by Hannah Ross
Priscilla turned to give Ben one last frustrated, but by no means contrite look as she said, "I'll be in touch."
If her aunt heard, she did nothing to show it. She kept moving forward with the determination of a stampeding rhino, marching Priscilla along, and in a few minutes they were in the car.
* * *
Once they arrived home and proceeded to the living room, Priscilla threw herself upon the sofa, her arms and legs crossed so tightly they seemed likely to seize up. Daphne chose to sit in the armchair opposite, and for a few moments, the two silently glared at each other until she said, "I expected better of you, Prissy."
"Well, I'm really sorry," Priscilla replied in tones that dripped acid. "Extremely sorry for being such a disappointment to all the Dahls and Van Wullens, and for deserting the noble principles I've been brought up on, to be as rich as possible, and to think as little as possible about those less fortunate."
"You are twisting it all up." Her aunt clicked her tongue as her patience grew thin. "Promoting social justice is one thing. But all this antagonism toward your family, and sneaking to meet this wildling opportunist..."
"Ben is not an opportunist!"
"Now, you listen to me, young lady," Aunt Daphne waggled a fat, perfectly manicured finger. "I've lived in this world about four times longer than you have, and I know how things work. You are ready to throw yourself away because of some stupid whim, and it is my duty to stand in your way. You are sixteen years old."
"I'm going to be seventeen soon."
"Sixteen years old, and when you asked to live with me rather than in Silver Oaks, I promised your mother that I would keep a close eye on you. I've become a little lax lately, I admit. After all, we had an agreement."
"We had no agreement! You bullied me into saying things I didn't mean, and I had to go along with it so that I wouldn't be forced to live at Silver Oaks again."
"Listen, Prissy." Her tone softened. "If I'm being harsh about this, it's because I know that in a year or two, you will be cured of this foolishness, and will sorely regret doing anything irrevocable to compromise your future, all for the sake of a—"
Priscilla's eyes blazed. "I don't care what you think," she said with forced calm that gave her aunt pause. "In a little more than a year, you will not be able to tell me what to do anymore. And when I'm twenty-one, I will have my own money, and can set myself up wherever I like, in the Boundary or outside it. And there won't be a single thing you can do about it!"
"Prissy, I'm sure that when you calm down a little, and see it all in a rational light—"
"And besides, this is all your fault, you know."
"My fault?" Daphne was nearly speechless with indignation.
"If you and the rest of the Van Wullens had opposed my father, instead of tacitly agreeing with him, if you had put your foot down, and said that nobody was going to be sent out to freeze or starve if you can help it, nobody would have lived across the Boundary, and I might never have met Ben at all."
Having said that, Priscilla stood and marched upstairs, leaving her aunt silently seething.
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The afternoon was fading fast, and Ben, none too cheerful following the morning's scene with Priscilla's aunt, was roused from his musings by Tom touching his shoulder.
"Come on. Kate says it's time to go."
Ben rose from his seat by the window and put on his jacket. The others were ready, and Kate was twiddling the strap of her bag and tapping her foot. "What's taking you so long? The car's waiting for us."
Once the clunky old elevator carried them downstairs, Ben saw a spacious black car, polished to a bright sheen. He and his friends climbed into the back seat, while Kate settled next to the driver, a taciturn fellow who didn't say a thing to acknowledge their presence, but merely started the engine the moment they were seated and drove off.
"Kind of lucky Tony didn't come, huh?" Tom said in an undertone, elbowing Ben in the ribs. "There wouldn't have been room for him."
Ben mumbled, "He wasn't supposed to come. Kate is the contact."
Though the meeting they were heading to was the work of many months and much planning, right now its importance was pushed to the back of his mind. His thoughts still dwelt on Priscilla. She's going to be under pressure now. Will she stay true to all we promised to each other? Is it selfish of me to even expect it of her? She's stubborn and knows her own mind, but in terms of the Boundary, she's still a kid. What could be more natural than for her to go along with what her family wants? He sighed. I guess all I can do is wait and hope.
He hardly felt the motion of the car. The roads inside the Boundary were smooth, and the wheels rolled along like they were on velvet. After some time driving straight to the east, the car stopped for a moment, a gate was opened, and gravel crunched beneath the wheels. Looking out of the window, Ben realized they were in a Country Island estate. It was by no means as large and impressive as Silver Oaks, but still one that belonged to someone rich and influential.
Once within the property, the gate shut behind them. Soon the car stopped, they stepped out, and were ushered up the front stairs and through a heavy, bronze-studded, dark wood door.
A young woman with the look of a secretary welcomed them into the spacious, spotlessly clean hall. Ben saw her eyes slightly widen with shock at the sight of the visitors. Evidently a band of ragamuffins like us has never set foot here before.
No sooner did he finish the thought than a deep, booming voice from a back room called out, "Lucy, don't keep them waiting!" and they were led to a richly paneled library with a neat little fire blazing in the grate. The lights were pleasantly soft, so much so that it felt like semidarkness after the bright fluorescent bulbs of the hall, and a few moments passed before Ben could fully take in the scene.
There were several comfortable-looking armchairs and swivel chairs in the room, but only three were currently occupied. One, the lushest and softest, was the seat of a broad, imposing man with thick salt and pepper hair that was brushed back. Next to him was a pale, wispy, anemic-looking fellow with round eyeglasses. The third person was their acquaintance Peter Hughes, who sprang from his chair and was shaking hands with an affable greeting before any of the others had time to acknowledge the newcomers' presence by more than a look.
"I'm glad the driver was punctual," he said. "It wouldn't do to be late."
The man with the greying hair waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing of significance. I'm not in a hurry. Don't have anything planned for tonight but this meeting."
The three men looked so neat and well-groomed, with their crisp suits and ties and neatly shaved chins, that Ben was very aware of the shabbiness of his own group. None of them thought to change from their usual faded jeans and well-worn shirts, some frayed at the cuffs, some missing buttons. His own buckskin jacket was cured by some homespun tanners. He traded for the comfortable garment at the Ravens' camp and considered it a lucky acquisition, but now he wished he had changed into something more conventionally respectable, like his sister, who was wearing black slacks and a burgundy turtleneck.
"Let's sit down and be comfortable," said the older man, who was clearly master of the place. He did not look at all taken aback by the unconventional appearance of his visitors as he examined them. "I told Lucy to bring tea. It should be here any second. Peter, why don't you make the introductions?"
"Certainly." He turned to Ben and his fellows with some solemnity. "Everyone, this is General Richard Evans."
"General E!" Kate exclaimed. "So it is you!" She fell into an embarrassed silence almost instantly, but the general gave her an affable smile.
"Mrs. Evans only calls me that when she is displeased, but I see nothing wrong in the abbreviation."
Peter cleared his throat and gestured toward the anemic-looking fellow, "And this is Senator Paul Newson, who is President Connor's right hand."
"You exaggerate, Mr. Hughes," the senator protested, albeit without
any great vehemence.
"Not at all, Senator. We both know how much effort and guidance you put into Connor's election campaign."
"General, Senator, this is Kate Hurst, a Class A Boundary citizen. And these are Benjamin Grey, Shauna Waters, Thomas White, and James Stone, all of the Eagles Camp outside the Boundary."
The introductions were cut off by the arrival of Lucy with a tray bearing a teapot, a coffeepot, cups, saucers, an elegant sugar bowl, a little jug of cream, and a dish with lemon slices. She was followed by a girl in a housemaid's uniform, carrying an even larger tray that was almost completely hidden by an abundance of tiny sandwiches, muffins, buttered toast, scones, biscuits, and rolls.
General Evans eyed the heavily loaded trays with satisfaction. "There's nothing more refreshing than a nice cup of tea at this time of day," he observed while Lucy began setting the cups. "Though Newson prefers coffee. But he won't say no to a snack either, will you, Paul?"
Despite the general's casual, nonchalant manner, Ben noticed his eyes, with an expression of keen, probing curiosity, rested on their party. Did he expect us to fall upon the food like animals? Ben chewed his sandwich with deliberate slowness, and made an effort not to slurp his tea.
The general reached for another muffin. "I'm truly glad to see you all here. Not all of us are as mobile as Peter. Circumstances prevent me from visiting the independent settlements beyond the Boundary, but I have heard from Peter that it is all very... remarkable."
Ben couldn't stop his mouth from twitching. "You mean the camps? I'd say the most remarkable thing about us is that we managed to survive this long without starving or dying from disease."
"Well, young man, at least you've got your eyes open. You must keep them so, I suppose, considering everything. In a way, though, I envy you. The Boundary area is so small, so crowded. A once-great nation living on the fringes of the vast land that had been all theirs a long time ago."
"No one is forcing the White Tower to stick within, as far as I know."
"You, in your circumstances, will naturally say that. I, on the other hand... I am old enough to remember my parents' tales of the post-War chaos. People crowding the refugee camps with their threadbare tents, shivering with cold. Not enough food, not enough water, not enough shelter, not enough anything for anyone. So many thousands of survivors succumbing to diseases, pollution, wounds, and the medical help woefully inadequate. Dwindling medicine supplies. And the fighting still raging out there, threatening to flare up again every day. The construction of the Boundary was what helped preserve at least some part of the country civilized and safe. But then, it also sadly confined us. Many, like myself, believe it is high time to break through."
"But not break it down?"
"No. I'm not a revolutionary, and think it quite unnecessary to topple an existing system in a violent manner. Today, with Connor as our president, a great deal can be achieved in a gradual, quiet way."
Senator Newson pursed his lips. "I would be more cautious, General. I put my all into getting President Connor to his present position, but unfortunately, the Van Wullens and Dahls are still pulling strings behind the scenes."
General Evans frowned. "I need hardly remind you, Senator, that the White Tower, headed by Alexander Dahl, involved me and some of my best men in the most disgraceful business, when I was ordered to use military force against citizens a couple of years ago. Though I protested, I did not resign my position. Call it prudence or weakness, but the stain this left upon my reputation will take much time and effort to remove. The White Tower does not own the army. It's a separate entity, designed to protect the citizens of this country, not shoot at them."
Peter Hughes cleared his throat. "I think your visitors may be wondering what all this has to do with them, General."
"Quite right, Mr. Hughes. Quite right. Well, young people, you might as well take into account the possibility that the White Tower may try to use the army against you someday. Or the Security Forces, which are more completely under their control."
Kate made a slight noise of alarm and disbelief. The others looked startled. "Why would that happen?" Ben asked. "We're out there, they're in here. The White Tower doesn't concern itself with us. And besides, Ted Connor—"
"I tell you, boy, Ted Connor has some very good notions, but our goal is to create something independent, strong, and thriving in its own right. That is why I am so glad to have you here."
None of the visitors said anything, but the question in everyone's eyes was obvious.
The general leaned back in his chair, settled the ankle of one leg on top of the other, and steepled his fingers. "The area outside the Boundary will not forever remain as wild and unexplored as it is today."
"Do you mean the White Tower might try to take over?" Tom fell into awkward silence when he saw the eyes of the three men in suits and ties resting upon him.
"Not quite, and certainly not at once, Tom," Peter Hughes said. "But the resources in the wild lands are enormous, and the Tower, even in these hopeful times, is controlled by greedy people. The fear of pollution will not keep them within the Boundary forever, not when available lands around here are dwindling, and Resurrection Town and the surrounding settlements are thriving. Someday, people who put their mark upon the land will be the gainers. People like you, for example."
"Nobody counts the likes of us," Ben said.
"Most unwisely," Senator Newson said. "The practice of declassing and abandoning children to their fate was despicable, but your population is growing, and someday you will have to be reckoned with. We anticipate this, and are offering you an alliance."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ben asked with something between interest and suspicion.
"Truthfully, not anything much, for the time being. There are the trading venues, which are nice, but it isn't going to shake the foundations of this country's economy. We are keeping a low profile for now."
"Who are 'we'?" Kate asked.
"A group of people who want a country that is more fair and just. People who are presently influential, but not enough to topple the White Tower. Not yet. We are a wide network, encompassing politicians and private businessmen, military men and media representatives. We even have friends in the Police Department and White Tower administration. Even a few in the Security Force. We're going to make forays to the areas beyond the Boundary, and will benefit from your cooperation in getting to know the land. We'll need reliable guides and field camps to travel far enough. Sometimes we might ask you to join us as manpower, but strictly on a voluntary basis, and on a very small scale. And most important, when the day comes and the White Tower begins to shake – and believe me, it will happen – we will all benefit from our mutual friendship and cooperation."
"It all sounds very simple," Ben said.
"It is, and for a simple reason," the general said. "I know drafting a written pact would be useless. You wild children are not a single entity, and even having the best intentions, you couldn't possibly make a commitment in everyone's name."
"That's right. I can't speak for every camp. Barely for my own, in fact."
"But it will help if you spread the word around. Let certain key people know they have friends within the Boundary, but without naming us. We are putting our trust in you five. If the wrong people learn of our plans… Well, you already know they are not above ordering the police and military to fire into crowds, so it's not likely they would hesitate to order individual deaths. You understand?"
They all nodded.
"Good. And if any particular camp is in dire need, send word through Peter and help will come. He will be the contact man for the foreseeable future."
"This is all very generous," Ben said, "but why?"
"To set a clear line separating us from the White Tower. We are not them, and do not wish to be confused with them when our presence is better known. We expect that you, and the others who live out there, will one day become the deciding factor in a political and social battle that will ch
ange the course of life, for better or for worse, for everyone inside and outside the Boundary, and we want you on our side, on the side that wants to put an end to government by the wealthy for the wealthy."
"So you want to destroy the Dahls and the Van Wullens and the other wealthy families?" Shauna asked.
"Destroy? No. Relieve them of their political power? Yes. Those families saved America after the war. They alone had the means and the will to create the Boundary, to save those who could be saved, and to rebuild a civilization. But as power passed from the old generation to the new, a sense of entitlement crept in. A belief that being born into wealth made them intrinsically superior to those less fortunate. Our former President was part of the second post-war generation, and his sense of superiority and entitlement was absolute. It's what kept him from understanding the concerns of ordinary citizens. It's what led him to devise the unconscionable plan to, first, euthanize unwanted babies, and then, when that became untenable, to raise them in orphanages and then ship them outside the Boundary at age twelve to survive on their own, or die. You know, the worst thing about that horrific time was that if they had been allowed to remain in the orphanages until they were eighteen, and adults, he could have provided reasonable supplies so they could survive and then shipped them out and no one would have batted an eye."
"Why didn't he?" Tom asked.
"Because he didn't want to spend the money. It would have cut too deeply into profits. In his mind, they should never have been born, and if they were born, never suffered to live since they did not fit into the very controlled system his parents and grandparents devised. So they were expendable." A brief look of sorrow filled his face as his head shook. "The order to shoot protesting citizens was the last straw for many of us. It made us realize the time for wealthy families controlling everything for their own profit had passed. Long passed. And now, here we are. Does anyone want more tea?"
All heads shook in silence. "Oh, come on. Try one of the muffins. They're really good."
Ben reached for one as he asked, "Have you ever been beyond the Boundary?"