2 - The Evangelic Her scar itched infuriatingly, as it always did at times of seriousness and import.

The tingle traced up and down her left jawbone and Tess wanted nothing more than to give it a good scratch with her fingernail. She felt her hand willing itself to provide relief, but she kept it still, resting on her lap. She didnt want to disturb her make-up, so infrequently applied, it would be a shame to ruin it - and besides, she didnt want to disturb the still solemnity of the Aramus ceremony in the flickering dimness of the immense, candle-lit cathedral. Tess wasnt a religious person, but she understood and agreed with traditions such as these, which bound Union society together, she thought. She let her mind wander from the Bishops long sermon. The cathedral was thankfully cool, the ancient stones soaking the stifling heat of the spring evening outside. She thought about Jyan, stood up upon the apse behind the Bishop, facing Tess and the rest of the congregation. She looked as if she would rather be anywhere else. Her old joints would be aching and sore, as she would undoubtably complain to Tess about later. After five years as her personal assistant, Tess still struggled to understand many of her aspects, but they all boiled down to her wholly negative outlook on life. When Representations had given her the assignment, she had been elated: the greatest engineer of her generation - what an honour! Her elation quickly soured as she realised Jyan resented almost everything about her life. She didnt care about being a figurehead to the citizens of the Continent, she had no interest in promoting the Union as the force of progress it undoubtably was. There she stood: facing the great and good of the Union, the very people who ran the continent - and she was almost openly contemptuous. Jyan frustrated, confused and annoyed Tess in equal measures. Still, she thought, after this, its over. Im gone. Her bags were aboard the flyer already, after the service she would be dropped at Majandor on the flight back to Jyans estate. She couldnt repress a small smile. The Bishop stopped his droning and introduced Jyan Farahe, master engineer of the J-Town arcologies, mother saviour of the Ebrycians. The cathedral was silent, expectant. She spoke. Her voice was soft and weak in her old age, but the microphone

caught it and amplified it out of speakers fixed high in the stonework, My good people of the congregation, I thank you all for inviting me to this hallowed gathering, and the choristers here... such melodious and true renditions. Jyan looked up from her lectern to the congregation and smiled. Today we celebrate Aramus, a day for giving, for understanding and for family. Today, I will speak of sacrifice. On this day, and for all days, we must never forget the sacrifices that those have made before us, sacrifices that mean we can sit here today in peace, with prosperity and with happiness and hope in our hearts. Tess knew the speech almost by heart, and couldnt help feel a surge of pride that it was mostly her words that were being spoken. Sometimes, Jyan would leave the script and pepper the speeches with extraneous, embellished details, to liven things up a bit - one of the many small annoyances Tess had put up with. Today, Jyan kept to the script, a hazy story from Jyans days in the Legion before the fall. Much of it had been twisted and changed to fit the obvious allegories required at times like these. Eventually, the whole thing was over and Tess found herself hurrying behind Jyan down a narrow stone ambulatory, the walls barely a shoulder-width apart. Stone angels looked down on them, their faces worn and featureless. The flyers engines were already spinning by the time they got out of the cathedral, sending clouds of dry, brown earth up from the ground. Jyan made her way up the boarding ramp, slowly, batting away any attempts to help her up. I thought you made your speech very well, if I might say. Tess said, once they were in the cabin. You might. My speech is much the same as it is every year, just different words. I get bored. She sat, and buckled herself in with deliberate care. Tess did her own belt. Shes still scared of flying after all these years and no wonder. Does life still seem a great adventure to you? Jyan asked. Tess wasnt sure how to answer. Sometimes... less than it used to, I think. Well, now youre leaving perhaps you will have an adventure.

Well - I dont blame you, Jyan cut in, I quite enjoy getting new assistants. Jyan gave Tess a strange sort of look. The engines roared and the ground fell away. Out of the window, Tess saw the deep red glow of the sun just gone down. It would be late by the time she arrived at Majandor. Tess felt a surge of elation and when the steward came for drinks, she ordered a glass of Red. It quickly sent her to sleep. *** The worried stewards conferred between themselves before approaching Tess. They didnt want to wake Jyan - she was notoriously prickly, so instead the informed her assistant, Tess. She could take the flack if there was any. So they told her, rousing her from her slumber. Madam, madam, wake up, wake up. She woke. What is it? We had a message directly from the TA field office in Majandor. Theres been some sort of terror attack in J-Town. Theyre saying we should go straight to the mansion in case any related attacks are planned. But surely they would attack the mansion if they were going to attack Jyan, would we not be safer at Majandoor? I dont know why but they just told us to head straight to the mansion... The girl looked to her colleague for support. I think theyre sending some extra guards out to the estate. Extra security. Well, OK then. Are you going to inform Jyan? I dont see how it makes any difference to her so Ill tell her when she wakes up. Thank you. Is there anything we can get you?

Yes, can I have a tea please? Tess sipped her tea when it came. To her left, Jyan was slumped in her seat, snoring softly. The wrench of disappointment in her gut made her feel guilty, the prolongation of her release was nothing. People have died. She immediately knew who would claim responsibility - the anti-unionists; an underground network who resisted by slaughtering innocent people. Deplorable, despicable scum. She had been called the Evangelic at Marsenne, a college already renown for its patriotic fervour. Tess had been involved in many of the departmental outreach programmes, being known as an effective way of getting yourself recruited into some of the Unions more exciting institutions - the Morality and Technology Authorities mainly, both of which were invitation-only. Although she had done brilliantly in her tests and examinations within the college, and undergone successful (as far as she knew) scenario testing and personality evaluations of high-level recruits, ultimately the invitations never came, which, stupidly and naively, she had never prepared herself for. That rejection took away her sense of direction for the first time in her life. Her early post-grad days were spent in her parental home, doing nothing else but living in a murk of depression and bitterness. She had been the evangelic! Others chased it for the power, or the generous salary and pension, or the continent crossing thrill of the chase, but she did it because she truly believed in the Union, its ideals, its unifying purpose, its ability to confront problems and overcome them like no civilisation before it. She looked to Jyan again. An old woman, head drooped on her chest, snoring softly. Her grey hair and her fine, understated clothing was smattered with brown, dusty mud. There she was: a prime example, sat only a few feet away from her. She had almost singlehandedly advanced structural engineering to the point where cities-within-cities could be constructed. For Tess, the turning point had been when she had tried, absurdly, almost comically now, to kill herself. The attempt was an abject failure, the rope around her neck was ill-secured and she fell to the floor, breaking her leg and slicing her face open, but still very much alive and coursing with the guilt of nearly letting her parents lose another child. From there, she had swallowed her rejection and tried again to be a part of the Unions apparatus, albeit with much lower sights. She applied, and was accepted into the Representations department, providing support to the Unions personnel - politicians, generals, retired mega-engineers.

The flier banked and Tess heard the landing gears clunk out of the flyers body. Below, Jyans mansion was lit by powerful spotlights dotted in the expansive gardens. It was a mish-mash of different styles from different periods hashed together in a rough square shape, with a courtyard in the middle. The original, oldest building had been in the shape of a squared horseshoe, built out of large blocks of roughly cut pale yellow sandstone. Later, the gap between the two opposite wings had been occupied by the large glass atrium, resembling a large green house from height. Jyan woke as the flyer bumped back on the hard ground of the front lawn. The sprinklers hadnt been on for weeks, and it was only the start of the summer. Tess offered no assistance as Jyan made her way slowly down the ramp and inside the atrium, with Tess following as ever. She seemed not to notice that Tess was there, when she wasnt supposed to be. There was no sign of extra security and the house was deserted of its usual retinue of servants and helpers - all at home with their families. Dead in the centre of the atrium was a large fountain shaped in the form of two double helices, twisting outwards and spraying water through tiny apertures in the silvery metal. The small jets of water were meant to resemble more helices, but Tess could never see it. Perhaps she hadnt found the right angle. She did appreciate the intricacy of the tiles flood, though: the central part around the fountain was an expanse of hundreds of small black tiles and within that were islands of intricate mosaics made out of smaller tiles in earthy colours - deep reds and greens that were adorned with delicate splashes of lilac and indigo. Growing up towards the glass roof, stories above, was a dense jungle of potted plants, shrubs and small trees. Wall creepers grew up the old sandstone of the now-internal walls, off which baskets hung, laden with all manner of bright and scented flowers. Atop the old walls were white plaster balustrades, behind which were dining areas on what would have been the old roof, shaded by the vegetation. Jyan walked past the fountain and down a wide stairway to the kitchen, situated underneath the courtyard where it was ideally suited to serve any location in the mansion through an interconnected warren of service tunnels and corridors. Jyan helped herself to a salmon and cream cheese sandwich from the fridge. So, why are you still here? I thought you were dead set on getting out of this place?

Majandoor told the pilot to go straight here. No explanation given, probably some scare or another. Ill make my own way tomorrow, overland. Tess couldnt think why she lied, but she had no obligation to Jyan, now. She didnt want to endure a rant, or a sulk or a tantrum when she wasnt even being paid for it. She grinned. No escape. Well, you could get me a bottle of my finest wine out of the cellar please. After that, you can help yourself to sandwiches and drinks and do as you please. Oh and remember to take it to the study, where I shall be getting extremely and belatedly drunk for the rest of this wretched day. Tess turned to go, but Jyan wasnt finished, Would you have woken me to say bye if we did land in Majandoor? She just said, No. It was supposed to be defiant, but it came out almost apologetically. *** Tess retired to her room as soon as she had dropped the wine off at the study. She sat on the side of the bed, eating her own salmon sandwich, reading her messages on her terminal. Her parents Aramus video message was much the same as it always was, imploring her to come home for a visit, asking how she was, telling her that they were alright, what they were doing (little), asking what she was doing (nothing of importance) and wishing her a happy Aramus, and wishing that she was with them. Each year the same, each year they looked a little older. She turned the terminal off and lay back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling of her small room. The last time she had seen her parents had been when she left for this assignment. She would be in Majandoor next, probably not tomorrow but the day after, and then meet with her line manager at the Bureau to sign off and debrief. Hopefully she would have a valid transferal to another department, god knew she had put in enough applications, and Representations knew she wanted to move on. They were obviously reluctant, she was one of their more promising new recruits, but they had an obligation to help her if she so wished. If nothing was forthcoming, then... what? She wasnt sure. Anything but living with her parents again, that was for sure. Despite the lateness, Tess felt unable to relax. It was the oppressive heat;

the draughty old wing of the mansion her room was located in was always chilly in the winter and over hot in the summer. It was more than that though, Tess felt like she shouldnt be here. Trapped. She climbed back out of her bedclothes and into some loose linen trousers and a simple vest, leaving her feet bare. Her reflection stared back from the mirror on the old, rickety dresser - a thin, worried face, a drab of mousey brown hair. Early on in her assignment she had overheard Jyan refer to her as the prissy schoolteacher, which had stung. It took a while to realise that she was being overly fretful and nervous; insofar as Jyan was concerned, she had to learn how to be indifferent. Old timbers groaned underfoot as she made her way downstairs, though there was no-one to hear, the old lady would be in her study or in bed, both in her private wing on the opposite side of the building. Tess held a globe-lantern, a small, glowing globe delicately suspended from a thin cord. She slipped through a hardly used dining room, leaving a trail of disturbed dust on the wooden floor, and slipped out of a french window and out into the grounds. They would have been lavish, if not for the drought. Instead of lush, moist grass, the ground was solid and the grass dry and yellowing, where there should have been sculpted topiary, there were parched bushes, their skeletal forms bathed in the moonlight, the flowerbeds flat, dark shapes in the ground. Still, the night was clear and the cool air was a welcome relief. She made her way around the mansion, walking slowly and taking in the peace. The only sounds were the chirps of crickets and she thought she hear the distant screech of a barn owl. The estate grounds were extensive, beyond the formal gardens stretched miles of rolling parkland and woodland, encompassing two small villages and several farms. In years before, Tess had taken every opportunity to go hiking, taking a small tent so she could explore where she pleased, staying out the night. It was one of the few things about the job she truly enjoyed, rarely getting the chance to be alone with her thoughts, as she was now. Again, she thought she could hear the screech of a barn owl, although this time it seemed to be coming from inside the mansion. Then, she heard a dull thud and the crack and tinkle of breaking glass. Immediately, she hid behind a low bush and stuffed the globe-torch into her trouser pocket. She scanned the front of the mansion for any movement. Nothing that she could see. None of the windows showed any light behind them. A low moan emitted from the house, followed by muffled sobbing.

Tess came out from behind the bush and crept towards the house. She realised that one of the rooms had a hint of bluish light behind the thick drapes. Jyans study, she realised. More sobbing and moaning sounds emitted. She sprinted back to the french window, which had shut itself somehow. Shit. For a second, she hesitated, then picked up a hefty stone and smashed her way to the lock. The study was a mess, strewn with books and more broken glass. The lamp from the coffee table had evidently been hurled at the window, and was now laying broken on her desk, below the window. Jyan was laying in the middle of the study, on the floor, curled up and sobbing and moaning. Tess had no idea how to react. Jyan had never opened up to her, never betrayed more than a hint of emotion beyond the usual bored, laconic cynicism. Behind Jyan, the vid-screen was on, showing one of the many rolling news channels. Smoke billowed in front of the camera, which was inside, somewhere. The caption below read, Explosion in J-Town and the voiceover, barely audible, was saying, -had unconfirmed sources saying that this is the work of the anti unionists, although to repeat, that is still unconfirmed. Death toll is currently confirmed at seven, with that number expected to rise. The screen cut away from the billows of smoke to the presenter and a studio guest. Hello, if you are just joining us, welcome to UBC coverage of the Aramus explosion in J-Town. The explosion took place around one hour ago, 9pm local time in an underground complex known as Jax Spiral. The young, attractive woman turned to the older man, Now, Mr. Doyce, you are an expert in terrorist incidents, what can you tell us about this situation? Tess went and knelt at Jyan, gingerly putting her hand on her shoulder. It was like a trigger. Jyan lashed her arm back with caught Tess in the face, sending her sprawling backwards. Whoos there? Jyan slurred as she rolled forwards and tried to get up. She overbalanced and came back down, crashing onto the coffee table. Its me, Tess! Tess said, struggling to control her anger as she stood, rubbing her smarting face. She stooped down and pulled Jyan up and roughly dumped her in a sofa chair. Why did you hit me?

How was I supposed to know it was you? Who else would it have been? Jyan didnt reply. Mr Doyce was still speaking on the vid-screen, - very hard to say right now, Sandra. But terrorism is that - an act of terror, and what can scare good citizens more than the threat of a bomb on a day of happiness and family? And, one thing I do need to point out is the significance of Aramus extends towards the make up of Anti-Unionists, they are mostly Ebrycian or other eastern people who are poor, disadvantaged and are radicalised and brainwashed into believing that the Union is their foe. And what I think is notable is that for the eastern religions, such as that of the Ebrycians, today is no holy day, simply a day like every other. Of course, we have seen this behaviour before in the bombings of decade114 and d-118 which, on the surface, look remarkably similar to the situation we see now in J-Town. You have to look at the demographics of J-Town, Sandra. Ever since the Ebrycian Fall, almost twenty years ago now, J-Town has seen an enormous influx of eastern migrants, many who will be, sadly, vulnerable to exactly this sort of brainwashing. Do you know who I am? What? Of course I know who you are. Tess replied. Not my name or what I did, who am I? You have lived nearly every breathing minute with me for five years, Tess. What have you learned about me? Not much. Tess said, sullenly. What is there to know? You hate everything and everyone almost, you use your breath only to complain even though you live a life of incredible wealth and privilege. There was a tense silence. Why dont you sit? Jyan asked, almost kindly. Tess did, feeling foolish and awkward. Jyan sat back and sighed, looking back at the vid-screen. The coverage of the bombing continued, a reporter was reporting live from J-Town.

I suppose youll also be wondering why I was sobbing on the floor when you came in? The terrorist attack? Jyan snorted in amusement at that. Well, in a way. Entirely selfish reasons, though. Of course. Youre not sorry for the dead? Oh, come on. Seven people? Its all very sad for the families, yada-yada, but in the big picture... well, the deaths dont mean much. Its the act itself thats significant. Jyan stopped speaking, gazing back towards the vid-screen. This is the picture just released by the Morality Authority, depicting the suspect in yesterdays Aramus bombings, the vid-screen showed a young black man, staring blankly into the camera, his name is Essau DArsa, a 23 year old Ebrycian refugee with links to the underground technology trade and anti-unionist cells in J-Town. His location is unknown at this stage, but all authorities are urgently seeking him in connection with these bombings. Anyone with any information should come forward to your nearest Union Bureau immediately. At that, Jyan flicked the vid-screen off, and for a second the study was in total darkness. Tess pulled the globe-torch out of her pocket, and placed it on the coffee table. It revealed Jyan sat forward, looking sober and alert, still staring at the blank screen. Dont think I dont know about you, Tess. You werent supposed to be some personal assistant, were you? At first I thought you were some sort of crude spy sent to keep tabs on me and my weary disdain of... all this. She swept her hand around in the gloom. But you never got to spy school, did you? Ive seen the records from Marsenne - you were a member of all the right programmes: game theoretics, strategic studies, cultures and morality - and I even had a look at some of your papers. Most of them were good, and some maybe brilliant. Better than representations material, Id say. Dont you think? Obviously not, from the way things turned out, Tess said quietly, and why

do you care about my past? Couldnt you have just asked me this, instead of ignoring me and reading up on me in secret? I am a paranoid, grumpy old woman, Tess. I am at the end of my life, and there is very little I care for or about. But that bombing was one of them, because I know what it means, and it means that an old... adversary is back. You mean the anti-unionists? No. Im sure they did not commit this attack. That young man is probably innocent, and most likely dead by now. What youre saying is that the Union is deceiving us? Jyan became more animated than Tess had ever seen her, leaning forwards at Tess, That is exactly what I am saying. When you have been around for as long as I have, you realise what a sordid pit of snakes this place really is, the authorities are all corrupt, they are all at each others throats. Somethings coming, Tess, I know that much. How much do you think you know about the Fall? All of what you learn about it is hearsay and conjecture and lies to fill in the blanks. I was there, and I know that the repercussions for what really happened out there will last much, much longer than anyone imagined. I dont believe the authorities would kill their own citizens in a game amongst themselves- How would you know? Youve never worked for them, youve never been close to them. I know about that, too. Tell me, then. Its obvious. You were the... evangelic, yes? The one who really did truly believe in the purpose of the Union. Thats all that separated you and the others. But surely that would mean they wanted me all the more? Tess didnt understand. You are innocent, arent you? Nothing is as simple as that. You should be grateful you found yourself in my employ, girl. I am what I am, and that is what you see, like it or not. It is late. But before I go, Id like to offer you a job, evangelic. If you truly

love the Union as much as you think you do, then youll accept, because there are true threats out there, much more significant than these little terrorists and squabbling governments. Work for me. Help me. With that, Jyan slowly got herself to her feet and said, Sleep on it, and talk to me tomorrow, before slowly walking out of the study and up to her room. Tess stayed sat on the sofa, staring at the globe-torch in front of her, lost in thought.