by Helen Brain
“Oh, puhleeze!” Micah exclaimed, and she blushed.
Mr Dermond came closer. “You lot,” he said, pointing his finger at Micah and his friends, “you’re on dangerous ground. Very dangerous ground. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop asking about things you know nothing about and trust that the authorities know best. When your time comes, the authorities will determine who presents the best genetic advantages for breeding. Until then your task is to keep working for the common good.”
“Yes, sir,” Micah said, giving a salute.
Mr Desmond’s face darkened. He dismissed the meeting, and that night Micah disappeared. I was looking forward to seeing him at supper, but suddenly he just wasn’t there. His sabenzis were frantic. I knocked on Mr Dermond’s office door, and begged him to tell me where he was, but he wouldn’t say a word. Nobody would say anything.
We talked about it after lights out.
“What do you think has happened to him?” Fez asked. He’d always admired Micah’s attitude. “He’s so smart. I reckon they’ve taken him up to the top levels, to work with the general, or the High Priest.”
Jasmine’s voice wafted down from the bunk above me.
“They won’t want him up there. He’ll cause trouble.”
It was Letti who said what I was thinking. “They’ve sacrificed him for asking the wrong questions.”
I cried myself to sleep that night and every night for weeks. We never saw him again.
“WHAT ARE YOU thinking about, looking so sad there?” Hal says.
I can’t tell him about Micah because he won’t understand. “My three friends,” I say. “My sabenzi group. I miss them so much. If I went and asked your father, do you think he’d elevate them? They could work on the farm. There’s lots of space there, and they’re all experienced at growing food.”
“Ebba,” he says smoothly, “you may be the richest person in the settlement, and my father would do almost anything you ask, but that’s one thing he definitely won’t do.”
“But he elevated me.”
“You’re different. You’ve been chosen by Prospiroh. We all have. That’s why we live in this settlement, and they live under the ground.”
“But it’s awful down there. It’s dark and depressing and they work all day, and they never see the sky and trees …”
“I love that about you,” he says, taking my hand. “You’re so thoughtful about other people.”
His fingers are entwined in mine, and his thumb is stroking the back of my hand.
“But I miss them,” I say, choking up.
He wipes my tears with his handkerchief. “Don’t cry, beautiful,” he says, kissing my cheek. “One day you’ll understand the wisdom of Prospiroh’s ways. He is a wise and loving God, and you are his chosen daughter.”
His words make me want to squirm. They don’t sound real. They sound like some cliché he’s learnt off by heart.
HAL DROPS ME at home and I can’t stop thinking about Jasmine, Letti and Fez. Why are they still underground? It’s not right. I’m sure if Fez was out in the fresh air he wouldn’t cough so much.
The High Priest has been so kind to me. He even wants me to live with his family at the compound. Surely he’ll elevate the three people I love? I decide that I’ll go and ask him personally.
That evening as we’re having supper, I ask Leonid to drive me to the shrine offices first thing in the morning.
Aunty Figgy stops with the soup ladle in mid-air and glares at me. “That’s a stupid thing to do.”
I knew she’d say that, but I don’t care. She’s a superstitious old woman who has no idea what’s going on in the settlement. I haven’t told her yet that the High Priest has invited me to live with them. I can imagine how she’ll freak out.
“I’m sorry you don’t approve,” I say firmly, “but I’ve made up my mind. Leonid, please be ready by nine.”
Next morning, dead on time, he brings the buggy around.
Aunty Figgy comes to say goodbye. She nods as she looks at my turquoise silk robe. “It suits you.” She touches the amulet and whispers some words.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m asking the Goddess to protect you. And Clementine will be there if you call on her. Remember that.”
An hour later we’ve passed the shrine and are driving along a road that clings to the mountain. It ends at the bottom of a long flight of stone stairs guarded by eight marble lions. A statue of the High Priest astride a horse stands on a column. He’s gazing over the sea towards the mainland, lording over everything he rules.
What am I doing? This is all too scary. I should just go home and forget about my sabenzis. But it’s too late.
A soldier approaches the buggy and Leonid jumps down and takes off his cap. “Miss Ebba den Eeden to see His Righteousness, the High Priest.”
The soldier disappears into the guardhouse. I can see him in discussion with someone. A moment later, a soldier I recognise as Captain Atherton from the colony comes over and salutes. “Follow me, Miss den Eeden.”
It’s a long way up the steps, and the stone lions stare down at me like they want to eat me. At last I reach the top, and pass through the rows of columns. Captain Atherton knocks with his rifle on the arched door, and it swings open.
Like the colony, the palace has been dug out of the mountain. But where we had bare stone walls and a hard floor, everything here is luxurious. The walls are hung with tapestries and cloths. Rich carpets cover the floor. Instead of stale air and sweat, these rooms are filled with the sweet smell of incense. Light shines in through domed skylights.
I follow the soldier past an office where important looking men sit hunched over registers, writing down numbers or in earnest discussion. At last we reach a door inlaid with gold discs. The soldier knocks again.
“Come,” says a voice.
The door swings open and Lucas stands there.
“Miss den Eeden!” he says, wringing his hands. “Please, er, come inside.”
He takes me to a sofa covered in a deep-red rug. “Wait here.”
We may be in a cave but there’s a huge window looking out over the sea. Below us, the waves crash against the wall, battering the rocks, throwing foam into the air. I think of the broken bodies I glimpsed from the ventilation shaft, and immediately shut the image out of my mind. I’m here for a purpose. I mustn’t get distracted.
I perch on the edge of the sofa, practising what I’m going to say to the most important man in the federation. How can I persuade him to give me what I want? I don’t want to anger him. I decide I should start with the smallest request and see how he takes it.
A door opens, and the High Priest comes sweeping in, in a voluminous white robe with gold rings embroidered around the neck. I jump up. He glides across the room, holding out both arms.
“My dear Ebba! How wonderful of you to come and visit me. Is this a social call?” He claps his hands. “Lucas, bring refreshments.”
Lucas bows and hurries out of the room. The High Priest gestures towards two armchairs set right in the window. “Have a seat, my dear. Now how are you getting on? It must be an enormous adjustment. It’s such a lot for a girl your age to handle.”
He looks at me as though I’m the only person in the federation who really matters.
“I’m doing well, Your Righteousness,” I say. “Thank you for asking. You’re right, it’s been a huge change, but Hal is helping me so much. He visits nearly every day, and he’s teaching me to read and write so I can keep proper records. We’ve planted the seeds for the winter crop and hopefully Leonid will transplant them next week …”
Everything seems of utmost importance to him. Nobody has ever listened to me like this before. His hands play with a string of dark-red beads, running them through his strong fingers one by one. It’s oddly soothing, and I think how much I’d like a set to play with.
As though he’s reading my mind, he gets up and goes over to Lucas’s desk. He hands me a string of jet
-black beads on a tasselled cord. “For you,” he says. “A gift from me, and my family. They are called worry beads.”
He’s so kind. If he can give me a beautiful set of worry beads like this, he’ll look kindly on my request, I’m sure. I begin to relax.
Lucas comes in with a tea tray. His hands shake as he pours for us and then creeps back to his desk, trying to be invisible. I can’t work out why he’s so nervous. Is it because of his father? Or because I’m here and I’m supposedly “evil”?
I take the plunge. “Your Righteousness …” My mouth dries up, so I take a sip of tea, and burn my tongue. “I have so much empty land. I need to develop it, but I don’t have enough labour.”
“Yes?” he says. “My dear, you don’t need to come to me for something like that. Just ask Mr Frye to organise you some new staff. He’ll find some good people from the mainland.”
“I … I need someone who knows about horticulture. I was thinking about Jasmine Constable. She was with me in the colony. We worked together in the plant nursery and there’s nothing she doesn’t know about growing food. You see, if we can get skilled people to work with the plants, then I can focus on –”
“Jasmine Constable?” He steeples his fingers, his hooded eyes searching mine. “Hmmm. I wonder. Is this wise?”
“Oh yes, Your Righteousness.” I can hear the begging in my voice and I try to speak more firmly. “You see, I have to have someone I know and trust. I need someone who will know what to do if I’m not there, especially if I accept your very kind offer to move to your compound.” I know I’m about to be disloyal but I say it anyway. “Mr Frye isn’t very happy with the staff I have at the moment, and I’m not sure how much I can rely on them.”
His eyes narrow. He’s trying to read my face. I try not to look desperate.
The High Priest comes to a sudden decision. He sits up and writes something in a small notebook. “As you know, Ebba, we have very strict immigration laws in Table Island. Any outsider who wants to live within the settlement’s wall has to fulfil certain requirements and apply for a permit. If we elevate … what is her name?”
“Jasmine Constable, Your Righteousness.”
“Yes, Constable. She will not be given citizen status. She may not dwell in your house, but must live in the servants’ quarters, which must be separate from your house. You may not socialise with her. She may not leave your premises without her pass, which may be checked at any time.”
“Yes. I understand.”
“And you will have to pay a special tax for her because this is an unprecedented case.”
“A tax?”
“You will be required to pay to the shrine an extra forty per cent of all your earnings from your land. This is payable quarterly and is required to make up for lost labour capacity in the colony. A bookkeeper will be assigned to you to oversee the financials. Do you still wish to go ahead?”
Forty per cent. That’s such a lot. But I’m really rich. I can manage on what is left, especially if I’m making more from the new land. “Yes, Your Righteousness. I want to go ahead.”
“Lucas,” he calls across the room. “Make a note. See that Constable is equipped with the necessary documents and delivered to Greenhaven Farm.”
Lucas is hunched like a vulture at his desk, paging through a notebook. His leg is jiggling nervously. He glances at me, picks up a gold-topped quill pen and begins to write.
“Now is there anything else, dear?” the High Priest says.
I take a breath and wipe my sweaty palms on my robe. “Please, Your Righteousness. I have another request. I grew up with my sabenzis – the four of us were together from when we were babies. I … miss them. It’s lovely up here on Table Island, and everyone has been so kind to me, but there were four of us together down there and …”
“You’d like to pay a visit to the colony? I’m sure that can be arranged. Lucas, check the diary.”
I swallow hard and try to stop my voice cracking. “No, more than that. I want them to come live with me, at Greenhaven.”
“On your farm?” He laughs. “My dear, that’s just not possible. We can’t just elevate anyone at a whim.”
“But I was elevated. And you’ve agreed to let Jasmine out …”
“Yes, my dear, I know that,” he says irritably. “But you were chosen by Prospiroh. You are the blessed one in his eyes. And I’m allowing Constable out because of her skills.”
I feel the tears rising. “So I have to live up here without them? They’re my family.”
“My dear, don’t whine. It’s very ungrateful after all Prospiroh has given you. Nobody likes an ungrateful girl.” Then his voice softens. “You must forget about them. We are your family now. And if Prospiroh so desires, you’ll marry and start a family of your own. Don’t you want that?”
He doesn’t get it. I feel the tears start to trickle down my face. He leans forward and wipes my cheeks with his handkerchief. “Dear, dear,” he murmurs. “So many tears about nothing. I’m sure we can make a plan.”
“Really?” I sniff. “Can you make an exception?”
“My dear,” he says, “it’s not up to me. It is all in the hands of our Lord God Prospiroh. He has blessed you so richly already and now you ask for more? This won’t please him.”
I shift uncomfortably in the soft cushions. I am being greedy. That’s wrong. “I’m sorry,” I say, “but it means so much to me.”
He stares out of the window, deep in thought. His fingers thread through the beads one by one. “There might be a way,” he says at last. “If you were prepared to make a small sacrifice – to thank Prospiroh for his generosity to you. He would look kindly upon your request, I am sure. “
“Anything,” I say. Is he going to say yes?
His eyes are fixed on mine, and I feel the rest of the room disappearing as I focus on his pupils. He doesn’t blink as he holds out his hands. I don’t want to hold his hands. But our eyes are locked, and I have to. I hold his hands and watch his lips.
“Prospiroh commands me,” he says, “to release your friends. They can be up here tomorrow, but …”
I’m overjoyed. I’m about to leap up and hug him when I remember he hasn’t told me what my sacrifice is. I bite my lip.
“But you will have to pay.”
“Pay what?”
“Just a small thing. A piece of jewellery.”
I freeze.
He points to the amulet. “Prospiroh requires that trinket you’re wearing around your neck.”
“This one?” I gulp, tucking it under my robe. “But it’s not that special. I’ve got much more valuable jewels at home.”
His eyes stare into mine. “Then you won’t miss it. Take it off, and your friends will be with you by morning.”
From the corner of my eye I see Lucas’s leg jiggling faster and faster. I remember how he said the amulet was a witchcraft symbol. Something doesn’t add up. Why does the High Priest want a witchcraft charm so badly?
I feel the amulet burning on my breastbone. “I can’t give you my necklace,” I say. “It belonged to my mother. It’s the only thing I have of hers.”
“Oh, nonsense,” he scoffs. “Your house is full of things from your family. And you are choosing a commonplace little charm on a cheap chain over your friends. What kind of girl are you, Ebba? I thought better of you.”
“I … I’ll have to think about it,” I say blushing. I get up to go. I’m so confused. Something isn’t right, but I can’t work out what. Lucas is waiting already, holding the door open. As I reach it, I turn. The High Priest is standing against the window. Light is streaming in from behind him. He looks like I imagine Prospiroh himself might look, in his white robe, with his hair glittering in the sun.
“Great favour demands great sacrifice,” he says, opening his palms. “He who gives generously will be rewarded a hundred times more, overflowing, too great for measure. But he who withholds what belongs to Prospiroh will feel his eternal wrath.” And he disappears through the
interleading door.
Lucas walks me back down the long passageway. He’s like a bird with his long legs and beaked nose, I think. Not like Hal at all. At the top of the stairs he pauses.
“You are going to need more staff,” he says curtly. “I’ll arrange to have some labourers sent over to Greenhaven with the bookkeeper.” He nods and turns back through the doorway, hurrying away as though he can’t wait to get out of my presence. If he thinks I’m so bad, why is he nervous around me? He seems to swing from being imperious and judgemental to scared when I’m near him. I wish he was easy-going and cheerful like his brother and sister.
It’s a relief to see Hal waiting at the colonnade. “They told me you were here,” he says, taking my hand and walking me down the stairs. “So, when are you moving in?”
“Um … we haven’t made a date yet.”
“Then what were you talking about?” he says, slightly irritated. “I thought you were here to talk about coming to live with us.”
I’m squirming as I tell him. “I can’t move to the compound, Hal. I need to get the farm running properly. We were talking about staff. Don’t be grumpy,” I say, squeezing his arm. “I’ve got wonderful news. He’s agreed to let my best friend Jasmine out of the colony. She’s going to be working with me on Greenhaven.”
He stops dead. “You’re joking, right?”
This is making him angrier? What’s going on?
“We agreed you’d move to the compound,” he snaps.
I stare at him. “I never agreed to anything,” I say, but his scowl deepens, so I lighten my voice. “Come on, Hal,” I say, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Don’t be an old grouch. Someone’s got to grow the food you like to eat. If I’m not there – or someone I trust – there’s no knowing what those two would get up to on the farm.”
He looks slightly appeased. “Okay,” he says at last. “You can stay there. Just until you get the farm settled. Then you’re coming to live here, with us, where we can look after you.”
We’ve reached the bottom of the stairs. I look back. The High Priest is standing in the window, watching us.
FOR ONCE, AUNTY Figgy is pleased with me. “Well done, Ebba,” she says when I tell her Jasmine is being elevated. “That’s wonderful news. You need to be around your old friends, people you can be yourself with.”
