Truancy Origins

by Isamu Fukui

  “No, I—”

  “Never mind, that’s not the point! As disturbing as your wasteful incompetence is, it’s not the point!” The Mayor shook his head distractedly. “I don’t know how he’s doing it, but it’s clear to me now that my son is making a fool of you. I should never have put you in charge of this search. You’re fired. Get out of my office and await my punishment later.”

  “No!” Rothenberg said desperately, his dreams crashing in ruins around him. “Mr. Mayor, I . . . I . . .” Rothenberg cast around wildly for something, anything he could say, and his mind suddenly fell upon the mysterious lemonade stand that he had come across. “I located one of them, Mayor, I know where one of your sons is!”

  “Oh? And where is that?” the Mayor asked coldly.

  “District 19!”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes! I saw . . . signs of one ofthem there, and my men report that that’s where some of the attackers fled to. I’m sure of it! Your son is there!”

  “Then why have you not sent any patrols to pick him up?”

  Rothenberg opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come, and he shut it again, looking like a great fish gasping for air. The Mayor watched this display with cold fury, and then leaned forward in his chair.

  “Very well, Rothenberg,” the Mayor said in a soft but dangerous voice, “if you think one of my sons is in District 19, you will enter that district—alone—and bring him back to me. You have one day.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” the Mayor said. “If you’re not lying, go get my son yourself. But I swear to you, if you do not have him here tomorrow, then you will never see the light of day again. Dismissed.”

  30

  KINDRED SPIRITS

  Would you turn off that damn siren? If there’s anyone in that district they’ll hear us coming a mile off.”

  “My apologies, Mr. Rothenberg.”

  “The flashing lights aren’t helping either. Turn those off too.”

  “Regulations won’t allow it, I’m afraid.”

  Rothenberg glared at the man in the driver’s seat. The Mayor was insulting him, he knew, by sending this insufferable aide along with Rothenberg. What’s worse, Rothenberg wasn’t even being allowed to drive the single patrol car on its way to District 19. For his part, Jack looked quite smug at the wheel.

  “Forget the regulations and turn the damn lights off,” Rothenberg ordered. “And you’re supposed to call me ‘sir.’ ”

  “Actually, the Mayor made it quite clear to me that you’re no longer even an Enforcer,” Jack said. “It hardly seems appropriate to call you ‘sir’ when a lowly aide like myself outranks you.”

  “You better watch yourself,” Rothenberg warned. “If I come back today with what the Mayor is looking for, you can bet that I’ll be Chief Enforcer again.”

  “The Mayor thought you’d say that,” Jack said unconcernedly. “He also said he’d be surprised if you decided to come back at all.”

  Rothenberg fumed. So the Mayor was that determined to humiliate him, was he? But what burned worse than the insult was the knowledge that it was true. Rothenberg wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do, or even what he could do, but he knew that returning to the Mayor empty-handed was not an option.

  “Tell me something, Rothenberg,” Jack said suddenly, and Rothenberg looked at him in surprise. “What’s out there that’s so dangerous? What are you looking for?”

  “The Mayor still hasn’t told you, then? No, he wouldn’t have, not an insignificant clerk like you,” Rothenberg said scornfully. “It’s between me and the Mayor alone, and you’ll keep your nose out of it if you know what’s good for you.”

  “You’re an angry man, Rothenberg,” Jack observed as he braked at an intersection. “Why do you hate children so much? Were you beaten when you were one?”

  At that, Rothenberg’s furious retort died on his lips, and the car interior was suddenly very silent. Sensing that he had unintentionally touched a nerve, Jack did not press Rothenberg further, and the rest of the ride passed in tedious silence. After what seemed like hours, the impressive wooden barrier surrounding District 19 finally came into view.

  “We’re here,” Jack said as the car came to a halt. “I’m supposed to wait for you until sundown. I’m afraid that the Mayor told me to inform you that if you’re not back by then he’ll issue a warrant for your arrest. Good luck, Rothenberg.”

  “Worry about yourself,” Rothenberg snapped, looking at the wooden fence through the windshield. “I’ll be seeing you again. Count on it.”

  With that cryptic statement, Rothenberg flung the passenger door open and stormed out. Jack blinked as the man slipped over the fence and into District 19, then removed a cup of coffee from the car’s cup holder and took a thoughtful sip. Whatever his task had been, Rothenberg had obviously failed and was now being punished for it. That was interesting. Interesting . . . and worrying.

  Looking around to make sure that he was not being watched, Jack furtively removed a notepad from his pocket and began writing.

  Icannot understand it. Didn’t it bother you? The idea that you would be ending a life?” Umasi demanded. “How could you even consider killing someone defenseless like that?”

  Edward bit back his snarled retort, and tried to force his voice into the normal polite one that he always used with Umasi. Edward had dutifully returned to Umasi as had become routine, but he had not expected to deal with this irritating and naïve interrogation. He had made certain to wear a jacket today, within which he concealed the gun taken from beneath the floorboards. Umasi was sorely tempting him to use it now, but Edward knew that that was a step he had to be very careful about taking. Who knew what other secrets Umasi might yet be hiding? Reminding himself that he was in control, that he could end Umasi’s life at any time, Edward calmed himself and spoke. Still, despite his best efforts, a hint of impatience slipped into his voice.

  “I’ve already apologized, Mr. Umasi. I’m not sure what else you want from me.”

  “I want to know how it happened!” Umasi said. “Until yesterday I had been convinced that you were a good person with a few quirks, but after what I saw yesterday I have begun to suspect that I am mistaken.”

  “How can you say that?” Edward said, feigning hurt. “Sir, everything I did yesterday was for you! I was just trying to do what you wanted! I misunderstood your intentions, yes, and I said I’m sorry! I don’t know what else I can do!”

  “Edward,” Umasi said, “I’m honored that you were willing to kill for me . . . but at the same time, nothing could shame me more. I obviously have been remiss when speaking with you, for I must not have made my beliefs clear. When relating my tale I must’ve left out the most important parts.”

  “The most important parts?” Edward repeated, all thoughts of going for his gun suddenly forgotten.

  “Yes.” Umasi nodded. “I told you all the facts, or nearly all of them as best as I could remember. But I failed to relate the lessons that I had learned. You don’t yet understand the true value of life, Edward, not like the two before you did. Sometimes it can be the only possession you have left. To steal it is the ultimate crime.”

  Edward nearly snorted aloud. This dribble was supposed to be important? Umasi intended to lecture him in some misguided attempt to appeal to morals that he didn’t have? There was no profit in empathy, a lesson obviously lost upon Umasi, despite all of the boy’s supposed wisdom. Some of Edward’s annoyance must have shown on his face, for Umasi let out a deep sigh and hunched over the lemonade stand, hands folded pensively under his chin.

  “You don’t understand,” Umasi repeated sadly. “Return to the orphanage, Edward. I find that I don’t feel much like playing right now.”

  Edward gave a curt nod in reply, then stormed off, leaving Umasi to brood alone at his stand. As he turned the street corner, Edward quickly came to a decision. His patience had run out; he would give Umasi another day to get over the incident, but if Edwa
rd could not coax anything useful from the boy the next day, then their “friendship” would have to come to an end.

  That decided, the rest of his trek towards District 18 passed in relative peace. He allowed his mind to wander and dwell upon what he would do when he eventually, inevitably, assumed control of the City. What had once been idle fantasy was now viable goal, and it felt great. So lost was he in his own dreams that it took Edward a moment to notice the sound of distant sirens approaching. When he did, he snapped back to full alertness.

  He was only a block away from the barrier dividing Districts 18 and 19, and judging from the direction of the sound, the Enforcers were probably right on the other side of that barrier. But why were they here? They couldn’t be looking for him; the orphanage had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong, and Edward was sure that he had covered his tracks. That meant it was either a completely random search . . . or they were after Umasi. After a moment’s consideration, Edward decided to ascend to a nearby rooftop in order to better judge the situation—a strategy that he admittedly would not have thought of if it hadn’t been for Umasi.

  The moment he reached the top, Edward scrambled over to the edge of the roof and looked down. He was surprised by what he saw. A single Enforcer patrol car had drawn right up to the wooden barrier and two Enforcers seemed to be talking inside. Then one of them, a massive creature, opened the passenger door and slipped out. He seemed to give the fence a long, hard look, and then began to climb over it with surprising dexterity. All of this was unfolding less than two blocks away from Edward’s position, and he quickly ducked out of sight in case the Enforcer thought to look upwards.

  Edward quickly weighed his options. This was a perfect opportunity for him to declare his allegiance to the Educators; he could lead this man right to Umasi, earning the gratitude of the Mayor himself, to whom he would offer his services in destroying the Truancy. Not a bad start to a career, but upon further consideration, Edward decided that it was too risky. Umasi would not be killed, but left free to warn the Mayor of his treachery. What’s more, there was no telling that the Enforcer would not simply try to kill Edward and take the credit all for himself.

  No, Edward decided, it was not the right moment to jump the gun. Instead, a different plan began to take shape in Edward’s head. It wouldn’t do to have the Enforcer stumble across Umasi’s stand and risk having the boy returned to the safety of the Mayor’s custody. What’s more, after all the acting Edward longed to set his true nature loose, to prove, if only to himself, just what he was capable of. A single Enforcer in an abandoned district on his own—Edward couldn’t ask for a finer victim than that.

  His mind made up, Edward peered over the edge of the building again. The Enforcer was moving slowly, but following a set path. Running a few calculations through his head, he shimmied down the fire escape, then vanished down an alley as fast as he could. He had seen enough of District 19 to know something about its shortcuts, and managed to reach a distant block long before Rothenberg. Knowing that he had precious minutes to act, Edward looked around and swiftly spotted an old set of trapdoors in the sidewalk that provided access to the building’s basement. The lock had long since rusted away, and Edward had no problem in flinging the doors open.

  Seizing a heavy trash can from a nearby alley, Edward dragged it across the street and into the basement, making sure that it left a trail in the soot and dust that the Enforcer would be sure to see. He had to descend an irksome flight of stairs to reach the bottom, but once there he found it completely pitch black. He felt his way to an open door that led to another room and stowed the garbage can in there. Then he shut the door behind him, slipped beneath the stairwell, and drew his gun.

  The trap was set. There was nothing more that Edward could do but to wait for the Enforcer to fall into it.

  Though it would not be immediately apparent to anyone who walked into the flower shop, Noni could hear every word of spoken conversation uttered therein. Zyid was holding an urgent conference at the moment, with Gabriel, Frank, and a few other officers in attendance. Noni merely continued throwing knives at a wooden target, an exercise that had become trivial for her. She gave no indication that she was listening to what was being said, and Zyid never did either. But they both knew that she was. Every time a report was given and its messenger dismissed, Zyid would ask Noni for a recap and her opinions. She never failed in this regard, and though Zyid showed neither approval nor displeasure, she could tell that he was pleased.

  Noni had natural talent for eavesdropping. She was used to observing without being noticed, though she was increasingly observing that others were in fact noticing her. She had been seen in battle more than once now, and Zyid kept her close. The Truants had taken note, and among the rumors that were whispered was the assumption that she had abilities that she did not. To avoid them, she maintained a cold and distant approach, and for some reason it seemed to work. She had earned some respect, but neither wanted nor needed any friends.

  She had not participated in the celebrations of the previous night, when nearly all of the survivors of the assault on the Enforcer station had returned, giddy with success. There was a general feeling of accomplishment, of hope, now that they had proven that the Enforcers were not invulnerable. There had been an undercurrent of mourning for Amal, but the Truants who had once been vagrants were used to death, and the others were quickly growing accustomed to it. As for Noni, it didn’t bother her. Her whole world was built on one person, and so long as he lived, she was secure.

  Noni glanced furtively over at Zyid. He was now deep in conversation with Frank, Gabriel, and the other officers, serious looks on all of their faces. Zyid had let the Truants have their party the previous night, though he, like Noni, had taken no part in it. Noni wasn’t even sure where he had gone. Then, midway through the celebrations, Gabriel’s group showed up, the last to arrive. Noni had noticed immediately that something was wrong. Gabriel seemed grim, worried, and though all of his comrades were with him, many of them looked inexplicably pale. As if from nowhere, Zyid had appeared, hustling them off into a room for debriefing. Whatever had befallen them, Noni realized an hour later, could not have been good; Zyid emerged looking troubled, a rare expression for him.

  The incident went unnoticed by the rest of the Truancy, and neither Zyid nor Gabriel or any of his subordinates had made mention of it as far as she could tell. Noni yearned to know what was so terrible that it could trouble Zyid, but she had not yet mustered up the nerve to ask. And so she watched in silence, out of the corner of her eye, as Zyid finished talking with his subordinates and sent them out of the shop. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then, as she knew he would, turned to her.

  “So, Noni,” he said, “I trust that you were listening.”

  “Yes, sir. You’ve contacted a student named Alex in the District 1 School.”

  “Correct. Have you figured out why?”

  “You . . . before he died, you sent Amal to get blueprints for the District 1 School . . .” Noni recalled, to which Zyid gave an encouraging nod. “ . . . so . . . so are you planning to attack that school?”

  “More than just attack it,” Zyid said, an intense glint in his eyes. “I intend to demolish it.”

  “You mean . . . blow it up?”

  “Precisely,” Zyid said, turning to examine the papers on his table. “With Rothenberg out of the way, we need to make our grand City debut on our own terms. I’m not sure how much the Mayor knows about us, but I will make sure that he does not doubt how serious we are.”

  “Yes, sir,” Noni said, hesitating for a moment before plunging on with the question that had been bothering her for a day. “Sir, may I ask what Gabriel told you last night?”

  Zyid looked up at her sharply, the very action itself a silent rebuke. “Nothing that need concern you, Noni.”

  “Is it . . . dangerous?”

  “Very.”

  “Then I want to help.”

  “Appreciated, but
unwanted. It is a personal matter. I will not tolerate interference.”

  Zyid’s tone indicated that he would not accept any discussion on the matter, and Noni did not press him. But though she kept her silence, Noni came to a decision as she began throwing knives at the target again. No matter what he said, if Zyid ever found himself in danger, then Noni would be there to help in any way she could. After all, she knew that she could face any terror while at his side, but absolutely none without him.

  Rothenberg slowly descended the stairs, not really paying attention to the strange trail that he was following. It looked like something heavy had recently been dragged along the ground, all the way down to the basement. Rothenberg didn’t really expect it to actually be anything of interest, but there was little else to investigate without stumbling blindly around the district. As he had feared, District 19 looked different without the blizzard, and he had no idea where the lemonade stand had been before—if indeed it was still there at all.

  No, Rothenberg no longer had any hope of satisfying the Mayor. Reality was unpleasant, but there was no denying it. Rothenberg was now weighing his options, wondering how best to get out of the mess he had found himself in. There wasn’t much. If he tried to lie low within the living districts, the Enforcers would track him down; despite their failures in fighting Truants on their own turf, Rothenberg knew better than anyone what they were capable of. Returning empty-handed was not a happy prospect either, so what else was there? Rothenberg refused to even consider fleeing to the abandoned districts like a filthy child vagrant.

  Scowling at the world and the foul hand it had dealt him, Rothenberg reached the bottom of the stairs. It was nearly pitch black down here, and Rothenberg knew that he was in some sort of basement. But no matter, the trail had led here and he was interested in what lay at its end. Stepping forward into the darkness, Rothenberg found a doorknob, which he turned to reveal an utterly dark room. Stepping into the inky blackness, Rothenberg felt along the wall for a light switch, found one, flicked it on . . .