Truancy City

by Isamu Fukui

  “But—”

  “She’s more of a match than we are, Cross,” Takan said. “And she knows him better than either of us. It’s the obvious choice.”

  Cross stared at the albino. “Teacher, do you really want to get involved?”

  “Where that boy is concerned, I’m already involved.” She smiled sadly. “I won’t be fighting your war, Cross. I will come along and deal with Umasi if it comes to that—but only with Umasi.”

  Takan cleared his throat. “You’re absolutely sure, Two?”

  She nodded.

  “I guess that settles it,” Cross said reluctantly. He couldn’t help but feel that something was going on here that he didn’t understand.

  Sepp stirred, emerging from his gloom to ask a question. “Cross, you said you had a plan to cause chaos inside the camp?”

  “Oh, right. That.” Cross smiled. “It’s a risky plan, so obviously I’m going to carry it out myself.”

  Takan raised both eyebrows. “Now you’ve got me curious.”

  “Well.” Cross straightened up. “It starts with me giving the Government a little of what they want…”

  * * *

  Ferraro leaned back in his chair, surveying his favorite project from across his desk.

  “I must say, Noni, your progress has been better than I expected,” he said. “It’s only been a few days since Obeita took you back to class, and already she’s praising me to all the other teachers.”

  Noni smiled, as he had taught her to do. “I’m very glad, sir.”

  Ferraro smiled, admiring his work. They were meeting in his office for Noni’s daily treatment, and the change was truly stunning. Noni now held his gaze without hatred, and there were no bindings on her chair. Her pose was upright and attentive. The gray skirt and jacket of her uniform were immaculate and crisp. Her hair had been combed nicely and tied into a ponytail. Her various wounds had healed, and save for the one permanent scar, she was quite pretty, like a doll.

  Ferraro felt an immense satisfaction sweep over him. Noni looked every bit the model student he was making her.

  “Now, I was hoping we could pick up where we left off last time.” Ferraro picked up a clipboard. “Will you answer a few questions, Noni? For extra credit?”

  “Of course. My studies are everything.”

  “Good, good.” Ferraro took a deep breath. “I was hoping that you would, er, tell me about your mother.”

  Noni stirred, and Ferraro cringed reflexively. That question had always provoked a violent response in the past. This time, however, Noni simply nodded her head.

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “What would you like to know?”

  Ferraro grinned in triumph. “What do you remember about her?”

  “She would get angry a lot,” Noni replied. “She was often drunk and didn’t like cleaning the house. I remember the apartment being filthy.”

  “Did she ever hit you?”

  “Yes, many times,” Noni said calmly. “Usually with her hands, though twice she used a belt, three times she used a board, and on ten occasions I can remember she threw various—”

  “That’s enough, Noni.” Ferraro scribbled on his clipboard. “Now, was all of this why you ran away from home?”

  “I’m not sure. I think my mother left the door ajar, and I was hungry, so I opened it looking for food,” Noni said. “I … I remember seeing the hallway for the first time, thinking it was huge. I felt frightened but curious. I started walking and didn’t stop.”

  Ferraro nodded in satisfaction. Noni’s composure had held throughout the entire recollection. The expression on her face and her tone of voice had not changed a bit.

  “I want you to know that I’m very proud of you, Noni,” Ferraro said. “Ms. Obeita tells me that you’re number three in her class and climbing. If you keep it up, I’ll be able to present you to my peers as a case study.”

  Noni smiled again, as per her programming. “I’m very glad, sir.”

  “So,” Ferraro set his clipboard aside, “how are your studies going, Noni?”

  “My studies are everything.”

  Ferraro smiled. “But I thought you were a rebel?”

  “I was wrong,” Noni said simply. “I’m sorry for misbehaving—my studies are everything.”

  “Indeed, they are.” Ferraro reached for a syringe. “Now, Noni, don’t you think it’s time for another dose? You wouldn’t want to relapse into old habits.”

  “Yes, sir,” Noni said, holding her arm out compliantly. “Thank you, sir.”

  * * *

  Iris stood in front of the bright monitor, trying to control her increasingly dark mood. The lights in her study had been switched off, leaving everything in shadow. There was only her and the elderly man on the screen—her father’s War Minister, whose every word was only making her more frustrated.

  “Listen to me, Minister,” Iris said, losing her patience. “The situation here gets more desperate by the hour, it is our responsibility to take care of the people!”

  “The Education City is still considered a combat zone,” the Minister said. “I’m sorry, General, but the regulations are clear and my hands are tied. I simply cannot put civilian workers at risk by sending them into a bloodbath!”

  “Then just give me the supplies, I’ll have my soldiers carry out the effort!”

  The Minister raised an eyebrow. “With all due respect, General, do you really have the men to spare for that?”

  Iris clenched her fists. She had fought tooth and nail to get every soldier she could for this operation, and had warned she would need more. No one knew that better than this man, and yet he sought to rub in the fact.

  “The longer there is discontent in the streets, the stronger the resistance here will become!” Iris said through gritted teeth. “If I cannot have additional troops to break the holdouts, I will need those relief supplies!”

  “General.” The Minister sighed. “I sympathize, I really do, but you knew the conditions that were set before you accepted this assignment. If you are unable to pacify that City, then your father will—”

  “It will not come to that!” Iris slammed her fist on the console. “I will save this City no matter what it takes; I just need you to give me what it takes!”

  “You know very well that the bulk of our manpower is already occupied,” the Minister said. “It was hard enough to get you the battalions you have.”

  “Dammit, I— we promised security for these people!” Iris said. “If we cannot deliver on that most basic obligation, we will lose their trust. The resistance will continue, and then…”

  “I’m sorry, General, that’s something you might just have to accept.” The War Minister shrugged. “So long as there is fighting on the ground there’s nothing I can do to help you. It may well be that there won’t be a happy ending for that City.”

  “I won’t accept that!” Iris gritted her teeth. “I’ll be talking to my father about this.”

  The Minister shook his head. “Again, with due respect, General, I think you already know what outcome he’d prefer.”

  With a snarl of frustration, Iris shut off the monitor. The room went completely dark, and she realized she wasn’t alone. Scolding herself for not noticing his presence before, Iris turned to address Umasi, who was standing in the doorway.

  “What’s the latest?” she asked.

  She did not ask how long he’d been listening in on her conversation, nor did he act like he ever was. It was an unspoken rule between them that business with the Government would be left to her. Even Iris found it hard to tell what Umasi was thinking behind those sunglasses, but this time she thought she could sense sympathy from him.

  “More attacks in the deep City,” Umasi said. “This alliance between the Truancy and the Student Militia seems to be gaining traction. There are reports that they’ve acquired the sympathy of some of those discontented adults.”

  Iris let out a noise of frustration and plunked down into her chair. “Why, Umasi? Why
won’t they let me help them?”

  Umasi rubbed his leg where the knife wound Takan inflicted had healed over.

  “They’re stubborn by nature,” he said, “and they seem to doubt that you truly intend to help them. I still believe that using Rothenberg was a mistake.”

  “He served his purpose, he won’t be released again.” Iris shook her head. “Those children have no idea what they’re doing. No one will be helped by their actions—so many might die because of them.”

  “I know their type, Iris,” Umasi said quietly. “Our brother was the same way. His stubbornness drove him to destroy himself.”

  “And now their stubbornness may destroy this City.”

  Umasi looked like he was about to reply when suddenly he held his hand up to his ear. Iris realized he must be listening to a message coming in through the earpiece that he’d worn ever since assuming the office of Mayor. Whatever he heard seemed to have an effect on him, for he turned to leave Iris’ study.

  Iris sat up in her chair. “What’s happened?”

  “Apparently, one of the rebel leaders claims to want to surrender,” Umasi said. “I’m going to go see what he has to say. I’ve met the boy before, I can handle this.”

  “Umasi.” Iris frowned. “Are you sure you want to—”

  “I’m just doing what I should’ve done four years ago,” Umasi said. “Don’t trouble yourself over this trivial matter, sister. None of this is your fault. If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine.”

  * * *

  Cross sat patiently in his chair. Pretty much everyone else had told him this was a bad idea. They might have been right, but he didn’t regret going through with it. Floe’s capture had affected him more than he would admit.

  During his time with the Militia, Cross had been too confused and too isolated to let anything develop between him and Floe. He regretted that, so much that it pained him to think about it. But that wasn’t the only reason he was here now. The fact that she had been captured for following his orders made him responsible—and Cross decided that no matter what happened, his fate would be the same as hers.

  Overhead the dull lamp creaked as it swayed. Cross frowned and turned to one of the soldiers standing in the corners.

  “Will it take much longer?” he asked.

  There was no reply but stony silence. Cross sighed. He had turned himself in at the Government base in District 32, far enough from headquarters to throw them off. After a thorough search, they had made him wait in this interrogation room. Two soldiers stood on either side of him, and more, he knew, were watching unseen. His legs and arms had been shackled. The Government was taking no chances with him.

  Sepp had volunteered to come too, and sulked when Cross pointed out that it would only arouse suspicion. The boy had become reckless and brooding, and Cross couldn’t figure out why. It was almost as though his failure to protect Floe and his family had turned Sepp’s personality inside out. Cross sensed there was something that Sepp wasn’t telling him, but he couldn’t think of how to broach the subject. Cross shook his head. No time for that now.

  Finally, the door swung open, and Cross blinked at the light from the hallway. A dark figure stepped inside, its eyes shielded with sunglasses. The door shut with a clang, and the Mayor took a seat in front of Cross.

  “Mr. Mayor,” Cross greeted. “It’s nice to see you again. I’m a little surprised—I requested to see your master Iris instead.”

  In truth Cross hadn’t expected Iris to come herself. At least he was important enough to warrant a visit from her stooge.

  “I’ve got to say,” Cross continued, gesturing around with his cuffed hands. “I’m flattered by all this security.”

  “What do you want, Cross?” Umasi didn’t seem interested in small talk.

  “To turn myself in.”

  Umasi looked him up and down from behind those dark glasses. Cross decided that being scrutinized by an unseen gaze definitely had an unsettling effect.

  “I can see that,” Umasi said. “Why?”

  Cross decided to tell the truth.

  “I heard that the Government captured a student,” Cross said. “Someone I care about very much. More than myself.”

  His words seemed to have an effect on the Mayor. He stirred.

  “If your intention was to negotiate an exchange, I’m afraid it’s impossible,” Umasi said. “I cannot release a student from the camps for any—”

  “I know all that,” Cross said. “I’m willing to go to your camps. I don’t care what happens to me. I don’t care about the war, or the resistance, or the Government—those were all other people’s ideas I just went along with.”

  Cross held his breath. It was crucial that the Mayor accept that lie. He knew that it was consistent with what the Government thought of him.

  Umasi nodded.

  “What exactly are you asking for, then?” he asked.

  “I want to be put in the same camp and class as a student named Floe,” Cross said, allowing emotion that was not entirely fake into his voice. “I want to be there for her.”

  The Mayor sat up straighter in his chair, stroking his chin. Cross could tell he was considering it. There followed several tense moments of silence.

  “And what will you do for us in return?” Umasi asked finally.

  Cross blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  “If I arrange this for you,” Umasi said. “If I have you assigned to the same class as your girlfriend, what will you do for us in return?”

  “My surrender isn’t enough?”

  “Of course not,” Umasi replied. “You’ve already given us that.”

  Cross felt irked that the Mayor was audacious enough to demand more from him. Fortunately he had come with more cards to play.

  “I’ll tell you everything I know.” Cross feigned reluctance. “All of the rebellion’s cells that I know of. Their plans. Everything.”

  Umasi seemed to size him up for a few more seconds. Then he nodded.

  “We have a deal, then,” he said, turning to one of the soldiers. “Have him shipped off to District 13 under heavy guard. Take a long route. Place him immediately into the intensive program there.”

  “As you wish, Mr. Mayor.”

  “I’ve upheld my part of our deal.” Umasi stood up and looked down at Cross. “Once you arrive and see the truth of that, I expect you to do the same in good faith. I’ll be there to see you tomorrow.”

  Cross nodded in response. As Umasi turned and left the interrogation room, Cross hid a smile. If it wasn’t all a trick on Umasi’s part, then he had just succeeded in outsmarting the Mayor himself.

  27

  LIBERATION

  Takan took a swig of water from his bottle, grimacing as the harsh taste of minerals washed down his throat, too much like blood.

  “Are you thirsty?” Takan asked, looking sideways at his companion.

  A few feet away on the edge of the rooftop, the nameless albino turned to smile at him.

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied.

  Takan screwed the cap back on the bottle and tossed it to her. She caught it with both hands, then tilted her head back and took a deep drink.

  The two of them waited now on top of an old abandoned apartment building in District 13. The sun was just beginning to set. Takan’s brown trench coat lay at his feet—the air was too hot and humid to wear it. The albino had kept her tattered Student Militia jacket, though Takan noted that she now wore it buttoned around her neck like a mantle.

  “You don’t think Cross will succeed, do you?” she said.

  Takan snorted. “I think he’s a lovesick fool for even trying it.”

  “He can be reckless sometimes,” she admitted, gazing out off the roof. “But I think he knows what he’s doing—whether he knows it or not, if that makes any sense.”

  “I just hope this isn’t for nothing,” Takan said. “We had a hell of a time just getting in position here.”

  The albino nodded at that. The military�
��s aerial surveillance had forced them to travel through the old subway systems. They’d arrived in staggered groups to avoid the Government’s patrols in the area. The building their fifty fighters had bunked down in was actually a former Truancy hideout. District 13 had been abandoned for as long as Takan could remember, making it an easy place to vanish.

  “If you manage to liberate at least some of the students there,” the albino said, “this could be a turning point in the war. The other camps will surely hear of it. Hope will return to the City.”

  “What can I say?” Takan shrugged. “I hope you’re right. I just don’t share your optimism.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Takan, leader of the Truancy,” she teased.

  Takan laughed. “You’re right. It sounds more like Tack, bitter and jaded student of the City.”

  “And which are you?” The albino replaced the cap on the bottle and threw it back at him.

  Takan caught the water, frowned at it, then took a sip and shuddered.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I never meant for Takan to exist longer than Zyid. Sometimes I wish I’d had just accepted my sister’s death. Just turned around and went home rather than coming … here.” Takan blinked and looked around the dirty rooftop. “Come to think of it, this is the hideout where I first became a member of the Truancy. They found me on the docks when I was at my worst.”

  The albino looked around with renewed interest. There was soot and what looked like scorch marks on the rooftop, along with some old bullet holes.

  “It seems like this place has a lot of history,” she remarked. “There were bullet holes in the stairway when we came up here, and the glass on the front doors looked like they’d been deliberately broken.”

  Takan nodded. “The building was in poor shape when I first came here. I think the Truancy must have evacuated it once before my time.”

  A warm breeze swept over the rooftop. Takan looked up at the navy blue sky. They were out of earshot of the misery of the camps. From where they sat now, it seemed almost peaceful in District 13.

  “How did you first meet Umasi?” the albino asked, still gazing off the roof.

  “When I was still a student, I was chased by some bullies into District 19,” Takan replied. “I started making regular visits, and he taught me everything I know. What about you?”