by Mike Essex
As we stepped out into the palace I heard a coughing sound and looked down to find Anya trying to catch her breath. She was very weak and still stuck in a Tether event which meant… “She’s alive. Alyx is alive down there. Jill keep the door open.”
“I’ll try for as long as I can,” she replied. “It’s not yet finished forming so here goes.”
“You can’t seriously be planning on going down there? You’ll drown,” said Tom.
“Listen Tom,” I replied. “A little girl is dying down there. I won’t leave her,” as I spoke the words I saw another person who had not left Alyx behind, slowly climbing up the stairs carrying her body. “Chris?”
His body was soaked and he walked weakly with her step by step. I ran towards them and through the door which faded in and out of existence. “Thank you. Thank you!” I cried. Chris handed Alyx to me and he propped himself up against the wall breathing heavily.
“Come on Chris, it’s not too far now,” I pulled at his arm urging him to come along with us but his weakened body resisted.
“You have to go,” Chris coughed severely. “There’s no time.”
The roar of water pushing up the stairs echoed his fears. “Emmie, I can’t hold the door much longer,” said Jill.
“Save the girl,” Chris pushed at me with what little energy he had left and moved me up the step. I couldn’t risk leaving her behind again so I dashed around and ran back to the door. I wanted to promise Chris I’d be back for him but I didn’t know if it was a promise I could keep.
“They’ve found me. I can’t hold it any mo…” the earpiece crackled and Jill’s voice was cut off. I charged through the door as it faded out of existence and slid to a stop on the floor of the Royal Palace.
“Open it! Jill? Open it!” I frantically shouted over the comms unit but there was no reply. Only the echoes of the soldiers’ commands surged through the earpiece now. “Find. Kill…”
We heard the water smash against the wall, trying to break through to the Royal Palace as it destroyed Chris’ body. Alyx started to wake up in my arms, and nearby Anya did the same, freed from the Tether event.
For a horrible moment we watched Alyx cough up water and it seemed like she may not survive. Determined not to lose her I performed CPR, fighting back the urge to beat at her chest with a panic, knowing that too much pressure would break her ribs.
As the last bit of water was forced from her lungs I wiped the tears from her eyes and held her close to me. “It’ll be ok now. We’ve got you,” I told her.
Her eyes opened and she looked back at me, disbelief all over her face. “I survived?” she asked weakly.
“A very brave man helped you. His name was Chris and he was a hero,” I told her.
“What is this?” she reached down into her pocket and retrieved a small glass vial, similar to the one I had retrieved for Olive. “Did the man give it to me when he saved me?”
“That’s medicine,” I explained as I realised what had happened. Chris had saved Alyx in more ways than one.
FORTY NINE
“Where did she get this?” I asked Tom in disbelief.
“It’s the medicine we found for Olive back at the Houses of Parliament,” he explained.
“That’s impossible. Jacobi showed me the medical case, it was empty,” I looked for Jacobi to see if he had deceived me but he was no longer in the room.
“That’s right,” said Tom. “We hid the vial when we were captured, in order to keep it safe. By the time we were freed from our cells you’d already saved Olive, so Chris kept hold of it in case she needed more treatment in the future.”
“But Chris got so angry when I confronted him about not getting the medicine,” I replied.
“That’s Chris for you. He didn’t like to be questioned and was angry you felt he hadn’t got the medicine. It devalued everything he’d done.”
Perhaps I had misunderstood Chris. Sure he was obsessed with the mission but perhaps beneath all that bravado he did have some compassion for others. Why else would he have saved Alyx or hidden the medicine? It was too late to make amends now; all I could do was try to remember him for his final actions.
Jacobi returned and he proceeded to check the medicine. “This’ll do it,” he confirmed. “I’ll take her somewhere to rest.”
“I’m coming with you,” I stated, and Grace did the same.
“Very well,” said Jacobi. “Everyone else, get your strength back. There’s a pantry two doors down the left corridor and a medical room up the stairs on the third right. I need you all at full strength.”
I walked with Jacobi for two floors up a grand staircase and held on tightly to Alyx. She was awake now, but was feeling the pain from her leg, and was very vocal about it. Alongside us Grace walked with Anya, holding her hand tightly.
The Royal Palace was beautifully decorated, with all of its fixtures and fittings returned to their original glory. Precious metals and gems complimented every surface, from the edges of murals on the ceiling to the railings on the stairs.
“This place is amazing,” I told Jacobi, thinking about my home town and the difficult days we had endured. As we walked up the stairs, a painting caught my eye with a familiar figure on it. I shrugged it off and continued to walk along, putting it down to a sense of déjà vu: it must have just been similar to the paintings I had seen back in Q-Whitehall.
My theory was confirmed by the next painting, which I had previously seen below the surface. It showed the royal family from 100 years prior to the Siege. The next painting showed the royal family 80 years before the Siege and they led up chronologically to the last recorded painting of the royals before they had evacuated the city.
The final painting however was one that I couldn’t stop staring at. In between the familiar faces of figures who adorned coins and bank notes, royal documents and documentaries, were two teenage boys whom I had never seen before. They took up a small area of the painting but were heavily detailed, their features well formed by the paint.
“Come along now,” said Jacobi and I looked back at him to apologise for the delay. As I looked back I saw the face of the boy from the painting, aged and worn by the years but unmistakably similar.
I pointed to the painting. “This is you isn’t it Jacobi? You’re a royal?”
FIFTY
“It’s a passing similarity,” said Jacobi, doing his best to downplay the similarity between him and the boy in the painting.
“It has to be you,” I explained. “And this was your brother?” I pointed to the other teenage boy. “What was his name?”
“Nonsense.”
“Then how did you know where the secret entrance was in the Palace? How did you find Q-Whitehall and get access in the first place? The royals must have given it to you?”
“Maybe I killed them? Did you ever think about that? I tortured them and took their family secrets,” his words sounded weak, like the thought of torturing his family scared him.
“You’re lying. This is you in the picture.”
“Over here,” said Grace who pointed to a large painting of two teenage boys at the top of the stairs. This time it was unmistakable, Jacobi was one of the boys in the picture. He was a royal.
“Bloody regeneration!” shouted Jacobi. “How many times do I have to destroy those paintings? Brilliant. Just brilliant.”
“So, are you a royal?” I asked.
Jacobi ripped the painting down from the wall and rammed his foot through it, tearing it in two. He did the same to the other painting and tossed them inside one of the rooms. “Whatever I was before, I am no more. I am a have-not just like you and my citizens.”
“But where are the other royals? Were they in Q-Whitehall?” I thought about how we’d never seen anyone down there that looked like Jacobi, not even his twin.
“What happened to your twin?”
“So many questions!” Jacobi sighed. “Well he’s safe. Heck if he wasn’t do you think you’d be stood here talking to me now?
What a stupid question.”
“So there are other royals out there? They’re still alive?”
“What does it matter? The time for royals is long gone. Nobody cares about that kind of stuff anymore. Real people make the difference,” in a way Jacobi was right. He’d achieved more in charge of Q-Whitehall than most modern royals had done in their entire legacy.
“There’s one thing I don’t get,” Grace interrupted. “Why did they leave you behind? Shouldn’t you be with the other royals?”
“Being left behind was the best thing that ever happened to me. Her majesty the Queen, left me underground in Q-Whitehall with nothing more than a few servants and soldiers to protect me. For months I hoped she would come back but she never did. They knew I was still alive, my brother’s survival would have told them that, but for whatever reason they left me down here to rot.”
“That’s awful,” replied Grace, knowing full well what it felt like to be abandoned and seek a new family.
“Sod em. So long as they keep my brother alive then I’m happy. The last thing I need is for him to pop his clogs before I’ve had chance to get this city back. In the royal family I had stuff handed to me simply because of my bloodline but here I have real power that I’ve earned. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Despite his royal blood, the Jacobi we knew was no prince. He was just a man trying to survive and protect those around him. Just like the rest of us. Perhaps our world needed more people like him and not more people in power?
He found Alyx a place to sleep and gave her the medicine that Chris had saved. We placed Anya on a bed next to her and kissed both of them lightly on the head.
“We’ve got a couple of medics left alive, so the girls will be well taken care of,” said Jacobi. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, but if you tell anyone my secret you are on your own. I can trust you I presume?”
“Yes your majesty,” I replied, knowing I’d tell R&R at the first opportunity I got. As for telling his citizens his secret was safe with me.
“Good,” replied Jacobi. “Well come on, we’ve got work to do.”
He led us back down the stairs and called on two of his medics to take care of the girls, along with strict instructions to not check any of the other rooms. He was very explicit about that part.
Along the way we met up with the remaining citizens and Jacobi called on those who were able to fight to come with us. Everyone followed behind us, even those with injuries. No one wanted to disappoint Jacobi and everyone wanted to get revenge for the attack on their home.
He led us to a door marked ‘security’ and entered a memorised set of numbers into an access panel. Despite the regeneration the soldiers had not changed the code and we gained entry to the room. Inside we found a fully stocked armoury complete with lots of security monitors lining one wall.
“Hallelujah!” said Jacobi. “They regenerated all of the weapons. There are even a few new ones.”
The other walls of the armoury were stocked with more weaponry than I had ever seen. Pistols, machine guns, sniper rifles and explosives filled every available recess in ceiling high shelving. On another wall a long table ran the length of the room with knives and explosives positioned next to each other, slotted into holes.
“And there’s a closet!” said Grace, pulling open two doors at the end of the room to find row upon row of bulletproof body armour, helmets and riot shields. “There’s a bit too much navy blue but it’ll do.”
Despite the temptation to frantically grab the best weapons, everyone waited patiently to see what Jacobi would do, and which weapon he would choose. He ran his palm across each of the weapons biding his time and making a show of it. “Decisions, decisions. What do you all think?”
The citizens shouted out different types of weaponry, machine guns being by far the most popular choice. Jacobi picked up a small pistol much to the disappointment of the crowd and fitted it with a silencer.
He held it up towards the sky and spoke to the crowd. “Unlike our opponents we are not animals. We are quiet, we are graceful, we are in control and our weapons will show that.”
He picked up a machine gun with his other free hand. “This weapon is chaotic and lacks purpose; only an ogre would use it. We will attack our enemy with silence and control, to take the upper hand. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir,” said the crowd.
“Good,” replied Jacobi. “Silenced pistols and knives are your friends, grenades for absolute emergencies. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” they repeated.
Jacobi picked up two sniper rifles and handed them out. “You two are the best shots we’ve got. Cover us well.”
We worked our way through the crowd and picked up a pistol, knife and a selection of grenades each. Grace ran her hands over a large explosive weapon and muttered “Maybe another time.”
I walked to the closet and reached out for a bulletproof jacket, placing my hand on top of another which reached it before my own. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled to the owner of the hand and he did the same. We looked at each other and I saw Rex looking back at me.
He stood there with a pistol at his side and a knife attached to his belt. He was ready for war.
“What have I done to you?” I hugged him close to me, knowing there was no way I could stop him from fighting this battle. “Stay safe. Ok?”
“I was just going to say the same to you,” he lent forward and kissed me on my cheek.
“Any words for the troops?” asked Jacobi. Some of the crowd heard his suggestion and turned to face me. Before I knew what was happening people started spreading the message on and more faces turned around to watch. Someone pushed Grace to the front with me and started chanting “King of Clubs” over and over.
I faced the crowd and tried to think of something inspirational to say. My eyes scanned their faces looking for Rex, hoping he would calm me down enough to speak but the words didn’t come. The only word spoken was “Duck!” as Grace dived on top of me and a gunshot echoed around the room.
FIFTY ONE
“She did this!” shouted one of the citizens, whilst others held her face to the floor and started handcuffing her. “She bought the soldier back to our base. She killed everyone!”
Panic ran through my body and I felt the fire starting to burn inside of me; the monster within preparing me to attack. “No, no, no,” I repeated in my mind. “You can stop this.”
The crowd were screaming now, guns pointed at each other, and no one quite sure who could be trusted now they had turned on each other. Their shouting echoed loudly throughout the small room, fifty people at breaking point in a room filled with weapons and explosives. A few stray gunshots and we’d all die here and now.
Jacobi tried to remain in control but he had no idea where to aim his weapon or who was the enemy. Some people called for my death as a traitor, others saw me as a hero for saving the girls. Yet no one knew the real monster I was becoming. Perhaps they should just kill me.
Grace asked me if I was ok and I shook my head. She placed a hand on my face and quickly pulled it away, her skin turning red from the heat. “Emmie, you have to control this,” she whispered to me. “There are a lot of innocent people here.”
“Your friends and family, all killed by this bitch,” the handcuffed woman continued to stir up a fury, now on her feet with no one to hold her down anymore. “It was all a setup! She appeared out of nowhere and then days later we were attacked. She did this!”
“I trust her,” said Jacobi, trying desperately to get his citizens to cooperate. “If not for her, you would have all been trapped down there.”
“If not for her, we never would have been attacked,” said one of the citizens.
“Nonsense. We all knew that day would come. We couldn’t hide away forever.”
They continued to argue, tensions high, and I closed my eyes repeating to myself that I needed to stay calm and that it would all work out. Grace whispered words of encouragement to me,
doing the best she could to stem the flow of thoughts that entered my mind.
My mind became filled with more than just the voices of those around me. I could feel their senses being connected to my own, smell what they smelt, and hear what they heard. There was nothing I could tell myself that was powerful enough to make it stop.
The heat surged around me, pockets of warmth igniting my body. My vision started to flash between the citizens, darting between them in an effort to find a new host for me to occupy whilst the killings happened. I begged with my mind for it to stop, for Tobias or whoever was doing this to me, to switch the heat off before everyone was killed.
When my vision settled I looked down at the body that had been chosen for me and from the clothing knew that it was Rex. To my left stood Rufus, trying to calm down the crowd and get people to stop their fighting. Grace continued to huddle over my now lifeless body, desperately trying to impart the words that would stop everything.
“Stop!” shouted Jacobi and his voice echoed across the crowd. “Look at what you are doing to this girl,” he pointed to my body which was curled up into a ball, barely moving. “You have sacred her half to death. Does she really look like a killer? A traitor?”
The crowd stopped their fighting to listen but continued to aim their weapons at each other, trust not fully restored. “Is this how we treat new members of our society?” Jacobi continued. “Is this what we have become? We are not the same as the soldiers outside of this wall. We are a family, a new society and I will not tolerate this in my house.”
The cruel woman who had shot at me was escorted from the room by one of the citizens. What happened to her still remains a mystery to me even to this day.
“Now lower your weapons,” the crowd continued to aim at each other, despite Jacobi’s demands. “Lower them!” boomed Jacobi, and slowly they started to point their weapons towards the floor. “If any of you have a problem with this girl then you speak to me first.”