IN THE FIELD

I knocked on his door, and heard his voice beckoning me in. I opened the door as he got up from behind his desk and came toward me. I closed the door behind me, and he pointed to the couches which faced each other near the fireplace. I stood respectfully at the couch, determined not to sit. But he was having none of it. I sat.

He asked if I wanted a 'night-cap'. I declined. He poured himself one, then took the seat on the couch opposite.

He just got into it. "Jefferys, what do you know about me?" I asked him what he meant.

He said, "Not many of us commanders have experience doing what we do, you and I." He went on at length, saying that not many Commanders had the field experience he'd had - in the Chicago campaigns particularly. Both in the days immediately following the Second Great Revolution, as well as just before I'd been trafficked.

So I said, hoping he wouldn't think me obsequious: "You're known as a military sort, really, sir. I think that's why you and I get on so well. I like working for you. There's not a lot of guess work."

He said, "Ya, I like it, too."

Wondering if I was reading this room wrong, I risked, "You shouldn't have gone into that hotel, sir. Speaking from purely a security rationale, of course."

Blaine simply repeated, "Of course."

Maybe I was reading the room wrong. I couldn't interpret the silence

But he saved it, saying, "It's a whorehouse. You know it, I know it. It should never have been opened. Not that it's your business, Jefferys, but I've never used it. Not for that, at least." He took a sip, then continued, "In my day I spent half my time as a Guardian/driver in the kitchen there. My Commander was, shall we say, incautious when it came to his visits there. He'd called it a 'Commander's perk'. I counseled many times that he not go there." He then smiled, "As you'll probably eventually find out, we Commanders rarely listen to Guardian's expert opinion."

All of which sounded strange, given that he and I had just returned from there this afternoon. So me, risking again, said, "And you, sir? If not that, why go there?"

He added, "Not that it's any of your business….." to which I hurriedly repeated, "….. not that it's any of my business."

But he continued nonetheless. "Gilead is a righteous State, and everyone within is to be judged accordingly, even Commanders. I take it that you had served Gilead well during your live-fire exercise at the Academy. You'd correctly and quickly - record time from what I hear - discerned that the danger had been the Commander himself, not the Wife not the martha."

I paused, then said, "Yes, that was a surprise, but I remembered I was primarily to do my duty. For God and Gilead."

He added, "All that in 0.89 seconds." I corrected him. It had been .85 seconds. I was worried I'd be seen as obsequious, and he was a walking file-folder on my time in the Academy.

"If we're going to work well together, Jefferys," he began sternly, "you're going to need to offer confidential protection, perhaps beyond your own comfort level - most certainly beyond what you were taught at the Academy. It's the difference between seeing things in places like the Chancery, from what real life is like out in the field."

I was surprised, not knowing the lay of this land, whatever 'this' was: "I don't know what you mean, sir." I was afraid he was about to tell me something I'd have to act on.

"Jefferys," he said looking straight at me, "Referees enforce the rule book. But they also manage the game, which is a different enterprise." He paused, "It's the difference between regular duty, and being in the field. I go to Jezebels frequently. Back in the day when my Commander was upstairs with unauthorized contact with women, I was camped downstairs in the kitchen. It's where me and my current martha met."

Why would someone be in the kitchen, when the temptations of the flesh were upstairs? It occurred to me that Commander Blaine might not be being particularly honest.

But I reserved my judgment by saying, "Sir, I understand that my place is to work with my Commander."

"Good answer, good answer." He then paused and said, "My job with my Commander was even more complex. Officially I was a driver. Lived over his garage, like you do. Spent way too much time shining and vacuuming the SUV. But I had Guardian training and had been recruited by The Eyes of God."

Holy Word of God! I really needed to reserve my judgement and step carefully. So I just let him continue.

"This is probably ancient history for a young guy like you, but have you ever heard of Commander Waterford?"

I sat up, "Of course. In Canada part of their anti-Gilead campaigns were continual fabrications surrounding his trials. His Wife's too." They had eventually murdered him, and it was we who were called unrighteous!

Blaine said, "Well, he was my Commander. I was sent to Chicago just before he'd foolishly traveled to Canada to get his child back."

I said, "That's not how Gilead sees it, sir. The Canadians and Americans conspired with the criminal martha, Rita, to kidnap the Waterford's, their child, traffic in children including me, and then take both Waterford as well as a D.C. Commander for their own propaganda purposes."

He said, "Yes, that's what we say. But Jefferys, I was there."

"Sir, with due respect, what's this got to do with the hotel?"

He leaned forward and put down his drink. "I've found that I can do my job better, if I stay on top of what's happening at Jezebels. It's like being in the field. I'll say one thing, Jefferys - and to be honest I don't care if you believe me. I've never, not once, succumbed to the flesh there. I mention that I'd once been an Eye of God only to say that one serves Gilead best when one knows what's going on."

"It's where I recruited Beth from," he finished.

He then stood, so so did I. "I think that's about it. That's all I wanted to tell you." I followed him to his door. He said, "Look, I've been in your shoes." He smiled and added, "Although it's hard to think of myself as green as you!"

When he opened his door to show me out he concluded, "but I wish that my Commander, Commander Waterford, had taken me into his confidence more. Then again, maybe it was the age - so long ago. There're so few of the original Sons of Jacob still around. We're all second-, and some third generation. We've inherited a sacred vessel in Gilead, and it's up to the likes of you and me to preserve it. Agreed?"

I went through the door and said from the outside, "Agreed." I then went outside to do my final rounds in preparing to turn in. The security on the street would be on duty after midnight, and I would then leave things to them.

ANGEL'S FLIGHT ANNIVERSARY

I was driving Commander Blaine to the Chancery for the daily meeting. I hadn't slept that night, and was successful in stifling yawns in the SUV.

Commander Blaine was good, though, in getting people's attention. With me he said from the backseat, "Hey Jeffreys, your story made the Toronto newspapers yesterday."

It had? "Propaganda and lies, Commander, propaganda and lies."

He said, "It was quite extensive. Some sort of anniversary to do with child trafficking, which they refer to as a rescue. Plenty of, 'Where are they now?' stories, yours included."

Really? I was curious. As mentioned, as we grew up in Toronto, we tried to keep up with each other, we tried to follow each other through the various foster-parent situations we'd been forced into.

"You remember Rebecca, Jeffreys - of the Lexington-martha scenario at the Academy fame? Kiki?"

"Of course sir."

Blaine summarized, "She's convinced the Canadian government, as well as the American government-in-exile to up their funding for them. So says the piece."

I said, "Sir, my view is that that is the way the unrighteous buy support. It keeps their propaganda well oiled. Of those of us trafficked, I was maybe the only one to grow out of the lies they fabricated about our way of life."

"That's almost an exact quote, Jefferys, one that appeared about you in the piece," Blaine said.

"I'd like to read it, sir. With your permission of course."

Blaine said, "Most certainly. When we get home tonight I'll make sure you get a copy."

Watching him through the rear-view mirror, he sat silently while looking out to the city which his group of Commanders had inherited.

Without looking back at me in front of him, he said, "There's personal stuff about your family, too. I have no idea where they would get such detail. But I thought I would let you know what they were saying - before you read it for yourself, that is."

"Personal stuff, sir?"

He said, "Yes, personal stuff. It was after I'd been sent to Chicago way back when, and after your trafficking. The piece in Toronto claims that your household had been salvaged as a whole. Because of your father's alleged sedition against Gilead."

I thought nothing of it. "Of course they would say that, sir. With respect, you've not lived in Canada. They play with your head. Fill you with fake news, so that you don't know what is what. They adore apostates like Kiki."

"Yes," Blaine said, as we pulled through the security gate at the Chancery building. "So it would seem. "Anyway, I didn't want it to blindside you when you read it for yourself."

"I appreciate that, sir." Blaine got out of the back on his own. It bugged me when he did that, but he was the Commander. I drove over to the Commanders' vehicle pool, parked. Gassed up. One of my buddies from the Academy came over and we lifted the hood on Blaine's SUV. We tweeked a few things. We then looked over at his Commander's SUV - more heavily armoured than Blaine's. And worse gas mileage as a result.