He stepped back quicker than a striking rattlesnake and caught her right heel in his uninjured right hand. Startled, an off-balance Julie Martin began to yell.
“Let me go!!” she screamed hopping on her left foot, whilst trying to hold down the hem of her skirt at the same time.
She tried several times to kick Billy with her captured right foot. However, Billy simply allowed her to kick, and absorbed the momentum with his arm.
“Julie Martin!!” came the familiar voice of her grandmother from the school gate.
“Help me Grandmamma, he’s trying to hit me!” she shrieked.
“No, he is not, you tried to kick him, you lying, wicked little girl, I saw you!” Margaret MacGregor snarled bounding up the worn sandstone steps with, what Billy Caudwell considered a surprising agility for someone of her age.
“So did I, Julie Martin!” came a stern voice from the steps of the building behind her.
Jean Connolly had just been leaving the building to find her car, when she had chanced upon the scene.
“But, but, but!” Julie Martin stammered, hopping on her left foot whilst trying to hold down the hem of her skirt, and to stop from falling over.
“No ‘buts’ from you young lady!” Margaret MacGregor snapped with a voice that stifled any argument and promised dire retribution, “you can let her go now young man,” she added to Billy, who dropped Julie’s attacking right foot, ”and what’s your name?” she asked.
“William Caudwell, Ma’am, Billy,” he replied, and felt a sense of pride he had never felt before as he said it.
“Are you the Billy Caudwell who saved my granddaughters life!?” Margaret MacGregor asked in astonishment.
“Well, I just happened to be there and,” Billy shuffled nervously, and he felt himself begin to blush.
“Young man, if I may call you Billy,” she began, “you saved my granddaughters life, at the risk of your own and to your injury, and I thank you for that. Now, Julie Martin, you will apologise for your unpardonable behaviour!” she snapped whilst roughly shaking, the anxiously shuffling girl by her side.
“I’m sorry, Billy,” she mumbled quietly, her eyes downcast.
“Speak up, girl!” Margaret MacGregor snapped, the years of teaching experience in schools, just like this one, showing through in her anger.
Julie started at the ferocity of her grandmother’s voice. “I’m sorry, Billy!” Julie shouted as loudly as she dared, without lifting her eyes.
“I trust there will also be a report to the Headmistress?” Margaret MacGregor looked over to Jean Connolly, who nodded sternly.
“I shall most certainly be reporting this incident to Mrs. Grant first thing in the morning Mrs. MacGregor,” Jean Connolly promised, recognising the wife of the former Director of Education for the County.
“Now go and sit in the car!” Margaret MacGregor ordered her errant granddaughter, who scampered off as fast as her feet could carry her.
“I trust Mrs. Grant will treat it with the utmost severity?” Margaret MacGregor asked.
“Oh, you may depend on that, Mrs. MacGregor,” Jean Connolly smiled wolfishly.
She had known that Julie Martin had been bullying younger students, perhaps even stealing money from them. However, no one was prepared to complain. Without complaints the teachers could do nothing about it, unless they caught her in the act. Now, Julie Martin had been caught, and Jean Connolly would take a great deal of pleasure reporting the incident.
“Good, I shall depend on it Miss…..?” Margaret MacGregor asked
“Connolly,” Jean Connolly responded with a smile.
“Miss Connolly, that young lady has been getting away with too much for far too long, her father was far too soft on her,” Margaret MacGregor intoned, “my compliments to Mrs. Grant, and tell her the most stringent methods, do you hear, the most stringent, nothing less will do!” she announced.
“Of course, Mrs MacGregor, we’ll make sure that Julie is watched and kept in line,” Jean Connolly smiled starting to feel rather like a chastised servant in Margaret MacGregor’s presence.
“Excellent, now if you would be so kind as to write down your address on a piece of paper for me, Billy Caudwell, I should like to pay a call on your parents Thursday evening,” Margaret MacGregor asked in a manner which seemed to Billy like an instruction.
Billy hurriedly scribbled his address on a piece of paper torn from his notebook and offered it up to the sprightly elderly lady. He wanted to get away from the scene quickly, he had chores in the house to complete, and after dinner he had to get back to New Thexxia. There were so many things that had to be done, and the last thing he needed was this delay.
“Thank you, Billy,” Margaret MacGregor smiled to him, and dismissed him with a nod.
Billy raced off to catch his bus; leaving the adults to discuss whatever adult things needed discussing.
For a moment, but just a single solitary moment, he felt a pang of sympathy for Julie Martin. He leapt down the steps and dashed for the bus stop. He knew he would never make it in time for the first bus stop beside the new Shopping Centre. But, if he was quick, he wouldn’t have the twenty minute wait for the next bus. As he ran, his breath bursting in his lungs, he was glad he wouldn’t be in Julie Martin’s shoes tonight.
That Mrs. MacGregor looked like a very formidable lady.
Chapter 46
By the time Margallan arrived in the cramped and untidy bedroom, the physical resistance was over. Gallus Bulbore, complete with night cosmetics, wearing a long blue gown protesting loudly, was pinioned against the wall and was being secured with wrist-restraints, whilst another officer pointed a weapon at her. Meanwhile, her husband lay on the bed clutching his hands to his bleeding nose and mouth. To dissuade him from further pointless activity a third officer was pointing a weapon at him.
“This is an outrage Margallan!” Bulbore shrieked from behind the caked blue evening cosmetics smeared onto her face, as the officer secured the wrist restraints none too gently, “I’ll have you Censured in Council for life!”
Falkus, thinking her blue-caked facial appearance was comical, folded his arms and smiled.
“Shut up!” yelled the black-clad arresting officer into her ear as he fought to put the restraints onto his struggling prisoner.
Unfortunately, Gallus Bulbore, who was too used to giving rather than receiving orders, did not have the sense to shut up.
“I am a Praetor on the High Council!” she protested, struggling, being shoved roughly towards the door by her captor.
“Gallus Bulbore,” Margallan said softly to her and smiled, “you are no longer a Praetor on the Council.”
This was his moment of victory, and he planned to savour it.
“I am an elected Praetor, Margallan, only my constituents can remove me!” she protested defiantly. The triumphant Praetor Maximus held up his hand and prevented the Civil Militia officer pushing the restrained Bulbore out through the door.
“No, Gallus,” Falkus Margallan smiled, pushing his smiling face up close to hers, “an act of high treason against the Council nullifies your election, your rights and your privileges.”
He was so close to her that he smelt the pungent aroma of her cosmetic face pack. It smelt sweet, but his victory this early morning tasted even sweeter.
“You have no proof!” she howled in protest, struggling against the wrist restraints and the powerful arms of the Militia officer. Keeping his face to within a few inches of the struggling rogue ex-Praetor’s, Falkus Margallan drove home his final argument.
“I have all the proof I need to have you executed, Gallus Bulbore,” he hissed softly.
“The meetings with sub-General Timmelin, the weapons, the plan to sabotage the Signing Ceremony and the plot to assassinate me!” Falkus smiled wickedly “Planning a little change of administration were we, Gallus?”
The last two accusations were a gamble, but the look on Bulbore’s face confirmed that there was indeed a plan.
; Her struggling stopped.
“Do you really think you could do my job?” Margallan pressed the stunned and guiltily silenced Bulbore.
She made no response, but with her head held high, she stared defiantly at the Praetor Maximus. Defiant until the very end, Falkus thought.
“Take her away,” Falkus Margallan ordered.
Silently, and sullenly, the disgraced ex-Praetor, Gallus Bulbore was pushed roughly, yet, unresisting, into captivity. She would be one of many suspected Separatists arrested in the raids that were taking place this night. First Admiral Caudwell’s intelligence report had made it possible for the Civil Militia to target the ringleaders and those involved in violent activities. Like many others, Gallus Bulbore’s final destination was to be the fast-filling Central Containment Facility where all of the other of this night’s arrestees would be kept until their trial for treason and murder.
As she was herded roughly away, Falkus Margallan turned on his heel and walked, slowly and triumphantly out of the bedroom.
Chapter 47
At the end of a long tunnel, a flight of about a dozen stairs led to an opening in the floor of the Great Auditorium. The opening was sheltered by a small canopy located to the north side of the stage. From there, it was a few yards to some further steps and onto the circular stage itself. Billy had heard about the Great Auditorium long before he saw the inside of the Ceremony Hall. With one million Thexxians whispering, talking and moving in their uncomfortable seats, he had expected to hear something similar to waves rushing against a shingle beach. A great whooshing and swishing noise that would tell Billy Caudwell that that there really were one million people to witness this event. The reality was more of a very loud, low, murmuring drone.
In the Hall itself, the more distant members of the audience watched the hundred metre square Tele-screens that hung from the roof and peppered the upper balconies, with increasing anticipation. Another four million watched eagerly in their homes. The whole of New Thexxia was focussed on this small stage. Billy Caudwell, feeling slightly uneasy, stood at the foot of the first stairs below the Great Auditorium. Above him he could not only hear, but feel, the expectant buzz of activity and conversation above him.
In front of him, Billy watched the stage manager, Shula, speaking softly to the director through a Comms Net, waiting for the signal to send Billy and Sownus up into the Auditorium. Behind Billy, doing his best to pretend that the beautiful Shula Targianen wasn’t actually there, a blushing and agitated Karap Sownus distracted himself by staring at the tunnel ceiling or adjusting his uniform for the umpteenth time. Standing waiting at the foot of the stairs, Billy had almost jumped out of his skin when the boomingly loud Public Address Announcer broadcast the presence of the Praetor Maximus. Falkus Margallan would be positioned with his staff in a similar position at the foot of the stairs, opposite to Billy, to the south of the main stage. The guide indicated that this was their cue to go up the stairs and out onto the stage.
At the top of the stairs, the sheer scale of the Auditorium amazed Billy. Twelve tiers of seats were banked up around him in the huge circular building. A great white dome that allowed bright sunlight to stream down onto the proceedings crowned the building like a grand beacon that could be seen for kilometres around. In the centre of the Auditorium, a small circular stage had been set up, with one flimsy-looking lectern, for the main protagonists and the treaty itself to stand. Looking upwards, Billy caught sight of the four huge one hundred metre tall Tele-Screens that hung precariously above the stage itself, and allowed all of the people seated at ground level to watch the action in glorious close-up.
Despite being used to the epic scale of Garmaurian construction, he had still only imagined that this place would be no larger than the Assembly Hall at school. His emergence from the floor caused a great cheer and burst of applause, however, Billy considered that this would be for Falkus Margallan.
Walking carefully towards the stage, Billy was aware of all the seating that completely surrounded the stage area. These were the V.I.P. seats for the great and good of New Thexxia.
After two dozen strides, Billy climbed the stairs onto the circular stage. He arrived at roughly the same moment as Falkus Margallan, whilst the audience cheered, stamped their feet, and applauded noisily. Falkus in his formal scarlet-red Praetor Maximus’ robes looked elegant and distinguished, whilst Billy felt a little bit shabby and out of place. The stage dressing consisted entirely of one rather spindly looking lectern upon which was set the Treaty of Alliance bound in a clear hard folio case. This was what it was all about now. All of the negotiating, arguing, struggling, fighting, killing, dying and effort came down to the next few minutes and three hundred and fifty-five clauses of the Treaty of Alliance. This would be the beginning of the Universal Alliance.
Flanking the stage were twelve Thexxians. Six in light blue Alliance uniform on one side and six in Thexxian military green on the other. To the rear of the stage stood the twenty witnesses; mainly Praetors. Gallus Bulbore, now languishing in the Central Containment Facility was notable by her absence; Falkus Margallan was not exactly upset by that. In fact, several of the Praetors were shuffling nervously on the stage. That morning, Falkus had called an Emergency Sitting and had announced the events of the previous night. After the meeting, he had privately informed several of his colleagues that from now on they were being watched by the Civil Militia. Despite their indignant protests, the message was rammed home, by a confident Margallan, loud and clear; step out of line and you’re out, permanently.
Up on the stage, Billy approached Falkus and held out his hand for a handshake. Side-stepping the outstretched hand, Falkus caught Billy in a bear hug that knocked almost all of the breath from Billy’s lungs. The audience that had been applauding politely now cheered and began stamping their feet in unison. It sounded to Billy like a huge army marching through the Great Auditorium. This was the Thexxian way of signifying approval.
“This is a great day, First Admiral!” a smiling Falkus Margallan yelled and, releasing an astonished Billy, shook him by the shoulders.
Falkus waved to the audience; working the crowd as only a seasoned political campaigner could. “With any luck I’ll be Praetor Maximus until my dying day,” Falkus thought to himself.
“Shall we?” Margallan said indicating the Treaty that stood on the small and ridiculously slim lectern, when the cheering had died down.
Billy nodded and smiled his assent. In a show of unity, Falkus grabbed Billy’s left hand with his right, in the murmuring buzz of the expectant audience.
And, holding both their hands up at shoulder height set his left hand on the Treaty. Smiling, Billy then set his free right hand onto the Treaty.
That was it, Billy thought, with a dreadful feeling of anti-climax.
Their hands touching the Treaty had brought the Universal Alliance formally into being. There were no fanfares or fireworks, just two people touching the Treaty and a few moments of respectful silence. Then, the crowd cheered and applauded wildly. As they shouted, a huge Alliance banner was unfurled from beneath the large Tele-screens, which brought another cheer from the Thexxians. It was Garmaurian light blue with a golden sunburst in the centre. It signified the new beginning, and a new dawn for the Thexxian people.
Yes, Falkus Margallan, you really know how to put on a show, Billy thought.
Beside him, a smiling Margallan whipped the crowd up with an encouraging hand gesture whilst still holding onto Billy’s hand. The audience loved it. They cheered and applauded and stamped their feet. Billy, deafened by the noise, still smiling, felt that the entire building was about to collapse with the vibration.
With the Treaty now signed both Falkus and Billy had to make celebration speeches. This was the moment that Billy really dreaded. Falkus stepped forwards as confidently as he could to the lectern, whilst Billy stood back next to the Witnesses.
“Citizens of the Universal Alliance,” Falkus began and paused.
As he had known the
y would, the crowd cheered and applauded loudly. Smiling, he stood back from the lectern to let the crowd applaud. When the applause, which lasted for almost a minute, had died down, he continued.
“This is a historic day for our new Alliance and for the people of Thexxia,” he began, his voice echoing through the Auditorium’s Public Address System, “For almost twenty years we have journeyed from our beloved and well-remembered homes. And, yes, we have suffered greatly in those years.” He paused and the audience murmured their agreement.
“We have felt and feared our enemy’s presence wherever we have gone,” he paused again, starting to rack up the tension, “We have seen our loved ones perish and we have felt the pangs of fear and hunger,” he paused once again to gauge the loudening murmurs.
“We have felt the heavy hand of disease and death on our shoulders. We have known pain, darkness and despair,” he paused, starting to choke with the emotion.
The entire Auditorium was deathly quiet, holding on to every word their Head of State uttered.
One million Thexxians in the Auditorium, and all the home viewers, were hanging on his every word. As a professional politician Falkus Margallan knew how to use this silence, and this moment. On the Tele-screen above the stage his huge image was seen wiping a stray tear from his face with the back of his hand.
“Now with our new Alliance,” he began again, but slightly quicker, his face beginning to deepen in colour and sweat breaking out on his forehead “I swear to you as Praetor Maximus, on this flag,” he grasped the new Universal Alliance banner hanging from below the View Screens, “and on my life, and the lives of my children, I say to you,” he paused for effect for what seemed like an eternity, “NEVER AGAIN!!!” he bellowed, slamming his fist down onto the flimsy lectern, which shook under the violent impact.
The effect was magical.
From a deathly silence, the audience, as one grand body, stood and erupted in a great screaming roar of hysterical cheering and applause. To Billy, it felt as if the foundations of the great building and the entire planet were shaking. Twenty years of pent up fear, anger, sadness, and above all relief, were being expressed in that great animal bellow. If the many Gods of the Thexxians were not awake already, then, they would be now, Billy thought. The cheering and applause lasted for a full three minutes. Calmly, Billy watched the animated and highly emotional audience in which even the normally reticent Karap Sownus was cheering and applauding. Falkus Margallan was indeed a shrewd and clever politician, Billy Caudwell considered.
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