The Wars That We Fight

Chapter Nine

(Author's note: Well, here we are again. Thanks for reading, and for making it to this point in the story. If you're enjoying it, please remember to vote, and comment to tell us what you loved or hated. Who is your favourite character so far? What do you think is going to become of Gregory? 

- E and A)

"Detained. What does that mean, detained? How long are you going to be keeping Gregory here?" Mr. Ribbel was hunched in a chair at the processing facility.

"Well, we're not exactly keeping him here. He'll be transferred to another prison in a day or two."

"Which one?"

"Oh, I don't know yet. They're still deciding. He is just a kid, but he's old enough to know what he's doing, and treason's a biggie, so it could really be in any one of the sectors, depending on what they decide. As for how long, again, it depends."

"So they've convicted him, just like that! No trial, nothing."

"He plead guilty. No, he did more than that; he straight up turned himself in. What kind of trial would we have?"

"But I confessed. I did it, as I've told you a hundred times. Why is his word being held above mine? You say you've determined he's the guilty one? On what evidence? You had better tell me exactly why he's so much more credible than me, and what in hell is keeping my son from me!"

"You want the long and the short of it? So we know, by nature of the system, that the letter was processed by the post facilities in your neighborhood. Then we determine your work in the government involves the legal details of sorting out land claims to the hospital areas, and all that, and no one else within a certain radius of the post office has much specific knowledge on the hospitals. Seems pretty cut and dry, I guess. Then your kid says something, and we look into it, and find out he's been hanging around the Senva hospital, over in the Ninth Sector, and that some papers were posted up in his school about that hospital. And you can't even tell me what colour the stamp was. You tell me, who would you convict? No, sir, it's clear as day it was the kid, and sure, it was a fluke, the oddest of coincidences that we ever even suspected anyone in your family at all, but there you have it. The evidence stands. And that bit about posting the papers, or articles—whatever he called it—he confessed to, and it's not going to help him any when they decide the sentence."

Mr. Ribbel did not respond.

"Is that all?"

"Let me see him. I have to see him."

***

Audra drew up to the Central South Ninth Sector Gate, which was a large artery of traffic at almost all times. She looked over the different Senvalorates, who were all passing through the streets and sidewalks, and eyed the posts on either side of the road, which were part of the immense arch, called a gate, looking for someone standing still and waiting for her. Then she heard a voice.

"You came alone," remarked, as if in surprise, a somewhat unkempt, fragile-looking figure.

"You're Simone?" Audra asked, relieved that she felt unintimidated by the stranger.

"Not exactly. I'm Chike, and I've been relaying messages between you two because Simone, for a while now, hasn't been in a position to leave her place very often."

"Oh, well, nice to meet you," Audra said timidly. "Is she sick?"

"No. It's a bit more complicated. Well, you'll be surprised. Well. I hope this won't change your mind, but she's actually in prison. She's being detained illegally, and is not a criminal, and even if she were, it would be completely safe for you to visit, since it's a Senva prison, and you're a Senva, so it's commonplace, and you'll be protected by glass and guards," Chike spoke defensively and quickly.

"I have nowhere better to go except Q9 right now, and I've already come this far, so I might as well go," Audra replied hesitantly, though she had not succeeded in convincing herself this was true.

Chike smiled, "Follow me."

And Audra followed.

"You know," Chike began, "I had no idea you'd be quite so young. In hindsight, though, it makes sense. Your answers to Simone's questions were... They were a bit, youthful, shall we say?"

"Oh. Naive, you mean?"

"I meant no offense."

They passed through the gate, travelling towards the Ninth Sector Penitentiary on foot. After a time they reached the unremarkable, square edifice, and entered. Audra followed, with a little direction from Chike, a process of speaking with the officer at the front, and interacting with some outdated pieces of machinery for sorting visitors—nothing compared to what was in hospitals now—before finally being directed to a long, dim room, and a specific seat, number 16, where she waited for Simone.

At last, a frail woman with sagging cheeks, a few remaining clumps of cotton for hair, and washed-out eyes was escorted at the arm of an officer into the seat across from Audra, which was on the other side of a glass wall. Simone, settling down into her chair slowly, looked over Audra wordlessly, searching her face and scrutinizing her mannerisms.

"Hello," Simone said.

"Hello," Audra parroted back.

Then, with an abrupt familiarity, she began, "Well I'm glad I'll be passing on my knowledge to you. My other children have... forsaken me. And you're the only person I have left, you and Chike, and perhaps a handful here and there... Well, you're a person that I can tell shares my vision. And I want you to be among those who still carry on my dream. I know; I'm rambling." She lifted her hand as if to stop Audra from interrupting, "Just give me some time to explain. I won't be here much longer. Don't look so grim, my dear; it's a fact of life. And I've had a long time to live already, and in that time I've seen a lot of things, and I've seen some of the biggest changes in this world to ever come about. So now it breaks my heart to see all of the work done by humanity in the past one hundred years go so utterly to waste. People like you and Chike—people who are still children and who still dream—you have the power to make it right again. But maybe a little background from me will help you to do it."

Simone stopped, and smiled weakly at Audra, her eyes foggy, and her hands shaking has she fiddle with the hem of her sweater.

Audra tilted her head, unsure what to say, or if she should say anything at all.

Then, as Simone remained silent, she decided to say, "Thanks for taking the time to tell me your story. I'd be glad to hear it.

Simone laughed a breezy, high-pitched chuckle.

"Thank you for humouring me," she said, returning to her normal tone after letting her laughter die away. "Chike wrote that first thing about wars on the wall. I'm not in the habit of telling people to go write things on random walls. But when I heard that Chike had found a response, I said, 'how about you write back?' and from then on the conversation was put in my hands. It's not a means of finding supporters that I'm used to. I'm sorry. I'm rambling again. You probably want to know who I am. I guess I'll just get that out of the way now. I call myself Simone... Because I like the way it sounds... But it's just a nickname based off my surname. During the war, I was General Simon. And then the war was over, and for a time it was better. But that time ended. So to make sure we wouldn't have to fight the same war over again, I founded the NNE."