The Mariner

Harris joined her side, his shotgun drawn ready for trouble, yet it was lowered, the owner in shock.

“Arthur?” he asked, voice trembling. “What have you done?”

But the Mariner was beyond answering. He just stared at the dead girl who’d given so much trust.

The eels knew, he thought as numbness crept through his mind. What did the Oracle call them? Ethusmanier? They knew what was going to happen, and I should have let them stop me.

Another door was opening, and footsteps thudding down the stairs. Heidi turned and dashed to the steps, grabbing McConnell as he rounded, soon enough to drag him to the ground, yet not enough to avoid the sight.

Now it was McConnell’s turn to scream, and he did, the way only a man who realises he was wrong can.

Misjudged me eh? The Mariner’s mind was giddy in its sorrow. Is this what you expected from your Jesus Haych Christ? Is it?

Harris raised his gun, so the barrel no longer pointed to the floor, but straight to the Mariner’s head.

“Shoot him!” Heidi said, holding the wailing McConnell tightly, his tears soaking her nightshirt.

But Harris didn’t shoot, his face was stiff with resolve. “Get up,” he growled. When the Mariner failed to move, he commanded him to rise again, loud enough to match McConnell’s screams.

The Mariner rose, body shaking with the effort and trauma, eyes wet with tears.

“Leave now. Go up onto the moors and wait there. I will send four men to meet you, that’s all you’re getting for this search of yours. Not because I think there’s anything to this bullshit about islands and wasps, but because I want this Pope dead. And once he is dead, I don’t want to ever see you again, got that?”

The Mariner didn’t nod. There was no need to.

“Now go. Because I don’t think I can control myself any longer.”

With a juddering gasp, the Mariner turned to look at Grace’s body. He wanted to apologise, to offer to carry her pain, but Harris was having none of it.

“Don’t look at her, you sick fuck! Get out! Now!”

Harris backed up, keeping the shotgun raised. The Mariner walked into the hallway, heading for the stairs, but McConnell’s voice stopped him first.

“I failed her, Arthur.”

“My name isn’t Arthur. She called me that, and she’s dead.”

Besides, Arthur was the good one. What was the other’s name? Traill? Yes, that sounds more like me.

“I thought there was good inside you.”

“You were wrong. And I told you what I was from the very beginning.”

“You’re a monster.”

“Yes.” It felt so terrible to acknowledge the truth. “I never pretended to be anything but.”

The Mariner walked down the stairs, eager to be out into fresh air, eager to be away from those that hated him, eager to put distance between him and that corpse, the mess that he had caused.

McConnell shouted from above, his voice gaining anger where once there’d only been shock. “I’ll kill you! I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you!”

Let him go Heidi. Let him go and have at me. Let’s put an end to it all now.

But another part of him was glad she was holding the reverend back. It sounded like he meant the threat, and the Mariner didn’t want to die. Not with the Pope so close.

Pain bit flesh and guilt whipped mind, the Mariner stumbled out into the grey morning, once again alone. He looked up, between the tightly packed buildings, towards the ascent. And beyond that, the moors.

It was time to find the Pope.

Carefully Harris selected the four he would send after the Mariner, putting them under the charge of Barnett, a man he could trust.

“Have you heard what happened?”

“Yes sir,” Barnett seemed just as shocked as everyone else. “The sick fucker!”

“You’re going to have to put that aside for now, I want you to catch up with him and help find this Anomenemy.”

Barnett wrinkled up his nose in disgust and Harris waved his hand to halt any protest.

“I know, I know! I don’t like it either. But I think this man might be some sort of Anomenemy himself, and he’s going to lead you to this Pope character, and we can’t miss the opportunity to take out two with one stone.”

“Sir?”

“We’re going to return to the Beagle. Heidi and McConnell are too distracted to continue. Best we stream-line the mission, just you four and he. I’ll send a ship back for you, it’ll be here when you return.”

“How long will it take?”

Harris shrugged. However long it took.

“And you want us to kill the Anomenemy?”

“Yes.”

“And what about the pervert?”

“Once you’ve got the Pope, kill him too.”

Barnett shook his head sadly. “It’s a fucked up world, isn’t it boss?”

“Yes,” Harris agreed. “Yes it is.”

37. HIS HOLINESS