“It’s a lot to take in,” said Mee. She reached forward and held Kate’s hands. “I’m so sorry about Diane, Lo and the others who helped us in Las Vegas. They were good to us.”
Kate nodded. Her skin was so dark that, as the evening had gone on, her features had blurred into the shadows around her. The only light came from a candle behind Mee, and it reflected the two lines on Kate’s face where she hadn’t wiped away her silent tears.
“I spent nearly a year with Diane,” she said, finally. “She was a brave and holy woman. Holy in its original sense—whole, genuine, grounded. We chose slightly different paths, but we had much in common.”
“Different paths?” said Meera. “I thought the Order hadn’t split the way most religions seem to.”
“I wish that were true,” said Kate. “Unfortunately, any group of humans, however noble its intentions, seems—inevitably—to find reasons to splinter into new factions. The Order doesn’t have as many sects as Christianity or Buddhism. Partly because the Order isn’t really a religion. No book, no rules other than the golden rule—to treat others as you would wish to be treated. Just daily practice and a supportive community. But we’ve been around for nearly two millennia, and people often struggle with the apparent austerity of what we offer. The lack of religious trappings is attractive at first, but after a while, many start to yearn for them. It does no harm, so some branches of the Order look a little more like traditional religion. They use elements of ritual in group meditation, dress up on occasion, have a hierarchy with someone a little like a minister in charge. Diane’s group was like that. They kept their practice simple, but Diane was very much the senior figure. You know the three words, don’t you?”
Mee was confused for a moment, then remembered the words spelled out by stones in the garden of the Las Vegas Order.
“Yes,” she said. “In Greek: Learn, teach, wait.”
Kate smiled. “Right. Diane firmly believed that our founder was referring to a messiah figure with that final word. He or she would come along and show us our destiny, the goal of our organization. They weren’t alone in thinking Seb was about to change everything.”
“You didn’t feel the same way?” said Mee.
“No,” said Kate. She looked at Meera. “You don’t want to hear this,” she said. “We should be talking about what I can do to help.”
Meera sighed and shook her head.
“You’re helping already,” she said. “There’s nothing you can do about Seb right now. But you can be here with me and stop me from going crazy wondering what’s happening to him. When he came back before, he said he’d been speaking to an alien, but it sounded more like he’d dropped acid and had a bad trip. Whatever it was, he had no idea he’d been away for longer than a few minutes, and he wasn’t in control when he left—he wasn’t Walking.”
“Walking?” said Kate.
“With a capital ‘W’,” said Meera. “It’s how he can get from one side of the planet to the other. It’s instantaneous. Something to do with moving through the multiverse. Please don’t ask. It was explained to me with pictures and my head still hurts.”
“His use of Manna is like nothing I’ve ever heard of,” said Kate, quietly. “Such power in one individual. It’s no wonder most of the Order thought he was here to change the world. But you’re more concerned about him than you are about yourself.”
Meera laughed.
“I know. It’s funny. He’s been shot so many times I’ve lost count, burnt to a crisp at least once. He can take care of himself. But I still worry about him. I can’t help it. I’m with you, by the way. I don’t want him to be the messiah, I just want him to be my boyfriend. At heart, I’m a selfish numpty.”
Mee swallowed hard. Kate—wondering what on Earth a numpty was—took the younger woman’s hand.
“He came back before,” she said, “he’ll come back this time.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Meera. “He’d bloody better.”
Mee insisted she felt better just listening, so Kate told her about the Order’s dramatic drop in numbers after Seb had ‘died’. Across the world, the majority of the Order’s members had believed Seb’s arrival meant their founder’s words were about to be made relevant to the entire planet. Seb would bring Manna use out of the shadows, would show that it was a force for good, not evil, and the Order would teach the world how to Use in such a way that the self was put aside in favor of community. The world would enter a new era of cooperation and peace. When Seb was lost to them, thousands of men and women left the Order. Their belief system had been so reliant on Seb, it had shattered dramatically when his role had been abruptly removed.
Kate herself had once been part of a group whose numbers generally stayed between twenty and thirty people. They had all drifted away after the news that Seb had been killed by Mason. Kate had stayed, kept the building running, had carried on with her daily practice. Eventually, Meera/Stephanie had shown up asking to learn.
“I was surprised when you came,” said Kate. “I feel as if the Order is finally finished as a global community, so I didn’t expect anyone to seek me out.”
“Finished? Why?”
“We’ve kept our use of Manna hidden over the centuries because of the way it has been abused by others—Mason and his ilk. But our hope was always to come out into the open and share our knowledge with the world. When the time was right. When history, spiritual growth and evolution finally rid us of people like Mason. When humanity had finally reached the point that no one needed to use power to exert control over others. That was our interpretation of the third word: ‘wait’. But the predominant belief in a messiah meant that most of us thought he would bring about the right conditions for the next stage of the human race. When he fell, the Order began to crumble. I was about to leave when you showed up, go back to Innisfarne.”
“Go back to where?”
“It’s a small island off the coast of Northumbria. In Great Britain.”
“I know where Northumbria is,” said Mee. “My family may not have got out of London much when I was growing up, but we did own a map. You’re not from there originally, though?”
“No,” said Kate. “I come from Trinidad. But I moved to Britain in the 1960s. I had met someone in the Order and she had spoken of Innisfarne and of Martha, the woman who had founded a community there. I hitchhiked, walked about sixty miles, sleeping in fields or barns, then a fishing boat gave me a ride for the final few miles. What I found there changed my life forever. And I’ve been going back ever since.”
“What makes it so special?”
Kate smiled.
“You’d have to go there, really. It’s hard to explain. The size of the community varies. Sometimes there would only be a dozen of us, other times nearly two hundred. There are a few large buildings on the west side of the island, used for accommodation, a dining hall and a meditation hall. The rest of Innisfarne is quite barren, wild, and beautiful. The life is simple. We meditate together for an hour at 6am and an hour at 6pm. We don’t use Manna to feed ourselves, we grow vegetables and cook them just as anyone else would.
“Innisfarne is small, but there is always the opportunity for solitude. Apart from coming together for meals and meditation, members of the Order spend most of their time alone, in silence.”
Mee thought of her Aunt Anita, a nun who had chosen a similar life. The thought of deliberately seeking silence, day after day seemed frightening to Mee, although she had to admit, there was a tiny part of her that craved it.
“Martha encourages people to do as she does—spend six months to a year on Innisfarne, then go out into the world, travel, meet people, witness what is happening. Come back when you’re ready. Stay another half year, then go out again. I’ve done exactly that for more than forty years now, and each cycle is different Each time I return I am different, yet the community is the same, the peace, the acceptance, the sense of timelessness underneath the unstoppable flow of time…”
There was a l
ong pause. Meera didn’t want to break the silence, but she found her thoughts going back to Seb.
“What’s Martha’s story?”
“Oh, no one knows who Martha is.”
“What?” said Mee. “How?”
“It’s a title, really,” said Kate. “I had been visiting for eight years when the woman I had known as Martha introduced herself as Sarah. And another woman was calling herself Martha, organizing and inspiring the community in exactly the way Sarah once had. Three years later, Martha was another woman. I was Martha for five years. It meant no one ever got attached to a leadership position. All were followers.”
“And what did the men think about it?”
“Oh, there were male Marthas too. Gender had nothing to do with it.”
“Male Marthas?” said Mee. “I think that would take some getting used to.”
Kate laughed. “You’d be surprised how quickly you forget about it. Anyway, it works. The community is always there, and for those of us who were drawn to it, it has become home. No messiahs, no goals, just the rhythm of the seasons and Being itself.”
“You make it sound perfect,” said Mee.
“No such thing,” said Kate. “ But it will still be there long after we are gone, I believe. The rest of the Order is in decline. Perhaps, in time, our numbers will grow again, but it will be based on the reality offered by Innisfarne and other communities, not reliant on a future day of reckoning when some god-like force will transform the world.”
“Well, I know Seb will be glad to hear that,” said Mee. “Wait.” She screwed the top back onto the tequila bottle and eyed the older woman for a moment. “And anyone can go there?”
“Yes,” said Kate. “You said you wanted my help. You know Seb can take care of himself. It’s you who is vulnerable when he disappears this way. Come to Innisfarne with me. Until Seb finds out what’s really going on.”
Mee stood up and paced the small room while Kate sat silently, her hands folded on her lap.
“I can’t think of anywhere you’d be safer,” said Kate. “I’ll go ahead, tell them a young woman will be joining the community for a while. It’s not the kind of place where people ask questions. There’s no internet, no telephones, very little contact with the mainland. You won’t be found there—and Seb will know you’re safe.”
“Bugger it,” said Mee, finally. “I’ve lied to you all this time and you come back with nothing but kindness. And when you make a suggestion, I don’t want to hear it. I know you’re right. And you know I know you’re right.” She looked at Kate. “And you’re not smug, which annoys me.”
Kate said nothing. Meera paced some more.
“Going with you feels like running away,” said Mee, “and I never run away.” She looked out at the lights of the city spreading out like a blanket and climbing the hill opposite. “But—as much as I hate the idea—while I’m here without Seb, I can’t protect myself. If they find me, I’ll have some warning. When they get close. I’ll sense it—Manna has given me that gift. But if they’re close enough for me to sense and they’re Mason’s people, it’ll probably be too late.”
Kate looked at her and let her complete her reasoning.
“So, like I said, you’re right. While I’m here without him, I’m vulnerable, Seb is vulnerable. Mason only ever wanted me as leverage—to get to Seb. It nearly worked. I won’t let it happen again. When Seb comes back, I’ll tell him.”
Kate nodded.
“I’ll go tomorrow. When you come, take the train up from London. Pay cash. Get a bus to the coast. To Logos Bay. There’s a fishing boat, name of Penelope, you’ll find her there at 5:30 every morning.”
“Christ on a stick,” said Mee, “what is it with religions and unsociable hours?”
Kate continued with her strategy of saying nothing and letting Meera do the work.
“Ok, you go,” said Mee. “I’ll follow once I’ve spoken to Seb. Just don’t be freaked out when he suddenly appears on your island to see me.”
“You going to be ok? Want me to wait and travel with you?”
Mee smiled at her and shook her head. “Nah. If Mason’s been looking for me for the last eighteen months without any joy, how likely is it he’ll get lucky in the next week or so?”
24
London
Walt stared at Seb. There was no doubt. The man he had seen killed was now sitting in his London hotel room, smiling at him, looking for all the world as if he’d just dropped in for a friendly chat.
Walt fell into the other chair, opened the minibar and took out two miniature bottles of whisky, filling a glass and draining it in under five seconds.
“Sorry about burning your body,” he said. “You’d just had your head cut off, so you wouldn’t have felt it. And it meant Meera went free. But, for what it’s worth, I am sorry. And I’m sorry about Bob. I didn’t know Westlake was going to murder your friend, I didn’t realize he was going to slaughter the Order back there in Vegas, I just—,”
Seb held up a hand and Walt fell silent.
“No need to explain anything,” said Seb. “And no need to apologize. It might make you feel a bit better, but it’s not going to bring anyone back. Besides, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know you’d changed. I know you’ve run. I know you’re trying to make amends. I know you want to warn Meera.”
Walt reached back into the minibar. There was no more whisky. He tried mixing gin and vodka. The resulting cocktail wouldn’t win any prizes, but it burned his throat and made his eyes sting, so he was satisfied.
“It was a homunculus?” he said. “That’s what Westlake killed?”
“Yes,” said Seb.
Walt thought back to that morning. Remembered the way the man they had thought was Seb Varden moved, spoke and reacted like a human being. The difference between his power and Seb’s was like comparing a Buster Keaton movie to the latest sci-fi epic.
“Ok,” he said, “ok.” He had half-guessed Seb was alive, so it could only have been a homunculus he’d seen die that day, but knowing that fact didn’t stop his mind from reeling at the ability Seb had displayed.
“How did you find me?” he said.
“I’ve been with you since we last met in Las Vegas,” said Seb. “I didn’t go anywhere. And, for the sake of accuracy, you should stop calling me Seb.”
“What?” said Walt. “Why?”
“I’m just a program,” said Seb. “An app. A sub-routine. A virus—that might be the closest analogy. Seb2 transferred me to you back in Vegas. I’ve been dormant ever since, a tiny coil of genetic material at the top of your spine.”
Walt shivered. “Seb2?” he said.
“Too long a story.”
“I’ve been carrying you around?” said Walt. “You’ve seen everything I’ve seen, heard my thoughts? All my thoughts?”
“Relax,” said Seb, “I haven’t been spying on you. Like I said, I was dormant. It took a combination of triggers to activate me. And here I am.”
“Triggers?” said Walt.
“Yeah. First trigger, you had to leave Mason, go on the lam. You’ve always chosen the easy way, the path of least resistance. But Seb thought you could change. Some might call it naivety, but since you’ve proved his hunch right, maybe not.”
“You said there was more than one trigger,” said Walt. He leaned over to the minibar, unscrewed a small white wine and started drinking it out of the bottle.
“I’d slow down, if I were you,” said Seb. “It’s not as if you’re going to be able to use Manna to get rid of the hangover.”
“The second trigger?” said Walt.
“Right,” said Seb. “You’ve actually gone cold turkey. Given up Manna. Even under duress, when you had the chance for one last fix. You know you’re gonna get sick, age and die just like regular folk, but you’ve done it anyway. Kudos.”
Walt stopped drinking. Seb was probably right about the hangover.
“You don’t talk like Seb did,” he said, replacing the wine with a
bottle of water, pouring it into a glass. He caught sight of the minibar prices. Central London hotel prices. Might be time to cash in another $10,000 of bearer bonds.
“Yeah—I don’t have his memories, just a kind of cut-down, abridged version,” said Seb. “I’m the same person, but without the unnecessary baggage. I can use Manna, but I’m far more limited. More like you were.”
He pointed and the sheets on the bed reared up like a terrified horse, its head brushing against the light fitting on the ceiling. When he dropped his finger, the sheets fell back in an untidy heap.
“Well, I don’t use Manna, as such,” he said. “I’m made of the stuff.”
“Made of it?” said Walt. “What do you mean?”
“Like I said, I’m like a virus. But I do have a physical presence, it’s just sub-atomic. A few molecules of your body is roomy enough for me to stretch my legs around in. If I need more room—like I did just now, so I could get your attention—I can just expand, grow. I’m a lump about the size of a California raisin on your brainstem right now.”
Walt’s hand went involuntarily to the back of his head.
“It won’t do any damage,” said Seb. “It just means I can access your aural and visual centers. Much easier to communicate with you if you think you’re seeing and hearing me.”
“You mean, I’m not hearing or seeing you for real?” said Walt.
“Put it this way. If the hotel maid is standing outside your room, she’ll think the poor old American guy in 114 has lost the plot. She’ll hear you, but only you can hear me. Let’s hope she’s not listening, otherwise you’ll be getting a visit from a very sympathetic doctor soon.”
“Maybe I am losing my mind,” said Walt. He suddenly threw the contents of his glass over the other man. Seb remained completely dry, but he stood up and showed Walt the stain on the chair.
“Maybe,” said Seb. He sat down again. “You wanted to help Meera, you wanted to warn her about Mason.”
“But now I don’t need to,” said Walt. “You’re here—I guess the real Seb knows what you know, right?”
The World Walker Series Box Set Page 52