The Seat of Power (The Securus Trilogy Book 3)

by Anthony Maldonado

  The Soldier Guards do not question Ulan or even make him break stride. When we get close enough they simply open the door and get out of the way. As we walk through the arch, I notice the layers making up the doors. They may be wooden on the outside, but the inner sections are made of metal. Apparently they are not taking any chances with security in the inner most sanctum of Leadership.

  The chamber inside spreads out as wide as the biggest halls in Securus, with a ceiling three stories above us. The running water and plants scattered throughout the area give this place a similar feel to their gardens outside. The design here is the polar opposite of our underground facilities. They spared no expense in creating an open and natural feel. Considering the grandeur of the rest of their city, I would expect nothing less from these people.

  We head toward two men sitting in the middle of the room, waiting next to a water fountain. The older man sees our arrival but chooses to ignore us. His attention remains focused on the man whispering in his ear. Seeing them sitting there causes my muscles to tense and a chill to run through me. Even with him turned away, I know the second man is Braeden Karun.

  Despite already knowing he was the one who summoned me here, seeing him in person is difficult. We stand far enough to give them privacy while they finish their discussion. The older man next to the Controller has a regal appearance. He has medium length beard framing a stern face, all set on a strong build. His golden eyes now watch us as Braeden continues whispering. Something about him just feels unnatural. He must be in his sixties but appears to be in better physical condition than a man in his twenties. My guess is he has indulged in Caelum’s propensity for genetic engineering. This man must be the Patron of Leadership.

  After a couple more minutes, they both finally stand. The Patron is even taller than Braeden. His size accentuates the unique uniform he wears. He has a jacket topped by an oversized collar shooting out against gravity. The deep collar reveals the top of a vibrant rendition of Caelum’s Leadership symbol tattooed on his chest. Somehow the burning sun casts a glow onto the gold streaks weaving through the rest of his black jacket and pants. The Patron regards me with annoyance. Even so, I prefer his stare when compared to the gaze from the emotionless steel blue orbs Braeden uses as eyes. Ulan steps forward to greet them as they come toward us.

  “May I introduce Kagen Meldon,” Ulan says to the Patron with a bow and his arms gesturing to me. “And of course, you already are aware of the involvement of Dehan’s grandson.”

  “Has he revealed what he knows?” the patron asks in a deep, gravelly voice.

  “Dehan refuses to speak,” Malin says. “But I’m confident with a little more time, he’ll break.”

  “Time is not something we can spare now. If he will not speak, he’s useless to me,” Braeden says, never moving his eyes from mine. He takes out a gun and holds it to Dehan’s head. “Kagen, this is your only chance to save him.”

  “Please spare Manav, he’s too young to understand what he was doing,” Dehan pleads.

  “That’s no excuse. He will die, as will your daughter,” Braeden says, still focusing his attention on me.

  Before I can say anything, Braeden pulls the trigger. Dehan’s body falls to the floor while his blood splatters on the ground behind him.

  “How about this one?” Braeden asks Malin.

  “So far every word he’s said has been a lie. Would you expect anything else from him?” Malin says while getting the detonator out. “He did have this with him.”

  “What’s this for?” Braeden demands while aiming his gun at me.

  “It’s a stress relieving device,” I tell him. “You should try it.”

  “If you refuse to talk, then what good are you?” he asks with his gun now digging into my forehead.

  I knew coming here would enrage him, but never thought he would kill me this fast. Braeden’s grip on the gun tightens as his finger tenses against the trigger. My end is coming. My only regret now is there was not even a chance for me to plead for Talia’s life. I close my eyes and think of Talia, not wanting my last thoughts to be of Braeden.

  Suddenly, the gun moves from my forehead. My eyes open to see the Patron pushing Braeden’s arm down. He is not ready to kill me yet. The delay brings me no relief. They are only delaying the inevitable.

  “Clean up this mess,” the Patron tells one of the Soldiers, pointing to Dehan’s body. “Braeden, why don’t you attend to the details you were speaking of while I take Kagen here for a little stroll?”

  Braeden turns to march out the door. Before he leaves, something catches my attention. As he turned, his lips pursed with unmistakable irritation. That was the first genuine emotion he has ever shown. Apparently he really dislikes taking orders from the Patron. This is interesting.

  Ulan follows Braeden, leaving me with the Patron. He has the Soldier remove my restraints and motions for me to follow him. No Soldiers or assistants come with us. The Patron is more than confident I pose no threat to him. He undoubtedly has faith in his strength, but I suspect he also has some weapon concealed within his ornate uniform. We walk through the airy room and into a hallway on the other side. The path is lined with natural stones and intricate detail adorning the arched ceiling. We pass some busts of men and women with names on plaques beneath them. He moves too fast for me to read the inscriptions.

  This hallway leads us to an expansive wooden room. I have never seen anything like it. Shelves filled with actual books climb two stories high all around us. When the Patron pushes a button, an image of him appears in the center of the room. Like the floating images in the glass towers, this one has no visible screen or projector of any kind indicating its source. Aside from the obvious narcissism, the room contains a weird mix of old craftsmanship and new technology.

  “Kagen, once I learned of your arrival, I knew we had to meet,” the Patron says with amusement. “We’ve never had an uninvited guest here since Caelum’s inception, so this is quite a surprise for us.”

  “Considering your people’s gracious hospitality, I don’t understand why no one came before me,” I tell him, letting the sarcasm roll out unabashed.

  “How long have you been here?” he asks.

  “Not long,” I tell him. “If you return Talia to us, we’ll be more than happy to leave.”

  “Bold, aren’t you?” he says with a wicked smile. “We both know that’s not going to happen. In fact, Braeden’s on his way to see Talia now.”

  Chapter 28

  The Patron’s mention of Braeden with Talia silences me. I divert my eyes, waiting for him to continue.

  “It’s rather interesting how defiant you remain even as you face certain death. Then again, I would expect no less from someone audacious enough to step foot into my city. That’s why extracting information from you isn’t my intention now. I figure since you came all this way to visit us, a history lesson is in order,” he says.

  The Patron pushes another button, changing the image floating in the center of the room. Instead of his narcissistic tribute, I see the original structure of Caelum along with the surrounding colonies. They are all relatively close compared to what we were led to believe. Now, above the diagram appear the images of eight people. Among them are six men and two women.

  “These are the founding partners of Caelum and the outlying settlements,” the Patron says. “They were visionary people from a corrupt and dangerous time. These magnificent colonies were financed from their own wealth, separate from any government venture. That was by design because when the need for this course of action arose, every government had become completely useless. They were filled with cowardly people concerned only with the next election and their public appearance instead of enacting any useful changes. This led them to meaningless squabbles with each other, purposely played out in the public eye, all the while knowing they were accomplishing nothing of substance. Our founders recognized their government’s impotence. They knew this could only continue for so long before everything fell apart
.”

  “Sounds a lot like Caelum to me,” I blurt out before catching myself.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he says, admonishing me as if I were a child. “We do not suffer from the same burden they did. What we’ve built is the proof of that. The rotting structure of society left the founders with little choice. The only viable option was to start over. From there, Leadership was born. The eight points of the sun each symbolizes one of our founders. Their light shines above Caelum, here in the utopia they envisioned. It was their foresight and ingenuity that led to the engineering of The Agent in the first place.”

  The image in the screen changes to the same picture of The Agent we have on the walls of the Learning Center in Securus. His words confuse me. This can’t be true, I argue with myself, even though I know better.

  “So they’re the ones who supplied The Agent to the warring countries? Why would they do that?” I ask, trying to make sense of his perverse logic.

  “You misunderstand,” he says, allowing a sigh to escape his condescending smile. “The wars did break out without our interference. That much was inevitable. But the warring governments never had access to The Agent. They were much too unreliable to be trusted with such a perfect creation. Our founders waited until we were able to build these facilities, and then they ordered the release of The Agent around the globe. You see, the world’s destruction was a necessary sacrifice. The only way to start anew was to begin with a truly blank slate. The glut of the world had to be eliminated so we could remake it.”

  His words hit me so hard my mind threatens to shut down. It was bad enough when we knew the people of Caelum took advantage of The Agent to gain control over the colonies. Knowing they were responsible for creating the very monster that drove us underground is unthinkable. Even worse than the horrible message he delivers is the pride he takes in telling it. The unspoken irony is Caelum’s people have become even more morally corrupt than the society they wanted to escape. I only wish he would stop there, but that would be too merciful.

  I stare through the ceiling, futilely fighting to stop my mind from processing the Patron’s words. Against my will, a question forms from my own breath.

  “Does that mean this entire set-up was all by design?” I ask. “The founders intended all along for the colonies to serve the purpose they currently do?”

  “Now you understand,” the Patron replies happily. “It was not by chance we were the only ones to emerge from our underground confines when The Agent deactivated. We knew exactly how long our weapon would remain active. When one year passed, our founders led the entirety of Caelum to the surface. Most of the city was already built before The Agent was released, so we’ve had the last two centuries to improve ourselves along with our city. Any possible threat to our enduring power has already been considered and planned for.”

  “Two centuries?” I ask, confused. “Wasn’t the Agent released one-hundred years ago?”

  “That’s merely when the last escape attempt was stopped,” he replies in a condescending tone. “We discovered the occupants become more restless and less productive when their calendars move too far. So we used the opportunity to reset Securus’ calendar.”

  The Patron’s message is clear. They are prepared for this and any other circumstance. Even more than that, he is emphasizing the sincerity of his intent. The founders of Caelum wiped out the population of an entire planet and enslaved the remaining survivors in order to create a new society. No matter what needs to be done to ensure their enduring power, they are willing to do it. He wants me to understand we could never be a real threat to them.

  Unfortunately, he is right. Without the detonator, nothing I do would even slightly inconvenience them. The confusing part is why he even bothered to explain this to me. Braeden has already made his intention clear with what he did to Dehan and what he was about to do with me before the Patron stopped him. Is he simply toying with his prey, or is there more to this? I wonder if the Patron merely wishes to exert his dominance over Braeden. After all, he is intentionally interfering with matters that should fall under the purview of the Controller of Settlement Resources, since in their eyes I am nothing more than one of those resources.

  “So what happens now?” I ask.

  “That’s the question isn’t it?” he replies. “You’ve created quite a stir in Leadership today, especially for Braeden.”

  Normally that would be a consolation for me, but after losing Hadwin and knowing Talia is in the Controller’s hands now, it only makes me feel worse. In Braeden’s eyes, making him look bad within Leadership is probably the worst thing I could do. Even if the Patron makes the Controller squirm first, he will have his satisfaction one way or another before this ends.

  “Tell me, did you really make it all the way inside Munitus as well?” he asks, leaning forward as if eagerly anticipating my answer.

  I do not want to tell him the truth, but the voice in the back of my mind urges me to. Judging from the way he asked, the Patron seems to be hoping for the rumor to be true.

  “Yes,” I reply. “And just so we’re clear, Talia never stepped foot outside of Securus. That was my action alone.”

  The Patron howls in laughter, no longer able to contain his amusement. His reaction utterly perplexes me. First he lectures me like a child, then he warns against challenging his power, and now he revels in my subversive actions. Either the Patron has another hidden agenda or the genetic manipulation has fried his brain. The more he speaks, the more I think the reason is the latter of those two options. No matter his motives, this game has become tiresome.

  “How delightful this is,” the Patron says to himself before turning back to me. “Kagen, I must say, we never thought any of the occupants would be so bold to attempt anything like this. I assumed the initial reports of your actions were grossly over exaggerated, but seeing the truth in your eyes tells me otherwise.”

  Then, like the rest of the conversation, his mood and tone quickly shift again. The Patron leans closer to me and lowers his voice. His amusement already replaced by a calculating intensity. Looking in his eyes, I am instantly convinced every detail of his behavior was by design. He has not been diminished by his genetic manipulation. This man is far more cunning than I gave him credit for.

  “Normally, I would’ve had you strung up in the Detention Center and kept alive only long enough to hear the entirety of your actions from the moment you left Securus until now,” he says with complete indifference. “But, Braeden is a clever man, and that has been a bit of a bother to me lately. Having an occupant this far out of control on his watch presents an opportunity for me to rid myself of that bother.”

  “So you need me alive?” I say, wanting to use that as leverage for Talia’s freedom.

  “Only for the moment,” he says with a flicker of his hand, as if he were swatting my hope away like an irritating insect. “No matter what, your actions cannot go unpunished. I make no promises, but your chances are much better if you cooperate with me. Otherwise, Braeden gets to end this any way he sees fit. We both know what that means.”

  “What do you want from me?” I ask, weary of his intentions.

  “We are gathering the council. I expect you to be honest and forthcoming with all our questions, including anything you intended to accomplish here,” he says. “After seeing Braeden’s incompetence, what little influence he has managed to scrape together will be destroyed.”

  So his timing with Braeden was deliberate after all. He plans on using me to show the others how the Controller failed to tame a lowly occupant. If I managed to elude his control, anyone could be next. This is an interesting turn of events, though in the end, he will most likely kill us all anyway. All I am to him is a useful pawn for the moment.

  “What of Talia?” I ask.

  “She’ll be present during the gathering, in case you feel the urge to lie to me,” the Patron says with a sinister grin.

  “And afterward?” I ask.

  He looks back at
me with surprise. “You really would have her life spared over yours, wouldn’t you?”

  “Absolutely,” I reply.

  “This occupant, so full of surprises,” the Patron says to himself while getting up, neglecting to answer my question. He goes back to the panel he used to activate the floating images. The Patron turns the images off and presses another button. “Have the council gathered. I’ll escort the occupant for presentation to them myself.”

  I suspect he has no intention of keeping me or Talia alive after this meeting ends. If he was considering doing so he would most likely use the offer as extra motivation. In fact, I find it a little weird that he did not do so, even as a lie. Then again, every aspect of his behavior shows he is not at all threatened by me, so why bother?

  The Patron leads me back down the hallway we came from. This time the faces on the busts are familiar. They are the founders of Caelum, the killers of billions. They do not deserve to be revered. Even hatred seems too good for them. The world needs to have their memory erased from its history. I only wish I were in a position to do that.

  Back in the expansive room outside the Patron’s office, we pass the central fountain where Braeden and the Patron were sitting earlier, when something catches my eye. On a chair nearby lies a small knife. It must have been accidentally left behind by one of the Soldier Guards. The diminutive weapon may not be much, but it is better than nothing. I pretend to trip and stumble toward the chair. The Patron turns around when hearing my clumsy fall. He stares at me for a moment, before turning back and resuming his march through the room. The knife is the perfect size to fit inside my belt, replacing the one Malin confiscated from me.