“Is there anything else we should know about you, or your colleagues?” she asked.
Owen thought for a moment and then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, forgive me, but there is one thing you haven’t explained.”
He looked genuinely confused.
“We found two talismans on you.” She brought out the two talismans from her purse and carefully unfolded them on Owen’s side table. Looking at Duncan’s talisman again brought back another flood of memories; a smile of understanding in a council meeting, a face full of snow from a snowball she’d thrown.
She had to stem the tide of images to stay focused. This was the most important part of the conversation.
“This talisman belongs to another man,” Owen said, pointing to Duncan’s talisman.
“And do you know this other man?”
He shook his head, but his eyes were engaged. Madison could tell he was as curious about the outcome of the conversation as she was.
After a pause, he asked, “Do you know who he is?”
Unfortunately, she couldn’t probe further without providing some explanation. She would have to hope he was being truthful on his accounts.
She smiled. “I have told you about us, but I haven’t told you about who I am. I owe you that much.”
Madison leaned back in her seat, letting the memories wash over her, letting them fuel her story. “I was born in Seeville, a descendent of some of the people who forged Seeville into what it is today. My uncle was Fred Lechky, son of Kostas Lechky, one of the original architects of the rebirth. I knew firsthand the people that built a thriving community from the squabbling factions that remained after the Detonation. Much of what they rebuilt was based on reinstituting the right principles of government, the principles of the New Founders, like we are trying to do here in Yorktown.
“We were making great progress, but things started to unwind. The mules and the railroad became more powerful, and they put in place leaders that cared little for the principles of government and more for lining their own pockets. Together they dismantled many of the pillars of our democracy. Some of us got frustrated and left, in the hopes we could find new communities to begin again. In fact, three of the Seeville lords left the council—myself, Duncan, and Warrick Kelemen. I thought we might be gone for a few years, but years have turned into decades.”
“You’re… a Seeville lord?” Owen asked, seeing her in a different light.
“I suppose I am.” She nodded and smiled. “Warrick was the driving force behind the idea, but he was a difficult man, and very bitter about Seeville. He wanted to go off on his own. He told us he was going northeast, toward New York. Unfortunately, I don’t know anyone who ever returned from New York, so I doubt he’s still alive.”
“Duncan and I, on the other hand, spent the better part of a year on the road together. I thought we were the perfect pair. But when you’re with someone for that long, when you’re both passionate about what you’re doing, even the slightest misalignment can lead to disagreement. In our case, it led to an unfortunate separation.”
Another vision assailed her. She was fuming with rage, stalking away from him on the train platform in Watertown. He had been so spiteful, casting many barbed remarks, but so had she. She tore into the heart of who he was.
“But that was long ago,” she said.
Owen nodded, respecting her reflective moment.
“In fact, I’ve heard nothing of Duncan for more than a decade. All I know is that he pushed north, seeking a new colony, seeking a people that would take on our principles in earnest. And so it was with great surprise, and not a little bit of hope, that I see you with his talisman. I wondered if maybe you were some emissary of his, some messenger.”
Owen looked down. “I’m sorry. I was looking for him, but not here. You see, a man I knew gave me his talisman, and said I should find him. It was his dying wish, in fact. I talked to people in Seeville about Duncan and learned a little about him. But when I checked the Hall of Records, I found that the brass talisman for Duncan Jones was missing. It looked like it had been removed altogether from the backups as well.”
Madison mused on Owen’s words for a moment. “Removed? How is that possible? Did you look for any of his relatives?”
“Actually, yes. Except for his parents, it looks like all the other Jones talismans were missing.”
She could only think of one reason that this might be. “Does the council of lords still exist? Are there still eight seats?”
“Yes, but I only know of five lords on the council.” Owen answered, confused at the reason for her question.
“Why I ask, Owen, is that when Duncan and I left Seeville we thought we would likely return. That’s why we retained seats on the council of lords. By law, for all three of us, they must let us rejoin the council if we choose to, as long as we—or our next of kin—remain on the Citizen’s Register.”
“So you think… you think they might be trying remove you from the Citizen’s Register.”
“Precisely. The Citizen’s Register is updated every five years by looking at talisman records. But if they can prove none of us are alive anymore, or our offspring, they can replace us on the council and then abolish the law by unanimous decision.”
Owen nodded his head slowly in understanding.
As the conversation progressed, she felt something stirring within her. It began with regret and melancholy, but now it felt like something more. Long-lost emotions were returning, fueled by resurgent memories, and by her regret at the way she’d parted with Duncan. And now with this new injustice at the Hall of Records—with this story of miscreants using an Old World smartphone—she knew that what her ancestors had built was in grave jeopardy. It awakened something in her. She felt more alive than she had in years.
She looked back at Owen again, this time with less compassion, with her back straight and eyes focused. She salted her words with a flavor of determination. “You know, the New Founders understand the importance of progress, and so do I. Jefferson was a man of science, a man who wanted to understand the world. He once wrote that nature intended him for the tranquil pursuits of science, by rendering them his supreme delight.”
Owen’s eyes expanded with interest. “I… didn’t know that.”
“But in the same passage he wrote that the enormities of the times in which he lived forced him to take a part in resisting them, and to commit himself on the boisterous ocean of political passions.”
Owen nodded, processing her words.
“I’m telling you this because I’m sure you would be happy to spend your days tinkering, Owen. You have access to this cache in the tube, and I’m sure you could occupy much of your time exploring it. As for me, I would like nothing better than to stay here and continue to build this community. I have spent half my life doing so, and we are only now starting to see the benefits. But alas, neither will be.”
Owen was listening intently, a frown of concentration occupying his face.
“The enormities of the times have come for us Owen, and when you are ready, I think it’s time we both went home.”
THE STORY OF NOVATION
Alastair Henneson looked into the mirror and pulled at his peppery goatee, trying to straighten it. It looked frazzled no matter how much he massaged it, so instead he focused on his head, combing the brown strands carefully to the side. Eventually he looked respectable enough.