Terra Nova Page 5

  ‘He was placed on Earth by my forefathers,’ continued Noah, ‘in an effort to halt the descent into anarchy, war and chaos, but our plans were foiled, ruined when he was put to death. There followed many others in his wake over the following centuries, all tried unsuccessfully to change the disastrous course that your version of Earth was taking. Would you like me to name some of them?’

  Richard gave a dismissive shrug of the shoulders.

  ‘No, forget it Noah. Your story is getting more and more bizarre and my belief is diminishing in direct proportion to the height of your fantasies. You’ll be telling me next that Mahatma Gandhi was a Terra Novan!’

  Another engineered smile from Noah split his face. ‘You never cease to amaze me Richard! Yes, he was one of the many sent from Terra Nova and, to his utmost credit, he achieved a huge measure of success for the people of the Indian sub-continent but he, alas, was assassinated before he was able to complete the task set him. The outcome of all this? You Richard - yes you, ostensibly a humble Earthling, have been selected to assume the task at which other Terra Novans failed.’

  Richard glowered.

  ‘Ostensibly?’ he said.’ what’s ostensibly supposed to mean?’

  Noah didn’t answer. But Richard’s head was swimming, nothing made sense and yet everything he was told, everything he saw, appeared to hold the answers to questions that have been plaguing him for years, ever since the moment when he became passionately interested in space. He looked Noah squarely in the eyes.

  ‘You mentioned Jesus Christ. Did he ever return to your Earth as promised in the Bible? He was destined to return and save the Earth from the calamities that destroyed your civilization. He is also expected to return with the same mission to our version of Earth. Was the prophecy fulfilled?’

  Noah spread his lips in another semblance of a smile.

  ‘Patience Richard, all will be revealed when the time is right.’

  Chapter Ten

  Following the death of Nehemiah Julio Nerva there were no members of the much respected Nerva dynasty left to succeed him as Great Leader. The Nerva’s had been continuously in power throughout Terra Nova for most of the past millennium, a period when the planet had made huge strides in recreating Terra Nova in the image of the original version of Earth. Upon Nehemiah’s retirement and subsequent death, due to old age and ill health, there was an ambitious contender named Ezra Caelius Aquila patiently waiting in the wings ready to assume the mantle of Great Leader. Terra Novan law was specific with respect to the requirements of those with pretensions to become Great Leader. He (the male line only was permitted) must be a direct descendant of Leviticus Amadeus Romanus, one of the original settlers and the first in a line of Great Leaders. Ezra’s family history was well documented and he was therefore able to prove conclusively to the then all-powerful Terra Novan Senate that his undisputed descent from the revered Leviticus gave him the constitutional right to be nominated as a candidate for the election of Great leader. His objective was achieved by assiduously currying the favour of the majority of the 25-man Senate with lavish promises of future favours for those who were prepared to support his candidacy. He also inveigled himself into the good books of the existing 19-man Council of Ministers so that when the electorate found in his favour he would be able to execute its constitutional authority without any exasperating objections. After months of wrangling, bribing, coercion, feigned obsequiousness to those he deemed of future value, and a manifesto that promised not only to continue the good works of the Nerva dynasty but also to introduce new laws designed to benefit all levels of Terra Novan society, Ezra was eventually nominated and his desire to become Great Leader grew apace as his ambitions were placed in the hands of Terra Nova’s electorate.

  His elevation to Great Leader was almost unanimous. Consequently the 23 senators who had voted for his original candidature were lionised; the two who abstained were “forgiven” as Ezra so quaintly put it and were later elevated to exalted non-governmental positions, with little or no authority, to be “dealt with” at an appropriate point of time in the future.

  The first seven to eight years as Great Leader were marked by a never-ending stream of promised new laws; for example, laws that were designed to banish poverty from the planet. He was lauded to the heavens by those who benefited from resulting state financial support and improved pensions. Education of the young took huge leaps forward as laws were introduced which saw money strewn around in hitherto unimagined quantities for the building of new schools, for the provision of new teachers (all approved by Ezra or by his cloying cohorts) and for the teaching of strict deference to Ezra, the Great Leader. The people, by and large, were convinced in those early years of Ezra’s rule that a new, improved Utopia was being forged, one which would not only surpass the original created by the succession of Great Leaders from the Nerva family, but would also stamp out minor grievances caused by the previous preferential treatment of patricians (the aristocratic, noble class) to the detriment of the plebeians (those from the lower classes of society). The first two four-yearly planet-wide elections saw Ezra re-elected with increasing numbers of the populace opting to vote for a man who actually carried out manifesto promises. Opposition to his rule was almost eliminated and, after being elected for a third term after eight years in power, he felt his stranglehold was at such a level that he could begin the “decimation” of his enemies. The Senate and the Council of Ministers were now under his complete control. Whatever he deemed necessary to achieve his ultimate objective, that being absolute, unopposed autocratic rule, was passed without demur by the two, cowed, legislative assemblies.

  Year nine of his rule saw the introduction of Immaculation, summary death to those who opposed his rule. His warped sense of justice led him to recreate the fourth Sunday in every month as Immaculation Day, when the Coliseum was opened to all who cared to attend and witness not only the death of those who dared defy Ezra but also the death of a democratic republic that had been carefully, impeccably, nurtured over the millennia. The following three years saw the imposition of severe restrictions upon those citizens invested with the ability to read and transmit thoughts. Only those whom Ezra deemed suitable were afforded this rather dubious attribute. Chariot racing, once the spectator sport of the masses, was outlawed, resulting in outrage and mass demonstrations which were put down with unfettered, gratuitous force. The plebeians were slowly but surely squeezed into ghettos where starvation, disease and deprivation became rife. Consequently the support he had so assiduously created in the early years of his reign waned and opposition to his rule slowly but irrepressibly began to surface. Ezra hit back with venom against the courageous individuals who dared to challenge his authority. Jails became crammed with dissidents who refused to be silenced until Immaculation ended their protests. Those found to be actively engaged in the creation of anti-Ezra political factions were sentenced to Proscription, a sentence which implied the elimination, en masse, of those who were diametrically and politically opposed to the doctrines of the Great Leader. Nevertheless a movement known as Licentia ex Persecution was steadily gaining strength, membership and momentum. To Ezra’s rage and disappointment Amos Caelius Aquila, Ezra’s twin brother, was one of its leading protagonists. He was co-founder of a movement that was committed to putting an end to Ezra’s despotic rule and, thereafter, returning Terra Nova to the halcyon days of the first and subsequent republics.

  Ezra became more and more isolated. Surrounded only by those sycophants who benefited from his lavish gifts and favours, he began to display a bizarre mix of contradictions; artistic, cruel, feeble, physical, unpredictable, profligate, bisexual and increasingly deranged. So bizarre was his behaviour that his detractors drew comparisons with Nero Claudius Drusus Germanicus, the Roman Emperor who, reputedly, fiddled while Rome burned.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was akin to stepping back two thousand years. The city of Leviticus truly was an
exact replica of Rome, down to the smallest cobblestone and up to the largest edifice. A winding river flowing through the city added yet more realism to the scenery. To his credit Richard had once read all 71 chapters of Edward Gibbon’s masterpiece The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire and consequently, as he strolled through the city’s tortuous streets he felt a strange familiarity as if he had returned to a place where pleasant memories were evoked at every turn, corner and sight. He began to wish that he had donned the toga, gown and sandals that Noah had offered before starting out. Every person he saw, and there were hundreds upon hundreds representing a fascinating mélange of Leviticaen society, stared long and hard as he passed by dressed in beige chinos and faded blue denim shirt. He felt a sense of belonging and yet, because of his appearance, a conflicting sense of detachment. A chariot, drawn by two majestic black horses, their manes wildly flowing in the wind, passed by grinding and bumping over the uneven road surface. Its occupant, another Charlton Heston look-alike, grinned broadly at Richard’s strange apparel while giving a friendly wave to Noah who fluttered a desultory, blasé hand in return.

  ‘That person Richard is Marcus Annius Verus,’ said Noah as the chariot disappeared from sight around the next corner. ‘He’s a City Prefect and also Minister for State Security in Ezra’s government. No doubt he’s on his way to a meeting of the Council of Ministers. He’s such an arrogant person - he thinks he’s more important than he actually is!’

  Richard’s eyes widened at Noah’s insensitive criticism of someone who was obviously from an exalted rank in Leviticaen society.

  ‘I say Noah, naughty, naughty! Do I detect a hint of jealousy? Is his chariot bigger than yours? You told me several times there are no debilitating emotions left on Terra Nova, so what was that I just heard you giving one of your fellow countrymen?’

  Noah cast a blistering look in Richard’s direction.

  ‘Richard, you are so typical of the downward ethical course that humanity has taken once again; always ready with reproach and ridicule at the slightest opportunity. Marcus Annius Verus happens to be a dear friend but, at the same time, and I’ve often told him so to his face, he adopts airs and graces totally foreign to his position. He leads everyone to believe that he is a direct descendent of the Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius and thinks, because of this unproven claim, that he should be accorded due deference. Well, that’s not going to happen here on Terra Nova. We are all equals and those who seek to rise above their station will find themselves put into their correct place, quickly and irrevocably.’

  Richard and Noah were now being followed and, on many occasions, surrounded by curious crowds of young, excited Terra Novans. Some reached forward with probing fingers to feel Richard’s clothing while others tried to touch his face, others merely trundled alongside, pointing and staring in wonderment at the odd sight he presented walking alongside the magnificently attired Noah.

  ‘So where are we off to Noah?’ asked Richard after deciding not to rise to Noah’s angry response. ‘You said I was going to see something called the Magi. When is that going to happen?’

  ‘Not Magi Richard, Magus. You will be meeting with them later during your stay but now, for your enjoyment and interest, we are going to the Coliseum where a most enthralling spectacle is to take place. You are aware, I am sure, of the terrible acts that took place at the Coliseum in the days of the Roman emperors?’

  Noah awaited Richard’s nodded affirmation. ‘Well, in our Coliseum we do something different - no, don’t ask me what it is, just follow me and you can see for yourself.’

  ***

  The crowds pressing around the many entrances to the Coliseum were noisy, over-excited. Some individuals were on the brink of becoming completely out of control. Guards, dressed in the style of centurions, were positioned at the huge oak entrance doors. They were brandishing large wooden batons criss-crossed with metal studs ominously painted a dark, blood red. Anyone who looked about to cause trouble was immediately subjected to a vicious beating that resulted in cracked and bloodied heads, dislocated shoulders and bruised legs. The guard’s captain was elegantly mounted on a magnificent dark-brown horse that reared repetitively onto its back legs in violent protest at the noisy confrontations. In spite of the brutality the crowd continued to shout abuse not only at each other but also at the guards whose aggressive behavior shocked Richard to the core.

  ‘What is this all about?’ he demanded of Noah. ‘It’s worse than those mad football hooligans back on Earth. If you think I’m getting close to that lot, you can forget it.’

  Noah placed a hand on Richard’s shoulder and patted gently several times.

  ‘Don’t worry, we don’t have to get close to this rabble my dear friend,’ he said. ‘We will simply circle the stadium to the rear where there is an entrance for those of special importance. Follow me...’

  ‘Do you mean VIP’s?’ called Richard to Noah’s departing figure.

  Pushing through the crowds to the rear of the stadium posed problem upon problem, mainly because of the undisguised surprise caused by Richard’s apparel - he stood out as would a weed in the grass of the centre court at Wimbledon. It seemed so crazy, here he was dressed in casual clothes that would have been commonplace in any country on Earth and yet he was one among thousands who were dressed as they did in Rome over two thousand years ago. He had no need to pinch himself to determine if it was all a dream for much pinching was being constantly done to him by curious onlookers as he passed by with Noah.

  The VIP entrance was ringed by menacing-looking praetorian guards who were positioned behind a fence fashioned from ugly cast iron, only those with the appropriate passes were allowed anywhere near the fence. Those who attempted to do so were treated more roughly than the poor souls Richard had seen at the public entrances.

  Suddenly, with a fanfare of trumpets attracting much rubber-necking from the assembled crowd, four large, ornate gold chariots hove noisily into view preceded by a phalanx of mounted soldiers whose approach split the crowd into two deferential, silent sections.

  Richard turned to Noah: ‘Who is it?’ he asked. ‘Must be somebody important to silence this noisy lot!’

  Noah’s face wrinkled into the now familiar manufactured smile. ‘It is but our dear leader Ezra Caelius Aquila who has honoured us with presence. Make sure you bow low as he passes Richard. You already stand out like a hyena among a herd of antelopes so, please, bow low to demonstrate your subservience to him!’

  A huge, derogatory, belly laugh from Richard echoed above the eerie silence brought about by the arrival of Ezra and his entourage. Every eye swivelled in the direction of the perpetrator of a sound that had long been extinguished from the personalities of the populace of Terra Nova. Richard appeared unconcerned. He continued to laugh heartily even as Ezra’s eyes bore into him like shafts of sheet lightning. A group of soldiers rushed forward and grappled Richard to the ground. They began threatening him with the same batons that were used on those unfortunate miscreants he had seen being beaten and chastened some minutes earlier.

  ‘No, no, leave him be,’ cried Noah. ’He is in my charge and is my responsibility.’

  He turned to face Ezra who remained impassively fixed, statue-like, upon the now stationary chariot. Noah bowed low, his head almost reaching the level of his waist.

  ‘Forgive me Great Leader,’ he gasped, his eyes now glancing slightly upwards. ‘This man is the Earthling about whom you were informed had safely arrived on Terra Nova. Forgive his lack of servitude for he is still prompted by the way he acts on Earth where obsequiousness and respect for one’s betters is regarded as passé. I know his behaviour in inexcusable but I beg you, Great Leader, to take into account the extenuating circumstances.’

  Noah genuflected once more, although this time he also raised his hands palm to palm to brush his lips as if in silent prayer. Ezra appeared unmoved but, nevertheless, silent
ly indicated his acquiescence by a dismissive wave of his hand towards the guards who were now standing rigidly to attention. They reached down and hoisted Richard from the ground who began brushing showers of dust from his shirt, trousers and shoes. He had ceased laughing and was clearly angry at his rough treatment.

  ‘So, what’s next Noah - are they going to throw me to the lions?’

  Richard’s face was torn with anger, his cheeks were flushed red while his eyes stared unflinching first at Ezra, then at Noah and finally at the motionless guards. The crowd standing around was stunned into silence at witnessing a scene that was entirely alien to them. They could not comprehend how anybody, anywhere, could have the courage (or indeed the foolishness) to stare so menacingly at Ezra as was this strangely garbed man.

  The first to react was a large woman standing in the midst of the gathering crowd. She held an arm aloft, fist clenched as she strove to move towards the front. Her way barred, she stopped pushing and, instead, cupped two fleshy hands around her mouth.

  ‘He said it - throw him to the lions,’ she yelled. ‘He’s nothing but a worthless troublemaker... ’

  Her strident voice became lost in a sudden, overwhelming clamour as the entire crowd joined in the hostility. Noah, sensing an uncontrollable loss of order, grabbed Richard by the scruff of the neck and bundled him into the area directly behind the cast iron fence. Ezra and his party stood their ground, acutely aware that none of the anger was directed against them but was aimed solely at the man who had dared to ridicule, face to face, the man known as Great Leader.

  Ezra, his pale face devoid of emotion, uttered three words. ‘Take him below.’

  Chapter Twelve