Mordred 5.2

The New Realm

Captain Lovelet almost threw a fit when I dropped the badge onto his table. I told him I needed to go. He spat out his gum and then reached out for the writing pen. He wrote on the piece of stationery and showed it to me.  It was a degrading profanity term.

“I can’t bloody speak it but there were no rules in the book that said I can’t write it down.” Captain Lovelet then broke the pen. “That goes my retraction.”

“Captain, I need to go. I need to find my objective as the Guardian. It was fine we were back in our own world.” I held on tight to the back pack of mine.  It was all I had since I left New Salem. “But here with what the Green guy told me I am not sure anymore. Am I serving to protect my people or yours?”

“Heck we are all one now.” Captain Lovelet was passionate to get me to stay on. “With you gone, who is going to stop those Class E? Charlie? He is a nut case most times. Daley needed recovery break. More to it, we are no closer to the all the cases. Grand Master…”

“Enough! There may be no Grand Master.” I hit back. I was tired of the Grand Master myth. “I need to go now. Send the Storm Trooper Team to do my tasks.”

I took leave of the Captain’s office and was soon met by members of Storm Troopers.

“No offence, Mordred. We were given the orders to escort you to New Salem.” The Commander of the squad held out his hands to block me leaving. He was a short but burly in looks. That was expected from a person who trained daily at over ten hours but it was his body language that gave me the fear. He was unable to stand still and his eyes were twitching while he was talking to me. If he was giving me his rear, I think I will by pass on that offer. I nodded. The New World still think I could be a threat. I was classified as Class E.  I was taken by them blindfolded in the flying contraption and then after a boring four hour flight I was back at New Salem. We flew over the vast tree lined lands and then the deep gorges. It was to confuse the one in detention while the contraption zipped through these landmarks so that we lost track of time and markers.

The place had not changed since I left.

New Salem was located at the remote tip of the continent. It was bordered by the deep gorges and then the high walls which prevented any escape. After a lengthy flight time, we arrived at the Flying Depot. The depot held two runways which the flying contraptions could be of use. It also held a large rectangle building which was the clearing area for the new arrivals. On the structure were numerous sentry posts with heavier machine guns to protect the Depot. There was a saying if the sentries can’t stop the renegades, then they will detonate the place to prevent it being overtaken. On the boundaries of the Depot are more sentries with their weapons, including automated machine guns posts. It was to prevent any outbreak into the Depot. When I reached there, the place had expanded with more guns and sentries with additional high walls on the boundary. In New Salem this was their domain. I went through the needed checks and was certified clear. I took my first step into my previous home land. Out there beyond those Depot walls were mine to reclaim. It felt great to breathe in the fresh uncontaminated air there.

When I was to leave the Depot, I was met by the welcoming guards that control the Flight Depot at the Boundary Gate.

“Sergeant Peterson. I am glad to see you are doing well.” Sergeant Peterson was a Master of Arms with over twenty years of service. With his crewcut and square chest from the daily workout, he looked like a Minotaur in uniform. He was accompanied by two others holding the machine guns. The Sergeant ignored my extended hand with a rough push at my right shoulder. He was holding the Colt Anaconda in his right hand.

“The use of any art crafts is a violation of the codes. So is any form of weapons.” The Sergeant read my citation of violation. I deny it all.

“I have no intention to use my crafts here. Nor have I any weapons. I was cleared by your guys inside just now.” I denied it all. “You should haul them up for violations. They may be in negligence.”

Sergeant Peterson was not impressed with me.

“Mordred, we are not doing well. Ever since your disappearance, New Salem had changed from the peaceful village to a detention centre. We had some incursion by your renegades but they were repelled with costs to my men. The emotion is on the high side, and curfew after dark had been imposed. The new rules here are you will stay in the village or be prepared to be apprehended with extreme measures. Or be terminated.”

That was my welcome speech but soon I was making my way towards the village. I was to walk along the designated path to the inner lands. Soon I was at the village. It used to house over a hundred of us, to welcome those who were coming back or leaving New Salem. On that day, I saw the empty reception and the quiet streets. Most of the doors and windows of the adjoining housing were closed and the atmosphere tensed. During my walk to the tavern, I was greeted with cold stares by the few I met. I recalled some familiar faces but none will return my greetings. I saw then first welcome notice into the village. It said, ‘be off or taken off’ plastered over the ‘Welcome’ sign. I felt regret then for leaving New Salem then.

Soon I made my way to only open establishment; a simple designed twin levelled structure converted into a tavern. It was still open and I knew that place. Its’ drinking section was at the lower level, and the sleeping quarters on the upper level. There was the sublevel where the wines were stored. The tavern was named the ‘First Drink’.