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A beautiful female angel, the angel of the waters, as she was called. She blessed the cool water with one hand, and with the other, she held a lily. This flower symbolized purity, which the angel was also supposed to transfer to New York's water. I was surprised this bronze statue had not been torn down since an artist, a woman, created it.
Impatiently, Chris pushed me the last bit to the back of the fountain and then sat down on its edge, sighing. Looking over the lake, I settled down next to him. Behind us, the water lapped, and in front of us, the lake stretched. It would be difficult for any spies to intercept us here, mainly since the place was still deserted and any arrivals would catch our eye.
"Chris, what's wrong?" I asked breathlessly. I had had to suppress this question for too long.
My brother looked at me uncertainly. He was struggling with himself. Pushing would do a little good with Chris. So, I had to be patient to determine what worried my father and him.
He ran both hands through his face, loosened the collar of his priestly robe, and sighed again, his gaze directed almost pleadingly toward heaven. Sometimes, I forgot what his profession was. Perhaps this happened unconsciously because I wanted to suppress this fact. The Knights of the Seals had always claimed to act on behalf of the Bible and thus in the name of God. This statement had greatly shaken my faith in any God, and in the beginning, I had many arguments with Chris about why he wanted to continue working for the church. For a God who had let this befall us.
But then, my brother had always said people needed him the most right now, in this challenging time, and that God had nothing to do with people's actions. God had given us the freedom of our own will and our own decisions. A consequencewas accordingly also the fact that God did not interfere in our choices, because for what to grant this freedom to someone to take it away again in case of a wrong decision?
Chris loved working with people. He was not an old-fashioned priest but was known for his timely sermons, and his office hours were always wholly booked.
"Myrina, Father has asked me to discuss something significant with you," my brother suddenly whispered, taking my hand in his caringly. He looked briefly at the floor, almost as if he were finding the following words he wanted to say there. Then he looked me in the eyes again. This time, it was firm and determined.
"You know Dad is still in contact with all corners of the world and any population strata through his ports. Ports have long since become not only transshipment points for goods but now also for news. Do you understand that?" he asked.
"You mean the news that isn't in the newspapers? News that would have spread over the Internet or the TV in the past?" I puzzled my thoughts together.
"Exactly. Now that the Internet and television have been banned after the Knights of the Seals took over, they had to fall back on ways of disseminating news they had used before the digital age. Which seafaring plays a big role here," Chris explained.
"What news did Dad pick up there?" I asked impatiently.
"From all over the world, we get reports of young women in their twenties and thirties disappearing without a trace. Here in New York, too," Chris said without beating about the bush this time.
Only slowly did the message filter through to me. I was in my mid-twenties, so I fell right into that group. That was what my brother and father were so afraid of. The same thing could happen to me, that I would be kidnapped or maybeeven murdered. Was I surprised that such a fate could befall young women? No. Not at all. But on what grounds? That was a question whose answer interested me burning. Why did the Brotherhood first make the women submissive and even had them executed for this purpose to abduct them on the other hand? What were they hiding? Why didn't they bring these incidents to the public to frighten the female sex even more and thus gain a more accessible game in their tactics of oppression?
"Do we know why they disappear? We both know only too well who is responsible for this," I said more calmly than expected.
"You are right. One suspect is the Knights of the Seals, but we can not say for sure. Above all, the why is a great mystery. Since information about new cases usually arrives very late and incompletely through detours, we have not yet been able to establish a pattern. The only similarities seem to be gender and age," my brother replied sullenly.
"We? You and Dad?" I asked, bright-eyed.
Dismayed, my brother shook his head. "No, we have joined forces with a group of men from different corners of the world."
"What?" I exclaimed far too loudly and had to restrain myself from jumping up. "What?" I repeated more quietly this time. "You have allied yourselves with unknown people? Why? That's so reckless! You know no one can be trusted anymore. Anyone could be a spy and want to trap you!"
"We know that, Myrina," my brother growled indignantly. "But we have no other choice! Don't you understand that? We have no choice because we don't know if and when you might be next. There are several thousand girls around the world missing every day. And we are afraid for you, for your life!"
Tears came to my brother's eyes, and with one stroke, I became aware of the danger I was in. But even worse was thethought that my family had also put themselves in the line of fire because of me.
Furtively, Chris wiped his wet eyelashes. A hug would be too conspicuous, so I squeezed his hand, and he smiled sheepishly at me. Chris was one of my brothers who had cried quickly as a child.
"What can we do to get you and me out of the danger zone?" I asked firmly.
Chris looked at me in surprise.
"You don't have to worry about us. We've got everything well in hand," he assured me, and I acknowledged that statement with a roll of my eyes.
"Yeah, right. That's why we're sitting here by a fountain discussing this matter while the water is lapping, so no one can overhear us," I grumbled.
Chris, however, completely ignored this ironic statement on my part and continued unperturbed. "We have a plan. We will infiltrate the underworld of New York to get more information from there. Hopefully, we'll find some clues that way. As for you, Father has decided you should resume your self-defense training and add targeted attack techniques."
"You want me to do what?" I groaned in amazement. "How exactly did you imagine that? Am I supposed to train in a dress in front of Stephen's nose, drawing the attention of the Knights of the Seals directly to me?" My irony caused an annoyed, steep crease on my brother's forehead.
He narrowed his eyes. "That's not funny at all, Myrina!" he scolded.
"No, it certainly isn't. But your plan is just laughable," I hissed back.
