2015
Now that Ursola has broken the silence, she sees it everywhere. Wonders how she could have been so blind for so long. But then, so is everyone around her. Changes happen so slowly you don’t really see how different it has become until you stop to look. You’re like a lobster, boiling up slowly in a pot. There have been no new arrivals since Jaivyn Blake left; no new eyes through which to see the limitations of their world.
The Guards are everywhere. She remembers, like waking from a dream, how Plas Golau used to be before he arrived. We were equals then, she thinks. The world was going to end, but we were going to build a better one. There were rules, of course, lots of them, but you could see the intent behind them. They were about discipline, yes, but discipline based on trust. On mutual trust. Lucien trusted us and we trusted him. And if there was discipline, it was about survival, not ... subjection.
She sees it everywhere, now. The silent war between Vita and Uri, and Lucien barely to be seen any more.
On Eden’s birthday, three big trucks appear on the drive, breaking branches with their roofs as they go, carrying away a whole section of the drystone wall as they turn into the orchard. And Uri calls the Farmers in from the fields to the godowns and orders them to load them up with their carefully husbanded supplies. Somer stands and watches as sack after sack of wheat and chickpeas and potato flour, whole pallets of bottled, preserved, dried, tinned produce, their insurance against the end of the world, make their way from the shelves to the hoists as the brigade of Guards stands by and urges the labour to hurry.
The Cooks come from the kitchens, the Blacksmiths and the Engineers from the workshops, the Carpenters, the Launderers, the Dung Squad, the Teachers. And they gather to watch, aghast. This is too much, they whisper. We can’t afford to give so much. There will barely be enough to see us through the winter. What will we do, if the Great Disaster comes before we replenish?
But nobody says a word out loud. The Guards have batons and everyone knows how easy they find it to use them.
Then Vita’s there, hurrying out of the courtyard gate. ‘What are you doing?’ she shouts.
‘Needed at Cairngorm,’ he says.
‘On whose authority?’
‘On mine.’
‘Not on mine.’
‘Ah, well,’ he says, ‘if you want to ask Father ...’
‘I will,’ she says. ‘You can’t just—’
‘I can, you know,’ he says. ‘We’re bigger now, and we need to feed the people there.’
‘Just wait,’ she says. ‘Don’t you dare leave with all that. I shall go and ask him now.’
‘Help yourself,’ says Uri.
Vita hurries away, and he stands, arms folded, and smiles as they watch her go.
She doesn’t return.
An emergency Pooling in the evening, all the leaders in the Council Chamber, protesting. Too late, of course. The trucks have long since headed north. But they gather anyway, and shout. What have you done? What have you done to us? How will we live? How will we survive?
Uri stands in front of them, arms across his chest, and waits. He doesn’t seem afraid, or even ashamed. He just waits. And when they finish shouting he says, ‘Are you done?’ and they shuffle and glare, but nobody speaks. ‘Good,’ he says. ‘You need to learn some discipline.’
Discipline. Discipline.
‘But how are we to feed ourselves?’ asks the Leader of the Cooks. ‘What good is discipline if we starve?’
‘Stop gorging,’ says Uri, ‘and remember that you’re not the only ones on Earth.’
‘But that’s our food!’ cries the Leader of the Farmers. His face is leathery after years of hillside labour, and he’s missing two fingers from his right hand.
‘And you’ll grow more,’ says Uri.
‘But what about the Great Disaster?’ asks the Leader of the Engineers.
Uri shakes his head. ‘We all have to make sacrifices,’ he says. ‘You’ll just have to hope it doesn’t come till you’re done. Why should Cairngorm die and you survive?’
‘We’ve always been here,’ says the Cook. ‘Always. If Cairngorm can’t be self-supporting, then what’s the use of it?’
‘It will be. But it takes time to establish a place like this. You know that. We’ve too many eggs in a single basket,’ says Uri. ‘Two locations is safer than one. A greater chance for humanity.’
‘But Lucien!’ cries the Engineer. ‘This wasn’t what Lucien—’
‘It’s what he wants now,’ Uri snaps.
An intake of breath, an outbreak of muttering.
Somer finally finds her voice. ‘But how can there be two places?’ she asks. ‘What about the One?’
The smile he gives her sucks the heat from her bones. ‘I guess you’ll have to hope you’re the lucky ones. I’m not going anywhere. For now.’
Vita sits silent at the back of the room, and waits.
When he’s gone, they turn to her. Start to babble out their fears. What’s happened? they cry. What has Father done to us? He is too strong. How did he get so strong? Where is Father? Where is he? Why has he betrayed us?
She stands. Clasps her hands together, low on her body.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I’ve let you down. An adder has entered our garden and we must tread carefully.’
‘It’s all over,’ says the Cook. ‘If he’s in charge, we will never survive.’
Vita smiles. ‘Oh, children,’ she says, ‘you must trust me more than that.’