by Trevor Zaple
What was rarely discussed by the people huddling within the crumbling old buildings of Stratford was how easy the invasion of the Republic had been. Within the course of three months the armies had been driven back to the capital. When the caravan of Karl’s servants had arrived at the built-up walls of Stratford, such a thought would never have even occurred to Richard. The soldiers of the Republic had been lined up along the those walls, each of them carrying a rifle and standing ramrod straight. The effect was very comforting; with such a display, it seemed to Richard as though it were an army that could never fall.
The walls had been built years before, during the period just after the retreat from Niagara. The Republic had been intent on shoring up their defences in case a day would come that they would need such things. That day had arrived, and on that first day Richard offered a silent thanks to those forward-thinking planners for investing in them. They seemed eternal, and when they took the caravan through the main gates he felt infinitely better. The closing of that gate behind them seemed immensely right, and despite the fear that their flight had generated he thought that the worse was likely behind him. This was further reinforced by the second set of barricades that they passed through, which were comprised mainly of the buildings that stood tall on every side of the square that held the old city hall at its center.
Karl went to stay in the old city hall, a castle-like building that had been converted into an emergency shelter for the well-to-do that had been forced to flee from their houses and farms. His servants were given large tents and told to set up in the tent city that had already sprung up around the hotel. The tent city was by that time already too large for Richard to believe. The walls formed a tight circle around the inner core of the town and the amount of free space was limited, but even still Richard thought at first glance that there might be more people in the tent city than he had believed existed. He would later learn that seven thousand people had taken shelter in Stratford during the siege, and even after the fact the number would continue to stun him.
He directed the servants to an open patch of land outside of a cavern-like old storefront that looked to have been some kind of art gallery once upon a time. Richard set his up in the center and directed the others to fan out in a circle around him. The inner circle of tents around his were Sandra’s, Tyler’s, Marcus’, and John’s. None of them complained about this; in a time of uncertainty, it was far better to be around people one knew. Once Richard finished erecting his tent he crawled inside and zipped the door closed. There would be time enough for ensuring that everyone was well-off later; right now, he needed rest more than anything else he could name.
Instead of resting, however, he brought out the tablet. It was inevitable, he realized; in idle moments his mind wandered to it, so when his idle moments became a physical reality he was not surprised that his fingers spidered through the bag to find it. He turned it on and went browsing through the contents once again. He avoided the pictures this time, not wanting to provoke another intense physical reaction, and instead let his fingers wander through a series of instant messages that had been stored on it. He read through them with a half-bemused expression on his face; after so many years, the white-hot slang of that pre-plague era seemed like an isolated dialect of a language he knew in only a passing way. Had people really told each other to “shut up” when they were surprised? It seemed to him like a strange thing to do, yet the evidence was before him, glowing from the LCD screen. He remembered what “lol” stood for, but what the hell was “lel”? He shook his head and decided not to concentrate on the slang, but found in the end that the messages were, in and of themselves, rather boring. They were a collection of conversations with friends, nothing more. He perked up a little when he began reading messages that had to do with her job; he had been her manager, after all, and any link to their past together was of interest to him. He found, however, that even then there was little of interest in them. He caught a reference to himself, but it was merely in regards to his disciplining one of their fellow co-workers. He turned off the tablet, unsure of what he was feeling at that particular moment. He decided to replace the tablet in his bag and check on how the others were coming along with getting themselves set up.
Sandra had already gotten her tent completely erected and was outside of it, putting something together with Tyler’s help. When Richard got closer he realized that it was a makeshift barbeque, concocted out of ancient-looking pieces of metal that must have been pulled out of the nearby stores. Sandra grinned as he approached, and gestured proudly.
“Well, what do you think?” she exclaimed proudly. “We’re going to have ourselves a righteous feast tonight, you’ll remember it for years”.
Richard found himself grinning in response. “Sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard,” he replied, “what do we have to burn”.
Tyler gestured vaguely into the city of tents next to them. “A guy came by while you were getting set up to say that he had charcoal for sale if we wanted some. He said he would take beer in trade, so we’re going to give him one of the kegs that we brought along in exchange for ten bags. We’ll be cooking well for months!”
Richard frowned but it was only temporary. He felt a surge of annoyance, since he was normally the one to authorize trades of that nature. It would definitely have been one that he would have said yes to, however, so his annoyance did not last long. He replaced the frown with a grin and made a show of licking his lips.
“Excellent stuff, what are we cooking today?” he asked jovially. Sandra smiled and clapped her hands together.
“Well, I have some of the salted beef we can grill,” she replied, “and I noticed a small market through the tents that might have some other things we can make to go along with it”. She looked towards the carriage and shook her head. “We’ve brought a lot of good preserved food, but I think we should eat something fresher than that. A lot of the servants are still very frightened, and having a nice, fresh meal might help them to feel more at home while we’re here”.
Richard nodded. It was a very good idea. Keeping the morale of the other servants up was a high priority; he felt confident in that line of shining soldiers at the outer wall, but it would come down to a siege regardless. There would be misery enough to go around before too long, he knew, and if he could keep spirits up at the outset he would.
“I’ll go check it out,” he volunteered. “When I get back it should be time to start cooking everything. Has Karl been out to see us yet?”
Sandra shook her head and Richard shrugged. He would have to come out eventually, and it wasn’t a pressing concern at the moment. He headed off into the sea of tents to find the market that Sandra had seen from a distance.
The other tents seemed to be occupied by servants as well, and the free workers that circulated amongst the farms at harvest time to ensure that all of the crops were picked efficiently. Everyone that he saw wore the same sort of rough clothing that he wore, and bore faces that he imagined were just like his: an undercurrent of fear and uncertainty with a mask of stern acceptance slapped on overtop. They bustled around their tents, talking amongst themselves, and paid Richard very little heed as he made his way through them. He spotted the little market within a few moments, centered around a strip of concrete and twisted metal poles. There were five or six people whom had brought their wagons into a rough semi circle and were hawking their wares from the backs of them. Most were selling food, although one of them seemed to have clothing in large supply; it was being sold for cheap, which made Richard automatically dubious of the quality. He decided not to investigate it, and turned his attention to one of the wagons that was selling off an inventory of fresh green vegetables. He picked through them while the merchant chattered about how good and fresh they were; to Richard’s discerning eye, they were not anywhere near as “right-from-the-ground” as the merchant claimed them to be, but he had little recourse in any event. He chose the freshest-looking of the bunch and inquired about payme
nt. The merchant seemed willing to accept the currency of the Republic, so they haggled for a while and settled on a price that Richard felt was a bit high. He paid it out without any real complaint, however; he had expected that everything would be much more expensive here than it would be under normal circumstances. He bundled the bunch of vegetables under his arm and turned to make his way back through the crowd of tents and people.
He was pushing his way through the throng of humanity when he saw her. It was just a brief glance, from quite a distance and through the gaps in other people, so at first he wasn’t sure that his mind hadn’t simply decided to play tricks on him. After standing in stunned awe for a moment he began to push his way through the crowd, but away from his campsite. He peered ahead intently, resorting to shoving people away when he couldn’t move through them fast enough. There were a number of angry exclamations around him but he ignored them, pushing onward instead of getting caught up in meaningless confrontations. After a few minutes of finding nothing he grew discouraged and nearly gave up. Then, as he pushed through a crowd of people at the edge of the old city hall he saw her again, leaning against the wall and smoking a loosely rolled cigarette. Her hair was even blonder than he remembered, bleached as it must have been by long years in the sun, and longer, growing out below her ears now. Her face was dark and beset with wrinkles around her eyes and through the cheeks of her wide face. She was more heavyset than she had been, but he reckoned that over the course of twenty-five years such things were bound to occur; in any event, the extra weight accentuated her curves in a more powerful way, and he found himself attracted to her just as much as he had been all of those years ago. He felt his heart stop and his feet moved him forward of their own accord. He had his hand out to steady himself and in a sober moment he realized that he must look ridiculous, like a lurching, starving beast. He found that he didn’t care, however.
“Carolyn,” he breathed, and when she looked up and saw him the surprise and slowly growing delight on her face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his entire life.
SEVEN
They stared at each other for a virtual eternity, their eyes doing all the talking in the initial phase of their conversation. Around them, the new inhabitants of old Stratford jostled and milled, chattering in a wall of noise that seemed to surround them as safely as the two layers of physical walls that did the same. Then Richard stepped forward and embraced Carolyn with a strength and verve of which he had no longer considered himself capable. She returned with a stunned stiffness that melted into the same sort of gripping affection. They held each other for just as long as they had stared at each other, and then Richard broke away. He raised his hands to Carolyn’s face and took her gently by the cheeks. He stared into her face, drinking it in as a man trapped in catacombs may drink in the light upon his finding the exit.
“Where have you been?” he whispered, and an obscure pain flashed through her eyes. He leaned in and kissed her deeply, trying to draw that pain out of her through the lips. They pulled themselves forcefully apart and Carolyn’s hand darted and grabbed the hair on the back of Richard’s head. She was breathing heavily, and by her expression she was either about to kiss him again or burst into tears; either outcome would have been believable from what he saw in her eyes.
“Where have you been?” she whispered back, a smile ghosting across her swelling lips. He cracked a smile back; his mouth felt stretched, leathery.
“Somewhere I shouldn’t have been,” he said. “I’m back where I belong now”. Her smile increased until it seemed to threaten to swallow her entire face. Her eyes shone, and then a cloud passed across them.
“I can’t stay,” she whispered, anguished. Richard’s heart underwent a spasm, but he knew the reasons. Neither of them could lay claim on the other; neither of them belonged to themselves. He caressed her cheek and she leaned into his hand, drawing strength from the warmth of it.
“Where can we meet?” he asked, suddenly frightened. She stretched upward and kissed him soundly on the mouth.
“Meet me here, noon, any day you can. Every day. I will be here. My master has wheedled me a room next to his, claiming urgent need”.
“You haven’t changed,” he said, laughing. Carolyn gave him a quick smile and darted her eyes urgently towards the right.
“I have to go,” she said. Richard leaned in and kissed her one more time before letting her go. He watched her disappear through the crowd, feeling his heart swell and break in the same instance. Once she was gone, he made his way back to his camp, clutching the vegetables that he had mostly forgotten about.
True to her word, Carolyn waited for him every day at the corner of the old city hall. For the first week she could not meet with him for long; they would have enough time to hold each other, kiss furiously like they were adolescents, and stare longingly into each other’s eyes. Then Carolyn would have to leave, and Richard would be bereaved of her all over again. The stress of constant heartache made him somewhat short with the other servants, and more withdrawn. He ceded some of his decision-making authority onto Sandra and Tyler, trusting them as much as he could with keeping the servants sane and fed. He stayed away, half-afraid that he would snap on them at an inopportune moment.
During the second week, about eight or nine days after they had first arrived, Carolyn asked him to come into the old city hall with her.
“I spoke with several of them, including your master – Karl, is it? – and they agreed that you could be granted clearance to enter”.
Richard snorted. “How did you get them to agree to that, exactly?” Carolyn shook her head.
“I said that we needed more assistance among the House Servants. There are three House Speakers in there but none of them have full serving staffs. I told them you had experience, and competence, and that we could use all the hands we could get. Your master seemed quite adamant that you could be trusted in most matters”. She smiled winningly. “You seem to be well-liked”. Richard laughed and shuffled his feet.
“I do alright,” he quipped, and leaned in to kiss her. “What about the others? I won’t be able to live there the entire time. The others depend on me”.
“Do they?”
Richard was about to respond quickly and then stopped. He thought it over for a moment, teasing it over in his mind. He supposed that, in the end, they didn’t. Between Sandra and Tyler, the serving staff could be taken care of while the siege raged around them. He licked his lips and nodded slowly.
“I suppose not,” he said, still not convinced about it. “I suppose I should check in with Karl, after all. Plus, it’s not as though there is much variety in the day-to-day happenings out here. It’s pretty much a matter of eating and sleeping, and finding something to occupy the time in the intervals”. He nodded more decisively. “I’ll tell them, gather my belongings, and meet you here tomorrow”. The rapidly exploding smile and the feverish nature of her resulting kiss made the final decision for him.
Sandra and Tyler accepted his secession of authority with equanimity, reasoning as he had that between the two of them they would be able to handle anything that came up. They reported that the other servants seemed a bit dazed, but were otherwise well-fed and in good spirits. They discussed the goings-on outside of the city but no one had any real, concrete news to offer. A series of large-sounding thuds had been heard from what could have miles away earlier that day, but there had been no forthcoming explanation as to what those had been. There had been no real news at all, except that there were battles going on near the walls.
Tyler retired early, eating with the others but eschewing the late-night talks that they had. The older servants only wanted to talk about the world before the plague came, and the younger ones only wanted to listen to their stories. The idea that there were a number of those servants that had never known the glitzy world of chaos and technology that he had grown up in was a depressing one, and avoiding it was typically a high priority for him. He sat in his tent and browsed
the tablet instead. He stayed away from the folder of pictures entirely; now that Carolyn had found her way back into his life, the thought of looking back to another woman he had loved in a different world seemed to be a vaguely terrible way to spend his time. He was still fascinated by the other artefacts in the tablet, though; he had found a number of essays that Samantha had written for her university classes – her major seemed to be sociology – and he ran his eyes with wonder over the now-dead language that had comprised academia. Each syllable seemed like a ridge or bump in a particularly well-loved wall, and he savoured each one. In a generation this will all be a cipher he thought, a secret cipher whose key will be scattered amongst scraps here and there. If at all.
It was a gloomy thought, like contemplating the meaning of the ages of the younger servants, and he put it away as best he could. He shut it off quickly, noting as he did so that the remaining battery life was just under half. Without any way of charging it, he would have, at best, two weeks of usage left in it. That was if he rationed its usage in the way he had been. This thought chased him around the labyrinth of his darkening mind as he sought sleep with no small difficulty.
