14. Obvious Tactics and The End of The Rope
HEAR NO EVIL (14)
ONE YEAR AND NINE MONTHS AGO..
"-and her will so strong, all tremble in her path!"
"This ends today's broadcast of the Cross-Empire Channel"
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP
"Ug." Jake grunted and rolled over, squinting his eyes at the colored bars on the television.
Where the hell is that remote?
He followed the cord leading to the television to under the cushion. He yanked on the cord,
popping the remote free from the couch. "Thank you." Jake muttered as he ceased the CEC's
end of the broadcast torture.
Well, who ever said that being a commander was easy?
Apprehensive, he risked a look at his watch. Three AM. Which of course meant one hour and
thirty minutes until his Superior Officer's Training (SOT) class began for the day.
WYS's newest Co peeled himself off the couch and lightly padded up to his room. Zombie-like, he
opened his closet door and numbly rumaged for his new uniform. Now that he was future commander,
the Supply Clerk was more than happy to find him a uniform that actually fit for once. He had
to have it custom made, but "hey, nothing's too good for Big Jake."
Jake was shaken from his half-dead morning ritual by the sound of the front door shutting.
He quickly pulled out his baton from the top shelf of his dresser and peered around his doorway.
A shadow was slinking up the wall next to the stairs. Jake ducked back into his room, pressed
against the wall. Ready to swing.
A familiar shape passed Jake's bedroom door. Tom? What the hell was he doing coming home this
late?
PRESENT DAY
"No, he is NOT a puppy. He's a person!"
"So? People like nice clothes."
Cassie sighed and fell back on her bed. "We are not playing 'dress-up' with October Six."
Raising an eyebrow, Melissa tried an obvious tactic. "Did it occur to you that maybe he might
WANT more than just that grey uniform? It's almost . . . cruel to force him to wear the
same clothes every day . . ."
Cassie bit her lip at the word "cruel". In a way, Melissa was right. It WAS kinda selfish not
to get Ethan new clothes just because she hated the mall. She KNEW Melissa was only trying to
find entertainment for the day, but there WAS some merit to her argument.
Melissa smiled knowingly. Cassie was the kind of person who would swerve a car for a caterpillar.
Of course, that's what Melissa liked about her so much.
"If only you liked shopping, you'd be the perfect friend," Melissa said, shaking her head
mock sadly.
"Alright, how about this? We ask him. He says 'yes', we'll take him to the mall." Cassie
conceded, with extra scorn on the word "mall".
They traveled down to the barn and caught Ethan in the middle of moving hay bales. He grunted
and swung the fork up, the hay perfectly landing in a pile, ready to be bound. Noticing the
shadows against the far wall, he turned and leaned against the pitchfork. "Hey Cath, I fini-"
He stopped short, seeing Melissa there and bowed his head quickly. To be so familiar with his
master was unacceptable in society. He almost blew his cover.
Cassie cleared her throat, but Melissa spoke up first. "Hey, October? You wanna go shopping?"
With construction finished for the day, Rachel slumped down in her pallet and listened to the
other girls winding down. Jamie was finishing her nightly spiel of how great the Empire was.
She had this theory that all the barracks were bugged, so she never skipped an opportunity
to show just how "reformed" she was.
"If we all just accept our position in life, we can help the Empire to a glorious future. Well,
in our own small ways. After all, there's not much a woman can do except make her man happier
so HE can do better right?"
The first night of this, Rachel unleashed on her, but she had grown softer. Now, she was watching
the kid silently, almost protecting her. After all, Jamie was only ten. Rachel sort of saw her
as a younger sister.
The younger sister she never had. A family was only allowed two children and since her parents
had already spawned a daughter, they had "gotten rid" of her younger sister so as to not waste a
valuable slot for a son to fit into.
The newest girl, however, was having none of it.
"You f'n sellout." The grubby girl in the corner spat out. The room fell silent. Rachel slowly
raised from her "bed" and stared the young girl down. "What's your name, newbie?"
"Well, not that's any of your damn business, but I'm Dawn. Pleased to meet ya, tough girl."
Grubby-chick wasn't backing down.
"Ooooh. MIS-take!" One of the veterans yelled.
The others hushed her, not wanting to miss a second of precious entertainment.
"Well, DAWN. You've been here for about three hours. You know shit. In fact, you only know
the Cliff's Notes of shit. I suggest you lay low and not piss anyone off. Who knows? Maybe
you'll be the bitch of a nice, lonely General someday."
Dawn wavered a bit.
"You know that's where you're going right? There's only two ways out of this place: On the arm
of a soldier or at the end of a rope."
Grubby-chick scuffed her old battered sneakers against the dirt floor, making a little notch in
the ground. "I can take care of myself. If YOU were smart, you'd pay attention to me. I'm
going places-"
"Yeah, a casket."
Dawn shrugged. "Fine, be ignorant."
Rachel narrowed her eyes, carefully studying this rebel. There was a spark of life in her bright
green eyes. Something you didn't see much of in a camp. She might just be something useful.
"Take my advice, don't piss off the wrong people around here. You're not the only prisoner with
an 'agenda'. She raised an eyebrow at Dawn conspiratoraly, then retreated to her pallet, promising
herself to make nice-nice with the newbie.
She heard a scoff behind her back, then some rustling as Dawn returned to her place in the corner
and conversation resumed around the barracks.
We'll see how she pans out. Once everything is set in the construction site . . . Yes, we'll
show those bastards. She rambled to herself, half-asleep. Exausted from the day's "extra" work.
Who knows? Maybe we can get Jamie to come too . . . Then everything will-
Rachel was out for the night.
"Wow, I thought it took a long time for a GIRL to get dressed." Melissa sighed, tapping her
foot impatiently.
Cassie smiled. They had gone to her parents and used the "cruelty" line to get some money
for clothes shopping. However, mall management stopped them at the door, explaining that only
adults were allowed to have slaves in the plaza. So, Ethan was quickly guess-measured for sizes
and waited outside while Melissa dragged poor Cassie to every clothing store in the mall.
Her parents had only given her a pink slip for fifty dollars, but to Cassie's dismay, Melissa
offered to pitch in with her weekly slip when the cost got too high.
Which of course meant more shopping.
Now they were pacing outside of her bathroom, waiting for Ethan to finally-
Cassie gasped as the door opened and Ethan stepped through, shyly looking at his feet. He was
wearing a dark blue polo shirt, tucked in of course, a pair of khakis and a black belt. Cassie
instantly realized what took so long. He had cut his own hair while he was in the bathroom.
For a moment, he looked like any normal, shy kid. He didn't look like a slave at ALL. Especially
now that he had styled his hair so that one lock covered his scar. He must have been more self-
conscious about it then she thought.
With a wince, Cassie admitted to herself that she never really considered his feelings. What he
had been through. She had promised herself that she'd make him a part of the family, but had
done nothing to learn who he was since . . . since she asked where he was from . . . since they
had gone to pick up feed.
Melissa took Cassie abruptly out of her reverie with a pat on the back. "My GOD! We're brilliant!
He looks just like the Commander!"
Ethan looked off to the side for a moment.
Cassie's eyes widened. Yes, the haircut. Short on the sides, but longer on the top, with the
bangs off to one side. He looked exactly like Jake. Well, not as broad-shouldered maybe, but
just as big. If only he was normal-
Melissa finished her thought. "Wow, if he wasn't deaf, he could be the damn Commander." She
covered her mouth and looked around furtively. If someone heard her say that . . .
Also looking around for witnesses, Cassie grabbed Melissa's shoulder. "You're right. He looks . . .
normal."
During all this, Ethan was smiling quietly. Since he had seen the fight, which Cassie had explained
to him later, he had been facinated by the power the Warren commander held. The same age, same height,
same gender and according to the angry crowd, the same race too.
And yet, Jake had the control of one hundred, fifty seven young soldiers.
Ethan was under the command of one girl. A girl who seemed speechless now.
He wasn't bitter about it. Just . . . intrigued, maybe even curious. If he wasn't deaf, could he
have that perfect life? Would everyone look at him differently?
Would Cassie?