The headline NAVY BUSTS SMUGGLING DEN ON SOUTHEASTERN COAST was splashed across the front page of the (conveniently Naval-allied) Narragansett World. When Babs entered the café, Haneda tucked the newspaper away and placed it off to the side. As she sat down, she felt a little odd, ordering something that came on a silver plate rather than eating from the big pot of stew and soup and spaghetti that regularly boiled in the kitchen of the Yellow Knives. She had a deli there she used to order from, too, until the butcher with his sunken eyes got sent below ground to work. The newcomers from the western reaches of Arcadia had already arrived, hardy folk who spoke with odd accents and made even odder foods. Babs could never get quite used to anything outside of the way things used to be.
And it was all her fault. She was too blinded by the initial successes to see the long-term damage. And Caesar had planned it that way from the start. He felt their deaths would be necessary sacrifices for the foundation of Kallipolis. Can you trade a life for utopia? Maybe you can, but who gets to decide what lives get traded? The astral projection up in the tower or the woman actually on the streets teaching them?
“I heard Caesar is singing your praises,” Haneda complimented. “A job well done.”
Babs gave a numb nod and rested her head on a palm. Outside, automobiles rumbled down the tree-lined avenue. She thought of home and the sheer contrast of it all created by sleek, luxurious modernity - too bad the fruits of modernity didn’t reach the whole city, let alone the whole country.
Amazing how two worlds can exist at once.
“You don’t look like someone who just achieved a major accomplishment.”
Another numb nod. Babs rubbed her eyes. “Sorry. I know I should be proud and all.”
Haneda leaned forward. Was it just her imagination, or had his hair been graying since the last time they met all those years ago? Since when was his face so wrinkled? And if she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn she used to be shorter than him, but now his eyes glanced upward as he spoke to her.
“Should you?” he asked.
Babs didn’t understand. “Well, sure. I did a great thing for Caesar and the cause.”
Haneda took a sip of coffee and spoke from behind the mug. “Did you?”
The stick of gum called for her in her jacket pocket, but she wasn’t in the mood. “Do you want the answer I’m supposed to give or the answer on how I’m really feeling?”
She would have to decide for herself. Babs gritted her teeth, but kept her voice low. “I thought I’d be bringing these people to Kallipolis with me, but instead, I just used them to pave the road to it with their corpses. Caesar used me to do it. He made the decision. I'm not sure if it was his decision to make. But he's Caesar, after all.”
Somewhere, beyond the grave, Ling must’ve been laughing.
“Do you think this is wrong?”
Once again, Babs had two answers to Haneda’s question. The right answer was no. But that was the answer for Caesar. The answer, way down in her heart, was a resounding-
“Yes.”
Haneda set the coffee down. A young couple walked by their booth, completely unaware of the machinations deep at work. Triads and revolutions didn’t exist in the kind of world they lived in.
“Will you do something about it?”
Babs side-eyed him. She trusted him completely, but the way he spoke set off alarm bells in her head. His tone implied treason, and Caesar’s punishment for treason would be him shutting the pearly gates to the future Kallipolis (ie, killing her). There couldn’t be any objections to Caesar’s will, since a child ought not to disobey their father. Parents know best, after all, and no matter how cruel their actions may seem, they always have the best interest of the family in mind. That was the key lesson of the agora and would provide the backbone of the Kallipolis family-state.
“I know that, if something is wrong, I should act on it,” Babs began slowly, speaking in a hushed tone. "But Caesar knows it is right, and his judgment is better than mine. Better than everybody’s.”
Haneda said nothing, and his expression remained neutral as always. He set the empty coffee mug down. “Should you ever decide to re-examine a statement like that, head to the Skyfather’s church in Neponset. Pew fifteen. Third leg from the right.”
She merely raised an eyebrow at that, but Haneda spread open the newspaper. “Now, I didn’t invite you here just to talk about work. You’ve finally heeded my advice and started following baseball, yes? I like Wampa University’s chances this year.”
Babs could only shake her head and smile.
----------------------------------------
A week later, Babs found herself in Caesar’s office in the Zhanghai skyscraper once again. Talk about never getting used to something. As always, she arrived in an empty suite. The eyes of long-ago heroes stared down at her, following her every movement. Her heart hammered home like a drum. She hadn’t committed treason in the cafe. Definitely not. She was simply examining her life, a central tenet of Restorationism. And it’s not like Caesar would know, except Babs immediately pushed that thought down. There were rumors Caesar could read minds and utilize powers like remote viewing to gaze at any place in Arcadia at any time - as if the whole country was made out of glass buildings.
Caesar emerged from the kitchen area.
Unlike when he departed, no stardust appeared when his astral projection arrived in an area. There were rumors, too, that the astral projection could appear anywhere in Arcadia. If all the rumors were true, then Caesar was omnipotent, omniscience, all-knowing - a deity in human flesh, if she could even call his flesh human. It looked too smooth for it, like an artisan had crafted it. Magnificence radiated out of him; he gave her a polite nod of greeting, then prepared a cup of tea for her.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
The two sat in silence. He watched her take small sips; Babs tried to keep her heart from racing any faster. Before she could finish, Haneda walked through the door. He and Babs gave each other confused looks; she had been told this would be a one-on-meeting with Caesar. Evidently, so had he.
Caesar rose from his seat. “Come,” he ordered, directing them to the back of the suite. They stepped through glass doors onto a long balcony that overlooked the city; buildings rose into the sky ahead of them. He gestured for them to take a look; as they did, he stepped behind them. A tiny spark of red appeared in the corner of Babs’ eye; when Caesar touched the glass doors, they rumbled and steamed and transformed into a solid wall of steel. No way out, just like that.
Haneda exchanged a glance with Babs. So did Caesar, but then he fully turned his attention to Babs’ mentor.
“The Navy has discovered three smuggling dens these past two months,” Caesar began. “Seventeen of our associates have died, two million in property has been seized, and multiple smuggling routes have been eliminated. You’ve been aiding them, haven’t you?”
Babs went pale. She gave Haneda a reluctant look, expecting to see fear on his face. Instead, he remained as stoic as ever.
Good, because he has nothing to hide-
“I did,” Haneda plainly answered. Babs felt a violent lurch in her stomach.
No way-
“I’m not mad,” Caesar said calmly. “I’m just disappointed. Why would you do that?”
For the first time, Babs saw emotion rise in Haneda. He spoke with a clenched fist. “I couldn’t allow the poisoning of our country to continue. If this is how we achieve utopia, then why would I believe that utopia would be any better? If you’re able to see people as mere pawns now, then you will continue to see them as pawns.” He placed a hand across his heart. “I believe in the Restoration. I believe in utopia. But I don’t believe in killing innocents. And I don't believe in you. You claim to know everything. Yet the wise man is one who knows he knows nothing.”
The world below the balcony seemed to teeter below them. Babs had never seen anybody defy Caesar before. Her mentor’s words made her legs weak; she unconsciously grabbed onto the railing for support.
“There are many things I don’t know,” Caesar admitted. “But there are empirical facts that I know for certain.” He took a step forward; Haneda didn’t budge, but Caesar still looked at him like an amusement on a long ride. “I’m the oldest human on this planet. And I have spent every day of this long life learning. There are certain undeniable facts, patterns in the winds of time, that appear when your lifespan has been elongated. Much of this country can be described as dead weight. Kallipolis will be a healthy state, so the weak must be eliminated. If they will be inevitably be culled in the future, there is no difference in doing it today. And by doing it today, I can also make a profit off them and use the money for our utopia. I can do that, or I can sit back and allow mankind to feast upon itself, allow the masses of the weak to pull down the strong, preventing our race from achieving the greatness it’s capable of. If you want to fly, you must let go of everything that weighs you down. Clearly, we're only capable of evolving when under the right leadership.”
“You?” Haneda supposed.
Caesar nodded. “Me.”
That seemed to settle things. Babs flinched when Caesar raised a hand, but he only touched the railing. A section of metal immediately detached itself; as he held it in a delicate hand, the metal transformed into a sharp spear.
“I have no fear of dying for what I know is right,” Haneda proclaimed. “Kill me if you wish.”
Babs’ reflection appeared in the spear. “I will not be killing you,” Caesar said. “She will.”
Haneda’s stoic expression changed in an instant. Caesar held the spear out to Babs; frozen with shellshock, the weight and cold of the metal in her hands barely registered. Caesar stepped out of the way, allowing Babs to face her mentor. In the confined space of the balcony, there was little she could do. Nowhere to go, nowhere to run.
Time slowed down. Birds flew by, soaring through the sky. Perhaps the sun started to set - Babs couldn’t tell. With a face full of sorrow, Haneda eyed the spear, then gave Babs a tender look.
He betrayed us. But he’s a good man. He’s not just my mentor. He’s my friend. This is wrong. Caesar is wrong. He’s never wrong, but he has to be in this case. Should I kill him instead? I can’t. He’s just an astral projection. But I can’t kill Haneda, so I have to try, even if it kills me.
Sweat dripped down her temples. Her knuckles turned white around the spear. She knew Caesar was to her left; her eyes never left Haneda. His widened with understanding.
Haneda raised a gentle hand. “Babs. I’m proud of you. Remember that.”
The spear never moved. Instead, Haneda slipped over the railing, down towards the city below.
The metal pole rattled against the balcony floor when Babs dropped it. She immediately lunged towards the railing, her hand outstretched, but it was in vain. He was already far beyond the railing by the time Babs reached over it. His body gradually grew smaller and smaller as it fell towards the ground.
Despite it all, she had a sudden moment of clarity.
Ah, I see. Kallipolis depends on having a just ruler. Caesar is not that man. He remains untouchable because of his cultivation. So I’ll just have to match him. And becoming a cultivator means being able to do the impossible. If we lived in a normal world, I wouldn't need to be a cultivator. But the world is changing. I need to match it. Cultivation doesn't give you wisdom. It doesn't give you knowledge. It doesn't give you leadership. But it can damn well give you personal power, and if I'm ever gonna save Haneda and kill Caesar, then I'll need it.
The change felt instantaneous. The world never felt lighter and brighter. She could feel a pleasant burning sensation in her lungs; when she took her next exhale, the air moved the way she wanted it to. She immediately sent it downwards, that blast of air funneling and churning and racing down the side of the building. For a brief moment, she really did think she had him.
But he had already hit the ground. A few screams reached up the balcony. Babs stumbled away from the railing, her back hitting the steel wall, leaving just her and Caesar to watch the sunset.
“How bold of him,” he merely said. “He already knows I’ve sunk my claws deep into the Army, and the State Police too much of an insular group, so he went to the Cultivator Marines of the Navy. He must think a Naval investigation of our smuggling would lead back to me. How quaint. I have ways of dealing with the Navy, too.”
He raised a hand and snapped his fingers. A moment later, Babs heard a muffled explosion off in the distance, somewhere deep downtown. A plume of black smoke soon rose into the sky.
“That takes care of the investigation,” Caesar concluded. “The head of the Cultivator Marines is no more. His successor, stepping into that landmine of an office, will think twice about continuing the smuggling investigation, even if his fallen predecessor leaves behind a trail of paperwork. If I play my cards right, I could even get the Army to influence them into appointing Spinelli as head of the Cultivator Marines. Then we’ll be secure for good.”
He touched the steel wall; Babs felt it transform back into glass. That’s the only thing she could feel at the moment.
“Congratulations on becoming a cultivator,” Caesar said. “The horizons of your potential knowledge has just been widened by a great deal. Love Caesar, follow Caesar into death, and a peace for all time will be yours.”