The Ruling Impulses

by Francesco Portone

  The car was hidden on the other side of the square. They moved briskly but without running. Walter Kaminsky told William to settle in the back and lower himself to be less visible from the outside. The car model did not seem recent and there was a sour smell inside, a mixture of vomit and the smell of dog. The synthetic leather upholstery was largely flayed. A vehicle that had been evidently used and abused for a long time, but perhaps it would be hard to trace - William reasoned. It would not have been surprising if he had known that it had been out of service for a while or borrowed from a scrapyard. DiFraia had planned things carefully.

  Lying on the uncomfortable seats of the car, William watched Walter Kaminsky speed through the night and had no intention of disturbing him, asking what their destination was. For the first time in who knows how long he finally felt relaxed, at peace. The tension accumulated in the last few weeks was released all at once and, thanks to the car's rocking movement, he almost fell asleep. He did not even close his eyes for thirty seconds because he remembered that the communicator was still off and he had to check if there was any message waiting. The item had been inactive for days because Militia had forbidden him to use it. They had also applied signal jammers outside his apartment to be sure of preventing its use. As expected, the object beeped several times. William waited until it finished and then examined the contents. Four messages, of which the first was by Kate Ramos who asked him if everything was okay and urged him to contact her again to talk about that thing. The other three messages all by Lucinda Merritt. Hell, how long he hadn't heard from her! For the first time since he met her, he almost forgot about her! After that magical and turbulent night, and that awakening full of uncertainties and paranoia, he had once again broken off relations with her. Their relationship seemed like Christmas tree lights: it switched on and off intermittently.

  Lucinda begged him to call her back urgently. William regretted that, after all that time, she chose just that moment to contact him, while he was fleeing towards unknown shores to save himself from tyranny. Although it was late at night he decided to reply, explaining in a vague way that in those days he was busy and he would contact her next week. When, a few seconds later, the communicator started ringing and Lucinda's name appeared on the screen, William thought that on that strange night no one seemed to want to sleep. On the first ring Walter Kaminsky turned around.

  «Who's calling you at this hour, Deveux?»

  William tried to buy time. «A friend.»

  «Don't answer! Refuse the call.»

  «Walter... it could be important», William said, deciding to press the green button. A faint voice tried to make its way through telephone cables and the ether up to William Deveux's receiver.

  «William... you're awake... what time is it?», Lucinda asked, her brain still foggy.

  «Lucinda... hi... it's late, around three o'clock. What's happened? Are you okay?»

  «Yes Bill, I... I need to talk to you... face to face.»

  «Lucinda, listen up... I can't explain now, I have to hang up. I'll call you back as soon as possible, okay?»

  «No, Bill, it's urgent», she said, coughing.

  «Lucy I'm really sorry but...»

  «Bill, I'm pregnant.»

  William Deveux learned the news of future paternity with a mixture of terror and excitement. The too many emotions of that night almost caused him to faint, with blood pressure falling down and the need to rest his head back and breathe deeply. Walter Kaminsky observed the scene from the rear-view mirror and slowed down, then parked the car close to a tree-lined area, to better hide it. He asked William if he was okay and if they could continue the journey, given that the clock was ticking. William paid no heed to his impromptu driver and repositioned the communicator to his ear. Lucinda's voice resounded from the small speaker, repeating “Bill, are you still there?” an infinite number of times. The woman knew that it would take more than a few seconds to recover from such news.

  «Yes, I'm here», he said after an endless time. «It's amazing... I don't know...»

  William paused for a moment to reflect on it. Not too much though: he had to run away, hide; there was not a moment to lose. What could he come up with? He had to think fast. In the end the most sensible solution seemed to him the only feasible too.

  «Lucinda, listen to me, please. Collect your things, only those strictly necessary, and wait for me on Mackenzie Avenue, near that hot dog stand.»

  «Hot dog? Bill but we're in the dead of night!», she replied, still half-sleepy.

  «Trust me, do as I tell you. I'll explain everything to you. Now go, okay?»

  «But...»

  «Mackenzie! Don't forget! See you in a few minutes!»

  William hung up, then finally resumed talking to Walter Kaminsky, who was still with his hands on the wheel, ready to leave again.

  «Walter, please, let's go back to Mackenzie Avenue, to that kiosk near the old Palace of Culture.»

  «What? This is totally nuts, Deveux!»

  «Listen to me, we must save my child... and his mother!»

  Walter Kaminsky's surprised look was not so different from the one William had on his face a few minutes before, yet he didn't lose his temper, he checked the time and, with a skilled maneuver, made a U-turn and started racing again.

  «Hell, no one told me you had a family!», the young man commented, complaining about the incomplete information his mentor, Delegate DiFraia, had given him. William promptly replied.

  «I don't have it, in fact. Not yet.»

  The rather linear path allowed Walter Kaminsky not to exceed the set deadline. It was essential to arrive at their destination before sunrise; before anyone could see them around and ask questions.

  When they arrived, Lucinda was ready to go. The bizarre combination of a pale pink transparent top with dark green jeans torn in several places gave the impression she dressed in a hurry, a little haphazardly, with the first things taken from the wardrobe. A wicker bag with a shoulder strap and a toothbrush firmly held in her hand completed the picture. William ran to her and hugged her hard without speaking. He took her by the hand to hasten the times, but begged her to be careful not to stumble. They both sat in the back of the vehicle and Lucinda remained silent, sensing that that was not a normal date like the many they had before. William watched her continue to hold the toothbrush. Perhaps she completely forgot she had it in her hand. After a while she noticed it and put it back in her bag. «You didn't give me time to brush my teeth», she justified herself. «I advise you not to kiss me, if you were thinking about it.» William smiled and realized he didn't remember the last time he did it. Once the ice was broken, Lucinda wanted to know what was going on.

  «Bill, did you get into trouble? Where are we going at this time of night and who's our driver?»

  «I can't give you all the details right now», William said shortly. «Our savior's name is Walter Kaminsky», he added, pointing to the militiaman. Kaminsky nodded through the rearview mirror, meeting Lucinda's eyes. Quieted down a little, the young militiaman took a chance to pay a compliment, confirming to William that it had been worthwhile going back to retrieve her. Lucinda bent her head to the side, surprised by the audacity of that young man, and then looked at William. A gust of humor spirit blew in the car, softening the tension for a few moments, then all of them were brought back to Earth, to their goal: to run and hide.

  William Deveux, in order not to keep Lucinda in suspense endlessly, told her the short version of his indictment. He talked about Minneman Company, the unfair suspicions against him and the fact that, by putting pressure on Militia, they had succeeded in making him convict for crimes never committed. Lucinda was speechless. She confessed she had never suspected he was involved in such serious issues, that it could at most be one of those matters people usually solved by paying a compensation, nothing more. At least it was what she learned from William's many assurances; but the jail? No way.

  «Mr. Deveux, if you're really innocent... I'm sorry t
hey set you up», Kaminsky stammered. «When the delegate asked me to act quickly, with no explanations... I knew right away that something was wrong.»

  «Yeah, but now we have better things on our mind, right?», William asked rhetorically, gently resting his hand on Lucinda's abdomen, almost trembling. Lucinda covered William's hand with hers, just as gently.

  «Yes, Bill», she replied worriedly, «but we need to figure out what to do... how to organize. Where will the baby be delivered? And what about my agency and my teammates?»

  «I know, I know», William hastened to cheer her up, lightly touching her lips with his fingers as if to beg her to remain silent, not to get nervous. «We'll find a way, I promise you. I don't want to be in jail when he or she's born. And, moreover, they might even come after you. No, I need to be able to move freely.»

  «We will help you!», Kaminsky interrupted them, eager to cooperate. «It's the least we could do, after the mess they put you in. You'll see, Delegate DiFraia is a powerful man, he will know what to do.»

  William and Lucinda barely nodded. It almost seemed like a previously agreed gesture when they both turned their gaze to the world outside the window, very little relieved by the young militiaman's attempt to encourage them. Twilight was near and the new day would bring the first important decisions of their new life together. The first ray of light caught them both by surprise, each of them busy mulling over the tricks of fate, which reunited them in such a paradoxical way.

  William was not paying too much attention to the route taken by the car, but it was clear that, taking Lucinda's house as a starting point, they were moving north-east. In fact, they had already crossed the Kastar river in its southern junction, maybe the goal was to go beyond the northern suburbs, once a luxuriant residential area but almost uninhabited at that time. It could indeed be a good place to hide. Surely the delegate and his aides had evaluated every detail before venturing into an escape plan.

  With the first glimmering of the dawn, the traffic flow began to intensify, so the young yet already experienced pilot pushed the old car to the limit to reach the safe haven as soon as possible. As expected by William Deveux, Kaminsky took the coast road north of the city, crossing boulevards overflowing with villas that once had been neat and charming, but then became decadent and crumbling. The flowerbeds and the gardens - which in the past were sheared and cleared daily - were irreparably infested with weeds and had an unhealthy appearance. William would have gladly lived in that neighborhood at the height of its splendor. At that moment, he would even be content with a precarious and modest accommodation, in order to save his freedom and escape injustice.

  When the last row of villas was behind them and the rough pavement gave way to dirt road, William turned back, surprised that their true destination was not what he assumed. So he rediscovered the strength and determination he had placed in his pockets to make room for the primary survival instinct and asked the militiaman where the hell they were going. He entrusted him completely, after all, yet there was no certainty so far that Kaminsky and DiFraia really intended to save him - and his woman with him. The young driver asked him to calm down, it was just a handful of miles missing, then he would explain to them how to proceed. Aware that it was too late to take any contrary decision, William lay back down on the threadbare chair and reached out his hand to Lucinda's, keeping a constant eye on the road.

  Kaminsky kept his word: after a few minutes they reached their destination. A small abandoned industrial complex all around them, perhaps previously used for processing some material. There were mostly rusty pipes, cables wrapped in huge rolls, a digger, what looked like a blast furnace and a sedimentation tank all encrusted. William breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at Lucinda to show her that everything was fine. A quick overview was enough to identify the one that, at least for a while, would become their den: a five-story building that had surely to be the administrative headquarters. The only building nearby that could house life forms of any kind. William and Walter Kaminsky exchanged glances of understanding and slowly walked towards it. Lucinda just stood there. «Is this where we're going to stay?», she said with a bit of melancholy. William went back to retrieve her. «It's temporary, you'll see. We'll soon find a normal place to stay.» He tried to comfort not only her, but himself as well. He had to be strong for her, for their baby. Kaminsky, about fifteen paces away, urged them not to delay.

  Once in the main entrance, before their eyes there appeared a huge confusion of dirty desks with their cover panels removed, chairs, stools and armchairs scattered everywhere, sheets of paper and old binders, shovels, chisels, cutters and other tools to turn over the soil or work the stone. There were only two computers, very old models that probably had never been used, given that, apparently, they seemed the best preserved things.

  «This is an old Milian Industries plant. After the revolution, most of the orders were entrusted to Evendorf and Milian fell into disgrace.»

  «Why am I not surprised?», William commented, with a grimace of disgust. Again Evendorf, partner in crime of Minneman Company and, therefore, an accomplice of Scarlet Militia.

  «Things are better on the upper floors», said Kaminsky, to change the subject, «there's more room and less confusion. Of course the elevators no longer work, we will have to climb the stairs. I had thought of putting you on the fourth floor because there is an external staircase that is still in good conditions, but at this point I don't know if it's a good idea...»

  He pointed at Lucinda. William scratched his chin and walked around a little to examine the ground floor.

  «All right, let's do this way: we'll go up to the first floor and stay there for now, then we'll decide if we should move elsewhere.»

  «Let's go up, then», agreed Kaminsky.

  After just a few steps they heard a muffled moan. Lucinda and William stepped back, but the militiaman took care to calm them.

  «He's just a guest», he clarified, putting his palms together and resting his left cheek on them. «Maybe we woke him up and he's asking us to be quiet.»

  «A homeless man?», William asked, worried that someone would know about them.

  «Yes, but you can relax, he won't cause you troubles. I've been here before and he's never seemed interested in what I was doing.»

  Lucinda gave a long sigh, then the three exchanged more glances and finally decided to go up as planned. The handrails had been ripped out - perhaps to be reused elsewhere - so they had to climb the stairs keeping themselves close to the wall to avoid falling down. As they arrived at the first floor, a rat the size of a cat, alerted by the sound of footsteps, ran in front of them and then slipped into a small hole.

  «As you can see, there's more than one guest», Kaminsky tried to defuse. «We'll find a way to fix that too.»

  The young militiaman made a quick visual scan of the room and suggested them to settle down in the corner farthest from the windows, already clear. He advised them to avoid looking out or to do it with extreme caution, especially at night, because Militia had infrared viewers and they would become easy prey. Kaminsky then took a chair with no armrests and placed it right in the corner, inviting Lucinda to sit down and wait for them there, begging her not to roam around unaccompanied. On a table there was a kind of carpenter's set square, filthy and sharp. The militiaman handed it to the woman, asking her to shake it and use it to hammer the floor if the rat returned. Lucinda put aside her troubles for a moment and reacted annoyed. She spun that unlikely weapon several times, making it swiftly glide from one hand to the other.

  «Kid, I've been a private security officer long before you first wore that uniform.»

  William Kaminsky's eyes widened and he turned to William with his mouth open.

  «She's a resourceful woman», William confirmed, in one of the rare moments of hilarity that could be allowed from then on.

  «Good!» The militiaman was both pleased and amazed. «If she can defend herself, one less worry!»

  Walter Kaminsky then
searched his bag and pulled out the laser pistol wrapped in the cloth he and his colleague Sanchez used to put on the show.

  «I'll give it to her, then», he said, smiling at William.

  William Deveux nodded, returning the smile.

  «Absolutely, I would only mess everything up!»

  Kaminsky handed her the gun and Lucinda first threw away the set square and wiped her hands on her jeans, then took the weapon from the militiaman's hands and examined it to make sure it worked properly.

  «Deveux, follow me», Kaminsky ordered. «As I mentioned before, I put things on the fourth floor in anticipation of getting you settled there. Help me carry them down.»

  The two moved with uncertainty, trying to avoid the broken or chipped steps. On the second floor they made friends with another rat, a little smaller, while to overcome the third level they had to climb over a pile of debris coming from a collapsed external wall. Kaminsky's surprised look led William to believe that the last time the militiaman was in that building the wall was still standing. «All in all, you'll be safer on the first floor», said the young man, confirming William Deveux's choice.

  DiFraia, Kaminsky and anyone else who took on the burden of helping them, they did things right. On the fourth floor, a mattress, canned supplies, used spare clothes, a first aid kit complete with painkillers and anti-fever drugs, a pot, plates and cutlery, plus a small stove for cooking, all were stored with great thoroughness. Walter Kaminsky also showed William a bottle of Sefinol and told him to keep it carefully because it would not be easy to get more. If the militiaman tried to buy more or request it from the health service he would trigger all Militia alarms. There were also bath products and William noticed towels still sealed in plastic bags. They carried the Scarlet Militia logo, so - fearing that they had been stolen - he wanted to make sure that the young militiaman did not run into danger from having swiped them from some warehouse. Kaminsky smiled and confided to him that the old and never used stuff, although perfectly intact and sterile, was burned and replaced with new models. So that stuff would be destroyed anyway. A big waste, he agreed.