by Isamu Fukui
“I’m here to get my son back, you dolt. Why are you throwing yours away instead of raising him properly?”
“You’re sick,” Jack said disgustedly. “You’re a sick man. What was it you told me a few years back? That you were beaten as a child?”
Jack realized then that something had changed since they were colleagues. Rather than falling silent as he had before, Rothenberg’s face broke into a wide grin.
“My parents did discipline me,” Rothenberg said. “They made me strong, strong enough to survive by myself. I overcame every obstacle and clawed my way up to a position of power—I earned that power. It’s not right that children should be treated so soft these days! IT’S NOT RIGHT!”
“The hospital’s made you truly crazy,” Jack said. “When the Government finds out how insane you are they’ll put you back there for good.”
“When the Government finds you,” Rothenberg countered, “the only place they’ll put you is the morgue.”
Rothenberg lunged with surprising force. Jack, who had never had any combat training or experience in his life, jabbed the pole at his enemy. It was like trying to stop an elephant with a toothpick. Rothenberg swatted the pole aside, then slammed his hammer into Jack’s chest.
Jack fell backwards onto the ground, coughing.
“Any last words?” Rothenberg spat, raising his weapon.
Jack smiled as the hammer loomed above him. “In spite of all your efforts and all your strength, both of our sons are still free.”
Rothenberg scowled. “Not for long. I promise you that.”
Then he brought the hammer crashing down.
24
THE NEW MAYOR
Obeita entered the classroom and looked around. The floor was of gray linoleum, the walls painted a sickly green, and the lighting was fluorescent and dull. There were no windows. Her students sat silently at their desks, subdued by the soul-crushing atmosphere and the presence of a soldier at the door. Everything was perfect.
Obeita walked slowly to her desk, letting the students stew in fear, as was proper. She sat down, the chair creaking under her weight. Over her years of service to the Educators she had built a reputation for being able to break tough students. The Government appreciated that record, and so had offered her this job.
“Good evening, class,” she said. “My name is Ms. Obeita. From now on, I will be your teacher. As this is our first meeting, let me explain why you are here. This is a class for especially delinquent children. A class for chronic misbehavers, rebels, Truants”—she nearly spat that last word—“and the like.”
Indeed some of the students, dressed in their gray uniforms, glared at her from the desks to which they had all been handcuffed. Obeita smiled back. They would be broken soon enough.
“Now, as this is just an introduction, we only have time to go over the ground rules,” Obeita said. “There will, of course, be no speaking out of turn, no communication at all between students. If any one of you breaks a rule, a punishment will be administered to the entire class. All work must be completed within the allotted time; if it is not, then the entire class will repeat the exercise.”
Obeita could see eyes flicking to the soldier and then back. They were students, yes, but also prisoners. None of them seemed willing to provoke her wrath. Obeita smiled and then pointed at a blank board on one wall.
“That board,” she announced, “will be your new purpose in life. All students will be ranked up there so the whole class can know who is to blame for the loss of their recess. The top five students will be exempt from all group punishments. The positions, of course, can change at any time.
“You will be rewarded for timely completion of work, your grades; for exposing the bad behavior of your peers, you will earn extra points, and an exemption from the group’s punishment.”
Obeita smiled at the looks on their faces. They knew what she was doing, and they also knew that they couldn’t do anything to stop her. Before long she would have them all hating one another, eager to compete for her favor.
“Finally,” Obeita paused for dramatic effect, “You may have noticed that you all have a small device attached to your ankles. It will deliver a small shock as an immediate punishment should any of you misbehave. You are all considered high-risk students, so the shock has, of course, been set unusually high. Now…” Obeita stood up and surveyed the class. “Are there any questions before we adjourn?”
One girl with stunning blue eyes and raven hair stood up. Obeita read the name tag clipped to her gray uniform, and smiled. “Yes, Noni?”
“How would you like your guts fed to you after I rip them from your fat, ugly corpse?” Noni asked. “I’m thinking of dicing them before—”
The girl was interrupted as her ankle bracelet came to life. Noni jerked in place for a moment, but Obeita was disappointed to see that she did not scream or fall as expected.
“—before I stuff them down your throat,” Noni finished through gritted teeth.
Obeita smiled at Noni, then nodded at the soldier. This time Noni did scream, a cry of pain ripping itself from her throat as the shock sent her crashing to the floor. She began cursing wildly at Obeita, trying to lunge at her, though the handcuff held fast.
Obeita looked at the soldier. “Again.”
The other students stared in horrified fascination as Noni began shrieking again, writhing in agony. The soldier would stop, allow Noni to catch her breath, then resume the shocks. Finally, exhausted, Noni slumped silently in her chair.
Obeita walked over to Noni’s seat and stood over the defeated girl.
“Now dear,” she said, stroking Noni’s cheek, “if you don’t learn to behave, this will be just the first day of the rest of your life.”
* * *
Cross kicked off the ground and watched the world whoosh by. He felt a fluttering in his stomach that he hadn’t known since childhood. Then, with a creak the swing swung forward, and Cross shut his eyes against the wind.
He was waiting at the rendezvous point, a playground in District 20’s Grand Park. Takan was taking longer than Cross had expected, and he was concerned that the Truancy’s leader might have underestimated Rothenberg. As the swing came to a rest, Cross remained still, thinking of how poor a start the day had been for their alliance. He’d let secrets come between him and his new ally, and that ally had ended up fighting his father for him.
Cross got to his feet. Just about the only thing that had gone right was getting here. Martial law was in effect throughout the district, and most people were off the streets—certainly none could be found in this part of the Grand Park. It was only upon arrival that Cross had realized that he’d been to this very playground in his childhood. He’d had fun here.
As Cross’ mind dwelled on Rothenberg, other more unpleasant memories threatened to surface. He suppressed them, stretching his legs. If Takan couldn’t finish off Rothenberg, Cross swore to handle it himself the next time they met, no matter what.
There came a sound of footsteps behind him. Cross tensed, then realized that the steps were not heavy or slow enough to be Rothenberg’s. He turned around and saw Takan running towards him, looking almost frantic.
“Takan, what—”
Takan shook his head vigorously and raised a finger to his lips. He seized Cross by the shoulder and dived for a nearby tube tunnel for small kids to crawl in. There was barely enough room to accommodate the teenagers as they hid inside. Irritated, Cross bent his head backwards to glare at the Truant leader.
“Takan, what the hell is going on?”
“You knew that man who attacked us, right?” Takan whispered. “Well he’s also working for the Government. My dad stayed behind to buy us time.”
“So everything is all right then, isn’t it?”
Takan shook his head. “Listen.”
Cross fell silent and strained his ears. Coming from somewhere above was the faint drone of a helicopter. Cross glanced at Takan.
“Did it see you?” he de
manded.
Takan hesitated. “It might have.”
The two teenagers waited in silence for many minutes. The air in the tube grew hot and stuffy, and the position Cross had been cramped into quickly became uncomfortable. Shifting around in the small tube, Cross shut his eyes and tried not to think about the Government agents above—there was simply nothing he could do in this situation. The helicopter seemed to grow very loud at one point, and Takan and Cross held their breaths.
Slowly the noise of the helicopter faded away. Cross and Takan waited a few more minutes to be sure, then looked at each other. Nodding, they crawled out into the open. Cross bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he gasped for fresh air. He looked up. The skies seemed to be clear.
“I think it’s gone,” Cross said.
“Yeah,” Takan agreed. “We’re still a little early, so give it a little time before our contacts get here. I don’t want to risk a call with so much attention in the area.”
Cross nodded. Then there was a loud squeak of metal behind them, and both Takan and Cross reached for their weapons. Cross spun around and was surprised to find that the newcomer was an unfamiliar boy in his late teens. His skin had a yellow tinge, and he was dressed all in black, with a matching windbreaker buttoned around his neck like a cape. The boy’s hair was dark and shiny, but unkempt, as though it had been neglected for some months.
The stranger carried two sheathed swords, one on either side, and his eyes were concealed by black sunglasses. It was impossible to discern any emotion on that face. Something about the way he moved, the stiff sort of determination in his steps, made Cross very uneasy. This boy, whoever he was, was trouble.
Cross drew his knife, but felt Takan’s hand seize his wrist.
“Umasi!” Takan sounded relieved. “It’s great to see you again. I was hoping to run into you. You have perfect timing.”
“You know this guy?”
“Yeah, Cross, you’ve heard of him too,” Takan said. “Come to think of it, all three of us are here in one place, that’s something. Cross, this is Umasi, my former mentor. Umasi, this is Cross, he’s the—”
“Former leader of the Student Militia.” Umasi’s voice was smooth. “His reputation precedes him.”
Cross felt a growing sense of unease. Takan was right, Umasi did have perfect timing—too perfect. What were the odds that he would appear here right after the Government helicopter departed? And the albino had said it was Umasi who had thrown himself in front of Iris, hadn’t she?
Takan still didn’t seem to suspect anything, talking animatedly with his mentor. Cross looked again at Umasi. The boy’s body was tense, his expression unreadable.
Cross yanked his knife hand free from Takan’s grip. Both Umasi and Takan turned to look at him.
“How did you get here?” Cross demanded, glaring at Umasi. “How did you find us?”
Umasi cocked his head. “I got a lift.”
“From the Government?”
“Yes,” Umasi said calmly, turning to a stunned Takan. “Incidentally, that’s what I’m here to talk to you about. General Iris is my half-sister, and it turns out that she’s willing to negotiate. She has made a guarantee that no students will be killed. I believe it would be best if we all accepted the offer.”
“Your family sounds more screwed up than mine,” Cross said. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Umasi, but I don’t know you. I don’t trust you.”
“Cross, this is my mentor,” Takan protested. “I’ve known him for years, he’s a good person.”
“I knew you’d be reasonable, Tack.” Umasi smiled. “It’s time for us to unite and concentrate on recovery. There is nothing to achieve by further struggle against the Government.”
Takan shook his head. “That’s not true, Umasi! Cross and I are forming a united resistance, we’re going to the deep City to rally students and Truants and adults alike to fight the Government! With your help—”
“No.”
The utterance seemed to shock Takan. There was a ringing silence, and Cross knew immediately that Takan had made a mistake.
“No, I can’t approve of that, my friend,” Umasi continued. “The more trouble there is in the deep City, the harder it will be for the Government to help the people there.”
“The Government will help them by putting them in camps,” Cross said disgustedly. “They don’t really care about citizens.”
“The people don’t want the Government’s help,” Takan agreed. “They want the right to live and die with their dignity. Umasi, we can’t accept outsiders just coming in and taking everything over.”
Umasi straightened to his full height, and Cross now saw in him the figure that had so impressed Edward, Takan, and the albino.
“You won’t have to accept outsiders, Tack. The Government has even appointed a new Mayor. Civilian leadership is returning to this City.” Umasi spread his arms. “You two can be part of that leadership. Join us.”
“A new Mayor?” Takan blinked. “Umasi, you know what that office stands for! This is the same thing all over again! The new Mayor will be just like the last one!”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
Cross frowned. “How can you know for sure?”
For the first time, Umasi smiled. The growing unease that Cross had felt abruptly reached its zenith.
“Because,” Umasi said, “I am the new Mayor.”
The silence was absolute. It was as though even the wind had died. Cross felt his body numb with fear as he realized how much trouble they were in. He could think of nothing to say. Cross glanced over at Takan, who looked thunderstruck.
“What—what are you doing, Umasi?” Takan blurted. “How could you betray us like this?”
“Betray you?” Umasi shook his head. “My loyalty has always been to peace, the preservation of life. This City is now my responsibility. I’ll do what I must to protect it.”
Takan shivered. “This can’t be happening.”
“Tack, I don’t want to kill you,” Umasi said. “Don’t make me kill you. Give up.”
For a moment Cross was worried that Takan would do just that. Then the Truant seemed to steel himself. His ceramic sword came out of its sheath.
“I’m not surrendering to the Government.”
Umasi sighed. “Very well. If eliminating you two means averting another war and saving thousands … then there is no choice.”
The new Mayor reached for his weapons. He gripped a ceramic blade tightly in each hand, sizing up his two opponents. Then he attacked.
* * *
“Put us down over there!” Iris shouted over the din of the rotor blades.
The pilot complied, and Iris held on as the helicopter descended. The evening air blew cool in her wavy hair, but Iris felt only a warm anger as they touched down near a group of soldiers. Wasting no time, Iris hopped out and walked over to the soldiers, who quickly parted for her.
In their midst sat a disgruntled looking Rothenberg, a bloody hammer at his feet.
“You,” Rothenberg said, making a face as Iris approached.
“Me,” Iris agreed.
“How did you find me?”
Iris folded her arms. “Mr. Rothenberg, we’ve been following your movements ever since your surgery. You have a tracking device implanted in you that will allow us to locate you anywhere, at any time.”
Rothenberg’s face reddened, though he kept himself in check. Good, Iris thought. She was in no mood for his attitude.
“What did you think you were doing, Mr. Rothenberg?” Iris demanded.
Rothenberg glowered. “I was chasing down my son like you wanted, until your soldiers decided to get in my way. What’s the meaning of this? I thought we had a deal!”
“Umasi has sent word that he is now in pursuit of your son and another one of our targets,” Iris said. “We’re sending him backup as we speak.”
Rothenberg glowered. “Then get out of my way, and let me join them!”
Iris’ eyes narrowed. Before
Rothenberg could react, the staff was extended and had already struck him on the head. The massive man toppled to the ground. Iris pressed the staff to his neck. Rothenberg screamed as electricity set his nerves on fire.
Iris lifted her finger from the button. “I told you I had no patience for disrespect or incompetence, Mr. Rothenberg. You have demonstrated both today.”
Rothenberg wheezed, his cheeks puffing up like a fish’s gills as he gasped for air. “I found my son, I—”
“Let him escape,” Iris said icily. “What’s more, you managed to kill a Government agent in the process. Unforgivable.”
Rothenberg glared. “Jack? He was sheltering the kids! He was helping them!”
“Then he would have made a valuable prisoner,” Iris said, “and your failure is even more inexcusable.”
Rothenberg went very still as he seethed, staring up at her. Iris merely regarded him as if he were a mess on the sidewalk. Suddenly the man lunged at her, hands outstretched—
Thwak!
Iris’ staff caught him in the temple, and Rothenberg crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Disgusted, Iris turned and began walking back to her helicopter.
“Take him into custody,” she told the soldiers. “Lock him up again.”
* * *
Cross ducked as one of Umasi’s blades passed over his head, then tried to thrust his knife forward. The attack was parried by Umasi’s shorter blade and Cross was forced to leap back to avoid a counterthrust from the longer one. Cross gritted his teeth in frustration. Umasi’s style of using the broken blade for defense and the longer one for attack was very effective against his knife.
Cross and Umasi were fighting next to the swings that Cross had played on as a child. From the left Cross could see Takan running to help—he’d been knocked to the ground for a few precious seconds. Before the Truant could get close, Umasi kicked the swing next to him. The swing flew up and struck Takan in the face, knocking him back painfully.
“This isn’t you, Umasi!” Takan shouted, clutching his face.
“You’ve never really known me, Tack,” Umasi replied. “I always kept you at a distance because of Edward’s betrayal.”