by Isamu Fukui
“Excuse me,” she said to the albino as Zen stirred.
“Of course.”
Floe ran for the auditorium on the second floor, where all the common briefings were given. Even sliding down the banisters, she knew she would be late. By the time she got there, Cross was already onstage and in the middle of explaining the current situation. Government soldiers watched in silence from the back of the room.
Floe found a seat next to Sepp. Her confusion turned to horror as she realized what was going on.
“Right now the Truants have withdrawn into District 15 and are holed up in there like rats. The Government is offering us a great honor,” Cross said. “To prove that we can be trusted, to have some say in what comes next, we’re going to go in first. We were there for the start of this chaos, and now we can finish it.
“You all know that it’s going to be dangerous, but yesterday we were prepared to stand and die just to lose the war. Right now I tell you that we can stand and die to win it. This is the only chance we’ll get to end the war on our terms.”
Floe looked around. Sepp’s expression was unreadable, but most of the others present seemed to be reacting positively to Cross’ speech. Like kids in a classroom, the poor students heard the lecture—but they didn’t understand what it really meant.
The Government is trying to draw out the Truancy’s infiltrators. It’ll probably work too. Floe thought bitterly. How neat. When the bloodbath is over they can move in easily over our dead bodies.
Floe stared grimly up at the stage as her leader proceeded with his briefing.
* * *
“I am not ordering any of you to do anything.” Cross looked out into a sea of unfamiliar faces. “I do not feel that I should order you to do anything. I never wanted to be the leader of the Student Militia, and I’m sure most of you have noticed that I’ve been running from that responsibility.”
A boy heckled from the back row. “Got that right!”
Cross ignored him.
“I’ve never really spoken to you all like this, and I should have,” Cross admitted. “For more than a year now the Student Militia has been my entire life—serving was my only purpose. I won’t pretend to be Edward, who had a vision for this City. I have no great ambition, no extraordinary perspective.”
The audience was murmuring now, and yet their eyes remained fixed upon Cross. Cross found that the words spilled easily from his mouth when he told the truth. Perhaps he had never given a speech before because it was hard to sell one full of lies.
“If Edward were here he would probably remind you that it has to be us students who defeat the Truancy. He would say that we’re fighting to have a voice, to say that no one else speaks for us, to make our own choices and stand for them.”
Cross took a deep breath.
“Maybe that’s how we got started, and maybe that’s why some of you still fight. But as far as I’m concerned, I just want to fight. The Student Militia gives me a purpose and in return I offer it everything I have. That’s why I’m going to District 15.”
Cross hesitated, then continued.
“As I said, I’m not ordering you to do anything, least of all imitate me. I know that my reasons are pretty bad. The reason I’m asking for volunteers is because I know there are better reasons in this auditorium. I know some of you want to protect your families. I know some of you want to punish the Truancy for all they’ve done. I know some of you want to win benefits for yourselves.
“All of those are better reasons than mine, and I’m still heading out there. What I really mean to say is this—if my bad reason is good enough to fight for, then what is yours good for?”
Cross stepped away from the microphone. His heart pounded as he stared out at the audience. Then the students burst into applause. A few of them even raised weapons into the air and shouted their enthusiasm.
Cross felt a smile tug at his lips. He had done it.
The auditorium emptied quickly as students ran for their lockers. Cross descended from the stage and walked down the aisle, elated. All of his weariness and confusion vanished, swept away by anticipation of the coming battle.
Cross found it easy now to embrace his lack of purpose and ambition. He could live with devoting everything to the war that had been the reason for the Student Militia’s existence, and which had become the reason for his own.
Floe and Sepp were already waiting in the aisle. Cross ignored the looks on their faces as he approached.
“You two, hurry up and get your gear,” Cross said. “We’re—”
“Are you out of your mind?”
Floe’s shrill words caught Cross completely off guard. This was the last reaction that he had expected from her.
“What are you screaming about all of a sudden?” Cross demanded.
“What am I screaming about?” Floe looked at him in a way he had never seen before, as though she could not recognize him. “What do you think I’m screaming about? We just lost a member of our team, you just admitted to being some kind of adrenaline junkie, and as if that wasn’t enough, you want to waste more lives attacking District 15?”
Cross staggered back a step. The words were like a physical blow. They hurt more than he imagined words could.
“Cross, even you must be able to see that all we can hope to accomplish is clearing a bunch of mines with our bodies!” Floe continued. “This is suicide—”
“You said that about our mission against Takan!” Cross felt his anger rising. “We’re still here, aren’t we?”
“Barely, and Joe isn’t!” Floe said scathingly. “And we failed that mission, if you haven’t noticed!”
“I meant every word I said up on that podium.” Cross spoke with hard conviction. “There will be consequences beyond this one battle. The Militia has only this one chance to prove itself. That General believes that we’re infested with Truancy spies—”
“Then she’s not wrong, Cross!” Floe insisted. “I know you meant what you said, but don’t let your emotions blind you! The Truancy has tons of spies in the Militia, you know that! You’re walking into a death trap!”
“I’m with Floe on this one.” Sepp looked uncomfortable. “Cross, I was touched by your speech, but there’s no need for us to fight. We’re safe now, man. You saw what the Government’s got out there. Why not let them handle it?”
“You don’t know what it’s like to watch you do this, Cross!” Floe’s eyes were full of tears now. “I’m watching you lose yourself to a madness you don’t even recognize, and I can’t save you! Please, I’m trying to save you!”
Cross looked bitterly from one of his friends to the other. Why did they refuse to understand how important this was for him? Other students he didn’t even know by name would be fighting by his side, and yet his most trusted companions now saw fit to abandon him. In the one moment when he needed and counted upon their support the most, they had turned on him.
A sudden rage seized hold of Cross.
“Fine!” he shouted. “I only asked for volunteers anyway. If you two want to play it safe and coddle each other here, then be my guest.”
Floe whispered, “Cross—”
“Shut up! You got what you wanted,” Cross said. “Now leave me alone!”
“She doesn’t deserve that, Cross.” Sepp glared.
“Of course you take her side!” Cross ranted. “I bet you guys blame me for our failure of a mission, right? You’ve probably been whispering to everybody about what a terrible leader I make. Well you know what? You’re right! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?”
Cross spun around and kicked an auditorium chair so hard that the armrest broke off. Punctuating each blow with a roar, Cross drove his foot into the seat again and again until it was nothing but a pile of splinters on the ground. Behind him Floe collapsed into sobs.
Cross slung his rifle over his shoulder and stormed out of the auditorium, kicking another seat into the upright position just for good measure. Some small part of him felt sick on the inside, but he
knew that the battle would make it better. Battle always did.
* * *
Floe had never known physical pain that hurt like this.
It was as though the image in her mind that she had labeled and cherished as Cross had suddenly removed a mask to reveal something ugly and monstrous beneath. She couldn’t recognize him. The boy who had just flown into a violent rage showed not a trace of the person she had thought she’d known so well.
Sepp laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. Wiping her tears away, Floe mumbled an excuse and ran out of the auditorium. She sought out and found an unlit and empty hallway, and there she slumped against a window, a lonely silhouette against the light of a streetlamp outside.
“It’s tearing him up inside, you know.”
Floe nearly choked on her tears as she spun around. In a shadowy corner of her own, the nameless albino stood serenely, holding hands with a sleepy-looking Zen.
“You…” Floe swallowed, regaining her composure. “You heard him?”
“I think the whole building did,” the albino said. “That boy has experienced a lot of pain in his life, I think, and he has trouble recognizing his friends from his enemies. He cares about you a lot. His anger at your disapproval proves that. He’s just having trouble understanding who he is.”
“If he doesn’t understand,” Floe said, “then what good is it?”
“That, I suspect, may be up to you.”
She gave Floe a reassuring smile, then turned and began to lead Zen off in the direction of the cafeteria. Speechless, Floe watched her go.
Then, almost against her will, she turned to gaze out the window at the students heading off in the familiar black vans.
* * *
“How many left?”
“Just two divisions, Aaron. One all the way out in District 48, and us.”
A warm wind rustled their hair as Takan and Aaron stood high atop the roof of the abandoned office building that the Truancy had long used as their main headquarters. It was long past midnight, and the clouds had lifted, allowing the bright and faintly bluish moonlight to cast its tint over the City. With electricity out and most of the fires subdued, the City itself was now almost totally dark.
“The airplanes have been quiet for a while now,” Aaron remarked. “Can’t we just scatter into the neighboring districts?”
“Not a good idea.” Takan shook his head. “For one thing, as long as their attention is on us, the other division will be able to get away. For another, they’ve surrounded the whole district. They probably know we’ve set traps here. They’re holding back.”
“Well, isn’t that a good thing?”
“You would think so,” Takan muttered, his eyes scanning the horizon. “But the enemy being as powerful as they are, I’m wondering if they’re just waiting for something worse to come along. How are the tunnels going?”
“Just about done. We’ve blasted tunnels in five places all over the district. Plus we’ve got the subway and manholes,” Aaron said. “It’s not gonna be clean, but we can be gone at a moment’s notice.”
“Then we’d better get back down to ground level,” Takan said. “It looks like we’ve got trouble coming.”
In the distance dark shapes were approaching from all over the City. The Truants recognized them immediately as the black vans that the Student Militia had taken to using as transport. Sure enough, as the first of the vans halted at the border of District 15, doors opened and blue-clad figures began pouring out.
“Students?” Aaron said, aghast. “Are they serious?”
Both Truants ran for the stairwell, talking breathlessly as they descended.
“How come the spies didn’t warn us?” Aaron wondered aloud, then smacked himself upside the head. “Oh yeah, communications are down.”
“Looks like Umasi was right about the students after all,” Takan said grimly. “Are they just sucking up to authority as usual? Or maybe the Government threatened them too?”
“Who cares, if they step in here they’ll be blown away,” Aaron said. “The Militia doesn’t have any of that fancy Government stuff. It’ll be like meat into a grinder.”
Just as Aaron and Takan reached the ground floor, they heard explosions in the distance. They burst out into the open in time to see the first blasts subside. More began to go off, accompanied by distant screaming as the students set off trap after trap.
“Those fools,” Aaron gasped. “Are they suicidal? They’re dying for nothing out there!”
“Not for nothing,” Takan said darkly. “They’re clearing our traps with their lives. When they’re done dying, the Government will be able to move in easily.”
Aaron frowned. “What’re we going to do about it?”
“Play our last cards.”
Takan reached for one of his two radios. This was the one set to the frequency used by the Truancy.
“Everyone, they’re sending students in,” Takan said. “You know the drill. Keep them back as long as you can. This is our last stand. Good luck.”
More gunfire erupted from all over the district, and the battle began in earnest. Takan and Aaron each raised their own rifles and ran for the front lines.
“They’ve sent the entire Militia after us, and we don’t have many guys left,” Aaron pointed out. “If they get through the mines, we won’t slow them down much.”
“No,” Takan admitted, “but this will.”
Takan raised the second radio to his mouth. This one had been captured from the Student Militia and was set to their open frequency.
“This is Takan, leader of the Truancy. All sleeper agents, activate now!”
12
GOVERNMENT TRIUMPHANT
The mechanic paused in the middle of fixing the District 2 School’s boiler. He blinked. He turned to stare at the radio, which he had left resting against a pipe. He wondered, not for the first time that day, if he had finally gone insane like they always said he was. Then the sounds of gunfire and shouts came in over the radio, enough to justify the earlier command from Takan.
And if I am crazy, this will just be another act of a madman.
The mechanic licked his lips and put down his tools. He was a teenager, called in to replace the adult mechanic who had been drafted into the Enforcers. He had volunteered to join the Student Militia, but because they could not find a shred of aptitude for fighting in him, and because he had been handy with tools, they took him on as a mechanic instead.
“You better not be messing with my head, radio,” the mechanic said, opening his toolbox. “I’ve been waiting for this for a year now.”
The mechanic reached in and withdrew a solid block of explosives and a roll of duck tape. Walking over to a large concrete support pillar, he carefully taped the block to it and returned to his toolbox. He was reaching for more explosives when a voice called out from the open doorway.
“It’s Max, isn’t it?”
The mechanic froze, then reached for a large wrench. He turned to look at the person standing in the doorway.
“Sepp,” Max said. “What’s an officer like you doing in a place like this?”
“I heard the message on the radio and thought I’d come admire the view down here,” Sepp replied. “You know, these support columns are really relaxing to gaze at when there’s a threat of sabotage.”
Sepp’s eyes flitted to the explosives strapped to the column, and then back to Max. For a moment the two boys stared at each other. Then they both sprang into action. Sepp reached for his sidearm, but with unexpected speed Max struck him upside the head with his wrench. Sepp stumbled, and Max slugged him in the stomach. He seized Sepp by the collar and threw him into the boiler room.
Sepp forced himself to his feet. He ducked another swing of the wrench but was unable to stop Max from kicking him in the chest. The wind knocked from him, his head bleeding, Sepp could do nothing as he was slammed against the support column. Struggling to stay conscious, Sepp abruptly became aware that he was b
eing taped to the concrete.
“You sly bastard.” Sepp grinned as he slumped against the column. “You’re just a mechanic. Since when could you fight like that?”
“Just a mechanic? I’m one of the founding members of the Truancy, Sepp,” Max said, finishing the roll of tape. “I even outlived our leader. You tend to pick up a few things along the way.”
Sepp laughed, the sound echoing throughout the room.
“I like that. That’s good. Irony. You were the officer all along.” Sepp shut his eyes. “Are you going to blow up the building?”
“Of course I am.” Max strapped more explosives to the support column, right above Sepp’s head. “Why do you think I picked this job? No one ever notices the hired help.”
“So your mission all along was to make nice with us and then make us go boom.”
“That sums it up, yeah,” Max said, returning to his toolbox. “Nothing personal, Sepp. From what I could tell, you weren’t a bad guy.”
“Where’re you going now?” Sepp asked.
“To the other columns.”
Sepp tilted his head to the side. “Don’t you have to kill me first?”
“Nah,” Max said. “The explosion will take care of that, along with the rest of the building.”
Max shut his toolbox and rose to his feet. Then a new voice piped up.
“Explosions are dangerous!”
Blinking, Max looked down and stared. A small boy with a stuffed animal was tugging at his trousers, a stern expression on his face. Max considered what he was seeing for a moment, and then laughed as he came to the obvious conclusion.
“You’re a hallucination,” Max informed the child.
“I’m afraid not,” a female voice said.
Max spun around. Before he could even see the face of his attacker, there was a swish of white and he had been flipped onto the ground. The impact and the surprise stunned him, and a foot pressing lightly on his back convinced him not to try to rise.
“Mom, what’s hallucination?” the child asked.
“It’s something you see that’s not really there,” the girl explained. “Like a dream, but while awake. They’re usually seen by crazy people.”