THREE

From her high-rise quarters, Neeve Horncastle looked across the expanse of Newton, her eyes fixed on the news blimps slowly passing by. Hanging from the surrounding skyscrapers, huge crimson banners rippled in the breeze. The synonymous Newtonian symbol rested at their base, casting its presence over the city; an imposing design resembling a crimson ‘w’, capped by a small dash, resting perfectly within a pristine white circle.

The synthetic relay of the news blimps added to the insult of her husband’s arrest along with Rayal Jakahn’s self appointed position of Emperor. Overlaying voices became a high pitched hum - she couldn’t listen to the brainwashing anymore, her ears having become far more sensitive than any User’s.

After her husband’s detention and the state her son was left in, Neeve could barely control her anger. It had taken her all day to calm Pirian, having not left his side for one moment.

“My Dad’s a good man.”

“We know that Pirian.” assured Neeve, turning to tend his bruised face.

“I want to see him.”

“The dungeons are no place for a child.”

“I don’t care, I have to see him!”

Neeve stood up from the bed. “I know you mean no harm by upsetting your father and me, but you must listen to us Pirian. It’s for your own good.” she placed a hand to her mouth, “Just look at what’s happened to you for wandering off to the Greenhouse again. If you had not been there, Jakahn’s thug of a son wouldn’t have done this to you.”

“They’d have done it to me anyway. Greenhouse One was the only place left that I could hide from them. Now they’ve destroyed that. Destroyed Dad’s hard work, once and for all.”

“Houses can be rebuilt, even Greenhouses. Lives can’t. You should be resting; you’re lucky to be alive. If your father hadn’t been there...”

“Exactly. That’s why I have to be there for him. Tell him…tell him I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure he knows. A son should never have to apologise to his father.”

Neeve looked at her son, he reminded her so much of Jeradon. She was thankful he had at least been brought back to her in one piece, but there was still nothing to smile about. She rolled up his sleeve and injected his serum. It was the last Jeradon had concocted. Without the Greenhouse, there was no way of creating any more.

Swallowing nervously, she knew that her son would die without it. Although it certainly wasn’t the Dosage, it was a mild drug all the same; concocted from medicinal plants and herbs from the Greenhouses. Jeradon and Neeve had discovered early on that Pirian was reliant on their natural environment and the only way to prevent him slipping into a coma, or worse, was to inject him with a part of his birthplace.

Before long they were being flown low over the city by car.

Pirian was glad his mother had finally agreed in taking him to visit his father. However, he wasn’t so pleased at having to fly; his stomach turning as he attempted to take in the approaching capital. Newton was an immense place, the traffic as loud and busy as any other day. The buildings became grander the closer they flew to the centre; tall, striking monoliths bathed in sunlight, harsh shadows cast upon their ominous structure.

Eventually the car touched down at the capital of Newton where the dungeons were located at the core of the flying city. Untouched by modern design and technology, they were the oldest remaining remnants of the world below; dilapidated prison cells left to decay along with their prisoners over thousands of years. These cells, deep within the dungeon, were dark and grimy; dampness and lack of sanitation causing an unbearable stench. Newton’s belly had always been a dungeon, even before it took to the sky. Dug out of the rock, it still remained rooted to the base of the city, like a rotting core.

Torches hung every so often from the walls; several extinguished by the water and slime dripping from the ceiling, only adding to the gloom of the dank, descending tunnel. Pirian and his mother were escorted down the winding stairs by two guards who took up most of the width with their sheer bulk. Covering her shaven head, Neeve wore a pale gown, the hood resting delicately on top of a fashioned headdress, which hung down over her shoulders. Her blue eyes were dulled by the darkness of the surroundings and news of what had happened to her husband.

Holding his mother’s hand tightly, Pirian was careful not to slip on the slimy steps as they reached the bottom. Turning a corner they came to a row of caged cells. Pirian couldn’t help but look into each one as he walked by. The groans from some of the Prisoners were unsettling. There was a murmuring, as one repeatedly banged his head against the bars. The torchlight caught his eyeless face, cavernous, unblinking holes pleading for sight.

Burying his head in his mother’s dress, they walked on.

They finally stopped before a cell door and a guard proceeded to unlock it. The heavy door swung open with a rusty clank. There stood Jeradon with his back to them, hands clasped behind his back, posture like a rod of iron. Pirian expected nothing less from his father; Jeradon was holding onto something deep inside, refusing to show any signs of weakness. Jeradon hadn’t even been given the privilege of a wash after the ordeal at the Greenhouse. His coat had been removed, revealing his torn and dirty shirt; bloodied further from his lashings. If he had been mentally tortured, he certainly didn’t show it to his family.

Pirian’s mother didn’t have to say anything to the guards for them to leave. She walked into the cell with her son and the door was closed behind them, while the guards waited outside.

Jeradon continued to stand with his back to them as he began to speak. “Seems the final part of his plan has worked,” he said. Then turning round to face his wife and son, he sighed, “Things can only get worse.”

“Jeradon...?” Neeve clasped her hand to her mouth. “I don’t believe for one second that you killed Lord Surel. But please, for your son....”

“He is dead Neeve...I saw him with my own eyes…lying there, like…”

Neeve inhaled and held her breath, tears welling. “But I...” She struggled to speak, “You were there?”

“I was called to his quarters. Seems I was the last to be in his company.” he stepped forward and held his wife. “There is no point saying I did or didn’t cut his throat. I’m condemned either way. We both know that. I…we, have to protect our son. He’s all that matters.”

“What are you talking about?! Not just for your son. We all matter, we’re a family!” Neeve paused, as a cloud of doubt infected her mind. “It’s him isn’t it? He’s had it worked out all along, waiting for the right moment.” She looked down at Pirian, “And the fire, it’s all connected? They tried to kill our son as well?!”

“Dad...?” asked a concerned Pirian.

Jeradon looked down at him. “I’m sorry son, sorry for placing you in so much danger. But…we must be strong…we must be prepared for what is to come. All of this is beginning to make more sense - Jakahn has longed to be Emperor and his power as Advisor has done nothing more than poison this city further. It’s given him a solid grounding and his voice is heard. He knows that we’re a threat, free of the Dosage.” he paused, shaking his head, “Removing me from the picture has been well timed. I’m such a fool…I walked right into it. Like killing two birds with one stone.”

“But what about Pirian, he’s only a boy?”

“He doesn’t want any of the underclass clean. The Dosage is law. The fact we are Horncastles just makes things worse. We are a huge threat.” stated Jeradon

“I’m a Horncastle, does that mean he’s planning to kill me as well?” stressed Neeve.

“I think we both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Please…Jeradon...” she pleaded, looking down at their son.

“Pirian knows, Neeve. Jakahn’s son has taunted him about it long enough. It’s not just Newton he has wanted...we’ve always known that.”

It was true. For months now Viktor had taunted Pirian about getting rid of him and his father. He knew that Victor’s own father had had other motives towards his mother.

“I’d rather die.” sobbed Neeve, holding her husband’s hand to her cheek. “I can’t go back to that.”

“Neeve, listen to me. You must be strong. Take Pirian with you and contact the Resistance, before it’s too late. You must warn them about Jakahn’s intentions. There are no rogue Guildsmen left to support the cause, they’ve even got to Bendarick. There is so much to tell and I am running out of time. Most of the prisoners here are all the people that had faith in me. They no longer rely on the Dosage and they’d have supported my actions. This New Order will be through his eyes now, and with the city as brainwashed as it has ever been, he’ll be unstoppable.”

“How will contacting the Resistance help you?”

Jeradon held her close. “It won’t, but I am hoping they will help you and Pirian. He’s already Emperor and now there is no one to oppose him. Myself and the rest of the prisoners will be executed.”

Pirian rushed forward, lashing out with his fists. “Dad! No! Say you didn’t do it! Say it!”

Jeradon grabbed his wrists then knelt down holding him close in an attempt to comfort his son, “Pirian...”

The cell opened and two guards walked in, standing either side of the heavy door. Dampened footsteps approached, then a man stood in the doorway for a brief moment before entering the cell. Torchlight caught his sharp features, casting harsh shadows on a ghostly white face. His ginger hair was tied back and receded, revealing a sharp hairline. Coils of teased hair hung down over his sideburns, which feathered outwards, while an equally groomed goatee decorated his chin.

The newly self-appointed Emperor was in traditional attire; pristine crimson suit, black pin stripe down the trouser leg; zig-zagging above knee high boots. A long robe hung down from his shoulders, the Newtonian symbol clipping it around his neck. Wrapped over one arm, he held the robe from the slimy floor.

Pirian immediately noticed the glance Rayal Jakahn gave his mother.

Relishing the moment, he then gave Jeradon a wholly satisfied look, “How quaint to have a family get together.” he said smugly, pulling at his beard, “Touching. Still I’m not one to split up families in their time of need. A man needs his wife for that little extra support; especially one who has committed such a terrible crime.”

He looked down at Pirian, “Ouch. Looks as though your boy’s been in the wars.”

“What do you want Jakahn?” snapped Jeradon.

Pirian flinched as Rayal raised his hand, snapping his fingers. The two guards left the cell, closing the door behind them, while Rayal moved one step closer to Jeradon. “I think we both know the answer to that.”

“No...you can’t do this!” shouted Neeve.

“Oh? I think you will find dear, that I can do what I want. I’m the Emperor now and I wish for many things to be changed around here. The first being public execution for your husband…” he paused, “…and son.”

Neeve began to shake uncontrollably. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Pirian gave out a scream and held onto his father.

“Leave Pirian out of this Rayal, he’s just a boy. Do you think executing a child will do you any favours? This is about you and me!”

“Oh please…your son is as much a problem to me as you are. You know as well as I do that you have no more of your precious serum for his sickness.”

“That doesn’t condone execution you heartless bas…” Jeradon bit his tongue, his rage swelling inside. Taking a quick breath he continued, “Newton will wake up to killing a child.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. I can always increase the Dosage. Besides, we all know the punishment for owning one of these.” Rayal held out the book that Viktor had taken from Pirian. “The thing is, I don’t need a reason. Nothing shocks Newton. The Dosage even blinds them to murder…it clouds everything and controls everyone; the true beauty of cutting off emotion. If Viktor had done his little job properly, you’d be none the wiser.”

Jeradon lurched forward with ferocious speed. Grasping Rayal by the throat he pushed him against the cell door. Jeradon grunted, clenching his teeth.

Pirian had never seen so much fury from his father; as if he had suddenly tapped into something dark and channelled. “I knew it! You really are something Jakahn!” shouted Jeradon.

Gagging, Rayal stared directly into Jeradon’s eyes. “You see…you see emotion my friend; it’s a real killer.” he raised his hand, “I only have to snap my fingers…and you’ll be torn apart before your family. Would you really want them to see that?”

Pirian and Neeve watched on in horror as Jeradon’s grip tightened around Rayal’s throat, “Dad...don’t...”

Even without the Dosage, Jeradon’s Guild training was an automatic reflex. From the age of five, all Newtonians who measured up to A-class, began to channel and focus their enhanced strength and ferocity. Newton had created the perfect killing machine; one that only knew how to answer to the Hierarchy.

“Newton may have always had the Guild brainwashed Rayal, but they will only protect you for so long. One day they will wake up.”

“They’ll be gone before it comes to that. I have other plans. In the meantime, they can continue with the crusade. As long as they believe they are looking for something of importance on Erth, there is no need for any Guildsman to return home. This way I can have them securing all the protronium we need; our precious fuel.”

Jeradon slammed him against the cell wall one last time, “I knew it! There is no artefact! It’s just an excuse!”

He shrugged, as though he didn’t care either way. But the mysterious artefact; the same object that Newton had searched an eternity for, held more answers than Jeradon’s Greenhouses had ever offered. Rayal hoped controlling the protronium fields one by one, would eventually point him to the artefact. There were many Rojin outposts left, which in turn would hopefully lead to the Rojin capital.

There was a silence as Rayal looked over at Neeve, “There is one thing that could save you and your son.”

Jeradon raised his head and caught Rayal’s eyes.

Neeve took her hands away from her mouth. How easy it would be, she thought, to stab out your eyes and be done with you. At least then she could join her family in death. But she knew all too well what was coming. They all knew.

“You’d release them...for me?” asked Neeve.

“Oh my dear, no. I’d give a choice other than execution.”

“A choice,” muttered Jeradon under his breath, as he slowly released his grip on Rayal’s throat. Pondering for a moment, Jeradon then placed both hands up against the wall, shaking his head slowly in desperation.

“Neeve stays with me and becomes Empress. In return I will spare your lives. Instead you will be outcast with the rest of the scum. Kind of a ‘cleansing of Newton’ if you will. You’ll become Fallen,” answered Rayal, flattening his hair in an effort to tidy it after Jeradon’s assault.

“Then you may as well execute us. If we become Fallen, the chance of survival is a thousand to one”.

“Mmmm. Makes it more interesting. But at least you get to see Erth again. Perhaps the Rojin will welcome you with as much affection as my good self; especially as you’re responsible for killing so many of their people. Those were the days, hey old friend?”

Pirian’s stomach turned at the thought of Rayal and his father side by side. Jeradon was no longer a killer and no one could convince Pirian otherwise. Even if it came from his father’s mouth.

“I’ve changed.”

“So I noticed. Just look where it’s got you. Lord Surel was a fool to allow you to be clean.”

Neeve detested her husband being tormented like this. Sensing his pain, she couldn’t stand the ridicule of the man she loved any longer. “I’ll do it,” she interrupted glancing at her husband, “I’ll go with you.”

Jeradon pushed himself away from the wall and looked his wife in the eye, “No.” he whispered.

“I have no choice. At least if you are outcast there is a chance you’ll survive.”

Pirian was speechless, burying his head further. What was his mother saying?

“Then it’s settled.” added Rayal.

Jeradon slackened his tense fists; it felt as though the guards had used their stun rods after all. He continued to look across at Neeve as she knelt and held their son. She knew as well as her husband that this was the only chance of survival her son had. Without his serum, Pirian would die anyway.

“Mum, I don’t want to leave, I can’t...”

“Pirian, it’s the only way. You must go with your father, he’ll look after you. I’ll be alright, I’ll be safe here on Newton. You must be brave…both of you.”

The thought of his mother with Rayal, brainwashed once again by the Dosage, sent a chill down Pirian’s spine.

With her back to Rayal, Neeve looked her husband in the eye. The pain was unbearable.

“Neeve...” whispered Jeradon.

She put a finger to his mouth and whispered, “Don’t say anything. Just look after our boy. You know as well as I do, he’s dead either way. There is more chance for him on Erth. Keep him safe, I can take care of myself. Just don’t forget me Jeradon Horncastle, one of us has to keep our memory alive.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

Jeradon felt his throat constrict, preventing him from saying anymore.

Neeve addressed Rayal while still looking her husband in the eye. “When are they to be outcast?”

The tension was unbearable while she awaited his answer.

“This evening.”

Chapter III