I have to admit, I am weak at short stories. So I am working on getting better at them. I don't have a lot of time so I have set myself a rather low goal. A page a day on a short story.
“They are saying aliens landed again,” the woman said, as if aliens were a day to day occurrence. I took a closer look at the magazine I had handed her and discovered it was one of the cheap tabloids they sold in supermarkets. She was reading it seriously enough that I knew better then to make a dismissing remark. The problem with buses is that you’re stuck next to whomever and you can’t make a quick escape if you start an argument. It’s better to make polite conversation and not express an opinion about anything they say.
“Where are they supposed to have landed?” I asked, trying to keep the cynicism out of my voice.
“Nevada, they usually seem to land there. I wonder if it’s somehow like their home planet, wherever that is. Don’t you think it would be fun to be kidnapped by aliens?” The woman asked me earnestly.
“Well I’m sure it would make me very famous,” I commented, not sure what else to say.
“Oh no, because it all gets hushed up, you wouldn’t be allowed to tell anyone. But I still think it would feel good to have that knowledge that you had been chosen and had done something special. You know, that you were different.” I had grown up feeling I was different because of the whole sneezing thing, so this time I really didn’t have anything to say, so we lasted the rest of the ride in silence.
I got off in front of my apartment building, and so did the woman who had been sitting next to me. Usually I don’t think much about the people who get off at my complex, because it’s a big series of buildings, but this woman had stood out to me so I was surprised. If it had been a sensibly dressed business man I think I wouldn’t have looked twice, or a woman with her children, but to have this strange woman live so close to me made me look at least four times.
I sneezed on a Saturday the week after that. That wasn’t so bad, at least that meant that good things would happen on Sunday, though like I said I try not to tinker with my life through sneezing. If I had to sneeze though, Saturday was my favorite day to. I have to admit that I even fell asleep with a vague feeling of anticipation to see what good would happen to me on Sunday.
I went to church on Sunday morning, like I usually do. Nothing happened during the service but at the beginning of the service the preacher announced that he would like to announce the addition of a new member of the congregation. It was the woman who I had seen on the bus, standing there in the front of the church and saying her greetings to the congregation. Bethany Holts, the preacher had said her name was. Even worse, she decided to sit in my pew. As we filed out of the church after worship I had the added unpleasant surprise that Bethany had also walked, and since we lived in the same building we were walking together whether I liked it or not.
“I think I like the preacher a lot better then my old one. My old one was too old fashioned and fire and brimstone,” Bethany commented, one of the first sane things I had ever heard her say.
“I think you’ll like it at this church, it’s very modern. Some of the older people left for just that reason but I find it refreshing,” I told her. Now that she was talking like a normal person again I was able to remember what I had first noticed about her, she was very pretty. I quickly dismissed that thought, relationships don’t go well when your whole life changes every time you sneeze.
If you dare to tell someone that your life is governed by a nursery rhyme they look at you kind of odd and then ask if you’re on some sort of illegal substance, so I don’t tell people things like that anymore. Just because I don’t talk about it doesn’t make it any less true though. And of all of the nursery rhymes to be forced to live by it would have to be the most ridiculous one of course. It all has to do with sneezing, when your sneezing determines what happens in your life you have a very sad life indeed.
When I was little, and my mother and I figured out what was going on, though it took a very long to do it, she put the nursery rhyme to a tune, so I could remember it better. If you’re life is going to be governed by anything then it’s a very good idea indeed to know what it is and remember it. I still find myself humming it while I’m going down the street sometimes, or headed to work. Sneeze on Monday, sneeze for danger. Sneeze on Tuesday, kiss a stranger. Sneeze on Wednesday, sneeze for a letter. Sneeze on Thursday, something better. Sneeze on Friday, sneeze for sorrow. Sneeze on a Saturday, joy tomorrow. Most of the time I just try not to sneeze no matter what day it is, it makes things easier, even the days when good things happen when I sneeze make me feel uncomfortable. I feel like I’m toying with fate.
You might not think that my affliction, that is how I think of it, would affect my day to day life, but it does. Some of the results that occur when I sneeze weren’t very well defined you see. Such as Wednesday’s sneeze for a letter, what the rhyme doesn’t say is if the letter is good news, bad news or just idle chitchat. I have had all three types. This affliction also means that colds, the flu, and allergies are more dreaded to me I suspect then anyone else on earth. My medicine cabinet at home is filled with every remedy you can imagine for all of the ailments mentioned.
Having explained all of this to you, you can imagine how upset I was when I sneezed while waiting for the bus, going home from work. It had to have been the cold weather, I’m usually so careful about things like that. I honestly swore, I know that most people would consider that an over reaction to a sneeze but I’m sure you understand. I was even more upset because today was a Tuesday, and kissing total strangers is always awkward. No matter how much a avoid it fate always finds a way to make it happen. It isn’t like I feel my lips gravitate to the nearest stranger I meet; there is always a logical explanation for it happening. It wasn’t so bad when I was a little kid, little kids can get away with almost anything, but it did make my adolescence hell.
I was whistling along with a song I had on my headset, but I instantly stopped when I realized what I was doing. I had just sneezed, the puckered lips of a whistle were just asking for trouble. I knew it was inevitable that I kiss a stranger but I didn’t want it to be in such a public place as a bus for sure. There was a pretty young woman sitting next to me, which made me even more nervous.
“Could I ask you to hand me that?” the woman asked me. I looked over at her, and she pointed at a magazine in the aisle. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I had dropped it until just now.” I nodded and stood to reach and get it, just as an old woman was walking down the aisle to find a seat. To my great embarrassment I bumped into her and pecked her right on the cheek. Of course I apologized a lot, and wanted to sink into the floor but the old woman told me really it was alright, and it seemed stupid to get off the bus for such a little thing. I sat back in my seat and handed the woman her magazine. She acted like nothing had happened, which I appreciated.
“You swear he’s nothing but a foot solder?” the major asked. Liz seemed to consider this for a moment and then shrugged.
“No.”
“She’s honest, and won’t swear anything that isn’t true. I’ll swear for her,” John said smiling. He was blowing his cover completely he knew, but it was fun and that counted a lot for the spies.
“So you’re telling me that you’re a liar then?” the major asked.
“Cut the chitchat. I’m serious about the throat cutting,” Liz cut in. “Does keeping John, no matter who he is, amount to your life?” The major looked at Liz up and down and then shook his head. Liz took the knife she had been threatening the major with and used it to cut John free.
“Expect a flag of truce around daybreak tomorrow. Now that we have given you the chance to see what we could do to you, we thought you might be interested in surrendering,” Liz told the major. “If you are you can step forward and negotiate, we’ll give you good terms. If you don’t step forward then John will be back with more explosives, and this time he won’t let himself get caught. Tom found out that you intentionally got yourself caught by the way John, he wants a word with you.”
“Can we not talk about internal problems in front of the enemy?” John asked, uncomfortable. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Good idea, I will say this much though, you are so in for it. Frendral, Tom, Kerma, they’re all going to be on your case tonight.” The two of them left the tent and headed in the direction of Ferndale, with a large crowd coming from all directions to join them. Frendral and Kerma had been forced to admit that while he hadn’t been following their plain he had done everything in the name of Ferndale and therefore had been willing to use Ferndale troops to free him.
That night the major paced his tent well into the wee hours of the morning, he found that he couldn’t sleep. He had the repeated image of the fiery explosion that had heralded in John. It had been one of the most frightening experiences of his life, the attack of the unknown. That such an attack could be intentionally aimed at his troops with in the next couple of days seemed nightmarish. However he had no idea how he would explain it to his superiors. They had probably never seen an explosion; he could be the laughing stock of the army, from people who had never seen what he had.
The major had only just gotten to bed when there was a timid tap on his tent. He got back up and admitted the sentry, a boy about half of the age of the rebels of Ferndale. Once again the major found himself wondering why it was that everyone thought of the people of Ferndale as being kids.
“There’s a flag of truce from Ferndale,” the boy said, his voice hadn’t even changed yet and he was acting a sentry the major thought. Suddenly he had an image of the boy being blown into the air by an explosion and shuddered. Surrender it was, definitely, who cared what anyone said about him. They didn’t know any better.
“We’re at war and you weren’t trying to kill people? You could have done a lot of damage with that, what ever it was,” the major pointed out. “It could have won you the war.”
“There are other explosions to create, if you don’t take us seriously,” John said shrugging. “That one was, like I told you at first, just a warning.” He had now completed his mission, he had told the major that they had missed hitting his men on purpose, plus he had gotten a good look around the camp and now had much more information on the way that the guard was set up and everything then Ferndale had had before. It helped that the guards had gossiped while they had watched the entrance of the tent that he was held in.
“See, that’s the thing, I can’t imagine someone of your strength and obvious power, not matter how much you deny it, willing go off on a dangerous mission that was only supposed to be a warning. It seems far more likely to me that something went wrong and you’re trying to hide that you messed up,” the major said. Before John could protest, to the surprise of both of them someone dressed all in black walked right into the tent.
“Liz?” John asked with surprise. He had seen his partner’s injury before he left but he hadn’t considered that during the time that he had been captured she had probably healed enough to be back on duty.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” the major demanded. There had been a guard posted outside of the door so that John couldn’t escape and here was someone just walking in like they owned the place.
“I’m a friend of his. Sorry it took me so long to come and get you John; Larlarn had to have a word with some of the guards.” John flinched outwardly, Larlarn was the fighter out of the spies, and if she had had a word with anyone then they probably wouldn’t be up for a while. In a group that usually talked its way out of trouble or ran away Larlarn was truly unique.
“What do you mean pick him up, we don’t just hand over our prisoners,” the major sounded angry.
“I think you might have to,” Liz said, her voice soothing. “I’m afraid we have rather a lot of our people around this tent at the moment and most of them are dressed like your own soldiers so people won’t get suspicious. We’ve been keeping an eye on how you have been treating John and we aren’t very happy with it. In fact there are some people outside who would like to meet you, so you can give up our lowly foot soldier here, or you could go talk with the people outside.”
“This sounds more like a gangster job then an army job the way you’re talking,” the major complained, unmoved. “All I have to do is shout and you will have a whole army attacking your group.”
“Is that worth your life? The life of one foot soldier against your life, you make the decision because I swear that if you shout any sort of warning at all I will cut your throat before we fight our way out.” Just like all of the other spies, and indeed most of the other citizens of Ferndale, Liz carried a knife at all times. She drew hers and even John found himself wondering if she was serious or bluffing. He knew, having been her partner for a very long time, that she was usually a gentle sort, but then again this was a time of war and the enemy leader was right in front of her. She looked dead serious anyway, that was what mattered.
“Did anyone die in the explosion?” John asked. If the major wasn’t going to try anything interesting he was going to satisfy his own curiosity.
“Your badly planed attack failed, not one of my men died,” the major boasted, though he was a little unnerved to see John look happier to hear it.
“What about injuries?” John asked.
“One or two, nothing serious,” the major tried again. No one he knew who would risk their life to attack the enemy like this man in front of him had done would be happy to hear they had caused no injury but now he was almost beaming.
“Then I have fulfilled my mission,” John said happily. He added mentally, well at least the part assigned to me by the rulers, which is what really counts.
“Your mission was to blow up a lot of sand?” the major asked.
“That’s about right. I am only supposed to be a warning to you, telling you what we have. If you won’t back away from the city then we will be forced to use the attack I demonstrated against your actual men. It would be inhuman, and our rulers feel in blood thirsty, but they are already preparing another person to follow after me if anything else happens,” John explained. “I did exactly what I was sent to do.”
“Was that worth your life?” the major asked. John looked him in the eye and didn’t yield, though he could feel just the tiniest hints of doubt entering around the edges of his mind. John was as much a pacifist as the rest of Ferndale but he was getting the vague feeling that he would rather die killing then threatening to kill.
“Would you kill someone because they blew up sand?” John asked. Even if he was doubtful he would never let the major see that, it wouldn’t be professional.
“I am supposed to take you at your word that that’s what you were trying for?” the major asked.
“I don’t know whose word you’re supposed to take, unless you feel like walking up to the city walls and asking them if they meant to do that. I somehow think that someone would drop a large rock on you before you got up to the wall.” The major stared at John uncomprehending for a second and then called for him to be taken away.
Being questioned by the major hadn’t been unpleasant, or dull, but what came next was. John was stripped of his nice black clothing, like all the spies he had warn the finest cloth that Ferndale had to offer, and it was replaced with whatever random rags they could find. They seemed to feel that having a prisoner be better dressed then they were was an insult to the natural order. John had the feeling that if the enemy had a dungeon he would have been thrown into it. As it was they did the best they could with tents and army food, which was only slightly better then bread and water. The siege had gone on for some time and the farmers didn’t give the army the best food available. The best food available, even for all of the money that the underground cities paid the farmers, went to Ferndale. Farmers were never stopped, even if the city they were entering was under siege, if you insulted the farmers, you didn’t eat. Ferndale was in luck, the farmers sided with them.
John continued to be tied up through the next few days. He started to wonder what the other spies were doing, whether they would come and save him or let him rot. He could imagine Tom beside himself with anger at John for getting caught and that was an image that got John through a lot. Tom would be angry with him certainly, but it would be the anger that was filled with relief that he was alright. John was sure that he would never tell Tom that he had gotten caught on purpose.
John knew enough about the tactics of interrogation to know that he was being allowed to simmer and consider what his fate was going to be. None of the spies had received formal training to combat such tactics, but that was because Tom had total confidence in his employees, which was the best training any of the spies could have had. Not one of them was willing to let Tom down.
It was a much more disheveled and thin John who was once again taken in front of the major, his attitude hadn’t shrunk however. It was generally suspected that attitude was one of the things that Tom looked for when choosing a spy, and John as his second in command, had more then his fair share of it. There wasn’t a single spy who didn’t wear attitude like a suit of armor and John was fully ready to take advantage of this, now that his confidence was waning with time. He had had far too much time to think to stay certain that he was going to be fine, far too much time alone to think about everything that could happen to him. Attitude was the only thing that he had left.
“What do you want?” was the first thing John said, once he was alone once more with the major.
“Is that a position for you to take? By now I’m sure you have realized that I hold your life in my hands. You have been fed so far but if you annoy me I might change that.”
“Go ahead, but if you want to kill me I’d rather you do it outright,” John said, feigning indifference. He wasn’t about to give the major any leverage to use against him.
“How old are you?” asked the major, changing tactics.
“Twenty-two,” John said, honestly. He didn’t understand the question but it wasn’t delicate information that should be hidden from the enemy.
“And at your age you’re so dedicated to your city,” the major said, shaking his head and straddling the back of his chair so he was facing John. John had the feeling that the formality of the situation was temporarily suspended and tried to relax as well, as best as he could while still bound hand and foot. “You know, I wish we had soldiers half as good as you,” the major continued.
“You’re from Yose right?” John asked. “Well then you have at least one loyal soldier, he stabbed me in the last war. You should see the scar on my arm. It isn’t every man who would betray his friends to go back to his home. You should be proud.”
“What’s his name?” the Major asked but John shook his head. Ivor was delicate information; he didn’t want someone who knew that much about Ferndale back on the front lines. After the last war they had spent a lot of time threatening Ivor until he understood that his life would be forfeit if he joined the Yose army again. He would hate for Ivor to be tempted by a personal invitation from a major.
“So good at knowing how to keep your mouth shut as well. Are you really a foot soldier? You don’t act like one,” the major commented. “You act like an officer and that would be ridiculous at your age in the underground armies but you aren’t in the underground army. I’ve seen people my daughter’s age wearing officer’s uniforms on your walls.”
“You don’t really expect me to answer questions like that do you?” John asked, and he actually found himself smiling. “I am no one really important if that’s what you’re asking. I was disposable enough to be allowed to volunteer for this job, that’s enough. And no matter what you think, I was ordered not to kill anyone with that explosion and I didn’t want to, so I’m not really dangerous either.”
The army was already on the march by the time that John had gotten close to them, not that it mattered, not to his purposes. He wasn’t to kill anyone, John repeated to himself, though he was smart enough to know that it could happen despite their intentions. He was also smart enough to know that if this didn’t work the next time he was sent out he might have orders to kill, it wasn’t a pleasant thought. He couldn’t mess up, John assured himself, that was all that that meant.
John was actually more comfortable with the army being on the march already; it meant that he would be less likely to catch them in the explosion by accident. It was the next part of the plan, the part that Sam hadn’t talked about with the rulers that was now worrying John, the part where he would let himself get captured. Kerma and Frendral would never allow such a plan to go into implementation, they were too protective. That meant that a lot of things had to be done behind their backs, like some of the planning between the other city leaders.
The explosives were now buried in the sand and John was already a good way off when the fuse finally reached what ever it was that the farmers put in their little packages. The effect was immediate, and impressive, sand went everywhere. Even if the army wasn’t unnerved by the blast that happened right behind them, they wouldn’t be able to see the wall of Ferndale to attack it. Ferndale would be safe, at least for the moment. John breathed a sigh of relief, though the hardest part for him was yet to come.
The army came out of the dust and blowing sand coughing and choking, some of them John noticed guiltily had burns from the explosion, and others were blind from the sand. For a little while everyone was too busy with their misery to notice John sitting, pretending to nurse an ankle. The enemy would be suspicious if he stuck around with no excuse, and a sprained ankle was a good one. It couldn’t be found incorrect by the army doctors but it would give him a reason for not being able to run.
“Major, there’s someone over there,” said someone finally. John felt a release of tension, he had been worried up until this point but there was not point now, there was nothing for him to do. The die had been cast and now he just had to go with the roll. It was moments like this he realized just how much Tom’s thinking had invaded his own; everything was a game, except protecting Ferndale, which was very real. Ferndale had been protected, now it was time for the game, never mind that the game involved his life as a stake. He didn’t think he would be taken as a spy after that explosion, now he was just an enemy soldier who had carried out a dangerous mission, which lessened his chance of death but didn’t get rid of it completely.
John was starting to wonder if he was going to be given the chance to talk to any officer at all after a few hours. Rather then being dragged into the officer’s presence right away, instead he had just been tied up and thrown into a tent, under guard of course. Finally they came back for him and he literally was dragged in front of the major. The guard propped him into a chair, still well bound, and left him and the major alone.
“What was it that you used?” the major asked, turning to face John. “My men and I have never seen anything like that before and we’ve been through a lot.”
“I used a warning, the next time I was told to put that stuff under your feet. Other then that I couldn’t tell you what it was, I don’t know myself,” John lied. No one could lie like a captured spy. “I’m just one of the foot soldiers; dregs they don’t care get blown up. You’d have to ask one of my officers if you want to know details.”
“You’re loyal to a city that’s willing to use you like trash?” the major asked. John grinned to himself, the old angle of trying to turn someone against their cause; he showed the major a wavering face though.
John was the first on the scene, tribute to Kamashi’s run as well as his own. He was only slightly out of breath when he arrived; you didn’t survive long as a spy unless you could run at top speeds when required to.
“You really haven’t had a chance to know what you’re supposed to do, we were going to talk to you about this today,” Kerma told John guiltily. “But now is the perfect time to implement this plan so we’ll just have to go with it.”
“Alright, I think I know what you’re talking about, Sam told me some of it when he was planning it,” John said cheerfully. The spies were not known for being great planners so working without having any set guidelines except what Kerma and Frendral were able to briefly layout was something that John could handle easily.
“Here are the explosives,” Frendral said, handing John a bundle from a box at the foot of the wall.
“Are you sure you’re willing to do this?” Kerma asked. “I mean you could get yourself blown up if this goes wrong, it really is volunteer only.”
“I’ll be fine,” John assured her. “I’m not a stupid amateur who doesn’t know what they are doing; I can take care of myself.” Kerma was about to point out that John had no experience with bombs specifically but then stopped herself, there was no point. This was a war, they were all risking their lives, and John had volunteered, that was what mattered. What happened next was up to fate, Kerma decided, not her.
John slipped around the back of the wall. There was a way in and out of the city through a very well disguised gate. It looked exactly like a piece of the brick until it was open but even so they weren’t taking any chances of it being found. A guard was posted at all times next to the gate now that they were at way; they too had a warning bell. It might have been risky to have another gate but it was also useful, during the last war they had regretted not having any way out of their city while under siege so changes had been made. Those changes came with risk but the benefit, especially for the spies, was far greater then the danger.
John was forced to make a wide detour around the assembling enemy army. If they found him then all of their planning would be over, and he would probably be killed. In the last war the spies had had the idea that even if they were caught they might not be killed since they were still considered children. They were no longer considered children and it was a well known fact that when an underground city found an enemy spies they were killed. Usually they were questioned first and that was even worse, though John promised himself he wouldn’t talk, nothing was proven but there were rumors about the questioning methods used.
Coming up behind the advancing army would have been easier had John thought to grab one of the uniforms the spies had stolen from the enemy camp over time. They had a uniform for every single one of the underground cities, and their faces weren’t widely known so they could get away with such easy tactics. He had left Ferndale on such short notice though that he hadn’t managed to grab one. John was also starting to wish that the spies’ dress code was something other then black, which stood out sharply against the desert sand and was as hot as an oven.
“What do you want to do about Sam’s latest plan?” Kerma asked, wishing that she didn’t have to keep talking business, but it was important. Sweet nothings were very, very rarely exchanged between the couple. Kerma had given up on the idea of a truly romantic, romantic relationship, when she had realized that she had fallen in love with Frendral.
“I approve.”
“Good, so do I, I saw Tom bandaging up Liz, is she in condition to help or should we call out John?” Kerma asked.
“John’s better. Liz got stabbed with a letter opener.”
“Not exactly the injury that you think of happening in times of war. I can guess what happened though; she was stealing letters of someone or other and got caught. Whoever it was grabbed what was closest to use as a weapon, am I right?”
“It was a Lieutenant, other then that, you got it,” Frendral looked a little grim and Kerma knew why. Liz and John were a team that could cause endless trouble to any enemy and with one of them out because of an injury John wouldn’t be working as well as he could be. John and Liz had driven an entire squad to distraction with their antics only a few weeks before, they were masters of their work and important in any plans that were being hatched. Tom would have liked to do more field work personally but as the leader of the spies he had been told, until he had finally caved, that he really needed to keep his head attached to his shoulders. The enemy would be all too happy to kill Tom and everyone knew it.
“Look,” Frendral said, pointing down at the enemy army below them. At first the enemy had camped right below their walls, a sure sign of their lack of experience with walled cities, they had moved their camp out of throwing distance fairly quickly. Even from the distance that they now had to look at the enemy both Frendral and Kerma could see the army was moving into marching position, in the direction of their city.
“Another attack, you’d think they would learn that just attacking the wall won’t work. They aren’t going to wear it down,” Kerma commented.
“Lack of experience,” Frendral said, shrugging. Kerma nodded; if they had been in charge of the attack they would have tried tunneling or explosives. The underground cities knew nothing of explosives though, that was something that the people of Ferndale had learned from the farmers. Kerma thought about Sam’s latest plan, the underground cities would know about explosives fairly soon. It was a horrible, bloodthirsty idea, but it would drive the wind out of the sails of the enemy for sure this time. She just hoped there was no one she was related to down there.
Kerma stood up and rang the warning bell on their stretch of the wall. It was relayed around the entire wall, a system that made sure that no part of the city would be taken advantage of by the attack. Noe and Kamashi were on the wall before anyone else was; the messenger station was just at the base of the wall.
“Noe, go send off the flair so everyone knows it’s this part of the wall they’re attacking. Kamashi, go and get John, tell him we need him right away,” Kerma ordered. Kamashi took off at a dash, which is why Kerma had sent her on the truly urgent errand. Noe was too lazy to really be a messenger and the only reason they kept him employed was because he had always worked as a messenger for the rulers of Ferndale. Noe had left at what could be called best a leisurely saunter.
“I won my first school war without any practice,” Sam pointed out and Kerma had to admit that he had a point. Sam was able to adapt and see a way out of most military problems without effort. It was a tactical turn of mind that she had never actually asked how he had acquired.
Once Sam had left Kerma threw on her light shawl, for protection against sand and wind, and headed to the walls of the city. At one time the city had had a natural wall that had protected them very well. The city unfortunately had expanded over the years and they had been forced to build a new, man made wall, which even made a part of the desert their city. The founders of their city, simply known as The Queens, had been the most shocked about that. They had never imagined that they would ever claim desert as theirs.
The Queens had founded another city and moved on, a sister city to Ferndale, and another like it had been founded by the King of Ferndale’s brother. The cities formed a new nation, at least as far as they were concerned, though they had yet to get recognition from the underground cities. The farming communities above ground recognized the Triet, as the three cities called themselves as a unit, however and that had cause a lot of difficulties for the underground cities.
Frendral, King of Ferndale, as well as being Kerma’s boyfriend, was sitting on the wall when she got there. A couple of people were hovering around concerned and fussing, but Frendral was ignoring all of them. Kerma sat down next to them.
“You know, you two really shouldn’t be here,” Tom commented, but his tone was casual. He was sitting with his back to the parapet, bandaging the arm of one of his spies. “It’s fine for most of us but I bet a lot of the people down there would be willing to risk a lot to kill one or both of you. It’s a recognized tactic, killing the leaders.”
“If you guys would stop fussing around us no one would think we were important,” Kerma pointed out. “I don’t see any crown on our heads.”
“It’s our risk,” Frendral added.
“Why do you insist on sitting up where a random shot could hit you at any moment anyway?” Kerma asked, once they were alone. Even Tom had left to be about his business and it was one of the few times that they were truly alone to talk however they wanted.
“Why do you sit with me?” Frendral asked. Kerma blushed, they might be dating, and both would privately admit that they really loved each other, but putting it in words was something that neither could manage, making it a very awkward relationship at times. They didn’t even really have true dates since most of their time together was dinner over the paperwork involved with running a city.
“You do have a nice view here, I can see everything that the front lines of the enemy are doing from up here,” Kerma said. “Did Tom have any news about how the other two cities are doing?”
“Liz says they’re doing as well as we are, Daisy Hill is under attack, but other then some few minor scrimmages Willow Creek is being left alone. Both cities are holding out, striking out some at their attackers but nothing that might stretch them too far.” Kerma nodded. Willow Creek wasn’t as useless to the war effort as the enemy seemed to think. Willow Creek was the industrialized city, the one that made all of the weapons and supplies for the other two cities. Because they didn’t have to make any of their supplies Daisy Creek and Willow Hill were allowed to throw all of their citizens and energy into the all out battles that surrounded their walls.
Kerma looked over the battle plans Sam had given her to approve of and while she was at it looked over Ferndale’s abandoned ideals. Now that the war was fully engaged, for real this time, she was starting to realize how naive they had been. The first war they had had with the underground cities they had tried to have a bloodless war of the sort that went on in the school. Ferndale hadn’t been ready for serious adult warfare, and so they had lost. Two years and much planning later Ferndale had decided to try another bid of independence from the underground cities, and again they had been attacked because of it. This time Ferndale had known what to expect though.
This is war, it isn’t supposed to be nice, and it isn’t supposed to be fair, Kerma told herself as she looked over the placement of the siege machinery. That still seemed like cheating though, the underground cities, with their lack of heights or space had never seen siege weapons before. They hadn’t allowed siege weapons to be used the last time they had fought against the underground cities, and we lost, Kerma reminded herself again. If we had allowed them in the first war we would probably already be independent. There was a knock at the door and she answered it, it was Sam again.
“What do you say?” Sam asked, jerking his head at the battle plans. Soft spoken, stuttering, a slight man with sandy hair, Kerma was always amazed by how much his looks belayed his sharp, and sometimes vicious mind. Sam and his assistant Angel had come up with plans that even with Ferndale’s new outlook on warfare Frendral and Kerma had vetoed as being too vicious. Kerma didn’t envy Sam his job, and she often wondered how he slept at night, so many people’s lives weighed on him, both their own troops and the enemy’s.
“This looks good, we shouldn’t lose many people doing this and it will make them lose a lot of moral,” Kerma rolled up the map and handed it back to Sam. We shouldn’t lose a lot of people, she thought to herself. We didn’t lose anyone in the last war, because it wasn’t really a war, she reminded herself. We surrendered before it became a real war and ended up paying huge taxes as punishment for attempting rebellion. We don’t want that to happen again and all of our people agreed to a real war this time.
“The plan wouldn’t work at all if the enemy wasn’t being unusually stupid,” Sam told her, his soft voice had a scornful edge to it. Kerma smiled, so long as Sam was talking about the enemy being stupid they were safe, Sam was always honest about how he looked on the enemy. He was just as open about his praise as his scorn and the last time he had admired one of the underground generals they had lost a lot of people in the battle. They had captured the general alive and Sam insisted that the man be treated like royalty. As Frendral had pointed out it might be a good tactic because if the general ever managed to escape and tell his fellow generals the treatment he had received the enemy would be lining up to be captured. He had of course been being sarcastic but Sam had just shrugged it off, Sam wasn’t as sensitive as he looked by any means.
“I wouldn’t call them stupid exactly,” Kerma said, though she couldn’t say why she always defended everyone. “They just aren’t used to fighting aboveground like you are. They might not have been real wars exactly, I guess it isn’t a war unless someone dies, but you did get a lot of tactics practice here before we left the school.”
“This is the first time this has ever happened to me. I’ve always had peaceful runs but don’t worry, I’ll lose them. Yes, that’s a Tommy gun, don’t mess with it, it’s bad enough with things shooting at us from the outside, let alone the inside.”
“So little faith, besides, I told you to start with I wasn’t going to be holding any guns. Not my thing.”
Arthur looked back and could see their truck being followed by the car. The truck couldn’t move as fast, as encumbered with the trailer as it was. Up ahead were the lights of a farm house, he was going to have to make a decision.
“Can you hand me the gun and grab the wheel for me?” Arthur asked David grimly.
“Won’t that make me your getaway driver?” David asked uncertain for the first time since Arthur had known him.
“I hate to say this but it’s either that or get shot,” Arthur snapped. He wanted to protect his friend certainly, but not at the cost of their lives.
“I can’t drive,” David protested even as he climbed back into his seat holding the gun.
“Doesn’t matter, doesn’t take skill, just hold her steady,” Arthur snapped. It was too dark to see his friend’s face but he could hear the concern in David’s voice. Arthur took the Tommy and stuck his head out of the window. The car following them still hadn’t turned on their lights so it was only a brief shadow as it came through the pasture after them. That shadow was enough for Arthur to aim at though.
“That thing is louder then I expected,” commented David, now back to his normal self as Arthur fired the gun at their pursuers. David wasn’t doing a very good job of holding them steady, he was veering to the left, but that was fine by Arthur since it would mean they would miss the farm house. He wondered if David was doing it on purpose or if it was just chance.
“They aren’t stopping,” Arthur commented once he was out of ammunition. “I know I’m hitting them, but not enough to stop them.”
“Hard to sympathize with you about that when I know you’re trying to kill them,” David.
“I wouldn’t expect you to, this isn’t your thing,” Arthur told David. Behind him he could hear gunshots again; the car was firing on them. He reached to take the wheel back just as they lurched. It took Arthur a second to figure out what had happened, they had lost a tire. One of the bullets flying around them had to have hit one of the truck’s tires. He instantly hit the breaks, it would make them sitting ducks but it was better then loosing control of the truck.
“We’re going to die,” said David, still calm.
“There’s a real chance of that,” Arthur admitted, digging under the seats for more ammunition. He reloaded his guns and waited as the car crept up behind them, he guessed that they knew he wasn’t going to surrender without a fight. Especially since surrender probably meant death as well, that or being held hostage against his father, Arthur found himself wondering if he would be a valuable hostage or not. That counted a lot on his father’s feeling for him, something that he still wasn’t very sure about, even after all of these years working for him.
“Get back on the floor,” Arthur ordered David. “There’s going to be more shooting and people without guns should keep out of it.” Now that they were stopped Arthur could see David better. He could see David hesitate and then obey.
Guns opened up and for a second Arthur thought that the car that had been following them had opened fire prematurely to scare them. That didn’t make any sense though because it would damage the cargo and the cargo was what they were after. Instead he realized the shots were coming from a different direction. David had been blocking his view from the other window but now he realized they were not alone in the field, the shots were coming from cars driving down the road towards them at top speeds. Never in his life had Arthur been more relieved to see the police.
The car that had chased them into the field turned off, almost close enough that they brushed sides, and took off in the opposite direction. Arthur looked towards the farm house with its lights still on. Of course the owners of the house had probably heard them shooting even before they turned into the pasture, they must have a telephone.
“The cops, might as well get up,” Arthur told David.
“You’re not going to shoot them are you?” David asked.
“Couldn’t get away even if I did, not with this tire, I guess it’s time to give up,” Arthur realized what he was saying and looked regretful at his friend. “With the shooting and this cargo I don’t guess it’ll go easy on us. My father has some influence and I can get us a good lawyer but,” his voice trialed off. First there would be explaining to his father what David was doing in the truck, his father had some well placed bribes spread out but it would take some doing to get his father to decide David was worth wasting favors on.
They were now surrounded by the police, lights trained on them from every car. Arthur guessed that just about ever car the local police had was around them, and every officer in the department had their guns out and trained on them.
“Get out with your hands on your head,” a voice ordered through a megaphone. David looked over at him and shrugged, and then he opened his door and obeyed. Arthur followed after him and the police rushed forward. Already some of them were opening the back of the truck and pulling out cases of whiskey. An officer hurried off and Arthur imagined he was probably going to go get a revenue officer. None seemed present, Arthur wondered why. He would have thought that they would have brought one with the rest of the department.
“Just like in the radio shows,” David said, smiling at him as he allowed himself to be handcuffed. Arthur shook his head, nothing could faze David, but he couldn’t manage to smile back. For all of his promises to himself he had ruined David’s future. No matter what happened next, David would forever be a part of their world now.
“I don’t see anything,” David commented, peering out of the dark windshield. For the last few miles Arthur had refused to turn on his headlights. Arthur had finally pulled off on the side of the road and announced that they were there but for all David could see it was a normal cornfield.
“If you could see something then I would be very suspicious,” Arthur said, digging a revolver from under his seat and sticking it in his overcoat pocket. “Just in case,” he explained when he saw David’s face. “I don’t expect any trouble. Just the same, keep your head down; I don’t want you getting seen. If you get pulled into this business you’ll never get out of it, it keeps a hold on you. Just in case something happens to me, drive out of here as fast as you can.” Before David could protest about any of what he had said, Arthur left the cab of the truck and walked a couple of feet into the corn.
“Who’s it?” demanded a coarse voice. Arthur had no doubt that it was armed; they always were, so he stopped.
“I’m from the Huntley Hotel,” Arthur said, naming his father’s headquarters, knowing that would be enough. No need to spread unnecessary names around, his name for instance, if he had any say in the matter.
“Step into the light,” said the voice, and suddenly there was a light farther into the corn field. Arthur walked towards it, admiring the caution his contacts displayed. It made him feel safer to know that there wasn’t likely to be any leaks.
There were three men in the clearing in the corn, for a moment Arthur wondered what the farmer thought of that clearing and then dismissed the thought. The farmer was probably paid handsomely for use of his field; he might even be more involved in this affair then that. All three of the men having guns trained on him was a more immediate concern for Arthur. They guns were only lowered marginally when he held his hands slightly up to show them empty.
“You alone?” asked the man who was obviously the leader of the trio.
“There’s a guy waiting the truck for me,” Arthur admitted. He didn’t want David getting involved but it would be even worse if he got shot because Arthur had lied to some trigger happy gunmen. “He’s not involved in this, he’s just there in case you boys decide that I’d be better off dead,” Arthur bluffed. He had never been to deal where the dealers were this cautious, or this well armed. Arthur was starting to wish that he had told David about the Tommy gun under the passenger seat, he was sitting right over it but Arthur doubted David would look.
“You park the truck like you were told?” asked the leader of the group. The other two didn’t look like much the talking type, and they were holding their guns too casually for Arthurs comfort. The leader didn’t look quite so much like the shoot first type but Arthur recognized his type too. He was the sort to order other people to do horrible things to people without a pang of conscience, he was the leader type, he was the same type as Arthur’s father.
“That’s right, your pay for this stuff is where we told you it’d be so you load this stuff up and we’ll be off.” The leader type’s face contorted for a second, anger? Arthur knew he had said something dangerous, it had never been part of their deal for the dealers to load the truck but it would have been a lot of work for just he and David, and it would have left them in a position where they could have been shot down easily. It was hard to carry a gun while carrying crates of hard liquor. Arthur was counting on that, he wasn’t going to try any funny business but it would get the gorillas to put down their guns. This was supposed to be a gentleman’s transaction and Arthur had thought that his father’s street reputation was still intact enough that people wouldn’t feel the need to bring muscle. Arthur decided that he really didn’t like the look of the leader type.
Arthur watched as the two muscle types loaded up the truck, the leader type did nothing and neither did Arthur. It would have been faster had Arthur and the other man joined in but both were too busy glaring at the other to turn their backs on each other. As for David, Arthur certainly didn’t want to make him an accomplice to such an extent. It wasn’t until the others sunk back into the corn field that Arthur even walked up to the cab to talk to David.
“Glad to see you back without a bullet in your back. I don’t know how to drive,” David commented. Arthur remembered his advice to David about getting away fast if anything happened and laughed. It wouldn’t have been funny had David been stranded in the middle of nowhere with an illegal load but now that the danger was past it was funny to think about.
“We’re going to get out of here, we need to get back to the city by dawn so no stops this time,” Arthur said, pulling himself into the cab. They pulled onto the road again. Arthur had no intention of turning on his headlights, not now that they had a cargo, it was better to go unnoticed.
“This has been fun,” David commented after a few minutes of silent driving. “I’m glad I came with.”
“It was also dangerous, still is,” Arthur corrected. “We aren’t safe yet.”
“I don’t care, I need some adventure in my life every once in a while and there’s no such thing as adventure without danger.” Arthur thought about this but couldn’t think of anything in reply so they just kept driving.
It was around one in the morning that another car, also without headlights, pulled onto the road next to them. It was only Arthur’s quick reflexes and instant suspicion that saved both him and David as the guns went off at them from the car. Arthur peered over the steering wheel and decided that shedding some light on the attackers was more important then secrecy.
“Keep your head down as you can,” Arthur ordered David, switching on his headlights. He slowed the truck so that the car, not expecting the reduction in speed, went past them. In the headlights Arthur caught a glimpse of the leader type and his goons. Apparently they hadn’t been satisfied with getting their money. No wonder his father’s boys had been having some problems with the deliveries, not one of them had realized it was the people they had just bought from, or if they had realized they hadn’t been the ones to live to tell about it.
“Hold on,” Arthur shouted, though whether it was to David or himself he wasn’t sure. He forced the truck off of the road and through a pasture as the car slowed down to take another shot at them. Their windows were already shattered and Arthur realized in a dazed way that his arm was bleeding from a piece of glass.
“Does this always happen?” David asked, he seemed to have pressed himself to the floorboards, which was something for Arthur to be grateful for. At least David wasn’t about to be hit by a stray bullet. “By the way, is this a Tommy gun that’s digging into my ribs?”
“It isn’t like I never get out,” Arthur protested. He was starting to wonder if everything that David did was definite, he always spoke in a tone of total authority.
“From what I hear that’s business, not fun. You have to have fun sometimes,” David said. Arthur stared at him.
“What do you mean from what you’ve heard?” Arthur asked suspiciously. Was this a set up by another family, was David about to pull out a gun. Arthur was starting to wonder if he had been wise to turn down the bodyguard after all.
“The whole college knows who your father is, not matter how hard you try to hide it,” David said shrugging. “Why do you think everyone keeps away from you? I hear you have a part in the family business these days, though you’ve never been caught. That’s what they’re saying anyway. I won’t ask you if it’s true, that’s your business.”
“So why are you being so friendly with me if everyone is scared of me?” Arthur asked. If everyone knew who his father was he would expect them to be scared, which made David’s friendly behavior even more confusing. He had heard of people getting close to gangsters and stuff because they wanted favors and he was starting to wonder if David was one of this sort.
“You don’t seem to have a Tommy gun stuck under your coat,” David said, grinning. “And if you have a revolver it isn’t pointed at me at the moment.” Arthur still looked at David in amazement; he was treating the whole thing like it was a joke, his whole lifestyle.
“I’ve had people gun for me before, I have a scar on my side when I got grazed by a knife, for all you know just sitting here you could get caught in the crossfire,” Arthur said. David’s attitude about Arthur’s life made Arthur want to convince him that what he was doing was truly dangerous.
“I don’t mind,” was all David said, and he smiled so charmingly that Arthur didn’t argue anymore, even though he still felt he should. They didn’t talk about what Arthur was for the rest of the evening; instead they spent hours in the café talking about nothing in particular. Arthur became very found of David in the course of that one evening, he treated every subject with the casualness that he had treated Arthur’s work. Finally it got late enough that Arthur realized that everyone at the hotel was probably looking for him and he stood up.
“They probably have decided I’ve been kidnapped or knocked off or something by now, I better go,” Arthur said. A few hours he would have never made a joke about being knocked off to someone from school, but he was starting to forget that David wasn’t really part of his world.
“I’m telling you Arthur, living alone is so much nicer. No one ever has a fit if you stay out until dawn,” David told him, standing and shaking hands with him. “Stop by my place sometime, we’ll have a great time.”
“I’d invite you over to my place but I don’t know if you’d like it,” Arthur said sheepishly. “It’s not so great.”
“That big hotel you’re father’s set up in? I wouldn’t think it’d be so bad. At least you don’t have to make your own bed.”
“I was talking more about the company, but I really should go.” Arthur hurried out the door before he could say anything else. He hadn’t let his guard down for years and he was starting to feel very vulnerable.
No one commented that Arthur had been out far past his usual time. He was careful to not say anything about what he had been up to; he had a reputation to maintain. Arthur saw to it that he was the center of attention at one of the clubs his father owned, chased off a guy who was making eyes at his half sister, and saw to it that the booze wouldn’t run out. All in all it was a normal night, and well past one in the morning when he finally turned in.
In spite of telling himself all that night that he wasn’t going to get involved with David anymore, Arthur found he couldn’t help himself. His double life became more and more obvious as he kept it up, it got to the point where Arthur didn’t start wondering if he was really living in only one world. Morning and night he would do whatever dirty work his father needed, look after the clubs, shoot up a joint, anything his father didn’t trust the grunts to do right. In the afternoons though Arthur kept going to classes and started stopping at David’s apartment or going out to coffee with him. They could talk about anything Arthur discovered, David never made a moral censure about anything that Arthur told him. After their first meeting Arthur had been afraid that David was a connection from some other mob, or the cops, but as he slowly opened up not one of their jobs had been messed with so he figured David kept his mouth shut.
Several months after the start of his friendship with David Arthur was stretched out on his bed when he heard a commotion coming from the floor below. He grabbed a revolver from next to his bed and headed down to investigate. To his total and utter amazement he found David struggling with a couple of the boys from his father’s gang.
“Hey, cut it, I know this guy,” Arthur said, shoving his gun into his jacket pocket. “He’s my guest, and I don’t like to see my guests roughed up by you boys unless I tell you to, got it?” The men instantly let David go and looked as sheepish as their sort ever did. Messing up wasn’t popular, or likely to lead to a long life where the gang was concerned and Arthur held a lot of power. Their leader did point out that Arthur hadn’t told them he was expecting company but he looked properly ashamed for the comment when Arthur glared at him so he let it go.
“What do you think you’re wandering into?” Arthur demanded of David once they were safe in his room. “They could’ve shot you and not thought about it.”
“They didn’t though,” David said shrugging. “I was bored so I figured I’d drop by. It isn’t like the whole town doesn’t know where you and your group can be found.”
“Which is why most sane people keep away,” Arthur said, now up to ranting speed. With the sight of David he was starting to go back into the face he showed at school, the face where he had to dislike gangsters and mobs. “Do you like the idea of a bullet in your head? You march in here without an invitation and you expect them to welcome you with open arms. If I hadn’t come down they’d have probably decided you were a hit man from another gang and you just shrug at me.”
“Well I didn’t die and that’s what matters. So what are you doing tonight?”
“I have a job to do,” Arthur said, giving David a sideways look.
“I see, so you’re going to be out and about while I sit in my apartment, looking at the wallpaper for entertainment. I’d rather you took me with you.”
“Now I know you’re crazy,” Arthur said, for once as firmly as David usually was. “This isn’t a kiddy game; it’s not like in the radio stories.”
“I’d hope not, in the radio stories the gangsters always end up either dead or in jail,” David said grinning. It was nothing to grin about for Arthur; it was a little too close to the truth to be a laughing matter.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to be doing tonight, or how many of the guys are going to be with me. If it’s a bunch of my dad’s toughs do you really think they’ll like one of my college friends riding around as a potential witness? This isn’t a business where tourists are welcome.”
“The only reason I don’t know is because you haven’t told me. So long as I’m not the one holding the gun I don’t care what we’re doing.”
“This isn’t a we business, this is a me business. You have no part of it. Even if you’re not holding the gun, you’d still be an accomplice. For me it’s fine, hung for a sheep or a lamb, it’ll happen either way one of these days.”
“So does the job involve shooting tonight?” David asked calmly.
“I hope not, though you never know, thing happen.”
“And will a bunch of your father’s toughs be with you?” David persisted. Arthur knew that he should lie but looking at David he started to get the feeling David would know if he did.
“No, it’s just me alone,” Arthur admitted. “They’ve been having some trouble with transporting some stuff, so father is sending me.”
“Then you can take me with you and so long as we don’t get caught, no harm done. If it makes you feel better if we do get caught I can tell them that you kidnapped me,” as usual David was treating the whole like a joke. It was like he had no problem at all knowing that his friend was a known gun man who had been taken in for questioning several times by the police, even if they had never pinned anything on him.
“So you’d have them stick me in the big house for a longer time then they would just for running hooch?” Arthur demanded, though now he was smiling for the first time since they started talking.
“Is that what the job is?” David asked. “I wouldn’t mind a car ride, let’s go.”
“I still don’t think that father’s boys will like it if I take on a passenger, I don’t think father will like it for that matter,” Arthur said, still doubtful.
“So don’t let them see you pick me up. I’ll wait around the corner for you,” David suggested.
“Not this corner, too many of father’s boys around here,” Arthur said, getting swept into his friend’s wild ideas.
“Alright, the corner of Elm and Maple then,” David suggested. That’s close enough that I could walk there but far enough away that nobody that matters will see.” Arthur was forced to admit that Elm and Maple would work. They killed a little time, until Arthur announced loudly that he really had to be going, and David made a show of parting.
“Who’s that?” demanded his father’s second in command when Arthur walked out after David had left.
“A guy from school, don’t worry I told him not to come around anymore. He’s not talkative if that’s what you’re worried about, and didn’t see nothing if he was. He’s not smart enough to hurt us any.”
“If you say so,” the man said doubtfully. “Seems dangerous to have someone like that inviting himself but I guess you know your business.”
“Yeah, and you’d better keep out of it,” Arthur snapped. The man might have been his father’s second in command but as his father’s son Arthur was still higher up on the ladder. It never hurt to remind people of his power every once in a while.
When he worked in the parts of his father’s clubs that had gambling Arthur saw a lot of sons of rich and influential families go in and out. They were usually considered embarrassments to their families, some of them were even disowned, but most of them looked like they were enjoying every moment of it. They were rebelling against their families and society, and it gave the young men who went through their gambling rooms a sort of fraternity. It was a fraternity that Arthur had never been a part of, what could the son of a gangster do to rebel? He could have joined the police force or hired as a detective but he had no interest in either profession so in the end he had done exactly what his father wanted him to do. Therefore it was a feeling of unfamiliar disobedience that Arthur stopped to pick up David on Elm and Maple.
“So where are we off too?” David asked, once they were outside of the city limits.
“Up north, there are still some breweries running, underground operations. They make the best whiskey available since the prohibition.”
“I didn’t know there were still breweries working,” David commented and Arthur smiled at his friend’s innocence.
“A lot of bribes and crooked politicians see they stay in operation and don’t get raided, not too often anyway. We don’t have to worry so much about the cops as we do about the competition. They’ve been gunning at our boys recently when they’ve gone to make the runs so dad sent me, try to get a look at who’s messing with us at least. They’ve stolen a couple of our shipments and you don’t do that if you want to stay healthy.”
“Like I said, so long as I’m not the one holding the gun I don’t care.”
“You could still get shot,” Arthur pointed out, starting to second guess bringing his friend again. It was too late now to turn around and put him back in city limits though. Arthur had a strict schedule to keep and turning around would through it off. It was a long trip and he wanted them both to be back in time to go to classes Monday morning.
At noon, after a night of driving, they pulled off of the road and found a shop that sold sandwiches and coffee. David had slept in the seat next to Arthur while he drove so he was in a much more cheerful mood then Arthur was. It turned out that David had never been on a long car trip before and he was treating the whole thing like it was a holiday. Arthur finally suggested that David get out and explore the town so that he could stretch out on the truck’s seat and sleep for a few hours. Since they had no cargo secrecy was no matter but later they wouldn’t have the chance to pull over to the side like this. Arthur would need all of the sleep he could get.
With a bundle of sandwiches for later meals Arthur and David got started on the road again. Now that they were both rested even Arthur started to forget that this was a business trip, it was the most fun he had had for a long time. David handed him a bottle of ice cold cola that he had bought while around town, a prohibition drink if Arthur had ever seen one, but he wasn’t in the mood to complain. He was all the more comfortable with David because he wasn’t a part of the illegal world he belonged to, and the last thing he wanted to do was encourage David to head toward illegal tastes. It was a relief to see David drink such a harmless beverage even when he knew that Arthur could provide something less legal.
