Ravela ran her finger along the edge of the heavy paper. Ramiel Roice, Certified Police Officer, State of Laeyon, it read in big, bold letters.
A piece of paper, Ravela mused, denoted her ability and training to perform duties in a profession. No data chip was implanted in her hand that identified all she was and all her capabilities. She wondered how secure society was with pieces of paper signifying people’s abilities.
The room was full of now-certified citizens who were about to become police officers of Pliada City shortly. It was now just a question of which precinct. Ravela tore her eyes off her certificate, leaving the explorations of a paper trail society for another time.
She waited, like everybody else, for the instructors to come back with the lists of precincts with open positions. Ravela knew that they wouldn’t get the same lists. The choices open to them would be based on their grades and, by the sound of it, requests of individual precincts. Her results would afford her the luxury of a very free choice.
In contrast to that freedom stood Sheriff Thorn’s request. Ravela’s eyes wandered back to her certificate. She could go on and just join the central precinct. There was no doubt in her mind that they’d take her without hesitation, but was that the kind of person Ramiel Roice was?
What would someone do in this day and age? In the past, she had accepted the offer to leave the low level of the domed city without a moment of hesitation. She never looked back, never even questioned if anyone from her early years was still struggling in the pipes and maintenance shafts.
Ravela didn’t feel that way anymore. She had spent so much time on her own that getting to be among people again had changed her entire outlook on things.
She got pulled out of her thoughts by Instructor Harmond, who entered, followed by his assistants.
“Alright, big day, now, settle down, everybody.” He said while putting a small stack of papers down before him. “For us instructors, it is a horrible day. We will be taking these lists back after your particular badge gets the first pick at open jobs. They will have to be updated with fewer jobs on the list and then sent down the ranks. So, I want you all to simmer down a bit. This is important; this is serious, and at the end of it, the last to get the list might not have anything left to choose. That is why I’d like you to take a moment to appreciate the tremendous privilege you all earned by being this year’s top graduates.”
She looked around the room. The mood had considerably shifted. It had become considerably more sober. Ravela appreciated the new mood. It was more in line with her current thoughts.
Instructor Harmond nodded at the new atmosphere. “Then let’s get this over with. We will be handing out personalized lists. Feel free to talk to your fellow graduates. Maybe one or two of you wish to join the same precinct, and if you’re lucky, one or two of you just might get what you want. Now, mark your first choice on the list with a one and go downward in preference from there. When we get these lists back to the office, the officials will sort through all your choices, and starting from first to last will make your choices possible.”
While he was talking, his assistants put up a big map on the blackboard behind him.
“We’ve made it a bit easier for you to know where the precincts are. You’ll see them on this map. The red spots are the location, and the yellow lines are the precinct’s borders. Any questions?” Instructor Harmond waited for a moment and then continued. “Very well. Hop to it. I want to be home by dinner for at least one of these graduations. Let’s make it this one.”
Ravela smiled a little at the thought of Harmond tapping his foot with ever more intensity in every new classroom.
She got handed the list with her name on it. Glancing up at the map for a moment, Ravela confirmed what she was expecting. Twenty-one precincts were on the map and her list.
Pulling out her pen and bringing its tip close to the paper was the easy part. She hesitated before putting the one in the box. It wasn’t too late to just select the Central Precinct.
She looked at the map on the blackboard. The Sixth Precinct was still part of the central city. It wasn’t just highrises and industrial plants either. There were suburbs in there. Without a doubt, driving every morning would be much more manageable, too.
Ravela put down the Sixth Precinct as her first choice. Then, she marked four other districts equally close to her home before marking Central Precinct as the sixth choice. She wanted to be sure that someone wouldn’t give her the run-around and hand her to Central District because too many of the first columns wanted into the Sixth Precinct. Ravela had no reason to expect that to happen, but just to be sure, she had put the distance between the two choices.
She marked all the other precincts without preference either way. Standing up, Ravela walked to the front of the class to hand in her choices.
Kahli stopped Ravela just before reaching Instructor Harmond. “So, Ramiel, where will you be going?”
Ravela turned to his former partner. “We’ll be part of the PCPD no matter where we go, right? So, I think it doesn’t really matter. I assume you’re going to the Central Precinct, right?”
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Kahli raised an eyebrow at Ravela’s dodging of the question. “Central Precinct does sound great, but my father will be there, so I’ve been thinking about going a bit off-center if you know what I mean.”
Ravela smiled. “Yes, of course, you wouldn’t want to start work under your father.”
As she responded, she noticed Kahli’s eyes darting to something behind her for a second before she responded. “Exactly! Anyway, I didn’t mean to hold you. I am sure you can’t wait to get back to your house and continue your renovations.” Kahli said while turning around and walking quickly back to her seat.
Ravela narrowed her eyes. Looking back over her shoulder, she spotted Donna pretending to look at the map as though she didn’t know all the precincts by heart. There was a feeling of skepticism brewing within her as she walked the last few meters and handed off her paper to Instructor Harmond.
Walking toward the door, Ravela felt that there had just been a conspiracy that she hadn’t been a direct part of.
Instructor Harmond called out to her. “If I have to stay for the entirety of this process, you will have to stay at least until you get your precincts and contracts. I won’t write any letters for all those wishing to leave early, Mr. Roice. So please, take a seat.”
Ravela sighed. She had expected it but had hoped it could be avoided.
So much for the rest of the morning belonging to herself.
----------------------------------------
Morbolfr checked his watch for the fifth time.
Things had been going as planned ever since he had won over the Bomber. The other clans had been so thoroughly battered that they were exhausted.
Two months ago, he had suggested negotiating a deal with the Carthaginians while they were strong and still held all the cards. Back then, Beorg and Marduck had scolded him for his lack of ambition. Little did they know that merely bringing the idea up in their closed rounds was part of the ploy.
The idea had seen plenty of time to germinate on both sides of the war. The Bomber dutifully had played his part so far.
He was sitting with the other Clans in the same room, patiently waiting for Beorg and Marduk to finally bring the conversation to the topic they had been stewing on for months.
Morbolfr looked at his card and pursed his lips momentarily as he often did when he pretended to bluff. “I raise by thousand.”
Marduk scoffed. “Ever since we started playing cards, I realized something. Your luck is so bad that you had no choice but to become the cunning bastard that you are.” The old man paused and coughed before continuing. “Sure, I see your thousand and raise you another thousand.”
Morbolfr smiled with closed lips. “Well, it isn’t like you can’t influence your luck outside this card table.” He pushed his cards back to the middle of the table. “But what can you do about it here, eh?”
Marduk laughed, raking in the money he just won.
Beorg had sat silently, having folded his hand early in the round. His expression was contemplative.
With the recent prisoner escape organized by the Carthaginians and the suspicious prisoner transport of vigilantes that had been successfully stopped, Morbolfr had no doubt he was not playing the game at all. His mind was preoccupied with a very different game.
Beorg looked up, meeting his eyes. Morbolfr raises one eyebrow, asking the obvious question without speaking a word. They weren’t alone this time. There were a bunch of men in the bar surrounding them. The atmosphere was tense.
Morbolfr collected the cards since it was his turn to deal. He shuffled the cards without haste and trained routine.
“We can’t sustain this situation,” Beorg said after another minute of Morbolfr shuffling the cards.
He tilted his head a bit to the side in a non-commital response. Morbolfr wouldn’t be the one to say the unthinkable here with all the men present. The two other elders drinking tea together in earshot looked over. Morbolfr looked over at Marduk, the only actual elder sitting at their table.
“Agreed, but how would we even get into negotiations with the Carthaginians? They freed a good load of these new hotshots. What’s to say they don’t just dig in and wait us out at this point?” Marduk said with a scowl.
Morbolfr looked between the two of them. He would wait just a bit longer before saying anything.
“They can’t think their war will yield them anything. They started it and have been hit just as badly as us, if not worse. The fact that the Bomber,” Beorg spat out the name the press had given to Morbolfr’s most valuable asset like it was a curse. “just recruited or at the very least freed a number of these new vigilantes. They must know they will not be able to withstand them while fighting us. Hells, this all only started because they invaded our territory and attacked our businesses.”
Morbolfr studied the elder listening in on the other table. They were considering the options. It was time to steer the conversation. “If we leave the field to them, we will look weak. If we continue the fight as is, we’re stupid, is what you two are saying. But what if we manage to pull them into our combined organization? We could massively profit. Maybe we just need a chance for them to realize that our cause is their cause, their foe is our foe.”
Marduk glanced at him for a moment. “Leaving town is not an option. The losses would ripple out too far. This would lead to,” He paused, considering his next words wisely, “friction within. But maybe we could use the Bomber to rope the Carthaginians into a more profitable arrangement.”
Beorg leaned back in his chair while Morbolfr dealt the cards. Morbolfr put on a more neutral face, hiding his emotions.
“Where even would we meet? There is no place that I would be comfortable with jamming the entire leadership of the Clans and Carthaginians together. That is just asking for a catastrophe. And how would we even get the message through to their leadership?”
Morbolfr hummed acknowledgment while checking his cards. “If we met in broad daylight in a place full of kids, I doubt the Bomber would attack, even if he wanted to.”
Marduk narrowed his eyes. “Are you out of your mind? Trying to set up a meeting in the school district and barging our way in would trigger a massive police response. That’s a place we do NOT go for good reason.”
Morbolfr acted offended. “Of course not in the school district! Who do you take me for?” Morbolfr adjusted his suit jacket, giving them a moment to get hooked. “No, I am talking about arranging a very civil encounter on the fourth of July. Does the grand opening of the exhibition of ancient Rome ring a bell?”
He noticed multiple members of various clans roll their eyes. Of course, they knew there was hardly a billboard not advertising for it these days. The entire last week was spent with tourists and school classes from all over the nation streaming into the city, filling every hotel room. Perfect cover if you want to negotiate and guarantee smooth talks and some protection from the Bomber just busting in.”
“That’s,” Marduk started before pausing and thinking it through. “a great idea. What do you say? We let three of our boys pick up one of the Carthaginian lookouts and bring him here so he can deliver the invitation.”
Beorg nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds good. Alright, men, go pick someone up, but make sure you don’t injure them.”
There was some minor protest at the last part, but nobody would actually question Beorg’s authority or orders.
“Now, for the big questions. Who goes to represent their clan?” Marduk said thoughtfully.
Morbolfr kept his poker face while replying. “Seeing as you two want the negotiation to happen, I volunteer to inform Kotsai Kordo. I believe he has a right to partake. We wouldn’t want to settle one war to start another now, would we? In recognition of this great sacrifice, I’d ask that you don’t force me to be present during these talks,” Morbolfr continued. “I happen to have to be in court that day.”
Beorg nodded in agreement. “Very good, that will make our choice easier.”
Morbolfr looked at his cards again and pursed his lips a bit. All the pieces were moving into place. It didn’t even matter that the Bomber had started making moves to the side. The Carthaginians were providing countermeasures for him.
How lucky could one man be?