Truancy City

by Isamu Fukui

  And yet Takan had not been as strong as his predecessor, in the end. He had not been able to fight Noni, to allow her to have her revenge. She had spared his life, and now they both faced an uncertain future, the world around them changed.

  They continued to embrace even as Government transport helicopters droned overhead, heading away from the district, away from the City. The gunshots and explosions grew steadily fainter—and Noni’s sobs along with them. The conflict was dying down.

  Finally, Takan pulled away, and Noni did not protest.

  “Noni,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I promise we can talk about this more later, and … whatever you want in the end, you can have it.”

  Noni said nothing, but looked away.

  “We don’t have much time. The Mayoral Mansion isn’t far,” Takan continued. “Cross will need our help—if you don’t want to kill me anymore, that is.”

  Noni sniffed and stood up, sheathing her knives.

  “It’s still a possibility,” she said.

  * * *

  It was just a house, yet somehow, as they drew closer, the Mayoral Mansion loomed larger than life to Cross. It was an old-fashioned building that took up the entire block, with an empty square left in front of it.

  Cross imagined that for a Truant the building would have represented different things; the seat of power in the City, the place where the last Mayor had hatched his schemes to control the populace. For Cross, however, the Mayoral Mansion held a simpler significance: the location of his enemy.

  “Look, up there!” the albino said suddenly, taking one hand off the steering wheel to point up at the sky.

  Cross peered through the windshield and saw several dark shapes far overhead. Government transport helicopters, probably packed with troops. There was nothing shocking about that, except they seemed to be flying away from District 1.

  “What are they doing?” Cross wondered.

  The albino bit her lip. “If I had to guess, I’d say they were withdrawing.”

  “Could we be too late?” Cross frowned. “If they’re fleeing the district then Iris might be gone already.”

  “Well, we’ll find out soon. The Mayoral Mansion is just ahead.” The albino nodded out the windshield. “You should be proud Cross—even if Iris escaped, this is a victory. The Government is fleeing the heart of the City.”

  Cross shook his head. “It’s not a victory yet. The battle is still ongoing, and it’ll all have been for nothing if we can’t get their General.”

  As they drove into the empty square in front of the Mayoral Mansion, they could hear explosions and gunshots still going off in other parts of the district, though less intensely than before. The two citizens cautiously slipped out of their stolen vehicle and looked around.

  There were sandbags piled up here and there, along with random equipment scattered on the ground. Yet the square was completely deserted. There wasn’t a soldier in sight.

  “Maybe they all got out already?” Cross wondered. “Or maybe it’s a trap—Iris might be plotting something.”

  “Perhaps we should try asking her ourselves,” the albino suggested. “We’ve come this far. It would be a waste not to check the Mansion.”

  Cross nodded and raised his rifle. They approached the awning over the front doors to the Mayoral Mansion. In better days Cross imagined that there would have been a doorman waiting there. Now there was no one to greet them.

  The foyer was dark, and Cross felt his heart beating in his throat as he stepped into the main antechamber. At any moment he expected to trip a mine or find soldiers surrounding them, but there was nothing. It was inexplicable.

  They stepped into a living room and found the lights still on, paraphernalia strewn around the room, as though whoever had evacuated had been in such a hurry that everything had been left as it was. There were monitors and computer equipment set up in here. Cross was about to give up hope and accept that Iris had escaped when the albino spoke up.

  “Look!” She pointed at a screen. “Someone is still giving orders from this building.”

  Sure enough, commands were flashing across the screen and channels of communication seemed to be open. Cross felt his heart beat faster.

  “It’s Iris.”

  “Or maybe we’re just meant to think that,” the albino cautioned. “It could still be a trap.”

  With that in mind, they proceeded through a series of empty, lavish rooms, some with military equipment scattered throughout. Cross saw no weapons around, though he still had his rifle.

  Then they entered a grand dining room with a long banquet table, bare now. At the far end of the room, two staircases on either side curved upwards to reach a balcony where archways provided access to the second floor. Doors on the ground floor indicated rooms yet to be explored.

  “Let’s split up,” the albino suggested in a whisper. “It’ll be easier. I’ll search the top floors, you handle the ground level.”

  Cross wanted to protest, but the suggestion made sense. Reluctantly, he nodded.

  “Be careful, teacher,” Cross said.

  The albino smiled and nodded, then headed for the closer stairs. Cross took a deep breath and held his rifle steady as he proceeded farther into the mansion. Somehow, he felt sure that somewhere in this building Iris was waiting for them.

  * * *

  Rothenberg’s grin grew wider as yet another explosion rang out in the distance. He was sitting hunched on his cot, excitement pulsing in his veins. He had been eagerly listening to the sounds of the battle ever since the first enormous tremors had shaken him awake.

  “What’re you so happy about, Rothenberg?”

  In the cell across from the former Enforcer, Max was lying on his cot with his hands under his head, looking totally unconcerned by the ongoing chaos outside.

  “You little idiot, can’t you hear that the City is burning?” Rothenberg laughed. “You see what happens to this world without me around? It was just the same when the Mayor locked me up!”

  There was a flash from outside the barred windows, and another blast shook the building. Rothenberg glanced up at the ceiling, where some dust had shaken loose. The prison had held so far, but it was old. Rothenberg hoped it would stay intact long enough for him to see the aftermath of the battle. When the dust settled, he was sure that they would come crawling back to him for help, as they always did.

  Max laughed. “Rothenberg, you know you’re going to die here.”

  “I know nothing of the sort,” Rothenberg snapped. “But if anyone here has to die I’ll make sure you go first.”

  “Great, maybe we can have side-by-side cells in the afterlife too!”

  Max laughed again, and Rothenberg tuned the kid out, which he had become good at. Instead, Rothenberg strained to hear each bomb blast, each distant gunshot. He amused himself with thoughts of the Truancy and the Government tearing each other apart. He wondered if Cross was out there with them.

  “Don’t die just yet, boy,” Rothenberg muttered. “We’ve got unfinished business, you and I.”

  More flashes went off outside, easily visible through the windows. Rothenberg even thought he could hear the screaming of young voices. How appropriate, he thought, that all his enemies would fight among themselves. They truly deserved each other.

  Just then Rothenberg’s thoughts were interrupted by another blast, closer than any of the others. There was a crumbling sound. Rothenberg caught a glimpse of falling bricks, and then everything went black.

  * * *

  A light flashed on the monitor once again. Iris spared it a passing glance before turning her chair away. The War Minister was being irritatingly obstinate in his attempts to contact her.

  To her surprise she heard a beep as though the call had been accepted. The connection had been forced through. Iris frowned. That should have been impossible. She spun around, ready to scold the man—

  “What do you think you are doing, my dear daughter?”

  Iris swallo
wed her surprise. The image on the screen was grainy and full of static, and the face was no more than a silhouette. The voice, however, belonged unmistakably to her father.

  “I am trying to carry out my mission,” Iris said calmly. “Now perhaps you can tell me why my troops are pulling out of the City without my command?”

  The image onscreen inclined its head. “I ordered the withdrawal myself.”

  Iris clenched her fists.

  “Why would you allow me to come here at all if you were just going to sabotage my efforts?” she demanded. “You know that I could take control of the situation if I had more time and resources, but at every step you have been completely—”

  “Iris, my dearest daughter,” the voice interrupted lazily. “You were sent to that City to fail.”

  Iris shut her mouth. There it was, the obvious conclusion that she had for so long struggled to avoid.

  “Why?”

  “To teach you a lesson.” The image stirred. “You were so childishly obstinate about the matter that it seemed like a good opportunity for you to learn the limits of your own abilities.”

  “This whole thing was a game for you?”

  “Little more than that. I never intended to allow any of my progeny to become a warlord of their own little kingdom. You were naïve to believe otherwise.”

  Iris glared. “And the City?”

  “Is beyond recovery. It is high time that you accepted that fact.” The image leaned back. “You will leave the City immediately.”

  “No.”

  Silence.

  “What did you just say to me?”

  “I said I refuse.” Iris smiled. “If you wish to proceed with this madness, then your daughter will be caught up in it as well.”

  “Do not be a fool,” the Potentate growled. “If you continue to disobey me, you will be disinherit—”

  Iris laughed, long and hard. The image onscreen fell silent.

  “You’ve misjudged me, father,” Iris said at last. “I’ve never cared a bit about inheritance. I’m staying right where I am.”

  The image flickered.

  “Enough of this childishness! If you will not come willingly, you will be relieved of command and soldiers will be sent to retrieve you!”

  “But as your withdrawal continues, I am left completely unprotected.” Iris spread her arms. “The Mayoral Mansion is already empty. At this rate, the only thing you’ll retrieve is my corpse.”

  “You dare to test my resolve, daughter? That is a gamble you will lose. You have gone too far this—”

  Iris yanked a cord out of the computer. The monitor went blank, the connection broken. A line had been crossed. There was no turning back now. For several moments Iris stood there alone, contemplating the magnitude of what she had just done.

  Presently she became aware of soft footsteps outside the study.

  The knob turned, and the door creaked open. Without hesitation, Iris drew her sidearm and fired. The shot struck the thick wooden door, but did not penetrate. Iris frowned as she heard the footsteps retreating.

  Iris calmly got to her feet and stepped into the corridor, pistol raised. There was no sign of anyone. Her senses alert, Iris descended some stairs until she reached the second-floor balcony overlooking the dining hall. Sweeping the area with her eyes, Iris stepped forward.

  A gunshot rang out, striking one of the banisters near her. Iris instinctively crouched down behind the banisters for cover. She glanced down at the dining hall. She could see the boy now, even recognize him. It was Cross, the old leader of the Student Militia, now one of the leaders of the Citizens’ Rebellion. Good.

  Cross raised his rifle again to fire, and Iris ducked. The boy pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. A rifle jam. In an instant Iris was on her feet, pistol raised, ready to press her advantage—

  There was a tinkling sound from her right. Iris spun around, just as a metal ring struck her hand, knocking the gun from her grip. The pistol sailed over the banister and caught on a ledge below, impossible to retrieve.

  Iris turned to face her new adversary. It was someone she had never seen before, a pretty albino girl dressed in white and blue. Iris recognized the tattered remnants of a Student Militia jacket. There was a grunt from below, and Iris glanced down. Cross now had the rifle handle drawn back, unsuccessfully trying to shake a stuck casing loose.

  Iris’ lips curled into a smile as Cross tossed his rifle aside in frustration, drawing a combat knife instead. The albino coughed, drawing Iris’ attention.

  “It’s over, General,” she said. “Your soldiers are already gone. Call off the occupation, and leave with them.”

  “They are withdrawing from the City on my father’s orders, not mine,” Iris said calmly. “I intend to stay to the end.”

  “Why?” Cross demanded, climbing up the stairs. “Why defy even your father? Do you hate us that much?”

  Iris laughed. Cross scowled.

  “Your type will never understand. Words do not reach you, only violence.” Iris detached her staff from her back. “I’m tired of trying to save you, Cross. Your resistance ends here. Die loathing me, if you must.”

  The albino frowned. “We don’t want to fight.”

  “Speak for yourself, teacher,” Cross growled.

  Iris pressed a button on her staff, and the weapon extended to full length. The albino immediately lashed out with her chain and Iris blocked the attack, smiling as she allowed the links to wrap around her staff. Then she pressed the second button on her staff, and the albino screamed in pain as the electricity flowed down the chain.

  Cross let out a noise of fury, taking the remaining steps two at a time. He charged straight for Iris, who swung her staff to catch the handle of a nearby vase, then hurled it at Cross. Cross caught the vase with one hand, shoving it aside. The decoration fell over the edge of the balcony and shattered on the floor below. Iris took a step towards Cross, but the albino tugged on the chain to prevent her from swinging her staff.

  Iris retaliated with another electric shock, and the albino dropped to one knee in pain. Cross seized the opening and lunged forward with his knife, but with the chain now loose Iris struck Cross with the staff upside his head, pressing the button again. Both the albino and Cross received the jolt, and Cross fell backwards from the blow.

  Iris glanced at the albino. The girl lay on the ground some distance away, in no apparent shape to fight. Iris freed her staff from the chain, and then advanced on Cross. Cross saw her coming, and made a sudden lunge for her legs. Iris jumped, landing on Cross’ arm, and then brought her staff crashing down onto his back. She pressed the button once more, and Cross screamed.

  Then there came a terrible creaking sound from above, and Iris looked upwards. The albino’s chain was now wrapped around a chandelier directly above them. The albino pulled with all her strength and with a groan the chandelier came free. Iris leaped backwards, and Cross rolled out of the way of the falling ornament.

  The chandelier made a terrific crashing sound as it impacted the floor in a shower of crystal. The room grew suddenly darker without its light. As Cross groaned on the floor, Iris turned to face the albino, who was panting slightly.

  “I’m impressed,” Iris said. “I was sure that I’d shocked you enough to keep you down.”

  The albino smiled wryly. “I’ve endured worse in my time.”

  “I don’t know who you are,” Iris said, “but it’s unfortunate that you’ve fallen in with the wrong crowd. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I am.”

  “Then this fight will be the last thing you ever endure.”

  * * *

  Behind Iris, Cross had risen to his feet. He lunged just as the albino swung her chain again. Iris knocked the ring aside, and then in the same fluid motion brought her staff behind her to strike Cross on top of his head. Cross stumbled forward. Without hesitation, Iris seized his collar and then hurled him off the balcony.

  For a moment Cross felt a strange loopi
ng feeling, as though he were a child riding on the swings again. Then there was a sickening crunch beneath him, and Cross found himself lying amid the shattered splinters of what had been a small decorative stand. There was pain everywhere.

  “Cross!” His teacher’s voice was calling him. “Cross, are you all right?”

  Cross realized that he could still move his limbs. Tentatively he began to stir, and a moan escaped his lips. He glanced at his right hand—somehow he had managed to hold onto his knife.

  Up on the balcony, Iris looked down at Cross and frowned as he stirred. Ignoring the albino altogether, Iris pressed the button to shrink her staff down to a weighted stick. Then she ran for the stairs and smoothly slid down the banister to the first floor. The albino darted down the stairs after her.

  Painfully, Cross managed to climb to his feet. As Iris reached the bottom and began to approach him with determined steps, he realized that they had badly underestimated the General. The two of them weren’t strong enough, even together. For the first time Cross considered the possibility that Iris might really kill them both.

  “It was a mistake for you to come here,” Iris said. “Had you just waited it out, you might have survived a little longer.”

  Iris charged. Cross backed up, slashing wildly with his knife. It was a panicked attack, and Iris easily avoided the blade. She swung her stick once with precision. The blow caught Cross in the ribs, the stick shorter but heavier than the staff. Iris swung again, this time at his head. Cross narrowly managed to drop to the ground to avoid what he was sure would have been a fatal blow.

  As Cross attempted to rise, the albino caught up and desperately swung her chain. Iris extended her staff, one end deflecting the oncoming chain while the other pinned Cross to the floor. Iris held down a button, and Cross’ world was engulfed in pain. A scream ripped from his throat as he writhed on the carpet—

  Then the main doors to the dining hall slammed open.

  “There they are!”

  Their fight momentarily forgotten, Iris, Cross, and the albino all turned to look at the door. His body trembling, Cross felt his heart soar as Takan and Noni entered the room, knives and sword drawn.