The Relic Keeper (32 page)

“Deon, he’s a useless shit.”

“He’s worthless. A waste.”

“He betrayed his friends.”

“Judas.”

Deon looked around the room but saw no one. However, by the blankets to the side of the room was the small reliquary. He turned it over in his hand. Maybe now was the time to ask it to share its mysteries and answer his questions.

The voices carried on:

“Deon, you know what you need to do. You must die.”

Mathew had nearly reached the Prince William before he even thought to contact Rei to tell her he was on his way. His mind was racing with the events of the evening. If he’d been unsure of what to expect from meeting Jessica, he’d certainly never entertained the discussion they’d just had. He was angry, and hurt, and felt ashamed at what he’d put her and Paula through. He pushed through the rain, his heart beating hard and irregularly, although he hardly noticed either that nor the weather. He barely acknowledged the stranger who helped him when he slipped in the rain. He activated the c-pac from his thumb and linked it to Rei and Philip’s, saying nothing more than he was on his way back. He switched the machine off, and watched for a second as a pair of lights travelled down the street towards him. The vehicle they were attached to slowed down as it approached, although Mathew took no notice. He looked out to the dark blackness of the sea, illuminated only by the occasional flash of lightning.

As he stood there thinking of everything and nothing he became vaguely aware of something pulsing at his side. He looked at the c-pac flashing on his hand and activated it to allow the incoming message. It was Philip.

“Mathew, we can’t stay here. Contact me as soon as this message is received. I’ve had a message from Deon and it looks like Warwick may have worked out where you are. As soon as….” The machine was switched off in mid flow by a gloved hand. Mathew hadn’t even heard Warwick approach him. He looked him straight in the face, the rain dripping down his heavy features.

“So. I suppose you’ve come to get rid of me permanently this time then?”

“Mr Lyal, I have not come down to the backwaters of Britain to kill you. If that was my intention I would simply have sent someone.”

“Why are you here then?”

“To find out what you are intending, or expecting, to do.”

“Then stop me?”

“Then discuss it Mr Lyal. I really am not some twentieth century gangster with a devious plan and a gun in my pocket.” He paused and waited for Mathew to speak. The wind was high now and grey clouds were being blown piteously across the Devonshire night sky. “Well, what are you intending to do?”

“I’m going to get out of Britain, and then I don’t know. But you can threaten me, or kill me for it. I don’t care. I’m past caring. I can cause trouble for you and I don’t care about the consequences, because I’m already dead, and I have nothing left here to lose.”

“Indeed you do not; and as for causing trouble for me. I have money and influence, and so anything you say can be unsaid. Any proof of misconduct can be refuted. You are a man who has been through a terrible ordeal, people will pity you, but they won’t rally to your side. And first you would have to prove that you are who you say are. Which would be harder than you think; especially considering that you have been certified dead twice now!

“But there is one thing more for you to consider. You are ill. Your original heart problem has been treated, but not cured. And the plethora of complications of your renaissance is beyond the abilities of most doctors; and I fear beyond the financial abilities of you or your friends. Have you noticed the tiredness and fatigue drawing in on you? Chest pains as well I would have expected. Probably confusion. Flashbacks? Mr Lyal, you are a severely sick man, and not in an ideal state to travel. I can not tell you your life expectancy, but it may be weeks, or days. You have over-exerted yourself and lived several days with little or no medication whatsoever. I can offer to prolong your life, temporarily, and only if I choose to. But travel is not recommended. And to where? Where would you be welcome? The countries of Europe have problems enough without you throwing yourself at their mercy. Japan? Well possibly. But how do you get there? What will you do when you arrive? How do you support yourself? You have nothing to offer this world except a glimpse of the last century’s banality. I’m afraid that you will have to accept that today you are nothing more than a member of a freak show. People are interested in what you are, not who you are. They will come and stare at you, and then leave and forget you. Your only place in this world is as an outsider. My apologies if this sounds harsh, but it is true.

“So you have your choices. To come with me and live out the last of your few days under my attention, where I can learn from your condition; or to run, and die like some hunted animal or a road kill. I can assure you it is not my intention to kill you, while you are in my care, but I really can’t have you living in the outside world and talking to whomsoever you choose.”

“And what if I choose neither? I don’t want to be prey
or
a lab rat. I’ve fucked things up, but I want a little piece of dignity. Or is that too much to ask in your fucked up world?”

“Please remember that our world of today is only that which was created out of the past; your own world. You are an angry man; but your anger is at yourself and the choices of your peers. Your generation, like so many before has failed to achieve what they wished. You, Mr Lyal, are the first man in history to have seen that come to pass first hand as a relatively young man, and to have seen the long-term consequences of your failures without the passage of time to cloud your view. And your arrogance has come back to claim its price in your present predicament.

“So if your choice is the highly brave and noble position of choosing personal freedom over more sensible and practical alternatives – which is so typical of your time with its propensity to apathy – then how do you intend to carry out this stance?”

Mathew felt the chill of the wind on his face blowing the tears that were starting to fall. Yes, he was tired, and the pains in his chest had been getting worse. The aching in his limbs was intense and he realised that he was sorely tempted to take the choice of medication and immediate relief from the pain. But to what ends? Warwick was right in his own sarcastic and supercilious manner. What use was he to this world? All the people he had loved were dead. Paula hadn’t waited for him, and why should she? How long would he have waited for her he wondered: A couple of years? A decade? And why should he have expected his daughter to greet him with open arms and a forgiving heart. He had been an absent father, no less than his own, and although the cause may have differed, the results were the same. So it was time to decide which of the unwelcome choices he would take in this hostile world.

To one side a light flickered on and a figure was momentarily visible over Warwick’s shoulder. Even in the darkness the gait of Philip was unmistakable. He was walking across the path carrying a flashlight, which lit spots of wet ground in front of him. The beam raced up the path and stopped on Mathew’s face. Warwick turned slowly and deliberately towards the source of the light.

“I would seriously recommend that you leave now if you ever want to work in journalism again,” Warwick said through gritted teeth.

“Mathew, we have to go now. I don’t know what this prick’s said, but your only chance is to get away from here.” Philip stood still for a moment, but when no one else moved he marched purposefully up to Mathew, using his body to push the doctor out of his way.

He grabbed Mathew’s arm. “Does no one here ever make decisions but me? Mathew, come with me. You,” he turned to Warwick, “find a fucking hole and crawl into it. And I promise you that one day I’ll get a piece written on you, you slimy shit.”

“I can’t let you take Mr Lyal,” Warwick said with a certain venom in his voice.

“He’s far too valuable to me to allow you to have to him, and risk him coming into other hands. Lyal, you do know what these two will do. Neither can work. Neither has an income, and no way acquiring a living following their actions. They will sell you. They will sell you dead or alive. You are a pay cheque to them, you shouldn’t trust them.”

Mathew looked at Warwick but stumbled towards Philip, who grabbed him and led him off. Warwick lurched forward and grabbed Mathew’s other arm.

“I have all but created him. I own this man,” he cried. Philip raised his arm thrust the full force of his forearm into Warwick’s face. The doctor crumpled to the ground.

“Get the message,” Philip said standing astride the doctor with Lyal on one arm and pointing aggressively with the other hand, ignoring the pain from his swollen fingers, his eyes small and the scar on his face deep in the pale light from the torch on his belt. “This man does not belong to you, and you should get up and fuck off before I do something that you will really regret. I’m right out of patience with this whole thing, I really don’t give a rat’s fuck about you anymore, pal. So just get up and fuck off.” He wheeled around and half-led, half-dragged Mathew towards the car.

Rei’s door was still bolted.

“She must be here, there’s nowhere else to go,” said Mathew, getting agitated.

“I know, I think something bad’s happened. Step back a little.” Philip kicked the old wooden door as hard as he could twice and the lock gave way. The room was tidy but empty.

“Could she be out still?”

“Well it’s possible, but I really want to get out of this place before Warwick arranges anything else. Shit,” he stopped and looked at Mathew. “I’m sorry I didn’t even ask how it went with Jessica. You must need to stay here, or at least come back.”

Mathew shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’m about 70 years too late. You were right, I’m afraid. She didn’t want to know.”

“And Paula?”

“No,” he said, his head down and his eyes empty. “No Philip, it’s all too late. None of it mattered in the end.” He began to shake and felt Philip’s arm on his shoulder as he let the emotions of the lost decades take control.

“Come on, pal, we’ll get you out of here and out of Britain. Just hang on through the rest of today and the worst of it’s over.”

Philip’s c-pac buzzed and an audio only communication came through.

“Deon, you really pick your moments, hang on” he said angrily. He turned to Mathew, “I need to take this call, Mathew, I’ll sort the transport through Deon then we’ll find Rei and go, ok?” He raised his hand and addressed the device. “Deon are you staying in London?”

“Er, yeah, I have something that I have to do here. I need to speak to Mathew, really. Can you get him?”

“It’s not a very good time right now to be honest. Did you check on Caroline?”

“Yeah, was I doing that for you? I don’t really remember.”

“Yes, Deon, I have a hunch and I need some information. You were checking any other identities that she’s used.”

“Well, she’s a very holy person, Philip, so I’m sure that she has a critical reason for anything she does, you know. Anyway, the results don’t make sense; I think there’s a fault on the file.”

“Well, tell me anyway.”

“There are several names that have been referred to.”

“Yeah, but one in particular is one you know isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I think it’s an error.”

“Deon, she swapped records with Nasreen Freeman, hasn’t she?”

“I think that’s a mistake though, because there’s no reason for that, and Nasreen got away from the fire at Unit.”

“Ok, Deon, I think maybe that isn’t what happened. They found 179 bodies at Fort Burlington and that accounts for the entire population of the place except for two. Now we know that you were one of those, and we now know that Caroline survived, so I think we’ll have to accept that at some point she swapped identities with Nasreen .”

“But why would she do that?”

“So that people would think that she was dead, Deon.”

“But she wouldn’t do that. There’s no point. That would only make any sense if Caroline already knew that the massacre was going to happen.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Well, how would she know that the commune was going to be attacked? If she knew that she’d have stopped it wouldn’t she.”

“Deon, I think you may have to assume that this woman is, perhaps, not quite as holy and righteous as you thought.”

“No, I don’t believe that, Philip. Caroline wouldn’t do anything to her own people.” But even as he spoke the words the conversation he’d had earlier was echoing in his head. “Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know Deon. Did they take money from people at Fort Burlington?” “Well, yes, but it was kept safe.”

“And does she have money now?”

“Oh, there’s a great mission that we’re working on. I don’t know how it’s funded, but I imagine God provided for it…” He paused in thought.

“Deon? You there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking. Is Mathew there?”

“Yeah, but he’s not really up to talking at the moment.”

Mathew walked across the room to Philip. “It’s ok, mate, I can speak to him. Deon, mate, it’s me. What’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s happening, Deon?”

“I don’t know. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, Warwick came, but I think he’s gone for the moment. If we can get across the channel before he comes back we’ll be ok. He’ll need to get some more people, which will take a while, so we’ll use that and move off now. So it wasn’t a huge problem. Really.”

“Good. I don’t know what to do, Mathew.”

“About what?”

“I’m confused. Someone wants me to do something, and it seems the obvious thing to do in some ways, but not in others, you know. I’m just confused.”

“Deon, I don’t really understand what you mean, and I haven’t really got the time at the moment, but, just do what you feel is right. You don’t need to listen to other people.”

“I listen to you, because there’s something special about you, Mathew. You have returned from God and that means that you have his blessing and his word.”

“No I don’t, Deon. There’s nothing special about me. Loads of people have died and been brought back to life, you know, it’s just that I was dead a little longer. It doesn’t mean that we all have a secret to share about the meaning of life or the will of God. I haven’t been drawn to a big light; I don’t have the answers you’re looking for. Rei said something to me, you know. She said that you have to choose what to do and what not to, and what to take from each person that you meet. Take their good points, reject their bigotry. You see what I’m saying?”