The Relic Keeper (22 page)

“The church off Trafalgar Square?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“What’s happened then?”

“About 50 dead preliminarily. All the windows were blown out, obviously, and there’s a dozens injured by flying glass outside the church.”

“They’ll have to step up security on places like that.”

“They already had. There’s scanners on the way in and hand searches by security staff. And it was all recorded through a series of watchers – that’s kinda like those street cameras that you used to have in cities. Apparently you haven’t been able to get into a London church with a bag for days, so fuck knows how they got a bomb in there, but whoever’s doing this is very persistent. The police are pretty sure that there are people in these places with explosives, and they blow themselves up and everything else along with it.”

“Suicide bombers. We had them in the twentieth century, although not ever in England that I can remember. Is it the same people that bombed the church near us?”

“Looks like it. Same modus operandi. No warning, no claim of responsibility, no obvious way of getting the device in there, and they’ve targeted a Christian building while a service is going on. I tell you, there might not be that many Christians about these days, but they’re getting a good deal of support for the first time in years. Seems that the more dangerous it is to go to a church, the more people are doing so. It’s ironic really, but this could actually spark off a rebirth in popular religion. And apparently there’s a build-up of protesters in the city claiming that Christians are being persecuted by everyone from the Jews and Muslims to the Sikhs and Hindus. London could well be gearing up for a full-blown religious riot.”

“What would that be like if it happened?”

“You’re guess is as good as…but the St Bartholomew Riots killed somewhere between two and a hundred thousand people in a single day, so maybe something along those lines is possible.”

“What were the St Bartholomew Riots? Was that recent?”

Philip looked slightly irritated. “Didn’t you get taught history in the twentieth century? It was a religious massacre across France in the 16
^th
century, when Catholics murdered hundreds of Protestants because they thought they were doing God’s will. Except now we have cities with 30 million people in them and guns capable of shooting dozens in a matter of seconds. I tell you, pal, if this goes off like it’s heading to, I’m coming to Japan with you, ’cos from past experience Britain isn’t a place that you’d want to be in when this is happening.”

“So why’s this happening?”

“’Cos some God junkie wants to stir up a shit load of hatred? I don’t know, the reasons for this sort of crap are nearly always lost somewhere. People just get too emotional and when all hell lets loose it’s too late to justify anything.”

They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their thoughts. Mathew remembered violence and mutual loathing between the Protestants and Catholics in Ireland that dominated the news of his youth through the 1970s and 80s. Now he had to accept that this was the way that the world was still heading a century later. Then he began to wonder how it would affect his chances of getting out of the country and instantly felt guilty for thinking of himself when all of those people had died. Philip was lost in his own thoughts of the past too; although his were based on events that took place only a decade ago in a country far away.

“Well Mathew,” he said stretching back in his chair and yawning, “I better get on with this work on the Walden Centre. Thanks for your input.”

Mathew downed the last of his scotch and got up. “Hope it helps. I’m going to try to get some sleep I think. It’s been a hard day and my leg aches. Thanks for the drink.”

“No problem. You know, you may not be the idiot I originally thought.”

“Thanks,” answered Mathew sardonically. “And maybe you’re not a total jerk after all either.” Philip laughed lightly. “I tell you what, though,” continued Mathew, “whatever’s happened between you and Reiko, you may want to try to bury, ’cos she’s ok you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And she’s very clever.”

“Yeah, she’ll make a fortune in something when she’s back in her own country you know. She already would have if she hadn’t followed some stupid whim and come to Europe.”

“And she’s hot,” Mathew added with a wink.

“Yeah, I know that too. Providing ‘hot’ means what I think it does.”

“It does.”

As Mathew walked away Philip began checking through the list of names that represented the major shareholders and senior staff of the Walden Centre. Was it possible the Warwick was the victim of some elaborate scam? He would certainly not have admitted this if it had happened. From the details he had access to he could see that most of the senior staff had share options. It wasn’t in anyone’s interest to sabotage the clinic; these people could have lost thousands. Except one, Philip noticed. Why of all the senior consultants and surgeons, did Dr Malik receive no share-based income? Philip poured another drink and gazed into the distance, running various scenarios through his head. He still didn’t know what he was looking for, but he felt close to it now. If he wanted any inside information about the clinic he needed to speak to Rei, and that meant swallowing his pride. But for a reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint, that option didn’t seem too terrible.

Rei seemed content to sit silently away from the vehicles and seemed so still that Mathew wondered if she was meditating. He took his sleeping bag to the far side of the camp, and lay on top of it, lost in his thoughts of the day. Occasionally he’d activate the c-pac that Deon had lent him and it would beep and blink, but that was not something that he felt inclined to deal with tonight. Deon kept updating it with notes to himself, input into the paired machine and Mathew had stopped checking these each time they appeared; most made no sense anyway, and Deon had probably forgotten that the two devices were still linked. He’d listen to them tomorrow in the truck, it would make a good distraction.

As he lay on his sleeping bag Mathew wondered when he’d last slept out in the open, and came to the conclusion that he probably hadn’t ever done this before in his life. The night was warm and cloudless and stars hung in the sky in swirls of abstract design. The stars were ancient and their light old and frozen, Clive, his mother’s brother had told him that as a child. And that meant that if you looked at a star you were looking back in time.

“The light takes centuries to reach us,” Clive had said, pointing out the constellations to the nine-year-old Mathew, who sat in awe at the knowledge that poured from his uncle’s mouth. “When you see a star, think of the things that have happened in the past while the light’s been travelling to Earth. When the light left some of them stars there weren’t no dinosaurs, or even people. P’raps not even an Earth. What do think of that then Matty?”

“Wow!” he replied, unable to think of anything more suitable.

“And after we are all gone them stars will still be shining for people to see for years to come. For centuries to come, even.”

Mathew sat on the grass to edge of the makeshift camp and pulled the fabric of the sleeping bag around him, feeling the cold that seemed to radiate from deep within him, and stared into the night sky. There were so many things he didn’t know. Clive must have died long ago, but he had no idea when, and it occurred to him that he probably would never know. He hadn’t spoken to him much after Mathew’s mother had died when he was 14 and as he lay in a field somewhere in the Berkshire, sometime in the twenty-first century he wished that he’d made more of an effort. He’d spent long enough talking to his father, and Clive was a much nicer man than he was.

He heard the noise of someone approaching and he looked up to see Rei walking towards him.

“May I sit with you?” she said. Mathew gestured that he had no objection and Rei lay down alongside him under the sky.

“Strange how things turn out,” Mathew said softly, not really wanting the rest of the camp to hear, although he was unsure why not.

“Thinking too hard?” Rei looked across and sat up next to Mathew.

“Maybe. Just thinking that I don’t know if I’ve slept out like this before.”

“I wouldn’t make a habit of it in this country.”

Mathew laughed. “No maybe not. Although the sleeping bags are better than they used to be.”

“Is that what you called them? It’s a rather quaint descriptive term.”

“What’s it like where you’re from?”

“Have you never been to Japan?”

“I’ve only been abroad four times. France with the school, Turkey just before mum died, a week in Greece in 1984 and a fortnight in Ibiza a couple of years ago…except it’s not a couple is it?”

Rei smiled at him and touched his hand lightly. “You should think of your past as a foreign country. We do things differently here.”

“That sounds familiar,” he said.

“All I mean is that you must think of this like travelling. It all looks different to you, I imagine, but beneath the surface the fundamental aspects of life are still the same. Nothing
really
changes.” They sat in silence for several minutes before Mathew spoke again:

“There’s been another bomb in London.”

“Yes, I heard about it. It’s very bad there.”

“I was talking to Phil about it. He seems ok, but when I was speaking to him earlier, before the first bomb went off, the one near to us, we had a bit of an argument. I don’t think he really likes me. I reckon he thinks I’ve done what I have for all the wrong reasons.”

“Philip doesn’t really like anyone, especially himself. He likes to intimidate people by his appearance – the fact that he looks like a thug should not affect how you talk to him. He has problems and has not addressed them. I don’t know what his problem is, but I know he needs to look into himself more. He deals with it by concentrating on other people and, well basically by hating everyone and being cynical about everything he encounters. It is not just you. But he has a reason for being like that, and he has a purpose; he just needs to understand it. Like all of us do.”

“Do you think everyone has a purpose then?”

“Yes. We all exist for a reason, we all have a role to play in life. That’s how I see it. You might think at this moment that you’ve made a dreadful decision about your life, but I’m sure there’s a reason for it, and you just have to discover that. There really aren’t any such things as coincidences. What you do, the choices you make, the people you meet, there’s a reason for all of it. Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know. Never really thought of it before.” Mathew thought for a moment and went on: “Are you saying that you think all of our lives are sort of worked out before, like in a play?”

“No, not exactly. You have to have choices otherwise you have predestination, and that means that whatever action you take is the right thing to do because it was preordained. That way of thinking is very dangerous and brought much of Europe into war. What I am saying is that you have the choice to do something or to do nothing, but there’s a reasoning, a guiding force behind it all.”

“God?”

“If you like, but it wasn’t what I meant. Most people these days do not believe in a god of any sort. But what I mean is a guiding force within you. You can do what you like, but you still know what’s right and wrong. If you choose not to follow your conscience, then you have to answer to yourself one day.”

“Is that why you’re here? Phil reckons you could have made a mint if you’d used your skills in Japan.”

“‘Made a mint.’ What a charming expression. Yes, I suppose I could have stayed at home and made money. But I wanted to achieve something first. I wanted to work in a place, like England, where I could feel useful and valued. And maybe later when I return home I can be successful, financially that is, but that is not what I want right now. For now I am achieving what I want to do. I’ve helped people here, and now we’re doing something that is the right thing to do. And so is Philip, although he will tell you that he is working on a story that will get him fame and recognition, that is just his way of dealing with the fact that he is doing something good for no other reason than it is the correct thing for him to do.”

“You make it sound so easy. Why’s there so much shit going on all the time if everyone’s doing the right thing?”

“Well they are not, obviously. Some people are doing what they do for greed, or because of negative emotions: lust, fear, hate, jealousy and such forth. While others are just misguided. Think of the bombings that have happened recently. Those people are setting explosives and killing themselves because they truly believe that they are doing God’s work. This is the influence people have on each other. Others influence those people with their negative emotions. Perhaps because they are scared. Everyone you meet has a message for you of some kind. But it is important to understand that message. Take Deon. He believes that he keeps a box with an ancient relic in it, and he believes that this relic has an answer, a message, for him. He is convinced that there is a message from an earlier time that is waiting for him, and that this box contains it. But he has been spending the last few days talking to a person from the last century, and not listening to their message. There may be a relic in the box. There may not be. We are all keepers of the past. But you must recognise that your past shapes your present and your future. In a way, you are a relic from another time.”

“Thanks. None taken!”

Rei ignored the sarcasm. “But who is the keeper, the person responsible for you? Deon? Philip? Me? Or perhaps just yourself. Receiving a message is easy. Understanding it is harder. One must understand the influence of yourself on others, and others on yourself. If someone tries to influence you with their bigotry, then you should see the errors of being a bigot, but if instead you follow that lead, then you are heading down the road of nihilism. The attempted genocides of the twentieth century show that very clearly. It’s strange actually that towards the end of the twentieth century half of the world was poisoning itself through over-exploitation of mineral and fossil resources, while the other half were too busy killing each other in the name of their respective religions to notice.”