by Jessica Dall
“If you don’t care about anything else, you should care that the government has lied and schemed, not to make things better for us, but to remain in power. It was never about men. It was never about us...if I die because I’ve said all this, I consider that a good death. I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed this to continue. I hope you can’t either.”
“Letters about the Dumas murder,” Jude called, the pitch of his voice rising in his excitement.
“Oh, and yeah, they apparently came to power by killing someone. It wasn’t a mass movement just a few power hungry women killing someone to take power. Assassination, I think was the old word for it. You’ll be, um, getting those files in a sec.”
She stopped talking and looked at the silent faces. “Um, I’ll be back.” Dahlia walked back inside, trying to stop her hands from shaking.
“Touching.” Jude didn’t look away from the screen.
“I try.” She released a shaky breath. “I never was a good public speaker.”
“You were convincing if nothing else,” Jude said.
“That’s what I was going for.” She leaned back against the wall, her head focusing on the door. Loud banging echoed through the room.
“Get out.” Jude nodded at the passageway. “Patience got out that way. I can handle this.”
“I’m not running away.” Dahlia shook her head. “Not now.”
“Got emails,” he said.
“You’re a brilliant hacker.” She shook her head, her eyes landing on the books. “Are we still broadcasting?”
“Yeah,” Jude said. “Are you going back out there?”
She nodded, grabbing a handful of books and going back onto the balcony. “Hi, me again. Just in case you’re having a hard time with the alternative history thing, Patience has all these books in her office from before year zero. Written about life with men, some written by men...for all you standing around down under the balcony, you can have those too, I guess.”
She tossed what she had down, going back and pulling out armload after armload of books until the crowd looked saturated.
“So...entertain yourselves until we can figure out what’s happening up here.” Dahlia finished awkwardly and walked back inside.
“You’re brilliant,” Jude said.
“I think you’re beating me on the brilliance thing right now,” she said. “No way I could have got the computer working that fast.
“I have a gift.”
“Definitely.” She managed a grin.
Another loud bang came from outside.
“Really, Lia.” Jude looked at her. “Go.”
“I haven’t listened to anyone for orders yet, Jude. What makes you think I will now?”
“You’ll most likely die if you stay,” he said.
“I think we’ve come to that realization.”
Jude sighed. “Well, if anyone asks, I tried.”
“Gallant effort.” She released a breath, trying to calm her nerves a little and stop her heart from beating painfully against her ribs. The door rattled and then flexed as someone hit it, keeping her from breathing for a second.
“Go, really,” Jude said, not stopping his typing.
Dahlia shook her head, unable to speak as the door flexed again.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Lia.” Jude finally rose from the keyboard.
“Goddamn it, Dahlia, open the fucking door,” a distinctly masculine voice yelled.
Dahlia and Jude looked at each other for a long moment as the door rattling again. Then, Jude opened it.
Ben pushed his way in, glancing at Jude a moment. “We’ve got this floor.”
Jude nodded.
“We’re winning?” Dahlia raised her eyebrows
“Amazingly, yeah.” Ben crossed his arms. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping you not get killed,” Dahlia said.
He snorted. “Right. Compelling speech.”
“They got here through politics, didn’t they?” She frowned, still working though it. “Controlling communications had some poetic justice in it, I thought.”
“Did you?”
“Well, thinking now,” Dahlia said. “I came up with it completely on the fly since you left me out in the middle of the goddamn forest.”
“Technically Heather did,” Ben said. “I just didn’t object too strongly.
“They’re scattering.” Heather appeared in the doorway, panting for breath. “They don’t have any leadership and the men are pouring in...and women. Not that they know how to fight, but some of the women outside...they’re mobbing the military. Most aren’t willing to fight anymore.”
Ben looked at Heather and then at Dahlia. “You incited a riot.”
“Not my original intent, I assure you.” She crossed her arms against her chest tightly.
“Honestly, I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.” Heather looked out the door and then back into the room. “You’re perfect. Likable, non-threatening...you’re the modern day Patience.”
“I’m not a politician.” Dahlia shook her head.
“Exactly,” Heather said. “You’re a victim. A poor victim of circumstances only here because of your amazing moral convictions. Pretty, but not so pretty that people are jealous. Just one of the people. They love it.”
“I only went out there because I thought they needed to know. I didn’t mean to make myself a poster child for the cause.”
“Too late,” Ben said. “You’ve mobilized a good number of women out there...and who knows about around the world. We actually stand a chance. We might actually do this.”
“You and Ben are perfect for it,” Jude said.
“Me?” Ben looked at him.
“Poetic justice.” Jude looked at Dahlia. “They started this by making a married woman single. Now we can make a single woman—”
“Make us being together a symbol,” Dahlia said.
“Exactly.”
“We aren’t exactly the most stable people.” She shook her head in denial.
“Take Ben out there with you,” Jude said. “They like you. They’ll like him just because he’s with you.”
“I’ve only been out there twice.”
“Try it,” Heather urged.
“And do what?”
“Get them all to revolt,” Jude said. “It’s the best possible outcome
“You’re asking me to start a war you realize.”
“Overdue for one,” Ben said.
“The more people we have, the quicker this will be over.” Heather sent Ben a look.
“I don’t want to be a politician.” Dahlia shook her head.
“Little late for that,” Heather said. “They’re following you. You’re a politician by default.”
Dahlia frowned. “Fine, but you’re coming with me.”
“What?” Heather frowned.
“The lesbian and the man,” she said. “We’ve got to cover our bases.”
“Might alienate some people.”
“Hopefully they aren’t the fighting kind,” she replied.
Heather nodded. “Just let me check what’s going on down the hall.”
Dahlia nodded at her sister.
Ben grinned at her. “We’re doing it.”
Nodding, Dahlia stared at the balcony. “So about the oleander you had on you...”
Ben sighed. “Is this really the time?”
“As good as any.”
“Let’s stay focused,” Jude shook his head. “You can fight later.”
Ben grinned. “‘Fight’.”
“Don’t try me.” She pointed at him.
He just smiled. “We could do this.”
Epilogue
Ben looked at the tumbler on Dahlia’s desk. “I think we should get married.”
She didn’t look away from the computer. “Is that so.”
“It would be a good gesture.” He set the glass down. “We need to get the rest of the self-imposed segregation gone if this is going
to stick. You know, put the issue to rest.”
“I’m not going through some inane archaic ritual as a gesture.” Dahlia shook her head.
“Heather and Des are married.”
“And I’m sure they’re very happy together.”
“We aren’t?”
“Depends on the day, doesn’t it?” Dahlia pressed something on the pad.
“I suppose.” He smiled. “More often than not though.”
She nodded, at last looking away from the screen. “So, you want us to promise to be monogamous for the rest of our lives.”
“Well, we’re sort of doing that already, aren’t we?”
She nodded, pensive.
“It would sort of be like we’re recreating the way things were back when men and women were equals.”
Dahlia continued nodding, putting the glass next to the pitcher of water on a cart near the desk before returning and sitting back on the edge of the desk next to him.
“You wouldn’t want to marry me?” Ben asked at last.
“I don’t know,” Dahlia said. “Do you have any other reasons for wanting to get married other than the fact that it’s a good political move?”
“A brilliant political move,” he corrected.
“Besides the fact that it’s a brilliant political move, then?” She rolled her eyes.
He stood up, resting his hands on either side of her hips, trapping her against the desk. “How about because I don’t want anyone else thinking that they could steal you away from me.”
“I don’t think they would dream of it after the fight you and Jack had.”
“Plenty of men still have a thing for you.”
“Well, power is sexy.” She shrugged.
“Or the illusion of power.” He smiled.
“I’m not completely a figurehead.”
“True.” He kissed her neck. “Lord knows you order me around enough.”
“And you listen.”
“For whatever reason.”
“Because you’re crazy for me.”
“True.” He smiled against her neck. “At least I am when I’m not wanting to kill you.”
“Even then.” She pushed him back. “Most of the fighting has stopped, hasn’t it? That’s what Heather told me.”
“I haven’t sent out any more men,” Ben said. “There are some hold outs, but for the most part, it’s been a pretty easy takeover.”
“People don’t like dying, I would imagine,” Dahlia said. “But, pray tell, what are we going to do with all the men when they aren’t fighting?”
“Open an adult school or something.” Ben shrugged. “Or simply keep them fighting.”
“Yeah, because that’s what kind of world I want to live in.”
“Want your children to live in?” He smiled.
“What children?” She frowned.
“Well, if I can convince you to marry me, the next step would be convincing you to have a family.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ben.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I might be sterile. I tested out that herb for birth control on myself. No one’s gotten pregnant from that trial at all. Even after they’ve stopped taking it.”
“So we adopt.”
“Shouldn’t you focus on one step at a time?”
“Apparently you’re just going to make an executive decision anyway about it. I don’t know what me arguing about it would change.”
“Well, one of us has to be rational, and since you’ve hardly proved that you’re capable...”
He gave her a look, but didn’t rise to the bait.
“Oh don’t be like that,” she said. “You’re no fun when you’re sulking.”
He still didn’t respond.
“You’re no fun.” She turned to move around him.
He caught her waist, wrapping his arms around her middle. “Do you have time for some fun today?”
“Fun or ‘fun’?” she asked.
He smiled. “Well, I assumed we’d have ‘fun’ tonight, but if you have time right now...”
She shook her head. “Men.”
“What about us?”
She said nothing for a moment. “I was actually about to go down to the clinic. You know, practice medicine for once.”
“You miss working at the hospital?”
“I’m a doctor.” She looked at him. “Healing people is what I do.”
“So be a doctor.” He shrugged. “You have time. Enough people are helping with the government.”
“Yeah, but people who want to be politicians are never who you should really have as leaders it seems.”
“Have lunch with me,” he said.
She sighed and nodded at last. “Just let me change first. I’m thinking of wearing black today.”
“You look good in black,” he said.
“I like to think so,” she said. “Wait here.”
“Sure thing, Doc.” He smiled.
About the Author
Jessica Dall is a writer, editor, and reviewer, with such publishing credits as the novels, Grey Areas and The Bleeding Crowd, and several short stories that have appeared in both anthologies and literary magazines. She currently lives in Washington, DC where she freelances for a number of papers, reviews plays and books, and edits everything from novels to how-to books.
Website:
Website: jessicadall.com
Facebook Fan Site: Facebook.com/jkdall
Twitter: @jessicadall
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