The Mariner

“Arthur Philip,” she began, her voice echoing across the courtyard. “You are guilty of rape and murder. Your crimes are a violation, and it is society’s duty to see that those crimes paid for. You will hang from the neck until you are dead.” She turned her head slightly, so although she wasn’t looking at him, he could see the profile of her face against that of the crowd. Looking at him directly was something she was no longer prepared to do. “You have a few moments to make peace; with us, with God, and with yourself.”

“Thank you Heidi.”

Her voice cracked. “Goodbye Arthur.”

The Mariner stepped toward the jeers and hisses. They rose in volume, but not so much he wouldn’t be heard. His words were all part of the act.

Thank you Heidi, he thought. Thank you for letting me speak. It is more than I deserve.

“It is true,” he began as loudly and clearly as he could. “Of what I am accused, I did. Of what I owe, I must pay. But I’m afraid. So terribly afraid.” He looked down at his feet, fighting a battle inside that he knew he would lose.

Resigned, and with a heavy heart, he looked back up and out to his audience. “I’m sorry. But before I go, there is something you should hear.”

I’m sorry Heidi. I’m sorry McConnell. But I’m afraid to die. I’m so terribly afraid. And this is my only chance.

And so the Mariner spoke. He told them of the Shattering. He told them of the Wasp. He told them what each and every one had forgot.

Elli Heidegger sat upon the wooden bench, enjoying the warm sun upon her face. Not far away, the people of London continued to drive the cogs of the city with their ceaseless endeavours. Streets hummed and roads roared, but this little patch of greenery proved an oasis, a tiny square of life in the great grey desert. She was determined to make the most of it.

Not that she would lower her guard though, she was still in a major city and there were plenty of undesirables about. The clement weather may try to lull her into submission, but she would not falter. Not when there was a little one to care for.

The toddler ran up to her knees, holding three daisies that had been identified and picked for her mother’s approval. The tiny hand was held aloft, small granules of dirt peppered about the fingernails.

“They’re lovely darling! Are they for me?” Heidi asked, bending towards the small girl.

Grace nodded and passed the small flowers to her mother, giggling a tiny response before returning to the grass. Heidi supposed she should get the child more interested in the swings and see-saw, but for now saw no harm in her playing on the green. The patch of land had already been scouted for needles and dog-shit. As far as she could tell, it was safe.

“Elli?” a voice behind made her jump.

Oh no, not him! Not today!

“Elli Heidegger! It is you!”

Oh fuck off Harold!

The man leaned over the back of her bench, a grin broad beneath his bald head. “I knew it was you!” He wiggled a finger in the air as if it were a wand. “I saw you across the street and said to myself, Harold, there’s an ex-employee I haven’t seen in an age!”

Heidi forced a smile. “I’m surprised you remember me.”

“Nonsense,” he quipped, skirting around the bench so to sit beside her. “Beautiful young ladies are unforgettable, whilst boring old farts like me are ten-a-penny, it is you who should be forgetting me!”

“How could I forget you, Harold? I see you every day.” She deliberately took the bait and flattered his ego, despite wanting to vomit inside. “Hardly a day goes by when a leaflet isn’t pushed through my door.”

Harold grinned, knowing full well how prominent his face had become throughout the city. “I know! Who would have thought it, eh? Your boring old boss, the next mayor of London?”

The votes aren’t in yet you conceited prick.

“You should come to the celebration party! Ground-breaking stuff, the people of London giving a huge fuck-you to the establishment! No more of these PPE educated toffs running the place. A truly independent mayor, sticking up for London!” His eyes glazed over with the imagined glory. “The party is going to be fabulous, a real celebration for the people. Of course, it’s strictly only for the elite movers and shakers, but with the right dress on I’m sure you could move and shake like a pro, hmm?”

He didn’t waste any time, did he? Heidi inwardly rolled her eyes at his advances and instead gave a polite, yet conservative smile. “I’m sorry, Harold, but I think I’ll be looking after Grace, babysitters are so hard to find.”

“But the night is still a long way off,” he protested, and then with a hint of malice behind a veneer of ignorance added, “Can’t the father help out?”

You shit.