Ezra rose to his feet, pent up anger distorting his face.
‘WHO IS THE TRAITOR AMONG YOU?’
His voice was deafening. He continued staring, eyes filled with fury, at the assembled ministers.
‘WHO IS THE TRAITOR? ANSWER ME, NOW!’
His voice had now risen to a manic shriek. The lack of movement among the seated ministers was remarkable, each and everyone appeared as if they were mute statues hewn from the finest marble.
Ezra rose to his feet.
‘Unless someone answers immediately, I shall have you all incarcerated.’
His voice was now under control but remained chillingly menacing. Obadiah’s only movement was a slight, persistent twitch of his left eyelid. Marcus remained rigidly impassive. The other ministers were looking around, searching for any sign of movement. Other than the movement of their eyes, each and every one remained perfectly still, rigid, unmoving. Suddenly a junior minister seated at the end of the table farthest away from Ezra, rose to his feet. He bore the look of a recalcitrant child about to be reprimanded by an enraged father.
‘Sire, I, Publius Gratius Balbus, implore you not to accuse everyone around this table. If your task is to root out a traitor amongst us, then I will willingly say it is I who is guilty, and will fall on my sword rather than have the entire council stand accused. I hasten to add that I have served you loyally and staunchly. I know of nothing of any traitors in this room and, consequently, I will gladly die to save my esteemed, honourable colleagues. If that be your wish sire, I await your command.’
Ezra was unmoved.
‘Publius Gratius Balbus,’ he said quietly. ‘You are one of my most junior of ministers and, it would appear, one of the most honourable. But I say to all of you now - I am not inviting heroics, I seek only the name of the traitor within our midst.’
He paused briefly.
‘Needless to say, you Publius will not be asked to fall upon your sword.’
He paused again and motioned for Publius to be seated.
‘But listen well, all of you. There is a traitor among those assembled here. This fact has been reported to me by someone I would trust with my life. I know not at this time who the traitor is but, understand this well, I will find him and he will suffer a long, drawn-out, painful, merciless death.’
He turned and addressed Marcus Annius Verus.
‘As my minister for state security you are charged with the task of identifying the traitor, this disgusting person who professes loyalty to me on one hand and yet is plotting to overthrow me and my government on the other. I give you unambiguous notice now, and so witnessed by my entire Council, that you will expose the traitor and bring him to justice, otherwise my threat to imprison you all will be carried out - is that clearly understood?’
Ezra caught Obadiah’s eye, who experienced a momentary chill. His face froze into immobility. He finally withdrew his gaze and, once again, addressed his cringing ministers.
‘Now,’ he commanded. ‘Let us address today’s business. We have much to discuss.’
Chapter Twenty Eight
Alexander, the much-loved son of Julia Brownstone and Richard Moss, was approaching his first birthday. Since Richard disappeared 11 months and 28 days ago there have been no sightings, no information, nothing to offer any degree of solace. Even Julia, her unshakable persistence and confidence being tested to the limit, was beginning to have doubts at to whether she would ever see the father of her child again. The nightly dreams did persist however and offered a haven of solace each and every time she fell asleep. The latest showed Richard receiving the accolades of world leaders for his brilliant work in persuading recalcitrant nations to support and alleviate the problems relating to global warming, while his attempts to halt the relentless march towards the ultimate destruction of Earth for a second time was taking root on solid ground. But, as with previous dreams, the memory lasted only throughout the hours when sleep overtook her. Nothing of comfort accompanied her during the interminable waking hours when reality set in and the only recollection of Richard was her son’s face which uncannily reflected his image.
‘You must try to get over this,’ cautioned Emily Moss. ‘Alexander will need you more and more as he grows up and, while we all love Richard and pray that he returns soon but, we have to be realistic, it is possible that we will never see him again.’
Julia and Emily were sitting in a café, one of several in the Mall located in the centre of Ambridge Wells. Alexander was sound asleep in his pushchair, despite the noise and passage of hundreds of people being a constant source of disturbance. They have become much closer since the events of almost a year ago, first of all in their efforts to find Richard and later when little Alexander was born and Emily became an aunt, a very proud aunt, for the first time.
‘How are things at work?’ asked Emily
Julia grimaced.
‘Mr. Hunt must be fed up to the teeth with me, all my moaning and groaning and feeling sorry for myself - it must drive him absolutely potty. And the patients - the last thing they want to see is someone looking down in the mouth!’
They looked at each other and suddenly burst into wild laughter. Emily was the first to recover a measure of poise.
‘Fed up to the teeth - down in the mouth! And you - a dental nurse - that’s very funny Jules, even if you didn’t mean it!’
Julia merely smiled. Emily continued, support evident in her voice.
‘It’s good to see you with a smile on your face, at long last. It’s been hard for all of us but more so for you. Look, if ever you need someone to look after Alexander, baby-sitting, that kind of thing, if y’ know what I mean, if you want to go out or anything, we’ll understand...’
Julia stretched and took hold of Emily’s hand.
‘I know what you mean and I appreciate it - very much but, believe me, I’m good.’
She paused.
‘We may have lost Richard,’ she said. ‘But we have each gained a sister - and that makes me very happy.’
They each squeezed the other’s hands in a warm demonstration of friendship.
‘We’re in this together,’ said Emily. ‘You are family now, whether you like it or not!’
Julia grinned.
‘I know.’
Coffees finished they sighed and rose to their feet. Emily shrugged her shoulders and took hold of the pushchair in which Alexander was still nestled, fast asleep. She pushed it resolutely towards the café’s exit.
‘C’mon Jules,’ she called brightly. ‘Let’s take this gorgeous little boy to a shop where his auntie will buy him something new to wear at his first birthday party!’
Chapter Twenty Nine
‘A disobedient and idolatrous people are defeated time and time again because of their rebellion against God. So it is written in the Old Testament.’
Joshua was quoting from the book of Judges, using it to support his passionate belief that Ezra has irrevocably cast aside The Creator and his works and, in His place, has introduced his own perverted version; one which embraces his warped ideas of governance.
Together with his brother Noah he was resting in the former family home in Trastevere, a safe house where they feel relatively secure from arrest by Ezra’s ubiquitous police and military patrols: the same house where they grew into manhood and then grew apart as their political views diverged. The two are now close to reconciliation as a consequence of Noah’s name being prominent on Ezra’s Proscription list. Richard Moss, exhausted after a day of surreptitiously skulking through dangerous streets in the outskirts of Leviticus, has retired to bed.
Joshua, pacing the room restlessly, is wearing a serious look.
‘You saw how Richard Moss reacted at today’s meeting,’ he said. ‘I trust you are aware of how close he is to a breakdown? He is on the very brink and we must be
extremely careful otherwise he will require skilled medical treatment which, because of the circumstances, will be impossible to provide.’
Noah’s fingers twitched nervously, his voice betraying anxiety.
‘I know, I know, and believe me I am as concerned - much more concerned probably - than you or anyone else. I brought him here, I took him to the Coliseum, and it was there that he fell foul of Ezra. He’s entirely my responsibility...’
Joshua interrupted.
‘That is understood, but what are you going to do about it?’ he asked.
Noah shook his head.
‘You know as well as I that there’s little than can be done until Ezra is overthrown. While he and his government are in control there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, that would provide me with the opportunity to take Richard back to Earth.’
He paused, looking his brother directly in the eyes. His own were misty as if preparing for the onset of tears.
‘Do you believe I have become a convert - to LEP that is - to you, your companions and your cause? I need you to tell me that you acknowledge my allegiance. I don’t care about the others, it’s you I need to hear it from. I am ready to join you in your mission to oust Ezra and his cohorts. You must understand that Joshua. Tell me you understand.’
Joshua lifted his shoulders. His long beard seemed to lengthen, covering the gap on his robe created by his upward movement. He smiled.
‘You were never a follower of Ezra as far as I was concerned, and I always knew the time would come when you would join us. It is a pity it required something as drastic as Proscription to persuade the change but it has so done and I am delighted to welcome you to our movement which will inexorably restore democracy to Terra Nova.’
Joshua stood and thrust his arms open wide. Noah rose to his feet and slid one arm around his brother’s shoulder, the other around his waist, they embraced.
Joshua gently patted Noah’s back and whispered confidentially.
‘Together my dear brother, with The Creator’s help, we will prevail.’
***
That night Richard Moss slept undisturbed for the first time since being transported to Terra Nova. He dreamed of his girl friend Julia and the town of Ambridge Wells where he was born and where, for thirty years, he had lived an unremarkable, albeit occasionally sad life. The dream was vivid and included the unhappiness that engulfed his family when his mother and father decided they could no longer live together. The eventual divorce added unwanted closure to their offspring, James, Emily and Richard, who have retained high hopes that their parents will eventually reunite.
The dreams that followed took bizarre forms. He was back in his childhood. The family was as one. The house in which they lived was located on the fringe of the small town where its 4,000 inhabitants lived a happy and peaceful coexistence. But the dreams were odd in that he appeared not to be a direct product of his parents but of some abstract entity emanating from outside the family. His upbringing, while no different from that of his two siblings, was notable because of the precocious intelligence he displayed in his early years. His parents and his teachers were astounded with the progress he made given that, by the time he was five, he had mastered the most advanced mathematics. He took it all in his juvenile stride with no apparent effort. Although there was nothing obvious to substantiate it, he felt he was being guided intellectually by some unseen entity.
More vivid dreams followed throughout the rest of the night which left him feeling comforted. He awoke the following morning completely refreshed, invigorated and ready to take on whatever was required.
Chapter Thirty
Ezra Caelius Aquila, Obadiah Cornelius Scipio and Marcus Annius Verus were seated in ornate armchairs placed around a fat, round, marble table inside Ezra’s private room in the Great Leader’s Secretariat. The atmosphere was tense. The fractious Council of Ministers meeting had closed abruptly when Ezra, whose fragile temper evaporated in direct proportion to his ministers’ lack of resolution on matters of state, stormed from the meeting hall accompanied by Obadiah and Marcus who were both showing signs of extreme nervous anxiety. The meeting had achieved absolutely nothing. Ezra’s latest decrees were accepted without dissent which had the effect of making Ezra fume with anger, albeit if protesting voices had been raised his reaction would have been to become yet more furious or excessively punitive. His ministers knew, only too well, that Ezra expected nothing but complete obedience and, consequently, none would have the courage to dare question any of his latest decrees even if they felt them to be detrimental to the populace of Terra Nova. Ezra’s dictatorial behaviour was now at such a tempestuous level that only his closest advisers were allowed to make anything resembling adverse comment.
Obadiah broke the chilling silence that was saturating the room. He looked at the Great Leader’s expression and decided that Ezra’s anger appeared to have subsided somewhat. He took care to speak reverently.
‘Great Leader,’ he said. ‘I fear your earlier reactions that trust in me is poised tenuously on a balance and that it could fall either way ... ’
Ezra looked up, his eyes were void of expression.
‘... I wish to assure you that I hold you in the highest esteem and that my loyalty towards you is undiminished, in fact it reaches new heights with each passing day.’
Ezra remained aloof, apparently unmoved. Marcus merely swallowed. Both had their eyes fixed on Obadiah.
‘Please Great Leader, accept my assurances for it would pain me beyond death itself if you were to lose trust in me. If there is a traitor among members of your Council of Ministers then he must be rooted out and dragged before you. I will do my utmost, and I am sure Marcus will do the same, to find whoever it is who dares to challenge your benevolent authority.’
Marcus glanced at Ezra and decided it was safe to speak,. He chose his words with care.
‘Great Leader, Obadiah has been one of your closest advisers for many years, his advice and experience have been invaluable. If there is a traitor I tell you now, it is not Obadiah but, be assured, whoever it is we will find him.’
***
The remaining nineteen members of Ezra’s Council of Ministers agreed to carry on with an informal meeting after Ezra, accompanied by Marcus and Obadiah, left them nervous and in fear of their lives. It was Publius Gratius Balbus, the youngest and most inexperienced member, who grabbed the reins of authority and urged his colleagues to resume their seats and concentrate upon determining whether Ezra’s conviction that there was a traitor in their midst was fact or fantasy.
Publius stood by his chair until his fellow ministers retook their seats.
‘We are all under suspicion,’ he said gravely. ‘We saw how angry he is. I attempted to deflect his suspicions but, as you saw, without success. He is sure that somebody within the Council is plotting against him. Although I believe he is wrong, I propose that we all write down, in strict secrecy, the name of anybody for whom they have good reason to suspect of plotting against Ezra, our Great Leader. If the same name or names are written more than once, then we should question that person or persons here and now and, if our questioning leads to unacceptable answers, we will relay the name or names to Marcus Annius Verus, Minister for State Security. It will then be up to him to decide what action is to be taken. Are you agreed?’
The rest of the council members glanced around at each other, nervousness, suspicion, apparent in their manner. The ominous silence was interrupted only by the uneasy shuffling of sandal-clad feet and the continual rustle arising from the voluminous clothing worn by each and everyone seated around the table.
Publius remained on his feet.
‘Well fellow members,’ he asked. ‘Are we agreed?’
The resulting hubbub created by voices expressing both agreement and dissent at Publius’s contentious suggestion made it obvious that there were seri
ous divisions within the Cuncil, divisions which could lead to members being named simply because they had, in previous meetings, caused controversy resulting from naïve or contentious proposals The most senior of the council members, Quintus Claudius Avitus, the highly respected Minister for Justice, was the first to rise to his feet.
‘No, I for one totally disagree,’ he said. ‘Your proposal, if it can be termed as such, is liable to place unjustified guilt upon someone for entirely the wrong reasons...’
His words were drowned in a mounting frenzy of discord.
‘... please - allow me to speak. Your protestations can only be of heard if you remain silent while others make their feelings known.’
Quintus paused. The heat arising from the anger in the room could be felt as tangibly as if it were radiating from a powerful fire. Heads were being shaken, fists were raised, fingers pointed. The atmosphere was diametrically opposite to that which always prevailed when Ezra was in attendance; such was the stultifying effect generated by his omnipotent presence.
Quintus held up his right hand, palm facing outward, seeking to quieten the agitated council members.
‘Silence, please, all of you. For our Great Leader Ezra’s sake let us act as befits our status. We must conduct ourselves as do gentlemen otherwise we will never reach accord. In my role...’
He paused and waited until everyone took their seats.
‘... in my role’ he repeated. ‘As Justice Minister I am privy to all known threats to our Great Leader’s wellbeing. Consequently, I am absolutely sure that no one in this room is guilty of plotting against Ezra. However, there is no doubt that a threat exists and it undoubtedly arises via the organisation known as Licentia ex Persecution. I suggest the threat originates from within that organisation and that someone connected with it is the traitor.‘
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