It Could Be Worse
Episode 11: I'm Not A Criminal!
By Sulia Serafine
[1-24-01. A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.
Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!
E-mail me at silverwLng@aol.com, okay? Thank you and have a nice day.
P.S. I've fixed the PROFILES for EVERYONE. You can now see Kel, Joren (those two are the longest loading. Be patient), Neal, Owen, Cleon, Faleron, Lalasa, and Roald. And, of course, they are still screwy. I guess that means I have to work on my web page (although I really, really don't feel like it).]
"We're wanted by the DJPF?" Keladry said in a small voice. They gathered around the counter of a trucker's pit stop. The six people's eyes were glued to the holo-screen. A reporter for channel 5 news was reading off descriptions as well as displaying pictures of Joren, Keladry, and Cleon. Their images were framed in a startling bright shade of red-- the same red used on warning labels of harmful chemicals. Words scrolled beside the picture-- physical statistics. The reporter went on to say…
"These three former DJPF members of Tortall and Tusaine have been charged as of 3:20 AM this Copper City morning for the kidnapping of Roald Jasson, the Vice President's son and for altering the tax records and city budget within the Mayor's personal offices to frame Mayor Veldine…"
"Frame! He's the one who--" Cleon exclaimed in rage before Lalasa clamped a hand over his mouth. She glared at him and let go. People were looking at the young group of men and women. They whispered among themselves and thought best to keep to themselves. The titter among the diner's patrons gradually faded as the news continued.
"A tie and a Cavall University Blazer were found in the woods…"
Roald gulped. He thought to his self, "They didn't find my note?"
"This is such bull!"
"Shh!" Keladry held up her finger to her lips.
Joren grabbed Faleron's hat from the thief's head and yanked it down over Cleon's eyes. "Just shut up and walk out. And turn down the volume of that holo-screen." The blonde glared at them all before putting on a pair of sunglasses and keeping his head low. Keladry, having neither hat nor sunglasses, just brushed all her bangs into her face and turned her gaze downward. They couldn't let anyone see their faces well. But they also had to be inconspicuous. "Let's go. We have to get out of this sector as soon as possible. And R--" he wanted to say the name. But the middle-aged waitress in the light blue uniform was giving them the evil eye. "Just get over here!"
Roald moved forward, scratching the back of his head. He whispered, "I'm so sorry about this. I didn't think they would frame you."
"Doesn't matter now. Just get in the car and keep your head down." He clutched the back of Roald's collar. He roughly shoved him out the diner, as any officer would do a suspect with handcuffs. The others followed orderly and obediently, not wishing to arouse even more suspicion from the public eye of the people.
The young men, excluding Joren, filed into the back seat. Roald remained in the middle with Faleron to the right and Cleon to the left. Keladry started the car while Joren put away his sunglasses and put on his helmet. Lalasa turned nervously to look at Roald. She looked like she was about to say something, but didn't. She shrank down in her seat.
When they were five miles out, Roald broke the silence. "I left a note."
"You what?" Lalasa blinked
He made himself a bit louder. "I left a note. It was a big fat note that I taped to the top of my bed in my handwriting. It was saying that I was running away. And that my Mom shouldn't worry. Didn't they see it?"
"They saw it all right," Faleron replied. He shook his finger at the screen. "But in either case of kidnapping or running away, the DJPF of Copper is obligated to check the premises. Mayor Veldine knew they would find the fake records in the office computers. Naturally, they probably decided to kill two birds with one stone. The dirt bags tore up the note, saw the cameras before the DJPF did, and adjusted it so they had Kel and Stone come near your room. And here we are."
Cleon slammed his right fist into his left palm. "Man! But I'm not a criminal! I wasn't in that mansion! How come they put my picture up there with Keladry and Joren?"
"You were assigned to them. And if you're missing along with them, then you're a suspect," Lalasa sighed. She fiddled with the radio music, trying to drown out everything else with new age rock. No one protested.
Until the redhead spoke up again… "Hey, guys. Did my hair really look that bad on the holo-screen?"
"Hair gel, Kennan. Hair gel," Faleron nodded.
"Could you stop that?" Keladry growled. She glanced in the mirror to see them. "This is serious. It hasn't even been that long since we left Mr. Trebond's and now we're wanted by our own."
Roald shifted around uncomfortably. He didn't know what to say. It was his fault. He shouldn't have hid in their car. It was stupid and foolish for him to think he could leave the path set for him by everyone who knew best. "I think I should go back. It would be best for me to go home and clear everything up."
Lalasa twisted the volume knob down to nothing and turned around her seat again. "Are you sure that's what you want to do?" Before he could speak, she started again. "It better not be for us. Don't do anything for us. Do it for yourself."
"This is for myself," he insisted. "I belong there-- in that world. It's where I came from."
"We can't," Keladry said evenly. "We have to see what else happens. There might be more surprises." She came to a stop sign and glanced at the black clad biker in front of her. He turned around to look at them and then rode off. She sighed and pressed down on the pedal lightly.
Cleon, combing his hair with his hand, shrugged. "If the guy wants to go home, let him go. It's his decision."
Faleron shook his head. "Don't go, Jasson."
"But I can tell them the truth!" the future politician protested.
"Yeah, you can tell the truth. But who will believe you? The mayor's been getting greedier if you haven't noticed. He'll tell the free world that we threatened you not to say a word. He'll say that you cut a deal with us to steal from Veldine and run away a second time."
"My mother and father would not allow it!"
"Your mom and dad aren't here. They're overseas, right?"
He flinched. Faleron had a point. There was nothing he could do but stay with them. "Okay then." His expression was purely apologetic. "I'll work for my own food. I can promise you that."
"Oh, just like one of those fake campaign promises?" Cleon laughed.
"What? But--"
"Nothing. Obviously everyone's sense of humor is gone today," he muttered while leaning his chin on his palm.
~~
A couple hours later, they were at another resting station. The three Dominion Jewel Protection Force members were officially incognito. Cleon now kept Faleron's bowler hat yanked over his wild red hair. Joren either stuck with his helmet or sunglasses. And Keladry bought a cheap baseball cap to wear on her head. It was blue with a little cat logo on the front. Lalasa had picked it out.
"It looks cute," the older girl assured her. "I've seen your wardrobe, Kel, and you need something cheery like this."
"My clothing isn't meant to be cheery," she dryly replied.
Lalasa tapped her nose. "And maybe that's why you aren't cheery. Just relax, like me. See?" She stretched out on the bench outside the cluster of bathrooms. The tips of branches brushed against her dark hair from where the trees hung over them. "Just find something to keep yourself occupied."
Keladry studied her, picking apart at the hints of emotion in each gesture Lalasa made. It was frustrating sometimes how Lalasa could be a normal girl one moment, and an extraordinary girl the next moment-- and then, not a girl, but a powerful woman in control. Keladry's life was spinning out of control. After all her hard work, after everything she sacrificed…
She took a deep breath and sat down. "Can I ask you something?"
The Carthakian sat up. "Sure."
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
Keladry shrugged a little nervously. "You know, stay in control."
Lalasa giggled. "I'm not in control. What are you talking about?"
"Yes you are," Keladry said stubbornly. She folded her arms tightly against her abdomen. "You have a way of staying balanced and secure in your own thoughts. I can't possibly do that." She looked around them to see if anyone was listening. She scooted closer to her on the bench. "My thoughts torture me every moment of the day." Keladry pulled in her knees to her chest. "And I know everyone can tell. I know they see it written all over my face."
"You must be joking," Lalasa rolled her eyes. She cupped her chin and lifted her head up. "Whenever I see you, your face is blank. All you energy goes into keeping that barrier between you and other people. Why? Is it to keep them from getting in your way? So you can reach your goal without any distractions?"
"But it's a damn blindfold as well as a barrier," Keladry whispered. "I keep stumbling around. I want control! I need it or else I can't breathe easy at all. I'm not in control like you."
She let out a deep breath and swung her legs back and forth. "Yeah. I guess." As if by habit, she started finding a lock of dark hair around her finger. "I thought that Fal was the in-control one."
"Yes. Faleron's confidence puts him in control. And yes, even more than you I admit it, but it's not the same. I see him screw up just as much as he succeeds and he balances. But you don't screw up."
"Honey, everyone screws up. I'm just lucky enough not to have anyone around when I do." She tucked her hair behind one ear and licked her lips. It was strange having a woman-to-woman talk with Keladry. The younger one seemed to be breaking down right in front of her. She cleared her throat and sat straighter. When the tree branch came in contact with her head, she tilted her head. "And don't think my self-esteem or ego has anything to do with luck. There's no such thing as luck except bad luck." Her eyes misted over. She gazed out into the distance.
"For the latter of my life, no one was around." She let out a shaky laugh and toed a rock with her shoe. "When your father is the notorious rebel leader who takes lives of the innocent in the so-called name of the good, you try not to have him around. You try not to have anyone around."
She stood up. "Sometimes, strangers make the best company when compared to the company of your own father-- or any family member. Maybe if I'd met my mother, then things would be different. I don't know." She put her hands in her pants pocket. She leaned to one side and stretched out one leg. Then she did the same with the other. "I guess you could say that's why I flirt. I'm not all about guys. Just strangers who don't know you and who won't know you." She smiled. "Yeah, I guess that's why."
Keladry looked up at her with a newfound sense of sympathy mixed in with her admiration. "Am I a stranger?"
"Yeah. I don't know that much about you."
"Oh."
"How was it while you grew up, sugar?"
The female officer raised her invisible mask on as naturally as she could. She tugged on the brim of her baseball cap. "I'm afraid I was the one to keep my family at bay and turn them into strangers. I was so caught up with my role model that I didn't even see when they stopped trying to reach me. For the longest time, they tried to get me to have fun. And then…"
Lalasa nodded. She spontaneously stomped her foot on the ground and put her hands on her hips. "You know what? This is getting way too, depressing. I think I'll go talk to Roald."
"You consider him a stranger?"
She grinned. "Yeah. And if strangers make the better friends, then that's exactly how I'm going to keep him."
Keladry watched her walk back to the car. A thought came to her. "Lalasa!"
"Huh? What is it?"
"Don't you ever get lonely like that?"
The other young woman laughed. "You know, you're a fine one to talk. Are you lonely, Kel?"
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Don't worry about it. See you in the car."
Keladry got up and walked to the edge of the sidewalk. There was some commotion going on behind her. She could hear the banging noises like someone was kicking glass and plastic. Cleon was shouting at a vending machine while Faleron leaned on it, munching on a large pretzel. Finally, he gave up. The redhead now started to punch the coin return button repetitiously.
"Hey, Officer," Faleron said after swallowing a bit of his food. He jerked a thumb toward his friend. "As you can see, Cleon just got into a fight with a pile of metal and plastic and lost."
She allowed herself a slight smirk, identical to the thief's.
"That's so not fair! I want my money back!"
Faleron generously held out his hand. "You can have a piece of my pretzel. It's very tasty."
"I don't want your stupid pretzel."
"Come now, I'll have you know that pretzels have an I. Q. of 1.00134--"
"Oh, shut up, Fal!"
Faleron grinned. He began eating his pretzel again. Cleon's face was nearly as red as his hair, from all the physical exertion of kicking the vending machine and the embarrassment the thief was giving him. Keladry narrowed her eyes at Faleron, who only grinned wider.
"Stop teasing him," she reprimanded.
"I don't need you to stand up for me!" Cleon sat down on the ground with his legs crossed and folded. He tucked his hands near under his armpits and pouted. Faleron burst into a fit of laughter and took his hat from the redhead. He spun it around on one hand while stuffing the last of his food in his mouth. "Aww, look at this! Hat hair?"
"Yeah, hats are capable of doing that to you."
"Shut up, Faleron!"
Keladry nervously ran a finger under the brim of her own blue hat. She wondered absently whether she had hat hair. And then she went as far to wonder if Joren had helmet hair. "Forget that," she thought, slightly peeved. "He is incapable of helmet hair."
"Hair gel, Kennan, what do I keep telling you?"
She left the two comrades alone and walked into the parking lot. She could see the outlines of Lalasa and Roald sitting in the car. And faintly, she could hear them talking. Roald seemed nice. He looked too serious to her, probably a product of years under etiquette classes and being told his expectations. He could have ended up like Cleon, fighting to keep everyone laughing so he could bask in it while he could.
"I don't know why I'm telling you this," Cleon said as they walked back to their rooms in the Academy. "But you look like you listen, even if you're trying to remain emotionless." He snickered. "I'll tell you something, you can't pull it off. To be emotionless is to be a jackass like Stone there downstairs. You're just trying to remain distanced. And I can respect that."
"You like to talk a lot," she remarked with a raised eyebrow. "I know more about you than I know about my own brother and it's only been three days."
"Yeah, people tell me that. I like to tell people my favorite things. My best experiences. It brings everyone closer and everyone's happy…" He bit his lip. His voice lowered to a whisper. "At home, my parents were really strict. And stiff. They could be Stone's parents for crying out loud. I was a kid. I needed to burn my energy with jokes and pranks and whatever I could do just so I couldn't see the fact that they wished I wasn't there. Like they could have lived better without me. And so, I laugh all the time. It beats being like them."
She nodded. They reached his room. "Is that why you fell into the pond?"
"Oh, now that's complete different," he chuckled. "Okay, okay. Maybe not… but I'll explain it some other time. See you later!"
And then, he could have been like Faleron.
"My parents? I never saw them. Not until their faces were on the news. My mother was yelling at my father while moving men were repossessing the house and a Councilman was throwing him out of office. A few bystanders were screaming at him." He started fiddling with his shirt buttons, removing a lose thread. "I wasn't deprived of love and affection though. My uncle and aunt were fantastic. When I came home from boarding school, I lived with them and my cousin Merric." He dropped the thread into the trash bin. "Merric thought the world of me. It was plain fact. He always followed me around, tried to copy my actions."
He put his hands behind his head. "Like one time, when I just turned 17 and he was 10, he saw me shaving in my room. And the little fellow took a tiny handful of the shaving cream and smeared it on his face-- as well as his clothes and the whole bathroom counter. Hmm…I suppose the young chap would be ashamed to know what I'm doing now, wouldn't you say, Officer?"
Keladry turned away from the car and walked to the opposite side of the parking lot. She'd had about enough of all the heartfelt talks with everyone. She was sick of hearing how everyone had problems. Was there not one person among them that had a great family life? Keladry ignored her loving family. Cleon had strict parents. Faleron had neglecting ones. Lalasa had a notorious one. Roald had controlling ones. And Joren had--
Joren was seated on his bike, reaching down to wipe something off an exposed part of the engine below. He turned his head and looked at her --well, maybe not at her. He was wearing sunglasses still. The cold operative took off his the dark shades and gave her a once over before getting off his motorcycle and walking away.
"Bad mood as always," she thought and turned on her heel. She hoped Lalasa didn't mind that she wanted to get into the car and destroy her private talk with the Vice President's handsome son.
"Keladry, good. It's you." Lalasa saw her coming and got out of the car. "I just received a call from my father."
The DJPF officer's eyes locked on the other girl. "What did you just say?"
"He called me!" She grabbed Keladry's hand and squeezed it a little. "I was so scared of what he'd say. I was supposed to stay in Carthak."
"But he didn't tell you anything before he left."
"Yeah, well, it wasn't an excuse in any way. Whenever he goes out of town, I'm to stay in Carthak. Then he found out from Uncle Thom that I left. Uncle Thom didn't tell him that I was with you, but V--" she stopped herself. "Uh, some guy saw us at the Crypt together and later saw the three of you on the news because of Roald."
The remaining men in their traveling group showed up, having seen Lalasa's distressed expression from afar. She repeated the story to them while Roald leaned out of the back seat window with a look of concern.
"What else did he say?"
"He wants us to get out of the country. All of us."
"Even us?" Keladry questioned. "But he knows us. He knows we tried to bust him and that's why he had to hide."
Lalasa sighed. "I know. But he said he saw how you were rebelling against the government too by, uh, kidnapping Roald--"
"You let him think that?" Cleon gasped. "Oh, man! Now I know we're screwed!"
"It's better for him to think we're on his side," Joren said evenly. He folded his arms and stared at Lalasa. "He's going to help us, isn't he?"
She nodded. "There's a friend of his that will get us out of the country, across the Emerald Ocean. He won't do anything to Roald. I begged him not to, or at least wait until he could organize something. We just have to get out of here and hide in, like, the Yamanis. I've heard great things about that country."
"Calm down, we'll go, " Faleron said. He looked over her shoulder at Roald.
"Are you coming with us?"
"I don't have anywhere else to go," he replied.
"Good."
Cleon raised his hand. "No one gets seasick, do they?"
"And you do?"
"No!" The redhead blushed. "I just remember traveling with my ex-girlfriend on a ferry once and she got really nauseous…"
~~
They traveled to the coast within three days where Ozorne Tasikhe's friend was waiting. Lalasa was trembling as they strode down the pier to the boat. It was old, rusting on the deck with a dreary cabin and the words "Back from the Dead" painted sloppily on the lower part of the cabin door. She paused before stepping onto the plank, muttering something to herself.
"You're not starting to feel sick, are you?" Cleon asked. "If you get seasick, you can tell us."
"Yes, are you ill?" Roald asked.
"I've never been out of Carthak, let alone an ocean, but no. I'm not seasick," she said as they filed onto the deck. There were footsteps from the cabin as the door opened. A man resembling Roald (but older, taller, and stockier) came up the steps and greeted them with a mischievous smile. He stroked his short beard as he looked upon them.
"Ah, Lalasa. You've grown up to be such a beautiful young lady."
"Thank you," she replied shyly. After a few moments of silence, she spoke again. "Oh, sorry. Um, guys, this is Roger Conté, and sir, these are the ones Father told you about."
He nodded knowingly, going back down into the cabin. "Why don't you bring your stuff on board, Lalasa?"
They stared at the opened door and listened to the sounds Roger made as he tidied up. The latter of them had wide eyes and open mouths. Even Joren looked astonished, an emotion he didn't display often. Faleron regained his dignified look and cleared his throat. "Uh, Miss Isran, did you say his name was Roger Conté?"
"Yeah, that's what I thought she said, too," Cleon nodded vigorously.
"It is what I said," she answered. "Because it's true. He's a relative of the president."
Roald frowned. "I've never heard of him."
"You wouldn't. He separated from the rest of the Contés before Jonathan Conté came into office." She wound a lock of hair around her finger again and started to walk across the plank onto the pier. "Let's get our things and do as he says. Okay?"
It took a total of three minutes before anyone actually composed him or herself and followed her. The boat was big enough to bring aboard Joren's bike, but they had to sell the hover car to a black toothed man five minutes away from the pier. Faleron was very proud of himself. He'd managed to get the man to pay more for the car than the actual cost.
"Whose car was it anyway?" Roald asked Keladry.
"Uh, I don't think that's important," Cleon said before she could speak. He yanked Keladry away, muttering something about rentals.
And so, they spent five days crossing the Emerald Ocean. Keladry would often see Lalasa talking quietly with Roald on the prow of the ship. The Carthakian was so nervous around Roger. She couldn't blame her. The man spooked her as well. Faleron played poker with some Roger's men when they weren't busy, always winning some extra money for the group. And when he wasn't, he and Cleon stuck around the stern of the ship and cracked jokes-- each trying to outwit the other. Faleron won with his clever phrases, but Cleon pulled better pranks and was physically more comical. Roger himself stayed by the helm, talking with someone through his communications system or reading a map. He was trying to find a spot on the foreign coast to sneak them through. And Joren spent a lot of time in his quarters, shared with Roald, Cleon, and Faleron. Lalasa and Keladry took the Roger's private cabin while the captain himself bunked with his crew. And sometimes, Joren could be found checking up on his bike in steerage.
On the last day, Keladry had serious thoughts of calling Neal or Owen. She was used to someone talking while she listened. And on the trip, she was singled out as the one with nothing to do. Not that the rest of her group meant to do it intentionally-- they just didn't pay attention.
"Land ho!" Lalasa called out gleefully from the prow. She skipped up to Keladry. "Finally! We get off this ship!"
"Yeah," Keladry nodded. The others arrived because they heard the Carthakian's shout.
Roger called out to them from his post. "Enjoy your time in Tyra. Just be sure to keep low."
"We will. Thank you, sir," Lalasa replied. She inched nervously away. Roald put a hand on her shoulder.
"The Yamanis," Cleon grinned. "I think I'm going to like this place." He leaned out over the rail. "Hey! There's a girl tanning on that beach over there!" He twisted around to face them. "Can we possibly get dropped off over there?"
~~
Author: And in closing, I'd like to tell you some news. I'm going to be busy this upcoming week (school is not the reason this time, miraculously, although it will in two weeks) and I'm not going to get chapters out as fast. Maybe one chapter a week. Why? I have my first ever race. The excitement is building… No, I'm not in Track or anything. To tell you the truth, I'm a rower. And my novice regatta is next week. I don't know if anyone reading this is also a rower, but that's the reason why I'm going to be lazy with the next few chapters (which I'll tell you right now are very critical to the main plot of the story. It's better I take my time so I can be sure to get everything perfect). Please review. The more reviews, the more I'm tempted to skip homework and practice so I can write.
-Sulia Serafine
Closing Credits:
Special thanks to those who helped me with descriptions:
( Note: These people are VERY cool. Do not mess with them.)
Kestrel
Erin (Hyper Girl to the Rescue)
Sullychkk (Whose name is Caitie…)
And also to the people who volunteered to help with my web page:
FireLily
Jaelawyn Noble