It was not just familial expectations that made him determined to be one of the Ten. The Ten were provided better beds, more food and were generally better trained than the other boys. This meant that the lower ranked boys were always hungry, both literally and figuratively, to become one of the Ten. It also meant that as every day passed, it became harder to displace one of the Ten. Ranking on Assessment Day and keeping your Rank past first year usually meant you would stay in the Ten until graduation.
He would not, could not fail.
His reverie was broken as he turned a corner and saw the massive sandstone doors of the Desert Gate. The Desert Gate always stirred a fierce pride in him. We was proud of being one of the Guest, and proud of the improvements that the Host had wrought in his people. The engineering required in the design of the functioning stone gates, fifty feet high and three feet thick, was astonishing. The engineering, however, was secondary to the awe-inspiring artistry. The Guest were responsible for both the engineering and the artistry, but the Host were responsible for making the Guest capable of such fine work.
The gate was carved with a depiction of Emergence. It showed Idaam, Hael’s great to the power of eighty grandfather leading his people out of the desert. The figures were double life-sized and so cunningly carved that one could be forgiven for thinking the City was being invaded by stone giants pushing their way out of the gate. The carving was not only beautiful, but it was a tangible reminder of the Debt that his people, the Guest, owed the Host. The Desert Gate was the point through which they had first entered the city and pledged their service to the Host and re-pledged service each year during Renewal. In return they were granted the privilege of being guided, molded and sheltered by the Host.
Gathered in front of the Gate were two hundred or so boys, the boys he would be competing with for a place in the Academy and ultimately a place in the Ten. Caleb, his sparring partner, his comrade in arms, his confidante and, most importantly, his best friend, was easy to spot; he loomed over the other boys. His primitive visage made it look like he had stepped out of the bas relief on the Gate behind him, untouched by the eighty generations of improvements that the Host had wrought on his people.
Caleb smiled at Hael’s approach and held out his hand. They grabbed each other’s forearms and hugged each other. They nodded to each other and started to stretch.
They knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Hael knew that many a bully had made the mistake of assuming that Caleb’s large size and unrefined appearance were an indication of physical and mental slowness. Hael knew better; Caleb’s intelligence and strength made him a strong contender for a position in the Ten. The best thing that could happen today would be for them both to make it into the Ten. Having a friend in the Ten rather than just another rival would be a huge advantage for both of them in the competitive world of the Academy.
Hael took a spot beside Caleb and looked up to the steep roofs topping the turrets flanking the Desert Gate; they were still in shadow. Once the highest roof tile was kissed by the sun the race would start.
There was no one to tell them to start and no one to prevent them from starting early, but they were being observed. If a boy left too early, he could be penalized. If he waited for the other boys to start, he would give away a critical advantage. They would learn in the Academy that every Test tested multiple criteria. This was no simple race; it was also a test of judgment.
Hael took his place at the gate and looked up, his entire being focused on the turrets. He could hear a couple of boys start to run, but he ignored them and waited. He saw a glimmer of sunlight on the highest tile then started to run.
There was no fixed route from the Desert Gate to the Academy. The most direct route would be the most congested. The boys were not prohibited from interfering with each other, and anything not prohibited was fair game.
Hael would take the secret route that his family had been using for generations. It was a route so secret he had not even told Caleb about it. For the route to remain secret he needed to slip away from the pack and Caleb. He had started strongly to put some space between him and the pack. Many would think his initial burst of speed foolish, as it would tire him too soon, but he needed to get to a certain alley when not in view of his fellow competitors, an alley that was bound by the rough stone wall at the back of a bakery.
Most of the buildings in the City were made of smooth stone blocks that were difficult, if not impossible, to climb. The back wall of this specific bakery was different. The rumor, according to Hael’s father, was that the bakery had been built by one of his ancestors after retiring from the Legions and he had bribed a builder from the Ministry of Hospitality to fit the blocks poorly, creating a wall that was rough enough to climb. The alley wall was a gift to his descendants. The gift had a price; the builder revealed the bribe when the wall failed the inspection and he and Hael’s enterprising ancestor had both been cursed and had their names and deeds deleted from the Guest rolls. According to Hael’s father, the wall had not been repaired, as the Host had felt that the punishment paid for the advantage it provided to Hael’s family. Hael was not sure whether the story was true or not, but he knew that his ancestor would have faced his punishment with a smile on his face at granting an advantage to his descendants. Hael knew that his father had used the wall, and his older brother Lucan had used the wall and he knew that young Bral would use the wall as well when he took part in Assessment Day two years hence.
All for a few finger and toe holds on a wall, what use was a rough stone wall, you may ask? The wall was a way to access the untraveled high road, the roofs of the City itself.
Hael made it around two corners and ducked into the correct alley and climbed the wall to the roof of the City.
Hael could see the Academy in the distance as he pulled himself over the lip of the roof and lay on his back for a moment to recover from the climb. After three deep breaths he jumped up and ran along the tiles towards the first alley. There were dangers involved in roof running. The tiles could break or slip. There was a need to jump many narrow and some not so narrow alleys. A fall from the roofs would result in injury, death or, even worse, not getting placed in the Academy by not finishing the First Test.
The alley loomed ahead of him as he prepared himself to jump. He pushed down and back with his mind as his feet left the edge of the roof and he sailed into the air. The added boost provided by his mind allowed him to clear the alley easily. He settled into a rhythm of run, push, jump, land and run again.
The roof route was not particularly strenuous for him, due to his remarkable mental strength. He was not able to actually levitate himself — even one of the One Hundred Companions would find that challenging — but his mental pushes made leaps of fifteen feet much easier. No doubt the route would have been much more difficult for most of his forebears; his mental strength was unmatched by any of the Guest he knew about. The risk of roof running was worth it, as it allowed Hael to strike directly for the center of the City rather than follow the winding roads his competitors were forced to take.
As he got closer to the administrative center of the City the streets and alleys widened and he needed to, once again, take to the ground. Here again his mythical ancestor’s foresight proved itself useful as the secret roof route ended at the Central Canal that circled the Administrative Quarter of the City.
He did not pause as he reached the edge of the building bounding the canal, but ran off the edge of the roof, pinching his nostrils closed and squeezing his eyes shut. The feeling of vertigo ended as he plunged into the water and swam to the other side of the filthy canal. The canal not only allowed Hael and his ancestors to descend quickly from the roof route, it also served to obscure the route itself, as he and his immediate family always arrived at the Academy stinking of canal water. Some families had incorrectly assumed that Hael’s family had developed some oddly effective swimming ability to reach the City center quickly. Investigating this possibility had led to more than one cas
e of canal fever.
On pulling himself from the canal, he noted that the streets appeared cleaner, closer to the powerful center of the City and Empire. The relative cleanliness may have been due to additional work crews, civic pride or just because the wider roads provided the detritus more room to spread out.
He rounded a corner and had his first glimpse of the ziggurat that housed the Academy. He started to see the other boys running in the same direction as he. It looked like he was near the front of the pack. He dug deep and increased his speed. He concentrated on the rhythmic chuff of his breathing.
Two breaths in, one breath out.
Two breaths in, one breath out.
His arms and legs moved without thought as he steadily moved past his competitors.
Hael’s field of vision increased as he burst into the square surrounding the Academy. Looking ahead, he saw that five boys had already arrived at the Academy steps. Another four were almost there. Following these four was a gap and then the large figure of Caleb, who was followed by Hael.
Hael felt his heart clench. Only one of them would be in the Ten and Hael needed to make sure it was not Caleb.
He lowered his head and leaned forward, pulling on all of his physical reserves.
He started to close the gap. Hael lengthened the rhythm of his gait to match that of Caleb. He stretched out his senses and felt the powerful beat of Caleb’s heart, and his own heart slowed to synchronize with it. The cadence of his breath coming in and out of his lungs matched that of Caleb.
Hael could feel the bond form, he was ready
He focused and jerked his body to the right. Caleb stumbled to the right as the sympathetic bond Hael had created pulled him to the side. Caleb was overbalanced and tried to use his forward momentum to keep going. Hael reached out and put his hand on Caleb’s shoulder and vaulted over him, pushing him face first into the cobbles.
Hael looked over his shoulder and saw the large boy on his knees, his face a mask of blood. Caleb grimly climbed to his feet and resumed running.
Hael made it into the Ten.
He also lost a friend and probably made a mortal enemy.
There is always a price.
Two figures stood at the top of the ziggurat. They were shielded from view. Only one of the powerfully adept, possibly one of the Emperor’s inner circle, his One Hundred Companions, would have been able to detect them through the shielding ward. Or one of the Feral; one never knew with the Feral.
One of the figures was Guest, and the many decorations on his uniform indicated that he had risen very high in the military. The other was Host, shorter and more powerfully built. His uniform was no less decorated; however, the decorations were richer, more ornate.
The one who was Guest spoke. “It looks like he has arrived. I expected him to rank higher than Ten.”
The one who was Host looked at him and spoke directly into his mind.
Zabab –> Donta: Why must you speak aloud, Donta? How did you rise so high with such terrible manners?
“I rose through my prowess on the field and my ability to slay the Feral, as you well know. We may be observed. Your kind can more easily pluck thoughts out of the ether than our words out of the air.” Donta smiled. “And I know how it annoys you, my dear Zabab.”
Zabab –> Donta: Fine, verbalize like an animal if you wish. You really think he is the one we have been waiting for?
“I do, his pedigree, his strength and his character are exactly what we have been waiting for.”
Zabab –> Donta: You are sure it is him, not one of his brothers?
“Pah. The older one is too cruel and the younger too meek.”
Zabab –> Donta: I think this one is not cruel enough. Will he be able to do what needs doing?
“My dear, Zabab, that is what we are here for, to mold the minds of the young. We will make him strong, cunning, quick and, yes, cruel as well. If we can’t we will break his mind and reassemble it however we please. We are his teachers for Ancestors’ sake. You saw what he did down there. I have been monitoring him; that other boy was like a brother to him. If something stands in his way, he will sweep it away, just as he did to his childhood friend.”
Zabab –> Donta: I suppose he did show some mettle. There is much at stake.
“Unlike you, I needed to be bold to reach my position; I was not born to it. We need boldness now if we are to prevail. When the time comes for us to rebuild from the ashes, I will take your council, but for now you must take mine so we can burn it down.”
Zabab –> Donta: Agreed.
For now, Zabab thought to himself.
Chapter 3
Edinburgh, Scotland, 2015
A female voice with a slight Welsh accent woke him. “Call coming in from Lindsay MacDonald,” the voice said.
He sat up. He should take the call; Lindsay was his executive assistant.
“Answer,” he said, then after a slight pause, “Morning, Lindsay.”
“Good morning, Mr. Alexander. I thought I would call, as I did not see you online. Is everything OK?” She sounded concerned.
“Yes, Lindsay, just a bit of a rough night.”
“Rough? Are you sure you’re OK? Should I send someone round?” Like all competent executive assistants, she was very protective of her employer.
“No, no, I am fine. Really.”
“Well, if you say so,” she said, but he could still hear worry in her voice, mixed in with a little doubt. “I’ll have some croissants and coffee delivered in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, that would be marvelous. What do I have on the docket for today?”
“Today is fairly clear. The results of the latest prototypes have been sent to you. It looks promising. There is a forty five percent increase in responsiveness.”
“Forty five, hmm, I was hoping for more. I’ll review it and go through the specs again.”
“You also have a meeting with Blacksun to discuss the five-year roadmap. I’ve posted the latest version of the report for your review. Could you let me know if you have any updates by noon, so I can incorporate them in the version I distribute to them?”
“I am sure it is fine, but I will take a peek. They should be happy. I expect we will be able to roll out the new line of prosthetics in the first quarter of next year. We just need to solve the responsiveness issue with the new sensors.”
“I am sure you will, Mr. Alexander. You always do.”
“Oh stop, Lindsay, we are all part of CySen, all part of the team.”
“If you say so, Mr. Alexander.” He could hear the smile in her voice. He had founded the company and the majority of the patents were in his name. Without him there would be no CySen.
“I better get working. I’ll look at the presentation for Blacksun first.”
“Thank you, Mr. Alexander. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do, bye.” He paused for a couple of seconds and then said, “End call.”
He reached for his mobile phone on the nightstand and checked the custom app that monitored the power levels of his leg and arm. They were still only seventy percent charged, a testament to the drain his evening activities had taken. The Taser was linked into the batteries that powered his arms and legs.
He would need to design some new wires that could take the amperage delivered by his Taser. Last night, the wires had melted while delivering the current to his newest subject, luckily after she lost consciousness. If the wires had failed slightly earlier he would not have woken up this morning. He couldn’t just increase the gauge of the wire. The wires needed to be lightweight enough to stow in the compartment in his left hand. The range of the weapon would also decrease as the weight of the wires increased. Ah well, a problem for another day; his day job was calling. He did not anticipate needing the Taser anytime soon; his newest subject was the one he had been waiting for.
He logged into his laptop and pulled up the product roadmap that he had been working on for Blacksun.
Blacksun was
the venture capital firm that had bankrolled his little start-up twenty years earlier. The first few years had been tough. He had not minded the long hours; he knew he would personally reap the rewards of any technological advances he made, as well as the wealth that would allow him to withdraw from the rest of humanity.
As he became more successful, he was able build his current home and was able to deal with people remotely more often. He had completely gutted the building on Johnson Terrace and had it rebuilt so that he could be effective. The cutting edge communications equipment in his office made him completely accessible and also allowed him to monitor everything that was going on in his main R&D plant located on the outskirts of the city. CySen, short for Cyber Sensors, now employed close to five hundred employees and his product, prosthetics, had made a difference in the lives of hundreds of thousands of amputees around the world.
“There is someone at the door.” The voice came from a speaker hidden in the ceiling above his desk. There were speakers in every room that his home system used to alert him to people at the door, people trying to reach him on the phone or even to remind him that it was time to eat or sleep — when he struggled to resolve a problem he tended to lose track of time and his surroundings. He had given his house system a voice that he could not ignore.
He picked up his phone and checked the feed from the cameras that covered the area of street outside his front door. The coffee and croissants had arrived. He buzzed the delivery boy through his outer door and watched him leave the package in front of his inner door and leave. He waited for the outer door to close and lock before he made his way down to collect his breakfast.
Lindsay had done a great job on sexing up the roadmap document for Blacksun with images and some discreet animations. That is not to say he did not have comments; he always had comments. If he sent back something to his staff without comments, they would probably think he had not read it.
Ancient Evil (The First Genocide Book 1) Page 6
