The Tower A Novel (Sanctus)

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By the time Liv and Tariq made it back inside the compound the approaching dust cloud was clearly visible in the sky and everyone

had emerged from the silver-sided buildings and gathered by the central pool, all eyes looking in the same direction, waiting for

whatever was heading their way to arrive. With everyone gathered together like this, Liv realized how few of them were left. She

counted thirteen including her – a mixture of oil workers and a couple of the riders who had stayed along with Tariq.

‘Thirty riders!’ a voice called from halfway up the steps to one of the guard towers. ‘Maybe more.’

‘Ours?’ Tariq called back.

There was a pause as the man reached the top and raised a pair of field glasses to his eyes. ‘No,’ he shouted down, ‘not ours.

’

Tariq snapped to attention like a shotgun being closed. ‘Close the gates.’ He barked at a startled-looking rigger still wearing

his white work overalls. ‘NOW!’ He watched the rigger scurry off then called back up to the watchtower. ‘How long until they

get here?’

‘Five minutes, maybe less. They’re riding pretty hard.’ The man paused again and stared through the field glasses. ‘They have

guns.’

Tariq turned to the assembled few. ‘Who knows how to operate the fifty-calibre cannons?’ He was met with silence and a ring of

frightened faces. ‘What about rifles – can anyone fire a rifle?’ A couple of drill technicians put their hands up nervously. ‘

Good, go and get weapons from the locker in the transport hangar and push some of the vehicles outside to give us cover. We’ll

use that as a fallback position and try and keep them at bay using the tower guns if we need to.’

Liv looked on with a sense of detachment. Part of her felt anxious about the approaching men and what their intentions might be,

but another, stronger part felt that preparing to meet potential violence with more violence was the wrong move. The land wasn’t

even theirs and neither was the water running out of it.

‘Stop!’ she said. ‘This is wrong, this is not how it is supposed to be. We should not fight. We should welcome them.’

Tariq looked at her as if she had gone mad. ‘But they are riding here at speed and they are armed. Their intentions are clear I

think.’

‘And what of our intentions – if we meet them with closed gates and pointed guns, what does that say about us?’

‘It says we are strong and we are prepared to defend what is ours.’

‘But this isn’t ours. A few days ago I had never even set foot here and neither had you. And now you are prepared to take men’s

lives and risk your own for it? Doesn’t that strike you as insane?’

‘It is the way of things. It has always been the way of things.’

‘But things can change. People can change. Open the gates and put down your guns. Whatever happens is meant to happen. Nothing

here is worth fighting for. And nothing here is worth dying for either.’