THREE
THE MYSTERIOUS PR. KENNER
I
THE MYSTERIOUS PR. KENNER
I
The next day was a cold wet gloomy Thursday evening of early March. Willowdene University Main Square was empty but for a few unlucky students that had to suffer the ruthless weather. They rushed into nearby bars or took cover wherever they could after struggling across the great expanse of the Square. Some shook the rain from their hair, others simply removed soaking wet hats and scarves. Only a tallish young man with thick brown hair and slouching shoulders was still outside striding past the now deserted Main Square. It was quarter to five and the sun had all but vanished from view. Alexander had lost patience and was definitely in a bad mood. But it wasn’t just the rain.
‘I’m cursed, I can’t explain it otherwise. Yesterday we nearly had our bodies blown to bits, today it’s the bloody rain… Why is Main Square so long?’
Alexander was soaked to the skin and he could feel drops of rain trickling down his neck even though he had pulled his jacket collar up and was holding it tight. A sudden deafening peal of thunder made him jump. The Square was momentarily lit up by lightning and Alexander caught sight of a figure a short distance ahead of him. He screwed up his eyes but could not see clearly through the rain. It seemed to be someone hunched up, looking for something on the wet paving stones of the square.
Funny, thought Alexander. Quasimodo type.
As Alexander got near, the figure twisted his head round to look up at him. Alexander’s heart stopped. The face was horribly disfigured with what seemed to be the scars of terrible burns. Eyes too big for the face focused vacantly on Alexander and the lips were moving in some sort of monologue. His clothes were filthy rags, torn in a dozen places. And a stench reached Alexander’s nostrils, bad enough to make him hold back.
Shit! Ugly as hell and that smell, humph! Hasn’t had a shower in years! thought Alexander and shuddered. He tried to reroute but the hunchback shot out a claw-like hand and grabbed hold of Alexander’s arm, holding it like a vice. The beggar thrust his repulsive face close to Alexander’s. His breath stank like something rotten.
‘He’s waiting for you. Polaris.’
‘What?’ Alexander said taking a step back. Unpleasant chilly gusts of wind swept rain onto Alexander’s face but he was unable to move from the spot.
All of a sudden, a fork of white fire tore through the sky. The mad scarecrow of a man shifted his gaze to the dark sky and touched his face with his fingertips. Alexander thought he looked just like an ape, with his head at an angle, body hunched over. Then, in a flash, the man turned and ran away, vanishing from view into the wet mist. The young Greek looked around him nervously. He was alone in the square.
Whatever, thought Alexander, shivering from cold or… something else. Another peal of thunder made him wonder if the man had perhaps been struck by lightning at some time. Still uneasy with yesterday’s terrorist memory, Alexander left the square and trudged on in the direction of Dr. Banshin’s rooms. He was curious about the ragged man but didn’t want to jinx his good luck any further than he had to. It was fortunate enough that the eccentric virus had abandoned its apocalyptic plans for destruction.
Then he grunted with disgust. His jacket was useless now. Raindrops spattered on his head hitting him like tiny hammers. His thoughts now raced ahead to the much-expected meeting with Dr. Banshin, an unsolved mystery in itself. Alexander plodded on, his mood lifting as he reached the History Department’s automatic doors.
II
A strange quietness had settled in the Fat Lady today, as was the case with the rest of the Main Campus. A veil of fear still lingered and, despite the reassurances of anti-terrorist officials about the safety of Willowdene, many chose to ignore this part of the campus. Who could blame them if all they wanted was to live? The few who dared to cross the rainy Main Square did so without slowing down. But there were some who defied the universe and its generosity to spare Willowdene from a cyber-terrorist virus. One in particular sat on his own at the Fat Lady pub and savoured his drink.
Theo Kemal wasn’t afraid of death, at least not any more. He used to be, when he was younger. He had grown up in fear back in Turkey, and had spent most of his childhood fighting bullies at school and in the streets. His parents were wealthy and that had always been his curse. Older kids would follow him around at school, steal his money and beat him every time he resisted. Theo was a crap fighter but some good had come out of it. He was no longer afraid of bullies and this Black Talon program was just another pest, nothing more.
‘Hello there.’ Theo was too absorbed in his thoughts, he never heard the other one coming. It was the person he was supposed to meet.
‘Aristo, right?’ Theo asked and the short fellow with the spiky red hair nodded and sat down.
‘I’m sorry for bringing you here on a day like this, Theo but my schedule won’t allow any deviations. Whew! It’s so nice and warm here. The weather outside sucks. Everything’s wet and cold!’ Theo shrugged. He didn’t think much of this short unimpressive guy.
‘It’s good then you weren’t here yesterday’ he replied with a chuckle. ‘The hostages from yesterday, they wouldn’t be anywhere near this place now. I know I wouldn’t!’
‘I was here yesterday actually.’ Theo looked at him as if he were an alien. ‘I… survived and now, there is business to be done, so…’
‘Okay… sure’ Theo answered, awed. His whole outlook of Aristo had changed at once.
‘I need to ask you something Theo, something I ask all my clients before we proceed.’ He fixed the young Turk with small bright eyes. ‘What is your dream, Theo?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘All people have dreams! Some want to be rich! Don’t you have any?’
‘Of course’ Theo snapped. Then a little uneasily ‘it’s not money that I need. I…’ he hesitated and looked at his drink thoughtfully. Aristo laid a friendly hand on his shoulder.
‘Our dreams, our deepest hopes; not easy to bring them out to a stranger. But believe me Theo, I’m only here to help you. If you need a new life, then perhaps I can give it to you. My organisation has saved many people that way.’ Theo however shook his head.
‘No… you don’t understand. I keep no dreams for myself, no ambitions! I want to help those who are harassed by others simply because they’re too weak to defend themselves!’ Aristo smiled warmly but there was disappointment in his spectacled eyes.
‘Surely there must be something you want for yourself!’
‘No. I went through hell when I was a kid. I don’t want others to suffer the same. No, all the dreams in the world cannot help me. Perhaps you could make me very rich and powerful as you say though I wouldn’t like to end up like my parents while others are still bullied.’
‘But you can’t save everybody, Theo! Things are very hard out in the real world. Here is a chance for you to move on, acquire assets before others do!’ But Theo had made up his mind. He got up.
‘I have a destiny my friend. I cannot abandon those who need help. Otherwise, we are no longer human. I’m sorry. Good day.’ Aristo watched him leave and sighed. The Union couldn’t afford any further losses now, not after the unexpected Orient strike. Morale was low and fresh recruitments were needed. The Orients were more successful in that aspect and Aristo suspected that Theo was already considering their offer. Like Wolf, Theo was a special case and the Occident Union had to capitalize its fair share of the spoils.
III
Once inside the History Department, Alexander headed straight for the office of Dr. Banshin. He knew the way of course, for he met his supervisor almost on a daily basis. Alexander had many dreams about the future but the strongest of them shone like a bright torch in his mind. He reached a long corridor whose walls were hung with images of the faculty’s former teaching staff. Alexander envied those people, their success, and the easy-going lifestyle they enjoyed. Hot steaming coffee every morning and lots of research in a snug office somewhere without being disturbed. That was the future Alexander sought; life in a protected environment and peace of mind.
At last he reached the familiar dark green door of his supervisor’s office and knocked. A clear youthful voice answered him almost immediately.
‘Yes? Come in.’
‘Hello Doctor, it’s me, Alexander. Sorry I was late, but the weather…’
‘Yes of course, I understand. Please sit down, I’ll only be a moment.’
Alexander went to a chair of soft leather and sat down. He had been in Dr. Banshin’s office several times before of course for he was the supervisor of his research. The Doctor’s office was always littered with countless stacks of paper on the floor, the shelves and on his desk. There were also books of all kinds in huge piles in the corners of the room. The office was dark and gloomy; the sun’s rays never actually penetrated its small window. Fortunately, the walls were filled with framed photographs, a cheerful trace of colour in the room. The Doctor himself was a keen traveller of strange and exotic locations Alexander wasn’t entirely familiar with. The Doctor’s archaic though still trustworthy camera had captured breathtaking projections of fearsome volcanoes, exotic cities caught in a fiery sunset, pictures of endless meadows filled with blooming flowers of purple and blue; sites of ancient cities whose ruins still spoke of some magnificent beauty that was lost…
‘I think its time we left now’ Dr. Banshin said finally. ‘Your new supervisor is a kind man but I don’t imagine he enjoys waiting.’
IV
Aristo knocked on the door but there was no answer. He tried again but if anybody was inside, they didn’t want to be disturbed. But the Occident Union representative of Willowdene wasn’t a defeatist.
‘Wolf, it’s me, Aristo. We need to talk.’ Silence. ‘Look, I know you’re in there and I know you haven’t come out since yesterday. I called our CEO and she has drawn out a plan but we have to work together. Don’t shut me out like this.’ After a few moments of further silence, the door was unlocked. Aristo opened it and carefully stepped in.
The room was dark and the curtains were drawn. No light, no clean air had been allowed in for two days. There was heaviness in the atmosphere, a brooding fire of anger and desperation. Aristo saw Wolf seated in his chair and felt the Spartan’s fury.
‘Say what you’ve got to say then get the hell out!’
Aristo tried to calm him down.
‘Please Wolf, things are not as bad as they look…’ Wolf sprang from his seat like a fire dragon. Aristo froze in fear.
‘Yeah, that’s what all of you high-ranking Union crap doers keep saying. But it all falls down on our heads; the grunts, those who thought they could rebuild their lives!’ Aristo spotted a desk lamp in the dim light and turned it on.
‘Listen my friend I think I understand how it feels to not fit somewhere. You feel second-class, dumped, useless…’
The towering Spartan nodded nervously.
‘Yes and it was the first time things were going right for me! I received a personal message from our CEO, Aurora. Few like me ever receive such things from her! She appreciated my role in promoting the fortunes of the Union.’ Wolf balled his fists. ‘How could I not feel broken when I failed to protect all of this work?’
‘I’ve spoken with Aurora herself Wolf. She will not disband you from the Occident Union. There was nothing you could do anyway!’ But Wolf didn’t believe him.
‘No, there is definitely something I can do about these hackers! I don’t know what but I feel it inside me. It burns, but I can do it!’ Aristo swallowed nervously.
‘Sure but that’s not what Aurora has in mind. She wants you to do something for her and it is important that you do it.’ As if awoken from hibernation, Wolf listened intently to Aurora’s pla
V
Alexander and Dr. Banshin had already left the Department and were moving away from the Main Campus area, with its offices, student services, Amphitheatre Halls, libraries and recreation facilities. They were now heading for Eastern Campus. This side was not as densely built on as the rest of the University. It housed only a small number of student residences and a few research laboratories that were used by the Natural Sciences faculty.
Like the rest of Willowdene University, most of Eastern Campus was screened by a wood. There was a path that cut right through it, leading to the labs as well as to an old mansion, recently renovated and being used as tutors’ offices. The Professor’s study was there. They were now on the fringes of the forest. The harsh rainy weather, final gasps of a dying winter shortly to be replaced by a fresh smiling spring, pounded them mercilessly and joined forces with fierce gusts of wind that stung their faces. In contrast to Alexander, who was experiencing renewed discomfort at the elements, Dr. Banshin was at peace with the downpour from above and did not seem to be disturbed. They walked the rest of the way in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.
At last they reached the mansion. Alexander had only been here once or twice, when he had been exploring the area with Wolf. He had noticed the mansion before but had never crossed its threshold. It was a simple two-storey design of a neoclassical style and articulated by a small Corinthian rhythm portico at the front. Dr. Banshin told him that the mansion had originally belonged to an old English aristocrat who had passed away several years before and donated the house to Willowdene. The house had been renovated by the University and used as offices that were reserved for the chosen ones, university teaching staff and scholars who desired a more solitary working environment. Pr. Kenner’s office was situated on the second floor. As they ascended the highly polished wooden staircase leading to Kenner’s office, Dr. Banshin laid a hand on Alexander’s shoulder.
‘Please don’t feel awkward with the Professor. He is a bit strange, but that’s only because he enjoys his privacy.’
Alexander merely nodded, allowing himself to be led up to the door of his new supervisor. The Doctor knocked on the door and after a few heartbeats, a muffled and slightly annoyed voice invited them in.
‘Come in, Doctor. Please have a seat… and you as well, young man.’
The Professor indicated two chairs identical to those in Dr. Banshin’s office. As they sat down, Alexander felt the man’s inquisitive eyes fixed on him, studying his every move. Such intense staring made Alexander uncomfortable and he felt as if the Professor wished to read his very innermost thoughts. Alexander in turn, examined the mysterious Professor. Kenner’s external appearance did not differ much from that of a typical university scholar but he barely approached the image Alexander had shaped in his mind of a short, bearded, intense elderly man sitting under a lampshade, his eyes lost in the pages of an enormous dusty book. Instead, the professor was quite tall, about Alexander’s height, skinny and bald with a pair of indistinct spectacles so unlike Dr. Banshin’s thick- framed ones. But it was his gaze that impressed Alexander the most; always on the alert, his steely eyes seemingly missed nothing.
Alexander felt almost disappointed, though the mystery and aura of his new supervisor had not entirely evaporated. He was also mystified by Kenner’s choice to be isolated, out here on the outskirts of Willowdene Campus. Pr. Kenner’s expression became thoughtful as his eyes fell upon Alexander again. One might think that the old man somehow knew him from before. The young Greek felt uneasy again and would certainly have asked the professor if he had had the necessary courage.
‘So, I presume Dr. Banshin has updated you on the situation?’ said Pr. Kenner as he leaned back on his seat. Alexander nodded.
‘I know it sounds a bit awkward to you, young man. Michael here has done a great job helping you reach the level you are now. So why all this rush and secrecy? Well, partly because people like me hate all campus bureaucratic nonsense. It would have been weeks before Michael left for Boston! Also, for reasons that are of no consequence to you Alexander and do not affect your studies here.’ Alexander said nothing but it was not shyness that kept him silent. There was strength in the professor, a balanced force of confidence and kindness one couldn’t disrupt easily. Something caught Alexander’s eye on the wall behind the professor.
It was a golden plaque with an inscription on it. Alexander couldn’t make out all the words but he discerned the name Orient Triumvirate, which was enough to shock him. What was going on here? He saw Kenner and Dr. Banshin watching him now intently. Suddenly, Kenner got up and moved to the window which overlooked part of Eastern Campus and its fabulous lawns. It had stopped raining and a strange silence settled over this part of Willowdene as if the cosmos itself waited for Kenner’s explanation.
‘There is something you should know, young Alexander’ the professor said ‘and it involves you, your friends and the reason why you were all sent to study here.’
Like the rest of Willowdene University, most of Eastern Campus was screened by a wood. There was a path that cut right through it, leading to the labs as well as to an old mansion, recently renovated and being used as tutors’ offices. The Professor’s study was there. They were now on the fringes of the forest. The harsh rainy weather, final gasps of a dying winter shortly to be replaced by a fresh smiling spring, pounded them mercilessly and joined forces with fierce gusts of wind that stung their faces. In contrast to Alexander, who was experiencing renewed discomfort at the elements, Dr. Banshin was at peace with the downpour from above and did not seem to be disturbed. They walked the rest of the way in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.
At last they reached the mansion. Alexander had only been here once or twice, when he had been exploring the area with Wolf. He had noticed the mansion before but had never crossed its threshold. It was a simple two-storey design of a neoclassical style and articulated by a small Corinthian rhythm portico at the front. Dr. Banshin told him that the mansion had originally belonged to an old English aristocrat who had passed away several years before and donated the house to Willowdene. The house had been renovated by the University and used as offices that were reserved for the chosen ones, university teaching staff and scholars who desired a more solitary working environment. Pr. Kenner’s office was situated on the second floor. As they ascended the highly polished wooden staircase leading to Kenner’s office, Dr. Banshin laid a hand on Alexander’s shoulder.
‘Please don’t feel awkward with the Professor. He is a bit strange, but that’s only because he enjoys his privacy.’
Alexander merely nodded, allowing himself to be led up to the door of his new supervisor. The Doctor knocked on the door and after a few heartbeats, a muffled and slightly annoyed voice invited them in.
‘Come in, Doctor. Please have a seat… and you as well, young man.’
The Professor indicated two chairs identical to those in Dr. Banshin’s office. As they sat down, Alexander felt the man’s inquisitive eyes fixed on him, studying his every move. Such intense staring made Alexander uncomfortable and he felt as if the Professor wished to read his very innermost thoughts. Alexander in turn, examined the mysterious Professor. Kenner’s external appearance did not differ much from that of a typical university scholar but he barely approached the image Alexander had shaped in his mind of a short, bearded, intense elderly man sitting under a lampshade, his eyes lost in the pages of an enormous dusty book. Instead, the professor was quite tall, about Alexander’s height, skinny and bald with a pair of indistinct spectacles so unlike Dr. Banshin’s thick- framed ones. But it was his gaze that impressed Alexander the most; always on the alert, his steely eyes seemingly missed nothing.
Alexander felt almost disappointed, though the mystery and aura of his new supervisor had not entirely evaporated. He was also mystified by Kenner’s choice to be isolated, out here on the outskirts of Willowdene Campus. Pr. Kenner’s expression became thoughtful as his eyes fell upon Alexander again. One might think that the old man somehow knew him from before. The young Greek felt uneasy again and would certainly have asked the professor if he had had the necessary courage.
‘So, I presume Dr. Banshin has updated you on the situation?’ said Pr. Kenner as he leaned back on his seat. Alexander nodded.
‘I know it sounds a bit awkward to you, young man. Michael here has done a great job helping you reach the level you are now. So why all this rush and secrecy? Well, partly because people like me hate all campus bureaucratic nonsense. It would have been weeks before Michael left for Boston! Also, for reasons that are of no consequence to you Alexander and do not affect your studies here.’ Alexander said nothing but it was not shyness that kept him silent. There was strength in the professor, a balanced force of confidence and kindness one couldn’t disrupt easily. Something caught Alexander’s eye on the wall behind the professor.
It was a golden plaque with an inscription on it. Alexander couldn’t make out all the words but he discerned the name Orient Triumvirate, which was enough to shock him. What was going on here? He saw Kenner and Dr. Banshin watching him now intently. Suddenly, Kenner got up and moved to the window which overlooked part of Eastern Campus and its fabulous lawns. It had stopped raining and a strange silence settled over this part of Willowdene as if the cosmos itself waited for Kenner’s explanation.
‘There is something you should know, young Alexander’ the professor said ‘and it involves you, your friends and the reason why you were all sent to study here.’
VI
The study room grew silent but Kenner’s words still hung in the air.
‘I’m not sure I understand professor. Sent to study?’ Both Kenner and Banshin nodded.
‘Indeed’ the professor said. ‘You must know that you and the others, your friends, have had someone fund your studies here since year one, correct? What you don’t know is that the institution that did it was not some local grant-awarding club, but an international organisation.’
‘It was us, I mean the organisation we work for, the Orient Triumvirate’ added Dr. Banshin. But Alexander shook his head.
‘I don’t get it’ he replied. ‘What I understood yesterday was that Orion works for the Orients while Wolf for another group, the Occidents. The two groups aren’t very fond of each other. ’ Kenner walked back to his desk and sat down.
‘Yes, that’s true’ he retorted. ‘You see, these two organisations compete with each other not just here on Willowdene, but all over the world, for both are after the same prize.’
‘Which is?’ asked Alexander. Kenner pointed at Alexander with a bony finger.
‘You of course! Both organisations constantly need young members… Perhaps you too might consider working for the Triumvirate. The benefits they offer mean a great deal to young people.’ There was hesitation and nervousness in the professor’s voice. Alexander felt the old man was holding back something important connected to him.
‘Why would I want to work for these organisations’ Alexander wondered. ‘What is it that they do exactly?’
The professor leaned on his desk.
‘Let me put it this way. There are many theories as to what shape our world should take in the 21st century. Barring of course the scenario of World War III, some believe that humanity is becoming dependent on technology to such an extent that integration with machines will soon be inevitable. Many who believe that such a world is possible, even beautiful in this way belong to the Occident Union, a technocratic organisation dedicated to promoting the ideals of man-machine interface to the younger generations. The Occidents also think that the science of the new age can fulfil any dream that we have and soon, we may even achieve immortality!’ Alexander listened carefully to everything Kenner said. He was starting to like his new supervisor.
‘What about your people, the Orients?’
‘Yes. There are those who are wary of this new age, Alexander and for good reasons too. The biggest problem is the pace with which new technologies are being developed! Every day there is something new to learn, the latest miracle gadget that will change our lives. We are being overwhelmed by machines, Alexander, a world where mathematic principles, not matters of the heart, are important. The Triumvirate has a motto: “The future belongs to the past”.’
‘But we can’t ignore the fact that people’s lives are saved because of technology!’ said Alexander. Kenner shrugged.
‘True. But we also have to consider the price to pay. At this rate, in twenty years we will be more artificial than organic. Traditions and customs that once made sense to people are being discarded like trash! Institutions like the family; there are more divorces than marriages. Religions are rapidly fading away like echoes. Old rituals, ancient languages, even the love for one’s country, all are being washed away by the tide of technocracy. All in the name of efficiency and a lack of time. No Alexander. There are still those who believe in the human heart! We are fighting to save our world, young man. The Occidents are fighting to change it.’
‘So what does all that have to do with me and my friends?’
A bitter smile marked Kenner’s lips.
‘Alexander, you are the next generation! Millions just like you have to choose which way this will go. We can only hope you make the right choice.’
‘I’m not sure I understand professor. Sent to study?’ Both Kenner and Banshin nodded.
‘Indeed’ the professor said. ‘You must know that you and the others, your friends, have had someone fund your studies here since year one, correct? What you don’t know is that the institution that did it was not some local grant-awarding club, but an international organisation.’
‘It was us, I mean the organisation we work for, the Orient Triumvirate’ added Dr. Banshin. But Alexander shook his head.
‘I don’t get it’ he replied. ‘What I understood yesterday was that Orion works for the Orients while Wolf for another group, the Occidents. The two groups aren’t very fond of each other. ’ Kenner walked back to his desk and sat down.
‘Yes, that’s true’ he retorted. ‘You see, these two organisations compete with each other not just here on Willowdene, but all over the world, for both are after the same prize.’
‘Which is?’ asked Alexander. Kenner pointed at Alexander with a bony finger.
‘You of course! Both organisations constantly need young members… Perhaps you too might consider working for the Triumvirate. The benefits they offer mean a great deal to young people.’ There was hesitation and nervousness in the professor’s voice. Alexander felt the old man was holding back something important connected to him.
‘Why would I want to work for these organisations’ Alexander wondered. ‘What is it that they do exactly?’
The professor leaned on his desk.
‘Let me put it this way. There are many theories as to what shape our world should take in the 21st century. Barring of course the scenario of World War III, some believe that humanity is becoming dependent on technology to such an extent that integration with machines will soon be inevitable. Many who believe that such a world is possible, even beautiful in this way belong to the Occident Union, a technocratic organisation dedicated to promoting the ideals of man-machine interface to the younger generations. The Occidents also think that the science of the new age can fulfil any dream that we have and soon, we may even achieve immortality!’ Alexander listened carefully to everything Kenner said. He was starting to like his new supervisor.
‘What about your people, the Orients?’
‘Yes. There are those who are wary of this new age, Alexander and for good reasons too. The biggest problem is the pace with which new technologies are being developed! Every day there is something new to learn, the latest miracle gadget that will change our lives. We are being overwhelmed by machines, Alexander, a world where mathematic principles, not matters of the heart, are important. The Triumvirate has a motto: “The future belongs to the past”.’
‘But we can’t ignore the fact that people’s lives are saved because of technology!’ said Alexander. Kenner shrugged.
‘True. But we also have to consider the price to pay. At this rate, in twenty years we will be more artificial than organic. Traditions and customs that once made sense to people are being discarded like trash! Institutions like the family; there are more divorces than marriages. Religions are rapidly fading away like echoes. Old rituals, ancient languages, even the love for one’s country, all are being washed away by the tide of technocracy. All in the name of efficiency and a lack of time. No Alexander. There are still those who believe in the human heart! We are fighting to save our world, young man. The Occidents are fighting to change it.’
‘So what does all that have to do with me and my friends?’
A bitter smile marked Kenner’s lips.
‘Alexander, you are the next generation! Millions just like you have to choose which way this will go. We can only hope you make the right choice.’
VII
Wolf was on his own again, alone in the darkness of his room. The curtains were still drawn, the stiffness in the air remained. But something was different this time. Aristo had come to the rescue after the devastating Orient strike. Wolf had thought he was finished with the Union, yet Aurora had brought him back and assigned him a new mandate. The Spartan should have been grateful, should somehow have expressed his gratitude. And yet he did not know whether to cry or laugh with his CEO’s new plan. Aristo’s words had been very specific.
‘Our mistress has instructed us to become the liaisons, the go-between for Orients and Occidents here on Willowdene. Aurora wants peace and she has every reason to believe that Diana, mistress of the Orients wants the same too. We must become the symbols of unity between the two sides, to approach and befriend Orion and those who were instructed to carry out the senseless attack. There must be harmony between Orients and Occidents, otherwise the cycle of pain and retribution will continue forever.’
Oh yeah, Aurora relied a lot on Aristo and now she wanted Wolf to assist him. Could the Spartan do it?
They’ve pulled our shorts down and now she wants us to thank them and… apologise for any inconvenience we may have caused! Man this whole thing is so freaky! I’m all alone now. A loud ringing noise broke Wolf’s thoughts. It was his cell phone.
‘Yes?’
‘Hello, Wolf. I don’t think you know me but I know many things about you. I believe I can help you my friend, and in a way you can help me too. My name is Lazarus and we need to talk.’
‘Our mistress has instructed us to become the liaisons, the go-between for Orients and Occidents here on Willowdene. Aurora wants peace and she has every reason to believe that Diana, mistress of the Orients wants the same too. We must become the symbols of unity between the two sides, to approach and befriend Orion and those who were instructed to carry out the senseless attack. There must be harmony between Orients and Occidents, otherwise the cycle of pain and retribution will continue forever.’
Oh yeah, Aurora relied a lot on Aristo and now she wanted Wolf to assist him. Could the Spartan do it?
They’ve pulled our shorts down and now she wants us to thank them and… apologise for any inconvenience we may have caused! Man this whole thing is so freaky! I’m all alone now. A loud ringing noise broke Wolf’s thoughts. It was his cell phone.
‘Yes?’
‘Hello, Wolf. I don’t think you know me but I know many things about you. I believe I can help you my friend, and in a way you can help me too. My name is Lazarus and we need to talk.’
VIII
It was no longer raining but the troubled night sky above was still loaded with heavy storm clouds. The harsh wind too had subsided, though a cool breeze lingered in the atmosphere. The pungent scent of damp earth and grass filled the nostrils of the two men as they strolled back towards the main campus. They passed along the dark narrow corridor of trees, shadowy guardians and a vital part of the small forest that surrounded Willowdene University. Nothing here resembled the catatonic blizzard that had forced its way into Pr. Kenner’s office. Michael was the first to break the silence.
‘Well Alexander, what do you think of your new supervisor?’ The young Greek didn’t answer immediately.
‘I think he is a remarkable man’ he said finally. ‘He really believes in his role as Orient.’ Michael smiled in response.
‘But there is something I wanted to ask and I forgot. What do you know about yesterday’s attack against the Occident cyber network?’
Dr. Banshin lowered his head. Obviously it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. He sighed.
‘There was supposed to be some sort of understanding between the two sides, some peace deal. The Orients broke the deal though I believe that some hardliner cast of their leadership may have caused it. Neither Pr. Kenner nor I condone such activities.’
‘Tell me about it!’ said Alexander. ‘Wolf blamed Orion for the attack and he nearly killed him. He would have done it for real!’ ‘Yes I think I know why an Occident would do that. They fight to make their dreams come true. Being an Occident means you reject who you were and accept the new identity you build in a world of machines! Do you realise how important this is to them? And if Orion wounded Wolf’s pride in some way, then he made a mistake.’
‘Well Alexander, what do you think of your new supervisor?’ The young Greek didn’t answer immediately.
‘I think he is a remarkable man’ he said finally. ‘He really believes in his role as Orient.’ Michael smiled in response.
‘But there is something I wanted to ask and I forgot. What do you know about yesterday’s attack against the Occident cyber network?’
Dr. Banshin lowered his head. Obviously it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. He sighed.
‘There was supposed to be some sort of understanding between the two sides, some peace deal. The Orients broke the deal though I believe that some hardliner cast of their leadership may have caused it. Neither Pr. Kenner nor I condone such activities.’
‘Tell me about it!’ said Alexander. ‘Wolf blamed Orion for the attack and he nearly killed him. He would have done it for real!’ ‘Yes I think I know why an Occident would do that. They fight to make their dreams come true. Being an Occident means you reject who you were and accept the new identity you build in a world of machines! Do you realise how important this is to them? And if Orion wounded Wolf’s pride in some way, then he made a mistake.’
