What Are You Willing to Risk?

by P. L. Camery

  “Why did you kill him?” Mavis blurted out. “You’ve always known his ideals, he was near a problem before but now, you set him up and had him shot. Why? To what end?”

  The Guardian sighed, giving Mavis such a look of disappointment that it gave her chills. Still, the younger girl held her gaze until the matron looked at Roland, “I can see you were really a last-minute addition to the team. You haven’t told her yet.”

  “Told me what?” Mavis felt her heart pick up speed. She looked from Roland to the Guardian then back again, “What does she mean Roland?”

  “Go on Mr. Stone,” the matron said, amused by the boy’s glare, “I believe you were coming up to give me the daily report anyways.”

  Roland was visibly rigid with tension, and Mavis hoped he could feel the full weight of her gaze, “Tell me Roland.”

  Sighing he tried to face her but quickly averted his gaze to the ground, “He’s not dead Mavis.”

  Mavis blinked, “What?”

  “He’s here, in one of the interrogation rooms. They… I’ve been administering the torture drug. He’s being tested to see how far he will go before he cracks.”

  He- he’s alive. Mavis felt the truth wind her with the full force of an uppercut to the gut. He’s alive and- and being tested. Like a lab rat, tortured, like an animal. In a daze Mavis felt herself spring to her feet and shoot forward, leaping across the desk. Before she could make it halfway rough hands grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her back into her seat. Tears streaming down her face she choked out, “Why?”

  The Guardian shook her head, “Really Mavis, you’re going to have to learn to prioritize if you’re going to become an authority figure.”

  “Why?” Mavis repeated, screaming the word at the top of her lungs.

  With a sigh the Guardian said, “Because he’s a fantastic specimen.” Mavis gaped, but before she could speak the matron held up a finger and continued, “Honestly, we had much bigger plans for him. I’m sure you are aware, but the country has been in a state of unrest for some time now, even more than the usual rebel discontent. They need something new, something to distract them. And expanding the rebel community into its own nation, well it’s a risky move but it’s my job to take those risks, to do what it takes to keep my citizens content and, on a whole, keep my nation stable. I believe in Mr. Richardson’s plan, but as a means to create a unified common enemy. I wanted him to be a tool for change. But the boy does know how to make enemies. This Admiral, you know him I believe, he’s a major figure in your council, and well it was Admiral Perry who pulled the trigger. Needless to say, the man was arrested and executed, but you would have known that if you’ve been keeping up with the news.” The Guardian paused, but when she got no response she continued, “No I can see you haven’t, you’ll have to work on that too. Well after we saved him, there was such a movement when the country though he had died, I decided he would function best as a martyr. But I didn’t have it in me to waste him. I had plans for him; I watched him grow and develop; I chose him. I couldn’t let my pet project completely go to waste.”

  “So, you turned him into lab rat?” Mavis demanded. “A form of entertainment?”

  At this the Guardian reddened, “You of all people must understand, he has such a fascinating mind, its rare we ever get to test the limits of someone so…”

  “No, you must understand,” Mavis bellowed, unable to hide her rage, “There’s no way I’m going to sit here and nod and agree as you talk about the boy I love like he’s a good book.”

  The matron leaned back in her chair, considering, calculating. Finally, she leaned forward again, fingers linked on her desk, and smiled, “I can see your point Mavis, and just to show you I can be reasonable, as an act of good will I give him back to you. When you leave here today, he is released with you.”

  Mavis could only stare back at her, once again too stunned to speak. It was Cal who broke the silence, “Okay, am I the only one here who is finding this all too good to be true? What I’m hearing, and correct me if I’m wrong, is that you agree we should have our own place to do with as we please and you’re just going to agree to that and even better help us set up camp because you think it’s in your best interest as much as ours. Plus, you’re giving us our buddy back just because.” He looked from Mavis to the Guardian then back again, “Did I miss anything?”

  The matron across from them raised her eyebrows then leaned back and let out a full unbridled laugh. The laugh was so at odds with the tension in the room it filled Mavis with an overwhelming sense of dread and wrongness, “Essentially, Mr. Short, yes, that’s it in a nutshell. Though I hadn’t gotten around to offering resources just yet.”

  “What’s the catch?” Mavis snapped, trying desperately think past her warring emotions, the anger, the sudden desperate hope of seeing Lawrence again. “What are we giving you in return other than a common enemy to control your country with?”

  “Good girl,” the matron smiled, “finally asking the right questions. I want control, I want to make sure your new makeshift nation does not go to ruins, that it can actually fulfill its purpose, I want your leader to be one of my loyal subjects.”

  “And if we refuse your terms?” Mavis asked, leaning forward in her seat.

  “Then I have you all killed and it’s like none of this ever happened.”

  Cal let out a mirthless laugh, “Figures, as if we ever really have a choice.”

  “Oh Caleb,” the Guardian sighed, and Mavis was surprised to see genuine sadness in her eyes, “You don’t know what it takes to start a nation from nothing, worse so to begin a government promoting freedom, practically relying on the morals of the individual to cooperated in making society run smoothly.”

  “At least it would be in our hands,” Mavis responded, straightening with conviction, “Ours to bring to greatness or to bring to ruin, that’s all we want.”

  Shaking her head, the matron allowed a hint of frustration to show, “I know you don’t believe me, but the Guardianship is really meant to serve the people, to keep you all happy and safe. People can’t be trusted to make decisions on their own. Humans left to their own devices are lazy and corruptible and simply cruel to one another. Take away laws and there’s chaos, take away the casts and everyone wants to be at the top, take away regulation and people go beyond limits, stealing and cheating and killing one another for mere amusement or pride or things as arbitrary as the tone of your skin or your sexual preference. It’s my job to keep the masses content, to weigh options, to make the decisions. The nation is thriving because of me, because I keep the order, because I keep the peace.”

  “We aren’t asking you to change that,” Mavis said softly. Cal and Roland snapped their heads to her, staring in confusion, “We know you’re doing the best you can, that it’s a heavy burden you have and you’re doing what you think is right, what will make the most people happy. All we want is a chance to do the same. We will work with you; we will even listen to your advice and welcome your representatives. But if this is going to work, if you want us to take some of the burden off you, we need to govern ourselves. We need to be able to do the best we can by likeminded individuals. You see the validity of that don’t you? You see how it’s in everyone’s best interest?”

  The Guardian stared at her for a long moment, blue eyes deep in thought, considering and weighing every word. Then she leaned forward, blowing out a breath and passing her hands through her hair. Mavis felt her heart skip a beat as the matron snapped her fingers, causing the guards to back up against the walls and camera crew to set up their equipment. The Guardian of Hassdrin, Alandra Elias, fixed her gaze on Mavis and said, “Okay, let’s make this official.”

  Epilogue

  From the viewing end of a double-sided window Mavis watched, helpless as Lawrence writhed and screamed in his bed. When they had found him, collapsed and muttering to himself in the depths of interrogation room four no one had expected the depleted boy to present muc
h trouble. But the moment he’d been released from his restraints, he proved quite combative, kicking and punching and doing everything in his power to escape his supposed assailants. To safeguard against him hurting others or himself a padded room in the former Gildon County had been provided. It had an only a bed, a small bathroom with only a toilet and sink, and a small desk with pencils and paper. Food was served to him three times a day and he was taken for a shower and fresh set of clothes once a day. Every night his pencils were taken away from him to prevent self-harm. Mavis hated it; he deserved so, so much better.

  Beyond the glass the boy she loved bolted upright, drenched in sweat and panting. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his plain dark grey shirt and lay back in his bed, chest visibly heaving. Several times Cal and Mavis had tried to visit him without avail. They were key figures in the new rising nation, and as such they had to be kept safe. This reasoning, however, left Mavis light headed with rage. But what about Lawrence? He didn’t need isolation, like he was still imprisoned, he needed help, he needed to see the people who loved him. Although he didn’t know it, she visited him every day, watching him and wishing she could walk through the glass, just to touch him, to hold him. Her love had come back from the dead and yet he was hardly more than a ghost. She couldn’t, wouldn’t stand for it. It had taken several months, but Mavis had finally arranged for supervised visitation. It wasn’t a lot, but the best she could do for now. Sighing, she felt a small tear fall down her cheek as she pressed her fingers to the glass, so close yet…

  She was startled but a light shake of her shoulder. “You ready?” Roland asked, standing tall in the light grey uniform of the New Republic of Gildon. Since Lawrence’s release from prison, Roland was the primary caretaker for the boy. They never said much to one another, but he was the only person Lawrence had not instantaneously tried to throttle.

  Mavis turned to face the soldier who had once claimed to love her. He seemed taller than before, more self-assured, like he had grown into his new role and finally found something that filled him with purpose and pride. She offered him a small smile, “Yes, I’m ready.”

  With a nod he led her to the door, opening it for her and indicating she enter, “I’ll wait out here to give you two some space. I don’t think he will hurt you, but I’ll be watching from the window to be sure.” Swallowing, Mavis walked through the entryway.

  Lawrence was sitting upright, staring at her. The moment their eyes met his widened and she felt the bracelet on her wrist pulse at twice the rate it had before. Then he brought his hands into his hair and shut his eyes tight, mumbling something she couldn’t hear. She felt the absence of his gaze as a physical ache; but she didn’t have time to asses her own pain. Alarmed by his behavior she raced to his bedside, “Lawrence it’s okay. You’re safe, nothing’s going to hurt you, you’re safe.”

  “No, no,” as she approached, he scrambled out of his bed, eyes darting about the room in a panic. He ran to the corner and crouched into a ball shutting his eyes again, “No please, spiders, webs, pain, anything but her, not her again, don’t hurt her, no, not her…” he chanted these words like a prayer as Mavis slowly approached again.

  Cautiously she reached out and touched his shoulder, “Lawrence it’s me, it’s Mavis, everything is okay.”

  His eyes snapped open and Mavis took a sharp intake of breath, stunned by the fury and hate in them. “I know who you are,” he growled, “You’re not her, you’re not real.” He pushed her away and Mavis stumbled back, too stunned to resist. “You’re not her and you’re trying to trick me! I know what you’re up to; you’re not real, not real, not real, not real!” With each reputation he pounded his fists into the ground like an outraged child. After several minutes of this he crumpled into the fetal position, pounding his head with both fists and silently crying, “Not real, not real, not real…”

  Crawling forward, Mavis took both wrists, holding them firmly to the ground. He looked up at her, eyes pleading now, “I have to protect her you see,” his voice was barely above a whisper and Mavis felt her heart fill with equal measures love and pain, “I can’t give in, she’s out there somewhere and I have to protect her.”

  “I’m right here, baby,” Mavis assured, pulling his wrists closer. When he didn’t resist, she pulled him to her, so his head rested on her shoulder, “It’s really me Lawrence, I’m right here.”

  “I know it’s not you,” he whispered, “But it really, really feels like you.” He wrapped his arms around her, taking a deep breath and relaxing for the first time in almost a year. “It’s warm like you, so small and warm, it even smells like you.”

  Mavis squeezed him with one hand and wiped off his tears with the other, “Believe me my love. It’s really is me.” She held him close, letting her tears fall into his hair. “Believe me Lawrence, please. I won’t lose you again. I need you back. Come back to me, please.”

  “I wish I could,” he held her, wishing with his whole heart she could be real, hating himself for taking comfort in this illusion. “But I can’t risk her safety. I can’t take that risk.”