The Marus Manuscripts

by Paul McCusker

  The crowd responded with a deafening roar. Tyran basked in their approval for a moment, then waved them once more to silence.

  “If you are with me—if you swear allegiance to my cause—then I swear allegiance to you,” Tyran said. “Let us all bow and pledge ourselves to a united city, a united nation, and a united future together!”

  Slowly, the crowd began to kneel. Tyran took the microphone from the stand and also knelt there on the stage. Dr. Lyst slid from his seat to his knees. Wade watched them with an ache in his heart. The doctor reached over and tugged at Wade’s robe. Wade looked at him. He gestured for Wade to kneel. Wade shook his head. Dr. Lyst frowned at him and gestured more firmly. Wade whispered, “No. We don’t kneel to leaders in our world.”

  “But you’re in this world now,” Dr. Lyst whispered back. “And I strongly urge you to kneel now.”

  Wade was suddenly aware that the audience had noticed his hesitation. Tyran looked at him from the corner of his eye, then hooked a thumb at one of his guards at the edge of the stage. The guard moved slowly toward the stairs. Wade had no doubt that he would be made to kneel whether he wanted to or not.

  “You’re only supposed to kneel to God,” Wade said quickly, as if it would make a difference to anyone. It didn’t. But Wade was now stubbornly determined to keep his seat. Kneeling to Tyran would be like worshiping him, Wade thought. I won’t do it.

  The crowd was silent. The only sound Wade heard was the guard’s footsteps on the stairs leading to the stage. Wade glanced around, a panic growing in his gut. He would make a run for it if he had to.

  The guard was only a few feet away when a voice cried out from the crowd, “Don’t touch the boy!”

  All eyes went to the source of the voice. A single man stood in the center of the kneeling crowd. It was Arin.

  Is this what it’s come to?” Arin shouted defiantly, his voice in no need of amplification. “Now you’re kneeling to a man because he makes a few promises? Because he can destroy houses? Because he murders innocent people?”

  “Go back to your compound, Arin!” someone yelled at him. “You have no place here.”

  Tyran stood up. “No,” he beseeched the crowd, “I am glad the prophet is here.”

  Arin smiled. “Are you?” he challenged. “Will you try to bully me into kneeling just like you were going to bully the boy?”

  “I am glad you are here,” Tyran said, “because the dawn of our new age would not be complete without saying farewell to the old age. You are that old age.”

  “You will say good-bye to this age—and this world!” Arin said, pointing at Tyran. “Hear the words of the Unseen One: ‘The stench of your wickedness has filled My nostrils, just as the stench of your dying bodies will fill the nostrils of the vultures who will feast on you!’”

  “You preach doom, Arin, and the people of this city are tired of it,” Tyran countered. “I promise that the next house to be destroyed will be your own. I will see to it personally.”

  “You will see to nothing, for your eyes will be filled with the disease of your sin.”

  “Witness for yourselves!” Tyran said to the crowd. “I bring you a promise of a new beginning, a new era, and Arin whines of doom and disease. Have we not all suffered enough from his words?”

  The crowd began to rise. “Yes!” one man shouted. This affirmation was followed by more.

  “Away with Arin!” someone else cried out. It soon became a chant that they shouted as one voice: “Away with Arin! Away with Arin!”

  “As your new governor, I will make Arin my first case of judgment!” Tyran said. “I will show him how well our city tolerates his madness! Bring him to me!”

  The crowd, now a mob, turned on Arin, reaching for him. Wade jumped to his feet, desperate to see what would happen next. At first he thought Arin might fight back—he raised his arms as if to swing out against them—but then he suddenly dropped down, as if falling to his knees. The crowd moved in to the center, but it soon became obvious that the people were confused. The men and women looked around helplessly. “Where is he?” many shouted.

  Arin was gone.

  Men dressed similarly to Arin were suddenly grabbed and beaten by mistake. This triggered more confusion and violence. In no time at all, the rally had turned into a riot. Tyran shouted for control, but no one listened.

  The old woman who had yelled at Wade before now leaped to the stage. “Seize the boy!” she shrieked. “He is evil!”

  Tyran’s guards tried to grab her and the other people who also climbed onto the stage, but they were outnumbered. Dr. Lyst suddenly stepped between Wade and the oncoming swarm, pushing Wade backward. Wade stumbled to the rear edge of the stage. “Run!” Dr. Lyst shouted at him.

  Wade saw a gap between the back of the stage and the wall of the building next to which it had been assembled. He wiggled down through the gap and found himself in the hollow underside of the grandstand. It was an empty catacomb of wooden crossbeams, completely enclosed from the crowds beyond. The mob’s footsteps sounded like thunder above.

  Wade half-ran, half-crawled in a hunched-over position away from the noise. He ducked and dodged the woodwork and finally reached the end of the grandstand. Squeezing through another gap, he found himself in the open again, but at the far rear corner of the stage. Most of the mob was still around to the front. He crouched low, hoping no one would see him. He heard a child scream. Startled, he turned to see that the child was screaming at him. He raced down an alley away from the square. Behind him, someone cried, “There he goes!”

  The alley led to another alley, which in turn deposited him onto a main street. Wade slowed to a trot and tried to blend in, but the people soon noticed his blond hair and reacted with fear. Some tried to grab him once they realized he was being pursued by the crowd behind. He legged it down another alley, this one darker, with garbage littered along the walls and tattered clothes hanging from laundry lines above. He ducked into a doorway and started to tie the collar of his robe over his head to hide his hair. A pursuer reached the opening to the alley and said, “I think he went this way!”

  Wade panicked and reached behind him. His fingers wrapped around a door latch, and he pushed on it. The door opened easily. Wade slipped in, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. Breathlessly he waited. The mob rushed by with the sound of an angry lion, kicking garbage cans and tearing at the hanging clothes on the way.

  Wade didn’t know how he knew, but he suddenly sensed he wasn’t alone. He turned to face the room he’d just entered. It was in deep shadows except for thin shafts of light that broke through old shutters. “Is someone there?” he asked.

  A raspy whisper replied, “What are you doing in my house?”

  “I’m sorry,” Wade said. “Those people were chasing me, and—”

  “Are you a thief?” asked the whisper.

  “No.”

  “Come closer.”

  Wade squinted, hoping to see what he was supposed to get closer to. As his eyes adjusted, he made out a bed in the corner of the room. The whisperer was in it. Wade slowly made his way over.

  “Take that cloth off your head,” the whisper ordered.

  Reluctantly, Wade obeyed.

  The whisper chuckled, then broke into a harsh cough. “I thought so,” it said eventually. “Don’t you know me?”

  Wade looked closer and was repulsed by what he saw. The gaunt face looked as if someone had draped a thin layer of skin on a skull. A mustache hung limply above the upper lip. Crusty, yellow patches gathered around the nose and the corners of the eyes. Yet Wade knew the face.

  “You were one of the men who kidnapped me,” Wade observed.

  “Movan at your service,” the whisper replied.

  “What happened to you?”

  The face turned away for a moment to cough, then said, “I got sick. Can’t imagine what it is, but I’m having a hard time shaking it. I’m sure I will, though. Just a few days’ rest, and I’ll be back on my feet.”
>
  “You should see a doctor,” Wade suggested.

  “I already did. He told me to go to the hospital. I hate hospitals. They take you in the front door, then send you to the cemetery out the back. Not for me, thanks. I’ll take my chances here in the comfort of my own bed.” Movan wheezed for a moment. “So they’re giving you a run for your money?”

  “Sort of.”

  “You can lie low here for a while. I don’t mind, if you don’t mind making me some tea.” The lips stretched across the teeth in a stark grin. The mustache drooped more.

  Wade shuffled uncomfortably. “The crowd is gone. I should go.”

  “Tell you what: Stay here and I’ll pretend to hold you hostage. Then we’ll split the ransom money from the highest bidder. How about that?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Just a thought.”

  Wade moved slowly toward the door. “Good-bye, Movan,” he said. “I hope you get better soon.”

  “I hope so, too. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  “Maybe.” Wade carefully opened the door, checked the alley in both directions, then stepped out. He took a deep breath to try to recover from the sight of Movan. He isn’t going to live, Wade thought. Wade was also sure that the radioactivity from Dr. Lyst’s experiments with the bombs must have gotten into the water or the air or something that had reached the people. That’s why so many were getting sick. Tyran’s castle was probably saturated with the stuff, which is why Cromley died.

  But why aren’t I sick? he asked himself.

  No answer was forthcoming, so Wade covered his head again and walked down the alley, making sure to go away from where the crowd had run. He approached the main avenue again and, staying close to the wall, inched around the corner.

  Just then, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

  Don’t move,” Arin said quietly. He had a hood pulled over his head to shadow his features. “You move too quickly, you see. It arouses suspicion. But if you walk slowly and purposefully, people don’t notice you.”

  “How did you escape the mob?” Wade asked.

  “I am under the protection of the Unseen One. They couldn’t harm me.” He then said wryly, “Well, they couldn’t harm me very much.”

  “What are we supposed to do now?”

  “I would suggest we return to the compound,” Arin said. “At least that’s where I’m going. Will you come with me?”

  Wade nodded, grateful for the offer.

  “Come along then.”

  They strolled down the thoroughfare as if they didn’t have a care in the world. And, as Arin had said, no one seemed to notice them.

  “Now you see our world as it truly is,” Arin said. “The innocent are sacrificed to the whims of wicked men. Even those who feign goodness are corrupt to the very center of their hearts. The people do not cry out with indignation or anger against evil. Now they join in, so long as it suits their own selfish ends.”

  “Is it really so hopeless?”

  “I’m afraid it is, son. Oh, you’ll find glimmers of what once was—a noble deed, a moment of self-sacrifice—but they are quickly snuffed out.”

  “I feel like an idiot!” Wade exclaimed. He still felt responsible for a lot of what had happened. “All I wanted to do was see the city,” he said, then went on to explain how he’d climbed the wall and been lured down by Movan and Simpson, taken to the elders, and then delivered to Tyran. He concluded by saying, “Tyran tricked me.”

  Arin stopped and turned to face him. “Did you not climb onto the wall after I had said to stay within the compound?” he challenged.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did I not warn you that everyone outside the compound was infected with evil?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then let’s be clear about this: If you were tricked, you allowed yourself to be tricked. Correct?”

  Wade hung his head and admitted, “I allowed myself to be tricked.”

  Arin gazed at him, but even under the shadow of his hood, Wade could see that his face wasn’t stern. He looked sad and said softly, “It’s the way of man—to be seduced to a place of power, a shelter of delusion. From there you can’t see things as they really are. You see things only as you want to see them. But the Unseen One takes us to a place of humility, a shelter of grace. It’s uncomfortable for us, mostly because we then see things as He sees them, which means we see them as they really are.”

  “You mean Tyran’s castle versus your compound?”

  “I mean your heart, Wade.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Arin nudged him to continue walking. “You will eventually.”

  As they approached the front gates of the compound, it was clear they couldn’t get in that way. A mob of wild-eyed men and women was attacking it with rocks, bottles, and anything else the people could get their hands on.

  “This way,” Arin instructed. Wade followed him down a side alley and around to a pathway that led into one of the abandoned warehouses Wade had seen before. Arin produced a key for the tall, riveted door. He opened it, and they went inside. The warehouse was empty except for a few pallets and boxes. Arin pushed his hood back from his head. Wade took the cue and undid his makeshift hat.

  They walked over to an elevator and got in, and Arin pressed the button to go down. Several floors below—Wade lost count of how many—the doors opened to a dimly lit corridor. Arin led the way, and after a few minutes they came to a long metal staircase that reached up into blackness. Wade stayed close behind Arin, clinging to the handrail, as they went up and still farther up. Lights seemed to turn on and off as they passed, always just enough to show them the way in front.

  Finally they reached another door, which Arin opened with a second key. They stepped through into the sunlight and beauty of Arin’s compound. Wade looked back and saw that the door was part of what appeared to be a small toolshed.

  “A secret tunnel,” Wade observed. “I heard that Tyran’s castle has one of these.”

  Arin replied with a slight smile, “All the best places have them.”

  Back in the house, where the noises of the mob became merely a background irritation, Wade was reunited with the rest of Arin’s family. Muiraq doted on him and gently chastised him for disappearing the way he had. Arin announced that there would be no discussion on that subject since they all had work to do.

  “The end is coming now,” he said simply.

  “Now?” Wade asked, shocked.

  “Within the next few days, yes.”

  “How do you know?”

  Arin waved his hand toward a set of newspapers scattered on the table. They were filled with headlines like “Epidemic Takes Over City!” “Health Authorities in Crisis!” and “Death Watch Begins: Illness Is Fatal for Some.”

  Wade read the headlines and thought again of his theory about the radiation. “I think I know what’s causing this,” he said. “Tyran has been working on bombs with the same kinds of ingredients we use in my world for the atomic bomb. They’re radioactive. Somehow he’s storing it in a place that’s reaching the people. That’s why they’re sick.”

  “An explanation isn’t necessary,” Arin said. “The judgment of the Unseen One has come.”

  “But it doesn’t have to! Not now!” Wade exclaimed. “Don’t you see? If we can find out where Tyran is storing the radioactive stuff, we can get rid of it and save everyone. He may have some of it at the castle. But I think most of it is . . .” Wade looked around. “Do you have a map?”

  “It’s no use, Wade,” Muiraq said, trying to calm the boy. “It’s time.”

  “Maybe it isn’t. Maybe you’re wrong,” Wade insisted. Riv handed him a map of Marus. Wade found Sarum, then found Hailsham. “Here. I heard Dr. Lyst say he has a laboratory in Hailsham where they developed the bomb they used on Liven’s house. It’s not very far away.” Wade’s eye scanned the area between Hailsham and Sarum. He found what he was looking for: a river that flowed between the two of them. “In which
direction does this river flow?”

  Riv looked at the map. “From Hailsham to Sarum,” he answered.

  Wade tapped the map with his finger and explained, “That’s probably it! I’ll bet the water has something radioactive in it, and that’s what’s making the people sick.”

  “Bet? This is a wager to you?” Arin said sternly. “You don’t understand, Wade. The judgment of the Unseen One is here. You can’t stop it no matter what you think is its source.”

  “But we can,” Wade insisted. “We can tell the people not to drink the water! We can go to Hailsham and find out where the radioactivity is coming from! There are lots of things we can do! We don’t have to give up!” He was shouting now.

  Arin and his family watched Wade quietly. Then Arin said in a gentle tone, “You feel responsible, and you want to do something to stop this.”

  Wade choked back tears. “Yes,” he answered simply.

  “And if I tell you it’s impossible, that there’s nothing you can do, you won’t believe me, will you?”

  Wade shrugged. “I don’t know what to believe.”

  Arin glanced at his wife, then sighed and announced to Wade, “I have brought you here for nothing. You weren’t ready to come.”

  Muiraq put her hand on Arin’s arm. “You’re not letting him go back out there?” she asked.

  “I can’t stop him. The Unseen One wouldn’t have me keep him here against his will.”

  Wade stammered, “I wasn’t thinking I should go out again. Can’t we call somebody? Tell the authorities?”

  “We could, but who would listen to us? Anyone connected to this compound is without a voice in the city.”

  “And I doubt that Tyran would listen—or allow anyone to interfere with his bomb making,” Oshan added.

  “Dr. Lyst would listen,” Wade said. “He’s in charge of the bombs. He would understand.”

  “Dr. Lyst is in Tyran’s pocket,” Pool said.

  “No,” Wade responded. “He doesn’t agree with everything Tyran’s doing. We could persuade him to take action.”