Legacy of the Mind
*****
‘So are you going to ask her?’ asked Patrick, Bas’ runtish lab assistant, with floppy brown hair, blotchy, almost translucent skin and exceptionally bad fashion sense – although he obviously thought he was the height of cool. He had been probing about this for weeks.
‘Maybe,’ Bas replied, feigning exasperation, but he was fooling no-one, least of all Patrick. Patrick, like everyone else, saw the way Bas looked at Anita and knew there was nothing Bas wanted more than for her to want him too. Patrick, frankly, had always thought Bas was crazy. He could have his pick of any other girl in Empire, and it wasn’t like they didn’t throw themselves at him (much to Patrick’s annoyance), but Bas only had eyes for Anita. He just didn’t get it. Anita was alright he supposed; she was quite good looking, had a cracking body – if you liked the toned, athletic, slightly menacing look – but she was unpredictable and stubborn, she did not suffer fools, and was used to winning everything. In truth, Patrick found Anita intimidating and unfathomable. Maybe that’s what the attraction was, that she was mysterious.
A light started flashing on the dashboard in front of Bas, indicating there was a spike in the energy in the immediate vicinity. The Observatory usually used this measure to keep tabs on when a Descendant was coming, but strangely, Anita had the same effect; her energy was so strong that it set off the alarm. Patrick saw the light too. ‘Well, now’s your chance to maybe ask her. I’ll make myself scarce. See you at The Island later.’
‘Hi Patrick,’ said Anita, as she clunked up the metal spiral staircase into the room. Anita had no idea why Patrick always seemed to be leaving just as she arrived. Obviously she knew why he was going, Cleo and Patrick really should compare notes, but how was his timing always so impeccable?
‘Hi Anita,’ he replied, sensing her bad mood, which made him both doubly glad he was leaving and a little sorry for Bas. ‘I’m just off to The Island. See you there later?’
‘Yep, sure,’ she said, in a terse voice; the last thing Anita wanted was to be left alone with Bas. Patrick turned and grabbed hold of the express exit, a pole through the floor, and winked annoyingly at Bas as he slid out of view.
The Observatory was an incredible building. It had been commissioned by the Descendants four generations back, as they had wanted to keep tabs on the energy. Bas’ family, who had been in charge of the Archives for centuries and were known for their study of the energy, had helped design the building. They’d been put in charge of research from the start, earning Bas’ ancestor a position as a Councillor, a position his father now held and that Bas would hold in the future.
The building was over three levels. Downstairs was a large, perfectly round, midnight blue pool of water that was always eerily still, as it helped to absorb any background energy ‘noise’. The middle floor contained all the dashboards that provided readings of energy levels in various locations around the world, gently humming as it processed the energy flows, dials whishing backwards and forwards and lights flashing in a way that would seem meaningless to the uninitiated. The top floor contained the instruments that actually recorded the energy waves, and this level was Anita’s favourite. There were multiple instruments up there, each trained in a different direction and all with golden receiver dishes attached that were shaped like the energy waves themselves. The receivers were of various sizes so they could pick up different frequencies of energy from different distances, with the biggest so large it had to rest on the floor of the roof. Anita loved to lie on this one and stare up at the stars, feeling the large, lolloping energy waves reverberating through her and off to be recorded in the dashboards downstairs. Of course, this affected the readings, so Bas wouldn’t let her do that at a time like this, but she climbed to the roof anyway to look out over Empire.
Empire had a regal look about it, sort of understated yet effortlessly elegant. It was balanced, embraced and contained by the docile looking river, with several beautiful, arched, red brick bridges stretching across the meandering waters to connect the wealthy centre to the other side. The less desirable areas there were hidden from view from the Observatory by the bulk of the town. The centre of Empire spanned an area about the size of a square mile, built in an era before anyone saw a need to put walls up, the imposing spires of the Temples dominating the skyline, seeming to watch over and protect the buildings around them. Surrounding the Temples sat a number of well-to-do areas with fully stocked food markets, jewellery shops, clothes shops, perfumers, stationers, restaurants that always served an array of new and fantastical concoctions. And then, of course, there were the lovely, large, red brick houses with eccentric gardens full of climbing plants that seemed perfectly at one with their overstated owners. The most desirable houses, lived in generally by Councillors, along with properties owned by the Descendants themselves, tended to sit on the outskirts of town or in the surrounding countryside. They usually sat atop imposing hills or nestled on the side of one of the ancient woodlands, all gloriously picturesque, secluded, and with spectacular views.
Empire had once been the world’s premier city, where trade was done and Gods were worshipped, however, Kingdom, a much more impressive, imposing metropolis had long since claimed that title. Empire now felt like it was in retirement, basking in previous honours and glories, living out a dignified and well thought of old age.
‘I’ll never get tired of that view,’ said Bas, coming through the window to the roof behind Anita and nodding towards the lit up town. ‘I like it best at night.’ Anita moved slightly further onto the roof, so Bas wasn’t standing quite so close, and sat down on one of the pipes that connected the receivers to the dashboards downstairs.
Bas stood easily, leaning against one of the receiver dishes, and Anita appraised him as he struggled with some internal debate; the muscles around his mouth clenching uncharacteristically and a tension filling his torso and powerful arms. ‘So, are you going to the ball?’ he blurted out quickly, trying to make throwing caution to the wind sound casual. Anita turned away so she could hide the look on her face. The only light on the roof came from inside, so she hoped Bas couldn’t see.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Anita swiftly replied. ‘The ball isn’t really my thing. Sucking up to the Councillors, watching everyone make idiots of themselves in front of the Descendants, having to pretend to fawn over every word they say. It isn’t my scene.’
‘Oh,’ Bas replied, his energy immediately tumbling. Anita felt bad, maybe she’d gone too far, Bas was, after all, going to be a Councillor one day, but there was nothing she wanted less than to go to the ball with Bas, and she wasn’t very good in situations like this. Aside from the obvious, that it would give him the wrong impression, she didn’t want every girl in town to hate her. People already thought she was weird for winning all the challenges; she didn’t want to be loathed too.
‘Found anything new with the energy?’ she asked, hoping the change of subject would lift Bas’ mood.
‘No, nothing yet. There was a small downshift when the announcement was made about Philip’s death, but it seems to have come back up again. I’m expecting Alexander’s Crowning to lift the energy further; it’s always exciting to have a new ruling Descendant.’ Philip, Alexander’s grandfather, had recently died, and a high-profile death was always a cause for concern around the energy. ‘It’s Christiana’s death I’m really worried about, what with the unconventional bloodline.’
‘Well, hopefully we won’t have to worry about that for a while. We Body types are generally stronger than we look.’ She shot Bas a smile that was supposed to at the same time say ‘sorry’ and ‘chin up’, but she wasn’t sure that was quite how he took it.
Bas smiled optimistically. ‘I know. I am one, aren’t I? Shall we go?’