Dinner
Petra took a shower and tried to look her best. She desperately wanted to speak to Mario. He had been whisked away. His formidable mother pounced on him when they reached the bottom of the staircase. She was reminded of a dog grabbing a rabbit. Mario was plucked away before she knew what was happening.
Moments later, hands reached out to take her away. They led her down steep steps and along narrow passages. There were so many twists and turns she had no idea where she was going. All she knew was that she was underground and everything looked very old.
Then, suddenly, she was back on the surface again. They passed through a door and everything looked more modern. It wasn’t entirely modern but, at least, it was no longer medieval. The décor was in the grand colonial style, popular when the British and others were carving out empires.
She was reminded of the Victoria Falls Hotel and Cecil Rhodes’ grand mansion in Cape Town. The Cabal evidently had a deep nostalgia for the days of empire. Men in colonial uniforms stood ready to open doors for her. Women in frilled aprons and black skirts showed her to her room.
Petra was suspicious of all of them. There were different sorts of servants and it was difficult to tell them apart. It was also difficult to tell who were servants and who were not. Prime ministers could be turned into servants if the correct pressure was applied. Cuthbert Maguire had demonstrated that. He summoned prime ministers to his presence and gave them orders. They went out of fear he would instruct his newspapers and TV-channels to turn against them.
The same went for brilliant inventors like Olaf Magnusson. He was the Cabal’s chief spymaster and executioner. He had been pressured into working for them. Mario figured that he was their greatest asset and greatest danger. He likened Olaf to the early cannons. They gave their handlers immense firepower but had a tendency to blow up in their faces.
Petra sifted through the assortment of garments that had been placed at her disposal. There were so many she would have no difficulty finding something suitable. After a bad start, she was being treated as an honoured guest.
In an hour, someone would arrive to help her with her hair. In the meantime, she would soak in a hot bath and try to get some heat back into her body. She was tired and needed sleep but that was out of the question. Cuthbert Maguire was holding a dinner party and her presence was required.
Mario sat on one side of his parents and Petra sat on the other. The Great Hall was crowded. He had never seen it so full. A mighty gathering of the Cabal was in progress. Members had flown in from all over the world and were seated according to ancient tradition.
The hall was in the grand baronial style. The floor at one end was raised and a long table ran from one side to the other. It was the so-called high table. Senior members sat there. Others took their meals below in the main body of the hall.
In theory, all members of the Cabal were equal. The same principle operated in medieval times. In those days the king was first amongst equals and his top barons were second and so on down the line. Just how far down the line was indicated by seating arrangements.
Mario’s parents sat immediately below the high table. They were high up but still had a way to go. It amused Mario to think that if he and Petra combined their family fortunes they might, one day, dine at high table. That was what his mother wanted and it wasn’t going to happen for a variety of reasons.
He glanced across at Petra. Tonight she looked stunning. She usually looked a mess. That was because she didn’t want to stand out as a privileged rich kid at university. She wanted to look like the other students. Unfortunately, she had chosen a particularly scruffy sort of student as a role model.
Someone had worked wonders with her hair and she was wearing a fabulous dress. His mother complimented her. Mario didn’t often agree with his mother but he did this time. They exchanged smiles.
He hoped Petra had stuck to the agreed script. It was vital that they tell the same story. They had worked out a plausible account of what happened and had rehearsed it over and over again. David had asked penetrating question, trying to get them to contradict one another. He had warned that an investigator would do that.
So far, the only person to question him was his mother and her questions were about Petra. She was obsessed by the idea that they were passionately in love and their traumatic experiences had cemented a bond between them. She had even indicated that she could arrange for them to spend the night together.
Mario sat back and stared into space. That was his defence in situations like this. The people here regarded him as a nerd. That was their way of saying he was a harmless creep who didn’t know how the real world worked.
They were mistaken. They thought he was obsessed by primitive lifeforms that lived in swamps and other dark places. That was only part of it. He was also obsessed by people like them. He had grown up in their company and wanted to know what made them tick. With that knowledge he would be in a better position to exterminate them.
Modern science had developed ingenious ways of eradicating dangerous pests. The mosquito was one. Highly selective sprays targeted them and left other insects unharmed. Something similar was needed for the Cabal.
The dinner ended, the plates were cleared away and a gong sounded. That was the signal for the servants to leave the hall. When the last had gone, the doors were secured and talk on the lower tables ceased. All eyes turned to the high table. The Cabal had a Grand Master and Cuthbert Maguire occupied that prestigious position. He rose to deliver his speech.
Mario had heard it before. It was about leading families and how the rest of humanity needed them to survive. If Cuthbert was to be believed, a few families had nurtured the rise of human civilisation. Revolutionaries might overthrow the old order but they could not rule. They needed people to run the show.
The old families were soon back. All they had to do was put on new clothes and shout the right slogans. In their old clothes they were hunted down as oppressors of the people. In the uniform of the people’s revolutionary army they were greeted as saviours.
Smiles appeared on Chinese faces in the hall. Mario recalled his father saying that China had been saved by billionaires who rose to the top and took control of the country’s governing party. They continued to call it communist and that made everyone happy.
Mario had heard it all before and was beginning to lose interest when Cuthbert spoke about the reason for the present meeting. Their group was facing a challenge. Meddlesome people were inquiring into their affairs. Stern action had been taken to overcome the threat and more was needed. That was something they would be discussing during the next few days.
Then came the big surprise. Carla was a hero. She shot Charles Paget when he and his nephew, David, abducted Petra de Villiers and Mario Mendez-Klein. Carla later died with her parents in a tragic car accident. Their deaths were deeply mourned.
Cuthbert recounted how Petra and Mario suffered innumerable hardships as they were dragged through southern Africa by a band of desperados organised by Sipho Maduna, an associate of the Pagets. Maduna claimed to be a close relative of Petra’s mother: that was a total fabrication.
The good news was that Petra and Mario had escaped their captors and were in the hall. Cuthbert called on them to stand. Mario took Petra’s hand and they rose to thunderous applause. Cuthbert recalled that he was about to fly out of Cape Town when he heard that the pair were in Maputo. They almost didn’t make it. In the confusion, following a plane crash, Mario gave the wrong location. Fortunately, he realised his mistake and made a second telephone call.
Mario’s mind numbed. Nothing was as he had imagined and it took a while for the full significance to sink in. He had always thought of Cuthbert Maguire as invincible. The great man was so thorough in everything he did. This time he had stuffed in a big way. Someone was feeding Cuthbert false information and it wasn’t difficult to guess who that person was.