Landfall (The Reach, Book 2) (34 page)

Lazarus smiled sadly.  “Not at all.  I once worked for the Consortium.”

“The neighbourhood kids seem to think of you as some kind of monster.”

“That is by design.  Those who are afraid do not come looking at things that are better left alone.”

“So why are you here?  Why aren’t you in the Reach with your Consortium buddies?”

Lazarus leaned back against the chest of drawers and settled himself there.

“That is something I must tell you.  I must tell you everything from the very beginning, so that you may understand the importance of this mission.”

Knile glanced back out into the chapel, conscious that Roman was waiting.

“Listen, no offence, but I don’t have time to hear your life story right now.”

Lazarus took a deep breath and shook his head, clearly disappointed.

“It seems that each time you open your mouth, the noxious fumes that spill out threaten to douse the tiny flame of my faith in you.”

Knile pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, exasperated.  Then he shrugged.

“Okay.  I’ll listen to you if that’s what you want.”

Lazarus nodded, seemingly placated by this.  He settled again as he gathered his thoughts.

“I only ever loved one woman, but that was one too many,” he began.  “Her name was Edyta, and she was a Consul for the Consortium.  She was a tiny thing, a woman small in stature but with a spirit that could fill a cathedral.  Her laughter was like the peal of a sharply plucked string of the harp, her smile brighter than a Mercurian sunset.

“We didn’t mean to fall in love,” Lazarus went on wistfully.  “Perhaps we weren’t meant to.  Regardless, it could not be helped.  I saved her life, you see.  I took a bullet in my arm that was intended for her.  It was by sheer luck more than anything else.”  He rubbed at his bicep distractedly.  “I accepted her thanks and moved on, but her debt of gratitude extended farther than I could ever have realised.  She be
gan to send me gifts, small arte
facts at first.  Things of insignificance, it must be said.  A bird made from folded paper.  A handwritten note.  A sugary treat wrapped in scented paper.”  He smiled to himself.  “She would manipulate her schedule so that she could spend time with me – ten minutes here, half an hour there, and gradually we began to chip away at the stony exteriors that each of us had erected through our roles with the Consortium, and we uncovered what really lay beneath.  We found two people who were meant for each other.

“All the while I told myself that these things meant nothing to me, that
she
meant nothing.  But little by little my resolve crumbled away.  Over time she wove the tendrils of her soul deeply and inexorably within me, and it seemed that I had done the same to her.”

Lazarus bent and pulled open a large wooden chest and gently rummaged inside.  He drew out an origami crane and turned it over slowly in his hands.

“Why did you resist her?” Knile said.

“Because our love was forbidden,” Lazarus said without looking back.  He placed the crane back inside the chest.

“Why forbidden?  That–”

Knile broke off, spotting something in the back of the chest that glinted softly in the candlelight.  It looked like a suit of armour.  Although covered in dust, Knile could see the deep red of the material beneath.  He realised with a start that he had seen this kind of armour before, and suddenly he understood who – or at least what – Aron Lazarus was.

“Holy
shit
,” he breathed.  “You’re one of the Redmen.”

Lazarus hissed as if he’d scolded his fingers on a red-hot poker.

“How dare you assault me with that vulgar slur,” he said, turning sharply back to Knile.  “I am one of the Crimson Shield, Protector of the Outworlds, knight of the most holy and sacred order.  I will not hear it denigrated by such gutter talk.”

“I’m sorry,” Knile said earnestly.  “I didn’t know.  I’m sorry I offended you.”

Lazarus drew back again, nodding.

“Be sure to remember it.”

“I will.”  Knile glanced at the door again, still thinking of Roman.  “Please continue.  Tell me what else I need to know.”

“Edyta and I… our love, it was forbidden, as I said.  For her, it was a rule amongst employees of the Consortium that they were never to mingle with the Crimson Shield outside of an official capacity.  To do otherwise meant immediate expulsion from the organisation.  And for me…”  He closed his eyes, pained by the memory.  “I swore an oath, like all who are initiated into the Crimson Shield, that I would devote myself to the order, forgoing the pleasures of the common man.  I could never take a wife.  A lover.”  He smiled bitterly.  “But I did, you see.  Edyta was both my salvation and my undoing.”

“What happened?”

“When they found out I had lain with Edyta, I was… dishonoured.  Cast out of the order, sentenced to Landfall.”

“Landfall?” Knile said.  “What’s that?”

“Landfall is the greatest disgrace a member of the Crimson Shield may suffer.  It means to set one’s feet on the corrupted soil of the Earth, to be banished to this forsaken place for eternity without hope of ever leaving.”

“Landfall,” Knile said, turning the word over in his mouth, savouring the unfamiliarity of it.  “Interesting concept.  If it’s any consolation, there are plenty of others here who have been given the same sentence.  Look out in the street.  Everyone you see has been condemned to wander this forsaken place until they die.”

“It’s not the same,” Lazarus said sourly.  He reached into the chest and drew
out a small book with a powder-
blue cover.  “In any case, we have come to the crux of my tale.  While my punishment was to be sentenced to Landfall, Edyta was treated far more unkindly.  My brothers in the Crimson Shield wished to punish me for causing disgrace to the order, and so they hurt me in the most horrendous way possible.  Through her.  They…”

“Go on,” Knile prompted.

“They spread lies about Edyta.  They slandered her name, told tales of her sleeping with half the men in the Consortium, whoring out her body to gain favour.  And more, they said that she sold Consortium secrets for her own profit.  My brothers in the Crimson Shield sought to utterly annihilate her reputation, and they succeeded.”  Lazarus pressed a hand against his forehead.  “She was cast down into the Cellar like a common criminal.  She was a gentle soul, a pure soul, not meant for that place.  She died there not long after, like a radiant flower cast into the depths of the sewer.”

Lazarus went silent and stood staring at the book in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Knile said sincerely.  “People who are capable of that kind of cruelty don’t even deserve to be called human.”

Lazarus nodded.  “And so, here lies your task.”  He handed the powder-blue book to Knile.  The word
Diary
was written in cursive font on the cover.

“I don’t get it,” Knile said.  “What do I do?”

“In the Consortium Infirmary on Level Two-H
undred and Ten of the Reach lies an old woman named Tosia.  She is dying.  She is also Edyta’s mother.  When the lies and slurs about Edyta began to circulate, her mother was horrified.  She disowned Edyta, believing her family had been dishonoured forever.  Edyta died before she ever had the chance to clear her name.”  Lazarus laid his huge right hand on the book.  “This is Edyta’s diary.  It chronicles all of the most important events of her life, from the time she was a small girl until the day she was sentenced to the Cellar.”

Knile opened the diary and caught a glimpse of pages filled with neat, flowing handwriting, but Lazarus gently closed it again before he could read anything.

“Please, this is not for your eyes, Knile.”

“Sorry.”

Lazarus returned to the chest.  “I want you to give the diary to Tosia.  She will know it is legitimate by what is written inside – chronicles of events that only Edyta could have known.  Tosia will read the truth about Edyta and myself, about the purity and sanctity of our love.  She will see the lies for what they really are.”  He breathed inward deeply.  “Edyta’s honour will be restored, at least in her mother’s eyes.  Tosia can go to her grave once again feeling pride and love for her daughter, as it should be.”

“Give the diary to Tosia – that’s all you want me to do?”

Lazarus drew something out of the chest and straightened.  “That is all I want you to do.  This diary is the only thing that has kept me in Link since I was sentenced to Landfall.  The thought of delivering it to Tosia has consumed me day and night.  It is all I have left to do in this pitiful wreck that was once my life.  That is why I have been so selective in choosing the right courier.”

Knile lifted the diary.  “I’ll see that it’s delivered.  Now if we can–”

“Patience.  Do not rush.  The Reach is not far from here.  I could walk there myself in ten minutes.  There will be time for you and the boy.”

“How do you know that?”

“I saw his condition through the camera when you arrived.  His symptoms indicate that you still have several hours to reach the Infirmary.”  He reached out and handed Knile a glowing red badge with the letter
‘C’
in the centre.  “This will ensure your safe passage to your destination.”

“What is it?”

“It is a token that is given to members of the Consortium so that they can reach the Infirmary whenever they are in need.  The Enforcers will allow anyone who possesses this to pass through the gates.”

“Damn,” Knile said appreciatively, “I could have used this thing on my journey to the Wire.”

“No.  This will only allow the elevators to access one level – the Infirmary.  You cannot use it to travel anywhere else.”

“Okay.  I think I’ve got it.”  Knile exhaled shakily, his belief restored.

This crazy idea might actually work after all
, he thought.

“Now,” Lazarus said in a low voice.  “Give me your word.”

“Huh?”

“My soul is in your hands, Knile.  If you fail at this, my only chance of salvation will be lost.  Give me your word that you will do this for me.  You will find Tosia and give her the diary.”

Knile nodded solemnly.  “Yes, Aron.  I give you my word.”

Lazarus gripped his shoulder firmly.  “That is good.”

Knile looked up at him.  “I have to ask – since you’re so close to the Reach yourself and you have the badge, why haven’t you taken the diary back yourself?”

“That is not possible,” Lazarus said adamantly.  “I have been sentenced to Landfall.  I have been banished.  To set foot back inside the Reach would be to destroy the last shred of honour that is left to my name.”

“So what happens to you now?”

Lazarus took another deep breath as he collected his thoughts.

“Now I will head out into the lowlands, into the wilderness.  That is where I belong.  Word has it that there is a great cathedral out there in a city to the east, the largest that still stands in this world.  I am going to find it, and once I do, I will pray there.  I will allow the holiness of its walls to nourish me for as long as it desires.  Then, when it is ready, I will pass on from this world and into the next.”

Knile felt a pang of desperate sorrow for Lazarus’ plight.  It was a tragic tale, and his punishment seemed unduly heavy, but Knile had to admit he knew practically nothing of the traditions and the moral code of the Redmen.  He felt a little better in the knowledge that he could bring Lazarus some measure of peace by delivering the diary, while at the same time saving Roman’s life.

Roman.

“If there’s nothing else, I have to go,” Knile said.  “I’m sorry, I can’t wait any longer.”

Lazarus nodded.  “I understand.”  He gestured to the doorway.  “Please proceed.”

Out by the altar, Silvestri was waiting patiently, fidgeting with the buckle on his belt.  As Lazarus appeared his eyes widened in anticipation.

“So?” he said.  “Is the deal done?”

“It is done,” Lazarus said.  He held out a small black case toward Silvestri.  “Here.  Take what was promised.”

Silvestri reached out reverently and took the case, then fumbled at the catch.  He lifted it and stared at the contents, a look of awe slowly spreading across his face.  Knile couldn’t see what he was looking at from his position, but he could see the glint of something golden as the sunlight
streamed in through the stained-glass window and reflected off its surface.

Silvestri’s lips parted.  “This is–”

“Forged within the holy walls of the Citadel on Mars,” Lazarus
interrupted.  “A priceless arte
fact if ever there was one.”

“I…”  Silvestri shook his head and reluctantly closed the case.  “Thank you.”

Knile made haste down the aisle.  He found Roman where he had left him, and although he was breathing, the boy was not responsive.

“You’re going to have to carry him from here,” Silvestri said at his side.

“Yeah.”  He drew him gently up into a sitting position.  “Looks like it.”

“Should I come with you, Knile?” Silvestri said.  “I could help you bear the load up until the gates.”