by Phillip Shaw
‘If you do your job well, surround yourself with others of your quality, you will be unbreakable. People will try to say you aren't doing anything with your life but you will know better you will work with modesty, they won't see you they will see the results of your actions, we are the kingmakers. We must seek out our kings and make sure they find their thrones'.
Markus was eighteen when he first met a ‘king'. Henning Kort was highlighted by the society as adept, a vessel for the force of order. He was the only survivor of a terrible bus crash. When the story was pieced together by the police it emerged that Henning had distracted the driver causing the crash. In interviews, there was no motive, no reason for his actions. Markus had been sent in with another society member to act as his legal counsel. He remembered the meeting every day. The man on the other side of the table had a presence. When he looked at them time stopped, breath stopped, they were in his web. The thing was with the training of the society they knew what to expect. He had been warned what happened when meeting an adept, but it still didn't prepare him. Snapper said they were like poles of the earth, they were North and South. You were able to get a bearing on your own life from being near them and they could point you in any direction. If you weren't in the society you would be their simple plaything. Needless to say, the bus driver was not a society member and it had cost him and fifty others their lives. Henning greeted the two men with surprise. ‘How are you going to get me out of this?' Jens the other member took control, ‘it's an honour to meet one such as you, adept, we have already set in motion events which will put you into place'. Henning looked at the two and listened as the mechanics of the plan were laid out in detail. The defence they would use in court, the judge who was also a member and the compensation for wrongful trial. By the end of the process, Henning would have more money and influence than he could handle.
Kings were just the name his society had given them. They were known as something different in every country. People born with the ability to manipulate, to make seemingly ordinary people make decisions that bordered on insanity, the only problem was this ability, this creation given power needed to be controlled, it needed to be channelled. Their role was to prepare the world for the coming of the leader, Arbitan that was where the society stepped in.
If they failed anything could happen. An undiscovered adept loose on the world, attaining full power would upset everything, it could tear the planet in half, when it had happened last people like Snapper had risen up, they had worked silently and returned the world to its path. It could never happen again before the end.
Markus continued down the corridor, a guard greeted him, ‘Magister Sten'. The cold clinical light reminded him of a surgery, in a way he felt like a surgeon, he rooted out the pain; he promoted growth of the good cells and cut out the cancers. In reality, though he was just a porter, a delivery boy, he was at the main hospital but he performed only minor procedures. He stepped into the elevator, one floor up the rest down. He proceeded as normal.
As the lift went down, he cast his mind back to his early days. Markus did this often now. He thought it was necessary. It was why he insisted on travelling by plane and rail. He didn't want his mind to be taken up with the mundane processes of driving somewhere himself. His mind was devoted to reliving all his past experiences, learning from them, redrafting the manuscript of his mind again and again so the next time he was in that position he would do better. He thought of his first partner, Jens and what had happened the night they met their opposite.
The rain had been beating on the car for days. A three-day stakeout outside Henning's building. The snacks and nicotine had not been enough to stave off monotony for Jens and Markus. Markus had no idea what they were doing. All he knew was that the society had received a request from leading businessman Henning Kort. Since the charges against him had been dropped and he had successfully sued the justice system, the society had allowed him to rise to head of an electronics firm. They were headed for wold recognition. Henning had realised his responsibility and was now preparing as he should. But something had him worried, which in itself had set the society on edge. Henning said he could sense a presence, someone who wouldn't be manipulated, somebody who wouldn't follow the path.
The sound of an explosion on the upper floor removed three days of boredom like an ice bath. Jens was first our running towards the house pistol in hand; Markus followed drawing his own weapon. Luger pistol, given by Snapper. They covered the ground to the front door in seconds passing the stunned security already on watch. Passing into the hall the ostentatious decorations lay in tatters, climbing the stairs they saw evidence of the chaos, two guards with their throats pierced and bleeding out silently, ‘too late for them' Markus thought the double doors to Henning's office remained pristine. Too late he called for Jens to wait, as his partner got to the door handle and opened it a wicked blast rose from the floor tearing him in half. The scream from Markus died in his throat when he saw the interior of the office, the explosion hadn't killed Henning it was designed to send a message to flush out anyone near him. It had worked Jens was stain on the ground as Markus entered the office. Henning was tied to his chair, eyes gouged out and lying on the table in front of him, a message in blood was written beneath them. He will control no more. A noise in the corner spun him round, standing there was a nondescript teenager holding what looked like a remote control. Markus raised the pistol by instinct to end it but the teen spoke. ‘Wait, one touch and the room melts.' Markus took a quick scan around the room, sure enough, he could see wires coming from the corners, whatever the kid was holding in his hand would surely be the detonator. ‘I had to kill him, you must know, you must see what he does to people, it's not natural. They do whatever he says nobody should live like that, I won't live like that'. Markus took his chance, why the kid hadn't just incinerated them both on the spot he would never know, the bullet took him in the middle of the face, no need to worry about the remote control, there had been no deadman's switch. The crumpled body fell to the ground and Markus looked around the room. One dead partner, a dead King, and this kid in front of him had done it all.
Markus had learned from that night, he worked alone now as most Magisters did and he didn't underestimate a denouncer. He headed for the briefing.
6. The Guest
‘Excuse me! Excuse me'! Shrilled the middle-aged woman. Bernard sighed, the woman wanted something else. Standing as he had for the last ten years as the head concierge in the Country House Hotel Cumbria, he had learnt to anticipate the requests of guests based on the tone of their voice. The voice of the pampered lady in wellington boots was an easy one. Looking at her he sighed again. He should have been a doctor with his spot diagnosis skills. Exhibit A, wellington boots to breakfast, padded country body warmer, short cut grey hair, too much makeup and the final accessory, spirit broken husband. All in check then this would be a soul destroying request borne by laziness. ‘Waiter can I have my bacon fat cut off'. Bingo! He thought. ‘Certainly madam'.
After the meaningless request was answered Bernard retired to his favoured position, standing to watch the birds out on the lake. He wished he had done something in his life with birds. They were free, they went where they want, they didn't grow old, they didn't fail. He wanted to find a book where every kind of bird was laid out in front of him, he only knew the habits of the ones he saw through the window. One day he would be able to just sit and watch, he would watch every kind of bird. Unlike the avian creatures he longed to watch he'd seen every kind of homo sapien stay at this hotel.
Bernard had actually welcomed the day the hotel was downgraded to a second tier resort. He thought when they had lost a star to go down to four that some of the pretentious patrons would go to other hotels. He was wrong; it seemed to make The Country House more desirable. Bernard had enjoyed this weekend, firstly he had upgraded the young couple celebrating their anniversary to the bridal suite at no extra charge then he had placed the obnoxious family of five in the coldest par
t of the building. It was his way of righting the wrongs in society one guest at a time. Money could buy you anything in this world but you still should be civil to people, especially if they had control over your weekend.
This weekend was the calm before the storm for Bernard. Management had advised that once the normal guests were out of the way he was to reserve the top floor for a visiting dignitary. Some high ranking bank official and his entourage, just the kind of guest Bernard dreaded. There was no fun to be had to manipulate them or knocking them down a peg or two just the usual duties and hopefully he would only see them when bringing them the morning paper. ‘Finance Today no doubt for this one'. Bernard had grunted at management. Bernard wondered if all the years spent in hospitality were worth it. He had wanted to be in the head office or a least a hotel manager by now. Instead, he argued, complained and pushed his ideas to head office with only rejection each time. At sixty years old he was done. Couldn't afford to retire and wasn't old enough to take state pension in this recessive climate.
Penny the attractive chief cleaner of the complex stopped on the way past. ‘Fancy a smoke?' Bernard waited until the stragglers finished the breakfast and left the foreign staff to finish cleaning up. They were good staff to Bernard; he had been instrumental in vetting them as they came in for an interview. He only appointed young beautiful men and women to be staff in the hotel. It was amazing what looks could get you away with. He once saw Petra his Ukrainian soup server spill an entire platter on a group of businessmen. Petra with her perfect body and sharp face had nearly begun crying. Within moments, the businessmen had not only helped her clean up but had personally come to Bernard to give the girl the night off. People were all the same, if only he had looked like one of his staff member's maybe he would have gotten further in his own career.
Penny was waiting out by the air conditioners; again he wished he was more attractive. Since his wife left him he had been lonely. Penny was the closest to a female he could get without looking like a dirty old man. Pity that's exactly what he was when he looked at her. He snapped out of his daydream and walked over. Reaching for his smokes she stopped him with her own. ‘Take mine Bernie'. After their usual discussion of the weekend's guests, the conversation turned to the big arrival expected that evening. ‘I hope they aren't going to be here all week' Penny said ‘I was looking forward to a quiet time of it.' Bernard looked at her just too long before replying with what management had told him. ‘They just said high-ranking bank official, might be male or female. All I know is that they will ruin our week.' Penny nodded in agreement and Bernard wondered why she always shared her cigarettes with him. She was good looking enough to have her pick of the male staff in the hotel. In fact, most of the male guests had made lewd comments under their breath when she passed with the cleaning trolley. He figured she just felt sorry for him.
They said their goodbyes and started the daily routine of preparing the rooms. Bernard got the pleasure of seeing the extra blankets the family of five had needed. Penny no doubt got the pleasure of a multitude of stains in the honeymoon couples bed sheets. All in all normal day until 6 o'clock when he received a call on his cell advising him to gather the staff to receive the visitors.
Standing out in the fading light in the country resort he caught sight of a train of black cars, to him they looked like a train of ants heading towards a picnic basket. He also began to feel a nagging headache.
The first car pulled out and the driver got out. Bernard noticed a few things, earpiece, shades despite the light, and a larger jacket than needed. They were armed. It was normal for a few bodyguards to be armed but as more and more exited the limos Bernard began to feel like an army had just descended on this small part of the Lake District. This was not going to be a typical week. He looked around to the manager's office in the hotel and saw the curtains closed, typical Brian, must have given himself the day off. ‘Lazy bastard' Bernard muttered. He hoped this headache went away it was getting so bad that he couldn't focus properly on the men approaching they all looked to have a pale darkness to their faces as if they had been doing without sleep for a few days. His head pounded as the main vehicle approached. The driver went round to open the door and out stepped his guest.
The first thing Bernard saw was a pair of nude coloured stiletto shoes. He followed his gaze up and collected a matching three-quarter length coat. This was as far as he got because when he got to look at the face the pain in his head started to magnify. ‘Who is this?' he groaned and held his hand to his forehead, sweat began to break on him. Penny beside him must have heard and whispered ‘That is Harley Mackintosh, head of the central bank; she's been in the news because of the recession announcement. She's the one with the idea of how to get the country back on track.' Sure enough, Bernard could see the face of the self-styled saviour of economies but instead of the sharp suit and statuesque brunette he had admired in the newspapers he only saw a pair of eyes.
The eyes moved along the line of staff members and stopped at each in turn. To Bernard's amazement, each of his staff smiled like she was a visiting rock star. They looked with adoration into the face of this creature. Bernard knew he wouldn't give the same reaction; he hated this thing, this unnatural being that had just appeared in his life. The pain in his head grew larger as he could see her gaze approaching him. Suddenly she stopped and stepped back into the car. Immediately the guards around her moved in front of the door and he could see one speak inside. The one who spoke inside turned and stared at Bernard, he moved closer reaching into his pocket. Bernard felt that this was the end; he was going to be shot. The man instead pulled out a cell phone and handed it to Bernard. He answered, ‘Hello Bernard? It's Derek from head office. You can take the week off our guest has requested one of her own staff take control of the hotel for the week. I'm sure you could do with the break, fully paid of course.' Bernard made his answers and walked back to the hotel. ‘What had just happened?' he thought every step eased the pain in his head as he headed towards the staff changing rooms. He felt something very wrong was happening here. He couldn't just leave he had to see what was going on.
Bernard walked up the grey corridor to his private office. Stopping to lock the door he sat down in front of the CCTV console that he normally used to make sure staff didn't steal from the guests rooms or, at least, that's what he had told head office and himself. Now wasn't the time to dig into his dubious morality. He focused on the foyer. There she was again, Harley, on camera, she looked every inch the professional number cruncher. There was no hint of what he had experienced outside, that dark, abyss like eyes, the pounding headache and the feeling that he had to leave to run or if not that he had to end her. Bernard suddenly grabbed himself. He pulled tighter and tighter with his arms until he felt like his chest would burst. Had he really wanted to kill this person? He didn't even know her and here he was he wanted to rip her limb from limb, anything to close those eyes. He turned back to the screen, he looked at his staff, Penny, was literally staring at Macintosh. It was as if she had her under a spell, she was opening the door and following behind giving her a tour of the building. Despite being the cleaner Macintosh seemed to have singled her out as her guide. He had to get to Penny and see what was going on. ‘She will have to take a smoke sooner or later' Bernard said as he turned the camera back to the vehicles outside. Two men had taken up guard at the hotel steps. He zoomed in. they had the same pale expression the others had. Was Penny that colour as well? He went on the hard drive and wound back the tape. He saw himself; his usual gaunt jaundiced self then he looked at his staff, as the eyes had travelled down the line the colour had drained ever so slightly from the people's faces. He had to get out of here and take this with him. Someone must know what was going on. He never felt so alone, so lost and desperate, how was he going to get Penny out especially now that she was designated tour guide to this thing. He started to burn the recording onto a disc and went to pack his case. Whatever he was going to do it would need to be done soon.
> 7. A Way Out
Libero sat in the cell awaiting his lawyer. The hours since he awoke had been revelatory to him as always when he awoke. He had discovered that he was in the presence of a low-level Magister, the prison governor. He had not expected to be in detection range of his enemies until he had amassed his forces. It's not going to be easy he thought as he drummed his restrained hands on the table.
He knew what he had to do; He needed to assess what strength was in this age so he could fight Arbitan. He would release the people of this age, he needed help, the world was in the balance or else he would not have awoken.
The door opened at the end of the room. Pamela walked in. ‘James, we aren't out of this yet.' She said. ‘Now the state governor has become involved in this case and he is talking to the parents, I have a feeling he is still pushing for the death sentence.' Libero had no doubt, by now the Magister had reported this abnormality, a death row prisoner suddenly being forgiven by the parents of his victim, this would make waves it would be felt. Libero knew he needed out of here so he could begin to prepare. He knew the beacon would be making itself felt around the globe. Ordinary people would change dramatically, they would be drawn to him and his enemy, they both had support in this world already but these new-born would be the most dangerous, unpredictable, loose cannons and most worryingly unclaimed, they had untapped potential and ability, but who would release it.
Pamela regarded her client as she always did with a degree of sadness. Here was a man who could have been something, a budding film director with the wit and potential to make it far. One drunken night, one misjudgement and it had all come tumbling down. Now was he getting a reprieve or was this just prolonging the inevitable. I have to save one she thought, too many times she had been down this route before, she told herself that this one would be different, she wouldn't get emotionally connected she could deal with it when their sentence was carried out. Such was the case of the state-appointed defence. Pamela could have a different life, she could be a private defence lawyer, those guys she went to law school with had all went down that path. But not her, no riches and fame for Pamela Harding, just the pro bono work that meant she could sleep at night. Something was different about this case, though, from the start she felt that he was going to live, the crazy scene in the execution room just confirmed it to her, this guy was meant for something else, previously she had sat in the room with the governor of the prison, they had always come to the same conclusion, ‘You're defending the guilty' he said and without fail any hope she had for previous clients evaporated on the spot, all she had done was comfort them. James was different, she had met with the governor but this time, she had opposed him, she had walked into his office that day when James was transferred to the prison and spoke with freedom, it was as if a cloud had been lifted from her vision, she began to work harder, explore every avenue and go beyond her duty to help James, now it looked like there might be light at the end of the tunnel.
