The Collective (10 page)

Abel stayed knelt holding the necklace with his eyes closed
for a moment longer. Then he stood up, placed the charm in his pocket and went
out the front door. To his surprise, a small crowd had formed outside the
house. Abel recognized many of the townspeople by face, if not by name. The
crowd grew silent as he approached. Grise was among the crowd, but only the
town merchant, Aaron could muster his voice. “Abel we are all terribly sorry
about your parents. They were…great people. This life is cruel to us common
folks. We barely have food. How can we fight him?”

Abel appreciated Aaron’s words, but he also sensed his
fear. A fear that Abel lost the day he awoke in Bourdain. “Him? You mean
Xonox.”

The people were shocked that Abel would say his name. Few
spoke Xonox’s name, for his retaliation was legendarily swift. Abel’s boldness
astounded them. Aaron attempted to diffuse the situation. “Slow down Abel.
You’ve had enough trouble.”

“Trouble.” Abel’s trembled with anger. “You haven’t seen it
yet...”

Tommie cut Abel off before he could finish his thoughts.
“Yeah, I have something that’s going to have the big dog scratching for a
while. Y’know what I mean.”

Aaron was confused by the choice of words, but got the gist
of Tommie’s meaning.  “Surely you aren’t thinking to challenge him and the
House of Vancrew?” Aaron surveyed the jeep, Tommie Gun, and then Abel. “We know
you have been through a lot. Come stay with me awhile. Bring your friend and
we’ll talk this through.”

Abel listened with little inspiration to Aaron. He knew the
man meant well. Suddenly, he noticed a familiar face in the crowd. A name he
had not forgotten. Pushing through the people Abel yelled his name. “FORSUM!
You dog! You traitor!”

Forsum put his hands up gesturing his innocence as Abel
continued to advance.  Realizing Abel was beyond reason, Forsum took off
running down a side street with Abel not far behind. Forsum was always quicker
than Abel when they were younger, but eluding Abel proved difficult this time.
Forsum ducked and dodged, nearly collided with an older woman and jumped over
boxes as Abel moved closer. As Forsum slid to turn a corner, Abel bull rushed
him into the side of a house. Taking Forsum’s shirt in both hands, Abel pulled
him to his face. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now!”

Half choked, Forsum spat out a reply. “Abel...It wasn’t
me...”

“It wasn’t you! You didn’t sell my family out to Xonox?!” 

“No.” Forsum choked out the response as the shirt tightened
around his neck from Abel’s grip.

Abel held Forsum and stared into his eyes. “What did they
give you for my parent’s deaths?” He tried to understand what led a childhood
friend to betray him. 

A distinct voice spoke from behind Abel. “It wasn’t Forsum,
Abel. I’m the one to blame.”

Abel
turned to see Grise standing near him. 

Still clinching Forsum, he could not believe his own ears.
“No...It can’t be you. My Father trusted you with his life.”

 Grise hung his head in shame. “I know...Your Father said
tell no one of the well. But I had to tell my wife, Liona. She was the one that
notified the Water Facility Manager and ultimately Xonox.”

“Why Grise?” The pain on Abel’s face was evident. Grise was
like an uncle to him.

“She sought power.” Grise started. “She hoped it would
elevate us out of Gravope. She was wrong. They sent a case of water to our
home. That was all, a case of water for my friend’s lives.” Abel was now facing
Grise, Forsum all but forgotten. 

“Where is she now?”

“I took care of her.” Grise said.

Abel reiterated. “No. I mean, where is she?”

Grise knew what Abel was implying. What Abel did not
understand was the matter was already resolved. “Abel....She is no longer of
this Earth.”

Abel paused, sensing the loss that Grise had suffered due
to his wife’s hunger for power and status. It was all a vicious game structured
by Xonox and the Collective. The poor hungered for status and many destroyed
all they had built to obtain it. In this instance, there were two broken homes.
Meanwhile, Xonox dwelled unaffected in his ivory tower, basking in the wealth
of absolute power, acquired on the backs of the downtrodden. Abel placed his
hand on Grise’s shoulder. “They will be avenged my friend.”

There was a still silence. The men hung their heads
honoring the dead. Tommie finally interrupted the tribute. “Hey, I don’t mean
to break up the reunion, but we need to get going to Warden’s before The
Mountie or Xonox’s spies track us here.”

Abel looked at Tommie and shook his head in affirmation.
Turning to Grise and Forsum.  “We could use some more bodies for this. People
we can trust. Either of you up for it?” Grise nodded his head in agreement. Forsum
wearily raised his hand. Abel smirked at the contrasting responses. Tommie,
unamused, slapped Forsum’s hand. “He’s raising his hand. Are you kidding me?
You aren’t volunteering to be the designated driver for a road trip, this is
series business kid!”

“I can handle myself.” Forsum said sheepishly holding his
bruised hand.

Abel stared at Forsum and thought about what he was
bringing him into. Like Abel, he had lived his whole life in Gravope isolated
from the severe dangers that lay outside. Was he ready for the challenge? Abel
was not sure. But what he was sure of was Xonox’s reign had to end. He knew
that he wanted to be part of the force that brought him down. Though Warden
offered him direct command over his soldiers, he needed people that he could trust
around him. Would Isnor fight when the time came? Abel could not say. But Grise
and Forsum would be at his side to the end regardless the outcome. With that
rationale, Abel began making his way to the jeep with his two allies. Tommie
gritted his teeth and growled under his breath before taking up the rear.

CHApter 10

upper houses

Xonox stepped from the elevator. He was finally going to
engage the party goers. They had been in his home for the last day. The events
for Pheona’s birthday were always two or three day affairs. This was nothing
compared to the week-long gala she held for her twenty-first birthday last
year.  As he walked down the short hall he straightened his tie. Dante
ceremoniously dusted lint from the shoulder of his suit. The suit’s blend of
gold and the rarest silk threads touched off with the Vicuna cloth gleamed
under the soft white light. His gold, pave-set diamond buttons sparkled as he
moved toward the door. Xonox motioned for the two guards to open the doors, and
he made his grand entrance into the ballroom. 

As Xonox entered the music and chatter died down to a
murmur. All of the House of Vancrew was there to honor his daughter. Many had
stayed overnight in the guest quarters on the lower floors, so as not to miss
his eminence. There was a mix of the upper crust, servants and performers.
Bodyguards stood in each corner of the room, while others roamed through the
crowd staying alert of any suspicious actions. Drink and food flowed so the
guest wanted for nothing nor had the need to ask. A singer crooned softly next
to the piano player on one side and on the opposite end a juggler tossed knives
in the air to amuse the small children. There was no concern for the man’s
skill the knives he juggled were akin to his life. If one knife slipped or
touched the floor his fate was decided. A man and woman who were moments ago
dancing furiously paused to show their respect. Xonox had his private painter
sitting at a large canvas etching the moment in time. His talents with pastel colors
were known through the town and people marveled at his evolving depiction of
the celebration. This was the House of Vancrew. This was Xonox’s family.
Similar to most families, most of the people in the room would step over his
dead body to gain more power. The ruling class lifted their glasses and bowed
their heads to Xonox honoring their king. He caught the eye of Nere Hilson, the
third to the House of Vancrew, who nodded his head as a gesture of thanks. He
saw the swift retribution that Xonox doled out on anyone who disrupted his
home. Hilson knew that Crispus was a distant memory. His allegiance to Xonox
was strengthened and he was assured if he ever came against Xonox his plan best
succeed. There was nowhere to seek forgiveness in this realm. Hilson learned
that Xonox’s influence had a far reach.

For Xonox the worst part was the men and women vying for
Crispus’ abandoned position as fourth to the House. He also pondered what to do
with the Crispus family. By law he had every right to dispose of the family and
anything that resembled the Crispus name. Unfortunately, his daughter was
smitten with Crispus’s son, Juda. Xonox intended to drop Juda into his shark
tank on the fortieth floor and see if the boy drowned before the sharks ate
him. The rest of the family would have shared a similar fate. His last
discussion with Pheona made him rethink the strategy.  Instead he would
essentially sell the family to whoever took over the fourth spot and
incorporate them into his court. Daeph, Crispus’s mother, was a wise, shrewd
woman. Her council could have some value. A part of Lilia, Crispus’s wife,
would be destroyed but she may be more thankful her life was spared. Crispus’s
daughter was a quiet beauty, though she was young she could be a valuable asset
to him. If Juda ever found out that Xonox killed his father he would have no
choice but to seek revenge. If the son was like the father, Xonox figured he
had little to worry about. Crispus’s poor attempt to kill Hilson made him
wonder of the boy’s ability. Xonox laughed to himself at the thought of fearing
this boy, then quickly contemplated letting him swim with the sharks, then
reasoned that he had come up with the best solution. Why destroy an entire
family for their father’s ignorance? Besides he could easily change his mind if
things did not go as planned. Xonox made his way to the front of the room. He
spotted Edon Stylez, his second in the House of Vancrew. Stylez raised his hand
to acknowledge him, but Xonox could not stop and commiserate, he had to address
the crowd then speak with his daughter. As he neared the front of the room
Pheona approached him.  Xonox kissed her on the cheek as they embraced. They
both acted as if the earlier argument had not occurred. He had trained her
well. The warmth and smiles between them belied the conflict over the handling
of Crispus. He turned towards the filled room and the servants froze in place.
In mid-pour one of the attendants lifted the bottle ever so slightly to
discontinue the elixir’s stream. Xonox addressed his court. 

“I want to thank you all for coming. There is food, drink
and entertainment for all. What more could we ask for in this life? We are the
fortunate ones behind this great city’s wall, high above the desolation beyond.
We have been tasked with a great responsibility to usher in this new world,
this new age, into something greater. I would call it a golden age, an age of
wisdom.  All among us has succeeded and thrived due to our intellect and
sophistication. Let us not forget our courtesies to one another. For if we lose
that, we are no better than the animals that dwell among the outer plains.” The
First of the House of Vancrew paused allowing the gallery to mimic his
sentiment.  “As you know we are gathered here to honor my daughter Pheona on
her twenty-second birthday. I have watched her grow into the smart, strong and
beautiful young woman that stands before you. One day soon, she will be the
head of this family and possibly the head of the House of Vancrew.” The crowd
applauded vigorously. “Again, thank you for coming. Enjoy the splendors of my
home and remember, ‘Wealth is the result of a strong mind’.”  He took a glass
filled with sparkling wine from a servant’s tray and raised it. “To the House
of Vancrew.”

The nobility raised their glasses and spoke in unison. “To
the House of Vancrew!”

Xonox lowered his glass turned to Pheona and the
festivities continued.

“Father. Thank you for everything.” Pheona said. “About our
last conversation…”

She was interrupted as her father motioned towards the
young man standing by her.  “Who is your friend Pheona?”
It was all for
effect. Xonox was well aware of the name and rank of every person in
attendance. It was his sole purpose to know who was in his presence. His
survival rested on understanding what they were thinking and their motives. He
accrued power by staying five steps ahead of his aggressors and they feared
him.

Pheona introduced the man obviously unsettled by Xonox’s
perceived intentions. “Father you remember Juda, Crispus’s son.”

“Yes. Young Juda. A pleasure. How are you enjoying
yourself.” Xonox inquired as he squeezed Juda’s shoulder.

The First’s eyes were met with trepidation as Juda summoned
his courage. “Mr. Xonox. It is always an honor to be in your presence. My
father always speaks highly of you sir.”

“No need for formalities tonight Juda. Your presence speaks
volumes.” Xonox intoned.

“Thank you sir.” The man replied with a slight bow.

“Are your mother and sister with you?” Xonox questioned.

“My mother had to step away. She...she had some concerns she
had to deal with.”

“Oh?” Xonox eyebrows perked up as if he was about to hear
some disturbing news for the first time. The pressures of the evening were
obviously wearing on Juda. His voice trembled as he spoke. “My father has not
returned home. There has been no word from him or his aide.”

Xonox and Pheona eyes caught momentarily while Juda stared
at the floor searching for his words. He knew as well as they that his father
would not be returning. It was unlike his father to disappear in the night with
half of his personal guard and send no word to the family. Juda knew something
was wrong. He was young, but he could sense the danger that his family was in.
If his father died or was killed in an honorable manner, as the head of the
Crispus family, he was next in the line of succession and would carry on the
family dealings. But Juda had seen people disappear before and watched as
families were torn apart. Words escaped him. Xonox tried to give him false
assurance. “Crispus is a smart man. He normally thinks his actions through
before he acts them out.”

“You’re right. Thank you for your sincerity.” Juda said
hopefully, searching for a ray of hope.

“Of course.”  Xonox patted the young man on the shoulder
while searching the room to conduct other business. His words were truthful to
Juda. Normally his father carefully crafted his plan of attack. Unfortunately
his overzealous ambition had been his downfall. He cultivated his family so
well in the course of civility he forgot to train those around him in the art
of impropriety. Xonox walked a short distance to engage Stylez.

“Xonox.” The Second of the House remarked. “You have
outdone yourself. This is a marvelous feast.”

Xonox grabbed his hand and exchanged pleasantries. “Your
son Edin’s birthday was quite the event. I could not let you outshine my home.
We must play our parts in this game of ascension.” The two men shared a laugh
as the fire of competition burned behind their eyes.  Stylez naturally vied for
Xonox’s position through his show of wealth. He could not match Xonox in
violence and corruption, therefore nothing was too outrageous or gaudy for
Stylez.  The more attention the better. His home was several stories lower than
Xonox, but it was trimmed in gold inside and out. The ballroom was an ice rink
of highly polished gold. He employed servants and guards in an attempt to stay
on par with Xonox to the point of overcrowding his home. So when Stylez hosted
a two day gala for his son’s sixteenth birthday, Xonox was expected to hold a
week-long event at his home at enormous expense. All expected for someone in
Xonox’s position. His Second was skilled in the art of conversation and his
charm was alluring. Where Xonox ruled with impunity, using his massive wealth
to inspire loyalty, Stylez gained friends and influenced with his. He was loved
by his peers and servants. Many in the House of Vancrew felt he should replace
Xonox on personality alone. But there were those who were entrenched with
Xonox, mainly the Collective heads. It took a certain combination of ruthlessness
and false grace to run a house within the Collective. Let alone the ravenous
House of Vancrew. They were aware that Stylez was not without sin. No one rose
in the Collective without washing their hands in blood. But Xonox possessed the
resilience only rivaled by Mordal and Croman, the leaders of the first and
second Houses. Propelling themselves to the status of sovereign rulers had led
them down a path of lies and destruction. Rebellions were crushed, people left
to die of dehydration and constantly lording over the masses to protect their
kingdoms.

Xonox was known to use gangs and mercenaries to keep the
townspeople in line. The gangs stole from the people and kept them discouraged.
He supplied them with water and supplies for their loyalty. Mercenaries were
for more powerful foes, dispatching of a rogue gang leader or permanently
silencing one of the fallen elite. He knew the ability of his organization and
was adept at inciting terror around him. Stylez might be more loved, but he
would never sit atop the Collective. That was Xonox’s destiny only. Lost in
thought he barely listened as Stylez described the large diamond he recently
acquired for his wife. Dante approached him slowly, touching his shoulder and
whispering in his ear. “Sir, you’re needed in the comm room.”  Xonox nodded his
head.

“Forgive me Stylez. We’ll continue this game of whose
diamond is bigger another time. I have a pressing matter to address.”

“Is this finally a crack in the armor?” Stylez’s voice
dripped with sarcasm. “I mention the acquisition of a small diamond and you
rush out of the party post-haste. Surely a rare red diamond won’t come between
friends.” Stylez chuckled as well as some of his underlings around him. Xonox
was accustomed to this sport of one-upmanship, but his attention was focused on
real concerns. His tone was distant as he responded looking through his guest.

“No Stylez. I’m sure the diamond you speak of is the one my
wife wore to many parties. I recently parted with it as it was a painful
reminder of my wife’s unexpected death. The diamond may be rare and beautiful
to behold, but it was ultimately of no value to me. Enjoy the party.”

Xonox left the room with the grace he had entered. He was
neither bother or annoyed by Stylez comments, but their back and forth had lost
its luster. Stylez and the other guest within earshot of the conversation were
stunned. Xonox never mentioned his wife, especially at a time of celebration.
It was a bad omen. Stylez would sell the diamond and offer his apologies to his
host at the next opportunity.

Xonox stepped through the double doors leading to his
communication room. Within the small foyer a smooth, steel double door was
tucked behind the wood finished wall. The doors shut and locked behind him. On
cue the lights dimmed as the room turned pitch black. Infrared blades of blue
light scanned over his body. The whole process ended as quickly as it began. 
Once his identity was confirmed the lights illuminated and the steel door slid
up. Xonox crossed the threshold facing a matte black wall with two stairs
ascending on either side. Placing his foot on the right stair treads he watched
the embedded lights slowly brighten and run up the stairs and along the
railing. As he reached the top of the stairs he could see the short cantilever
bridge extending out into the large room. The central control area was at the
end of the span and large screens curved around in a semi-circle. Xonox
proceeded down the middle of the bridge until he reached the end. Sitting in
his custom chair he looked at the screens above. He slid his palm over the
sensor in the arm rest as the screens flickered from black to blue.