What Are You Willing to Risk?

by P. L. Camery

  With a grunt of effort, Mavis pulled the side door open as Lawrence ran to the pilot’s seat. “You go first Cal,” the girl could hear him yell over the roar of the wind, “I’ll take care of flying while you guys jump.” Then he turned, “When you guys take off angle yourself towards the woods, they look close.”

  Mavis met his gaze, “Come right after us. I expect to see you in one piece at the bottom.”

  Lawrence grinned, “Only if you promise to be safe too.”

  “Which we’ll all have a better chance of the faster we go,” Cal said, coming up besides Mavis with his load. “Ready Mavis? One, two, jump!”

  The moment she left the aircraft her stomach churned, and her heart raced faster than the wind skimming past her face. As the trees approached, Mavis could feel a wave of panic overtake her. It took all of her will power to remember the trigger held in her hand and pull. The sudden uplift as the parachute released was almost instantaneously followed by the sharp jerk of it getting caught in the branches. Hanging limp by her parachute strings, Mavis sucked in air, panting as she scanned her surroundings. When the explosion came, she paled and craned her neck to look up even though she could see nothing through the foliage.

  Lawrence, I hope… The sound of a solid thud interrupted her thoughts. Mavis whipped her head around right as Cal said, “Shit.” She could barely make out his features in the darkness, and if it were not for the white strings tangled around his black form, she may have over looked him. The girl followed his guilty gaze to Destiny’s unconscious heap on the ground below him and moaned. “What?” he asked defensively, “She got heavy.”

  “Glad to see you’re sense of humor is in one piece,” Mavis responded. “Can you see Lawrence at all?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean much,” he reached up, trying in a futile effort to rearrange the parachute strings, “I can’t see shit.”

  “True,” Mavis reached up wrapping her hands about one of the strings and pulled, managing to raise herself an inch before she fell back down. She looked at the ground below, knowing it was too far to simply unclip, untangle, and drop down, and muttered mostly to herself, “Now how are we going to get out of this?”

  “We whistle, and then hopefully some sympathetic bird will come and fly us…”

  “Shh!” Mavis cut him off as she strained her ears, “Someone’s coming.”

  “No, they said, don’t bring the knife,” came Lawrence’s voice. Mavis broke into a grin as the boy came into view. “It’s such an archaic weapon Lawrence, completely useless.” He waved the weapon at his companions, “Well, I didn’t find it so useless getting free of my tangled-up parachute.”

  “You’re a smug bastard,” Cal said laughing, “now figure out how to help us down.”

  “Oh, eventually,” the boy replied, “I think maybe I’ll just get Mavis down and let you hang there.”

  “Oh? I like that idea,” Mavis said, “then we can go off and make out without Cal so rudely interrupting.”

  “Oh geez,” the older boy rolled his eyes, “I would have thought a near death experience would act as a mood killer.”

  “Then you don’t know us very well,” Lawrence gave Mavis a wink them said, “Here baby,” he threw up the knife and Mavis caught it by the handle, “Cut yourself down and I’ll catch you.”

  Even as she began sawing at her binds, Mavis smirked, “You’d better catch me, otherwise there’ll be hell to pay.”

  “What? You don’t trust me?” he teased.

  Mavis gave a slight squeal as she fell then smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck as he cradled her, “Obviously not.”

  Lawrence gave her a small kiss before Cal said, “Hello! Other people still here!”

  The younger boy placed Mavis upright his face darkening, “Speaking of other people, where did Destiny go?”

  As if on cue, the girl began to stir. Seeing her, Lawrence ran to help her up. But as he motioned to pull her upright, Destiny flinched away and snarled, “Get away from me, haven’t you done enough?” Her eyes went wide and became distant as she backed herself up against a tree, “No, no! Don’t you have enough? Leave me alone, leave me alone!”

  The boy blankly watched her as the rant continued. Then Mavis took his hand and turned him until their eyes met. “She’s not talking to you. It’s the drug talking not her.”

  He shifted his gaze to his feet and said miserably, “The first part was her, I- she…”

  “Lawrence, regardless,” she lifted his chin, “like you told me about those men in the Facility, there’s nothing you can do right now.” Although he nodded, she knew it was no use, that he’d blame himself. Still she continued, “You have the flash drive, right?”

  The boy hastily reached into his inner jacket pocket then released his breath, “Yes.”

  “Then you’ll figure out how to reverse this. Okay honey? That’s all you can do.”

  “But we don’t have samples,” Lawrence protested, “how can I…”

  “Wait; hold up there,” Cal called down from his trap, “I happened to save a few of those sample vials in my pocket. Assuming they haven’t smashed, which I doubt seeing as how I’m still sane…”

  “Or as sane as you can be,” Mavis pointed out, “considering it is you.”

  “…I’ll trade them for the knife, so I can get out of this damn webbing and we can get out of here!”

  “Deal,” Lawrence said. Then after he tossed up the weapon he added, “That was some good flying by the way.”

  “Why thank you!” Cal had to shout to be heard over Destiny’s increased rant.

  Mavis nodded, “I never thought your stupid video games and simulations would come in handy for a real-world scenario.”

  “Not only that,” as Lawrence spoke his features conveyed distress over his sister’s pleas of get away, get away! “But you got us near the tunnels; I saw them while looking for you guys.”

  “Splendid!” Cal declared as he dropped to the ground besides them. Jumping back to his feet and dusting himself off, he finished, “Well, come on then, time for the long walk home.”

  *****

  By the time Mavis slung her backpack over her shoulders and was walking to school the next morning, she still felt drained from the night’s activity. And why shouldn’t I, she growled in her mind, I’m running on an hour and a half of sleep damn it! Then she sighed as she thought of Lawrence and Destiny, both probably going on no sleep, Lawrence from guilt and his sister from the Lance’s insanity drug.

  She had only gone three paces before having to sidestep an IP. As she passed, she studied him then asked, “Are you new? I’ve never seen you around here before.”

  “I belong to the army,” the disdain in the man’s voice told her he was not pleased to be wearing an IP uniform, “This is a temporary arrangement.”

  “Why would they station you here? Has something happened?”

  “Why aren’t you an inquisitive little bitch,” the man snapped, “Who do you think you are? The Guardian?”

  Mavis judged she would not be able to gain any meaningful information from this individual, so she continued. Soon after, the girl could make out a cascade of whispers then a sudden honk made her jump. She turned to see several people dashing out of the way of a massive piece of machinery. One boy dropped his phone as it honked again. He froze at it continued to approach him and only scurried out of the way as a red-faced IP officer berated him at the top of his lungs. But as he was walking away, he went pale, recognizing the absence of his mobile device. He ran back to grab it and the IP officer yanked him backwards just as a massive tire crushed it. Mavis shook her head as she assessed the giant vehicle. It rolled on four wheels, much like the cars she had seen in her history books. But it wasn’t a car. Let’s see, giant automobile with gun like mechanisms jutting from the front and sides. A tank! Then she scowled, they think they can intimidate us with military machinery? It’s not like the Guardian is going to blow up the cit
y to find us.

  As the tank rolled by a speaker emerged from the top, projecting in a robotic voice, “This is a test of the nation’s automotive vehicles only. There is nothing to fear. All loyal citizens have nothing to fear. This is only a test.”

  “Message received,” Mavis muttered under her breath.

  “What was that?” The nearest IP barked as he strode towards her, “What did you say?”

  “I was just thinking…” she stopped as he reached for her wrist and inspected it.

  He shot her a death glare. “It isn’t your job to think middle cast girl.”

  “Y-yes sir,” Mavis said, alarmed and disgusted to hear the quiver in her voice.

  The man pushed her back and growled, “Now go on then, tell us what was so important that even the likes of you dared to think it.”

  “I, well,” Mavis glanced around, painfully conscious of the crowd forming around her, “I’ve just never seen an automobile test in the city. I was amazed that’s all.” She turned to the IP, “Do you know why we are so privileged today.”

  Satisfied with her answer, the man’s demeanor shifted to indifference and he shrugged, “I’ve received no reason. It is simply her will.”

  Mavis recognized he was referring to the Guardian and nodded, “She does know best.”

  Although within a few seconds the crowd had dispersed, Mavis noted that many were still taking videos of the tank and messaging one another each person emanating frantic excitement. She was so preoccupied with the commotion she almost did not recognize a group of individuals whispering to one another, glaring and motioning in her direction. It took only a moment to place them as the group the Dean had set on her the other day. The girl quickened her pace, making sure to remain within eyesight of at least one IP, which was not difficult since their numbers seemed to have tripled from the previous day.

  Although she knew she needed to focus on present situation, her mind drifted. What will they do when Destiny does not show up to school? Even as Mavis recalled the plan they had gone over the previous night, she could still feel her insides constrict and churn. They would interrogate Lawrence, of that she was sure, and from him they would move to his alibi, Cal. The two were supposed to be drinking and playing pool at a bar which had an entrance to Democris. Old security videos from the owner should be enough to keep them in the clear. But from their network of security videos, the army investigators would see Destiny walk into an old night club and never emerge. Although that entrance into the rebel city was well hidden, all traces of it would have to be destroyed as a precaution.

  The rebel girl sighed as she walked through the university gates then stiffened when she saw Roland. So, you still haven’t been transferred to the IP, Mavis noted, taking in his army general uniform. Seeing that he was speaking with another uniformed man, her first instinct was to slink away. But noting the baffled look he wore as he nodded at the other man’s orders, she leaned against a wall and waited until they were done.

  When the other man left, Roland crossed his arms and turned, deep in thought. Mavis cleared her throat and Roland snapped his head up, seeming more surprised than pleased to see her, “Mavis. I didn’t know…”

  “What was that about?” the girl asked, her expression stony.

  “What was what about?” She gave him a look that said don’t give me that crap and he looked down at his feet. “Well, um it seems I’m not going to school today.”

  The girl knitted her brows together, “Why exactly?”

  “I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s some sort of assignment, I’m to inform my professors then report to headquarters right away.” Then his eyes darkened, “When I asked for what they said it wasn’t my place to question.”

  There was silence between them before Mavis said, “I’ve seen some army soldiers who’ve been pulled into the Imperial Police force, maybe…”

  “No,” he shook his head. “It’s something else, otherwise they would have told me earlier, so I could patrol right away.” Then he smiled and gave her a slight shove, “Look at you, caring what happens to me. Maybe you do like me.”

  Mavis rolled her eyes and spun around, “You always have to go back to that notion, don’t you? Delusional boy.”

  *****

  As Lawrence emerged from the Dean’s office in Hassdrin’s Academy for the Upper Cast, he felt as if some animal had torn him limb from limb and spat out the sheds on the cold hard floor. The interrogation itself had been easy enough. A simple matter of “I was out late with Cal and never saw her come home.” What haunted him was the image of Destiny, the look of hatred on her face, in those moments of sanity between the thrashing and screaming, when she saw him. Not the others, he was sure of it. When they had left her in one of the few cells in the rebel city, Mavis had assured him that his sister didn’t mean what she was saying, it was just the drug. But it was obvious to him that was not true. Her hatred, her contempt was for him. And how could he blame her, it was his fault she got hit, his fault she was there in the first place, just like his parent’s death had been his fault.

  As he walked Lawrence shook himself, No, you can’t think that way. Mavis is right; it’s not your fault. Destiny doesn’t blame you. No one blames you. I wish she would just disappear! That would solve everything. The thought was immediately followed by a new wave of guilt. The boy brushed his hands through his hair in frustration. He wanted to scream, to lash out and destroy everything in sight. His hands clenched into fists as he imagined himself turning a corner and walking back into the Facility. When his fists opened again, he imagined heat running through his arms to the palms of his hands, giving rise to angry red flames. In his mind he threw fireballs as guards came charging at him, consuming them with his rage and frustration. He charged at them, roaring at the top of his lungs then stopped in his tracks when they produced two bound hostages, his parents. Glaring at their captors in his mind, he growled, “Let them go.”

  In reply one of the soldiers laughed and stepped forward. Lawrence felt his heart pounding as he stared at a mirrored image of himself pointing a gun at the back of each head. “You let them go first.”

  “No!” Lawrence lifted his hands to incinerate the image, but he was back in school, standing outside his class room. Unsure if he had vocalized the hallucination, he poked his head in the door.

  The rustle of his peers rising from their seats and gathering their things told him he had gone unnoticed, but also something was going on. Lawrence marched to the front of the classroom and slipped into the polite school boy persona, “Mrs. Saxon, where are we going?”

  “To the gym,” the matron replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice, “those army officials that called you in about your sister have decided to implement a new physical training program. Some self-defense program he said.” She scoffed at the idea, “Honestly, this country needs leaders, intellectuals, not athletes. I’ve always said physical education for the upper cast should be reduced not enhanced.”

  “Yes Miss Saxon,” the boy’s reply was automatic as his mind reeled to put the new information in a sensible perspective. Still emerged in his thoughts, he took his place in the single file line and walked with the others.

  They must be worried about us, he concluded as the group entered the massive gymnasium. They probably think we need to be able to defend ourselves or one by one we’ll get picked off by rebel troops- not the worst idea. Or maybe they are worried about us turning against them and think the solution is a military styled sense of discipline and nationalism… Probably both.

  As the class of thirty arranged into their usual formation of three rows of ten, Lawrence spotted two soldiers standing at from to the gym, one middle aged with the beginnings of grey hair, and the other hardly two years older than himself. The boy stiffened, What is he doing here.

  Roland spotted him an instant later, and Lawrence could see recognition play across his features as he spoke. Then the older man turned and s
creamed, “Attention!”

  The students exchanged confused glances and Lawrence could hear on girl say to her companion, “He can’t be serious.”

  “Excuse me!” the man besides Roland yelled, “Speak up! If you have something to say, say it to everyone.”

  Taken aback, the girl put on an indignant front, “Well we aren’t in the army or the Imperial Police. I mean no offense, but we aren’t the meatbags here,” there was a murmur of agreement mixed with giggles amongst her classmates. The girl grinned and finished, “So you can’t treat us like that.”

  “Oh, I beg your pardon,” the man growled sarcastically, “but it’s us meatbags that keep this country safe. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll learn to respect your military. The Guardian may be our leader, but it is the Army of Hassdrin that fulfills her will.” The look in his eyes added, and sometimes it’s her will people disappear. The group fell silent. Then the man said more calmly, “Now, shall we try again? Attention!” Each student straitened and glued their arms to their sides; Lawrence rolled his eyes at how easily they could be intimidated and followed suit. “Now,” the man said as he began a slow pace, “the man with me is General Roland Stone. A few of you may recognize him as the man who won last season’s Risk Championship.”

  “You mean his team won,” Lawrence blurted out.

  “Excuse me?” the man’s tone was ice cold.

  “The general didn’t win,” the boy insisted, “His team won.”

  “True,” Roland responded, speaking for the first time, “But there is no denying the impact of good leadership. This nation needs leaders it can follow into action, people it is willing to take risks to gain support. I could teach you a thing or two about that kind of leadership.”

  “You think you’re a leader?” Lawrence questioned, eyes flaring, “I wouldn’t follow you into the school cafeteria.”