by Craig Zerf
A broad, bull-necked man strode across the room to stand in front of the captain. ‘Sir?’
Ethan handed the man the sealed letter. ‘Get this to the chief Highman, Grah Alou. Make haste, it is of the utmost importance.’
Torville saluted, tucked the missive into his belt and took off at a run. The captain’s word was his command.
Ethan sat down in his captain’s chair and looked out of the front view window. He knew that the message of warning would be in the chief Highman’s hand within the next thirty minutes or even less. He had cautioned the Highmen regarding Nathaniel and his cohorts. They had seen the spreading of the chem. In the blight. And they were curious. He counseled that they be removed from the equation. All and any rumors needed to be put down before they flowered and gave forth seed. To silence three people was easier than stopping a rumor that had infected hundreds. No one could know of the Leviathan and its secret missions. No one. It was for the best.
They were still berthed at the Sanfrisco docks, although they had been fully resupplied, but the new top-up crew had not yet arrived. Ethan expected them the next morning, then they would cast off and return to Lostvega, another mission having being successfully completed. He would have continued his raison d’être, his reason to live. The thing that he and his family had done for generation after generation. And his was not to upset the status quo. It was not up to him to ask the whys and to seek answers to the questions. As an airship captain it was his to obey and to do so to the best of his ability. He reminded himself that he did what he did for the best of all involved. He did it for the good of all.
But in the back of his mind a voice called out to him. And it scorned him and heaped shame on him. You do this for yourself, it shouted. You do this for the riches. For the prestige. You do it for personal gain.
‘No,’ he whispered back.
‘Yes!’ Shouted his conscience. ‘And now you send men to kill the very people that selflessly saved your life. You repay a debt with death. You are the lowest of the low.’
‘Dammit,’ yelled Ethan as he stood up, grabbed his coat, strapped on his cutlass and his pistol and stormed from the bridge. His only hope was that he could get there in time. Before the Highmen assassins did.
***
The three had returned from lunch and they sat together in Nathaniel’s room in various positions of repose.
‘Soya sucks,’ proclaimed the marine. ‘There must be more to life than hunting down Untouchables and surviving on beans.’
‘It does what it does,’ commented Brett. ‘We’re healthy and we’re all alive.’
‘It’s boring,’ countered Nate. ‘There must be something else to eat.’
‘Like an apple?’ Quipped Brett.
Nate laughed. ‘Point taken – but I meant that there must be something else to eat that doesn’t cost half a year’s wages.’
‘Ate horse once,’ said Leon.
Brett did a double take. ‘No way. But a horse is even more expensive than apples.’
‘It was long ago. Many years. One of the horses got shot in a skirmish. I built a fire, cut some flesh off, cooked it and ate it.’
‘Did anyone else join in?’ Asked Brett.
Leon shook his head. ‘Taboo. They were disgusted with me. I got away with it because of the whole half-man-half-lion thing. Didn’t exactly enamor me to the others though. Left after a few days, the atmosphere got too heavy.’
‘What did it taste like?’
Leon grinned, showing his extra long canines. ‘Great,’ he said. ‘Best thing ever. Haven’t done it since though. No opportunity and also…well, the whole shunning and taboo thing.’
‘Taboo?’ Questioned Nate.
‘You don’t eat horses,’ answered Brett. ‘Or any animals. Or humans. It’s just not done.’ She shivered. ‘It’s not actually forbidden or against the law it’s simply…not done. You would never actually eat a living thing’s flesh.’ She shuddered.
There was a knock on the door and Nathaniel stood up and walked over. ‘Well, taboo or not,’ he said as he opened it. ‘I’m willing to try anything.’
The first shot struck him in the center of his chest, smashing through his ribs and shredding his heart as it punched through him. The next two hit him in the neck as he went down in a welter of blood, hitting the floor like a sack of meal.
Three men strode into the room, each one of them carrying two pistols.
Leon leapt to his feet and extended his claws while Brett scrambled for one of her throwing knives.
‘Don’t move!’ shouted one of the assassins.
Both Leon and Brett froze as the three interlopers leveled their weapons at them.
There was a flurry of gunfire and blood sprayed across the room as lead struck flesh, rending and tearing and killing.
And Ethan strode into the room and stepped over the bodies of the three men that he had just exterminated.
‘Are you alright?’ He questioned.
Leon rushed over to Nathaniel’s prostrate body, felt for a pulse and then looked up at the captain, his face a mask of anguish. ‘Brett and I are,’ he responded. ‘But Nate is dead.’
Chapter 23
The cherry blossoms rained down from the trees as a gentle zephyr coaxed them from their temporary havens. In the background, water gurgled tranquilly as it flowed over the rocks and pebbles that made up the stream’s bed. Above, the snow topped mountain loomed, awe inspiring without being threatening. The sound of Mourning doves cooing provided a peaceful counterpoint to the constant murmur of the running water and, right on the very edge of hearing, cicadas chirruped and sang as they called for mates.
‘Welcome back.’
Nathaniel opened his eyes, sat up and waited as all around him swam slowly into focus. ‘Fulcrum?’
‘The one and the same,’ confirmed the old man.
‘How did I get here?’
Fulcrum laughed. ‘Come on, my child,’ he said. ‘You know better than to ask that.’
Nathaniel grinned. ‘I’m not actually here, am I?’
‘You are. And you aren’t,’ responded Fulcrum.
‘Long time no see,’ noted the marine.
‘I have been searching for you for over two centuries now. You were not easy to find.’
Nathaniel said nothing as he thought for a while. Memories battered up against his consciousness and fragments slipped through. Confusing. Random. Out of sync. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. ‘Why did it take you so long?’
Fulcrum shrugged. ‘Time is malleable. It is not like one of your DVD players that you can simply spin forward at speed to track down a specific moment. It ebbs and it flows. Some years last longer than others. Some days seem to last forever, yet others flash by in the wink of an eye. Those moments would be easy to miss if one were not extremely careful. Also – I had the whole of infinity to search through. Even for me that is a monumental task.’
‘I’m not sure that I understand,’ admitted Nathaniel.
‘And why would you?’ Asked Fulcrum. ‘It is a concept that even I struggle with.’
‘Am I dead again?’
The old man nodded. ‘For the time being, yes.’
‘Will I go back to the same place? The citadel of Sanfrisco, circa some-time-in-the-future?’
‘Indeed,’ confirmed Fulcrum. ‘And soon, so listen and listen well.’
Then the immortal concept that was known as Fulcrum brought back Nathaniel’s memories, his achievements, his failures and his triumphs. The Little Big Man. Kob the Orc. His people, both the ancient Celts and the citizens of the Free State.
And The Forever Man reeled under the weight of all that he had lost.
Fulcrum stood still and waited for Nathaniel to come to terms with his grief. The shock of friends now long lost. His time gone forever. His anchor in an ever-changing world, ripped from the seabed of his being, leaving him cast astray. A ship without a helmsman.
The marine pushed his hands against his eyes
. As if he thought that by blocking out the light he could also stem the influx of pain.
‘Tad is dead,’ he mumbled. ‘Kob, Roo. Papa Dante. Everyone that I ever knew has been gone for hundreds of years.’ He shook his head. ‘It is as though they never existed. After six hundred years the very memories of them will have faded into nothingness.’
‘Not true,’ interrupted Fulcrum. ‘As it happens, even now the stories of Tad and the ten are still told. Kob’s heroic stand and your sacrifice. You have all become the stuff of legend. And anyway, as long as you remember them there is some small part of them that is still alive.’
The marine took a deep breath. ‘You’re right,’ he admitted. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just…well, a shock. A lot to take in. I’ll be fine.’
Fulcrum nodded. ‘Yes, you will be. But before you go, there is something else.’
‘Hit me with it,’ said Nathaniel. ‘I assume that it’s more crappy news.’
‘Marginally. When you return you will find that certain skills that you used to have command of will no longer be available to you.’
‘Great,’ quipped Nathaniel. ‘You mean like speed, strength? Longevity?’
‘Oh no, you will still have all the same physical attributes that the pulse light has endowed you with. However, your skill at magiks will be greatly reduced.’
‘Why?’
‘The nature of the land,’ responded Fulcrum. ‘The power of your conjurations draws its energy from the life force of the land. The Highmen have killed the life force. The chem wars, the mutants, the general mistreatment of the Earth itself. It leaves nothing for you to work with. Oh, you’ll manage a few minor spells. Small fires, far-speaking. Perhaps far-looking. But it will take you time to re-learn.’
‘Great. Anything else?’
Fulcrum smiled and shook his head. ‘Only – goodbye.’
Time and space folded.
And The Forever Man was gone.
Chapter 24
Nathaniel stood up and shrugged off the sheet was had been covering him. The three lead pistol balls that had struck him rolled down his shirt and fell to the floor. He looked around at the unfamiliar room.
‘Where the hell am I?’ He asked.
Ethan, Leon and Brett simply stared at him, their mouths agape, eyes wide in shocked astonishment.
The marine checked his surrounds out. Chart table, large wooden wheel, brass speaking tube. He walked over to one of the large windows and peered out.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘This must be your ship,’ he addressed Ethan. ‘What was it? Lostvega Leviathan?’
Still no one answered. Nate raised an eyebrow and waited.
Finally Leon spoke. ‘But you’re dead.’
Nathaniel smiled. ‘Patently untrue.’
‘But we checked,’ insisted the lion man. ‘One of the balls had gone straight through your heart. You bled out. I carried your body all the way here so that we could give you a decent burial. You were dead. For sure.’
Ethan’s face was ashen, his expression one of total disbelief. As if he were hallucinating.
Brett walked forward and took Nathaniel’s right hand in hers. ‘It’s warm,’ she stated to know one in particular. Then she reached up and stroked his cheek. ‘You’re alive. How?’
So Nathaniel told them. The pulse, his journey, his rise to become the king of the Picts, leader of the Free State, bane of the Fair Folk and savior of all humanity in the United Kingdom.
He told them of his immortality and his unique abilities. Strength. Speed. Magiks.
He told them about Fulcrum and the Unicorn.
He told them – he was The Forever Man.
Ethan fell to his knees, eyes cast down in supplication as the power of the being in front of them enveloped him. And filled him with awe.
Even Leon and Brett genuflected slightly and let their eyes drop as the marine cast his gaze over them.
Nathaniel shook his head. ‘We’ll have none of that,’ he commanded. ‘You are my friends. Stand proud. I am not some sort of deity. Some manner of demigod to be kowtowed to. I am simply a marine trying his best to get by.’
But Ethan refused to stand.
‘My Lord,’ said Ethan. ‘We are yours to command. Lead us.’
‘Get up,’ insisted Nathaniel. ‘Nothing’s changed.’
‘But it has,’ argued Leon. ‘You are an immortal being. A king, a potentate of great power. And we have been treating you like a normal human being.’
‘Yeah well, I’m also a raggedy man who didn’t even have a job a few weeks back,’ countered the marine. ‘Now, Ethan,’ he continued. ‘I’m starving. How’s about something to eat?’
Ethan jumped up, ran to the speaking tube and barked some orders into it. ‘Food will be sent up immediately, my Lord.’
‘No ways,’ said Nathaniel. ‘Let’s have none of this my Lord crap, okay?’
‘Then what should we call you?’
‘What did you call me before?’
‘Nathaniel.’
‘There you go then,’ encouraged the marine. ‘Nathaniel.’
All three nodded, but Nathaniel could see that they were uncomfortable. However, there was nothing that he could do about that, so he merely sat down at the table to wait for his meal.
He beckoned at the others to sit with him and, after a moment’s hesitation, they did so.
‘Right, I’ve given you the full run down from my side, so, tell me, who shot me and what the hell is going on?’
Ethan stepped forward. ‘My Lord,’ he said. ‘It was my fault…’
‘Stop right there,’ commanded Nathaniel. ‘I’m warning you, no more of the My Lord crap – okay?’
Ethan nodded. ‘Of course, my…sir.’
Nathaniel shook his head ruefully. ‘Whatever. Carry on.’
The airship captain took a deep breath. ‘The ship that you saw when you were in the blight…’
‘The one dropping that orange stuff?’ Confirmed Nathaniel.
Ethan nodded. ‘That’s the one. It was the Leviathan. This ship.’
‘So?’
‘The orange stuff is a Mutagenic Reprotoxic Teratogen.’
‘Great,’ responded Nathaniel. ‘And what the hell is that when it’s at home?’
‘A Mutagen is a chemical that has the capacity to cause mutations. A Reprotoxin has a toxic effect on the process of reproduction. Teratogens cause birth defects in embryos. The chemical is constructed so that it affects animals, humans and plant life.’
There was a pause while everyone worked out exactly what Ethan was saying.
Finally Nate spoke. ‘It’s a chemical that creates Mutants.’
‘And more,’ continued Ethan. ‘It causes the blight. Stunts plant growth, prevents the proliferation of wildlife and even causes humans in the outlying areas to suffer from low rates of childbirth.
‘But why would anyone do such a terrible thing?’ Asked Brett.
‘To maintain the status quo,’ answered Ethan. ‘Since the Highmen settled their truce, all those hundreds of years ago, they lived with one major fear. That humankind would rise up against them and cast them from their seats of power.’
‘So why didn’t they simply exterminate us?’ Asked Nathaniel.
Ethan shook his head. ‘They needed a working class. A class of cleaners, servants. Someone to do the manual labor – or basically anything that the Highmen themselves didn’t want to do. So, they came up with the idea of re-seeding the blight. This achieved a few things. Firstly, they created the Mutants, the Untouchables. This gave the humans a common enemy, a threat that tied both Highmen and humans together. Secondly, it kept the human population down through the low doses of Reprotoxin, ensuring that human numbers did not grow to unmanageable proportions. And finally, it guaranteed that there was little or no food sources save the soya production controlled by the Highmen, thereby shackling humans to the hydroponic largess of the citadels.’
‘But that’s monstrous,’ observed Brett.
Ethan shrugged. ‘It works. We live.’
‘No,’ corrected the marine. ‘You merely survive. I have lived before – it’s different.’
‘Why did you do it, man?’ Asked Leon with a growl. ‘I mean, how can you live with yourself?’
‘It’s what my family have always done,’ answered Ethan. ‘I simply didn’t question it. From a child I knew that it was my calling. My destiny.’
‘So this orange crap, it creates mutants?’ Reiterated Nathaniel.
Ethan nodded.
‘From what?’
‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ said the airship captain.
‘I mean, what would the mutants be if they weren’t mutants?’
‘Umm…humans, I suppose.’
‘You suppose?’ Nathaniel took a step towards the captain. ‘You suppose? Man, I should kill you where you stand. You and your family have been condemning countless generations of human beings to lives of unbelievable suffering and pain…and for what? All because you didn’t have the balls to question the fact. All because you were too comfortable simply doing what you do. You disgust me, captain.’
Ethan went pale. ‘I disgust myself,’ he replied, his voice low. Thick with emotion.
‘Hold on,’ interjected Leon. ‘You still haven’t explained why a bunch of assassins pitched up at our door to do us harm. What was that all about?’
‘That was me,’ whispered Ethan. ‘I panicked when I discovered that you had seen me unloading the chemicals. The rules are very straight forward. Anyone who is not sworn to secrecy and who is exposed to what we are doing must be taken out of the loop.’
‘Taken out of the loop,’ repeated Leon. ‘You mean killed.’
Ethan nodded. ‘Say it,’ insisted Leon. ‘Say what you meant.’
‘I told the chief Highman, Grah Alou. I sent him a message telling him about you. He sent the killers because of me.’
‘After we had saved your life?’ Added Leon.
‘And they killed Nathaniel,’ added Brett.
Leon raised an eyebrow.
‘Well they did,’ repeated Brett. ‘Technically anyhow.’
‘Yes,’ admitted Ethan. ‘But that is why I had a change of heart. That is why I stopped them. And it won’t take long for Chief Highman Alou to work out what happened and that means that I have literally signed my own death warrant.’