Veritas Liberabit Vos: Parts One and Two

R M M WALKER

VERITAS LIBERABIT VOS

Parts One and Two

Copyright 2013 R M M WALKER

Smashwords Edition

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks to The Hicks family,

Manoah Smiley, Fred Buller, Guy Hammersley,

Stephen Sacks,Jonathan Dentice, GoSkyDive in Salisbury,

and the Respawned few.

Cover art by Lucy Dentice

PART ONE

Prologue

The skyscraper’s rooftop elevator doors slid open gracefully revealing the night’s skyline and across the brightly lit cityscape. Their opening shatters the still calm as music fills the garden beyond and the bright lights from the elevator illuminates timber decking extending out in a semicircle towards an open lawn A pathway leads up to an archway formed by the branches in the centre of a tall hedgerow.

Believe, believe in me; the words from a Smashing Pumpkins song reverberate around the rooftop and dissipate. Two figures step out from the sides of the elevator into the doorway, and cast tall shadows which waiver as they stumble their way through. One is supported by the other and together they move forward.

A man popped his head round the archway of the hedge. Oh there you are! The pair look over to him and one speaks out; My eyes must be deceiving me pal, or this is some kinda prank! What the hell are you doing up here? The man steps out gingerly from the grasp of the other figure and shuffles forward, still clutching a bottle of champagne. That Percy? Well, you sure ain’t no Ed Norton but you look familiar. Oh I get it! You’re from the party; the studio must have booked you? He seemed somewhat confused and struggled to take in what lay before him.

I guess I was booked... but not by any studio. No, actually yes, yes you could be right. After all, the world is but a stage! He takes a bow and chuckles to himself. You should know that by now anyway. Do please enter my wonderful maze. He raised his hand and beckoned them over.

Yeah right. In character I see. He guffaws and heads in closer, before turning back towards the solitary figure of his companion from the elevator. Hey, you coming? I didn’t catch your name yet?

Perry Oldshaw and now I see you in the light; I know exactly who you are.

No shit, a lot of people do bud! Lance Striolli boasted. And you are?

We haven’t really met before. It's not important right now. I need to speak to that man anyway, let's go.

A refreshing breeze somewhat revitalises them as they enter and loud thumps of bass heavy music pumps through from the floor below. As they went through the entrance, they caught a fleeting glimpse of Percy. He flourished his long raven hair in the air as he lifted his leg up, extended it and then swung it to the side propelling him into a 270 degree spin as if auditioning for a government grant from the 'Ministry of Silly Walks'; he then moved off, leaning back before whipping his head out of sight round the corner. Perry and Lance look at each other, their flabbergasted expressions mirrored as they reflect in the questionable magnificence of the moment before giving chase.

Rounding the corner they saw the glass panes of a large skylight jutting its way through the garden, its rude structure enveloped and blended into the tranquillity of the surroundings by the flora. The dull thud from the music below permeated through like waves crashing into the side of a boat, subduing the intricacies of the harmonies.

The skylight yielded to a bank of grasses reaching up from the ground and swaying gently, brushing each other in their twilight dance. Percy was busily working away with a pestle and mortar atop a solid stone block serving as a table. Smoke rose from a small fire burning in a recess in the surface and a pot sat astride the logs, bubbling away, emitting steamy vapours that mingled with the night’s air, drifting across the garden. He continued grinding away as he looked up.

Cast aside your doubts. You know who I am and should already know why I’m here. You must have a lot of questions, but think for a moment and you will realise you also have the answers. You question if this is real? What is real? My standing before you is your immediate reality. The reality you have tuned into, that is why I have come to you now. Timing is everything. He tipped the contents of the mortar into the pot, produced a long wooden spoon and stirred clockwise briskly; the liquid formed into a swirling vortex. He tapped the spoon against the rim, clearing the remaining drops off before plunging it deep into the pot again, and then bringing a spoonful up to taste. Mmmm, perfect. As I said, timing is everything! He picked up a simple wooden cup from amongst the various paraphernalia scattered over the table, filled it and raised it to Perry and Lance. Come, share a drink.

This is some funny shit! They’ve really got you to go to town with this. Striolli held his bottle of champagne to his lips and took a gulp. I sure as hell ain’t drinking no herbal tea though pal...

This cannot be. Perry walked over and looked into the pot and the concoction within. He raised his eyes up to the cup clasped in Percy’s outstretched hand. Is that? No, no, this can’t be real. He shook his head in disbelief.

I understand your trepidation. I understand why you have doubts and will guide you and help you overcome this. I will cast doubt from you. Percy reassured him. Then you must drink and walk through the archway behind me and find what is hidden within, if you can. He motioned with his thumb over his shoulder, set down the cup and strode over towards the garden’s edge. En route he paused to pull out a crank, that he fitted into the skylights mechanism and then turned, opening it. A guitar and drum intro filled the garden. A riff gave way to voice. Percy closed his eyes, then raised and waved his arms, nodding his head in time with the music. Lance and Perry watched as Percy danced about, mumbling along to the lyrics before he then rose his voice in time with the chorus 'But what I really gotta know is; are you gonna go my way?' He then turned to them and said: And so.... seeing is believing. So believe. He grasped the wooden handrail and swung himself up and over the side, disappearing from view.

Chapter 1 - Two Years Earlier

How did I get myself roped into this? Oh yes, me and my big mouth. Got to cut down on the drinking! Mac reached out, turned the alarm clock face toward him, squinting in the half-light to make out the hands. It read 7.59am, just a minute to go before his alarm was set to go off. He swung his legs round and out of the bed, then sat upright and disabled the clock.

He got up from the bed, stretched and made his way into the en-suite bathroom and ran the cold tap. Splashing water on his face, he recalled the last time he’d been to the Skydive Centre. At one of the training sessions he’d taken some flak for being a banker and lashed out verbally to a couple of the others; they’d been winding him up, talking ‘crap’ about the economy being fake. He’d called the one legged hippy dude a work shy layabout, who sponged off of society and made the cute safari girl cry by calling her a ‘Soppy cow’.

They were doing it for charity. He was too. The charity begins at home charity, the one where Mac is the sole beneficiary as was always the case. In this instance however, he’d be winning a shiny new Jaguar that would be a welcome addition to his collection. He chuckled to himself and thought how they should have learnt the lesson by now. His ‘balls of steel’ were legendary amongst his contemporaries and had won him many a bet. He'd been one of the few traders in the City of London who was privy to the sell off strategy instigated by the US and had avoided the so called bargains that were being snapped up by other traders. They were in actual fact 'toxic assets' and so many had fallen for it, leading to huge losses, banking chaos, bail outs and the Great Recession. The insight he'd been given allowed Mac to turn the situation to his advantage and by shorting stock, he'd made millions.

The training sessions hadn't been all bad though, there was a cute Asian chick he'd taken a liking to, so he was looking forward to seeing her again. With that thought he took a long shower, got ready, picked up a bag he’d packed the night before and headed to the garage.

The route planner had called a 1 hour 50 minute journey time. He doubted it would take that long. He hit ‘Engine Start’ and the Aston Martin CC100 roared into life. Half an hour may be pushing it though... He turned on the stereo and selected a track. He accelerated the car hard, reversing out of its bay and swung it round, slamming on the breaks, screeching the car to an immediate halt whilst dropping the clutch and engaging first gear. He revved the engine and checked the clock, 8.59am. Ten seconds later it was 9.00am.

Go! The wheels gripped in and the vehicle sprang forward as the music kicked in and Mac drove out heading passed the other slumbering beasts parked up, gleaming under the lights. He accelerated on towards the exit ramp, then wound his way up through several sweeping spirals, building momentum through the curves and then breaking hard as he came out of the final curve. As Mac approached the security barrier it raised, recognising one of its own. He drove out onto the street and sped away singing First it giveth; Then it taketh away! He drove out of the city and onto the motorway. Hurtling along in the fast lane he came up behind a motorbike that was passing other traffic and did not yield since it was making up ground to