The Boundless Sublime (20 page)

‘Through these drugs – these poisons – the powerful few have turned humanity into a toxicant army, obedient and ravenous. There will come a time when this army will rise up and turn on itself, and this planet will be destroyed.’

It was a powerful idea. But I didn’t believe him. How could I?

‘Heracleitus,’ said Zosimon, and I looked up at him, even though it still didn’t feel like my name. ‘The human body is a delicate instrument – after elutriation, it must be perfectly
attuned, each chemical element in perfect balance. Once this alchemical harmony is achieved, the human body starts to ring like a bell, awakening your actuality. Your boundless self. Your sublime body.’

‘Does everyone here have a sublime body?’ I asked.

Zosimon shook his head. ‘That is what everyone here strives towards,’ he said. ‘Some are very close. Very close indeed. But there is only one who has a true sublime body.’

‘Who?’

Zosimon gestured down at his own, entirely unremarkable body. His glasses flashed in the candlelight. ‘Me.’

‘Is that why you tell stories set hundreds and thousands of years ago? You’re talking metaphorically about your … sublime body?’

‘Something like that.’ Daddy smiled wryly. ‘It seems such a simple thing, right? Believe me, it takes most people a lot longer to grasp the concept. You’re one of the clever ones.’

I thought it over. I already knew that the human body was made up of chemical elements, and that if they were unbalanced, the body would get sick. It made sense that if we managed to perfectly balance the elements, we’d be healthier. Healthi
est
. Our perfect selves. It probably would make us live longer. For the first time I wondered how old Zosimon really was.

‘You have a question,’ Zosimon said gently. ‘Please, ask it. I want you to be honest. It’s perfectly normal to have doubts.’ I hesitated, not wanting to admit that I didn’t believe him. ‘Why are you doing this?’ I asked, finally. ‘What’s in it for you?’

He was going to tell me that he wanted to help people. That it was all altruism. And I wasn’t going to fall for that.

‘There aren’t many people who would be brave enough to ask me that, Heracleitus. But I knew you were brave. And
you may find that the answer shocks you. Not everyone here knows the truth – the real truth. People are only told when I deem them ready.’

Curiosity burned within me. I straightened my back and raised my chin. I was ready. Or at least, I wanted him to think I was ready.

‘Some people have been living here for years, and still they haven’t had this avocation,’ said Zosimon. ‘You’ve been here for three weeks. What makes you think you can handle it?’

‘I can,’ I said, levelling my most confident look at him. ‘I know I can.’

Zosimon’s mouth spread into a broad smile. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I can
feel
it. You are remarkable.’

Despite myself, I swelled with pride.

‘The ringing of a sublime body is echoed in the sublime bodies around it,’ Zosimon said, choosing his words carefully. ‘If enough bodies are ringing together, then something happens. A kind of spark. The Scintilla, it’s known as. This spark will set us all alight, releasing us from the ties that bind us to this planet. We will become more than human – endowed with physical prowess, enhanced mental capabilities, and eternal vigour.’

Reality came crashing back down again, and I had to struggle to keep myself from rolling my eyes. ‘You mean like … superheroes?’

Zosimon chuckled. ‘I suppose that’s one way of putting it. Look, Heracleitus. I know how this sounds. I’ve presented this avocation hundreds of times before, to hundreds of different people. And it doesn’t get any less ridiculous to my ears. There are many who don’t believe it – who cannot avocate. Many of them change their minds eventually, and come into the light. Some cannot grasp the hugeness of this at all, and they leave us. There have been an unfortunate few
for whom this knowledge has been disastrous – it has overwhelmed their minds and driven them mad. But there are a very small number – a mere handful – who grasp the avocation instantly. No hesitation, no questions. Because deep inside, they know, right down into their very core, that I am telling the truth.’ Zosimon took off his spectacles and passed a hand over his forehead. ‘I’d hoped you would be one of those very few, Heracleitus. But … perhaps I was mistaken.’

His face fell, disappointed, and I felt stung.

‘You weren’t,’ I said hastily, trying to put as much intensity and truthfulness into the words as I could. ‘You weren’t mistaken.’

Zosimon stared at me, his expression unreadable. Could he tell I was lying?

‘Good,’ he said at last. ‘I knew I was right about you.’

I didn’t believe it. Of course I didn’t. Conspiracy theories, superhumans – none of it was true. But Zosimon thought that I was extraordinary. And I didn’t want to prove him wrong.

That evening, I found myself sitting opposite Pippa for dinner. I leaned forward to speak quietly.

‘So … what happened last week?’ I asked. ‘In the Sanctum? You seemed surprised to be chosen.’

Pippa looked down at her bowl, a faint blush staining her cheeks. ‘I’m not really supposed to say,’ she said. ‘You have to have clearance.’

Her eyes darted up to mine, and I could see she wanted to talk about it. ‘I promise I won’t tell anyone,’ I said.

Pippa glanced around to make sure no one was listening. ‘The Sanctum is where women receive Daddy’s actuality.’

I stared at her.

‘Women are incomplete,’ explained Pippa. ‘In order for us to become sublime, we must receive the actuality of a man.’

‘The actuality of a …’ I shuddered, remembering how sure Fox had been. ‘I thought we were supposed to be resisting the urges of the body.’

Pippa shook her head and smiled. ‘Receiving Daddy’s actuality isn’t about
desire
,’ she said. ‘It’s not a carnal act. Daddy’s actuality is boundless.’

‘Oh,’ I said, relieved. I’d been mistaken. Maybe it was some kind of ceremony. ‘Sorry, I thought you meant something else.’

‘Receiving from Daddy may
mirror
the carnal act, in the same way that the food we eat here is a mirror of the food consumed by the toxicants. But they are as different as night and day. One is pure and elutriating, and the other is corrupt and tainted.’

I looked down at my kale and quinoa salad. The little white tails on the grains looked suddenly suggestive. I put down my fork, horrified.

‘I’d heard stories,’ said Pippa. ‘We’re not supposed to talk about it, but you know how it is. I thought some of it must be made up. Some of the things that happen in there. But it’s all true, Hera. The golden light. The sound of bells. The floating. Every last word.’

I remembered Zosimon’s chanted affirmations.
You feel no sexual desire
. If he felt no sexual desire, then why was he taking girls back to his room? My skin crawled with revulsion, imagining him putting those perfectly manicured hands on Pippa. How was she okay with that? How were the other members of the Institute okay with that? What did Maggie think? Had he tried to make
her
go to the Sanctum? Had she tried to resist him? Was that where she got her black eye?

Pippa reached over to touch my hand. ‘As soon as you turn eighteen you’ll be able to receive Daddy’s actuality too. You’ll see.’

I forced my mouth into a smile, vowing to start talking to Fox about leaving as soon as I could.

11

You do not feel the cold.

You are ambidextrous.

You can lift weights heavier than your own body.

You can grasp a new avocation in an instant.

You do not require food or drink to survive.

You are loved by your true family.

You love your Daddy.

I struggled to keep my composure at those last words, unable to erase the mental image of Zosimon with Pippa.

‘No.’

I started at the sound of a voice that wasn’t Zosimon’s. I opened my eyes and turned around, noticing that the others sitting cross-legged around me were doing the same.

It was Maggie. She had a wild look about her, more alive than I’d seen her for days. She held a knife, and was making her way shakily but deliberately to the raised platform where Zosimon was seated. He rose to his feet, seemingly unperturbed.

‘Magnus,’ he said mildly. ‘What’s this all about?’

‘Stop,’ said Maggie, taking relentless steps forward, her knuckles white around the knife’s hilt. I recognised it as
being one of the kitchen knives we used to cut up vegetables. I remembered that Newton had sharpened them only a few days previously.

‘Stop talking,’ Maggie was saying, her voice high and on the verge of hysteria. ‘Stop your lies. Your poison. You sit up here like a god, but it’s all lies. All of it.’

Zosimon smiled, a concerned, sympathetic smile. But he didn’t speak.

‘I know who you are.’ Maggie’s teeth were clenched, her eyes wet. ‘I know what you did.’

Still Zosimon didn’t speak. Maggie stepped up onto the platform, and raised the knife to point it at his throat. Val moved towards her, but Zosimon gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

‘Go ahead,’ said Zosimon, his voice calm. ‘Cut me. Make me bleed. Kill me, if you think it will help you. I’d happily give my life for you.’

He reached out and placed his palm over the blade of the knife, curling his fingers around it. Maggie trembled. Zosimon’s hand flexed, squeezing the blade, and my stomach turned over as I saw blood dripping from his fist.

‘Magnus,’ he said gently. ‘My dear Magnus. There is no such thing as pain. It’s a trick of the body. Don’t let your pain trap your actuality. Cast your pain away. Embrace love.’

They stood there for a moment, frozen still, while we all watched with pounding hearts and held breath. Then a shudder went through Maggie, and her hand slipped from the knife’s hilt. She collapsed, her body shaking with silent sobs.

A look passed between Zosimon and Lib, and a nod. Lib stepped forward. ‘Come on, then,’ she said, taking Maggie’s arm and helping her to her feet. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up.’

As they shuffled off towards the main building, I tried to piece together what had happened. I was shaken, and not just because of the knife and the blood.

Maggie had been my ally – the only other person at the Institute who didn’t seem completely in Zosimon’s thrall. The only one who seemed to have doubts. Had the Institute somehow broken her, snapped some vital part that caused everything else to fall apart? Had something happened in Zosimon’s Inner Sanctum? I remembered her outburst at the Red House, and how quickly she’d snapped out of it. Had she been unhinged all along?

Zosimon, too, had shaken me. He had shown no fear in the face of death. Not so much as a flinch. It had been unnerving, yet strangely compelling. I was starting to see what it was about him that attracted people.

Zosimon turned to the rest of us with a rueful smile. ‘Well, that was rather dramatic. I think we’d better cut Daddy’s Hour short today, don’t you? Head on into breakfast.’

Zosimon went inside, and we all rose to our feet. I immediately went to Fox’s side. His face was white, and instinctively I reached out and gripped his hand.

‘Fox.’ It was Welling. ‘Are you okay?’

Fox hesitated, then nodded. ‘Do you think she’ll be okay, Welling?’

Welling’s eyes flicked down to our joined hands. ‘I hope so.’

Fox slid his hand from my grasp. ‘I’d better go,’ he said, his voice small. But as he walked away, he glanced over his shoulder at me, and mouthed the word
tonight
.

Nobody else mentioned Maggie’s outburst. Nobody moved to pick up the knife or clean up the blood, but when I walked through the courtyard after lunch, there was no sign that any of it had ever happened. I resolved to seek Maggie out that evening and ask her what had happened. What had she been
working on with Zosimon? Where had she disappeared to for nearly three weeks? Something was off, and I was convinced I wasn’t seeing the whole picture.

We were told at dinner that evening that Maggie had decided to leave the Institute and return to her old life. I looked down at my vegetables and eggy water, the uneasy feeling growing stronger. I had to talk to Fox, convince him to leave with me. Maybe after what had happened with Maggie he’d be more amenable.