The Wars That We Fight

Chapter Four

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- E and A)

Three confident knocks jerked Tyler from his semi-conscious reverie. Someone was at the door. Tyler rubbed his eyes and lifted the newspaper off his chest as he rolled onto his feet and crossed the room. The door, with the rest of the building, had been a frequent victim of flooding, and bulged in places where the false wood material had been exposed to water. He opened it a crack, then more fully once he had identified the visitor. Anita pushed past Tyler and plopped down on his velvety, stained couch, her legs crossed. She patted the seat beside her, still bouncing slightly.

"Guess what?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "I'm getting ranked-up! HR is applying to make me a Three."

Tyler, his facial expression dull, alighted on the cushion next to her.

"Work?" he asked.

She nodded, the spark disappearing from her eye.

"It seems like you're getting in too deep," Tyler said.

"I know they've got some transparency issues," Anita began, "and I understand you don't want to trust them after what happened, but they're doing some real good. I don't think they've got the same problems the NNE did."

Tyler recalled Kaia's words. They're all the same. Without realising it, he began to whisper. "That group is just as able to hide violence behind words as the NNE was."

Anita looked up. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just something my neighbour said."

"The one from New Brazil?"

Tyler nodded.

"Well, then I understand. It would be hard to trust anyone, knowing what she's been through."

He nodded again.

"Look, I'm sorry it happened. I'm sorry I ever got you involved. And how was I supposed to know it was going to be that bad?"

A nod.

"The EDFC is different, I swear! And a rank-up! I have to take it. You understand that."

"And if they're not different?"

"They will be. I know it."

***

"How was chess today, sweetie?" Mrs. Ribbel made a vain attempt at stroking the loose curls on Gregory's head as he entered the house.

"Fine." The K6 Chess Club, which was exclusive to Olegates, was his excuse for being out later than usual. His parents condoned his presence there. He couldn't tell them about going to the Senvalorate sectors, let alone befriending one of them.

"You look a little tired," she said. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he forced a smile. "I've just a had a long day."

"Well, if you need me, I'm going to be upstairs."

"Okay."

She began to ascend the staircase, but paused, and asked, "Do you think I should paint my nails the usual red, or is pink better for spring?"