“Yeah, but don’t make it too obvious, okay?”
“I’ll do my best, old pal.”
With a jaunty salute, Marco headed back to his dorm. Bryan planted himself on a nearby bench and finally allowed himself to dream about the woman he was sure would change his life. But, he had no clue how it was going to happen. Why did he have to be so shy, especially around beautiful women?
Brogan was sure things couldn’t be too bad with Bryan holding her. He grinned back at her, his eyes glowing with love.
“Looks like we have a lot to talk about,” he said sheepishly.
Hand in hand they walked over to Juan and his prisoner as he roughly dragged him to his feet. Juan smiled as he saw them holding hands.
“What are we going to do with him?” Bryan asked Juan.
“Good question,” Juan replied. “Any suggestions?”
An obviously angry and indignant Kurt tried to wiggle away from Juan’s steely grip. “Let go of me, you scumbag,” He screamed, his face red and his eyes bulging. Janice kept Kurt’s own gun trained on him. Janice and Bryan immediately moved to Juan’s side to help control the prisoner. Janice had been checking T-chip pouches at the door when she saw the commotion and ran over to help. By this time, a crowd of wide-eyed, muttering spectators gathered around them. Brogan kept her wits about her and calmly turned her attention to the crowd.
“It appears someone doesn’t like what we are doing here,” Brogan said loudly after turning her throat mike back on. “This person just tried to kill me, simply because we had the audacity to disagree with a government policy. Any suggestions on what we should do with him? We can’t very well just let him go so he can tell his keepers where we are meeting and what we are doing.”
Just then, Allison walked up and whispered into Juan’s ear and Brogan saw a big grin spread across his face.
“Allison has just come up with a brilliant suggestion,” he whispered to Brogan, “It is something our council should vote on, then we can decide if we want to bring it to membership for discussion and a vote.”
He proceeded to tell her what Allison suggested. Bryan was close enough to hear what Juan said to her. Brogan turned white, but the more she considered it the more she realized it to be the perfect solution. But she didn’t know if she could do it. She looked up at Bryan, who nodded. She hesitated briefly, gathered her courage, turned and stepped up on to the platform where she spoke just moments before.
She took a deep breath and said to the group, “This individual has violated the right of our group to peaceful assembly. He has chosen to try to use violence to silence us. We will now call for a special session of the council to decide what to do with him. I need to know if you as members want a part in making the decision, or if you want it to be solely in the hands of the members of council.
“While council talks, we will give you time to consider very carefully before you answer my question. If you put it to a membership vote, you will also bear responsibility with us on whatever the decision is. Anyone who is not a member is asked to leave immediately. Council will talk first before we meet with membership. Give us about ten minutes. Members keep your masks on.”
Identifying who was a member and who wasn’t was easy. Allison had developed a way to remove and replace T-chips with a special thumb pouch. As members checked for the pouch on those staying for the member meeting, Juan moved the prisoner to a store room and spent a few minutes persuasively talking to him before council met. He locked Kurt securely in the storeroom, stationed a burly and trusted member outside the door, and joined the council.
Brogan directed council members to a side room, turned off her mike, shut the door and whipped off her mask so she saw their faces as they talked. The other four did the same thing.
“Okay,” she said after a deep breath. “What are we going to do? We can’t let him go.”
She turned to Juan. “First, Juan, did you find out anything about this guy?”
He nodded. “Bryan was right. His name is Kurt Wilhelm. I know him, but not very well. Like me, he is a part-time security guard for UTA. He is a former member of the police force. He was shot in the leg in a drug bust gone bad. That’s why the limp. He was promised $10,000 by the head of security at UTA if he found and assassinated the head of the group responsible for protests: $5,000 as a down payment with the rest payable upon completion of the job. Apparently, somebody who attended a BL meeting had a brother in the security forces and he blabbed to him when he was drunk.
“The brother told the head of security, a guy named Riley, the same twit who hired me and Kurt. Kurt claimed Riley figured all he needed to do to stop BL was to assassinate the leader and the group would disappear in fear and panic. I know for a fact he is hoping for bigger and better things in the prime minister’s forces. Looks like he hopes to use Book Liberators as his ticket.”
“Did you learn anything else, Juan?” Brogan asked.
“Only that Kurt cries a lot,” Juan said with a smirk.
Brogan wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he meant, but when Juan brought Kurt out of the store room after the council meeting, Kurt looked like he’d run into a truck. His nose appeared to be broken, he was bent over, one eye swollen shut and his limp even worse than before. She thought the last thing anyone wanted was violence, but apparently violence found them.
“Okay, guys,” she now said with a sad sigh. “What do we do now? Allison, share your suggestion with everyone, please?”
Her suggestion was met with shock and revulsion. “That’s barbaric,” was one of the comments. But was it, compared to what this person tried to do because the rebels disagreed with the empire’s policies? After a lengthy and heated debate, eventually council members agreed it was a logical and reasonable solution. They all realized their decision would move them toward all out rebellion against the empire. Brogan took a deep breath and again asked if everyone was certain. Each of them nodded solemnly. They put their masks back on and walked out to where members milled around, waiting to hear the recommendation.
Juan unlocked the store room and dragged Kurt on to the platform. He forced him to kneel in front of him, facing members, now with a gag in his mouth to curtail his non-stop cursing. Council members stood on the platform flanking Brogan. Before she told the others, what the council recommended, she asked for a vote on whether the critical decision on what to do with the security guard should be made by council or by all members.
She asked for questions. Silence filled the warehouse for a moment and then a few people started asking questions.
Responding to one member’s question, Brogan replied, “No, we can’t tell you what we recommend until you as a group decide if you want to shoulder with us responsibility for the decision. If you say ‘no’ we do not want any of you to know what we decide. If you don’t know you can’t tell anyone accidently. Apparently, the assassin slipped into our meeting because someone in the group inadvertently told someone else, who passed information on to the head of the UTA’s security division.
Murmurs of shock and anger swept through the crowd. Brogan raised her hands for silence.
“If nothing else, the incident proves we cannot afford any slip ups on secrecy. It almost cost a life tonight. What we do here is deadly serious. It is not a game. This incident clearly demonstrates we are now involved in a rebellion, not just peaceful protests.
“Council is also recommending this specific punishment become our standard way of dealing with traitors in our midst; another reason why you must be absolutely certain you want a part in the decision-making.”
The 75-plus members standing in front of the platform murmured, restless and obviously still angry at the attempted assassination.
“Your decision today must not be made from anger. It must be a thoughtful and serious decision, fully aware of the consequences to every person here, including this would-be assassin. No one will hold it against you if you decide to leave now rather than participate in voting,” she concluded.
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br /> Every member stayed put.
Brogan called for a vote by a show of hands. It was unanimous. All members attending wanted to be a part of the decision making, willing to be held responsible for any punishment council carried out.
“Okay, thank you for your willingness to join with us as we take the next irrevocable step of total commitment to our cause. Here is what council recommends: instead of killing him, as I heard some of you suggest, why don’t we simply silence him permanently? If we handle this right, BL will not only be protected, but a strong message is sent we will not be silenced.”
Members looked at each other, puzzled. After a deep, shaky breath, Brogan announced, “It is hereby recommended by Book Liberator’s Council that this man’s tongue be cut out, so he is forever silenced.”
A collective gasp and murmur of shock went through the crowd. Someone in the back of the group shouted, “It is too easy for him. He must die for what he tried to do!” There were a few murmurs of agreement.
After giving members a few minutes to discuss it among themselves, Brogan again called for quiet and said, “Now think carefully before you vote. We recommend it because he will not be able to talk, but also because we found out he cannot read or write; consequently, he cannot tell anyone in writing what happened.
“This is our first disciplinary action as an organization. It is permanent. What you decide today will forever change not only this man’s life, but your decision will move BL forward on an irrevocable step toward all out rebellion. Our decision will provide the empire with the excuse they need to continue to use violence to destroy us, should they find out we did it. Council has also decided this will become punishment for anyone who betrays BL. What say you as BL members?”
For a moment, silence and then a roar of assent from members. Kurt turned white and tried to stagger to his feet, screaming against the gag in his mouth, his eyes bulging in fear. Brogan had to steel herself; inside she too couldn’t stop her own silent screaming. Outwardly, she appeared calm. Bryan reached over and unobtrusively gave her hand a squeeze.
“We will move the prisoner to another room to execute punishment. Members you can leave now. Council will carry out your wishes.”
Now subdued, members silently went back to their homes and dorm rooms. Bryan and Juan helped the struggling man to the same room council met in for their discussion.
“Allison, will you please execute punishment and the rest of you help to hold him down, please?” Brogan asked with a shaky voice.
Allison always had her medical bag with her, so she was ready. It took all of them to hold him down, but Allison gave him a shot of morphine and an anesthetic. Kurt finally went to sleep. She numbed his tongue and the area around it and cut out his tongue. Once done, he was turned on his side to avoid choking on his own blood. Allison stitched up the wound and placed the bloody tongue in Kurt’s pocket. All council members steeled themselves to witness the punishment.
Brogan was sure she was not the only one whose stomach was heaving during the entire process. She was learning the hard way leadership required tough decisions.
Brogan looked at her watch, surprised to see it to was almost 11 pm. So much time had passed since the meeting started at 8 pm. They rolled Kurt on to a make-shift stretcher rigged from tablecloths from Joe’s restaurant. Making sure the coast was clear, they moved him by Janice’s robo-car to Lake Austin Bridge. They rolled him down the hill behind the old Marriott hotel and left him under the bridge for someone to find, making sure they took Joe’s tablecloths with them. Juan said security guards regularly checked under the bridge, looking for homeless people or hobos to transport to shelters or to jail, so it wouldn’t be long before Kurt was found.
“I am scheduled to work the midnight shift,” Juan told the council, “So I will find out how Riley handles it. Maybe why he ordered the assassination attempt.”
While the council members waited for Juan’s report, they gathered at Janice’s apartment, waiting for midnight news and carefully burning the bloody tablecloth in her trash incinerator. The shaken and somber group discussed ways for council members, especially, to keep a lower profile to protect their identities. They also discussed what should be done about the student who betrayed them when he was drunk. Juan said he’d try to find out who it was through his connections in the security office. The assassination attempt brought home to them how dangerous things were getting for all of them.
But protests were not going to be enough. They also needed to develop plans to save books they all loved and expand protests to other cities in other provinces. And that’s where Bryan and Janice’s combined genius showed itself during the discussion.
Frustrated at everything needing to be done, they could think of no comprehensive way to impact the law, until Bryan quietly spoke up.
“It seems to me we must approach this from two directions: first, we need to continue to expand the number of BL protest cells into every province and then, secondly, we need to use those cell members to secretly transport books into designated underground areas in each province. I did some preliminary research and found there are hundreds of underground caves and vaults in every province. It is going to be several years before the empire destroys every book in every home, every school, every library and every business, if that’s what they plan to do. It’s a huge task. But, if BL cells can use a snatch and grab approach with books, while at the same time distracting empire officials by causing them to react to protests, we just might make a difference.”
As they continued to discuss ideas, Janice’s expertise on caves and vaults proved invaluable. “BL members in all four provinces can work with me to move thousands of books into underground caves and hiding places, which I will identify, before the empire burns them all.”
Janice was from the California Province. Her parents moved to Austin when she was a child and they opened a Chinese restaurant. She loved to spend weekends tramping the hill country south of Austin looking for caves and odd geological formations in the limestone. She was working on the development of a survival kit of supplies to fit in a backpack for members, in case they ever found it necessary to go on the run to avoid arrest. Included in the kit were maps showing caves and other potential hiding places for books and members.
“In Austin City area alone, there are more than 750 caves. I’ll start doing some exploring and come up with some recommendations on the best ones to use, focusing on ones less known by authorities. Fortunately for us, because of the destruction of government buildings during the war, many maps showing locations of underground vaults and caves are difficult or impossible to find in provinces. I’ll also check with some of my friends at the library on best ways to safely store books in ways to prevent them from disintegration,” Janice told them.
While they waited to hear from Juan on how security forces dealt with Kurt when he was found, they discussed storage of books in various locations to distract them. It was after 3 am before Juan called while on his scheduled break.
“I was with the group of security guards who found Kurt under Lake Austin Bridge. We called Capt. Robert Riley, head of UTA security, at his home as soon as we agreed it was Kurt. I let one of the other guards talk to Capt. Riley.
“He told him we didn’t know what’s wrong with him, but he wasn’t talking, and he was groggy and covered in blood. Captain told us to take him back to the security office where he would meet us. He arrived at the office about fifteen minutes after we did. I saw him pop a couple of pills to deal with his perpetual hangover.”
Juan said he had surreptitiously used his vid-phone to record everything that happened. Bryan put his vid-phone on holo-mode and they all sat back and watched, with Juan interjecting comments periodically.
“What you are seeing is Riley’s office in the basement of the campus administrative building. You can see it has no windows and the only furniture in his office is a desk and a couple of uncomfortable chairs. His office is the same awful green as two cells across the
hall. I don’t know if you can tell, or not, but at least his walls are clean.”
“I see there are no pictures or commendations hanging on the walls. The only thing visible is a large wall safe,” Janice commented.
“Right. The walls of the holding cell across from his office, where we stashed Kurt, are like most government and law enforcement facilities, a puki pale green, splattered with unrecognizable stains, with no bars. Lasers gates are turned on across the entrance of a cell whenever there is a prisoner. Cells are normally used for unruly students until they are turned over to Austin City police if their crimes warrant it, or until they sleep off their booze or drug-induced hangovers. Contrary to what the empire says, there still is crime, especially in a city this size.
“You can see in the background a large room with four desks arranged front to front where we twiddle our thumbs and drink coffee while watching security vids, unless responding to calls in our robo-cars, or when not walking beats across campus.
“Although both Riley and Kurt served in the Marine Corp and are about the same age, only Riley has managed to stay in relatively good shape. You can see he is solid muscle; muscle only just beginning to show signs of flabbiness from his incessant drinking. But he is power hungry, and I think he wants to use the whole BL rebel thing as an opportunity to come to the attention of the prime minister and maybe get a promotion. He talks about it all the time.
“Here you see Riley standing nose to nose with Kurt, sagged between me and one other security guard trying to hold him upright. At one point, Kurt almost tipped over. We knew we’d be in big trouble if Kurt got any blood on Riley’s unwrinkled and spotless uniform of gray and orange, so we did our best to keep him upright.”
The group watched and listed as the drama played out.
“What’s wrong with you, man? Talk to me. Tell me what happened to you. Who did this to you?” Riley yelled.
Kurt only grunted. It wasn’t until Kurt raised his head and opened his mouth Riley jumped back in horror. Kurt reached into his pocket and pulled out a gory, bloody piece of meat which could only be his tongue.
The White Warrior Page 4