MAVE
What inalienable truths exist in the word parent? What ingredients coalesce to create those that assume the role? Mave Caitlyn, Naomi's mother, no longer attempted to interpret the word. Naomi had not even been her first child, and gone were the toddling days of the sun-kissed girl and her elder brother. Those thoughts belonged to new parents and Mave was three years shy of a 20-year experience. She had been down that road before and braved the existential perils that populated the path, but said path was behind her.
To her own credit, Mave provided all of the things children needed: security, stability, and love. Her brand of affection may have been a bitter one when compared to her late husband, but she was confident that her intent was never lost on her offspring. After all, Naomi and her brother were beacons of achievement. Both were still rough around the edges, but they improved themselves with a clear understanding of what was expected of them. Mave made sure of that.
A testament to her work was, in fact, her youngest, for what girl fresh into her teens could fend for herself in the way Naomi had? Yes. Naomi understood her situation, and she accepted it with the maturity Mave instilled and silently prized. Because of her daughter, the Caitlyn Queen could commit to tasks far more consequential to the collective. The most pressing agenda for the day: The inhuman threat from a boy and his brother.
"Warden General!" called a young agent.
"Lieutenant Delen," Mave responded.
"The briefing is almost ready," said the Lieutenant. "Colonel Damien, is completing the last of his notes and the rest of the leadership is assembled, save for you."
"Very good..." Mave responded. What followed was an abbreviation of silence. Mave had been lingering in the highest hall of a decrepit building – an armory meant to house Warden weapons and personnel beyond The Divide. Her eyes had been closed as she stood in front of the unwashed windows. She had to doze whenever the opportunity was presented, however brief it may have been. Now that her aid had come to call, the Caitlyn Queen set her gaze upon the view just beyond the complex.
"Is there something wrong ma'am," inquired the lieutenant.
"It is not often that I have to venture beyond the walls," said Mave.
"I understand, Warden General." Said the lieutenant. She simply stood with Mave, silent and gazing into the slum skyline.
The Warden armory did not belong in the slums. As if the building had been plucked from the interior and dropped into the ruins, the foreign structure was washed in harsh illumination as if to consecrate the impoverished land. The high stone walls provided further assurance and the roof offered a roost for speedy aircrafts in case the need for quick extraction arose. The militant structure towered high in that ruined world as a dominating force, yet its occupants packed themselves within the perimeter as if the air beyond was toxic.
Agents took point on the grassy lawn. They were patrolling in a group size far too numerous to display anything but fear. Mave watched the young agents, their anxiety obvious to her experienced eyes. She did not think ill of their caution. A certain level of caution was required to do their duties properly, but, instead of harnessing that anxiety, Mave saw agents attempt to escape it with lackadaisical doings meant to diminish their fear. She shook her head.
Recent happenings were enough to justify their behavior - Warden agents were rarely killed and never had they been dispatched so closely together in time by a single suspect. Things were dire, but, to the Caitlyn Queen, that was precisely why she frowned upon the agents below. They dallied about the premises determined to distract themselves from reality and she scorned them for it.
The only thing that proved more pressing than the agent's juvenile loitering was how they projected their power. The people of the slums rarely approached Warden compounds. The penetrating lights of the imposing structure easily justified their hesitance, but a far more despicable reason was revealed when the agents hurled their cruel words at alley urchins who wandered too close during their nightly scrounge. Mave saw the agents look upon the scattering denizens with pride. Not only did she scorn them, but she thought them all pathetic as well.
"And the leadership here wonder why we do not let them work in the walls," said Lieutenant Delen.
"It is distasteful," said Mave. "But they are a part of a necessary structure. As ugly as said structure may be, it is best you learn to accept and exploit." Mave turned away from the shanty scenery and the faulty agents prescribed to it. "But I have lingered long enough. Come, Lieutenant. You will be my scribe for this briefing."
"Yes, Warden General." Lieutenant Delen followed. "I cannot thank you enough for bringing me with you. It would be my honor to serve."
"There is no need for that," said a Mave. "If you truly want to thank me, write notes better than all the scribes that I have assigned before you."
"Yes ma'am!"
Mave walked on heavy, steel-toe boots, yet the fall of her foot was as benign as spring rain. Despite her subdued emergence in the meeting room, her entrance hailed a clapping of heels as all of the prestigious men at the rectangular table rose to welcome her. Their bodies could only be described with Olympian verbiage and they glowed with their own shine. These were agents of the strongest frames and the sharpest mind, and they towered before their contemporaries in deed and valor as well as stature. No one needed to wonder why the lower ranks lost their breath before these glittering titans, and yet they rose with respect as a short, skinny woman took her seat at the head of their table. Mave fit into her throne with ease and clasped her hands together on the table before closing her eyes and setting her head.
"At ease, gentlemen." Said Mave.
Her command had been a quiet one but the weight of her words pushed the senior staff into their seats. These old agents remained stiff in the face of their Warden General and where they once boasted their achievements with heels on the table and collars loosened, they were now buttoning up their gray blazers and adjusting the awards pinned to their uniform. The room could be measured by an over-abundant sense of correction with the exception being alone three. Warden General Mave, Lieutenant Delen, and Colonel Damien.
The third to Mave's three-person entourage was a clean-cut, freshly shaven man bulging with muscle and a crystalline discipline. He was heading the opposite end of the table reviewing a stack of documents gathered for this particular occasion. His burly fingers slipped between the reports in a way that left them fluttering and, with a ferocious focus on display, his poise left a presence that left the senior staff resembling cheap imitations of his perfection. When the muscular man completed his final review of the documents, he looked up, tapped his papers into a perfect stack and looked upon the council of top brass.
"Warden General," said Colonel Damien.
"You may begin whenever you are ready, Colonel," said Mave.
"Thank you, Warden General," said the Colonel. His sharp stare stabbed the senior staff, one man at a time. He then inhaled before beginning. "Good evening, and thank you all for attending." A senior staff member tsked his teeth. The meeting had not been optional. "As many of you know, I am Colonel Damien of the Warden General Advisory Board. You also know why the request was made that every commander posted beyond York's Divide be gathered here tonight. The wall has been breached."
Colonel Damien took a moment, and Mave watched as the staff shifted in their seats. The Colonel began again. "Now, I am sure the thought that follows my statement equates to a simple 'so what'. After all, it is true that the wall is breached every day of every hour of every other minute by thieves, smugglers, and slavers. Even those with far less malicious intent find ways to circumvent our legendary barrier in search of a better life, though unlawful their actions may be. You might be thinking 'What is the big deal?' Well, gentlemen, the 'big deal' is the uniqueness of the culprit."
The person whom the colonel went on to describe matched Achim's exact description. Substantiated by bystanders, combatants, and a file littering the destruction of a certain hamlet, the dark boy was a known entity – a demon from the wild – wrapped in unknown dangers. His accursed strength was described, his blinding speed recounted, and his resistance to the gunfire painted a dire picture.
"This superpowered outsider is capable of things far beyond most agent's ability to contend with," said The Colonel. "And he proved this with a gruesome display when he killed one of our own after she refused to honor his request. But what brought this evil child to our realm?" The Colonel pointed to a file detailing further. "His brother," said The Colonel. "An elder brother, based on description. An elder brother that was encountered by the agents posted on this side of the divide less than 24 hours ago. According to the men that sought to apprehend him, this boy displayed the exact same abilities as his younger sibling. His abilities may even be more potent than his younger brother. The reason we believe this comes from the sheer amount of punishment he willingly endured. An onslaught of bullets from an entire squadron rained down upon the assailant, yet he was left unscathed. His thick hide only wavered after multiple point-blank shots to the head, and even that was only a small abrasion."
The senior staff whispered during the reports. Few consumed the information without skepticism, concern, or some mixture of both. "We do not know if there are more like these two within our midst but, even if the siblings proved to be the only threat, we are at a severe disadvantage." said The Colonel. "Even so, our position demands that we do what we can with what we have. As the highest-ranking agents on this side of The Divide, the duty falls to you. The task is daunting, and that is precisely why The Warden General is here to assist you in this endeavor. Are there any questions?"
The senior staff was silent for only a moment. After a quick clear of the throat, one of their voices barreled toward The Colonel.
"Do we know anything else outside of the capabilities of these intruders," said one of the staff members.
"What we have are names and an alleged motive,'' said Colonel Damien. "Achim and Adlai Arbitor. Achim being the one we once called The Slum-Town Slayer, is the younger brother. He is also the one that decapitated one of our agents in the interior, a group of agents near the sector 24 aqueduct, as well as a large group of mercenaries in a privately owned compound on this side of The Divide."
The Colonel shifted his attention to the next document. "Adlai is the elder, and he is the kid that fought off an entire squad and their captain in sector 5. He has one arm and is the less belligerent of the two, as far we know." Colonel Damien began to pace as he thought. "It must be noted that we gave the slayer moniker to the assailants under the presumption that their origins rested here, in the slums, but the most recent encounter proved this to be a misnomer. These threats come from far beyond our walls. Far far beyond. Needless to say, people have always been prone to superstitions regarding The Wilds and our city's history adds an extra layer of anxiety that cannot be understated. It is why we have done our absolute best to keep information on these boys secret, but rumors spread easily. Especially in the slums."
"And their reasons for being here," Asked another staff member.
"That...has proven to be a rather complicated question," Said Colonel Damian.
He then looked to a particular officer and made a gesture that requested he rise. The man in question was a mean-looking sort. He was the stockiest of the staff as well. He huffed at Colonel Damian and did not give him a direct gaze, even as the old agent acknowledged the request.
"Major Cassidy should be able to present a far more detailed report on that matter," Said Colonel Damian. "It was his men that encountered the elder brother, Adlai Arbitor. Their exchange was most recently reported by the soldiers under his command. Begin when you are ready, Major."
The Major did not offer any gratitude after receiving the floor, at least not to Colonel Damien. He merely cleared his throat and began his report. "As you all know, my agents encountered the intruder. It was thanks to their bravery and battle prowess that I am able to relay this information before you now. First and foremost, Adlai and Achim are indeed brothers. The intruder confirmed this himself during an exchange with Captain Connelly. In fact, it was thanks to Captain Connelly's cunning that we learned the motive of these devilish beings. The one known as Achim is searching for Adlai, but Adlai displayed a bitter contempt for Achim, the ladder's younger brother. It is because of that information and more that leads us to believe that they are not in league with one another. One even seems to be actively working against the other."
"That implies we can fight fire with fire," said a staff member.
"Captain Connelly thought the same," said the Major. "He attempted to coerce the threat but was refused under the grounds that our forces are...'bullies'."
Most of the men in the room laughed outright. Mave and her small entourage were alone in their silence.
"Children," said a scoffing staff member.
"Children that could easily tear through this room if the idea suited them," said the Warden General. She opened her eyes and sat up in her seat. "If any of you want to underestimate the Arbitor brothers, do so on your own time at your own discretion. While you're here with me, you will take this threat seriously." She placed a finger on the table. "I need ideas, gentlemen. I am aware of the challenges the units on this side of The Divide contend with, but you also have a plethora of unique methods those in the interior cannot invoke without cause for civilian concern and petty politics."
"Unique methods?" Lieutenant Delen let down her notepad and set a scrutinizing eye on the Warden General. "If--If I maybe so bold ma'am – are the people beyond York's Divide equally susceptible to collateral as those inside?"
"They are equally vulnerable, Lieutenant, If not more so," Mave responded. "They are simply not a priority. Most of the people in the slums are not even in the process of being properly naturalized. To say nothing of full-fledged citizen status. In other words, if a choice had to be made between the people in the interior and a vagrant on this side of The Divide, we will always choose the interior. Even then, prosperity of the realm supersedes all formalities."
Mave left her lieutenant to ponder her words. She would then address the senior staff. "I will be transparent with you all." Mave leaned forward, her darkly gaze cutting the men before she even spoke. "Outside of emergencies such as this, I have absolutely zero interest in the things your agents get-up to here. I am fully aware of the quality of recruits distributed throughout the slums and what they are capable of. One might even say them being shipped here is by design. Regardless, let me bring attention to the caveats that have always existed with this bitter hand. The units on this side of The Divide, your units, are uniquely capable of doing whatever it takes to stomp out all threats to the realm. That freedom of motion is why I called for this meeting and chose to personally participate. I expect results and I expect them quickly."
Mave wrapped her words in sandpaper before pressing it against her men. They were all left chafed, but something despicable had been uncovered by the rough brush. A vast majority of the senior staff allowed themselves to relax. These same men then looked at one another with a snickering glee. The veil of propriety had been removed.
"Just to be clear, Warden General." Said a staff member. "Are you giving us a blank check for this situation?"
"I am," Mave responded. "Those of us in the interior are fully aware of dubious activities some of you take part in. We even found a few files directly implicating certain names in this room in weapons trading, human trafficking, and other highly illegal activities. It was all generously donated by a recently deceased business mogul who liked to call himself The Sire. I am sure a few of you were very well acquainted. My condolences on your loss."
Some of the staff members shrunk in their seats. After scanning the room, the small general reasserted herself with a chilling implication. "Do not fear. Due to recent events, I am not interested in doing anything more than filing the evidence in a safe beneath my desk. Help me with this crisis, and the evidence may just as easily find the shredder. Do I make myself clear?"
The foul things in the room with Mave and her staff were accommodated for only a short time before her words caused them to sweat. The air had been left tense again. The senior staff were left breathless. The innocent few were aghast and that left a full view of the guilty as they melted beneath the heat of indictment. Some pulled their collars, others cleared their throat after choking, but one staff member simply laughed.
"The contrast between your leadership and that of Liam's never ceases to impress and mortify," said a senior agent. He then shot Mave a jester's gaze. "The things he would say, I wonder."
"There is absolutely zero reason to invoke my predecessor," Mave's cold tone had become razor sharp. "Refrain from doing so for the duration of the meeting. We have far more important matters to discuss."
. . .
"Warden General," said the Lieutenant.
Mave had been called, awoken from a statuesque slumber. She had fallen asleep sometime during the meeting but held a perfectly upright position that left none the wiser. With arms folded and a chin held attentively, Lieutenant Delen seemed surprised to find the woman unresponsive. It took a couple more calls but Mave opened her eyes after the third.
"What is it?," said Mave. She looked to the board room and found it empty. Only the lieutenant and the colonel remained, the ladder collecting his papers as the former looked to the general in a wash of concern. "I see. The meeting is over."
"Yes, Warden General," Said Lieutenant Delen. "Colonel Damien led the meeting well, and I wrote down everything that was discussed. But...Umm...I am sure we can gather the paperwork and send the documents through an email or leave them on your desk."
"Get to the point Lieutenant. We are both adults." Said Mave.
"Y-yes ma'am. I just wanted to say you should go home and rest. I-I heard you have a daughter. I'm sure she would like to spend time with you for the rest of the weekend."
"My daughter knows what my job entails. If she expects me to spend time with her on the weekends, then she has failed to grasp the gravity of my duties," Mave responded. "Moreover, these anomalous events require my undivided attention. I will not leave you to shoulder my responsibility. Go over the notes, please."
Mave's lieutenant was left looking a little bereft. She turned to Colonel Damien who only threw up a hand. He was well accustomed to his general's work ethic, and long learned to keep his thoughts to himself while in the presence of others. With that in mind, the large man simply shook his head at the lieutenant and took the notes from her person.
"Lieutenant Delen, go prepare the helicopter for our departure. I can give the report. You did well," said The Colonel.
The young agent nodded and left the room to do just that. When the occupants consisted only of him and his Warden General, The Colonel set himself on the table and kicked his feet up against that highest part of the chair. "Where did you find that one, Mave?"
"She was the favorite of an officer I relieved of duty a week ago," Mave answered. The woman laid her head down.
"And yet another disenfranchised is taken under your wide wings. You truly are the mother we never had," Said the colonel. He patted Mave's shoulder with a playful rhythm. "I wonder who else might need a figure like that."
"Colonel Damien," Said Mave. "The report please."
"Mave," Said the colonel. He crossed his arms and his look.
"Marcus," Said Mave. She rubbed her temples raw. "The report please."
"That little lieutenant has a point," said The Colonel. "Go home. See your daughter. I am more than qualified to file the necessary reports, push the paperwork, and strong arm these goons into compliance. Besides, I have a bone to pick with that guy that bad-mouthed Liam. Sure he was a little naïve, but he had far more" –
"Marcus!" Mave shot the man a hard glare. Her dark eyes were deep with anger and pain. "The report...Please!"
"Fine," Said the colonel. He brushed his gray blond hair with a hand before relenting. "But you should know that I am just as serious as you are. When this is over, go spend a day with Naomi."
"Stubborn," Said Mave. She sat back in her chair, unamused. "If it means I get this report sooner rather than later, fine. I will spend a day with Naomi."
"Good," said the chuckling colonel. "We can all go out for ice cream."
"Why do you have to—nevermind." Mave clenched her tired face. "The report please, Colonel."
"Yes, Warden General," Colonel Damien flipped through the notes before beginning. "We began the meeting with a discussion of the weapons at our immediate disposal. Based on the data gathered on the intruders, we talked about the yield required to neutralize the threats. Under-the-table trading has left our inventory records on this side of the divide unreliable, but the trade off is a supply of highly effective weaponry forbidden within the interior. An assortment of Improvised Explosive Devices, or IEDs, are among the stock as well as a rocket launcher coveted by one of the commanders. I ordered the senior staff to give us a full report on every last bit of inventory." He looked away from his notes and toward Mave. "In the event that they prove less than forthcoming, I suggest we collect our best interior agents to oversee these Slum Snakes during their count. When we get a proper inventory, we can then supplement their weaponry with our own and pray that they are effective."
"Very good," said Mave. "Be discreet. During the inspection, do not allow our interior forces to brandish anything linking them to us. I want the sloppy image of the slum's oppressors to remain easily distinguishable from our more disciplined forces in the interior. I also want an immediate meeting with the governor. For now we will sweep the slums in a massive campaign starting Monday, but I will need his help to temporarily relinquish work visas, and to shut down the trams that transport people into the interior. If I can convince him to intern all of the special citizens that live in the interior as well, that would be ideal. Even house-arrest would do. As for York's official population, we need to ensure that little daily life is disrupted. We can plan an impromptu festival at the beach or open up free community events to draw their attention away from the increase in patrols within the interior, should our search of the slums fail."
"What if the threats are drawn to these events," asked The Colonel.
"That is precisely why I want all those with special citizen status interned. Given the power those boys have displayed in the report, I doubt they will be impeded by a stalled train or a large wall. In fact, it would be better if they entered the interior. If we manage to intern those with special status, those two will be easy to pick out in a crowd. And because those with special status typically have swarthy characteristics, York's prejudice alone will snare them. If either of those boys react violently as a result, Warden will be able to escalate its methods to the sound of thunderous applause from a frightened populace and a governor with no means of assuring them. Even in the worst-case scenario where the people are outright slaughtered, Warden will be better equipped to protect the realm."
"Yes, Warden General," Said the colonel. He then stashed the orders beneath his blouse. "The little lieutenant would not be pleased to hear you making chess pieces of the populace."
"She is a nice girl," Mave said with a sigh. "That is why I have slated her to attend all of my meetings for the next month. Either she learns to stomach my methods or she can request a transfer."
"Transfer? From the single most prestigious unit in all Warden?" The colonel scoffed. "And I thought only your tactics were cruel." It was a dry and playful sarcasm "Speaking of the lieutenant, should I read the rest of her notes?"
"Ah," Mave set a finger on her forehead and tapped. It was a self-reprimanding gesture. "My apologies. I formulated a plan without even hearing all of the details."
"And yet your plan was sound," Said Colonel Damien. "Most of what I was going to discuss is either minute or inconsequential."
"Even so, please continue. In order to ensure success I want to make sure that"—Mave went silent.
Her senses caught a sound that trapped in her ear.
"Tell me, Colonel. This room is soundproof, correct?"
"Yes? Why?"
"No reason. I just feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing," said Mave. The Warden General rose to open the door and walked out of the board room. She eventually returned to that grungy window, and saw a scene riddled with agents distracted by some far-off phenomenon. As the towering colonel followed, he was immediately disgusted by the dallying patrol. Mave though, was looking into a slum-scape scene that was not the same as before. The change in detail was rather benign, yet her dark eyes caught it quickly.
"That rock formation," Mave said. "That was not there before."
"Warden General! Warden General Caitlyn!" Lieutenant Delen could be heard bursting through the halls. When she found the woman at the window, the lieutenant fumbled from her own panic. "It's one of the intruders," said the Lieutenant. "It's Achim Arbitor!"