Hadrian's Rage

by Patricia-Marie Budd

  “Young Hunter came to me with a brilliant idea.” Actually, Frank Hunter has been coming to the general with this idea for over two years, but it wasn’t until Colonel Guillaume de la Chappelle’s last report that the general finally agreed to listen to the young man. Seeing a look of consternation on Devon’s face, the general explains, “Don’t be offended. He is not under your immediate charge, and I have made it clear to all the other officers that Private Recruit Hunter has free rein when it comes to bringing his ideas forth to me directly” (something he only recently agreed to, once again under the persuasion of de la Chappelle). “I will not waste Hunter’s time with red tape and bureaucracy.” The level of respect Frank has garnered from his superior officers stuns Devon. “Now, I was reluctant at first, but he has explained his reasoning quite well, and I am willing to give his idea a shot.”

  “And what idea is that, sir?”

  “Live skirmishes using blank ammunition. He spoke of something called paint balls that will reveal when a person is injured or killed; some war game they used to play in the twentieth century. Said he’d read about it and thought it would be a great way to train new recruits. Sounds fascinating, really.”

  “But that would mean we’d have to base some soldiers outside the Wall?”

  “Exactly! As Frank explained it to me, we never think like the enemy because we are always on the defensive.”

  “Well, we’re not going to go out there and attack them. They’re the ones always coming to attack us.”

  “Yes, yes, yes.” The general is annoyed that Devon is not following his, actually Frank’s, logic. “But we do not anticipate their moves because we never think like they do.” Forgetting now what Frank had said, the general blinks up a cheat sheet to read off. “We never consider what their attacks might be like except based on what previous attacks have been. This is why our soldiers are stymied when an outside gang comes at us with brand new tactics. We must be able to respond to the unknown as quickly and as effectively as we respond to what we have come to expect from them.” Having finished reading Frank’s words, the general looks up momentarily to question Devon. “Are you following me now?”

  “Yes, sir,” Devon replies without complete certainty.

  “So, we are going to have live skirmishes, two platoons pitted up against each other, with one platoon on the offensive whilst the other must repel it.” General Birtwistle claps his hands together as if all is complete. “Now, you are to seek out Private Recruit Hunter and begin planning the first of these live skirmishes immediately. You are to report back to me as soon as the two of you are finished detailing the plans.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now you can stand,” the general orders. Devon obeys, stands to, and salutes his senior officer. “You are dismissed.” With that said, Devon might as well have disappeared since the general dismisses him from his immediate attention; his eye blinks closed his notes on Frank’s War Games scenario and blinks up an old report about the last attack against the Midwest Gate.

  *****

  A turbulent explosion of energy forms a tight ball of hot ice inside Devon’s stomach. He will not just be accidentally bumping into Frank; for at least two weeks, he will be working with him side-by-side. The tension is too much to bear, so Devon seeks Frank out, not to discuss their joint assignment, but to ask Frank whether he would prefer it if he were to ask for a transfer.

  Devon finds Frank on one of his runs. Knowing he could never catch up with the man, Devon takes the local tram ahead one stop; this way, he can easily fall in line with Frank’s pace. As a result of the run, Devon keeps his sentences short. “We have to work together.”

  “I know,” Frank replies. “It was my idea.”

  Devon considers this for a moment and wonders whether Frank set this up intentionally. “Maybe I should transfer.” When Frank doesn’t respond, Devon persists, “What do you think?”

  “Why do you want to leave?” Although subtle, Frank’s demeanor suggests disappointment.

  Devon is beginning to lag behind, so Frank slows his pace to accommodate him. This is something new. Devon is even more confused by Frank’s body language than he is by his words. “I just thought I might be making your life uncomfortable, being, we, you know—and our connection to—and now we have to work together—and, well, anyway, if you would prefer it, I could—”

  Frank stops running. Devon can’t help but run past him a few paces before stopping himself. Suddenly, Frank reaches out and grabs Devon’s arm, pulling him in for a kiss. When he finally releases Devon’s lips, all he can say is, “Don’t go.”

  Devon is stunned. It takes him a moment to regain his senses. “Okay—I won’t.”

  The two men lock eyes—it is as if they have turned into one. Suddenly, Devon blurts out, “I want you.” Three simple words, but poignant and strong enough to reach inside and touch the man Frank desperately tries to hide.

  In response, Frank reaches for Devon’s hand and whispers, “Come with me.” Devon is taken aback when Frank leads him into the Historic Museum, through the displays of old northern Manitoba life, into more recent history explaining the purchase and transformation of northern Manitoba into Hadrian and, finally, into a small back room that just happens to be the library museum.

  “Why are we here?” Devon asks, clearly baffled by this sudden turn of events.

  The shy smile Frank reserves solely for Devon appears. “This is my sanctuary. This is where I come to read.”

  “Read?” Suddenly, the general’s words are beginning to make sense. If an old library filled with dusty book has becomes Frank’s sanctuary, then he doesn’t just read; he must luxuriate in every word.

  Suddenly, Frank lights up with excitement. “Yeah, the old fashioned way with a book in my hands, flipping pages instead of blinking to scroll. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, the world around me vanishes, and my mind is drawn into the illusion created by these lines. I don’t see words anymore; I—I see people, I see places, I hear conversations. I become the character, thinking and feeling and speaking.” As he speaks, Frank’s fingers softly caress the spines of books lined up like soldiers at attention on the shelf. He stops at one particularly large book, War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. He pulls the heavy book off the shelf. Showing it to Devon, he exclaims, “It’s absolutely brilliant. Nineteenth century warfare, but also love and complications in relationships and the whole social structure of society. Really, it’s not very different from what we have here in Hadrian except for the obvious sexual orientation of the characters. That aside and, well, we’re all alike; you know what I mean?”

  Devon smiles as he places a hand on Frank’s chest, feeling the man’s heartbeat. “Here is your soul.” So touched by Frank’s essence, Devon pulls his face down and kisses him longingly. Frank embraces Devon, devouring his kiss, and then suddenly, he pushes him away. “No,” he mutters. “Not here.”

  “Not here?” Devon is miffed at this rejection. “Why? Is this place so sanctimonious—Antinous’s tomb or something?”

  “No.” Frank embraces Devon to appease him. Almost embarrassed now by what he has to say, Frank stutters slightly, “It’s just that in here, everywhere, except my quarters, they got vids on me 24-7. My room or yours, but never anywhere public. They’re always watching me.”

  Devon pulls back. Looking up, he sees tears in Frank’s eyes. So this is how General Birtwistle knew that he and Frank were intimate. “My place then,” he whispers into Frank’s ear. Then spinning on his heels and looking up at the ceiling, speaking to no one in particular, Devon winks, “Show’s over boys and girls.”

  *****

  Once in Devon’s quarters, the two men undress. At first, nothing happens. Frank merely spoons Devon, and then very gently, without warning, Frank begins to penetrate his lover. Once immersed, Frank begins to pulse his penis in time with Devon’s heartbeat. The pulsing, coupled now with Frank gently caressing his penis, causes Devon to moan in delight. This slow passiona
te lovemaking is such that all Devon can do is lie there and allow Frank complete control. Listening to Frank’s gentle whisper, “Relax into it, baby,” Devon allows his whole body to go limp. The intensity of Frank’s motions brings on an orgasm so powerful that Devon cries upon climax. Lying enfolded in Frank’s arms, Devon feels the safest he has ever felt his entire life. Then Frank pierces Devon to the quick. “Devon,” he whispers, “I think I’m falling in love with you.” Devon swallows hard. He tries to control his body’s immediate reaction to clench, but Frank feels the tightness anyway. Frank appears to take it all in stride, as if Devon’s reaction is natural and expected. “You don’t have to respond, Devon. I don’t expect anything—just—maybe, from time to time, come sleep with me?”

  “I—” no thought goes into the response, “—of course I will.” And he does, every night. Often not even to make love, just to lie there next to Frank, feeling his body breathe, feeling his heart pulse and wondering whether he could ever learn to love this man.

  *****

  35 http://www.asafeworldforwomen.org/global-news/

  africa/nigeria/3520-teen-girls-invent-urine-powered-generator.html

  Hadrian’s Real News

  The Exile of Angel and Grace

  HRN—Melissa Eagleton Reporting

  Earlier today, Danny Duggin shared with you the contents of the survival kit being granted to the exiled women, Angel Higgins and Grace Godoy. This is the first time in Hadrian’s history that an individual being exiled has been given any sort of provisions to aid in her journey away from Hadrian. This is due to the high sentiment of sympathy being expressed for these two young women, regardless of the fact that they committed a heinous act of murder.

  Many of Hadrian’s citizens have answered my query as to whether or not this exile is warranted. And though many do see justice in the verdict handed down summarily by the defense, prosecution, and Judge Julia Reznikoff, some have responded with great vehemence against the court’s decision. Zamira Lazami, for example, commented that the lack of a trial indicates a serious fault in Hadrian’s justice system. Deidre Smith even went so far as to claim, “Angel and Grace did for Hadrian what should have been the justice system’s job!” On the other hand, Walid Samra feels the justice systems works fine and that these girls, “having both confessed to the murder of Tara Fowler with both a witness statement and DNA evidence renders their verdict fair and impartial.” He goes on to say that their situation in no way resembles that of Frank Hunter. “Frank Hunter was helping end his friend and lover’s misery, whereas these women were the cause of Tara Fowler’s pain and suffering.” runa Gulovna also agrees with the verdict. According to runa, Angel Higgins and Grace Godoy’s crime should be viewed as a wanton act of hate since they murdered the victim because of her sexual orientation. Finally, Jannack Mauritius stated, “Although I do not agree with Tara Fowler’s choice to be heterosexual, her sexual preference in no way condones acts of violence that include rape and murder.”

  To Danny Duggin and his followers, runa’s recognition of this crime as one motivated by hate is the deciding factor. Even if Hadrian had Hate Crime Laws, Angel and Grace would not have been tried under them. Sadly, Hadrian’s Laws do not identify attacks against heterosexuals as acts of hate. And, yet, that their action was motivated by hate is evident. Also, Mr. Duggin, on the one occasion you mentioned the victim, you did not identify her as the victim, nor did you refer to her by her name. You simply called her “that strai.” Well, Mr. Duggin, that strai had a name. Her name was Tara May Fowler. She was twenty-three years old, studying education, history, and philosophy at Augustus University. She leaves behind a younger brother and two loving mothers. Her family grieves her loss. So, rather than feel sorry for the ones who murdered this girl, believe that justice has been done. Two murderers have been exiled, and tomorrow we shall watch them walk through the Midwest Gate of Hadrian’s Wall, carrying with them what no other exiled individual has ever received before, a survival kit complete with six weeks’ rations.

  TRUTH!

  The Day of Exile

  At the Midwest Gate, Private Frank Hunter is the sniper on duty in the main tower. Before climbing the three flights of stairs, he is informed by General Birtwistle that he is to shoot to kill if one or both girls should try to run back to the gate. “They know they are not allowed back in and know their fate if they try.” Then pointing to his forehead, he adds, “Right between the eyes, Frank; make it quick and painless.”

  “Yes, sir,” is Frank’s response. He was anticipating this order since Devon warned him of his impending duty the first night they made—what, love or war?

  At the ready, Frank waits for all the formality of the exile to end. First, they must read out the charges laid against the women, present them with their survival kits—this is the first Frank heard of the exiles getting survival kits—allow for the press to do their thing, and then watch as the gate is opened and the two women are ushered outside the Wall and left to their own defenses. Even three stories above in Watch Tower 1, Frank imagines he can hear wailing and moaning from below. It won’t be long now, he muses. The sound of the gate reaches his ears, and Frank peers through his scope to wait for the two girls to walk into his sight. It takes a few minutes, long enough for Frank’s mind to flood with memories.

  Although this is his first exile, the reason for the banishment is too close to home for Frank. These girls had raped and killed a heterosexual. “Todd, forgive me,” Frank whispers. But Frank knows it is not Todd’s forgiveness he needs; it is his own, and that is something Frank ardently refuses himself. Suddenly, Frank’s mind goes cold. All the tension his memories created in his body is gone. In the stillness of the moment, he watches the two women slowly make their way towards the tree line. As they draw near, one of the girls stops. This is it, Frank thinks. She’s going to turn back. And she does. He watches her mouth; she is shouting out something, probably “Mama” or “Papa.” Frank has no idea who this girl is or what gender her parents might be, nor does he care. He simply has a job to do. He gives her one second to turn back, but she bursts into a run instead. Frank fires. A direct hit; right between the eyes, as ordered. The girl drops to the ground. Frank lifts his gun to bring the other woman into sight. He watches her drop to her knees. She appears to scream. Her face is torn by grief and horror. Maybe now you know how the murdered girl’s family feels. This thought brings back the unwanted memories, and Frank wonders whether or not Todd’s Papa Mike felt bereaved when he learned of his son’s death. Not sure what this other woman might do, Frank decides to give her a warning. He shoots at the dirt in front of her, shaking her out of her current state of misery. She stares up at the tower. Still not moving, Frank fires another shot just a little closer this time. Dirt from the ground shoots up at her face. She winces. She stands quickly, turns her back on Hadrian, and begins running with all her might towards the safety of the tree line.

  *****

  BOOK 4

  NEW BEGINNINGS

  Hadrian’s Real News

  The Need for New Beginnings

  HRN—Melissa Eagleton Reporting

  As the title of today’s news report states, we are in desperate need for a new beginning, Hadrian. What our country has gone through in the past few years is akin to a seismic quake breaking the Richter magnitude scale. We have witnessed violence and murder resulting from hate. How have we managed to acquire so much bile while simultaneously convincing ourselves that we are a peaceful, loving nation that is working together to build a brave new world? Stop kidding yourself, Hadrian. You are no different than the fanatical Christians, Muslims, and Jews who berated, belittled, abused, mutilated, and yes, even murdered, and are still murdering, our lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered, and intersex siblings across the globe. No brave new world, no loving, peaceful people beats up a couple or berates and threatens them for walking arm-in-arm down the street. No peaceful, loving people beats a child to death for walking and talking “strai.” No peaceful, loving
people abandons their children and leaves them to fend for themselves in our cities’ sewers. No peaceful, loving people turns a blind eye as these children are forced to work the sex trade for bits of food and pieces of clothing. No peaceful, loving people demands a transgendered woman prove she is male before providing her and her date service because they look straight. No peaceful, loving people gets a woman drunk in order to rape and murder her. No peaceful, loving people then touts those murderers as heroes of the people. In every possible sense, what we are doing to the straight, bisexual, and transgendered people in our community is wrong. I join Mother Stuttgart, one of our founding mothers, in reaching out to each of you, asking you to be a part of the movement that desires enlightenment, acceptance, and understanding. Hadrian, we need to embrace all of humanity as our founding families originally wanted us to.

  Regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity, we all agree on the most critical of Hadrian’s principles: maintaining a stable human population and reclaiming the natural resources of our planet earth. To this end, we can, if all are willing to set aside disparaging differences, work together.

  TRUTH!

  Dean’s Speech

  “Honored Madame President Stiles, quadrant officials, peace officers, key city council members, and fellow citizens, I stand before you today to express my fears and concerns for the majority of Hadrian’s citizens. As many of you are aware, I am bisexual. This, in and of itself, is not deemed alarming or unacceptable in our culture as the vast majority of Hadrian accepts the idea that at least 80 percent of our population is somewhere between a 2 and a 5 on the Kinsey scale. What is deemed unacceptable, however, is for any of this vast majority ever to act upon their opposite sex attractions. That places any bisexual who falls in love with someone of the opposite sex in a very awkward and unfortunate position. This also includes our transgendered brothers and sisters. There are some, like my friend’s girlfriend, who are afraid to transition into the bodies they would feel more comfortable in. My friend’s girlfriend, for example, fears that the medical procedure required to provide her with her desired female body will exclude her from being able to be with the man she loves. People say that is foolish; we know she will be sterile and that transgendered women are free to date, make love to, and even register with a man—but are they really? Once the transition is complete, only those who know her from before her transition will treat her and her lover with acceptance. The vast majority of Hadrian’s citizens, on the other hand, ignorant of her past, only see the lovers as heterosexual, and as a result, will attack them with verbal and/or physical abuse. One such case was that of Nadia Tornovoi and her registered mate Ichik Wongsuwon. As many of us know, Nadia was brutally beaten by a mob when the couple was seen walking arm-in-arm along Lesbos Boulevard in the city of Sappho.36 This event occurred only a few years ago during the debates leading up to the legalization of heterosexuality. Even though we claim to accept our transgender citizens, clearly any transgendered woman who falls in love with a man is at risk. No doubt the same can be said for a transgendered man who falls in love with a woman.