I am breaking, the Machinery said.
Alexander had not heard it for days.
I am breaking.
It sounded different tonight: like a child.
‘Again,’ said Amile. The tutor’s voice seemed distant, as if it came from another room. ‘Recite it again.’
Alexander looked to the window. His sister was below, playing with marbles in the courtyard. I’ll try to speak to father again tonight. He knew he would be called a liar. But there was no other choice; he had to make them understand.
The boy turned to face Amile, and started over again.
‘On the third day, the tribe gathered on the Primary Hill, to be entertained by the madman.
‘“This is when all shall change,” the madman said. But the people did not believe him, and laughed in their ignorance.
‘“You will be punished,” said one.
‘“Punished by the Gods,” said another.’
I am breaking.
Alexander paused, and looked to the ceiling. There was nothing there.
Ruin will come with the One. You know who it is.
‘Continue.’ Amile’s hooked nose twitched. ‘And mean it; as things stand, you are lying to us both.’
Alexander looked once more to the window. Clack, clack, clack, went the marbles.
‘The prophet Arandel lifted a stone. He held it before his people and said: “This is matter; it too has energy. It too is understood by the Machinery, which knows the birds in the sky and the fish in the sea, the rocks at the core and the reptiles of the South. These words have been spoken by the Operator.”
‘The people laughed again. “If he told you all this, Arandel – where is he?” Arandel dropped the stone and looked to the sky.
‘“He is here.”’
Amile was smiling.
‘In the centre of the ground, at the peak of the hill, ten paces from where they sat, a fire had started to burn, as if of its own accord.
‘“Arandel, what have you done?”
‘“What witchcraft is this?” But their talking ceased, for they had seen something in the fire. A man stepped forth from the blaze, his cloak burning with flames of its own, dark and cold. The people wept, for they saw in this cloak the reflections of their own souls.
‘“He has come from the ground itself,” said Arandel. “From the ground and into flame, to the salvation of us all.”
‘This man came amid them and, as the tribe fell back and cowered before him, opened his arms. “It is your first Selection year,” he said. “You have been chosen. Nothing will be the same for you now.”
‘He walked among them.
‘“I have come from the Underland. I have come to save the Plateau.”’
Amile clapped his hands. ‘In seven years, Paprissi, that is the best that you have read.’
Alexander bowed.
‘What happened next?’
The boy cleared his throat.
‘And so the tribe received the Machinery, the power of the Underland. It would choose the greatest leaders of the Overland, its Tacticians and Strategists, from now until the end of time, be they bakers or butchers, merchants or artists, boys or girls, men or women. And thus, the Overland would grow under their wisdom, to become the envy of all the great Plateau.
‘In return for this gift, the Operator asked only one thing; that the people must never question the Selections of the Machinery.’
‘And long may it continue,’ said Amile. ‘The Machinery knows.’
‘The Machinery knows,’ said Alexander. And I know the Machinery.
Before Alexander was a red velvet curtain, fastened by a golden knot. The boy stood still for a moment, wondering if he had been noticed.
‘Come.’
Sucking in a breath, Alexander pushed through.
The study was an airy, spherical, stone-walled space, its ceiling formed of thick clear glass that could be winched open at points to allow the entry of cooling airs. It was night, now; starlight illumined everything. This room, unlike its counterparts in other parts of the dreary mansion, was in constant flux. Perhaps it reflected the mind and travels of Jaco Paprissi, Alexander’s father, the head of the Paprissi Financial House and lord of the manor.
Jaco and his men were the only Overlanders allowed to sail from the Plateau, and he had just returned from his most recent voyage. Items were still being unpacked from the wooden chests that filled the great courtyard, the most interesting or curious gravitating upwards to this study where they could be examined more closely. Alexander drank it in: on the second shelf to his left, a wooden statue depicted a man and a woman locked in primitive combat; above this, a row of silver instruments, like finely wrought blades; and on the floor to his right, a bronze representation of some kind of war machine, what appeared to be a trebuchet lined with cannon, rolling forward of its own accord.
In the centre of the room was a brass contraption, a long thick tube covered in golden letters in some foreign tongue. At the bottom of the tube was an eyepiece, into which Jaco peered.
‘This is new,’ the older man said. ‘It is … incredible. You can see things … well, it matters not.’
He turned to the boy and grinned.
‘It’s much better than banks and credit, eh?’
Jaco left his new toy and walked to his son, putting a hand on his shoulder and