Legacy of the Mind (20 page)

Alexander sat at Philip’s desk pondering the recent developments.  Anita had been distant since they’d returned to the house and he had no idea what to do about it, or indeed if he should try to do anything at all.  Maybe a healthy distance between them would be a good thing, although he couldn’t think of anything worse.  Then there was the key he’d found that was still bugging him, mostly because he didn’t know where to look next.  Alexander got up and started pacing (difficult as this was given the piles of books everywhere), to try to channel his frustration, but the books in his way frustrated him further until he was so wound up he kicked a stack over.  Needing something else to vent his anger on, he grabbed hold of the curtains and yanked them open, stupid idea not to let any sunlight in anyway.  Bloody Philip, he thought as light poured into the room for the first time in an age and the true extent of the mess became apparent.  For someone that had harped on about the ‘illuminating power of light’ and how wise the one who came up with the Spirit motto ‘look to the light’ must have been, he seemed to be quite a hypocrite.

Alexander’s frustration abated a little as a result of his reckless acts, so he stooped down to reassemble the pile of books he’d kicked over, then turned to redraw the curtains; it seemed disrespectful to overturn Philip’s wishes so soon after his death.  As Alexander snuffed out the last chink of light, he froze, an idea finding root in his mind that grew to become an epiphany.  ‘Look to the light’.   Alexander reached for the lamp on the desk and turned it over, what if the key unlocked a real light?  Philip had always loved it when the literal and metaphorical collided, so what if he’d taken the motto literally and the key unlocked an actual light?  Unfortunately, the lamp on Philip’s desk had a smooth base with no key hole to be seen, however, undeterred, Alexander inspected all of the lights in the study.  When none of them produced a result, he went to Philip’s old bedroom and inspected each of the lights there, but again nothing.  He finally tried the garden sheds, Philip had loved his garden, but here again no success; there were only single bulbs dangling dejectedly from the ceiling and nowhere to hide a hole for a key.

Feeling deflated, Alexander returned to the study and sat back down in his Grandfather’s leather chair.  ‘What does the key unlock you old sod?’ Alexander asked out loud, pulling the desk lamp towards him once more, hoping for some light-related inspiration.  He rested it on its side and re-inspected the base, silently questioning how else a lamp could hide a keyhole.  Finding no inspiration, he set it upright again, however as he was doing so, his fingers felt a tiny, almost invisible seam running around its base.  He paused before turning it onto its side once more and inspecting the seam.  The line ran all the way around and looked like nothing out of the ordinary, except on closer inspection, the colour of the base was very slightly different from the rest of it.  He tried to slip a finger nail into the seam to prize off the bottom part, however the join was too tight, so he tried twisting instead.  To his amazement, the base swung smoothly outwards from a point near the edge, exposing a second layer of brass below.  Alexander’s heart almost stopped as his eyes made out a perfect, key shaped hole in the centre of the newly exposed metal.  ‘By the Gods,’ he said out loud.  He reached into his pocket, retrieved the small key and inserted it into the hole.  He twisted lightly and the key turned easily in the lock, making a delicate clicking sound as a panel in the top of the lamp sprung open.  He gently swung the panel cover back, noting the exquisite craftsmanship required to conceal the compartment, and delicately retrieved the piece of folded parchment that was sitting inside.

Unable to contain his excitement, Alexander quickly unfolded the paper and held it up to the light to see what was written, moving his face closer to the paper to make out the words.  There were several lines of text and to his surprise, the first contained only one word, his name.

Alexander,

Remember the lessons from Philip & Fred.

Be a good scholar.

Jeffrey will help you unlock the light.

Destroy this note when you have memorised what I have said.

I have faith in you.

Philip

He felt suddenly a bit sick.  How had Philip known he would find this, why had he written it, what did it mean, and why had he gone to such pains to hide it so that it would be so difficult to find?  As far as he could see, there was nothing here that could be considered contentious.  Philip & Fred were nicknames that Philip had used for two famous children’s authors.  They had written a book of fairy tales that Philip had read to Alexander when he was young.  The stories were varied, but usually contained a moral message, similar to most other books for children.  Philip’s favourite story had been about a princess who had been banished by her father, the King, as he had gone mad when a group of powerful sorcerers had come to court.  The story was about the princess’ quest to retake her rightful position and rid the land of the evil sorcerers, which of course she did.  As in every other fairy story, in the process she found her prince and the story finished, as usual, with them living happily ever after.  Alexander stiffened as Austin’s final words to Christiana came flooding back to him, ‘we are the only two left that know the truth now that Philip has gone’.  Philip had known the truth about Christiana’s bloodline.  Was that what Philip was talking about here?  Could Anita be considered the princess in the story?  Was that the point Philip was trying to get across?

The second line was clear enough, Philip had often used the words ‘be a good scholar’ and had always meant that one should question everything as good scholars do, even the facts we think we know for certain.  What Alexander was supposed to ‘be a good scholar’ in relation to however, he had no idea.  The third line was confusing.  Who the bloody hell was Jeffrey and why, or more to the point how, would he be able to help ‘unlock the light’ and what did that even mean anyway? Alexander racked his brain, but could think of no one he knew called Jeffrey, either in the real world or in a story book.

What Philip meant by ‘I have faith in you’ and why he wanted Alexander to destroy the note seemed to Alexander cryptic and possibly a little melodramatic, however, reasoning it was probably for the same purpose that Philip had hidden it so well, Alexander thought it would be prudent to follow his instructions.  He picked up the note and took it to the fireplace, making sure that he both remembered what it said and that he hadn’t missed anything.  He then picked up a match from the mantelpiece, lit it and set the paper alight.  He held onto the parchment for a few seconds before placing it in the fireplace, waiting to ensure there was nothing left but ash before turning to one of the shelves near the desk and picking up an old, worn book.  This seemed like a good moment for Alexander to remind himself of the stories of Philip & Fred.

The trip back to Empire was subdued.  Cleo had, for the first time all weekend, stopped talking and was lightly dozing with her head propped against the window.  Bas was silently staring out, watching the scenery go by and presumably contemplating all he had learned and discussed with Anderson over the last two days.  Anita was sure they would see each other again, she had never seen two people get on so well after such a short acquaintance. 

Anita had been trying her best to avoid speaking to, looking at, and certainly being alone with Alexander.  She was so confused about what she should do, what she felt for who and how she should proceed, so she too spent the journey looking out of the window, feeling a little empty as she considered her options.  Alexander was desperately trying to glean anything he could from her energy, but it was as steady as a rock, not giving anything away.  He was fighting an internal battle of what to do next, but now, in a car full of people, was certainly not the time for action.

The problem as Anita saw it was that she obviously had feelings for both Marcus and Alexander, her energy reacting distinctively to each of their special allures.  Marcus was for the most part fun and care free, flirtatious and frivolous in a way that Alexander could not be.  After all, Alexander was a ruling Descendant, whereas Marcus was yet to assume the heavy burden of responsibility, living instead under the ominous cloud of his power hungry father.  Alexander seemed to carry around with him a weight, possibly as he had some understanding of the perilous position the world was in and that it was his duty to address it.  Marcus seemed light as a feather, as though there was nothing in the world that should be worried about with any kind of gusto.  Whereas Alexander was closed and protective of himself, Marcus had opened up to Anita, told her about his family and to some extent discussed his past.   On the other hand though, Marcus was a protective person who’d already become possessive of Anita and it was wholly possible that he could get worse over time; what if he did turn into Austin?  At least Alexander wasn’t trying to force her into a relationship with him, he was trying to do what he thought was best for her, but the way he was doing that was by staying away from her, so maybe his feelings weren’t that strong after all.  Anita silently pondered all the way back to Empire, but felt more confused at the end of the journey than she had at the beginning.

They arrived back in Empire and dropped Bas off first, then Cleo, Anita feeling Alexander turn to look at her when they were finally alone in the car, Alexander glad of the closed glass screen separating them from the driver and Anita annoyed that it wasn’t open.  ‘Is everything alright?’ Alexander asked nervously, trying to hide his uncertainty.

Anita turned to look at him and searched his glorious blue eyes.  ‘Not really,’ she replied evenly, dropping her eyes to her lap, surprised at her honest response.  ‘I think I need some time to work all this out.  I’m confused, I have no idea what to do.  I have feelings for Marcus, I feel guilty and I don’t want to hurt him,’ she paused and looked out of the window before meeting his eyes again, ‘but I don’t want to hurt you either.’  A horrible thought suddenly erupted in Anita’s head and her eyes widened a little, ‘sorry,’ she said, her cheeks reddening, ‘that is making the presumptuous assumption that you feel anything for me…’  Luckily at that moment, they pulled up outside Cordelia’s house and Anita made for the door.  As she swung the door open, Alexander grabbed her hand, gentle tingles spreading underneath her skin, so she turned and looked back at him.

‘Your presumptuous assumption is correct,’ he said huskily, whispering so the driver, who was now unloading the bags, couldn’t hear.  A car turned into the end of the road and in the twilight Alexander recognised it as one of Austin’s.  He begrudgingly let go of Anita’s hand, ‘looks like you have company,’ he said bitterly, nodding in the direction of the oncoming vehicle.  She turned to see the car stop and Marcus’ long, lean body throw open the door and move rapidly in her direction.  ‘See you soon I hope,’ said Alexander quickly, as Marcus happily reached his target and protectively took hold of her hand.

‘Alexander,’ Marcus nodded curtly, clearly indicating that he would take things from here.

‘Marcus,’ Alexander nodded back, pulling the car door closed and stealing one last look at Anita before his driver pulled away.

As soon as Alexander’s car moved off, Marcus turned so his body faced hers and kissed her lightly on the lips before saying, ‘time for you to get changed, we’re going to a party.’

Anita’s energy lifted immediately and she smiled up at Marcus, exasperated at his order yet excited to see where they were going.  ‘Are we?’ she asked, reproachfully.  She wanted to make him work at least a little.

‘Yes,’ he confirmed unwaveringly, flashing his eyes fearlessly.

What the hell, she thought reaching up and stealing a flirtatious kiss, before turning and sauntering towards the house, ‘then you’d better tell me where we’re going so I can find something suitable to wear.’

The following morning Anita woke early and made her way to the garden for her usual yoga session, however after a couple of minutes it was clear that her mind wasn’t going to let her concentrate, vivid flashbacks of the previous night rudely interrupting.  She decided to sack in the yoga in favour of something more vigorous, so she donned her running trainers and headed for the river.  As she ran, she contemplated, revisiting the conundrum that had been preoccupying pretty much all of her conscious thought for the last two days; Marcus or Alexander?  Last night had been so much fun; they’d gone to some Councillor’s daughter’s 25th birthday and had danced for hours.  Marcus had ignored everyone but Anita for the whole evening, much to the annoyance of all the female guests, as well as the Councillor hosting the event, who had kept trying to find reasons for Marcus to dance with his daughter.  The only thing that had put a slight dampener on the evening was that Gwyn had been at the party too and had made a snipe at Anita as she and Marcus passed, not to mention the negativity that Anita could feel in Gwyn’s energy towards her.  Marcus was oblivious to it and when Anita had brought it up he’d, unhelpfully, suggested she was paranoid.  How could men be so blind when it came to the relationships between women?  It never failed to amaze Anita how they could ignore what was right in front of them.

After the party, they’d walked along the river bank back to Cordelia’s house, dancing as they went and pausing every so often to kiss in the starlight.  Marcus had brought up the weekend, clearly unhappy about the trip, although he’d struggled a little to find the best way to broach the issue.  Eventually he’d settled on warning Anita off Alexander, saying it was bad enough she had to have lessons with him, but weekends away just went too far.  At that point he’d reminded Anita of a pompous, puffed up bird, his feathers all ruffled.  He told her that next time, she should let him show her Kingdom as, unlike Alexander, he really knew the city and the sights to see.  Anita had distracted him by saying she’d seen his home, telling him how enchanting she thought it was, which luckily had thrown the conversation in a new, more positive direction.

The conversation had been light hearted and fun for the rest of the walk, until they’d reached Cordelia’s gate, where Marcus had suddenly turned serious, kissing Anita meaningfully and hinting in every unspoken way he could muster that she should invite him to stay.  She hadn’t taken the hint, but instead had thanked him for a fun evening, given him a lingering yet firm goodbye kiss, then turned and made her way inside.

Anita snapped out of her day dream to find herself at least five miles further along the river than she had expected, so turned around and headed back in the direction she had come, her mind switching back to what she should do next.  She felt guilty about Marcus and Alexander and knew at some point she was going to have to make a decision.  Marcus would only take her seeing Alexander for so long before he found a way to put an end to their lessons, and Alexander couldn’t be expected to continue as they were for an indefinite period, and it wouldn’t be fair on him even if he were happy to.

The problem was that Marcus was more fun than Alexander, but Alexander was interested in the energy and the position of the world and all the things Anita was fascinated by and opinionated over.   But then maybe Alexander would lighten up if he wasn’t so worried about the danger posed to her by Marcus?  One thing she had decided for certain was that she didn’t want to spy on Marcus for the Institution.  He might not be perfect, but he didn’t deserve that and the Institution sounded like an extremely shady organisation.  It pained Anita to think that she would lose the opportunity to find out more about her parents, but she’d lived this long without the knowledge, so she reasoned she could probably go on living without it, and maybe some research into Helena’s background would throw up a few leads.  She decided to tell Helena at the earliest available opportunity.  In fact, she wondered, where had she been anyway?  It wasn’t like Helena to be so lax about getting an answer.

Anita arrived home, showered, changed and then headed to the Body Temple.  There was no time like the present, so now seemed as good a time as any to give Helena her decision.

As luck would have it, Anita didn’t have to look for Helena at all, she bumped into her just outside the Temple.  ‘Anita, hi,’ said a surprised Helena.  ‘Funnily enough I was just coming to find you.’

‘Great minds think alike,’ smiled Anita.  ‘I was coming to find you too.  I’ve considered what you said,’ she continued quickly, before Helena had a chance to intervene, ‘and I’ve decided that I can’t do what you asked.  It’s simply not fair on Marcus, regardless of who his father is.’

Helena paused before replying, giving Anita a piercing look that reminded her of a school teacher, before seeming to soften, her internal dialogue warning her that meeting Anita head on was not the way to go.  The Spirit Leader’s words came back to her, ‘I know your natural reaction is to bully her into it, but she won’t respond well to that, she’s a lot like you, you see.’

‘I’d like to show you something.  Do you have time to come with me now?’ asked Helena quietly, her response taking Anita off guard.  It was unlike Helena to ask so nicely, she usually assumed that nobody had anything better to do than what she wanted.

‘Of course,’ replied Anita, an inquisitive look painted across her face, ‘what do you want to show me?’

She gave Anita a frank look, ‘it’s better for you to see for yourself.’

Anita knew there was no point in arguing, so she nodded, ‘lead the way.’

Helena led Anita to an energy car and climbed into the driving seat, Anita taking position next to her in the front.  Helena fired up the car, tutting as she noticed one of the lights on her dashboard flashing, but in her usual, brisk fashion ignored it, she couldn’t be less interested in cars or their various problems.  Helena drove out of Empire into the countryside beyond, travelling in silence as neither knew quite how to broach the awkward subject in between them; Anita’s parents.

After only a few miles, Helena turned onto a small, almost hidden track which wound its way to a large but rundown farm house.  They reached the house and Helena stopped the car and got out, swinging the squeaky door closed behind her, gesturing for Anita to join her.  By the time Anita had caught up, Helena was half way across the yard, heading for a colossal storage barn.  She got there and pulled the enormous door open on its runners, signalling that Anita should have a look within.

Anita peered into the relative dark inside, waiting for her eyes to adjust, but unless she was missing something, it looked like there was nothing there to be seen.  ‘I’m not sure I understand,’ she said hesitantly, turning to look at Helena.  ‘There doesn’t appear to be anything in there.’

‘And that is precisely the point,’ she replied bluntly.  ‘Usually at this time of year this barn would be full of grain, but since the news of Christiana’s death, crops have started to fail, fishermen have reportedly found dead fish floating in the rivers and lower yields in the sea, and as you know from your work at the Observatory, we’ve seen no bounce back as predicted by Austin.  Come with me,’ she turned away from the barn and walked further across the grey concrete farm yard and out the other side, stopping when she reached an old wooden gate into one of the fields.  ‘Look at that,’ she said, gesturing to a field covered in a flattened wheat crop that had turned from its characteristic golden brown to a blackish grey colour.

Anita looked gravely at the sight in front of her.  ‘How widespread is the issue?’ she asked emptily.

‘Very,’ replied Helena.  ‘Farmers all over the world are reporting issues, some worse than others.  This is a pretty extreme example; the farmer’s lost nearly everything this year, his farm won’t survive another harvest like it.’

‘And presumably it’ll push up food prices.  Is it bad enough to cause shortages?’

‘This year we’ll probably just about survive, but if it continues into next year the story will be very different.  I don’t know how much prices will go up though.  That could lead to protests in itself.’

‘Protests?’  Anita asked shocked.  She’d heard of protests a couple of decades back, but had never in her lifetime been aware of any taking place.  People didn’t generally have a cause worth running the risks associated with protesting.  ‘I can’t imagine many people will want to protest in front of Austin, and what could he do about it anyway?’

‘It never ceases to amaze me how your generation have seemingly no interest in politics what so ever.  We used to protest about a whole host of things that mattered.  I used to protest.  I remember the Institution organising a couple of protests around the Descendants not taking their vows seriously, although of course we didn’t publicise the fact they were organised by us.  But that all came to a rather abrupt halt when Austin obtained that information about us, so now we can’t do anything.’

‘What would you do if Austin didn’t have the information about you?’

‘Protest, rebel, start to make people believe there could be freedom under the relic if we overthrow the Descendants, give people hope there’s a better way to live, even if the bloodline is broken, put some pressure on the Descendants to actually start to carry out what they promise in their vows, including reinstating the relic experts,’ Helena was becoming more and more animated as she spoke, ‘we’ve got to do something, we can’t just sit back and take our fate if that means starvation.  Can you imagine a world where you can’t get food without having to fight for it?  Or where you’re not sure when you’ll next be able to eat?  You’ll probably be alright if you stay in with the Descendants, they’ve probably already started to stockpile, but if this goes on unchecked, just think of the consequences.’

‘But I’m sure when the Descendants find out the full extent of this, they will take action.’

Helena laughed a cruel laugh.  ‘You think Austin is going to come to the rescue of the people?’

‘There are two other Descendants,’ Anita sniped back, ‘and I know Alexander will fight for action, and how can Peter not join him?’

This tipped Helena over the edge, ‘open your bloody eyes Anita.  Peter is spineless, he’ll never stand up to Austin, meaning it’s Alexander against Austin, who has Peter’s silent support.  That’s two Descendants against one; Alexander will never win that way.’

‘But Marcus has influence over Austin.  I know he can make him see sense.’

‘By the Gods Anita, have you really let the fact you have feelings for Marcus cloud your judgement to such an extent?  Marcus had no power with Austin; he’s a puppy who follows his master around, nothing more, and the only way Marcus will ever get more power is if he becomes who Austin wants him to be.  The only one who really has Austin’s ear is Amber and even then, her influence is limited.  The only way to get them to listen is to take direct action Anita and that’s why we need you.’

Helena was back in school teacher mode and Anita didn’t appreciate it.  She was no longer Helena’s pupil, so if Helena wanted her help she could damn well stop trying to press gang her into it and try asking nicely.  ‘Tell me Helena, why is it I should trust you?  Your credentials aren’t exactly what you might call exemplary.  You were my teacher and mentor for years but never once told me anything about my parents, despite knowing full well I was desperate for information.  You come to me representing some shady organisation that I’ve never heard of, talking about starting a revolution, to overthrow the rule of two of my friends, to steal back some kind of information without knowing what that information is, and worst of all, you dangle the carrot of finding out about my parents to try and force me into helping you.  As I said before, I’ve made up my mind.  I’m sorry, but I can’t help you; you’ll have to find another way.’  Anita turned away from Helena and vaulted the gate into the field.  She would walk back to Empire; she couldn’t stand being around Helena for a second longer.

Anita crossed two fields that both looked exactly like the last, covered in blackened, flattened crops, so she knew Helena wasn’t lying, at least about the enormity of the problem facing the world.  Obviously something had to be done, but she was sure the Descendants, even Austin, would have to see sense and do something once they really knew what was happening.  There was a Council meeting in a week or so; Bas was giving an energy update and she was sure they’d listen and take action then.

As Anita crossed the next field, some movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention.  In the top corner of the field there was a small stone structure that she recognised as a shrine to the Body God Tatiana.  In front of the shrine were two men, one holding still a struggling goat and the other holding a knife up to the sky.  She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after a few moments the man with the knife lowered his hands and slit the throat of the goat in one clean movement, the animal’s body losing its life and collapsing to the floor.  The two men placed the carcass in the shrine and Anita stopped, stock still, shocked at what she was witnessing.  She’d heard of sacrifices to the Gods obviously, who hadn’t, but she’d never actually seen one.  Anita could only imagine the desperation that the farmers felt at the moment; they thought they were about to lose their livelihoods, their farms and worst of all, that they, along with the rest of the people of the world, would starve.  The men knelt in front of the shrine and started to pray.  Anita moved on, she wouldn’t like to be observed if their roles were reversed.

Helena was furious.  That couldn’t have gone much worse if I’d tried, she thought savagely, and worst of all, it was all her fault.  The Spirit Leader had warned her about trying to bully Anita into it and she had failed none the less.  There was nothing that wound up Helena more than her own mistakes and she hated herself for it, she beat herself up and replayed their discussion in her head, supposing what might have happened if she’d gone about it differently.  Maybe she should’ve told Anita something about her parents, or made something up about the information they were trying to get back?  Either way, Anita’s faith in the Descendants, especially in Austin’s desire to do the right thing, was worrying.  Was she really that blind to the truth?  If she was, then there was no hope of rectifying the situation, but Anita was the only way.  ‘Damn it,’ she said furiously, pissed off at her own incompetence ‘how could you be such a stupid, blundering idiot.’  She slammed her balled up fist into the roof of her car before yanking open the squeaky door, clambering in without her usual grace, and slamming the door as hard as she could behind her.