The Yeoman: Crying Albion Series - Book 1 (6 page)

The next section was
the demographics and immigration report. The Yeomanry Colonels took a lot of
stick from the media and most government parties for their immigration and
repatriation policy. The general ignorance of most Britons meant they bought
into whatever the newspapers told them in print, and whatever they heard their
favorite politician ramble on about. Here though, the MI6 agent once again
seemed to vindicate the Yeomanry’s declaration. Immigration from Britain was strict
for non-Europeans. They had to show essential skills not present in Albion. This
was not a right to permanent residency either. The labor departments were
striving towards self-sufficiency when it came to skilled workers that were
home-grown.

Since the Colonels War
ten years ago most of the foreign folks not of European origin had left. Many
had voluntarily left with their families, many of these taking the repatriation
bonus. Those few hundred that remained were tolerated, ignored and shunned for
the most part. Meanwhile the flood of foreigners already in Britain was poised
to increase to a tsunami if the Prime Speaker’s government had their way.

Thinking of this gave
Athered
pause for concern, but he read on, putting such
fears to the back of his mind.

When it came to crime
and punishment the figures and estimations were startling. Far from the soft
and caring ways of the Crown Prosecution Service the tough-love approach in
Albion was driving down crime. Hanging for capital crimes had been reinstated, along
with corporal punishment for underage offenses. Hard labor for non-capital
crimes was common, very often this constituted primitive farming and mine
reactivation.

One of the big public
works programs reinstated by the Yeomanry was mining. During the Thatcherite-era
nearly all the coal mines of north-east England had been closed down. Although reasons
like efficiency, economy and ‘competition’ with overseas nations were given as
a reason the Colonels argued there was more to it than that. The closures were
part of a secret agreement to disinherit the working class people. Wages and
job security had always been high for miners until the closures. After this
suicide and alcoholism had been a scourge.
Athered
read how already one major mine had been painstakingly reactivated using a
prison labor-force. The work had been dangerous and grueling but in some cases
former convicts were granted a parole and even a pardon.

Unemployment, which
had reached historic highs during previous decades was now incredibly low. Wise
reckoned that the Colonels were being economical with the truth, yet even he
acknowledged that the Yeomanry’s oversight of Albion was paying dividends. The
rest of the dossier read in a similar fashion. Overall, the Yeomanry and their
populace of the fledgling nation of Albion were seeing the start of a paradigm
shift. Perhaps even the dawn of a golden age.

“Small wonder there’s
such a propaganda war and opposition to the Yeomanry, they have turned their
part of the country around compared to the stagnation here!”
Athered
exclaimed.

“What is it?” his
girlfriend said, startled by his sudden announcement.

“The truth! We’ve been
lied to about Albion, about the Yeomanry. Here take a look, only you must
promise not to tell of it to anyone.”

Natalya understood
English to a high standard and agreed to keep it too herself. Her blue eyes
widened and she made several gasps and looks in surprise at him as she read the
dossier.

“Why do they lie to us
here? In my country there is not this level of deception?”

“Natalya, all
governments lie sometimes, for the better and the worse. Perhaps our one here
is doing it much more though. They don’t want us to know the evil they plan. We’d
either rise up in order to change Britain to the Albion model or rush to emigrate
there.”

“Can you not tell the
people Brian?”

“Not like this, it
would be traced back to me in a heartbeat. No, when the time is right we must
try and give this to the Yeomanry, they’d know who the trader is, or at least
have a good idea from all this data.”

“If we do that we’d be
outlaws? I’ve still another two years at the university,” Natalya said with a
worried voice.

“Albion has
universities too, they’ve just re-opened one in York. We can’t move yet anyway,
I can do more good from within the walls of the Ministry than outside it. It
sound’s crazy but I’ve a feeling we have to bide our time.”

“What do you mean?”
she asked in a sultry manner.

“I’m in the middle of
a big case, there’s a Yeomanry spy-ring in London. Maybe I can help the
Yeomanry from the inside, don’t ask me how, I’ll have to figure out a way.”

“I never took you to
be a double agent
Mr
Athered
,”
his coy blonde woman said with a deeper tone. Her bright eyes enticed him.

“I never thought you’d
be one to be my sidekick either Miss
Anyanova
,” he
said softly, drawing her lovely face towards his.

Chapter
4

Apostates

The college of
Warminster was much changed since the founding days of old. Apart from the
ancient castle of Warwick newer, more efficient yet ugly buildings took the
place of many older, more traditional ones. The influx of multicultural
students was also a gradual process and the college was no exception.

Valerie Beaumont sighed as another lecture
began. Unlike the ones she had signed up for two years ago the new ones were not
what she’d had in mind. Her classes included compulsory subjects in ‘Universal
Tolerance’ and ‘End of European Traditions’. The tall sandy-haired girl sat in
the lecture hall crowded with other students. The smells and noises of foreign
foods and language rustled and floated about as the lecturer rambled on and on.
For her the novelty-factor of it was fading fast, as if to reinforce her
feelings the next sub-title on the projector ‘The evils of European colonialism’
flashed up on the screen.

Valerie texted an emoticon of rolling her
eyes to her friend. Her classmate, Nicola
Woodvine
,
smiled and responded with a
a
message about how ‘terrible’
it was such benefits were shared with others.

Another page came on the projector screen,
it was from a leftish-acclaimed book demonizing the royalties of old. The Romanov
Tsar’s where portrayed as an out-of-touch group of white supremacists who
looked down on the poorer classes within their realm.

Valerie raised her hand and the lecturer
paused to take a question.

“Tutor, I agree the early Tsar’s of Russia
did some questionable things, but didn’t Tsar Nicholas the second and his
forebears enact beneficial changes to the Russian people?”

“Absolutely not! The people overthrew his
kind after they’d had enough of the Tsar’s absolute monarchy! They wished for
liberation and the glory of communism.”

“Tutor, did not the Romanov dynasty abdicate
to pass on power?”

“Of course not! It had to be taken by the
proletariat!”

“I’ve heard it said that the people who
overthrew him were a revolutionary minority who misled the people to advance
their own interests?” the girl stated.

“Absolute nonsense! Communism is a force for
good as you will soon learn.”

“But sir, they savagely murdered an innocent
royal family most brutally, with no cause and it triggered a violent civil
war.”

“Well, these things happen, world war two
which followed was much worse too.”

Nicola
Woodvine
raised her hand and the lecturer nodded.

“Miss
Woodvine
.”

“Was that war not indirectly triggered by
agitation and Communism threatening central and western Europe though sir?”

“Of course not, the Nazi party wished to
take over the world. I’d have thought you’d learned this at secondary school.
Now please, be quiet, that’s enough questions asked!”

Soon afterwards the lecturer began showing
his Bolshevik
heros
of the USSR in an almost ecstatic
fashion. This was followed by the communist takeover of China and Vietnam. Both
girls weren’t even taking notes now nor were many others. The grades in such
politically-correct subjects weren’t joined with the others though, but a
rumor
had it that the
next college year would see it so.

For the younger ones in primary and
secondary school the draconian ways of enforced multiculturalism were already
in place. Parents who home-schooled their children to side-step this ran the
risk of a random visit from the Social Services Authority. While it did not
result in arrest and child-stealing, all it took was the wrong word, gesture or
intention for a mandatory schooling-order to be sent through the post. Failing
to heed this would see the SSA return once again, but this time with enforcers
backing them up. Holding a guardianship warrant the SSA could effectively seize
the children in a state-sanctioned abduction. They’d be schooled in a location
far from the area the parents were in.

So far the guardianship warrants were seldom
deployed and when they were, only with those they deemed the ‘worst’ offenders.
For the children of home-schoolers forced ‘familiarization’ sessions with
groups of foreign children in the inner-cities was commonplace.

Two hours later the
lecture was over and more than a few students couldn’t wait to leave. Beaumont
and
Woodvine
, along with a few others were kindred
spirits in a maelstrom of liberal confusion and emotion.

Omar Jordan wasn't far away and re-checked
his phone and viewed the picture he’d been sent. A name was below it, along
with the target's class schedule but he already knew who she was. As he and his
friend watched the leggy blonde leave the lecture hall with Nicola
Woodvine
he smiled with the thrill of the chase. He’d been
in England for two years and felt aggressively confident. His parents were
first generation asylum-seekers from southern Iraq. His best friend was Jesse
Young an Afro-English boy of mixed parentage and somewhat in the shadow of
Omar. Both were dark-skinned and above-average when it came to intelligence but
it was Omar who was the leader. He had that edge in fast-maturity over boys a
similar age and was handy with his fists. He viewed the willowy blonde girl as
a personal challenge. The other boys at the college tended to be emo-style
wimps or academic bookworms, making competition for him quite mild. So far he’d
had his way with other girls but a blonde one, even a dishwater blonde, would
mark new meat for his sexual appetite The fact he was being assigned potential
troublemakers to punish made his job even more appealing.

At the communal locker area he made his
move.

“So what are you up to after classes Val?”
Omar said, moving in close to her, invading her personal space a touch.

“Nothing much, why?” she said neutrally,
taking half a step back.

“Well maybe you and me could go out on a
date?” he said with a hint of aggression to his deep accent. The brown eyes
seemed to show a masculine nature some would have been intrigued by. Valerie
Beaumont was, unlike most others at the college both conservative and
pro-White.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t date outside of my
race.” Valerie said quietly with the hint of dignity. She turned back to her
locker. In the second before the iron-clad rejection sank in Valerie knew she’d
crossed a line.

“You what? That’s fuckin’ racist!” the youth
slammed the palm of his hand into the locker next to hers. The loud bang rang
through the area and several others stopped what they were doing.

Nicola turned and joined her friend. “Why’s
it racist? Because your feelings are hurt?” the brunette said.

“I wasn’t talking to you bitch!” Omar
grumbled.

“Yeah well just to save you the time I won’t
date you or your mate either,” Nicola added.

“Come on Omar,” Jesse Young said, knowing
when they weren’t getting anywhere. “We can do it another way,” Young added quietly
as the two left the area.

“That told him,” Valerie said somewhat
haughtily. “If only more girls took a stand they wouldn’t be bullied by the
Omar folks.”

“You want to be careful Val, I’ve heard he
is bad news. His dad is supposed to be well connected.”

“I can deal with trash like that
Nikky
. My grandparents fled Russia to get away from bullies
and they always taught me to stand up to them. The ones that don’t stand up end
up getting shot or
gulaged
!” the girl said
emotionally before calming again. The area had gone quiet though. “We ought to
report this
Nikky
.”

“I don’t know, if we do things could turn
out bad for us,” her friend warned.

“What do you mean? He insulted us both, that
was harassment, bullying even.”

Nicola sighed and took a deep breath. “The
College Code has a big section on equal opportunities and racial
discrimination.”

“What’s that got to do with us? He’s the one
who pestered me.”

“I know but my parents have warned me about
the Omar types. Anything to do with race and you’re not foreign like they are, they
get the benefit of the doubt.”

“Why did you defend me if you knew this?”
Valerie said in a moment of frustration.

“I don’t like seeing my friends bullied,
especially by that swine,” Nicola said with a glint of warmth in her hazel eyes.

After lunch-break
the afternoon subjects for both girls were in separate subjects. Valerie’s was
in philosophy with Miss Grimes as Tutor. Barely ten minutes had elapsed before
the door opened. The head tutor, Mr Gladstone, entered and spoke with the class
tutor, then left the room as quickly as he’d entered it. Mark Gladstone was
someone who gave her the creeps. He was overweight, short and seemed to be
always scrutinizing with the beady, narrow-set eyes of his. Miss Grimes called
out Valerie’s name.

“Mr Gladstone would like to speak with you
in his office,” her tutor said politely.

Valerie got up and wondered if her friend
had complained about Omar’s behaviour. On leaving the class Gladstone was
outside and walked with her barely saying a word. On turning right at the
corridor to approach the Head Tutor’s office her heart and stomach felt
wrenched. Stood against the wall outside was Omar and his friend Jesse. The
looked impassive for the most part but a smug look on Omar’s features created
an air of apprehension about Valerie.

She had never been in trouble at school,
outside of the usual minor mischief. Without acknowledging the two students Gladstone
opened the door and let Valerie enter his office.

A uniformed Land Ministry Policeman stood
waiting inside. A pair of chairs opposite the tutor’s desk was vacant. Valerie
was in a state of bewilderment, what was a policeman doing in the office?

“Please take a seat Miss
Beauford
.”

She did so.

“Mr Jordan has put in a formal complaint
against you.”

“A complaint?” the teenager said in
disbelief. It was like a distant bombshell had gone off within her head.

“He tells me you racially insulted him?”

“He asked me on a date and I told him no.
Then he became abusive and insulted me and
Nikky
.”

The policeman pulled out his notebook and
checked the details.

“So you didn’t cause distress to him by
using racial or prejudicial language?” Constable
Jeneston
said.

A part of Valerie knew she was in a trap and
implored her to be silent or evasive, yet another part conceded that
explanation and understanding was key.

“I said ‘I’m sorry but I don’t date outside
of my race,” the girl said truthfully. “I didn’t know saying a personal stance
was offensive?” A moment of pause occurred, then the uniformed man noted down
some words and showed it to Gladstone.

“Excuse us for a moment,” the Chief Tutor
said and both he and the constable left the room.

A thousand and one thoughts went through her
and with nervous hands she fished out her smart phone from her cardigan pocket.

‘Being interviewed by Gladstone! Ministry Police
r here!’ she rapidly keyed before sending it to
Nikky
.

As she waited for a response a feeling of
oppression gripped her. It was like some hidden entity or spirit seemed to be
hounding her. Did she make this happen? Was it her fault? She didn’t have to
say the race word.

Then another voice seemed to sound from
inside her. It was her father, the father she’d known before her teenage years,
the one who’d been slain as an officer in the oil wars.

‘Stay
strong, give ground but do not give in!’

This gave her some fortitude, although the
doubting thoughts seemed to swim around her like predatory sharks.

The door opened again after about five
minutes of this, only Gladstone entered, giving her some relief.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

She shrugged with an air of tense
apprehension.

“Mr Jordan and his friend wanted to press
charges against you,” the short little man spoke slowly and with a solemn way
about him, “but the Ministry Policeman and I agreed to a compromise.”

‘Don’t tell me I have to go on a date with
the slimy creep?’ she thought anxiously.

“You are to publicly apologize, in front of
the entire college to Omar and his friend about your disgraceful behaviour.”

Valerie felt a deep sense of embarrassment,
it was enough for her that she was private about her views without it being
common knowledge.

“Can’t I just apologize privately? In the
corridor or office?” she countered meekly.

“In view of the seriousness of what you did
that is not appropriate.”