Attrition of the Gods: Book 1 of the Mystery Thriller series Gods Toys. (3 page)

“Well, shall we be partners?”

Adam turns to see Ember’s open face smiling at him.

“Err, yeah, if you’re sure? That’d be great.”

Dallas looks furious.
What is she doing?
He thinks to himself.
Surely her father, the Procurator
of this order, has taught his daughter about mixing with inferior classes? She can’t mean it. She must
be just humouring him…

Ember suddenly grabs Adam’s hand and holds it aloft announcing,

“Yeah, team freak show!” Adam shrinks back as everybody looks at them.

“Listen, Ember, maybe you should reconsider? I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”             

“Fuck ’em,” replies Ember, with a look of pride that proves she probably isn’t used to swearing so casually.

Adam laughs at hearing this sweet, innocent, young girl curse and as they make their way out of the auditorium the sound of the heckling follows them.

“You are nothing like I imagined,” he tells her.

Ember smiles; she is nothing like anyone imagines. She has been brought up and educated mostly by her father after the tragic death of her mother. Nobody knows this but her father secretly holds quite liberal views despite being a high-ranking official of the Aryan Supreme Council and he has taught her to question (again secretly) everything, including the belief that Aryans are the chosen and superior race. Ember has always disliked their caste type system even as a young child. She is wise beyond her years when it comes to understanding the purpose of it as social stratification and segregation. When she learned an actual Caucasian would be attending the RLT at the same time as her she was overjoyed and had made sure she would be sitting next to him on their first day.

Divide et impera

« Future cares have future cures, And we must mind today. »

Sophocles, Antigone

The two youngsters soon form a friendship that sees Ember disliked by the other students almost as much as Adam is. She doesn’t seem bothered by it; Ember has always exuded a confidence instilled in her by her father. She is quite happy to spend her time exclusively with Adam as, quite frankly, she finds the others boring. Not only does he offer insight into a world she has never known, feeding her thirst for knowledge, but also only he can match her intelligence. The others respect her mainly for her status whereas Adam looks at her with eyes of intrigue. He makes her feel like something unknown rather than the foregone conclusion that she sees reflected in everyone else’s eyes. Sometimes it feels like Adam’s friendship is the only thing keeping her head above water. Not that she could ever let anyone know that. After all, what could the Procurator’s daughter ever have to complain about?

Adam and Ember slip into a routine of going to the Bibliotheque after their lessons each day, both keen to maximise their research and make sure they do not give Dallas or the other students any ammunition to use against them. Without discussing it, each of them has decided they will submit the best dissertation at the end of term. Ember loves to see Adam so excited every time he enters this hallowed library. He looks like a kid in a Cybercandy market as he takes in the spectacular interior: six storeys of wooden balconies, solid carved oak and filled to the brim with books.

The smell of wood-polish and leather is one Ember has long associated with knowledge. Her father would sneak her in to the library when she was little, always keen to emphasise the importance of education and Ember had memorised the twists and turns well before she had reached her teens. When she had first brought Adam in he joked that she looked like she owned the entire building and all its contents. She had laughed it off but the comment had touched a nerve. Was that really how she came across? No wonder everyone else kept their distance. She watched Adam as he explored the library, seeing it through his eyes and trying to appreciate it, not just take it for granted. For possibly the first time in her life she has found her intellectual equal, although sometimes even she must admit his knowledge of the Old World is actually superior to hers, an accomplishment he tells her is credit to his tutor, a man called Raphael.

Adam is not sure what this friendship is. He definitely relishes the joys of exchanging knowledge and even looks forward to their often heated debates but he also cannot ignore just how beautiful she is. He’s had female friends before but none as fascinating as Ember and none of them could ever make him think as much as her; she really gets into his head sometimes.

“I love this city,” Ember says to Adam as they step out of the building into a sunny afternoon. She looks out at the gleaming lively Megatropolis. “I mean, sixty-seven million people all living in this one conurbation. Do you know it’s the largest city ever constructed? It’s even bigger than the cities people lived in before the Tribulation. In fact this whole place used to cross two whole territories of old Australia! This area around here was called Adelaide and…”

Ember stops talking as she notices Adam subconsciously shaking his head in disagreement. “What? You think I am wrong?”

Adam mentally braces himself for the beginning of one of their heated debates.

“No, I was just thinking that it’s a pity more of them sixty-seven million can’t live around here.” He gestures towards the beautiful sculptures, fountains and monuments that adorn the courtyard they have entered. “I mean, look, free water!”

“Oh, well, yes. I agree it’s a shame but still it’s an amazing place, don’t you think?”

Adam is careful, he knows Ember may be agreeing as one of her ploys to make him let his guard down and tell her what he really feels. If it was the plan, it works.

“I don’t see how a city designed to keep people segregated into categories to allow certain races to have privileges over others can ever be described as amazing. Even the buildings around here have a hierarchical purpose. I mean, the higher up you live the more important you are. Do you really think that is okay?”

Ember shakes her head and Adam begins to rant, paraphrasing speeches he has heard Raphael make.

“Aryans rule. They have the privilege. Okay, that’s fine, the ‘Host’ has decreed that they are the special ones but does that mean all others have to suffer? Thirty million Caucasians live in the industrial sector, which has none of the beauty and splendour or luxuries you have up here. Thirty million crammed into an area half the size of this exclusive fucking utopian home of what… seven million poxy snowheads?

“My dad works six days a week so we can eat and pay rent on our three-bedroom apartment. He doesn’t complain because he was brought up to believe he was blessed. I mean the non-whites in the favelas and the slums are much worse off than us. They’re not allowed to earn money, they are virtually slaves living in those shitty shanty towns but they don’t complain because even they think they are better off than those who end up in Subterrainia, where God alone knows what goes on! It’s all a very clever way to control the people and made possible because of
this
city. So no, I don’t think it’s amazing.”

Ember waits before replying just to make sure he is finished. Adam looks to the floor half regretting his rant. He notices how her brow furrows and he recoils, expecting a sarcastic remark and some sort of put-down; he is not disappointed.

“Woo, reel ya neck in bad boy! I was just talking about the structure not the whole socio-geo-political situation. Chill out, matey, you know I’m not a fan of segregation. I’m just saying, and even you’ve gotta admit, the city is pretty impressive.”

Ember’s arms spread and she smiles playfully, trying to defuse the tension. Adam looks around from the steps they stand on and down into the sprawling city.

“Well, yes, the architecture is…” he stumbles over his last word, “…amazing.”

He looks over to her sheepishly and bursts out laughing. Ember can’t help but join in, playfully nudging him in the shoulder.

Adam jumps onto a podium and cranes his neck to look over the walls so he can get a better view of the city. In spite of himself he always does feel a sense of awe looking down at the Aryan part of the city.

Designed as a fusion of Ancient Rome and twenty-second-century architecture, it is a marvel of monuments, statues and magnificent buildings. An elevated simulacrum of Solfrid the First and the huge Sky Dome that hovers above it dominate the skyline. The neon-blue travel tubes that connect the corners of the Aryan section zigzag between the buildings, creating a network of tentacles running through the city. Behind it Adam can just see the tops of the buildings that populate his area, Midtown. This area is not so grandioso! Large grey apartment blocks and huge factories dominate Midtown, the home of said thirty million Caucasians and the industrial hub of Jinn City. Adam and his family live in Ravensdale, one of ten sectors down there.

Although he cannot see from here Adam knows that beyond his sector lie the ghettos and shanty towns that run right up to the ocean. These house the thirty-odd million non-whites, split into four racial groups: Black, Hispanic, Oriental and Asian. These people then fall under further caste definitions that, according to Raphael, are encouraged so as to keep the masses divided and dissuade any form of civil disobedience. Adam does know that they are heavily policed by a private security force known as the Mackies who rule with an iron fist and take full advantage of the lack of rights these unfortunates have.

Finally there is Subterrainia: a labyrinth of underground tunnels that are home to the rejected, undesirables and untouchables. No police force is needed down there as they are left to fend for themselves. The truth is, no one pays enough to risk policing this lawless domain.

“So how does a boy from Midtown feel about taking a high-bred Aryan to see his manor?” Ember is looking at Adam expectantly.

“Boy? I am eighteen. In my part of town you’re a man at sixteen. We don’t have our mummies looking after us until we reach thirty, like you Aryans.” Adam says this with a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Okay, so how does a
man
from Midtown feel about taking me to his home?”

Adam is cautious. “Why would such a privileged girl want to slum it in Midtown?”

“Let us call it research. I need to get a feel for how the heart of this city beats.”

“I don’t think so. You won’t like it down there, no marble pavements or boutique stores, not even a Y station.”

“You still don’t trust me, do you?” Ember’s tone is light-hearted but Adam can’t resist a dig.

“No. I don’t trust Aryans. They tend to treat me and mine like something that they scraped off their shoe. I’m pretty sure that I’ve only been allowed to attend the RLT because your lot think I will fail and give them all something to laugh about.”

Now it is Ember’s turn to be defensive. She folds her arms tight and stands as if to attention, visibly hurt that Adam’s accusations include her. On the surface she wants to keep the conversation light but no matter how much they try to avoid it they always come back to this. She adopts a firm tone.

“You know I don’t think like that and nor does my father. He fought for you to be included when the other Council members wanted you disqualified.”

“I passed the exam! Why would he have to fight for me? I don’t need help from any fucking snowheads.”

Recognising the hurt on her face he immediately feels guilty and a little ungrateful. He wants to trust her. He moves closer and lays his hands on her shoulders before saying. “Look, I’m not having a go at you or your dad but let me ask you one thing, and I want you to look me in the eye when you answer, is that okay?”

Ember nods and holds her face close to Adam’s, enthusiastically staring into his eyes. Adam steps back, a little uncomfortable. He looks back into her eyes and feels entranced, noticing once more how mesmerising she is. A shake of his head brings him back to reality. He concentrates. Raphael has taught him more than just history; he has explained how to read a person’s face when asking a question, to know if they are telling the truth or not. He fixes his stare to hers before he asks, “Can I trust you?”

“Yes,” she replies without hesitation.

He doesn’t know if it’s Raphael’s teachings or Ember’s angelic face or perhaps her sincere tone but from deep in his gut he feels he can trust her. It’s as if he has known her all his life. If he is honest it has been like that since the moment they met.

“My mum is throwing a party for me next week for my birthday. I was thinking of asking you anyway, so how about we kill two birds with one stone and you come to that?”

Ember is slightly taken aback by the sudden change but also delighted. This is a true sign of trust. She knows when she has the advantage and pushes for one more act of trust and friendship.

“That would be great. I was going to ask you something as well.” She pauses and shuffles in a cute, manipulative way before continuing. “Your mysterious tutor…..you mention him all the time but then when I ask about him you clam up. I mean, he sounds fascinating. Won’t you tell me more, please?” Her bottom lip is pushed out as she attempts to use the look that has never failed on her father.

Adam looks at her unfazed; he’s grown up surrounded by girls. Ember admits defeat and pulls her shoulders back to regain her proud posture,

“Okay, well, I’m fairly sure we can arrange some sort of information exchange instead,” she says, with one eyebrow raised. “I happen to be privy to some pretty interesting stuff, you know.”

Adam sighs, relenting, and soon he is relaying things to her that he has not even shared with his own family.

“Okay, so this guy, Raphael… he is a bit weird. A few years ago he offered to help me with my studies. He has a mind full of knowledge and he basically taught me everything I needed to know to pass the entrance exam. He never even charged me; he just asks for food and drink now and again, especially wine, but besides that he asks for very little. It’s unbelievable what he knows and it all just comes out of his head. I hardly ever even see him with a book or VLD.”