Truancy Origins (42 page)

“Oh,
that,
” the Mayor said. “You almost had me afraid that there was a serious problem.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, prompting the Mayor to hurry along with his explanation.

“The boys are now of an age where they should start becoming responsible with their own money,” the Mayor said. “I have allowed them to make investments of their choice in the City. Of course, they have more money to experiment with than the typical child, but at least one of the two thinks big.”

“I see,” the young woman said, a thin smile creeping across her face. “Well, I think that my father will be satisfied with that . . . but one thing, Mayor, off the record, and just between the two of us.”

“What?”

“You don't fool
me.
”

Then the screen went blank, plunging the room into darkness. The Mayor was left to sit there alone at his desk for the rest of the night, breathing heavily as his heart raced. He would return to normal only long after the sun had risen.

 

Z
en gazed out the shopwindow as the sound of wooden clacking reached his ears. The bright early-morning sun had melted away the last of the snow that had fallen a few days ago, and the day was shaping up to be the warmest of the winter thus far. Outside in the street, a number of Truants were engaging in friendly duels with each other, wielding crude wooden
swords that Zen had allowed them to make for well-deserved recreation. These Truants had accomplished a lot in a short time, and there was no doubt left in Zen's mind that they had the potential to succeed in a way the Educators had never dreamed possible.

Zen was proud, but not
of
them or what they had done. To be proud of their accomplishments would be to lay some claim to them, no matter how small. Zen had decided to leave that particular brand of arrogance to the parents of the City. Instead, Zen was proud of the things that he had done himself, chief among them assembling and leading the formidable Truants before him. As if to punctuate this feeling, Zen suddenly spotted Amal approaching the shop, a look of triumph on the boy's face.

“We got what you asked for, Zyid,” Amal said as he entered the shop and held out a large rolled-up paper.

Zen smiled. The new name that he had picked for himself didn't sound normal to him yet, but he didn't mind the novelty of it. Besides, he was certain that in time his invented name would feel more natural than his given one.

“Excellent,” Zen said, taking the paper and unfurling it. “How did you manage to obtain it?”

“We marched right into City Hall and said we were doing research for a school project,” Amal said. “It's not like they had any reason not to believe us.”

“You've done very well,” Zen said, placing the paper down onto a table. “Take the rest of the day off. I'll need to see you here tomorrow at eight for another assignment.”

Amal bowed out of the shop, and as he left Gabriel slipped in through the door to give his first regular report on Enforcer movements. As he approached Zen, his eyes caught the paper that the Truancy leader was inspecting. Gabriel forgot what he was there to do as recognition struck.

“Say, aren't those—”

“The blueprints for our good old District 1 School?” Zen finished without turning around. “Yes, yes they are.”

“What are they for?”

“All in good time,” Zen said, rolling the blueprints up again. “These will not be put to use until our friend Rothenberg is removed from the picture.”

“You're planning to go after him soon?” Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

“Oh no.” Zen shook his head. “If my guess is correct and the Mayor has set Rothenberg a deadline, we will not have to. As soon as that deadline expires, or the Mayor loses his patience, Rothenberg will be removed from power, and then the Mayor will finally discover the extent of what he's been covering up. That's when our struggle begins in earnest.”

“What's Rothenberg been covering up?”

Zen turned around and cocked his head at Gabriel.

“The existence of the Truancy, of course. If you were in Rothenberg's position, would
you
want the Mayor to know what we've been up to?”

Gabriel knew that the question was rhetorical, and saw no need to answer it. Instead he asked a different one.

“What do we do until Rothenberg is gone?”

“We continue to fight him,” Zen replied. “I expect that as he grows increasingly desperate, Rothenberg's attacks will become more dangerous and reckless. We will make as big a dent in the Enforcers as possible so that they will already have a healthy respect for us when the Mayor inevitably takes over.” Gabriel nodded at that. “Now, I believe you were here to update me about the Enforcers' daily movements?”

“Thought you'd never ask. It looks like they're going to move in numerical order. A massive task force swept District 8 about an hour ago, but our guys got out in time and we didn't lose anyone,” Gabriel said. “However, some of our patrols in the inhabited districts are reporting that a smaller task force is heading elsewhere, and Frank can't understand it because it's not even a district that he expected them to search. We haven't laid any mines there.”

“I need to stop putting off that visit to Frank,” Zen muttered. “Which district was he referring to?”

“District 19.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Zen's eyes glinted as he barely held back a smile.

“District 19?” Zen repeated. “I wonder what mad whim sent Rothenberg there. He can search that district all he wants, he won't find anything. Not even a vagrant would live in that forsaken place.”

 

W
ell, that certainly looks like trouble,” Umasi observed.

“I wonder why they're here,” the nameless girl mused. “Do you think they're after you?”

Umasi wondered the same thing himself. The two children were crouching atop a District 19 rooftop, looking down at the streets below. Several blocks away they could see a large procession of patrol cars traveling from block to block, with dozens of uniformed Enforcers scrambling around like blue ants. Umasi silently thanked the bright sun for melting the snow that would've otherwise left tracks.

Umasi had only recently been allowed out of bed. For a few days his companion had gently but firmly insisted that he rest, feeding him herself at every meal. Umasi had been somewhat baffled by her kind treatment,
but he was grateful and hadn't thought to protest. He still wondered exactly how much of what he remembered from those delirious days had been real and what hadn't. Some of it certainly seemed too unlikely to be true.

“I doubt they know I'm here for sure, but they probably are looking for me or my brother,” Umasi said. “And even if they aren't, they would love to arrest me anyway . . . unless my father's given them permission to shoot me on sight.”

“He might permit it, but I won't,” his companion said, her crimson gaze fixed on the Enforcers. “We should leave while we can. It looks like they are trying to surround the district.”

“I'd like to be able to come back when this is all over,” Umasi said uncertainly. “They're still pretty far from the lemonade stand. We have a good chance of hiding it before they get there.”

As soon as he suggested it, Umasi felt bad about fussing over such a minor thing when both their lives could be at stake. Still, the stand was precious to him, it was home, and he was sure they could save it in time. Umasi glanced at his companion, who was frowning slightly, but not objecting. Her next word surprised him.

“Okay,” she said reluctantly.

Knowing that there was precious little time to waste, the two of them scrambled over to the edge of the building, jumping down onto a series of rusty fire escapes. They ran down the steps and climbed down the metal ladder at the bottom to reach the ground. They then made their way back to the lemonade stand as swiftly as they could.

Umasi was relieved that he hadn't made any lemonade for the day, for it took only a quick trip in and out of the apartment to stuff all the paper cups and the pitcher itself into a garbage bag, which he then tossed into a nearby alley where it wouldn't look out of place. He thought he might've heard something crack as he placed the bag down, but now wasn't the time to make a fuss. The lemonade taken care of, Umasi scrambled to deal with the stand itself.

Meanwhile, his companion had vanished into the apartment, and by the time he entered to check up on her, he found that any evidence that someone had lived there recently had already been dragged off into the basement or tossed into more garbage bags, which joined the others in the alley. Umasi was glad that he had not bought any furniture for the rickety apartment. All in all, it had taken them less than five frantic minutes to finish the job.

“They're almost here,” the albino said, glancing at the end of the street. “Maybe two, three blocks away.”

“How do you know?” Umasi asked.

“You just have to listen.”

Umasi blinked at that, then he paused and allowed his frenzied pulse to steady, shutting his eyes as he strained his ears. To his surprise he found that she was right: there were clearly voices, footsteps, and the low hum of a car engine headed their way.

“Guess we can't go back that way,” Umasi muttered. “It's probably too risky to try to going around them as well. We'll just have to go the opposite way.”

“That will take us to District 20.”

“Yeah,” Umasi nodded. “But I don't care what district we end up in as long as we get out of here safely.”

“Well said,” his companion murmured.

Their minds made up, the two children darted down the street, around the block, and made straight for the nearest barrier separating Districts 19 and 20. Umasi glanced at his companion, who was proving to be a very fast runner, barely breathing hard as her sweater fluttered behind her. It didn't take them long to reach the wooden barrier, still with no sign of Enforcers in sight. They skidded to a halt just before it, slightly out of breath. They could now hear honking and rumbling and all the other typical sounds of the City, but none close enough to have come from directly behind the fence. Nonetheless, the nameless girl still eyed the wooden barrier warily.

“Someone might spot us going over,” she said. “It's early morning. Students are heading to school now.”

“That street is never very busy, there probably won't be anyone around,” Umasi said. “In any case, we have no other—”

“Shh!” The girl pressed a finger to his lips.

Umasi was confused for a moment, but then he heard it as well: two voices on the other side of the fence, rapidly approaching. Umasi felt another surge of appreciation for his companion; if he had climbed over, he might've dropped right on top of their heads. Umasi was now so intent on listening that as the unseen pedestrians passed by them he caught a snippet of their conversation.

“ . . . I still don't get why you're walking me to school, Dad.”

“You may be used to going by yourself, but you're still only thirteen years old. It's perfectly normal for parents to walk their children at your age.”

“But why aren't you at work?”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“The Mayor himself has recently given me a special assignment. I don't follow a strict schedule anymore.”

“You mean you got suspended?”

“No, I did not get suspended,” the voice snapped. “Stop changing the subject. Even if I were not an Educator I would still be your father, and I can walk you to school whether you like it or not.”

“So are you going to walk Suzie to school too?”

“She's still young enough to take the bus, and I think that's quite enough questions from you for one morning. But since we're answering questions now, I have a few to ask about your last report card . . . .”

By this point the voices had already grown so faint that Umasi had to strain to hear them, and their footsteps had also seemed to have faded. His companion, however, remained wary for a few more seconds before finally giving him a nod of approval. Umasi scrambled over to the wooden barrier, using the boards jutting out from it as footholds as he climbed over. He was relieved to land on his feet, and even more relieved to find that the street was indeed empty of people. A moment later, the nameless girl gracefully slid over as well, joining him at his side.

“We made it,” Umasi said, relieved. “Where do we go now?”

“I know a place where we can stay,” the pale girl said.

“You do?” Umasi blinked.

“Yes,” she said, looking away as though fighting a battle with herself. “This is an odd request, but could you wear both pairs of sunglasses while I lead you?”

“Both sunglasses?” Umasi repeated.

“It'll work like a blindfold, but won't look so odd.” The albino turned to look at him again. “The place that I'll be taking you . . . I've never shown anyone before.”

Umasi hesitated, but only for a moment. The request was odd, but he could see that this place, wherever it was, was very important to her. He trusted this girl implicitly, and she hadn't asked any questions when he wanted to hide his stand. The least he could do was grant her wish for secrecy.

“All right,” Umasi said, fishing his sunglasses out of his pocket. “Let's go.”

His companion's ruby eyes sparkled as she handed him her pair of sunglasses, which he awkwardly doubled up with his own and slipped onto his face. He soon found that the effect left him nearly blind, though he could vaguely make out the faintest outline of the world around him. He was sure that there was no way he could find his way back even if he tried. The pale girl slid her hand in his and tugged, leading him along.

The trip through the noisy, live district wasn't as uncomfortable as it
might've been, as the albino proved to be a careful and considerate guide. Still, Umasi did manage to bump into things a few times and nearly tripped on the edge of the sidewalk once. He also had the nagging feeling that people around him were staring, even though he couldn't see them. Eventually, the noises of the City seemed to die away, and Umasi had the feeling that they were now in another abandoned district, though he couldn't be sure.