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Bastion

Page 6

by Kyle West


  “Where is Jorla?” I asked. “We haven’t seen her since Haven.”

  Here, Isaru smiled. “That is something I’ve been keeping from you both. Jorla is here.”

  Fiona’s eyes widened, and I must have had much the same reaction. “You mean…at the Sanctum?”

  “She wanted to come visit me,” Isaru said.

  “How long has she been here?” Fiona asked.

  “It’s not as if she’s here all the time,” Isaru said. “She’s just staying in the area. She comes to visit me sometimes on the walls perhaps once a week. It has been this way ever since the reversion.”

  “And no one has caught you?”

  “Not yet,” Isaru said. “Surprisingly.”

  “You’ve been meeting at night, then.”

  Isaru gave a single nod.

  “Have you already told Jorla about…” I had been about to say my own name, but stopped myself. “About Anna?”

  “Not yet. Although she knows I’m keeping something from her — something I’ve never done before.”

  Fiona looked at Isaru before her gray eyes settled on me. “Do we tell her?”

  I was hesitant to let anyone else in on our secret, but telling Jorla seemed to be different than telling someone like Ret or Samal — especially when considering Jorla might even be able to help us.

  “We should,” I said. “Only…why have you kept Jorla’s presence secret so long?”

  “I don’t know,” he finally said.

  “Isaru…” Fiona went quiet, waiting for Isaru to look at her. When he did, she continued. “We’re all in this together. If there is anything else you know that we don’t, we need to hear it now.”

  “There is nothing.”

  “Well…” Fiona said, “is there anything new for you to report, Shanti?”

  “I’ve told Isaru about it already, but I had a dream last night. My first real dream since the reversion.”

  I told her of what I had seen of Anna’s life — her fears, her baby, who was the child of Elekim himself. No, not Elekim. Alex. It was still hard not to think of these people as gods.

  “The first Elekai,” Fiona said. “The dream may not have seemed like much, but to have seen Anna, Ruth, and Anna’s son is a remarkable revelation. Perhaps the meaning isn’t clear now, but perhaps with time, you’ll figure it out.”

  “Isandru said he wouldn’t be surprised if more of Anna’s memories return.”

  Another part I left unsaid. Sometimes, I got these flashes of thoughts that didn’t seem to come from me. It was too uncomfortable to admit, even to myself. It was as if Anna were inside me, buried, and she was trying to get out. It had me waking up at night in cold sweats. What if, one day, I woke up to find that I was another person? Or would it be more gradual?

  I realized that Isaru wasn’t the only one with secrets.

  “Are you all right?” Fiona asked.

  I forced myself to nod. “It’s nothing.”

  Fiona took in both Isaru and me. “Part of the reason I’ve called this meeting is to have an arena to talk outside Isandru. Despite what he has revealed so far, I can’t help but feel there are some things he’s keeping hidden. I’ve spoken with him about this already, and he denies it. If so, then why is he so guarded about his past? Why not just tell us how he came to the Sanctum, or how he spent the years between his flight from Hyperborea and now? He knows much more than we could ever get from books, and yet he keeps this information to himself.”

  “Perhaps his reasons are beyond any of us,” Isaru said. “Perhaps we shouldn’t question it.”

  “Really? Not question it? How couldn’t we?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Isaru said. “Rather, perhaps he wants to ease us into it. For him to reveal everything at once could be overwhelming.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “Maybe I’m wrong,” Isaru said. “But one thing I do know: Isandru is wise beyond our comprehension, as might be expected of someone who has lived to be nearly two centuries of age. He has had experiences that none of us could dream of, much less understand. Perhaps he knows that there are some things we just couldn’t get, just because we weren’t alive during those times.”

  “So, he just keeps everything to himself?” I asked.

  To me, that sounded incredibly lonely. How would it feel to be the only person still alive, your entire city and family destroyed? Something told me that two centuries couldn’t erase that pain.

  “I can only speculate,” Isaru said.

  “What does all this mean, then?” I asked. “It’s been two months, and we’re only a little further than we were before. For some reason, I feel we can’t get any further until we take our search outside the Sanctum.”

  “I’m probably going to Sylva soon, because I think my uncle’s letter will confirm my suspicions,” Fiona said. “I may not have to do much research at all; my Uncle Caris is an expert in dragon lore, and he might give me an answer I can use straight away.”

  “For now,” Isaru said, “I believe Elder Isandru is right about saying that Shanti and I should remain in the Sanctum to train.”

  “So do I,” Fiona said. “As initiates, the Sanctum is your place. Traditionally, even apprentices aren’t allowed to range far, and usually only under Seeker supervision.”

  “Twenty is the earliest one can be raised to Seeker,” I said. “Something tells me the Second Darkness will be coming long before that.”

  I remembered something Isandru had said after we had returned from the reversion. He wanted to keep things under control for as long as he could, but he recognized at some point, events would slip away from him. I wondered whether my plan to return to Colonia earlier would qualify as events slipping away.

  Before that could happen, though, I needed a tangible plan.

  I realized it had been a while since anyone had spoken, but it was Fiona who broke the silence.

  “We should disperse,” Fiona said. “We’ll meet at the same time next week, unless any of us says otherwise.”

  “When are you leaving for Sylva?” I asked.

  “As soon as I hear word from my uncle. When that happens, I’ll be sure the both of you know.”

  Each left Old Silver by a different direction, and within a few minutes, I found myself in my dorm. Isa was already asleep, as was her custom.

  Life never stopped in the Sanctum, and it was hard to see how I’d ever leave this place and find my parents when there were always things to do.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE WALLS OF COLONIA WERE rising, and Anna walked in the desert outside the city to survey the progress. They had been rising for ten months, to the point where most of Colonia’s interior buildings, most no more than two stories, were now hidden. The wall’s smooth, red sandstone basked in the late afternoon light. The city was scarcely two years old, and Anna could only marvel at how far it had come along. Some twenty thousand people now called Colonia home, most being immigrants from the south rather than native Wastelanders. A good portion of those immigrants were escaped slaves who saw Colonia as a safe haven. Samuel promised them sanctuary, and that didn’t make the governors and elite of Nova Roma’s upper provinces happy, but Samuel would never allow slavery in his city — a point on which he butted heads with Augustus often.

  These days, it was more than just often. Samuel, Ruth, Michael, Anna — anyone who had been part of the inner circle — were now talking of a daring plan that would openly defy Augustus, who was placing increasing pressure on the province of El Yermo to conform to Imperial standards. Anna could see it written in the future, as if it were prophecy. Colonia’s values and the Empire’s could not coincide forever. Augustus and Samuel did everything they could to keep the peace, but Augustus was under his own form of pressure from the Imperial Senate to bring Colonia to heel. They demanded the return of escaped slaves, and Augustus had commanded Samuel to not bar the work of slave catchers on official business in the city. Samuel, in defiance, did all he could to protect the esc
aped slaves, often sending them far from the city by employing them on Bunker dig sites. Even so, it was only a temporary solution.

  Hence, the walls. One of the escaped slaves — a man by the name of Julio Valencia — had been an architect and a highly educated man in the Old World. When Dark Day had happened, he had been acquired by the Empire and had designed many of its public works in its outer provinces. He had escaped upon hearing about Colonia, and now, he worked for Samuel, and in short order had directed a lot of Colonia’s labor toward the construction of the wall, after having a quarry dug northwest of the city. Though the work in the quarry and building the wall was grueling, people who had once been slaves at least earned an honest wage and were guaranteed compensation if they were injured on the job — benefits that far exceeded their old status. All this could be funded by the batts earned from scrap mining. There were even talks now to scrap north in Vegas.

  Wealth flowed through the city from various digs: computers, tools, ion batteries, recycling equipment, rare metals, weapons, clothing, wiring, medicines, most of which were in pristine condition — these were all to be had from the scrap rush, and men could make fortunes selling scrap to the Novans that could no longer be easily obtained.

  Anna walked closer to the construction. She could hear men shouting, foremen calling orders, the scratching of sleds as they loaded new stone blocks off the trucks. Massive wooden pulleys and cranes, all powered by animals and men, hefted the stone blocks into position. Hundreds of men worked day and night to make those walls rise — walls that, once completed, would rival Nova Roma’s in size and thickness. Samuel would accept nothing less, and neither would his architect, Valencia.

  Even so, those walls weren’t rising fast enough — not when potential enemies lurked on all sides. First, there were the provincial governors, whose ambition was only checked by Augustus — governors who were jealous of Colonia’s wealth and enraged by the slaves it harbored. Then, there was Onyx Black in the west, governing California. Already, he was causing trouble by scrapping Bunkers in El Yermo’s territory. Samuel did what he could to protect what was his, having both Char and Marcus training new men for the Colonian militia as fast as they could. It wouldn’t be long before either the governors or Black made a move, perhaps in tandem. Once the walls were completed, Colonia would be much harder to assault, so long as there were men to protect it. And many of the weapons and much of the ammunition scrapped by Samuel were kept in reserve, meaning Colonia would outgun most of its opponents — at least for now.

  “Senator Keener?” a female voice queried.

  Anna was broken from her thoughts, and somewhat surprised to see her assistant, Clara. Anna had meant to come out here alone, but the blue-eyed Clara always had a way of finding her. What was more, four brawny men stood behind her, each armed with a sword and a handgun.

  “What’s this, Clara?” Anna asked.

  “Your guard, Senator.”

  “My guard? I hardly see how that’s necessary.”

  “It is,” Clara said. “At least for now.”

  Clara hesitated, and Anna knew that she had disturbing news. “What happened?”

  “There…there was an attempt on Samuel’s life at the dock in Coloso.”

  Anna felt her blood go cold. “What? Is he all right?”

  Clara nodded. “Yes, he’s fine, but two of his men were killed in the fighting. He’s returned to the city.”

  “Who did it?”

  “I don’t know, Senator, but I guess it was one of the governors, or maybe even Black. They have the most reason to see Samuel dead.” Clara looked at Anna, her eyes concerned. “And they have as much reason to see you dead, too.”

  Anna’s eyes took in the guards. She didn’t know any of them; they must have been cobbled together last minute. If Anna was forced to use a guard, they would have to be men of her own choosing. For now, though, this would have to do.

  “Lead me to him,” Anna said.

  “Actually, that’s the reason I came here. Samuel’s called for an emergency session of the Senate.”

  “Let’s go, then,” Anna said.

  Clara and the silent guards led Anna from the city’s perimeter and onto its main street. The streets were bustling with activity, and the crowds parted as Anna and her guard made their way toward the city center.

  On either side rose buildings, mostly of wood, but there were a few of stone here and there. The streets were a maze, as the city had grown so quickly that there had been little time for any planning. Only the inner city — the part with the Senate House — had streets laid out in a basic grid pattern.

  They made a final turn until they were in Colonia’s central square — often called the Plaza of Sands by the people, because of all the dust that permeated the air from the constant flow of traffic. The Senate House rose on its far end, on slightly elevated terrain. It had been of Valencia’s design as well, and though small, was adequate for its purpose. It was built of sandstone and a steep roof of red stucco, the only adornment being the six red columns supporting the awning above a set of wide stone steps. Though the design was basic, the fact that it had been raised in only six months was more impressive. It had been Valencia’s first project upon arriving in the city, and he was now focusing all his efforts on the walls.

  Anna joined the stream of senators walking up the steps. Ever since the Senate House was completed, the dress code of the senators had grown to match. They mostly wore finer clothing on planned sessions, but now they were caught in their day-to-day wear. Anna spied Lyle Bates, a swarthy, bearded foreman who must have rushed over from the wall, his work clothes dusty and worn. There was Emilio Zapata, one of the many slaves of Nova who had found a better life in Colonia. He operated a business running barges up and downriver. The only person well-dressed in pants and a jacket was Franco Anatolia, which was fitting, as he was a tailor.

  They all looked at Anna as she and her guard passed. They spoke in whispers, and many of the eyes held fear. Anna was afraid, too, but she couldn’t show it — not when she had been elected Aedile alongside Valencia, a position which gave her the responsibility of overseeing the city’s public works. Colonia’s provincial senators had been given the same rankings as any other in Nova Roma, and as governor, only Samuel had a place in Nova Roma’s Imperial Senate.

  When Anna entered the Senate House, well-lit from its high windows, the other senators followed in from behind. Clara and Anna’s guards remained outside; none but senators were allowed in the House while it was in session, though spectators could listen from outside the doors. On important matters, a caller often shouted to the crowds who were too far to hear anything going on inside the House. The House consisted of three rows of stone benches on its either side, facing each other. On the opposite end of the open House doors was the governor’s chair. A few senators had already taken their seats. Anna took her seat on the front row, near the governor’s chair on the other side.

  Of Samuel, there was no sign. A few minutes passed, during which the rows filled even more. Michael and Lauren entered, the former in combat fatigues and the latter in plain pants and a dusty white shirt. It was clear that she had been interrupted in some type of work. It was a relief for Anna to see their familiar faces. Of all the senators, those she had fought with were the only ones she could fully trust. Upon seeing Anna, Michael and Lauren made their way over.

  “Where’s Samuel?”

  “Coming soon, I hope.”

  Anna noticed that the senators kept stealing gazes at her, as if she would know what to do.

  Anna’s thoughts were broken when Samuel entered the Senate House, followed by Ruth. Everyone stood out of respect while Ruth went to sit by Lauren. Samuel walked toward the Governor’s Chair.

  The entire senate was quiet, save for several coughs or the scraping of feet on the floor stones.

  It was only when Samuel took a seat that everyone followed his example.

  To Anna, Samuel looked worn, for lack of a better word. Hi
s face was still full, his jaw chiseled, and his body strong, but she could see it in his eyes. He was tired. In a way, Anna thought governing Colonia might have been harder for Samuel than all the fighting he had done during the war. Now, he fought a different kind of war — a war having far more to do with the mind than anything else.

  “If you are here,” Samuel began, his deep voice echoing off the walls, “then you know the reason for this meeting. My guard and I were attacked in Colossus. Six men, armed with swords and guns, fired on myself and my guards. Though outnumbered, we fought and killed four while the other two fled. We learned nothing about who they’re working for, but I ordered one of my guards to track the ones that escaped. Until we hear from him, we won’t know who for sure who it was that ordered my death.”

  As Samuel spoke, his scribe feverishly wrote on a piece of paper. The sound of his pen scrawling was the loudest thing in the quiet chamber.

  “Though my attacker’s identity is not known, it doesn’t take much imagination to make some guesses. I need not name any names here; all of you know of my rivals, and it could have been any one of them. Perhaps all of them. What do we do, then, with the information we have? Of course, the first thing I ordered was for a message to be transmitted to Augustus through my contact in Nova Roma. According to him, the Emperor is indisposed; when I left Nova Roma, he was preparing a campaign against the tribes raiding the border towns in the south, so he may have already set out. Whatever the case, the Emperor is too far to help us here. We are on our own for whatever comes.”

  Left unsaid, Anna thought, is how the Emperor might want us to be on our own. Anna knew the Emperor might support the governors over Samuel. After all, it was Samuel that was defying the Emperor’s slavery edict, and having the governors take care of Samuel could certainly make things easier for him. Surely Samuel knew that, and Anna was sure some of the senators knew it as well. Samuel wouldn’t say that directly during session, however.

 

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