The Omega Children - The Return of the Marauders - Book 1

by Shane A. Mason

  Scout scratched its head, flaky skin falling from it like snow. ‘Is that why you let the children come here?’

  ‘Someone has to be left behind to remember us. I only hope it was not a mistake.’ He looked at Scout. ‘You have kept away from them, haven’t you?’

  Scout nodded.

  ‘Good. Keep it that way until I say otherwise. And why are you dressed as a tramp?’

  Scout darted its eyes left and right, looking guilty.

  ‘I think the Harbinger might have something to say about this,’ Uncle Bear-Nard said. ‘Didn’t the Harbinger tell you to stay out of the costume room?’

  ***

  The Harbinger watched the cousins fall asleep. He felt bad. He had slipped sleeping potion into their food while no one watched. The cousins rapid discovery of the costumes and the ease at which they took to them both pleased and disturbed him. Pleased because the cousins were everything he had hoped for, but disturbed because events were moving faster than he could control.

  ***

  That night Aunty Gertrude heard dogs barking and baying from a distance. At first she tried to ignore them, but then they got closer and closer. The last time she had heard them, the Inquisat had tracked some escaped children to one of the sheds at the back of the Cathedral-Mansion. That’s all she needed now, was another bothersome child.

  Lamp in hand, she strode outside to investigate. From across the fields heading toward the Cathedral-Mansion she could see the yellow lights of lanterns and hear the din of tracking dogs. Within minutes Captain HeGood and ten of his Inquisat soldiers came rushing toward her, all on horseback.

  Seeing her, he cried out, ‘Halt!’ and trotted over to her.

  ‘Matron Gertrude. My apologies for the disturbance.’

  ‘I see. What is your business? Escaped children?’

  ‘Not exactly. I came across two strange boys a day or so ago in the Northern Hills while tracking an escaped child. I think these boys were outsiders. Have you seen them?’

  ‘S...s...s..seen them? S...s...s..seen them?’ She bit her lip to hide the anger she felt rise toward Uncle Bear-Nard. Those damn children had got themselves spotted. Just as well she had forewarned the council behind his back.

  ‘Aye. Seen them. Two strange boys.’

  ‘Have you told the council of this?’ Aunty Gertrude asked.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Pity. It might have saved you a trip. You see I have four children here under my care. The council knows of it. We are seeing if outside children can adapt to our ways.’

  Captain HeGood stared back puzzled. ‘What would be the purpose of this?’

  ‘I bid you good night Captain HeGood and remind you of your rank. The children will be starting their disciplining in a few days. There will be no more incidences.’

  ‘I know my rank and I shall be checking with the council.’

  He turned his steed and bade the others follow and rode off.

  Chapter 20 - Experiments, Tests and Theories.

  Lexington woke up first, determined to get a head start. In the attic, after conversing with her inner voice, she found sheets of white paper, and pinned them up. She wrote on them:

  Costumes identified

  Costumes tried

  Costume principles

  -Need to relax and enjoy

  -Play (unconfirmed), perhaps only enthusiasm is needed. Or pretend.

  Costumes strengths/weaknesses

  - Can take the person over and control them

  She pinned the last sheet of paper up and started writing out unanswered questions.

  Who attacked us? Why? What were they after?

  Where did the bracelets and costumes come from?

  What powers them?

  How does this land work? Magnetism?

  Where are our parents?

  Why only one photo of mother?

  What’s so special about us?

  Under this question, she jotted, We are from a noble bloodline and are to inherit this house. Are we being trained for something?

  She carried on writing more questions down.

  What is a cock-a-rock?

  How old is this land?

  What is the creature I keep seeing?

  What is a Marauder?

  Who is KARENA?

  Gazing at her handiwork she realised she needed a pattern to glue it all together. She wrote up, “Myth and Legend,” paused then scrawled underneath it, “Hyper-thesis.”

  She scrawled her original five hyper-theses under the heading, and lastly, after pinning up one more sheet, she wrote on it, “Leads,” then raised the pen to write more questions.

  The others arrived, passing by the sheets and reading them.

  ‘I intend to gather all the facts we discover,’ Lexington said. ‘Write up what you find under the right heading. Each day I shall include them in my hyper-thesis.’

  Lexington beamed.

  ‘Make sure you have fun,’ Melaleuca said.

  Ari read over the sheets, while Quixote screwed his face up

  ‘That’s not fun,’

  Melaleuca spoke before Lexington could answer back.

  ‘I’ll write up what he discovers….Happy?’

  ‘Yeeeaahh. I guess.’

  ‘Good. Lexington. What else are you doing today?’

  ‘You approve of this, then?’

  ‘Of course. It is clear you are enjoying it, having fun. So, today?’

  Lexington cocked her head at Ari, asking, ‘Are you following your Ethmare feeling today?’

  He nodded.

  ‘I may follow then.’

  ‘With the Indian costume, I’m going to sit on the roof and listen and look, just like Iam said.’

  Melaleuca nodded her approval.

  ‘Oh,’ Lexington said. ‘In that case, I may...’

  She produced a pair of khaki pants with a safari shirt and a tatty, leather bag with metal implements sticking out.

  ‘This is an archaeologist’s outfit. I am going to investigate the statue and then...’ She looked up and down, suddenly puzzled. ‘…though I really want to work out who Karena is. Was it our mums’ friend? Or even a nickname for one of them? And you know what? That bush creature Iam bugs me. I mean what is it?’

  Melaleuca felt the fabric of the khaki shorts. Of course she confuses herself with her own questions. ‘Just follow one lead. Your heart or your head but have fun.’

  ‘Hey Lex, why not find a decision making outfit.’ Quixote said.

  ‘Perhaps I will.’

  ‘And Quixote,’ Melaleuca said tugging him away from Lexington, ‘you are going to do, what?’

  He drummed his fingers on his chest and placed one under his bottom lip, humming away.

  ‘Ummm...mmmm, um, I want to try on lots of costumes. Find the most fun ones.’

  ‘And where are you going to do this?’

  ‘In the attic?’

  Melaleuca lifted his chin up so he could see her face, saying, ‘Stay away from people, all people. Come and find one of us if the need arises.’

  He nodded.

  ‘And what are you to do?’ Lexington asked Melaleuca.

  ‘Keep an eye on you all,’ she replied with a mysterious air, and then announced, ‘Now, treat this as a game. Play. Every five minutes take your bracelets off, to stop the costumes taking over. Are we clear?’

  They all nodded in agreement.

  ***

  From the rooftop Ari nearly saw to the sea down the valley. He tried using his telescopic vision to see into the township, discovering it had a limited range. The houses had strange roofs but he could not make them out fully. He swept his eyes across the landscape. A sense of vastness leaked off the southern dry hills, hinting at the thousands of miles that lay beyond. Relaxing into it, many sensations licked at his developing insight, though one stood out. The northern forested hills seethed with a lush, silent richness, reminiscent of the Ethmare.

  He traced his way to the northern end
of the Cathedral-Mansion, passing by many out-of-place odd towers, turrets and steeples. Sitting, he folded his legs and stared into the forest, closing his eyes. Iam had said it would take weeks, even months to hear the plants and animals. Perhaps with the costumes he could do it quicker; perhaps minutes, or hours, at best no more than a day.

  ***

  As Lexington stood, brush in hand, at the base of the strewn trees and dirt piles, she looked up at the statues and an impulse to begin with the doors struck her. She questioned why, and considered activating her inner voice to analyse it, though the impulse suddenly left.

  Strange. That never happened with the detective costume.

  Putting the brush down, she wrote, “why,” in the ground with her finger.

  I don’t like being kept silent for too long.

  ‘Did you just observe what happened?’

  Yesss!

  ‘Well?’

  Well what!

  ‘Well what do you think?’

  Melaleuca is right. Play. Stop thinking. That way you won’t need me.

  ‘Meaning?’

  I am not made for play. I think, I analyse, I ─

  ‘I meant what do you mean, “Play, stop thinking.” It didn’t happen with the detective costume.’

  Oh, I see how it is going to be. Very well then. The detective costume’s function was to think and analyse, something you do naturally. So it was not against your natural impulse.

  ‘So that means...’

  Relax and pretend and you shall become as the costume. But I shouldn’t worry about it. You would have worked it out.

  ‘So to be an archaeologist, I just purely pretend, not think.’

  Duhhh! That’s what I said.

  ‘What’s bugging you?’

  When you stop analysing I switch off. It means I can’t be what you are pretending to be unless you are thinking and analysing.

  ‘You’re not a separate personality.’

  I can’t help what I am, what I become, anymore than you can.

  Hmmm, thought Lexington. That does not sound right.

  Stop! It hurts and anyway I can hear what you feel.

  Lexington bent down and scrawled, “that’s why,” in the dirt. Her inner voice seemed to be getting more and more unruly, something she would have to analyse later.

  She picked up the brush again, paused, and imagined ancient ruins and herself as an archaeologist exploring them. The doors stood out once again as the place to start, and without realising it she clambered up to them, and became aware she had lost control. She whipped the bracelet off.

  I wonder.

  With no bracelet on, she flicked the brush over the door. Dirt fell away, revealing deep grooves, though what it was she could not tell; maybe a hinge of some sort. Shutting her eyes, she put the bracelet on again, imagined an archaeological dig and then opened them. The deep grooves appeared as a door handle of sorts. Excited, she whipped out her trowel, digging the dirt out, until an enormous door handle, recessed into the door sat before her.

  A dozen images of Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Minoan and even Sumerian door handles flooded her mind; none of which matched the design in front of her. Grabbing it, she tried pulling and twisting but it would not budge.

  Excited, she took the bracelet off again, to see what she recalled. She could remember that it was possibly older than anything known, but none of the ancient designs. Back on went the bracelet, and the ancient designs swirled through her mind.

  More details stood out. The shimmering, shape changing nature came from intricate stonework. Whoever had made the statues had, millimetre-by-millimetre, chiselled tiny dents in many directions, and as Lexington moved around they formed different images.

  Amazing.

  Once again the knowledge from the archaeologist’s costume filled her mind with past images, comparing all sorts of ancient structures, concluding that nothing like this had ever been seen.

  But this almost suggests a civilisation more ancient and older than whoever settled here before the British and even older than known history.

  ***

  Melaleuca hung back, watching Quixote for a time. He had found clown suits, juggler’s outfits, a trapeze artist costume, a pickpocket, a chimney sweep, a Morris dancer, and a ringside announcer at a circus. By the time he came back wearing an executioner’s outfit Melaleuca was ready to try some costumes of her own on.

  ‘Be careful with that one, eh?’ Melaleuca said. ‘See if you can find...’ What would be useful but fun? ‘…I know. Find a costume that will distract people should we ever need to create a diversion.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said excited at the prospect.

  Quixote headed back into the costumes and Melaleuca started looking as well. As she looked and pondered which she would try, another thought hit her. Why not just use her power of staring into people?

  ‘Mel?’ Quixote asked. ‘Can I try on something from the weird corner?’

  ‘Sure…ah..hang on. What? Weird corner?’

  ‘The ones that Lexington said made no sense.’

  Melaleuca eyed him up and down. ‘You’re not just doing it to rile her?’

  ‘I only want to see what they do,’ and then said in his most harmless tone, ‘You said I am in charge of fun. They look fun.’

  Melaleuca’s feelings told her to be cautious about them; however Quixote’s keenness needed directing as well.

  ‘Stay up here. If you find anything, write it up or I will when I get back.’

  ‘Fantastic. What are you going to do?’

  ‘There are a few people that I need to look at,’ Melaleuca said and watched, making sure Quixote went where he said.

  She climbed down the secret passageway and snuck out through the chapel. She waited and waited and waited and waited, but no one came by. Thinking Pembrooke might be in the garden, she strolled along the empty, sapping corridor, past the photos. Still no sound of anyone. She turned into the large entrance hall with the Grand Ascension Stairs and headed past it toward the kitchens.

  Pemily appeared, startled to see her.

  ‘Well, what are you doing here?’ she asked, flapping her podgy arms. ‘TUT! Don’t speak. Best you head up to your room.’

  Melaleuca blocked Pemily’s path, trying to catch her eyes. A little shocked, Pemily stepped backwards and gushed.

  ‘What is it girl?’

  Finally Pemily looked at Melaleuca, and instantly, like sharp daggers, Melaleuca’s hawk-eyes bore deep into Pemily.

  Images flashed fast. She saw Pemily doing her daily chores, hitting herself, going off into a strange looking town, and attending a meeting of people hurting themselves. Keeping eye contact, Melaleuca wanted to see deeper, and the images came faster, blurring as they went. Large people crushed houses, fires burnt, and animals of great ferocity ran rampant through crowds of people. Out of the murky images one of their mothers leapt into view, blood stained and tattered. Shocked, Melaleuca pulled back, breaking the connection with Pemily.

  Pemily tottered back and forth, giddy, grabbing for the wall.

  ‘Here...what...oh dear...I feel...’

  Footsteps approached, and not wanting to be caught, Melaleuca slipped out through the kitchen and in to the garden, finding a large asparagus patch to hide in. She thought about the visions, letting her feelings explore them. So much hidden for them to discover, she decided it best to run it by Lexington.

  Pembrooke appeared pushing a wheelbarrow and mumbling to himself. Melaleuca snuck behind him. Trying to take him by surprise she said, ‘Hello.’

  ‘Arrgggh!’ Pembrooke shrieked, dropping the wheelbarrow and turning. ‘Oh my words, tis only you.’ His leathered, old face wrinkled up. ‘Exploring, eh?’

  With little time to bandy words, she locked eyes on him, boring deep into him. Images of soldiers in smart red uniforms marching off a ship and being greeted by villagers and peasants flashed through her mind. Some guy with a loud voice announced he was Captain Wakefield of Her Majesty’s Service
and that a golden age had arrived.

  Pembrooke yanked his head backwards.

  ‘Ohhh, you the sharp one, eh. Got some sort of powers, eh? Whassit? Vision eyes? Minds readers? Teleport-kinesis? Go on tells. I won’t say nufink.’

  ‘Tell me everything you know.’

  He chuckled in return.

  ‘An old fella like me. What do I know?’

  ‘You were there when Captain Wakefield arrived. I just saw it.’

  Pembrooke said nothing but scowled a little.

  ‘Who is this Captain Wakefield?’ Melaleuca asked.

  With eyes fixed fast on the upper story windows, Pembrooke said, ‘Better a pound earned than a pound given.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  Pembrooke turned away from her. ‘Shoo, I’ves work to do.’

  He ambled away.

  Maybe she could solve everything if she could make people freeze in one position and stare into them. It would help she thought, but then she would have to sift through a bewildering array of information, or at least, Lexington would.

  She decided to inspect the statue of Captain Wakefield once more, and then, perhaps find a costume to augment her new gift.

  ***

  After climbing up and down the statue and brushing all the dirt off it she could reach, Lexington became intrigued by the layers of dirt around it. They could tell her how long it had been buried, though how it became buried for so long was more intriguing.

  Focusing on the layers, she relaxed, trying to let the costume work. Some facts of the alluvial past and different dirt types wandered through her mind, but nothing like the flood of images before. She needed another costume for that, but which?

  Of course, a geologist’s costume.

  She pulled the bracelet off, and climbed down, packing her tools away to head back. She glanced in triumphant at the statue, smug she would solve it. Something about the head caught her eye.

  How did I miss that?

  One of the eyes had been removed. She snapped the bracelet back on and climbed up to it, her curiosity outdoing any fear of falling. She pushed her fingers into the eye socket. It felt empty. Unable to peer in, but desperate to look, she worked her way down, and started scrambling up the hill to get above it. On a steep edge above the statue, she peered over, realising she needed the help of the others.