Rise Read online

  “What’s the matter, David?” ask Eric Himpton. “Too much high class for you? I’ll wager this is more opulence than you’ve ever seen.”

  David stiffened in his meditations as the dark, handsome aide leaned over from the seat beside him. Eric was the latest addition to the Blythe campaign. While it took some time for David to allow Blythe to fill Mercy’s position, his horror was complete when Blythe selected Eric Himpton as his second aide. However, Eric thrived in his position. He was an intelligent young man, and what else would an intelligent young man do in a campaign of envy, self-gratification, and sex, other than thrive. The lad fit right in as he partook in the wiles.

  Of course, the Blythe campaign looked professional from the perspective of an onlooker. The Blythe campaign: truthful and diligent. Working to better your society by fulfilling your needs. That’s the way the tabloids portrayed it anyway. But on the inside, Eric and everyone else in the campaign, save David and one or two others, used Houseland funds to further their own lusts.

  “I don’t think anyone has ever seen this much opulence before, Eric.” David said as he squeezed the neck of his wine goblet, not meeting the tan boy’s lazy gaze.

  Eric snickered. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you weren’t excited to be at the most coveted party of the cycle. That’s a very interesting prospect for Speaker Blythe’s first and strongest supporter.”

  David rolled his head around and looked at Eric with a forced smile. “Well, you don’t know any better, so shut up.”

  Eric frowned but didn’t say anything as he drained his glass and raised it for the waiters to refill.

  David looked up as the audiences’ cheer rose to a crescendo, cheering for Blythe as he deposited the redheaded beauty in a chair and stepped up to a podium beside the speaker’s table. He raised his hands to quiet the rabble, but they were too excited, or too drunk, to realize. They roared on, praising his name through sputtering speech. One man elbowed David in his exuberance, spilling half a goblet of wine on the woman next to him in the process. She laughed, hardly even noticing.

  Blythe continued with his attempts to placate the people with dancing hands, but they would not have it. He laughed at their enthusiasm and stepped back to await their attention. Eventually, they grew thirsty and went looking for their wine.

  “Friends! I cannot thank you enough for your support, and I am glad to be amongst such caring people as we welcome in a new cycle, the dawning of a new age.”

  A lone patron interrupted him as he shouted out from the crowd, “Thanks for the wine, William.”

  Blythe laughed with the rest of the crowd, and it was some time until he could resume his speech.

  “You’re welcome, Edward. Remind me next cycle to limit your intake. Now, we are here tonight to honor Alönia’s remarkable achievements, struggles, and triumphs in the past cycle, notably, the final triumph and the crowning victory of the Equalist party.

  Everybody in the room jumped to their feet and shouted their approval. Fists rose, women squealed, and more wine spilled. David joined them for fear of standing out.

  “Yes, a remarkable achievement, to be sure, but we celebrate the future more so than the past. We are here to imagine an even more remarkable 3242nd cycle. We must not stop to marvel at the changes of last cycle or the last hundred before it. We must dream of the changes still to come. Memories are fruitless. We must look to our dreams. For when our memories outgrow our dreams, we will fade into memory ourselves. I pledge to you that we will never fade, nor will we ever relinquish the trust and power that the people of Alönia have bestowed upon us!”

  As the crowd applauded yet again, David snickered at the hidden meaning in the words. Blythe had just announced himself a tyrant. Did anyone else in the room hear? Or perhaps, they didn’t care?

  “We must look forward to new and evolving ideas in an effort to create a more perfect Houseland.” Blythe continued. “We must not fear change. Instead, let us welcome it, embrace it, and nourish it. The great story of Alönia’s recent past was the triumph in the Protectorate Wars. But I challenge you this evening as the last moments of 3241 pass us by, who are we if our proudest moment is the destruction of our neighbors? Our greatest hero a warrior? What of the unsung heroes? What of the struggling poor? The struggle for equal rights? The triumph over entrepreneurial government?”

  The people grew silent at this as their lips puckered to a frown and they nodded their heads. David felt his face flush at the slight toward his grandfather. Had they forgotten the destruction of Armstad? Had they forgotten the violent natures of those so-called neighbors? But of course they had; they had abandoned fruitless memory in favor of baseless dreams.

  “We must never forget the meaning of the Fertile Plains.” Blythe said. “It is a place where all peoples, regardless of their realm, can come together and shelter from the harshness of the Southern Ocean, or the heat of the desert, or the cold of the frozen wastes. I have been in contact with our Neighbors, the Viörn and the Berg. They desire peace more than any of us, and as proof of their sentiments, they are unifying their two great realms through marriage, a Viörn princess for a Bergish prince. This marks the end of ancient hostilities and the healing of old wounds. But I ask you: will Alönia resist such sentiments? If the story of the past was the triumph over our neighbors, what will the story of the future be? Let it be of healing and unification. To bring peace to a land where we shed our differences and honor our commonality.”

  The people applauded, more subdued this time as a few wiped eyes and blew noses. Several even called out blessings on the new couple.

  So it was true, then. David thought back to the conversation he had overheard between Walker and the mysterious Armstadi. Peace was never a bad thing, but the very prospect that Blythe desired gave David pause. What was the angle? He always had an angle. He'd surprised David already when he got caught looking the wrong way. Never again. Besides, did they not already have peace in the Fertile Plains? How else would one describe sixty cycles without war?

  But Blythe wasn’t finished. “But such a triumph will require great effort from us all and great sacrifice. We must stand against hatred and bigotry, nationalism and domination. We must continue to alleviate poverty, not only here, but all across the Fertile Plains. We must bridle our prosperity with service in our communities. We must encourage the greaters among us to serve the lessers through carefully crafted legislation. And we must find new ways to better care for these Fertile Plains we all call home.”

  “Here! Here!” Representative Arnold shouted from his seat across from David. Albert Arnold headed up the newly minted Fertile Plains restoration comity, and Blythe nodded to him before he continued.

  “There will be resistance, particularly from our Pragmatic friends.” A collective boo rang out among the patrons. “We may not be able to eliminate all oppression, greed, and intolerance, but we can create new hatred for such characteristics and an intolerance among the masses as has never been seen before. For the rich are few, but many are equal.”

  As the people applauded and shouted once again, David let his eyebrows shoot up. This man wanted a cultural war, one sown with the seeds of envy, and this didn’t trouble anyone? Sure, use some tax funds to help out those in need, but when did hate become a part of it.

  “There will be consequences for our actions, ones that we cannot fully eliminate.” Blythe said. “There will be resistance from the final death throes of our political opponents. But the equality of our Fertile Plains is well worth the risk. In short, if we want the story of 3242, the cycle the Equalists came to power, to be of triumph and unification, we must redirect the resources of Alönia toward new horizons. For this reason, I am implementing two new directives. First, we must absorb the resources of our wealthier districts in favor of those in need. I have crafted legislation that I will propose and implement in the next season for just such a purpose. Second, I will encourage peace amongst our neighbors with a gesture of good faith. I intend to is
sue a speaker’s order for the immediate deconstruction of our forward fleet groups. Peace and unification are impossible when we hold a gun in our hands.” The crowd started cheering again, but Blythe shouted over the top of them. “We are only moments from our new cycle. And when the sun rises tomorrow, it will rise to a new era of Alönian history.”

  The people went wild as the clock struck midnight and the cycle of the Fertile Plains restarted. David did not partake in the revelry; he couldn’t. As the people cheered around him, he slipped out of the dining room, walking down golden halls and plush carpets until he found the washroom. He turned on the sink and leaned over it as he felt bile rise in his stomach, but a few splashes of water soon set him right.

  David wondered as he leaned over the sink. What on earth were they thinking? It was one thing to slow the expansion of the armada, but to deconstruct more than 75% of it, and that 75% representing the newer, more-sophisticated airships. That was a level of vulnerability Alönia had never known before. A gesture of good faith? The sentiment seemed honorable, but perhaps misguided and untimely. A strong armada had guided them through 60 cycles of peace. Should they change a successful strategy? Again, David recalled what he had heard several seasons earlier when he stalked Speaker Walker’s residence. Viörn and Berg were both massing their armadas along the Armstad borders. Perhaps it was a defensive move, but what if it wasn’t? What would be the outcome of a war with a defenseless Alönia?

  The common decency of man versus the natural depravity. That was the central difference between Equalists and Pragmatics. At the core, every conflict between the two political parties grew out of a differing perspective on mankind’s basic nature. Either the Viörn and Berg were simply building fleets out of fear, or they were preparing for the conquest of the Fertile Plains. Decency or depravity? David still clung to the common decency perspective, but it had been quite some time since he’d seen common decency.

  He looked in the mirror, the only surface of the room that was not gold or silver, and he gazed at the man he’d become. His breath caught in his throat as he slid a finger down the lapel of his midnight blue suit; the very suit a beautiful young lady had bought him earlier that cycle. He could afford new suits after Blythe’s elevation to the speakership, but this one would always be his favorite.

  Mercy, oh how he missed her. That wound would not heal, not as long as her killer still lived and ruled Alönia. But it had been a cycle and a half since he’d reached out to the Man in the Shadows or at least attempted to do so. He sighed. His attempt to communicate had always been a fool’s hope, a fool’s hope in a man that might not even exist. No, he stood alone. A man without a country or a friend or a cause. A man betrayed. A man who hoped in false hope. He would remain alone as he watched the sun set on Alönian history, powerless to do anything about it. He rinsed his face in the sink one more time, using his real fingers to massage his temples.

  Merciful Jeshua, if you’re out there, we could use your help right about now.

  As he walked back toward the dining room and the general sound of frivolity, he found himself walking past the entrance. He wasn’t ready to rejoin the others; he wasn’t ready to resume his false face, not yet. He could spare a few more minutes.

  He followed the hallway along the outside of the mansion, not caring where it led, as long as it was away from Blythe and his flatterers. The hall deposited him into the gardens overlooking Fisherman’s Gulf. He took a deep, soothing breath of the fresh, salty air. No stars shone this evening, and the moon gave only a dull glow from beneath the clouds. Crisp air wafted by as he meandered through the hand-carved shrubberies, many of them dormant, waiting for the golden days to coax them back into life and vigor. And, as surely as the new cycle began, so too did the mists of Úoi Season start to churn and coalesce, drifting in on the ocean breeze.

  David knew he should be heading back to the party, but he convinced himself that a few additional minutes couldn’t hurt, and the garden attracted him. He passed fruit trees and spice gardens, cutting beds, and water features. A pair of double-winged owls swooped and dove in a romantic air dance as they crossed the evening sky. At some point along the way, David passed one row of hedges into another exiting the glow of the mansion’s lights into dense shadow. The change eluded him. He walked on, lost in his thoughts, and did not rouse until he heard the sharp snap of a twig. He whirled around, looking into the shadows and seeing nothing. His neck prickled with anxiety, and he searched the shadows with careful eyes. But there was nothing. Just as he decided it might be best to return to the house, a shadow passed in front of him and a spray of aerosol hissed in his face. David opened his mouth to yell, but no sound came out. His eyes felt hooded and his body, weightless. Lightheadedness passed over him as his knees buckled. Then the shadows closed in, and all went silent.

  ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS

  David regained consciousness and struggled as he pieced together what was going on. Darkness surrounded him, and he could hear his panicked breath echoing off some unseen walls. He squirmed and kicked on a wooden chair, but his hands and feet were tied. He called out, but no one answered. Calming himself with long slow breaths, he considered his options. He tried wiggling his wrists out of the knots, but it was useless. He only succeeded in rubbing his skin raw. Perhaps, if he tipped his chair over, he might be able to wriggle his hands in front of him so that he could loosen the knots with his teeth. He was about to try when something behind him clicked. A shaft of light speared out from behind him and illuminated the five-stride circular room. Several people entered by the sound of the shuffling feet, and then the shaft of light narrowed and disappeared with another click. David sucked in a breath. He could still hear the people in the room, their breaths, and the shuffling of their feet. Then, a single light bulb illumined above him. He heard a few whispers and a muffled assent. He couldn’t help but wonder if this is the way Paula, Samantha, and Mercy’s interrogations began. Had his turn finally arrived? Had Blythe suspected his disloyalty and ordered his elimination… via torture?

  “So, David, how was the party?” A voice said from behind him.

  It wasn’t Mr. Blythe’s voice. David worked his shoulders back and forth, craning his neck, but he couldn’t see who was addressing him.

  “Um… Fancy.” David said.

  “That’s all? Just, fancy?”

  “I don’t think you kidnaped me to ask me if I enjoyed the gala. What do you want with me?”

  “My, but you are blunt. To business then. We want to know what you think of Speaker Blythe?”

  David wasn’t sure how to answer or if it even mattered. Was his fate already decided? “He’s my boss, gave me my first job. Why, what do you think of him?”

  “Well,” the man said, “I think he’s a criminal. I know of two murders in this cycle alone. Not to mention his financial fraud.” he sighed. “Not very good boss material, wouldn’t you agree?”

  David’s mind raced. Was he goading him? Trying to prod him into betraying his true feelings about Blythe. Was this a test? Or, was the man in earnest? He started to wonder if this interrogation had any connection with Blythe. Was this someone else? “Who… Who are you, and which murders are you speaking of?”

  The man didn’t answer for a moment. Then David heard footsteps echo on concrete, and a tall man in a knee-length leather jacket walked around and stood in front of him. The light hung low in the room, so shadows still obscured the man’s face. “I’ve gone by many names, but the one you gave me is the best of all. I even scare myself sometimes. You see, I’m the Man-in-the-shadows.”

  David’s mouth fell open, but he quickly shut it. Had he ever told Mr. Blythe about the Man-in-the-shadows? Had he ever told anyone?

  “Who told you that name?”

  “Mercy did.”

  “Mercy!” David said, his stiffening limbs almost knocking him over.

  “Yes, I thought that might get a reaction out of you. Mercy was one of ours. We inserted her into Blythe’s office after his b
id for power.”

  “Inserted her? How? I was there at her interview, and she came directly from Representative Herald’s office where she had a two-cycle record?”

  “Come now, David, you’re a smart lad, you should be able to work it out.”

  David tried to calm himself so he could think, but his racing heart made that problematic. “If— If she was with you from the beginning, that means you placed her in Representative Herald’s campaign two cycles ago. That would follow, as two cycles ago, Herald was the biggest threat to the Pragmatics.”

  The Man-in-the-shadows started to clap, the sound echoing around the room. “You see, now it all makes sense. Mercy was a gorgeous girl, and Blythe’s weakness for beautiful women was well known to us long before Ms. Samantha. We knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her or her résumé. We did have concerns about you, though. You’re a very bright young man. I’ve manipulated politics for cycles, and no one has ever foiled me, save you.”

  “She told you about the wall of questions at my apartment.” David let his head hang. He felt a twinge of betrayal poking at his heart.

  “She did. She told us many things about you. She told us you were a sincere, honorable young man deceived and entrapped by Mr. Blythe. She told us you were the son of a skilled airship captain, who was also the son of a skilled airship captain. It didn’t take us long to work out who you were after that. Isn’t that right, Mr. Ike.” The man leaned forward a little bit, just enough for David to see the sparkle of his eyes in the shadows. It made him feel uncomfortable like someone was peeling back the layers of his past.

  “At long last, the only living heir of the Ike legend, the grandson of the great Admiral Ike, reemerges, and in the most peculiar of places. What a strange life we live.”

  David Gulped. These people knew who he was, who he actually was. After so many cycles of keeping it secret, they knew.