Chapter 38
That evening, it was time for Manchester's confidence vote. Newcomers didn't get to speak, but Grace knew her father was making a speech. He would have a few things to say. He was good with words and people, that's why Porter made him Weaver's Second in Command. If Manchester wasn't going to listen to his own people, maybe seeing Tom swoop in and inspire them would grab his attention.
Grace, Anne, and Matt took their seats opposite a podium with a microphone. She felt like she was in a school assembly, about to hear the principal drone on about the school's latest accomplishments. As the chairs began to fill up and people started crowding around, Grace noticed uncomfortably that Casey, Maggie, and the Beserkers were still absent.
"Any news?" she hissed to Hal as he thudded down into the creaky seat next to her.
He shook his head. "No joy. Dad tried talking to Manchester but no go. They're stuck down there for now."
Grace bit her tongue, annoyed. She understood the gravity of the Beserkers' crimes, but Maggie and Casey were innocent. Manchester was basically holding their people hostage.
The mumblings of the busy audience began to calm at the appearance of Charleston's leader, Arthur Manchester. From what Grace had heard, Manchester was strict and rigid, yet almost cowardly in the way he ran things. But here he was, smiling and waving to an audience who applauded him. He seemed comfortable and confident, speaking eloquently and respectfully as he thanked everyone for coming.
When Tom mentioned he was Manchester's student decades ago, she pictured someone ancient. Although he was bald with grey and white stubble framing his lips, he was certainly not ancient. In fact, he was still quite handsome, fit and smart, dressed in a grey suit and red and blue striped tie. He did have a principal-like quality to him (which made sense with his teacher background) but he also had a reassuring smile, deepening the laughter lines around his mouth and eyes and making the stern expression dissipate.
She supposed this calm and charming persona is what got him elected in the first place, but it was clear by the queue lining up for the podium that people had concerns they wanted to get off their chests.
There were all kinds of suggestions, from rearing livestock to finding a better source of toilet paper. People were really keen to speak, as if Manchester had not addressed any of their concerns personally, and this was their last ditch attempt to get him to listen.
Then it was Jeanne's turn. She nervously approached the podium and began her speech highlighting Manchester's lack of interest in her lost friends.
"So, as grateful as I am, I can't help thinking about the world around us…I have friends still out there - maybe lost or sick…And we're not doing anything about it, except waiting, hiding... hoping the aliens will go away.
I - I don't think you're a bad man, Doctor Manchester." She turned and looked him in the eye, which turned out to be her downfall. Seeing his steely expression seemed to derail her, as she began to stammer, unable to get her final remarks out to her captive audience.
"I… I… I just…"
"We just think you're wrong!"
Zoe appeared beside her, taking her hand and smiling supportively at her. Grace couldn't help but smirk at her friend's defiance, her heart swell with what felt like pride as Zoe came to Jeanne's rescue.
"Doctor Manchester, we know you think you're doing what's best for this place, but we don't feel heard," Zoe continued adamantly. "There are people who need our help and we have the resources to do that, so why are we ignoring them? Why are we hiding? And why are we being punished for speaking up?" She put a hand on her hip. "Frankly, that's very Gestapo of you." She flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Thanks for listening."
Grace and a few others stifled a snort at her final sentiment before breaking into a modest applause. The girls descended from the stage, still gripping hands. Weaver patted his daughter on the back while Grace looked over to see Manchester at the side of the stage, his expression passive. He didn't seem angry or offended, but he wasn't happy or understanding either. When he took the stage, he didn't address any of the issues raised, but praised everyone for their passion and commitment, before introducing his old friend and former student, "Hero of the Second Mass, Tom Mason."
The room exploded with applause (mostly from the Second Mass) as Tom took the stage. He smiled modestly at the crowd, thanked them for their warm welcome, and congratulated them on taking back a city left in ruins and turning it into a community again.
"I wish I could end there." His smile slowly faded and he inhaled deeply. "But the truth is, I'm still finding my footing. All I've known for the last year has been the Second Mass and the resistance. And so, as much as I admire what you've done, I can't help but to agree with Jeanne Weaver and Zoe Maddison and wonder if somehow our real mission has been lost."
Grace did the tiniest air punch, nodding along with her father's words. Yes. That was it. That was everything she felt. That was the truth.
Then, as the crowd began to murmur to each other, he took out a book and placed it on the podium, opening it onto a bookmarked page.
"I want to read you something that a friend of mine wrote about a different war:
'There were some who advocated accommodation, who believed the enemy would only be enraged by outright rebellion. But they were outnumbered by those who understood that freedom would only come once the enemy had been driven from their land.'
That was written by Arthur Manchester. About the American struggle against the British during our revolution. But he might as well have been writing about today."
Grace shared an open-mouthed look with Hal. Did their dad just school his own teacher? Damn, she was impressed. Now Manchester was beginning to look a little pissed as people in the crowd began calling out in agreement.
"I've met our enemy. I've seen what it's done to our children. I've looked in its eyes, and I've heard it speak. And I am telling you that these creatures will leave our world only when we force them to!"
More cheers. More hollering. Hell, people even began standing up and clapping.
"I know that I have to keep fighting. This community has to make its own call. But understand we can't hide from them anymore."
Grace loved when his voice got loud and determined like that. More people began to stand up and cheer, including herself. That was her dad up there, inspiring these engraved words of the Star-Spangled Banner on the wall behind him was the perfect complement to his speech:
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto—"In God is our Trust;"
And the star-spangled Banner in triumph shall wave,
O'er the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.
These people were brave, braver than they realised. They needed the chance to fight, and now they knew it. She had a feeling that they would listen to her dad. People always listened to the wise words of Tom Mason. They'd be foolish not to. Here he was, looking like a damn hero.
She was grinning from ear to ear, feeling hopeful again, when a panicked voice began surfacing through the cheers and applause.
"General Bressler! General Bressler!"
She squinted through the moving bodies, seeing Sergeant Wray pushing his way through the crowd towards the general, his usually handsome face filled with concern. He began spluttering something to Bressler, Manchester and Tom who had quickly approached to find out what the problem was.
She could only make out a couple of sentences amongst the commotion. Something about a de-harnessed boy found at the perimeter. Her heart jumped. She looked at Hal and they began pushing their way over. She clocked her dad's face. That look of dread and hope. They were all thinking the same thing, and what Miles said next only confirmed it.
"All he said was that he had been looking for Charleston…and that he has a message for Tom Mason."
He'd found them.
Ben. It had to be him. What other de-harnessed boy knew about Charleston? Please God let Ben have come home!
Her thoughts swirled around like this for the next twenty or so minutes while their dad disappeared into a room with Manchester, Bressler, Weaver and a slew of military men, all armed to the teeth for a potential standoff with her teenage brother. She sat, waiting in the atrium with Lourdes, Anne, and her brothers, hugging Matt in her nervously bouncing lap. At some point, Dai and Anthony joined them as the remaining Charlstonions gradually dispersed, confused and unnerved by the abrupt end to their meeting. Dai gave her a comforting smile, which worked - for a moment - and then she found herself staring at the clock again, watching the seconds tick by.
Her eye eventually caught Zoe and Jeanne on the other side of the concourse. Her foot got in a few more nervous taps before she sensed them approaching.
"Everything okay?" Zoe asked gently, glancing around the small congregation. "Is it Ben?"
"Not sure yet," Grace admitted as Matt suddenly leapt off of her lap, probably annoyed by her anxiously bouncing knee. He was getting a little big for that anyway, as the sudden absence of weight instantly made her feel better, like she'd been holding in a breath for too long and could finally release it. After a long pause, she focused back on Zoe and Jeanne who still appeared quite flustered themselves.
"That was really impressive what you did up there, by the way."
Jeanne's bright blue eyes sailed downward as her cheeks turned a fetching shade of pink. "I couldn't have done it without Zoe."
"You were doing great," beamed Zoe, squeezing Jeanne's arm. "I just added the cherry on top. Couldn't miss my chance to stick it to the man. Let's just hope the old coot listened."
"They're out!" Hal called to them, shortly followed by Tom and Weaver. No Ben. And their deep frowns told them it wasn't the news they had wanted to hear.
Everyone jumped out of their seats.
"What happened?"
"Where's Ben?"
"It wasn't him," explained Tom, clearly disappointed. "But this boy was sent by the leader of the skitter resistance. He wants to meet with us."
"Well then, let's go," said Anne from behind Grace.
"It's not that simple," Weaver told them through gritted teeth. "Manchester's refused to let us make the rendezvous. He's thrown the boy in lockup with the Beserkers."
Tom shook his head helplessly. "To make matters worse, now Manchester knows about Ben, I'm out of his good books. There's no way I'll convince him to change his mind now."
"So what's the plan?" asked Dai.
Tom took a deep breath, looking back at Weaver to confirm they were thinking the same thing.
"I think we need to plan a little jailbreak."
