*****
The following morning, Anita woke early and made her way to the garden for her usual yoga session, however, after a couple of minutes it was clear that her mind wasn’t going to let her concentrate, vivid flashbacks of the previous night rudely interrupting. She decided to sack in the yoga in favour of something more vigorous, so donned her running trainers and headed for the river. As she ran, she contemplated, revisiting the conundrum that had been preoccupying pretty much all of her conscious thought for the last two days; Marcus or Alexander? Last night had been so much fun; they’d gone to some Councillor’s daughter’s 25th birthday and had danced for hours. Marcus had ignored everyone but Anita for the whole evening, much to the annoyance of all the female guests, as well as the Councillor hosting the event, who had kept trying to find reasons for Marcus to dance with his daughter. The only thing that had put a slight dampener on the evening was that Gwyn had been at the party too and had made a snipe at Anita as she and Marcus passed, not to mention the negativity that Anita could feel in Gwyn’s energy towards her. Marcus was oblivious to it, and when Anita had brought it up, he’d unhelpfully suggested she was paranoid. How could men be so blind when it came to the relationships between women? It never failed to amaze Anita how they could ignore what was right in front of them.
After the party, they’d walked along the river bank back to Cordelia’s house, dancing as they went and pausing every so often to kiss in the starlight. Marcus had brought up the weekend, clearly unhappy about the trip, although he’d struggled a little to find the best way to broach the issue. Eventually he’d settled on warning Anita off Alexander, saying it was bad enough she had to have lessons with him, but weekends away just went too far. At that point he’d reminded Anita of a pompous, puffed up bird, his feathers all ruffled. He’d told her that next time, she should let him show her Kingdom, as, unlike Alexander, he really knew the city and the sights to see. Anita had distracted him by saying she’d seen his home, telling him how enchanting she thought it was which, luckily, had thrown the conversation in a new, more positive direction.
The conversation had been light hearted and fun for the rest of the walk, until they’d reached Cordelia’s gate, where Marcus had suddenly turned serious, kissing Anita meaningfully and hinting in every unspoken way he could that she should invite him to stay. She hadn’t taken the hint, but instead had thanked him for a fun evening, given him a lingering yet firm goodbye kiss, then turned and made her way inside.
Anita snapped out of her day dream to find herself at least five miles further along the river than she’d expected, so turned around and headed back in the direction she’d come, her mind switching back to what she should do next. She felt guilty about Marcus and Alexander and knew at some point she was going to have to make a decision. Marcus would only take her seeing Alexander for so long before he found a way to put an end to their lessons, and Alexander couldn’t be expected to continue as they were for an indefinite period, and it wouldn’t be fair on him even if he were happy to.
The problem was that Marcus was more fun than Alexander, but Alexander was interested in the energy and the position of the world and all the things Anita was fascinated by and opinionated over. But then, maybe Alexander would lighten up if he wasn’t so worried about the danger posed to her by Marcus? One thing she had decided for certain was that she didn’t want to spy on Marcus for the Institution. He might not be perfect, but he didn’t deserve that and the Institution sounded like an extremely shady organisation. It pained Anita to think that she would lose the opportunity to find out more about her parents, but she’d lived this long without the knowledge, so she reasoned she could probably go on living without it, and maybe some research into Helena’s background would throw up a few leads. She decided to tell Helena at the earliest available opportunity. In fact, she wondered, where had she been anyway? It wasn’t like Helena to be so lax about getting an answer.
Anita arrived home, showered, changed, and then headed to the Body Temple. There was no time like the present, so she went to find Helena to tell her the bad news.
As luck would have it, Anita didn’t have to look for Helena at all; she bumped into her just outside the Temple. ‘Anita, hi,’ said a surprised Helena. ‘Funnily enough I was just coming to find you.’
‘Great minds think alike,’ smiled Anita. ‘I was coming to find you too. I’ve considered what you said,’ she continued quickly, before Helena had a chance to intervene, ‘and I’ve decided that I can’t do what you asked. It’s simply not fair on Marcus, regardless of who his father is.’
Helena paused before replying, giving Anita a piercing look that reminded her of a school teacher, before seeming to soften, her internal dialogue warning her that meeting Anita head on was not the way to go. The Spirit Leader’s words came back to her, ‘I know your natural reaction is to bully her into it, but she won’t respond well to that; she’s a lot like you, you see.’
‘I’d like to show you something. Do you have time to come with me now?’ asked Helena quietly, her response taking Anita off guard. It was unlike Helena to ask so nicely; she usually assumed that nobody had anything better to do than what she wanted.
‘Of course,’ replied Anita, an inquisitive look painted across her face. ‘What do you want to show me?’
She gave Anita a frank look. ‘It’s better for you to see for yourself.’
Anita knew there was no point in arguing, so she nodded. ‘Lead the way.’
Helena led Anita to an energy car and climbed into the driving seat, Anita taking position next to her in the front. Helena fired up the car, tutting as she noticed one of the lights on her dashboard flashing, but in her usual brisk fashion ignored it; she couldn’t be less interested in cars or their various problems. Helena drove out of Empire into the countryside beyond, travelling in silence as neither knew quite how to broach the awkward subject in between them; Anita’s parents.
After only a few miles, Helena turned onto a small, almost hidden track, which wound its way to a large but rundown farm house. They reached the house and Helena stopped the car and got out, swinging the squeaky door closed behind her, gesturing for Anita to join her. By the time Anita had caught up, Helena was half way across the yard, heading for a colossal storage barn. She got there and pulled the enormous door open on its runners, signaling that Anita should have a look within.
Anita peered into the relative dark inside, waiting for her eyes to adjust, but unless she was missing something, it looked like there was nothing there to be seen. ‘I’m not sure I understand,’ she said hesitantly, turning to look at Helena. ‘There doesn’t appear to be anything in there.’
‘And that is precisely the point,’ she replied bluntly. ‘Usually at this time of year this barn would be full of grain, but since the news of Christiana’s death, crops have started to fail, fishermen have reportedly found dead fish floating in the rivers and lower yields in the sea, and as you know from your work at the Observatory, we’ve seen no bounce back as predicted by Austin. Come with me,’ she said, turning away from the barn and walking further across the grey concrete farm yard and out the other side, stopping when she reached an old wooden gate into one of the fields. ‘Look at that,’ she said, gesturing to a field covered in a flattened wheat crop that had turned from its characteristic golden brown to a blackish grey colour.
Anita looked gravely at the sight. ‘How widespread is the issue?’ she asked emptily.
‘Very,’ replied Helena. ‘Farmers all over the world are reporting issues, some worse than others. This is a pretty extreme example; the farmer’s lost nearly everything this year, his farm won’t survive another harvest like it.’
‘And presumably it’ll push up food prices. Is it bad enough to cause shortages?’
‘This year we’ll probably just about survive, but if it continues into next year the story will be very different. I don’t know how much prices will go up though. That could
lead to protests in itself.’
‘Protests?’ Anita asked ,shocked. She’d heard of protests a couple of decades back, but had never in her lifetime been aware of any taking place. People didn’t generally have a cause worth running the risks associated with protesting. ‘I can’t imagine many people will want to protest in front of Austin, and what could he do about it anyway?’
‘It never ceases to amaze me how your generation have seemingly no interest in politics. We used to protest about a whole host of things that mattered. I used to protest. I remember the Institution organising a couple of protests around the Descendants not taking their vows seriously, although, of course, we didn’t publicise the fact they were organised by us. But that all came to a rather abrupt halt when Austin obtained the information about us, so now we can’t do anything.’
‘What would you do if Austin didn’t have the information about you?’
‘Protest, rebel, start to make people believe there could be freedom under the relic if we overthrow the Descendants, give people hope there’s a better way to live, even if the bloodline is broken, put some pressure on the Descendants to actually start to carry out what they promise in their vows, including reinstating the relic experts.’ Helena was becoming more and more animated as she spoke. ‘We’ve got to do something, we can’t just sit back and take our fate if that means starvation. Can you imagine a world where you can’t get food without having to fight for it? Or where you’re not sure when you’ll next be able to eat? You’ll be alright if you stay in with the Descendants; they’ve probably already started to stockpile, but if this goes on unchecked, just think of the consequences.’
‘But I’m sure when the Descendants find out the full extent of this, they will take action.’
Helena laughed a cruel laugh. ‘You think Austin’s going to come to the rescue of the people?’
‘There are two other Descendants,’ Anita sniped back. ‘I know Alexander will fight for action, and how can Peter not join him?’
This tipped Helena over the edge. ‘Open your bloody eyes Anita. Peter is spineless; he’ll never stand up to Austin, meaning it’s Alexander against Austin, who has Peter’s silent support. That’s two Descendants against one; Alexander will never win that way.’
‘But Marcus has influence over Austin. I know he can make him see sense.’
‘By the Gods, Anita, have you really let the fact you have feelings for Marcus cloud your judgement to such an extent? Marcus had no power with Austin; he’s a puppy who follows his master around, nothing more, and the only way Marcus will ever get more power is if he becomes who Austin wants him to be. The only one who really has Austin’s ear is Amber, and even then, her influence is limited. The only way to get them to listen is to take direct action and that’s why we need you.’
Helena was back in school teacher mode and Anita didn’t appreciate it. She was no longer Helena’s pupil, so if Helena wanted her help, she could damn well stop trying to press gang her into it and try asking nicely. ‘Tell me, Helena, why is it I should trust you? Your credentials aren’t exactly what you might call exemplary. You were my teacher and mentor for years but never once told me anything about my parents, despite knowing full well I was desperate for information. You come to me representing some shady organisation that I’ve never heard of, talking about starting a revolution, to overthrow the rule of two of my friends, to steal back some kind of information without knowing what that information is, and worst of all, you dangle the carrot of finding out about my parents to try and force me into helping you. As I said before, I’ve made up my mind. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you; you’ll have to find another way.’ Anita turned away from Helena and vaulted the gate into the field. She would walk back to Empire; she couldn’t stand being around Helena for a second longer.
Anita crossed two fields that both looked exactly like the last, covered in blackened, flattened crops, so she knew Helena wasn’t lying, at least about the enormity of the problem facing the world. Obviously something had to be done, but she was sure the Descendants, even Austin, would have to see sense and do something once they really knew what was happening. There was a Council meeting in a week or so; Bas was giving an energy update and she was sure they’d listen and take action then.
As Anita crossed the next field, some movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. In the top corner of the field there was a small stone structure that she recognised as a shrine to the Body God Tatiana. In front of the shrine were two men, one holding still a struggling goat and the other holding a knife up to the sky. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after a few moments the man with the knife lowered his hands and slit the throat of the goat in one clean movement, the animal’s body losing its life and collapsing to the floor. The two men placed the carcass in the shrine and Anita stopped, stock still, shocked at what she was witnessing. She’d heard of sacrifices to the Gods obviously, who hadn’t, but she’d never actually seen one. She could only imagine the desperation the farmers felt; they thought they were about to lose their livelihoods, their farms, and worst of all, that they, along with the rest of the people of the world, would starve. The men knelt in front of the shrine and started to pray. Anita moved on, she wouldn’t like to be observed if their roles were reversed.
Helena was furious. That couldn’t have gone much worse if I’d tried, she thought savagely, and worst of all, it was all her fault. The Spirit Leader had warned her about trying to bully Anita into it and she’d failed none the less. There was nothing that wound up Helena more than her own mistakes, and she hated herself for it. She beat herself up and replayed their discussion in her head, supposing what might have happened if she’d gone about it differently. Maybe she should’ve told Anita something about her parents, or made something up about the information they were trying to get back? Either way, Anita’s faith in the Descendants, especially in Austin’s desire to do the right thing, was worrying. Was she really that blind to the truth? If she was, then there was no hope of rectifying the situation, but Anita was the only way. ‘Damn it,’ she said furiously, pissed off at her own incompetence, ‘how could you be such a stupid, blundering idiot.’ She slammed her balled up fist into the roof of her car before yanking open the squeaky door, clambering in without her usual grace, and slamming the door as hard as she could behind her.