Class of 2013 - 26

Chapter Twenty Six

A couple of hours had passed since I spoke with Alice, and in that time I had retreated to the cafeteria. Most would assume that it was for something to eat, and knowing me that probably wouldn’t have been a bad assumption. However, it was – at present – incorrect. Rather, I had ventured there for some peace and quiet. It was something that I rather liked having, and something that I had not been granted in the last few days. On top of that, I needed to get some practice time in for my swordsmanship. First though I would meditate – and yes, I really did this. Of course, it wasn’t mandatory, but it did help me quite a lot. Finding ‘inner peace’ was a grand use of time – it kept the mind clear and the emotions on the level.

Seated upon the stage, legs crossed ‘Indian-style’ with my bokken across my lap and the lights in the cafeteria dimmed; I let my arms rest across my knees and breathed deeply; clearing my mind. There was no chanting, no fancy positioning, just breathing and quiet… at least until I heard the metal cafeteria door swing open on its squeaking hinges. In the quiet of the dimly lit room, I could hear the footfalls of someone that I could tell was feminine. How? The lightness of the steps gave it away. Women naturally walked more softly than men, even when they had places to be. This, coupled with the way women’s shoes were typically designed, made a distinct difference in the level of noise that the genders made while moving in quiet spaces.

I could feel eyes on me as she moved closer, and I knew immediately who this was. The feeling that I got wasn’t like what I would expect from someone that I knew. They would be looking at me curiously, but they would also already know exactly what I was doing. No this was someone that had never seen me do this before. They didn’t know what it was – or at least why – that I was doing as they came upon me. A sharpened, deductive mind was behind those eyes, and it made me mentally smirk a bit. Soon enough I spoke, as her footfalls stopped near the stage.

“Is there something that I can help you with, Christine?”

There was a pause as she no doubt blinked her eyes in surprise. “How did you know it was me…?”

“Simply because someone’s eyes aren’t open doesn’t mean their ears are closed.” I grinned, “After all, the blind monkey can both speak and hear evil, can it not?”

“I do believe they’re supposed to represent individual portions of the whole, actually.” She replied smartly, and that mental smirk manifested itself upon my lips.

“An excellent point, but it does not refute that the individual portion of the whole is still thusly capable when separated from its others. Is that not true?”

“I suppose it is, Mr. Abernethy.”

“Chordata.” I corrected, “Lea is my cousin on my mother’s side.”

“Ah, so I see. Apologies.”

“Not necessary, my dear.” I smiled, “You didn’t know. No harm done.”

“You’re more chipper than I expected.”

I quirked a brow, though my eyes remained shut. “Oh? And what made you think I’d be less chipper than I am, Miss Fury?”

“Writers usually tend to be, or at least so I’ve heard.”

“Ah.” I blinked my eyes open then and grinned, “Well then, to show that I’m no Debbie Downer, allow me to postulate this query: when will your Uncle Sam be bringing the Helicarrier to get us all the blazes out of here?”

I saw a little smirk form on her lips. “No such luck. The team is on a mission in Europe. He’ll be coming by car.”

“A red classic, perhaps?” I grinned wryly.

“Oh heavens, no… that would be me. Though I do prefer the 1970 model to the 1958. Red is always perfect though.” She smiled, “He’ll probably be driving a GTO. Shoots rockets out of the headlights. Can’t miss it.”

“Are Vin and Ice coming too?”

“Nah, he only worked with them once each.”

“Sad thing.” I said as she leaned against the stage, and I tried to keep my focus on her face. It wasn’t an easy task, but I pulled through… for the most part.

“Yeah, I know.” She smirked wickedly as she noticed me glance down. “Lea might skin you if she saw you do that, you know.”

I laughed a little, and then smiled. “Hardly. She’d probably gloat.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

“And why is that?”

“Because she has you and I don’t.” I shrugged a bit, “Lucky thing she is.”

She went quiet for a moment, looking away. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

I blinked. “What makes you say that? I’ve seen the way you look at her, and even the way she looks at you now. If you don’t think she’s lucky to have you, you’re out of your gourd, Nancy Drew.” I saw her glance at me when I called her by the feminine sleuth’s name, and the half-smile that was present upon her lips. “You’re perfect together.”

“Except we can never really be together.” She said as she looked away from me again.

“What do you mean?” I tilted my head slightly. “You’re pretty ‘together’ as it is, I think. Of course, that’s assuming what we all heard about the shower you and her took is true.”

Her eyes shot wide at that and she span to look at me. “She told you all?!” She said in dismay, but I quickly put my hands up and waved them

“No, no!” I shook my head, “Molly mentioned it… and so did Sophie… in a semi-vague sort of way.” I grinned a little then, “But Sophie did mention that you’re apparently flexible.”

Christine’s cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of crimson at the closing words, and she turned away completely so that her back was to me – her hands rubbing her cheeks. I simply couldn’t help but laugh. Perhaps she had thought that it would all be a secret. I couldn’t help that – it wasn’t as if there was anyone in our main group that didn’t know about it already. Of course, the next thing that she said startled me. Over her shoulder she gave a wicked look and then an abrupt, flippant sort of retort.

“Your cousin is a freak in the sheets, just so you know.” I froze, stunned at the audacity of how easily she put that out there. A little grin formed on her lips then, as apparently my mouth was mimicking that of a fish. “No witty comeback, Sir Chordata?”

The direct addressing of my state managed to bring me back, and my mind shot off the first thing it could come up with. “I was merely contemplating correcting you, Lady Fury.”

“How so?” She asked with a contemplative little grin.

“Shouldn’t you have said ‘in the shower’, instead of ‘in the sheets’?”

She chuckled, “Nice save, Captain Fish.”

“That’s Lieutenant Fish, to you.” I said with a mock haughtiness.

She rolled her eyes as she replied sarcastically. “Oh my, so sorry Lieutenant.”

“You’re forgiven, my Lady.” I grinned, “So, what are you doing in here?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“I asked first.”

“I asked most recently.”

“When taking a test, does one answer the questions in order of their asking?”

“So long as one knows the answer to the questions they may be answered in any order chosen by the one being asked.”

“I happen to answer them in order.”

“As do I, but I’m not going to be graded on how I answer you.”

“Are you sure of this, my dear?”

“Quite sure. You’ve no grade book in your hands, and you know not the answer to your question. How can you grade me when you have no answer key?”

“Only multiple choice needs an answer key. This is short answer.”

“Touché, Lieutenant.”

“I wish.” I smirked.

“You could always ask for permission.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“Yes, but you’d have to ask Lea, first.”

“And what of you?”

“If you get through her, we’ll see.” She smirked and once more leaned against the stage. “But I doubt she would give you the permission you seek.”

“This is true; very, very true.” I nodded, and then tilted my head. “You know, every time I come to the question of why you’re here, somehow you avoid it.”

“Perhaps I don’t wish to answer.”

“Why not?”

“Maybe it’s a private matter that I would rather not discuss with someone I don’t know very well. Is that satisfactory, Lieutenant?”

“Not really, no. It simply serves to make me more curious.”

“That’s too bad. I haven’t even talked to Lea about it, and she’s my girlfriend, so talking to her cousin about it before her would simply be wrong, Roy.”

“So… talk to her.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because… because I just can’t, Roy.” She leaned forward, crossing her arms on the stage and resting her forehead against them. “I want to, I really want to, I’d love to tell all of you… but I can’t.” She looked up then, “And you can’t say anything to her. Nothing at all. Do you understand, Roy? I don’t want you speaking a word to her about this.”

I was quiet for a moment, and then spoke softly. “Christine.”

“What?”

“Did you come here hoping nobody was in here?”

“…Yes.”

“Did you want to be alone for awhile?”

“…Yeah. That’s why I’m here.” She said quietly.

“Then get up here with me, and we’ll be alone together.” I smiled softly as she looked up. She was about to speak, but I cut her off. “I won’t ask anymore, at least not right now. Whatever it is, you need time to calm down, and I can most certainly afford you that, my dear ginger.”

She smiled softly then and got up on the stage with me, quickly copying the way in which I was sitting. A soft smile to her and then I looked forward again, closing my eyes. We sat in silence for a moment before I asked a question.

“So Christine… where is Lea anyway?”

“…You don’t know where she is, but somehow you were certain it was me in here?”

“She would have just talked to me, not watched me.”

“Ah.” She paused, “She’s in her room asleep. I told her to take it easy today for the sake of her shoulder.”

“I see.” I nodded. All was quiet for a couple more moments, and then she spoke.

“What’s that on your lap?”

“A bokken.”

I could practically hear her blinking at me.

“A bokken is a Japanese training sword, usually made of wood. This one is made of polypropylene, so it won’t crack, and can even be used against a real blade without having to worry about taking damage.”

“So it’s a training sword.”

I nodded. “That it is.”

“…Do you know how to swordfight?”

“Saber, cutlass, longsword, and fencing are my specialties. I’m alright with a katana, but it’s not my favorite.”

“What is?”

“Saber and cutlass; more the latter really, but the style is basically the same.” I shrugged, “I’m a fan of pirates, but more than that, cutlass fighting tends to include a lot more specialty stuff than the rest.”

“What do you mean?”

“They were only really meant for use on the deck of a ship… but that meant tight spaces, a rolling deck, debris, usually multiple opponents, and the need to end a fight quickly – with often brutal efficiency. A saber is basically the same, but isn’t good in close spaces – and often was reserved for officers or cavalry. The longsword and fencing rapier both have that same disadvantage, along with the longsword only being sharp from the tip for the first third of the blade – though it has the advantage of being used in many different ways. The katana…” I paused for a moment, “…well, it’s an astounding weapon, but it’s not good for anything else, and has only a set number of ways it can be used.”

She was quiet for a moment, and then: “They’re swords, don’t they all have the same function? To be used as a weapon?”

I smiled a little and opened my eyes, “Well yeah, of course – but that’s only the primary function. Most have a secondary. They’re not just weapons, but tools. For instance, a cutlass can be used in the same capacity as a machete. A saber could be used for chopping wood, if done right. A rapier could be used for roasting something over a fire. A longsword could probably be used to dig with. A katana… well… carving meat, I guess, but then the rest could do that too. It goes without saying.” I shrugged as I looked at her. “It’s only real purpose is slicing people up.”

“Anti-gun activists use that same sort of argument.”

“Because they don’t know what they’re talking about.” I paused for a moment, “Or at least a lot of them don’t – hell, even news correspondents get it wrong a lot of the time; especially the so-called ‘experts’ that work for the station. I can agree that civilians don’t need military-grade weapons. However, I see no reason they can’t have a rifle, a shotgun, or a pistol. Anti-gun activists say get rid of all of them because their only function is to kill. The problem there is that if we couldn’t kill each other with guns, we’d be doing it with swords, axes, pitchforks, anything else sharp and pointy, and for lack of that… we’d beat each other’s brains in with rocks. And if we didn’t have rocks? We’d slam each other against walls and anything else we could until we were the only ones left alive.”

“That’s kind of a morbid outlook, Roy.” She said as she looked over at me. “Do you really believe that?”

“Don’t you?”

She was quiet for a moment, looking forward. “…I suppose you have a point.” She glanced down. “I guess I just don’t like thinking of endless cycles of violence.”

“That’s the duality of being a human being, Christine.”

“What’s that?”

“The fact that we can kill easily when needed, but any other time it appalls us.”

“That’s not always true though, Roy. Some people can’t pull a trigger even if it means that they’re going to die themselves.”

I blinked for a moment after she said that, and thought about it. It was a hard thing to overcome – survival instinct that is – but somehow there were some people so hardwired against killing that they couldn’t do it even to save themselves. Their own lives ended up forfeit just because they couldn’t harm someone. Their survival instinct was overridden by something that they were taught as they grew up. Sometimes it was because of love. Sometimes it was because of moral anguish. On a rare occasion it was because of religious reasons. No matter what though, it had to do with how the person had been raised.

“You’re right.” I nodded after a moment, “But even so, getting rid of guns won’t stop death. Might make things worse in a society like ours used to be. After all, guns were the main threat to the badguys. Mace, tasers, and self defense courses help people out, but… let’s face it, if the badguy has a gun and you can’t take it from him, you’re screwed unless you have that same weaponry.”

She quipped a brow then and looked at me, “Okay, now explain Britain and Japan having crime rates so low that the United States should be embarrassed.”

I grinned. “Ah, that’s it. That’s the exact counter-argument that should be made.”

“…You actually hoped for that?”

“Indeed. You see, I might like guns, but in terms of modern society… they aren’t really needed. You’ll hear that we need them because it’s our rights and we might have to fight back against the government and blah-blah-blah bullshit.” I shook my head, “The fact of the matter is this: if we ever really believed we needed to have a revolution, as is we wouldn’t be capable of winning without the military’s help, and if they stuck with the government… we wouldn’t stand a chance. Too few people know how to use weapons, and the ones that do would be the ones stupid enough to get themselves killed early on.” I shrugged, “The other argument that gets made is that criminals have guns, so we need them to fight back. That’s also bullshit.”

“…Alright, what makes that bullshit?”

“When was the last time there was any sort of organized resistance against criminals by civilians? Nobody goes out to hunt down badguys unless they’ve been hurt by those badguys. Rapists, thieves, murderers, drug dealers, child molesters, and all sorts of other criminals got away with the things they did because the vast majority of the common people didn’t care… unless it happened to them or someone that they knew.”

“That’s normal.”

“It being normal is the problem. Criminals were able to commit crimes because most people are selfish and only look out for number one. With this fact in the open, how much sense does the argument of needing guns to fight back against criminals make? The people that already have guns don’t go out and hunt down gangbangers. They don’t guard the streets at night. They don’t go out and help people that are getting mugged or raped. Cases where people had guns on them when these things happened to them aren’t always ended happily either. If the badguy has a gun and you pull one on him, he’s probably going to shoot you. It only helps if he isn’t armed as well as you are. Having a gun on you could get you killed. Nobody ever thinks about that.”

“Well what do you expect? The McManus brothers to swoop in, guns blazing, every time that something goes wrong in the world?”

“No, but it’d be nice, don’t you think?”

“Not really.” She said, somewhat primly, “They’re just like everyone you described. They only did it because they themselves got attacked. Even then, they only went after the mobsters. They didn’t go after the everyday criminals. They weren’t really heroes. They were just the protagonists.”

“True.” I paused for a moment. “Still an awesome movie though.”

She grinned. “Oh, the things I would have done to Norman Reedus...”

I chuckled, “Lea says that about Sean Patrick Flanery.”

“…That just gives me ideas.”

“Do tell…”

She grinned. “Sorry, but unless somehow you become my boyfriend, these fantasies are only getting shared with your cousin.”

“Then I’ll have to make that happen.”

She grinned. “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”