by HR Moore
Three days later, Helena pulled up at a large, commercial farm outside of Kingdom as Marcus had instructed. She parked her car and entered a yard bursting at the seams with humanity; so many people standing in ranks that she briefly wondered if she were delusional. Marcus was standing on a makeshift stage in front of one of the barns; he cut a lonely figure, dressed like his troops, all in black, nothing but a microphone stand to keep him company as he addressed the army before him.
‘Soldiers,’ he began, his voice ringing confidently across the yard, like his father, his shoulders set square, as though he were entirely assured they would follow his commands, ‘at least that was what my father and Amber have always called you. But I think of you as something altogether different, something better than mere soldiers doing the bidding of another. I think of you as people with a choice, a crucial choice at a pivotal point in our history, that you alone can make. You can choose to continue the work you’ve been doing; to evict poor, helpless people from their businesses and livelihoods, to subjugate those who have no way of fighting back, to continue eating like Gods when the rest of the world starves,’ he paused to let his unlikely words sink in. ‘Or, you can choose to help solve the problems we face, to help me and the Institution find a way to stabilize the energy, to rebuild our food economy, and to restore faith in the system that has given us prosperity for so long.’
He paused again and a screeching filled the air, another car hurtling to a standstill at the side of the yard. Four burly men clad in black clambered out and escorted Amber to the stage, where she stepped up alone, positioning herself aggressively at Marcus’ side. ‘What’s going on here?’ she demanded, purposefully raising her voice so the microphone would pick up her words.
‘Amber,’ Marcus addressed her like an inferior, ‘so good of you to join us, and just on cue,’ he turned back to address his army. ‘The choice you have today is simple; choose to stay with me and help send the relic back, working with all groups to forge a new society when that’s done, or, if you’d rather cross your fingers and hope for the best, then choose to stick with Amber.’ He turned to face her, ‘presumably that’s what you want?’ She nodded, so he continued. ‘Now is the time to make your choice; consider carefully as your place in our future depends on it. Those choosing to side with me, please come forward to the stage, those choosing to side with Amber, move to the back. Please make your choice now.’
Helena couldn’t believe what she was witnessing; Marcus had chosen to help the Institution, to send the relic back, and then afterwards, to help build a better world. She held her breath as she watched the mass of people jostle around, unable to make out from the blur which way the majority were headed. A minute or so later silence fell over the yard and Marcus addressed his audience once more.
‘Those at the back of the yard, please leave now with Amber. I wish you all well. Those who have chosen to stay with me,’ a good sixty to seventy percent of the force from what Helena could see, ‘please reconvene here in an hour. I thank you for your loyalty.’
As Marcus left the stage, a roar of voices erupted into the silence, the soldiers equally surprised at this strange turn of events. Amber’s cronies barked orders at those who’d sided with her, eventually managing to march them out of the yard to who knew where and to do who knew what, but certainly something that would cause trouble before too long. The yard slowly emptied, Marcus issuing orders to his loyal Lieutenants. He had invited ten key members of the army to dinner the night before, to ensure he could count on their support, and these were the men and women he would now entrust to help him navigate their uncharted next steps.
Helena hung around, waiting to speak to Marcus, still struggling to get her head around what she’d just witnessed. ‘That was quite some speech,’ she said, full of admiration, when Marcus had finally finished organising their immediate next steps.
‘Thanks. It wasn’t a foregone conclusion that any of them would side with me, but we’ve kept more than I could have hoped for.’
‘So what happens next?’ Helena asked.
‘We’re still working that out,’ he said, ‘but for a start, we’re going to stop evicting people from their farms. Then we’re going to do everything we can to support the preservation of the livestock we have left and try everything we can think of to encourage decent crop yields again next year. And of course we need to have a conversation about what happens next with the plan to send back the relic. I heard Gwyn has agreed to help too?’
‘Yes, she was under duress, but she’s agreed to help us. It’s going to take a couple of weeks for us to finalise everything; Bas laid most of the groundwork, but there are a few outstanding things to do, and Alistair needs to get fully up to speed if we’re to have the best possible chance of succeeding.’
‘Alistair’s agreed to help the Institution? How did you manage to pull that off?’
‘We didn’t. He just decided he wanted to re-join us. All I can think is that he wants to see Bas’ final work brought to life.’
‘Luckily for us; it’s not like we have other options.’
‘True.’
‘But as I understand it, Bas’ plan won’t actually return the relic to the Gods, it will just move it from its current location, which will make everyone think the prophecy has been fulfilled, which should in itself have a positive effect on the energy?’
‘That’s the theory.’
‘But what happens after that? What if it doesn’t have the desired effect on the energy, or if we can’t then find a way to actually send the relic back? Surely that would have a significant adverse effect on the energy?’
‘Truthfully, we have no idea. If Bas’ theory doesn’t work then it’s likely we’ll have total chaos on our hands pretty much over night. If it does, then we’ll turn all our efforts to sending it back properly. If we can’t find a way to do that, then who knows what will happen. We’ve managed to survive for hundreds of years living with the relic and the prophecy, so it stands to reason we’ll have a good amount of time to work this out, so long as Bas’ theory was correct, and the energy responds as he thought it would.’
‘Or the Gods could punish us.’
‘I can’t deny it’s a risk, but apart from sending us the prophecy and relic the Gods have always stayed out of our affairs, so there’s no reason for them to start meddling now. And anyway, it feels a lot like they’re punishing us at the moment, so maybe they’ll like the fact we’re finally doing something to try and overcome the challenge they’ve sent us.’
Chapter 16
‘Descendants, Councillors, children of the Temples of the Mind, Body and Spirit…,’ Alexander’s smooth, reassuring voice sailed out from the radio. Anita and Alistair were sitting in the Observatory (Patrick had been mysteriously absent for weeks now), waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next. The start of the energy fall had corresponded with Austin’s announcement about Christiana’s death, so it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility to think an upturn could begin with this announcement. Anita’s energy was taught, her body ridged, and she read from Alistair’s energy that he was feeling the same way. They’d been working for three weeks on perfecting Bas’ theory, considering all angles and conducting small scale experiments to test the finer points of the execution. All had gone according to plan and they were now ready to announce it to the world.
‘…I am sure it has escaped the notice of not a single one of us that our world has been in severe energy decline since the death of the Body Descendant, Christiana. And I am sure there is not a single one of us who has not been affected in some terrible way by the consequences of that decline. For this, I am deeply sorry; sorry the Descendants could not do more, sorry you have all had to suffer, and sorry I have not been able to make this announcement sooner. However, today marks a turning point, because today I can finally tell you we’ve found a solution,’ he paused, Anita’s eyes fixated on the dashboards in front of her, ‘we have found a way to send the relic back to the Go
ds.’
Another long silence spilled from the radio, Alexander letting the news sink in, Anita willing the dials to respond. Nothing happened, Alexander’s voice piercing the silence once more. ‘One week from today, at eleven o’clock, at the Temples in Kingdom, the Descendants will return the relic. We welcome all of you to attend and we pray to the Gods that our plan succeeds.’
The transmission cut out, Alistair and Anita continuing to sit in apprehensive silence, not wanting to look away for a second lest they miss some small indication that the energy was responding. They sat for a full hour before noticing any signs, and when they did, they couldn’t even be sure they were witnessing something concrete; one or two of the most sensitive receivers showing a slight uptick. ‘I suppose it’s a start,’ said Alistair, wearily.
‘Barely,’ Anita replied, ‘and nothing like we saw when Christiana’s death was announced.’
‘That’s because people always respond to bad news more violently than good. People are sceptical, it’ll take them a while to believe it’s really happening. It might even take until after they’ve seen the relic sent skywards for them to truly believe.’
‘I suppose so,’ replied Anita, tapping a couple of the dials in front of her just to make sure they were working.
Alistair laughed. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘there’s nothing more we can do here at the moment. I’ll come back later to check if there’s been any movement, but for now, let’s go and meet the others at The Island.’
Anita agreed; it felt good to finally be back in Empire and she welcomed the prospect of a couple of escapist hours with Cleo and the others, drinking some crazy new cocktail and gossiping about whatever scandal Cleo had unearthed that day.
*****
Anita returned to the Observatory later that evening, insisting Alistair go home, reassuring him she would call if there was anything to report. He reluctantly agreed and Anita was relieved when he did, relishing the prospect of spending a couple of hours by herself in the quiet of the great brass Observatory.
She climbed the stairs to the middle level and sat down at the dashboards, recording the readings methodically one by one. She was pleased to see a slight upturn in the energy levels; the most sensitive dials had moved up more dramatically now and the less sensitive ones were beginning to respond as well. Her spirits lifted as she moved along the dials, finally feeling like what they were doing might actually work.
She finished recording the readings, deciding against ringing Alistair; he needed some respite too, and anyway, nothing all that significant had really happened. She headed to the third floor, her favourite level, to look out over Empire. Now that winter had them fully in its grips the sky was pitch black, the lights of Empire punching violently upwards, the stars standing aloof above them, twinkling majestically, unconcerned by the competition below. Anita stood mesmerized for several moments, recalling the hundreds of times she and Bas had stood or sat together in the same spot, laughing about something Patrick had done, or considering some energy related problem. She moved away from the edge and lay on the largest of the energy receivers, the lolloping waves reverberating through it providing a strange sort of comfort, and nobody there to tell her off about the effect this would have on the readings below.
She leaned her head back against the smooth, cold, brass and closed her eyes, dropping her hands so they rested on the roof either side. She brought her hands together underneath the metal, stretching out her tense shoulders, feeling a wave hit her, the energy pouring through her and down into the instruments below. Knowing she shouldn’t linger too long, lest she have a meaningful impact on the readings, she released her hands and made to sit up, but as she did so, her right hand brushed against a piece of paper stuffed into the underside of the brass. Anita’s skin prickled with intrigue; maybe this would explain where Patrick had disappeared to so suddenly, but when she unfolded the paper, it became quickly apparent this wasn’t anything to do with Patrick; it was a note from Bas and it was meant for her.
She scanned the writing, rereading it several times, lowering it when she finally thought she’d taken in the meaning of Bas’ words. The message was cryptic, taking steps to obscure its point, but it certainly related to the plan to send the relic back and seemed to contain some kind of warning. From what she could make out, some part of Bas’ calculation had been troubling him, although he couldn’t put a finger on what exactly, nor why. He thought it was something relating to the relic itself, however, if she were deciphering the message correctly, he hadn’t discussed it with anyone else, not fully trusting someone within the Institution, although who it didn’t say. The hair on the back of Anita’s neck stood on end; something was wrong and she didn’t know who she could trust to help her find out what.
*****
Anita flopped down beside Alexander, leaning in to him and putting her feet on the sofa as he pulled her towards him, one strong arm around her. They’d retreated to Alexander’s cottage on the outskirts of Empire, the fire crackling across the cosy sitting room, both feeling full of beef stew, tired and a little fuzzy headed having recently moved onto their second bottle of rich red wine. All they had talked about for days were the arrangements to stage the sending back of the relic; from security measures, to viewing screens, to the exact positioning of each Descendant, to crowd control given the number of people expected to attend, to the strange disappearance of all protestors from the Temples after the announcement had been made. But Anita couldn’t let go the nagging feeling that something was wrong and Alexander could feel her tension.
‘You’re still thinking about the note?’ he asked kindly as she wriggled into a more comfortable position.
‘Aren’t you?’ she replied, turning her wine glass in her hand. ‘Bas wasn’t dramatic; he wouldn’t have left something so cryptic if there was nothing to worry about, and he didn’t share his concerns with either Patrick or Anderson, which means he didn’t trust them.’
‘But neither Patrick nor Anderson are working on returning the relic any longer, so we don’t need to worry about them, and if Bas was genuinely concerned his plan wouldn’t work he wouldn’t have kept it to himself.’
‘He obviously didn’t think it would lead to the plan falling on its face or he would have scraped it, but there’s something he wasn’t happy with.’
‘But you can’t find what it is either,’ he said, caressing her arm.
‘No.’
‘What does Alistair think?’
‘We’ve been through everything with a fine tooth comb and we can’t find anything that looks odd, although, seeing as no one has attempted something like this before, we don’t exactly know what we’re looking for.’
‘Well maybe Bas was being overly cautious? Or maybe the note is from ages ago and it’s a problem he overcame before he died? Or maybe there isn’t a problem at all? Is it possible you’ve misinterpreted his meaning?’
‘Anything’s possible, but I don’t think so, I’ve looked it over a hundred times and I can’t think of any other conclusion.’
‘And Alistair’s looked at it too?’
‘Yes. He can’t decipher it at all.’
‘Well I’m not sure there’s a great deal else you can do then,’ he said, kissing the top of her head. ‘We’re setting everything up tomorrow and the big day’s the day after, and I pity anyone who tries to put the brakes on at this stage; the mob would rule Kingdom before I could get half way through the announcement!’
‘I know,’ replied Anita, sitting up in frustration, ‘it just feels like there’s something we’re missing.’
*****
There was a frost in the air the following morning, Anita and Alistair at the station in Empire, carefully packing the equipment they needed onto the first train of the day. The sun was still struggling to break across the horizon when they’d finished and Cleo turned up with flasks of tea and containers filled with porridge topped with honey. They sat in the rickety wooden waiting room, green paint peeling off the
walls, and ate greedily as Cleo filled them in on who would be coming with them versus who was already there.
Gwyn and Marcus had of course already gone ahead, but Helena and the rest of the Institution members, including Peter, which of course was scandalous seeing as he should really be with Gwyn, would be travelling to Kingdom with them. The Spirit Leader and a few of his monks were to join them when they arrived in Kingdom, and most of the Councillors were also already there.
‘What about your new boyfriend?’ asked Anita, provocatively. ‘Will we be seeing him there?’
Cleo shot Anita a dark look. ‘As you well know I don’t have a new boyfriend, so I shan’t be expecting anyone in Kingdom.’
‘What about your father?’ asked Alistair, clearly uncomfortable by the turn the conversation had just taken. ‘Will be he joining us there?’
‘Of course,’ said Cleo, happily utilising any excuse to move away from talk of the mysterious man, who, infuriatingly, had cropped up only twice in her life so far. ‘Dad will be there; it’s too good an opportunity to sell stuff for him to miss,’ she said gleefully. ‘He’s coming back from the Wild Lands with a bumper load of beer that he’s intending to sell to the crowd at exorbitant prices,’ she smiled as she said it, ‘and knowing him, he’ll probably succeed.’
They waited for another twenty minutes for everyone else to arrive and then boarded the train, filling multiple carriages. Anita, Alexander and Cleo hung around outside for as long as they could, making sure they were the last to board, meaning they could avoid the carriages already occupied and sit away from the others. The train doors banged shut, the whistle blew, and to Anita’s surprise, just as they were gliding away from the station, the carriage door slid open and Cordelia stepped through, Alexander immediately jumping up to help her place her luggage in one of the racks above them.
‘Oh good,’ said Cordelia, ignoring the startled look on Anita’s face, ‘I am glad you’ve secured a carriage away from those dreadful Institution people, with the added benefit that we won’t have to share the picnic I’ve brought with me. Now, let me see,’ she said, setting herself down next to Cleo, pretending to be oblivious to the obvious, unanswered, question floating between them, ‘I’ve got flasks of tea, apricot flapjacks and cinnamon granola bars; thought they’d all travel well, don’t you think? I’ve also brought a couple of apples, much more boring, but just in case, you never know when someone’s going to be on a health kick,’ she said, disapprovingly.