that now she’s dumped you and disappeared?’
Marcus almost defended her, but now he had to say the words out loud, even he wasn’t so sure. Had she been using him the whole time? Had she never felt anything for him? ‘What was in the cylinder?’
Austin dodged the issue. ‘More importantly, where is she now and what’s her next move? I’m sure she’ll come back, and when she does we need to be ready for her, Alexander, and the whole Institution, if it comes to that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The Institution are spreading rumours that we’re the cause of the food shortages. People are starting to believe their lies and if we don’t do something to stop the momentum, who knows where this whole sorry business could end up.’
‘Well what if they have a point?’ said Marcus, without giving adequate thought to the words escaping his mouth. ‘What if it is all to do with the energy, and it could all be solved if we found a way to send the relic back?’
Austin’s fury was plain to see. His jaw was set, his eyes cold, his brow furrowed. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you’re truly my son,’ he said venomously. ‘Firstly, this is not to do with the energy, there is simply no conclusive proof. Secondly, even if we wanted to send the relic back, it’s impossible, the Body bloodline is broken; the prophecy is dead.’
‘What’s causing the shortages then?’ he snapped back, unwilling to roll over easily with the sting of his father’s cruel words fresh in his ears.
‘We’ve just had a bad year, that’s all. Next year we’ll be back to the bumper harvests we’re used to.’
‘And the fish stocks? And dead birds that seem to be falling out of the sky?’
‘All part of the same problem. Bad weather effecting their food supplies.’
Marcus didn’t argue any further. Austin wasn’t paying any attention to the actual argument, instead using standard, rehearsed responses that slid effortlessly off his tongue. ‘So what do you suggest we do then? Nothing? Sit back and let people starve whilst we carry on as normal?’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic; it’s really not that bad. People won’t starve as the result of one bad year, it will take much longer than that before people really feel the impact on their lives. And by the time they do, we’ll be into another year and the crop yields will have returned to normal. What we really need to do is be patient, and most importantly deal with the Institution, before they can stir up enough of a movement behind their lies to cause us real problems.’
‘And how do you suggest we do that?’
‘I don’t yet know, but Anita is at the centre of this somehow, so I suggest we start with her.’
*****
Anita and Alexander left the farm without telling anyone they were going, walking the several miles back to Empire in relative silence. They walked without touching, each agonising over what Helena had told them, Anita thinking about her parent’s brutal deaths, and Alexander contemplating his parents’ own demise.
They headed for Cleo’s, needing to go back over all they’d recently learned and deciding Cleo was the person most likely to ask the most probing questions and pick the most effective holes in what Helena had told them, not to mention she was one of the very few people they both agreed they could trust. They reached Cleo’s in what seemed like no time at all, Anita not sure she knew how they had got there. Alexander rang the bell then pulled Anita to him, kissing her forehead before Cleo threw the door open and hastily ushered them inside.
Cleo was much more subdued than normal. She gave Anita a welcoming hug then showed them in to her vast, open plan living space where Bas was already lounging on one of Cleo’s enormous white sofas. Cleo lived in a converted warehouse next to The Island, the space a towering loft full of old industrial paraphernalia converted masterfully into
Marcus almost defended her, but now he had to say the words out loud, even he wasn’t so sure. Had she been using him the whole time? Had she never felt anything for him? ‘What was in the cylinder?’
Austin dodged the issue. ‘More importantly, where is she now and what’s her next move? I’m sure she’ll come back, and when she does we need to be ready for her, Alexander, and the whole Institution, if it comes to that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The Institution are spreading rumours that we’re the cause of the food shortages. People are starting to believe their lies and if we don’t do something to stop the momentum, who knows where this whole sorry business could end up.’
‘Well what if they have a point?’ said Marcus, without giving adequate thought to the words escaping his mouth. ‘What if it is all to do with the energy, and it could all be solved if we found a way to send the relic back?’
Austin’s fury was plain to see. His jaw was set, his eyes cold, his brow furrowed. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you’re truly my son,’ he said venomously. ‘Firstly, this is not to do with the energy, there is simply no conclusive proof. Secondly, even if we wanted to send the relic back, it’s impossible, the Body bloodline is broken; the prophecy is dead.’
‘What’s causing the shortages then?’ he snapped back, unwilling to roll over easily with the sting of his father’s cruel words fresh in his ears.
‘We’ve just had a bad year, that’s all. Next year we’ll be back to the bumper harvests we’re used to.’
‘And the fish stocks? And dead birds that seem to be falling out of the sky?’
‘All part of the same problem. Bad weather effecting their food supplies.’
Marcus didn’t argue any further. Austin wasn’t paying any attention to the actual argument, instead using standard, rehearsed responses that slid effortlessly off his tongue. ‘So what do you suggest we do then? Nothing? Sit back and let people starve whilst we carry on as normal?’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic; it’s really not that bad. People won’t starve as the result of one bad year, it will take much longer than that before people really feel the impact on their lives. And by the time they do, we’ll be into another year and the crop yields will have returned to normal. What we really need to do is be patient, and most importantly deal with the Institution, before they can stir up enough of a movement behind their lies to cause us real problems.’
‘And how do you suggest we do that?’
‘I don’t yet know, but Anita is at the centre of this somehow, so I suggest we start with her.’
*****
Anita and Alexander left the farm without telling anyone they were going, walking the several miles back to Empire in relative silence. They walked without touching, each agonising over what Helena had told them, Anita thinking about her parent’s brutal deaths, and Alexander contemplating his parents’ own demise.
They headed for Cleo’s, needing to go back over all they’d recently learned and deciding Cleo was the person most likely to ask the most probing questions and pick the most effective holes in what Helena had told them, not to mention she was one of the very few people they both agreed they could trust. They reached Cleo’s in what seemed like no time at all, Anita not sure she knew how they had got there. Alexander rang the bell then pulled Anita to him, kissing her forehead before Cleo threw the door open and hastily ushered them inside.
Cleo was much more subdued than normal. She gave Anita a welcoming hug then showed them in to her vast, open plan living space where Bas was already lounging on one of Cleo’s enormous white sofas. Cleo lived in a converted warehouse next to The Island, the space a towering loft full of old industrial paraphernalia converted masterfully into
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