The Raintree Rebellion

by Janet Mcnaughton

  Kayko laughs. “Of course there is, silly. Japan is famous for its poetry. People all over the world write haiku.”

  My cheeks burn with shame. My knowledge of poetry comes mainly from the bibliotechs in the work camp. I must seem completely ignorant to these people.

  “Kayko, try not to overwhelm your new friend,” Kenji says. A hint of caution in his voice shows he’s noticed my embarrassment.

  And Kayko responds, making her voice more gentle. “I’m glad you like poetry, Blake. I’ve never had a friend who was serious about literature.” This kindness soothes away my awkwardness. “Eat lunch with me,” she adds. “It will fortify us for the afternoon ahead.” She’s herself again, cheerful and adventurous.

  “If Erica doesn’t need me,” I say.

  “The Council is meeting informally over lunch. Erica will find out when she checks her office memos,” Kenji says. “We won’t require our aides, so you’re free.”

  “I know just where to go,” Kayko says. “I’ll come for you at noon.”

  I’m smiling again as I enter our offices. Erica looks up from the network console. “Blake, I won’t be able to eat lunch with you today. Will you be all right on your own?”

  “Kenji Miyazaki told me. I’ll be fine,” I say, and I tell her about Kayko’s plan.

  “Oh, that’s good,” she says, but she frowns. “What’s wrong?”

  “Maybe nothing. It’s just that, well, the Miyazakis are very wealthy people. Kayko has always lived an easy life, to say the least. I can’t imagine anyone less like you. This work is going to be tedious and sometimes downright unpleasant. She might not be up to it.”

  “You think she’ll get bored and quit?”

  “Exactly. If you get attached to her, well, she might let you down.”

  I want to argue, but I don’t know Kayko well enough to defend her yet. She might be frivolous. “Maybe you’re wrong,” I say without conviction.

  Erica softens. “I hope so. Let’s try to get organized.”

  I sit at my network console and begin sorting files from the Transitional Council. Maybe I should take Erica’s warning to heart, but I can’t. Kayko makes me happy. I’d have to work hard to be cautious of her, and I’m just not willing to do that.

  I can hardly believe it’s noon when I look up and see Kayko standing in the doorway.

  “Let’s go,” she says. “We’ll have to be quick to get back before the afternoon meetings start.” Two beefy men follow us out of the legislature building. Kayko doesn’t seem to notice them. “You don’t mind walking, do you? I could have ordered a car, but it’s just a few blocks and there’s no parking over there anyway.”

  “A car?”

  She points to a passing vehicle. “What do you call that?”

  “A vehicle, of course.”

  She smiles. “That is so quaint. That must be because technology was so disrupted in Terra Nova during the Dark Times. I did a whole course on the Dark Times once.”

  “At school?” I ask.

  She looks embarrassed. “With a tutor, actually. My parents didn’t send me to school.”

  We’ve been walking for blocks now, and the men who left Queen’s Park when we did are still behind us. “Kayko,” I say, “I think those men are following us.”

  “They are. Just ignore them.” She sighs. “They’re my bodyguards. I’m not allowed out without them. Actually, I’m surprised the Transitional Council didn’t assign you a bodyguard.”

  I laugh. “I’m not important enough.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m sure that’s not true. It must be an oversight.”

  “Well, I’m glad. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable being followed all the time.”

  “I understand. I’ve had bodyguards all my life, and I still wish I didn’t.” Kayko navigates the busy streets, talking all the while. “I can’t believe this is finally happening. It took forever to put the Justice Council together,” she says.

  “Do you know the other Council members?”

  “Erica is the only one I’ve met so far, other than Uncle Kenji, I mean. But I know who they are and a bit about their backgrounds. And I think I know their positions.”

  “Their positions?”

  “You know, where they stand on forgiveness and retribution. Or, at least, where they’re likely to stand. That’s what makes this so interesting. Nobody knows exactly what the Justice Council is going to do. Punish or pardon? We’ve been talking about it for months.”

  “You and your uncle, you mean?” I ask. I’m startled to discover I’m not the only one thinking about punishment. I never imagined anyone talking openly about it.

  “My parents, too. Some families follow sports. In our family, it’s politics. We’re so excited to think that democracy may be restored. Oh, here we are. I reserved a table so we won’t have to wait. I don’t want to miss anything this afternoon.” Kayko leads me into a beautiful room, everything decorated in red and gold. Thick carpets muffle conversation at dozens of tables. Servers, men and women, move through the room with carts.

  Kayko’s arrival causes an agreeable flutter. We are quickly whisked to a quiet comer and a server approaches. Kayko points to little bamboo baskets which are placed on the table for us. Not enough to make a meal. “Try these,” she says, “cha shu bao—steamed buns filled with barbequed pork. You do eat meat, don’t you? I forgot to ask.”

  I hope we’re going to have more to eat, but I can’t think of a polite way to say so. “I eat anything.”

  Kayko laughs as if I’ve made a joke, not realizing how true this has been in my life. “Well, this is dim sum. It’s a very old Chinese style of food. You just choose what you want off the carts. Everything is little treats, but we won’t eat the chicken feet.”

  “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

  “Not about the chicken feet.”

  The men who followed us here are gone. “Kayko, where did the bodyguards go?”

  “To an observation booth. This place is completely wired. If anything unusual happens, they’ll be here in seconds. It’s nicer than having them hover around, don’t you think?”

  I silently agree. As we eat, I’m glad for Erica’s lessons with chopsticks. I’m not as out of place as I would have been a few days ago. I start to relax and enjoy myself. The food is strange but delicious, and Kayko seems delighted to show me each new delicacy. Then I recall what she said when we were walking. “Do you really know how everyone on the Justice Council is likely to think?”

  Kayko nods. “There are three other Council members. Monique Gaudet from Quebec. She is an important social theorist who fled to Haiti during the technocaust. Now she’s back in Montreal. She’s mostly likely to side with Uncle Ken and Erica. Her aide is Griffin Stockwood. I’m not sure how they’re connected.” She frowns. “I hate not knowing things like that.

  “Then there’s Daniel Massey from British Columbia. He made his fortune designing navigational technology for the Northwest Passage. What happened out there in the technocaust was particularly bad, so he’s likely to be interested in revenge. His aide is Astral Robertson. I read that Daniel Massey is an old friend of Astral’s family.”

  “Her name is Astral?”

  “No, his name is Astral.” We both giggle, then Kayko looks more sober. “It’s a Truth Seeker name. I suppose I understand why he’d be good for this work. The Truth Seekers managed to stay clear of the technocaust. They didn’t try to stop it, but they didn’t involve themselves either, they just sat around in their divining parlours, trying to communicate with the spirits of the dead.” Her tone is scornful. “They are not known for intellectual rigour. Our Astral is probably going to be a bit of a bubblehead.” She gives me a wicked smile.

  “The final Council member is Paulo de Lucas, who comes all the way from Cuba. Cuba has a longer tradition of democracy than any other part of North America, dating all the way back to the twenty-first century. They even managed to keep their parliament going through the environmental dis
asters and the Dark Times. We’re not sure if that will make him moderate, or if he’s more likely to be outraged by what happened here. The Cubans have their own history with dictatorship, long ago, and that may colour his feelings.” The bubbleheaded butterfly is gone. This Kayko is deadly serious and full of information. I wish Erica could see her now.

  “And his aide?”

  “His aide is his only child, Luisa. She’s seventeen. Last year, she eloped with the son of their driver. Their security people tracked the couple down and the marriage was annulled.”

  I’m astonished. “How do you know all that?”

  Kayko shrugs. “It was an international scandal, all over the HD tabloids. The family is very prominent. Paulo de Lucas has been a senator, and his wife sits on the supreme court. I’m sure the de Lucases want Luisa to assume a leadership role in her country. Working for the Justice Council here would help those ambitions. Plus, she’s far away from the unsuitable lover.”

  I try to imagine behaving so impulsively. I can’t. I’m the sort of person who always wants my emotions to be tightly reined. I’m curious to meet Luisa.

  “Which leaves my uncle and Erica,” Kayko continues, drawing me back to the present. “Uncle Kenji’s whole philosophy of life is about balance and moderation. He’s not likely to suggest anything that would upset anyone, and he’ll work toward compromise and consensus, you know, getting everyone to agree. He’s very interested in healing the rifts of the past.” She pauses to take a bite of a custard tart. “Now, Erica Townsend isn’t exactly a moderate. She’s always been passionate in her political life, a dedicated member of the resistance during the technocaust and after.” It’s strange to hear Kayko talk about Erica as if she were a stranger, but what she says is true. “She was a major force in the Uprising in Terra Nova. She and her husband worked to ensure that democracy was restored peacefully and relatively quickly, and that’s what we need here, so she’s a natural.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve been wondering for months why Erica was chosen for this Council. Is that why? What you just said?”

  “Oh, there are dozens of good reasons. Her grasp of history, her experience as a leader. But maybe the most important thing, my parents said, is the fact that she suffered in the technocaust.”

  This surprises me. “Really? Why?”

  “We have prisons full of people who were important in the government before the Uprising. Most of them had been in power since the technocaust. If someone like Uncle Ken calls for forgiveness, it’s easy to dismiss him. No one in our family suffered. If someone like Erica asks, though, people will be forced to listen.”

  Forgiveness. Kayko just assumes I agree with Erica about it. Erica does too. “So that’s why Erica was chosen, even though she was directly involved?” I ask.

  Kayko smiles. “Exactly. And she and my uncle are what you’d call natural allies. Which is great, because otherwise you and I could never be friends.”

  The pot sticker I’ve just picked up stops halfway to my mouth. “What did you say?”

  “If Erica didn’t think the way my uncle does, I’d have to avoid you.”

  I’m glad Kayko is talking about Erica and not me. If she asked me directly, I couldn’t lie. I’d have to tell her how I feel about the people who caused the technocaust. I put the pot sticker down. “Is that why you like me? Because we’re on the same side?” I feel oddly empty.

  Kayko laughs. “Of course not. I like you because you’re bright and interesting. If you were boring, I’d still be nice, but I wouldn’t want you for a friend.” She changes the subject without taking a breath. “Look at the time. We’ll have to hurry to get back before the afternoon session starts.” Kayko flies from the table, stopping long enough to have our meal placed on her parents’ account. I can only follow, wondering how I’ll manage to keep up with her, in every way imaginable.

  7

  Will this new Justice Council resolve the tensions in our society? Or will we lapse into chaos once again?

  —Editorial comment, The Solar Flare, September 3, 2370

  “Goodness, Blake, I was getting ready to leave without you.”

  I feel the sting of disapproval in Erica’s voice but I know it’s really not aimed at me. I wish I could tell her Kayko is more than she seems, but I only have time to scoop up my scribe on the way out the door. Erica’s anger is like a cloud passing over the sun on a windy day, though. It’s gone almost before you feel it. So, when we meet the Miyazakis in the hall, she smiles at Kayko and falls into conversation with Kenji. Kayko and I follow behind.

  “Give me your address,” Kayko whispers, “so we can message while the meeting is on.”

  I know Erica would disapprove but I don’t want to draw her attention, so I quickly whisper the address to Kayko.

  The meeting room is right out of the distant past, with wood panelling, a high ceiling, and a bank of huge windows on one wall. It’s a much larger room than we need. The Council members sit at a heavy wooden table, and we aides take our places in a second ring of chairs behind them. Kayko sits behind her uncle, opposite me. A chair at the head of the table is empty.

  I quickly glance around. It’s easy to figure out who the other Council members are from Kayko’s descriptions. The man beside us with a girl sitting behind him must be Paulo de Lucas. Both have the same dark eyes. I was expecting Luisa to look remarkable, passionate, and beautiful I suppose, or tragic. Instead, she has an open, pleasant face. I want to know how anyone could be so impulsive, but her appearance gives no clue.

  Across the table, beside Kenji Miyazaki, is Monique Gaudet, an elegant woman, small but slender, dressed in a carefully tailored grey microfibre suit. Her blond hair is cut in an elaborate geometric pattern. An older man across the table with curly grey hair must be Daniel Massey. That leaves the two male aides. There’s a slight, blond man in his early twenties sitting behind Monique Gaudet. His fair hair is already thinning. He looks serious and scholarly and I suppose he must be Griffin Stockwood.

  I’ve already formed a picture of Astral Robertson because of Kayko’s description. He should be young and inattentive, someone who will constantly forget everything he’s just heard. But the aide behind Daniel Massey looks nothing like this. He is older than the other aides, in his late twenties. He’s tall enough to drape over his chair with a studied casualness. A shock of dark hair falls over one eye. He radiates concentration. He must sense my stare, because he looks directly at me and raises one eyebrow in a silent question, as if to challenge my foolish preconceptions about him. His eyes are ice-blue, searching, and intelligent. I force myself to hold his gaze and give him a weak smile, totally unnerved. This is Astral Robertson?

  “We’re just waiting for Dr. Siegel, head of the Transitional Council, to arrive,” Kenji Miyazaki says. “His staff has been trying to get answers to some questions that arose over lunch. I believe some of us have not met yet. We should go around the table and introduce ourselves while we’re waiting.”

  Monique Gaudet introduces Griffin Stockwood as “one of my most promising students at the New Sorbonne in Port-au-Prince.” In response to her praise, Griffin looks at us all with such trust and enthusiasm that I like him immediately. Kayko smiles with satisfaction as she is finally able to understand the connection between Monique and her aide. But Daniel Massey is a man of few words, it seems, introducing the man behind him simply as “my aide, Astral Robertson.” An older, balding man enters the room and quietly takes his place at the head of the table, nodding to indicate we should continue without interruption.

  When Paulo de Lucas introduces his daughter, his pride is evident. In response, Luisa smiles at him. If there was strife between them, it seems long past.

  Erica refers to herself only as “a historian whose life was changed forever by the maelstrom of the technocaust.” She says nothing about her role in the resistance. I notice several people at the table smile at her modesty. I am afraid she wi
ll embarrass me by talking about my life, but her introduction is brief. “Blake’s story is complex,” she ends. “I’m sure you’ll learn more as you work with her.”

  Which leaves Kenji Miyazaki. “I am a potter, originally from Toronto, but living in Winnipeg for more than twenty years and active in the Potters’ Guild. My aide is my niece Kayko, who hopes to become a journalist. And now, as Dr. Seigel has joined us, perhaps we can begin.” He continues without pausing. “Over lunch, we all agreed that this society will never be ready to move ahead until we can address the horrors of the technocaust.” A look of frustration passes over his face. “Beyond that, we’ve hit a stone wall, it seems. There is no consensus on what should happen to those who caused the technocaust. Should they be tried for crimes against humanity? Should they be charged with crimes against the individuals who suffered at their hands? Should they be required to make a full confession of their wrongdoings? Will victims be allowed to sue individuals for compensation, or will the state make reparation? Today, we only know that we are very far from consensus. In light of this, we have decided to start by gathering some information.”

  Dr. Siegel frowns. “We had hoped you would begin actual hearings as quickly as possible,” he begins, but Erica interrupts him.

  “Dr. Siegel, my colleague may have understated the depth of this rift. During lunch today, we came close to deciding it would be impossible for this group to reach any kind of consensus, ever. We need time to see if we can, in fact, function as a working council.”

  Dr. Siegel blanches. “Surely your divisions can’t be that serious.”

  “I’m afraid they are,” Daniel Massey says.

  Monique Gaudet smiles. “At least we agree on something.”

  For people who can barely work together, they seem very civil.

  “Very well, then,” Dr. Siegel says. “And you’ve proposed to begin in the East End Detention Centre?”

  “Yes. We want to start by taking statements from those who were important in the technocaust,” Kenji Miyazaki says. “That is why we asked you to contact the prison officials. When we’ve heard from them—”