no fear of being alone, no qualms about using a gun, and no respect for anyone, including the Brother himself, which made him perfectly placed to live in the dishevelled hut close to the East Gate and to keep tabs on what went on.
The truth was that no one ever breached the City walls without the City’s consent. The ‘Evils’ used to be brought to the City walls every so often to instil fear in those who lived within them, but they were no real threat; they were simply the brain-damaged casualties of attempted brain surgery, captives of the City, treated like animals in camps a short drive away from the City walls, brought out every so often to scream and moan and remind the City’s inhabitants how lucky they were to live inside its walls.
Now the Damaged Ones were being cared for properly, not worked to the ground, and lived peacefully away from the City that had destroyed them. The only new people who passed through the City’s gates were prospective citizens, attracted by the rumours, some true, some not, of overflowing clean water, plentiful food and decent shelter, a place where people were good, where there was order. But the Great Leader had stopped his botched experiments a few years before; now that there was no need to experiment on people, to mutilate them, the hopeful immigrants had been turned away, back to the barren lands they had come from. What the wall patrol had really been charged with was stopping the City’s inhabitants trying to leave, preventing them from getting outside the City, from seeing the outside for themselves. Only by encouraging fear of what lay beyond the walls could the Brother hope to impose his totalitarian regime, and that meant creating a prison from which no one could escape.
It had been one of Lucas’s first commitments, to open the gates, to let people see the world for themselves. But caution had led him to delay; fear that City citizens weren’t ready. And then the Disappearances had changed everything. With the Disappearances went any thoughts he had had of opening the gates.
‘Rab,’ Lucas called out. He didn’t like the East Gatekeeper, but there were questions he needed to ask before he left the City, answers that he wouldn’t leave without. Moments later, the man appeared. Twenty years ago Rab had been one of the people queuing outside, begging for a chance to enter the City, agreeing, as all prospective citizens did, to have the New Baptism to remove the ‘evil’ amygdala from his brain, little knowing that the operation would leave him not free from bad thoughts, but completely brain-dead. By chance, the Brother had happened upon him in a waiting room at the hospital, fighting with another prospective patient, and had declared him incapable of salvation. It was on the way back to the City wall that Rab had begged and pleaded, offered to do anything in order to stay. And the Brother had seen in him a desperation, an anger, a self-destructiveness that he realised he could use; had agreed to let him undergo the operation after all, had inserted a chip into his head and sent him out to work for him. He had told Lucas the story proudly, the day he first took him to meet Rab. Back then, Lucas was the Brother’s golden boy, the person he trusted more than anyone else. Back then, he spoke the truth, believing that Lucas worshipped him, that he saw the world as the Brother did, as many means to one end: power.
But now things were different.
‘You came then?’ Rab looked at him suspiciously. ‘I’ve been waiting.’
Lucas stared at him. ‘You have?’
‘The flies. You’ve come to see them?’
Lucas looked at him uncertainly. ‘Flies?’
‘Yes,’ Rab said, his eyes narrowing as they flickered over to Clara. He rarely spoke; Lucas had barely heard him say one word in the years he had known him. Instead he preferred to grunt if he accepted an order, or to shoot a look of disdain if he didn’t. He looked back at Lucas, fixing him with a stare.
The truth was that no one ever breached the City walls without the City’s consent. The ‘Evils’ used to be brought to the City walls every so often to instil fear in those who lived within them, but they were no real threat; they were simply the brain-damaged casualties of attempted brain surgery, captives of the City, treated like animals in camps a short drive away from the City walls, brought out every so often to scream and moan and remind the City’s inhabitants how lucky they were to live inside its walls.
Now the Damaged Ones were being cared for properly, not worked to the ground, and lived peacefully away from the City that had destroyed them. The only new people who passed through the City’s gates were prospective citizens, attracted by the rumours, some true, some not, of overflowing clean water, plentiful food and decent shelter, a place where people were good, where there was order. But the Great Leader had stopped his botched experiments a few years before; now that there was no need to experiment on people, to mutilate them, the hopeful immigrants had been turned away, back to the barren lands they had come from. What the wall patrol had really been charged with was stopping the City’s inhabitants trying to leave, preventing them from getting outside the City, from seeing the outside for themselves. Only by encouraging fear of what lay beyond the walls could the Brother hope to impose his totalitarian regime, and that meant creating a prison from which no one could escape.
It had been one of Lucas’s first commitments, to open the gates, to let people see the world for themselves. But caution had led him to delay; fear that City citizens weren’t ready. And then the Disappearances had changed everything. With the Disappearances went any thoughts he had had of opening the gates.
‘Rab,’ Lucas called out. He didn’t like the East Gatekeeper, but there were questions he needed to ask before he left the City, answers that he wouldn’t leave without. Moments later, the man appeared. Twenty years ago Rab had been one of the people queuing outside, begging for a chance to enter the City, agreeing, as all prospective citizens did, to have the New Baptism to remove the ‘evil’ amygdala from his brain, little knowing that the operation would leave him not free from bad thoughts, but completely brain-dead. By chance, the Brother had happened upon him in a waiting room at the hospital, fighting with another prospective patient, and had declared him incapable of salvation. It was on the way back to the City wall that Rab had begged and pleaded, offered to do anything in order to stay. And the Brother had seen in him a desperation, an anger, a self-destructiveness that he realised he could use; had agreed to let him undergo the operation after all, had inserted a chip into his head and sent him out to work for him. He had told Lucas the story proudly, the day he first took him to meet Rab. Back then, Lucas was the Brother’s golden boy, the person he trusted more than anyone else. Back then, he spoke the truth, believing that Lucas worshipped him, that he saw the world as the Brother did, as many means to one end: power.
But now things were different.
‘You came then?’ Rab looked at him suspiciously. ‘I’ve been waiting.’
Lucas stared at him. ‘You have?’
‘The flies. You’ve come to see them?’
Lucas looked at him uncertainly. ‘Flies?’
‘Yes,’ Rab said, his eyes narrowing as they flickered over to Clara. He rarely spoke; Lucas had barely heard him say one word in the years he had known him. Instead he preferred to grunt if he accepted an order, or to shoot a look of disdain if he didn’t. He looked back at Lucas, fixing him with a stare.
Similar Books
