“Like Breakers.” Oren shivered.
“Yes,” Khalil said flatly, “Only we called them Desiccants. Over time, their manipulation of gravity manifests in a permanent gravitational aura.”
“Which is why it feels like they’re tugging at you,” Oren realized.
Khalil nodded. “Come, we are nearly there.” With that, Khalil began jogging through the trees at a quick pace. It wasn’t long before they heard the sound of running water.
As they approached the pathway leading up behind the waterfall, Khalil slowed and turned to Oren. “Sa’di, there is one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“There is a mess in the storage room that requires your attention.”
Oren slumped. Not enough energy to practice gathering, but enough to clean up the pantry? “Yes, Sifu,” he muttered.
They made their way up the hidden curving stone steps and into the tunnel behind the waterfall. The gray metal security door at the back was closed. Oren arranged the small row of symbols embedded into the rock beside it. There was a click, and he pushed the heavy door open.
They moved further down the hall and into the common area.
“I will check on your progress shortly,” Khalil said, and sat beside the low burning fire pit at the room’s center. Smoke slowly meandered high up to the cavern roof, and escaped through a ventilation hole.
Might as well get this over with, Oren thought. He made his way further down the wide tunnel, and took the right branch where it split. The closed wooden door of the storage room awaited him there. He pulled it open and walked in. There were some toppled canisters of herbs, and several cans with different labels scattered on the floor. Oren picked up the one labeled ‘mushrooms’, and looked around. That’s odd. No other cans on the shelf were disturbed. In fact there wasn’t much of a mess at all. Strange that Khalil would want to ‘check my progress.’ He shrugged and began picking up the cans and replacing them on the shelf.
“You’re not Khalil.” Oren nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him.
He spun to find Magdalene, standing in the doorway. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his pounding heart.
“You’ve just now figured that out?” he asked, making no effort to mask his annoyance.
Magdalene stepped into the room. “Clementine informed me that Khalil wished to meet me here…” She pulled out a pocket watch and popped it open “…now.”
“Well Khalil asked me to clean up the pantry, so you will have to work around me,” Oren scowled and turned to finish as quickly as possible.
Suddenly the door to the pantry shut, and something large was dragged against it on the other side.
Magdalene let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes.
Oren’s hand went to his sword. “What’s going on?” he asked with alarm. “Is this a trap?”
“Of sorts,” Magdalene said calmly, seating herself on a nearby wooden crate. “It would appear that we were unwise to trust in the sincerity of our friends.”
“Clementine and Khalil? Why would they…Oh.” Oren crossed his arms. “This is ridiculous!” Oren walked over to the door and pushed on it. It didn’t budge. He hit it with the bottom of his fist.
“Indeed. Far more juvenile than I gave Khalil credit for. They can’t lock us in here forever. We’ll just have to wait them out.” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and began studying it.
“Great.” Oren huffed. He walked as far away from Magdalene as possible, which was about six feet, and sat on a crate of jarred preserves. After staring at the wall for several minutes, he began counting cans out of boredom. The room was so quiet he could hear the ticking of Magdalene’s pocket watch.
She shifted, turning the paper sideways.
Oren couldn’t help thinking of his old home. The memories were bittersweet, and at the moment, infuriating. They are gone because of her. Because of her selfishness, my parents are dead. His anger began to boil over.
“How can you just sit there like you haven’t done anything wrong?” He shouted.
Magdalene lowered the paper to her lap. “And how would you prefer me to sit?” she asked. After a moment her expression softened and she looked at Oren sadly. “Oren, you are young, but not too young to understand that the world is not painted in only black and white. Not every decision is binary, and—”
“They are dead because of you. Tell me that’s not true,” he dared her.
Magdalene looked at him for a moment before answering, “Yes, my decision led to their death, but—”
“That’s all I need to hear. You may not care that they’re gone, but I do, and—”
“Is that what you think?” There was anger in her voice. “That I don’t care that my family is gone? That my heart isn’t broken? There’s not a day goes by that I don’t think about them. I had no choice.” She was visibly upset. Oren was glad.
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to call them ‘family.’ Not anymore.”
Magdalene sighed. “Oren…I know that nothing I can say will ever make up for it, but I am truly sorry.”
“Sorry for what? Sorry you selfishly chose to save your own skin at the cost of Mom and Dad’s?” Oren turned away so she wouldn’t see him struggling.
“I am sorry you lost them, and I’m sorry it was my fault.” Magdalene bowed her head.
Silence hung in the room for what felt like ages.
“Tell me why you did it,” Oren said finally. As much as he hated to ask, he needed to know why their lives were stolen from them.
“If I had known…” she trailed off, then turned and focused on him. “Something horrible is coming, Oren. Something that could mean the end of humanity as we know it.”
He looked at her with his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed.
“Back in New Arcadia, my life was not as it appeared on the surface. Historical archival was really more of a hobby. My true vocation was as an agent within C-SEC.”
“I know, you were a seeker. You hunted down innocent people,” Oren said scornfully.
“I believed in my work,” Magdalene said matter-of-factly. “I thought I was helping to keep our civilization secure. As it turns out, the Ministry had been working toward the exact opposite at the very highest levels.
“Months before my own Ascension was to take place, I was tasked with tracking a recreant by the name of Delaja DeSakar. When I took the case, I thought the name sounded familiar. There was an unusual amount of pressure to find her as quickly as possible. It turned out she too had worked for the Ministry. She was an agent with alpha one clearance. That’s nearly the highest possible access. This is why they wanted her found so badly.
“When I finally did catch up with her, she did not resist capture. She simply handed me a file, and pleaded with me to keep it hidden somewhere safe. I of course dismissed it as a desperate attempt to escape justice. I set the folder aside, and eventually forgot about it. Several weeks later, I came across it again by chance, and out of curiosity, leafed through it.
“The contents were so outlandish that at first I was amused. But the more I read, the more I became convinced the documents were genuine. They described the Ministry’s intention to betray not only the New Arcadia citizenry, but our entire world. Tens of millions of people, Oren, killed, enslaved, or worse. A global event more devastating even than the Aeternum Wars. Something we could never come back from.”
Despite his anger, Oren had to recognize the gravity of her words.
“The documents described a structure, some kind of device that would ‘dramatically alter the face of the planet;’ the result of which would be a ‘more receptive environment’ for those aligned with the cause. I began digging as discretely as possible. If anyone had discovered me I would surely have been erased. It was around that time that I encountered Khalil.
“I was pursuing a lead on yet another recreant, Aldos Tragan. When I learned he had already left the city, I could not bring myself to report it. I left t
he records unaltered.”
Magdalene folded the paper she had been studying and placed it in her pocket. She stood and began pacing.
“On the eve of what was to be my Ascension, I learned of a complete set of plans for the device, along with their location; the office of the Chief Ward, Variant Marconas. I was faced with a choice. Try to escape, becoming that which I spent much of my life hunting, or accept my fate and allow humanity’s only chance for survival to disappear with me.”
She stopped pacing. “I was confident that my knowledge of seeker protocol would allow me to cover my tracks and escape without a trace. I even sought more…unconventional precautions. It was a risk, but one I believed was important enough to take.”
She stood for a moment, then looked at Oren with regret. “Had I known the Ministry had another set of protocols for monitoring its own operatives…things would have been different.”
She sat back down.
“But they weren’t, and you still left.” Oren spoke flatly. He was still angry, but the wind had gone from his sails.
“By the time I found out, it was already too late. You have to understand, Oren, I was devastated; but I refused to let their deaths be in vain. I risked going back to New Arcadia, and eventually found a way to reach a Ko’jin faction inside the city. I shared what information I had with an operative named Hatch Dewanji, who promised to dispatch his most capable agents to recover the plans. You can imagine my surprise when it turned out to be Clementine…a mere child…who had accomplished it. I believe the schematics we now possess outline plans for a device with the potential to bring our world to ruin.”
Another silence hung in the air.
Oren took a deep breath. “If everything you’re saying is true, why didn’t you warn us? We could have all escaped together!”
“There was no time, and by then I was under intense surveillance. Any attempt to warn you would have resulted in your death, and my own. I believed your best chance for survival would be my untraceable disappearance.”
“Well you were wrong, and as a result I watched them die.” Oren had enough. He stood and walked to the door. “Okay!” he yelled, “I think we’ve been locked in here long enough. I’d like to get out now please!” He pushed on the door, and it opened easily. Of course, he thought.
Oren made his way down the tunnel and around the corner to his room, where he collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. He was a jumbled mess of emotion. If what she said was true…they were all in very deep trouble. He forced himself to evaluate whether he’d have done the same in her shoes. He begrudgingly admitted that he couldn’t say, which was a point in her favor. He continued running over her story in his head, looking for inconsistencies, but there were none. Had it really been two years since they spoke at her celebration? It felt like a hundred. Her words rang in his ears as he drifted off.
“The coming winds bring small change, but great things come from small beginnings. Other things collapse of their own weight.”
***
Oren awoke to a knock at the door. He stretched and rubbed his eyes.
“Come in.”
Khalil opened the door and stepped in. “Excellent! You are awake.”
“I am now,” he muttered.
Khalil ignored the remark. “Come, it is nearly time for dinner. The yams will not chop themselves.”
Oren sat up, shaking off the grogginess. “Hey, you tricked me.”
Khalil paused at the door. “I did no such thing,” he objected with a sly smile, “I simply pointed out a mess in the pantry. I trust it’s taken care of?”
“Depends on which mess are you’re talking about.”
Khalil stepped in and shut the door. “I take it you are now aware of the circumstances surrounding the death of your parents?”
“Is it true?” Oren asked. “Did she really do it to fight the Ministry?”
Khalil pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat down. “I do not know the inner workings of her mind, but I can tell you that her explanation appears legitimate. It fits with my understanding of how events unfolded.”
Oren allowed himself to imagine for a moment what it would be like to have family again.
Khalil continued, “Only you can decide whether to allow forgiveness into your heart, Sa’di. Yes, it is easier to blame Magdalene. She is present, familiar, definable. A single point on which to place accountability. But often the easier path leads only to more pain. It was not by her hand that your parents’ lives were taken.”
“Not directly,” Oren interjected, “but they died because of her choices.”
“Would you have chosen differently, given the circumstances?”
He was unable to answer.
“Do not let your personal concerns cloud your view of our true enemy. Now more than ever before, you must remember this.”
“Yes, Sifu,” Oren looked down at his hands.
“Come, there is food to prepare.” Khalil stood and walked to the door.
“Khalil.”
“Yes, Sa’di?”
“…Thanks.”
“You are most welcome.”
19
The Supplication
Dinner that night was one of the best they’d had since bunking down in the caverns. Khalil had crossed paths with a white-tailed deer a few days ago, and the meat had finally aged enough to satisfy him. The aroma of roasting venison filled the common room. A side of boiled yams and warm mushroom soup finished off the decadent meal.
There was near silence as Khalil, Oren, Clementine, and Magdalene sat cross-legged around the fire, eating. At one point, Oren came up for air and saw that Clem was nearly finished.
“Wow Clem, I knew you could make things disappear but I never imagined you could do it so quickly!” Oren grinned.
Clem picked up a small pillow and hurled it at his head.
“Hey!” he laughed.
Magdalene cleared her throat and gave Clementine a stern look.
Clem looked down at her meal, stifling a smile. As soon as Magdalene looked away, Clem stuck her tongue out at her and made a face. Khalil pretended not to notice.
The last time they’d all eaten together, the room was filled with awkward tension. Oren couldn’t enjoy his food, and conversation was short and clipped. Now things felt different. It was as if some seal had been broken and they could all finally be themselves.
Magdalene turned to Clem, “Clementine, Khalil tells me you traversed one of Arcadia’s ferromagnetic dischargers during a disc inversion?”
“Disc inversion?” Oren interrupted.
Clementine turned to him, “Over time, the discs that hold up New Arcadia experience a natural polarity field reversal, causing them to attract on the side they once repelled from. Sensors detect these polarity shifts, and the massive disc flips before it can be drawn violently down to the lodestones beneath the surface of the planet.”
“…Huh,” Oren grunted.
Clem turned to Magdalene, “Yes. I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“How big are those things, anyway?” Oren asked.
“Approximately two miles in diameter,” Clem answered.
Magdalene chimed in before Oren could ask more questions. “How did you survive? There must be billions of joules of energy flowing through the disc.” She appeared genuinely interested.
“Hundreds of billions,” Clem corrected. “I survived by disabling the blade’s rotational actuator and power distribution units from the access panel.”
“I would imagine that an access panel to one of New Arcadia’s ferro-discs would be behind a significant security firewall?” Magdalene asked.
“You would be correct. I found a way around it.” Clem hurried on to the next part of the story. “Once the blades stopped, I leapt onto one and rode out the inversion.”
“Rode out the inversion,” Magdalene repeated quietly. “Remarkable.”
“From there I found an access panel and climbed through the central pillar to the top side of the disc. When
the system backup initiated, I rode the pillar’s platform back up and ran across the service bridge to the exit.”
Clem described everything plainly and without embellishment, but Oren could tell she was loving every second of it. He was glad for her.
The casual atmosphere continued until all had finished eating. They lounged, full and contented, on the soft rug and pillows surrounding the central fire pit. Khalil lit a pipe, and Oren leaned back against a large pillow. He noticed for the first time that there were tapestries on the walls. “Have those always been there?” he asked pointing. Oren sat up quickly. One of them depicted a desert scene. A massive creature appeared to be rising up from the sand. Its ancient, petrified face was turned up toward sky. A man stood before it, tiny by comparison, looking up at the beast. It was an incredible work of art.
“That thing is real?” Oren pointed at the tapestry.
Khalil answered, “There are some who believe so. It is a depiction of the desert god, Ahn Ket Suun. He is an integral element of Sahra’ theology.”
Magdalene stood up and walked over to a stack of books across the room.
“What does it mean?” Oren blurted out nervously.
“That is open to interpretation,” Khalil responded.
Magdalene returned holding open an ancient looking book. She read aloud from it.
When blood soaks the desert sand
And night enfolds the world
When the boundaries of existence
May yet soon become unfurled
The great god of desolation
Ahn Ket Suun, The Ancient One
Will cry out in lamentation
For the setting of the sun
And the yolk of condemnation
Borne by those who once lived free
Becomes a mantle of oppression,
Avarice, disharmony
Only when the land is broken
And the stars are turned to ash
Will the desert god be woken
For the end has come to pass
Qasida min Ahn Ket Suun
Adom Set, twenty-three hundred seventeen A.V.
Magdalene looked up.
Recreance (The Aeternum Chronicles Book 1) Page 24