Authors: Mark Clark
‘Oh, I’m sure you’ve worked it all out, boy,’ said Sebastian. ‘Clever boy like you. My good friend Elizabeth has very kindly helped me to reach I.Q. 1000. And you wouldn’t believe the space in here.’
Leslie looked up again towards Elizabeth. She was suspended in the glass, as still as a portrait. Her eyes were glazed. She was a study in inertia. ‘What have you done to her?’ he asked, with broken glass in his voice.
‘Oh just a few minor modifications,’ replied Sebastian with studied nonchalance. ‘It’s amazing how compliant minds become below about I.Q. 80 – if they’re handled carefully.’
‘You drained her?’
‘Well of course,’ replied Sebastian, as if it was the most obvious course of action. ‘No man requires a smart wife; an obedient one is preferable. I like to operate on the old Japanese model.’
‘You’re mad,’ Leslie retorted. ‘That machine’s driven you crazy.’
‘Am I?’ asked Sebastian, with a slight upturning to one side of his upper lip. ‘Am I mad to dumb-down this scheming woman? Am I mad to curb this Lady Macbeth?’
‘Elizabeth Dawson is no such thing,’ replied Leslie.
‘Ah the folly of the human heart,’ Sebastian replied, lounging as comfortably as he could upon his metal throne. ‘After everything she’s done, you still love her. How quaint.’
‘She’s done nothing wrong except be taken in by you, you . . . what did you call him, Damien?’
‘Rasputin,’ added Damien from the rear.
Sebastian laughed loudly at this. He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye for theatrical effect. ‘Well, there’s certainly some truth in that. I do have a way with the fairer sex - my father always said so. But as for President Dawson, you really have no idea do you? None of you. No, boy, she’s done nothing wrong,’ he stood up and looked up towards Elizabeth who was still radiantly beautiful but noticeably inactive in the console room, ‘nothing wrong except to steal and hide Colin Dunnett’s green book of ideas you so badly sought; nothing wrong except take that book and hide it here in this library for me to find; nothing wrong but play you and your gangly friend here,’ he pointed to Damien, ‘against one another in the game of love, whilst simultaneously using you both to dream up and engineer designs to consolidate her power; and nothing wrong but poison your father with arsenic, young man,’ he pointed at Edgar, ‘to make sure that no other consul could share in that power and to make herself, effectively, dictator of Corporate City.’
‘You’re a liar!’ howled Edgar, stepping forward a pace.
‘Careful, son,’ Sebastian replied, ‘I’m not sure of my own strength yet.’
‘You are lying,’ Leslie added. ‘Why would Elizabeth steal the book and give it to you?’
‘My God. You’re so naïve.’ Sebastian shook his head and then pointed an accusatory finger up towards Elizabeth in the room above. ‘She was no shrinking violet. While you had the chance, rather than ogling over her beauty, you should have asked her about the raids and massacres she’s perpetrated upon the few maverick communities in the mountains over the past six years; or about the burning down of old homesteads where any such splinter groups might shelter. The woman was a beautiful monster. She was an expert at removing obstacles. She’s had hundreds of people executed over the past few years and she was about to do it again. She was about to begin an anti-Christian campaign to clean them out of the scrapers. That’s why she made up those video tapes you saw at the beginning of your term in office.’
‘Rubbish,’ interjected Leslie, ‘we saw Colin Dunnett.’
‘Yes, that was real, but the rest was nonsense. She was about to wage a war against the lobby groups who threatened her absolute power. The Christians were her biggest threat. Their numbers have grown and many in the scrapers now profess Christianity. What better way to get at them than to convince her new consuls of the danger they represented to the welfare of the state? Or should I say, the danger they represented to Elizabeth Dawson. She poisoned her other consul to keep him out of the way while she made her plans. Then she played you and this boy off against one another,’ he pointed to Damien, ‘and had you both scheme up designs to make her look good whilst keeping you out of the way, while she began her attempted manipulation of me. But I outfoxed her. You should be thanking me. I used you to bring her down.’
‘Why you?’ asked Leslie, who was reluctantly growing to see the merit in Sebastian’s argument.
‘She buried the book here in the library because she’d read the blueprints and she knew that there was something important hidden somewhere nearby. I guess she figured if anyone would know about it, I would. As it turns out I didn’t, until I unscrambled the encrypted message for the map. Then she needed you to get it working, which you did. But you see I no longer need you. I no longer need anyone. Now I’m so brilliant I’m the only person worthy of running this city.’
‘Why drain Elizabeth’s intelligence?’ pursued Leslie.
‘She was an immediate threat to my takeover. That and I prefer her as she was.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Damien.
‘I knew her once upon a time. I knew you too, Damien.’
Damien’s cheeks had blanched.
‘I see that you’re beginning to recall.’ Sebastian laughed. ‘As I told you, I’m not Sebastian Levi. She, like you, Damien, didn’t recognise me after all those years.’
‘If you’re not Sebastian Levi, then who are you?’ asked Leslie.
‘My name is Sebastian but it’s not Sebastian Levi. You have to take the S and scramble the Levi and you get . . .’
‘Viles,’ stammered Damien, ‘Sebastian Viles.’
‘Very good,’ replied Viles with a nasty smile.
‘That’s what I remember. That day over at Elizabeth’s apartment - all those years ago - you were there.’
‘What a memory you have,’ mocked Viles.
‘You were there. You were older than us. Something happened that day.’
‘Go on, Oedipus. Reveal the awful truth.’ Viles’ eyes gleamed with mischief.
‘You . . . touched her.’
‘I always did have a hold on her – emotionally.’
‘I remember now.’ Damien was stunned at his own revelation. He stared at Viles uncomprehendingly. ‘I’d buried the memory away, until now.’
‘Yes and so did she for a time, but when her influential father found out about it a few years later he had me incarcerated for ten years. I was lucky – the old man had more compassion than his daughter. If Elizabeth had been in charge I’d have been executed for sure. When I finally emerged I took on another persona and I ended up in this foul library dredging through the dregs of history, rather than running this city as my father had done and as I should have continued to do.’
‘She was only a little girl,’ whispered Damien.
‘I was only a boy myself.’
‘You were old enough to know better.’
‘She was as beautiful then as she is now – more so. She wanted it too. She kissed me back. I used to visit her regularly. She loved me then and she loved me still when I kissed her again over twenty years later.’
‘You can’t justify that, you prick!’ shouted Johannes, levelling the rifle directly at Viles’ chest. ‘Now, what have you done with my family?’
‘They’re dead!’ Viles screamed with the sudden snarl of the lion and before Johannes could pull the trigger Viles held out his arm with his palm flat, as if he meant Johannes to stop. But as he did, a shock wave of some sort emanated from his hand and Johannes was blasted with a whiplash crack back up against the wall. He dropped the rifle. Viles looked at his hand momentarily, surprised at its new-found power, then he turned it back towards Johannes and raised it upward. Johannes’ unconscious body rose up the wall as if roughly picked up by some invisible pair of hands. There he hung suspended for a short while until Viles twisted and clicked his fingers abruptly as if twisting an invisible chicken neck. With an audible ‘Crack!’ Johannes’ head was thrown to one side and his neck snapped clean. His head dropped well below the line of his shoulders. Viles’ dropped his hand and down dropped Johannes’ body against the wall; a crumpled and dead thing. Viles looked at his hand once again. His eyes were wide with fascination and excitement.
Involuntarily, Leslie, Edgar and Damien stepped away from the madman and his supernatural display. They were wide-eyed and speechless. Viles thought this amusing.
‘For the times they are a changin’, boys,’ he said with a sneer. He looked at his hand, enamoured with his new-found powers. ‘Soon Corporate City will overflow with the riches that will come from sales of my invention.’
‘Your invention?’ uttered Leslie.
‘Well, I know it was Dunnett’s invention and you know it was Dunnett’s invention, but history is a matter of opinion, son,’ Viles replied, ‘and it’s my opinion that counts on this occasion. My transference units will change the social structure of every city that embraces them.’
‘What are you going to do with us?’ asked Damien, quietly eyeing and assessing this empowered lunatic.
‘Throw you in gaol until I think of some novel way of disposing of you. But I don’t want you all to die just yet. I want you to see the beginnings of my empire before you check out.’ He yelled loudly up towards Elizabeth, ‘Get down here!’ And her face immediately disappeared from the window above. ‘You see, I have such plans. And I’d like you to see how they’re progressing in a few years time before I’m rid of you.’
Elizabeth entered the room with a vacuous smile. She was as beautiful as ever, but her usually sparkling eyes were somehow duller; less cast out into the world. She took up her place beside Viles.
‘Ah, here she is,’ Viles said loudly, kissing her upon the forehead. ‘Can you see it?’ he asked.
‘See what?’ asked Leslie.
‘Why, the baby bump of course. My darling Elizabeth is with child, aren’t you, my dear?’
Elizabeth smiled and nestled in, under Viles’ arm.
‘Yes, he continued, ‘we’re going to have a little baby-Viles and the Viles are going to rule this city for a long time to come - and possibly even other cities too, given time.’
Several large men arrived at the door. ‘Ah, it’s about time,’ said Viles. Take these men away.’
‘We’ll beat you,’ whispered Leslie, as the guards pinned back his arms.
‘One day,’ added Edgar, ‘one day we’ll win.’
‘No you won’t,’ replied Viles.
And Leslie, Damien and Edgar were roughly bundled from the room.
MONTAGE
Leslie sits upon straw in a dark cell. One small embrasure lets in a single shaft of light upon his face.
Viles works at his desk in his apartment. Behind him the harbour can be seen. In the foreground his son, now a toddler, is trying to walk towards Elizabeth. She smiles with maternal joy.
In quick succession, JUMP CUTS of metal caps and I.Q. transfers. Some walk out rejuvenated; others blank behind the eyes.
In the streets of Corporate City electric motor scooters are in abundance.
Many small yellow electric cars can also be seen.
In the gambling casinos people in rags sit at a seemingly endless line of I.Q. gambling machines.
Viles hands some blueprints to an engineer who nods and exits. We see a maze under construction. Metal thrusts up from below ground level in a variety of dancing slats.
A seething throng of people sit in a large arena around one of those mazes. There is great excitement as one man in rags dodges into the maze and appears at another point to shoot another. Viles claps his hand and laughs. Beside him Elizabeth and their boy, now about seven, laugh and applaud.
At the mouth of the harbour a giant structure is being constructed. It spans from head to head. On either side of it and stretching out north and south is a giant metal wall, also under construction.
Edgar sees Damien and Leslie in the exercise yard. All three are emaciated and weak. Leslie nods down towards the harbour. Edgar follows the line of his nod. He watches as a large container ship enters the harbour.
*
Leslie, Edgar and Damien were thrown into a room by a bunch of hairy-knuckled guards. They each collected themselves from the floor and found their way towards the window. They looked down.
Edgar nodded towards the harbour’s heads. A huge metal structure spanned from north to south across the mouth separating the harbour itself from the great ocean beyond. It was a massive coil of rolled up steel; a huge cylinder hanging heavily above the two outcrops of land. Extending from it in both directions was a great wall, stories high. Hundreds upon hundreds of workers were dotted in and around it. It seemed to be growing as the men watched on.
Inside the harbour, a large container ship loaded cargo. The great ship bore the Union Jack and proclaimed the vessel: ‘The British Lion’. In the foreground, and immediately beneath the trio, was a large area of dirt, curiously scarred by straight lines - some running parallel, others at right angles to these. Looking down on this dirt arena from the side where the men were, was a gentle grass hill with seating carved into it. On the other three sides were makeshift trestles and seats, tiered around.
The three men were too weak to embrace one another. They were ragged and wretched but they still managed to raise their arms around each other’s shoulders. As one defiant unit they stared, their eyes blinking under the brightness of the summer day. Silently, they gazed out across the vista.
Viles entered. He was visibly older and he had grown more portly in his middle age. His face was more jowly and his stomach more rotund. But the same dark-eyes were there, locked behind his glasses.
‘Sit,’ he ordered. And the three men did so, without a qualm.
‘Aha,’ said Viles as he sat beside the window, ‘obedience born of deprivation and routine. You’re all institutionalised.’
None of the men contested this. None of them was in a position to contest anything.
‘You’ve no doubt noticed the wall?’ Viles enquired, as he scribbled something down upon a pad of paper. ‘It will soon encompass the entire city. When it’s completed no one will get in, or out, without my consent. You’ll also be interested to know that the few mavericks in the mountains are no more. Napalm is such a simple but effective cleanser.’