Magnus knew what Collins was up to. He was the cleverest and the bravest yet. Or maybe just the stupidest. He considered his options. He could take Collins downstairs now and finish him at leisure; one piece at a time. Hell, he could play his ace; cut off and eat Collins’s genitals while he watched. But he wanted to prove to Collins who was the stronger man. Make him admit it before he finished him off. No, it didn’t really matter what Collins thought once he was gone. And Magnus knew who the stronger of them was without having to prove it. But Bruno was here. If Magnus left it like this, there was a chance that Bruno would mention it outside the office. Strength was everything but the rumour of strength and ruthlessness was even more important. If people outside thought Magnus was letting people get away with insulting him, it would be the thin end of the wedge.
No. This was an opportunity to burn his supremacy into the minds of all those who thought to undermine him in the town. He’d bring in some of the others and humiliate Collins in front of them all before he took the wretch downstairs into his private abattoir. But there was plenty of time for that.
‘So you want to fight me, is that it?’
Collins said nothing.
‘Let go of him, Bruno.’
The heavy hand released his neck again. Collins raised his head and met Magnus’s gaze with steady eyes.
‘When a weak man and a strong man come to blows, it’s not a fight,’ said Collins. ‘It’s annihilation.’
Magnus pressed his lips together. He was meant to be a serious man, a man not easily amused. But he couldn’t help it.
He chuckled. He snorted. He laughed.
Soon Bruno was laughing too.
Seeing the misplaced smile on Collins’s face made him laugh harder. It took several minutes to get control of himself. After a few final, disbelieving chortles he said, ‘You’re a fucking piece of shit, Collins. You’ll get your come-uppance. Right after I thrash the smile off your face forever.’ He chuckled again. ‘But there are a few more things I wanted to talk to you about first. That’s why you’re still up here and not… downstairs.’
‘I don’t want to see you playing games like this again, understand me?’
‘Why, Mama?’ asked Hema, ‘It’s just pretending.’
‘Your father wouldn’t like it. Besides, girls, what makes you think you can go cutting up your toys like this? Where do you think you’ll get another doll?’
‘We can make one,’ said Harsha. ‘We make dollies at school all the time.’
‘Not like this one. These smooth-skinned ones are hard to find and they’re expensive too. I won’t be getting you another.’
‘Can we play the meat game if daddy’s not here?’
Maya stood with her arms folded and looked from one pretty face to the other. She could see no harm in them at all. She’d told them their father wouldn’t approve and that was an understatement. If he caught them playing the ‘meat game’ it might turn the tables; instead of her leaving, he might kick them out. The excuse she’d given wasn’t really anything to do with Richard though. Watching her own children play at butchering and serving up the Chosen turned her stomach. It made her feel uneasy.
It was particularly true today when, instead of blowing south east, the prevailing wind had reversed and smells from her husband’s workplace were carried back towards the town, back past their house. This was the second time she’d found the girls serving ‘meat’ to their toys and she wanted it to stop. If not, she wanted not to see it. Ever.
‘I’ll make you a deal. You can play the meat game. But you must never get caught doing it – either by me or your father. That means it’s a secret game. You never talk about it to anyone. All right?’
The twins looked at each other and made no attempt to hide their delight at the idea of a secret game. It was even better than the original.
They both nodded as if pulled by the same strings.
‘All right, Mama.’
Nine
‘What have you been telling the townsfolk, Collins?’
No hesitation.
‘The truth.’
Magnus closed his eyes for a count of ten.
‘You’re not making things any better for yourself by being a clever dicky. What exactly have you told them?’
‘I’ve told them that they don’t have to eat meat to survive.’
This much Magnus knew. Reports had been coming in about Prophet John for months. He hadn’t believed them at first. No one could talk such nonsense for more than a few days without being laughed bleeding into a gutter somewhere. But the rumours and stories had persisted and Magnus had sent out his feelers. People came back telling him about the lock-up meetings, how they were full every week, how word was spreading around the town that meat, the very basis of all life, was not necessary in the diet. Even then, Magnus couldn’t believe it was a serious problem. So there was a lunatic spreading cow shit about what people should and shouldn’t eat. So what? No one was going to fall for that kind of idiocy.
But they did. In substantial numbers.
For the first time in MMP’s history, in the history of Abyrne, supplies of meat had been greater than the demand for it. A few cuts of meat went unsold in butchers’ shops around the town. A few cuts of meat browned, greyed and spoiled. Magnus had never known the like of it. Steaks rotting in their displays while poor people all over the town starved.
What were these non-eaters of meat eating instead? The vegetables and grains that the town farmers grew and sold were poor quality at best. A few people grew their own food, albeit reluctantly, to supplement their diets. What they really craved was meat. Meat would keep them strong for work. Meat would help their children survive to adulthood. The ability to afford and eat meat gave you status; it meant that you weren’t meat yourself. It meant that you were above cattle. The townsfolk ate meat to stay human. For someone to come along and tell them they didn’t need meat, that eating it was wrong; it was the most outrageous and insulting thing Magnus had ever heard. And some of the townsfolk were swallowing it the way they’d swallowed mince and stew the previous week.
John Collins was responsible for all of it. John Collins was going to pay.
The rumours were unbelievable but they were true. Magnus had to accept it as a fact when orders from butchers and other meat processors went down. He didn’t want the workers at MMP to know so he kept the chain speeds high, told his managers that demand was climbing just as it always had. And then he sent unmarked vans with loads of un-saleable meat to be dumped out near the wasteland where no one could see or smell it.
The rumours carried a supernatural element too. If the idea of not eating meat was lunatic and unbelievable, the other aspect of the rumours was suicidal. How sophisticated people could believe in such self-destructive lies, he had no idea. But it revealed people’s nature. People were weak. People were stupid. People were gullible. People were corruptible. Upon such truths he had built his empire.
Now that the man was here, before he beat him to a pulp of blood and bones in the pointless fight he was picking, and before he carved him up, he wanted to know what muck Collins had been spreading.
Maybe, he thought, maybe I’ll make his a public slaughter. The first Abyrne has ever seen. He smiled. The idea made him feel a lot better. It would be the kind of execution that no one would ever forget. The kind of drawn-out death that people would write down and tell their children about. Collins would be the meat on his table for weeks and Magnus would be feared for eternity.
People would eat meat gladly. Obediently. The way they were supposed to.
From time to time Shanti passed through the herd of new mothers to check on the progress of WHITE-047 and her new calf. The calf was male and as stock from BLUE-792 there was a good chance it would become a bull and avoid the meat herd. Shanti was quietly delighted about this. It almost fitted with his fantasy of the calf growing up as a child. The reality, of course, was that the young bull would face all the same mutilations as any other young male except for castration. However, instead of being taken for slaughter when it reached maturity, the new bull might have years of successful mating to prolong its life. It was the best any of the Chosen could expect and Shanti was glad for that tiny mercy.