Citizen Second Class- Apocalypse Next

by Robert Chazz Chute

  “I told you not to try to be funny.”

  “Just something my grandmother would say.”

  “Biometrics tells us you belong in a little town from up north I’ve barely heard of.”

  “Campbellford. I don’t belong there, either.”

  Evelyn reached down. She must have had a purse or a case with her. When she sat up, she held a cigar and, after much puffing and sucking, lit it. She blew a smoke ring. “I get these from the New Cuban Republic, Kismet. They are quite a treat. Cigars are my luxury. You seem to be indulging in a luxury, as well. Can you guess what that might be?”

  “From where I sit, I can’t think of a single one, ma’am.”

  “Your luxury is a delusion of grandeur. You think you don’t belong where you came from.”

  “I left Grammy and came to Atlanta to look for work.”

  “Long way to come. Why not look somewhere else?”

  “Everywhere else is farther.”

  Evelyn blew another perfect ring of smoke. She looked relaxed but I suspected she was playing for time, gathering her thoughts before coming at me again. “Your ‘grammy,’ hm? Quaint.”

  “I’d say sweet.”

  “Don’t contradict me, girl. If I say it’s quaint, that’s what it is. Where are your parents?”

  “Both career military.” I looked at the floor and blinked away a tear. “Duty called them elsewhere.”

  She sighed and I had the impression Evelyn would rather be somewhere else, too. “So you claim no knowledge. You had no warning of what was coming despite the fact that you were with the driver of the truck who helped the prisoners escape. You had no ulterior motives or expectation of a reward when you stepped in to stop the men who damaged the red car?”

  “I had no foreknowledge whatsoever, no. You talk like I had time to think about it. I didn’t. I heard the little girl screaming and I couldn’t stand it. I had to stop them to protect her.”

  “You seem very well-spoken. You can read, can’t you?”

  “Read, write, type, skip rope, sure.”

  “How does a homeless girl who sleeps in a shelter know a word like ‘foreknowledge?’”

  “I’m an educated fool, I guess. My mother was hurt in the Middle East. An IED took her left leg. She was on medical leave for a long time. Grammy’s got no use for proper grammar but when Mama was home, I was homeschooled. My parents were educated — ”

  “In the military?”

  “No, they met in the military. My father went to Boston University. My mother attended McGill.” I hastened to add, “before the Water Wars.” All this information could be gleaned from my biometric record but I sensed Evelyn doubted me.

  “How did your father get the money to get an education at BU?”

  “My grandfather on Daddy’s side owned a furniture business in Boston. My mother’s father was in the import/export business, mostly drugs from Canada. The crash killed the furniture business and the embargo and the Water War threw Mama’s dad into bankruptcy.”

  Evelyn straightened. She seemed to look at me in a new light. “These businesses … they were successful before?”

  “Granddaddy owned four furniture stores and a carpet store. Papa Bear had a big house in New Brunswick and a bigger house in Boston. When the border closed, he was on the wrong side. We haven’t had any messages from him since. He was old. He’s probably dead by now.”

  “You might have been a Select — ”

  “Oh, my grandparents were well off but we were never that rich.”

  “Do not interrupt me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “And do not refer to the Select as rich or wealthy. That’s coarse and inaccurate. The Select Few are blessed. Perhaps your grandparents would have done better had they not fallen from grace.”

  I bristled. “Bad luck, is all.”

  “Believing in luck, good or bad, is one of the ways people fall from grace.

  Evelyn’s chair scraped the floor as she stood and turned to the surveillance camera. “I have all I need. Unless there is something else for you, cut her loose. She doesn’t know anything useful about anything.”

  I was nothing more than an insect that had somehow found my way into her house.

  “Kismet, I would suggest you return to your grandmother in your little village and, like Lot’s wife, maybe you better not look back.”

  I shook my head. “Good advice. Can’t take it. Gotta find a job, ma’am.”

  Evelyn took another long drag from her cigar. “I have two additional questions. First, about confronting those men, would you do the same again, given the choice?”

  “That kid was scared. I don’t want to be the kind of person who would ignore something like that. It’s not about having a choice. My reaction bypassed thought.”

  “Reactions that bypass thought are often dangerous. Dumb people bypass thought all the time.”

  “Do you think saving that child was dumb?”

  She ignored my question. “Tell me, what is your greatest fear, Kismet?”

  I searched for one answer among too many possibilities and settled on the most personal and truthful. “That I’m not enough, or will never be enough.”

  Evelyn took a long drag and blew another perfect smoke ring. “That’s a good answer. You’re right to fear that. You will never be enough.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. “Are you done with me?”

  “I have a job for you.”

  “I don’t want to be a spy for CSS.”

  Evelyn laughed. “I don’t work for them. They work to serve and protect me and my family.” She glared at the surveillance camera and, when she spoke with heat, her British accent slipped a little. “Which they very nearly failed to do!”

  “You’re Eileen’s mother?” I asked.

  “I stand among the Select Few now but I’ve been where you are. What you could never understand is a person in my position. People are always begging, demanding more of us. Everyone wants something and no one does anything for selfless reasons. And yet here you are, saving my daughter without a thought in your head. That sort of empty-headedness approaches sainthood these days.”

  “Thanks … I think.”

  “I must seem harsh to you but I have to be careful about social climbers. You can’t be one of them. You have no guile. Your brain was elsewhere but your heart was in the right place. You are salvageable.”

  “I’m dizzy from all these compliments!”

  She smiled. “Conspiracies are beyond you but everyone wants something. Tell me, what is it you really want? Name your selfish desire.”

  “A place to sleep and regular hot meals.”

  Evelyn was pretty but her smile was not. “Gloriously low expectations. How simple your life must be. How happy you must be.”

  “Not so far. Outside the wall, regular meals and a safe place to sleep are hard to come by. You say you’ve been in my position. Maybe you’ve forgotten some of it.”

  She laughed. “For rescuing my daughter, you have my sincere thanks. You can continue to look out for my daughter. Maybe you can skip rope with her. Eye likes that.”

  “I … accept.”

  Evelyn pinned me in my seat with an intense gaze. “You did something without thought that was over in seconds. I owe you for that. To be clear, though, I’m taking you on for a commitment that should last a long time if you do well by me. You’re getting this chance because of one well-spent minute of your life. My investment in you could last years. You owe me. Understood?”

  Evelyn didn’t wait for my answer. Instead, she spun on her heel to leave. “When they let you out, wait out front. I’ll send someone to pick you up. I have to get back. Eye has been so traumatized by all this, it’s absolutely unconscionable.”

  So it wasn’t an interrogation. It was a job interview.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As I stepped out of the cold detention center, humidity enveloped me so quickly and completely the effect was claustrophobic. I was still trembling as swea
t trickled down my neck.

  I’d only been away for days but it already felt like weeks. Was Grammy pestering Lisa for my whereabouts, wondering when I’d return to Campbellford? The better question was, would I ever get back?

  As I shook my tingling hands and rubbed my wrists to get the circulation back, an electric blue pickup truck pulled up beside me. The old woman at the wheel wore a dark blue visor to shield her eyes and a red apron with white pinstripes. She’d been a brunette but was now mostly gray. I guessed she was in her late 70s. Her hair was piled high, much as Evelyn Rossi’s had been. I wondered if that was the common style within New Atlanta.

  “I’m looking for a girl by the name of Kismet. That you?”

  “Yes.”

  “If true, what’s your last name?”

  “Beatriz.”

  She nodded and unlocked the doors. “I’m Wanda. Get in.”

  I climbed in beside her and she sped off. “Mrs. Rossi wanted to know if CSS had any more questions for you.”

  “No, they seemed to leave all that to her. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess the CSS is a little afraid of Evelyn.”

  “Mostly respect, I suspect. She came up from nothin’ and now she’s Captain of the Guard. And that’s Mrs. Rossi to you.”

  “Mrs. Rossi, then. I had no idea of her rank. Her English accent sure threw me — ”

  “Sh! She can talk whatever way she likes.”

  “I’m trying to understand so I don’t make mistakes in front of them.“

  “Too many questions are not healthy.”

  “I thought the CSS handled all policing and I wondered if her accent was real and — ”

  I’d been in the truck for less than two minutes. Wanda gave a long-suffering sigh as if I’d been bothering her all my life. “Citizen Security and Safety is for everything outside the wall. Different rules inside the Circle. You’ll learn all this as you go. Listen more than you talk, always. You’re in high cotton now so you better start acting like it if you expect to last.”

  “Isn’t it strange that not even one CSS detective had any questions for me, though?”

  She shook her head. “Not strange at all if you know who really runs this town. Besides, they know who they’re after. It’s not like they’re going to have a trial after they catch up with those runners.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “The Select Few banish climbers and shoot spies. I hear you were armed when you were arrested. It’s dangerous to have a weapon on you when you’re arrested. You’re lucky to be alive.”

  “The bastards kept my knives.”

  “No rough talk. If Mrs. Rossi hears any foul language around Eye, you’re gone. As for your weapons, Mrs. Rossi has them. You’ll get the knives back when you leave her employ.”

  “They told me they were keeping my weapons and my backpack.”

  “I hope you didn’t make too much of a fuss. They were messing with you.”

  “They did laugh a lot as I walked out the door.”

  “CSS agents aren’t paid particularly well. They have to get their fun where they can.”

  I thought again about the rough hands that had groped me when I’d arrived at their jail. I could still feel where I’d been mauled, sore places. I cursed under my breath.

  I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Whenever I felt nervous, holding the grips of my parents’ combat knives made me feel a little better. My father’s knife made me feel strong. My mother’s blade made me feel lucky. When I touched the hair clip Chantelle had given me, I felt no solace, only danger.

  Wanda glanced away from the road to look me up and down. “Skinny little thing, aren’t ya? You eaten?”

  I hadn’t eaten anything since the shelter that morning. It was early evening and I was ravenous. Wanda pointed at the basket between us. “Have a couple of carrots. That’ll fill you up for now. Not more than two, mind. I’m making borscht tonight. You’re in luck tomorrow. I got hold of some cornmeal so I’m making polenta. You know what that is?”

  “No.”

  “Everybody loves my polenta. I call it my job security meal. Nobody makes it as good as me.”

  The carrots looked like dirty twisted thumbs. I began to brush them off. Wanda told me not to soil her truck. “You gotta eat a pecka dirt before you die. It’s good for you, minerals and whatnot. Have a chaw and a gnaw.”

  Too hungry to be too fussy, I ate. “I take it you’re the Rossi’s cook?”

  “Chief cook and bottle washer, yeah. The carrots are good, huh?”

  “Thank you.”

  She nodded as if I’d passed a test known only to her. “Just came from the shelter.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “Commoners come in the front. Servants of the Circle go in the back and get first pick.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would anyone from New Atlanta need to get rations from a homeless shelter?”

  Wanda rolled her eyes. “You’re a lamb fresh from the farm. Our betters eat well. We’re staff. Our dinners are subsidized.”

  “Subsidized by a homeless shelter.”

  “You woke up homeless and tonight I’m cookin’ for you. Be grateful.”

  “I just didn’t think anyone on the other side of that wall would be one step up from homeless.”

  “Life’s simple back on that farm, huh, little lamb? There’s all kinds of steps up and down. At the bottom are refugees, then comes homeless and that’s just the beginning. Being a person of means is the main thing. After that? A lot depends on how white you are. By the looks of you, you shouldn’t put on airs or get any fancy ideas. You won’t find any other girls named Kismet among the blessed but, if you play your cards right, you can find shelter in the shadows.”

  “Sounds cold, out of the sun. Where are you on the ladder, Wanda?”

  “I got my polenta goin’ for me and I’ve been with the Rossi family since Mr. Rossi was a boy.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Do? About what?”

  “They’re Select, so where’s their money come from?”

  Wanda seemed to consider her words carefully. “The Rossi family is a dynasty. Mr. Rossi’s great-grandfather was big in the cotton business, his grandfather was big in the lumber business. Mr. Rossi’s father, the man who hired me when I wasn’t much older than you are now, was a hedge fund manager. Your employer’s name is Kirk Rossi but it will always be Mr. Rossi to you. He spends most of his days managing the family fortune. So you know, that’s more than you need to know. Our jobs are to facilitate the small things so the family can attend to the big things.”

  “He manages money and she’s head of security behind the wall?”

  “Mrs. Rossi started out as an AWE agent and caught his eye. You may have noticed she’s quite the looker.”

  “AWE? What’s that?”

  “You don’t know anything, do you?”

  “Maybe not but I pick up things quick.”

  “Was that sass? I don’t need your sass.”

  “I’m just trying to live and learn, Wanda.”

  She stopped the truck and eyed me for a few seconds. “Mrs. Rossi said you were an educated fool. Eileen could use that but I don’t want her to learn any sass back, you understand? Eye is a pure spirit and we don’t want to mess that up. She’ll rule the world someday.”

  “Mrs. Rossi told me I’m to take care of Eye. I’m not great at math but I’ve been told I have a large vocabulary.”

  “Uh-huh. ‘Pride goeth before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall,’ Kismet. Proverbs 16:18. I’m not much for recitin’, but to stay in Mrs. Rossi’s good graces, get ready to hear some Bible quotes. Be a good listener. Your best bet is always silence. That’s what Mrs. Rossi most enjoys from servants.” Wanda put the truck in gear and we were in motion again.

  “You remind me of my grandmother, Wanda.”

  “Yeah? That’s nice, I guess.”

  I loved my grandmother but Grammy had her foul moods, especially when her arthritis flar
ed up.

  “About your first responsibility, the child likes to be called Eye,” Wanda told me. “That’s just for now. She’s only twelve.”

  “Really? She’s small for twelve. I thought she was younger.”

  “She was born premature. Eileen entered this world early but New Atlanta has the best hospital in this hemisphere. So many nights I stayed up, rocking that baby to sleep. The pregnancy was difficult. There will be no more heirs for Mr. and Mrs. Rossi. That makes little Eileen a very fortunate girl. She will be American royalty. When she’s sixteen, you’ll be calling her Miss Rossi, as will I. That’s if you last that long.” Wanda gave me a hard look. “The girl you’re replacing didn’t last more than a few months.”

  “Oh?”

  “You’ve met her.”

  “Have I?”

  “Tanya Dunford,” Wanda explained. “Don’t say that name in the house or Mrs. Rossi will toss a fit and have another of her headaches.”

  “I don’t know any Tanya Dunford.”

  “The girl at the wheel of the red Tesla this morning. Mrs. Rossi wanted her head on a spike. When those prisoners attacked the car, I hear she was useless. Didn’t get Eye out of danger, just sat at the wheel and screamed.”

  “I don’t remember her screaming,” I said.

  “Tanya wasn’t a bad girl but she was about as useful in that situation as an umbrella at the bottom of a lake. Mr. and Mrs. Rossi are livid about the car. Do you know how hard it is to get hold of parts in this day and age? Fixing that machine is going to cost a fortune.”

  I gave Wanda a few minutes of silence before I dared to ask another question. “So … in the interest of being educated instead of just an educated fool, what is AWE? In case Eye asks me questions, so I know what not to say?”

  Posing the question that way appealed to Wanda. “A division of Inner Circle Security. CSS jurisdiction ends at the wall. AWE stands for Always Watching Everywhere. It’s the surveillance arm of the company.”

  “Company? So … mercenaries?”

  “That’s impolite. Think of it as the Select Few’s private army. Mrs. Rossi was a pilot in the Air Force before she joined AWE. She started out here as a parrot.”