The Meat Market (Jonathan Harkon Adventures Book 1)

by James Chalk

  It didn’t take long to make it through the maze and up the hill to the location of the hidden access tunnel. I hoped that Fifi would still be on the tram. I didn’t want to waste time searching for her, but also didn’t want to abandon her again. Luck was with us! She and the tram hadn’t moved. When she saw us, she started barking maniacally and spinning around in circles. Yipping the whole time, she rushed over and started snapping at Baihu’s tail. The noise further dismayed the babies, who cranked their cries up another notch. Reunited, we all marched over to board the tram. My demented, little, circus procession was on the road again, and we had acquired a giant and a chorus.

  Epilogue

  “Deep vengeance is the daughter of deep silence.” - Vittorio Alfieri

  “Therefore a lion from the forest shall strike them down; a wolf from the desert shall devastate them. A leopard is watching their cities; everyone who goes out of them shall be torn in pieces, because their transgressions are many, their apostasies are great.” - Jeremiah 5:6

  “Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth, but a sword.” - Jesus Christ, Matthew 10:34

  *******

  The Great Temple of Sanctity was filled to capacity with the faithful. Hundreds of thousands more citizens overflowed into the street outside. Those who could not make the pilgrimage were attending via sensostream. The temple’s exquisite fan-vault soared high above its packed nave. Huge stained-glass windows bathed the lucky congregation in multi-colored light. The excitement was palpable as the Abbot Primate - AKA Bishop of Sanctity and Supreme Leader - stepped to the front of the balcony pulpit. My audio-limiters cut in, sparing me the worst of the deafening cheers and applause. The famous religious and political ruler raised his hands, silencing his throng of ecstatic followers. Harvey shifted on the bench next to me. His shoulder bumped my cheek as he tried to find a more comfortable position to watch the sermon. Our small bench, hidden in shadow along the pulpit wall, had not been designed for a man of Harvey’s size. He smiled an apology and scooted over a little more, wedging himself against the wall. I smiled back, commiserating. I wasn’t much happier. You would think that a simple white robe would be comfortable, but you would be wrong. Religious ceremonies on Sanctity are not known for comfort, or brevity. We had already been waiting for about two hours, first while the congregation filed in, and then while a priest gave the liturgy.

  The Abbot began reciting a prayer and my mind wandered. Much had happened in the six months that followed our escape and the destruction of the “meat factory.” Harvey and I had both been arrested. From Sanctity’s perspective, I was by far the greater criminal! Even though I was charged with mass-murder, they were most angry about the deaths of Pastor Pitcher and the Bishop. They knew I had killed the maggot and believed the same about the Bishop. I had kept my mouth shut about Tommy. No sense in putting his poor family through any more. Either way, I would be “put to The Test.” Murdering clergy members was grounds for their most heinous of punishment. Everything was riding on whether or not Sanctity’s Inquisition would believe Harvey’s testimony. As a citizen of Sanctity, he could be heard, but there was no guarantee he would be believed. His testimony could establish the link the Inquisition needed before they would consider the evidence that I had recovered from the Bishop’s data-pad. That, combined with the evidence Brenda had put in Fifi, would be enough to crumble Sanctity’s vaulted halls of power. The opposition and political maneuvering was intense, but Intercol kept the pressure on, and ultimately the Supreme Leader himself made a surprising decision.

  Harvey shifted again, accidentally elbowing my shoulder, and my attention returned to the Abbot’s sermon. He was speaking about vengeance. “In Hebrews 10:30, it says, For we know him that has said, Vengeance belongs unto me, I will recompense, says the Lord. And again, The Lord shall judge his people. But what does this mean my children? What is the truth in the word? Is vengeance about hate and punishment without restraint? Does our Father teach love while practicing hate?”

  Like the sound of leaves in a sudden gust of wind, a hushed murmur ran through the crowd.

  The Abbot quickly continued. His deep bass tone was not loud but somehow filled the room. “No!” echoed in every ear. “That is not the scriptural meaning of vengeance. I have personally prayed on this, and our Father has seen fit to enlighten my soul! Vengeance is punishment inflicted in righteousness, and for the good of Yahweh’s chosen. Our Lord is mighty and just. His holy infallibility is without question. His justice is dispassionate, an act of love and guidance. The purpose of his vengeance is to vindicate his word and his name, so that all may know that no one can receive the blessings of life and happiness, except at the hand of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Thus, his vengeance is prompted by love.”

  “However, be forewarned, He claims final judgment over His children. The Lord only allows our involvement if we are truly guided by His hand. This is sacrosanct! His is the only permissible hand of vengeance. He makes the judgement and chooses the means of retribution. Woe, I say. Woe unto he who questions that choice!”

  In a sing-song voice, the Abbot recited from scripture, “For the Lord will execute judgment by fire and by his Sword on all flesh, and those slain by the Lord will be many!”

  “When our Father chooses to make a man His Sword, it is vain to contend against him. Our Lord can put strength into the arm that wields the sword, or take that strength away. None can stand against His Sword, or evade his judgement. As we all now know, our Father chose to bless us and test us with an outsider, an angel who came to us in the guise of an ass. Without rights. Worthy only of notice as a corse laborer. Allow me to quote from the parables.”

  The Abbot pressed a pad on his lectern and began to read, “When the ass saw the angel of the Lord standing in the road with a drawn sword in his hand, she turned off the road into a field. Balaam beat her to get her back on the road…”

  Again my mind wandered as the head religioprick droned on about angels and asses. When the news broke about the cloning, accelerated physical growth, and sexual abuse of babies, the citizens had arisen with righteous anger. Sanctity would never again have a “meat market,” of that you can be sure! What followed was a blood bath of trials and brutal public executions. Each and every one attended by yours truly, the state’s new favorite witness! All told, more than a thousand people were arrested, several hundred were executed, and at least forty top officials were put to The Test! All of it was broadcast live on Sanctity’s public sensostream. Also, in an unprecedented act of openness, Sanctity’s Supreme Leader commanded the sensostream relayed to the spookynet. Once uploaded, most of the colonies in the solar system would have permanent, intimate access to the entire series of gruesome spectacles.

  The Abbot was finishing his parable. I tuned back in. “The ass saw me, and turned away from me these three times. If she had not turned away, I would certainly have killed you by now, but I would have spared her.”

  He looked up from his lectern, clearly pleased with the cleverness of his tale. He paused to soak in the rapt adoration of his congregation and favored them with a smile. When he continued the sermon, it was in a stern voice. “Our Lord in Heaven has but one true enemy: Satan. For millennia, the devil has defamed His name. Temptation is Satan’s stock and trade. Do not be fooled my children. As we have seen all too clearly over the past many months, he walks amongst us. He has seduced our children and devoured the souls of our fathers. Satan’s lies drew in many of our citizens, isolating them from the love of the flock. They unwittingly became enemies of our Lord, and for that they will rot in prison. That judgement comes not from me, but from our Lord and Savior. He demonstrated the truth of his love and mercy to us all. Not so for the more wicked; for those who betrayed the Lord and our trust; those who would defile infants; those who would desecrate the essence of man, who was made in His form!”

  The Abbot Primate’s face was red and little flecks of white foamed in the corners of his mouth. “Those men chose to beco
me allied with the beast and they have suffered the fate decreed by the Lord! Our Father has brought his Sword down upon them. Their recompense is not yet complete, for they shall burn in the pit for all eternity!” Visibly calming, the Supreme Leader of Sanctity continued in a lighter tone, “Lest we commit the same sin as Balaam, we must open our eyes to the angel He has sent us. We can not, must not, deny His Sword. Therefore, today I wish to announce that our Lord has decreed we accept His Sword into our community. The man known locally as John Dough, and elsewhere by the title Prince Jonathan of the House of Harkon, is formally recognized as one of the Lord’s angels, and he shall heretofore be known as the Sword of Yahweh. As with any angel, he is to be extended all the rights of a citizen of our blessed colony. Furthermore, as it is the Lord’s own hand which guides him, he is now and forevermore immune from all prosecution. The Sword of Yahweh answers to no man!”

  The crowd roared to its feet. They began to stomp their feet and chant, “Sword of Yahweh, Sword of Yahweh, Sword of Yahweh…”

  Smiling broadly, the Supreme Leader raised his hands to quiet them. It took several minutes, but they finally calmed down. “I am gratified by your response on this momentous occasion. I see in your eyes and hearts that there is hope our community can move past these dark times. We will renew our pact with the Holy Trinity and become a more pious society. For this, we have His Sword to thank. Until now, you may not have known that our very own avenging angel is, in fact, a royal representative from the Harkon colony. Some may have heard that the House of Harkon has fallen to rebellion, but we believe this rumor to be greatly exaggerated. We are confident that our Lord will not allow His angel’s family to fall. For this reason, and by the Lord’s decree, we are now prepared to sign a formal pact of alliance with the House of Harkon. Will the Sword of Yahweh please step forward?”

  I stumbled on the fucking robe as I rose to my feet and stepped forward. If you ask me, the whole outfit was fucking ridiculous. I looked more like some kind of albino, warrior bat than an angel. The long white robe was hooded, and so long it dragged on the floor. When I raised my arms, the white sleeves flared out, forming my bat-wings. Belted around my waist was a sword that would have been big for Harvey. Its jewel-encrusted hilt was shaped like a cross and its blade was covered with engraved scriptures. Holding the hilt of the sword at a tilt to keep it from dragging on the floor, I managed to make my way to the lectern. Shocking the shit out of me, the Abbot stepped forward and gave me a big hug. When he stepped back smiling, I bowed and then drew the sword, extending it hilt forward. He returned the bow and then kissed the jewel at the top of the hilt. The crowd surged to their feet and resumed cheering. This time, nothing would quiet them, and they chanted long into the night.

  *******

  Unlike other citizens of Sanctity, the Sword of Yahweh is free to come and go at will. I was finally able to recall the HMS Mary Rose and load up for departure. Mary was very upset with me. I left her alone for too long and “failed to consult, before acquiring the new peripherals.” Ha! Like I had much choice. What was I going to do, abandon Fifi on the streets? Sanctity doesn’t have pet rescue and redistribution centers. I asked. They said something about “beasts of burden” and personal responsibilities. I didn’t really get it. Anyway, I think Baihu likes having a pet. I know she likes having Harvey on board - he’s big and willing to wrestle her! Mary, on the other hand, just about blew a processor when she heard who Harvey was. She didn’t give “a flying-fuck” that he has sworn fealty to the House of Harkon. As far as she is concerned, he is never to be trusted and we’d be better off if I let her space him. I’m just happy she admits that it’s my decision.

  Harvey is a man of his word, who truly wants to atone for his sins. I intend to give him the opportunity to do so. There had been a lot of atonement going on, but for my taste, far too much of it was bloody and final. I disagree with the Bishop of Sanctity’s twisted logic. Vengeance is not an act of love. It is an act of rage, all about punishment and revenge. While sometimes understandable or even justifiable, it is never pretty or satisfying. I’m not going to claim that I am above the urge for revenge. But that is not how I was raised. The House of Harkon believes in justice, service, the application of might for right, and a fair chance for redemption. Back at the “meat factory,” after we had struck our deal, Harvey had plenty of opportunities to renege. He could have easily disappeared and he might even have been able to kill me. Instead, he honored his promise and corroborated my testimony. Without him, I would have been put to The Test, and the officials involved in the meat market would be free. Harvey had earned my trust and proven that he could keep his word, and now I would keep mine and give him his chance at redemption.

  Unlike with Harvey, I was not so sure about Sanctity’s honor or future morality. Although horrifying, their political and social purge was nothing less than astounding. I really thought they had a chance to move forward with less corruption, and that the new leaders were much closer to true followers of the philosophy of their Christ. However, I did not believe (and still do not believe) that an oppressive, willfully ignorant society based around God, guns, and free enterprise is capable of the generosity and compassion exhibited by the Jesus Christ character from Christian mythology.

  I had a lot of time to think about things these past few months. Trials, executions, and regrets. I really wished that I had managed to save Carla. My failure weighed heavily in my heart. I knew I needed to accept that Carla was long gone, whisked away by the evil Colonel Leakey to places unknown. There was nothing I could do for her anymore. But not all of her was gone. Here, on Sanctity, were seven, infant Carla clones. I decided they still needed my help. Rescuing them from the fire was only half the job. Carla’s family had been murdered. There were no relatives left to love the baby girls and protect them.

  The truth was, I sure as shit didn’t want to abandon them to the care of the fucking religiopricks! Purge or no purge, I couldn’t leave the little Carlas in their well-intended, but narrow-minded, ignorant, hypocritical clutches. Before I could even begin to think about searching for the original Carla, or about Leakey’s possible involvement with the Democs, I would need to take care of the infants. I made the decision to escort them to a real sanctuary. An orphanage run by a very special woman.

  But that is another story.

  Also By James Chalk

  Now that you have finished the book, won’t you please consider writing a review? Reviews are the best way readers discover great new books.

  Please look for these other stories from the Jonathan Harkon Universe:

  “Cyborg Spell Shop” - A Harkon Colony Short Story.

  “The Twelve Children Of Christmas” - A Baihu Short Story.

  Book 2 of the Jonathan Harkon Adventures. (coming soon)

  For more information about James Chalk’s stories, characters, and the shared universe they live in please visit: JamesChalkBooks.com

  About The Author

  Although he holds degrees in electrical engineering and computer science, first and foremost James Chalk is a husband and father. He has been blessed with the perfect soulmate and two amazing grown daughters who light up his life. He is an expert in artificial cognition and computer vision who spent more than twenty years doing R&D for the defense and intelligence communities. James Chalk is also a life long martial artist and a certified whitewater kayaking instructor. He can be found somewhere on the Atlantic ocean, living aboard a 43’ sailboat with his wife and two large dogs.

 

 

 
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