-From The Fall: The Decline and Failure of 21st Century Civilization by Martin Raffe
Isra marched up the walled street toward the Sala Gran with the pregnant Cytherean woman held between two of the Rainha’s soldiers. The city was quiet. There was no sound but the hard march of Isabel’s men and the soft crying of the woman they had pulled from the shuttle.
Isra shut her eyes and took several deep breaths to steady her nerves. But every time she tried to clear her head, a wave of guilt washed over her. It was thick and stifling like her mind was coated in a layer of rancid sludge. Somehow, the quiet of the city made it worse. It was as if she could hear her crimes echoing off the walls with every step.
Celia waited for them outside the Sala Gran as they approached. Her face was mournful, her eyes downcast. She was wringing her hands, and her mouth was drawn down in a frown as if she understood Isra’s conflict and was sad for her.
When they were a few meters away, Celia stepped forward to take the pregnant woman’s hands in hers. She held them for a moment and said in their native language, “Luciana, why?”
The woman had been gently crying since they left the shuttle, but now she broke out into great heaving sobs. So much that she could barely get the words out. “I.. I don’t know.”
The emissary wrapped her arms around the shaking woman and held her for a moment. It was the first and only time Isra had seen anyone on Cytherea show any sign of physical or emotional intimacy. She also realized that, since Celia was a representative of the Rainha’s regime, the display wasn’t personal. Rather, it was proof that the state was the only family, the only love and the only loyalty any person on Cytherea had and that thought caused another wave of guilt to wash over Isra.
Celia pulled back and wiped away some tears. “You must face the Rainha now. Be strong like the warrior ancestors of your past. The Rainha is merciful. Explain that you have been misled. Renounce all ties to the people of Earth and dedicate yourself to Cytherea again. I am sure the Rainha will listen.”
The woman covered her face either out of shame or fear and continued crying. Celia gave one of the soldiers a nod, and they marched forward pulling Luciana along with them. Celia watched them leave for a moment before she turned back to Isra. “That was difficult, I know that. But we thank you for bringing her to us.”
Isra watched as soldiers opened the towering wooden doors to the Sala to let Luciana and her escorts through. The door shut with a heavy sound that made Isra’s heart hurt. “What will happen to her?”
Celia made a motion with her head and started walking to the Sala. “That is up to Rainha Isabel. I believe she will show mercy, but it is hard to say. This is… events such as these have not been common since the time of Maximilliano. Isabel’s ancestor saved Cytherea by showing strength. And she may find it necessary—”
“What do you mean ‘common’?” Isra interrupted.
Celia stopped a couple of meters in front of the wooden doors. “What did you say?”
“I said, what do you mean by ‘common’? This is a single instance. It was brought on by a specific and peculiar set of circumstances unlikely to be repeated. What do you mean ‘common’?”
For a fraction of a second fear flashed across the emissary’s face. A person without Isra’s gift would have likely missed it, but it stood out to her as bright as the sun overhead. Celia’s expression swiftly settled into a warm smile. “I perhaps misspoke. I meant to say it was common in the time of Maximilliano. That is what makes it so troubling now. Please, come with me.”
Celia breezed through the open door, and Isra followed. The stinging, pulling sensation that had become so common on this world replaced the guilt. Celia walked quickly through the doors and into the grand banquet hall as if to emphasize that the current subject was officially closed and she did not intend to entertain it any farther. She stopped, spun around and motioned to the long tables. “Please, you must be hungry. It is in between patrols so you might enjoy a quiet meal for a while. I will inform the Rainha that you are here. She will want to speak to you more, I think. There is, I believe, much unfinished business before you can leave this place.”
Isra nodded. “Much unfinished. Yes.”
Celia bowed slightly and rushed away, leaving Isra alone in the vast drinking hall with a handful of oculto workers sweeping, scrubbing, and otherwise cleaning the room. She found a spot at one of the empty tables and sat down. Within minutes, a plate of roasted meat and vegetables on metal skewers was placed in front of her. She reached for one and noticed something under the plate. She pulled out a torn piece of paper, likely a scrap retrieved from the garbage or preserved from some other fate. It only had one word, written in Cytherean, scrawled across it in sooty black writing. ‘Liberdade.’
Isra stood up and hissed in Cytherean to the oculto that gave her the food, “Stop.”
The person in the long brown robe halted and turned around, keeping their face hidden behind the hood. Isra held up the paper. “What is thi—”
She stopped mid-sentence when he lifted his head, and his one eye met hers. The other was sealed shut and a red, shiny scar, like one that would have been left by a burn, crossed it from the cheek to the forehead. The injury caused Isra to gasp in surprise. Then she noticed something else. He closed his other eye and shook his head slightly. Isra understood immediately and looked around. Along with the oculto, there were a few soldiers standing guard along the wall and a few taking a meal in between patrols. It was clear to Isra that the man intended her to understand that it was not safe to talk here.
Isra straightened up and spoke loud enough for anyone in the room who might be listening in to hear. “Oculto. I would like some hydromel.”
The man bowed and whispered, “Sim, Senhora.”
Isra sat back down at the table and took a bite of meat from the skewer and watched the other oculto working in the room. Until now, they had studiously kept their heads down and their faces covered, as if they were afraid to make eye contact. But something had changed. As they walked by, they flashed her the briefest of glances. She noticed one or two others had nearly identical burn scars across their eyes. Those that didn’t still had an expression of deep sadness and longing. They all said, without a single word spoken, ‘Help us.’
The oculto man returned and set a cup next to her and began to fill it from a pitcher. Isra leaned in a fraction of an inch. “Why did you give me this?” she whispered.
The man breathed deeply. “There are stories about Earth. They speak of that word. They say people fight so that they can have it.”
“Do you know what it means?” Isra whispered back.
Having filled the cup, the man held the pitcher in both hands. “They say that people there can work for themselves. That they can be with other people. They can serve those they love. Not just the…”
A door to the drinking hall flew open, slamming against the wall, and Celia marched into the room. The oculto Isra was speaking to turned and walked away as if nothing unusual was happening. Isra crumpled the scrap of paper and stashed it in the pocket of her brown jacket as Celia approached.
“Conselho wishes you to speak,” Celia snapped at her. “You must answer to the Rainha.”
Isra set down the skewer and looked up at her with confusion. “I do not understand. I did as the Rainha requested. I brought back the Cytherean woman and…”
“No more words. Come with me, please,” she said, in a stern tone.
Isra cast a quick glance around the room. The soldiers standing guard didn’t move, but she got a distinct feeling that they would if Celia required it. Isra stood up and started to follow Celia, who was already leading her out of the room at a brisk pace.
****
As Celia held the door to the Conselho chamber open, Isra saw the Rainha on her silver throne in between the two concave basins containing open flames and an arrangement of metal rods. The Elder women watched from their stands on either side of the Cytherean ruler. There was a much lar
ger crowd assembled on the benches near the front door than had been there during the previous session. Isra also felt more tension in the room, as if the air itself was being stretched so tight that it vibrated like a series of tiny strings.
Luciana knelt by the open flame with her hands clasped together, and her head bowed. The way her shoulders moved, she appeared to be weeping as she begged Isabel for mercy. The Cytherean ruler looked up just long enough to acknowledge that Isra had entered before turning her attention back to the pregnant woman kneeling in front of her.
“Luciana. Your crimes are great. But I feel a strength in you. I know you will bring a citizen to us. Cytherea will have need of them soon. Your child will be born and will train for Provacao. But you… I’m afraid you must lose your ability to fight. You must join the oculto.”
“Please! Please! Mercy, Rainha. Mercy!” Luciana screamed in both agony and sorrow.
One of the soldiers next to the Rainha put on a heavy glove and retrieved one of the rods sticking out of the basins. The tip glowed red hot as he moved around the flaming pit in the middle of the room.
“What is happening?” Isra whispered, grabbing Celia’s arm.
Celia sucked in a breath, but her eyes remained fixed. Only the smallest movements, the tension in her muscles and the suppressed grimace in the woman’s face, betrayed the sadness and revulsion that she was trying to keep from Isra. “When a citizen’s crimes against Cytherea are so great that they can no longer be tolerated among their people, she must be stripped of her rank. And… her ability to fight.”
Luciana started to get up, but two soldiers immediately grabbed her by the arms. The woman struggled and screamed as the man approached with the red-hot iron.
Isra hissed at Celia not even trying to contain her anger. “This…is this some tradition of Cytherea?”
Celia closed her eyes for a moment to hide her emotions again. “No. This is the Rainha.”
Isra’s mind raced to try and find some way to stop this barbaric treatment, but she couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t put her in danger as well. Her eyes met the Rainha’s over the open flame. In that moment, she flashed Isra the briefest smirk.
When the soldier was only a few meters away from the woman, the Rainha raised her hand. “No! Not now. For the sake of her child, return this woman to her house. Let her be with them until she has the child. If the child is strong enough to train for Provacao, she will have fulfilled her duty and be spared.”
The woman slumped in the arms of the soldiers, crying and muttering. “Sim, sim. Thank you. Thank you.”
The soldiers led her away, and Isabel turned her attention to Isra. “The woman from Earth. Approach and address Conselho.”
Isra breathed deep and approached the spot in front of the open fire. This had to be about Althea. Isra had returned without her, and she knew that the Rainha would use that as an excuse to pursue her own agenda, whatever that was. But she could talk her down. She could convince her that justice on Earth would be swift.
She knelt in front of the fire as she had seen others do and looked up defiantly at the Cytherean ruler. “I want you to know that Althea will be dealt with under the laws that govern Earth. She is my charge after all, and she was unaware—”
The Rainha stood up. “This does not concern the other woman from Earth. This is about one of the men. The soldier.”
Isra closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. “Viekko! Jayzus,” she whispered to herself. “What has he done?”
“The first messenger has just arrived from the lands beyond the wall. We do not have all the details as of now, but one thing is clear. The soldier from Earth led our soldiers into a trap far beyond the walls of Cytherea and then brutally and cowardly attacked and killed many of them. What explanation do you have for this?”
Isra stared at the flames in the pit in front of her. This was all going so wrong, so terribly wrong and she could sense it getting worse.
Isabel must have known that she couldn’t even process what she heard, much less respond to it. She waited, watching Isra from the other side of the flames and, once again, let the smallest of smiles creep across her face. Isra couldn’t imagine why, but she wanted Isra and Isra alone to know that all of this was part of her grand plan.
One of the Elder women stood up. “Cecillia; mother of nine citizens. I think I speak on behalf of the council when I say that this is an act of war. The people from Earth have infiltrated our ranks and attacked our soldiers. What other explanation can there be? This was meant as a first strike, and we should prepare ourselves.”
Another stood up before Cecilia's last words finished echoing in the chamber. “Estefania; mother of seven citizens. I agree. We have spent all this time worrying about Corsario beyond the wall. This is the real enemy now. The people of Earth are ready to attack Cytherea. It is time to ready ourselves for the greatest wars since the time of Maximilliano.”
“Sara; mother of six citizens,” said another woman, standing up. “We must respond quickly. Let these people from Earth know that we are not a people who will see their soldiers and their city disgraced without action. This woman has declared war on behalf of her people. Let us bind her in chains and let them come for her!”
As Conselho devolved into yells and curses, Isra covertly pulled up the sleeve on her brown leather jacket just enough to see the EROS screen and tried to access Viekko’s location. It indicated that it was searching for a signal for a few moments before the words ‘Signal not found’ displayed on the screen. Isra found it hard to breathe before she reminded herself that there could be hundreds of explanations. But, still, the terrible possibility that Viekko was dead would not go away.
The crescendo of noise in the room ceased, and Isra turned her attention to the front of the room as the Rainha raised her hand to silence the crowd. “This decision pains me, as I am sure it pains everyone in this room, but the honor of Cytherea demands nothing less. Take her. Send soldiers for the one in the ancient colony vessel and the one outside the city. Bring them here and make contact with their superiors on Earth. If they want to save their people’s lives, they will need to come fight for them.”
Isra stood up. “Rainha, this is madness. There need not be any more death. Let us go. We will leave this place and never return. But if you provoke a conflict with Earth, know that it is a war you cannot win.”
“All the more reason for them to attack Cytherea now. Let them come when we are prepared. Let them come when our spears are sharp, and our blades are raised in battle. Let them come when and how we want them to. Take her. Find the others.”
As the soldiers by the concave basins moved around the hearth in the center of the room and approached on either side of Isra, she closed her eyes and thought quickly. There was no talking to the Rainha anymore. The most important thing, the only thing they could do was to try to get away from the city. The soldiers attempted to take her by the arms, but she shook free of their grasp. “Then I need to speak with them,” she yelled. “My superiors from Earth need to hear my voice to know I am safe, or they will not come.”
The Rainha paused in front of her throne. “Do they care nothing for their people?”
The soldiers took her by the arms again. This time she couldn’t shake them free. “Not if they do not know that we are safe. If war is what you truly want, you will need me.”
Isabel thought for a moment. “Take her to Joana. Make her call to her people to send for their army. Bring the other man back here.”
With that, the Rainha marched out of the chambers. The two soldiers pulled Isra away from the hearth to carry out her orders.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The First CEO, Chad Signit, announced the formation of the Corporation Military on June 5th, 2101. Calling it, “…a security force for a new age in global politics. It is insurance that the forces of chaos and disorder never threaten the prosperity of all citizens of the world.”
Though propaganda at the time tried to sell the ide
a that the Corporation Military was nothing more than heavily armed security guards, contemporaries appeared to understand the truth immediately. A journalist that obtained documents containing details about the formation of new armed forces wrote, “I fear that when this mercenary force is turned loose on a city, the unfortunate residents will wish they had been simply bombed out of existence for there is no honor in these ranks, no sense of duty. Only a hunger for wealth and plunder not seen since the Mongolian tribes decimated half the Earth many centuries ago.”
-From The Fall: The Decline and Failure of 21st Century Civilization by Martin Raffe
You are ready?” Joana asked, standing by the main electrical panel.
Cronus knelt by an open access panel in one of the computer consoles. He reached into his bag to produce a small orb. He held it in his hand until it started glowing and then he released it. It hovered in place and cast a soft glow that helped light the darkness underneath the computer panel.
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