The vigil at the manor (Part 3/7)
Mister Meadows finds out the truth. Miss Brahms skirts it. A Distant Stars mosaic novel story.
The vigil at the Manor is a seven-part science fiction story and one of the stories in the Distant Stars mosaic novel. A new part will be released every Saturday.
A mosaic novel is made up of interconnected short stories. Head on over to the Distant Stars story index to read the other stories.
Trigger warning: Discussions of suicide.
Mister Meadows remembered how Mister Bron had looked on the day he "fell ill".
The servants had all left the table after breakfast but Mister Bron was sitting by the fireplace, staring at the empty fireplace as if it held something interesting.
Meadows usually avoided talking to Mister Bron. He found the man intractable and far too many encounters with him had caused him pain. But on that day, instead of walking past him as he usually did, he stopped.
Mister Bron had such a strange look on his face that he had to stop and look. He looked up and for a while, they just stared at each other, as if at a loss for words.
“Are you all right, Mister Bron?” he said, quite convinced that his act of kindness would be met with scorn as usual.
But unexpectedly, Mister Bron gave him a small smile.
“You’re going off to the penthouse now, aren’t you?”
Surprised by the smile and the change of subject, he just nodded. The role of the Penthouse Master was a coveted one and he heard that Bron was one of the people vying for that position. Again, he waited for a barb but once more Mister Bron surprised him.
“That's good, I’m really happy for you, Mister Meadows. I hope you make something out of your life more than I ever did for mine.”
Before he could reply, Mister Bron said goodbye and walked away.
Meadows didn't think much about the strange affair — he had to get ready for Lord Luxor's business trip to the capital after all. As a one of the top executives of Mantora Corporation his needs had to be taken care of. After all, it was the executives of Mantora Corp that enabled them to survive, just as they did when they rescued their ancestors from that long-dead home planet, Earth.
"I got the position he wanted. Mister Bron had been desperate to get out of the cellar."
She stared at him, then laughed. "You have half of that sentence right."
He blinked. "Half?"
She squeezed his hand. "It's not your fault, silly. Mister Bron wanted to get out. Like all of us, he wanted to get out but he couldn't."
Not all of us, Meadows thought. He was content at the manor. He never wanted to leave. But he knew what Miss Brahms meant now.
"He ... wanted gene therapy. He wanted to reject the Silence."
She took away her hand and sighed. "All the time I knew him. He had always talked about living life as one of the Free, able to work in those gleaming towers, owning a flitter."
"It's a fairytale," he muttered. "The Silence enables us to serve despite our limitations, don't you agree, Miss Brahms? I see nothing more pleasant and settled than serving Lord and Lady Luxor. Maybe I do not have the right gene make up and smarts to tinker with buttons and holograms in some tall building, but I could be of service to them with my hands."
"A settled life." Miss Brahms said softly. "A servant's life."
“Maybe I should have known. He did have a funny look on his face,” he said, his eyes on the still figure on the bed.
“None of us did, Mister Meadows.”
“But you did.”
“I was almost too late,” she said softly.
“What made you think that he … would…?” he couldn’t complete the sentence.
She shook her head again. “I don't know. Just little things here and there. He seemed so down. I’ve never seen him this way before. Mister Bron, you see, he's such a strong, brave man. You don’t know half the things that he has endured. I thought this sadness would pass, that he would brave it like he always did.”
“Has he … has he woken up since…”
She nodded. “He’s asleep more than awake. And he’s still very weak, but when he is awake he’s … he’s just so listless and spiritless. Like he’s tired to even exist.”
"It is times like these that ... I wish we didn't have to live by the Silence. If we had one of those machines that Lord Luxor has-- "
"But we don't," she said, her tone sharp.
He flinched. He could not blame Miss Brahms' curt tone. They were not supposed to talk about the life beyond the Silence. The life of machines and blood that could turn you smart. That was not their lot. If not for the Silence, they wouldn't have been allowed to exist.
“Are you afraid, Miss Baxter?" he murmured. "Are you nervous that he will do it again? And that Lord Luxor would turn him out?”
She frowned at that. A haunted look came into her eyes. “Bron is so hard to read. He tells me he's better, he tells me he's moved on, whatever that means.”
And then she covered her face, sobs shaking her slight frame.
Alarmed, he reached out but hesitated before he could touch her shoulder.
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” he said, drawing back his hand.
“No. It’s not you, Mister Meadows,” she said, blinking away tears. “It’s just been so hard, holding it in, pretending that everything is all right when it’s not. It’s a relief that you now know.”
“You were trying to be strong for him. And for everyone else. You are brave, brave soul, Miss Brahms.”
“Brave?” she laughed bitterly. “I was terrified out of my wits when I found him. But we had to save him and I did what had to be done. But when I drained the bathtub, I watched his blood flow down the pipes and I wondered how anyone could lose so much blood and still be alive.” Her voice broke at that, and she looked away.
“I’m sorry. That was a ghastly thing to say. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The blood. There was just so much of it. What a barbaric way to end his own life when a pill would do. Ah, but we are the Silenced so we could not use modern means. That's what they tell us. I still see it when I close my eyes. So, yes. I’m afraid I’ll find him again but this time I’ll be too late.”
Meadows swallowed. Dear, dear Miss Brahms. How strong was she to bear this alone!
“And you haven’t told anyone? Even Lady Luxor?”
She shook her head. “She has so much on her mind now than to listen to my silly fears.”
“There’s nothing silly about that,” he said indignantly. “And well, you have me now and we can weather this together. You could tell me all the ghastly things you want, and I won’t turn away.”
She smiled tremulously. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I could even help. Maybe I could bring him something to read. He loves reading, doesn't he?”
That made her laugh for some reason. He quirked an eyebrow at that.
“Oh, it's just that Aiman has flooded him with books. Mister Bron told me today that he didn't know what to do with the lot and which one to read first. He’s asleep most of the time, anyway, and isn’t awake for more than a few minutes at a time.”
“Not books then,” he said, at a loss. “I’m not sure what to do then.”
“Well, just treat him like you would. He needs a friend now.”
He looked down at that. “If I treated him like I would, I wouldn't really talk to him, you know.”
“Don’t blame yourself. He hasn’t made it easy.”
Just then, they heard a loud thud. They turned to see Mister Bron reaching for something on his side table.
Meadows stayed in the shadows as Miss Brahms helped Mister Bron lie back. They spoke to each other for a while, their voices too soft and low for Meadows to make out. Then she helped him drink, lifting him by the shoulders and letting his his head lean against her shoulder as she tipped the mug to his lips.
Mister Bron raised a trembling hand to the mug, the white bandage around his wrist stark against the dim light.
Meadows felt as if he should help, but he was rooted to his spot, feeling like an intruder of a private, all-too vulnerable moment.
After a few sips, Mister Bron shook his head, but Miss Brahms was not having it, whispering instead that he should take a few more sips. The man complied, but he had grown visibly tired, sinking deeper into her support as he drank.
_It was as if he was tired to even exist,_ she had said.
After a few more sips, Miss Brahms finally removed the glass and helped him lie down again. More whispered words and then she busied himself with the blankets, covering him with it.
“Is he all right?” he whispered when she finally returned to his side.
“When he reached out, he caused a book on the side table to fall. He said he was looking for something, but when I asked him what, he said he couldn’t remember.” She shook her head. “He gets muddled sometimes.”
They fell quiet again, watching him sleep.
“You take such good care of him,” he said softly. “He’s very lucky to have you.”
She only gave him a shy smile in response.
“I'll take the cups to the kitchen and bring you some tea. Please don’t overtire yourself.”
“Thank you, Mister Meadows. And I won’t.” She returned to the chair by Mister Bron’s side and reached out to brush aside the hair that was covering his face.
He could never understand, and probably never will, why she was so kind to Mister Bron. The man had been impossible to bear — even for Meadows who rarely found any cause to dislike anyone.
But perhaps this was just the sort of person she was — a woman so kind she could love the devil himself.
How things have changed by the discovery of that small blade at the corner of the bathroom, he thought to himself as he headed downstairs.
And Meadows decided then and there that yes, he would be friends to Mr Bron from now on if it pleases Miss Brahms.
He looked down at his hands, wondering what it took to do this to themselves. Surely their lives were absolutely perfect at the manor? Why would Mister Bron do what he did?
Then, the realisation that his hands were empty hit him. He paused at the door, wondering if he should go back to return for the cups, when he heard Mister Bron say: "How do you bear listening to him?"
Look out for Part 4 of 7 next Saturday!
Photo by Ankit Manoharan on Unsplash. Read my policy on using AI images.
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This is getting interesting—the silenced sound like an underclass of people who don't want to or can't use tech. You have a way of bringing up interesting questions.
Enjoying reading it Liz.
In the comments section you have "Guess THAT Miss ......"
Instead of " Guess WHAT Miss...."
Looking forward to next read.