Tethered Twins Saga: Complete Trilogy (Twins, Souls and Hearts)

by Mike Essex

  “He is the would be king,” said Jacobi.

  “Don’t be foolish. We treated you equally. You were both given a place to call home and servants to help you get established. No more, no less,” said George.

  “Why?”

  “You saw the way people treated us after the Siege. We were seen as villains, unfit to look after this country. People felt like we’d lost touch with the public and without that it was futile to have royals anymore.”

  “You could have stuck it out,” said Jacobi.

  “You forget that we’re a business son; one big worldwide freak show. We live on the funding from public perception and at that time we were a PR nightmare.”

  “So you ran away like a shunned celebrity! You make me sick.”

  “The public didn’t need us and we didn’t want to burden them with taxes to keep up our lavish lifestyle. We chose to live in filth to help this country. You can make of that what you will.”

  Jacobi looked furious. Although George’s words seemed delicately chosen they were not landing with the softness he intended. Just seeing his father again was enough to set Jacobi off.

  “You want to know what I make of that?” scoffed Jacobi. “I think you’re a coward and a failure as a parent. You abandoned me and no amount of PR bullshit will explain it away. I want to see Jamie and then get out of here.”

  “Very well,” said George. “But first there is something I must give you.”

  “I want nothing from you,” said Jacobi.

  “Oh, you will want this,” he reached in between the rags that rested over his body and retrieved an ivory coloured envelope. George tossed it into the air. Jacobi made no effort to catch it. The letter hit his chest then fell to the floor.

  I looked down at the envelope, adorned with a royal seal in wax. The letter looked incredibly important. I picked it up and offered it to Jacobi.

  “That letter is what you came here for,” said George.

  Jacobi snatched it from my hand and tore it open. He tossed the envelope and seal to the floor and started reading. Angrily, he handed the letter back to me and I read through the pages. The writing was complex and used many terms I didn’t understand but there was one thing that stood out clearly, words that could change everything.

  At the bottom of the letter were three sets of signatures from the Queen, Jamie and George with two gaps for a witness and Jacobi to sign.

  With those last two signatures Jacobi could become the king he was always meant to be.

  FORTY SIX

  “Is this some kind of joke?” asked Jacobi.

  “No joke,” said George. “It’s what we felt was best.”

  “Jamie should be king. It is his birth right,” said Jacobi.

  “That may be so but he has abdicated the throne. It is your responsibility now.”

  “Why would he do such a thing? All my brother ever talked about was becoming king and how I’d end up becoming his servant.”

  “That was a long time ago, Jacobi. He tried to lead these people and he failed. In the end I had to live here and take charge in order to keep the peace. Your brother failed.”

  “What makes me worthy?”

  “By your eighteenth birthday we had already seen your potential. That’s why your mother and I asked you to meet us here. We wanted to make you a king back then but we are very glad you waited.”

  “Why?”

  “You built a community and helped them rise up to take back the city that was stolen from them. Even when that was done you didn’t rest; you gave them jobs and a place to call home. You are the true successor to the throne,” said George.

  “So this was all just a test for me to prove I was royal enough?” asked Jacobi.

  “Calling it a ‘test’ is insulting to your abilities, son. We didn’t know the challenges you’d face and we didn’t orchestrate anything that happened. We simply watched you both. You proved yourself as the superior leader. You are the true future king.”

  “He’s right Jacobi,” said Rex. “Without you I couldn’t have coped when Emmie was taken from me. You gave me a purpose again.”

  “And what about you Blondie?” said Jacobi.

  “You know I didn’t always agree with your decisions,” I said. “But they were tough decisions to make and in the end you made the right call.”

  “Let me show you something,” said George.

  George explained to the guards outside the room that we were not a threat and they released us from our shackles; also returning the backpack containing our weapons and comms units. We walked with George through the base to the dome shaped living area where a few citizens remained with tankards of beer.

  “You see that drunk over there?” said George, pointing to a dishevelled man surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol.

  From the look on his face I knew Jacobi had seen Jamie.

  “Does that look like a man who wants to be king?” asked George.

  “What did you do to him?” exclaimed Jacobi.

  “Nothing we didn’t do to you. He couldn’t cope with the pressures of leading his people. How do you think he’d handle an entire country?” said George.

  Jacobi stared intently at his brother, resting his chin on his hands.

  “The time is right for you to lead our return, now that Eli has gone,” said George.

  “Are you the one that killed Eli?” I asked.

  “No, fate took care of that for us. But I am thankful that interfering PM is gone. He managed to find out far too much about our operations down here. He even threatened to destroy us if we ever tried to return to the surface,” said George.

  I didn’t completely believe George, he had far too much to gain by getting rid of Eli. I still had my suspicions about him.

  “He signed the paperwork to give you control,” George put his hand on Jacobi’s shoulder and placed the contract in front of his face. “Isn’t that enough proof of what he wanted?”

  Jacobi stared intently at the paperwork and then snatched it from George. He gripped it tightly with both hands one at either end. Letting out a frustrated gasp, he folded the contract up and stuffed it inside his jacket.

  “I’m doing this to protect the country, not for you or because of some foolish PR stunt you wanted to orchestrate, is that clear father?” said Jacobi, pointing a finger in George’s face.

  “That’s the spirit. You’ll need that fire in your belly if you want to lead this country,” said George.

  “Don’t tell Jamie I was here,” said Jacobi.

  “Don’t worry about that, I’m coming with you. We have a coronation to plan,” said George.

  George arranged for our train to be ready and our group headed back to the platform together. If Jacobi could be crowned king shortly after we arrived back then we’d still have enough time to meet the terrorist’s demands.

  I had no idea if the terrorists would be happy meeting with a newly crowned king but right now it was the only plan we had left. We spoke with Jill and she confirmed that no other British politicians had stepped forward to meet their demands. They claimed they didn’t negotiate with terrorists, when really they were probably just too terrified.

  Jacobi on the other hand seemed the natural choice to face them head on. Knowing he was the one that would be crowned king, rather than some unknown brother, was an unexpected bonus from our trip.

  He’d be a tough leader but also one that could make the right call in a crisis. That was something Eli had never understood. He had wanted to do the right thing for every single person, something that took away their freedom and punished those he didn’t see as worthy.

  Worst of all, Eli had thought that he was right in every decision he made and those choices had gone unquestioned. For too long he’d been given free rein to shape the country however he wished, knowing that he could change course to correct every bad decision simply by influencing the right people. With him gone, Jacobi would have no such advantage. His choices would have weight and real impact.


  “Don’t you want to say goodbye to your brother?” I asked Jacobi as we reached the train.

  He didn’t reply. In a way I think he felt his brother had failed. Perhaps Jacobi felt that becoming king was just an unexpected burden thrust upon him. I’ll never know the way he really felt in that moment, only that we didn’t go back for Jamie and Jacobi didn’t so much as glance back towards P-Holyrood as we left the station.

  Jacobi and George went into one of the rooms on the train and asked us not to follow. They locked the door behind them and left me and Rex in the other room.

  “That’s that then,” said Rex.

  “Do you think he’ll make a good king?” I asked.

  “He’s a good man. I owe him a lot.”

  I rested the back of my head on Rex’s lap and stared up at the beautiful paintings that ran across the roof of the train. Whilst Rex slowly stroked my hair I closed my eyes and thought about how far we’d come.

  My mind quickly turned to Corinna and Cleon, without whom none of this would have been possible. They’d given me a body so that I could get back to my own and in return Corinna had lost someone she loved.

  Although I could never make it up to them I hoped that Jacobi would be the leader they’d wanted. All they had asked of me was that I capture Eli so they could restore order to the world. I hoped that his death would achieve the same results and that Jacobi could bring about the order this country so badly needed.

  As for Corinna I hoped she could find someone that loved her as much as the snatcher had. I’d seen how much Tobias had changed during his time in my mind and I was prepared to believe that perhaps the snatcher had done the same with the guidance of Corinna.

  My last thoughts before falling to sleep were of Tom and Chris being reunited in some other world, the officer finally proud enough of his soldier to move on from his mission.

  FORTY SEVEN

  George sure knew how to organise an event.

  The world’s media had descended on London, turning their cameras away from the devastation of the previous day’s attacks to focus on the celebration of a new day. Although Rex and I couldn’t attend the ceremony, we waited outside watching the media outdoing each other to try and get a good shot of the great entranceway to Westminster Abbey.

  Although London was still reeling from the effects of the attacks, we saw many foreign royals brave enough to enter the halls. There were princes and princesses, dukes and duchesses, many of whom hadn’t been seen in public for over twenty five years. Whatever George had said to them they were prepared to risk a lot to see Jacobi crowned king.

  The streets outside were lined with members of the public desperate to catch a glimpse of their new king. Whilst some held up hastily put together banners with words of congratulations, others had filled their banners with words of hate.

  Unlike the more traditional coronations of old, this was not one filled with joy. News of Eli’s death had quickly spread and the public were not happy to lose the most beloved Prime Minister of all time. Much of the media said it was too soon for a new royal but nobody could disagree with the fact that this country needed a leader right now and no-one else was prepared to step-up.

  QWS and the British military watched over the crowds, now working together to ensure their new leader was properly protected. It appeared to be an uneasy alliance, with scores from the day before not completely settled but the military leaders knew that they would soon work for Jacobi. They needed to follow his wishes, despite any vendettas they may have had over Eli’s death.

  When the royals had all taken their seats in the Abbey the sound of our national anthem blazed out from speakers placed all along the main road. People in different uniforms lined the sides of the roads; the sailors, pilots, soldiers and guards of this country gathering to ensure the safe journey of their new king. They gave a salute in unison.

  The crowd started to turn, the happy members of the public hastily pushed out of the way so that those with a vendetta could get closer to the barriers. As they caught sight of Jacobi’s convoy their numbers started to swell. They pushed towards the barriers, charging against them to break in an attempt to break through.

  Jacobi’s vehicle made a slow journey down the road whilst the world’s cameras were focused on him. A row of horses and riders led the way in front of them. George was clearly milking the event for as much positive PR as he could handle.

  The crowds pushed on and there was nothing Rex or I could do to stop their flowing tides. The uniformed individuals at the sides of the road dropped their salutes, turning away from the ongoing procession and towards the crowd. Some of them held the barriers up to stop them toppling whilst the others batted away the hands of the crowd.

  A mob was starting to form, the crowd turning uglier with each passing second. Members of QWS made their way over to the barriers to help. They reached for their weapons, whilst the comms units in their ears lit up a green colour.

  “I should be down there helping,” said Rex.

  “You’ve no uniform,” I told him but it was too late, he was already gone.

  I followed him through the jabbing elbows and stomping feet of the crowd. They had turned on each other now, fighting and arguing, taking out their aggression in destructive ways. The individuals who had come here in celebration were now doing all they could just to get out of the melee.

  Rex reached the barrier and was held back by a soldier in ceremonial uniform.

  “I can help,” he shouted.

  I reached Rex and begged him to stand down. There was no way the soldiers would let him past, he was going to get himself killed.

  “What are they doing?” exclaimed Rex.

  I looked at the QWS soldiers who had started to form a salute once again. Then they started to walk towards the convoy, ignoring the chaos of the crowds.

  “It’s George,” said Rex. “He must have told them not to use force.”

  Rex wasn’t prepared to see innocent people injured just so George could save face. He reached down for his gun.

  “Don’t do it!” I told him.

  He fired his weapon into the air and the crowd around him scattered. By the time he’d emptied his gun, the soldiers had jumped over the fence and tackled him to the floor. I urged him to stop but he just gave me a wink in return.

  Faced with the gunshots, the QWS soldiers had no option but to use their own weapons and aim them towards the crowds. The crowd backed away, stunned at the sight of the weaponry. The horses in front of Jacobi’s car moved to the side of the road and his car sped up towards Westminster Abbey.

  Rex was dragged away in handcuffs by the British military. QWS might have let him go but I had no idea what the military would do, especially those who remembered his role in Eli’s death. I tried to follow him but the soldiers pushed me back. I screamed out his name.

  I kicked and screamed until he disappeared from my view. Desperate to get to him I tried to work my way sideways through the crowd but they had seen through the threat of the guns and were pushing back every bit as much.

  One of the mob pushed me to the floor and I felt the weight of countless feet charging forward. Their bodies consumed me, until I was part of their collective mass, swept along with the crowd.

  I could hear the clattering sound of barriers falling to the floor, followed by the screeching of tyres. The mob had broken through. Gunshots were fired.

  London wasn’t ready to be led. They wanted Eli. They wanted to be controlled.

  FORTY EIGHT

  “We are coming to you live from Westminster Abbey,” announced a reporter over the nearby tannoy. “Chaos has erupted today prior to the coronation of the new king. What should have been a celebratory day will now forever be one marked with disaster.”

  I felt a set of hands on each shoulder dragging me up from the floor.

  “We can confirm that George and Jacobi Gillby have made it safely into the abbey. Proceedings are now underway despite intense pressure from the crow
ds outside who are currently being held back by armed soldiers. How long the stand-off will remain is anyone’s guess,” the reporter continued.

  In the sea of arms and legs I saw one thing very clearly, a golden mask staring towards me.

  “In a rather unorthodox change to proceedings the previous king is now explaining why the royals have returned. Interestingly it seems like they haven’t been keeping themselves in luxury as many suspected. We’ll be back to the story as it develops,” explained the reporter.

  As I stood up tall the crowd pushed my body to one side, surging through the opening in the barriers. My view of the masked figure shifted, blurring and distorting them so they looked like separate people. By the time I had rotated back round they were gone.

  I used my elbows to fight through the crowd in the direction I’d seen them, looking high and low in case they’d slipped through underneath the mob. They were nowhere to be seen.

  I looked around and was stunned to see Rex’s face on the CCTV screens that surrounded the abbey. A montage of footage showed Jacobi’s time in Q-Whitehall including all of the people he had helped including myself, Rex, Grace, Alyx, Anya and his countless other citizens. It showed him saving people during the flood, fighting soldiers in the fires and leading his citizens to take back London. It seemed George had closely monitored his son’s actions.

  Much of the mob was too absorbed in their own rioting to notice the footage, but those that did looked on in awe. The footage showed a leader that was actually prepared to lead from the front and not just with words but with action.

  The media ate up the footage, like a dog receiving an unexpected treat they didn’t deserve. First the riots and now this footage, today had been turned into a media event they never could have predicted. For weeks they would have topics to dissect and discuss, polls to run and public opinion to examine.

  “Wow,” said the reporter as the footage ended. “We certainly didn’t expect that. Not since Winston Churchill has a leader been so prepared to fight for our country. A fascinating development, I’m sure you at home will all agree.”