DarkLight

Part 5: A Time To Act

The city was quiet, either people were still asleep or they were already at the ceremony. Speeding along the bridge towards the Corporation Central Tower, Soran’s mind was racing as fast as his transport. Why had she condemned Natasha? Was there any other reason than suspicion of Skry dealings? He didn’t care, he needed answers and he would get them. Little did Rammachandra know that two weeks ago when she bestowed him with the DarkLight sword, it was that same sword that would pierce her skin and send her back to the darkness from whence she came.

“She’ll pay” he thought. “She’ll pay for all of this”.

As Soran rounded the corner of the slip road leading to the main access road, the gargantuan building came into view. Five hundred and fifty stories high, this building was the central hub of the corporation. All electronics, communications, scientific research and citizen files were held in this building. The central tower rose high into the hair like a spear, flanked by two squatter cylindrical towers at each side of it. All three towers of the Heart Of Utopia were made of glass, steel and concrete. At night they were illuminated by great floodlights trained up at them from below, gleaming with might and majesty to remind all citizens of Utopia City that The Corporation was ever present, and ever watching. These three pristine towers were all joined at the base by a sprawling three story reception and vehicle storage block which resembled a large five pointed star from above. This block itself spanned  a vast area of 3.1 square kilometres. At the summit of the central spire was a large square glass window protruding from the flush tower. She stood in this window, watching over her domain. The tower continued to rise reaching its peak at the end of the tallest antenna, two thousand, seven hundred and seventy metres above sea level.

Soran had come to the massive titanium gates of the boundary wall which loomed high above him. The wall that surrounded the Heart Of Utopia itself was two stories tall and was painted a uniform grey. The Corporation’s slogan shown in the bent iron bars of the polished gate:

‘Peace For All’. 

Peace, yes. But at what cost?

Massive crowds were either side of Soran, screaming his name as he sped past towards the tower’s base. They wouldn’t be civilians - civilians weren’t allowed this close to the tower. These were Corporation workers and members of the military. He was the most famous soldier in the Corporation’s ranks and all those affiliated to The Corporation were fanatical about him. They all lived for The Corporation, no one in the populace had a single bad thing to say about it, and that’s why they loved him - he was Rammachandra’s poster boy even before his last assignment. ‘Rin Harris, keeper of the Darklight and defender of Utopia’. Soran always though they should add ‘Husband to a murdered wife’ to his position.

He had never blindly followed The Corporation, but it was easier to play the company line. And now, even though they had only just taken his wife from him, Soran was inside. He had to smile a little to himself, smile at his patience.

He dismounted his transport and a waiting Ensign hopped on, taking it to one of the numerous garages surrounding the tower. The glass doors to the main reception opened up and a procession of well dressed businessmen and women, military officials and their aids walked towards him. They were lead by a man clad in jet black robes and wearing heavy silver chains around his neck. His side-swept medium length blonde hair was spiked upwards and sideways and his fringe was covering one eye. It reminded Soran of some kind of disfigured porcupine.

“Captain Harris, it is an honour!” The man said in a slightly higher voice than Soran remembered. He was holding his hands out towards Soran, as if he was drinking him in with thirsty eyes.

“Allow me to introduce myself, I am…”

“Lord Draz.” Soran interrupted.  “Youngest of the Seven Lords of Utopia and personal assistant to the High Matriarch. I know all about you”. For a split second, the young Lord looked like he might rip Soran’s head off, but his facial expression changed back to the arrogant grin just as quickly.

“I see you know all about me! Well let me just say it is an honour to meet you”. The young Lord half-bowed half-curtseyed to Soran.

“Your services to the Corporation in operation Blackstar assured our victory”

“Just another kill” Soran replied simply, still standing a few paces away from Draz and the group of people. The suited men and women said nothing, just beamed at Soran in a daze-like fashion. The military leaders remained stoic and said nothing, hardly even moving. Draz was clearly in a position of high authority.

“I beg to differ!” Draz almost shouted. “Killing Lord Mallix is a great testimony to your prestigious sword skills. He was, after all, a powerful Sorcerer of the Black arts!” Draz’s upper-class demeanour and seemingly fake praise were getting a bit too much for Soran to tolerate.

“Thank you for your kind words” He forced himself to say. He could feel himself subconsciously mocking Draz’s accent without even realising it.

“Shall we continue?”

“But of course” Lord Draz replied, flashing Soran another split-second look of warning. He led Soran into the spacious reception area. A massive hall with white marbled floor and mirrored walls all around. There was literally nothing in the cavernous space other than a large circular desk made of beechwood, chrome and glass that was usually manned by a young attractive blonde woman, but today the desk was empty. Soran mused that she was probably outside screaming Soran’s name and drooling over Draz. Behind this desk were four polished chrome elevators. Lord Draz pressed the button, opening the door and Soran stepped inside, turning to see that Draz and the group of people had not crossed into the large elevator.

“You’re not coming too?” Soran asked Lord Draz.

“Oh no” Draz said with a large toothy grin. “The High Matriarch wishes to see you alone. I’ll see you very soon, Mr Harris.” A shadow seemed to pass over Draz’s face as the doors closed and his eyes bored into Soran’s as his face contorted into a frown.

Then the lift began to move upwards. It was almost time.