First Draft Chapter 35

I dropped by David’s room one evening, to find David gone and Helen there instead. She broke into a wide smile when she saw me. Her face was as soft and beautiful as ever. I fumbled for a minute at the door, surprised to see her. "Oh, hi Helen. Um, is, er, David in right now?"
"No, he’s at the town meeting," Helen replied cheerfully. The executive committee had decided to hold a series of town meetings where citizens could go to voice their concerns about the revolutionary government. I had gone to the first one, which Rosa had conducted, and found it painfully boring, and since then have avoided all the other ones. In fact I was surprised that David still had the stomach for them. This was the fifth or sixth one already. Didn’t he get sick of these after a while?
"You’re not going?" I asked Helen.
"No, I find those things so dull and dreary."
"Me too," I answered, excited that we had something in common.
"Have a seat if you want Jon." Helen patted the floor beside her. I almost didn’t believe I was going to have the privilege of sitting so close to her. I sat down. Our arms were so close together they were almost touching, and I could feel a slight tingle all along my arm. I could also smell the faint perfume she always wore. I also felt my tongue becoming heavy, and my head getting woozy. "So you don’t like those city meetings either?"
"No. I don’t know why anyone still goes to them. They’re so…" I struggled to find a word that adequately described my feelings, but in the end I had to settle for the overused word, "boring."
"Yes, I think so too." She stopped and gave me an examining look. "We really have a lot in common, don’t we?"
My heart began racing. "Yes I think we do."
She smiled. "You’re a good friend Jon." I was in ecstasy, but I was also worried. This had the potential of developing into an awkward moment. I needed to keep the conversation going.
"So what are you doing in David’s room by yourself?" I asked in my best conversational tone.
"I don’t know. Just sitting here and thinking. I don’t like my own room very much. It’s a little too familiar, you know? And plus my roommate is so loud. I can’t stand her sometimes."
"What are you thinking about?"
"Oh, just all the stuff that’s been happening lately." She made a slight pause, then looked me directly in the eyes. "Hey Jon, how’s your dad doing?"
"I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him since I quit FJC."
"But the revolution and everything? I mean he got out okay, didn’t he?"
"Yeah, of course. Didn’t you hear about it?" I would have thought somebody would have told her by now. I though all my friends knew.
"No I, I heard. I just wanted to hear you say it. My dad got out safely too."
"I forgot all about that," I said, amazed at my own forgetfulness. Her father was also a high official in Flash’s government. In fact he was in charge of all of Urbae’s Strates. "How did he feel about you being up on the barricades?"
"Oh don’t be silly Jon. I would never have told him I was there."
"But do you think he suspected?"
"No, he thinks I’m the perfect daughter." I suppose if I had a daughter like Helen, I would think she was perfect too.
I paused a while, unsure of whether or not it would be tasteful to bring up my next point of not. I ended up deciding to mention it. "It’s a bit ironic, don’t you think? The chief of the Strates is ordering his men to attack the barricades, not knowing his own daughter is one of the victims."
She suddenly became very defensive. "No, of course not Jon. My father is a peace loving man. He would never order something like that. Besides, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. Flash makes all those decisions. My father just takes care of internal matters."
I quickly apologized. She wasn’t upset at me, but I didn’t want her to become upset with me. "Yes, you’re right. I should have known that. So where is your father now?
"I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him since the revolution. He got out okay, so he must be all right. I hope." The last part was voiced much quieter than the rest.
"I’m sure he is," I reassured her.
"Sometimes I feel so caught in the middle," she went on. "I mean I believe in the cause and all, but why does everything have to happen so fast?"
I wanted to say something profound to comfort her, but I didn’t know myself. "I can’t think of anything to say to you," I answered at last.
She smiled again. "It’s okay Jon, I know. I like having you here just to talk to." I feel like I need to talk to someone about this stuff, and I can’t tell David."
"You can’t?"
"I can talk to David about almost everything, but the moment I start to question his ideals or the revolution, he starts to get real upset. He doesn’t even yell at me or anything. He never yells at me. But I can tell when he’s upset."
"Doesn’t he ever question the whole thing at times?"
She shook her head. I don’t think he’s ever been surer of anything in his life. He never questions Clodius or the revolution. Not even for a second. But sometimes I get so confused Jon, and I don’t know what to do." We sat in silence for a moment. She gave my arm a squeeze. Than you so much for listening to me Jon."
"No problem," I answered.
"And you won’t say anything about this to David, will you?"
"No, of course not." I was a little hurt that she had to ask.
"I’m sorry Jon. I know you won’t say anything. I just worry that," she paused, "that David might find out one day I’m not as dedicated as he is, and I think that would hurt his feelings a lot."
"You can count on me," I answered firmly.
"Oh, and Jon," Helen quickly added, "let me know if you ever hear from your Dad. I know you probably won’t but in case you do let me know. He might be with my dad."
"I’ll let you know," I reassured her.


The Revolutionaries were quickly beginning to realize how challenging the task of governing actually was. The Young Clodians had an ambitious agenda they wanted to push through the Senate, and Clodius talked of doing everything from abolishing the death penalty to establishing worker’s cooperatives in the industrial sector. But, before any of that could happen, someone needed to address the day to day concerns of running a city.
The revolutionary government was content to leave Flash’s infrastructure in place, at least until they felt themselves established. Then, perhaps, they might be inclined to do a little tinkering, but certainly for the time they were just content to leave things as they were. All anyone cared about was that the streets stayed clean, the garbage was collected, and that order was maintained, at least as well as it could be in such turbulent times.
Such services, however, do not come for free. As patriotic as the civil servants were, they all had families to feed and expected to be paid at the end of the week. When the paychecks stopped coming, they began a revival of the general strike, and threatened to topple the revolutionary government before it even had a chance.
Of course in hindsight it seems perfectly obvious that money would be needed for such ordinary tasks, but the revolutionaries were caught off-guard. I think everyone, especially the young Clodians, had their head in the clouds, dreaming of the sweeping social reforms they were going to enact. Therefore the less romantic tasks such as garbage collecting were forgotten about. Besides, these tasks had run so smoothly under Flash that everyone took them for granted.
And so the revolutionary government faced its first challenge. It needed money, and it needed the money now! In the time it took to raise the money, the disturbance in the streets might get out of hand. Rosa was too busy to attend to the matter personally, but she sent Varro and Ares to the Bank of Fabulae. Varro was sent because he was the only one Rosa really trusted, and he had also displayed a knack for book keeping. Ares was sent because Varro could be a little timid at times, and Rosa wanted someone who wouldn’t be afraid to push the issue aggressively if needed. Of course Rosa didn’t say as much, but her motives were transparent to everyone. The funny thing was that even Varro and Ares began to realize why they had been selected, and so began to play into their roles even more than Rosa had originally intended.
And so one afternoon, without any fanfare or ceremony, Varro and Ares paid a surprise visit to the bank. What happened there, as it was related by Varro, has become a matter of public record, and so I hope the reader will not mind if I borrow from Varro’s account to describe events I was not present at.
Ares strolled up to the door and, playing up his role as the aggressive one, pounded on the door three times forcefully. The door opened slowly, and in the doorway stood a short, bald, rather intimidating fat man. "Yes?" he asked in a quiet voice. "Who are you and how can I help you."
"We were sent by the Executive committee and we are here to see the Director," Ares boomed out.
The short fat man stuck his head a little further out the door and looked around. Seeing no one, he turned back to them. "Are you alone?"
"Yes," Ares replied.
"Come in then."
Ares and Varro were led through the banking hall to the office of Cicero, a long thin man, roughly the same age as Flash, who had a reputation for being a sharp dresser. No doubt he was dressed very eloquently that day as well, wearing on of his expensive suits despite the heat, and fingering his gold watch in his pocket, through his white gloves.
The short bald man tried to introduce the revolutionaries. "Sir, these gentlemen would like to see you. They’re from the-"
"From the Executive Committee. Of course they are. Gentleman, it an honor to have you here. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time."
Even Ares was caught off guard. "You’ve been waiting for us?" he asked in disbelief.
"Certainly."
Varro was briefly distracted by the fat little man, who left the room quietly shutting the door behind him. When Varro looked again at the front of the room, Cicero was pouring wine into three glasses. Two chairs were set up on the other side of Cicero’s desk. It looked like he had indeed been expecting them. "Have a drink," Cicero said, sliding the wine glasses in front of Ares and Varro as the two of them slipped into their seats.
"Thank you but none for me," Varro replied in a cordial tone. Ares cast a rather suspicious look at the wineglass, and then shook his head to indicate his refusal. Unfazed, Cicero simply pulled the glasses back.
"Now, let’s come right to the point, huh gentleman? I know exactly why you’re here. You need money. Well, I’m not surprised. In fact, I was a little worried that it took you this long to come over here, but I see events in the streets have forced your hand a little bit." Cicero took a sip of wine, and slowly swirled the red liquid around in his glass. "One cannot govern without money. I know that better then anyone. I took care of all the payments for the Duke. And, I would very much like to carry on in the same capacity for the new government. I’ve read some of your decrees you know. They’re not bad at all. And moreover I like young people. In any case, your government could hardly be worse than the one it replaces. Now, do you need a lot of money?"
Varro expected Ares to speak up, simply because Ares had done most of the talking so far. Ares, however, had no idea how much money was required and so after a moment of silence Varro answered. "Uh, well, yes we do actually. Quite a lot. I know how this must seem but-"
Cicero gulped down the last of his wineglass while silencing Varro with hand gestures. "No, no, now there’s no need for that lad. I understand completely. I know what you need. You need, say 600,000 units to tide you over for the next few days."
It was a very generous offer, and Varro was about to take it, but Ares, who had no idea how much money was really needed, interjected himself to fulfill the role he knew Rosa wanted him to play. "We need a million," he said flatly.
Cicero didn’t loose a beat. "Certainly, well then a million it is gentlemen. And eventually I imagine we’ll want to take it up to two or three million. With that sort of money you can start to sort yourselves out. Come on then, we must get it for you at once. I will ring and have my assistant bring it up."
Ares was quite please with this, but Varro, somewhat flabbergasted at how quickly everything was being dumped in their lap, stuttered out that although they were empowered to ask for the money, he wasn’t sure if they were actually empowered to carry it away in cash form, and to guard against the appearance of impropriety perhaps other members of the executive committee would have to be fetched.
"An excellent idea," replied Cicero. "If you gentleman are empowered to sign for the money, I could have it all counted and waiting for you when you return."
Varro had no reason not to trust Cicero, but he read carefully through all the forms he was given, just in case. Finding nothing besides an ordinary banking agreement, and being pleasantly surprised at the remarkably low interest rate (which Cicero claimed was his gesture of goodwill to the new government), Varro enthusiastically signed, using the official seal Rosa had given him.
While Varro was concerned with the paperwork, Ares felt compelled to offer Cicero something in return for the very generous terms Cicero had given the revolutionary government. "Is there anything we can do for you? Perhaps we could help with the security of the bank?"
"No, thank you kindly," smiled Cicero. "That would be useless. We aren’t too badly organized here, you know. We have our little way of doing things, and it seems to work rather nicely. We’re big fellows, we can look after ourselves. Why bother to complicate what I hope will be very cordial relations between us."
As soon as Varro had filled out the necessary forms, he and Ares ran back to Rosa, laughing with delight at how well things had gone.


The Grand Hotel, a rather expensive place downtown, which Flash had used almost exclusively to host visiting dignitaries, had now become the unofficial headquarters of the revolutionary government. The revolutionaries took over many of the rooms on the first floor and converted them to offices and meeting halls. Rosa herself had taken over Flash’s old office.
As Varro and Ares strolled into Rosa’s Office, Emma slipped in behind them to find out what the returning news would be. Varro and Ares, extremely pleased with themselves, bubbled over with enthusiasm as they related the events. Varro stopped suddenly when he noticed Rosa had turned pale. Ares took a little while longer to notice, but then he too abruptly became silent.
Rosa held out her hand. "Give me the forms," she demanded.
Cicero had made Varro fill out each form twice, once for the bank’s records and once for the government’s. Varro silently handed over the government’s copy. Emma hastened to peer over Rosa’s shoulder. Rosa seemed to look through all the forms without emotion. She swallowed, and then looked up. "This is not what I asked you to do," she said furiously.
Neither Varro nor Ares felt like answering this one, but Varro soon decided that nothing could be worse than the icy silence which developed. "I don't understand," he said, knowing eveing as he spoke that he was just setting himself up to get yelled at again. "You wanted us to get money."
"Yes, but I didn't want you to ask for it. You weren't supposed to show up with your hat in your hand and beg he bourgesois for handouts."
Varro swallowed and looked at the floor. It was very unnerving to be under the fierce gaze of both Emma and Rosa. "How do you think all that money got there in the first place? Do you think Cicero earned it all? Is that his money hat he can loan it to you? Every last coin in htat bank was earned by the sweat of the workers, and now the Revolutionary Worker's government has to com crawling on our knees so that Cicero will let us borrow it?"
"So what now?" Emma asked.
Rosa threw the papers up in the air. As they fluttered down, Varro slowly edged backwards, and wished the wall would come alive and swallow him. "He signed it with our seal," Rosa replied. "We have to honor the agreement."
"What do you mean?" Emma was becoming alarmed.
Rosa sighed dejectedly. "We use Cicero's money as a loan until we can get on our feet. Then we return it to him."
"But we can't do that. If we-"
Rosa attempted to cut off the debate. "He signed with our seal."
But Rosa should have known that Emma would not be pacified so easily. Emma started up again in a calmer, more determined voice. "As long as we allow Cicero and the bank of Fabulae to operate, the bourgesois will have free access to all their capital." Varro was almost relieved that Rosa and Emma were beginning to turn on each other, instead of at him.
"I know that!" Rosa snapped, but Emma was not done.
"If we can control the capital, we'll bring the bourgeois to their knees. But, as long as capital remains fee, we'll never be able to control the bourgesois."
"I know! I know! I know!" Rosa's voice crescended with each repitition. "But what other choice do I have? We are not going to start this government by breaking our first public agreement, even if it is an agreement with the bourgesois." And then without warning Varro once again found himself under Rosa's fierce gaze. "For future reference gentleme, we are the Revolutionary Worker"s government. We don't ask; we take." Rosa spun around and exited the room. It was so sudden that even Emma was stunned at first. Emma looked at Ares and Varro to exchange bewildered glances, then recovered herself and chased after Rosa to pursue the argument.