Early the next day, a detachment of military runners came and summoned Moey to the Chair’s house. Moey was still shaken by Rex’s recent death, as he ran briskly through the streets, wondering along with most of Eden, about the circumstances surrounding succession. The guards would not share anything; maybe they didn’t know. He arrived and went straight to the Chair’s large meeting room. “I know Chris has something to do with his death. I’m sure of it!” shouted RJ to a bewildered Moey. RJ knew that his time was short—shorter than he had let on to Rex or anyone else. He could feel the pains worsening. Each morning, he awoke to pain so intense that he could barely breathe, and many nights, he hardly slept. Drinking barley wine helped comfort him, and evenings were the only time he could really concentrate and deal with important matters. RJ had laid out the succession plan with care and preparation. But now, Rex was gone. It was made to look as if he had died of natural causes, but several doctors had by now concluded that he had been poisoned. Suicide? Impossible! RJ could never believe that. They had been betrayed, and RJ suspected that the betrayal had been at the hands of his very troubled bastard son, Christopher.
RJ knew that Christopher would never be a fit leader. He was in fact a bit dim, which was a trait that he could only ascribe to his mistress, Nella. But RJ also knew that Chris had an evil streak and was so filled with rage and resentment over the circumstances of his origins and his future prospects that he was prone to acts of aggression for no apparent reason. He also had some rogue following of other similarly troubled and illtempered comrades. The bad news was that under the law, Chris would be the obvious successor, and RJ was now feeling tormented. This amplified his pain. He had recently committed so much of his limited energy to transferring the key knowledge to Rex. Moey now felt extreme discomfort as he sat before the Chair, wondering why on earth he was in this secret meeting. He could sense the danger involved and that his life was about to change forever.
RJ went on. “I have thought about this. You may not understand why, but I am certain that you are the only person I can talk to.” Seeing Moey’s mounting anxiety, he paused. “Moey, I don’t have the time nor energy to explain why I need your help. It is a judgment that I alone must make, and you must accept it. I’m sorry.
“I will share some things that you will find hard to believe. Yet, with your mind, I believe it may lead to some good for all of us. But most importantly, what I will share with you is never to be spoken of to anyone, until the time comes for you to pass the secret along to the next poor soul to carry. But, above all, you must never ever reveal any of this to your fatherin-law, who I now regret to say will likely be replacing me as the new Chair.”
A young Moey sat in the deafening silence that followed Ramius’s very long and detailed speech. He believed what he was hearing without question, for it explained certain mysteries that only he and a few other very insightful people had identified. The truth that had been laid bare made complete sense of questions that had troubled him for years. Still, it was a shock, and it left him feeling very odd and uncomfortable in his own skin. He and all of them were living not in an evolving world but, rather, in one that had experienced a complete reset. The Chair’s revelation to Moey did not and could not explain why things had happened or even what had happened—only that there had been something else long ago.
Moey’s first thought was that he had always wondered how everyone spoke a language called English, could even read it and write it, and yet there was no understanding of where it came from. What was the history behind English? And how did we come to understand that our planet Earth was a sphere that rotated and orbited the sun, as did the other planets. It was as if there was certain information that had somehow survived, yet most information had not, nor had the story of what had happened.
“Unfortunately, Moey, I am not in a condition to properly train you in the same way I did Rex. But I will spend some more time with you in the next few days, and you will learn exactly what you need to know and what you need to do.” Both men drew a deep breath and sighed. Moey looked up and caught the Chair’s pained gaze. “For today, that’s about it. I am tired. Be back here tomorrow at the same time.”
Moey walked in a state of concentration, his mind oblivious to the farcical existence of Eden and its rituals, buildings, and practices. He could hear only the pounding of his own heart and the heavy cadence of his breathing as he meandered the streets, taking the longest possible way home. Having heard RJ’s words, he was frightened and felt his body tightening due to anxiety.
As Moey continued his aimless jog, and pondered what he had just learned, he began to feel uplifted. This rising sensation then gave way to excitement. His heart began to race, and he soon found himself running at full speed while expelling bursts of laughter. Looking at him at that moment, one would have assumed that he’d gone completely mad. In fact, he was mad—mad with hope and enthusiasm for what lay ahead. How was he to wait another day to pick up the conversation with Ramius, when his list of questions doubled with every footfall as he scrambled through the quiet night streets?
The next morning, Moey arrived at the arranged time.
“Son, let us go to my study below.”
As usual, there were guards posted, and one of them showed particular interest in Moey as they passed, wondering why he was allowed into the study when RJ had never allowed others, besides Rex to enter. He hadn’t even allowed Christopher in. Utah was worried, but he felt confident that it was impossible to trace any wrongdoing back to him. The restaurant owner whom they called “the Murderer” had met with an unfortunate accident the previous night. There were no other loose ends. All the guards had been interrogated thoroughly yesterday and were still under suspicion but had not yet been reassigned, as the commander was awaiting directions from RJ.
“This is where Lisa found him on the night of your wedding,” RJ stated bluntly, pointing to the large desk. “Let’s go to the dining room.”
As they entered, RJ walked directly over to the far wall and stood in front of it. There was a small painting on the wall.
RJ reached around behind it near the top. It clicked and swung open, and behind it was the hand pad that was used for identification purposes. Moey’s eyes widened. RJ put his hand on the pad, which then glowed green, and suddenly, there was a soft click, and the wooden panel near the picture moved toward him. This was the entrance to the underground facility that RJ had described. The two men walked in; RJ walked confidently despite being feeble, and Moey, who was now fascinated, moved hesitantly.
Dream had been instructed to never speak when the door was open, lest someone in the study overhear her. As soon as the door closed completely behind them, she spoke.
“Ramius, Rex was attacked inside the study. I know you are aware of the problem. But may I ask what his condition is?”
“Rex is dead.” This was all he said. His head was bowed slightly, but suddenly, he snapped to attention. “Dream, you saw the attack on the camera?”
“Yes.”
“Play it in the command center.” Ramius opened the door to the habitat area and walked as fast as he could to the command room, which had the VR glasses and the monitor.
Moey tailed him, still confused by the entire situation, but he was catching up with alarming speed.
There were two frozen images at the center of the sideby-side monitors. One was from the camera above the shelter’s entry door, and it offered a view of the dining room and the door leading out to the study. The second still frame was of the main study itself.
They were wide-angle images, so nearly everything could be seen. The images could also be processed dynamically to enable them to show any detailed area within the frame.
Dream did all of these things automatically, and then she started the review immediately.
“Here is Rex leaving the shelter.”
The video showed the door opening, Rex walking out, and the door closing immediately behind him. It then showed him walking toward the door to the study, and the other video feed showed him entering the study. There was also audio of the conversation between the two men before the attack began. RJ and Moey watched the footage in horror.
“Rex!” RJ cried out in pain.
“That’s the guard! The guard … we … we just walked right by him! He did it!” exclaimed Moey. “He doesn’t know that we can see the past! He is guilty!” Moey blurted out with emotion. The scene ended with Utah administering the drops that were presumed to be the poison.
“Dream, what was the guard’s name? Rex said it.”
“Utah!” Moey jumped in, even before Dream could reply.
“That is correct,” confirmed Dream.
“He’s a dead man walking!” snarled RJ. “But if he is still there, I need you to act as if absolutely nothing is wrong. Don’t even give him a look, as it might tip him off. He is dangerous. I will organize with my commander to have him arrested.”
“I understand,” said Moey. “Better yet, why don’t you have him watched secretly? If you say that Christopher is involved, then maybe they will think they are in the clear and meet in public.”
Ramius looked at Moey, one eyebrow raised. “Good thinking, boy. I knew I was right about you.”
RJ in fact had a network of spies comprising men and women young and old. He had learned how to operate such a network the same way he had learned nearly everything—from below. In the forty years since he had assumed command, he couldn’t recall a single question that had not been answered by Dream in stunning detail. His spies were men and women of various walks of life. He would rotate them, asking each for about ten years of service. As RJ relied on his network, Utah came under immediate scrutiny, but it was nearly impossible for him to become aware of this.
But the efforts were futile, as Christopher could have taught his father a good lesson about paranoia. Christopher had no intention of interacting with Utah until long after he was installed as the new Chair. All of his coconspirators were well aware of this. A month into the surveillance, Ramius had to concede that maybe he was wrong; maybe Utah was just a lone wolf.
Ramius still harbored immense rage, and he now longed to put the wolf down. Moey counseled him that if Utah was gone, the truth would never be revealed. Dealing with Utah would need to wait until after Chris’s ascension and after RJ’s own death. But RJ couldn’t bear it any longer, as he was growing so weak. He had little time left. This was one thing that he needed to do. There were two other things as well.
“Moey, I have given the order for the arrest. I hope you understand,” RJ said, still wearing his night-robe. He was barely able to work for half a day, given his deteriorating condition, for which the cause was unknown.
“Maybe he will confess something about Christopher,” reasoned Moey.
“Perhaps. But if he does not, I need to make sure he is killed before I die and before Chris takes over. Of course, if he confesses, Chris can join him on the barge. Anyway, as we have discussed, never mention to anyone that there was any suspicion of Chris. That would be dangerous if there is in fact any truth to it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, if a few days of hard interrogation bears no fruit, I will declare Chris the new Chair, effective prior to my death, which won’t be long now.” RJ paused and caught his breath.
“The final thing we need to do is secure the shelter from Chris.
But I can’t think of how to do it. He won’t use my study, I’m sure. No one could ever understand why I would work down in the basement. It worries me that he will repurpose the room and someone will discover the entrance.”
“I have thought about it, and I have a suggestion. Give your study to Marina. Do it now, before you even tell Christopher that he is the Chair for sure. He will take it as a positive sign that his daughter has a special place in the house.
Then, we will decorate it like a living space. As her husband, I can come and go through the side entrance, and the guards will not find it odd. We won’t guard it anymore, because then, the guards will know when I am in there and when I am not.
“If Christopher comes in and I am not there, but the guards say that I am, it will look suspicious.”
RJ stared at Moey thoughtfully. “It’s brilliant.” He beamed. “In fact, it’s the only answer. I should have just asked you from the start.”
Moey smiled. He felt sad that he wouldn’t be able to spend more time with RJ. If Christopher ascended, it would be different, and Moey would always hold a dangerous secret, that would force him to remain distant form his father-in-law.
The next day, two things occurred: Utah was arrested, and Ramius announced his plans for Marina’s permanent residential space in the house. That evening, Christopher, Perry, and Jacob met in a small cellar pub, where the owner knew to put cups and jugs of wine on the table and then leave the premises whenever Christopher came. It was his most private meeting place. The men gulped the wine, trying to get ahead of their feelings of complete hysteria.
“Boys, give me some hope. Are we not sunk? He knows!” ranted Christopher, who was now a nervous wreck.
“He knows something about Utah,” cautioned Perry.
“And it may be only suspicion—nothing definite.”
“But they will beat it out of him,” added Jacob. “If he thinks he’s done, he will pull us all down. Why wouldn’t he?”
“Because of who he is,” Perry said flatly. He was the only one among them who wasn’t panicking. “He had his own reasons to take Rex down. Don’t assume the worst.”
“Oh, come on, Perry! Utah is a climber. He wants what I could give him if I am the Chair. He doesn’t give a damn about Rex now. He is probably thinking that I need to somehow get him out. But I can’t go near that. If they do know something solid already, it would be suicide for me to get involved,” reasoned Christopher. “Besides, RJ hates me. Maybe he’s going to put Marina in charge!”
“Maybe you don’t need to get Utah out,” Perry challenged. There was a pause, and the men just looked at each other. “Maybe you need to make him go away.”
“Do you have an idea?” asked Christopher, feeling hopeful.
“I might,” said Perry.
The men bottomed their cups and continued.
Utah was chained, bloody, and bruised. He continued to deny the allegations, thinking that it was impossible for anyone to have concrete proof.
But his captors seemed convinced that his was a hopeless case, that he was most certainly doomed, and that he might as well share the punishment with his coconspirators.
They are only trying to find a victim. After all, the murder of Rex should not go unresolved. If only Christopher could do something.
Christopher must be worried, thought Utah. If I confess everything, he and his boys are lost as well. But, then again, what proof do I have beyond my own words? People have seen us together. Yes, that’s it. No. I don’t even know who they are.
“Ha ha ha ha!” bellowed Utah in an insane outburst.
“I’m screwed!” I only have to take the beatings, deny everything, and hope that they are unsure about me. If I hold out and live, Christopher will cherish me forever. “Yes! Yessssss!”
I will stick to this. It’s my only possibility. In fact, Utah was out of possibilities. Unbeknownst to him, his options were to die soon or die immediately. But meanwhile, large sums of credit were signed over to Perry’s uncle, who happened to know Utah’s father, Utah Sr., who was a council member. Utah Sr. was terribly distraught and had already sought and was denied audience with the Chair. Perry’s uncle and Utah Sr. worked together to devise an escape plan for Utah. But the two men had different visions of the outcome.
Utah Sr. envisioned his son gaining safe passage through the savanna and somehow reaching Victory, where he could wait it out until he was vindicated or until Ramius died, which would likely be soon. Perry’s uncle was intent on Utah being killed by guards during his escape attempt, as they were already planning to kill him anyway.
As a council member who was mostly involved in military affairs and security, Utah Sr. could presumably visit his son and was already making arrangements to do so. If an escape could occur during his visit, Utah Sr. would, of course, be under suspicion, but it was a chance he was willing to take to save his son’s life.
It was set; he was to visit his son that evening. The guards and soldiers worked to get Utah cleaned up and changed out of his blood-soaked uniform. So far, he had not yielded an inch. Because his strength and mental discipline were holding, the guards began to wonder whether he was really guilty.
Of course, his important father could visit his son. It could be his last chance to see him alive. Utah Sr. came with his own military detachment of five soldiers, Perry being one of them. He could not leave it to chance that Utah might name him along with Christopher and Jacob. He came at great risk to try to solve the problem or see it resolved by others.
It was after dark when Utah Sr. and his detachment stormed into the prison facility. They were led to a special area, where Utah was being held. A large iron door was opened, and inside, the stench was foul and the area was filthy. Utah was in the corner, sitting on a bench, hanging his head. He was unchained. Utah Sr. rushed over to him.
“Son! It’s me! Oh no! What have they done?” Utah Sr. attended to his battered son with grave concern.
“Father, please. I need to get out of here.”
“I know, I know. Don’t worry. We are working on that.
Why are they beating you?”
“They are forcing me to tell lies … trying to get me to say that I killed Rex and asking for names of others involved.”
Utah coughed and held his chest, nursing his recently cracked ribs. “Just my bad luck that I was there on duty when it happened. Or maybe it happened after I went off duty. No one knows.”
Utah scanned the room through swollen eyes. Then, he saw Perry. He was shocked. They are trying to save me.
Christopher wouldn’t give up on me. We have such a bright future ahead.
As it so late at night and there were already so many soldiers in the room with Utah, the prison guards remained posted outside the door. Utah was still looking at Perry, and the two made eye contact. Suddenly, Perry grabbed one of the soldiers who had come in with Utah Sr. and put him in a strong headlock. At the same time, another soldier covered the choking guard’s mouth to prevent the guards outside from hearing any noise related to the struggle.
As they choked out the guard and he fell, limp and unconscious, Utah’s father and another soldier grabbed Utah and started stripping off his prison rags. They quickly swapped Utah’s clothes with the uniform of the unconscious guard. Utah had become very alert now. Savvy to the dynamic that was unfolding, he sped up the process. He noticed that the unconscious guard looked somewhat like him and was equal in stature. They put the guard on the floor in front of the bench where Utah had been sitting. His head was facing away, and he looked a lot like Utah.
“Guards!” Utah Sr. cried out. “Something is wrong with him!”
Instantly, the guards outside swung the door open and ran in. Utah had been turned away and was already near the door. As soon as the guards ran up to check on Utah, the rest stepped out of the holding room quickly and shut and locked the door behind them. The two guards realized the deception as soon as they heard the door lock. They looked up to see that all the men had gone. They checked the prisoner and immediately realized that they had been duped.
There was no real presence in that part of the jail late at night, as being a special prisoner, Utah had not been held with the rank and file on the other side of the building. This meant that no one was around to hear the cries of the trapped guards as they banged on the door. The same number of men who had entered the building now walked out into the night without the posted guards noticing anything unusual. The group of men, all of whom were runners, rounded a corner and immediately ran with fervor and excitement, still not believing what they had just accomplished. After running about a mile toward the south end of town, they were met by Jacob.
“Okay, Utah, we will deliver your son to Victory so that he can wait out the situation until he is cleared of any wrongdoing,” said Jacob.
Utah was so happy to see Jacob. He prayed that it wasn’t all a happy dream. He felt worn and in pain, but his spirits were higher that he could ever remember them being.
“Jacob, thank you,” the younger Utah muttered.
“Yes. Thank you,” echoed the senior Utah. “Son, be careful. And come back soon.”
“Father! You… you are in trouble!” Utah blurted out.
“Don’t worry about me, son. I will handle it,” responded a confident Utah Sr. The father and son quickly embraced, and with that, Utah, Perry, and Jacob took off running south toward the Victory camp.
Despite Utah’s injuries, Perry and Jacob were wary of taking him down on their own. He was bigger and stronger than they were and was well trained in defense and combat. So, two other larger men awaited them somewhere up ahead. Jacob and Perry had no ability to get to Victory anyway. It was a ruse.
RJ shuffled in wearing his night-robe, having just been disturbed from his sleep by his night guards. “The prisoner has escaped. We believe he was assisted by his own father, Councilman Utah. We have him locked up for questioning,” reported the military commander.
“He is completely unaware of what his own son has done.” Ramius spoke as if to himself, pondering the fact that he could never show his proof to Utah, although doing so would certainly remove all of his doubt. “Just hold him. Try to find out who helped him. No physical torture—only questioning.”
Ramius paused. “Send me Commander Diego.”
“Leader!” The commander saluted and exited the room.
As he exited, Lisa stormed into the room, panting, looking concerned, and seeking answers. “What happened?”
“The guard Utah … he escaped.” RJ closed his eyes as he spoke slowly, still tired and numb.
Lisa’s expression went from concerned to sad. She started to cry, not knowing what else to say. Her mother-in-law came in and tried to console her. She was not aware of what was happening but preferred to stabilize Lisa before demanding answers.
Momentarily, Commander Diego and two soldiers knocked and then entered, as the door was already open.
“Leader!” Diego and his escorts all saluted.
“Diego, make haste in apprehending Utah. I want you to lead this mission. Because he was under your command, you and your men should know him better than anyone else. You can use whatever resources you need, but be aggressive and get the hunt going immediately. He already has a head start, and the outposts are unaware. He will be dangerous, as you know.”
“Leader, thank you for this assignment. We will find him,” replied Diego confidently. “The runners were already sent about half an hour ago—only minutes after the escape. Every checkpoint in all directions will be alerted, assuming we don’t run him down first.”
There was an automatic protocol for fugitives, whereby the military would send two runners at full speed to each of the nearest outposts. From these outposts, they would deploy runners to the next farthest outposts. And so, the word would cascade outward like a chain reaction, always using fresh legs.
This way, it was very difficult for fugitives to venture beyond the territory before being apprehended.
Utah knew the army protocols, and so did Perry and Jacob, who had both served briefly, as they had been respectable runners. To maintain appearances, Jacob and Perry knew they had to keep a furious escape pace to make the situation look realistic.
“If we can arrive at the checkpoint before the runners, which I think we can, we will secure the guards there and can stay ahead of any pursuit.” Utah struggled to speak his mind as they bolted east. This direction was less fortified, and the checkpoints had fewer soldiers. The road ran close to the lake on their left side with the rising foothills on their right.
“Your father arranged more help for us,” shared a panting Perry.
“Oh? Like what?”
“There will be some guys meeting us out here so we have more muscle.” Perry thought it best to ensure that Utah would not be alarmed when they came upon the “help.”
“That’s great. I didn’t know how to handle the checkpoint … just the three of us.”
In the dark of night, the men struggled not to trip or stray from the road while running at full speed. After some distance, two men presented themselves on the road just a couple of miles before the checkpoint. Under the sliver of the moon, they appeared as dark silhouettes. Utah, who was leading, slowed the pace as they approached.
“Are you sure these are the guys?”
“Should be,” answered Perry.
As they approached the men and stopped, Perry did the talking. “This is Utah. We need to get him to Victory.” As Perry said these words, he and Jacob distanced themselves from Utah, thereby clarifying the target.
“Hey,” croaked one of the large men.
They walked up to Utah and suddenly raised their spears. Meanwhile, Jacob and Perry pulled their knives to block his retreat. Suddenly, one of the big men lunged, spear in hand.
This happened as Utah had turned to glance behind him, taking note that a conspiracy was at hand. Catching sight of the motion in his peripheral vision, he attempted to move. But despite his quick reflexes, the spear caught him in his side, and he cried out. He grabbed the spear before the man could try to pull it away, and he yanked the man toward him with all of his might.
Then, when the man’s resistance was at its peak, he tried to pull away, but Utah let go, allowing the spear to rip free. He cried out again as the man stumbled backward.
Then, with lightning speed, Utah bolted to the left, running just ten steps toward the lake and down a rocky slope before diving off a six-foot-high cliff and into the choppy water below. The other four men ran in pursuit, but by the time they reached the lake’s edge, Utah was already five strokes into a sprint.
“Go after him!” Perry barked at the hired muscle, but they just looked at him stubbornly, showing no such inclination.
“You bastards have been paid handsomely! And he is injured!
What are you waiting for?”
At this point, the men dropped their spears, removed their shirts, and dove in after Utah. It was clear that they could swim, but their skills were nothing like Utah’s, and he was already off in the distance.
“Shit!” exclaimed Perry in anger. “Let’s head up the road and see if he tries to swim in.”
“Let’s go!” responded Jacob in a daze. The men ran up the trail, looking down to the left in an attempt to see the positions of Utah and the two men pursuing him. Utah knew that he was in trouble, but he wasn’t sure just how badly injured he was. The injury didn’t seem to affect his swimming ability too much. He was running on pure adrenaline. But he was losing some blood. He knew that he couldn’t go back to shore, where they would be waiting. But they wouldn’t go to the checkpoint. Or would they? He wasn’t sure what to do.
He decided to keep swimming. Keep swimming until I can’t swim any longer. I will swim across this whole damn lake if I need to!
And this is what he did. Utah turned away from shore and picked a line that would take him at least five miles to the shoreline far beyond the checkpoint. It would be somewhere between the checkpoints that dotted the far side of the lake. If he lived to reach shore, he would figure it out from there. He set a pace and plied ahead at a speed that no man within many miles could match. His training and lifestyle were now his assets. As Perry and Jacob ran along the shore road, they could barely see Utah, but they could see enough to know that he was headed away from them.
“Oh, man! What do we do now?” lamented Jacob.
“Shit!” Perry stopped running, looking out at Utah and seeing the two large men floundering and no longer even heading in the same direction as Utah.
“You and I need to get out of here. We are still in the clear. Only that one guard saw us, and he has no clue who we are. We can handle it later.”
“But there will be runners coming up behind us soon,” reasoned Jacob. “Let’s head up into the hills until they pass.”
“Good idea. Let’s do that.”
They scrambled up the hill to higher ground, where they could wait and observe.
The two big men pulled themselves out of the water just short of the checkpoint. They were now concerned about their own situation and how they would explain what they were doing out there.
“They might know that he was with two other guys,” said one of the big men, who was panting and dripping wet.
“They might think we are those guys. We are screwed, man.”
“No! Our story is that we chased the guys. We saw them and followed them. Then, we fought, we got the guy with the spear, and they all swam off,” the other big man countered.
“I think our best move is to walk back a ways and then sit and wait until the runners come. Otherwise, we’ll look guilty.”
“No. Let’s go hide. They will force us to come with them. Shit! We gotta pay back the money.”
“Okay. Let’s go up into the hills and get back before daylight without anybody seeing us.”
The men agreed and made their way across the road and up into the hills.
The manhunt went on for many days, but Utah was never found. The prison guard—the one key witness who could identify the other coconspirators—was found dead at his home, with a knife in his back.
Several weeks later, Marina’s new, fully decorated apartment was presented to her by her grandfather. He apologized that there was not more light. He also noted that he was always able to think clearly when surrounded by the magical red earth and rock of Eden. It was his place of refuge, meditation, and thought, and it was where he was able to generate new ideas. The bedroom was where the dining room had once been.
Chris was jubilant and high-spirited about the whole affair. The gesture had produced the precise effect that Moey had predicted: it had built Chris’s confidence. Now that he felt that he was in the clear with regard to Rex’s death, he waited impatiently to receive his due.
His impatience was short-lived, as Ramius Jr died in his sleep one week later. His various written instructions were reviewed and carried out by the council. The swearing-in ceremony for Christopher took place three days later. As he sat in the chair for the first time since he was a young boy who was merely pretending, he felt a sudden rush. He felt the power that was at his immediate disposal. But at the same time, he felt fear—fear that there was now so much to lose. He felt a wave of anxiety fueled by paranoia. In the space of those few moments, Christopher went from bad to something a bit worse.
But despite his mixed feelings, as the procession of dignitaries approached him on the chair to pay their respects, he smiled.
He even laughed.
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