three days

ventilate

The domes of the Equivicol shone brightly against the noonday light, a glimmering beacon of stability snuggled into the horizon between brothels and murder tents. From somewhere below were the chants of the Paige Guard as they ran their patrols, the sound of stun sticks and children echoing through the alleyways up to his open window.
It had been three days since he had arrived in West Adria. Three days since he had last seen Tethriel carried off by the Seeker mobs. He still wondered if even now the poor boy sat wasting in one of their cells, awaiting whatever tortures the masses have clung to in the face of the Magnates subjugation. The boy had been an asset, that was never in doubt. But he was a casualty that had been foreseen and almost welcomed as the last days had come ever closer. Better to perish now than to witness the horrors of the remaking of the world.
The small room was equipped only with the necessities, both governmental and personal. A bed, a table, one chair, and of course the prerequisite camera and vid feed. A reporter droned in the background, singing the glories of the Magnate and his recent administrative visit to the Cormanian Boundary to deal with the Nomad issue. The roar of the supplicant crowd almost completely drowned out the low howl of the incoming shells in the background. Somewhere overhead an airship announced another victory in Irktuska, the quiet calamity of the Magnate’s voice followed, thanking his constituents for the opportunity to serve them in this glorious cause.
He went back to the window and sat at the table, gazing at the dome, and the sea beyond. The night before he had ordered a bottle of spirits and had drank most of it. He poured the last draught in his glass and swallowed it in one drink. He wondered what she would think if she was here, if she could share in his liquid banquet of discontent. She would probably smile and finger the trigger of her gun, thinking fondly of the days gone by when they drank to celebrate, not to grieve. He felt the hilt of the knife to his side, concealed by a worn cotton cloth that hung from his waist. It wouldn’t surprise him if she were there somewhere, walking the alleys below, stalking him, waiting for him.
Loudly, the vid screen beeped, an incoming message already displaying on the silver-blue screen.
WE HAVE THE BOOK. IT IS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME NOW. PROCEED AS INSTRUCTED. MORE TO FOLLOW.
Smiling, he set down the glass. At least Ariel was still alive, still wandering the wastes to the west. It had been two years since he had seen her face, these messages his only correspondence. No hello, no how’s it going, always the plan. She did tell in detail of her detainment in the northern tower about 4 months ago, told of Michael’s warning to him. That was the longest, still only about the length of a paragraph. Jonas was with her though, the witless fool. He wonders if Jonas still knows nothing of the plan, nothing of their true purpose. The knife whistled at his side, as if tuning in to his thoughts.
The bells of the Equivicol marked midday, the hollow sound bouncing off the arcology walls into his open window. Beyond the transparent wall another airship, one of the military cruisers, opened fire into the open sea causing a ripple of fire and smoke. From below the water a black shape emerged and the airship fired again, this time causing an explosion that eclipsed the black shape entirely, and then it was gone. The airship made an exaggerated figure eight and was joined by another before both flying off into the western sky.
Another victory for the Commonwealth. Another step on the road to the end.
He hadn’t packed that much, the sum of his belongings arranged neatly on the unused bed. A change of clothes, an automatic pistol, a black box to protect the ammunition, and a satchel overflowing with yellowing parchment. He walked to them now and gathered them up in the rust colored satchel that hung from his shoulder to his waist. In the corner of the room a rat smiled up at him before making its way under the pale green carpet to its fabulous subterranean home. There were still some creatures that thrived in this world, and that thought lingered in him as he opened the door to the fermented hallway that had welcomed him three days before. Three days from now the hallway would more than likely not be there anymore, and that thought, more than anything else, was the one that made him smile.