Subjectivity: Chapter Three

The massive building held a tense air to it as the two companions made their way toward the cinema on the lowest level. Now completely inconspicuous, throngs of shoppers merely wedged their way through one another; many seeking to join the rally below and some quietly escaping its wrath. Many men and women had their heads bowed and some had hats pulled low to obscure their faces. Though the magnificent day continued outside with warm, equatorial weather and sunshine casting an opportune day for outings, the mall Stephan and Roe were in now held such a gloomy feeling to it that had seemed to permeate every passersby, for mothers and fathers kept children close as they hurried along, and many others, arms full of pamphlets, spoke loudly and boldly, receiving silence or awkward looks, though many did indeed accept their propaganda laden messages. Roe observed it all with cool detachment. He knew the source of the tension; he had seen it on the first floor looking down. ‘How quickly a relatively benign affair such as an outing to the mall had gone horridly awry’ Roe noted wordlessly.

Both young men made their way down the last escalator to the centre pavilion, endeavouring to avoid the overzealous pamphlet handlers who heckled all those who left the moving staircase with rude abandon. Though luck would not be with them on that day, for a girl looking to in herearly teens stopped them. A mop of messy brown hair topped her head which she shook out of the way and cast an eager jade gaze to Stephan then to Roe, though upon eyeing Roe, she quickly returned his glance to Stephan. As Roe regarded the girl, he was reminded of something Charles Spurgeon had once said: ‘Evil things are easy things: for they are natural to our fallen nature. Right things are rare flowers that need cultivation.’ He had often found the truth in the saying, and now it was confirmed further by the accosting of this mere child who, while extending a pamphlet, offered them a smile that Roe found off-putting. “I hate to bother you two, but would you like to hear about the TPW’s message of humanity and kindness?” The girl spoke quickly and with a touch of nervousness that Roe noted well; he recognised it from the days of NELO when he saw other Subjects being dragged off for examination. Granted, in such situations, Subjects were more catatonic than merely ‘a touch nervous,’ and the memory brought a slight frown to the inscrutable Roe. Catching the slight downturn in his mouth, the child before them blinked and spoke with a quick stutter as Stephan went to speak; “O-oh, you two aren’t sympathisers¸ are you?!” She took a step back, pure terror in her eyes.  

Stephan took a step forward, though Roe raised a hand, and shook his head, before canting his freezing gaze to the girl, feeling foreign anger swell into him before he quelled it quickly. “Most assuredly not, young lady. I was merely…” Roe looked to Stephan for a moment, the act of lying on the spot feeling foreign and awkward, and so he imagined what Stephan might say; “… I was merely thinking to myself what a messy head of hair you have… Come; tell me of the TPW’s message of humanity and kindness.” Roe repeated the girl’s words with calm reserve, and when he looked to Stephan once more, the gregarious young man looking thoroughly confused. However, Roe seemed to placate, or at least delay, Stephan’s concerns with a quirk of a golden brow and he returned his attention to the child before them, his withering gaze seeming to bring the girl great comfort. Though Roe was taken by a peculiar thought; he had been angry at the girl for spouting such lies, but it was not this young lady who had learned of such. She had been indoctrinated, and what Roe found such to be a depressing affair. Roe glanced once more to Stephan, finding the girl before him and him so similar, but on such different paths in life.

Looking to Stephan momentarily, the child cleared her throat, evidently unaccustomed to actually being asked what she was talking about and the merit therein. “Well, the TPW believes that Subjects aren’t exactly people. People are born from a mother’s womb! From love and connection, not from the test tubes and DNARP freak-show at NELO. Those people make nothing but fake people that fill up my school and take jobs from my parents and…” The brunette child trailed off as Stephan took a step forward, a sad smile on his face. Roe looked to Stephan, confused; had he not understood his signal? He wanted to understand the TPW, not fix them. That was the problem of another person, not his, for his duty was to exist, nothing more and nothing less. Stephan led the three of them away from the escalator toward a seating area next to the pavilion that was somewhat quieter, for it was removed from the stage’s cacophony of noise by a glass wall separating the demonstration area and the flows of human traffic. Roe looked around as the three of them made their way from the madness of the centre area and found himself seeing many similar sights to their own; young people, no older than fourteen at the latest to his estimates handing out pamphlets, speaking emphatically about their cause and gesturing to adults, likely their parents, at the stage, listening raptly.

Stephan took a seat and gestured for the girl to do the same. After a moment, the young lady complied and Stephan smiled that broken smile once more; cracking with an unknown pain Roe could not trace. “Tell me, young dear,” Stephan began, his tone light and jovial, “Did you make up that speech back there, or did your parents make you memorise it? Because… I don’t think you really mean it.” The girl began to retaliate, though Stephan raised his pointer finger, “I know, I know. You believe it with all your heart and blah blah blah.  But tell me, little lady; are your schools more crowded as time goes by? Because, to my knowledge, classes are still as overpopulated as ever. I don’t think you believe this stuff.” Stephan noted lightly in a wistful tone with a hopeful smile in his find, bringing more confusion to Roe’s mind, though the latter remained silent as Stephan spoke up again; “I think you’re far too nice to believe that.” And, falling silent, Stephan awaited the girl’s words then.

The young girl, holding the pamphlets tightly, looked incredibly uncomfortable and to Roe’s perceptive gaze, she appeared to be trembling. However, why she was trembling was lost to the Subject who recalled his own past at such an age. Experimented on without repose, Roe was left in incredible pain during and after procedures as they plumbed the depths of his body with minimal or no anesthetic and without a great deal of recovery time, much of his young life was spent clutching his opened surgical wounds on the ground with once pristine white clothing painted in a deep scarlet. He would feel the tears falling from his eyes and could feel the pained look on his face, but for all his agony, he never let one cry tumble from his lips as he writhed silently. Roe was now more than sure that, had he expressed vocal pain, the Keepers would have lessened their experiments, but to do such would be to defy what he had become; to defy the living defiance of their standards that he was. “I…” The child brought Roe out from his thoughts as she looked around worriedly, seemingly scared that someone might hear her as she barely whispered, causing Roe and Stephan to lean in, “I… guess classes aren’t very crowded, but, the jobs… and they’re not people; a machine made them and…” The girl’s argument fell apart at the seams and she seemed quite aware of such as she trembled more visibly before standing and looking to the pavilion, “I need to go!” She said, hurrying toward those gathered there.

However, as the young lady moved, Roe’s eyes widened in shock as he regarded her wrist. “Wait!” He called out, causing the girl to stop dead in his tracks and turn her head, looking to Roe hurrying, for she had heard the urgency that brought Stephan to a stand as well whose eyes were wide in shock at Roe. The Subject took a step toward the child and he could feel her shaking in his hand. “Be calm…” He said as soothingly as possible, his voice sounding oddly paternal to his own ears, “I will not harm you…” He found himself reminded of when he helped Stephan with his nausea, having found that the tone of his voice gave immense credence to what he wished to do. The enigmatic Subject was rather surprised at the newly discovered array of emotional facades he could wear, though part of him yearned to know what the truth of such a situation might bear. He had felt something foreign as he looked on the ill Stephan in the car before, but he had lost all recollection of what it was until this point as he held the girl’s hand in his own.

With agonisingly slow speed, Roe turned over the girl’s hand. Small lines littered her fair palm and she had delicate hands that seemed unaccustomed to the hard day’s work of the common child which consisted mostly of playing. Roe knew what he would find; he had seen it when the girl had fled from their company, though the truth of it saw him feeling things he could not understand. Was it anger? Sadness? He could not say, but it took him by surprise and he simply stood there for a moment. Though upon the soft flesh of her inner wrist was what he had thought he saw; a tattoo, so barely visible that it took a learned eye to know to look for it. A number was written in grey letters that were so light that even Roe’s keen eye had trouble discerning it, though sure enough it read ‘G14 – 18462100.’ The girl was a Subject. Who spoke out against her own and the reality of it seemed to hit the child harder as Roe learned the truth. Stephan rushed forward and saw the imprint as well, sighing sadly before speaking; “Why? You’re one of them, why would you want to hurt your own-“

“Family.” Roe spoke solemnly, the kind face of Mother Natalie coming to mind. Little lines creasing the delicate skin around her brilliant cerulean eyes as bright as the tropical sea and full of hope and laughter, Roe so often found himself lost in them time and time again, so confused as to what it was she felt, and how she felt it. Though his singular word seemed to accomplish all that a bullet could do as it sank into her mind and her face fell. She wrenched her hand from his grip, granted he did not hold her tightly, and ran from them then, toward the gathered group of parents. Roe rose, and looked to Stephan, shaking his head; “I believe I scared her. We should go meet up with Ray and Emiliyia.” Stephan blinked, looking thoroughly confused at Roe’s indifference toward the situation, though the latter clarified his intentions; “If we stay, I will be found out for being a Subject, or that child’s parents will think us potential molesters.” With that, he had begun a brisk pace to the opposite side of the shopping mall, incredibly glad to be free of the monstrous display warping innocents into the true aberrations, the true monsters.

~*~

The sun shone brightly through the plates of glass adorning one entire wall on the one side of the office, illuminating brilliant marble tiles laid carefully on the floor and sealed in place. Outside, palm trees swayed in a light breeze and the ocean rolled in and out just beyond a two story high wall below. A few wispy clouds struggled to maintain existence in the beautiful day and would surely soon burn up in the equatorial heat that had been delivered by the weather currents of Earth. Inside, the repetitive clacking of a computer’s keyboard could be heard; a foreign sound among this era, for so few held to the physical edifice of a keyboard as many had moved to the electronic ones that appeared at the base of screens, panels and the like. The room was all but bare, save for a few blank filing cabinets which sat unobtrusively against the fair wall and a glass desktop supported by a shining metallic triangular structure supporting it, and accompanied by a small stack of drawers. Behind the desk was Natalie Bellerose whose nimble fingers typed speedily along the surface of the keyboard.

She hummed a light tune as she responded to various emails and sent many more. A typical day for her, and although she would prefer to visit her children, these duties had to be completed. Moreover, it was important for them to be without her presence so that they might interact as strangers and further their social development. Raising Subjects was a difficult job and only a few employees were selected to act as ‘Mother’ or ‘Father.’ Natalie was the lead of all parental figures for Subjects, as she had been with the company longer than any other. It was obvious to anyone who visited the NELO Compound that she loved her job and her children dearly and would do anything to keep them safe. However it was upon days such as these that she found herself missing a key few; ones who had been especially close to her, be it for their need of her help or their sociability, it always varied. However, as she scrolled through roughly fifty unread emails, her kind cobalt gaze paused on one. Roe Speremus’ name appeared below the sender’s column and Natalie could feel a frown growing. Roe did not email her unless something unfortunate had occurred. Opening the email, she found one single line of text which she read aloud “G14 – 18462100. Errant Subject who is a part of the TPW. What has caused this?” Natalie reviewed the number once more… The person at hand was not one of hers; she had not yet had more children added to her facilities, as the youngest of Generation Thirteen were still with her in such numbers that adding more would cause her to be too absent in their lives.

Regardless, with a light blue painted fingernail, she dragged her finger from the bottom of the screen, maximizing a program that read ‘New Evolutionary Leap Organisation Subject Lookup’ above the symbol of NELO; a ring of DNA with the words ‘Hope,’ ‘Providence’ and ‘Fortune’ written in fine golden scrawl inside its ringed being. Two blank search engines could be seen, one labelled ‘Generation’ and the other ‘Identification Number.’ Quickly typing in both necessary components, a Subject was indeed found. A picture of a young girl donning typical Subject garb, granted it was adorned with various splatter marks of food and the like. She had messy shoulder length brown hair and bright green eyes that shone with hope. Various text boxes of information could be seen, detailing her date of birth, blood type, and the like. However Natalie ignored all these and scrolled to the bottom, finding the Employee notes, though their commentary only confused her more. “An absolutely lovely girl – friendly and outgoing. Will do well in the real world.” She read aloud, noting it was from one of the handlers that kept the children going to school and the like. Another read “Delightful to be around. Works hard in school. Plays well with others. Will be a welcome addition to the world’s society.”

Natalie raised a blonde brow before seeing what her ‘parent’ had written. Evan Westerburg, ‘Father’ of one of the other facilities, had photocopied in a piece of paper likely torn from a notebook, and Natalie’s keen eyes struggled to make out the nigh illegible scrawl: “Subject 18462100 (Sarah Thomas) is the epitome of what I endeavour to create here at NELO. She is bright, sociable and well-adjusted to social situations requiring personality to overcome. She has repeatedly professed her reluctance to leave NELO as she, and I quote “will miss her friends.” However upon meeting her adoptive family, she has appeared to warm up to the idea. The family has already adopted a son from Doctor Bellerose’s Generation Thirteen, a Subject whose name I cannot recall, but they appear to wish to have a larger family. They are a conservative family who hold to traditional ideals of family and the like. I believe that Sarah will be a fine addition to their home and with her new brother will be able to enlighten her parents to the worthiness of NELO as more than a necessary evil, as the adoptive father had seen me.” Natalie sighed deeply as she finished reading. She knew why this girl had been adopted, and likely the boy as well. It was quite likely that these parents wanted a family, but they likely realised they could break the perceived solidarity of the NELO family, as she saw it, by turning a few against the whole. Worse yet, of all people for her to run into, she had met Roe. One of the most intimidating Subjects she had mothered.

Though hope remained in her heart as she recalled Roe; for though he scared children without even trying, he likely used the methods she had personally taught him to glean her ID number and generation, which told her that he had, at the very least, not assaulted the child for his relentless curiosity. Moreover, there was a chance one of his schoolmates was there and likely kept him from terrifying the girl too much. With any luck, he had sewn mistrust in the propaganda she was no doubt fed and generally been a positive influence. Natalie chuckled lightly at the thought; Roe professed on many occasions while saving Subjects from various ill-thought adventures outside of the wall that he did not do it to help them, but to better understand the human condition. Naturally Evan and the others thought that she had sent an emotionless bloodhound after the errant children, but she knew that Roe would never harm a child in such a situation. He had a kind heart, whether he realised it or not. Closing the email and rising from her seat, she placed two fingers on a nearly invisible console in the glass of the desk before speaking; “Lisa, could you cancel my six o’clock appointment? I have to go into town, thank you.” With a quick reply from the woman on the other end, Natalie procured her lab coat which she slung over her frame. Adorned in a black, knee length pencil skirt and a sky blue blouse, she made her way toward the exit of her office, the clack of her heels echoing off the silent room. She would have to have a talk with Evan about Subjects being put into questionable homes before another innocent child was indoctrinated by The Awakening’s allies.

~*~

The conference room was filled with heated conversation, various men and women with both foreign and familiar accents arguing angrily. At one end of the table, the representatives from Canada and Russia argued over the rights to icebergs that floated in the arctic, both parties demanding that the other concede so that they might mine them for fresh water. Next to them and closer to the head of the table, the representatives of China and Australia both struggled to understand one another, all the while shouting furiously about pollution from China by the latter while the former angrily rebuked the latter’s claims, calling them defaming and insubordinate to the world’s largest economy. William Ehrhardt ran a hand through his white hair and looked around with inner despair. The nations of the Pacific Union were rarely this unamicable and it was all due to his indecisive response to the question of Subjects being recognised as humans or not being raised by a reporter last week. It would appear that, once his leadership was questioned, it gave the opportunity for the allied nations to argue all sorts of other points barely held in check. Doran looked to the Russian and Canadian representatives, feeling his heart sinking for the greying woman from Canada and the black haired man from Russia. Neither country had the ability to argue about such things for both had been crippled badly by the lack of oil able to be drilled anymore. Many jobs and many more citizens had merely moved away, leaving the countries economically destitute. Deciding that the arguing had gone on long enough, President William Ehrhardt  looked to the man seated directly on his right; the representative from the United States of America, Doran Leavan. Upon seeing his gaze, Representative Leavan offered a singular nod before President Ehrhardt slammed a pockmarked hand into the oak table’s surface and stood. Silence quickly followed his action and the thirteen member nations suddenly looked to him warily.

“Enough! This bickering is getting us nowhere! We all love democracy, but this childish fighting will bring us nothing.” President Ehrhardt felt the tension in the room waver as his words fell silent before he continued again; “My friends, you’ve asked me what my stance is on Subjects, and I’ve resisted telling you. Many of you have told the press that this is because I have no opinion on them, but this is not the case.” Once more, silence fell, a few of the representatives leaning in expectantly. The old president knew that his opinion would gain the favor of only five nations, and the others would be vehemently opposed to such. President Ehrhardt looked to Doran Leavan for a moment, though the representative of America was engaged in quiet conversation with the Brazilian representative, though with the clearing of Ehrhardt’s throat, the two turned to him. “We will support the Subjects’ right to life and all human rights therein.” Awe, both through approval and fury, followed his words. They were testing The Awakening and upon a scale never seen before. The Canadian representative nodded approvingly, though her sentiments were vastly outweighed by those of the majority. The Japanese representative’s face was contorted in anger and surprise. However, their gestures were quite abruptly cut off by the cries of outrage and dissent by others while a few stood, arguing against them. Deciding no more would be accomplished, William merely took his leave, and with long steps made his way to the central doors on the side of the room and opened took a deep breath.

Opening them wide, the circus of assistants, advisors and associates were all but blurred in one’s eyesight. However, one specific figure could be seen entirely still next to the receptionist’s desk in the entry room. A man with greying, short black hair and one eye covered with an eye-patch donned a black and gold uniform; a peculiar mockery of the white and gold uniform that was common for the Pacific Union military. “What did you do, William? They’re catatonic in there, you fool. And what about Doran? You told me before he’ll support you, but America has the highest concentration of anti-Subject citizens.” Martin Godfried spoke in his deep authoritarian voice. As Minister of Defense for the Pacific Union, Martin Godfried had provisional authority over the armies of the twelve nations when approved by the Union Senate and was well known for the key role he played in the Second Civil War of America thirty years ago. Such was also where he lost his eye when a bunker buster destroyed the unground complex he was commanding from. The two walked at a hurried pace down the halls of the Offices of the Pacific Union whose pale walls were covered with various paintings of historical figures of importance. William found them to be a solemn reminder of how far the world had come and all the people that had helped make it so.

Though William was in no mood for Martin’s unending criticisms, and even if such was integral to Godfried’s job, the aged president found his voice still somewhat hostile; “I am doing what is best for the nations. We need to address the Subject issue and once we show The Awakening that we’re not afraid of them, the people will show their support of them to. It’s a domino effect.” President Ehrhardt found, though he was trying to convince Martin, he found he was trying to convince himself more than anything. “As for Doran? He’ll never betray me or what I’m trying to do. He believes just as strong as I do that Subjects are people and he won’t allow the Union to be destroyed by one, if important, issue.” Ehrhardt knew it in his heart; Doran would not betray him.

~*~

The sun was not yet to rise for a few hours when Sonya sat upon the cold floor of her room. Garbed in a pair of small, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, she looked more the part of a common beggar than a citizen of Russia. Her rust coloured hair was let loose of its nigh permanent ponytail and the long auburn locks fell to above the small of her back. Grey eyes stared listlessly at the floor before her, her mind moving from thought to thought without repose. Unlike the well to do nations of the Pacific Union, Russia was economically destitute with a fixed unemployment rate akin to that of an economic recession, and so the introduction of high-technology luxury goods into the solitary nation had yet to occur outside of the main cities. Thus her room was largely bare; moisture stained walls coloured grey loomed on all sides and were joined by an equally leaking ceiling which sagged at one side of the room. The carpet, long since overdue for replacement, was matted and felt dirty to her hands, though she ignored it. Seated perpendicular to the foot of her bed, she stared at the opposite bed in the room, where the snoring figure of her younger brother Ivan slept. His dark blond hair was strewn messily over his pillow, and his mouth parted to let forth the obnoxious nocturnal noises.

It was not Ivan’s snoring, however, that saw Sonya sit there upon the dirty floor, and instead memories of times she long wished to ignore. Long ago, Ivan had awoken to find her like such, and asked her what memory haunted her. ‘It wasn’t one memory,’ the Russian woman spoke to herself, ‘It’s all of them.’ The memories of bloody fights with drifters and drug addicts, the terrified fleeing from rapists and other ‘human vermin,’ as she tastefully put it in an attempt to not actively pollute the younger Volkov’s diction, regardless of the foul tongue he already had. That night in the falling chill of Autumn, however, saw her recall the unpleasantries of one of her first hunts alone. Before Ivan was born, their father would take Sonya out hunting with him as a little girl, for she was light and quiet on her feet. The man had taught her all she knew of the activity, and in such situations, she had most oft felt safe in the stoic man’s company. He had never been a particularly emotional man, but he had been reliable once. Following her brother’s birth, he simply ceased to parent her or the boy. Regardless, the memories of that particular hunt played out before her.

It had been a frigid Spring morning; the winter snows had not yet melted completely and the temperature easily dropped into the negative twenties Celsius as the sun struggled to warm the icy land. Her gloved hands felt numb around the handgun-like hunting instrument, however instead of shooting a bullet, it shot a pellet that split into two prongs before impact and delivered a lethal electric charge, killing the animal instantly. Sonya’s failure on that hunt was that she had not dialed up the electric charge sufficiently to kill the elk she stalked. The great beast was in surprising health for its species, for most elk were sickly from diseases caused by polluted run-off and the various diseases that the Barren had imparted upon wildlife. When she fired her weapon at the beast, the prongs struck true, but the charge was not sufficient. The beast had gone down wailing in agony, screaming like a babe dropped from a short distance. The cry of the buck was a horrible, anguishing sound to the then teenager Sonya, and panic set forth in her body as she watched the beast thrash on the ground with violent seizing. Blood oozed from its nose, eyes and ears, and it looked to her with a horrified gaze.

‘I’m sorry!’ Sonya heard her past self shout in her mind, and she shuddered from the desperation of her voice in the memory. Having seen the beast come down and not die and after recovering from the shock, she had ran to its side, bayonet knife in hand, ready to bury the blade in its heart and kill it instantly. As she approached the elk, it grew ever more panicked and thrashed with renewed vigor delivered a convulsing leg into her stomach. The wind was knocked out of her lithe form and she had fallen to the ground, coughing violently as she held her midsection, collapsed on the ground in a macabre mockery of her prey. In the current day, Sonya winced inwardly at the memory, holding a hand over her black shirt above her stomach, silently recalling the deep bruise that had taken a month to heal fully. The pain of the memory would not subsist, the embarrassing shame of causing the beast such a horrific death not leaving her. As she had recovered from the kick, she grabbed the knife and with a bestial scream of her own, in an attempt to both steel her nerves and silence the inconsolable cries of the great best, she buried the knife in the elk’s chest and directly into the heart. The great elk never parted its near mindless stare with her as it died, seemingly determined for her to know her failure, to know what pain she had caused.

On that day she had felt as terrible as her parents: to knowingly cause pain and do so little to stop it. Casting her gaze to her younger brother, she silently recalling the youth telling her that, where their parents had knowingly caused pain and done nothing about it, she had lamented her torture of the buck where they did not regret their actions. ‘Words are cheap, brother,’ Sonya thought to herself, ‘You’re so innocent, in some ways, Ivan…’ She smirked a bitter smirk for a moment. ‘You haven’t had to kill things in your life. You have never had to watch a living being die, knowing that it felt the pain, the panic, the confusion of why it was being killed.’ In truth she abhorred death in all forms, be it human death or beast death, and so she only hunted when necessary, but nevertheless her moral compunctions never left her. ‘I pray I never have to kill anyone,’ she pleaded to any higher powers. Predictably, no response came, and so she merely sat there, and leaned her head against the cold wall behind her, her eyes closed as she slowly breathed in and out. Shifting in her seated position, she propped a leg up and rested her forearm on her knee, before once more opening her eyes and staring at the ceiling. Fatigue gnawed at her ruthlessly, but she stubbornly refused to give in, a masochistic part of her believing the lamenting to be a fruitful endeavour, one that would cleanse her of her misgivings.

It was then that Ivan shifted in his bed noisily, before a pair of near glowing blue eyes stared at her. Resisting the urge to jump in mild fright, she stared back silently, allowing him to speak the first words. “You’ll be exhausted tomorrow if you don’t get some sleep, Sonya,” He spoke wearily, his voice dry from disuse. Tossing the covers off his person, he revealed himself to be adorned in naught but a pair of similar grey sweatpants, and the elder sister assumed she had taken a pair of his by accident, given the similarity of their sizes of clothing. Though the auburn haired woman was almost five years her brother’s senior, the two were almost the exact same height, however she held a few inches over him yet. She did not bother to respond, however, and merely gave a lazy shrug of her shoulders, casting her gaze elsewhere. Pushing himself to a seated position on his bed, Ivan ran a hand through his shaggy locks of hair, and glanced out the window at the far end of the room, above a chest of five drawers. The moon shone dull grey light onto the rolling waves of the North Sea, which slowly sloshed back and forth with a calming repetitive nature. Small, rocky islands no larger than houses poked through the blanket of seawater. Their insignificant beings marked the delineations of shallow water once ideal for fishing, though now served as little more than ill-fated climbing stones for rambunctious teenagers. Following his gaze, Sonya smirked a little.

As a teenager, she and what few friends she had during such a time had done just such a thing, and taken a boat out to one of the more treacherous rocky outcroppings, intent upon mounting it like a mountaineer. They were perpetually wet with seawater, smoothed from the centuries of erosion, and thus they presented an immense challenge. Many of her friends had simply tumbled off and into the waters below, many of which unaware how dangerously close they had come to injury or death, had they hit rock. Sonya herself was no great exception, however prided herself on that day for reaching the farthest up before slipping back and falling back first into the choppy ocean waters. The memory of her friends, though, was an unpleasant one. “They’re all gone, you know?” She canted her gaze to Ivan, who gave her an inquisitive look. “When I was your age, my friends and I climbed the rocky pillars in the bay out there. But Vlad, Lida, Alecks and Tanya are all gone, now.” Her younger brother already knew the story, but for them both, the dead of night was when the ghosts of their pasts came to haunt them, and so they had both developed a mutual respect for allowing the other to retell stories that pained them. “Vlad moved to Moscow when he graduated; his parents used what little money they had to put him into school there, and the government paid for the rest, but he doesn’t visit anymore. Tanya and Alecks got married after school and moved to Murmansk to work in one of the fishery processing plants, and Lida…”

Ivan nodded once, “Lida is no longer with us,” he spoke in an uncharacteristic point of kindness. “She died when she wandered to close to the crack warehouse on the west side of town.” Sonya could feel a pained expression to place on her visage, though she did her utmost to mask it. Lida had died three years ago and was at peace, but even still the brutality and unjust nature of her death had left all her friends quite disturbed. The young auburn haired woman was quite sure that the other three had left Polyarny in an attempt to escape the painful memories the miserable town, like so many others across the world, left on their citizens. Ivan laughed a small, sad laugh, “She was always so scatterbrained. Do you remember when she came to the door to pick you up so you and your friends could go Murmansk City?” Sonya joined him in his laughter, unable to resist the hilarity of the memory. “I was polishing the dresser in the garage and I hear all this shouting. I looked outside and I saw Vladimir scrambling into the front seat followed by the breaks screeching.” The two laughed more loudly, then, and Ivan took it as reason to continue. “Alecks was furious! He came storming out of the car and was yelling at her as she was trying to get you to leave. All the while she didn’t even hear him!” The two’s laughter died down after a moment, and Sonya offered her brother a rare and earnest smile. The younger Volkov slid himself off his bed and walked over to where she sat, offering her his hand. “You’re supposed to be the responsible one, I won’t tell anyone I’m forcing you to go to bed.”

Deciding to ignore the subtle, though predictable jab, from the obtrusive teenager, she placed her hand in his and was dragged to her feet. “That we can’t have, no,” she agreed, “After all, you are entirely irresponsible.” She agreed with a smirk, and paced to her bed before sitting on the edge of her own bed and sliding in, tossing the covers loosely over her person. Resting her head against a thin pillow, she let forth a slow and calming breath, though felt as though she was being watched. Casting her gaze to her brother, she found that the sapphire eyed male had once more fallen asleep, his sightless visage facing her. ‘He looks so peaceful,’ she noted, ‘Let that never change.’ Looking back up, her brows knit in conviction: ‘Not while I draw breath, it won’t.’ With such, she felt the immense weight of fatigue fall down upon her, with her final thought of determination in mind, her stormy gaze closed and the world was silent and still.

~*~

The sun cast setting rays into the quiet dormitory where Stephan sat upon his bed. Propped against the wall, Stephan sat quietly, idly reading a news article on the dented tablet in hand. The report held ominous news regarding the continued economic woes of the European Union and the South America Union of States and various pundits were criticising the transnational blocs for allowing too liberal of policies that gave way to the effects of the unstable global markets. The article, though only mildly interesting to Stephan, was laden with about half of the pundits openly or passively blaming Subjects in the economic sphere causing instability. However, upon the thought of Subjects, Stephan’s sea-green gaze looked over to the solitary bed across from his own, wondering where Roe was. The reclusive young man was late to return, which was quite out of character for him, for Roe was nigh always on time to anything he planned to attend, unless an outside force had delayed him.

Though the news site before him caught his attention as it reloaded and depicted an announcement from the office of the President of the Pacific Union, and so Stephan opened the link. A video feed awaited opening and so Stephan obliged. An anchorwoman appeared before the palatial looking buildings and began to speak; “We go to live to President Ehrhardt, with his address to the media…” With that, the screen went dark before illuminating once more. Royal blue curtains trimmed in gold hung in the background on the stage solitary and motionless. The floor, a light oak hardwood creaked as thirteen figures took their positions all around the podium all looking stoic and detached from the situation at hand, holding to a rather large distance. The podium itself was made of glass and was emblazoned with the sigil of the Union; a white dove with a rose in its beak in midflight, surrounded by twelve stars all on an azure backdrop.

From the side of the screen a solitary man emerged. Snow white hair was pulled loosely back and over his ears. Weathered, tan skin was taut over the man’s narrow frame which was donned in complete white, save for a blue vest and a light blue tie. However, regardless of his aged person, the man held himself proudly and with dignity. Placing himself behind the podium, he waved a hand to those who cheered. Though these admirers of President Ehrhardt were all but drowned out by jeers and boos, often broken up with hateful slander being shouted. Ehrhardt ignored it all and offered a gentle smile before speaking; “My fellow Union members. We are at a crossroads, and two paths are laid before us. For one leads to denying Subjects their human rights and the other sees them on equal foundation to the rest of humanity. Such a contentious topic could not be given a decision quickly, and I, on behalf of the transnational government, thank you for your patience.” Ehrhardt paused and the crowd, out of sight, was eerily quiet as they awaited the President’s decision. “It is my opinion that the hateful opinion of a few has pervaded our society. But today we begin the long and arduous process of removing it.” Once more, a pause was made before Ehrhardt continued; “It is the decision of the transnational government to grant the Subjects, who are artificially born humans, their human rights.”

Three figures behind the man began openly applauding; the Canadian, Australian, and Brazilian representatives nodded to Ehrhardt as he looked to the thirteen figures for a moment. Though their approval, save a few in the small crowd before them, were the only figures supporting the President’s decision; boos and jeers flooded Stephan’s tablet’s speakers. Though a figure, from the other side of the stage, garbed in a black and gold formal military suit made his way onto the stage before speaking into the microphones on the podium, his voice echoing loudly; “The President will not be taking any questions. Refer all questions to his office.” The man’s voice was stern before he led Ehrhardt away, his singular orbed gaze darting to the crowd once. The video feed flickered out before returning to the anchorwoman, though Stephan paid it no heed, for the young Greek failed to comprehend as to why so many were against Ehrhardt’s decision.

“It’s just like at the mall… People are just being controlled by their fear! And they don’t even realise it…” Stephan grumbled to himself, shaking his head. Voices of hatred, of cruelty, and of malice; they dominated masses uncounted and unchecked. Once more looking to the ever absent place of Roe, he pushed himself to a stand, discarding the tablet in hand, and turning to the window where the sun had set behind the opposing building, casting a dull glow over the landscape before him. He watched students idling about, speaking lightly and laughing and Stephan found himself longing for the company of others. He had gotten distracted by a social networking site and then linked to the news site. Though a rustling at the door caught his attention; the knob turned and Stephan turned, hope building in his heart that all was well.

The door swung open silently and a black clad Roe stepped through. Adorning a pair of tight fitting black pants and a shirt partially comprised of fine chain links and otherwise a Kevlar substance, he struck a unique figure. Although he had a composed expression, from his stiff gait, it could be discerned that he was less than pleased. Taking a seat at his own eerily blank desk, bereft of anything save a few textbooks, he spun his chair to meet Stephan’s stair. “Apologies. I am tardy for dinner.” Seeing Stephan’s confused look, he expanded upon his thought: “I do not know why they loathe us so. It is as though our existence is a crime. Regardless, I ran into a curious aberration upon the walls of the history building on the other side of campus.” The young Subject procured his phone, little more than a small slab of clear screen and placed it next to his tablet, turning both on before simply dragging an unseen file onto the tablet. Offering the pristine piece of technology to Stephan, the Greek frowned greatly, feeling anger rising heatedly in his heart. Upon the main set of doors to the history building were three statements spray painted: ‘kill the fake humans!’ Then below; ‘a test tube is not a womb!’ And finally ‘Ehrhardt is playing God with NELO!’ Stephan stiffly returned the tablet to the eerily calm Subject. “Shall we go to dinner?” Roe inquired as he shut off the tablet once more.

Stephan clenched and unclenched his fists in his lap angrily, trying and failing to compose himself. “How can you be so calm, Roe?! These are educated people and they act like rednecks!” Stephan stood abruptly, his glimmering eyes flaring with anger. The injustice was palpable to Stephan; Roe and his fellow Subjects had helped keep so many post-Barren disaster cities and the like not become ghost towns of the old and dying. They gave children to those who could not have any; they gave hope and love to families who would otherwise be destitute. “You and everyone else from NELO, you’re being persecuted like the Jewish peoples of Germany in the nineteen forties! It’s monstrous!” Stephan breathed out a long breath, calming himself marginally as he saw the confusion rise into a curious expression on Roe’s face. Roe’s life was a sad thing, Stephan decided. But with Ehrhardt’s declaration… maybe it would be as the old man had hoped; maybe things would be better.

Roe looked out the window, loosely crossing a leg over the other and sighed almost sadly, a far off look in his frigid eyes. “What they think is unimportant. It does not affect me because what they have to think is worthless.” His words were calm, though part of Stephan’s heart doubted how much the enigmatic figure before him believed such things. “What I do not understand, however…” Roe turned to face Stephan who had once more taken a seat; “Is why you have been kind where others have not be. I have understood from childhood that there are those who are cruel and they are numerous. There are also those who are kind, if cowardly, and wish the best, but never act and watch injustice reign. Then… there are people such as Mother or you. You are a curious phenomenon. It seems to be illogical, in my mind: why would you be kind when it brings you naught but ill tidings? I have asked the same of Mother, but all she has told me is that I will know the answer when the time is right.” Roe returned his gaze to the window, his hands folding in his lap as he awaited Stephan’s response.

Stephan stood once more, suddenly feeling that Roe was either being a great fool or that he had dispensed such wisdom that the young Greek simply could not fathom it. Deciding that the world was not a place where those who tried to do good deeds was a bad idea, he huffed irritably. “You’re impossible…” He grumbled, and a small smirk appeared for but a moment on Roe’s face before disappearing into the emotionless mask he wore eternally. “But… I still think you’re wrong.” Stephan was once more me with a confused look from Roe, though the former only chuckled lightly; “Come on, let’s go to dinner before they run out of good food or the good stuff gets old.” Roe and Stephan stood once more and made their way toward the door, the Subject watching Stephan closely, and the young Greek could feel the icy gaze on his back as the two exited their dormitory.

The two walked down the narrow hallway toward the elevator where they could hear the idle chatter of some of their floor-mates. Emiliyia leaned against the pastel red wall adjacent to the elevator and spoke lightly with an unknown young man, predictably, around their age. He wore a knee length double breasted coat and a pair of grey slacks and rather intense looking combat boots, though for his glib garb, he donned a bright smile on a freckled face and with a shock of reddish brown hair, he looked eerily similar to Emiliyia in many respects. The young Bulgarian girl looked to the approaching Roe and Stephan and offered an excited wave, which Stephan returned in kind as the four met up. “Roe! Stephan! Going to dinner are we? You should join  Bori and I, we’re on our way there, too.” The aforementioned man, whom Stephan was growing ever surer was Emiliyia’s brother, looked to the two for a moment before back to Emiliyia with a confused look on his face.

“It is Borislav for the record. Em has an annoying habit to give how you say… nick names. So which one’s the Subject, Em?” The young man asked in a smooth voice typical for his ethnicity. “The kids on the first floor told me he looked like an alien…” He mused thoughtfully as he leaned over from his surprisingly impressive height, eyeing Roe first, then Stephan. “It’s you, yah?” He asked in a thick accent, peering at Stephan critically. Though his assertion only brought laughter to Emiliyia and Stephan, though Roe remained predictably quiet as the two shared a laugh. Though Borislav merely rose back to his full height, “I was wrong? Weird…” He looked to Roe afterward, “So, you then? Interesting.” Roe nodded once though remained silent otherwise. However the elevator offered a resolute dinging noise and the doors parted, revealing the glass structure to be devoid of anyone else, and so the four walked on, taking point at the corners of the elevator and falling into silence. Emiliyia merely looked between Stephan, Roe and Borislav expectantly, though no one seemed to mind the silence save her.

The elevator descended quite slowly, slower than most elevators Stephan noted, as the silence grew more powerful. “You boys are so boring! Come on, we can’t eat dinner in silence!” Roe opened his mouth to give protest, though she shushed him with the pinching of air between her fingers, “No helping the other team, Roe!” She snapped playfully, offering the Subject a wry smirk, though was only repaid with a noncommittal stare. Evidently Roe would only speak when spoken to at this point, though such was what Stephan had come to expect from the peculiar young blond when in group situations. Roe did not care for groups of people or quite frankly people in general, and so it fell to Stephan to instigate him to speak. Though the elevator opened once more and Emiliyia led them left and down one of the other halls of dormitories which ended in an exit into the central courtyard between some of the nearby dormitory complexes. With a firm push, the door slid open with the sound of metal grating, which Stephan surmised was likely the result of too many drunk university students breaking the door in the past years. The sun was low in the sky and cast brilliant hues of orange, red and gold in the sky overhead, and Stephan craned his head to see them as they walked along, the casual passerby greeting one of them from time to time.

Cement walkways turned to gravel as they neared the central building which was largely cut off from their building and the four students were met with more people vying to enter the dining hall. Entering the main floor of the dining hall, one would see the expansive lobby of the set of dormitory complexes they resided in. Various young men and women lounged on couches charging tablets and other more foreign forms of technology such as the malleable electronic paper; a product as thin as paper but accomplished the same purpose as a tablet. Many more students merely stood around with recycled containers embellished with the green triangle of arrows and filled with food, chatting lightly. Emiliyia chatted lightheartedly with Borislav before them and Stephan learned that the two were indeed brother and sister and that Borislav lived in one of the other dormitories but felt like visiting her today. “That’s really cool, you know guys. My sister is back in America and still too young to go to university. Lucky buggers.” Stephan shot a grin at Borislav who only groaned.

“Not so lucky, Stephan.” Borislav drawled as he cast a leery gaze at his sister who only offered him a clearly fake innocent smile. “My dear sister here is a pain in my ass. She thinks it’s fun to shout cute nicknames at me on campus and cause everyone around me to avoid me like the plague. Real treat having a sibling on campus, yep.” The young Bulgarian man groaned again as she slung her arm over his shoulders, and the sheer absurdity of seeing a girl so small in comparison to Borislav try to place her arm around his neck and merely resulted in her walking on her toes on one foot as she struggled to hold to his height. Stephan found himself reminded of his own family, and felt the ache of their absence set in. He did miss his family, though he had left them to sew a new life somewhere else, to become his own person and to cultivate his own life. His parents and indeed his sibling were good people and would no doubt support Roe as well, but here he felt as though he were just a kid clinging to his new toy with jealous abandon. Stephan worried deeply that, if he left Roe alone, the Subject would be hurt in some way, regardless of what the young Greek suspected were above average martial fighting abilities from what he had seen of Roe in every other field of life.

However the lobby of the central dormitory building held to it a tense sensation, and many of those gathered leered worriedly at the doors to the cafeteria. Following their gazes, Stephan saw nothing of note, short of the ever typical signs and notices placed upon the doors. Many of them, as he had noticed during his previous visits to the building, were ads for the TPW or other groups on campus. Though, as the four opened the doors to the stairs leading to the dining hall, a peculiar message was laid out on an official notice by the university which Emiliyia read aloud, the displeasure in her voice palpable; “Due to increased threats against Subject-borne students, all Subjects are hereby asked to sit in the designated area, so that they might be guarded against any negative acts by subversive elements on campus.” Swearing in Bulgarian she stomped her foot.

“That’s total bullshit! C’mon, guys. We’re sitting as a group and that is final.” She stormed up the steps and rounded the corner of the mid-level landing. Borislav was quickly in pursuit and Roe made long strides, keeping up smoothly as he remained quiet. Stephan brought up the rear and looked warily at the various signs plastered on the glass walls of the stairwell, offering a place to any student in the TPW Club; the True Persons’ World Club. Finer print advocated for the removal of Subject human rights to keep The Awakening from performing terroristic acts on the world, though such was all Stephan read before he angrily turned his head and made it to the top of the stairs, where a man adorned in dark blue slacks, a white dress shirt and a sweater vest emblazoned with the seal of the university stood, successfully blocking the entrance to the dining hall.

The man looked to the four of them and spoke in a deep and warning voice, his dark skin creasing around his eyes as he furrowed his brow, staring at them. “Expose your left wrist. If you are found to be a Subject, you will be directed to the safe seating area.” The man was met with stunned silence as the audacity of doing such on a campus set in. Roe stepped forward, though with one firm hand was stopped by Borislav who shook his head, evidently having an idea. The blond Subject protested wordlessly as he pushed against the Bulgarian’s hand, though the latter was evidently not giving up. Emiliyia looked helplessly between Stephan and Borislav, wishing one of them would do something, her eyes full of worry for their wellbeing.

“I may not be from here, but Neo-Palmyra falls under American jurisdiction. And if I recall, the American Constitution says that we’re free from unreasonable search and seizure. So we’re passing.” Borislav said angrily, the sound of his teeth grating audible as he stepped to the guard’s side and removed the length of fabric closing the other side of the stairwell with a snap of retracting polyester fabric into the opposing pillar and stormed through. “Don’t even stop me or I sue you, yah?” Borislav snapped at the man who turned, trying to stop him. Roe was the first to follow, and as he passed, tapped the inside of the wrist almost mockingly, a dangerous look in his eyes that disturbed the ever great hearted Emiliyia. Quickly followed by the young woman and Stephan, the four found the Subject section completely empty; evidently the other Subjects either didn’t go to dinner or just weren’t going to play along. Such gave Stephan a great deal of hope for the wellbeing of them, especially as Subjects were just given their international human rights. The four schoolmates separated and collected their food; Emiliyia travelling to the panini grilling station and retrieving a sandwich from them, Borislav procuring a pork chop, piles of beans and mashed potatoes, Stephan ordering a personal sized pizza and Roe finding himself a square of lasagna that, to Stephan, still looked rather unappetising and found unpleasant to watch being eaten by Roe. Though the reserved Subject seemed to adore the meal and ate it often and quickly, commenting on its quality after every slice. Converging, the four found themselves hailed by name by a relatively empty table that sat at max ten. At the edge of it sat Vadim and Leonas, the former shouting loudly.

“Row Boat! Stevie Wonder! Boring! Emy!” He called out, adding emphasis to each ridiculous nicknames that brought many rather sour looking bystanders casting them irritated looks as they made their way to the ever quarrelling Leonas and Vadim. The four took their seats, Roe seated next to Vadim, Emiliyia across from him and next to the ever displeased looking Leonas, Stephan next to her and Borislav. “Well I didn’t expect you guys here! Leo here was getting his panties in a knot over trying to stick me in the Subject section so he brought up Miranda Rights even though they totally have nothing to do with search and seizure –“ He was cut off as Leonas began to speak, though Vadim shushed him with a flourish of a hand, “Yes yes I know, blah blah blah, opinions and all that boring jazz.” Stephan laughed boldly at the two arguing like a married couple, growing more assured these two went so far back that to see one without the other, moreover not arguing, would be unnatural. Though Vadim fell silent as an unknown man, looking to be in his fourth year or so, coupled with a pretty young woman in her early twenties took point at the end of the table.

“This him?” The male gestured roughly to Roe, and the blond turned to face the two newcomers. The young woman ran a hand through her long dark brown hair and nodded, which brought a scowl to the man’s face. “Fuckin’ sick! I can’t believe they serve these freaks here. I didn’t know the university sunk to wasting our tuition fees on fake people.” His words were followed by a clamber of a falling fork from Vadim’s hand, the Russian man’s mouth agape at what he had just heard. Leonas went to stand but Roe shot him a look and the Lithuanian kept still, a knowing look on his face. “Nothing to say? Or did they not teach you that in the factory?” The man jeered in a hateful tone. Stephan was reminded of high school movies from the early twenty-first century; jocks bullying others for being different, and he felt hatred begin to grow. He placed his hands on the table’s cheap surface, rising, before a firm hand and with surprising strength, Roe pushed him back into his seat from across the table. Stephan looked to Roe angrily, though the blond only mouthed the words ‘let me.’

The woman next to him curled her arms around his right arm and nodded. “Yeah, that’s him! He was trying to take the stairs – which are for real people – so we stopped him. It would’ve been awful if he did! We can’t let these freaks feel welcome, what if –“ the woman was cut off as Roe stood at his full height, the metallic links of his shirt jingling lightly. Roe took a step toward the two, his head cocked to the side and expressionless mask of a face boring into hers. The girl shuddered and looked away; “God! It’s like a fucking doll is looking at me!” She shrunk behind the male she was coiled around and the man seemed to grow angrier at Roe’s actions. Though the silent Subject merely stood there, analysing the man with a critical eye, however what Roe planned remained a mystery to Stephan and everyone at the table who, for the moment, remained seated. Vadim’s brow was knit in fury and Leonas had a dangerous look in his eye as he watched the scene much akin to an eagle looking down on its prospective prey. Emiliyia sat there, hands clenched in fists as she refrained from speaking and disturbing whatever it was Roe had in mind.

“Freaking out my fiancée? That’s it, you crossed the line, freak show.” The man taunted angrily, removing his arm from the clutches of his fiancée’s and stood toe to toe with Roe. Taller and bulkier, the older man had a clear advantage in any sort of fight, which was almost what Roe seemed to want. ‘Does Roe want to fight this guy? No, Roe wouldn’t want to fight… He realises that this guy wants a fight. Oh man, this idiot is playing into his hand!’ Stephan thought, a small grin coming to his face as he saw Roe’s face, though impassive, continued to calculate various unknown variables and the like. He and the offending newcomer stood there for a long moment before the latter raised his hand in a fist and swung for Roe’s cheek. Roe didn’t even blink as he looked to the oncoming fist and in a blur of motion, he ducked low, dodging the assault. “Squirming little fuck!” The man shouted. A crowd had begun to gather around the two and finally Leonas stood, mouthing off gawkers with his own rather coloured tongue and telling them to, in tasteful terms, return to whence they came. Though the offending man was not pleased with Roe dodging, and so he swung again, going to impact Roe, who had once more stood, in the jaw. Roe once more dodged the likely brutal hit, though this time actually did something.

Moving as he spoke, Roe had an entirely calm and cool voice; “I do not understand what I have done to offend you. Though if it is my existence I won’t apologise for such…” He said as he dodged another swing, “Though I do apologise for this.” He said as he reached out with trained speed, grabbing the man’s wrist with his left hand and delivering an open fisted blow to the older male’s elbow, resulting in a sickening crunch of bone as his arm bent in the other direction. The man cried out in pain as he held his arm, though evidently Roe was not finished as he spoke again; “And I apologise for this. Though you have interrupted what was most likely to be an ideal dinner and so I doubt the necessity of my apology.” With that, he delivered an open palmed strike to the man’s sternum, and another sickening crunch could be heard. The larger man doubled over and cried out in agony, a stream of muddled swears. The woman he had accompanied, who had been forcefully removed from the situation by the swings of her fiancé’s arms was now at his side, looking up at Roe with tears and fury in her eyes. Roe leaned down and peered at her coolly, “He requires medical attention. Your efforts would be better spent in bringing him to a clinic rather than swearing at me. He has a broken elbow and a fractured sternum. Remember that for when the doctors ask.” With that, Roe returned to his seat and retrieved his fork.

The fiancée of the offensive man helped him up who went to strike Roe once more, but was stopped by the searing pain in his fractured sternum making any pectoral muscle movement incredibly painful. The others gathered at the table eyed Roe with awe and shock. “What? He interrupted our dinner.” Roe said idly as he separated a forkful of lasagna and ate it. Vadim chuckled loudly and extended a hand for a high five, though Roe only looked at it, confused. The concept of a high five had evidently never been taught to Roe, and so he only saw it as an indication that he should stop whatever he was doing. Emiliyia leaned across the table and whispered to him what a high five was before finally the blond Subject offered a half-hearted responding high five, the light clap of hands a far cry from what was normally expected by social convention.

Stephan however watched Roe with unveiled astonishment. Roe had held his own against a man older, taller and stronger than himself and with such ease it seemed inhumane. The exuberant Greek grinned widely at Roe who only nodded once as he returned his attention to his food. “You are going to get into so much shit for that, bud.” Leonas pointed out dryly, though Roe only shrugged, evident ignorant of this kind of offense or simply apathetic toward the repercussions. ‘Well, at the very least, I don’t have to worry about him getting hurt around campus by those dicks.’ Stephan chuckled a little, suddenly feeling as though he was Roe’s mother.

All rights reserved. Contact author for redistribution.
Revised March 21, 2014.