Eutopia - Apocalypse

Chapter 9

‘No one leaves the Elite,’ Jinn said, quietly. ‘It’s not something you can choose to do or not to do and it’s a privilege you should wear with pride. I have to admit I was most upset when I found your name in the file on this case, Horace. You always were one of my most trusted informants.’

Horace could only shake his head again, laying his hand wordlessly on the top of Phoibe’s steel-grey hair that was now loose around her shoulders like a heavy mantle, bending to take her in his arms.

‘Can you see how this would never have happened if you’d brought me this information in the first place? You are responsible for this girl’s death, not me or mine.’ He turned from the two crumpled, broken figures at his feet and traced a path from the door to the back wall in five easy paces, causing a tatty old tapestry of a sunflower that had been hung up from one wall in an attempt to brighten the small room to sway with the air he stirred. ‘Don’t be the father of more death, Horace. Tell me what it is I need to know.’

‘We will tell you nothing,’ Phoibe sneered through her tears as she lifted her head, her hard features twisted with raw, indescribably grief as her hands tore at her hair. ‘Nothing!’

‘Oh. I do think you will tell me something, at some point anyway. I still hold the boy.’

Jinn left upon the crest of a wave of abuse flung at him by Phoibe, his never-aging movement too swift for Horace’s rheumatic, aged limbs as he rushed at the Commander again, this time with his fists.

‘He has… put aside… the girl?’

Gabriel nodded once, a slow and ponderous movement as his eyes followed Michael, who stood up from the great table in the War Room. Michael sighed a sound of pronounced relief.

‘There’s more to this than you’re telling me, is there not?’ Gabriel’s warm, brown eyes were curious as he watched Michael gazing out of the window, who’s golden hair, cropped short and militant, glowed around his head like a halo in the afternoon sun. Michael clasped his hands loosely behind his broad back, his shoulders set.

Gabriel stroked his smooth top lip and watched, unmoving. ‘More than just your fear that Jinn was falling for the girl, again,’ he noted.

‘There is tell of a child, a fatherless child who will lead the revolution in the belief there is a better life for them, free from our rule.’

‘That could be any number of the children in our keeping,’ Gabriel said.

Michael nodded and turned from the window, letting the warm sun bathe his back and throw his hauntingly beautiful features into start relief. His clear golden eyes, as bright and warm as honey, fixed Gabriel as he slouched in his chair.

‘There are not many plotting against us though. No one would dare.’

‘You’ve known about this, I see.’ Something dawned upon him. ‘Ah. Jinn has been watching them.’ Michael strode purposefully to the table, pulling the files that lay open upon the polished wood towards himself. He lent over the paperwork and scanned the handwritten reports for the last, numerous time.

‘I’ve had my suspicions, coupled with the information we’ve had through Athena, which Petra has updated Jinn with. We had little cause to believe otherwise. Has he made any progress yet?’

                ‘Not as far as I’m aware. Where is Athena now, if Jinn is in the Wolds?’

                ‘With Jinn. At least, on the way to Jinn.’ Michael smirked and Gabriel caught the timeless mirth in his strikingly exquisite eyes.

                ‘And Operation Mortam?’

                Michael’s booming laugh reverberated through the War Room, bouncing off the red painted walls and the rich, bare floorboards.

                ‘It’s coming along nicely, Gabriel. Growing in numbers certainly. We have a lot to thank Fairways for indeed. The Elitists are proving to be… more than useful.’ He clapped the thinner man on the back, gripping his shoulder as he beamed brightly. ‘At the rate Jinn’s going, we won’t need him to discover what is going on after all. The army is almost complete. We will own the earth.’

                Gabriel grinned, his brown eyes catching alight with Michael’s joy that he found infectious. ‘We will be seated in our rightful place soon enough.’