Speculative fiction, an origin story
TWO YEARS BEFORE THE EVENTS OF SEASON 1 T.H.T., IN CHICAGO
"Dude, you're a natural. Don't do it. Don't take a demotion. By all that's holy Nick, you've just got a field commission!"
"Oh boy, it's not for me, Ezra, it's not for me," Nick said, cradling his beer and taking a drag on his cigarette.
The two men surveyed the scene in front of them. Parts of bodies littered among scattered parts of military vehicles.
Nick butted out his cigarette saying, "I may be good at this sort of stuff. I've learned, though, that being good at killing people is not what God is calling me to."
Ezra pointed to the chaos in front of them. "That's the cost, dude, the cost of building a righteous state. There are many evil men standing in our way."
"The captain, Sergeant Shaw, before he bought it - he put you in for West Point. There's a Commander in your home district who'll sponsor you. It's for the new Guardian service. Halfway between military and policing."
"I don't mean to seem ungrateful, sir, but this is what I'm called for. Chicago, it's not for everyone. Me, I do this well. I don't know what anything else is." Ezra Shaw finished his beer, then crushed the can in his fist.
Shaw continued, "Me, I'm glad it's you with the commission, even a field-one. You're the kind of officer who knows your role, you're to give us grunts the tools to do what you order. Excuse me for the observation, 'sir', but the old Captain, he never understood that. That's why he bought it. He thought we were working for him. In fact, he was working for us."
Blaine quipped, "and your job is to put a bullet in the back of the head of any officer who does not understand that."
Shaw smiled, "which is why, sir, you'll never get a bullet to the back of your head!" He continued, "How much do you know about this High Commander, High Commander Pryce?"
Blaine said, "he got me off the street. He interceded with my dad. My brother. Pryce takes care of his own."
Shaw said, "well, he is a mover and shaker. Me, I have my Commander back home. You, dude, you have a High Commander, an original - a real Sons of Jacob."
Blaine stood, "Sergeant, you ready for an order?"
Shaw said, "Hey, Lieutenant, does it really matter if I'm ready? Do I now have to teach you how to give an order?"
Blaine said, "No, I suppose it doesn't matter." Blaine paused to look at the ground. "Take a detail and try to retrieve as much of the Captain as you can. Use as many body bags as you need, this one is for the Captain. I'd like to preside at his committal at about 1800 hours. We're not animals."
"Yes, sir." Shaw looked back at Blaine, "hey, Lieutenant, that wasn't so bad, telling your buddies what to do." Collecting a few of the men as well as body bags, Shaw concluded with, "I can't imagine that High Commander Pryce will make you drive other Commanders around for long. You're a godly man, Lieutenant Blaine."
Blaine said, "if it's not Chicago, I'll enjoy the easier pace."
A YEAR BEFORE THE EVENTS OF SEASON 1, T.H.T. - in NEW GILEAD
Nick entered the sitting room at the Waterford mansion, wondering why Commander Waterford was not summoning him to his office. Since when did Waterford hold court in the sitting room!? Nick thought, 'maybe Rita's got it wrong, Rita's been falling apart all day, ever since yesterday's mess."
Yesterday's mess? It had started the night before yesterday. Early that evening, Nick had quietly trod the stairs all the way to the upper-most bedroom, the Handmaid's room. Opening her door - without knocking - she was after-all just the Handmaid - there she was, in heels and that low slung dress.
Okay, Nick thought, tonight is Jezebel's night. He thought, 'It would be nice if the Commander gave me a heads-up once in a while.' Then again, Nick had not seen Beth for the longest while. Depending on how long Waterford was at Jezebels with the Handmaid, Nick could catch up on all the subversive gossip that Beth had.
Fast forward, himself, Nick had not settled back into bed from the sojourn until 4:30 am. When the Commander had his dalliances like Jezebels - a Commander's perk, Waterford had called it - they were often late. But not '4:30 am' late. There was no way that Mrs. Waterford was not going to notice this one, and there was going to be hell to pay.
Then the 'mess', a mess of all messes. Nick was roused from sleep by a scream. His first thought, 'that's Rita!' He'd actually never heard her scream before, so he briefly wondered how he could be so sure it had been her.
Nick went into 'Chicago-mode', a crisis-management manner that had launched him into a field commission when others cowered. Before he knew it, he had run into the house, and raced the stairs up to the Handmaid's room, barely aware of how he knew where to go so quickly.
There was Rita on her knees, sobbing out a prayer. There was the handmaid, swinging. Once again, Nick knew little about where his quick action came from - within seconds the Handmaid had been cut down. Nick checked her vitals, but her colour betrayed that she was long gone. He laid her on the bed, walked over to get Rita, got her to stand and gently steered her out of the room, down the stairs.
Down on the second level, Mrs. Waterford was standing at the stairs leading down to the main floor, with anger on her face. All she said, was, "Nick?"
Nick replied, "don't go up, Mrs. Waterford. There's nothing for you there. Let me settle Rita, and I'll contact emergency personnel."
Nick's hands on Rita's shoulders saved her as she had missed the first step going down, almost tumbling.
Seeing that, Mrs. Waterford said, "Nick, maybe it would be good if Rita brought me my tea right now. I'll have it in my room. Just let me know when all of this concludes."
Mrs. Waterford never got her tea.
That was yesterday's mess.
When Nick later entered the sitting room, he'd finally figured out that it hadn't been for the Commander. Waterford had barricaded himself in his office, following the retrieval of the Handmaid's body. Mrs. Waterford's main remark for the day, she spat at her husband as the body was loaded, "what did you think was going to happen?" - following that, Nick attended to the Commander's Wife in the sitting room.
On entering, Mrs. Waterford just began with no formality or pleasantry. "Nick," she said without changing the pace of her knitting, "there's going to be an investigation. They want The Commander to attend down at the Guardians' centre - Angels will be there."
Nick thought that that was inevitable. This was the kind of thing High Commander Pryce had asked Blaine to report on - part of Pryce's pet project to 'clean up Gilead'. What had bothered Pryce was the ways in which his brothers, other Commanders, avoided accountability.
Like what Blaine was about to hear.
"The Commander," Mrs. Waterford said, "he wants you to go in his stead. You know what happened, you know what Rita had found." Mrs. Waterford put her knitting down to look Blaine straight in the face.
She said, "The Commander is going to rely on your discretion." She silently surveyed him, knowing that The Waterfords' fate was now in a driver's-hands. She continued, "we need you to help us move beyond this, quickly. This house needs a handmaid, this house needs children. This house needs to conform to Gilead standards in that regard. Commanders have to do their duties."
LATER, STILL A YEAR BEFORE THE EVENTS OF SEASON 1, T.H.T. - in NEW GILEAD
Nick sat in the Guardian reception area, the male secretary by the door had assured him that it would not be much longer.
After a fairly audible buzz, the secretary said to Nick, 'Okay, this is you. Just a head's up, this will be both Guardians and Angels." That made no difference, the third degree was the third degree, especially as perfected within Gilead security services.
However, any lingering butterflies Nick Blaine might have had, they fluttered away as the door opened and he saw…..
….. Ezra Shaw standing there with a big grin! Shaw said, "hey, lieutenant! I saw it was you! There couldn't be two jarheads with that name!"
After ninety minutes of reminiscing, what even The Angels had got into, Blaine announced that he was needed back at the Waterford's.
Shaw said, "Yeah, ok, but before you go, we need to ask something about the handmaid."
"What do you need to know?" Blaine responded.
"Was it a suicide? I mean, no evidence of anyone else involved?" Shaw asked.
"None. The martha, she found her. You can't fake that scream, the one I heard." Blaine looked at Shaw, "you know that, in those sorts of situations, you can't fake things like that."
Shaw looked at The Angel, said, "all true." Then Shaw said, "was The Commander, was he having illegal meetings with the Handmaid?"
Nick was far, far, too slow in answering.
So slow, that The Angel piped up, "Guardian Shaw, we've been over that. If we disciplined every Commander who drank a scotch with a handmaid in off hours, the whole Bilhah program would collapse."
It was The Angel who turned to Nick, he said, "you'd been the one - acting as a Guardian for High Commander Pryce - you'd been the arresting officer for Commander Guthrie, is that true?"
Nick said, "yes, that's true."
The Angel added, "for Guthrie, it had not just been the marthas, the real issue was he'd been skimming the transportation budget he managed, true?"
"True."
The Angel then turned to Shaw, "So unless you're claiming that Fred Waterford is stealing from Gilead, or interfering with a more, shall we say, 'political matter', then we can wrap this up."
Shaw said, "unless 'Guardian' Blaine has anything, I don't."
The Angel then said, "let's wrap this up then. It's just a handmaid."
DURING THE EVENTS OF SEASON FIVE, EPISODES ONE AND TWO
"Wow, you're a Commander now," Shaw said.
"Look, Ezra," Blaine said, "let's not stand on ceremony here." He smiled, "you know way way too much about me, for me to start lording it over you!"
"We've buried a lot of bodies, Nick. But Nick, I'm still going to call you 'sir'. Sir."
"Have it your way."
"So, 'sir', what's up?" Shaw asked.
"Your current billet. Forget about it." Nick looked at his old friend and said, "The New Gilead council, we're seconding you. Don't worry about the paperwork either. There won't be any."
"Sounds ominous. Where am I going?" Shaw asked.
"Canada."
"Canada!?" Shaw said, with obvious surprise. "Lieutenant Blaine, always the joker."
"I'm not joking, Ezra." With seriousness, Blaine added, "and I'm a Commander now."
"Okay, sir, you're a Commander." Shaw added, equally seriously, "what will I be doing in Canada, other than counting the days in a jail cell?"
"We've got properties in Toronto, properties that have not been expropriated by Canada. They're sitting empty. We also have assets in Canada, assets flying by the seat of their pants. We need you there," Blaine said. "We can get one guy the appropriate 'diplomatic' status, although that won't be it, not exactly. You can carry a weapon."
"You need muscle? In Canada? One guy?" Shaw asked.
"Look, I wish I had a whole regiment of guys like you. We would have taken Chicago. But for this work in Toronto, a regiment would be counter-productive it would last a week. But one guy….."
"Can I tell you what I would need?" Shaw said.
"You can tell me what you need," Blaine said.
Shaw smiled, "That's why I'd go to war with you any day of the week, sir. Me, I work for a living. You, you're an officer - and in your case, the rare gentleman. I'd go to war with you, because you understand that the only reason you rate the term 'sir' is because your sole existence is to give me the tools to do the job you ask of me." Shaw paused, then added, "sir."
"I'm here to give you the tools. Your job is to shoot me in the back of the head if you don't get everything you need," Blaine said.
The mission? Shaw was to report to a Canadian named Wheeler, at the Wheeler estate outside of Toronto. In the event of Mrs. Serena Joy Waterford either being released onto the street from prison in Toronto, or deported back to Gilead, Shaw was to shadow and protect her, reporting through Ryan Wheeler.
Also to adapt to operational changes as required. Typical field warfare stuff.
