6: Breakfast with the Mages

The shrill vidcom alarm dragged them awake. Ishbel, in a vast tent of shimmering turquoise, demanded their presence immediately.

Cold showers took thirty seconds, then clasping each other tightly they stepped onto an enseemat and a nanosecond later were plunging their feet into the deep-pile of a gruesome red carpet in the huge and hideously decorated apartment belonging to the Chief Mage.

Astonished silence greeted them. They looked around and grinned.

‘You didn’t believe we could pass through tons of fused granite, did you?’ Peteru asked quietly.

‘Don’t get above yourself!’ Ishbel snapped. ‘All you’ve done is your job. And everything else you’ve promised had better be true or you’ll be dead meat!’ The Chief Mage obviously wasn’t a morning person.

‘Yes, you’re clever kids,’ Justinian added with a disparaging sneer, ‘thanks to my breeding strategy and Xanthippe’s education syllabus. I suggest you show a little humility and don’t forget to whom you owe your present position.’

Peteru and Uretep hung their heads, suddenly nervous at this bizarre turn of events. ‘Yes, your worships, thank you,’ they said with what they hoped was sufficient humility. ‘We will remember your advice.’

‘See that you do!’ Ishbel sank back into her armchair as if exhausted.

‘What surprises me,’ a miserable, exhausted looking fellow said waspishly, ‘is that each time you appear you both look so irritatingly fresh, fit and healthy—your skins glow! And those erections!’

‘Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Job?’ jeered Xanthippe. ‘I seem to recall your little stick didn’t last very long yesterday.’

Embarrassed and worried by the blatant display of animosity, Peteru quickly interrupted. ‘Skins seem healthier, Job, because every time you’re transported all the old dead skin cells are left behind. And don’t forget that hairlessness makes our genital seem larger.’

‘You’re just pathetic narcissists!’ sneered the pot-bellied, balding young man called Melvyn. ‘Strikes me as very suspect that you ogled us in action yesterday, but didn’t join in. Think you’re too good to have a bit of fun with us?’

Murmurs of angry agreement rumbled around the room.

‘Of course not!’ Uretep protested. ‘The opposite! We thought our positions were far too inferior to even contemplate socialising with you.’

‘The fact remains,’ Fabien snarled, ‘that you’ve seen us at play and doubtless made judgements about us, but we’ve not had a chance to judge your performance.’

‘I assure you, sir, we were both impressed and even jealous of the uninhibited way you all embraced the effects of transportation. As Ishbel said, you were all perfectly capable of overriding the urges, but you chose not to, and that proved your superiority to us. We are not so psychologically balanced and confident as you Mages. We hope to learn from you.’

‘Prove it!’ snapped Alice, the outwardly shy woman who’d bragged about sleeping with the Emperor’s bodyguards. ‘Fuck each other now!’

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck…’ everyone chanted as if repeating a mantra as they shifted in their seats to get a better view.

‘Certainly, your worships,’ Uretep said with a deep bow. He turned to Peteru and began softly kissing him on the lips while caressing his nipples.

Hisses of disapproval from their audience.

‘They want it rough like they do it,’ Peteru whispered urgently, ‘Prepare to suffer—or at least act as if you are.’ With that he grabbed Uretep’s by the throat and hurled him to the ground. After what appeared to be a strenuous struggle, Uretep had Peteru on his knees, right arm up behind his back while he fucked him mercilessly. Peteru broke free and within seconds was forcing his erection into Uretep’s mouth. They ended up with Uretep on his back while Peteru, impaled on his manhood, ejaculated over his lover’s chest.

‘OK,’ Ishbel said grumpily, ‘A bit wimpish, but at least you’re not just voyeurs.’

A Vassal appeared and wiped Uretep clean with a towel before disappearing as silently.

‘If you want to cover yourselves, Vassals can bring robes.’

‘No thanks, Ishbel, it’s warm in here and we’re more comfortable like this—it’s how we always work; we’ve found that physical freedom also frees the brain.’

‘Well, it’s time for breakfast. Hungry?’

‘Very.’

‘Then follow us.’

Closely followed by her grumbling entourage, Ishbel waddled through an archway and along a short hallway before turning sharp right through a narrow doorway set in metre-thick stone walls. The two young men trailed nervously after them at a respectful distance, only to become transfixed by astonishment and fear as they crossed the threshold—they were outside! In the open air! Curiosity replaced nervousness as they raised their eyes to a pale blue sky dotted with pinkish clouds. A light warm breeze caressed their skin and an instinctive self-protective urge made them back up against the wall from where they gazed in astonished curiosity at the vastness—the emptiness—-the openness! It had to be fake! But intuitively they knew it wasn't. Filling their lungs with the cleanest, freshest air they’d ever breathed, they eventually relaxed enough to look around.

The Mages were watching them with interest, as if they were laboratory specimens.

Peteru’s illicit investigations had hinted at the existence of such a vast emptiness, but the reality was not to be imagined by minds trapped since birth in a giant granite cylinder filled with recycled air. So much light! So much space! So much odourless, fresh, clean air that seemed to fill their bodies with vigour.

‘The sun’s coming into view as the planet turns,’ Ishbel announced as if she had personally organised the event. ‘Don’t be alarmed; there’s enough atmosphere between us to diffuse harmful rays. It’s safe to look at it now, but in a couple of minutes it’ll be a different story. Then it’ll make you blind.’

Nervously, they grasped the railing at the edge of the balcony and gazed in awe at the brilliant orange disc effortlessly rising over the horizon, unable to take their eyes away as it turned yellow, then white, causing the previously monochrome landscape to reveal a multitude of green textures separated from the observers by a flat brown plain. Gaining courage they peered over the edge expecting a hundred-metre drop. Instead, reddish soil dotted with low shrubs only a couple of metres below their feet, spread into the distance. They turned and gasped. Their entire field of vision was blocked by the vast, shallow, pale, dusty dome that capped the city. Unable to speak they turned again to the railing and gazed blindly around until their eyes learned to focus on distant objects and they realised that the dense, dark-green wall on the other side of the brown plain was made of plants. But what plants! Accustomed only to herbs and shrubs in small pots, they had never imagined such giants.

‘There’s plenty of time to gawk!’ shouted Ishbel impatiently. ‘Come to the table, breakfast's served.’

Reluctantly, they joined the others who were already seated under a large awning at a table laden with food. Food that although looking exactly like their normal fare, tasted entirely different. So delicious was it they ate more than usual until, appetite assuaged, Peteru could no longer contain his curiosity. ‘What food is this? Why is the ground so close? How…?’

‘The food is natural,’ Augur snapped, irritated at the interruption to his gobbling. ‘The vegetables are grown by Vassals on balconies like this, and the meat is from animals we breed for the purpose.’ He returned to shovelling his food.

‘Everything’s delicious!’ Peteru said between mouthfuls.

‘The reason the land is only two metres below us,’ Ishbel explained, spraying half-chewed food at her listeners who didn’t dare duck, ‘is that Oasis is an underground city. As Chief engineer I decided it was easier and safer to excavate down, than to construct above. Only the Mages apartments are above ground because we can appreciate the freedom, having been raised in it.’

‘Enough questions!’ shouted Melvyn. ‘You’ll give me indigestion! For goodness sake let us eat in peace!’

Having eaten more than enough the young men were forced to sit and watch the stomach-churning spectacle for another ten minutes; the perfection of their first alfresco morning marred by the slurping and slobbering of thirteen gluttonous Mages. When everyone had finally stuffed themselves to bursting, Vassals appeared, removed the chairs, table and its contents, and replaced them with fifteen armchairs—thirteen in a half circle with two facing them.

While waiting, Uretep and Peteru walked back to the railing and gazed in stupefaction. ‘The fact that we’re standing here means ambient radiation has dropped to safe levels, so rainwater, air and soil are no longer toxic and solar radiation is no longer lethal.’ He said softly before turning to his hosts and stating, ‘That means everyone can go outside!’

‘Everyone?’

‘Yes.’

‘You want Aristocrats, Vassals and Freemen to run away?’ Fabien sneered, moving to the railing and draping his arm around Uretep’s shoulders, drenching him in the stench of sour sweat. Justinian and Elbert also joined them at the rail, looking at the view as if they’d never seen it before.

‘Why would they?’ Peteru asked innocently.

‘Fuck you’re stupid.’ Fabien shrugged and wandered back to the armchairs.

Uretep turned to Elbert. ‘Fabien said that everyone would run away if they knew it was safe to go outside; why would they do that?’

‘Theoretically,’ Elbert sighed, ‘Xanthippe’s educational brainwashing prevents all desire for freedom, but no matter what we do, humans always retain a cunning streak. They’re devious bastards—you never know what they’re thinking. Better to be sure than sorry is our motto, so as far as the rest of the population’s concerned, solar radiation is still lethal.’

‘But you’ll tell the Aristocracy it’s safe?’

‘Why?’ snarled a heavily made up woman through lipstick-smudged teeth. ‘Will it make them happy? Will they still be content to let us Mages run things? Of course they won’t!’ she snorted, answering her own question. ‘They’ll set out to claim land, grow food as we do, take their Vassals and Freemen with them, breed, build cities and armies and attack us and each other until the world is awash in blood as it was for millennia before Oasis! Is that what you want?’

‘No, of course not,’ Peteru said hastily. ‘But surely…’

‘She’s absolutely right, Peteru,’ Uretep interrupted. This must remain a secret if we are to preserve our way of life and prevent the horrors this wise woman speaks of.’ He turned to her. ‘Forgive our ignorance and inexperience. We have a great deal to learn.’

‘You have indeed, so sit down!’ Ishbel bellowed from under the canopy, indicating the chairs facing the rest of the Mages who were returning to sprawl over their armchairs.

Three young women in hooded white shifts appeared and served everyone drinks. As Peteru and Uretep took the crystal goblets they smiled and thanked them.

‘They’re Vassals!’ Ishbel shouted angrily. ‘Invisible! We don’t acknowledge their existence. Remember that when you’re honorary Mages!’

‘But they can see and hear everything,’ Uretep said, confused.

‘They can see so they don’t fall over. But their eardrums and tongues have been removed so they can’t tell tales. They never leave this apartment and when I’m sick of them they take a ride down the exit chute. Once this ceremony is over you’re eligible for a dozen of them—any sex you like, to do with exactly as you please, so learn to treat them properly.’