Project Empress 016

(Chapter 4 continued) 

After they had finished their meal, Cara started to explore the functions of her new book. Slow and deliberate at first, she was in awe of the artefact. So it was all slow movements and pointy fingers. Walter laughed when he saw that while he was cleaning the table.

“That one is made to be taken into the field, go ahead, have a proper look”, he said. 

Cara tried to smile. The smile died a hero’s death. She kept exploring the new device though and as she did, her professional curiosity started to take over. The e-ink display was one of the best she had ever seen, almost the size of a regular magazine. It was actually four displays joined together on one side, allowing the writer to turn over the pages while reading or writing. The next page was always updated to the next or to a new page. When writing, it sent the information into the internal storage. The colour display in the book cover was touch sensitive. There was a wide variety of connectors hidden under well isolated covers. It even had several cables that integrated into the body of the book, that she could pull out to get power or transfer date. They automatically reeled themselves back in. She might have squealed out loud when she discovered that. 

Somehow a glass of read-wine had appeared next to her and Walter was sitting at the table again, reading the paper. 

“Sorry, I’m being silly”, Cara said.

Walter looked up from his paper, “Silly?”

“I just love technology”, she said.

“I did notice”, Walter said, “It´s actually nice to see a gift have such an effect.”

“But having someone get this exited over technology…”

Walter just looked at her, blinked and said, “If you are trying to go somewhere with that train of thought, I’m not sure I can follow you…”

“Well you are old…”

“Hey!”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you!”, Cara said, flushing red again and waving her hands in front of her. “I mean, like, you remember the golden age.”

“The golden age?”, Walter was more confused now.

“Yes the time before, the time of the Union.”

“Ah…”, Walter said leaning back in his chair again, exhaling slowly. “The ‘Union’… Well I don’t remember that much of it. I was still a kid when it still existed and what I remember was all manner of things, many of them unpleasant. And if there ever was a golden age, it was certainly not back then.”

“It wasn’t? But it was the time of the great European Union. The one world power that had come together united by their ideals of a peaceful world, built on the principles of cooperation and mutual benefit…” Cara wanted to say more but Walter interrupted her.

“It failed, Cara.” As he said this, a deep tiredness washed over him. “The Union failed.”

“Do you know why?”, Cara asked.

Walter shrugged. “Not really. My parents told me that it had always been a bumpy road, where the members couldn’t stop themselves from putting every stone imaginable in their own path of progress. But back then I really didn’t care about all that. By the time I was old enough to do so, the world was already burning and most member states were slowly destroyed from the inside by people who thought that they’d be stronger alone. That we had to fear the foreign. That everyone who wasn’t ‘us’ would destroy us… I never got that… who exactly was supposed to be “us”, how small did you have to go to find your own? Your state? Your local region? Your city?”, Walter took his glass of wine, looked at the liquid but couldn’t quite bring himself to drink it. He kept the glass in his hand, sniffing the aroma, almost as if that was as far as he was allowed to enjoy the wine. “What these people all had in common was that they dreamt of a mythical golden age, a past where everything was right and good. “

“When was that?”, Cara asked, trying to remember the golden ages of Europe but having trouble remembering any.

“Never”, Walter said, “If you ask me, there are no golden ages. There are just different times, some better than others. But no perfect ones. Yet there are these people who dream of this mythical ages were all was right. They get obsessed with it and will do everything to push everything back to that great age and for that, all they need to do is destroy everything that is ‘wrong’, which is pretty much everything and everyone that doesn’t agree with them.”

“So these people destroyed the Union?”

Walter looked up from his wine, he smiled faintly. “The ‘Union’ was the seedbed in which they grew. People don’t develop in a vacuum… In the end the Union probably killed itself…”

They both were silent for a while. Walter couldn't bring himself to have sip of wine, Cara was mostly confused.

“Does this mean,” Cara said, “that master Natalie is also one of these people?”

Walter looked at her confused, the spell of his wine broken for a moment. “On of what people?”

“The ones who dream of a mythical golden age?”

“Oh no”, Walter said, shaking his head, “no. These people dreamt of a past that never was. Nat looks at the past and at the promise it carried, but she dreams of the future.”

“Which reminds me”, Walter said, having a quick look at his watch, “where is she anyway?”

Which was the moment they heard some heavy bagging on the front door of the bar. 

“Speak of the devil”, he said, standing up; he was smiling, but as the bagging continued his smile flipped upside down. “God dammit Nat, I’m pretty sure I also showed you how to ring the fucking bell”, he stomped out of the flat, Cara following several steps behind him as it took her some time to decide whether to take the book with her or leave it on the table. In the end she decided to leave it for now, hurrying after Walter.

As she arrived at the bottom of the stairs she could hear Walter shout. 

“OK. OK. I’m opening the door already and Gods help you if you damaged it, Nat!”

Cara entered the bar and saw Walter open the door. 

“Who the fuck are you?”, said Walter.

Cara couldn’t really see past Walter, but there seemed to be at least two large guys standing in front of him. 

“Look old man, we don’t want any trouble.”, a voice said that Cara couldn’t quite place but which sounded vaguely familiar.

“Too late…”, Walter said.

“We have no business with you. We are just following a lead.”

“Huh… a lead…? You are not the church militia, are you cosplay detectives?”

“As I said, we have no dealings with you. We are not the church militia, but,” there was the rustling of paper, “but we are here on official business. As you can see me and my helpers represent the High Academy of Historical Fencing Arts Monasteria, which works under the patronage of Lord-bishop Waltharius of Monasteria.”

“I’m very sorry”, Walter said.

“I beg your pardon”, the voice said.

“Never mind”, Walter said, “and consider this the first of three warnings. You better come to the point and explain yourself or I will call the militia, or if you should cause any more trouble”, his eyes wandering to his mistreated door, “or damage to my property I will take care of you myself as per the church’s doctrine of sanctum sanctorum.”

There was a sigh. “As I said, we are not here for you. But we are looking for Cara Gibson Müller.”

“Never heard of her”, as Walter said this his stance shifted slightly. Behind his back he gestured to Cara to hide. Care moved back into the stairwell, closing the door leaving only a crack open to peek through it.

“We know that she frequents this establishment.”

“She obviously is not a regular and I also don’t ask my patrons for their names. So if you are done you can piss right off.”

“We are here on official academy business. Cara has been declared Proditor Perfidissimus by the academy.” 

Cara blanched. A traitor to the school? How? Why? 

“Lovely”, Walter said. “This has still nothing to do with my bar. So piss off and go look for your friend somewhere else.”

“She is not our friend”, the voice said. “Just let us have a look around the bar. This is a public establishment. Maybe she is hiding here or in the toilet. We´ll just have a quick look, grab her and we are out of your hair.”

“This is your second warning”, Walter said, his voice turning cold. “The bar is closed, I have the right of the owner and you are not going to step in here. You are not welcome and you have been warned.”

Another sigh. “Go on boys, help the old man have a seat.”

“And this is you last warning”, Walter said stepping back a few steps. “If you move even one millimetre over my threshold I will crush you.”

Cara had not turned away for even a second, the shock of what she’d just heard had rooted her to the spot, she also refused to have Walter fight these intruders alone. She was already working out a plan of how to sneak inside, where to rush, which chair to take and help him, when a large burly man fell crashing into said chair. Walter stood at the door now with a defence stick in his hand. The other man was rushing forward his defence stick, longer than regulation allowed and illegally banded with metal, descending towards Walter’s head. 

Walter blocked the attack with his new stick, his weapon sliding under the one of his attacker, hooking the lower part of it on the wrist of his attacker, pulling him down and forward. The attacker lost his balance and as he fell Walter punched him with his free hand in the solar plexus sending him flying over a table. 

“You can’t do that!”, the somewhat familiar voice screamed. 

Now Walter moved outside and as he did, Cara finally saw the third man, a blond man with a bandaged nose. The arsehole bully!

“Do you know who I am? My name is…”, he didn’t get any further because this was the moment when Walter had punched the stick into his stomach. As he doubled over, Walter punched him in the back of the head. The nameless arsehole crumpled to the floor.

“Walter!”, an accusing voice rang from the street. It was Natalie. “You started a party without me? How could you?”

“You’re late”, Walter said, “But you can help me with bringing out the trash.”

“But I wanted to have some fun…”

“Now”, Walter said, his voice carrying the message, that this wasn’t the time for jokes.

“Alright”, Natalie said. “How bad is it?”

“Not sure. But not good. Did you find a ship?”

“Aye.”

“Good, you and Cara need to leave the city as soon as possible.”