Charlie Huston: No Dominion

– Right.

He takes a big sip of his gunk, ponders a moment, then lays it out.

– Now if things were different, if you were still a member, there’d be a few more options. There’d be, you know, emergency funds and such that could be tapped. But for a Rogue, even one like you, one we like to think of as an ally? Well, the politics of charity are more complicated than they should be.

– That an offer?

His mouth drops open a little.

– An offer?

– You asking me to come back?

He waves his cup.

– Joe. If you wanted to come back in, all you’d have to do is ask, man.

He sips again, watching me through the steam rising off his cup.

– Well I’m not asking.

– Too bad, man. Too bad.

– Besides, you got yourself a security chief. What would you need me around for?

He sets the cup on the table.

– Your ego need stroking, Joe? Self-esteem been suffering? Need an old friend to tell you how much you meant to the cause?

I stand up.

– You’re not my friend.

I start for the door.

He talks to my back.

– Actually, I am. More of a friend than you know. And I can prove it.

I stop.

– How’s that?

– Have a seat.

I stay on my feet.

– Joe, have a seat, man. And tell me about that deal at Doc Holiday’s last night.

I stay by the door.

– Guy was spazzing on something and I took care of him before he could cause more of a scene. Why do you care?

He picks up his cup.

– Because he was one of ours.

– Why should I care?

He takes a sip, swallows, smiles.

– Because maybe there’s a job in it. For the right man.

I take a seat.

Something happens on Society turf, Terry knows about it. Fourteenth to Houston, Fifth Avenue to the East River, if it happens on those blocks, Terry will hear. Especially if it involves anything having to do with the Vyrus. That kind of stuff is very close to the Society’s whole charter: their ultimate goal of integrating the infected with the general population. That’s Terry’s personal daydream: uniting all the Clans, bringing together a population of Vyrally infected individuals that is large enough to have a political identity. He thinks that if he can bring us aboveground, we’ll be able to get the resources of the world behind finding a cure for the Vyrus. It’s a nice thought, I even believed in it for awhile myself, then I woke up. We go public, the world community is gonna take note all right. They’re gonna take note and start opening concentration camps.

But the man dreams on. And he keeps a tight watch on anything that surfaces down here, anything that might upset his long-term plans. Plans that I sometimes think have nothing at all to do with all that Society party-line BS.

– So everyone saw you ride off with the guy?

– Yeah.

– And the cops were on their way?

– Yeah, but it won’t make a difference. The bartenders know they owe me one for getting The Spaz out of there. Anyone else who maybe knows my name knows better than to mention it to the cops.

– What about the citizens?

– What do they know? Big guy dealt with The Spaz. Took him away in a cab. What the cops gonna do with that?

He stares into his cup, looking at the sludge that’s settled at the bottom.

– Yeah, yeah, I can see that. Still, I wish you hadn’t dealt with him so harshly.

– Harshly? Guy was a troublemaker. Figured you’d be happy to have him off your turf.

– In principle, yes. But he was a pledged Society member. That makes it, you know, just a little more complicated. I mean, sure, we’re completely opposed to any overt acts of violence against the noninfected population. Any behavior that will increase anti-Vyral bias when we go public is an issue. But he was pledged, and we have a protocol for dealing with these things. Ideally, we would have, you know, liked to have seen him subdued and brought to us. We could have maybe gotten him down, mellowed him out, found out what was up. Then, you know, depending on the circumstances, there might have been a tribunal kind of a thing, to determine if he had acted irresponsibly. After that, sure, there might have been a punishment phase. But, you know, vigilantism…that’s never been a tactic we’ve endorsed.

– Funny, I seem to remember you endorsing plenty of my vigilantism when I worked for you.

He looks at me over the tops of his lenses.

– Be fair, Joe. Technically, that wasn’t vigilantism. You were enforcing Society doctrine back then. That’s just worlds different from this case.

– I don’t remember too many tribunals, Terry. I just remember you taking me aside and whispering names in my ear.

– Well. Well, that’s true.

He gets up, walks to the sink and dumps his dregs down the drain.

– But that was a different era. Due process wasn’t a luxury we could really afford back then. And we do things differently now.

– Uh-huh. Not whispering in Tom’s ear, Terry? That what you telling me? Murder by decree out of style?

He rinses his cup, puts it on the dish rack, leans his hip against the sink and looks at me.

– Look, Joe, let’s not dig into some irresolvable past issues. There’s no benefit to anyone in going that route. Did we have a different way of doing things back then? Sure we did. But that has no bearing on things today. Living in the past. That’s not healthy, that’s not how you get things done. And the Society is all about getting things done. Anyone can talk, but it takes action to change the world.

I think about the building around us, the tenement that he has managed to legally purchase through whatever series of blinds and cutouts. I think about the other properties the Society has locked up down here. I think about the partisans he has bunked out in the barracks upstairs, the soldiers he can mobilize. And I think about the way it used to be, back in the seventies when I came on the scene, just ten years after the Society was born, after Terry’s little Downtown revolution had forced the Coalition to concede this territory.

It was different back then: Coalition spooks everywhere; scrapping with the smaller Clans to keep the turf intact; trying to build our own major Clan out of the fringe elements: the socialists, the women’s libbers, the anarchists, whoever else would listen. Terry had the numbers when I got infected, but he had a hell of a time keeping them all pointed in the same direction. I did more than my share in getting them all unified, had more than my share of names whispered in my ear. I know what kind of action it takes to change the world, all right.

– Sure thing, Terry. I got no interest in talking old times. So why don’t you cut to the chase? Tell me what you want.

He pushes away from the sink and comes back to the table.

– That’s it, man, that’s it, right on. Let’s get grounded in the now.

He sits down.

– So here’s the deal. Let’s just say that no one really knows much about this particular situation right now and we can kind of talk about it in pretty simple terms. OK? Talk about it more as a social concern than as a Society security issue.

– Fine by me.

– Great, that’s great. So that guy last night, and spaz isn’t really the term I’d like to use, but, in any case, he was, you know, pretty much a kid. In all senses, I mean. Young in years and also just very recently infected.

– So he was a new fish.

– That’s right. And you know how they are, the new ones, they need lots of supervision. I mean, sure, some people, you, for instance, some people take to it right away. Others, they need some help adapting. This one, he was still in the adapting phase. Not even supposed to be out on his own yet.