by Jason Luthor
“Well, I’m glad you’re not making a big deal out of it, because I just feel like it’s the right thing to do.” I look over at Yasmine. “Speaking of fighting, what brings you two out of the garrison?”
“Besides the fact that we have normal lives outside of it?” she says with such complete deadpan sarcasm that I can only tell, by the smallest smirk in her lips, that she’s joking. “Me and Patel do security training for the guards working here. That’s why we’ve got these uniforms on.”
“I was wondering about that.”
“We don’t normally work today but Dodger wanted us to come out.”
“It’s because of me, isn’t it?”
“Kind of. She wanted to go out for drinks and dinner after school’s over. Told her I’d be up for it.” Her eyes go over to Patel. “I assume you’re in?”
Patel cocks his head. “I can’t hold down drinks, but I’m going to be starving.”
Personal Recording of the President, Gabriel Branagh 20
Sitting there with the Advisory Council, Tommy and Martin flanking me while we stare down Yousef on the other end, I just rub at my forehead as we rehash the same debate that’s been going on for the last couple of hours. “How hard is it really just to have a proper acquisition process for materials? We really thought the best way of getting supplies to those troops outbound for the Deadlands was to have them pick it up from the medical depot? Without any notification.”
Yousef raises his hands. “I’ve said time and time again that I did not send my men there. It’s not my fault if nobody wants to hear my side of things.”
Dravic intervenes. “Mr. President, it’s possible that I may have . . . accidentally . . . authorized them to take those supplies.”
Tommy leans in. “Representative Dravic, you’ll pardon me for being harsh, but how the hell do you ‘accidentally’ authorize the raiding of supplies from a mobile medical depot?”
“The depot was along the route they were taking on their way out of the city. I mentioned to the company lieutenant that they would likely be able to pick up additional supplies there because we hadn’t yet received our new stock from the central warehouses. I told them I could clear it with the War Council.”
“Clear it later? That’s not a formal authorization for resupplying. You can’t just give verbal consent for that kind of thing. There’s a bureaucracy, forms to fill out . . .”
Yousef raises his hand. “Half the reason Fort Silent exists is because we wanted to streamline the mobilization process. It’s not as if we don’t have a process, but if someone in a position like Representative Dravic indicates authorization’s been given . . .” He shrugs. “Then it’s likely my men took it as a formal authorization. That led us to the incident.”
“An incident that almost got innocent people killed.”
I wave a hand and cut in. “Look. This is exactly what I was worried about when we decided to merge our forces. Besides the fact that I don’t like the heavy-handed militarism that you use, general, there’s also completely different operational cultures and chains of command.”
“And what would you like me to say, Mr. President?”
“How about that you’re going to get your men under control? Start telling them to stop treating our civilians like they’re raiders.”
Tasha Bouley, of all people, decides to get in on things. “President Gabriel, these are just growing pains. I don’t understand what sense it makes to try and persecute Yousef when he’s only been in the city for a few days.”
“Persecute? Tasha, he’s the supreme general of the most advanced military force in the Deadlands. I think he can take a little criticism.”
“And you’re the president of the last remaining real city in the world, so when are you going to suck it up and start trying to make this work?”
“Excuse me?” A history of insults hasn’t made me immune to Tasha’s criticism. “How about the Advisory Council start doing its job and start putting checks and balances on these military operations, which was what was supposed to happen in the first place. It was this council’s job to make sure that incidents like the one at the medical depot didn’t break out by keeping a close watch on things that were going on.”
“And we will. Alright? How many times do you want us to say it? It was a screw up.”
“A screw up? People could have died, Tasha. I know this is a new concept to you, between your trying to suck up all the funds from the city while adding on to that estate of yours, but we’re actually here to do a job for the average joe trying to put two and two together out there.”
“Putting your insults aside, I know that people almost died, Gabriel, but they didn’t. We’ll handle it.” Her eyes goes to Yousef, who’s eyes are starting to roll as she looks at him. “As for you, I’ve tried to get in touch with you at least a half dozen times since you got into Central and what do I have to show for it?”
Yousef starts rubbing at his temples as he stares down at the table. “And you’ve left messages with every person on my staff since I arrived.”
“Then when were you going to get in touch with me?”
“Perhaps sometime between when I got done having a fight with the Dark Angel and trying to sort out what happened at the medical depot?”
“And that gives you a free pass to ignore me? We’re all busy here, general.”
There’s a second, right then, when Yousef tucks his hands under the table and I could swear, for at least half a second, that I see just a little bit of golden light trailing his fingers. I actually stop breathing for that instant. An instant later, he looks back at Tasha, faking a smile as they lock eyes. When he does talk, his voice is like a cold blade. “To be clear, this is an alliance. A partnership among equals. I am not your dog to call for when you need me. I would suggest that you do not force me to make my point any clearer than that.”
Dravic’s eyes go wide as he tilts his head at Yousef, as if he’s trying to remind the general to calm down. Tasha actually looks a little taken aback by his tone, and she fumbles for her next few words. “I . . . wasn’t trying to offend, general. We have a certain pace that we run things at here in Central. Delays can make getting things done harder on all of us.”
Yousef takes a deep breath as he stares off at the table, like he’s just staring into nothing. His eyes just look . . . empty, like there’s an abyss inside of him ready to pour out. The moment draws out for a long time, long enough that Tommy looks my way, the two of us exchanging worried glances. Finally, the general takes a deep breath as he sits there. “I hope the council will forgive me for my impatience. I am . . . not used to having to answer to anyone. Not in my role at the head of Fort Silence. However, these are new circumstances for me. For us all, really.” He takes another breath as he looks around the room. “I promise to be more responsive to all of you from now on. In the interest of ensuring the success of our alliance.”
Jackie’s Recording 13
There’s a restaurant not far from the school that the teachers apparently like to go to after work. It’s just across the street from a park named after someone named Marcus Garvey, or at least that’s what the plaques outside the park say. He had to have been important, right? I mean the park’s named after him. It’s not a place I’ve ever been inside of, but as we’re walking by it, Cynthia tells me about how there’s an amphitheater inside where bands play concerts once in a while. There’s apparently what used to be a swimming pool in there that the city converted to more of a play area, just because you don’t want people diving into water when it’s been exposed to the sort of rain that falls around Central. Not that it’s toxic like the kind around the Tower, but there’s just still concerns about what would happen if you swam around in it for a long period of time.
Anyway, the restaurant we end up at, like all of the restaurants in Central, takes credits issued by the city as payment for work done. And, just like all the restaurants in the city, it’s a vegetarian place. Nothing wrong with that, but it�
�d be an incredible lie if I said I didn’t miss the cuts of chicken from dining with Yousef.
I’ll go on record as saying that for the first half hour of us all sitting around and talking that I’m really out of my element. Dodger, Yazzie, Patel, Cynthia . . . I don’t know. They all seem to know each other so well. Dodger’s the only one of them I’m really close with. Still, after a while of sitting around, having dinner and drinks, I start to feel a little more comfortable talking. It’s that moment between when I feel like a statue and start feeling like a normal person.
Yazzie jokes about Tommy being in over his head. Dodger agrees, laughing about how Tommy never set out to be a soldier. Cynthia joins in, the three of them having some laughs at Tommy’s expense, but it’s all in good fun. The funniest part about it to me is seeing Patel across the table, eyes wide as he’s eating, like he’s permanently surprised by everything happening around him. I don’t really know his deal, all I know’s that he doesn’t really process information and his surroundings the way that other people do. On our way over to the restaurant, Dodger mentioned that people sometimes thought Patel was being unfriendly when the truth was that he just didn’t really ‘get’ social interactions that well. I guess what’s funny to me, as we’re sitting there, is that we lock eyes at one point. When we do, I can tell Patel likes being there but just doesn’t pick up on social cues. It’s interesting to me that he cocks his head at me, because I’m the only other person besides him that doesn’t seem to be completely in on the jokes. When he notices, he raises a glass to me, and we silently toast to each other as we’re sitting there at the table.
Yasmine bumps him with her elbow and deadpans, “No secret clubs at the drinker’s table.”
“I was just saluting Jackie over our shared difficulties in social situations.”
Dodger laughs as she puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m glad you made a friend, Patel. Jackie likes to make social situations worse for herself.”
I nod and laugh with her. “That’s . . . kind of true.”
Yasmine takes a drink from her glass before continuing. “Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know. I got so used to being an outsider, then I got better in social situations for a while, then a bunch of stuff happened to me out in the Deadlands . . .”
“Before you came back to Central.”
“Yeah.”
“But now you’re here and everyone loves you. So, what’s the problem?”
I shake my head. “The problem’s me accepting that people love me. Or even like me, for that matter.”
“That’s weird. It’s obvious.”
“Eh.”
“Aren’t you the person who’s told Dodger to be more confident about herself? That everyone believes in her.”
“See, that’s another thing,” I tell her with a lift of my finger. “Apparently I’m pretty great at giving advice and a lot worse at taking my own advice.”
“That’s everybody. Don’t stress it so much. Everyone here goes through that.”
Patel nods. “It’s true. I can recite books about how to be good in social situations and still act like a robot during most of them.”
“You’re not a robot, Patel,” Yasmine barks as she pushes his glass toward him. “Now drink.”
“Alrighty.”
I squeeze tighter into my jacket as the restaurant doors open up, a few more people coming inside to eat. “Anyway, this is pretty cool. I can’t believe I’ve been in Central this long and I’ve never just done this.”
Cynthia looks over at her. “You were always welcome.”
“There’s that gap again, though, between what you know and what you feel.”
“Definitely.”
“Although, again, I should do some reaching out once in a while instead of always expecting people to reach out to me.”
“Well, you are the new person in town. Maybe we should have put in more of an effort to make you feel welcome.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even realize how much I’d like working at a school.”
Dodger smiles at me. “Oh, ended up liking it, did you?”
“Shut up,” I joke at her as I take a bite of food from my plate. “Maybe I’m never going to be great with kids, but it was weirdly satisfying to feel like I was helping the city without, you know, fighting.”
Yasmine nods. “Why do you think me and Patel do it? Spend too much time in the garrison or out in the Deadlands and you’ll start thinking that all there is to life is being in the militia. That’s not healthy.”
Patel nods with her. “No, it’s not. I think everyone here knows that’s the big difference between Central and Fort Silence.”
I raise my hand to get in a word. “That’s another thing. I’m not going to say I know everything about the fort, but it felt like things outside the fort walls were different. Just based on what I was told, life’s not like that in the surrounding city.”
“It’s possible that not everyone’s cut out to be a soldier up there, so they live outside the walls.”
“Maybe. I know, there have to be people living out there. There’s tanks and soldiers guarding every block. I bet they get to live life a lot like anyone from Central, just with a lot of military protection.”
“It’s an interesting idea. Anyone who can’t cut it in the military lives outside the walls but still have protection. Yousef can’t be completely evil if he’s protecting that many people.”
“Even at his worst, I don’t . . . I really don’t think he’s evil. He just does things differently.”
Yasmine shakes her head. “It’s still a scummy way of running things, making people live scared. And it still doesn’t change the fact that as far as the people inside go, they really are different enough from us. All they do is train. It’ nothing but military life.”
I sigh. “Well, it is a military base.”
“Even we still get to come out here and help volunteer for stuff. That keeps us human.”
“They’re human up there, they’ve just been . . .”
“Brainwashed?”
“Maybe.”
Cynthia shakes her head. “Not all of them. The ones I met, after the trouble at the depot, sounded like they really wanted to make a difference. To be protectors of the people.”
I spread my arms along the table. “That’s all I want to say about it. Maybe the people at Fort Silence aren’t really that different from us. Yeah, maybe a lot of them are brainwashed from the nonstop training and fighting. Maybe Yousef isn’t the best people person to be in charge of a place that big. But are we really going to pretend like we’ve got great people on the Advisory Council?”
Everyone smiles and starts insulting the various people on the council before continuing with their meals. Eventually, Patel and Yasmine start to pull away from the booth. Yasmine pats Patel on the chest as they get up. “This guy will sleep right through morning reveille if we don’t get him tucked in by his bedtime. Hey, Jackie, it was nice talking to you like this. Let’s do it again or something.”
“Yeah, sure,” I tell her with a smile as they start to walk away. Patel ducks his head back into the booth for just one second as he’s about to go.
“Everyone have a good night,” he says before disappearing again, leaving me there with Cynthia and Dodger. Dodger stifles a yawn as she’s sitting there, her hands covering her mouth as she tries hide how tired she is.
“I just need some coffee, not beer,” she says as she starts looking around the restaurant.
Cynthia waves her off from the opposite side of the table. “What you need is sleep. Go. Your boyfriend will be happy to have you home.”
“We’re not living together yet.”
“No, you’re just spending all your time over there.”
Dodger laughs. “Alright, alright. Don’t you two stay out too late either though,” she says as she slides out of the booth. “One of you has a medical clinic to work at tomorrow and the other one of you,” she says, cocking her head a
t me. “What do you do when you’re not saving the world?”
“Well, I’ve been spending most of my time brooding on rooftops.”
“Builders, that’s depressing. No wonder you’re moody all the time.”
“Maybe I’ll do some more volunteer work. It was fun.”
“I approve,” she says with a wave as she turns to head out the door.
That leaves just me and Cynthia staring at each other from across the booth. Before things can get uncomfortable, I tell her, “I don’t think we’ve ever actually just hung out alone.”
“We haven’t,” she says as she buries her fork into the greens in front of her. “That’s funny since we’re both so close to Mikey.”
“Yeah. You didn’t think it was weird, me coming back and all?”
“No. I was more afraid of the Creep inside of you but that was because . . .” She smiles, but it’s a little sad. “Well, because of how things are, and because of how things ended with my parents.”
“Mandy told me a little about it. She says you two had to see them, well, you know.”
“It’s true. I was a teenager at the time, and Mandy still wasn’t ten years old. She remembers her mother and father very well though. She has incredible memory.”
“She’s really sharp.”
“She really is. Our parents met as part of a group of colonists who’d left for the Deadlands from Central. They must have been out there, ooh, maybe a few years before they fell in love and got married.”
“Married. So they do weddings out there in the colonies?”
Cynthia smile at me. “People take their culture with them wherever they live and no matter how difficult the circumstances. Both of my parents were very religious.”
“So that’s why you’re so big on the church thing. Well, I guess Mike is too, now.”
“Yes, it means a lot to me and Mandy. We do believe in God, but our faith is also a connection to our parents. There were no real churches out there in the colony, but a few people got together every week. In the morning, my father would wake us up with alabanzas as my mother would make breakfast for the family. We would meet with the others and talk about our faith, about how we were struggling with living in the colony and how God would get us through difficult times.” She laughs. “Well, the adults would. I would sit in the back waiting for it all to be over. I don’t think I took my own faith too seriously until after they passed away.”