SAY UNCLE

When inside, Kunaar noted that this study was more ornate than many. Gilead officially frowned on such unpious displays, but this Commander took control of his space by what he put on the walls.

This was a man who did not need to brag - his interior decoration was doing it for him.

Kunaar stood respectfully at the desk opposite the seated Commander. The man was leafing through a stack of files, putting them one by one into a drawer at his right as he closed each. Doing the math in his head, Kunaar noted that with the time that the Commander was spending with each, times the number left meant that it was going to be another 3 or four minutes. Just standing there.

Except that The Commander shortened it all by taking the last number in hand, put them into then shut the drawer.

He looked up, "Thanks for coming, Dhillon. How was the trip?"

"It was fine, sir."

Folding his hands on the desk in front of him, The Commander said, "Tell me, Dhillon, who do you think runs Gilead?"

Kunaar thought, 'Quite the civics question'. But he said, "I don't know what you mean, sir. The Commander's Chancery has sovereignty over their individual districts."

"Yes, yes, yes, and the D.C. Chancery is 'first among equals'."

Kunaar thought it was strange to have come all this way to be quizzed about this.

The Commander continued. "I'll tell you, the people who really run Gilead are the Aunts. Friggin' Aunts. We here in New Gilead are burdened with the friggin' Founder Aunts."

At that, the Commander rose, came around his desk, motioned Kunaar to sit on a couch at the unlit fireplace. He did not sit until the Commander had finished, he was pouring himself a drink. Very unpious to be drinking, and so very early in the day!

Kunaar waited to sit as the Commander sat, waiting for the big reveal. It must be something big to have driven all this way for the little that he'd found out so far.

"Hear me out, Dhillon," The Commander said, as if anything else was going to happen.

"I'm in a fight with Ardua Hall." Kunaar had to remind himself that Ardua Hall in New Gilead was where the Aunts were located, and where they ran the Bilhah-Handmaids program. The Commander continued, "For two months now, I've been trying to arrange a marriage for my eldest boy. It's not every day that a simple marriage blows up in a Commander's face. Me, I can pick up that phone and have a detachment of Guardians here in five minutes. But I can't marry off my boy without the friggin' Aunts interfering."

Not knowing what else to say, Kunaar said, "I'm sorry to hear that, sir."

The Commander drained half his drink before setting it down. He continued, "Which doesn't answer the question you might have."

"Sir?"

".….. and that's, 'what are you doing here'?"

All Kunaar could think of saying was to repeat, "Sir?"

"Ok, Dhillon, let me get to it. I need you to be the body-man for my idiot son, when he goes to Nashville to their engineering school. In two weeks." Kunaar just sat there, wondering if he was brave enough to ask for a drink himself, even at this early hour.

Kunaar knew how it worked. He could appeal to his current billet in the Eastern District. But that, apparently, could change in a blink. A New Gilead Commander's blink. It may have already.

"I'll tell you why it has to be you, Kunaar," the Commander said.

"Turns out, you're his uncle."

IT'S HARD TO LEAVE WHEN YOU CAN'T FIND THE DOOR - IT'S HARD TO TALK WITH YOUR MOUTH ON THE FLOOR

Talk about not having had time to prepare. Kunaar tried to keep his poker face.

Kunaar was later to find out that that was not strictly true. More like a cousin. But in the study, Kunaar's mind was not there.

Kunaar uttered a sharp, "What!?"

"You see, Kunaar," The Commander continued, "those damned Aunts keep files. The only friggin' women in Gilead who do anything with pen and paper, or with a keyboard."

"Don't take this personally, Dhillon, but in the New Gilead district, that makes my idiot son a Child of Ham. By policy, he should be sent out West."

Kunaar's mind finally got into gear, he asked, "With respect, sir, this is your son, no relation to me."

"That's what I told that shrew, Aunt Lydia. The Aunts' files say that your dad's younger sister, Priya, was a martha in our household some years ago. I told her that once her son was born, she could remain but that we'd raise him as if our own. But Priya was nothing but trouble. We sent her out West when the boy had been about six or eight. I wanted him sent with her, but my Wife would have nothing of it."

He picked up his drink, gulped down the last, and sighed, "women!"

"Long story short," the Commander continued, "this past year I've been trying to arrange a marriage for him. Aunts keep interfering. Our whole household - again, don't take this personally Dhillon - our house is about to be labeled Ham-sympathizers. I can't have that."

COOLING ONE'S HEELS

Kunaar thought that it was a bit of a treat to spend the next week housed at the Guardians main barracks. In New Gilead, the Guardians had all the toys. Kunaar asked and was able to sit in on a few exercises, just to see how they did things there. Those Guardians knew their stuff.

On that other front, being in Boston was good for the family business back in Syracuse. Kunaar had clearance, mobility and time on his hands. It was that week where his brothers back home had sent the wrong truck to pick up a 'shipment' of Handmaids. They'd not accounted for children being with them.

Kunaar was able to scope out the situation in situ from the safe house, he got his brothers to send a different truck, decked out for kids. He then had to arrange legitimate cargo for the first truck! Kunaar always thought it was a strange way to put it, 'decked out for kids', because the real issue was what was beneath the deck!

Kunaar had also asked his brothers and sisters back home to ask mom, delicately, about any sister dad might have had. A sister named Priya. So far he had no answer.

Kunaar's final morning at the barracks, his colleagues gave him a send-off worthy of his hero status. They'd all had a good laugh at his expense. Given him a final toast over breakfast and orange juice. One of his new buddies called for quiet, raised a glass of o.j., "Here's to Kunaar, got his ass shot off out West. Finished first at the Academy. And his reward? BABYSITTING!"

At that everyone had a good laugh, and downed their drink with a hearty, "Here's to Kunaar!"

BUT HE'S MY IDIOT

A week later, Kunaar was back in The Commander's office, all ready to head out to Nashville.

"The bottom line, Dhillon, the Aunts are not going to sign off on a marriage where only one is a Child of Ham. Not that you are, but the Aunts think my son is. My colleagues at Chancery are starting to ask questions." The Commander continued, "I want you to know, Dhillon, that I'm not like that. I raised the kid, for mercy's sake. If he's an idiot, that's on me. But it's just better for everyone concerned that he go away. To school, I mean."

The Commander stopped and looked Kunaar over. Finally he said, "Say, Dhillon, what do you think of the wheels?"

"That's a nice SUV, sir," Kunaar said. "The Eastern District have old models."

"Well, I hope you don't stick out too badly in the East Central District. That's a whole different world down there." Pausing, he finished, "And when this is over, Dhillon, I'd like you to consider joining our household security. I'd like that. You even look like Priya."

The Commander looked out the window, said, "Ok, there he is. Here's the keys. Here're the documents you'll need. Look them over, you know this stuff better than me. Let me know if anything is missing. Bring the SUV back in one piece, ok? They're loading his stuff in the back. My Wife is out there blubbering like she birthed the boy. Let's go out to meet him, see what you think."

"He's an idiot, but he is part of this house. He's my idiot, he's what's left of Priya. Let's go."