Runaway World

President Calhoun

     The next day, Captain Douglas came for Andrew again.

     He was with Jasmine again, along with the rest of his family for their hour long daily get together. They had been separated and moved into permanent accommodations some days earlier, each of them, including the children, sent to live with a military family whom they'd been told were going to 'adopt' them. They would be either the child or the sibling of the man of the house, depending on their relative ages, and they would be given employment so that they could make a useful contribution to the city in return for their room and board. With the adult women the situation was only temporary until it was decided which of the city's ruling elite they would be married off to, but the Generals seemed to be hoping that the New Londoners would eventually assimilate into New Philadelphia life and lose their desire to leave.

     "How are the people you're living with?" he asked David.

     "They're okay," the boy said reluctantly. "They seem nice. The father tells me that I have to call him dad, though. They say that my name's David Lancaster now."

     "Go along with it," Andrew advised him. "Do whatever they tell you to do. Say whatever they tell you to say, but never forget who your real family is."

     David nodded. "The people buried under the ice..."

     "No," said Andrew, taking the boy by the shoulders and staring into the eyes. "I mean us. You are my son. You always have been and you always will be. And Susan is your mother and this is your brother and your sister." He turned to James. "That goes for you too. Never forget that you are my son and that I love you." They nodded soberly.

     "What are the people you're staying with like?" Susan asked James.

     "A bit strange," he replied. "Ike, the father, keeps telling me how lucky I am, that in a couple of years I'm going to be making every woman in the city pregnant. He winks at me a lot and says how much he'd love to be in my place, like it's a joke. He can have my place if he wants it. I don't want it." Then he looked guiltily at his mother. "I should be grateful, I know. What they'll do to me is nothing compared to what they're going to do to you."

     "I'll be okay, James," his mother assured him. "I can endure anything so long as I know the rest of you are safe."

     "And Jas," said James, his eyes hardening as he turned to look down at his sister, still comatose on the bed. "If any of those bastards lays a finger on her..."

     "James..." said Andrew fearfully.

     "I'll kill them," the teenager said, is words made stronger by the softness with which he spoke them. "I swear I'll kill them."

     "If there's any killing to be done, I'll be the one that does it," said Andrew, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I haven't given up hope of getting away from this place, though, and neither should you. If there's any way out of here I'll find it. I swear."

     "They're all mad here," said James, moving closer to his father. Andrew put his arms around him. "The people I'm staying with have a daughter a couple of years older than me. Called Annie. She looks at me all the time and says she can't wait for me to be old enough to begin my work. That's what she calls it. My work. I think she wants to be the first to have my baby." Andrew felt him shudder as the boy huddled close to him. "She makes me feel awkward when I've got no clothes on. I've never felt that way before. I don't think she wants to wait two years."

     "The woman who bears your children will be the woman you fall in love with and choose to spend the rest of your life with," Andrew assured him. "Pay no attention to this Annie, but pretend to go along with whatever they say. We've got two years to think of something."