Truancy City

by Isamu Fukui

  Umasi freed his broken sword just in time to avoid being pulled forward into the river. He jumped forward. Instead of aiming at him, the albino swung her chain low at the pillar next to him. The chain caught onto the pillar, causing the end to swing around.

  Before Umasi realized what was happening, the chain struck him from the back just as he landed on the pillar in front of the albino. He stumbled forward, swords outstretched, and the albino reflexively jumped out of the way—but her chain had wrapped fully around the pillar, and when she made her leap she found it had gone taut.

  Both combatants plunged into the water. Great splashes followed by ripples disturbed the moon on the black surface. Using her chain, the albino pulled herself up first. She sat atop the pillar, panting, then spotted Umasi still shivering in the river.

  The water wasn’t that cold, she thought. It seemed almost as though Umasi was reliving something from his past. Smiling now, she lightly tossed him her chain. He looked up at her in surprise, then allowed her to pull him up.

  The two old friends soon found themselves sitting back to back on the tiny surface of the pillar, their legs off the side. There was perfect silence between them as they paddled at the water with their feet. The fight, the albino felt, had been more like a dance rather than a serious attempt to kill. Neither of them had really wanted to harm the other.

  They remained like that for hours, watching the moon travel through the sky overhead. During that fleeting time, the albino felt at peace with the world and the warmth at her back. Then the first rays of sunrise began to peek over the horizon.

  “Now that was the greeting I was looking for,” the albino murmured, finding her voice soft with disuse. “It feels like old times again.”

  “A tie this time—that part is new.” Umasi sighed. “You know, I think I was happier back then, living a simple life in District 19. I miss it.”

  “Why not go back to it?” the albino asked. “Walk away from this conflict. You’re not meant to be a warrior, Umasi.”

  Umasi shook his head sadly.

  “I believe in Iris, milady,” he told her. “She’s the only blood relation I have now.”

  The albino sighed. She glanced at the sunrise, realizing now that the time had finally come. For four years she had kept this secret. She could now keep it no longer. The albino felt a heavy weight lift from her chest as she spoke.

  “That’s not quite true,” she told him. “You have a son. I named him Zen.”

  * * *

  Takan took a sip of beer from his latest bottle—foul stuff, something cheap meant for deli shelves. He was sitting on a large wooden crate that had been used to package the beer he was now working his way through. A small part of Takan’s conscience nagged that he was developing a bit of a drinking problem, but he ignored it. After the previous night it was impossible to stay sober.

  Takan felt both impossibly tired and unable to rest. The battle and subsequent escape had been exhausting, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t take his mind off Cross’ loss. Dragging the grieving student through the sewers beneath ten districts had reminded Takan of losing his sister two years earlier. Neither of them had emerged in a good mood.

  The bottle empty, Takan tossed it aside. He reached down into the open side of the crate and pulled out another. The beer was warm and pretty bad at that, but he wasn’t very picky. His thoughts grew more muddled with each gulp, and all he wanted was to muddle them more.

  They had traveled through the sewers and rendezvoused as planned in a hideout in District 29, an old shipping warehouse. Shortly after making sure Cross would be okay, Takan had excused himself. It was in a dark corner of the warehouse that Takan had discovered the providential crate of beer.

  He had heard Sepp’s group arrive just minutes earlier. Takan knew that was only going to mean more grief. Cross might’ve been too dense to see it, but Takan could tell by the way Sepp acted that he had also had a thing for Floe. Takan wasn’t sure how he would handle two depressed students moping around.

  Takan finished his latest bottle and tossed it aside. It hit the wall and shattered. He reached down for another, determined to keep going until he finally passed out.

  Through the alcoholic haze he became aware of a dark shape in front of him. In a flash it had knocked the bottle from his hand. Instinctively Takan reached for his sword. Then he looked up and saw her face.

  “You’re pathetic,” Noni said.

  Takan blinked up at the girl, who was glaring down at him distastefully.

  “This beer is worse than I thought,” Takan murmured. “I’m seeing Noni here in a gray uniform. That’s pretty wild.”

  Noni rapped him on the head, hard enough to convince him she was real.

  “I was locked up in that camp, Takan,” she told him. “I’d wondered if you came for me—guess that was too much to hope for.”

  Takan massaged his head. “Why are you here, Noni?”

  “I just arrived with Sepp’s group,” Noni replied. “I came to see a boy I thought I liked, but it seems that he’s let himself become a mess.”

  Takan sighed. “Noni, you have no idea what I’ve gone—”

  “No, you have no idea what I’ve gone through,” Noni snarled. “You don’t see me running from my problems like this, do you?”

  Takan slumped over on his crate.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m glad to see you again. Are you with us now?”

  “I suppose.” Noni folded her arms. “Your rebellion offers the best chance for me to get my revenge on the Government, on their leader, and on that new Mayor.”

  Takan stirred at that, remembering how Umasi had told him he’d kept Takan’s secret. Feeling a sudden urge to reveal everything, to end the charade and damn the consequences, Takan opened his mouth.

  “Noni, the Mayor wasn’t the one who killed Zyid—”

  “This isn’t all about Zyid,” Noni interrupted. “There are other things I need to pay the Mayor back for. I’m in this for myself.”

  Takan watched broodingly as she turned and left. For several moments he lingered on top of the crate, wavering. Then he sighed and reached down for another bottle.

  * * *

  “Not even a body to bury,” Sepp rasped.

  Cross nodded weakly. He was unable to speak.

  For Sepp and Cross it felt like a private funeral, shared just between the two of them. There had never been enough time or much desire to mourn Joe—but with Floe’s death they realized they were the last members of their unit left alive. The two survivors sat miserably in the central part of the warehouse, surrounded by enormous metal shelves that were mostly bare.

  All around them the other escapees and rebels milled about. They chatted, they ate whatever supplies were on hand, and they rested anywhere they could. Beyond one of the shelves Cross caught a glimpse of Noni pacing around looking restless. For them this was a mild celebration. They were free and alive, and the camp left in pieces.

  No one had seen or heard anything from the albino. Cross hoped that she had survived. If she died right after he’d lost Floe, he wasn’t sure how he would cope.

  Cross blinked hot tears from his eyes. Floe’s death was like a physical hole in his chest—at times it felt numb and empty, and at others it burned with so much pain that he imagined death would be preferable. As much as he wanted to keel over and give up, there was no time to break down. Someone had to take charge, and Takan had vanished shortly after their arrival. In the back of his mind Cross was grateful that Takan had brought him this far, but at the same time he wondered if the Truant should’ve bothered.

  Sepp began sobbing, a horrible hiccupping sound. The expression on his face was truly tormented. The boy looked like he was in more pain than Cross himself.

  Cross came to a realization. “You loved her too, didn’t you?”

  Sepp stared at him with red eyes. Then he looked down and nodded.

  “I’m sorry, Cross,” he said. “I didn’t think there was any
thing between you. We were together, we liked each other … things just happened.”

  Cross’ first instinct was to be angry and jealous, to ask what they had done together, to demand to know why Sepp had allowed Floe to be captured. Then he remembered that it had been he who had ordered Sepp to follow her in the first place, and all of his anger turned inwards.

  “It’s okay, Sepp.” Cross shook his head. “This whole mess was all my fault anyway.”

  There it was, the haunting thought that his mind kept circling around to. The second Floe’s death had finally sunk in, the doubt and guilt had begun. If Cross had never loved Floe, she would have gone with the other escapees. If Cross had made her go first, perhaps he would’ve been the one Iris killed. If Cross had listened to Takan when he warned that the mission was too dangerous, at least she would be alive.

  “I hate them.” Sepp’s eyes were wide. “I’ve never hated anyone in my life before—I really hate them.”

  “The Government?”

  Sepp wasn’t listening.

  “My parents didn’t deserve to be jailed,” he continued. “Who’s going to take care of my sister? And now they killed Floe.” He clenched his fists. “I hate them. I want to destroy the Government. I want to destroy them all!”

  Even Cross, in the midst of his own grief, was taken aback by the venom in Sepp’s voice. The boy seemed on the verge of madness as he stared at Cross.

  “Cross,” Sepp said, as though just noticing him. “I’ve got nothing left. I just want to bring down the Government. Can it be done?”

  Cross nodded. He’d been thinking about it all night, as he’d relived the moment of Floe’s death over and over. Floe had been innocent, reluctant to escape, refusing to fight. She didn’t deserve to die, and yet Iris had shot her down anyway. Iris, a woman Cross barely knew, had become a monster in his mind. The Government, he swore, would pay.

  “What are we going to do?” Sepp demanded. “Tell me how we’re going to destroy them, Cross.”

  Cross waved his arm around at all the new recruits in the warehouse.

  “We’re already started,” he replied. “We’ve got a lot more manpower now. We’ve found powerful allies. We’ve liberated a camp, and proven that the Government is not invincible.”

  “So what’s next? Where do we go from here?”

  Cross smiled grimly. “First we’re going to make sure that word of this escape spreads all over the City and into all the other camps. Then, with our new strength, we’re going to become the Government’s worst nightmare.”

  “I’m with you,” Sepp said solemnly. “Let’s avenge her together.”

  “The Government will regret ever stepping into our City,” Cross agreed. “We’re going to finish this once and for all.”

  * * *

  The streets of District 13 passed by in a blur as Umasi and the albino walked along. They had no destination in mind, no goal other than to collect their thoughts. Neither of them spoke, and the silence only grew tenser with each step. The albino could sense the anger in Umasi’s body language. That was expected—and justified, she knew.

  As they crossed an empty intersection Umasi finally spoke. His voice was bitter and harsh.

  “I never thought you were capable of cruelty like this, milady.”

  “I thought you’d like the name. You did mention once that you preferred your brother’s name to yours.”

  “You know what I’m talking about. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  The albino lowered her gaze, a rare display of supplication.

  “I admit I … may have made a mistake,” she conceded. “At the time, I thought it would be a poor thing to do to show up after nine months and surprise you with a burden like that.”

  “It would’ve been better than showing up four years later and surprising me with it now!”

  “I know, and I regret it.” The albino shook her head. “I kept telling myself we would come see you one day, but I was too stubborn, too proud. Would you have wanted to be a part of his life?”

  “Of course I would have!” Umasi glared at her. “I would’ve done everything I could to help. How did you manage anyway, all on your own?”

  “I’m surprised you have to ask. You were the one who slipped me that card to an account with an obscene amount of money.”

  Umasi shut his jaw as he remembered that he had done just that.

  “That’s the reason why I never gave it back,” the albino continued. “I would have returned it otherwise. You know I—”

  “You betrayed my trust, milady.” There was pain in Umasi’s voice that tugged at the albino’s heart. “I’ve been living a lie for all these years. Your lie.”

  Abruptly he took a turn into a dark alley. The albino followed suit. There in the shadows they paused, leaning against the walls as the sun rose in the streets around them. Neither of them was dripping anymore, though both were still damp from the river. They looked at each other, dark eyes meeting pale blue.

  “How did it happen, anyway?” Umasi asked.

  The albino tilted her head. “You ought to know—or were you really so feverish that you didn’t remember anything?”

  Umasi frowned. “So it was real after all. I’d convinced myself it wasn’t. I thought it must’ve been a hallucination or a dream.”

  The albino brought her hand to her mouth and chuckled.

  “You’re still naïve as ever,” she said. “I always liked that about you.”

  “You won’t win my forgiveness with flattery, milady.”

  “Is that so?” The albino licked her lips. “I’ve already apologized, Mr. Mayor. How else can I make it up to you?”

  Slowly she splayed herself against the wall of the alley, fingers curled, hands pressed to the bricks on either side of her head. Her white garments were translucent from the damp, clinging tightly to her body. Her ivory skin glistened even in the gloom, and wet locks of her white hair stuck to her face. The albino knew that not everyone found her attractive—but for Umasi, who always had, the effect was immediate. She could see his breath quicken as he looked at her.

  Umasi let out an exasperated hiss. “You’re more manipulative than I ever gave you credit for.”

  “Oh, I am capable of naughtiness, once in a while.” She grinned invitingly. “Shall we make that our secret?”

  For a moment Umasi seemed to fight a battle with himself. Then, giving in, he stepped forward and pressed his body against hers. It was difficult and messy, but as passionate as their circumstances allowed. The sun continued to rise overhead until for a few fleeting moments the shadows themselves fled from the alley.

  Afterwards, the two rearranged their clothes and sat side by side. Neither of them looked at each other.

  Umasi was the first to speak.

  “I suppose you’ll want me to forgive you now.”

  The albino blinked as though surprised. “I’ve never asked for your forgiveness, Umasi.”

  Umasi sighed. “What are you asking for, then?”

  “I told you before—I’m here to convince you to stop fighting.” The albino turned to glance at him. “I want you to take Zen and leave the City. As Mayor, that much should be within your power.”

  “I had a feeling you’d say that. I don’t seem to have much of a choice, do I?”

  “This is your chance to be a father,” the albino replied. “This is your chance to do something truly productive with your new power.”

  “And what will you do?” Umasi asked. “I can probably persuade the Government to make an exception for someone as young as Zen, but they may not look so favorably upon you. They are very serious about their quarantine.”

  “I had a feeling that would be the case,” she said. “But if I know that Zen will be safe, I can be satisfied sharing the fate of the City. If there is any chance that I can make this a place he can return to, I will try.”

  Umasi sighed and stood up. “Meet me at the docks with Zen one week from now. I will talk to Iris and see what can be done.”
He glanced down at her. “You win again, milady.”

  The albino smiled up at him. “You never had a chance.”

  30

  IN DREAMS

  It was a tumultuous time for the City. A week of destabilizing events once again plunged the streets into chaos.

  Despite the best efforts of the Government, rebel agents spread news of the liberation of the District 13 camp all over the City. Riots broke out in three separate camps before being brutally suppressed. With each passing day the supply shortage grew more dire for increasing numbers of citizens, none of whom placed much faith anymore in the Government’s promises of food and stability.

  Meanwhile, what had come to be known as the Citizens’ Rebellion continued to grow in size and support. Government troops could no longer count on the cooperation of the populace. Adults, including former Enforcers, flocked to the rebellion’s banner in droves. Forgotten was the old Truancy’s symbol of a T within a circle—now there was only the circle, with its bottom right quarter removed to form a C. This new sigil could be found spray painted on streets throughout the City.

  Pockets of independent resistance sprouted up everywhere, seemingly overnight. Attacks against Government patrols and even small outposts were now commonplace. Rockets began to fall into military bases on a regular basis. If the City were a living, breathing organism, then it had surely turned against its Government master.

  All of the fighting seemed to mirror the chaos in Umasi’s mind as he lay on the small bed in the room that had been his as a child. Alone in the gloom, he looked around, his eyes flitting over familiar objects. They paused upon reaching his brother’s old bed, empty now. Umasi sighed. There were a lot of memories in this room—leftovers from a simpler time.

  “What should I do?” he wondered aloud.

  The next day he was scheduled to meet with the albino and his son at the docks, as promised. He was already fully resolved to do what he could for the boy, and had no time to contemplate what meeting him would be like. Right now Umasi was concerned about the fate of the City, newly plunged into war, and about Iris, the sister who even now was struggling to maintain order in the City.