Truancy Origins

 

 

TRUANCY
ORIGINS
  

 

 

 

A
LSO
A
VAILABLE FROM
T
OR TEEN

             
Truancy

 

F
ORTHCOMING

             
Truancy City

 

 

 

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

 

TRUANCY ORIGINS

 

Copyright © 2009 by Isamu Fukui

 

All rights reserved.

 

A Tor Teen Book

Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

175 Fifth Avenue

New York, NY 10010

 

www.tor-forge.com

 

Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

 

Fukui, Isamu, 1990–

Truancy origins / Isamu Fukui.—1st ed.

   p. cm.

Prequel to: Truancy.

Summary: Relates how Truancy, an underground movement determined to bring down the Mayor's goal of control through education, began with the birth of twin boys who grew up to take divergent paths after being adopted by the Mayor.

ISBN-13: 978-0-7653-2262-3

ISBN-10: 0-7653-2262-5

[1. Brothers—Fiction. 2. Twins—Fiction. 3. Totalitarianism—Fiction. 4.

Education—Fiction. 5. Counterculture—Fiction. 6. Fantasy. 7. Youths' writings.]

I. Title.

PZ7.F951538Tt 2009

[Fic]—dc22

2008035627

 

First Edition: March 2009

 

Printed in the United States of America

 

0  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

 

 

 

I dedicate this story
To Francis Yuan
For being my friend
Through all the times
When no one else would

   
Prologue:
Sibling Rivalry

 

PART I
: STUDENT

1:
  Filial Piety

2:
  Behind the Scenes

3:
  Crossing the Line

4:
  Parental Control

5:
  The Origin of Truancy

6:
  Learning a Lesson

7:
  Standing His Ground

 

PART II
: VAGRANT

8:
  Awakening

9:
  Apples and Oranges

10:
  Scarred for Life

11:
  Run Away

12:
  A Chorus of Screams

13:
  Failure

14:
  Personal Demons

 

PART III
: MAVERICK

15:
  A Second Chance

16:
  District 19

17:
  The Color of Blood

18:
  A Fateful Encounter

19:
  Setting Traps

20:
  The War Begins

21:
  Make Lemonade

 

PART IV
: PACIFIST

22:
  Fog of War

23:
  Without a Name

24:
  The Birth of Zyid

25:
  Before the Storm

26:
  Fade to White

27:
  Edward

28:
  The Price of Knowledge

 

PART V
: LEGEND

29:
  Ultimatums

30:
  Kindred Spirits

31:
  Sides of a Coin

32:
  Final Preparations

33:
  Brother against Brother

34:
  Original Sin

35:
  The Beginning

 

 

TRUANCY
ORIGINS
  

 

 

T
he Mayor spared a glance out the window of his office. It was night now, but the lights of the City never died, defying the dark skies with their persistent glow.
Night.
City nights were usually chilly. The Mayor, who detested humidity and heat, always welcomed the nights. For good measure he also kept his office air-conditioned to the point where the air felt stale and metallic—but
cool,
at the very least.

So where is this damn sweat coming from?

Frustrated, the Mayor reached up to his forehead and wiped off the glittering drops that had accumulated there. He clenched his palms, only to realize that they were shaking. Mentally steadying himself, the Mayor prayed that the dim lighting would be enough to conceal his perspiration from the small, gray eyes that faced him. The eyes silently observed his every move, and as they did, the Mayor felt a strange, unfamiliar feeling in his gut. The Mayor grimaced. It was almost as if . . .

And then it hit him. The sweat, the shaking, the feeling—could it be
fear
?

The Mayor had not been accustomed to fear for many years, not since he had begun governing what he had always thought of as
his
City. But now those cold, unblinking eyes served as a reminder that it was not his City after all, that there were people out there to whom he was just a pawn.

Taking a deep breath, the Mayor laid his folded hands down upon his desk. Across the polished wooden surface, in spite of the dim light, the watchful eyes glittered, and the Mayor recognized both intelligence and menace in their sharp gaze. For several minutes, the room remained completely silent, save for the low, consistent hum of the air conditioner. No words were said, and yet the silence managed to convey a clear message. The Mayor knew that he was not in charge here, not now.

It was astounding, the Mayor thought bitterly, that an eight-year-old girl could exert such a presence.

“I hope you don't mind me saying that your visit, pleasant though it is, was . . . unanticipated,” the Mayor said, choosing his words cautiously. ”I had not heard that your father was sending his daughter on city inspections. In fact, I must confess that I didn't know the government had been conducting any city inspections at all lately.”

The girl's gaze intensified at the breaking of the silence, but the Mayor was confident that he had chosen the right words. There was nothing malicious in that gray stare. Not yet at least.

“My father has no illusions about my capabilities, and he believes that it's best for me to expand them through firsthand experience,” the girl replied, her voice as slick as oil. “But I'm afraid that you have misjudged my purpose here, Mr. Mayor. This is not an inspection—we are quite aware of how well your city has performed. I might go so far as to say that your work has been exemplary.”

The Mayor did not acknowledge the proffered compliment, though his eyes narrowed. He hadn't really thought that it was an inspection, but if it wasn't a reprimand either, what could it possibly be? There was something odd going on here, the Mayor knew, and it filled him with that unpleasant sensation that he now associated with fear.

“As you know, we like to protect experimental cities like yours from exposure to potentially contaminating influences,” the child continued. “That is why we have not formally conducted inspections for years now. As far as your citizens know, your small operation is the
only
government they are subject to, and we'd prefer it stay that way. But we do appreciate your success—it has been thoroughly documented by our agents in the populace.”

The Mayor leaned back in his chair in an attempt to appear relaxed, even as a few more beads of sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

“Then why are you here?” the Mayor asked bluntly.

“My father has sent me as a courier, Mr. Mayor. I'm here to drop off a . . . sensitive package,” the girl replied, and the Mayor reflexively drew back as he saw something unsettling stir across the child's features. “I know of your reputation for respecting secrecy, so I believe it safe to tell you that my father has recently sired two sons. Twins.”

The Mayor forced a smile to conceal his dismay. If these new brats ended up anything like their older sibling, it could only mean more trouble for him and his City.

“You must convey my sincere congratulations to your father. I couldn't be happier for him,” the Mayor lied.

The atmosphere of the room abruptly changed. The girl's head snapped forward, her face contorting as her small hands gripped the armrests of her chair so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The Mayor instinctively recoiled, and a stir at the far end of the room reminded him that the girl's bodyguards were present, prepared to kill at the child's command.

“The twins are illegitimate,” the girl snarled. “They have no father.”

The Mayor was taken aback as the girl's composure suddenly slipped, malice echoing in her voice, fury clearly etched on her young face. In that one moment of shock, the Mayor briefly wondered how anyone could possibly be so serene one moment and so feral the next. But as swiftly as the
outburst had come, it had gone, and the child was again calmly collected, staring at the Mayor with those stormy eyes, her voice as cold and as smooth as ice.

“Unfortunately, my father and I have had a disagreement about the infants. He has refused to . . . properly dispose of them.” The girl's eyes glinted. “After some . . . debate . . . it was decided that it would be best to entrust the children to the care of another.”

Upon hearing those words, the Mayor felt a sudden wave of panic threatening to overwhelm him. He was not a stupid man; he knew where this was going, and he
definitely
did not like it one bit. Grinding his teeth together, the Mayor waited as the girl continued.

“The children need to live comfortably. They also need to be kept from causing trouble. And who could possibly be better suited for both tasks”—the girl smiled faintly—“than the Mayor of the Education City, whose system has never failed to control a child?”

The Mayor blanched, his calm façade in ruins.

“If I may—” the Mayor began hoarsely.

“I'm afraid that you may
not,
” the child interrupted as she drew two rectangular pieces of plastic out of her pocket and placed them on the Mayor's desk. “You needn't worry about finances. My father has set aside a generous amount of funds for their personal use. These cards will grant access to accounts containing one hundred million each in government currency. Two hundred million in total. It's enough to maintain a small army, and should be more than enough to assure that they will live comfortably.”

“Money is not an issue . . .”the Mayor began to protest.

“Then there should be no problem,” the child said. “The decision is final. You will find these . . . orphans . . . outside in the hallway. You will adopt them and raise them. You are expected only to keep them in good health, out of the way, and, most important, out of trouble.” The girl smirked now as she rose from her chair. “Allow me to convey my sincere congratulations to
you,
Father.”