The Cumerian Unraveling Trilogy (Scars of Ambition, Vendetta Clause, Cycles of Power)

by Jason Letts

  “They wouldn’t listen to anything I said about what had happened. One of them grabbed me by the arm and I jerked away, but he hit me in the stomach with the club he carried. I tried to run away but they hit me again in the shoulder. Others came over and they were crowding around me, knocking me around. I don’t even know how it ended, but they must’ve taken the old woman. Something must’ve made me black out, but when I regained consciousness I was on the ground. The trucks were all over, but they stopped paying me any attention. That’s when Ralph found me,” Cori said.

  Randall, aghast at the entire story, turned to Ralph.

  “I was having a mid-day reprieve at the bar and happened to see her there when I was coming back. She could barely walk,” he said.

  For a moment Randall didn’t know what to say. There were the obvious things about how terrible the unprovoked attack was, but there was something else about the unique position Randall was in that made the entire invasion even more unconscionable.

  “We have to make sure no one else has to endure the kind of pointless suffering you went through,” Randall said, taking Cori’s hand. “Whatever kind of order the Guard is trying to impose with their takeover, that strays as far from what Cumeria is about as Aggart’s regime or the prior business culture’s rampant excesses. We have to find a middle path that encompasses accountability, responsibility, and productivity.”

  Cori smiled and produced a weak chuckle that seemed to pain her.

  “If all it took was a run in with the Guard to get you to produce a genuine campaign speech, I’d get in their faces a lot more often,” she said.

  “Well we’re going to have a tough time doing anything as long as the Guard has the entire city on lockdown,” Ralph said.

  “Captain Keran broke into our chamber during the session and threw us all out on the street. He’s taken over the Spiral and claimed control of the Cumerian government, voiding all of the work we’d been doing on a new national charter.”

  Cori gasped and forced herself to sit up. Some of her hair fell over her face, but she brushed it away.

  “He’d better hole himself up there good and tight,” she said.

  “You think he knows he’s not going to be able to wrestle control of the country without a fight?” Randall asked.

  “It’s inevitable that one of the premier families shows up to try to dislodge them. The only question is if they’ll have the equipment necessary and if they’ll have the element of surprise. If Keran can fortify the capital, it’ll be really hard for anyone to make it to the Spiral.”

  Randall sat back and tried to think.

  “There’s got to be something we can do to try to dislodge the Guard. I’m not interested in a takeover by the Wozniaks either, but there must be a way to shake the city loose.”

  “Are you talking about openly antagonizing the Guard?” Ralph asked, raising an eyebrow. Randall frowned and tilted his head.

  “Whether we want to admit it or not, the fighting has already begun. But any open attack on the Guard will be met with swift retribution. What we need is to coordinate with others who see this takeover for what it is and want to fight back. If we get enough people together to prick them a hundred different ways at once—flat tires, stolen equipment, poisoned food—it might be enough to provoke a disproportionate response that can be exploited. If a good portion of the Guard is made up of abducted citizens, a big impression could convince them to switch sides,” Randall said, starting to feel the excitement.

  Keran may have thought he was putting their cause to rest, but he was actually giving Randall a huge opportunity to form a resistance movement.

  “If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to sit out organizing your underground movement for now,” Cori said.

  “That’s completely fine,” Randall agreed. “Ralph and I will take care of the outreach. When Keran let us go, he must’ve been convinced that we weren’t a threat, but he’ll see exactly how unwelcome he is.”

  “It’s still an awful longshot to do anything that’ll seriously throw them off their bearings,” Ralph said. As grim as the chances were, Randall couldn’t just let things go on like this.

  The phone in his pocket from Angela Lu started to buzz, and Randall saw another serendipitous opportunity. He hadn’t heard from her since she derailed Ralph’s court nomination, but now that Randall had satisfied her, the Lu Dynasty could possibly be of help with the Guard.

  “Maybe we won’t be fighting them alone,” Randall said, grinning as he removed the phone from his pocket and stood up. It continued to buzz as he went into his office. Closing the door, he felt he needed some space in order to play his cards right. When he brought the phone to his ear, a familiar voice came through the received.

  “Randall Bracken.”

  “Angela Lu.”

  While her voice had previously sounded scratchy on the device, this time it sounded much better. Either they’d managed to improve the software and the signal, or there was another reason her voice transmitted much clearer.

  “I trust you have not forgotten about me or the debt that you owe to us. I have yet another request to make,” she said. Randall cringed, but he knew it was time to push back. It was possible Qi Ptock was ejected from his position as well now that the Guard had entered the city. Angela and Qi must have had some kind of connection for her to be asking favors on his behalf. Randall needed to get to the bottom of it.

  “That’s great, because I actually have a request to make from you as well. And I have a hunch that we’re talking about the exact same thing,” Randall said.

  “Mr. Bracken, after all we’ve done for you, I don’t believe you are in any position to be asking for more from us. You will do what we say as per our agreement, or there will be consequences,” Angela said. Her voice was as smooth as silk, intoxicating almost. If only the words she said didn’t have to be so ruthless.

  Randall paused for a moment, considering how to proceed. If what they wanted was the same thing, the ouster of the Guard in Toine, then perhaps he didn’t actually need to ask for anything at all.

  “Fine then. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you want,” Randall said, going behind his desk and looking out the window at the Spiral. If there was any way to get back in that building, it was with the help of the Lus.

  “Mr. Bracken, we’ve become interested in the ruined facilities of Bracken Energy in the ClawLands. Since you have neither the manpower nor the inclination to repair or operate them, we expect you to deed those properties over to us for our exclusive ownership and use.”

  The phone dropped out of Randall’s hand and clattered around the desk as he frantically attempted to retrieve it.

  “What?” Randall asked, blindsided.

  “Were you unable to hear me?” Angela asked, her voice calm and steady as ever.

  “I don’t think I could. It seemed like you wanted me to sign over my family’s homeland and all of our industrial capability. That can’t be right.”

  “Mr. Bracken…” she began, but he knew what he was going to get.

  “No. The answer is no. There is no way I or anyone else can just hand over all of that property to you. It’s not for sale under any circumstances,” Randall said.

  “Nowhere in your contract with us are you permitted to say no to anything we ask for. And I am not proposing to buy your property. The expectation is that you will give it to us. I encourage you one more time to think about what might happen to you if we are required to collect our debt in another manner,” Angela said.

  Randall paced back and forth, anguishing over the position she was putting him in. He couldn’t be the one who abandoned the very thing that lifted the Brackens to prominence. Those plants, factories, and pods were part of a shared heritage in the ClawLands and one of the few things they had left. Even though the explosion had destroyed so much, one day it could be fixed and another generation of Brackens could lead Cumeria’s economy.

  “Why do you even want it?” Randall sai
d. It was the only thing he could think of to say after the enduring silence became unbearable.

  “It’s well known to you that the Lu Dynasty would like to extend our influence in Cumeria. That is the reason we aided your bid for the chancellorship in the first place. In the rubble of your fallen empire, there may be some technologies that could be useful to us.”

  A sudden wave of anger swept over Randall at the thought that she expected him to forsake his entire home on the chance that they might find a few machines worth taking. Either she wasn’t telling him the whole truth, which was likely, or she just wanted to see how far she could push him before he snapped. If she wanted to come and try to kill him, she’d need to get through the Guard’s occupying force first.

  “Angela Lu, here’s what I think of your proposal and your technologies,” he said.

  Randall set the phone down on the desk, grasped a hefty old-fashioned stapler from a nearby table, and used it to smash the phone into pieces with one swift swing and a loud bang. His breathing labored, Randall glared at the divot on the surface of his desk before opening the office door and returning to Cori and Ralph in the lobby. Both of them looked alarmed.

  “I have a new enemy. Or maybe she’s always been my enemy.”

  After the shocks that Cori and Randall received, it wasn’t until the next cycle that Ralph and Randall were able to begin coordinating their resistance in earnest. Just from a furtive stroll around the area, they could see that merely being a presence on the street was not enough for Captain Keran. The entire town had been shut down, including every shop, tavern, and market. The Guard was now distributing all of the food through makeshift pantries and soup kitchens.

  “Where are we even supposed to find anybody to conspire with if everything is closed?” Randall asked as they returned to his office building. He was exasperated and feeling moody after such a long run of bad luck. Ralph, who was a full foot and a half shorter than Randall, looked over and shook his head.

  “Come on, kid. Have you got cornmeal between your ears? What’s the one thing that brings people together more than anything else?”

  “Sex,” Randall answered.

  “People like me,” Ralph said.

  “Money? No, alcohol.”

  “Booze, exactly,” Ralph said, grinning. “Trust me, within five minutes of them shutting down the tavern, there was already an underground movement dedicated to smuggling and consuming spirits right here in Toine.”

  Randall nodded. He should’ve guessed Ralph would latch onto something like this.

  “And where do you think we can find them?” Randall asked.

  “Anyone who’s spent any serious time in Drownin’ Hops knows that the house specialty is a dangerously potent grain alcohol made in a bathtub at a ramshackle distillery right here in town. I think I asked where it was five or six times, but for some reason I only remember hearing the answer once.”

  Although Randall wasn’t exactly inspired by Ralph’s account, and he wasn’t sure if the people clamoring after bathtub booze were really the ones who’d help him form a finely tuned political operation, they agreed to set out later in the cycle for the distillery on the north side of town.

  Whatever Randall expected to find in a distillery was thoroughly dashed when he saw what appeared to be an outhouse with a pipe coming through the top. It was hidden among a cluster of dilapidated buildings that Randall couldn’t have been paid to approach under normal circumstances. His best guess was that the Guard members had steered clear even though they were being paid.

  “The guy who runs the operation here was actually thrown out of the Guard long ago for insubordination and ethics violations. His name is Wals Klieder, and he usually put in a few shifts a week behind the bar,” Ralph said.

  The pair progressed onto the property and approached the solitary shed in the middle near a pile of worn-out tires and some broken pallets. The smell struck Randall immediately. It was as if he’d stuck his nose in a bottle of vodka.

  “At least we’re in the right place,” he said.

  Ralph opened the door to the shed, which actually contained little more than a stairwell into the ground. The smell became even stronger, so much so that Randall wondered if it were possible to become intoxicated merely from the vapors. But they’d only taken a few steps down before they heard voices too. Randall and Ralph ducked down to see the cluster that had suddenly gone quiet as they noticed the newcomers.

  “What’s a guy gotta do around here to get a drink?” Ralph bellowed. The group laughed and the clinking of glasses resumed. Within about ten seconds Randall had a tin cup in his hand half-filled with a cloudy liquid. The group watched him take a sip and cough then erupted into laughter again.

  While Ralph caroused with the group, Randall tried to take it easy on the grain alcohol and scout out which fellow here was Wals Klieder. All of them men seemed to be from Toine’s bottom rung, and none of them seemed to possess many qualities besides a startling ability to withstand the effects of the liquor.

  “Who are we looking for here?” Randall whispered to Ralph under the cover of another round of raucous laughter. Ralph nodded his head ever so slightly toward the staircase, and Randall nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed the pair of eyes and bear of a man hunched underneath it.

  As soon as they locked eyes, Wals emerged from his corner. Tall and built like a tree trunk, he might’ve given Taylor a run even at his old age. A white bristly beard partially covered a stony face. Randall could only guess what Wals must’ve seen to regard the world in such a cold, detached way.

  “It appears we have a newcomer,” the man said, quieting down the rest of the cohort. “Why don’t we take a moment to get acquainted?”

  As Wals came over, he had to constantly mind the low ceiling, which had pipes and boards that threatened his scalp. Randall immediately extended a hand.

  “I’m Randall Bracken, sir…”

  “Don’t give me that “sir” business,” Wals groaned. “I’m nobody and you know it. And I know well enough who you are, even though you’re nobody too. That’s not at all what I meant by getting acquainted. Let’s get acquainted with the reason why someone like you is somewhere like this.”

  Ralph stepped into the mix and patted Wals on the back and gave him a cup, which he drank like a cactus in the desert.

  “I brought him over because of the shit going on above,” Ralph said.

  “There’s no doubt in my mind that you have a good feel for what’s going on in town,” Randall said. “And you have to know that the people here need to plan a response to the unwelcome intrusion of Captain Keran and the Guard.”

  “A response? What obligation does the citizenry of Toine have to respond to the Guard?” Wals asked. The questions were offputting, especially since the answers seemed self-evident to Randall.

  “Why, we need to make it clear that this level of control and interference in the nation stands at odds with the Cumerian way of life. We must stand up together and find a way to expel these intruders and their forced laborers from our city. Then we can get back to creating a reasonable and accountable government.”

  Wals squinted and sucked on his dark purple lip. The other men around remained quiet. Randall had the impression the man was unpredictable, and his support was far from guaranteed.

  “Who wants to go take on the Guard?” Wals bellowed loud enough to sting Randall’s ears. He extended his arms and clenched his fists. The men in the basement laughed again. “Me neither.”

  “But shouldn’t we do something about the takeover?” Randall asked, stepping closer to Wals and almost getting in his face.

  “Why would we want to do that? That’s the problem with you, Sir Bracken. You’ve always got the notion that you need to do something in order to achieve a desired result. I much prefer to sit back and wait for it to come to me,” Wals said, setting a hand on one of the ceiling boards and leaning against it.

  “How is it going to benefit any of us to stand by w
hile the Guard gets further entrenched?” Randall asked. He was losing his patience and started to regret ever asking for help from these louses. Wals again peered hard at Randall.

  “You’re pulling my leg, right? I don’t believe for a second you’re not fully cognizant of the position we’re in. What exactly would be the point of running out there now, antagonizing the Guard, and maybe dying in the process? What you’re missing is that if you wait just a little longer, someone else will come in and do the job for us. By the time any of the premier families hear about this coup, they’ll be rushing to Toine before their chance slips away. If I’m not mistaken some are on their way already.”

  Randall took a step back and glanced over at Ralph, who was deep in thought. Neither of them thought they were so close to fighting in earnest between some of the biggest powers in Cumeria. And if it played out as Wals thought it would, all of the bloodshed would happen right over head.

  “Then what…‌what do you think’s going to happen?” Randall asked.

  “I must say I much prefer the sound of lying low at this point. There’s no telling if anything in Toine will be left standing after this,” Ralph said.

  Wals crossed his arms over his burly chest and glanced at the ceiling.

  “In the cycles ahead, Cumeria will die and be reborn a thousand times. Each gunshot or swing of a sword will be a quake threatening to tear the land apart. The time for reasoned debate and civility is over. Only those left standing at the end will have the chance to recast society of their own accord. Let us all carry in our core the hope that it be someone with sense enough and dignity to set a course where the fighting lay behind.”

  CHAPTER 9