The Fall of Chance

by McGowan, Terry

  He took the offered hand. It was firm, strong and cold, clinical in the same way as a doctor’s. As he shook it, Rob pulled him forward; not violently or forcefully but with his natural authority alone. Unt’s face was brought close to Rob’s and for a second, Unt felt a thrill of fear.

  But the Councillor’s son had only words for him. “Be good to her,” he said into Unt’s ear. It wasn’t quite a whisper but it was like a private transmission between the two of them. It wasn’t a threat and it wasn’t a plea: it said all sorts of things and Unt nodded his understanding.

  With that, Rob took his leave and Unt sank back on his bench, drained by the brief encounter. At last, he remembered Lasper but when he looked, the Councillors’ bench was already empty. Only Croker and Morley were still in the room, shuffling the last few steps to their exit.

  Bull was on his way to the public way out, propelled along by a group of lads around him. “Hey, Unt!” he called, “You coming or are you gonna mope inside all day?”

  Unt looked around and realised that already he was nearly the last person in the Hall. “Yeah, be right with you,” he called back. This room of panelled wood would be his domain soon but not now. Now was a time to get out and enjoy the day.

  Taking his time, he ambled after the general press so that as he reached the outer doors, the way before him was clear. He stepped out into the sun, felt its warmth on his face - and an ice-cold hand on his throat.

  “You!” hissed a voice, “I don’t know who you are but you’ve just stolen my son’s life.”

  Startled, he saw the sallow face of Lasper. The old man had stolen around the building lightning-quick and had set an ambush for Unt. His boney hand was disguised by the voluminous material of his sleeve and a rictus smile tried to disguise the livid hate within. The gums around his teeth had receded and the remains were long and knife-like. The eyes were wild and his pupils mere pin-pricks in a milky-blue sea.

  Confronted with this image of raw aggression, Unt couldn’t speak. He wanted to reach up and snatch the hand away but the claw seemed possessed with a paralysing force. All he could do was stare back as Lasper released his grip and pointed skyward.

  “Enjoy your day in the sun,” he said, “Because when I get the chance, I’ll break you. The second you make your first mistake, I’ll gut you. I shall make it my life’s mission to find you out and destroy you.”

  “I, I-” Unt tried to speak but his voice was like poultry: a senseless, clucking noise.

  Lasper gripped him by the shoulders with both hands. “Don’t waste your breath, child. What’s done is settled and can’t be undone, but mark me-”

  “Mr Lasper!” Bull’s mother’s voice cut in like a charge of cavalry, “Unhand that boy!” she scolded, “For shame. You should take a leaf from the book of that son of yours and bear yourself with dignity.”

  She placed her own arm over Unt and put herself between him and Lasper.

  “Don’t interfere,” said Lasper, “He’s a man now and I’ll confront him as a man.”

  “He’s a boy,” said Yvesse, “And you’re a Councillor and a bully. Maya would be ashamed to see her husband act like this.

  The mention of his wife’s name filled Lasper with fresh rage. He drew himself up, saying, “Don’t you-”

  “Don’t you try and threaten me,” Yvesse cut him short. “You’re here to serve the public trust, not act like some petty despot. Now, I suggest you slink away before I raise a complaint with the Council.”

  Lasper looked like he might strike back with sharp words or even a sharp blow but with a visible effort, he checked himself. He backed away and Unt watched him go, seeming to glide like a spirit under his robes. It wasn’t until the Councillor was gone from sight that he turned to Yvesse and whispered, “Thank you.”

  With her arm still on Unt’s shoulder, Yvesse just smiled and led him away from the steps, down toward a brazier where Bull and the rest of his family were gathered. “Don’t worry,” she smiled maternally, “Lasper’s bark is worse than his bite. The whole point of our system is to stop little tyrants like him from having any power. Soon, you’ll be a Councilor too and a damned sight better one, I’ll bet.”

  As they got closer, Sandy hurried forward. “What was all that about?” he asked his wife.

  “Oh, nothing,” said Yvesse, “Just an old dog trying to show its teeth.”

  “Really?” said Sandy, not quite understanding. ”Well, never mind - but congratulations to you, my boy!” he thumped Unt’s hand.

  “Oh, thanks,” said Bull, stuffing his face with a pear.

  “You too, of course!” Sandy slapped his son’s shoulder. “But it’s Unt that I haven’t had a chance to congratulate, yet.” He followed up with another slap on Unt.

  “Thank you,” said Unt.

  He felt a tug at his trouser leg. It was Jenna. “I liked your new wife,” she told him.

  “Oh, yes,” said Sandy laughing. “Quite the looker, that one! Is she about?” He scanned his head around but was too short to see anything. Unt, being taller, made her out at the far side of the Square. Rob was with her and like last night, they were headed up Gate Street, alone.

  Before he had time to dwell on that sight, he felt a punch on his arm. It was just Sandy. “Don’t you think, Unt?” he asked him.

  “Sorry, what?” Unt realised he must have missed something.

  “I was saying our Bulton hasn’t done bad for himself either,” said Sandy. “He’s copied in the footsteps of his old man and got himself a girl two times smarter than he is.” He pulled his wife close, “Believe me, it’s best that way. It means that when they know they’re in the right, there’s a good chance they actually are.”

  “Sandy,” said Yvesse, “Let the poor boys get a word in edgeways. You’d think it’d been you who’d just had your Fall.”

  “See what I mean?” Sandy threw his arms over Unt and Bulton, “But a man can’t be blamed if he wants to offer his young fellows a hearty congratulations. Speaking of which - you two must be thirsty. I suppose you’ll both take an ale apiece?

  “I’d offer you something from the old hip flask but I find it strangely dry this morning.” He gave Bull an exaggerated wink and an elbow to the ribs.

  Unt’s hand went automatically to the dice in his pocket.

  “Oh, put those things away!” Sandy pushed Unt’s hand back. “This is one occasion where there’s no choice to be made. Today you’ve become adults and you’ll match that with a drink.”

  With that, suffering no protest, Sandy ploughed off toward a kiosk that had been set up and was fronted with two great kegs of beer. He returned a minute later with three foaming tankards.

  “Here, get that down you,” he said and Unt took the offered drink.

  That set the tone for the rest of the day and all the evening that followed. Everyone they spoke to wanted to get them a drink and Unt and Bull obliged people as far as their bodies were able.

  In the unadulterated light of day, it seemed that everything was happy. The peaks and troughs of happiness and despair that had been prominent in the Hall seemed levelled by the uniform radiance of the sun. To the heavens, at least, it was true that everyone was equal.

  The day rolled on in this happy atmosphere and the drinks rolled in with it. Lasper was forgotten. Crystal and Rob were forgotten. The ability to speak and stand was eventually forgotten. It had been a good day.

  5. Orientation

  There was a day’s grace between the Fall and everyone taking up their new posts. It gave the Orders a window in which to prepare for their new recruits and it gave time for the youngsters to take it all in. The marriage ceremony wouldn’t happen for another full week.

  It was in the familiar territory of home that Unt awoke next morning. This time, he hadn’t escaped the effects of a day-long party. He mushed his fuzzy head into the fabric around him and worked out it was his couch. He hadn’t made it to bed and couldn’t remember how he’d got there.

  As he reversed the e
vents of yesterday in his head, an incoherent night led back to a very clear day. It seemed so marvellous he doubted the reality of it. It had to be a dream. Only the throbbing pain behind his eyes that came from drink upon drink proved that the party was true and if that was real, so was the rest of it.

  The noise of some workmen outside had woken him and the sound of their digging felt like they were stabbing their picks right behind his forehead. He squinted his eyes against the too-bright sun as it crept in through the window. The window was open and that was responsible for letting the noise in. Clutching his temples against the pain, he got up to close it.

  As he reached for the shutters he looked out at the busy morning scene. Everything was the same and yet, inexplicably different. This was what it felt like to be on the far side of the Fall. It was like a physical barrier had gone up: his childhood was behind him and he now lived in an adult world.

  He retreated back into the recesses of his cave and boiled up the kettle for some coffee. As he waited, he went out to brave the porch and see how things looked from there.

  He sat in his old, comfortable seat and looked down into the valley. The farmers were already well into their day’s labour. They were just black spots in the distance, working the fields in the pleasant spring weather.

  It was funny, Unt thought, how he’d been so certain that his fate was going there that he’d mentally shaped himself for a future working outside. Now he faced the strange prospect of a career spent indoors.

  He heard the kettle’s whistle and went back in to brew his coffee. He allowed the beans to stew a long time, letting it get nice and strong until it was thick like tar. It looked nigh-on undrinkable but on a hard morning, Unt needed the raw strength. He siphoned the mixture into his favourite battered tin mug and went back outside.

  By the time he got to the porch, the boiling heat of the water had travelled up the metal handle and the cup was almost too hot to bear. Unt looked desperately for somewhere to set it down but stopped short at the sight of Bull in his seat.

  “Hey, how you doing, boy?” Bull flapped a long arm in welcome.

  “Move,” said Unt, slamming down the mug, “And I’m a boy no longer.”

  Bull rolled off the seat and flopped down in the chair opposite. “You’re still a boy for now,” he laughed. With a hand on the balcony, he started picking at the varnish.

  “Stop that,” Unt reached out with a lazy kick. “But I suppose you’re right. It’s not going to seem real until we’re actually in post.”

  Bull snorted. “In post? What planet are you on? I’m talking about what’s happening in a week’s time, mate.”

  Of course. What else would it be with Bull? If there’d been a post for chasing women, Bull would’ve had a Talent Modifier of twelve. “You haven’t thought about work tomorrow?”

  Bull waved a dismissive hand. “What’s to worry about? Doesn’t matter if you make a good impression or not. The system means you’re set for life no matter what.”

  It was a difficult point to argue against so Unt didn’t bother. He decided to goad Bull instead. “So you’re not bothered about work but you’re bothered about a wedding? Are you going soft on me?”

  Bull rolled his eyes. “I’m talking about after the wedding, as you well know.”

  “Remember Tont from the year above?” said Unt. “I was speaking with him yesterday and he said that after their wedding party they weren’t up for anything come the evening.”

  The wedding ceremony was a group occasion where everyone was married at once. Afterwards there would be a big party and with a shorter ceremony, there was even more drinking time.

  Bull snorted again. “Tont the farmer? He probably mistook a cow for his wife he’s so brain-dead.”

  The two friends continued to argue deep into the morning. It was tiring with a headache to contend with but, if he was honest, Unt didn’t want it to end. After today, he and Bull would go their separate ways: different jobs, different social circles. Even in a close community, the divides would set in quickly.

  Three coffees later, Unt was getting hungry. “I’ve got a few pork chops sitting in the pantry,” he said, “Want me to rustle some up?”

  “Nah, I gotta go,” said Bull. “Mum’s doing a special roast, like it’s a last meal or something. It’s a pain but I guess I should go see everyone. I’ve not exactly seen much of them these last few days.”

  “Oh, ok. No bother.” Unt was actually disappointed but didn’t want it to show.

  “I’m sure you’d be welcome too,” said Bull quickly as though worried Unt would feel left out.

  “No, no, I’m fine,” said Unt. In truth, he’d have loved to share a roast with his adopted family one last time but he often feared there was a part of Bull that resented his intrusion. It was all very well to say they were like brothers but “like” was a big distinction. “Like” said they were similar but apart. Yvesse and Sandy were Bull’s parents, not Unt’s and he deserved getting them to himself for one day at least.

  “Alright then, I guess I’d best be off,” Bull rose to his feet. “I’ll see if I can come round later.”

  It was the kind of maybe-promise that was blatantly empty but Unt didn’t mind. “Ok, see you,” he answered.

  As Bull loped off, Unt went back to watching the farmers in the distant field. They’d spent all morning working their way from east to west as though mirroring the sun in the sky. Thoughts of food forgotten, Unt stretched out, ready to wile the day away. In a way, this was his last day on earth.

  * * * *

  Later, at night, Unt dreamt confused visions of the day that lay before him. He awoke un-refreshed, tense and not at all eager. He pulled his second-best shirt from the wardrobe, feeling uncertain about it. The day before, he’d thought it best not to wear the same outfit he’d worn for the Fall but now that it came to it, he wasn’t keen at all. The Councillors would have Novice’s robes waiting for him but despite what Bull had said yesterday, Unt wanted to make a good impression.

  Too quickly, the time on the walnut clock passed by and the window for getting ready vanished. The afternoon before, he’d had grand ideas of having everything laid out, ready to put on and go. Instead, he’d let the day run on and now he was in for a mad rush.

  He was expected at Fate Hall for nine and instead of an easy stroll up the road, it was a quick march up a packed street. There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky when he’d gone to bed but it must have rained overnight because his feet splashed in muddy puddles. Droplets flecked his clean black trousers with messy points of brown.

  A quick question to a stranger told him he’d made the walk in three minutes. A glance at the person’s wrist showed the middle hand reaching the vertical. He was due inside at that very moment but he couldn’t resist taking a moment to just look at the Hall.

  Up close, the statues and the stone columns stretched longer and were more severe. It felt like those sheer sides might slide down and crush him at any moment.

  He approached the double doors, palm out-stretched as though stepping into a haunted house. The heavy doors were resistant to his push and he was forced to put his weight behind them. He almost stumbled in between them when they finally shifted.

  At the end of the short entry corridor a group of people were waiting for him, pressed in together into a close horseshoe. They were too packed to count but Unt knew there would be twenty of them. There were seven councillors in their white robes, seven Acolytes - senior apprentices - in orange and six Novices in their grey robes. The seventh, empty position was his.

  Unt didn’t know what had created the opening among his new Order. He knew that no Councillor had died this year. Some misfortune must have happened to one of the other apprentices. The Novices were all pretty young but the Acolytes were older than their title would suggest. Many of them were past middle age; an age when death wasn’t unheard of.

  He wondered if these people would resent him filling their colleague’s place. Maybe they’d expected
and wanted Rob just like everyone else.

  He stood in the open doorway. The daylight behind projected his thick shadow down the corridor but it didn’t reach the horseshoe. The people there were lit by an orange tint from the chamber’s skylights and that peachy colour seemed to blur their shapes, knocking them out of focus.

  Unt could see one person clearly and that was Councillor Kelly. He stood in the centre of the horseshoe and it seemed that as Leader of the Council, the welcoming duties fell to him.

  As Unt hesitated, Kelly beckoned him in. “Unt, welcome. Please, come forward and we can make introductions.”

  As he spoke, Unt got the impression he was seeing a different man. He seemed much more at ease, as though this was his native environment where he could feel himself. The officious persona he’d seen two days ago had seemed genuine then but now, relaxed, Kelly was warm; almost paternal.

  Unt did as was asked and stepped in, leaving the door behind him. As he drew closer, he could make out their features more clearly. The horseshoe was in two ranks and the Councillors and Acolytes dominated the front of these. The Novices peered over their shoulders from the back.

  Unt could clearly make out the long face of Lasper. He’d been dreading this moment; the return of that terrible glare, but Lasper wasn’t even looking at him. It was rude, of course, but Unt would accept rudeness.

  “Please, don’t feel nervous,” said Kelly, “I know this can’t be easy for you but most of us have been in your situation at some point and survived.” He smiled. “I know we Councillors have a formidable reputation but it’s true what we always say: we’re all the same as anyone else and each of us is as human as the next man.

  “I don’t want you to feel intimidated with too many introductions upfront so let’s keep things simple. We’re not the largest of Orders so you’ll soon get to know everyone. We just like to meet newcomers with everyone gathered together.”