Love, Life and The Old Stench of Luck

2. The Holding Pattern

2. The Holding PatternWhen his mind’s eye opened, Sabienn found himself in a very plush and luxurious office. There was a group of four men surrounding a large and impressively carved oak desk in the centre of the room, all neatly accommodated within soft-felted white chairs with ornate backs like thrones. In his ghost-like state, Sabienn kept to the corner of the room where he could survey everything.

Three of the men Sabienn recognized as the men in the Presidential box in the arena. They were still strangers to him but the fourth man in the room needed no introduction. Once again Sabienn could feel the dark aura of the man seeping across the expansive distance of time and space just as the tall bald black cloaked figure was sitting there. It was, of course, his Father Murrlock Hyde, the owner of the card that was held within Sabienn’s fingers and the second most powerful man in Hayddland.

“The coffee is to your liking?” said Ramm without feeling. He was sitting opposite Murrlock, keeping a sharp and attentive eye on his guest, as would a card player looking for the tells in an opponent.

“No,” said Murrlock plainly, placing the cup to a table at the side. “It’s not to my taste.”

“It’s Blaze Roast, Murrlock,” said Ramm. “A cat shits the beans and the coffee is made.”

In his vision state, Sabienn looking on was stunned to hear Ramm refer to the GIP as ‘Murrlock’; a familiarity that could well get a lesser placed person executed.

“Well it’s an acquired taste,” said the paunchy Dice, sipping from his cup with glee. “So many aromas to dissect.” To demonstrate he sniffed from his cup. “There’s a fruit smell I can’t quite put my finger on.”

“It’s not to my taste either, Murrlock,” said Ramm, placing his cup down. “I drown it with milk and sugar. But it is the best.”

“I see it is not to the taste of your Chief Guard,” said Murrlock pleasantly towards Poss who had no cup.

Leelann Poss looked coldly back. “I have no need of a stimulant, Wizard,” he said without care of offering insult.

“Now now, Poss,” said Ramm diplomatically. “The man’s our guest. I assume he hasn’t come with empty hands.”

“Indeed I have,” said Murrlock plainly. “I have nothing to give you but good advice.”

“Advice I have an abundance,” said Ramm smiling. “Come, Murrlock. What are you offering?”

“Nothing,” said Murrlock definitely, folding his hands in his lap.

“The finer arts of negotiation seem to have missed this man,” said Poss to his two friends. “We will sign a thirty-year Treaty with Deerland or with Hayddland. This man is making our choice easier.”

“Poss, please,” said Ramm. “Both you and Murrlock are tall, bald and muscular men. You’re like two peas in a pod. My two little axe murderers.”

Sabienn couldn’t believe his ears as he listened to Ramm mock his Father. This was an open insult. If a member of his Father’s Ten-68 guard had been present in the room, they would have walked up to Ramm and slit his throat; regardless of who he was or the consequence.

Watching his Father’s face, Sabienn was fascinated to see the comment barely register. “You’ve always been a challenge, Stench,” said Murrlock calmly, stating some nickname best known only to himself. “You are beyond my usual tactics. I, of course, will always have spies to dig up dirt. To find some gem of guilt I could manipulate. But you? The more I dig, the more I find there is nothing you wouldn’t stoop to. If there was a dictionary definition of the most corrupt, most disgustingly vile, morally bereft, manipulative, coarse, low-life scum of the planet, it would be attached to your photo.”

“Rehearsed though that may be, that certainly sounds like the pot calling,” said Ramm without missing a beat. “You and I go way back, Murrlock. I always thought our relations were improving. I hated you when I was a kid but I only dislike you intensely now.”

Sabienn had a sudden flash of memory. He remembered in one of his visions that Murrlock grew up in the Green Zone as a child. He remembered words that came from Grey Cape himself how the mother of the twins, Grey Cape and Murrlock Hyde and the mother of Orr Benn Kee, The Great Leader, disappeared here in the Green Zone, presumably killed by Turr guards. It left the three boys orphaned when they were about ten.

“You will sign,” said Murrlock calmly.

“What’s this ‘will’ stuff?” asked Poss darkly. Poss got up from his chair and moved around the room in an agitated state. “We should re-sign with Deerland just to get rid of this fool.”

“I’ll speak with the man whose job you want,” said Murrlock calmly towards Poss, indicating Ramm.

Poss reacted with a sudden lunge at Murrlock pulling a knife from his cloak but was held back as Ramm raised a hand. “Careful, Poss,” called Ramm. “Kill this man and his airships will be in Luck tomorrow. Regardless of any Treaty.”

“Just to remove the filth from the chair he sits on,” called Poss with gritted teeth, concealing his weapon once more.

“You always were the tactical mind,” said Murrlock towards Ramm.

“Explain to me why we need to sign to you?” asked Ramm, without pleasantry.

“You already know,” said Murrlock blankly. “I’d say use your political mind, but you rarely use anything else.”

“Let me guess,” said Ramm, staring intently at Murrlock. “You’ll say, the ground is shifting underneath me. That Annlinn Tayek is no Lewis Prime. You’ll say, that Prime was a President who would respect the strong man. Emphasis ‘strong’, emphasis ‘man’. When he died three years ago, his blind eye died with him. Now we have Madam President Tayek. The soft hand of Deerland. She wants to push the helping fingers out into the Realm.”

“And how will the White Zone react?” said Murrlock. “To a genuine listening ear?”

“The White Zone will do as I instruct,” said Ramm.

“Are you sure?” said Murrlock. “How many Turrs do you have?”

“In the White Zone?” said Ramm. “We’re not going to have this traitor argument again?”

“Only Orr Benn thinks you’re a traitor,” said Murrlock. “I just think you’re a louse.”

“I am the architect of my destiny,” said Ramm proudly. “Everything you see here is because I grabbed the fruit. And man, it was just hanging there rich and ripe. I didn’t even have to drag the branch down. Lewis Prime wanted a Green Zone man. There were eight arms and uniform factories here in Luck. All manned by prisoners and refugees. It could have been you, Murrlock. Or Orr Benn. Just think of it. We were all in the war. All Captains and Majors. So don’t go playing this high-minded pristine patriot with me. If it weren’t for your gut-felt hatred of the Turrs, it could have been you sitting here. But he picked little old me. And what’s wrong with the Turrs? They worship me. Ever share a bed with five sharpies? Turr women are so hot. But I suppose that wouldn’t be something that would interest you.”

“How many Turrs do you have?” persisted Murrlock.

“Sixteen million in the White Zone,” said Ramm. “Four million in the Black Zone. Three in the Green. I suppose you’ll be wanting a contribution?”

“I can’t spare you any,” said Dice calmly, “I have a Tower to build. The tallest building on the planet. But the higher we go, the more workers are falling to their deaths.”

“I’ll take two million,” said Murrlock, not caring if he was out of line. “We need to harvest as many ears as we can. And we name the shopping complex the Orlo Cupp Centre.”

“Out of the question,” said Poss. “It’s the Ramm Tower. A statement to our President’s prowess.”

“You can call the Tower what you want,” said Murrlock. “But the Centre’s Orlo Cupp.”

“I’ll give you one million,” said Ramm. “By lottery. From the White Zone. And it’s the Ramm Tower.”

“Agreed,” said Murrlock. “I’ll have my people write up the conditions.”

“One moment,” said Ramm, holding his hand up to make Murrlock silent. Ramm turned to his Grand Builder and spoke with a pleasant tone, “Dice can you go get your boy?”

The pudgy and red-faced Dice looked around him suspiciously before speaking to Ramm, “Is anything wrong?”

“No,” replied Ramm, waving away any suggestion of an ulterior purpose. “You want your son to get some ambition. This man sitting here is the one to speak to.” He held his hand out to Murrlock. “He can drive a nail into the young boy’s head and turn him into a man. Bring Jank in.”

With a little effort, Dice found his feet and made a waddling motion to the centre of the room. He turned to the other three sitting, “It’s not that he’s a bad boy. It’s just he can’t take hold. A little bit of a mix up with the big men might help him. Y’ know. Set his sights a little higher.”

Standing in the corner of the room in his vision form, Sabienn was interested to listen to the turn of favour towards someone’s son and he watched his Father’s face intently. It embraced an unusual avuncular charm. “I help when I can,” said Murrlock smiling intently towards Dice.

Dice left the room and closed the door behind. Sabienn watched as Ramm himself left his chair to check the door, opening it a crack to see if anyone on the other side was listening in. Satisfied that they were alone, Ramm returned to stand in the centre of the room.

“You had news to convey?” said Ramm towards the seated Murrlock.

Without further comment, Murrlock produced two pieces of paper from his inner black cloak which he proffered one to Ramm and the other to Poss. The two men eagerly ran their eyes over the paper given to each of them.

“A transcript,” said Murrlock. “It’s accurate. I have people that can vouch.”

The two men reading weren’t objecting. They would have been both aware of Murrlock’s keen network of surveillance.

“That fat fool,” said Poss finally, almost spitting his words with disgust.

“Disappointing,” said Ramm distantly. Almost with a broken posture, the small-framed Ramm moved towards his balcony. Sabienn moved effortlessly around the room to be near Ramm and gaze out at the view from the large balcony doors. He could see the wealth and culture of the Green Zone near him stretching out to a very distinct partition. Beyond the partition, there were the grey makeshift buildings housing the seething millions of the White Zone. “Disappointing,” repeated Ramm, this time with more feeling and still gazing on his kingdom. “Murrlock, I hate your guts, but you have always been a good friend.”

“What are friends for?” said Murrlock sardonically. “I’ll take that paper back.” He swiftly moved to retrieve both documents from them and secure them within his cloak.

Ramm stretched his arms wide to take in the full vista from his window. “A holding pattern, Murrlock,” said Ramm. “You of all people would understand this. A holding pattern. A place for everything and everything in its place. Lewis Prime understood a holding pattern. He had a grip. A grip on the need to be brutal if required. A grip on a good brown paper bag sliding under the table. A grip on how things should be done. But Madam Tayek? Reaching out to our Grand Builder? This pains me.” He offered a quick glance to Sabienn’s Father before shaking his head. “Disappointing.”

“And my place?” asked Poss nervously.

“Your place?” said Ramm quizzically, looking back to his Chief Guard. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Murrlock leaned forward in his chair, “Should you want them executed, I can make them disappear.”

“Them?” asked Ramm.

“Of course,” said Murrlock. “Dice and Jank. There’s a bloodline to the revolution.”

“Poor little Jank,” said Ramm, under his breath. “I see him running as a boy. The casualties of betrayal.”

“Leave this to me,” said Poss ominously. “There is a Tower to be completed. The time and place must be well measured.”

“Very well,” said Murrlock.

“May I suggest to you, I’m still in the room?” said Ramm firmly. “No actions are to be taken without my approval.”

“As is always, My Lord,” said Poss, with deference.

Sabienn from his new vantage saw the door open wide again to reveal the smiling faces of Dice and Jank. There appeared to be no inkling on either countenance of what fate was going to present to them. Their faces had a joyous bounce of a father dog and puppy. It was of note to Sabienn that Jank wore the same cloak as the one that he sat in next to him in the stadium before the stains of pig sauce. He looked wide-eyed and humble to be there.

Unusually Murrlock spoke first and with great warmth, “So, this is Jank? Dice you’ve been hiding a fine young man.” He turned to Ramm. “Mister President, I never tire of generational change. Why, this man has his whole life ahead of him.” His hands went out towards Jank as if presenting a gift.

“Indeed, he does,” said Ramm blankly, still standing near his balcony view.

“And Lord Poss,” continued Murrlock. “Once you have taken over the reins of, what I would hope would be, a long Ramm reign.” Poss baulked uncomfortably at the comment as Murrlock continued, “It’s not my place to say, I know. But I see no better man than this one.” He pointed to Jank. “Possibly as Chief Guard. I see an importance in him.”

“Wizard,” called Poss darkly. “Your words mock my Great President Ramm. There has been no such succession stated. Nor talk of one. I would ask a guest to keep its tongue.”

“Just remember, Jank,” said Murrlock, completely oblivious to Poss’s discomfort. “Look on with awe at the tactics of your President. He keeps sixteen million people under the thumb in the White Zone. But it’s Turrs controlling Turrs. Feed your police well. Find them good shelter. Use oppression wisely but keep your people in line with economy.” Murrlock turned to Dice. “There’s an importance in this man.” Turning back to the young man, Murrlock reached into his pocket to retrieve the business card that was now in Sabienn’s hand. “Call me personally if you need advice.”

“I will, sir,” said Jank, feeling overwhelmed at being the centre of attention as he pocketed the card.

“Gentlemen,” said Murrlock pleasantly to all present. “I have business to attend. I’m sure we have a deal. The papers will be made up by my people. I would like to get a signature before the Treaty expires. I have your interests at heart. I am the only one with your interests at heart.”

“We’ve heard you, Wizard,” said Ramm, deep in his thoughts. “There’s much here for us to talk through.”

“My card is with the future,” said Murrlock, indicating Jank. “Just find it in his pocket should you need more advice.”

In a whirlwind of swirling black cloth, Murrlock stood from his chair to his full height and made his way to the centre of the room. He moved his powerful bald head to look at everyone in turn, leaving them in no doubt who was in control. He then found his feet and quickly alighted from the room. The door closed and the occupants collectively appeared to offer a sigh of relief. To Sabienn, a significant presence of dark energy had just left this space.

“Outrageous,” said Poss, in a low voice. Everyone in the room was still wary Murrlock’s presence still may have lingered or that somehow he may still be listening. “He offers nothing.”

“This is not good,” said Ramm in an undertone.

“Come again,” said Dice helping himself to another coffee from the side table. He smelt his cup before bringing it to his lips. “Plum. That’s what I’m smelling.” After imbibing some beverage, Dice took his seat and turned to Ramm. “I’m not happy with losing a million. I have my craftsmen just where I want them. The work is intricate. The wood and marble just doesn’t carve itself. I’m behind as it is.”

Ramm moved himself closer to his Grand Builder. “Murrlock had a transcript,” said Ramm ominously.

When the words registered with Dice, the cup shook in his hand and Sabienn saw beads of sweat form on the paunchy man’s forehead.

As if to cover the other flank, the muscular Poss moved in to be closer to prevent some lurch to safety from the seated man. Now in a place of interrogation, Dice blurted and struggled to get words out. “I.. Everything was as you wanted. I read from the sheet. They were all your own words,” called Dice nervously.

Menacingly Ramm rounded on Dice to face him, staring with ill intent for a few seconds. He then patted Dice pleasantly on the shoulder and spoke calmly, “Yes, thank you. You did well.”

“You told me to make like I’m a threat,” said Dice, the words tumbling out of his mouth now to save himself. “Madam Tayek didn’t want to talk to me. That hostile b***h! She couldn’t wait to get off the phone. But you knew, My Lord. You always knew. Some spook would be listening. And the words would be sent up to the big man. Where’s the transcript?”

“He took it back,” said Ramm intently.

“Everything I said was what you wanted to be said,” said Dice nervously.

“You didn’t deviate from script?” said Ramm, interrogating the man seated.

“I’m beginning to wish I never listened to you,” said Dice, almost to himself.

“What?” said Ramm, in disbelief.

“I wanted to record it,” said Dice. “Keep a record of what was said. So I could have it in print. My words. But you said ‘no’.”

“I didn’t say ‘no’,” said Ramm.

“I’m recording everything we say now as we speak,” said Poss to Ramm blankly. Poss confirmed this by removing a recording device from his own pocket to display to all present. “You said ‘no’, My Lord.”

“I did?” said Ramm, looking stunned. He turned back to Dice. “Did you go off script?”

“It was a phone call,” said Dice as if his life depended on it. “I can’t be sure I said everything. She butted in. What do I say?”

“Did you say ‘appreciate’?” said Ramm.

“I don’t know,” said Dice “Maybe.” Both Poss and Ramm were looking at him. “We receive half a billion prime in HOLD funds. Is it a crime to say ‘thank you’?”

“‘Thank you’ wasn’t on the script,” said Ramm. “Nor ‘appreciate’.”

“My Lord Ramm, if I may?” The helpful voice came from Jank who had kept his silence while standing in the corner of the room. “You always spoke of the Grand Inquisitor Profound. You always said he was akin to something foul stuck in the tread of your shoe.”

“This is not the time, boy,” said Ramm impatiently.

“Why do you assume his transcript is correct?” said Jank.

The comment brought the group to quiet thought.

“The boy may have a point,” called Poss. “Murrlock could have written anything down. Then say check it. Which he knows we never will.”

“He may be playing you, My Lord,” called Dice confidently.

“You didn’t say ‘appreciate’?” said Ramm finally to Dice after further pause.

“I’m a builder,” said Dice. “What do I know about anything? She said something like, ‘We give millions through our Hands Of Loving Deerland program. We give medicine, food and water to your poor. The least we should get is a ‘thank you’.’ I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”

“Gratitude is weakness,” said Ramm definitely. “It shows we can’t look after our own people. Lewis Prime wouldn’t be looking for a ‘thank you’.”

“And I didn’t say it,” said Dice definitely. He turned to Poss, “Go get his transcript. Go get records of my call. You’d have them somewhere. You’re not this lax.”

“This is not about my failings,” said Poss, staring daggers back.

“No, this is about digging a hole for me,” said Dice. He then pleaded to the room, “Murrlock is the best at this. He’s playing us all. And did he mention anything about this Oracle?”

Quickly Sabienn’s ears pricked up at the mention of Oracle which was his nickname among higher circles.

“There was no mention,” said Poss.

“Well don’t you think that’s odd?” asked Dice. “All reports show Oracle is on his way here. Murrlock wants him dead. And he doesn’t mention anything? He believes your signature is a formality.”

“My signature is no formality,” said Ramm with heat.

“Murrlock is playing you,” said Dice. “If this Oracle is as good as they say he is, we should make use of him.”

“Oracle would make a good bargaining chip,” said Poss to Ramm.

Casually Ramm moved across the room to a bookshelf and took hold of a plain wooden box that was lying on the shelf. It must have contained something treasured, as it looked at odds with the antique porcelain and steel mugs and vases of great value that rested near it. “Maybe this Oracle could be useful?” said Ramm, fondling the box in his hand. “He is supposed to be good.”

Jank interjected, “The man is of my age. Let me put him into the holding pattern.”

Ramm looked across to Poss who nodded in agreement. “I’ll pass what I have to you,” said Poss to Jank. “Your handling will be recorded.”

“We’d all be disappointed if it wasn’t,” said Dice.

“Was that sarcasm, Grand Builder?” called Poss ominously.

“I’ve known My Gracious Lord Ramm and you, Poss, for twenty years,” said Dice. “I won’t have my loyalty questioned. You do what you do. Let me build my Tower.”

“That’s my Tower,” said Ramm significantly. “The Ramm Tower.”

“Any suggestion contrary would be treason, My Lord,” said Dice. “May I take my leave, Your Highness?” After Ramm issued a quick nod, Dice turned to his son. “Come Jank. We have work.”

Quickly Dice and Jank left the room, leaving Ramm and Poss watching the doorway where they exited. Sabienn saw the faces of the two men left in the room. There seemed to be ominous purpose forming on their scowls. To Sabienn’s gaze it seemed directed at the recently departed.

The vision then went black. Sabienn returned to the stadium.

His eyes opened and he was back sitting with Bray and Jank; the latter making a disgusting chomp on to a piece of meat that was dripping on to the stone stair near their shoes. In an instant, Sabienn had a thought about what the ancients would have had to say about seeing such a scene of excess. He replaced Murrlock’s card back in Jank’s pocket where he had found it.

“Are you back?” called Jank, through a full mouth. “Anything interesting?”

“Only that you are not the fool you’re trying to make us believe you are,” said Sabienn. “And that you and your father are in danger.”

“My future’s assured, brother,” said Jank pleasantly. “You, on the other hand? Today you walk again on the knife’s edge. May you not fumble and be sliced in half.”

Bray watched on with interest, but more pressing things were on his mind. “Stork’s up,” he said. He pointed to the array of eaters entering the arena. Sabienn saw him in the third team with Idiz, complete with his determined look and waggling fake ears. Bray willed words across the space to his brother. “Keep your ears on, Stork,” he whispered loud enough for Sabienn’s ears.