Knight Fall (A Work in Progress)

Three days after his father died, Marcus Ligero found himself on a boat, speeding through the driving rain toward an island without a name. Although he sat as low as he could, the rain still stung his face, and he was forced to bow his head. It seemed hours before the boat slowed to a crawl, and by then he felt sick. The boat's pilot, a lawyer named Curtis Amory, seemed entirely unfazed.

"If you're gonna puke, do it over the side, yeah?" Curtis said when he glanced back at Marcus.

Marcus swallowed and stood, carefully. "I'll be fine."

The lawyer shrugged and steered the cigarette boat toward a slapdash dock low in the murky water. He cut the engine and stepped over the side, where the wooden slats of the dock strained visibly under his hiking boots.

"Hand me that rope, would you?" Curtis said. Marcus bent to retrieve the end of the coil at his feet and tossed it over. He waited until Curtis had tied a bowline around one of the dock's supports before he stepped out. Again the structure strained, but it couldn't be more than a few feet of water beneath them.

The fog was thickest here on the shore. Marcus followed his guide, and whenever he lagged more than a few steps behind he began to lose sight of the man. Curtis had a habit of moving quickly, and his attention always seemed laser-focused in several directions at once. He was fit and hearty, a few years younger than Marcus, maybe mid-fifties.

They made their way along a narrow muddy path that seemed trodden out by brute force over the gnarled, uneven ground. Bare bush branches clawed at their legs, threatening to snag their clothing. The wind pushed them forward, up the slope of a hill, or so it seemed to Marcus. At one point the fog began to abate, until the shapes of bare trees stood out in the distance, black shapes on a gray canvas over a fields of dead brown grass spackled with the dark greens and reds of some heartier grass.

At last their destination loomed ahead and above them, at the top of the hill. It was a house, and one not unlike Marcus had seen before, many times.

"Hey, I've seen this movie," he said, a nervous tone beneath his smile.

Curtis smiled as well. "Yeah, but this one's not haunted. I promise."

Marcus was fairly certain he didn't believe in ghosts, but the house did nothing to reassure him. The whole structure was dark wood that seemed as if it hadn't been dry in ages, if ever. The windows were obscured by sun-bleached curtains that might have been a dark red at some point, but were now a matte pink. It looked as if the roof was sagging in places, giving the house a disjointed look between its two wings connected by the center portion.

"Nothing spooky, huh?" Marcus said.

"I didn't say that. Come on."

They reached the front porch, which stretched across the front of the mansion--it wasn't a house, Marcus decided--and he had barely caught his breath before the door opened. He expected a butler, maybe, or perhaps a hunchback who answered everything with "Yes, master." Instead he was greeted by a woman, tall and thin, dressed for the weather in a thick sweater and jeans. Her dark hair was cut short, and her brown eyes stood out against her nearly porcelain skin.

"Colonel Ligero, if you please," she said with a warm smile as she invited him in.

"Call me Mark. I'm retired, miss."

"Mary," she said. Curtis followed Marcus inside, and Mary shut the door behind them. "Coffee?"

"Yes please, Mary," Curtis said as he removed his gloves. "Mary is our caretaker. Sixth generation, is it?" he asked as Mary led them down the hall. Marcus noted the interior was just as old as the exterior, but had seen more tender love and care. Almost every surface was covered in some variety dark wood, polished to a shine. The scent of mulling spices filled the air, but it was nothing overwhelming. It was well cared for, but bare.

"Seventh," Mary answered Curtis's question.

"What, no suits of armor? Axes on the wall?" Marcus teased.

"We keep all that in the basement," Mary said with good humor. She opened one of two French doors, revealing the largest kitchen Marcus had ever seen in a house. There were four islands for prepping food across the room, with almost more counterspace than Marcus had square footage in his apartment. It was obviously an attempt at a commercial kitchen.

"Wowee," he said slowly.

"We do serve large parties on occasion," Mary explained as she crossed to the coffeemaker. "The house is something of a club for our members. I'm not sure how much Mr. Amory has told you."

"Just that this was my father's place or something," Marcus said.

"Or something," Curtis said with a smile as he received a coffee mug from Mary. He took a sip and sighed happily. "Your father owned a stake, sort of like a partner at a law firm. You buy in, you get a vote, perks, so on. He was one of twenty-three members."

Mary handed a coffee mug to Marcus and said, "If you need me I'll be upstairs."

It took her more than a few steps to cross the kitchen. Curtis sipped his coffee as she did, and smiled at Marcus as the awkward silence loomed between them. Only when the French doors closed did Curtis speak again.

"So Marcus," he said, "you ever hear of the Illuminati?"

a reply to: Factis
Absolutely loved reading this! Was so let down when the end scrolled into view, because you have a way of writing that captured my imagination only a few authors can do.

I would love to see you participate in the next short story contest. You won't have to wait for that too long either.

a reply to: TDDAgain

Well thank you very much for the compliment! I will be continuing to work on this story, so don't fret. It's not over yet. I was going to go back and edit my original post, but now that I think about it people would have trouble picking up where they left off, so I'll add new posts to this thread as I can work on them.

As for the contest, I'll have to look into it. I saw a few threads about it, so I'll read those and see what's what.

a reply to: Factis

Wow, out standing writing here. I love what you have so far. Illuminati, yes I like where this one is going.

I was writing some short stories for the grandkids when COVID lockdown was going on. Instead of babysitting, I was reading my stories to them over the Alexa show. Visual communication became a lifeline at that time.

Enjoyed reading your story.

I'm hoping you'll consider participating in our Bi-Annual Short Story Contests. Next one will be on December 1st.


Johnny

a reply to: Factis

Wow, visual, great imagery, solid characters, sounds like a Netflix series. Give it a try; this is what we use for our pilot projects.

www.celtx.com...

Thank you all for the compliments. I will certainly consider participating in the December writing contest, if I have time. I read through the thread detailing the rules, and saw there is a "non-writer" category, which confused me. I presume if I were to enter I would be entering as a writer. I'm not sure what the "non-writer" category is. Any explanation would be helpful.

At any rate, I will write up my next installment in a future post here, and put a link to it at the bottom of the first installment so people can follow along more easily. I came up with this story by dusting off an old idea, but strictly speaking, I don't know where it's going to go, so this is fun. Hopefully I can avoid writing myself into a corner.

(I just realized I can't edit my first post to link to this continuation, which is upsetting, but it can't be helped. For the first part of this story, click here).

Marcus chuckled at the off-beat question and waited for the punchline. Curtis sipped his coffee and waited, a slight smile in his expression.

"What, you're serious?" Marcus asked, and Curtis nodded. "You mean the room full of men in dark suits smoking cigars, plotting the end of the world?"

"Is that what you think they are?" Curtis said.

Marcus stammered, trying to land on a single question. Finally, he said, "Why are we talking about this?"

Curtis set his mug aside and crossed his arms. "In 1776, a Bavarian philosopher and professor named Adam Weishaupt founded the Perfectibilists, or what you know as the Illuminati. Their goal, Weishaupt wrote, was 'to put an end to the machinations of the purveyors of injustice, to control them without dominating them.' In part, he opposed a great deal of the religious influence over political and social matters."

"Uh-huh."

"To make a long story short, secret societies were outlawed in Bavaria by a number of government edicts, the last of which came in 1790. By then the Illuminati had spread, notably to Portugal. A year prior, the Military Order of Christ in Portugal had become secularized. You follow?"

"Hanging on by my fingernails," Marcus said with some amusement.

"Okay, so rewind a few hundred years. You've got the Knights Templar in the Holy Land fighting the Crusades, up until 1312 when they were dissolved and their members imprisoned, executed, or sent into virtual exile. Namely, to Portugal, where the Military Order of Christ absorbed them."

"You're saying the Templars ended up in the Illuminati."

"Some of them, yeah. And that order persists today."

"I'm still waiting for the punchline," Marcus said. "What's with the history lesson?"

"Finish your coffee." Curtis gestured for Marcus to follow. The older man gulped the last of his drink and set the mug aside, hurrying to follow Curtis out of the kitchen.

"You put a king in power," Curtis said as he led Marcus down the hall they had come through. "You give him a taste of that power, then one day you tell him he can't be king anymore. You banish him, and tell him he has to submit to his betters now. Tell me, how well do you think he's going to take it?"

"He's not."

"During the Crusades, the Templars were as kings, riding roughshod over the Holy Land--and Europe--doing as they pleased for two centuries. In Portugal, they passed their legacy down to their sons, and so it went until the arrival of the exiles from the Illuminati. By then the Templars had reestablished themselves, and continued in secret what they had done in public. And in the Illuminati, they found kindred spirits."

Curtis paused at a door in the foyer, adjacent to the staircase that led upward. "The Illuminati were as children to the grandfathers of the Templars, but what the Illuminati lacked in experience they made up for in enthusiasm. Both groups had established themselves and operated with a great deal of power, but the question remained: could they coexist?"

Curtis opened the door, revealing a staircase leading downward. He flicked the light switch, and began a slow plod down the poured concrete steps. Marcus followed, shivering slightly as the air grew colder. He fought back a sneeze at the damp smell.

"They found a way, over time. The Templars dealt in goods, cash, and property. The Illuminati made currency of information. Neither could really operate without the other, and it worked out to their mutual benefit until somewhere around the middle of the 21st century."

"What happened then?" Marcus asked, if only to stave off his own frustration and keep his mind off the cold pouring from the bare concrete walls.

"Quantum computing, more or less. The emergence of a computer that could teach itself."

"Artificial intelligence?"

"It's real, Marcus. And it tore the Templars and the Illuminati apart, almost completely. They called it Voltaire. You know, 'if God did not exist it would be necessary to invent him?' Gives you an idea of what they thought of their machine. They built it as an impartial governor, capable of predicting outcomes. The end goal was to let Voltaire run the world, to a more perfect end than men in their finite wisdom could manage."

The pair reached the bottom of the stairs. Curtis flicked another switch, illuminating a cavernous room filled with what looked like sundry storage. Boxes lined the walls, covered in dust, in between covered furniture and what might have been works of art wrapped in butcher paper. Across the room was a pair of metal doors recessed into a frame. Marcus realized as they drew closer it was an elevator.

Curtis pushed the single button for the elevator with his thumb. Light passed across the button, as if scanning his thumbprint, before he dropped his hand from it.

"The Illuminati and the Templars took a vote. If they could reach a point where secret societies were no longer necessary, where mankind could be ruled openly without the manipulations that had been necessary, that seemed like a good thing to some. To a slim majority, in fact."

"But the others didn't want to relinquish the perks of playing king," Marcus said.

Curtis smiled. "That's right. The group split into four: the Templars, the Illuminati, and a third group comprised of those looking for their open utopia. And the fourth group," he said as the elevator doors opened. He stepped inside, and bid Marcus to follow. "The fourth group we call Knight Fall."

originally posted by: Factis
.... I read through the thread detailing the rules, and saw there is a "non-writer" category, which confused me. I presume if I were to enter I would be entering as a writer. I'm not sure what the "non-writer" category is. Any explanation would be helpful.

Yes... this comes up often

The "writer" status is a badge that goes underneath your Avatar name. To get such badge, one has to participate in the Contest as a 'non-writer' (regardless if it's you or Steven King). The ATS Community votes your story against others that also are submitting against other 'non-writer' participants.

Am I just confusing you more??

Bottomline is you can enter the contest but you'll have to add the non-writer after the title.

Speaking of such you'll notice that we use a identifier on each Contest. For example this last Contest was SOS-2022. I'm going to give an example of how to create a title if you had participated in the last one..

"Knight Fall" - SOS2022 - non-writer.
We just take the first initial of the Theme and add the year to the title (easy peasy as the kids say)

Hopefully that helps clear up the confusion and we look forward to seeing what you create. We'll announce the theme on the 1st of December.

Cheers!
Johnny

a reply to: JohnnyAnonymous

Thank you for the explanation. I suspected that's what it was, but you know what they say about assumptions. I understand clearly now.

a reply to: Factis

I just saw your continuation, have a try in the contest, I would enjoy reading your input with appreciation.