Fracture (The Chronicles Of Discord Book 1)
Page 2
“We considered that you would enjoy a few moments rest before joining us for the greeting meal that has been prepared.”
“Thank you, it would be appreciated,” responded Senator Burton.
Ten of the eleven councillors placed their hands over their hearts and inclined their heads before moving away, their robes whispering against the glittering black floor. Councillor Ladron and the young woman were the only ones left behind. Corbani Va Dic Ladron smiled and gestured towards one of the lifts.
“May I ask for your first impressions of our country, Senator Burton?”
Ben looked up from the fascinating illusion of the ground floor seeming to disappear beneath his feet as he shot upward. His father glanced around the surroundings with indifference before allowing his eyes to rest on Councillor Ladron.
“It’s very different from the Free Nation,” he answered.
Ben hid a smile.
Councillor Ladron had not been expecting such an unimpressed response and it took him a few moments to regain his balance.
“And you, Ben, what are your thoughts?” he asked pleasantly.
Ben stiffened at the over familiar use of his first name and gazed at Councillor Ladron somewhat hostilely. Corbani Va Dic Ladron seemed to sense that he had said something inappropriate and turned to the young woman, asking a question that Ben didn’t catch and receiving an immediate reply that he didn’t hear either. Councillor Ladron turned to face Ben, laying his hand over his heart and inclining his head.
“Forgive me, Mr. Burton, I didn’t mean to offend you. It is customary in our culture to use given names without it being considered a liberty. The term ‘Mr.’ has not been used in our lands for over a century.”
Ben forced himself to relax and smile even though he was pretty certain that Councillor Ladron had purposefully tried to make him feel small and unimportant.
“Then you won’t mind me calling you Corbani?”
Councillor Ladron stiffened, assuring Ben that he’d struck a nerve. He heard a gasp and turned to his father, worried that he’d overstepped his mark. However Senator Burton was trying to contain a smile and was far from shocked. Then it struck him that it must have been the woman.
Her eyes were wide open, meeting his without flinching. Ben took a mental note of the fact they were blue tinged with grey, particularly beautiful. After a few moments she regained her composure and was staring at the floor again.
“It is not — customary — to call Councillors by their given names,” replied Councillor Ladron tightly.
“No?” Ben managed to look innocently bewildered. “Your customs are a little confusing. I dare say I’ll get the hang of them eventually.”
Councillor Ladron forced a smile and stepped out of the lift.
Their quarters, when they finally reached them, consisted of a two bedrooms connected by a large sitting room. The outside wall of the lounge was made entirely of glass, giving a truly spectacular view over the city.
“I must leave you now as there are things I must attend to but I hope these quarters will suit your needs. If you have any requirements Astra will see to them.”
Councillor Ladron placed his hand over his heart and inclined his head before leaving the room.
“The view is spectacular,” remarked Senator Burton eventually, wandering over to the window. Ben joined him, taking in the endless stretch of black buildings and small green parks.
“A little too manicured for my taste,” he replied, reaching out a hand and touching the glass. The surface immediately darkened beneath his fingers, taking on a black tint. Ben drew back surprised and muttered and exclamation beneath his breath. He reached out again, touching the surface and it cleared immediately.
“Neat trick: I wonder how they do it.” Ben turned to the woman still standing in the middle of the room.
“Do you know how it’s done?”
Her eyes rose to meet his.
“The glass is embedded with micro-blinds; small rolls of metal invisible to the naked eye. When an electric current is passed through the glass the micro-blinds spring open, tinting the window. Your touch activated the sensors within the glass and started the current. When you touched it again that was the signal to stop the current, turning the window clear.”
She paused.
“This technology was first pioneered in The Free Nation’s lands, in the country then known as Canada.”
“Really?”
Ben looked over the woman again. How was it possible that she knew so much about his people’s history? The civil war that had torn through The Free Nation had destroyed most of their records. Great swathes of information had been lost and Ben felt uncomfortable with the thought that the Tula seemed to have access to that missing documentation.
“I see, very clever.” He sat on the arm of one of the overstuffed white sofas. “You’re Astra, right?”
She inclined her head.
“Correct, Mr. Burton.”
“And you're Councillor Ladron’s secretary?” Ben queried.
Astra nodded.
“Yes, however this term is no longer in use; we are referred to as subsidiaries.”
Ben nodded, but there was still a frown on his face.
“You seem to know a great deal about our culture Miss… ah…?”
“My designation is Astra Uel Ne Toban; it is customary for you to call me Astra.”
“Righto.” Ben smiled. “How come you know so much about our culture, Astra? I noticed that both times he was at a loss Councillor Ladron turned to you for guidance.”
For some moments Astra was silent and Ben could see that she was thinking quickly.
“Your customs are very similar to those in our history.”
Ben almost choked. No wonder she had taken so long to answer; essentially she was saying that the Free Nation was backward.
“I see. How come you know of these customs when they have obviously been completely forgotten by everyone else?”
Astra’s brow wrinkled faintly.
“It was obvious that there would be many differences in our etiquette. It seemed prudent to return to the time when our cultures were most similar and find a starting point that was familiar to us both.”
Ben couldn’t fault her logic.
“Your customs,” continued Astra, “they have not changed in so many years, why?”
The question was hesitant and she met Ben’s eyes with a clear forthright gaze that begged him not to take offence at the question.
“When The Free Nation came together in peace it was decided by the Board of Senators that there would be an observing of the old ways.”
He watched Astra carefully as she digested this information and for the briefest of seconds thought that she had smiled softly.
“I've been meaning to ask, what does Va Dic mean?”
Watching her expression Ben saw that she had not understood the question.
“When we were presented to the Councillors, they all have the words Va Dic between their first and last names,” he explained.
“It is customary,” responded Astra. “Va Dic is the statement of allegiance to the Tula government. Long ago when the Tomorrows United Leaders Alliance first came to power, the words were prefixed to the last names of all T.U.L.A. supporters. It is now a requirement by law that every citizen of the Tula Strongholds includes it in their name.”
Ben felt a shudder run the length of his spine. Then he frowned as he wondered why her words struck him as conflicting.
“All citizens?” he mused aloud. “But your name, as you stated it, is Astra Uel Ne Toban.”
He saw her eyes widen, just fractionally, and knew he had surprised her.
“That is so,” she answered. “It is a special dispensation.”
Ben took note of the evasive nature of her answer.
“A special dispensation? Why?”
He saw her flinch, the slightest stiffening of her shoulders that conveyed tension.
“I come from a line
that is… rare.”
“How so?”
For the briefest of moments Ben thought he saw blind panic flare in her eyes before they were again lowered to the floor.
“It is a very long, boring and tangled story that I could not explain with any degree of lucidity.”
She turned and faced Senator Burton.
“I will not intrude upon your time of rest any longer. Should you need anything else press the white button on the control panel by the door and I will return immediately. The black button will call security forces to the room should you find yourself threatened in any way.”
Astra placed her hand over her heart and bowed before turning and slowly leaving the room. Ben allowed himself to slip from the arm of the sofa and into its soft confines.
“Looks like we’ve found our first skeleton, Dad.”
“It does seem that way,” Senator Burton responded. “It was too much to hope this would be easy.”
Ben stretched lazily.
“Maybe, but…” He broke off, suddenly rising from his chair and crossing to where there was a desk set at an angle and facing the window.
Senator Burton’s briefcase had been placed on its glass surface and Ben set his finger to the sensor. It bleeped in acceptance and the clasps sprang open. From inside he extracted a notebook, two pencils, and a box of matches, taking them back to the glass coffee table that stood between the chairs. His father didn’t seem to see anything odd when Ben ripped two sheets from the notebook and passed one along to him. Senator Burton took the pencil and began writing on the paper.
You think we’re being watched?
Ben read the note quickly and set about writing a reply.
I don’t know but it’s probable that they could watch us without our being aware of it. It would be hard to resist.
Senator Burton nodded in agreement.
Always so cynical, Ben.
You were thinking the same thing.
“But I’m a bitter old man, you’re still supposed to be hopelessly blinded by rose tinted ideals at your age.”
Ben snorted.
“I don’t think I ever had any of those.”
Senator Burton considered his son’s offhand words for a moment. They were very true. Ben had always been a realist, seeing the world and its faults, and people and their faults, without fear. Most were too afraid to look at the truth of the matter, to examine every fault and imperfection unflinchingly. They seemed to think that if you didn’t acknowledge the bad things around you, then maybe they would disappear. However Ben was of the firm belief that it was only when you had faced a problem on all fronts that you could truly correct it.
Senator Burton felt a twinge of sadness.
It took most people a lifetime to become so cynical. Ben had never known anything different. He had accepted from childhood that people made the world what it was and that people, regardless of who they were, had agendas and some would do anything to reach their goal.
Senator Burton watched as Ben set fire to the pages that they had just written on. The flames spread upward leaving a thin grey ash behind that Ben crushed between his fingers, removing every trace of their conversation. Senator Burton had a sudden clear glimpse into his son's soul.
Ben was angry.
------
“What are they doing?” Corbani Va Dic Ladron glared from the viewer in front of him to where Astra stood respectfully at the side of his desk.
“Perhaps, Reverend Councillor, it is a custom,” she responded.
Councillor Ladron’s fist slammed onto the desk.
“What sort of foolish custom could it be?” he asked angrily, looking at the viewer again. “Plague of the Una: they’re using paper! What sort of barbaric country is the Free Nation that they still produce such primitive materials?”
“Mr. Burton said that their senators had decreed that there would be an observing of the old ways, Reverend Councillor.”
“There is a reason why they are ‘old’ ways,” barked Councillor Ladron. “What do you make of Mr. Burton?”
Astra considered the question for a while.
“He is alert and notices things.”
“A problem,” commented Councillor Ladron speculatively. “His attention must be diverted, must it not, Astra?”
“Yes, Reverend Councillor.” Astra bowed, placing her hand over her heart.
“You will use every means at your disposal to see that Mr. Burton is too busy to pry.”
“Yes, Reverend Councillor.” Astra bowed again, her hand pale against her jacket. Councillor Ladron turned his attention back to the screen.
“What was the meaning of the phrase Mr. Burton spoke.” His brow creased. “Something about finding a skeleton?”
“It means to find a peaceful welcome, Reverend Councillor.”
“I see.” Councillor Ladron continued to frown. “I do not like their strange customs, Astra; educate them in our own as quickly as you can.”
“Yes, Reverend Councillor.”
Corbani Va Dic Ladron stared moodily at the screen for some moments before issuing a terse command that the computer should enlarge the writing on the paper. The viewer flickered and the screen was immediately filled with the symbols that the Senator and Ben had written.
“Don’t tell me that The Free Nation is so backward as to still use hieroglyphs?” demanded Councillor Ladron.
“It seems to be one of the ancient languages, Reverend Councillor.”
“Do you know which one?”
“No, Reverend Councillor.”
“Then find out,” Councillor Ladron commanded irritably.
“Yes, Reverend Councillor.”
They fell into silence. Time passed and neither moved until eventually Astra bowed, the gesture designed to catch Councillor Ladron’s attention.
“What is it?”
Astra bowed again.
“Forgive me, Reverend Councillor, but it is time to attend the greeting meal.”
The Councillor nodded moodily.
“Go and see to the Senator and his son.”
Astra bowed and turned to leave the room but Councillor Ladron’s voice stilled her before she reached the door.
“Remember what I have told you, Astra: see that Mr. Burton is kept busy and teach both him and his father the correct etiquette for their stay here. Their ways offend me.”
Chapter Three
The Una
The room was large, its ceiling high and its three walls lined with the mellow warmth of wood. In place of a fourth wall there were six wooden columns that allowed the light breeze entrance. Steps led up to the structure and a low wooden table followed the line of the walls. It was before the table that the Una Headmen were seated.
There was complete silence, a tension in the air that fully communicated itself to the three men kneeling, their palms one on top of the other, elbows pointed outward and heads bowed. The news that they had just laid before the Headmen was not good and they were fully cognisant of the danger that their people were now in.
“There is no mistake, you’re sure?” asked the man seated at the middle of the table. He was old, his hair white but still retaining some of the thickness of youth. His skin was pale, finely lined like the pages of a well-used book.
“There can be no mistake Elder Headmen Amajit, if you permit it I will show the news broadcast.”
“The permission is yours, Official Mathu.”
Official Mathu turned slightly to one of the men seated behind him and nodded. The subordinate stood and walked to the far wall where there was a control panel. A matter of a few pushed buttons later and shutters were closing off the light entering the room between the columns. A 3D image wavered to life in the middle of the room showing a gleaming silver ship docked at the side of a canal. As they watched a group of people made their way down the gangway to the podium where the Tula High Council were sitting. The audio accompanying the video stated that it was the diplomatic envoy from the Free Nation.
&nbs
p; The focus changed, zooming in on the face of a grey haired man in a smart, dark grey suit whose features were set into a pleasant smile. The audio explained that the man was Senator Burton and the Una Headmen watched in silence as Senator Burton extended a hand toward Corbani Va Dic Ladron.
Councillor Ladron turned, bemused, and spoke to someone standing behind him, hitherto unseen. For a second her face was projected with startling clarity: smooth skin, downcast eyes and hair coiled intricately on the top of her head. A murmur of unease rippled around the room and the young man at the control panel abruptly shut the recording off.
The shutters lifted filling the room with light and showing the particularly rigid countenances of three of the men present.
One was Hyun Jae Uel Ne Sen, Headman to the people of New Paris, a man in his early sixties. His grey hair gave him an air of distinction and his oriental features still retained the handsomeness of his youth. The second was his son, Apprentice Headman Kai Uel Ne Sen. His mouth had thinned, lips turning bloodless and white. He reached out a hand to rest on the shoulder of the man sitting to the side and in front of him. The young man was hardly more than a boy but his robe proclaimed him Headman to the people of New Athens, Headman Rem Uel Ne Singh. At the touch of Kai's hand the shocked look ebbed from the boy’s face and some of his colour returned.
The silence became embarrassing.
“If the Tula forge an alliance with the Free Nation then their ability to win this war increases exponentially,” stated Elder Headman Amajit smoothly. “Therefore such an alliance must never come to pass.”
“What course should we take?” asked Headman Chopra. “An attack? Should we attempt to kill the Senator but place all suspicion on the Tula?”
A murmur of agreement rippled around the room.
The quiet voice of Headman Sen made itself heard over the sounds of discontent.
“Elder Headman Amajit, if I might be heard?”
“You may speak.”
“We must be careful how we oppose this alliance. The Tula will expect a response from us and will no doubt have prepared the diplomats from the Free Nation for any violent offensive that we might launch against them. It is of the utmost importance then that we do not strengthen the impression that we are a nation of extremists that they will have adopted already.”