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Warped
Eleven

Eleven

The table was littered with tiny little plates, each previously filled with decadent bites of various desserts, some chocolates, some cakes, some rich and artistic creams with an exquisite flair. We had sampled some of each and every one, filled to the brim after the five course meal served to each guest. Add to that, the constant stream of champagne the waiters so graciously brought to us. It was a feast, of that there was no mistake.

I leaned back in my chair, entirely satisfied. I’d spent the whole evening intermittently dancing with Alyss, drinking, eating, and chatting with my family. I made a point of not thinking about Mea, and between all of the distractions I was fueling myself with, it seemed to be working. I felt absolutely content.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an announcement to make,” said the band’s singer through the microphone. “Your hosts would like to address you. Make some noise for our Chief of Police and Prime Minister!”

Everyone began clapping around us, following the singer’s lead. The lights dimmed everywhere but the stage, bringing into focus the approach of the Chief of Police, led by the Prime Minister, Robert Chetland. He cozied up to the microphone, ready to address the crowd. We had been waiting for this moment all evening, after all. I’d almost forgotten it was a charity ball for the police department, though – I’d been having so much fun.

“Good evening, my fine guests,” greeted Chetland. “I hope you’re all having a splendid time.” This was met with polite cheers, to which he smiled. “I’m glad we could all come together for this important issue. Right now, the police need all the help they can get in the wake of recent violence. May we take a moment of silence for the victims that have been claimed, and for their friends and families.”

Chetland closed his eyes, the rest of the crowd hushing in respect for the fallen.

“And now, I have nobody better to announce what measures we are taking to find and catch this killer than the Chief of Police himself, Bret Philiips.” Chetland stepped back from the microphone, softly clapped his hands in applause, while Chief Philips approached the microphone in his stead.

“I appreciate all of your generosity today,” Chief Philips said, his voice amplifying sharply, echoing against the marble. “In particular, Aruga United Technology, for donating the most substantial check this evening. Thank you, on behalf of all of us at the department.”

Everyone clapped their hands in applause, the spotlight now hovering over Zack Bateman and Jakob Mentel, who graciously were applauding themselves, as well. I rolled my eyes.

“Citizens, official as of this evening, we have a new law to go into effect immediately. It is our hope that it will allow us to catch this killer.”

The crowd hushed to a dead silence, barely even breathing. My eyes, and everyone else’s, were glued onto the stage, onto the Chief.

“Those without full citizenship are now suspect to a stop and search at our discretion,” Chief Philips said gravely and seriously. “We cannot afford to be lenient and too trusting any longer, and we will make no exceptions. We will find this killer, and the ability to fully search more suspects is the key to doing so.”

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The crowd applauded once more, cheers of relief and hope filling the room. Personally, I felt a little conflicted. I knew what he meant by ‘those without full citizenship’ – the Nari’e were the only ones, aside from visitors on work visas, who would fall under that category.

The police must think the killer is Nari’e, I figured, as they’re clearly targeting them as their most suspicious group of people. Though, the news had been saying that the police had no leads, obviously they just didn’t want to show all of their cards. I couldn’t blame them for that. Several people have been killed, with no suspect to show for it. I could understand why the police would want to turn up the heat; I couldn’t deny that I felt a little bit better knowing that the police had a little bit more power in their hands. Maybe, they’d find more about this killer, and we all would be safe once more. If not, I worried about who might be next.

Thinking morbidly about this disturbing thought, I glanced over at my father. He had been mostly chatting around all evening with many of his peers, most of the attendees this evening, and only just now did I get a chance to really take a look at him. He had told me he was sick, and it was clear when I gave him a closer examination. His eyes were still tired, though he had tasteful amounts of makeup on, just enough to hide it. You wouldn’t have known he was sick, or wearing any powder on his face, if you weren’t actively looking for it.

He sat back in his chair, his arm on the back of Cerise’s chair, and though his smile said he was happy, he looked exhausted, in my opinion. Though, I hoped I knew him better than most of the other people here, as his son. Would they notice his decline in health? Would it have an effect on his politics, the deals he was trying to make?

“Raise your glasses to the police department!” bid Robert Chetland, who had taken the microWaComm back after Chief Philips’ announcement. “Everyone, please continue having a wonderful, lovely evening. Cheers.”

The party continued on as it had been, the band resuming its play, people getting back on the dance floor, and waiters flitting about and filling drinks. I stayed at the table, sitting there with my family and Alyss, pondering what the future may bring. Does the end justify the means? Does this stop and search law bring us the peace and safety that we so crave? I barely noticed anything around me, lost in my thoughts, sipping at the flute of champagne I’d been nursing throughout dinner.

I couldn’t help but worry, the conflict in my heart concerned. We needed to catch this killer, but was it worth the price of personal and individual liberty? I wasn’t sure. It was a matter of public safety, and those who weren’t guilty had nothing to hide. The alcohol blurred my brain, numbing the sharpness of those painful and difficult dilemmas that plagued me. I welcomed the numbness, drinking more and more.

I looked up to see Cerise watching my father with concern. He was breathing heavily, his knuckles white as he clutched his own arm. Was he alright?

“It’s late, darlings,” Cerise said quietly, addressing me and Alyss. “Care to join us at the mansion tonight? We have plenty of guest rooms for your convenience,” she whispered, eyes on Alyss, the last part addressed to her in particular. Of course, I had a room in the mansion. I used to live there, after all.

Alyss nodded politely. “I would be honored. Whenever you would like to leave, I am ready.”

Cerise nodded in turn. “I believe the sooner the better. I’m rather fatigued. Shall we?”

I stood, turned to Alyss, and helped her from her chair, while Cerise did a similar thing with my father. I could see out of the corners of my eyes that he was struggling to stand without shaking, the determination to appear healthy and hale in front of his peers taking all of his willpower. I only hoped it wasn’t as obvious to everyone else as it was to me.

We left the party in a quiet retreat, bidding respectful, nonverbal goodbyes as we passed through the ballroom. I told myself that everything would be okay.