Hadrian's Rage (3 page)

I met Private Frank Hunter two days after his sentencing to “life service” defending “the Wall.” I was immediately struck by his stolid composure. He didn't have any “chip” on his shoulder about what had happened with the late Mr. Todd Middleton. There were no signs of remorse or grief. His expression remained blank throughout the interview—the perfect poker face—giving me the impression I was looking into the eyes of a cold-hearted killer, qualities no doubt useful in a soldier, but not in a soldier who wishes to retain his humanity. This unique trait is rather disconcerting when witnessed in one so young. Private Hunter was also taciturn—another useful trait in a soldier, but one also reflecting a lack of any social skills. I was assigned with other command training officers to evaluate his ability to integrate into the Hadrian Defense Force, become a soldier, and to find out what abilities and talents could be used in training him in the right areas of said training. We know he is willing to kill strais, so I am suggesting we train him as a wall sniper. His full physical evaluation reveals to us a youth in prime condition; his school report identified him as an athlete in track, basketball, and volleyball, thereby collaborating that fact. His height, 6' 4”, was, and is, a clear advantage. He has a sturdy, muscular physique so no “whipping into shape” is needed. Instead, we will allow him the opportunity to create his own physical regime to maintain the necessary weight and strength required of a wall soldier. Unfortunately, he was not a member of the wrestling team in high school so he will need the basic training required for hand-to-hand combat.

Tryouts used to be such an exciting time for Devon Rankin, but this year, he can't help but wonder why he even showed up at all.

The previous year's tryouts had certainly been exhilarating, for Devon Rankin had spent the summer leading up to his grade eleven year training with his then boyfriend Todd Middleton. With Todd Middleton's guidance and advice, Devon was finally senior team material. Not only had he made the team, but he had earned the coveted position of first string along with Pride High's top players, Todd Middleton, Frank Hunter, and Crystal Albright.

This year's team is not so winning. Only two players from the first string remain, Devon and Millicent. Millicent is good, but of the five starters from last year, she was the weakest, and from the look of the extra weight she has put on since the last season, Devon sees little hope for his senior year b-ball team. Todd Middleton is dead, and that bastard Frank, who murdered him, is incarcerated at the Southwest Gate serving a life sentence in Hadrian's military. And Albright,
Crystal fucking Albright
, she gets to prance around the school as if nothing bad happened, as if her perfect little world had no impact on the lives of others. Every time Devon sees her in the halls, he has to fight back the urge to strangle her.

Devon goes through phases of wishing they'd let Frank drink henbane, exile him and—oddly, Devon can't figure this one out—feeling glad Frank suffered neither of the only two fates doled out in Hadrian's criminal justice system. Confused and rankled by Frank's sentence, Devon couldn't help but sneer. Though true that Todd Middleton had asked Frank to help him commit suicide, and also true that Todd had been raped and put through an incredible amount of emotional torture while in reeducation, Devon still saw Frank's act of suffocating his boyfriend—his?—mine or
Frank's?—as murder in the first degree. Devon was always angry these days. Not just because it appeared that Frank got away with murder, but Todd's girlfriend, Crystal
fucking
Albright, the girl Todd was accused of raping, though never proved, the girl who helped expose Todd and who refused to deny the accusation of rape, is also getting off scot-free. Devon scoffs, the same morning after Todd was pulled from class, Ms. Sterne, their math teacher (and Crystal's aunt) brought in Hadrian's prosecuting attorney, Graham Sabine, to warn the class about the need for secrecy.
Man
, Devon remembers,
he gave us quite the song and dance about protecting the victim, and boy did we fall for it. Crystal was playing it up, sitting there in her desk, bawling her pretty little eyes out with all the girls cooing and comforting her. And we all signed those fucking waivers. I can't even tell my moms without breaking the law. That fucking little bitch,
Devon thought then and still believes now,
is the main reason Todd Middleton is dead and I can't tell a God damn soul! I hate her, but she sure as fuck isn't worth getting exiled over. That fucking little—

Devon hasn't even the time to finish his internal curse because Crystal Albright walks into the gym dressed for tryouts. Devon stares incredulously. The coach, who was just about to blow the whistle to get everyone's attention, has also stopped dead in her tracks, her whistle poised ready at her open mouth. Silence strikes a deafening blow in the gym as all the students gape at Crystal's entrance.

“What?” she queries defensively.

Crystal's anger and derision slam into Devon like a punch in the stomach. He grunts and, after gaining composure, swears. He had been taking practice shots prior to Crystal's entrance and is now holding one of the b-balls scattered around the gymnasium for tryouts. Swiveling on his toes, he throws the ball with all his might across the gymnasium, slamming it into the far wall, the smacking of the ball reverberating throughout the gym and the ball bounces until it rolls and comes to a stop on the opposite side of the gym. The ball remains the only movement and sound as everyone stares at Crystal. Some look at her with a mixture of pity and disgust, one or two smile at her audacity, and one, Millicent, Crystal's girlfriend in their grade ten year, looks upon her with pity and remorse. Devon's expression is hate; seething hate! The feelings he has for this girl and the role she played in the demise of Todd Middleton cannot be expressed in words, more so the pity for Devon, for if he could at least articulate how he was feeling, then his emotions wouldn't be rotting away and corroding
him from the inside. With anger boiling deep inside, words burst out of Devon like a geyser exploding. “What the fuck is she doing here?” Turning now to the coach, he expostulates, “There is no fucking way I'll play on the same team as that bitch!” The last thing Devon expected was for Crystal Albright to presume she was still a part of Todd Middleton's team, for Todd's team it was and will be as long as Devon Rankin has any say in the matter.

Although this attack was expected and Crystal appears to remain calm and in control, her insides have turned to jelly and her knees feel weak. In as cool and controlled a manner as she can muster, Crystal reminds Devon, “You don't get to make that decision, Rankin.”

Crystal's words stir up something inside of Coach Miller who, instead of sanctioning Devon Rankin for his outburst, takes one determined step towards the young woman before saying, “That's right.” The coach cannot help but study the face of the young woman who destroyed the life of her star player, and, although she only surmises the young woman's role, Rankin's outburst confirms her suspicion. The students in Ms. Sterne's math class may have signed waivers and none will risk exile by revealing the truth, but that hasn't stopped the rumor mill from turning its wheel over the river gossip. Coach Miller has heard much and believes all. “I do. And Rankin and I are like-minded. I will not coach a team with you on it.”

Crystal is stunned. She never dreamed her coveted role on the team could be swiped from her. “But I'm your best player.”

“Was, were, one of my best players.” She stops momentarily as if to ponder, “The other two, hmm, where are they?” Now with sarcasm thick and dripping, Coach Miller adds, “Oh, yeah, Todd is dead and Frank is imprisoned in the military!” Glaring at Crystal with hate enough to rival Devon, she concludes, “No, Miss Albright, I will not be coaching you.”

“You have to,” Crystal sputters. “My mothers…”

The coach now bears down on the girl. “I don't give a rat's ass who your mothers are.” Few people know that Crystal Albright's mama is President Stiles. “They can fire me for all I care. I will never coach you again.”

Stunned by this violent outburst against her, Crystal backs up, tripping slightly on her heels before turning and running out of the gym.

No one saw Crystal Albright again. It was rumored that she had transferred to Virginia Woolf High, following her aunt, Ms. Sterne, who had taken a job teaching math at the illustrious high school, but when Devon
later investigated Crystal's whereabouts, he had some odd sadistic need to know what had happened to her; she was not registered, and no one, not even Millicent or Lolita, Crystal's exes, had any idea where she had gone. It was as if Crystal Albright had vanished off the face of the earth. She had effectively hidden herself deep inside the bowels of Hadrian. The only upside to this horrible experience was that the coach had somehow managed to escape dismissal.

As my transfer to the Midwest Gate was recently approved, I requested that Private Frank Hunter be transferred with me so I can continue working with this extraordinary youth and participate in his reviews. Although Lieutenant-General Pauloosie was reluctant to release the private, General Birtwistle considered my request and readily agreed. It took little convincing considering Private Hunter was amongst the first of the recruits to complete effectively phase one of his marksmanship training. He has become the fastest in his company at disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling his weapon. He has excelled in all safe handling procedures as well as skillfully loading and unloading his weapon.
5
During his arms training, Private Hunter surpassed the required scores, with very high marks in both close range pistol shooting and long range rifle shooting. He is a “natural” marksman and has completed his training with Expert status. Private Hunter is also seen and respected as a leader. His fellow recruits often turn to him for advice and assistance, and Private Hunter has never been known to refuse aid to any of them. Combined, these behaviors put him in an elite group for consideration in Defense Sniper School training, to include physical training, hand-to-hand combat (offense/defense), combat tactics, defense strategy planning, and emergency medical care. He is excellent officer material (with one obvious exception: Private Hunter refuses to interact with anyone when not on duty), though present laws and the sentence given to him do prevent his promotion to officer rank.

As one of twenty-six gate area-training officers at HDFA, I have assigned Private Hunter to Gate 4 Defense Area (Lt-General Birtwistle, Commander). Though Private Hunter is restricted by the tactile tattoo restraint, he has performed said duties well. He has excelled in marksmanship (pistol and rifle), guerrilla tactics, and strategy planning. He works well with others and is highly thought of as one of our best Defense Snipers. Regardless of the overall respect held towards Private Hunter, some fellow defenders of Hadrian’s Wall, due to his “penal restriction” status, often avoid him. It is also noteworthy that Private Hunter in no way seeks camaraderie amongst his fellow soldiers. When off duty, he isolates himself from others. When not engrossed in historical texts found in the military library museum, Private Hunter is often seen running long distances, and putting himself through continued, extensive physical training. Private Hunter recently scored the highest award in physical combat training in the Advance Defense Sniper School at the Hadrian Defense Academy for Enlisted Personnel. During the annual physical training evaluation (running, strength, endurance, offense, defense, arms/weapons), he was awarded the second highest score possible. Again, I would recommend him for promotions in rank were it not for the “penal restriction” limiting him to private.

Dean knows he is being cowardly, yet he cannot bring himself to say the words face-to-face. They had fought again last night. Dean told Geoffrey that he hated him, and the look of anguish that sprung onto his lover’s face was unbearable. Dean had to turn and look away. The last words that Geoffrey spoke were soft and bitten with remorse. “Well, then, Dean, if that’s the way you feel, I guess you better leave me.” Geoffrey turned and left the living room. Dean kept his back turned but waited quietly for Geoffrey to return. Self-recrimination swirled within the delay.
What must Geoffrey see in me?
he wondered.
What must he be feeling? Anger? Hatred? Remorse?
Turning now, Dean walked towards the hallway to stare down what now appeared to be a vast emptiness towards their bedroom. The door was closed. Dean hadn’t even heard Geoffrey shut it. Dean suddenly realized it wasn’t their bedroom anymore. Knowing he could not go back in there, he had chosen to sleep in Frank’s bed last night.

Even knowing the words he had uttered the night before were lies, Dean cannot bring himself to take them back.
Geoffrey is angry and rightfully so
, he reminds himself. Just as he had tried to talk Dean out of testifying at Gideon Weller’s trial, Geoffrey was now trying to convince Dean not to pursue suing Hadrian’s government for damages committed against heterosexuals incarcerated at the Northeast Reeducation Camp. That Geoffrey keeps trying to talk him out of taking legal recourse is hurtful, and Dean isn’t sure whether he can forgive the man. In his heart of hearts, Dean knows Geoffrey’s reasoning is out of love.
He doesn’t want me to have to relive the horrors of reeducation.
But the way Geoffrey worded his concern was inappropriate. “There are,” he had said, “plenty of men crawling out of the woodwork willing to testify.” Geoffrey never should have worded it that way; those words, they suggested Dean and the other men abused by
Gideon Weller were somehow acting in an unseemly manner, even though Dean knew that was not what Geoffrey had meant; he had even tried to take the words back, but to no avail. Some things said can never be unsaid.
All Geoffrey really wanted to express
, Dean suggests to himself,
is his fear that I’m putting myself through a hideous emotional trial
. Geoffrey even attempted to express this when he had shouted, “How can any man live with so much anguish, despair and hate?” Dean shudders as he remembers his reaction, a wild scream having emerged from his breast, “But I need to do this!”
Why can’t Geoffrey understand? I need to heal and I won’t be able to until that bastard is finally exiled and the government acknowledges its role in the wrongs committed against Hadrian’s heterosexual citizens.

Dean feels an insurmountable amount of hatred towards Gideon Weller, and although justified, it is beyond the bounds of reason. Gideon Weller had been the warden of the Northeast Reeducation camp where Dean had been sentenced after being caught kissing a girl. It was also the camp where Todd Middleton had been incarcerated for having been a sexually active heterosexual as well as accused of—but never proven—rape. Todd Middleton was the sixth supposedly active heterosexual youth who had been accused of rape who had successfully committed suicide while under the command of Gideon Weller. The reason why these young men had committed suicide came to light during Frank Hunter’s trial. Gideon Weller had raped each one under the auspice of having performed “medicinal intercourse.” In every case, he had claimed the youth in question had requested sexual intercourse to help him learn to accept Hadrian’s chosen sexual orientation, but Dean knew better and so did Weller’s henchman, Darrell Jeffreys. Faial Raboud, Frank’s lawyer, had successfully got the man to confess the truth at Frank’s trial. This confession was the basis for Gideon Weller’s trial, and Dean felt obligated to testify against the man who had made his own life a living hell and who had intentionally worked to destroy the boy Dean loved like a son, his best friend Will Middleton’s boy, Todd Middleton. Dean had promised Will on his deathbed to look after Todd, but he had failed. Now Todd was dead and Dean felt responsible. He had to make sure the man who really killed Todd, not Frank, but Weller, suffered the severest penalty of the law: exile or assisted suicide. In Hadrian, there are only two sentence options for anyone convicted of a crime, and for Dean, not even death was good enough for Gideon Weller. Now that Weller had been convicted, the country waited with bated breath
for his decision: exile or death. Dean did not want Weller to choose death, to drink the poison Hadrian’s government cultivated for those who could not bear facing life outside Hadrian’s Wall. He wanted Weller to be exiled. Government propaganda was clever enough to have everyone, including those who saw holes in the system’s management, convinced that life outside of Hadrian was nothing short of hell. With a planet overflowing with human population, it was relatively easy for Hadrian’s satellite system to collect countless horror stories about the squalor of life for billions living outside Hadrian’s Wall. Images of skeletal bodies, wasted corpses, warring over life-sustaining land, even cannibalism have made their way into Hadrian’s propaganda machine, leaving little room for doubt that the citizens of Hadrian are living in an enclosed utopia and anyone who fights against its rules is a fool deserving of death or exile.

Too many thoughts are running through Dean’s mind, rendering him incapable of making sense of who he is, what he wants, or what he needs to do. All he knows is that he can no longer live a life of lies. As a result, he has decided to leave Geoffrey, the man he has been married to for twenty-four years; the man he loves but will no longer allow himself to hold. He must go. Dean’s grandmother, Destiny Stuttgart, or “Mimi” to Dean, has offered him a home. He will take her up on this offer. She lives in Augustus City, having moved there during the city’s rebuilding. Using her status as a founding mother, Destiny Stuttgart helped the fraught and careworn city raise itself up out of the ashes—nuclear ashes—like the phoenix reborn. Even with Mother Stuttgart’s presence, Augustus City continues to suffer the stigma of that fateful day, 6-13, when a Christian fanatic drove across the border and exploded a dirty nuclear bomb, destroying most of the city and killing Hadrian citizens in the hundreds of thousands. One victim was Dean’s best friend, Will Middleton. He had been working just south of Augustus city when the bomb exploded. Though he suffered no immediate damage, the cancer came shortly after. Years of battling the wasting disease had sucked his family of all financial resources until at last he died, leaving his son to be raised by a bitter, discontented man unable to bear the loss of his partner. And though Dean had done all within his power to protect Todd, he had failed the youth. The boy ended up suffering the same fate he had, being incarcerated in the Northeast Reeducation Camp under the tutelage of one Gideon Weller.

And now, with all these thoughts muddied over the love he once felt for
Geoffrey, Dean chooses to leave. He chooses to leave while Geoffrey is at work. He made no mention of this the night before when they had fought. His last words being “I hate you” and Geoffrey’s being “You better leave me.” And this morning when he woke up, Dean knew that was exactly what he was going to do. Blinking open his vocal contact lens, Hadrian’s main means of communication, and staying connected to the country’s information wave, Dean selects the timed pin messaging system. This allows him to record a message to Geoffrey and “pin it” to Geoffrey’s messaging system but with a time delay so Geoffrey isn’t notified immediately. Most people use this system for sending birthday cards, congratulations, and the like; rarely is it used to send someone bad news. Dean, aware of this incongruity, knows the “pin” will cause his lover even greater pain, but he simply cannot summon up the courage to tell Geoffrey to his face, so, Dean chooses five o’clock for the message to be received. The message simply states, “I took your advice. I’m leaving.” Feeling that is too curt, he decides to add, “I’m going to stay with Mimi. She thinks she can get me into Augustus Uni. I always wanted to study medicine.” He wants to say “Love, Dean,” but that just feels cruel, so he doesn’t even sign off. By the time Geoffrey reads the message, Dean will be on Hadrian’s Public Tram, making his way south to Augustus City, where he will begin to reconstruct his life.