“Much healthier than the pictures of them online,” Zachary said, “that was a relief.”
“Rosy was so brave,” Marlina said, “all of you were, to help free them.”
I was taken aback a moment to hear her refer to Rosaline as Rosy.
“No wonder he doesn’t mind giving it away,” Keme said as he walked into the room, eyes on one of the beers in his hand, “this is some shitty beer.”
I shrugged, “we just get him whatever’s cheapest.”
He navigated through the mess in the living room, handing the second can to Rosaline before sitting on the end of the couch next to Marlina, opening the cap and putting it to his lips. I scanned across the polyamorous family, trying to determine a family dynamic. I imagined it being a pair of odd couples – Rosaline with Zachary meeting Keme and Marlina.
“Is Masaru around?” Zachary asked, looking mildly uncomfortable.
“He shouldn’t be long,” I assured him, “he’s talking to Akira.”
“Where ya movin’ to?” Keme asked.
“Akira and Masaru are moving to the Republic,” I said, “I’m staying here.”
Keme looked like he was about to pursue the topic further but decided not to.
After a moment of quiet, Marlina spoke up in her delicate voice. “I think this quinceañera is such a great idea. Those kids will have such an amazing time.”
“Marlina’s done this kinda stuff before,” Keme said after taking another sip of beer, “you were smart to get her help,” he winked.
Marlina smiled, “nothing as big as this one, though. There’s gonna be a lot of people coming.”
“Is it something you do for a living?” I asked.
“Sort of,” she said, “I’m an interior decorator.”
“So, this place must appall you,” I said, signaling to the mess of boxes.
“I don’t see messy,” she said, “I see potential.”
Keme and Rosaline laughed at this. Keme said, “nothing can get her down.”
“What do you do for a living?” I asked him.
“Construction,” he said, “been doin’ a lotta work on the east side of town.”
“Where all those new businesses are going up?”
“Yep,” he said, “we’re getting’ more contracts than we can handle. Lotta people movin’ here from the southwest.”
“Good to hear,” I said, then looked to Zachary, “how about you?”
“I work for LoC Security,” he said, “in accounting.”
“So, that’s how you two met?” I signaled to Rosaline.
“It is,” Rosy said, “I’d been with Keme and Marlina for a couple years when I met him.”
“So, did you broach the polyamorous relationship with him first, or just bring him home one day?” I asked.
Keme and Rosaline’s laughter drowned out Marlina’s soft giggle. “I was only friends with him at first,” Rosaline said, “it was Keme that suggested asking him out first.”
“I see,” I nodded, my head spinning with how fast my expectations for the family dynamic were being knocked down.
“Sorry about the wait,” Masaru said, coming into the living room, Yukiko trailing after him. He forced a smile, but I could tell that Yukiko was upset. “I’m glad you could come.”
Introductions were made again. Masaru seemed just as overwhelmed by the four-way marriage as I was, but greeted all of them politely.
“And this is your daughter?” Marlina asked, couching down to get eye level with the toddler, who seemed to be cheering up, “she’s adorable. How old?”
“She’s two,” Masaru said.
“Hi there,” Marlina said in a gentle voice, “what’s your name?”
Yukiko just stared at the woman, mouth hanging open.
“She doesn’t talk much,” I said.
“Hm,” Marlina said, reaching out. Yukiko looked around at the crowd.
“Here comes baby fever again,” Keme said.
Rosaline got a pained expression on her face at the mention of baby fever.
“All of you are planning on helping out with this quinceañera?” Masaru asked.
“I think you’d be better off if I didn’t get involved,” Keme said.
“Me too,” Rosaline said, “that’s why I brought everyone else.”
Masaru looked to Zachary, who smiled and said, “I’m definitely here to help out.”
Masaru clapped his hands once and said, “Excellent!” then looked to Marlina, who now had Yukiko giggling as she tickled her, and said, “I have lots of help now, but no idea what to do. You came recommended.”
Marlina stood up straight and said, “I hope there wasn’t too much hype, but I’m capable.”
Masaru, Zachary, and Marlina went about coming up with ideas for the party. Masaru already appeared less distracted. It didn’t take long for Rosaline to signal that she wanted to talk with me in private. I stood up and walked for the door, looking back to see that her and Keme were following. The other three paid us little attention as we stepped out onto the small front porch.
“Couldn’t listen to that much longer?” I asked.
Keme grunted, “Those two could probably go on about it all day.”
Rosy was still looking in the living room from the kitchen, eyes down at Yukiko. Keme caught me staring at his wife and gave me a look that said ‘don’t ask.’
“There’s another reason I wanted to talk,” Rosaline said, turning to look at me, “it has to do with your interest in Wichita.”
“Oh?” I said.
“That’s right,” Keme cut in, “I’m not sure what you’re all plannin’ and you don’t gotta fill me in. But I’m from around there. I know people. I thought I could be of help.”
I looked back and forth between the two of them and then said, “how so?”
“Well, the situation there is sorta strange,” Keme said, “it’s not technically part of the CSA, but they gotta big presence there. They’ve setup police forces and a buncha government positions for their own people. My cousin is on the Wichita city police force, and a lot of ‘em aren’t happy about the CSA meddlin’ in their affairs.”
“That might be helpful if you’re plannin’ to go there,” Rosy said, “the CSA would love to get their hands on you.”
“You think your cousin will help me?” I asked.
“He might,” Keme shrugged, “he couldn’t stop singin’ the praises of your Easter thing. Loved how much it embarrassed the CSA. I’m sure if whatever you’re plannin’ will embarrass ‘em again, he won’t mind gettin’ in on the action.”
“Do I have some way to contact him?” I asked.
“Unless you wanna call him, I dunno,” Keme said, “sometimes it can be tricky movin’ about in Kansas. The CSA can be hard to predict. I’ve gone back there to visit a few times. Had it where there were no problems and had it be where some CSA guy is hasslin’ me about papers and shit every fifty miles.”
“I’d imagine security is pretty high right now,” I said, “with the recent unrest.”
“Most people patrolling for the CSA are private contractors,” Rosaline said.
“Many of ‘em are ex-cops,” Keme shook his head, “as many people as there are that want the CSA outta Kansas, theres just as many that want ‘em in. That’s why the security details are so all over the place.”
“This could be helpful,” I said, looking to Rosaline, “I don’t have any solid plans yet, but I may need to hire LoC Security again.”
She smiled, “we’d be glad to help however we can.”
I looked back to Keme, “thanks for the help. If you could get me in contact with your cousin soon, that’d be great.”
“No problemo,” Keme smiled, then turned to Rosaline, “anything for my beautiful wife.”
“Save the flattery for Marlina,” she smirked, “where it’ll actually work.”
Keme looked to me, “she pretends to be immune right now, but once we’re alone…”
“I can take a hint
,” I grinned back, then looked to Rosaline, “we’ll definitely keep you informed on where we’re at, but things are still in the very early stages.”
“Sure,” she nodded to me.
I walked back into the house, mind already starting to race with the possibilities.
Chapter 22
“Looks like everything’s going pretty good,” I said, standing next to Masaru.
He smiled, looking around the parking lot full of tables and decorations. The cooperating weather – clear skies, no wind, and mild temperatures – made him even happier. After two weeks of preparation, the quinceañera was going to go perfectly.
Doctor Taylor and her daughter Deidre were busy working with Rosaline Riviera’s wife Marlina, putting finishing touches on the large dais. Along the front were five long tables to seat all the surviving girls who had been rescued, two tables on either side for all the boys. At each spot on the daises were cards, giving the name and age of each child. Along the back of the furthest row of tables stood four ten-foot-tall wooden pillars covered in flowers and ribbons, adding festivity to the decor. Round tables were setup in the parking lot, covered by umbrellas strung with ribbon. More volunteers – mostly people from LoC Security and their families – were setting up dishes, flowers, candles, and name cards for all the guests.
“It is,” Masaru said, “everyone’ss more than willing to help out. They might call the children the Masaristas, but they’re really everybody’s kids.”
“It was nice to even see Akira help out a bit,” I said, “does she seem to be getting better? I mean, as far as her depression?”
Masaru sighed, “about the same, really. But, she’s at least making an effort now. I think…I think she’s as unhappy with herself as she is with everyone else.”
“What does she think of your new place?”
“It’s difficult to get her enthusiastic about anything,” he said, “but she doesn’t hate it. In a place called New Centerville. Has a nice big yard. Fenced in. Pine forest all around. They’re installing fiber optics for our internet as we speak.”
“I’ll have to come by sometime,” I said.
“You’re always welcome,” he said.
“What are you going to do?”
“I plan on leaving in a few days,” he said, “all our stuff is packed and ready to go, but I want to wait until the fiber optics are-”
“No,” I said, “I mean, once you’re there, what are you going to do? Like, with your time?”
“Oh,” he said, “well, I’ve already got the paper work to become residents. The Republic has a very minimal government, so it’s all pretty straightforward. As far as work, I’ll probably find something part time and keep doing my podcast. I’ve already found a studio I can rent in Boise.”
“And Akira?”
He nodded, “we’ve left most of her lab here for you. For now, I’m more concerned with having her get better. We can figure out what she’ll do after that.”
I forced a smile, “good way to keep helping outside of danger?”
Masaru forced a smile too, “that’s the idea.”
Akira is going to hate it.
A few people from the media showed up by the time the guests were being seated – a job I helped out with. It was only a handful of bloggers there to get fluff pieces, following up on the story. Masaru didn’t want them there, but I convinced him it would be good for my public relations campaign. Only after some extreme vetting of the reporters did he relent.
Once everyone was seated – my spot between Laura and agent Brie from LoC Security – the DJ announced all the children. Masaru came out first with Regina, both smiling big as Masaru led her to her seat at the far end of the dais. Afterward, the DJ continued announcing the other children.
Because of the disparity of girls to boys, each boy acted as chamberlain to two girls, bringing them to their seat on the dais before sitting down at their own table. The boys wore tuxedos custom made for them. The girls were adorned in custom made quinceañera gowns donated by a large LoC taylor – greens, purples, whites, blues, and pinks – the large skirts flowing about them as the girls walked across the parking lot.
Going through all two hundred forty-four of them took almost half an hour. Some of the kids were still sickly and gaunt, dealing with the lingering effects of Shift withdrawal. Two boys had leg amputations and another with both amputated, all three limping out on crude bionics. A fourth boy had an arm amputated, slinging the bionic through the bionic arm of a girl who had both arms amputated and the arm of a girl with one leg amputated.
One triplet of kids, led slowly across the pavement by Deidre, walked out to initial muted stares. This quickly turned into a loud standing ovation. The boy leading the triplet had a malformed skull, the left side much smaller than the right, giving the right side of his head a bulging appearance. His broad, drooling smile revealed little understanding of what was happening. His arms each had two elbows, the extra joint on the forearms fused in a bent position. The girl on his right had a back that arched forward almost ninety degrees at the top of her abdomen, skin covered in hard, red growths. Her weak smile was toothless, eyes darting blindly about as she limped along. The girl on his left had only a few wispy strands of hair on her head, sunken cheeks still scarred from plastic surgery done to reconstruct her jaw bone. Exoskeleton braces wrapped around her emaciated legs, the bones bulging at the knees, both hands lined with bionic fingers over the stunted ones that failed to grow naturally.
Doctor Taylor had guessed that these sorts of deformities were probably commonplace while the traffickers experimented with different genetic modifications. Aaron Reynolds only recently confirmed this suspicion when LoC Security discovered the remains of several badly deformed children buried in the yards of a couple trafficking houses. He guessed many more remains could be found if they continued to look.
Finally, all the children were seated. The guests all stood up again, clapping vociferously for them. Some of the kids looked frightened. One girl was on the verge of tears, Masaru kneeling next to her, whispering in her ear. Others relished in the adoration, smiling and waving to the guests. The bloggers were all at their own table – absent any decorations – standing and recording. The ovation went on for almost five minutes before Masaru got everyone to quiet down, a large smile on his face.
“Thank you,” Masaru said as he stood in front of the dais, his voice projecting over a channel into people’s earpieces, “I’m glad all of you could make it. I’m so glad we can be doing this tonight.” He glanced back at the dais behind him, and then to the guests again, “these kids are just beautiful today, aren’t they?”
The crowd started clapping again, people standing up. Masaru stood, smiling back, letting them applaud for another minute before quieting them down again.
“All of us are here because these kids have touched our lives,” Masaru continued, “we’re all here because we want to celebrate the lives these kids are now free to live. That is in no small part your doing,” he scanned across all the tables. “Whether you’ve helped treat them for their illnesses, or gave up your own time to take care of them, or donated money, clothes, and toys to help them out, or pitched in for this quinceañera, or started the process of adoption, you have helped make a better life for these kids.”
The crowd applauded again, more people standing. Masaru quieted them down.
“But let’s also not forget those brave men and women who helped in the Easter Emancipation,” Masaru said, “the men and women of LoC Security, some of whom are guests here. Others you’ll see walking around on duty, continuing to diligently protect these children. And, of course, the ones who gave everything to free them,” pictures donated by the families of the deceased LoC Security agents began to cycle on the screens propped up just below the daises.
This time the applause was doubly loud, taking Masaru much longer to get everyone quiet again.
“And we’ll never overlook the courage these kids showed,” Masaru s
aid, “I don’t want to dwell on what they’ve gone through, but all of us know that it took incredible courage to get through it. So tonight, I want to celebrate their future. That’s why we’re doing a quinceañera. Not all of them are turning fifteen. Some of them are older than that, others younger. But a quinceañera is a rite of passage for girls coming into adulthood. It’s a celebration of who they’re becoming, not of what they were. So tonight, we’re celebrating what these children are becoming, and what their future holds for them. So please, join me – and them – in having a good time looking to a better future,” Masaru finished, holding up his glass in a toast.
The guests raised their glasses in toast with the loudest applause of all, people shouting out cheers for the ‘Masaristas.’ When I looked to Akira, even she had something approaching a smile on her face as she stood and clapped. Music broke out as the wait staff started bringing the kids’ dinner to them – authentic Mexican food. The applause and cheers turned into loud conversation as everyone sat back down, waiting for their food to arrive.
After dinner was finished, the children and guests took to the dance floor. Masaru and Regina did the traditional waltz, an awkward affair with Masaru’s bad leg and Regina’s small stature, but everyone watched with great affection. Many of the children had people who were in various stages of adopting them, and they took to the dance floor to do the family dance with one another.
I stayed at my table next to Laura, both of us watching as everyone joined in the festivities. She looked somewhat out of place, wearing a t-shirt and faded jeans.
“Those are your nice clothes?” I had asked before we both headed out.
“These are the only jeans I own that don’t have holes in the knees,” she had said.
Being the only one without dress clothes on didn’t seem to bother Laura at all. And manners dictated that no one point out the faux pas. So, there she sat in her jeans and t-shirt, watching people in their well-tailored dress clothes dance. But after a while, even Laura got up.
“You want to get drunk?” she asked me without using her tech to transmit to me, voice barely audible over the noise.
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