by Drew Avera
I could relate, but his anger was misplaced. If anything, he had only himself to blame for the situation.
“Sir—” Khari began before I cut him off.
“Do you have any idea what you two have done besides targeting a member of the World Council?” I seethed. All of them stood there like stiff boards. “I let you loose on a city, allowing you to commit various forms of mayhem, and instead of staying in your lanes, you pick a woman part of an organization that can see each one of us crushed if they find out you work for me. Do you mind explaining what went through your pea-sized brains to make you think this was acceptable?” My voice rose to the point of shouting and it made me happy to know my office was soundproof.
“She was there, and we knew we could collect off of her, boss,” Ocar said. He had his blond hair pulled back in a ponytail as if that would do anything to disguise his appearance.
“Boss?” I glared at Anail, his superior, who failed to match my gaze. I grabbed the gloves from my desk drawer and slipped them on nonchalantly as my stare bored into Ocar with hate and vitriol.
“Uh, Councilman Troth,” the man corrected himself, but it was too late. I already felt my face reddening before I took the first step and lunged at him, my hands extended towards his throat. In the time it took for a single breath, my fingers wrapped tightly around him, and my thumbs pressed on his larynx with enough force that I could feel it collapsing.
Three sets of eyes watched me as I choked the life out of the insubordinate piece of garbage who traipsed into my office and disrespected me to my face. The man struggled, but he was too weak to effectively fight back.
“I don’t tolerate scum. I won’t have a member of my circle step out of bounds and disobey my orders. I will not abide anarchy and let it destroy the plans I have to control this city.” I let Ocar’s lifeless body drop as I cut my eyes at Anail. “If one more of your men gets out of control again, you’ll be buried next to them. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Councilman Troth,” he replied, swallowing hard after getting the words out.
“Get out of my office and take the trash with you,” I spat as I pulled off the gloves and slapped them onto the floor. “I’ll call you if I need you. Otherwise, don’t return until you hear from Khari. Now, go.”
I turned and stalked back to my desk as the thugs under my employ gathered the body and hauled him out. I was thankful I was not at my official office. Otherwise, two men carrying a body out might draw undue attention. The criminal underground knew well enough to keep their eyes to themselves, though. At least I knew that no one could touch me here. it put my mind at ease, though not by much.
“Khari,” I said before he followed the men out.
“Yes, sir?”
“Send a card and some flowers to Akran with a note for me.”
“What do you want the note to say, sir?”
“Write, ‘I wish you a speedy recovery. Let me know if you need anything at all. I’m thinking of you. Micah.’”
“I’m on it, sir.”
Khari stepped out of my office and I noticed the screen still showed the report on the assault of a member of the World Council. I read the captioning at the bottom of the screen where the contributor said there would be ramifications for such an attack.
I scoffed as I fell back into my seat.
“You’re right about that,” I said under my breath. “And I’m only getting started.”
Five
Akran Tyrel
My home felt like a prison.
After twelve hours of observation I was released with a clean bill of health, but just because my physical body was void of life-threatening injuries, it didn’t mean my mind was a well-fortified for what I had endured. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the men who attacked me. I could smell them if I let myself go to that dark place in my mind. I recalled everything leading up to that first hit the blond man laid on me. Sometimes, I winced at just the thought of it, the taste of metal in my mouth just as real as it was last night.
I just wanted to feel normal again, as if the attack never took place. But that was a fool’s way of thinking. I needed to remember it to fuel my resolve in the future. It needed to be the driving force behind my renewed efforts to clean up Outer Downtime.
But as I looked out of the window at the empty street, I felt the threat of another attack looming if I was to step out of the front door and into the open district. The feeling washed away any intestinal fortitude I could muster. Fear destroyed my confidence and it was a sensation I didn’t recall having until last night.
Growing up in Archea came with certain privileges. Equality was the norm, with the social divisions of the past being buried in the sands of time. The only reminders of that past were the headstones on the antique graves which marked that terrible time. At least that was my perspective as a youth. As an adult, though, I realized equality was subjective, and when you realized this, it made life all the more unfair.
Last night was a reminder of that truth. I was targeted because there is no such thing as equality lest the world descend into anarchy, and then the cycle would simply repeat itself ad nauseum. I would not be held captive by that perspective, though. I had a life to live and a dream to achieve. To hell with broken society.
“You’re thinking out loud again,” Roslyn said, startling me as I had not heard him enter.
I turned and looked at him questioningly. “What?”
He smirked as he stepped towards me. He was so tall he had to duck his head a little to miss the archway separating the dining room from the living room. “You were just mumbling something about “broken society” or some such rhetoric as I walked in. I have super-ears, remember?” He pointed to his hearing aid with his index finger before brushing a tuft of hair out of his eyes. I would have been annoyed at the fact he called me out for talking to myself had he not said exactly what I was thinking. Still, it was a little more than unsettling to not be able to converse out loud with my own thoughts without his prying ears; super-hearing or not.
Roslyn was young when a series of explosions near the old Archean Library brought the antiquated building to the ground. The sound reverberated halfway across the city as it bounced off the dome and sent echoes out like ripples on water. I remembered hearing it myself from our home across the city, but Roslyn lived next door in a tiny apartment. His parents were at work when it happened, and he used to tell me about how afraid he was to go from hearing to absolute silence. Often times, he described pain. Other times he simply spoke on the eerie sense of isolation he felt, like drowning in a pool of water. In either version of the story, there was but one conclusion, his life changed drastically.
Actually, a lot of lives changed that day.
“I guess I was just thinking about how those men targeted me because of my position in the World Council. They didn’t see me as one of them. They saw me as the enemy,” I said.
“That’s because you’re not one of them, Akran. You’re a member of the ruling class. Even I look at you differently and we’re practically best friends behind closed doors.” He placed his hands on his hips dramatically as he smiled a toothy grin. He was such a character all the time. That was one of several reasons I loved him and confided in him on most things. Roslyn was someone I could trust. He reminded me of someone else, though as it turned out, was much different than I once thought.
That and he would say the things I needed to hear; not always what I wanted to hear.
“Still, I was terrified last night. I thought they were going to kill me.” I touched my side where the largest bruise was nearly the size of a basketball. I couldn’t remember the impact that caused it, but the doctor thought it had to be the result of several kicks to my side once I was on the ground.
The more I thought about it, there were only brief moments, just glimpses of the attack I could recall. The beginning was etched deep into my memory at the sudden realization that those men meant me harm. After that, every memory was just a taste of a mom
ent. A kick here, a punch there, yet no bullet wound when I could have sworn the blond-headed man pulled a gun on me.
The next solid memory I recalled was crawling on my hands and knees to the police precinct. I didn’t recall making the decision to do so, but I found my way there and some off-duty policemen assisted me from there.
It was more of a blur after that, though I did remember calling Halem at the first opportunity. Of course, he didn’t answer…yet again.
“I know you were scared. Anyone would be in that situation. But I’ll be here for you and whatever you need me to do. All you have to do is point and I’ll do it.” Roslyn stood behind me as he looked out the window over my shoulder. A part of me wished he was interested in women, even though a relationship for members of the World Council was out of the question. Still, having someone who understood me, and that I could depend on for certain desires would have been nice.
It was as if I learned nothing from my past mistakes.
My thoughts went back to Halem. For the briefest of stints, I thought we would have been together forever, despite the law. Once our relationship was threatened to be exposed, he dropped me faster than a hot plate. I would be a liar if I said I didn’t feel betrayed by him. I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope for a reconciliation as well because I would do anything for that man and knowing that fact made me feel that much more of a fool.
“I just think I want to stay home today and maybe try to go outside tomorrow. I’m not feeling brave enough right now.”
Roslyn placed a friendly hand on my shoulder, his smile reflecting back at me. “You demonstrate bravery despite your fear, Akran. That’s the mark of true courage.”
Maybe he does tell me what I want to hear sometimes, I thought with a grin. It was worth it, though. I patted his hand with mine and turned to look him in the eye. Two blue orbs beamed back at me as a grin stretched across his face. It was his tell, the wiseass could never keep a straight face.
“Now you’re just teasing me,” I said with a light jab to his ribs. I didn’t have the energy for anything more, nor did he deserve it. He was just trying to help me feel better, even if he did want to joke at my expense.
“Guilty,” he spat, snorting when he laughed.
I couldn’t be mad. He just wanted to take my fear and anxiety away. He wanted to comfort me. It was a beautiful gesture coming from a place that was as close to love as I have received in a long time.
Roslyn looked out for me in more ways than I could say about some people.
That was a truth I had a hard time swallowing.
Six
Halem
I stepped out into the atrium to a swarm of journalist. Eight of them fought for superiority as they shouted questions at the front of my impromptu press conference before I even made my opening remark. I did my best to ignore the bombardment of voices while the rest of them fell back, finding the best angle for them to record my answers to their near-limitless questions. I had no doubt in my mind that before this charade was through, one of them would try pinning the cause of Councilwoman Tyrel’s assault on the legislation we passed. The fact people broke laws always seemed to be the result of other laws put in place to oppress them.
At least that was the media’s narrative of the day.
The more things change, I thought as I reflected on my time as a policeman. My fingers tapped against my leg. It was a nervous twitch I carried with me through my childhood when it came to public speaking. I had come a long way since then.
“Pontiff Halem,” my secretary, Jannah, said, grabbing my attention before I stepped to up the podium. I turned to her and she leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Agent Pollux just stepped off the sub-rail in Clenist. He wanted you to know he will visit Councilwoman Tyrel before carrying out his assignment.”
“Thank you,” I said, patting her on the arm before turning back to the gathered crowd with their microphones on posts like severed heads on stakes. It was fitting considering how dissension fed into the calls to overthrow the World Council over the past several years. My taking the position as Pontiff was the calm before the storm. Once the truth was revealed to the people, mistrust grew proportionate to the betrayal the then World Council committed against them.
It seemed forgiveness was a barrier to moving forward. Then again, there was no drama to manipulate society without first watering the seed of revolution. It would go nowhere, but the heads of the rising cause didn’t want revolt, they just wanted to hinder the World Council to the point of ineffectiveness. The people would “decide” from there what to do, but by then it wouldn’t be their choice.
The World Council was the only hope for the future of Mars.
I tapped the microphone on my podium with a finger and heard the light thud through my earpiece. Loud and clear, I thought before clearing my throat to speak.
“Good afternoon,” I said as a hush blanketed the gathering of journalists. “I’m sure everyone has heard the news about Councilwoman Akran Tyrel being assaulted last night on her way home. In recent months crime has escalated in Clenist. The city that rivals Archea in beauty also rivals us with an out of control spree of criminal activity which can only be traced to a growing ring which has yet to reveal itself. Make no mistake, this activity, and the assault on the councilwoman, is part of a planned agenda to bring down the flourishing society expected to grow in Clenist before it has the chance to take root.
“I spent my morning discussing plans to secure Clenist before my arrival. The infrastructure there is crippled by a growing population which lacks the necessary resources to keep up. The power grid failure further pulls the governing body in one direction as it loses its grip on something else. My plan is to move Archean resources to Clenist within days to help restore order. This will be a temporary displacement of some of our resources, but a necessary step at righting the course Clenist is doomed to take if we do nothing.
“I’m pleased to say that Councilwoman Tyrel is in good spirits and has everything she needs to recover and move forward with her responsibilities as soon as she is able. Thank you. I am happy to answer any questions at this time.”
I stepped back from the podium and immediately the media clamored to be the first to ask a question. Two voices shouted obscenities, but I ignored them. Instead, I pointed to a more reserved journalist.
“Thank you, Pontiff Scrimpshire. Many people feel that the recent law passed regarding the funding of Clenist’s post-construction phase forced many out of work. The bill rejected the use of rehires for non-union workers and appears to be an attempt to further perpetuate economic inequality. Some would say the rising crime rate in Clenist is a result of such legislation. What do you say to that?”
I lost my breath for a moment. I knew that question was coming, but I expected a few congenial ones regarding Akran’s condition before having to jump on the “blame legislation” grenade.
“You pose a good question, Ms. Trost. I wish there was a simple answer to help bring light to the situation. The legislation was designed to re-hire workers in order to maintain a minimum level of employees to maintain the numerous systems operating in Clenist. There is a policy in place that only allows the government to hire unionized workers for insurance purposes. We have to frame our legislation to fall in line with our laws. There is a Basic Assistance available to those out of work. The program is not ideal but is meant to alleviate the burden of not having work until such employment can be found.”
I scanned the room for the next question and pointed an open hand to another journalist in the back.
“Pontiff Scrimpshire, there are reports linking you and Councilwoman Tyrel in a fraternizing relationship before she moved to Clenist.”
“Unsubstantiated,” I said, interrupting him.
“Be that as it may, the timing posed many questions for the people. It is curious that the face of the World Council, and the representative of the people, would send others in his place when one of their own was attacked. Does the cold s
houlder have anything to do with the perceived relations between you and the councilwoman?”
I took a deep breath and couldn’t believe what I had stepped into. The day started off on the wrong foot and kept getting worse. How did this turn into a circus before me? I remembered thinking Cherum made a fool of himself at these press conferences. Now I knew why. The questions came out of leftfield relentlessly and there was hardly any opportunity to prepare for them.
“Look, you’re trying to piece an old report to a modern event. There is no correlation. I have responsibilities that cannot be dropped to travel away from Archea at the drop of a hat. I do have a scheduled business trip in the coming weeks. I do plan to visit Councilwoman Tyrel and express my condolences for what happened and also to help with the plans to prevent this from happening again. Speaking of tight schedules, I must get back to mine. Thank you, I will take no further questions.”
I walked away to an uproar. The media was told I would answer more questions, but I didn’t have the stomach to keep up the charade and bite my tongue at the personal attacks and jabs at the job we were doing. It was easy to judge from a position of not knowing the responsibilities carried by those legislating Mars into the future. I remembered thinking the same way before marrying Marada and her serving in the World Council.
Now, I spent more time thinking I had bitten off more than I could chew having this position. I knew some members of the World Council felt I took on more responsibility owed to me by my position, but all I wanted was to correct the wrongs of the Syndicate and restore the government as it should be. Whether others in the council were tied to the Syndicate, or not, they all wanted a puppet whereas I wanted to have the authority my station deserved; and was recognized as having by the people. Perhaps that was where the lack of support from other members came from, their resentment of me. Unfortunately for them, I wasn’t easily swayed.