33 Degrees of Separation (Legacy)

by Rain Carrington

  “I know the type.”

  “It hasn’t changed all these centuries later. Well, they made a pact, that’s how it started. These few families would band together and find others like them, pool their money together, and start on the kings and leaders. They’d use their money to learn things about these men in power, bribing and threatening everyone who could give them in the information they needed. Using the information, they could blackmail the leaders to do what the families wanted.”

  Ian stopped for a moment, hands on his hips as he looked out into the forest. Pat knew he was gathering his thoughts, not waiting for a response yet, so keeping his patience, Pat settled into the chair.

  “With the new power, and their being in the shadows, they could move around and find out more information about other rich men, other men in power. They appointed themselves advisors to the kings or leaders, but no official record was to ever be made of that.

  “After a few years, their wealth grew, as did their power. As much as they wanted to stay a secret, some of the families talked, some of the men they were blackmailing did too. They had to figure out a way to keep themselves more secretive, so that they could continue on with their plans with no expiration date.”

  Unwilling to interrupt him, Pat watched, fascinated as he continued his pacing.

  “Like pirates on the land, they had treasure chests full of, well, loot. In one of the chests that they’d been given to spare the lineage of a certain royal family, were what started the grails.”

  That time, Pat had to ask, “Okay, my nosy meter is pinging like mad. What royal family and what did they learn that made the family vulnerable?”

  Ian gave him a smile despite the seriousness of the situation. “I asked the same thing. Yes, it’s that royal family. Seems the king at the time had an illegitimate son. He fancied the boy’s mother, so he kept them around the palace. His royal heir was gay, and he and the illegitimate son fell in love and were shagging, not knowing they were brothers.”

  Pat could feel his eyes widen. “No shit? Is that true?”

  “Supposedly the Grail still have the documents from the people they got the information from. Anyway, the king at that time would only drink from the finest goblets, golden, crested with jewels. An artisan from the outskirts of the kingdom made them. That was his only job, making these goblets for the king’s drink. They blackmailed the king into not only taking only the order’s advice on ruling the kingdom, but they made him give up some of his wealth too.”

  “All this sounds like some twisted fairy tale.”

  Ian finally retook his seat, laughing along with Pat. “I said that too. My father didn’t think it was so funny. He was speaking about it like it was a biblical passage, meant to teach and inspire.”

  “I’m sure. Please, go on.”

  “Well, these golden goblets, there were enough of them for the head of each of the families. It gave them an idea, and they became the Gilded Grail.”

  Remembering Ian’s father’s study, the goblet on the shelf, Pat asked Ian, “The one in your father’s den?”

  “One of the originals, yes. Passed down for generations. Hundreds of years.”

  “Your family is one of the original Grails?”

  “Every family now is a descendent of the originals, Agent Pat. Quite the legacy to live down, isn’t it?”

  All he could do was to nod and reach for him, setting a big paw on Ian’s shoulder.

  Ian’s words were biting, disgusted, and he spat them out like they were vile on his tongue, “They liked being called the Grail, being that it brought to mind the Holy Grail. They saw themselves as gods on earth. They still do.”

  After he’d gone quiet and was that way for a long time, Pat broke the silence. “All this is interesting, and while not a legacy I’d cherish, there has to be more to scare you the way it did.”

  “Yeah. There is. See, after they established the order, they needed rules, initiations. They figured there would come a time, in one or more of the families, that a son wouldn’t want this great gift they’d been given. That morals or ethics might get in the way of their ever-widening thirst for power. So, the initiations had to be extreme. The lessons of the first degrees had to be so harsh that they’d know beyond a doubt what would happen if they so much as thought of betraying the Grail.”

  Stiffening, readying for the revelation, Pat watched Ian’s struggle. Gone was the bright, mischievous smile he’d had while telling about the royal family’s escapades. His eyes were reddening again, his hands shaking. Whatever was coming, Pat knew he wouldn’t be ready to hear it. Not if it made this wonderful, confident man quake with fear.

  “We got off the plane. My father warned me to take all of it seriously and to be respectful of the full members. That was it. That was all he warned me about.

  “We were driven to a building that looked like it was some prison. Plane, cinderblock walls, small, squared windows, all the lights off, so there was only the glare from the headlights showing that much. There was a long passageway once we went through the back doors and then we emerged in this locker room, but it was immaculate. Marble, bronze, the lockers oak and cedar and valets were there to assist us. My father showed me to a locker that was mine, and his was right next to it. He told me to take off my clothes and put on the robe that was in my locker. I thought it was crazy, you know. I wasn’t nervous yet or anything. It was like a joke. I knew better than to laugh, but you’ve seen the crazy stuff about orders like this. Weird rituals and them crowded around big tomes that held formulas that prayed to old gods or whatever.”

  “I have.”

  “This robe, it was custom made for me, it was obvious. Silk, and not just any silk. The best. Everything there was the best. Perfect length and fit on my shoulders, so I knew this was in the works for a while. There were others in the locker room, a couple like me, barely containing their laughter. Young men, the initiates. I even recognized one. Cameron…”

  “Cameron? How did you know him?”

  “Cameron Kent. His father, James, and mine ran in the same circles. The Hamptons, Cape Cod, Aspen, they vacationed in many of the same places, during the same seasons. We weren’t friends, per se, but acquaintances. While we were taken from the locker room, we went down another hall, this one as ornate as the locker room as been. To know this was all in that flat, boring building blew my mind. It came to me then that there was a reason for that. They didn’t want anyone to know what was inside.”

  Pat nodded, keeping himself gripped for the worst, which he felt coming on quickly.

  “We got to a huge room, golden walls, crystal chandeliers, bronze and silver sconces, and a long table off to one end that would seat at least thirty. In the middle was a circle of black marble in the center of the white marble, and that was where my father led me, and the others went to. We stood in the circle and then my father and another man walked out into the middle, moving around so they could see everyone as they spoke.

  “They welcomed us initiates into the Gilded Grail. As they spoke, telling what privilege it was to be brought in at last, two men walked around the circle, handing out goblets. These weren’t the fancy ones they’d give us, or that the other members already had. These were simpler, though still golden and encrusted in jewels around the rim.

  “Another man walked around after those handing out the goblets and he had a decanter, which he used to fill all the goblets we held. Like a communion in church, you see, we were given our new destinies and with them, we were to pledge our loyalty.”

  He swallowed a couple of times, eyes cast down on the ground, hands running together. Pat let him take his time, as they had nowhere they had to be in any kind of hurry.

  “They spoke on and on about history, about traditions. Being the power behind the crowns, behind the pens, behind the declarations. They eluded to the fact that very little of history as we’d heard it from school was true. That wherever there was war or peace, the Grail was there, controlling it. I personally did
n’t think that was much to brag about. They seemed proud.

  “Cameron…” He stopped, choked up and Pat reached down where he’d kept a couple bottles of water, handing him one. After Ian took a long drink, he swiped a tear that had escaped his eye and set the bottle between his thighs. “Cameron…he…he kept glancing my way, smirking. I could tell he didn’t really believe all of it. I didn’t at first. I thought it was a lot of pomp and circumstance, a hazing of sorts like my fraternity in school.

  “They said the wine in our hands contained traces of the blood of the original men who began the Grail. Our forefathers, ancestors. That ours would be added, so that generations down the line would take us in and know they were taking in greatness.”

  “Jesus, that’s gross,” Pat whispered.

  “Yeah, I almost dropped my damn goblet. That would have been a slap in the face to the members. They take all of it very seriously, and at that time, I was getting that, but I had no idea yet.”

  Ian slid the back of his hand over his cheek, and Pat wanted to hold him, tell him everything would be okay, but not only would that be inappropriate, he didn’t know if everything would be okay. Hope was one thing, but false hope was probably the worst thing someone could give.

  “They told us there were three phases of initiation into the Grail. Tests of loyalty and worthiness. We were the families of the originals, but that didn’t mean we weren’t expendable. It started out with a handful of families, but they’d grown it to over a hundred and fifty in the late 17th century. Now, though, there are sixty-two families.”

  Pat wanted to think that most of those families had died off in natural ways, but with the jittery way Ian was moving, knees bouncing and hands rubbing together so much, he may not have skin left on his palms soon, he doubted it.

  “The first two were tests, sure, but they were also brainwashing techniques. I get the feeling that each step in the degree process will be more of the same. They let us know that our initiation rituals would begin that night. They said a chant those of us new there didn’t know. It wasn’t in English. Latin, I recognized it. I took a little in boarding school, but it was one of those classes I hated, so of course I didn’t learn too much. The end, the part I did comprehend was usque ad mortem.”

  Translating, Pat whispered, “Until death.”

  “Any smiles or smirks stopped right then. I think it sunk in for us newbies, that this wasn’t some lodge our fathers wanted us to join where we’d drink beer and get away for long weekends. There is no quitting the Grail. Only death will release us.”

  He stopped then, the silence hanging like a pendulum, like time had stopped, and even the birds and wind quieted for it. In that moment, Pat understood more of why Ian was afraid, as anyone that is forced into something that death can only release, it’s not only monumental, but terrible in so many ways.

  “The first initiation, it was horrible, but nothing that would kill me. We faced our fears. We were taken away from the group by our own fathers and other members. There were these separate chambers all over the building, and we passed a few as my father led the way to the one that had been prepared for me.

  “We got in there, and there was this box. The room was cement, floors, walls, all of it. Like a perfect cube, but in the center was a wooden box, like a fucking coffin. My father stood by while one of the other men told me the tradition of facing one’s fears. It went back to almost the beginning. The Grail members could be tortured or have their fears used against them if ever they were found out, so if we faced the greatest of our fears, and knew that only the Grail could save us from them, we’d be much more loyal members.

  “I was to get into the box and lie down, arms over my chest. I think the box itself and the position I was to be in were part of the head trip. That mask of death, being in a coffin, all that. Then, two more men entered the room, though I couldn’t see them at first. I didn’t see them until they were hefting a barrel up and tipping it into the box.”

  Pat’s eyes closed, trying to block out the words Ian was soon to say. He felt Ian’s fears and anxiety coming off him in heavy waves, like a storm raging in the ocean. He grabbed Ian’s hand and held it, the act no longer inappropriate, or if it was, he didn’t care.

  “See, I liked heights, being a bit of a ski bum. I didn’t mind spiders, water was amazing, I was all about water skiing, swimming is my favorite workout. What I was afraid of as a kid, though, were snakes. I was terrified of them. I stepped on one when I was little, got bit, and the whole house erupted in chaos over it. Turns out it was a bull snake, totally benign, but they thought it was a rattlesnake, and their reaction to it made me forever terrified of them. That was, until a couple years ago.

  “Denny and I loved to hike, but he loved to rock climb. I wasn’t into that, because I was always afraid I’d stick my hand in a spot and get bit. He wanted to share his love of rock climbing with me, like I got him to start skiing. He set it up for me at the zoo. He had a couple friends that volunteered there in the summers and they let me into the reptile house. The zookeeper guy that was head of it, he took his time with me, letting me be around them, touching them, seeing they weren’t all these hideous creatures searching me out to kill me.”

  “They filled the box with them, didn’t they?”

  Ian’s narrowed eyes showed he was angrier than he was scared of what had happened, but he was still shaking. Part of that was pure terror.

  “Yeah. They poured a barrel of snakes into the box with me. Now, I hung with the snakes, I wasn’t afraid to go rock climbing with Denny anymore, but still, having a barrel of snakes poured into a box with you, it’s fucking horrific. I started to scream like I’ve never screamed before, and I tried to get up, but I was held down by the two men that had brought the barrel. After my screams died down some, they started at me. They badgered me, telling me the only way I was getting out of there was to realize it was the Grail that could save me. Only the Grail could save me. The Grail could take all my fear. Over and over, man, until that’s all I thought I’d ever hear. It felt like hours I was in there, and maybe it was. Time was fucked up, like everything else. I saw it, finally. They were holding up a Grail to me. All I had to do was reach for it, and I’d be saved from all the bad in the world.”

  “You reached for it.”

  “Of course, I did. I was half crazed. I reached up and the hands fell away from me. I was let go and I grabbed it, holding onto it for dear life. Just then, the men lifted me out of the box and the robe was stripped off me, another one set around my shoulders. For a second…for just a second, I thought I’d give in. I’d give in because I didn’t want to see what could be worse.”

  Pat squeezed the hand he was holding, noticing that even though he’d been holding it, it had gone cold.

  “Ian, no one could blame you.”

  Ian’s head turned to him, and his eyes were leaking tears steadily. The sight broke Pat, but his words cut Pat in two. “I blame me! I do! I reached for it, and it wasn’t some ploy, it was real, I wanted that fucking Grail to save me.”

  “There was nothing to save you from except what was in your own mind, Ian. They used that. It’s like a cult, and they use fear to control its members. I’ve studied many cults and they’re all the same in some respects, no matter their surface differences. Fear is the one thing that will always be used by people like this to take control over people. If there is nothing to fear, they will manufacture it.”

  “I know all that. Rationally, I know, but when I was in it, the situation, everything I thought I knew was gone.”

  “What happened next? Let’s get through this, Ian, and then we’ll figure out how to proceed next.”

  “Proceed next? Pat, what part of in for life are you not comprehending?”

  That tore at him, that Ian was so set for that to be a part of his life. “There’s got to be a way, Ian, to at least help you through this.”

  “Their technology is advanced. Greatly so, like it’s better than our intelligence ag
encies. They have hundreds and thousands of men and women that work for them. It’s not just the Grail families. It’s those loyal to them. There is a secondary group, an auxiliary. They are spared the wars and plagues and whatever else the Grail unleashes, make a ton of money, so in turn, they protect us. They are some of those that take the positions of leaders in the world, so that way the Grail is assured loyalty and cooperation.”

  That opened Pat’s eyes to how big it actually was. Before, he’d thought it similar to the Free Masons, but Ian’s revelation added a new layer. “Jesus, how far does this go, Ian? Do you know some of those members?”

  “I’m a first degree, Pat. I don’t know a lot yet.”

  “And your father?”

  Ian swallowed hard, then looked him in the eye, and Pat saw the light dimming in Ian’s eyes. “Thirty-third degree. He’s at the very top along with a few others around the world.”

  After letting that sink in, Pat pled, “Continue. Maybe there isn’t anything we can do to get you out, but we’ll never know unless I know all the facts and details. I want to help, Ian, and I will, but you have to finish.”

  Sighing in resignation, Ian went on, “The second trial came pretty quickly. I think they don’t want the initiates to have too much time to think or recover from the last. I was in a room, like a bedroom, and was allowed to take a shower. I guess that’s usually needed, probably to wash off the stink when the initiates shit themselves after facing their fears.

  “My father came in alone. That was the first time we’d been alone since the plane. I was so angry at him, I didn’t want to speak to him, or so much as look at him. I mean, I guess it’s not even his fault, but I felt like it was. He grabbed my arms before we left and glared at me, like he couldn’t believe it was me who was getting this great honor, or whatever.”

  That brought up something Pat had been wondering. “Is that how the families die off? At least some? They only have one child, or none, and that heir dies before producing another?”