Read Origin of the Body Online
Authors: H.R. Moore
Austin’s funeral took place a week later in Kingdom, the full pomp and ceremony laid on, as was befitting a man of his status. Alexander and Helena had to go of course, but Alistair was notably absent and Anita opted to stay in Empire; the man had killed Bas, tried to kill her, and frankly she was glad he was gone. And she was not only grieving Bas, but distraught he’d taken a knife that was meant for her, especially one she’d had no idea was coming. What good was being a reader if she couldn’t detect a threat right under her nose?
‘Why didn’t I feel his energy?’ she’d asked Alexander as he’d tried to console her in the terrible hours that followed. ‘How did I not see him there? How was it that Bas, who wasn’t a reader, managed to react so quickly and push me out of the way, when I didn’t have a clue what was going on?’ Alexander had had no explanations, and nor did anyone else.
That night, Alistair and Amber had been called to the scene, along with an undertaker, who had removed the two bodies and cleaned up the blood. Amber left quickly, but Alistair stayed until he could bear Anita’s apologies no longer. ‘Anita, it wasn’t your fault,’ he said, tears in his eyes, holding Anita at arm’s length by her shoulders. ‘Bas would have done anything for you and there’s nothing we can do now to change what’s done. You put an end to Austin’s reign, so something good may yet come from this horrible mess.’ He’d hugged her and left, leaving Alexander with the futile task of trying to console her.
Cordelia had arrived home the following day and cleaned the kitchen twelve times before she realized it would do nothing to bring Bas back, nor wash away what had taken place in her kitchen. After that she’d joined Anita in silent mourning, taking Thorn for long walks or sitting quietly in the garden, wrapped up against the winter chill.
Bas’ funeral took place a week after Austin’s in the Body Temple in Empire. Alistair refused to let the Councillors and remaining Descendants process in behind the coffin, instead telling them they could sit amongst the rest of the congregation as would have been his son’s wishes. The funeral was low key, Bas’ favourite, rousing classical music accompanying his coffin both into and out of the Temple, Alistair, Rose, Anita, Alexander, Cleo, and a member of Bas’ band carrying the coffin, all clad in full length black robes with hoods. The coffin and Temple were abundantly decorated with Bas’ favourite wild flowers; purples, whites and greens covering every possible surface.
The funeral was short, Rose reading a poem and Alistair giving a moving eulogy that not only praised his son’s academic achievements at the Observatory, but also his steel and determination when it came to sticking up for what was right, especially at Council meetings. He finished by saying Bas would want everyone to continue that fight, that nothing had been more important to his son than stabilizing the energy; that was after all what he had died to protect.
They processed out, not a dry eye to be found, and Anita saw Gwyn slip out of the back of the Temple. She felt sorry for her. Bas had never introduced Gwyn to Alistair or Rose as his girlfriend, although of course they had known something was going on, and Anita realised how difficult that must be. She’d been so close to Bas in his last few weeks of life, yet was now entirely excluded from the grieving of his family. But then again, Gwyn hadn’t been to see Alistair or Rose since Bas’s death, and although Anita assumed it was because she didn’t want to impose, it was a bit strange.
Bas’ body was cremated, in accordance with his wishes, and his ashes scattered from the roof of the Observatory. Alistair, Rose and Anita did it together, a respectful silence falling over them as what remained of Bas fluttered away on the breeze, Rose leaving as soon as it was done; she had never much liked the Observatory. ‘See you at the wake,’ she’d said as she left, the death of their son having done nothing to bring Alistair and Rose closer together, something akin to hatred bubbling just under the surface of their energy.
‘Anita, there’s something I need to tell you,’ said Alistair, turning to face her as the last of the ashes disappeared, heading, Anita was glad to see, in the direction of the river.
‘What is it?’
‘There’s no easy way to say this,’ he said, his tone business-like, efficient, ‘so I’ll just tell you and you can ask me whatever questions you like.’
‘Okay,’ she replied, puzzled.
‘You’re the Body Descendant, not Gwyn.’
Anita took a deep breath and turned awkwardly away from him. ‘I know,’ she replied. ‘Helena told me. She told me the whole story about my parents; how they met in the Wild Lands when Jeffrey was there on Institution business, how Peter and my mother were swapped at birth, how my mother wanted to swap Gwyn and I, but Peter refused, and about how Helena betrayed my parents, which led to the fire at the Temple where they died.’
‘Why?’ he asked simply, this not at all what he’d expected.
‘Because she wants my help and it was the only way for her to regain my trust.’
‘You can’t possibly be planning to help her after all she’s done?’
‘I don’t think there’s much of an option not to,’ said Anita, dejectedly, turning back to look Alistair in the eye.
‘There’s always a way. Now that Austin’s gone, we’ll persuade Marcus to help you, Alexander and I find a way to return the relic.’
‘And what if we don’t find a way to do that in time?’
‘We will.’
‘You and I both know that’s highly unlikely, and anyway, I’ve already agreed to help her, and...,’ Anita paused, knowing what she was about to say was crossing a line.
‘And what?’ his eyes bore into hers with increasing intensity the longer her pause stretched. ‘Anita? And what?’
‘And you’ve already been helping too,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Bas became a member of the Institution a while ago and he and Anderson were working on finding a way to send the relic back. They couldn’t find anything that would send it back for real, but Bas thought if we could make it look like it had been sent back, that would buy us enough time to find a way to send it back properly.’
‘The energy slingshot?’ he asked, realization dawning. Anita nodded. ‘I don’t believe you. Bas would never have got involved with the Institution, he knew how much I hate them.’
‘He thought it was the only way, and he was enjoying the excuse to spend some time with you whilst you worked on his theory. He thought you enjoyed it too, what with everything else going on.’
‘I did enjoy it, but if I’d known what it was for, I would have put an end to it. You’ve got to leave the Institution Anita, we’ll find another way.’
‘I’m sorry Alistair, I can’t. I’m afraid it’s what Bas wanted and after what he did for me I owe it to him to see this through.’
‘Then I’m afraid this is where we part ways Anita. I’m sorry to say it, but you’ll have to learn the hard way how poisonous that group of people really is.’ Alistair left, leaving Anita to contemplate his words, but nothing he could say would change her mind; Bas had been committed to the energy slingshot, so she had no choice but to help bring it to life.
*****
Bas’ wake was held that night at The Island, and it got more than a bit out of hand. Bas’ band played, Cleo provided copious quantities of free alcohol, each batch of punch more lethal than the last, and the butcher from Temple Mews provided a hog roast for what seemed to be the entire population of Empire, although that wasn’t surprising given that food was so scarce. Anita avoided Rose, Gwyn and Alistair, instead opting to sit on the decking out the back for most of the evening with Cleo and Alexander, refusing to go inside, even though they were now firmly in the grips of winter and it was freezing.
Helena arrived late, never enjoying social occasions where she was likely to get stuck speaking to people she didn’t know, who invariably possessed only half a brain, and therefore could have nothing of interest to say. She spoke briefly with Rose, then Alistair, who quickly made it plain she wasn’t welcome, before mercifully spotting Timi en route to the exit. She followed him out, happy she’d done the dutiful thing but that she could also elicit some excuse about having to speak to the Spirit Leader if anyone commented on how she’d stayed for such a short length of time.
‘Didn’t think a wake would be your kind of social occasion,’ she said to Timi’s back, as the bar door slammed closed behind her.
‘Right back at you,’ came his patronizing drawl.
‘How long are you here for?’
‘I haven’t fully decided. I’ll attend the Crowning and the Chase, assuming they have one, and after that, it all depends.’
‘Oh? On what?’
‘On how your plans go to send the relic back.’
‘I see,’ Helena smiled, ‘so you know about that.’
‘You thought I wouldn’t find out? I’m your handler, not to mention the Spirit Leader, of course I know.’
‘I knew someone would tell you eventually.’
‘Yet you tried to hide it from me anyway.’
‘I don’t think I’m the only one hiding things these days, am I?’
‘Really? How delightful. Who else has a secret?’ Timi’s eyes were alight with the game they were playing.
‘Don’t toy with me Timi. The rest of the world is on the brink of starvation, yet you’re stockpiling resources and have not once complained of a lack of food. In fact, all the monks you brought with you look positively chubby.’
‘I’ll make a mental note to put them on a diet,’ he said, dryly.
‘What are you up to? How come you have enough food to go round when the rest of us barely know where our next meal is coming from?’
‘I have money.’
‘So do I, but money alone isn’t enough in this climate, and there’s something different about you too...something’s changed.’
‘Well I suppose it’s just a case of survival of the fittest. Those who can best fend for themselves will find life not too challenging, whereas those who can’t will have to tell a different story.’
‘You’re stockpiling resources that belong to everyone; they’re not yours to hoard.’
‘Says who? I say they should go to those willing to stand up and take what they want.’
‘We won’t let you fatten yourselves on the Cloud Mountain whilst the rest of us go hungry.’
‘Fighting talk Helena. Firstly, we’re not doing anything wrong. All we’re doing on the mountain is utilizing the resources available to us as best we can. We may be doing that better than the general population, but then we don’t have to deal with the petty politics of the Descendants, so we’re better able to look after ourselves. Secondly, I’d be happy to show you around the Cloud Mountain personally to give you some ideas as to how you can better manage your own affairs. Thirdly, even if you did try to stop us, you would find it very difficult, so I suggest you direct your limited resources elsewhere.’
‘I can put barriers in the way of your shipments.’
‘No you can’t. Traders follow money, not politics, and you have bigger things to worry about here than what we’re doing on the Cloud Mountain. Goodnight Helena, a pleasure as always.’
*****
‘Marcus, I can only keep the business going for so long without your help. You’re the Descendant, not me, and your father wanted you to take over, that’s what he was training you for.’
‘So you keep telling me,’ said Marcus, enjoying the turned tables; Amber now having to wait for him to call the shots.
‘And we need to define our strategy. It’s only a matter of time before the rebels I saw in the Wild Lands attack; we have to be ready with a show of strength.’
‘Of course,’ he paused, pretending to be fascinated by a painting behind his father’s desk, the desk which now belonged to him, ‘they may decide not to attack given my father is dead. Their aim has been accomplished for them.’
‘Don’t be naïve. They want change and Austin’s death alone won’t give them that, they want to overthrow the whole system as we know it.’
‘You say that like it would be the end of the world,’ Marcus replied lazily, less because that’s actually what he thought, and more because it was a sure fire way to wind Amber up, ‘and never call me naïve,’ he said, his eyes flashing a warning that made her hesitate.
‘Of course it’s your decision, I’m just advising you as I did your father. If you want to keep your position, you need to do something. There are farms to run, taxes to collect, an army to feed and pay, not to mention the Institution and the rebels who will sooner or later become a problem. Have you heard anything more about the Institution’s plan to stage a return of the relic?’
‘Not yet,’ he said, bored of Amber sounding like a broken record, ‘but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.’
‘And? What will you do?’
Marcus fixed her with unamused eyes, ‘I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,’ he said finally. ‘For the moment, just keep running everything as you did before.’
They congregated in the valley where the ball was to be held several nights later. There were steep hills on either side hemming them in and an angry young river that wove its way through the middle, white froth bursting upwards as it hit rocks with mighty force. The valley was thirty five miles outside of Kingdom, slopes on either side that in the summer were lush and green now frost covered, making the contestants feel cold just looking them as they huddled around waiting for the Descendants to arrive. Alexander had suggested Anita arrive with him, but she’d refused; she couldn’t think of anything worse than providing more gossip fodder to the crowd.
Last time she’d stood next to Bas before the Chase, but now she stood by herself, isolated from the other mingling contestants, trying to ignore that they were, without exception, sneaking looks at her when they thought she wasn’t looking.
The Descendants eventually arrived, robed and chaperoned by a gaggle of Councillors, who were all vying for position within the uncomfortable group. As was tradition, Alexander and Peter would not be competing, their status as ruling Descendants affording them the luxury of adjudicating rather than the pressure of competing. Gwyn and Marcus on the other hand, by the same force of tradition, were propelled to participate, and more than that, were to carry the weight of expectation to finish, if not first, then very near the top of the pack.
Anita shot Alexander a protracted look as he removed his hood and motioned both the contestants and crowd into silence. He hadn’t given Peter the opportunity to lead proceedings, assuming that role himself, and as expected, Peter had meekly complied.
‘Descendants, Councillors, contestants, children of the Temples of the Mind, Body and Spirit, I welcome you here today to the Chase that commemorates and celebrates the life of the Mind Descendant, Austin.’ Alexander’s tone was business-like; he was not solemn, nor did he engage in the usual pomp that went along with an event such as this. The circumstances around Austin’s death had, thank the Gods, not made it into the public domain, however this did nothing to compel Alexander to say any more about Austin than was absolutely necessary. He was certainly going to avoid anything that might be construed as a compliment, the funeral had been infuriating in this regard, and Alexander wouldn’t stand by and let that happen again. The man had been nothing short of evil, and even if he couldn’t tell the people this, he wasn’t going to lie to them.
‘Today, the challenge is for our contestants,’ he lingered on Anita as he scanned the participants, his energy jumping as he took in her battle ready stance, ‘to be the first to either catch the runner who set off from here thirty minutes ago, or, if no one should succeed in this, then to be the first contestant to make it back to the relic. The runner you will be chasing has taken the quickest route back to Kingdom, so it would be prudent to try and track him, if you are able.’
A murmur went up from the crowd; this format had never been used before and there were whispers of ‘I hope no one catches him or we’ll miss the end,’ and ‘not sure about this.’ Alexander smiled inwardly; so funny how people always find a way to hate change, he mused.
‘Contestants, please take your positions.’ As he said the words, several Councillors stepped forward. Two went to Marcus and Gwyn, taking their robes, Marcus looking gaunt and tired as he handed his over, and several others ushering the contestants to the start line, lining them up so Gwyn and Marcus had the best spots right at the front. ‘You should follow the river downstream until you come across two paths leaving the bank. At that point, you must decide which direction you will choose.’ Then, abruptly, not allowing anyone time to prepare, he said, ‘I declare this Chase open,’ bellowing the word ‘open’. The contestants jolted into action, Anita sprinting off behind Gwyn, who had, somehow, quite shamelessly jumped the gun, Anita rolling her eyes.
They followed the river downstream for a couple of hundred meters before two paths split off, one gaining a little ground, but broadly appearing to follow the river, and the other taking a more severe path up the incline and disappearing over the top of the hill to their left. Gwyn slowed as she surveyed the options, Anita needing no such indulgence, spotting the dents of footprints along with patches of frost free bracken on the higher path. Anita raced past Gwyn, easily dealing with the change in incline, putting her head down and focusing only on placing one foot in front of the other.
All the others followed her, so even if she had been wrong, so would everyone else be. The thought gave her a brief smug moment as she reached the summit, to face another choice of paths. It went on like that for miles; inclines, steep declines, forks where they were presented with two, three and sometimes four paths, several of which had rudimentary dummy trails laid to try and throw the contestants off the right path. Some of them succeeded, especially when it came to those contestants who were now out of sight of the leading pack, but those who had managed to stay with Anita were for the most part just following her, some of them suspecting Alexander had told her the route beforehand. Of course he hadn’t, even if he’d tried to, not that he ever would have, Anita wouldn’t have let him; there was no joy to be had from winning through cheating.
Several exhausting hours later they were nearing Kingdom, the spires and walls clearly visible, only Anita, Marcus, Gwyn and a couple of young Councillors now left in the leading pack, when they caught sight of their prey. He was running in a straight line for the city across the flat open fields that surrounded the capital, no more twists and turns, it was simply a straight sprint for the finish. Anita upped her pace, wanting nothing more than to get this over with and to put as much distance between her and Marcus as she could. Since Austin’s death he had barely been seen by anyone, and the venom he was directing towards her had the effect of sucking the energy out of her, leaving her feeling emotionally drained and lifeless. She wanted to scream at him that Austin had been the one who had sought her out and tried to kill her, that Bas’ death was all Austin’s fault, but she could barely bring herself to look at him, let alone muster words to speak.
She was pulled back from her thoughts by a cry from behind and the sound of someone tumbling to the ground. She slowed and turned her head to see what had happened, but as she did, a force thumped into her, sending her and whoever it belonged to careering forwards. She landed hard on her side, the full weight of one of the Councillors on top of her, the next sensation a shocking pain in her stomach as someone’s foot connected with her body. She looked up, dazed, to see Gwyn and Marcus standing over her, hatred seeping out of them like a toxic smoke as they looked malevolently down at her. The Councillor rolled off and climbed to his feet, continuing towards Kingdom, leaving the three of them without so much as a backward glance. Anita tried to get up, but a foot connected with her lower back, another shot of pain searing through her.
‘What are you doing?’ she spluttered, her brain fogged by shock and confusion.
‘What are we doing?’ Gwyn repeated, mocking Anita with everything she possessed; her eyes, her tone, her body language, as she swung another foot into Anita’s stomach. ‘Don’t you think the question is more what are you doing?’
Anita curled over, grasping her stomach, gasping for air, waiting for the pain to subside at least a little before replying. ‘What do you mean?’ she could only manage a whisper, at the same time contemplating the best way to gain an advantage over her attackers.
‘Don’t be coy now,’ said Gwyn, warning Anita with her tone as she reached down and grabbed a handful of her hair, beginning to twist as Marcus placed his foot on her side, applying enough pressure to the injury there to make her realise she’d be foolish to retaliate. ‘You murdered the ruling Mind Descendant and you have the gall to show up at the Chase commemorating him? You thought we’d just sit back and let you win?’
‘Austin killed Bas,’ she said slowly, as though this might be a simple misunderstanding where they didn’t know the real truth. ‘He was trying to kill me. Was I supposed to just let him?’ Her confusion was fast turning to raging anger and it was taking all her self-control not to fight back. The Institution needed Gwyn and Marcus to cooperate if they were to stand any chance of carrying out Bas’ experiment, which meant she couldn’t give them any new reasons not to help.
‘Liar,’ said Marcus quietly, increasing the pressure through his foot.
Anita cried out in pain, turning her head to look at Marcus, his chocolate eyes so beautiful yet so vulnerable, a hesitance there that showed this wasn’t his idea. ‘You know I’m not lying,’ she said to him softly, refusing to remove her eyes from his. ‘You know what your father and Amber are capable of. You saw what they did to me. You rescued me from them.’
Gwyn slapped her hand hard across Anita’s face before springing to her feet and taking several erratic paces away. ‘You expect us to believe your bullshit?’ she spat, turning back to Anita and kicking her brutally in the shoulder. Anita cried out in pain and Marcus removed his foot. She curled herself further into the foetal position to protect her stomach and clutched her shoulder, reading the uncertainly that had crept into Marcus’ energy. He’d been caught up in Gwyn’s plan to put Anita in her place and his resolve was wavering.
‘You can believe what you want,’ jeered Anita, clenching her teeth against the pain, ‘but I killed Austin in self-defence, because he had just killed the man who was supposed to be your boyfriend,’ she couldn’t help herself; she might not be able to defend herself physically, but that didn’t mean Gwyn deserved to get off scot free.
‘Shut up,’ hissed Gwyn, giving her another kick, this one to her back, forcing her to arch backwards against the pain, ‘it’s all your fault. You’re the reason Bas is dead. You’re the reason Austin is dead. I never want to see you again, or the consequences will be severe.’ The threat was almost laughable coming from Gwyn, but Anita kept a straight face, not wanting to encourage further violence.
‘We need to go,’ said Marcus. ‘The others are catching us,’ he said, pointing to a group of people who’d crested the hill a few hundred metres behind them, ‘and one of us needs to win.’
‘You need to win,’ she said, to Anita’s surprise, almost adoringly. ‘Fine, let’s go.’ She went to kick Anita one last time, but Marcus stood in the way.
‘We’ve made our point,’ he said, looking down at Anita’s battered body. Gwyn, seeing the group behind them rapidly closing, didn’t argue. Instead she threw Anita a bitter look before launching into a run towards Kingdom, Marcus refusing to meet her eyes as he too ran away.
Anita struggled to her feet, pain shooting through her torso, face stinging from the contact with Gwyn’s hand. She was furious. She’d resolved not to go to the ball, but after that, she wouldn’t miss it for the world.
*****
Gwyn and Marcus arrived back at the relic first, the Councillors they’d recruited to help bring down Anita having waited obediently on the edge of Kingdom for them to catch up and overtake. Nobody had caught the runner they’d been tracking, but the crowds couldn’t have been happier, as this meant they got to see a race for the line, and they cheered vehemently as the two Descendants came into view. As planned, Marcus reached out and touched the relic first, and as he did it, the crowd gave another roar, a raft of ridiculous girls giggling and clapping wildly just behind the relic, vainly hoping he would notice them.
Gwyn rolled her eyes as she clapped Marcus on the back, ensuring she was the first to congratulate him. He smiled ecstatically up at her, just as he was supposed to, but Alexander could read the trepidation and regret in his energy, and that coupled with Anita’s non-appearance filled him with fear.
Alexander approached his fellow Descendants and warmly and publically congratulated Marcus, pulling him into a celebratory embrace, but as he held Marcus to him he whispered threateningly in his ear, ‘where is she and what did you do to her?’ Marcus tried to pull back, but Alexander held him firmly in place. Marcus said nothing and Alexander had to release him so as not to raise suspicions, but as he did he whispered, ‘I hope for your sake she’s alright.’
Alexander turned to congratulate Gwyn on coming second, Marcus trying to regain his composure as others bustled around him, offering him congratulations and refreshment, and a Councillor offering him back his cloak. Gwyn shot him a puzzled look, not the only one to notice his subdued demeanour, but Marcus looked away, sick to the stomach at what they’d just done.
*****
Alexander conducted the prize giving as the stragglers crossed the line, presenting Marcus with an engraved brass plate. It was nowhere near as extravagant as the energy metre Anita had won as victor of the last Chase, but Alexander considered this a more fitting prize given the problems the world faced. There was a tension that more than just Alexander could feel; like dry kindling on a scorching hot day which at any moment might spark alight. However, what might set this gathering on fire Alexander had no wish to find out, so he quickly concluded the presentation and encouraged the crowd to disperse, quietly instructing the Descendants and Councillors to immediately vacate the area. They got away without incident, but Alexander knew it had been a close run thing. Since Austin’s death there had been a lull in the demonstrations and direct action, but Alexander could sense it was only a matter of time before it kicked off again, and this time it would be worse than it had been before.