by T. C. Edge
“And you think it’s easy for the rest of us?” asks Jackson. “You think your powers give you the right to act like a vigilante, acting judge, jury, and executioner. They don’t, Link. I have my whole family fighting with The Guardians in Agricola but, much as I’d like to, I will not go out there with my own strike force to defend it unless by express command of this council. We have limited resources, and how they’re managed is essential to our success. If you leave now, and are defeated by a Seeker, then you might just be dooming us all.”
The two men stare at each other for a moment, going quiet. I can see both sides of the debate, understand both points of view. My heart agrees with Link. I want to be out there doing what I can. My head, however, sides with my father; right now, a single false move could sink us all.
“We’re very different, Jackson,” says Link eventually. “We always have been. I respect you, you know that, and I know you’ve done some great things. But I’ve spent my entire adult life saving lives, and I’m not about to stop now.”
The room grows quiet again, as he turns and walks calmly to the door. I see Ajax staring at him as he goes, a weighty frown falling over his eyes.
“Dad…” he says.
Link doesn’t turn. He opens the door, and begins moving away. Ajax calls again, but it’s his mother who answers. She turns to Ajax, then to the group.
“I’ll go after him,” says Ellie. “I’ll talk him round…”
She scuttles off, the door being shut by the soldiers behind her. A fresh silence swamps the room, until Markus’s voice rises up.
“These are hard times for all of us,” he says. “Link has always acted alone, and isn’t a military man. His passion is something for us all to admire, and yet on this matter, Jackson is correct. We must stand together or not at all.”
All those remaining in the room begin to nod in agreement. Only Ajax, to my side, looks on at the door forlornly.
“When we spoke on this matter before,” says Drake, “we concluded that we’d need our full strength against these Seekers. As it stands, Athena and Velia remain in the West. They are having some success gathering more forces, men and women who we may end up counting on. Until they return, we must all stay here.”
His eyes flash to mine, the irony of his words not lost on me. Because only days ago, he was instructing me to head towards the regions alone, to leave the city without any support and meet with the most dangerous foe we have. Drake, clearly, is willing to bend his own rules when needed.
There appears to be little more to say, the sting pulled from the tail of this particular gathering. At the moment, it’s really the military commanders who rule the roost, their expertise and strategies designed to send countless soldiers out to their deaths, the pawns in this colossal game of chess.
And yet, I’m under no illusions about whether that’s right or wrong. In war, such lines are blurred, a single decision potentially costing the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands, of soldiers and civilians alike. A mistake, too, can be just as costly, and what might appear to be the right move could, in the long run, turn out to be the very thing that destroys us all.
Link, for example, might leave the city and fight the good fight, doing what he was born to do, saving hundreds of people. But then, out there with only normal men and women for support, he might run into a Seeker or two, who’d perhaps spied him in a vision mowing down the Baron’s men.
He’d have no choice but to fight, so far from home, so far from the support we couldn’t provide. And if he died, leaving us without our most powerful warrior, we’d be all the weaker for it. Who knows, maybe that would be the catalyst to signal the Baron’s victory, the victory of evil, the victory of Knight.
Things are never so black and white in war. A valiant move by a hero like Link could doom us all. Or maybe he’d find a Seeker himself and take them out, giving us the upper hand? Maybe he’d go on a personal crusade of revenge, lighting the path for the rest of us to follow.
At the end of the day, it’s all ifs, buts, and maybes. And for military men like Jackson, or Drake, or Markus or the two Generals, that’s not good enough. They deal in strategy, in firm planning. That’s how wars are fought.
The meeting concludes with a whimper, as the commanders go off to continue coordinating the war effort. As everyone files out of the room, however, Drake calls out to Ajax and me.
“Boys, would you stick around a moment…”
I see Cyra looking on suspiciously.
“Nothing to worry about, Cyra,” says Drake. “I just want an update on their time in the valleys…”
My mother looks far from convinced still, but is well used to her father’s devious ways.
With Markus and Jackson in conversation across the room, Drake leads us through into his own quarters, shutting the door quietly to give us some privacy.
“It doesn’t look like mum’s buying the lie, grandfather,” I say.
He shakes his head and offers a rueful smile. “She’s not easy to deceive, and I don’t exactly feel great about it. But let’s not get into that. Tell me what happened. Did you find him? Did you talk?”
Ajax and I share a look.
“We did,” I say. “He…he’s conflicted, so full of rage. On another day he might have killed us.”
“You fought him?”
“Briefly,” says Ajax. “We lasted longer than I’d have expected, actually.”
“But he didn’t try to kill you?”
“No. There’s something there, grandfather, a connection. I told him about mum, about who he really is.”
“And how did he take it?”
“Hard to say. He looked so confused and then just…ran away into the night. So, now what?”
“The seed is planted. Now, we have to let it grow…”
As we talk, a sudden rush of noise behind us breaks us from our quiet conversation. We all swing our heads around to see my father pouring through the doorway. He stares at us with narrow eyes, shutting the door firmly behind him.
“OK, Drake, this has gone on long enough,” he says loudly. “I went with your lie about the boys being sent down to the Deadlands for a while, but I want a proper explanation now. Tell me what’s going on.”
His eyes turn to me, and mine go to my grandfather. Drake raises his eyebrows, and offers me a little nod.
“Theo…” says Jackson. “Explain yourself.”
With my grandfather’s approval, I bring my dad into the fold, quickly covering what he’s missed and allowing Drake and Ajax to add in their own elaborations where appropriate. Within a few minutes, he’s been concisely caught up. I wait in anticipation for his thoughts on the matter.
His first words don’t fill me with much enthusiasm.
“Are you completely mad!” he says, looking to me first and then up to Drake with wide, unbelieving eyes. “You’d let you grandson traipse across the country – a county which, by the way, is at war – and meet in secret with the most deadly damn Watcher in the world?!”
“Let isn’t really the right word,” I say, defending Drake. “I’d have gone anyway.”
“Then you’re all as foolish as each other.”
“Except Ajax,” I add. “He was pretty much dragged along by me.”
“Fine, you two are as foolish as each other,” Jackson says, staring at me and a placid-faced Drake. “You might have both been killed out there. What exactly did you hope to get out of this?!”
“To tell the Seeker about mum, and who he is.”
“Oh for God’s sake, Theo, we’ve been through this. This boy is your enemy, and being all palsy with him is only going to make things harder. Jesus...”
He begins pacing around the room, shaking his head and wiping his brow.
“Drake, I can’t believe you allowed this,” he exhales, still marching from side to side. “What were you thinking!”
“Jackson, calm down and take a breath,” says Drake coolly. “What exactly do you think of me? Do you really think I’
d have sent your son out there if I thought he’d be in danger? I must say, I’m insulted by the insinuation.”
“Well, what is your excuse then?” asks Jackson, rounding on him.
“Firstly, I don’t need an excuse, or to explain myself to you. I’ll remind you of who you’re addressing here, Governor. I have means and methods that go beyond what you can possibly understand or know. Theo’s meeting with the Seeker was always going to happen, and it had to happen. And now, the boys are back, safe and sound, and have come bearing fruit.”
“Fruit? Enlighten me…”
“I don’t like your tone,” bites Drake.
“With all respect, sir, this is my son…”
“And my grandson,” cuts in Drake. “You do not hold a monopoly over caring for the boy. Yes, you are his father, but nevertheless, Theo is at the heart of this and he has an important role to play. This war is far bigger than any of us, and you need to take your emotion out of the game. We’re soldiers here, all of us, and soldiers follow orders.”
I watch the exchange like a game of tennis, my head swivelling from side to side as they spar. But enough’s enough. Someone has to step in.
“I’m right here, by the way,” I say loudly. “Stop talking about me as if I’m not in the damn room. Dad, I appreciate that you care, but grandfather’s right. I had to go…it wasn’t my choice or his or anyone else’s. That vision was always going to take place, it was just fate.”
Jackson takes a moment to himself, the heated discussion cooling with my words. After several drawn out seconds, he begins nodding, and turns to Drake.
“I apologise, Drake,” he says. “It’s just been a hectic time recently, and this thing with Link…I don’t mean to argue. It’s just, this is news to me, and perhaps I need time to digest it.”
“I understand, Jackson,” says Drake. “We are all entitled to vent at times like this. Suffice to say, Theo and Ajax took a step forward the other night. Whatever you think of this Seeker, AK1, he may have a bigger part to play in this than we are currently aware of. We know from Professor Lane’s notes that he has a special purpose. That purpose needs to be discovered.”
“OK,” says Jackson, adopting a formal military pose. “What is it that you need me to do?”
I look at him and know that Drake’s words have had the desired effect. My father is, above all, a man who follows order and leaders. That’s how he’s lived his life, and barring the odd bout of insubordination, he’ll always perform that duty.
Drake turns to him, and mimics Jackson’s sudden posture, standing firm as he gives his order.
“I need you to find information on this purpose, this secret. I don’t care what it takes, but we need to find out what the Baron is planning. They’re clearly hiding something, and if my instincts are correct, these men will have made sure they’ve destroyed every last morsel of information we might find about their future plans.”
“Their destruction of the base beneath The Titan’s Hand is testament to that,” suggests Jackson.
“Precisely,” continues Drake. “There may have been something revealing in there, but we missed our shot. So we’re going to have to get that information another way...”
Jackson starts to nod, pacing again around the room.
“With war spreading again,” he says, “we might just have a chance. The Baron’s focus will be diluted, and so will his attention. What we need are spies, people who can report to us from his own camp.”
“Go on...” says Drake.
“The Baron is still offering the choice of silver or lead,” continues my father, thinking fast, “and he’s still gathering his army. We need some brave souls willing to join up and feed us information. If we can get an inside line, then we might just figure out where the Baron and the Cabal are hiding. If we can find them, we can find their secret.”
“Good,” says Drake, nodding. “I trust you to keep this one close to the chest, Jackson. And that goes for both of you too,” he adds, looking to Ajax and me.
We nod, as Jackson answers. “I’ll get on it immediately, sir. I have lots of well trained soldiers I can trust to see this through.”
“And us?” I ask.
“Sit tight for now,” says Drake. “You’ve both been brilliant once again. I’m sure you’ll be called upon before long.”
And with that, yet another secret meeting comes to a close, something I’m becoming well versed in by now. Every week I seem to be embroiled in some sort of subterfuge, always operating under the radar.
But now, it’s back to the waiting game.
And that’s something I’m getting familiar with too.
15
A Secret Shared
The next days pass by without major incident, on a personal level at least. It’s a funny thing to say, really, given how war now rages across so much of the land, but truly, here in the city there’s little to tell of the terrors down below for the regular man.
For me, of course, it’s different. Not only is my head a factory of visions right now, but I’m included in many of the meetings taking place in the war room. Not all, of course, but many. Some remain the domain only of the top echelon of command, those overseeing the specific actions of our military factions. My inclusion, mostly, is based upon my skills as a Watcher, my overall task still to hunt down signs of future attacks.
That particular duty is, however, becoming less of a priority. The simple fact is that, with war now engulfing so much of the country, new attacks have become the norm. And across our Eden soldiers, Petram soldiers, and The Guardians of Liberty militia group, we have enough men and women out there to give some forewarning of any major assault.
More to the point, any place with more than a few thousand, or even hundred, residents is well and truly expecting an attack at any point. Those who have chosen to run and hide are generally littered across the hills and woods and mountains of the regions, or hiding in old shacks or abandoned towns and cities; places where the enemy won’t bother to look. That, of course, is if they haven’t come here to the Deadlands, waiting for the war to pass as they hide somewhere across the sandy wilderness, or take up residence in the camps down in the valleys, or the city here itself.
The people who remain in their hometowns, however, are expecting a fight. Right now, our abilities to watch the future and search our visions are growing stale in this new arena of war.
What we can do, however, is continue the hunt for the Seekers. As the days pass, more sightings come in, more rumours suggesting that they’re pressing on, working their way through populations of our soldiers with ease.
The news comes to us in a meeting, and my eyes turn to Link immediately. So far, Ellie has been true to her word to talk him around. Hearing that these Seekers are out there wreaking such havoc, however, looks like it might be the thing to push him over the edge.
He doesn’t voice his concerns, though, knowing there will be no point. He just stares forward with a grimace until other news comes up, those clogs grinding and turning and leading him, perhaps, towards the decision to leave. Ellie, however, stays close to him, always working to cool him down. Ajax, too, tells me he speaks to him regularly, doing his best to make sure he stays on message.
“It would be helpful if he knew what the hell was going on,” says Ajax, marching around the sitting room one evening. “We should tell him what’s been happening. We should tell them all…”
I never thought it would happen, but now it’s my turn to pull him off such an idea. So far, I’ve been desperate to keep the rest in the loop. Now, though, I’ve grown used to the secrecy, to the burden of carrying this knowledge. Being in cahoots with three others is certainly helpful in that regard.
So, like Ellie has with Link, I manage to talk Ajax down too.
“Fine,” he agrees eventually, “but next time we have a secret meeting, I’m bringing this up with Jackson and Drake.”
I smile and pat him on the shoulder. “Be my guest,” I say, knowing how hard heade
d the two can be.
Naturally, though, my own concerns about the Seekers rise. When we do get a chance to talk, just the four of us, I ask whether there have been sightings of AK1. The answer from Jackson, of course, is that no one can tell the Seekers apart, not unless they get a really good look at them.
For some reason, I had it in mind that AK1 might hold back after our meeting, might suddenly doubt his place in the world, might withdraw and consider what he’s doing. And then a fear strikes in me that the exact opposite might just be occurring. That instead of pacifying him, of stimulating the good part of him, I’ve merely enraged the evil that dwells inside him, cornered a dangerous animal and forced it to lash out.
Have we unknowingly unleashed him? Are we to blame for some of these massacres?
Those doubts linger for a time, but are quickly dismissed.
“We did only what we had to do,” says Drake. “That meeting was set, and you attended. What happened, happened. There’s no changing it now. Keep faith, Theo. We have no other choice.”
I nod and feel some comfort from his words, but they’re not enough to satisfy me for long. It’s not that I necessarily think we’ve somehow spurred him on. It’s more that, maybe after everything, I was wrong about him. That what part of my mother is in him, what light resides there, is never enough to quell the dark. That the blackness will always dominate the light, like the night sky only peppered with stars. Maybe I’m wasting my time on him. Maybe Jackson was right all along…
Still, his face is never far from the front of my mind. Memories of our meeting lingers there now, sometimes clear, sometimes cloudy, but always serving to obscure my true visions. My obsession has begun to consume me, preventing me from actively searching for new sightings.
He’s the key, I find myself thinking. For good or bad, he’s the key…
My thoughts continue to dwell on him, though, in some vague hope that I’ll spy another meeting between us in my mind. But nothing fresh comes. Nothing new. Right now, with the world at war, the background noise is too loud to allow for any clarity in my visions. It’s all just a jumbled blur of chaos and death, my mind too busy and hectic to truly focus on a single thought.
