by Ben Woollard
“I speak now to you with honest words, and declare to all the people of Columbia, and to those within our jurisdiction, that we have long felt the direction that this country is moving to be one of vastly more harm than good. For many years the members of the cabinet have struggled against General Director Shilk, only to be silenced and stripped of all our power in an incremental fashion. In the light of recent events, however, we have convened, and decided universally that we will not pursue the policies of our now unfit Director. Instead, we wish to see a state built upon values of voluntary cooperation, openness, and power distributed through a just Government. Those are the values that the UCG was originally founded upon, and those are the values which we hope to perpetuate now that we have gained control.”
“Many of us have heard the rumors, or seen ourselves the truth of friends and family disappearing in the night. We in the cabinet have suffered too, and so our first measure of business shall be to end the involuntary bondage of those people working in the mines and factories. We feel that we must build a state worth having, and that that means a state that helps and respects every individual and not merely the leader. We hope that the citizens of Columbia will join us in this mission to make a better future. Thank you.”
As the speech closed we all looked at one another, unsure if we could believe what Davis had said. For such a radical shift to happen merely by Shilk’s deposition was amazing to me, and I began to wonder how close the UCG was to falling apart under internal conflict whether or not we had cut the presence of The Device from its operations. We sat there for a while, everybody lost in their own thoughts, until Sam got up and went into one of the side rooms, coming out with bundles of clothes.
“Here,” he said, gesturing to those among us who still wore the UCG guard outfits. “If you want to change. I think we’d be safe now to go walk around and see what’s happening.” Clothes were changed, and we split among ourselves some of the stale bread that was found in one of the cupboards. “Franz,” Sam asked me, “do you know where they keep prisoners?” I said I did, remembering that Sam’s family had been captured by the UCG a week earlier.
“I’ll take you there,” I said, and we left the small apartment to step out into the street, checking to make sure there was no one around, still paranoid as we all felt. The sun had shown itself, and the snow that was piled on the side of the streets and crusted on the rooftops glistened in shifting patterns as we passed it by. Walking through the streets, we saw people wandering, looking around as if scales had fallen from their eyes. Everyone was smiling, shaking hands in cafés and leaving work to walk through the parks with their families. We saw UCG troops standing around, confused as to what to do, some looking angry, some relieved. Everywhere there was a breaking of tension that had long been building up within the city, and everyone seemed to be rejoicing in the aftermath of what was, when I thought about it, exactly what we had always been told to fear: collapse.
***
After exploring the streets for a while, and buying enough food to last a few days, the others decided to begin heading back towards Linhof. We all stood in an open plaza and shook hands.
“It seems like everything’s a dream,” Sheldon said as we were all saying our goodbyes. “Just like that, and the whole order crumbles down. Really makes you wonder doesn’t it?”
“It’s more than that, though,” Sam said. “Something new’s starting to rise up. All we can do now is hope that whatever that is is better than the thing that it’s replacing. We’ve all got a part to play in that.”
“Yeah, I guess we do. Shit, real work starts now then, huh.” With that Sheldon and his crew of settlers left to return to their ‘steads and families anxiously waiting in their self-made houses, snow piling up on the roofs where brick and stone chimneys poured out slender streams of smoke that rose, fading, upwards.
We watched them as they left, then headed towards the refurbished building on the southern edges that served as the local prison, and which in the past months had swollen with people brought in on charges of curfew violation, most of whom had likely been sentenced to involuntary work. Guards were still standing outside, but it was clear enough that discipline among their ranks had more or less disintegrated. Even though the guard on duty still stood in his position, he had a carefree look about him, and leaned up against the pole behind him. We walked up to the main gate in the fence that surrounded the place and I asked the guard if there were any plans for people to be released.
“Uhh, I don’t know,” he said. “Hey Jon!” he called to a guard sitting lazily on a chair on the other side of the fence. “Has there been any word on prisoner releases?” The other man shook his head.
“Not that I know of. Go check Central, they might be able to tell you more.”
“Please,” Sam said to the guard. “Can’t you at least let us in to see the people here?”
“Look, until I get specific orders to change what I’ve been doing, I’m gonna keep doing exactly what I have been doing, and that means keeping people in, and out.” We gave up and headed for Central. Everything felt quiet; many people were just standing in the street, completely still, looking around like they were searching for something, or just really seeing the city for the first time. I was nervous about going to Central, and I knew that many people there would recognize me. I didn’t know how many of them had been told I was a traitor, and I hoped that only the now-deposed Sanglorians had the information, or else that recent events would cause people not to act on it.
When we got to Central the lobby was in chaos. It looked like a lot of people had come to voice concerns about family members, and we walked into the din of a mob crowded into the small space. I noticed that none of the guards were Sanglorians, and I wondered how the breakdown that Davis spoke of on the announcements. We managed to push our way to the front desk. The woman there recognized me, she greeted us without saying anything about my abandoning the Sanglorians. I felt safe in asking her about the prison. She told me that no final decisions had been made in regards to either the work camps, or the people currently incarcerated.
“But what about Davis’ speech earlier?”
“That was a list of intentions, but of course their actual implementation will take some time.”
“Could we speak to Davis, me and my friend here. I think he’ll want to hear what we have to say.”
“That’s not possible, the cabinet is in heavy meetings and is likely to remain in them for quite some time.”
“We know what happened to Shilk,” I told her. She looked at me speculatively for a moment, but seeing that I was serious, folded the book that was on her desk and stood up.
“Hold on,” she said, and walked into the back rooms. She came back after a couple of minutes.
“I’ve told the cabinet what you said and who you are, and Davis has agreed to speak with you briefly. Follow me, please.” She led us through the doorway. Walking to the far back of the building we could still hear the clamoring of voices in the entrance. We were led into a small side room and told to wait. Looking about I still saw no Sanglorians. I thought about Remus, and wondered what kind of fate he had suffered as a result of the actions I had chosen.
After we had been waiting for some time, the door opened and in walked a man I recognized as Davis, although I had only seen him a handful of times, usually as he passed in or out of the doorway that led to Shilk’s central office. He looked tired and confused, bags shading the underside of his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days.
“I’m told that you are one of Shilk’s Sanglorians,” he said, without reaching out to shake either of our hands.
“I was, sir. Not anymore.” He looked at me suspiciously, but gestured for us both to sit at the conference table that dominated the center of the room.
“So,” Davis said, “I don’t have much time, tell me what you know.” I looked at Sam, who gestured at me that I should tell it. I explained, as briefly as I could, Shilk’s use of The Device, everythin
g that had happened since my fleeing the city, finding Sam after being run off from the northern mines, and all that had happened since. I also explained to him the situation we now faced in regard to Sam’s family, and how they had been unjustly arrested, or at least that’s what we assumed had happened to them. When I was finished we sat there tensely for a few moments before Davis spoke.
“What you’ve told me is disturbing, and I won’t say that it’s all together believable, but in light of recent circumstances I feel I have no choice but to at least take it into account; it certainly explains everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. As for your family, Sam, I can send someone with you to have them released. We’ve been planning on letting most those poor bastards in the prison out anyway, it’s just a logistical nightmare as many of them are there for authentic reasons and we can’t simply release everyone, you understand.”
“And the mines, sir?” I asked.
“The people will be released there, too, we’ve already started drafting the plans. Everything is in chaos, you know. Now that the cabinet has some control we’ve taken to quite a bit more infighting than I’m proud to admit. Now, unless there’s something else...”
“Actually,” I said. “I was hoping I might be able to speak to you about my position in the UCG from now on. There’s someone I need to find first, who was sent to the mines, but I’d afterwards I’d still like to be a part of the UCG, if there’s a place for me.”
“Let me think about it. A lot has happened in a very short period of time, and to be honest I’m not sure what the future of the UCG is going to be at all right now. I tell you what, though, since you do seem to have played a role in all this, and because I believe that what has happened to Shilk is ultimately for the best, it’s the least I can do to allow you to help in rebuilding what’s left of the UCG. Come talk to me tomorrow.”
“Thank you sir.” We all stood up and shook hands, and Davis found a guard and gave him instructions to escort us to the prison.
Chapter 15
Me and Franz stood outside the gate that led into the old building which held so many captive, and I waited for Momma and Grandpa to come walking out the doors. I was shaking a little; I knew I was responsible for their being in there in the first place. When the doors opened and I saw Momma I yelled and waved at her. She looked tired beyond belief, and her clothes were torn and dirty. She squinted in the light and put her hand up to shield her from the sun. The guard led her through the passage to the entrance and opened the gate to let her through.
I rushed to hug her, and could see tears beginning to well in her eyes even as they welled in mine. Still, she didn’t say anything. “Where’s Grandpa?” I asked. She didn’t say anything, but I could see that something wasn’t right. “Momma,” I said again. “Where’s Grandpa?” She shook her head.
“He’s gone,” she said, shaking her head. “It was too much for him. He just didn’t wake up.” The news hit me and fresh pain poured forth within me, adding to everything that had already happened. I should’ve known, I thought. He was already frail as it was. How could someone his age survive in there? Still, the wounds inside me that had only started to become scabs were torn anew. I stared up into the pale sky and it was all I could do to sob, to try and feel the stillness in me, to try and remember the shreds of peace I’d once grasped. I stood there frozen before my crying mother, and shook to try and tell her not only her father, but also that her son was dead. I couldn’t do it; I didn’t have the strength.
“Come on,” I said, “I’ll take you home.” Tears were falling freely from my eyes, and I took Momma’s arm as we turned to leave. “Come by later,” I said to Franz, who nodded and wondered off without saying anything.
As we stepped through the dusty streets Momma asked where Shiloh was. Still I couldn’t tell her. It was strange, I thought, that even though I believed that Shiloh was there, with that flowing light, the still sea that churned to make the stars, a place that I could still feel as if it were a shining through a window in my chest, I couldn’t stop the grief of knowing I would never see my brother in the flesh again. He was gone, probably burned by troops who didn’t even know his name. I grieved for the life he might’ve lived, for the children he might’ve had, for the people who might’ve met him, and I grieved for me and Momma, who’d lost him, and had now lost Grandpa, too. Was it all my fault? I wondered, as I wonder still. Could things have gone a different way? I knew it was a pointless thing to speculate upon, but nothing could stop such thoughts, and the terror of it is I know it could’ve, if I’d only known it back when it could’ve made a difference.
“Sam, where’s Shiloh?” she asked again, stopping and looking straight at me. I couldn’t meet her gaze. “Sam, tell me. Please. I have to know.” My eyes stayed down and streaming tears, and my throat closed in on itself, cramping as I tried to croak forth the words.
“I’m sorry, Momma. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I said. She only looked at me, and I saw her try to keep a sober face, but contortions wracked her features nonetheless.
“When?” She asked. “How?”
“That same night,” I choked. “We almost made it. I thought we’d made it, but...”
“Those gunshots,” she said, and I nodded even though I knew it wasn’t a question. She had put it all together, had probably spent every night with knots in her stomach for worry of those distant sounds she’d heard after our fleeing, and now looked weak and her skin, which was already pale from sunless days within a cell, grew deathly white, and she would’ve collapsed if I hadn’t held her up.
“I’m sorry Momma. I’m sorry. It’s my fault, I never should’ve come back so soon. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” We stood there holding each other in the middle of the street as passers by arced around our pathetic forms that reeked of destitution. Our lives were broken from what they used to be.
“Don’t say that, Sam, it’s not your fault. If anything I’m to blame for letting him scavenge like that; I knew the Gov would take notice eventually.”
“You couldn’t have stopped him, Momma, we both know that.” We walked the rest of the way back to the apartment with staggered steps, the city just a blur around us. When we arrived I built a fire in the stove and put the kettle on for tea. I stood watching the water bubble and begin to rise in steam. The scene sent me drifting into a haze of déjà vu. I toasted some of the bread I’d bought, and poured the tea and put the meal on the table in front of Momma, who sat hunched and staring at the corner of the room, her eyes swollen and unfocused.
“I don’t have an appetite,” she said.
“You gotta eat, Momma. You look starved. What’d they feed you in there?”
“Barely anything. I think my stomach must’ve shrunk.”
“Please, just eat it.” She did, but could only finish one of the pieces, so I sat down and ate the other one, both of us staring at something somewhere else, far away, past the walls surrounding us, past the city and its dirt, past the earth itself and deeper on. After a while Momma got up and went into the other room where she lay down and fell asleep. I stayed up, though I was beyond exhaustion, and drank endless cups of tea. I sat as the last light of the day receded from the curtains, trailing behind the twirling of the earth. I looked around the small home that had once felt so warm and lively to me, but now only reminded me of the world I’d lost. How could this be made from that? I thought, thinking of the light I’d seen and been. What reason can there be to stay down here, where everything is turned to ash and dust the second that we start to care for it? It seemed I’d come full circle: from my home and out into the wild and back again, only now with pieces of me missing, and in those spaces something larger shining through.
I realized that was it, the answer to my question. What else can stand in the face of such momentous pain and loss? Only that. We move in it, we’re made of it, we breath it in and out, and everyone that lives moves closer to it if they’ve learned to live a way that brings them upwards. That was what th
e new cycle was all about: an upward swing. The old world hadn’t died out, it had kept going past the collapse, and what we were seeing now was just its final end. A new world was gonna start, and where it went was up to us and all the guiding forces.
***
Franz came by while I was still sitting there thinking about it all. I smiled when he came in and poured him some tea.
“I’m sorry about your Grandpa, Sam. I wish I could have done something.”
“I’m sorry, too. There’s nothing you could have done. Besides, it’s too late. It’s just the way things go.”
We sat quiet for a long time, then both got up and went to sleep. I gave him my old bed, and slept on the frayed and sagging couch; I couldn’t bear to sleep in that room, waking up and seeing Shiloh’s empty bed. In the morning Franz went off to see Davis again and came back beaming.
“They’re going to send me up north with the emissaries to set the workers free,” he said. “One of the cabinet said he needed a new assistant, and I think I’ve got the job when I get back.” I congratulated him and shook his hand.
“You know you never told me who it was you were hoping to find there,” I said.
“I didn’t? Her name’s Lucie. I wish that you could meet her Sam! I think you two would get along. What’re your plan now?”
“We still gotta talk about it, but I’m hoping to go back to Linhof in the next few days. There’s nothing here for me or her,” I said, referring to Momma.
“I hope you’ll come back from time to time and visit.” I agreed that I would. Just then Momma, who’d been sleeping solid for nearly fourteen hours, came out. I introduced her to Franz, who got up and bowed in military fashion. Momma smiled and I was happy to see the expression on her face.
We spent the next few days recovering, and Momma agreed to come to Linhof once her strength was mostly back. Franz left to the north, and we promised we’d come and see each other in our respective places.
