Rise

by S A Shaffer

  “Good,” David said, “because for the life of me I can’t decide how I’m going to convince people to believe something they don’t even want to hear.”

  “That’s a lot easier than you might think.” Mercy said. “You stroke their pride by flattering their intelligence, fueling their emotions, and tickling their humor. Then, you convince them that there is something better, a hope they’ve never seen before.

  “But the assembly doesn’t want hope.” David said. “What they want is exactly what I want to take away. What if they reject my hope?”

  That’s really not up to you.” Mercy said. “If Alönia doesn’t want to be saved…” She gave him a knowing look.

  “Then Alönia doesn’t deserve to be saved.” David finished. “In my heart I know that, but it seems as though the people of Alönia would want to be saved if they knew everything that was going on. The representatives have lost touch with their constituents. They conceal as much as they represent. They don’t think as I do. I’ve always operated under a conviction of what is right and what is wrong. They operate on greed and self-preservation.”

  “Well, perhaps you should present your case in a manner that forces their hand.” Mercy sat on a nearby chair and bit her lip. “The thing they fear the most is losing their seat on the assembly.” She said. “If you put them into a position where that is at stake, they might put aside their prejudice and see reason.”

  “Might.” David said. “That’s exactly what concerns me. Everything hinges on their conviction of Blythe, and I have to ask myself, what if they don’t? What if they are so drunk with their lust for power that they’re willing to do business with the devil? What then? We have no contingency.”

  The issue bothered David for three straight weeks. He and Mercy wrote and rewrote dozens of speeches. They rehearsed until David’s tongue felt as though it were made of lead. On several occasions, David gathered Walker, Johnson, York, and a few others to play the assembly as he made his case before them. They commented and critiqued, though the general impression was complimentary. But something bothered David about it, an itch in the back of his mind.

  He was not the only one who slaved away in the Sixth District pillar. The facility was never quiet. As engineers worked on experimental emitters, Admiral York ran simulations on steam projectors, and Francisco commenced relentless drills and conditioning, though the bionic man was not without his games.

  Each night, he selected a team of sneaks and commandos and sent them on a raid into 20 private rooms to filch a pair of underpants without awakening any of their victims or being seen by the double watch. The next morning, they hung them in the dining common. If any of the guards or sleepers caught them, the team wore the underwear on their heads the next day as they ran a double circuit along the gutters.

  And, as if the intensity of David’s inquiry preparation wasn’t enough, the teams bore a special dislike for him, or rather his glide panther. While David’s tireless efforts left him in a deep sleep every night, Havoc and his feline senses caught the thieves in the act every time and sent them running with deep panther roars. Havoc grew larger every day, and he was now nearly the size of a hound. His dark swirling fir drank up the darkness and eluded all in the night, save Francisco himself. Nothing is more disconcerting than the sound of a deep guttural growl and not knowing from whence it comes. David wished Francisco would assign the teams to another room as he was running out of underpants, but Francisco saw Havoc as excellent training.

  Even Mercy’s room became an accidental target of a special training mission when one of the commandoes took a wrong turn in the darkness. The next morning David watched the red-haired beauty with a matching red face of fury march into the dining room, point her gas pistol at a commando’s head, and inform him that if he did not take her garments off his head and give them back that very moment, she’d shoot him between the eyes. David couldn’t help but laugh as she snatched the rosy red garments from the smiling commando and stomp from the room, pointedly looking away from David. It was one of the rare instances when she lost her proper composure. From then on, she assumed Bethany’s harsh method of using a pulse emitter on any man foolish enough to set foot in her quarters.

  Mercy, sweet, proper Mercy, became David’s taskmaster during his diligent efforts in writing his speech. Encouraging when needed and driving him during all other moments. Her work ethic rivaled his own, and her knowledge and intuition helped him craft a grand speech. Though neither would speak it aloud, however, both felt that no matter how strong the evidence, and no matter how convincing and convicting the case, whether it possessed all the arts of oration or not, the assembly would never remove Blythe. He was the source of new wealth and comfort, and the provider for their lusts, whether physical or otherwise. He’d created more than a need for himself amongst them; he’d created a social addiction. David needed something more. He needed a stronger form of leverage.

  THE INQUIRY

  David felt a trickle of cold sweat run down his back as he sat in Representative Walker’s Windward VX2. Though he’d never been in a plusher skiff, he later recalled none of its splendor, as he had also never experienced greater apprehension. He tapped his foot on the thick white carpet and drummed his ebony fingers on the matching white leather armrest. Mercy sat beside him, her fingers interlaced with his and her head resting on his shoulder. Every few minutes he heaved a great sigh, letting his breath out slowly in hopes it would calm his raging nerves. It didn’t.

  The sun shone through the windows as it slid past its zenith in its prolonged dive behind the Alönian mountains. Clouds drifted by, their white fluff tinged with golden rays. But no matter how much beauty passed by the window, David’s mind fixated on the same agonizing thought.

  Would his speech be enough? Would it be enough to convince a fickle people?

  As the sun inched lower and lower, marking the approach of their arrival and the afternoon assembly, David reminded himself over and over again that if Alönia did not want to be rescued from Blythe, then Alönia did not deserve to be rescued. He would inform them of the truth and pray they believed it, and pray he did. He pleaded with Jeshua the entire trip, not rousing until he felt the familiar bump of the skiff sliding against docking clamps.

  “Ready?” Walker asked. Everyone nodded.

  The skiff hatch opened, and Walker and Johnson stepped into Walker’s private assembly office. Johnson wore his customary fop garb and false girth. Winston walked off next, with a box of evidence under each arm, followed by Bethany carrying a curious purse full of electronics. Lastly, David and Mercy emerged, both wearing disguises, and David carrying two additional boxes of evidence. He posed as Walker’s new assistant, though anyone who knew him would see through his disguise in an instant. After considerable thought back at the sixth, David opted for a simple disguise knowing that he would have to discard it once he began the inquiry. Mercy did the same, wearing tinted contact lenses, an overcoat, and an extravagant hat to hide her distinctive hair. They gathered in the midlevel office with twenty minutes to spare before the assembly.

  As it was a midlevel office, there was no window floor, something David greatly appreciated. It reminded him of Blythe’s old Third District office, except there were several round windows along the walls and no scandalous women. His secretary was an older woman, and she smiled at them as they entered. His aide, Benjamin Wilks, looked a quiet, intelligent man, though not handsome by any account. He walked with spindly legs and had an odd way of coming up on his toes with every step. He also eyed David with a sour expression.

  “Welcome back, Representative.” He said. “Is there anything I can get you?”

  “Ha, a sedative would be nice,” Walker said, “but, no. Thank you, Mr. Wilks. We need to leave for the assembly as soon as possible, as we’ll be taking the back way. David, there, can’t be seen.”

  “Yes, representative.” Wilks said. “I’m sure that would be a terrible tragedy.”

  David thought he sounded
insincere. And, Wilks did have cause to be. David stripped his mentor of power and reduced both of them to an assembly laughingstock. It never ceased to amaze David that Walker bore him no ill will, despite all the trouble David had caused.

  Wilks opened the office door and looked down the outside corridor. He nodded to Walker, and the party exited. David kept his head down as they walked through the halls, the first of which was empty, as was the second, but as they neared the center of the assembly, the passages filled up and passersby eyed him, growing numerous enough to bump shoulders. Bethany left them there, and with a nod she disappeared into the crowd to fulfill her part. It made David feel guilty sending a dainty little thing on a mission all alone, but if anything might go wrong, she could always harangue them with her salty personality and send them away with red faces of shame.

  Walker’s office was as far away from the assembly room as an office could be, another slight from Blythe after he assumed the speakership. David realized it would have been faster to take the public entrance and wait through the security line, but he didn’t have a prayer of making it through the checkpoint without being discovered and escorted straight to the Capital City police station never to be seen again. The thought reminded him that if he didn’t succeed in his mission, he might spend the rest of a very short life in prison.

  Wilks put a hand behind his back and motioned them to stop as they approached the main foyer. David faced the wall and stacked his evidence boxes on top of each other, pretending to look through folders inside the top one. Walker stepped up to Wilks and leaned forward in a mock-serious conversation. David overheard Walker whisper to Wilks, “If Blythe approaches us, start apologizing.”

  A moment later, Wilks said, “I’m very sorry, Representative, it’s completely my fault.”

  “Wilks,” Walker said, putting his head in his hand. “Of all the days to forget, it had to be today. What am I going to do with you?”

  “Representative,” Blythe said, placing unusual emphasis on the title. “You shouldn’t berate your aide. He might be your last friend in the assembly.”

  “Not now, Speaker Blythe.” Walker said. “I haven’t the time.”

  Blythe smiled in his handsome way. “Temper, temper. This wouldn’t be something regarding the motion you intend to make today. I saw a notice on the docket. Are you sure you don’t need any help? Me and the lad could search that box much faster together.”

  “I’m upset for my own reasons.” Walker said between gritted teeth. “It’s none of your business.”

  Blythe laughed. “But it will be my business in a very short while,” he said as he stepped closer, “When I veto it. Though I might not even have a chance to do so if nobody seconds your motion.”

  Blythe put his hands in his pockets and walked away with a smile on his face. David realized while he’d been listening, he squeezed the box lid so hard his fingers punched holes in the top. He replaced the lid and leaned against the box with a sigh. He looked around Wilks and Walker and saw the crowded foyer. Anyone of them might recognize him. Bending, he lifted the boxes in front of him, and the stacked boxes completely covered his face. However, the stacked boxes also prevented him from seeing where he walked. The party started out across the foyer toward the entrance to the Assembly. David tried his best to follow in the footsteps of the others, but an enthusiastic assistant cut in front of him, and he knocked her to the ground.

  “How rude!” she said, and David shifted the boxes to see what had happened. The girl climbed to her feet and straightened her dress.

  “Terribly sorry.” David said. “I can’t see very well.”

  “Clearly!” The girl said before she turned and marched off with a huff.

  David felt slender fingers wrap around his arm and pull him forward. Mercy leaned her head against his shoulder as she guided him through the rest of the Foyer.

  “What is it with you.” She asked. “You’re always knocking little girls down in this Foyer.”

  David smiled, the memory of how he and Mercy first met warmed his nervous bones.

  Finally, they entered the assembly and worked their way up the stairs along the side of the egg-shaped room to the Sixth District booth, where the other witnesses had already gathered. Only after finding a secluded bench in the back where a shadow would conceal his face did David finally put his boxes down. Mercy joined him there and gave a nervous shrug. The crowd of representatives and aids slowly meandered around the auditorium until everyone had found a seat. Blythe took his place at the central dais with Eric Himpton sitting behind him. Blythe waited till the steam projector puffed out his commanding form, then he spoke.

  “Welcome, representatives, to the 8th assembly of the 3242nd cycle.” Blythe said. “I see on the docket that we might be entertained by a motion from Representative Walker.” The room echoed with laughter. “It’s probably best to save that motion for last.” Blythe said as he scratched his jaw followed by more chuckles from the audience. “Let’s start with Representative Arnold.”

  David sat through six agonizing motions from six Equalist representatives, all of them requesting financial assistance for various social programs. All passed. It looked dark by the time the Equalists had finished their motions, endless black filling the glass top and bottom of the assembly. However, before Walker had a chance to make his motion, Blythe looked as though he were going to end the assembly without letting him.

  Walker rolled his eyes, stood, and keyed his motion.

  “Oh, yes!” Blythe said. “I almost forgot. George Walker wishes to speak with us.”

  Walker nodded and shouldered the humiliation with good-humored dignity. He leaned forward and spoke into his microphone.

  “Honored Representatives—”

  “Denied.” Blythe said, interrupting him.

  The rest of the auditorium laughed louder than David had ever heard. The laugh broke into applause as they ratified Blythe’s decision. It was some time before the people calmed down enough for Walker to begin again.”

  “Honored Representatives—”

  “I’m joking with you, Walker.” Blythe said, interrupting him again. “Go ahead, you can make your motion. I promise I will listen to the whole thing before denying it.”

  A few snorts this time, but Walker only smiled.

  “Thank you, Mr. Speaker.” Walker said. “My motion is simple. I wish to ask this assembly to launch an inquiry into Speaker Blythe.”

  The sound that followed was as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. Mouths fell open followed by a few gasps, a couple of snickers, and then the general din of conversation. Blythe looked mildly amused.

  “Alright, Walker.” Blythe said. “Rather than listening to some drawn out and well-rehearsed accusation, let me first ask if there is anyone else willing to place their political career on the line to second this motion. If not, we might all be able to go to dinner early.”

  A significant pause hung in the air, one Blythe seemed more than willing to let draw out. David watched several of the few remaining pragmatics turn their heads away, unwilling to risk their careers for such a serious and probably fruitless motion. Then, someone stood and everyone in the room gasped. Even Blythe looked taken aback.

  Representative Harold, the same representative Mercy used to work for, raised his hand and said, “I second.”

  What followed was an interesting spectacle, a confrontation between new and old Equalists. Herald was the more senior and for many cycles, the leader of the Equalist party. Blythe was the charismatic savior, the rising star, and the face of the new Equalist party. Both had power, and the members of the assembly were hard pressed which side to choose.

  David smiled as he saw events unfold as a result of careful planning. Earlier that week, Mercy paid a visit to her old boss. He had always liked her, never actually realizing that she was a spy, and seeing her alive and well brought joy to his heart. Mercy explained that she faked her death in order to avoid being Blythe’s next victim. At first
he disbelieved her, but the longer she explained the more he questioned Blythe’s character. With her prodding, she orchestrated a meeting between Herald and the parents of Samantha Samille, which included her powerful admiral father, a constituent and contributor of Herald’s campaign. Herald had no choice but to accept the meeting, not knowing that earlier that week, Johnson had also met with Samille’s parents, having met her father during several political events.

  Ms. Samille’s parents were not difficult to convince of Blythe’s villainy, as they already hated him for making their daughter into something worse than a courtesan. Believing him to be her murderer was a small step. Johnson had but to make the accusation, and they believed it wholeheartedly. With their prompting and Mercy’s coaxing, Herald agreed to second the motion and hear the evidence before a formal inquiry. In truth, David wondered if a large part of Harold’s acquiescence rested in the fact that he still harbored resentment that Blythe stole his speakership. That same suspicion had once prompted David to spy on Herald and seeing Herald turn on Blythe only reinforced the thought.

  “I have a constituent involved in this inquiry,” Herald said almost apologetically. “And I see no harm in hearing the evidence. If it is fruitless, my constituents can at least have closure.”

  Blythe didn’t look happy, but he nodded, none the less, to his fellow Equalist. “Let us put it to a vote then.” He said. “Assembly rules require a sixty-percent majority to go forward with an inquiry.”

  The steam projector formed into the number 2, then clouded as more votes registered. David found himself praying again, hoping they would reach the 46-vote threshold. The number thirty-eight materialized and his heart sank, but then the projection clouded again. Apparently, interest had gripped a few more representatives, and they decided to cast their vote out of pure curiosity. The number forty-four formed, and David held his breath. The moment stretched out, and his face turned red from oxygen debt. Blythe opened his mouth to speak, but the projection clouded one last time and resolved into the number forty-seven. Blythe rolled his eyes, and David resisted the urge to jump into the air and whoop as he did so many seasons earlier. The auditorium buzzed with excitement, both for and against the inquiry.