She glances at a man on her left once she’s finished speaking and he, a greying man of sixty, stands to address the crowd. He wears a long, brown garment that I’m sure had a name before The Forgotten Lands. He stands in stark contrast to The Guardians on either side of him.
When he speaks his voice is somehow withered but carries far. “We think that it’s best to be honest with you all, since you’ve put your trust in us. The military is in the process of carrying out a plan against Forgotten London. They’re following whispers from high up, possibly as high as the President himself, to destroy our town, us included. We’ve become more than they anticipated and more than they can control.”
Everyone sits a little straighter, leans forward to hear what he says. He’s important. I wish I knew who he was.
“But we will not be around to see their plan exacted,” he goes on after a slight pause. “In exactly ten days’ time we will make our way, secretly, outside of the border, and we will take every citizen of this town with us.”
A number of hands shoot up and voices raise but Alba quietens them. The man sits down, each small movement deliberate, and Alba speak again.
“You’ll receive instructions for the evacuation in the next two days. I’m afraid staying here, in the base, is not an option if you want to keep your lives. Anyone who has any issues, please find a Guardian and talk to them. Thank you for listening.”
The screens die down and the speakers cut off with a scream. I look at Miya out of the corner of my eye.
She looks angry.
And devious.
“Whatever you’re planning,” I say, “don’t.”
“Who says I’m planning anything?” she asks innocently.
I laugh and she smiles a devilish smile.
“Dangerous?” I ask.
“Yep.”
“Crazy?”
“Probably.”
“Actually possible?”
“Yeah. I reckon it is.”
I nod thoughtfully. “For what reason?”
“The hell of it.”
I roll my eyes.
“And,” she adds, “it’ll probably help some people out.”
I look at her with widened eyes. “A selfless act? Really, Miya?”
She shrugs. “I’m only in it for the excitement. If this town is going down I’m not gonna follow everyone else because The Guardians say so. I want to see it.”
I know how she feels but I don’t tell her that. “Alba didn’t say anything about the town going down. If you’d have listened, The Guardians are going to evacuate Forgotten London before anything happens.”
“Oh please,” Miya snorts. “If these guys start stealing people from under the Officials’ noses everything’s going to kick off.”
“All hell will break loose,” I whisper.
She grins. “Exactly.”
“And you want to be in the epicentre of it, I assume?”
“What’s life without a bit of reckless, life-endangering excitement?”
“You,” I sigh, “are going to be the death of me one of these days.”
“Hey, I never said you had to come with me.”
I raise an eyebrow. She knows there’s no way in hell that I’m letting her go anywhere without me.
She touches my face for a fleeting moment and then she’s darting up and pushing through the crowd of people trying to leave. I stand to look for her, shouting, “Miya, where are you going?”
When she turns her head she has the widest smile on her face and her eyes are glowing in the amber light of this ballroom. My heart thuds faster. “To clear the plan with Alba.”
“What plan?”
“You’ll see,” she shouts, disappearing.
I shake my head and sit back down as I wait for the crowd to clear.
***
Branwell
11:36. 07.10.2040. Forgotten London, Edgware Zone.
“Alba!” I yell. I hurry along the busy corridor after the leader of The Guardians, pushing around people and gasping out apologies as I go. “Alba, I need to talk to you!”
It’s the first time in two days that I have seen her alone, never mind within walking distance of her office. The only time I was able to speak to her was before we set off for the vault in Underground London, but at the time I was far too distracted to remember that I had something urgent to tell her.”
“Can’t it wait?” she asks in annoyance once I catch up to her.
“No, I’m afraid it can’t. I have been trying to speak to you for days. I’ve had a revelation, and I think that something terrible is about to happen.”
“All right, all right.” She releases an unladylike groan, holding the door to her office open.
I jump right into my explanation. “You know that I am here because it is where I need to be, and that I was searching for my father’s device and The Weapon when I was deposited here. Honour suggested that I was brought here, to Forgotten London, because this is where the devices are being kept.”
She looks at me for a long moment before saying, “That’s all?”
“What do you mean ‘that’s all’? The whole city could be in grave danger! If the diseases you so fear don’t kill you, and if at least one of The Weapon and The Lux exists in this place, you’ll be killed anyway. You do not understand the things they are capable of.”
“What are they capable of?”
“Killing everything in this world. The Weapon has two functions—it both burns everything in its path and collapses the ground from below our feet. It’s a menace, and one that you should worry about if it truly is here. You should consider the possibility that your Officials possess it.”
Alba’s eyes are dark and thoughtful. “Tell me how it burns everything in its path.”
“It … scorches. It burns anything it comes into contact with. The man who invented it told me so himself. It would leave nothing standing and nothing alive.”
“I thought so,” Alba whispers. “But that’s not possible. It can’t be that weapon.”
“I am not sure what you mean.”
“The founder of The Guardians wrote about a weapon that did the exact same things as you say. It sounds identical.”
“Do you think that your founder came from the same time as I?”
She makes a noncommittal sound. “The weapon our founder spoke about was the thing responsible for the sun flares. Not that they were technically solar flares—”
“But they replicated them exactly,” I finish. “Yes, that is what The Weapon is designed to do. That’s what I had come to the conclusion of—that it was The Weapon that blackened your world.”
“Oh God.”
“So The Weapon from my time is responsible for the destruction from yours,” I think aloud. “But that makes little sense. Whoever did this to your world must have been in possession of The Weapon and The Lux since my own timeline. Why would they wait so long to deploy it? You say that the solar flares came twenty years ago?”
“Twenty five.”
“Then why wait? Why wait over a hundred years?”
“Are you asking me or yourself?”
I stare at the far wall of her office. Papers and maps have been pinned to the wall, next to which is a framed photograph of a baby in a cradle. “Both, I suppose.”
“There could be a number of reasons. But it might have taken them that long to pull together a strategy of how to use the machines. Being in possession of something doesn’t mean you know how to use it.”
I am sure, adamant, that she is wrong. “No, they did. They must have done. I just cannot think of a reason to explain it.”
“Not now, but the reason might come to you in time. You seem intelligent. You’ll figure it out.”
“And for now? Should I venture out into the city and begin my search again?”
“No. There won’t be much point. You might as well stay here and come with us when we leave Forgotten London. There’s a strong chance the military will blow up the town as
we’re leaving anyway, so that will destroy any machines they might have.”
I shake my head in wonder. She has spoken the words but not listened to them. “And what do you suppose they will ‘blow up the town’ with, Alba?”
“Explosives,” she says dismissively. She’s clearly finished with our conversation, but I am not.
“The Weapon,” I say. “They wouldn’t need explosives with it, nor would they blow anything up. The ground would cave in. Buildings would topple over. Everything would fall.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Alba says, though I can tell my words have her thinking.
“And you are underestimating the coincidence of my being here. That is to say—there is none. I am here for a reason, for some purpose. I think this is it.”
“It won’t matter either way. We’re leaving this town.”
“I think you’re being foolish, Alba.”
“And I think you are grasping at straws for some kind of sense. Thank you for your information. I’ll let The Guardians outside of the base know to keep an eye out for your machines, but I am not giving you permission to leave for some wild goose chase. For now you’re under the protection of The Guardians, and you’ll follow our rules.”
I force back every vile word that comes to mind. “Thank you for your time.”
***
Miya
12:01. 08.10.2040. Forgotten London, Edgware Zone.
I look at the cards in my hand and I force back a grin. I’ve won for sure.
I’m playing against three Guardians-in-training in the main common room of The Guardians’ base. This is usually where the little kids and annoying idiots hang out, but today is poker day—and The Guardians play for money.
I’ve already won 20 credits, but my opponents have upped the stakes this time. They think they can beat me. If only they knew that this was how I used to make most of my money when I lived out in the real world with Yosiah. I’d take on the occasional bar fight for ten credits, but it wasn’t really worth it for that little. Most of our money came from bets I would put on Yosiah when he fought. He was good, scarily good, and people knew it. He’d get anything up to a hundred credits for a fight and I’d make twice that in bets. But card games were my favourite way of making money, and I’m as good at them as Siah is at fighting.
Josh, the only opponent I know, purses his lips and puts another four credits on the table. I only have five credits down, but I plan to take away fifty.
It takes me another minute to win the game, and three minutes after that to convince everyone that I didn’t cheat.
“She’s gifted at cards,” Yosiah explains with a smile as the losers walk away irritated.
“She’s a devil.” Josh laughs. He leans back and looks at me. “How do you do it?”
I shrug and collect my credits, turning each white plastic coin over in my hand to check that it’s a legitimate credit. I’d have a hard time tracking down anyone who had given me a fake credit now, but I do it out of habit. Usually credits are checked before a game.
“I just do,” I say. Josh makes me nervous in a way I don’t like. He looks at me like I’m something he wants and I don’t want him to want me.
A shriek saves me from having to talk to him anymore and we all look up. A tall, golden-haired girl attempts to run away from a livid-looking guy that’s even blonder than she is.
“You!” she says, horrified.
Blondie catches up to her, grabs her wrists, and pins her against the wall. I’m on my feet in seconds, Yosiah beside me.
When I get close enough to the two I can see that the girl is as angry as the guy.
“What the hell?” Josh demands, striding up to the two. “Who the fuck are you? Marrianne, are you okay?”
The guy ignores her. He’s taller than Josh, as tall as Marrianne, and actually he looks a lot like her. I wonder if they’re related.
“Oh my God,” someone gasps and for the first time I notice that Blondie didn’t come into the room alone. There’s a girl with him; tall, dark skinned, black hair in a braid that hangs over her right shoulder. She’s skinnier than the last time I saw her and it makes her look taller. Her eyes are huge and scared and her hands are shaking.
“This is unexpected,” I remark.
“Horatia?” Yosiah stares. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in States?”
She shakes her head; her eyes don’t move from Blondie. “No, I’m here.”
“Yes,” Siah whispers, “I can see that. Honour doesn’t know, does he?”
“You’re pathetic!” Marrianne screeches, disrupting Horatia’s reply. She struggles against Blondie’s hold and snarls at him like an animal. She’s feral. “You’re a coward, Marrin, you have been since a child.”
“No,” Blondie—who’s apparently called Marrin—replies. His voice is low and powerful. I don’t want to get on the wrong side of him. “I’m a lot braver than you think I am.”
She cackles. I share a look with Yosiah that tells me neither of us know what to do. This fight seems to be about something beyond The Guardians and way beyond us.
She hisses, “What are you even doing here?”
“Saving the world from you, Anna,” he replies coldly.
For a while Marrianne stares venomously at Marrin and I wait to see how this will play out. One of them is going to break, I can sense it. I get the feeling that Marrianne is ready to explode, but Marrin’s anger is simmering under the surface. I know enough about trying to control my temper to tell when someone else is struggling with it. One of them is going to blow, but I can’t tell who it’s going to be.
“What the hell is going on here?” Alba shouts.
I jump half a mile. Yosiah’s hand rests, for a moment, on my back. Marrianne takes advantage of Marrin’s distraction to try and kick him in the shins. Impossible, but she tries anyway. Alba looks at the scene in front of her with a mix of anger and confusion.
The fight goes out of Marrianne all at once when she realises it was Alba who shouted, and she slumps against the wall. “He attacked me,” she says in a weak voice a million miles from before.
I laugh out loud. Wow. Feral, vicious Marrianne has changed her whole self in a second. She’s now snivelling, defenceless Marrianne. The only problem is that she’s forgotten half of the room has already seen her for what she really is.
“Have you ever wondered how protected information of yours has been leaking to Officials?” Marrin asks Alba in a calm voice that sends a chill down my spine. I don’t want Josh to look at me like he wants me but this guy can.
“We know how that information was leaking,” Alba says. Her eyes flick to Horatia with a look of repulsion. I feel sorry for her because it’s obvious what’s happened. Going on Marrin’s words, Marrianne betrayed The Guardians. Alba obviously thinks Horatia did it. “You leaked it all. You’re responsible for the deaths of people you should have considered family. What were they to you—collateral damage?”
Marrin lets out a livid snarl. “It wasn’t her! Don’t be stupid. How would she be able to gain access to your plans? The military know everything you intend to do, the date you’re going to do it, and everything else you want to keep secret. It was Marrianne who told them—my sister.”
Marrianne whines, “Alba, he’s lying!” She flicks a perfect ringlet out of her face and turns pleading eyes on her leader. She makes me sick. “He’s lying.”
Marrin goes on, ignoring his sister. “My name is Marrin Beaulieu.” A gasp echoes around the room. They know who he is. I wish they’d let me in on it, because I don’t have a clue. “This is Marrianne Beaulieu—General of The Highest Order, and most influential and powerful member of the military in Forgotten London. And you let her inside your headquarters.”
Son of a bitch!
Alba takes a step closer to Marrianne. “Is that true?”
“No,” she protests. “No, I swear.”
Alba replies coolly, “You’re lying.”
&nbs
p; A high, unhinged laugh bursts from Marrianne. She’s dropped the poor, helpless act and realised the game’s up. Either that or she’s bored of playing along. “You got me.”
“But … why?”
“Because it’s my job. Because you’re the lowest of the low—sewer rats we call you. You’re worse than the commoners, at least they know their place. You people sicken me.”
Someone in the room shouts a string of names I’d be proud of.
Alba watches Marrianne with sadness. “We gave you a home. What did we do to deserve this?”
“You started to make people doubt. Do you know what happens when people doubt? They’re killed. And when this useless town is gone, I will lose everything. All because you people are selfish and can’t do what you’re told.”
“You—you’re—I don’t even have words for what you are.” Alba’s hands curl into fists. “You were the one that told me about Horatia.”
Marrianne smiles. Marrin pushes her harder into the wall.
“That was a lie, wasn’t it?”
She smiles even wider. “She deserved it. She was sniffing around my brother like some pathetic lap dog. She deserved all she had coming to her.” She lets out a choked sound and her hands flutter at her neck. Marrin grips her throat with a white-knuckled hand. Her face gets redder and redder. I start to applaud but Yosiah silences me with a look.
“Marrin,” Horatia says. Her voice is gentle but it carries to him. He goes completely still. “Don’t kill her.”
Marrin lets go of his sister’s neck and holds her by her shoulders instead. His eyes are on fire.
Alba nears Marrianne, her face grave. “Tell me everything you’ve done since you got here and your punishment will be less painful.”
“You think I care about my punishment?” she spits. “I’m a military child. I was raised on punishment.”
“Tell me.”
Marrianne rolls her eyes. “Fine. I collected information and gave it to the military, to my father. He knows everything about The Guardians. I got into confidential files, locked information, everything,” she proclaims. “And I started noticing things. People you were protecting, for example.”