afraid to look at her. He had never wanted to hurt her or let her down. Nathanial’s face was ashen. ‘You can’t do this. You don’t understand the consequences. Don’t you think Lucian tried? Don’t you think he wanted to find another way? But even if you could walk away … You wouldn’t just lose the Luman world. You would lose us. Your family.’
‘It doesn’t have to be like that.’
‘There are laws, Adam!’
‘And laws change!’ Adam looked at Heinrich. ‘You said it yourself. Maybe we’re too slow to change. We’re so far behind the rest of the world we’re dinosaurs. But you changed things. You Marked Susanna. And if women can be Lumen too, maybe you don’t need every single man to be one. Maybe I can go and do something else useful. Help people in a different way.’
Heinrich was studying him again. ‘You’re like him,’ he said abruptly. He turned to Nathanial and smiled sadly. ‘There is something of Lucian in him.’
‘Yes.’ Nathanial nodded. His voice was flat, the emotion deliberately squashed out of it. ‘Jo says the same. She always has.’
‘There will be a scandal. You are a High Luman and this will be seen as a failure on your part, if Adam does not follow in your footsteps. There will be questions. There are no rules for this situation.’
‘Then we will make rules.’ They all turned. Elise, the most puritanical conventionalist in the history of Luman-kind, was going rogue. She wiped her eyes and shrugged. ‘So there will be a scandal. There was a scandal before et voilà … here we are! We survived.’ She stopped and for a moment a terrible anger passed across her face. ‘I have lived in the shadow of Darian’s obsession for too many years. No more. Let the past be the past.’
She paused and walked over to Heinrich, kissing his cheeks in turn. ‘Je suis désolée. I am sorry I did not support you. You have been a friend to us for so long. The world is changing and there are no rules. So, we will make new rules. After all, what purpose is there in being a High Luman or a Chief Curator if you cannot rewrite the law?’
Heinrich was smiling at her sadly. ‘The Concilium will not accept this.’ He fell silent, studying Adam, but his thoughts were somewhere else. It was a long time before he spoke. ‘It must look as though Adam will obey. There must be no talk of school or travelling the world. You realise this, Adam, yes? You must promise the Concilium that you accept our laws, that you intend to be a Luman. Your true thoughts must remain a secret.’
Adam stared at Heinrich stupidly. He wasn’t sure he was following. ‘But … You’ll let me stay at school?’
‘Being a Seer is a burden, Adam. In time you may learn to carry this gift with more grace. But if your school helps you with this transition … helps you to survive, to live … then yes, you may stay at school.’ Heinrich shook his head. ‘It must be a remarkable place to inspire such devotion.’
Adam thought about it for a moment. ‘It is.’ It was true. Not every day. Some days it was rubbish and boring and it had people like Michael Bulber. But it also had his friends and Melissa and the chance to learn things and the chance to be the kind of person he had always wanted to be. And he wouldn’t be there forever. Because he had a life waiting for him. A whole life. And school was going to help him make that life happen.
Another thought occurred to him. He knew he was pushing his luck but he had a feeling that this was his one chance to negotiate and then the doors were going to slam closed hard. What was that saying? Shoot for the moon and you’ll reach the stars. ‘There’s something else.’ He looked at their raised eyebrows and pushed on. ‘I want to be able to meet up with people. Outside school. Normal people. I want to be able to see my friends. Not every night. Just some nights.’ He wasn’t mentioning any names. There was only so much ‘change’ they could handle in one go.
Nathanial frowned. ‘You will still have to help us, Adam. On call-outs. I won’t let you walk away from our world entirely. Not until you’re older. Until you’re sure.’ He hesitated. ‘But as long as you do your share … I don’t see why you shouldn’t have a few nights out. Being a Luman has certainly never held Luc back.’ He gave a wry smile.
Heinrich held out his hand. ‘Adam. We are agreed?’
Hardly daring to believe it, Adam took the older man’s hand and shook it. ‘Yes.’
He didn’t know how it was going to work. None of them did.
But at least they were going to try.
The next twelve hours passed in a blur for Adam. There was a long stretch of quiet disbelief in his cell, wondering if this was all just a cruel joke, while his parents and Heinrich were above ground, negotiating terms and soothing ruffled feathers. In time Rashid returned and escorted him along a corridor beneath the house, into the Oath room. The Concilium were waiting for him, all thirteen of them. Their chairs were angled towards him while Adam had to kneel on a cushion before them. His parents were sitting over at one side. It was hard not to keep looking for them. Hikaru was sitting on the other side of the room. It was much easier to avoid his eyes – Adam wasn’t sure how he would ever face the Japanese Luman again.
The charges against him were read out. He had to defend himself. It was horrible. Heinrich had briefed him on what to say but he was so tired and dazed that it was hard to choose the right words. In the end, this probably helped him. Afterwards, he realised how young and shattered he must have looked; how completely inept. He certainly didn’t look like a master conspirator.
That role was reserved for Darian. The Frenchman did his very best to prove that Adam was a Seer; that he had interfered with the Fates; that he was a liar. It got easier to lie then. Adam just channelled every ounce of his hatred into pleading his innocence. No, he wasn’t a Seer – he might have been when he was a baby but he had lost the art, which was a shame as he would have been a better Luman. No, he would never dare to intervene in the fates of men. He knew better than that. It was against Luman law. His friend Spike liked hacking into things and although Adam himself didn’t understand how he had done it, for once it had helped save people. He wouldn’t know; he hadn’t had anything to do with it all.
Darian was getting more and more angry. He was trying and failing to keep his composure but his mask was slipping. His vendetta was becoming clearer and clearer. As he realised he was losing, he kept looking over at Elise, helpless and furious. It was Heinrich who finally intervened, perhaps trying to save Darian from shaming himself even more.
Adam wasn’t sure how he felt about Heinrich. He knew the older man cared about the Mortsons but he also knew that Heinrich was supposed to be impartial. Why was the Chief Curator so determined to save him? Any punishment he would have faced was no more than he deserved. And yet, as he remembered Heinrich’s face when his daughter was rejected at the Marking ball, Adam realised that no one was truly impartial, no matter how much they liked to think they were. If ever a good deed had been repaid ten times over, it was today.
And then the trial was over. Only now the real test began. As the Crone entered the room, Adam felt a shudder run through him. Luc had tormented him that he would never get Marked and right now that was an attractive idea. He had always imagined it happening at some distant time in the future, preferably when he was a medical student and had researched local anaesthetics … Elise pressed a white cloth to his brow and gave him slivers of fruit from a silver dish. Nathanial stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, while the Crone mixed Mortson Keystone into her ink and pulled his shirt to one side. Adam looked down at his breastbone, the skin pale and unbr
oken. It would never look like this again.
The Crone began. It was agony, not least because it was a Mark Adam had never wanted to bear. But with every movement of the Crone’s hand and the fresh wave of pain it brought, Adam thought about what he was gaining. School. His friends. Melissa. His life. His freedom. He repeated the list on a loop, breathing in and out, squeezing his eyes closed to keep tears from spilling onto his cheeks and shaming him.
And then, hours or days or weeks later, it was done. He felt weak and sick and shaky. His mother left the room so he could make his Oath. It was hard to listen to the words but he managed to repeat them after Heinrich, barely audible. A cloak was brought in and placed around his shoulders; black with the white fur trim of an adult Luman. He had come of age.
It was a strange moment. Usually there was a celebration to follow but not this time. His mother returned to the chamber and slipped her hand through his arm. Her face was sad. This wasn’t the Marking ceremony she would have wanted for one of her sons. If anything, the atmosphere was sombre. It was obvious that not everyone in the Concilium agreed with their Chief Curator’s decision. Some of them avoided Heinrich’s eye and looked at Adam with nothing but contempt. But now that they were leaving it was time for the worst moment of all – facing Hikaru.
Adam stayed close to his parents and Heinrich as the High Luman approached. The rest of the Curators had already left, Darian barely waiting for the door to close behind him before he began ranting at the madness of the situation. If he hadn’t been so evil himself, Adam would have felt more sympathy for him. His scheme had backfired. Win for Mortson. But Hikaru was a different matter. He had been shamed by what had happened and it was a shame that would probably never fade, however innocent he was.
Hikaru was as inscrutable as ever. He bowed to Heinrich and nodded at Nathanial and Elise. Nathanial bowed and Adam followed. He held the pose for a long time; as close as he could come to an apology – but it didn’t feel enough. ‘I’m sorry,’ he blurted out.
‘Why are you sorry, Adam? You have done nothing wrong in the eyes of the law. Our Concilium has absolved you.’ There was no trace of sarcasm in Hikaru’s tone but somehow he managed to convey very clearly that he knew Adam was guilty. ‘And now we must decide how to proceed.’
Heinrich stepped in. ‘We have decided that it would only raise questions if Adam fails to return to Hachimana. He tells us that he was in the same building with his friends and many other witnesses. Because of this it would be difficult to explain his disappearance in the tsunami.’
‘I have made enquiries. His group are still in Hachimana. They will be taken by coach back to Tokyo tomorrow. It would be best if Adam returned to the city immediately. While they are still in the city Adam can say that he simply became separated from them and was found by one of the city residents.’
It was agreed. Adam had a moment with his parents and Heinrich before he left. His mother kissed both his cheeks and held his face in her hands for a long moment. ‘Take care, my darling.’ He nodded and turned to his father. Nathanial hesitated, then put his arms round him and hugged him. Adam stood rigid, pleased and embarrassed. His father was usually more of a hand-shaker.
Heinrich held out his hand and Adam shook it. ‘Thank you, sir.’ The words sounded odd but felt right.
Heinrich’s expression was stern. ‘You are an adult now. You understand what this means?’
Adam nodded. He did know. From here on in, he was responsible for his actions in the eyes of Luman Law. There would never be another second chance like this. He understood that. But they had made promises too. ‘So I’ll be able to stay …?’
Nathanial cleared his throat. ‘We made you a promise, Adam. Keep your oath and we will keep ours.’
It was time. They climbed stone stairs and re-entered the house. Adam had hoped to say goodbye to Rita but there was no sign of anyone else. In the garden, Adam reached for his keystone – then realised he didn’t need it any more. It was part of him, just as the Luman world was part of him, whether he liked it or not. They stepped into the Hinterland and with one final bow, Hikaru took his arm.
It was time to go back.
Chapter 27
t was surprisingly easy to rejoin his group. Adam had worried about cover stories and yet more lies, but in the event it wasn’t really necessary. Maybe it was because of the chaos after the tsunami. Adam had experienced natural disasters and their aftermath from the safety of the Hinterland but experiencing them in the physical world was a whole different story.
Much of Hachimana’s seafront strip was completely destroyed, along with low-lying villages and towns for two hundred miles along the eastern coast of Japan. The devastation was difficult to comprehend. It was only afterwards, watching the footage on the news, that Adam really began to grasp the scale of what had happened – and what could have happened without the early warning. The sea had smashed the main street to pieces, pushing the debris inland towards the research centre, then retreated, scouring what was left off the face of the earth.
Adam and Hikaru stood in the Hinterland, surveying the destruction. From here, just outside the research centre, they could watch the comings and goings as the local people began to try and clear access routes and get supplies to the people who needed them. The weather had taken a milder turn but the work looked arduous. Family groups huddled together, sharing whatever food and shelter they had cobbled together. And there, at the side of the research centre, were his group. The teachers looked exhausted but they were herding people together and passing out some kind of emergency rations from inside the building. They mostly seemed to be crackers and slices of pickle.
They wandered through the reception foyer, still unseen. Inside, people were trying to sweep up glass and splintered wood. They were calm, waiting their turn politely for cleaning supplies and blankets. Adam was struck by their quiet patience and dignity. Would people in London have behaved like this? He wasn’t sure. He hoped so.
At last they spotted Kenai. This would be Adam’s last chance to talk to Hikaru. ‘Thank you.’
Hikaru didn’t answer. He seemed distracted, watching the clear-up go on around them. At last he turned back to Adam. ‘This is a volatile landscape. There have been tsunamis before and there will be tsunamis again. Many souls have been lost in the past. Perhaps in the future we can rely on science to predict when these events will occur. Perhaps there will never again be a tsunami where lives are lost.’
Adam nodded. ‘I hope so.’
‘You will never return to this country, Adam.’
Adam looked at him, startled. From anyone else he might have expected it to be a wind-up but it was clear that Hikaru wasn’t joking. ‘OK.’
Hikaru bowed. ‘And now we shall return to the physical world.’
Within moments Adam was standing before Kenai, whose face was one of stunned relief. He was actually smiling, beaming in fact. There was an animated conversation in Japanese accompanied by lots of bowing. Adam had simply wandered off, that was all, and been found by Hikaru. He had been fed and given a bed for the night because it was too dangerous to bring him back during the dark hours, with the electricity supply down. And now he was here, safe and well – and Kenai gave him a long, appraising glance to check that this was so. There was more bowing and Hikaru gave Adam one last piercing look. ‘Bye,’ Adam whispered to his receding back.
And a minute later there was a roar of happy disbelief when Kenai escorted him triumphantly through the building and back to his friends and teachers.
It was four days before they finally landed back in London. They had spent two more cold, uncomfortable, hungry evenings in Hachimana, waiting for the main roads to Tokyo to reopen. Adam had expected more tears and complaints but sitting on the coach, crawling along the highways, they could look towards the distant sea at patches of lunar landscape. Where they passed towns and cities whole streets and districts were just gone, scoured off the face of the earth. People had improvised makeshift shelters, too
scared to return to their buildings until the aftershocks subsided.
The airport was like a refugee camp, with thousands of tourists and travellers desperately trying to get flights home. The great Murai met them at the airport, led them into a private lounge and presented them each with a small sack containing clean clothes, toiletries and snacks. He was taking the tsunami almost personally. He bowed deeply and apologised for the disruption to their visit, offering to fly them all out to Japan again in the springtime. Judging by the looks on their teachers’ faces that was never going to happen …
Murai had managed to commandeer one of his own planes and informed them that they would be flying home the following morning. Strangely, this was the point when the tears came. It was like no one had dared to believe they would ever see their families again and now that it seemed like they might, some of the shock finally wore off. There was lots of hugging. Fenton was spotted soon afterwards, wiping his eyes and toasting Murai with sake. The Bulb was unusually quiet but he sat beside Miss Lumpton, holding her hand and smiling.
Archie nodded in their direction. ‘Do you think he was disappointed that he never met the Sensai?’
Adam shrugged. ‘I think he’s probably just happy to be alive.’
‘Did Spike send him another Sensai email?’ Dan was rooting through the emergency sack Murai had given them and triumphantly produced a packet of cashew nuts. He poured them into his mouth and gave a deep sigh of contentment.
‘Don’t know,’ Archie said, scowling across the lounge. ‘It’s not like he’s telling us anything.’
Adam’s stomach clenched. Most of his group were queuing up for the shower rooms or standing by tables full of tea and noodles. Spike was sitting with the other computer geeks, pointing at something on a laptop screen, talking animatedly. He was still clutching his broken laptop. Almost as if he felt Adam’s eyes, he turned and stared for a long moment, his face a mask, then looked away.