Ex Nihilo - Abyssal Prophecy

Chapter 3

Gabriel looked down at the room from his seat in the center of the raised platform. Sitting upon the throne, the captain of the Alcatraz looked the image of a king. The throne was made of pure gold and etched with silver edges that made the seat glisten in the light. The fabric was blood red. Intricate words were engraved into the chair, listing the chain of command, as well as the highest laws of the Alcatraz. The dark grey walls, stained with years of deterioration, were a stark contrast to the golden throne. Below the platform was the circular table of the great houses. From their seats, the lords and ladies were forced to look up at their master.

            “Leaders of the great houses, I have summoned you here today to discuss the emergency we now find ourselves facing. After a careful investigation, the rupture on the lowest ward was due to metal fatigue. There was no act of terrorism as I’ve heard some of you whispering to your people,” Gabriel proclaimed.

Kain stood like a statue beside him. Unwavering, unmoving, and emotionless, his hand on his pistol. He hated these meetings, but the duty of the first officer was to stand by the captain.

            The hushed whispers of the Lords and Ladies filled the room like the nattering of insects. Kain watched the allies discuss the matter. In moments like this, it was easy for him to see how divided the Alcatraz was. Spies had already told him about the whispers of treachery from just about every ward on the ship. He could see the shadows of revolution spreading from the Lords and tension filled the room like an invisible smog.

            “Great Captain Soloman, may I address the Crown?” A woman stood. Her hair was long, semi-braided and semi-matted. Bright crimson locks shone in the light. Her clothes were made of linen and showed stains of grime. On her shoulder rested the symbol of her house--the upside-down pig broken open with nothing coming out, the symbol of the clan Plebs.

            “Of course the first person to speak would be you, my daughter,” Gabriel sighed. “Lady Nemesis, you have the floor. Watch your tongue unless you’d like to end up the same as your twin sister.”

The room fell silent, and the only sound was the rattling of air being pumped in through the vents. All of the lords’ eyes widened and turned to her.

She glared at her father. Her sister had been executed as a traitor, but her stoic mask showed no signs of the tempest raging in her mind.

            “The ward that was hit was my territory. I’ve heard reports that we’re critically low on oxygen and supplies. I need to know what you expect me to do to placate the Plebs and their justified rage.”

            “You are to do your duty, daughter, and publicly execute any who whisper of treason!” Gabriel gripped his throne tightly, veins bulging along his forehead, his anger naked for all to see. “Perhaps I should execute you for failure and give your territory to someone else. I am sure there are many here who desire all you have.”

Kain watched as the table was turned on his sister, enmity burning towards these lords.

            “No, Captain. That will not be necessary,” Nemesis conceded, sitting back down.

Hissing and spitting, many of the lords called Nemesis a traitor. She paid them no mind. The whole ship knew about the bad blood between daughter and father, but her supporters remained quiet.

Gabriel slammed his fist three times on the arm of his throne, causing all to fall silent again.

            “There is truth to what my daughter said. Oxygen and supplies are at critically low levels, which is why I have summoned you all here. We must make a decision now to save this ship,” Gabriel informed them. “There is but one path available to us. We must cull our populations of the dregs who provide nothing.”

            Unable to control her burning anger, Nemesis snarled at her father. She knew what he was going to do and was unable to contain her emotions any longer. The Lower Wards were always the largest part of any cull on the Alcatraz.

Several of the lords at the table smiled at her without fear of reprisal.

She grasped her cup and took a drink to choke back her burning rage.

            “This seems to please you, Lord Whelsey.” Gabriel looked at the man. “Perhaps you have words for this gathering?”

            Standing up, Lord Whelsey stood out amongst the others. Gold and silver chains adorned his neck, his clothes were woven from the finest silk grown at an extreme expense to the ship, and his symbol of the three-pronged flower with a phoenix rising from flames glittered in the light. The position of both Lord and head of the Church had made it easy to acquire these valuable items because the faithful were always willing to sacrifice. Many of the lords at the table tried to hide their disgust, refusing even to look at the man. It was no burden to Whelsey, who enjoyed the hatred his righteousness brought on. He smiled, taking a moment to look directly at each of the lords, who averted their gaze. In his mind, he imagined burning each of them at the pyre, and he could almost hear the chorus of their ungodly screams.

            “My great and glorious captain, the Pious clan shall be more than willing to fulfill the Alcatraz’s needs. We shall sacrifice all those required by you, and they shall go joyful to the only equal of yours--the great Lord Jesus Christ. We would be content to give our blood and life to service your glory.” Lord Whelsey smiled, and all could see his stained and crooked teeth. In his mind, he knew the captain would exempt his people, and this showing of compassion would serve his people well. His God was always with him. “I am certain Christ will receive those who make such sacrifices into the glory of Heaven and forgive all of their sins.”

            “Thank you, Lord Whelsey, but the Alcatraz can ill afford to sacrifice the keepers of knowledge and wisdom of the Church and of the Ancients,” Gabriel declared.

A great rumbling erupted around the table, filling the room with the clamour of restrained rage. Slamming a fist down, Gabriel brought the whole room back to silence. “The culling will be as follows: One-half of the Plebs, Drudges, Gluttons, Praetorians, and Spinners, and one-tenth of the Forgers, Fleshweavers, Players, Keepers, and the Crats clans. The Pious, Executives, and Officer Clans will be exempt.”

            In unison, the leaders of the Drudges, Gluttons, Praetorians, and Spinners stood up in protest, and only Nemesis remained seated. Gabriel looked scornfully at the motley crew that he considered his enemies. Each of them was not only his enemies but also a threat to his rule and the safety of the Alcatraz. He didn’t react to their resistance. He knew his culling would put these dregs in their place and only smiled at his daughter. He then shifted his gaze to each of his enemies.

            The motley crew was made up of the massive Lord Cornelius whose clothes could barely contain his muscles. His body bore the scars of the lashes of the Executives. Lord Epicure was the largest of the group, weighing well over four hundred pounds. Lord Hector was adorned always in his armour. And, finally, Clotho, the blind elder woman. Gabriel knew each of them despised him, but fear kept them in line. Clan Officer controlled the largest number of troops, the old armoury, and the bridge. Even if the entire ship rebelled, he knew his clan could hold their own, and the bridge gave him ultimate control of every aspect of the ship. They might have harsh words or beg for a reprieve, but none would dare oppose him without weapons or armour.

He glanced at Kain to signal him to draw his pistol. Standing up, he intended to make an example of these people here and now to stamp out their defiance with words.

            “I expected nothing less from you four, but you should have followed Nemesis and remained silent,” Gabriel condemned. “You unpatriotic swine always whine about your people having to make sacrifices. You have no understanding of what it takes to keep this ship functional. I should have my first officer kill you now!”

Smiles crept across the faces of those spared from the culling. Lord Whelsey smiled cruelly, and his supporters followed suit. Lord Drumpf of the Executives Clan stood shoulder to shoulder with the leader of the Pious Clan, his puffed-out chest adorned in a wool suit emblazed with the symbol of a snake in hand.

            “How do you expect to feed the people of the ship if you kill half of the cooks and wenches, Great Captain?” Epicure asked.

            “Without my workers, this ship will grind to a halt. Our muscle is what keeps this ship alive,” Cornelius insisted.

            “My soldiers would be happy to die for you in a battle, great captain, but there is no honour in this sacrifice,” Hector lamented.

            Gabriel stared at the old blind woman, Clotho. He wondered why she had nothing to say. He feared this blind hag the most. She was cunning from her many years, and she knew the value of words and silence.

            “You stand in protest but say nothing, Lady Clotho?” Gabriel asked.

            She reached into her white linen robe, causing Kain to aim his pistol at her. Gabriel held his hand up. He was curious to see if this old hag dared to assassinate him here among this gathering. Instead, she produced a square piece of linen. Tugging on it for a moment, the cloth held firm against her strength, and everyone watched, curious. Bringing it to her mouth, she bit into the center and tore a small piece of the fabric away.

            “This ship is the same as the cloth my child, grandchild, and people spin for you to wear. Woven together with frail strands that are stronger together,” Clotho explained. She raised the fabric with the small tear in it for all to see. With only a minimal of effort she pulled at it, and from the tear, the cloth ripped apart with ease. “This ship is the cloth, Captain, and what you’re doing will tear us all apart. You are the tear in the fabric.”

            The room was silent, and all looked to the captain to see how he would react.

Gabriel stared at the old woman then burst out laughing. Lord Whelsey and Drumpf joined in, and their laughter created a chorus of mockery. The lords of the Forgers, Keepers, Crats, and Players were slow to join, but their faked laughter joined the symphony. The four lords took their seat in humiliation. Only the Lord of the Fleshweavers remained quiet during all of this.

            Standing up, the man wore a clean white robe emblazoned with the symbol of two serpents wrapped around a winged staff. He looked at Nemesis, who was shaking her head to discourage him, but he ignored it. Laughter began to fade and everyone now looked at the one man standing. An eye patch covered his gnarled, aging face. His features were gaunt and his one eye appeared lifeless. He wore a grim expression.

            “I see taking your one eye has failed to teach you a lesson, Lord Galen of the Fleshweavers. Perhaps you wish me to take your other eye,” Gabriel mocked him.

            “If it pleases you, Captain, but I have stood against death on this ship. Every disease, wound, and danger has been averted by my people. Fleshweavers do not fear death,” Lord Galen declared without any hint of fear. “We are the people who make the hardest decisions and dance with death every day. Only the Officers and Praetorians can make a similar claim.”

            “Are you opposed to the sacrifice I demand?” Gabriel asked.

            “No, my Captain. We the Fleshweaver Clan are always prepared to sacrifice our lives for the crew and Alcatraz, but I do have a question.”

Waving a hand, Gabriel gave him permission to speak.

“We are the doctors, and in an emergency, we are quick to determine who lives and who dies, so we support your need for a culling. We only ask is this the only option?”

            “The Keepers agree and ask the same.” A woman stood up in support.

Gabriel looked at the Lady Freya of the Keeper Clan. Her tattered green robes were stained in animal filth and dirt, and yet her beauty was unblemished despite the dirt on her face. A necklace of vines hung around her neck, bearing the symbol of a vine and knife, and it dangled in between her exposed cleavage.

            “I wondered if you would grace us with your arousing voice, Lady Freya,” Gabriel flirted. “I assure you, my Lady, if there was another way, I would suggest it.”

He turned to look at Lord Galen. “Of course, my lords and ladies, this is the only way. Lady Marimba, Lord Oswald, and Lord Hephaestus, do you have any objections?”

            Sitting in his chair, Lord Oswald wore the dull grey clothes of his clan, and his silver medallion bore the symbol of a man standing in front of other men, representing the Crats. He didn’t want to provoke the captain’s ire any further and shook his head in silence. Lord Hephaestus’ black robes covered up the soot and grime of his clan’s work, and dangling from his neck was the plain iron medallion bearing the Forger Clan symbol of a hammer and anvil, but he, too, chose to remain silent to spare his people. Experience had taught him it was unwise to provoke his father.

Gabriel’s eyes fell on the dark-skinned Lady of the Players, and for a moment, he admired her beauty. Marimba wore robes of stitched multi-coloured fabric. Her long, tangled mass of hair reflected her unpredictable nature, and her origami necklace dangled with the symbol of an open book with the pages representing the artisans of Clan Player.

            “Oh Captain, my Captain, why doth thou doubt the Clan Players? Have our plays not entertained thee?” Marimba's soft, melodic voice resonated in the great hall.

            “Dear Lady, why do you think I’ve only asked for one-tenth? I find your stories, music, and plays to be one of the few bastions of refuge in this life.” Gabriel smiled.

            “My clan and I doth thank thee with our brimming hearts.” Marimba smiled.

            Looking over the assembly of lords, Gabriel felt confident that he had dominated his enemies into submission. Few of the lords and ladies dared to return their captain's forceful gaze.

He motioned for Kain to put his pistol away. Standing up, Gabriel's tall frame was even more imposing from the elevated platform. He stepped to the edge and glared down.

            “I will expect you all to return to your wards and follow through with my orders with expediency.  I hereby call this meeting--”

            Before the captain could finish, the holographic emitter in the center of the room lit up. An image of a hooded figure appeared. It wore a death mask in the likeness of Gabriel’s face. Everyone stared at the image, and whispers of the figure’s identity filled the room.

Gabriel glared at Kain. “Shut this broadcast down now.”

            Kain leaped down from the platform and raced to the console on the wall. He tried accessing the system, but his command codes were denied. He pulled up the emergency override system. The second it appeared on the screen, it vanished. Kain tried to regain control, but the entire console had locked him out.

            “That wasn’t very nice, First officer Kain. I have an important message for the lords, ladies, and the great tyrant, Gabriel Soloman,” The hooded figured declared. “Captain Soloman, you have lied to these lords and ladies and played them for the fools they are.”

            “How dare you!” Gabriel shouted. “I am going to hunt you down and flay you alive with great pleasure, traitor.”

In response, the hooded figure broke into maniacal laughter.

            Projected by the holographic emitters, the Alcatraz’s current location on pre-war star charts was displayed. Highlighted was the travel time to a nearby system, showing it would only take a few days. The image then changed to show that over the entire history of the ship, this had been the original captain’s destination, and that even after events drew the ship away, the course was always corrected back to this destination. Information was projected from Research Outpost Alpha and the small, lifeless remains of the former star system it occupied.

            “Research Outpost Alpha was attached as a primary resource gathering point for a secret project. It was built in the remains of the system where the first star was destroyed. This station was to gather an essential component for a project being completed elsewhere called Project Genesis. There was no life in this system at the end of the last Great War. This station’s resources are probably intact,” the hooded figure informed them. “More importantly, this message that has been hidden from you by the Soloman family with the aid of the Pious Clan.”

            The image of the hooded man disappeared.

Everyone fell silent.

Gabriel looked at Kain, furious. He could see the console was off, preventing anyone from doing anything. Turning back, he saw all of the lords and ladies waiting, the glimmer of hope in their eyes, but he could do nothing.

The image of a female science officer appeared in the holographic video now playing.

             “Come in, Prison ship Alcatraz, this is a priority one transmission from Research Post Alpha,” A female science officer stated. “We have identified the genetic code of one of your prisoners, and it is essential to our project and the war effort. Under the United Earth Defense Act, you are ordered to proceed immediately to this outpost under Clearance Level Omega Nine. You must ensure the survival of the prisoner.” The image cut out.

            “You have been deceived,” the hooded figure voice stated. “You must now choose between executing your people or forcing the tyrannical Captain Soloman to do what’s right for the people. Our future is now in your hands.” The voice faded, and silence returned to the room.

All of the lords turned to look up at Captain Gabriel.

His face was flushed red and his eyes twitched with fury.

            “I demand an immediate cessation to postpone culling until after we investigate that station,” Nemesis stood up and demanded.

One after another, the lords and ladies whose people were to be culled stood in agreement. The fires of hatred burned bright in her father’s eyes. “If you don’t meet my demand, dear Father, I will be forced to invoke the chain of command. The laws allow any of us to challenge your fitness to command.”

            Kain knew this turn of events gave his sister all of the power she needed to start an open rebellion. There was no choice left. He would find the traitor who stole the secrets and exposed them, but right now, he knew his father needed to placate the mob. He had never before seen the Alcatraz this close to open rebellion.

Biting down hard, Gabriel’s jaw popped so loudly, it echoed. He swallowed hard before addressing the assembly.

            “It is agreed. We will not cull any until we arrive at this system. If there are raiders--or worse, no supplies--those deaths will be on your head, Nemesis.” Gabriel stood up and walked down from the platform without looking at any of the lords or ladies. He motioned to Kain to follow them. Together, father and son left the room to the sounds of a rising argument.