Solar Minimum

by Greg T Meyers

Warin awoke to a knock on his cabin door and after the third rasp he finally responded somewhat irritated and hung-over, “Enter,” he grunted.

  A young sailing master named Bart entered the cabin obviously disturbed and he stammered slightly as he began to speak, “Um...”

  Warin was already frustrated for having been awakened at such an hour during the middle watch and a lack of confidence was something he never tolerated in his crew, “Speak up boy!” he shouted angrily.

  The Sailing Master was responsible for navigating the ship and while Bart was very skilled at his profession and had directed the ship accurately toward Tangiers over the past 10 days, he was troubled over what he didn’t see in the early morning light. Collecting his thoughts and clearing his throat he continued, “Beg your pardon sir. We have been in latitude 35 in the Strait for the past four hours and, well—we should be able to see the lights of Tangiers at this hour and they are not there.”

  Warin sat up rubbing his hands over his face, “Not there, what do you mean? Are you sure we are where you think we are?”

  Bart shook his head, “Yes sir, absolutely sure sir.”

  Warin and Bart climbed up the companionway to the open deck and stood at the port taffrail staring into the darkness. Even though they were still at least 15 miles out, there were no lights to be seen of any kind from the port or the city. Warin thought for a moment and then concluded that whatever the problem, it wasn’t good news and that they should take every precaution. He leaned on the rail and after lighting a cigarette gave his orders to the Sailing Master in a non-alarmed, matter-of-fact way, “Wake the Chief Officer and tell him to report to me here.”

  “Yes sir,” replied Bart saluting and he disappeared below decks.

  Warin knew that Islamic towns had odd routines and practices compared to the West but he didn’t know of any such event that called for a blackout. He wondered perhaps if there was a heavy marine layer and that the city lights were simply shrouded. Regardless, Toprak policy had always been readiness and first strike so rather than waste strategic energy on the cause of events; he shifted his thoughts to naval and military tactics as he heard footsteps approaching him from behind. Without turning around he gave his orders to the Chief Officer, “Wake the crew and beat to quarters.”

  Still without turning around, Warin heard his Chief Officer acknowledge the order and then repeated it back it him in old world naval tradition. He then heard the officer go below decks and the familiar rousing of the crew as the ship slowly came to life. Toprak ships were run in old marine time fashion and within a few minutes Warin heard the drums signaling all hands to report to quarters. Warin threw his cigarette over the rail and went below to put on a shirt.

  All hands were dressed and at their posts within 10 minutes and all was quiet, waiting for orders or action to begin. After several minutes the order was given for all hands to remain at their posts at ease. Warin made his way back to the taffrail in full uniform and again stared into the fading darkness south of the ship where he should have been able to see city lights.

  “What’s all the excitement about?” said Veronica as she joined Warin at the rail.

  Warin greeted Veronica respectfully and then replied, “Nothing.”

  Veronica laughed slightly, “This is a rather odd time for a training exercise especially after your night of drinking. You look like hell.”

  Warin nodded in agreement since he felt like hell as well, “It really is all over nothing. The problem is there should be something.” Warin pointed to the south into the darkness, “We should be seeing Tangier city lights by now but as you can see, there is nothing.”

  Veronica scanned the horizon as a soft breeze began to blow and she wrapped the blanket she took from her bed around her tighter, “What does that mean?”

  Warin took a deep breath and sighed, letting it out slowly, “We don’t know, but we should be prepared and expect the unexpected. Something just isn’t right. I’ve never seen such a complete, wholesale blackout of an entire city before. Usually when there is a power failure it affects only a few grids and there is always emergency lighting especially at the port.”

  Shortly after the ship assumed battle formation, the wind dropped and the captain ordered every stretch of canvas to be set and the ship sailed on into the darkness toward Tangiers. The unknown on a calm flat sea caued their progression to be painfully slow. After a long hour a silhouette of land could finally be seen five miles to the south as the sun slowly illuminated a red Mediterranean sky.

  A red morning sky for sailors generally meant an impending storm in the next twenty-four hours but this red sky was different. It wasn’t the usual deep tangerine so typical of mornings on the Mediterranean. The sky above Tangiers was blood-red and as the sun rose higher in the sky the cause became evident. Massive amounts of smoke were in the air from horizon to horizon, choking out the sunlight and cooling the air by 15 degrees off normal. Sailing onward the crew one-by-one slowly broke from their stations and flocked to the taffrail. Each one stared in disbelief at the port and the surrounding city.

  In the early morning light, the once familiar Tangiers skyline only showed several mosque towers amidst an entire city of burned out rubble. There were dozens of hotspots still smoldering through heaps of black ash all along the coast in both directions and as the ship drew within gunshot, not a soul could be seen anywhere. No one on deck spoke as the entire crew stared on in disbelief. The Port of Tangiers was completely destroyed and its former location was scarcely discernible.

  Warin gave the order to come about so that they could skirt the coast and look for a suitable landing location, being very careful to steer clear of any debris in the water. There were several large container ships that had sunk where they stood in the port and for several miles the shoreline was littered with pieces of docks, buildings and countless ships. Veronica was the first on deck to speak and concerned, she turned to Warin who was standing next to her at the taffrail, “Was there a war?”

  Warin was deep in thought and took several minutes before he responding, “No, I’m fairly certain there was no war but I can’t explain how an entire city can be destroyed and leave only a few dozen buildings untouched in the midst of so much destruction. It’s as if...” He was about to launch into a discussion about the powerful effects of the highly secret Toprak ozone canister bombs but then thought better of it and just concluded, “As if it were deliberate.”

  Warin now began to wonder if Hengist was still alive and without a harbinger on board he couldn’t communicate with him. During the first night out of London, Warin’s harbinger received a pentacode and went berserk, killing two crew members in the galley with a meat hook. Warin, not wanting to alarm Veronica any further by firing a gun on the ship, slit his throat and threw him overboard along with the other two dead crew members. Warin turned to the Chief Officer on deck in a loud voice that broke the heavy silence, “Fire a volley off the coast and let’s see if we can awake anyone on shore.”

  The Chief Officer saluted and with a quick acknowledgement of only, “Of course,” He went down to the gun deck as the rest of the crew waited for a round of loud blasts from the guns, but nothing was heard.

  “Anytime now Number One—anytime!” Warin said sarcastically.

  Just then the Chief Officer was seen walking up behind Warin and said clearing his throat, “The guns will not fire Sir. We tried every gun on board.”

  Warin turned around quickly becoming more frustrated by the second, “Won’t fire?!”

  The officer bowed his head and offered no more explanation, “Yes Sir.”

  Warin took a rifle from a marine standing on deck, aimed it in the air and pulled the trigger—click. He pulled it again and again, each time the rifle ejected an unfired bullet from the magazine, click, click, click, click, “What the hell is going on?!” He grabbed another rifle and then another, each with the same result, “It’s a bloody well good thing we’re the only ship on the ocean since we’re a sitting duc
k!”

  The crew was dumbfounded and looked at Warin and then back at the coast in a state of confusion. Every crew member possessing a firearm began trying their luck as random clicks could be heard around the deck, everyone testing their weapon. After several dozen impotent clicks there was a single shot that fired, catching the sailor completely unaware, as he yelled out in alarm. The effect of a single gunshot in the deathly silence of the morning was like thunder and it resounded for what seemed like minutes as it slowly echoed into nothingness over the coast of ashes.

  The ship continued to sail eastward with very light winds on a sea of glass, drifting along the coast as all hands were directed to scan the coastline for any movement or signs of life. As they sailed on, the scene of complete destruction continued. Not even a single tree could be seen, everything was burned to stubble but then as they skirted around a small peninsula, they saw what looked like a very old mosque of sorts with the only trees and vegetation for miles. Within a few seconds of seeing the mosque a call was heard from the crow’s nest, “On deck there—man on the beach!”

  Warin rushed to the port side of the ship with a pair of binoculars and could see a man waving his arms in distress, trying desperately to get the ship’s attention. As Warin studied the first man, he could see another approaching limping badly but walking as fast as he was able and after focusing on him he could see that it was Hengist. Warin called out to the helmsman to get as close to the beach as possible, paying very close attention to the depth and then when they were as close as they dared go to drop anchor and a pinnace.

  Warin and his guard were lowered over the side with Veronica in a 20 foot pinnace, which was a type of old fashioned dinghy used to tender between the ship and shore when no port was available. After the pinnace rested on the surface Veronica saw that the water was black from all the ash and it stunk like rotting fish. Four men pulled at the oars and they slowly made their way to the shore, cutting a visible path through the thick water with a surreal red sky above them. As they reached the shallows, the origin of the stench became evident as mounds of dead sea life were piled on the beach as black waves continually churned them. Veronica pulled the neck of her blouse up over her nose in an attempt to filter the rancid smell of death from entering her lungs.

  Warin and the guard jumped over the side into three feet of water and pulled the pinnace onto the beach which was also black, covered with a heavy mud from all the ash. From the waist down, the men’s uniforms were soiled with oily black water that adhered to everything it touched. Veronica stood up in the pinnace once it came to a rest on the beach and before she could step over the side, Warin picked her up and carried her in his arms to the relative dryness of the grounds of the old mosque. As he set her gently on the neglected lawn she thanked him kindly.

  The man first seen on the beach had run back to help Hengist progress faster to greet his Captain and his distinguished guest Lady Veronica. As they approached, Warin left Veronica’s side in an attempt to help and noticed that Hengist’s leg had been crushed and had only received marginal medical treatment, but from the look of the dirty bandages it was still bleeding heavily. Warin extended his arm to Hengist which was proudly refused and Warin respectfully took a step back and saluted, acknowledging his Lord’s mortal defiance.

  The guard all stood at strict attention, forming two columns as Hengist approached Veronica and after shrugging off his assistant, he struggled under his own power to kneel before her as he took her hand and kissed it. Amidst the death and destruction all around them, shrouded under a red sky, Hengist tried to regain a measure of his former rank and power but to Veronica it was a pathetic scene. She looked down at Hengist, a man she had never met and wondered who he was, why every man in the company revered him so intensely and mostly why she was there. This was in addition to the dozens of other questions swirling in her mind about the total destruction and death that was all around her.

  Struggling to get back on his feet, Hengist vehemently refused any help from his attendants as he winced in pain, forcing his body to use his crushed leg. His lips were tightly drawn over clinched teeth and Veronica watched as an involuntary tear betrayed his resolve and rolled down his cheek leaving a white line as it washed away both ash and blood. Hengist was a man in his late thirties, perhaps early forties with shoulder-length blond hair. He was just over six feet with an impressive build probably weighing over 200 pounds and his countenance was like lightning. After getting to his feet, he looked into Veronica’s eyes and forced a painful smile, “Welcome my Lady. I apologize for the lack of comforts and lack of bloody civilization in general. We too are victims of the Minimum as is the whole earth. We thought we had more time but the earth is no man’s slave and though we abuse her cruelly, she chooses her own time and place for revenge. I must insist that you remain on board the Alexander—the ship you have called home these past 10 days. You will have every need provided for including a warm shower and ample to eat. I’m afraid life on shore for the time being is very nasty, brutish and short—hardly the place for someone of your birth.”

  “Thomas Hobbes’s, Leviathan,” said Veronica referring to Hengist’s use of the phrase “nasty, brutish and short.”

  Hengist smiled approvingly, “You certainly are as bright as they say, but the rumors about your beauty are completely false—you surpass them.” He turned and limped over to a small table and chairs under a grove of trees, the only thing green in sight which made them look terribly out of place like an oasis in a black desert. The table and chairs had a layer of ash over them as did the trees which looked like black Christmas tree flocking. Warin escorted Veronica over to where Hengist was slowly sitting down at the table which looked like it had been left outdoors for 20 years. The white paint was cracked and peeling away from the wicker and as Veronica sat it groaned and creaked under her light-weight frame.

  A man came offering Veronica a simple glass of water and looking around, she noticed that she was the only person offered any refreshment at all. She correctly determined that the reason was because there was not much clean water to be found and she politely refused it.

  After they were all seated Hengist resumed speaking, “I assume you are wondering what the hell happened? Having been at sea these past 10 days you have been fortunate to miss out on all the Minimum festivities. I think we can safely assume the Minimum has at long last arrived in all its gore and glory. We estimated the changes to the planet would be severe but we hardly expected this.”

  Warin was confused, still not understanding how the Minimum could have caused such devastation, “Expected what my lord?”

  Hengist laughed pointing around, “All this you idiot. You are of course aware of our clever ozone containers and the damage they can have on buildings made of cement containing fly ash? Well, the Minimum has in essence, released an ozone container over the entire planet. It started here about a week ago and at the time of the first ignition; I was at the government complex, quite a distance from my ship. The explosions started near the highlands and the sheer scale of the incident alerted me that it was no terrorist attack but something much larger and more sinister than anyone would believe. I was able to make it out of the complex but on route to the harbor I was detained by a rather large piece of steel after it fell from the sky, crushing the car.”

  With both hands he lifted his leg from under the table and raised it onto an empty chair next to Veronica in an attempt to stop the endless throbbing. Upon seeing the dirty bandages and his blood-soaked clothing she gasped, “You need a doctor if you want to keep that leg. We have one on board and I must say, he is very good with dressing wounds.”

  Veronica was about to explain how the doctor had miraculously reduced the swelling in her cheek her first night on board the Alexander but she saw a forbidding look across the table from Warin and she quickly derailed her intended comments and concluded with, “Which I was able to observe while on board.”

  Warin smiled gratefully as he concurred with
Veronica insisting that Hengist come on board for both medical treatment and a full meal, “When did you last eat my Lord? And what has become of the Ronnie?”

  The Ronnie was the flagship of the Toprak fleet and the loss of her was painful and visibly evident on Hengist’s face as he recounted her demise, “She is lying in pieces at the bottom of the Port of Tangiers—or so I am told. The slip exploded on two sides sending concrete shrapnel into her hull and she sank strait away. Upon receiving the news, I determined that our only salvation would be to find an older building and we happened to be near this old mosque. We have been here ever since. On a few occasions I have sent scouting parties into the city to look for provisions and on the third day we were lucky enough to find an old fallout shelter two miles from here with stale provisions, which has sustained us but we are nearly at the end of our rations. I have with me 47 men and we have been on quarter rations, which consisted of one survival biscuit and six ounces of water per day.”

  As Hengist was speaking, Veronica remembered the miles of coastline they sailed past without seeing any signs of life and wondered, “How many survivors have you found?”

  Hengist sighed, “Civilians, I have no idea but if the surrounding neighborhood is any indicator I would guess survival is under 10 percent, but that is only a guess it could very well be lower.”

  Veronica gasped and placed her hand over her mouth as Hengist continued, “Yesterday the scouting party found one of our soldiers from the 5th Regiment. He was sent to look for my ship and me of course and was nearly dead when we found him. The good news in all this was the seven regiments we have in Morocco are all accounted for since they were stationed in the southeastern desert away from any manmade structures. They have ample supplies with them and this morning I sent a detachment to bring a full regiment here with supplies. As for Horsa, I am hoping for equally good news.”

  Warin just then remembered that Horsa had been detached to Montana three weeks ago to support the rebel forces and Lord Guiscard, “And what was the last news you received from Montana?”

  Hengist leaned back in his chair as it protested with a sharp creek, “Well, the last news was that they had just defeated the U.S. Army at the Clancy ranch and were preparing for an assault on the area airbases, but we lost our harbinger on the second night of the explosions and...”

  “As did we!” interrupted Warin and then bowed his head acknowledging his lack of respect, “begging your pardon my lord.”

  Hengist’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized what Warin had just said, “You lost your harbinger? By chance did he respond on a pentacode?”

  “He did my lord and it was necessary to dispose of him after he killed two of the crew,” responded Warin.

  Hengist leaned back further in his chair and placed his hand to his chin, pulling on his ten-day beard, “Curious. During the first round of explosions, my harbinger reacted violently and I too found it necessary to permanently restrain him. Since my harbinger is peerless, it must have sent a distressed pentacode to all other subordinate harbingers—like yours, what a waste. We have been without communication for 10 days now however we have learned that a regiment in the desert has a harbinger in working order, they are bringing him back here. Hopefully then we can get an update from Horsa.”

  Hearing about Horsa in the U.S. and supporting the rebels made Veronica furious at first but then she remembered the events of the Vice President usurping the Presidency and controlling the military. During the Rain Locker communication, there wasn’t any time for elaboration and because she had replayed in her mind countless times seeing Matt standing by a grave she hesitantly enquired for details, “Horsa was sent to help Gus—why does Gus need help?”

  Hengist leaned forward and reverently turned to Veronica, “Forgive me my Lady, we have been conversing here about a great many things assuming you know our business in the world and we forget ourselves when speaking about your dear friend Lord Guiscard. It appears you do not know that he has joined forces with us to remove the man who calls himself the President of the United States, a most evil man of great means and reach. We have been watching him by means of a harbinger for several years and he is filled with foul intent I assure you. I realize you and your friends have many apprehensions when it comes to Toprak Esir and I suppose it is time you learned who we are, but unfortunately there is much I must attend to before what little sun we have sets this evening. Let’s us resume our discussion this evening over dinner on the Alexander.”

  With that, Hengist concluded his business and ordered the solders on the beach to take Veronica back to the ship and to return the pinnace at 1900 hours to pick-up himself and Captain Warin. Veronica was once again carried back to the pinnace and set inside as the soldiers pushed off the beach and began rowing toward the ship. Twenty yards out the pinnace struck something in the water and it rolled and scratched all along the underside of the boat until it became visible in the wake—a charred body. Veronica turned away when she saw what had just passed under her feet but as she turned to her left, there were more blacken bodies drifting in the current, dozens. Veronica bowed her head and closed her eyes trying to purge the visual memory. She again pulled her blouse over her nose to filter out the offensive smell.

  Hengist watched Veronica from the beach until she was out of earshot and then turned to Warin, “She seems to be in surprising good spirits considering how she has come to us. How did she do on the voyage?”

  Warin sat back down and placed his hat on the table, “Obviously upset at first but after she was on board several hours she seemed to resign herself to her fate, at least for the time being. She kept to herself for the majority of the voyage and preferred to take her meals privately in her cabin, but when approached she was cordial enough. We actually had a very satisfying discussion one evening on deck about death, dying and reviving. I think she is the only person I have ever met who truly has no fear of death.”

  Hengist clasped his hands together, fingertip to fingertip and held his hands up to his lips as he thought, “That is unfortunate. Death is the most powerful motivator; we will have to resort to the second most powerful if we are to be successful.”

  “And what is the second most powerful my lord?” asked Warin.

  Hengist turned again to watch Veronica now almost at the ship and after a long pause said, “Love.”

  “The Company is a quarter mile out my lord,” came a voice, breaking Hengist’s visual concentration on Veronica and within 20 minutes the first of the regiment from the southern desert began to arrive at the old mosque, among them was the regiment doctor who laid Hengist on a large table and reset his leg with a quick jerk. Hengist only responded with a muffled choke and then laid his head back on the table and waited for the pain to subside. After several minutes he resumed the affairs of the Toprak army addressing Warin in a strenuous voice, “Once the mess is set up order my men to eat first, allowing them as many portions they can stomach, they have been nearly fasting for eight days.” He winced in pain as he pulled himself to a sitting position on the table and continued, “Fetch me the harbinger.”

  Hengist eased into a chair at the table and slid back looking up at the tall ceiling in the once great hall of the old mosque. Sections of the roof had long been missing which allowed the surreal red light of the smoke filled sky to filter into the hall as several pigeons flew in and out, the wind in their wings echoing off the bare walls. Numerous plants were growing up through sections of the floor where the tiles were broken and missing and Hengist closed his eyes as he felt a tingling in his head signaling the onset of unconsciousness due to the pain in his leg. The noises in the room faded in and out as he struggled to remain alert but after a time the pain subsided and he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  With his eyes closed he assessed the current state of Toprak Esir, where all his troops were scattered throughout the world and he prioritized the events of the next seven days.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of delicate fo
otsteps behind him and before the person could speak, he sensed the presence of Lady Veronica and without opening his eyes, he addressed her, “Good afternoon my Lady, what brings you back on shore?”

  Veronica hesitated, searching for the right words and then responded, “My lord,” she paused again and then placed her hands on his shoulders, caressing them slowly and Hengist could almost imagine the motions were endearing, “The last year of my life I had convinced myself that your motives were purely evil, but since I have been your guest on your ship and seeing first hand your massive global organization in preparation of the onset of the Minimum, I could easily be persuaded that Toprak will be the thing that saves world, not destroys it.”

  She then pulled back his hair and combed it with her fingers, gently removing small debris, snarls and ash and then leaned over and kissed his neck. He took another deep breath as he felt a tapping on his shoulder, “My lord, the harbinger has arrived,” said Warin waking him from a deep sleep.

  He shook his head, clearing his daydream and reacquainting himself with the moment as the pain in his leg resumed, “Thank you Captain, how long have I been sleeping?”

  Warin motioned for the harbinger to sit but then placed his hand on his shoulder halting his movement, “Just these past 30 minutes, and we have only just arrived. We can come back later if you wish my lord.”

  Hengist was now fully conscious and sat up in his chair, but to be sure he wasn’t dreaming, he looked around the room for Veronica. Not seeing her he continued, “No, it is imperative that I speak with General Horsa in America and I need you to be present. This herald will be a council of war.”

  Warin nodded and took a seat next to Hengist and then turned to the harbinger and said abusively, “Baslatmak!”

  The harbinger leaned his head back as his eyes rolled and his mouth opened uttering the initial sounds of a herald. Fifty-three hundred miles away, Horsa’s harbinger went stiff as the herald initiated and a messenger ran to the tent of the General to announce the activation, “A herald is being initiated Sir,” said the messenger with his head bowed.

  Horsa was in the middle of a dinner with lots of wine and the message caught him in the middle of a loud guttural laugh. The tent became quiet after the messenger announced the herald and Horsa immediately excused himself from the table and insisted that Gus and his friends continue and that he would return momentarily.

  Entering the tent of the harbinger, Horsa sat down with a grunt due to a very full belly and then sighed, “My distinguished brother, at long last. Where the hell have you been the last week?”

  “In hell,” came Hengist’s voice from the mouth of the harbinger, “The Minimum has dealt us an ugly hand in this area of the world and I can tell by the wine in your voice you do not know of what I speak—at least not yet.”

  Hengist described to Horsa the wasted state of the eastern world and updated him on the state of the army and then concluded as an afterthought, “Oh and I hurt my leg but will recover presently. Now that you are up to speed we have to assume that the same will happen in the West. What is your current location?”

  Horsa was sobering up quickly after hearing the devastating news from the East, “We are within 12 miles of Glacier International, and had plans to take it tomorrow. I have seven divisions in the vicinity, each with individual orders to take control of the major airfields. I have troops as far south as Reno, which is at longitude thirty-nine and a half, but if what you are telling is going to be a global event, perhaps we should remain in the mountains and wait it out?”

  Hengist agreed that positioning in any city regardless of the size was extremely unwise and that Horsa should call a council of war with his captains and reevaluate his strategy in light of impending devastation—total devastation, “Your work will be completed for you by the Minimum, all you need do is provide order and supplies to the survivors and you will be made king. Since the Minimum seems to only destroy structures newer than 1950, all of our resources at the university in Belarus should be preserved. After we are finished I will herald Caleb at my office and have him dispatch supplies to both of us, that is if any of the fleet there has survived. After the Minimum is finished with you in the West, it won’t matter which port I send the ships to since they will all be destroyed. You will have to tether the supplies to shore.”

  With their business concluded, Hengist paused before terminating the communication and added, “And Horsa—bind all your harbingers, they all go into pentacode during the event, which is why I have not been in communication with you.”

  The harbinger in the tent resumed normal posture and Horsa ordered him to be bound as two soldiers dragged him out of the room. He then walked to his tent and called a council of war with his captains.

  The sun was setting in Tangiers and Warin and Hengist made their way to the black beach and boarded the pinnace. As they were rowed toward the Alexander, Warin turned to Hengist, “How do you plan to present Toprak to Lady Veronica so that she will be endeared?”

  Remembering his daydream about Veronica, Hengist responded, “I have an idea, but we need to clean ourselves up and I need to pretend that I care.”

  Veronica was escorted into the Captain’s cabin for dinner dressed in an elegant, black backless dress, one of a dozen dresses Hengist provided for her in her cabin. An elaborate table had been prepared with all of the elegance and finery she enjoyed at home and then she stopped in her thoughts and corrected herself thinking, the elegance of Kensington Palace. She surprised herself that she thought of Kensington as home and smiled as her designated chair was pulled out for her and she sat down.

  Hengist and Warin were standing at the head of the table both dressed in navy blue uniforms with gold ornaments, looking very official and dignified. After Veronica was seated, Hengist and his officers all took their seats and seeing the smile come across Veronica’s face Hengist smiled back at her, “What pleasing thoughts occupy your mind my Lady? I could sorely use a pleasing thought at this hour.”

  Veronica shook her head, “Oh, nothing really my lord. I was just remembering meals at Kensington Palace. You spread a very elegant table, all the more elegant after being on shore today.”

  Hengist’s smile widened when he heard Veronica address him as lord and he again remembered his daydream, “We are not without our comforts and you look especially lovely yourself my Lady.”

  After formal introductions were made and the first course of the meal was brought, individual conversations began to break out around the table. Hengist was seated at the head of the table and Veronica prominently at his right while Warin was on his left. Veronica knew old world naval tradition held that the person of honor at any naval banquet was always on the Captain’s right and even though Hengist was not the captain of the Alexander, he was the most senior in the world of Toprak and his presence aboard was powerfully felt by all.

  All five courses were finely prepared and served with every measure of manor and grace of Buckingham Palace. The conversation was light and enjoyable considering everyone at the table was mostly a stranger to Veronica with the exception of Warin and though she had only known him for a little over a week, he was the only person she considered anything resembling a friend. However, all throughout the meal she could feel Hengist’s eyes upon her and as the night wore on the burden of his glance became increasingly heavy to bear.

  Thankfully, Toprak continued with naval tradition and served port after the meal and even though alcohol and Veronica were never a good mix, she eagerly took a small sip and relaxed with a calm sigh as Hengist finally spoke to her directly, “My Lady, I can’t tell you how it pleases me just being in your presence.” All around the table came shouts of “Here, here!” as glasses were raised and cheers made, the port doing its work.

  Hengist sat his glass down after a long, deep drink and looked at Veronica intently, the alcohol not seeming to affect him at all, “Our world is changing beyond our most wild and horrific imaginations and only a select and very few ev
en know what is happening. To most in the world this week, God has forsaken the earth and hellfire has belched forth from its bowels and devoured it. Through my communications today, we have learned that the entire planet looks the very same as Tangiers with the exception of the Americas, which we have reason to believe will follow suit very soon.”

  Hengist reached out his hand and placed it on top of Veronicas on the table and reassured her, “My General is in Montana with Lord Guiscard and his friends and they are all safe at last report. We have warned them about the impending minimum effects and advised them to remain as far away from any manmade structures as possible. They are near the Glacier Airport tonight and have agreed to wait out the next few days. You need not worry about them. They are currently being protected by the best trained army on the planet, even before it was all destroyed.”

  Veronica narrowed her eyes and shook her head in disgust, “All the world is destroyed?”

  Hengist was still holding her hand and he squeezed it tighter reassuringly, “Nearly all my Lady. We estimate that casualties are around 90 percent in most of the modern cities, perhaps more. However, rural areas have certainly fared better due to the lack of modern manmade structures. The world has been turned on its head. The first have become the last and the last the first, just as the Bible predicted. The least developed countries have the least amount of damage and the highest survival rates making them the most powerful countries in the world now. Meanwhile, the first and second worlds have been nearly completely destroyed, or will be destroyed in the next few days.”

  The feeling in the cabin became sober as Hengist continued explaining the responsibility Toprak now had in the world, “I suppose this will sound to you like a confession but you were right about us you know. We were behind many different military movements and our goal was to capture the world—something we would have accomplished, by the way.” He released Veronica’s hand and took a very deep sigh, placing both hands together in front of him and interlocking his fingers, “Our mission has always been to save mankind from itself even if we had to accomplish it by force. However—it now appears that we will be the only organized body of both means and force in a world of chaos. We have a sacred responsibility to now nurture mankind and a massive opportunity to rebuild the very fabric of society after a manor and principles that will never again lead it to self-destruction.”

  Veronica rolled her eyes slightly and shook her head, which made her dizzy even from the little port she had drunk, “Utopian society. It has been the goal of every government in history and every one an ultimate failure. No matter how pure the motives are in the beginning, power always corrupts in the end. The United States included.”

  Hengist smiled, once again impressed with Veronica’s intellect and practical wisdom, “Do you know why I invited you to join us?”

  Veronica laughed, “You call being knocked unconscious an invitation? I would hate to see your version of abduction.”

  Several of the officers laughed and then quickly regained composure after Warin gave them a sharp look. Warin then looked quickly at Veronica and then at Hengist to see his response after learning that Veronica was harmed during the invitation. This was the first Hengist had heard of the incidents in London and he slowly turned to Warin with a look that made him bow his head in shame and he reverently said, “My lord.”

  Veronica was almost always very deliberate in her speech and choice of words and tonight was no exception. She saw an opportunity to betray one ally for another who was more powerful and it worked—powerfully. It was obvious to Veronica that Hengist was laying it on pretty thick and for whatever reason, he needed her on his side. By betraying Warin for his superiority, Warin would have no choice but to respect her and Hengist’s wishes and if she could convince Hengist that she was a willing participant, it could be very valuable to the King, especially now that Moran had been exposed. It would be a very dangerous game but avoiding danger in the world now was an impossibility.

  Hengist turned to Veronica and apologized for his Captain’s behavior and assured her that he would be reprimanded before the day expired and then continued, “I invited you here because like me, you have powerful ancestry—powerful enough I believe to change the world but since very few things can be accomplished alone, it is time we came back together. History has proven that we can accomplish great things together.”

  Veronica was only slightly confused but pretended to know nothing of what Hengist was talking about, “Great things—me and you?”

  Hengist smiled, “Not just us but all the Anglo-Saxon descendants we have been able to isolate. Which also includes your friend Gus, my brother Horsa and,” Hengist paused and instead of continuing just concluded, “and others. Nearly all of my officers have Saxon heritage in some measure. We have been very careful these past 10 years to identify the bloodline while building our organization. Frankly, we have known about you for quite some time—although we were unaware of your pure Saxon heritage until rather recently.”

  Veronica’s eyes widened and then narrowed remembering her very brief introduction to Toprak Esir in college, and how she was abused physically when she wanted withdraw, “I would assume you have been tracking me since college?”

  Hengist nodded, “Yes. We have always been interested in the brightest and boldest, but it was when you were hired by Lord Guiscard that you were moved onto our A list. Until your appointment in the Senate we only had a casual interest—I sadly admit.”

  Veronica’s growing disgust was becoming more visible as was her frustration with Hengist’s casual references of her abuse at the hands of Toprak employees, “Casual interest—really?! By the way I was treated when I chose to leave the campus association one would think I was an integral part of the global organization!”

  For the first time since their meeting, Veronica saw Hengist confused. His natural demeanor was always complete confidence and control, even when he struggled to stand on his crushed leg earlier in the day. Upon hearing of Veronica’s abuse, he sat up in his chair and moved his glass of port to one side and looked at Veronica intently. She could feel a wall of anger building behind his steel eyes as he asked her to explain.

  The room got very quiet and tense, waiting for Hengist to lose his temper. They obviously knew something about him that Veronica did not and Warin especially looked anxious and he too was looking at Veronica intently. Veronica started slowly, feeling all eyes upon her and as always, she chose her words carefully, “I was introduced to your organization in college by a boyfriend but after a while, I decided I no longer wanted to participate. I was strongly reprimanded and was frankly told I could not leave the organization. I told the gentleman frankly go to hell and that was when he grabbed me by the arm and knocked me to the ground.

  Veronica could see Hengist’s teeth tightly clinched behind his thin lips and red face as he slowly turned to face Warin. This was the second time in an hour that Hengist had learned of Warin abusing Veronica. She was not only an integral part of his plan but he was also consumed with her.

  As Hengist’s eyes landed upon Warin he was visibly uncomfortable and struggled to maintain composure, “My lord—It was a most unfortunate situation and I sorely regret how I handled it and beg of your forgiveness.”

  “That was you?!” said Veronica in surprise, “For hell’s sake, I was just a student—I was nineteen!”

  Hengist stood as all eyes watched him slowly slide in his chair and walk behind Warin, placing his hands on his shoulders, “Captain, I believe you owe the Lady an apology.”

  Warin looked up at Hengist and then at Veronica and swallowed hard, “My lady…” was all he uttered before Hengist drew his knife, cut his throat and then thrust his head down on the table so that his blood would not shower the other guests, “My Lady, this miserable dog is very sorry and I assure you he will not offend you further.”

 

 

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