Skybreach (The Reach #3) (24 page)

Not for the first time, he felt like a prisoner in a cell who was only afforded one brief glimpse of the outside world each day.

Jozef looked around the room.  His lodgings were austere, with a simple sleeping pallet in one corner, a desk from which he conducted his affairs in the other and a frayed hessian mat in between.  The latter was used for meditation, although of late, his time for such undertakings had been severely curtailed.

He had lived within these four walls for longer than he cared to remember – years, in fact – and yet he
had never grown to like it.  In truth, he hated being removed from nature in this way.  The idea that the room was more like a prison cell than the living quarters of a free man had taken root the first time he had seen it
,
and never left.  It was a cold and unyielding box that kept him from Mother’s touch, a hateful thing that he could not abide no matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise.

Yet, he knew that he had no choice but to remain here.  This was where his people needed him to be.

He stepped forward and dropped to one knee, levelling his eyes with the bonsai tree, a simple boxwood that was situated on the table before him.  He reached out and placed his fingers on the pot, an oval clay piece with a metallic green glaze that Jozef himself had created, and slid the bonsai into the centre of the patch of sunlight, where he hoped it would catch as much radiance as possible.

“Jozef?” came a voice behind him.

“Shepherd Gault,” Jozef said without turning around.  “Is everything in readiness?”

“Yes, but… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Jozef smoothed out the tiny pebbles that had been laid across the bed of the pot, patting them down gently with the tips of his fingers, and then he affectionately stroked the tiny statue of the Japanese fisherman that had been placed in the soil for decoration.  Although worn and chipped, the statue invariably brought a smile to Jozef’s lips.  The old man that had been immortalised in the carving possessed such a look of serenity, of oneness with his surroundings, that Jozef couldn’t help but feel the same kind of calmness overwhelm him
whenever he looked upon the statue.

He finally straightened and turned
to Gault.  “Then speak.”

“I’ve spoken to some of the others,” Gault said hesitantly.  “I know you might not look kindly upon this, but we’ve come up with a way to get you to safety.  You don’t have to go on with the others, Jozef.”

Jozef turned his head and stared pensively at the wall, trying to retain his composure.  It was not an easy thing to do.  Sometimes he thought even his most ardent followers had learned nothing from his teachings.

“You’re right.  I don’t look upon your words kindly.”

“Please,” Gault said, stepping forward, “hear me out–”

“You know better than this,” Jozef said, an undercurrent of vehemence in his quiet voice.  “Why would you disrespect me with this fraudulence?”

“You need to
live
,” Gault pleaded, tears in his eyes.  “The children will need you once this is over.  They’ll need someone to look up to.”

“And so you would have me renege on my promises at the eleventh hour.  You would have me make a mockery of all that I’ve said.”

“But if you–”

“I would never ask one of the children to do something that I myself would not do.  This is the way it must be.  You already know this.”

Gault hung his head, realising he was making no headway.  “I just… I fear for those who will follow us.”

Jozef reached out and placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“Do not.  They will carve their own path without us.”

“But how?”

“That is not a concern for you or I, Shepherd Gault.  We were not put on this world for that purpose.  Our task is here.  Our task is
now
.  All we need to do is follow through until our destinies are fulfilled.”  He lifted Gault’s chin.  “Mother will nurture and protect those who follow.  She will mould them as necessary.”

“Yes.  I understand.”

Jozef turned to the bonsai behind him.  “Just as the sun falls across this tree each day, giving it a few moments of brilliance, we too have had our time to bask in the glory of Mother’s creation.  Tomorrow there will be a new day, and someone else to stand where we once stood.”

Gault stepped closer to the bonsai, looking down at it pensively.

“I’ve always wanted to know – h
ow did you make this?” he said, brushing his fingers lightly against the green foliage.  “It’s so tiny and perfect.”

Jozef smiled.  “I did not create it, Shepherd Gault.  This tree was here long before I arrived, and it will endure long after I have gone.  I merely inherited it and tended to it as best I could whilst it was in my possession.”  He went and kneeled on the hessian mat as he regarded it.  “Think of that.  This tiny, fragile thing of wood and leaves has existed long beyond the span of any man’s life.  It watched on while our civilisation reached its most dizzying heights.  It saw the Wright brothers as they first lifted their feet and skimmed above the ground.  It saw the first skyscrapers stand tall.  It saw wars and death and rebirth, saw man first break free of the clutches of gravity and travel to the moon.  It saw the elevators stretch mightily toward the heavens, watched as we colonised the far reaches of other worlds.”  He smiled thinly.  “And then it saw it all crumble again.  Saw it fall.”

“It’s breathtaking, in a way,” Gault said.

“Indeed.”  Jozef gave him a measuring look.  “But know this: the bonsai achieves perfection not through the touch of the artisan, but through patience. 
Patience
.  There is no substitute.  Every gentle clipping, every twist of wire around branch is another small step on a very long road.”  He got to his feet again.  “It is the same with us.  You know how long I’ve waited for this day, don’t you?”

Gault nodded.  “Yes.”

“I have waited my whole life.  In the years to come they will wonder at how it was done.  How did Children of Earth gather so many people, how did they draw together their plans with such perfection?  The answer is simple.  Patience.”

“And now we are ready for the Atrium once again.”

“Yes, we are.”

“We have learned from the last time we were there.  We will not fail again.”

Jozef
worked his jaw ruefully.  “It is a shame that not all of our number understood the virtue of patience throughout the years.  That ill-conceived assault on the Atrium almost cost us everything.”

Gault seemed baffled for a moment.  “Blake and his men took a chance, it’s true, but–”

“Blake defied my orders.  He and those he took with him acted rashly.  There was word that the Stormgates had opened, true, but we were not yet ready to put our plan into action.”  Jozef’s eyes narrowed.  “It is fortunate that the Enforcers did not put the pieces together and come looking for us afterwards.  We were not
strong enough to hold them off
then.  All would have been lost.”

“Mother watches over us.  She keeps us safe.”

Jozef favoured him with a smile.  “Yes.  I think that is true.”  He clasped Gault’s shoulder firmly.  “Now, to the task at hand.  We have many floors to climb.  Gather the others, and make sure those in Lux and elsewhere begin preparations.”

“Of course, Jozef.”

“I will join you presently to give one final address to the children.”

Gault turned and walked from the room, and Jozef looked about for one last time.  His eyes were drawn to the corner, where a rusted metal pipe snaked upward to the ceiling.  He considered it for a moment, then walked forward.

Slipping his hand around the cool metal, Jozef pulled himself up, bracing his feet against the walls and wiggling his shoes into the joins in the cladding to provide extra purchase.  He had repeated this routine many times over the years, and the climb came naturally to him.  In a few seconds he had reached the window that looked out across the landscape, and he beheld the world below in the morning light.

Jozef felt his breath lodge in his throat.  No matter how many times he looked upon her, Mother still managed to stun him with her beauty, even now in this horrid, defiled state in which mankind had left her.  He thought of how she had watched over her children as they’d evolved from tiny and insignificant single cell
ed
organisms to the complex, sentient creatures they’d eventually become.  After all those countless days, those millions of years, how must she have felt to see those very same children abandon her when she most needed them?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he strained his neck to look outward.  “You deserved better, Mother.  Today, your healing will
take a great leap forward.”

He stared out into the sunlight for a moment longer, then climbed carefully back to the floor again.  He dusted a patch of grime from his clothes, then made his way over to the table and moved the bonsai again, centring it within the patch of sunlight that was already beginning to narrow.

Then he gathered his things and left the room for the last time.

24

Knile came to suddenly, the sound of nearby footsteps triggering survival instincts he had developed long ago.  He sat up and reached behind his back, his fingers closing around the shiv in his belt, but then Roman appeared in the doorway and he relaxed.

“Hey, don’t gut me,” Roman said, feigning alarm.  “I’m just the messenger.”

“Sorry,” Knile said, getting up from the bench and allowing his hand to drop away from his belt.  He scratched at his head as he attempted to shake off sleep.  “Old habits, y’know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Knile gathered up his holophone from the table and followed Roman out into the corridor.

“What’s going on?”

“Silvestri’s brought together his war council, or whatever he calls it.”  Roman gave him a smirk as they started forward.  “You might have heard about it if you hadn’t been watching the back of your eyelids.”

Knile punched him good-naturedly on the shoulder.  “There’s this new concept I heard about.  It’s called sleep.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.  I just tried it for” – he checked his wristwatch – “three hours, after working on DNA shit for almost forty-eight hours straight.”

“Sleep is a myth,” Roman said.  “At least around here.”

“So I take it you haven’t gotten any just lately?”

Roman made a curt razzing sound.  “As if.  I’ve been working on Yun’s semiconductor processing line this whole time.”

“Any progress?”

“Yeah, I think we’ve got there after about ten thousand misfires.  We won’t know for sure until we step up to the Stormgates, but all of the diagnostics check out at least.”

“Have they nominated someone to head up there?  Couldn’t hurt to do a dry run.  If everything works the way it should, they’ll be able to walk through the gates and then come back again afterwards.”

“Silvestri’s worried about that,” Roman said.  “He thinks it might attract attention.  What if the Consortium sees it happen and figures out what we’re up to?  All that time spent developing the chips would be wasted.”

Knile frowned.  “Maybe, but I don’t like the thought of going in cold.  Too much risk.”

“You can argue that with him, Knile.  But, I’m telling you, if we have to go back to the drawing board on this
stuff,
you’re
the one who’s going to be peering at semiconductors through a microscope for days on end.”

“Deal.  And you can handle the DNA.”  He wrinkled up his nose.  “Hope you enjoy getting stool samples from Holger.”

Roman shot him a horrified glance.  “You didn’t…”  He stared at Knile as he tried to figure out if he was
serious.

Knile laughed.  “No, I didn’t.  But looking inside that guy’s mouth was terrifying enough.”

They reached the meeting room and found the usual crew had already assembled.  Silvestri was having an animated discussion with Aksel as they stared at a terminal screen, and Yun stood nearby with Talia, gesturing to a gold, octagonal chip that she held pinched between thumb and forefinger.  Lazarus stood off to the side of the room with his massive arms folded across his chest and his eyes closed, as if he’d nodded off while he waited.

As Silvestri saw them enter, he gave Aksel a pat on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear, and then walked to the centre of the room.

“Attention, please,” he said, clapping his hands together.  He waited a moment for the chatter to subside.  “It’s been brought to my attention that there have been more developments this morning, not only in Gaslight, but in other parts of the Reach as well.  Iris, can you bring us up to speed?”

Iris stepped forward.  “I’ve been working with Aksel over the past day or so to try tracking Children of Earth as they move around the Reach.  We’re trying to stay one step ahead of them, or at least create an early warning system should they make another play.  It hasn’t been easy.  The bastards have managed to disguise themselves pretty well after the first attack.  Until this morning we didn’t have anything concrete to go on, but then…”  She shook her head.  “This morning it seems like they’ve abandoned all attempts at subterfuge.  They’re popping up e
verywhere and making no attempt to hide themselves.”