by Gary Naiman
“MANna! MANna!”
“Consortium! Consortium!”
“Down A! Up C!”
She rested her head on the swaying seat while managing a faint smile. A for Anarchist, C for Consortium ... who the hell dreamt that up?
The cheers faded as the coach rumbled down Birdcage Walk past Saint James’s Park toward Westminster Bridge. The Houses of Parliament glittered in the darkness, their bronze walls blurred by the thickening fog. Rising above them, Big Ben clanged the day’s twenty-first hour from its lofty perch atop the great clock tower, its resonant gong echoing in her ears.
Lucinda inhaled the moist air while admiring the massive government complex. Twenty-seven years had passed since the British government was forced to evacuate those hallowed halls for a more modest refuge at Lambeth Palace across the river.
At Lambeth, the Houses of Lords and Commons still existed, but in name only. MP’s still barraged the Prime Minister with cutting questions, but the “Q & A” sessions were ceremonial at best.
The nation’s royalty had been dethroned and their possessions confiscated. With Great Britain teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, all control emanated from the Great Palace once known as Buckingham where the Consortium’s twelve CEO’s directed their global operations from the place they had chosen for their corporate headquarters.
As for the usurped Parliament complex, its chambers now bristled with the latest technology manned by two hundred Specialists in constant contact with their counterparts in Rome, Moscow, Peking, Capetown, Riyadh, Alexandria, Chicago, Vancouver, Rio de Janeiro, Nome, and a dozen other strategic locations across the globe.
The coach rumbled across Westminster Bridge toward the walled complex known as County Hall. The complex’s huge London Eye Ferris Wheel had been replaced by an enormous hologram displaying Knowledge Cloud’s “24-7” informative programming. Tonight’s imagery sent a shudder through her. It was the face of Sir Thomas Philibin when he addressed the masses in 2035.
A crackling voice snapped Lucinda from her thoughts.
“Welcome, 0021. We are honored.” The Guardian opened the coach’s door and retreated into the darkness.
Lucinda ruffled her hair and stepped down from the coach, her pack slung on her shoulder. It only took a few minutes to follow her non-human escort across County Hall’s paved courtyard to her sleep chamber.
The Guardian reached for Lucinda’s pack, but she pulled it back. “No need.”
The red screen flickered. “Rest well, 0021. I will awake you at zero-eight-hundred hours. A fresh iridescent-blue uniform has been placed in your closet.”
She nodded in acknowledgement before brushing past the massive robot.
“To your liking?”
She stared at the massive sleeping quarter, a full forty feet in diameter. She had never seen such space. “Impressive ... eight-hundred hours then.” She listened to the portal close.
Her eyes focused on the enticing sleep bubble. “God, I’m so—”
The room flickered red accompanied by a tin voice. “There is no god.”
She raised her hand in apology. “Sorry, I meant, deity.”
She dropped her pack on the floor and collapsed on the sleep bubble, her eyes gazing at the dome’s artificial night sky. Her last conscious thought was unsettling for it was not of Franz Harrier, Olafang Tabulek, Susan Kenney, the Neptune platform, or this surrealistic moment, but instead of the most advanced robot she ever knew.
CHAPTER 26
Tribute
It was a magnificent morning in London. The overnight fog had taken on a silver hue as it gave way to the sun’s burning rays. Patches of blue were visible through the haze. The moist air was cool with a brackish taste.
Big Ben sounded the day’s ninth hour as the golden coach rumbled across Westminster Bridge on its return to Saint James Park and the Great Palace. The six white horses clopped along the bridge’s pathway, vapor streaming from their nostrils, their path guided by the robot seated atop the coach.
The sun broke through the fog, bathing London in brilliant warm light. A joyous morning, indeed. A time for tribute and fanfare, unfortunately not shared by the coach’s panicked passenger.
Lucinda eyed the approaching Houses of Parliament, now known as the Central Command Center. Big Ben’s tower jutted into the sunlit fog, its bell clanging. She breathed a nervous sigh while looking down at the Thames.
Blast, I never expected this. I just want to design robots and outsmart a few dregs. Maybe a little Paradisio and an occasional pat on the back, but that’s all.
She sank in the cushioned seat and looked down at her trembling hands.
Kenney was right. I’m not meant for this. I belong with the masses, not a bunch of arrogant elitists. Tribute? Fanfare? Blast, toast someone else.
She rested her head against the cushion and closed her eyes, trying to wish it all away. The only sound was the clacking hoofs. Her body relaxed as her mind drifted into sleep, and she heard a soft voice.
“Hello, Lucinda.”
Her eyes snapped open. She sat up and stared in disbelief at the auburn-haired woman seated across from her. “Who are you? How did you—?”
The woman smiled. “I’ve missed you.”
“No ... I’m hallucinating. It’s the damn Paradisio.” Lucinda raised her hand in a blocking motion. “You’re not real. You’re dead.”
“There is no death, my daughter... only change from one dimension to another.”
Lucinda pointed a trembling finger at the woman. “It’s a trick ... a deception meant to break me... an Anarchist ploy to avenge Harrier and Kenney!”
The woman stared at her. “I still feel your gums gnawing at my nipple when the agents ripped you away. I still hear my screams when Jared tried to stop them and they beat him senseless. I still see the shadow waiting for you in the black van, its red eyes glaring at me.”
Lucinda shook her head. “No … it’s a trick!”
“If it were a trick, how could your enemies know the deepest thoughts of a mother’s love?”
The only sound was the clacking hoofs.
Lucinda glared at the woman. “If you are my mother, tell me why they took me from you. Tell me why they made me into a cold-blooded killer.”
The woman’s eyes glistened. “The answer is within you.”
“No!” Lucinda swiped her hand at the apparition. “If you were my mother, you would know my loneliness. You would know my pain.”
The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “You must be brave, Lucinda. The world is filled with evil, but you shine through it like the sun shines through the fog. You are our best hope ... you and the other.”
Lucinda shook her clenched fist at the image. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Be brave my daughter. Be brave...”
Lucinda lunged at the fading image, her voice sobbing. “Don’t leave me! I’m so alone!”
A second voice shook her. “We are with you, Lucinda. We are at your side.”
“Father?”
“We will always be with you...”
Lucinda fell back in her seat, her eyes locked on the empty seat across from her. The hallucination had been too real. She had felt her mother’s hand brush her cheek. She had heard her mother’s words, and the words of her father, and it was more than she could bear.
She grasped the coach’s door handle and glared at the river. In a few minutes, it would be too late to escape. If she hurdled into the river now, the current would carry her into the marshlands. From there, she might find refuge with the masses and—
The voice rang in her ears. Come to your senses, woman. Are you mad? You’ve struggled too hard to blow it now. Get hold of yourself. It was just a nightmare. No need to freak out over a silly nightmare. Sit back in that seat and compose yourself. Don’t you see? They love you! You’re their hero! They’re about to honor you!
She hesitated, her gray eyes peering at the deserted bridge. What’s wrong with me? Thirty-four years of strug
gle to chuck it all by jumping in a river? All because of some jumbled nerves and a hallucination? Settle down, fool. Enjoy the moment and worry about tomorrow when it comes.
Her hand slipped off the handle. She collapsed in the cushioned seat and stared at the empty compartment. Just a nightmare, 0021. Just a bad dream...
“How are you feeling, 0021?”
Her body tensed from the crackling voice. She leaned toward the coach’s window and stared at the Zambex 39 standing beside the door, its twin diamond eyes glistening in the morning sunlight. The coach had stopped.
The Zambex raised one of its two gold arms and gestured toward Saint James Park. “The Leader has decided it will be more impressive if you walk to the palace. Only a short distance through the park, but your emergence from the trees will be most effective.” The robot gripped the door and pulled it open.
Lucinda glanced at the winding river. “Yes ... just a nightmare.”
“0021?”
She took a calming breath. “Lead the way, robot.” She stepped from the coach and followed the Zambex past Big Ben’s clock tower toward their destination.
They were nearly through Saint James Park when the drizzle began. A bank of clouds had rolled in from the North Sea and the sky is covered with threatening overcast. She looked up at the gray clouds and noticed a Knowledge Cloud sphere floating overhead, its red camera light peering down at her. The Zambex’s voice crackled in her ears.
“Smile, 0021. It is critical you convey confidence to the masses.”
“The?”
“The masses, 0021.”
She paused while recalling last night’s approach over London when she peered at the illuminated buildings and deserted roadways, and this morning’s coach ride across the deserted bridge — and it hit her.
“May I ask a question?”
The Zambex nodded.
“Where are the people?”
“They await your arrival, 0021.”
“No... I mean the masses. Where are the masses? The city appears deserted.”
The Zambex hesitated. “Security, 0021. All Consortium cities have been purged of the masses. Didn’t you know?”
“But Chicago ... there were masses in Chicago. I saw them only a few days ago.”
“They are purged, 0021. It is best the masses are cleared from the cities.”
“Then, it just happened?”
The Zambex gestured to the path. “Please, 0021. You must not be late for your tribute.”
Lucinda glared at the empty park and followed the robot toward the palace grounds. The cheers had begun.
The sight was overwhelming. Twin Guardians flanked her as the Zambex veered away. Accompanied by the Guardians, she walked past the statue that was once Queen Victoria before being replaced by the massive holographic “C” with its twelve corporate symbols radiating outward like a sunburst. In front of her, a throng of iridescent-blues and greens waved their hands in allegiance while cheering their new hero—
“0021! 0021! You’re the one, 0021!”
She followed the Guardians through the screaming blues and greens. She could see the palace now, its pillared wrought iron gates closed in front of her. Hands reached out for her, but the Guardians’ protective electromagnetic blister blocked them.
She winced from a blare of electronic trumpets. Her escort had halted at the gates, which were slowly opening. Rose petals fell from the drizzled sky. The cacophony of trumpets and cheers became deafening, accentuated by an ominous flash of lightning and thunderclap.
Lucinda stared at the twelve figures standing beneath the palace’s inner arch, their garments glistening in the gray light. Eleven wore platinum, but only one wore gold. It was the same woman who beckoned her to the podium in Chicago five days ago.
Lucinda felt her knees wobble. Don’t faint, girl ... and smile. It’s too late to turn back. You’re in it now, up to your ambitious brain.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the beautiful woman in gold walking toward her from the arch, her silver hair, high cheekbones, straight nose, and taut lips somehow protected from the falling rain. Everything that is perfect was almost upon her.
The chant began—
“Great One! Great One! Our soul! Our hope!”
The Guardians backed away from the opened wrought iron gates. Lucinda couldn’t move. Her eyes were transfixed on the woman only feet away. She felt a nudge as one of the Guardians pressed her forward.
The roar echoed off the palace’s facade. Her heart was pounding. She was looking into the emerald eyes of the most powerful person on earth.
The Leader opened her hands in a receptive gesture. “We meet again, my dear.”
Fool ... on your knees!
Lucinda dropped to one knee in an awkward kneel. She lowered her head while feeling the vibrations from the cheering crowd that had closed on the palace’s opened gate. Above her, the Knowledge Cloud camera had descended to a mere thirty feet to capture the historic scene. Across the planet, communal holograms displayed the moment to millions of desperate human beings who watched it hypnotically while clinging to their monthly ration of life-sustaining Manna.
Suddenly, all was silent. Lucinda felt a warm hand on her shoulder as the Leader’s melodic voice echoed through the crowd amassed at the opened gate.
“You have done well, my dear. I knew you would not fail your Consortium. For this, you have earned our greatest admiration. Arise, my dear and accept your new status.”
Lucinda rose to her feet amidst the cheers. She felt a surge of electromagnetic energy while staring at those beautiful emerald eyes.
The Leader stepped back while extending her golden arms toward Lucinda. She turned toward the frenetic crowd and spread her arms, the drizzle glistening on her face. “Your colleague has won a great victory. We have beaten back the enemy and have them on the run!”
“GREAT ONE! GREAT ONE!”
The Leader lowered her arms and gestured for silence, which was immediate. “Let this wonderful moment be an inspiration. For those who work hard and train hard and persevere, the road to glory awaits you!”
Lucinda was overcome by the onrushing blues and greens surging through the opened gates, their trembling hands waving in tribute to their hero. They were within fifty feet when the Guardians blocked them with a wall of electromagnetic energy. The cheering continued as the blues and greens pressed against the crackling force field, each trying to get a closer look at their mysterious colleague, the woman who had risen from the ranks to earn this ethereal moment.
The Leader raised her hand for silence. “We must leave you now. I have invited your colleague to dine with me and my eleven brothers and sisters at the great table inside the palace.”
She broke into a beaming smile while embracing the stunned woman standing beside her. Her eyes locked on the Knowledge Cloud camera floating above the crowd. “Remember this day, my children. Remember always that your Consortium is your greatest hope for the brightest of futures. Deity be with you.”
Amidst a final round of cheers, the Leader turned and guided Lucinda to the arch where the eleven platinum-attired members stood to greet her.
Lucinda was overcome by their kind words and friendly pats on the back. She walked with them across the palace’s rain-spattered interior courtyard, yet no falling drops touched them. An invisible umbrella shielded them from the rain, as it did the Leader when she walked to the opened gates to greet the Consortium’s guest of honor. The only drops striking the Leader’s face were for effect when she spread her arms to the crowd. Nothing like a glistening face to stir emotions.
Lucinda was almost to the opened portal leading from the courtyard into the palace when she looked down at her uniform to insure all was in place, and she froze.
The Leader rested a hand on her back. “Something wrong, my dear?”
“My uniform, it’s—”
“Yes, my dear. Your uniform is obsidian, the proper attire for our new Western Hemisphere Overlord. You will need som
e training of course, but you will soon command Synapse’s western force.”
“But ... I’m not worthy.”
The Leader patted Lucinda’s shoulder. “Come, my dear. We have much to show you before we dine. Your palace awaits you.”
CHAPTER 27
The Feast
The cavernous room was breathtaking, its ornate gold, red, and blue ceiling towering above the black triangular conference table. Crystal chandeliers bathed the table’s thirteen seated occupants in soft amber light. The sounds of conversation and clinking glasses echoed off the gold-fluted red walls.
Formally dressed androids stepped through the room’s massive entrance doors, their humanlike hands carrying gold platters of food. It was indeed a royal setting, but no waltz would be danced tonight nor would regal orders be declared from the throne that once adorned the far wall. The once-famed Grand Ballroom of Buckingham Palace now served a more austere purpose for it had become the Consortium’s Reflection Chamber within the Great Palace of the deserted city known as London.
Lucinda eyed the platter of sizzling beef placed before her with its side of steamed potatoes, mixed vegetables, and freshly baked bread. An android poured red wine into her golden goblet. The pleasant smells were overwhelming. After spending the day touring the Great Palace and Central Command Center, she is famished.
“To your liking, my child?”
Lucinda looked at the silver-haired woman smiling at her from the apex of the triangle. She tried to compose herself, but her salivary glands wouldn’t permit it.
The Leader leaned forward. “Are you well, my child?”
Lucinda swallowed her saliva and forced a smile. “Yes, Great One. I have never seen such food.”
The Leader smiled and raised her fork and knife in an inviting gesture. “You have earned it, my child.” She gestured to her eleven colleagues. “Enjoy.”
Lucinda cut into the tender beef and guided a warm, moist piece into her mouth. Then a scoop of potatoes and vegetables. She felt the aromatic warmth overcome her.
The Leader nodded at Lucinda’s plate. “Not overdone?”
Lucinda broke into a grin. “No, Great One. It is truly fruit of the gods.”
