Genuflect

by Tracy R Twyman

  “Isawyoutwowalkinguptothebuilding,”saidMs.Martina,sniffingasshe spoke.“Iwasjustcomingbackfromthelavatoryontheothersideoftheroom.I lookedoutthewindowandIsawyouwalkingdownSt.Stephen’sRow.”She sniffedagainandsmiled.

  Cocaine? Ithought.Itlookedlikeit.Hernosewasred.

  “Youcouldhavetakenthesecrettunnels,”saidRosenberg.“Ishouldhavetold youaboutthem!”HeandMarciabothlaughed.

  “Whatdoyoumean?”Isaid.

  “Therearetunnelsconnectingallofthesebuildings,andothers,”Marciasaid.

  “FromNewCourttoSt.Stephens.FromSt.StephenstoMansionHouse.

  FromMansionHousetotheBankofEngland.Allbuiltbymydeadhusband’s ancestors,ofcourse.Tomakeiteasiertocontroleverybody.”Ms.Martina laughedagain.

  “You’rejoking?”Iasked.

  “Notatall,”saidCrispin.“AndRosenbergPlazaisnowpartofthegridtoo.”

  IlookedatChesterfield.Hedidnotlookamused.HegrimacedattheLord

  Mayor.Thesilencewaspalpable.

  “OhbloodyHell,”saidMs.Martina.“IforgotwehadMI5inthehousetonight.”

  “AllthishasbeenclearedwiththeCity,Ipresume,”saidChesterfield,making notesonhisblackleathernotepad.Martinaleanedinandsquintedathim.

  “Darling,thisfamilyIStheCity,”shebragged.Shetookanothersipofher champagne.

  “Sowhatdoyouusereallythesetunnelsfor?”Iasked.

  “You’llfindouttonight,”saidRosenberg.“We’regoingonaspecialtourlater on.”

  “Ohreally,”Isaid.“I’mnotsurehowlongIcanstaythough.”

  “Ohyoudon’twanttomissthis,”saidMr.Wetzel.“Thefirstritualinaproperly restoredancienttempleinLondonforthirteen‐hundredyears.Whenwillyouget anotherchancelikethat?”

  Ohno,aritual? Ithought.ThehaironmyneckstoodupasIthoughtaboutmy lastexperiencewitharitualinsideLondon’ssecrettunnels.

  “What’shetalkingabout?”askedChesterfield.HeturnedtoRosenberg.“I thoughtthe mithraeumbelongedtothepeople.It’sapieceofBritishheritage thatjustsohappenstobeinsideyourbuilding.It’snotyourpersonal playground.”

  “We’rejustgoingtohavealittlefun,”saidCrispin.“It’saparty.Lightenup.”

  Chesterfieldlookedathischampagneglass,stillfull,andputhisnotebookinhis pocket.Rosenbergdeftlypivotedtheconversation.

  “Youknow,DutchbusinessmanErikUbels,whomIconsultedonthedesignof thePlaza,hassaidthatinthefutureallpartsofabuildingwillbeconnectedto alltheotherparts.What’smore,hesaidthatallofthebuildingsinacitywillbe connectedtoeachother.Tunnelsareonething,andthat’sbeengoingonfor centurieshereinEngland.Buttheywillalsobedoingthingslikesharing electricity,whichtheywillbegeneratingon‐siteforeachother.Andtheywillbe

  sharingdataabouthowthebuildingsarebeingused.TheCityofLondoninthe futurereallywillbea‘housewithmanymansions,’liketheNewJerusalem.I thinkthat’sexciting,andIliketothinkthatRosenbergPlazaishelpingtolead thismovement.”

  “Well,wegotWodinEnergythatconsultingcontract,”saidMartina.

  “Convincedthealdermenthatit’sworththeinvestment.Nowwecangetthemto agreetofundthethingswe’vealreadybeendoing.Soit’llbedonemonthsahead ofschedule,whichwillimpressthemandkeepthemhandingoutfunds.”

  “WodinEnergyisdoingforcitieswhatErikUbelsisdoingforbuildings,”

  Wetzelexplained,seeingmyconfusion.“Networkingthestreetlights,covering themwithsensors,andusingthedatatomakedecisionsthatboostenergy efficiency.Theycallthem‘SmartCities.’”

  “Londonisonthevergeofanewrenaissance,”saidCrispinwithpride,looking athisbosswithadmiration.“Rosenberghasbeenworkingwiththemayorof GreaterLondonontheriverrestorationprojecttoo,whichishuge.We’re bringingbackalltheculvertedundergroundrivers,liketheFleetandthe Walbrook.We’vebeenbuildingtheinfrastructureandconnectingittotheCity’s newSmartGrid.Whenit’sallunveiled,thepublicwillbecompletelyblown away.”

  “Whatwilltheriversbeusedfor?”Iasked.“Ithoughttheywereallmostly sewersnow.”

  “Theyusedtobe,”saidRosenberg.“Buttheyclosedthemoverandbuiltother sewers,thenmostlyabandonedtherivers.Theystilltrickleundergroundand emptyintotheThames.NowsinceMs.Augerhereisanexpertonoccultsecrets, I’lltellyouasecretaboutthewatersystemhereandletyoufigureoutwhatit means.”

  Everyonegotquietandscootedintheirchairssothattheycouldleanincloser.

  ExceptforPhilippine.Shecontinuedtostareblanklyoutthewindow.

  Rosenbergwenton.

  “Inthe1200stheybuiltaconduitbetweenTyburnSprings,onthecurrentsiteof BuckinghamPalace,andtheWalbrook,rightupLudgateHillwhereSt.

  Paul’sis,tobringfreshdrinkingwatertothemerchantsintheCity.Supposedly theystoppedusingitaftertheGreatFirein1666.ButtheengineersfromWoden Energyexploredtheoldconduit,andfoundatinytuberunningalongthelength ofthewholething,fromdirectlybeneathBuckinghamPalacetowherethe WalbrookmeetsBucklersburyonthenorthernsideofmy mithraeum,before turningwest.”

  Fromthecornerofmyeye,IsawChesterfieldwincewhenRosenbergsaid

  “my mithraeum.”

  “Whatdoyoumean,a‘tube’?”saidWetzel.“Likeaplastictube?”

  “Ohno.2.7milesofBurmeseglass,surroundedbyplainwhitePVCpipes,”

  hesaid.

  “Burmeseglass?Youmeanthatstufftheyusedtomakefromuraniumoxideand tinctureofgold?ThatwasQueenVictoria’sfavorite!It’sbeautiful,andso radiantinUVlight.Shecollectedtonsofit.Butusuallydishesandfigurines,not plumbingpipes.”

  “Yes,welltheremayhavebeenotherreasonswhyshehadthecompanyin Massachusettsthatmanufactureditmakesomuchofitforher.Theglassis usefulformaintainingthechemicalcompositionofthefluidrunningthroughit.I wouldn’tbesurprisedifthatcompanyitselfwassecretlycontractedtoproduce someofthesepipes.Andsomebodyisstillmakingthemnow.Certainsections ofthetubelinehaveobviouslybeenreplacedquiterecently.”

  “Youmeanit’sincurrentuse?”Iasked.

  “Yep,”hesaid.“Stillrunningwithfluid.”

  “Fluid?”everybodysaidallatonce.

  “Don’ttellmeyoudidn’tknow”saidRosenbergtoMartinawithamocking

  smile.ThenheturnedaroundandgavethesamelooktoCrispin.“Oryou.”

  Theyoungmanandhismotherlookedateachotherandshrugged.But Rosenbergwasright.Theywereplayingdumb.

  “Blake,whateverareyoutalkingabout?”saidMs.Martina.

  “DoyourememberwhatEdmundMortimercalledtheWalbrookRiverin Henry theSixth,whenhesatupontheLondonStoneandproclaimedhimselfLord Mayor?”

  Shelaughed.“Hecalledita‘pissingconduit,’”shesaid.“Whichitwas.”

  “Thenhedeclaredthattherivershouldrunwithnothingbutclaretwineforthe firstyearofhisreign,”hersonadded,swillingdownthelastofhischampagne.

  Hecalledtheservantsformore.

  “Sowhat’syourpoint,”saidChesterfield.“Istheresewerwaterstillrunning throughthisnarrowtubeintheconduitforsomereason?”

  “No,notsewerwater perse,”Rosenberganswered.“Puregoldenstreamsof urine.Obviouslycollecteddirectlyfromthesource,withoutcontamination.”

  OnceagainIthoughtaboutthetoiletsatRosenbergPlaza,andmyspeculation thatRosenbergmighthavebeengeneratingenergyfromhumanwasteproducts.

  Orhecouldhavebeenusingitforanynumberofotheresoteric,alchemical workings.Ormaybehewa
sjustasickpervertwholikedtobathinordrink otherpeople’spiss.

  Nowhewastellingusthatsomeoneelsewasdoingthesame—somebodyrich likehimwithaccesstotheremainsoftheconduit.Heimpliedthathethought theRothschildsatleastknewaboutit.Perhapstheydid.MarciaandCrispin seemedtobegettinguncomfortable.

  “HasthesiteofTyburnSpringsalwaysbeenthelocationoftheroyalresidence?”

  Iasked.

  “No,”saidWetzel.“ItbelongedtoEdwardtheConfessor,butthenalotofother peopleowneditbeforetheybuiltBuckinghamPalaceinthenineteenthcentury.”

  Animageflashedintomymindjustasatinglewentdownmyspine,asuresign thatIwasgettingoneofmyintuitions.ItwasapictureI’dseenbeforeofthe RiverofLifeflowingfrombeneathGod’sthrone.Thisisthewaterthatthe righteousdrinkfromtogaineternallife.Themessageisclear:immortalitycan begainedfromconsumingthebodilysubstanceofimmortals.

  God,intheOldTestament,isshownconsumingthefleshandbloodofsacrifices, lickingthemupwithtonguesoffire.Butwhiletheymighteatkoshermeat, bloodheforbadetotheHebrewpeople,asitcontained“thelife.”Forthesame reason,AdamandEvewerebootedfromParadisetopreventthemfromgaining accesstotheTreeofLife,whichwouldmakethem“liveforever.”

  Thefluidexchangeisthis:Goddrinksthe“WaterofLife”—blood,generally—

  fromthealtarsofhisworshippers.Hethenfeedsthe“treeoflife”inparadise withthe“rivers”thatissuefrombeneathwherehesits.Thetreegrowsthe

  “fruit”thatbringslife,andthatfruitisofferedbacktotheworshipperintheform ofthevivifyingfleshandbloodofJesus.

  WhatIwasnowhearingaboutfromRosenbergwasanexchangeinwhichurine wasbeingpipedfromalocationdirectlybeneathBuckinghamPalaceandinto thebusinessdistrict,righttothefrontdooroftheRothschilds.Thatis,rightto thefamilythathistoricallyfundedthegovernmentwhichpaidtheroyalsalary duringthenineteenthcentury,whenthisspecialroyalpissingconduitmayhave firstbeenbuilt.ForallIknew,theywerestilldoingso.

  Perhapsroyalurinehasaparticularvalueforthemsomehow,Ithought.

  “So,”saidRosenberg,breakingthesilence.“Sinceyoudon’tknowanything aboutthis,doyouthinkyourfather‐in‐lawdoes?”ItwasdirectedattheLord Mayor.

  “Look,everybodyknowsthesefreaksaredirtytothecore.Andricherthanthe Pope.Soifyou’retellingmethatmyin‐lawshaveaprivatepipelinecarrying prostitutepeefortheirgoldenshowerorgieshereatNewCourt,don’texpectme tobesurprised.I’veheardworse.MUCHworse.”Shethenturnedtoherson, glaredathim,andwalkedofftotherestroomagain.CrispinturnedtoRosenberg lookinghurt.Hespoke.

  “Blake,IdobelieveyouareviolatingtheLawofHospitality.Andthereis STILLatokenbetweenyouandmyfamilythathasnotbeensatisfied.”

  “Don’taccusemeofthat,”saidRosenberg,pointinginCrispin’sfaceandstaring himdirectlyintheeyes.“YouknowItakethatVERYseriously.”

  Wetzel,inanattempttobreaktheuncomfortablemood,leanedpastmeand askedChesterfieldhowtheinvestigationofPindar’smurderwasgoing.

  “Oh,we’reworkingonit,”theagentresponded,atotalnon‐answer.Hechanged thesubjectagain.“IheardyourpapermovedbackintoBrackenHouseround thecorner.”

  “Yep,”saidWetzel.“Sameclassyoldbuilding.Wejusthaditoutfittedforthe modernage.”

  Chesterfieldturnedtome.“BrackenHouseisacrosstheSquarefromSt.

  Paul’s.It’stheonewiththezodiacclockonthefrontfeaturingthefaceof WinstonChurchillastheSun.It’sthehistorichomeofthe FinancialTimes,but theymovedoutforafewyearswhiletheplacewasrefurbished.”

  Irememberedseeingthatplacewhenwewerewalkingtothemurderscenethe nightbefore.

  “Today’sbeenahellofadayforyourpaper,Iimagine,”saidChesterfield.

  “Wheredoyouthinkit’sallgoing?”

  “Directlydownthetoilet,”theEditorresponded.“TheEuro’sobviouslytrash.

  Whichmayhelpthepoundintheimmediate,butunlessyou’retheseblokesyou won’tfeelthebenefit,”hesaid,pointingtoMarcia,CrispinandBlakewitha broadswirlofhisfinger.

  “Soyouguysaren’tsufferingatallfromEurope’scollapse?”Isaid.

  “Areyoukidding,”Ms.Martinasaid,laughingasshesatbackdownatthetable again.“Wecausedit.Thatistosay,werefrainedfromproppingthemupany longer.‘GoingGalt,’astheysay.Thepeoplewon’tacceptausterity,theyrefuse tofacefacts,sowecan’tkeepdolingoutfreecredittostatesanylonger.

  Butwe’veallbeenhoardinggoldformonths.Sowewon’tgohungry.Quitethe contrary.We’reontheprecipiceofwhatyoumightcall‘theGreatReaping.’”

  ShewinkedatRosenberg.Hesmiledemptily.

  Icouldneverimaginethattheworld’seliteactuallyrefertothemselvesas

  ‘we’thesamewaywenon‐elitesrefertothemas‘they,’Ithoughttomyself.

  Theirarrogancewastrulyamazing,acombinationofcinematicandsurreal.

  “Pamela,yourememberthestoryofJosephandhisbrothersin Genesis,right?”

  saidRosenberg.

  “Moreorless,”Ianswered.“Why?”

  “Haveyoueverthoughtabouthowittellsthestoryoftheprocessbywhicha peoplebecomeenslavedthroughusury?Joseph’sbrotherscomefromCanaanto Egypt,lookingtobuyfoodduringafamine.Theydon’tknowhe’sthebrother theysoldintoslaverysometimeago.Theyfindthat,becauseofhisgreat psychicinsight,whichpredictedthefamine,he’sbeenstoringupgrainforseven yearsinPharaoh’sgranaries.”

  Inodded.Hecontinued.

  “Hepliesthemwithfreebies.Hemakesthemthinkthefoodwasfreebecause themoneytheyboughtitwithmagicallyreappearedintheirsacksafterwards.

  Hetakesoneofthemcaptiveascollateral,Simeon.Thenhetriesto trickthemintogivinguptheirlittlestbrother,Benjamin,asaslavetohim,by falselyaccusinghimofthetheftofhissilverdivinationcup.”

  “Whereisallthisgoing,Blake,”saidMissMartina.“YouknowIdespisethe Bible.”Sheyawnedandsippedherchampagne.Rosenbergrolledhiseyesand kepttalking.

  “ThenheconvincedPharaohtogivehisbrothersagoodsliceofthebestlandin Egypt,andlotsmorefreestuffbesides.Theylivedtherefatandhappyfortwo years,untilthefaminespreadtoEgyptaswell.Thenthetrueprocessof enslavementbegan.”Heclearedhisthroat,andsmiledeerily.

  “FirstJoseph,onbehalfofPharaoh,tookallthemoneyfromboththeEgyptian andtheCanaanitepeopleinexchangeforbreadfromPharaoh’sgranary.

  Thenthemoney“failed”intheland.Allofthecoinsofrealvaluebeinginthe handsofthePharaohnow,anythingcoinedasmoneyfromthatpointonwould notbeacceptedbythemarketasastoreofvalue.Weallknowthat.”

  Crispin,MarciaandMr.Wetzelallsmiled,nowpickinguponthesimilarities betweentheBiblestoryandthepresentsituation.

  “PeoplelikemeandtheRothschildshaveallthegoldnow,”Rosenberg continued.“ThecomingbreakawayEuropeanstatescanprinttheirownmoney alltheywant.Butnobodyabroadwillacceptit.Andthemarketalreadyknows

  it.”

  “Butletthemtry,”saidMarcia.“Ireallywanttoseethemtry.”

  “Returningtothestory,”saidRosenberg,annoyedattheinterruption,

  “Josephnexttookcattle,fromboththeEgyptiannativesandtheCanaanite aliens,hisownbrethren,inexchangeformorebread.Thatlastedonlyayear.

  Afterthat,therewasnothingleftbutforthepeopletoofferuptheirlands,and theirbodiesforslaves,inexchangeformerebread.”

  “NowtheywereallslavestoPharaoh,withJosephintherealseatofpoweras vizier.Butt
heCanaaniteswerethehappyslaves,becausetheygotspecial treatmentfromJoseph,onaccountoftheirrelationtohim.Thealiensgrewmore prosperousandmorenumerousintheirconditionofslaverythanthenative Egyptians,andthisbredcontempt.SowhenanewPharaohcametothethrone, heinstitutedapolicyoftreatingtheCanaanitealiensmoreharshly.”

  Hestoodupwithhiseyesclosedandhisarmsraisedup,bentattheelbow,his palmsturnedoutwardtowardsus.

  “ThisishowtheconditionofharshslaveryinEgyptcameuponthechildrenof Israel.ThisisalsohowtheEgyptiansthemselvesbecameslavestotheir Pharaoh.ItwasbecauseofthefinancialmachinationsoftheirbrotherJoseph, wilylikeHermesthethief.”

  “I’veactuallythoughtforsometimethatthefigureofJosephisamaskedform ofThothorDjehuty,theEgyptianHermes,”Isaid.“Judealso.”

  “Well,yes,‘Djehuty’soundsalotlike‘Yehudi,’doesn’tit,”Rosenbergagreed.

  “Usingconfidencetrickstogainwealthandpower,toenslavethemasses throughmoney.That’swhatbothJosephandHermeswereknownfor.Andthat’s thepopularstereotypeofthemoney‐grubbingJewthathasenduredforalmost twomillennia.”

  “Becausetheykeeplivinguptoit!”howledMissMartina.Rosenbergshothera lookofdisapproval.Shelookedawayfromhimtowardsme.

  “IwasmarriedtoonesoIcansayit,”shechuckled.“I’vecountedhismoney.I knowwhatI’mtalkingabout.”

  “Wellthere’sonemoreparallelwiththeanti‐Semiticstereotype.Josephwas originallyaslave,analien,butcametoruletheland defactobyingratiating himselfwiththeroyalhouse:bymakinghimselfindispensable.”

  “HetookDaleCarnegie’sadvice,”jokedWetzel.

  “Heusedhismind’seyetogainintelligencethatgavehimpower.Becauseitwas useful.Thinkonthat,MissAuger,”saidRosenberg,raisinghiseyebrowatme.

  “Why?”Iasked.

  Beforehecouldanswer,therewasaflurryofmovementaroundus.Itwas dizzyinganddisorienting.Itallhappenedsoquickly,Ididn’trealizewhatwas goingon.Ididn’tactuallyseeanyoftheservantscarryingtheplatters.Butwhen themovementpassed,Ilookeddownandsawashinysilverplateinfrontofme withatinybirdonit,bakedwithacaramelizedsauté.Weeachhadone.The plateswerealldifferentcolorsand,itlookedlike,madefromdifferentmaterials.