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Since Xavier's success in the Games some months
ago, he was coordinating an increasing group of droids and people in their
efforts to counter the A.D League's growing aggression. For some time there
had been a plan to make an expedition into the Fusodrome; however in the
last few years the Government had greatly fortified its perimeter. A large
number of droids lived and worked within the confines of the Complex and
the A.D. League would be counting on their passivity in any attack. There
were rumours however that the Government had reprogrammed some droids in
an aggressive mode, or had bred a new strain to help defend the Complex,
but Xavier's intelligence from around the Capital could not confirm this.
Apparently in a minor skirmish with the League, some droids had 'reverted'
under the influence of stun-guns and had gone completely berserk. Xavier
needed to know for sure about the rumour. What he was hoping for was that
many of the droids would be persuaded by his ideas or impressed enough by
his status to join him in defending the Complex from any attack by the League.
Xavier and his followers, with the backing of Marinima and the Commune,
were in the difficult position of wanting to work with the Government in
its aims of safeguarding the Fusodrome. The Government was very hostile
to Marinima however, and even if it could tolerate his Commune, it could
not risk antagonizing the reactionary elements in supporting the droids
and their leader, the semi-outlawed cult figure that Xavier had become.
As the plans for the expedition were shaping up, Noel suggested to Xavier
that he should teach him some fighting skills. Xavier held regular training
sessions and was delighted that Noel should want to join in. In a yard surrounded
by the tall tenements of their block Xavier trained his friends and followers
in the skills of combat used in the Games and in the street. The whole block,
all four quadrants, was now occupied with Xavier's sympathisers, human and
droid. In the well formed by the building at its centre they could practice
in complete secrecy.
Noel learned rapidly. The resolve which had been growing in him since the
day George disguised him as a man and sent him into the Poets Quarter had
hardened to the point where learning the arts of self-defence and even attack
was no longer repulsive to him. After a few weeks of training Noel was surprised
to find that the motions of attack, block, and counter-attack that he practised
during the day now preoccupied him in his dreams. Sometimes he would dream
of the overseer in the car park at the factory and in the dream Noel would
be fighting him.
Noel discussed this one evening with Xavier.
"I went through a similar transition," said Xavier, "when
I learned to defend myself. I can't say that I remember dreaming about it
though. One thing that made a big difference was being with Prunella. I
found I was becoming a more dangerous person." Xavier grinned at the
thought.
This lead them to talk a little about Xavier and Prunella's relationship.
Noel was interested in what he had to say, as it was very rare that Xavier
would talk about such things. The mutual discipline of teacher and student
in the martial arts had brought them closer and perhaps this made Xavier
a little more expansive than usual.
"In the early days I always expected to lose her to a human. I couldn't
imagine that it would last. But we are so settled now together that it would
be very strange without her." He shook his head.
"Obviously I can't offer her everything that a human could. I can give
her pleasure though; you know what I mean?"
Noel had only the vaguest idea, but he nodded none the less.
A letter from Roger Badcock arrived during Noel's training, asking Noel
if he could take up the offer of a visit to the Quarter. Noel discussed
it with Xavier, who agreed to the visit, and a confirmation was sent to
Roger with instructions to accompany the next droid group returning from
the Commune. Roger arrived a few weeks later, and was found a room in the
little community. He mentioned to Noel that he had taken up martial arts
years ago, and with Xavier's agreement he joined their training programme.
Roger was soon accepted by the group and came to work closely with the droid
Steven, who was responsible for day-to-day security matters. Steven found
Roger useful for trips into the City that could not safely be carried out
by droids.
In this period the visions of the sea that Noel had experienced in the Commune
started to return to his dreams. Noel kept thinking of the boat that he
had seen being built in the cavern when he had accompanied George on holiday;
he knew there was a connection.
Plans for the expedition continued to develop. They were going to break
into the Fusodrome at a point on the perimeter that lay close to Poets Quarter;
it was the least well-guarded because of its proximity to habitation. On
the other side of the Fusodrome lay the semi-desert that lead to the mountains
and it was from this side that attack from the League was expected. A droid
friend working in the power stations would deactivate alarms for a brief
period allowing Xavier and his droids to enter; they would stay several
days, for once inside, the labyrinth of technical complexes and droid mess-halls
would afford them places to hide. They planned to leave by the radioactive
water-discharge conduit. This was a large concrete tunnel which discharged
storage tank water into the desert once a month.
One day as preparations were being completed for the expedition Xavier called
up to Noel in the apartment.
"Hey Noel, there is a friend of ours here."
Noel could not make out who it was from the balcony of the apartment. Thinking
it might be another of the people he had met at the Commune, Noel came down
to meet him. As he came out of the stairway into the bright sunshine of
the courtyard Noel saw that it was George. Quite overcome, Noel ran to him
and hugged him so vigorously that George protested.
"Sorry, sorry," said Noel grinning in delight. George himself
had a grin on his weather-beaten but now increasingly cynical features.
"So how are you, Competition?"
Noel laughed at the memory of their first encounter over the display screen.
"Irrelevant and irreverent as usual," joked Noel.
"I don't know what you two are talking about," complained Xavier
good-humoredly.
At that moment Prunella rushed across the yard and also flung herself on
George.
"George!" she cried, practically strangling him with her embraces.
"Prune, really, you are all too much," said George, his moustache
twitching. He tried to hide his embarrassment by adopting a frown, but the
sparkle in his eyes showed his emotion.
"How about something to eat?" asked Xavier.
"Sure," said George.
Xavier shouted some instructions to a droid who was working on the trucks.
He nodded. Arm in arm the four of them strolled out of the yard and walked
like this the few blocks to the old cafe.
"My God," said George, "I never expected to see this place
again. Do they still serve that terrible coffee?"
"Good Lord no," said Xavier. "Its much worse now."
Laughing, they stood at the counter of the cafe, still with their arms around
each other's waists, waiting for the proprietor. As he emerged from the
back door George said:
"So what kind of death by sandwich are you serving your victims these
days then?"
George had a soft hat pulled over his forehead and looked down at the counter.
"Hey now, who is this creep?" demanded the proprietor angrily
of Xavier.
"Same old creep who made you rich by drinking your disgusting coffee
Bertie," said George squinting up at the proprietor through his eyebrows.
A smile slowly crept over his face.
"Why you old dog!" Bertie exclaimed. "Where have you been
all these years? You still owe me for three breakfasts and a pint of milk."
"Bullshit!" said George staring him at him outraged.
Bertie wagged his head in delight and slowly stretched out his hand. George
shook it with great affection and broke into a smile.
Bertie served them all a huge lunch and came over to join them. The conversation
drifted around old times, the feelings of impending conflict, and the Commune.
In the middle of it all George pulled out a map of the Continent, and pointed
out the Capital and some of the larger cities in the South where he said
League forces were slowly building up. The Capital was situated along a
string of lakes that divided the Continent into its northern and southern
halves. Noel looked absently for the small town in the south where he had
worked before coming to the Capital, but the string of lakes dimly reminded
him of something and he couldn't concentrate. His mind kept drifting off
to the boat in the cavern and the images of the sea and this new piece of
information and how they might fit together. If the only way out was up,
then where did the sea fit in? Or was Marinima's interpretation of the little
phrase the correct one? Noel despaired.
"What's up Noel?" asked Prunella putting her arm around him. "You've
gone very quiet."
"He's probably about to have a prophetic vision," said George
sarcastically.
Noel nodded with a half-smile on his face.
"You could just be right," he said seriously.
"Ha, you are just the same as ever," said George. "A dreamer
and a poet our Noel. If it wasn't for all those men I hear you've killed
in single combat recently I would have said that you should become a hermit
like Francis."
They made fun in a good-natured way, and Noel put his thoughts to one side.
George was only with them for a few days, and at some considerable risk
to himself. George had a lot of news about the A.D.League. They were gaining
support across a wide spectrum of the population, and with increasing skill
in persuasion they were focusing the negativity and purposelessness of many
young people against the droids. One of their biggest obstacles in the propaganda
war with the Government seemed now to be Xavier and his greatly increased
popularity after the last Games. Although the Government could not openly
acknowledge Xavier it did not condemn him either. Anyone who was successful
in the Games was automatically a hero with the young, and even Xavier's
droidhood could not take that away from him. It was common knowledge that
Xavier had defeated a man put up by the League, and this reduced ADL credibility.
George also had news on the boat people as he called them; he had been keeping
in touch with them after the time he had met them with Noel. Some had already
left the Continent, but nothing was known of their fate. All the ancient
knowledge of sea- and air-manship had been so fiercely suppressed for the
last few centuries, that the vessels being built were of dubious sea-worthiness.
George had kept his promise of researching the ancient knowledge wherever
he could. His own cynical attitude to all factions fighting for support
on the Continent - including Marinima's - somehow meant that he was equally
trusted by all, and this often gave him access to restricted material.
Noel was further electrified by George's new information, but he hid the
turmoil of thoughts and feelings within him, and resolved to question him
as soon as possible. After a pleasant afternoon at Bertie's, by the end
of which Noel had relaxed, they showed George their preparations at base.
Noel had no time alone with George, and in the evening they went out to
eat again. As they returned home late at night they approached a group of
women chattering drunkenly on the other side of the street. Prunella was
the first to realise that they were prostitutes from their heavy makeup
and provocative dress, and stiffening, she looked the other way. As they
drew close one of them called out, pointedly addressing her remark to George:
"How's your third leg deary?"
Possibly because of his present company, and regretting it immediately,
George shouted back:
"I'm having it amputated!"
"Shame," cried one.
"One less customer," shouted another. They all laughed.
"Give it to me darling," said a young blonde, putting her head
to one side and pouting her lips into a kiss, several times.
George's group had passed them now. He looked over his shoulder.
"I'll send it to you in the post," he shouted, having decided
that he'd make the best of the conversation, now that it was underway.
"Yeah, special delivery," one of them said, and they fell about
laughing again.
"Noo..." said the blonde wiggling her hips. "Bring it round
in person."
They all screamed at this.
"Geraldine..," said one, imitating a cultured accent. They were
just in earshot as she tipsily completed her sentence: "You are too
dedicated to your work."
Faintly they heard the mournful reply:
"I married a Tin Can you know."
The raucous laughter followed them into the next street. Prunella and Noel
grinned in amusement, though Prunella also felt confused. George was dead-pan
as usual, and Xavier scowled, looking at Noel.
"They are making fun of us."
"Don't be so bloody paranoid," said George, but regretting his
remark again. Xavier remained in a bad humour for the rest of the way home,
and little was said, despite Noel's attempts at conversation. Noel knew
in an abstract sort of way why Xavier was angry, but could not feel for
him, and thought that they should not spoil the little time they had left
with George. At home Noel found no time to speak to George alone, and went
to bed finally, trying as he lay there to recapture the elation and sense
of import that George's words had given him earlier. The harder he tried
the less he could get to the root of his feelings and his premonitions.
In frustration he drifted off into sleep, and only awoke much later in the
night because of a sound in the room. It was Prunella walking past his bed
in her bare feet, looking anxious, as though she did not wish to be seen.
Noel paid her no attention, for she had awoken him to the feeling of an
unfolding revelation.
Noel lay in the little darkened room adjacent to the room where Xavier and
Prunella usually slept, vaguely aware of the pink glow from the reactors
that reflected in the sky over Poets Quarter and which faintly lit the room.
The image of the map they had looked at in the cafe returned to Noel and
at last the Continent's configuration brought to his mind some piece of
knowledge absorbed in Droid School: the line dividing north and south indicated
a geological fault. Geology and geography had long been subjects of little
importance with the Continent's inward looking attitude, but Noel had somehow
remembered this piece of information. He struggled to recall what this implied
- yes, a geological fault was caused by straining landmasses, and volcanoes
often appeared along them. The Capital then was located along such a fault
- and so were its power stations.
A jolt went through Noel's body, like the ones he had experienced on the
mountain-side by the Commune. The feelings of loss and anguish rushed back
again, taking over Noel's conscious mind. He was aware of nothing else but
the dimly perceived yet powerful unfolding of events beyond his present
time and situation. As though a witness to some real event he 'saw' a view
over the city. His chest contracted and his body tensed in shock as he felt
the first wave of a tremendous explosion: it came from the reactors of the
Fusodrome. In silent slow motion he felt the force of a multiple nuclear
blast; he saw the entire city vaporized. Gasping for air Noel could not
control the shaking of his body and the periodic spasms that passed through
it. He 'saw' an enormous fireball shooting into the air and then a darkness
fall as dust and ashes blocked out the sunlight. After the initial series
of blasts small explosions detonated around the countryside, lighting up
the darkness. Nothing seemed to change after that for a long time, yet Noel
was still gripped by the force of his prescience. He experienced an overwhelming
feeling of sadness and loss as he dimly made out the darkened and sterilized
landscape.
After what seemed like hours to Noel he became aware that the landscape
was changing. It was water. The sea was slowly rising and covering the land
he had known. Tears fell down Noel's face as he saw the water glowing with
unearthly colours. It seemed to sparkle with greens and reds as if it were
a living thing, and then the now familiar scene of sliding down towards
the water came back to him. Noel finally understood. The boat that he was
on slid into the sea and under the blackened sky he rode the luminous waters.
Somehow he knew that he was not alone, which comforted him slightly. In
his vision the darkness gradually lifted and he saw again the familiar brilliantly
grey-lit sea and felt its motion against the boat. After a long time the
vision slowly faded and eventually Noel became aware of Xavier holding his
hand in the dark room and looking at him intently. Noel could not bring
himself out of his trance and just stared at Xavier. Xavier pressed his
hand and said:
"Where are you Noel? Are you all right?"
Noel could not say anything, but returned the pressure on Xavier's hand.
Xavier smiled at him.
Noel felt dizzy and spent. Like a freak wave that would pick up a child
idly making sandcastles and hurl him against the shore, Noel's prescient
fit had taken him over and left him now somehow dislocated and out of context.
After a while Noel drifted back into sleep. Before he fell asleep he glanced
at Xavier's face and thought that he saw a distance that could only come
from some anguish of his own.
Next morning at breakfast both Xavier and Noel seemed withdrawn. Noel was
deeply tired, as he had been after his experience of the visions at the
Commune. Noel was dimly aware of Xavier's state of tension but was too exhausted
to talk. Xavier in turn was aware in some way of Noel's experience and felt
the impact himself of the terrible visions that Noel had received. Prunella
and George had a noticeable air of tenderness between them. Prunella told
George about Xavier's and Noel's antics over breakfast a few days ago.
"I've noticed it quite often with you two," she said. "You
often act as though you had planned things out before. But I think that
in some way you know each other's minds, don't you?"
"We're rogue droids alright," said Xavier.
"You are rogues, to be sure," said Prunella.
Xavier smiled and then looked down at the table.
"Good grief," grumbled George, "you'll be talking about telepathy
and clairvoyance next."
"Aah, I had this vision last night," began Noel as though cued
by George's remark. George burst out laughing. Noel pretended to sulk, making
Xavier and Prunella laugh too, though for different reasons.
Noel retired to his room. He had not yet come to terms with what he now
understood. All the little indications over the last few years of mental
disturbance had in fact been due to some bleeding into his mind of future
events. His mind had slowly prepared him to receive direct knowledge of
the future; gradually the pieces came together so that eventually he would
be able to withstand the shock of total prescience. He felt now as though
some terrible struggle were finished; like a pregnant woman he had finally
given birth and the waiting was over. What remained was to accept what he
now knew. But how could one know something with such terrible clarity, when
that thing must at all costs never happen?
George stayed on and Prunella did not hide the fact that she was sleeping
with him. Noel did not talk to anyone about his vision, though he knew that
Xavier had some idea of its nature. Xavier himself oscillated between good-humour
and a reserved coldness. Noel could feel the struggle going on inside him
about Prunella and George; when Xavier was in a good humour Prunella showed
him all her usual affection, but when he withdrew she made no attempt to
reach him. She was very concerned about Noel's state of exhaustion, which
continued for several days. He would tell her that it was no use her fussing
as his droid constitution was quite different to hers and all he needed
was some rest. One evening when the other two had gone out, George came
to visit Noel lying on his bed, still quite exhausted.
"What's eating you Noel, old friend?" asked George, lighting up
a cigarette. "You seem terribly tired these days, as though you had
gone through some awful experience."
Noel nodded, and then decided to talk about his revelation.
"I don't know how to tell you. A few nights ago I did experience something
like a vision of the future - it was far too clear to be a dream. Could
you somehow imagine that I really could see the future?"
"Why not," said George.
Noel turned to see whether he was being sarcastic, but George seemed to
be quite serious. Noel hesitated and then began.
"What I saw was this. The power stations - exploded," he told
George, speaking slowly and pausing between sentences.
"The blast ruptured the fault along which the power stations lie and
the Continent began to sink. You must understand - I only realised it after
looking at your map in the cafe that day - that the string of lakes dividing
north and south mean a geological fault, a weakness in the rockbed."
Noel could not go on for a while, but then continued:
"I have dreamed this scene now for years: I am on a boat surrounded
by grey seas, and feel this sensation of terrible loss. I could never understand
how it was that at first the boat would seem to slide down - a long slide
into the sea. And that little phrase - you must remember it - 'the only
way out is up'. It meant up into the mountains."
Noel became quite agitated now and said:
"I want to build a boat in the mountains by the Commune. I know that
it sounds crazy, but by the time the waters rise to that height the radiation
will maybe be low enough for us to venture out. It is the only possibility
for survival. I need your help."
George listed in silence. Noel's exhaustion combined with his gravity of
manner to make the story sound like a statement of fact. George looked out
of the window and pondered Noel's words. After a while he nodded.
"It makes a kind of sense, though I can't see how the Fusodrome could
be triggered off - we all know that it is virtually impossible," he
said. "Still - what do you want me to do?"
"Two things," whispered Noel. "Firstly I need all the information
you have on boat-building. Secondly I know that you have access to all kinds
of libraries. I want to take a selection of the Continent's most important
writings with us."
The first request George was expecting. The second caused his eyebrows to
rise.
"You really are crazy," he said softly.
Seeing that this made Noel look anxious, he nodded and said:
"Sure, sure. I will do what I can. I have copies of the marine technology
manuals I passed on to the boat people. As for the rest I have a fair personal
collection anyway." He pondered. "Actually it would be very interesting
to select writings that represented the Continent through its history."
"Thank you George. I'm relieved. Do you think that you might join us
in the mountains if things start to go badly?"
George shook his head.
"To be honest, while I accept that what you say could come about, I
think the probability of it is very small. And with all respect, there would
be enormous difficulties to overcome in building a boat in the mountains:
it's hard enough in the coastal regions. Besides that I really can't stomach
Marinima. Or rather his followers."
George smiled at Noel. Noel smiled back and said:
"Thanks again, George. I know that I can rely on you."
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