Escaping

by Sebastien Acacia

  KATHARS

  2 - ESCAPING

  Sébastien Acacia

  www.kathars.com

  www.facebook.com/kathars

  Follow me on my YouTube channel: Sébastien Acacia

  Cover illustration: Vyrhelle

  Translation : Gaulthier Marrel

  Copyright © 2019 Sébastien Acacia

  Publisher Les Inclassables

  All rights reserved.

  From the same author

  The Ninth Planet Trilogy

  (Available on Amazon and Apple Store)

  Volume 1 - The Signal

  French version only Tome 2 – L’Expédition

  French version only Tome 3 – Exodus

  Kathars series

  Volume 2 – The Convoy

  French version only Viralata – Le fils du Caïman

  (Available on Amazon and Apple Store)

  Acknowledgements

  This book is dedicated to my 7-year-old son, Anthony. Despite my most ardent wishes, I know that he will never read it, but it’s for him and thanks to him, that I decided to change paths, and pursue a writing career. I also dedicate this book to all parents of autistic children, especially those who think that their lives have stopped. Never give up.

  Thanks to the Brasserie du Commerce de Besançon, which provides me every day with an amazing Golden Age atmosphere to devote myself into writing.

  Thanks to Eleonora Conti for the amazing cover illustration she has done for this book. Thanks to Vanaly for her advice and to all the people who have taken part, in any way, into the emergence of this new series.

  Disclaimers

  This is a fictional work, based on true facts, places which I dream about and people I shared many moments of my life with. Nevertheless, any resemblance to actual or past events is purely coincidental.... Or almost.

  Escaping is only a delay. It is something pathetic as it always seems to be beneficial, but at the end of the way, it always appears to be meaningless.

  Prologue

  Cornered, Matilda took a few more steps forwards, analysing her choices, looking, on one side, at the two self-confident militiamen calmly walking toward her and, on the other, at the drones blocking her way to the forest. The Legatee was following from a distance, without rushing, quite peacefully. A cruel smile was illuminating his face, which normally showed no expression, already enjoying his victory. The closest militiaman aimed his weapon toward her, then, suddenly, his sidekick and he turned their gaze, looking up toward the forest, scared and impatient to fight. Matilda turned back to fully understand the situation. A fighting aircraft, a mix of a plane and a helicopter, just appeared so close to the top of the trees, which they bend like common bamboos under the pressure of the atomic reactors of the huge machine...

  Victor

  Victor had lost all ideas of time. How long ago had he escaped from the sacred land of South America? How many weeks did he spend to cross the ocean? How many days ago had he travelled the sacred lands of Africa? How many hours had bygone since he encountered the Milicia Christi’s frightening drones. Whatever the answer was, it was far too long and his muscles couldn’t handle it any more. Only despair was pushing him to carry on. His arms could row only because he deeply knew the future of humankind was depending on him. Victor was realistic. Probably a bit too much. And this was his most singular feature. Being now more than 65 years old, he clearly knew this journey wouldn’t be a simple Sunday stroll. He also knew that if he hadn’t got the nano-boosters injection, he wouldn’t have reached Saint-Louis on the Atlantic Coast, which used to be Brazil. He decided the side effects were of little importance. His last hope was to finally find her again to reveal his secret to her.

  Esclarmonde, are you still alive? Did you find shelter in Kalia as you promised me?

  This painful separation was still engraved in his flesh. Twenty years had been gone in a snap. The memories were slowly coming back as he was approaching the small rural community of Kalia, located on the East side of the Lake Chad, further than the horizon.

  Everything started when the ecological systems collapsed one at a time because of the overpopulation and because of the lawless self-destructing overconsumption of the planet. Fifteen billions of people who would prefer to own properties rather than thinking, learning, understanding, protecting. All the ecosystems of the planet dropped in every part of the world, the huge tropical forests, the oceans, the sea ice and the big glaciers, the lowlands and the valleys. Or at least, what was barely remaining of it. The scarce resources were completely depleted, including oil and its countless by-products. The world agriculture was only producing a few genetically modified seeds of wheat, corn and rice and some plants that could be cultivated very easily. Insects, the main source of proteins of the world were suffering from plagues and the first important world famines arose when the production dropped. This was the first severe blow for the population. It was the infamous Godless Decade! This name was given afterwards by the powerful Terra Fecundis Church. In other words, this was ten years without a single childbirth on Earth. Victor was barely twelve years old at this time but this period was clearly engraved in his memories. Then, many riots, revolts, wars started and lead the world population to drop even further. Entire areas were contaminated by radioactive leaks from the last existing nuclear plants, which were destroyed during the fights. The massive exodus of the Northern hemisphere population toward the Southern hemisphere which followed resulted in new conflicts with their share of victims. This was the third severe blow on the world demography. Despite all the existing human technologies, nothing could be done about radioactivity. In barely twenty years, the population dropped down below 900 million people. The human extinction seemed to be inevitable. At the rate of people deaths and as they couldn’t reproduce, humankind was doomed to completely disappear from Earth in just a few decades. The surviving scientists were still relentlessly looking for solutions without any success. That was when a rumour spread out like wildfire, a Miracle happened, a childbirth. The first one in ten years. A Holy man who founded a modest Church in Northern Brazil was spoken about. An enlighten person proclaiming being the true reincarnation of the Christ. This was Inosanto’s accession, the new Prophet who chose to sacrifice his appearance and to suffer for eternity to get forgiveness for the humankind sins and for God to be merciful. Inosanto the immortal, Inosanto the saviour, Inosanto the Prophet, whatever the name he was called by, converting to his Church and strictly following the life and divine nature precepts was enough to be blessed by God and to obtain the sacred blessing of being able to procreate. A decade later, the major part of humankind who had survived had converted and Inosanto created sacred sanctuaries, huge region forbidden to humankind and intended for nature regeneration as God commanded him. The tropical forests should rise again, nature should take back its right place in the world, be respected in order to provide enough to feed the small number of humans left and perfect conditions for them to live in peace. A sprawling religious theocracy established itself step by step. It was as efficient as it was ruthless and nobody was complaining. Nobody? Not really. Many scientists who didn’t care about the religious rambling of the Church gathered together in order to start a wealth of research programs to give a logical explanation based on science and to interrupt the quick ascent of this new totalitarian regime. Inosanto didn’t have the same vision. Based on the Catholic Church of the first millennium, he created the Milicia Christi and declared the beginning of a new divine inquisition whose aim was to eradicate all scientists who dared studying, modifying and transforming living creatures. The history was just going the same way. They were designated as heretics and as a great danger for the humankind future. This inquisition, known as the Great Purge, was one of the bloodiest of the Christ
ian history. Besides the available scientific literature, which was fully destroyed, scientists were chased. The few who escaped sought refuge in the contaminated regions. Others blend in the communities, getting new identities, pretending to follow the rules and to be good followers in order to survive. Inosanto took advantage of his complete influence to reorganise all the human societies. The population control would be done through the injection of chips under the skin and the community wouldn’t be able to exceed five thousand individuals. The churches built everywhere around the territory would be in charge of educating the masses and organising religious worships with mandatory attendance. Some natality ceremonies would be organised every week so the women could express their devotion to God and maybe be chosen to give birth and get the sacred honour of the humankind future. Finally, trips would be strictly limited in order to avoid the past mistakes, to avoid spreading potential plagues, polluting and plotting. Inosanto declared a new calendar in which the year zero was the year of the birth miracle, and coincidentally, the first days of his immortality. For Victor, the current year was 2180 while for others it was year 39 of the new Inosanto’s era.

  The Lake Chad had seen a lot. Victor remembered his history-geography classes he followed when he was young. As for the Aral Sea, the Lake Chad had completely disappeared at the end of 2050. Despite all the projects to save it, nothing was enough to maintain it. At this time, the overpopulation of Africa was so important that the water need was only reached by taking up more and more of the blue gold. Since this time, it got back to its gorgeous past and had a surface equivalent as the one of this European country used to be called Switzerland. Today, the world was divided in three distinct habitable regions, the sacred lands of South America, of Africa and of Oceania. All the other lands were forbidden as they were contaminated by nuclear plants and devastated by mighty radioactive storms. The big tropical forests in the Amazon, in Central Africa and in Oceania were strictly prohibited to the humankind. Autonomous machine-tools, such as robots with four legs designed to look like a dog, were inhabiting the ruins of the last nuclear plants in order to collect radioactive wastes. These were recycled in an atomic pile which had been widely used on Earth for more than a century. The idea was to wisely use technology according to the humankind purpose. If scientists had been purged, engineers, on the other hand, were holding a special position in this new world. And if the majority of the living communities were dedicated to farming, a few engineers’ communities were enjoying privileges and had a high comfort which was unparalleled within the Church. Nevertheless, a lot of the technological knowledge had been lost because of the wars and of the huge death rate in the population. Malfunctions were frequent and sometimes had dramatic consequences in every sectors - transportation, energy production, agriculture or communication. One thing was working perfectly, the technology used by the Milicia Christi, the electronic chips, controlling and punishing the population, the military transportation units, which were feared by the whole population and their mighty powerful weapons with biometric recognition.

  Victor was finally paddling to his destination, leaving behind all the sad memories he had witnessed about the world history. His small canoe was gently going on the quiet lake toward what was looking like a shore covered by canes and various high weeds. Disrupted by the small boat going through the plants, thousands of mosquitoes supported by an army of flies swept on Victor disorderly. He pulled in his chin, closed his eyes, clenched his jaws and without freaking out, he just kept going as much as he could. Despite his obstinacy, he didn’t withstand long the numerous stings and had no choice but to drop into the water to avoid being defeated by the insects. The burning and itchy feelings were to a degree he couldn’t identify clearly which part of his body was bothering him the most. On the shore, a few trees with visible roots the size of a man were rising over the water like a plant wall. The huge swamp wouldn’t be easy to cross and he knew it. Victor made sure his supposedly waterproof backpack didn’t get water in and that its content was still pristine. He started to move on carefully, step by step, paying attention to any suspicious moves on the surface of the water. He knew from experience he could encounter at any time deadly poisonous snakes, toads with toxic skin and many other bugs he would rather not be confronted with. Nature wouldn’t allow him any rest. The water was still knee-high when he finally fled the swarm of insects and just had to deal with dragonflies and a few reckless mosquitoes. He turned back to make sure no drone followed him.

  Such a strange idea! They would have captured me a long time ago if they had spotted me.

  However, before disappearing in the swamp, he turned back again, not to contemplate one last time the amazing wild landscape of the Lake Chad with its pink colour from the rising sun, but indeed because he feared more than anything else in the world the mighty powerful drones of the Church.

  Matilda

  Just 20 years old, Matilda had every chance to be chosen by the Almighty to become a mother. Even if all the women under 40 years old of the community were taking part once a week in the natality worship, even if only the most devout women would be honoured by God, she was still hoping one day she would become one of them. As long as she could remember, since she was approximately 15 years old - age she had to take part in the worship - Abbot Matthew was leading it. Matilda was never getting tired of listening this old sixty-year-old man, while he was passionately narrating the great history of humanity and the redeeming resurgence of the Christ reincarnated in the humble form of Inosanto. She loved while he was speaking about the Miracle, the first new born baby after the Godless Decade. She was a girl and Inosanto delivered her himself in front of the small chapel where all began again, on Mosqueiro Island in the northern part of the sacred lands of South America. She was named Eve. She was a small metis with skin the same colour as honey, eyes green as emeralds and curly hair like the swirled rushes around the rice paddies. Ultra-realistic painting of her in her mother’s arms dressed the wall of every church in the world and she was unreasonably worshipped. Since she was small, Matilda was identifying herself specifically to Eve. Indeed, they had a lot in common, the same skin colour, eyes, curly hair, full lips and small demure nose. Also, just like Eve, she never knew who her father was. He had disappeared even before she was born. Therefore, she transferred her fondness toward the old abbot with dark ebony skin and he was reciprocating it in such a sensitive way.

  “Matilda, it’s always a real pleasure to see you joining the worships. Your absence last week worried me.”

  He didn’t wait for his small protégé to drop her long board after the long line of bicycles belonging to the followers already installed inside the chapel. He carefully rested his forehead on hers, closed his eyes and slipped the palm of his hand on the top of her head. It was a small ritual they were following every time they met each other, during the week in the small clinic where she was volunteering a few hours to help the sick persons, or during the big Sunday mass.

  “I apologise. I was sick, Father Matthew. Do you think the Almighty will hold me accountable for this?”

  “Don’t worry, all the odds are in your favour. You’re the most devout young woman I know.”

  Matilda instantly smiled again.

  “Thank you, Father Matthew.”

  “Next time, tell your mother to call to inform me. I would be less worried. At least, she wasn’t affected too much, was she?”

  “No. I don’t know how she fell through the cracks. I think she simply avoid being in touch with other people during the plague.”

  “Hmm! I think she just avoid any contact with other people,” the old man answered quickly. “If she doesn’t come to mass she will be in trouble, and I won’t be able to endlessly cover up for her.”

  “I will tell her again, I promise.”

  “This time, the community has taken a heavy toll.”

  “Yes. I heard for Antonio and Victoire. They didn’t come to work in the fields yesterday and when I inquired if they we
re well, I was informed the funerals would be this Saturday.”

  “One hundred and forty-two parishioners were taken by the plague in one week only.”

  “Oh my God! I didn’t know...”

  “With the current low birth rate, let’s hope the Almighty will grant us a high fertility. What about Paul?”

  “He just had a bit of fever and quite painful soreness. He is strong you know.”

  “He will be a good father when the day will come.”

  Matilda straightened back and looked directly into his eyes.

  “I’m ready to be a mother!” She yelled.

  “I don’t have a single doubt, but this doesn’t depend on me. May God hear you and fulfil your wishes. Park your casters quickly and go settle in, we will start in a few minutes.”

  Matilda quickly laid her extraordinary long and old skateboard on the wall. She got closer to the biometric pulpit and presented her wrist in order to register she was present in the church. Then, she pulled to the front of the church to find a seat on the first row before they were all taken. The oldest women around forty years old, often much more despair than the younger ones to get pregnant, hurried to take those seats to make a good impression. Matilda found an available seat, the last vacant one. She hurried to overpass a young woman on the way.

  She couldn’t resist taking a look at the two men from the Milicia Christi, fully dressed in black, standing on each side of the altar. From habit, she wasn’t paying attention any more to their weapons, their military boots, their impressive stature, or to the fact that the only part of their body which was still perceptible was their eyes. They were here for the safety of all and Matilda never put this fact into question. She was feeling protected. It was the only thing that truly mattered. Once, she witnessed the apprehension of a group of a dozen men who were drinking alcohol during the yearly community celebration. They had to face two men of the Milicia. One of them was enough to overcome the group, while the other was noting the offender identities on his electronic chip reader. Their fighting skills were so impressive that she dreamed about it during several nights. Or was it nightmares?