by T. C. Edge
Because to be brave, you need to first feel fear.
As we stand in our huddle, watching the huge square fill with a sea of people, a familiar face appears.
“Good to see you all here today,” says Deputy Burns, wandering towards us from near the front stage.
Immediately, the guides stand up even more firmly and turn completely still. One or two of the Outer Haveners attempt to do the same. The rest of us just stand there like normal human beings.
“As you will have been told, I will be presenting the ceremony today, seeing as I’ve met you all already. You will be called up, one by one, and presented with a ceremonial plaque. I may also invite you to answer a question or two…”
Jesus Christ. Did I zone out during that bit too?
“Now, I can sense a lot of nerves among you. There is no need for them. This is your day, and you should enjoy it. Your seats are reserved for you over to the right of the stage, set out in alphabetical order.”
I glance at Tess. With a surname like Bradbury, she might well be up first.
Better to get it out of the way early, rather than endure the wait.
“Well, good luck to you all. And remember, the world is watching.”
Great. What a way to sign off to a bunch of nervous people. I thought these Savants were meant to be super-smart?
Deputy Burns moves off, now without his guard of Brutes - here, there’s no such need for them – and moves towards the side of the stage. With a little prodding from our guides, we follow, moving right to the front and a little section of seating set out beneath the stands.
“OK girls, this is where I leave you,” says Sophie. “I’ll be seeing you after. Good luck!”
Off she goes, along with the others, leaving behind a rather confused trail of ten or so Outer Haveners. We move towards the seats, and see that our names are laid out on them. I glance to the front to see that Tess is, as it turns out, up first.
“Nervous?” she asks me.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “Don’t set the bar too high up there.”
She laughs as she wanders over to take her seat, and I drop into mine about two thirds of the way down the line.
From the shadows beneath the stage, we’re pretty much out of sight of the crowd above. I’m happy for that. I had a vague idea that we might all be seated up on the stage, all lined up for so many thousands of eyes to inspect.
Instead, I just need to get my time on stage out of the way. Then I can relax. A bit of socialising here, some chit-chat there, and I’ll be back home before I know it.
From our position, however, the stage is visible, straight off to the left. We all watch as Deputy Burns appears, walking towards a little podium in the same efficient yet rigid fashion that everyone here seems to adopt.
He attempts another of his odd smiles as he goes, his lips rising but his eyes remaining flat. When he reaches the podium, he stands straight and turns his head to the left, then right, like some sort of robot.
Behind him, a giant screen shows a close up of his face, giving those at the back a better view of his awkward attempts to display emotion. I just hope the more easily frightened kids aren’t watching this back at the academy. It’s the sort of thing that will give them nightmares.
“Good afternoon to you all,” he begins, his voice booming through a microphone hovering above the podium. “To all of you present here, and to all of you watching across Outer Haven, I offer you a warm welcome. Today, we are here to celebrate ten brave men and women who acted valiantly in the face of adversity, and to further extend the hand of friendship across the two parts of this great city.”
He pauses suddenly for dramatic effect. It’s jarring. And yet the crowd begin to applaud, clapping in unison, prompted to do so by signs that light up with instructions on either side of the stage.
When the signs turn from ‘Applaud’ to ‘Stop’, the clapping ends abruptly. It’s unnatural and odd, but very much in keeping with what I’ve seen around here.
Deputy Burns continues as soon as a complete silence has fallen once more.
“Before we meet our special guests, let me introduce you to our most esteemed members of the Court. Please welcome, the Consortium.”
More canned applause begins as I look up and see several men and women appear at the balcony above, several storeys up from the stage. They line up, all dressed in pure white, looking down upon the crowd with empty eyes. They appear to have little interest in attempting a false smile.
It’s such a rare sight to see them, these people behind the curtain who pull all the strings. It speaks volumes of this event that they’re here, displaying themselves to the public in a show of solidarity. It suggests that they’re taking the threat of the Fanatics seriously.
In their centre, I see the man who must be Director Cromwell, his hair neat and short and almost as white as his suit. Like all men I’ve seen here, he has no facial hair, his skin pale and yet strikingly smooth given his age.
In fact, were it not for his elderly hands, wrinkled as they are, I’d consider him a much younger man. The same goes for many of the Savants, their faces so lacking in expression that wrinkles are less inclined to develop.
There’s little to differentiate him from the other members of the Consortium but for the small letter ‘D’ that sits within the centre of his insignia. Like all city officials and servants, he wears the badge of Haven below his collar, the inner circle coloured white to indicate that he’s a Savant. On his badge, however, there’s a little ‘D’ in the middle, while the rest of the Consortium have the letter ‘C’.
For a brief moment, the cameras show them all, standing up on their balcony, displayed to the whole of the city across the giant screens that dot it. I look closely at the huge screen behind Deputy Burns as a fresh applause greets their entry, inspecting them closely before the cameras once more centre on our presenter for the day.
The applause dies again, and Deputy Burns continues.
“Three days ago, a terrible atrocity was committed in Outer Haven, at its centre of art and music. We here in Inner Haven are all horrified by this event, and are here today to not only celebrate those who acted so bravely, but to assure you all that everything is being done to prevent any further loss of life.
“This city stands alone as a beacon of hope for all people. Here, we are dedicated to the sole aim of rebuilding this world that has seen so much chaos and turmoil. The fate of the people living here is paramount to us. We will not tolerate wanton acts of destruction and murder.”
He stops, and turns his head to the left, his eyes levelling on us all hidden away in the shadows.
“Now, without further ado, let me introduce our first special guest. Please welcome, Tess Bradbury, a labourer from the western quarter.”
I feel my heart thud as Tess stands up. The world goes deathly silent for a second. Then, when Tess steps into the light, the signs come to life with the word ‘Applaud’, and the artificial clapping fills the air again.
I can barely watch as Tess wanders up to the stage, moving with grace given the unfamiliar heels she’s wearing. She looks calm and assured, her face glowing bright with a smile on the big screen as the cameras follow her towards the podium.
When she arrives at Deputy Burn’s side, he reaches out with his hand and she takes it. Then, from the other side of the stage, a young woman appears carrying a small commemorative plaque. It’s passed to Deputy Burns, who hands it straight over to Tess.
“Congratulations, Tess. It’s quite fitting that you are first up, seeing as you were one of the first on the scene to help. Tell us all, how did you feel when you saw the devastation?”
The little microphone hovers over from Deputy Burns’s mouth to Tess’s. She seems to think for a moment, but somehow maintains her smile, fading a little but still clinging to her face.
Then she speaks, breaking the short silence.
“I felt…like I needed to help,” she says, her voice spreading and echoing down the w
ide street. “There was blood everywhere. People were screaming. I wanted to help wherever I could.”
Deputy Burns nods.
“And you did. Bravo. A fantastic job.”
This time, the crowd appear to begin applauding before the signs have lit. Tess smiles again, brighter this time, and the camera zooms closer onto her gorgeous face.
“And can I just say,” she calls over the din, “that it’s such an honour to be invited here to your wonderful city.”
The applause grows louder. Deputy Burns’s smile threatens to become genuine. And with a little bow, Tess cups her plaque to her chest and is ushered from the stage, soaking up the adoration, false or otherwise, of the masses as she goes.
I shake my head, happy that Sophie isn’t there to reprimand me.
Damn it Tess, I told you not to set the bar too high…
11
Before it gets to me, four further Outer Haveners are called up to the stage.
I barely focus on their introductions, and the very brief interviews that Deputy Burns conducts. I’m too nervous right now to do anything but focus on myself.
By the time the middle-aged man next to me steps up into the limelight, my chest has gone as tight as a drum, and my heart is pulsing with such ferocity that I fear it might well break free from its confines.
My eyes shift in all directions, and my breathing rattles along at a frightening speed. Through my muddled hearing, I’m just about aware of the voices on the stage, and the applause of the crowd.
I focus as hard as I can, take several deep breaths to control my rapid intake of air, and blink hard several times in an attempt to reacquire my vision. Then, as the latest applause fades, I look to see Deputy Burns turning to look at me.
“So, who’s next,” he says. “Ah, yes, we met the charming Tess Bradbury a few minutes ago. Now, it’s her partner in crime, Brie Melrose.”
A new applause begins, and I stand shakily to my feet. Suddenly, my heels feel like they’re about ten inches high, my body trembling as I take my first steps towards the light.
Come on, Brie, get it together.
Just act like Tess did. You don’t want to look a fool, do you?
My little internal pep talk has some effect. I stop for the briefest of seconds in the shadows, take a final breath, straighten up my posture and plant a smile on my face.
Somehow, it seems to do the trick.
Then, I step into the light, and around the corner the wide street and high stands come into view. A sea of faces greet me, all melting into one and spreading far into the distance.
Above the stands, large screens televise my every move, some providing wider angles as I walk, others zooming closer to my face. I note the nerves in my eyes and attempt to lighten up my smile, before turning my attention straight on Deputy Burns ahead.
I manage to reach him without tripping or falling over. I consider that a small victory.
I’m greeted by his unnatural grin, although I’ve seen it enough by now to not be put off by it. At least he’s trying, which is more than can be said for the Consortium above, casting their dull eyes down on me as they trace my steps.
I take Deputy Burns’s hand as I arrive at the podium, and the applause begins to quieten as my plaque is brought out and presented. I take it, happy to have something for my hands to do, and see that it’s nothing but a basic sheet of metal with an engraving of my name on the front, along with the date and location of the attack, and the number of people I helped.
Apparently, it was 8. I hadn’t realised.
When the applause dies, an eerie silence follows. I turn again to look at the crowd, and notice how still everything is, how quiet. Even from towards the back, the tiniest shuffle can be seen and heard.
My eyes shift up again, and I see my giant face plastered across the screens. My smile appears to have evaporated. I quickly revive it, but it doesn’t look as natural and relaxed as Tess’s did.
Deputy Burns’s voice breaks the strange calm.
“Well, Brie, congratulations. How does it feel to be here in Inner Haven? Are you as enthused about the place as your friend?”
I nod, and try to speak, but my words fail me. A second attempt brings a nervous croak from my throat.
“I am,” I say. “It’s an honour to be here.”
“The honour is ours,” says Deputy Burns magnanimously. “Now tell us, Brie, what life is like in Outer Haven?”
I take a breath, and try to hold my trembling body together. My mind rushes fast. I don’t know what do say.
In the end, I give these people what I think they want.
“It’s loud and busy,” I say. “Not calm and tranquil like it is here.”
“I can attest to that,” adds Deputy Burns. “The two parts of this city are very different, and have their own unique charms.”
Damn, why couldn’t I have put it like that…
“It sounds like you’d like to live here one day,” he adds. “Do you think you’d fit in?”
I’m in a corner here.
“I hope so,” I say. “But that’s not for me to decide.”
“Quite right. However, I’m sure there are many young bachelors here who would love to wed a brave and beautiful girl like you.”
Another silence. I see my stupid, awkward smile on the big screen. The camera seems to be drawing in closer, picking up every little detail, every tick and movement of my eyes.
“It would be an honour,” I manage to say.
“That it would. Thank you again, Brie, for your courage and cool head. I hope you enjoy the remainder of your time here.”
He extends his hand again, and I unpeel one set of fingers from my plaque.
As I take a grip of his rigid digits, however, a strange sound of static begins to crackle.
My eyes drift to the nearest screen to see that the image of my face has lost its focus. I turn to the other screens to see that they’re similarly afflicted, the images fading and turning an odd, distorted mix of grey and white and black.
A murmur begins to spread through the crowd as all eyes pick out one screen or another.
“What’s going on?” asks Deputy Burns away from the mic, looking to a technician just off the stage.
The man shrugs, before tapping away at an interface in an attempt to decipher the problem.
“Apologies for the delay, ladies and gentlemen,” announces the Deputy. “We appear to be having some technical troubles. We’ll have them sorted momentarily.”
The crowd continue to murmur, whispering now among themselves. I stand there, still rooted to the spot, wondering if I should move away or not.
Suddenly, the hissing and buzzing grows louder, biting and scratching at my ears. I grimace at the sound and shut my eyes.
It ends abruptly.
The square goes silent once more but for the collective hum of the audience. My eyes open and turn again to the screens. A ripple of confusion swells.
What’s going on?
On the screens now, all is dark. But in the centre, a silhouette remains, blacker than the background, and in the shape of a man.
I turn to Deputy Burns, who looks at the image with the bare whisker of a reaction. But there’s something there: a little frown, a sharper glint in his usually detached eyes.
Then, rumbling out from the screens, a strange, modulated voice echoes.
“I speak on behalf of the Nameless,” it says loudly. “And I speak directly to the oppressed, to all those living across Outer Haven.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Deputy Burns march off to the side of the stage. He talks sharply to the technician, barking orders.
“Your lives are a lie,” continues the voice. “Your freedom is false. Do not give in to fear. The Fanatics are not who you think they are…”
More static burns in my ears. The Deputy hovers over the technician, who taps furiously on the interface.
Through the static, the voice continues, more difficult to hear now as the technician
works to sever the connection.
“We are your friends. We are your salvation. The day of reckoning is coming…”
Across the stage, I hear the technician announce: “Got it.”
As he does, the screens all fade to black once more, cutting off the mysterious voice. Then, flickering, they light up bright. And fill again with my face.
I’m still staring at the screen as my face reappears. I’m certainly not smiling anymore. I’m just staring, and looking pretty dumb, with a heavy frown cutting off half my eyes.
It takes me a moment to properly see myself. I turn to look at Deputy Burns, who comes hurrying back over to me. His weird smile is even more forced than usual.
“Sorry for the interruption, ladies and gentlemen,” he says. “We have been having problems with pranksters recently…”
A flurry of voices sound down by the stage. The crowd still remain in a slight state of confusion, an incessant murmuring and whispering filling the air.
“Excuse me again. One moment,” says the Deputy.
I look to see the same technician beckoning him over, accompanied by several others, as well as some members of the City Guard.
He rushes towards them, and this time I find myself drawn along too. Frankly, I can’t bear it up on that stage alone anymore.
As the Deputy reaches his men, I hear the technician say: “We’ve traced them to the communications mainframe, sir. We think they’re hybrids.”
I note a quiver of rare anger rise up Deputy Burns’s face.
“Send out the Stalkers,” he says.
12
As I stand there, hovering on the edge of the stage, Deputy Burns’s eyes flash back to mine.
“Ah, Brie…perhaps you should step down now,” he says, quickly returning to his usual calm countenance.
I don’t need to be told twice.
With a quick step, I’m off the stage and shuffling into the shadows on the other side. Around me, various technicians dart and run, and members of the City Guard tap on their forearm interfaces or talk into little microphones in their helmets.
