Truancy Origins (51 page)

“What do you think you're doing, Edward?”

Edward looked up and blinked in surprise as he saw Umasi approaching with a look of horror on his face.

“I'm about to take care of this Truant,” Edward replied, turning back to look down at his victim, finger tightening on the trigger.

“No!”

Edward sighed and looked up again. Umasi was in his face now, staring as though they had never met before.

“What now, Mr. Umasi?” Edward said impatiently.

“What did he do?” Umasi demanded. “Why were you about to kill him?”

Edward blinked again. “He entered the district. I thought you didn't want any live Truants in here.”

“I don't want any dead ones either!” Umasi said. “What were you thinking, Edward? I thought that you were smarter than this!”

For one fleeting moment, Edward was seized by a sudden urge to simply bring his gun around and shoot Umasi down where he stood. Edward fought down the urge. Umasi was still useful, though Edward now realized that that wouldn't last much longer.

“I'm sorry, sir,” Edward lied, throwing the gun aside. “Apparently I misunderstood your wishes.”

“How could you even think of killing someone on an assumption?” Umasi demanded, and then shook his head. “Edward, I'm impressed by your skill, but we're going to have to have a talk about killing later. Go home, Edward, and think about what you were about to do.”

“As you wish.” Edward nodded politely, and then spun around and left as Umasi began dragging the unconscious Truants towards the edge of the district.

As Edward walked, his brain rapidly went to work. Apparently Umasi took his pacifism more seriously than Edward had believed possible. What a fool. How could someone so knowledgeable be so stupid? Perhaps he had overestimated the boy, Edward thought. He was just another weak idealist after all.

Edward made a mental inventory of everything he had written in his notebook so far. It was more than enough for him to realize his dreams. The strategy games, the words, the exercises, none of the things Umasi had tried to impart meant anything to Edward. Edward had been after one thing—information, which he now had in spades. He had even seen the Truancy with his own eyes, and knew now that they were quite vulnerable. There was little if anything more to be gained by sticking by Umasi, who was showing the first signs of mistrust.

Edward climbed over the fence and dropped back into District 18, his thoughts turning to the gun he had cast aside, and the one that he still kept concealed beneath the floorboards. From now on, he resolved, he would carry it every time he met with Umasi. Sooner rather than later, Edward knew, he would have to put an end to their meetings for good.

 

E
xplain yourself!”

Rothenberg cringed. Never had he seen the Mayor like this before.
This was not the dignified and composed leader that the City saw on television. The man sitting at the desk across from him was apoplectic with rage, his face red, teeth bared, eyes furious. Very nearly intimidated into silence, Rothenberg found himself stammering as he spoke.

“I . . . I had him, Mayor! I had the boy! He w-was sitting right in front of me, close as you are now!”

“Do you take me for a
fool,
Rothenberg?” the Mayor demanded. “You may have been face-to-face, but if you really had him he would be here now! No, Rothenberg,
he
had
you
, and you were too blind to see it!”

“Mr. Mayor, I was
so close,
I've been producing results, I swear that—”

“Results?
Results?
” the Mayor shouted. “I've told you time and time again, the only result I care for is seeing my sons returned! Do you have any idea how much your so-called results have cost me? Do you think I have not heard of each and every casualty your search has suffered?”

“Casualties? I don't know what y-you're—”

“So you think me a fool after all!” the Mayor roared. “I've read Jack's reports. You spent days trying to cover up the loss of a helicopter, days that could've been devoted to searching! How did you manage to lose a
helicopter,
anyway? Was the pilot drunk? Were
you
in the cockpit? That would explain it!”

“No, I—”

“Never mind, that's not the point! As disturbing as your wasteful incompetence is, it's not the point!” The Mayor shook his head distractedly. “I don't know how he's doing it, but it's clear to me now that my son is making a fool of you. I should never have put you in charge of this search. You're fired. Get out of my office and await my punishment later.”

“No!” Rothenberg said desperately, his dreams crashing in ruins around him. “Mr. Mayor, I . . . I . . .” Rothenberg cast around wildly for something, anything he could say, and his mind suddenly fell upon the mysterious lemonade stand that he had come across. “I located one of them, Mayor, I know where one of your sons is!”

“Oh? And where is that?” the Mayor asked coldly.

“District 19!”

“Is that so?”

“Yes! I saw . . . signs of one ofthem there, and my men report that that's where some of the attackers fled to. I'm sure of it! Your son is there!”

“Then why have you not sent any patrols to pick him up?”

Rothenberg opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come, and he shut it again, looking like a great fish gasping for air. The Mayor watched this display with cold fury, and then leaned forward in his chair.

“Very well, Rothenberg,” the Mayor said in a soft but dangerous voice, “if you think one of my sons is in District 19, you will enter that district—
alone
—and bring him back to me. You have one day.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” the Mayor said. “If you're not lying, go get my son yourself. But I swear to you, if you do not have him here tomorrow, then you will never see the light of day again. Dismissed.”

 

W
ould you turn off that damn siren? If there's anyone in that district they'll hear us coming a mile off.”

“My apologies, Mr. Rothenberg.”

“The flashing lights aren't helping either. Turn those off too.”

“Regulations won't allow it, I'm afraid.”

Rothenberg glared at the man in the driver's seat. The Mayor was insulting him, he knew, by sending this insufferable aide along with Rothenberg. What's worse, Rothenberg wasn't even being allowed to drive the single patrol car on its way to District 19. For his part, Jack looked quite smug at the wheel.

“Forget the regulations and turn the damn lights off,” Rothenberg ordered. “And you're supposed to call me ‘sir.' ”

“Actually, the Mayor made it quite clear to me that you're no longer even an Enforcer,” Jack said. “It hardly seems appropriate to call you ‘sir' when a lowly aide like myself outranks you.”

“You better watch yourself,” Rothenberg warned. “If I come back today with what the Mayor is looking for, you can bet that I'll be Chief Enforcer again.”

“The Mayor thought you'd say that,” Jack said unconcernedly. “He also said he'd be surprised if you decided to come back at all.”

Rothenberg fumed. So the Mayor was that determined to humiliate him, was he? But what burned worse than the insult was the knowledge that it was true. Rothenberg wasn't sure exactly what he was going to do, or even what he could do, but he knew that returning to the Mayor empty-handed was not an option.

“Tell me something, Rothenberg,” Jack said suddenly, and Rothenberg looked at him in surprise. “What's out there that's so dangerous? What are you looking for?”

“The Mayor still hasn't told you, then? No, he wouldn't have, not an insignificant clerk like you,” Rothenberg said scornfully. “It's between me and the Mayor alone, and you'll keep your nose out of it if you know what's good for you.”

“You're an angry man, Rothenberg,” Jack observed as he braked at an intersection. “Why do you hate children so much? Were you beaten when you were one?”

At that, Rothenberg's furious retort died on his lips, and the car interior
was suddenly very silent. Sensing that he had unintentionally touched a nerve, Jack did not press Rothenberg further, and the rest of the ride passed in tedious silence. After what seemed like hours, the impressive wooden barrier surrounding District 19 finally came into view.

“We're here,” Jack said as the car came to a halt. “I'm supposed to wait for you until sundown. I'm afraid that the Mayor told me to inform you that if you're not back by then he'll issue a warrant for your arrest. Good luck, Rothenberg.”

“Worry about yourself,” Rothenberg snapped, looking at the wooden fence through the windshield. “I'll be seeing you again. Count on it.”

With that cryptic statement, Rothenberg flung the passenger door open and stormed out. Jack blinked as the man slipped over the fence and into District 19, then removed a cup of coffee from the car's cup holder and took a thoughtful sip. Whatever his task had been, Rothenberg had obviously failed and was now being punished for it. That was interesting. Interesting . . . and worrying.

Looking around to make sure that he was not being watched, Jack furtively removed a notepad from his pocket and began writing.

 

I
cannot understand it. Didn't it bother you? The idea that you would be ending a life?” Umasi demanded. “How could you even consider killing someone defenseless like that?”

Edward bit back his snarled retort, and tried to force his voice into the normal polite one that he always used with Umasi. Edward had dutifully returned to Umasi as had become routine, but he had not expected to deal with this irritating and naïve interrogation. He had made certain to wear a jacket today, within which he concealed the gun taken from beneath the floorboards. Umasi was sorely tempting him to use it now, but Edward knew that that was a step he had to be very careful about taking. Who knew what other secrets Umasi might yet be hiding? Reminding himself that he was in control, that he could end Umasi's life at any time, Edward calmed himself and spoke. Still, despite his best efforts, a hint of impatience slipped into his voice.

“I've already apologized, Mr. Umasi. I'm not sure what else you want from me.”

“I want to know how it happened!” Umasi said. “Until yesterday I had been convinced that you were a good person with a few quirks, but after what I saw yesterday I have begun to suspect that I am mistaken.”

“How can you say that?” Edward said, feigning hurt. “Sir, everything I did yesterday was for you! I was just trying to do what you wanted! I misunderstood
your intentions, yes, and I said I'm sorry! I don't know what else I can do!”

“Edward,” Umasi said, “I'm honored that you were willing to kill for me . . . but at the same time, nothing could shame me more. I obviously have been remiss when speaking with you, for I must not have made my beliefs clear. When relating my tale I must've left out the most important parts.”

“The most important parts?” Edward repeated, all thoughts of going for his gun suddenly forgotten.

“Yes.” Umasi nodded. “I told you all the facts, or nearly all of them as best as I could remember. But I failed to relate the lessons that I had learned. You don't yet understand the true value of life, Edward, not like the two before you did. Sometimes it can be the only possession you have left. To steal it is the ultimate crime.”

Edward nearly snorted aloud. This dribble was supposed to be important? Umasi intended to lecture him in some misguided attempt to appeal to morals that he didn't have? There was no profit in empathy, a lesson obviously lost upon Umasi, despite all of the boy's supposed wisdom. Some of Edward's annoyance must have shown on his face, for Umasi let out a deep sigh and hunched over the lemonade stand, hands folded pensively under his chin.

“You don't understand,” Umasi repeated sadly. “Return to the orphanage, Edward. I find that I don't feel much like playing right now.”

Edward gave a curt nod in reply, then stormed off, leaving Umasi to brood alone at his stand. As he turned the street corner, Edward quickly came to a decision. His patience had run out; he would give Umasi another day to get over the incident, but if Edward could not coax anything useful from the boy the next day, then their “friendship” would have to come to an end.

That decided, the rest of his trek towards District 18 passed in relative peace. He allowed his mind to wander and dwell upon what he would do when he eventually, inevitably, assumed control of the City. What had once been idle fantasy was now viable goal, and it felt
great.
So lost was he in his own dreams that it took Edward a moment to notice the sound of distant sirens approaching. When he did, he snapped back to full alertness.

He was only a block away from the barrier dividing Districts 18 and 19, and judging from the direction of the sound, the Enforcers were probably right on the other side of that barrier. But why were they here? They couldn't be looking for him; the orphanage had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong, and Edward was sure that he had covered his tracks.
That meant it was either a completely random search . . . or they were after Umasi. After a moment's consideration, Edward decided to ascend to a nearby rooftop in order to better judge the situation—a strategy that he admittedly would not have thought of if it hadn't been for Umasi.

The moment he reached the top, Edward scrambled over to the edge of the roof and looked down. He was surprised by what he saw. A single Enforcer patrol car had drawn right up to the wooden barrier and two Enforcers seemed to be talking inside. Then one of them, a massive creature, opened the passenger door and slipped out. He seemed to give the fence a long, hard look, and then began to climb over it with surprising dexterity. All of this was unfolding less than two blocks away from Edward's position, and he quickly ducked out of sight in case the Enforcer thought to look upwards.