Dark Humanity

by Gwynn White

She smiled to herself. "It's not often you see a teacher so devoted to his students."

  "Oh?"

  "First you offer Molly a job, then come to rescue her. It's quite touching."

  Acevedo felt flustered. "Well — as I said, it would have been wrong to allow the two of you to stay there, when I had the means to help."

  Katherine sat quietly, gazing at the edge of the table. "When did she die?"

  Acevedo blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

  "My daughter calls you Mr. Spadros. I see no wife here, and you don't look the sort for inappropriate behavior." She paused. "Perhaps I shouldn't have spoken." The way she said this made him think: she wants to know what sort of man I am. He found that encouraging.

  He shook his head. "It was long ago. I was twenty when we married, and we went to Italy for the honeymoon. Six weeks we were gone, and the first night Liza says, 'I have the strangest feeling we've made a child.' I said nothing, but when her blood never came, we saw a doctor in Milan who told us that her feelings were correct. We were so happy." He hadn't thought about Liza for years now. How could I have forgotten her?

  "What happened?"

  "We were back here in Bridges in the zeppelin station, when a robbery happened next to us. I never saw it; the police said the man's shot missed its target and hit her. She fell, and died there in my arms."

  "I'm so sorry."

  "I've been much longer without her than with her." Acevedo pondered that for a while, remembering that golden summer when he was truly happy. "At first I could think of nothing else." He glanced at Katherine. "Someday, the pain you feel now will lessen."

  She nodded, eyes downcast, and sat quietly for some time. "Sir, I have no dowry for my daughter. But —"

  Acevedo said, "I don't understand."

  "You have spoken of my daughter highly. You offered her a job. You came to rescue her, offering her your coat, even bringing her into your home. In six months, she'll be of age. I wanted you to know where we stood, since you've shown your interest so plainly."

  He gaped at Katherine. "I'm afraid you've misunderstood me, madam. Your daughter is beautiful, intelligent, and hard-working. I'm sure she'll make some young man a fine and dutiful wife. But she's a child, and I'm her teacher. I hold no regard for her in that way." He felt deflated. "I'm sorry."

  Katherine appeared taken aback. "My apologies, sir." Their eyes met, and her cheeks reddened. "Oh."

  Acevedo said, "I couldn't allow you to remain there." He glanced away, embarrassed. "But don't trouble yourself; think of it as one friend helping another. As soon as you're able, we'll find you a place to stay, should you wish to go."

  Chapter Three

  October 1st

  Ocho Malize stood at attention outside the throne room. Almost the end of his first week in this new post. Night duty wasn't too bad so far: four hours outside night court, four hours outside the royal bedchambers. Easy compared to patrolling the halls downstairs.

  A group of judges approached, seven old men in robes stopping three paces away. One moved his hand towards his new superior, Arthur Cassino.

  Ocho's hand moved to his weapon, but in the judge's hand was a document, which his third took.

  "I believe we're expected," the judge said, glancing at Ocho.

  Cassino handed the paper back to the judge and nodded.

  The clock across the hall chimed the quarter hour, and the doors opened by timer. Cassino said you could open them whenever you wanted, but this way they could watch the people coming in and out, which seemed like a good idea. A group of judges came out, and the group outside went in.

  "You gotta stop doing that," Cassino said. "Relax. This is about the easiest job you're gonna find. You're not on patrol duty anymore." He turned his face to the setting sun. "Worst thing you'll find here is sore feet."

  It seemed to Ocho that security was pretty lax up here, especially with the protests going on all the time. But he wasn't in charge.

  A robed figure came down the hall; a woman. Young, pretty. "Hey Arthur," she said.

  "Hey, Tina," his third said. "You bring us anything?"

  She put her hand in her pocket and came out with a flask. "Can I go in and see grandpa? I got a message for him."

  "You sure your grandpa won't mind?"

  "Oh, no, he's actually expecting it. I'm kind of nervous, I've never been in there this late before."

  "Women aren't allowed in night court," Ocho said.

  "Shut up, Ocho, you're gonna scare the girl." Cassino turned to Tina. "Don't mind him: he's new." He glanced at the clock. "Three minutes til the door opens." Cassino reached out his hand, and she handed him the flask, which he took.

  Ocho stared at it, horrified. "What the hell is this? We don't drink on duty."

  "Come on, Ocho, relax. We're here all night." He handed the flask across the doorway. "Not gonna hurt you to take a swig."

  Ocho hesitated. Did Head Guard Alcatraz know they were out here drinking?

  Both of them stared at him. "Goddamnit, Malize," Cassino said. "Hurry up."

  Feeling self-conscious, Ocho took the flask, drank the smallest amount he could, and handed it back. Damn, that's strong stuff.

  Cassino took a long drink from the flask, then handed it to Tina. "You're a lifesaver."

  She smiled, amused. "Don't mention it." The doors opened and she went in. The judges didn't come out, but that wasn't unusual; sometimes King Taylor allowed them two slots for important matters.

  Ocho didn't dare say anything more. It was clear he had a lot of adjusting to do. He yawned.

  "Don't start that," Cassino said. "You're gonna get me yawning too."

  Xavier stood next to the King on duty as the night court droned on. Jack told him an odd story at dinner. A girl had been missing from school for three days. Mr. Spadros didn't appear either on the third day; the Headmaster taught the class. Now the girl and Mr. Spadros were both back, several days now. But on his return, Mr. Spadros wished to discuss King Taylor's reign, of all things. He gave the students a strange assignment: a report on the history of the fence encircling the city, with a prize for the one presenting the most factual account.

  I thought they had just begun Bridges history.

  A lot of strange things were happening. His fourth, Alan Whist, found dead in an alley two weeks ago, for one thing. This new man Malize was the best of the downstairs patrol guard, been here for years. But Xavier didn't like having to move him up so quickly. Normally a person for that role — standing so close to the King — was vetted and trained for months before starting. And the police had no clues as to who murdered Whist.

  Then a young woman entered, which too was odd; women were normally not allowed in night court. Why did Cassino let her in? Xavier and his second, Fritz Zepik, who stood on the other side of the King, exchanged a puzzled glance. The woman was veiled, with fine breasts and a slim waist barely hidden beneath a thin flowing gown, her hips swaying as she passed by them to speak to Polansky Kerr. Kerr glanced at Xavier and their eyes locked.

  It was then Xavier recognized the woman: Tina Kerr, one of the King's great-granddaughters. The Prince's granddaughter. Heart pounding, Xavier snapped his focus to the view in front, the judges lined up before them. The woman left several minutes later.

  Why was she allowed in? Why did King Taylor not say anything about it?

  I shall have to reprimand the Guards outside. His men knew better than this.

  The judges left, and when the doors opened once more, Xavier expected the next set of judges. Instead the woman entered, and behind her, several dozen armed men.

  Xavier pulled his pistol. A gurgling sound came to his right. Polansky Kerr stood over King Taylor with a bloody knife, laughing as blood gushed from his father's throat.

  Fritz Zepik lay dead, his throat cut.

  "Now, now, Mr. Alcatraz," Polansky Kerr said. "Your second has murdered the King before any of us could stop him. I took my revenge, though, and if you're a smart man, that's what everyone else will hea
r." His smile grew unpleasant. "If not, I have a man sitting outside your home right now. Jack and Joy. What lovely names. And such lovely children." He wiped his blade, put it away.

  Xavier seethed. "You've said what you need to."

  "Good." Kerr paused. "Guards!"

  No answer. Terrified, Xavier pushed past Kerr's men, rushed into the hall; his men lay on the ground. Ocho Malize was unconscious, Arthur Cassino was dead. Xavier knelt beside Arthur's body and screamed, "Guards!"

  It was almost midnight. Xavier paced outside Malize's hospital room. Arthur's dead. What would he tell the man's family? That he suspected the Prince had him killed?

  The doctor came out, and Xavier went to him. "What happened?"

  "Poison," the doctor said. "Your man here only took the tiniest amount, fortunately. He should be improved in the next day or so, but I'd give him a few days before putting him back to work."

  "Can I see him?"

  The doctor nodded and Xavier rushed to Malize's side. He had to know who did this. "Ocho, wake up."

  Malize moaned.

  Xavier patted Malize's cheek. "Wake up."

  "Whaa?" Malize opened his eyes.

  "Do you remember what happened?"

  Malize hesitated, then frowned. "I — the last thing I remember was ... I was at home, getting ready for work." He looked up at Xavier. "What happened?"

  "Zepik and Cassino are dead."

  Malize stared at Xavier in horror. "Who? How?"

  Xavier glanced away. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you." He patted Malize's arm. What do I do? First Whist, now Cassino and Zepik. "Just rest. You've been promoted. You're my new second, as soon as you're on your feet."

  Malize looked as if he were going to be sick.

  Chapter Four

  October 8th

  A week after his father's murder, Xavier stood beside Polansky Kerr as he was crowned in front of a cheering crowd.

  After his coronation, Kerr went to the podium. "My beloved people:

  "Thank you for your expressions of love and sorrow for my father. He worked tirelessly to help this city prosper. And he was cut down cruelly by a man who cared nothing for his life's work. That man — who hardly deserves that name — was a poor, unwashed boy we in the city of Bridges gave a chance to."

  What? Xavier thought. Fritz was a gentleman, the same as all of us.

  "But he took those chances — free education, food and clothing, admission into the Guard, being raised to the Throne Room itself — and spit on it. Just as every person — no, I won't call them people. Every FAILURE outside the fence. These failures — and many more taking our handouts — are a menace to our way of life. They take and take, yet give nothing in return. They spit on our generosity. They are birthed by loose women, raised into immoral, wanton behavior, grow up on violence, and die having taken your hard work and destroyed it." He shook his fist. "They killed my father. I vow to rid the city of them, if I have to kill every last one."

  Xavier stood next to Polansky Kerr during that speech. He and Malize exchanged a horrified glance, then Xavier stared out into the crowd. What can I do?

  Chapter Five

  October 9th

  The classroom was in agitation when Acevedo walked in, and honestly, he didn't blame them. He shut the door. "Tell me what you're thinking."

  Every student raised their hands. But Molly stood, and the rest of the room quieted. "My mother and I didn't do anything wrong. But men came and took us outside, and I met a lot of good people there. There were some bad, but even they helped us. Mr. Spadros helped us. If it wasn't for him, my Ma and I would be there now. This man wants to kill people like me!" Tears filled her eyes. "There are little kids there, old people." She stared at Acevedo with horror. "I think he's not a good King." She sat, putting her head in her hands, weeping as the other girls comforted her.

  Jack stood. "My dad's scared. He's in the Throne Guard, and ... I think he saw something the day the King died. He won't talk about it. That's not like him." He shook his head. "Something's wrong."

  Something's wrong. The room fell silent.

  A chill went down Acevedo's spine. "I want to say something."

  Everyone stared at him.

  "The benevolent monarchy is a good form of government. But monarchy can quickly move to dictatorship." He paused. How do I say this so they understand? "There is a time in the life cycle of every dictatorship where things can be stopped. Where speaking out makes a difference. Past that time, the horror must run its course, and all you can do is flee, fight, or just survive." He took a deep breath, let it out. "I don't know where we are in the cycle. For now, you must say nothing, not to your best friends, your brothers, sisters, not even your parents. I want you all to live through this."

  "But what can we do?" Jack said.

  "For now? Do nothing. I know it's a lot to ask. Sometimes nothing is the most difficult thing to do. You may not be old enough to do it." That sparked several of them into a renewed courage. "But you must, if not for your own life, for the lives of your families." Acevedo shook his head. "If you speak out when it's past that point I spoke of, you won't accomplish anything but dying. I must find out what is going on, and whether it can be stopped. And if we can stop this, I assure you, I'll do everything I know of to try."

  Chapter Six

  October 12th

  Xavier stood beside King Polansky Kerr. For all his silence in the past, the man seemed to be unable to stop talking now he was King. The glass of Party Time in his hand probably didn't help matters. Several scribes sat taking notes.

  "First we need to clear the streets. Search the parks, the embankments, and under the bridges. Anyone without a home must be moved outside the city. Close down the shelters and move those people outside too. Contact the landlords, the banks — I want the names of anyone who's behind on their bills. They need to go as well."

  His adviser — who had formerly been adviser to King Taylor — sounded astonished. "Is that legal?"

  "Who cares? I'm the King. You'll do as I say. Or would you rather go with them?"

  The man blanched. "No, sir."

  Kerr seemed pleased. "On to the next topic: food. The grain shipments need more guards — we've had two ambushed so far this week."

  "Sir," Xavier said.

  Kerr turned to him. "What?"

  "Permission to speak freely, sir."

  "That's 'Your Majesty' to you. Very well. You're the Head of the Guard. What do you want to say?"

  "We have no more Guards available to deploy on grain shipments. I've lost four Guardsmen this month already."

  "Don't worry about it," Kerr said. "I have men I can use. Bring those others back on the island."

  "Yes, Your Majesty," Xavier said.

  "Now, back to the matter at hand. I want all trash trucks dusted with ashes before dumping their loads. We don't need to give those miscreants our hard-earned food. They don't deserve it. And stop those damned women from feeding them!"

  "Women?" A scribe said.

  "Those Dealers."

  "How shall we stop them?"

  "I don't care. Kill them if you have to."

  The men stared at the King in shock. The Dealers were the holy women of the city's major religion! After a moment's silence, one said, "Yes, your Majesty."

  "Once that's done, we'll go through the poor camps and burn them to the ground. Kill them all. Anyone who survives, we hunt down and shoot. Get rid of the freeloaders. Bring Bridges back to its former glory."

  "Y-yes, sir. I mean, Your Majesty."

  Kerr turned to Xavier. "I want plans drawn up for the attack. Six months from today ought to be enough time to get this ready. March 12th. Make it happen."

  Xavier didn't move, didn't breathe. There were over a hundred thousand people past the fence, most of them women and children. What was happening?

  Chapter Seven

  October 13th

  The next morning as Xavier was preparing to leave, his second, Ocho Malize, came up to him. "A
re we really going to do this?"

  He's threatened my children. "What do you suggest we do?"

  The man glanced away. "I don't know."

  * * *

  Xavier's children were almost ready for school when Xavier got home. But Jack was unusually quiet at breakfast. "Son, are you well?"

  "Dad, we said we would invite Mr. Spadros to dinner."

  In all the turmoil, he had forgotten. "I apologize. Ask him if he'll come tonight."

  Jack gave a weak smile, and didn't meet Xavier's eye. "Okay, Dad."

  After Jack and Joy left for school, Xavier tried to sleep, but couldn't. Kill them all. Burn them to the ground. Anyone who survives, we hunt down and shoot.

  This wasn't what he joined the Guard for.

  A shocking thought crossed his mind: I should kill him.

  Xavier was the Head of the Guard, whose primary duty was to the Royal Family. To even think of harming one of them was treason. He rolled on his side, head in his hands, the pressure between his duty and his morals squeezing the life from him. I can't live like this anymore.

  But then he thought: I can't even kill him in his sleep. Xavier and all the Throne Guard had been barred from the royal bed-chambers. In spite of the fact the man was both married and a grandfather, the royal bed-chambers had been turned into Polansky Kerr's playground, with dozens of young women going in and out at all hours. Polansky's men tasted the food, the wine, and supervised the cleaning of plates, which were rewashed before the food was plated. This king was suspicious of everyone.

  But what could Xavier do about it? People already looked on him with suspicion. Between the King's death and Xavier's sudden demotion after, rumors were flying that he had been negligent somehow.

  He remembered the woman in the room. She was a trap, he thought, ashamed and angry. She certainly trapped me.