5.5 Theory

  It had only been two days after his return to Rencia, and Drake was already at another Smummr.

  Aaargh! he thought. Drake hadn’t had enough of a break, but the city Authorities wanted to know about the mission and the results they’d uncovered; it couldn’t be postponed any further. Arthur’s death itself had already been much of a surprise to them. They threw a funeral and everything. Now, Drake wondered how they would take to the information recovered from the SORS. He also wondered whether he should share Steve’s theory about the perpetrators.

  Also at the table was Rein, now possessing the highest authority in the Defense Force: General. His position had been decided by popular vote among the city Authorities—the people with major government power who made up the majority of the members of Smummr, including the Heads of Departments and of Defense.

  Surprisingly, some seemingly random Cadet by the name of Melissa Jenkinson had been voted into second place. Drake had never liked her: She didn’t have a passion for anything military, and only seemed to try to curry favor from the Commanders. Drake wondered why she was even there. She’d often mysteriously leave during training when bodyguards arrived to escort her somewhere. It was especially strange considering they were of the Old Military, now in charge of protecting the politicians.

  Drake had to agree that Rein was the best choice, despite his lack of ability to lead.

  General Rein was there, wearing his gear. Perhaps he was cautious and prepared since the Gorilla incident showed that an emergency could come at any time. Or he could be unnecessarily wary due to the responsibilities that came with his new position of power. Either way, he was taking proper precautions.

  “Ahem,” the President tried to gather everyone’s attention while maintaining his air of authority. The room quietened down after some time.

  “Let us begin this session of Smummr. Firstly, I would like to thank,” he looked at a paper before him, “…Steve… for conceiving of the Expedition in the first place.” He looked around the room, trying to match faces with a photo of Steve. “Where is Steve anyway?”

  “He’s at the hospital,” Drake answered. Steve had to get his wounded leg properly inspected and treated, now that he was at a place that offered the facilities. Is this the first time I’m not the one at the hospital?

  “I see,” the President shrugged it off and skipped to the next page in his stack of papers. “General Rain… Rene…? Rein? We would like to listen to your explanation of the events of the Expedition.”

  The new General got up and spoke in his usual, monotonous voice. Not minding his awkward equipment, he explained everything that had happened in the past month.

  After the explanation, the President spoke: “Interesting. There’s a significant amount of information that we can extract from this. Right now, it may seem like we have more mysteries than ever, but now, we have more pieces of information to work with. We can use this to form theories and investigate further.”

  “After we resolve the important problems of Rencia,” one man pointed out. He was one of the prominent persons who’d opposed the Expedition. Slim and aged in the fifties, with gray hair starting to show, his name was apparently Zachary Straggler. No one really knew what his job was, but he had a plethora of authority. It was rumoured that Melissa was related to him. “The Expedition itself was enough of a waste of time and resources,” he grumbled.

  The President looked at him for a few seconds and smiled. “Of course.” He changed the topic. “Now, I think an important decision is of order here.”

  Everyone looked at each other, wondering what decision he was talking about.

  “Don’t look like that. We all know what I’m talking about. We discovered, now, that there are still groups of people living outside of Rencia. We need to name them.”

  The faces of confusion were replaced by faces of horror and panic. Drake wondered if finding out people existed outside the Walls could be counted as a ‘discovery’ in the first place. It had been pretty obvious that they existed before government propaganda had tried to eliminate the possibility from people’s minds. Now that they realized again, the government would be playing along as if they were innocent and were only now finding out also.

  “I am thinking,” he looked up in thought, “Groups Of People Surviving In Clusters Outside the Walls, or G.O.P.S.I.C.O.W.”

  “Alright, that’s enough,” Drake spoke up, putting his hands on the table and standing up. He’d seen enough of this nonsense. If no one else was going to do anything about it, he would. “Listen, President Atkinson. No one has pointed this out yet because they respect your authority, but your naming skill sucks.”

  Everyone looked at him, some were surprised that he had the audacity to speak up to the president of the country that was Rencia, and others regarded him as their savior.

  “Literally every time we meet here,” Drake refused to use the official name, “you think of something to name. It’s unnecessary, especially if the names are this bad; I’d rather not use any. Maybe we can have a vote here on whether or not to use them.”

  Everyone turned to the President, anxiously awaiting his reaction. The President flashed a serious and almost angry look at Drake. Drake was taken aback, wondering what he was doing. He shifted his weight. His annoyance had once again led to a burst. He really needed to control those. He was just used to expressing his emotions and opinions to get them over with.

  Warren Atkinson then quickly shifted to a gleeful smile. “I don’t see what the problem is. Maybe a few members here may not appreciate my taste in acronyms, but no one here has voiced the topic till now.

  “A bad name or two can’t be that important so as to bring it up as a topic in this important meeting. If it is irritating for you, who is speaking on behalf of the citizens of Rencia, then I shall stop naming from henceforth. But let us leave the names that I’ve already thought up in place.”

  Drake didn’t want to push any further. He sat down, trying to appear satisfied.

  “Good. Now that that has been settled, let us move on.” The President wanted a change in the topic as soon as possible.

  “I can begin my segment,” Dr. Lazzie spoke up.

  “Alright, then. Go on.” The President gave permission. The awkward situation died down, and important things could be discussed now.

  “Over the past month, my team and I have been analyzing the Blucteryhem,” she was good at garnering a favorable impression from the higher-ups. “We are using the data to find out how to combat it. The biggest problem in defeating it is the fact that it is a virus. A bacteria would be killable, but a virus, not having any life in the first place, can’t be killed, and so it’s difficult to defeat it. We’re trying to create a cure that, when injected into a Mayhem, deactivates…”

  Drake tuned out. He was thinking about other stuff. Now that he’d opposed the President like this, it would be awkward for him to explain Steve’s theory at the table. Drake smiled. If Steve were here, he would have freaked out at what Drake had done. The Smummr was pretty boring without him and Drake’s father, who was somewhere else at the moment.

  He hadn’t had the opportunity nor time yet to detail all of his journey outside the Walls to his father. Drake was sure his father would freak out when he found out about him nearly dying and getting struck by lightning.

  “…So far, we’ve developed a prototype to accomplish this. We haven’t tested it out, but this is our first step in finding a way to defeat the Mayhems.” Dr. Lazzie concluded.

  “Very good.” The President and others were impressed, as usual. Lazzie and her team were exceptional at producing results. It was no wonder why she had been chosen to be in Rencia.

  “At this rate, we’re bound to defeat the Mayhems and find ultimate safety for the people of this country soon.”

  Everyone across the world surely had envisioned at some point a world free of Mayhems. Maybe returning to normalcy was too much to hope for, but they at least wanted a world where they can work to bring it back instead of trying to survive. Everyone wanted the problem to disappear, and seeing this progress brought much hope and relief.

  “Another thing,” Dr. Jillian Lazzie continued. “The event which Drake went through—getting struck by lightning and then the Mayhem attacking others. It sounds very odd.

  “Getting struck by lightning itself is very improbable, but leaving that aside, the lightning seemed to act as a catalyst to change the fundamental behavior of the Mayhem. This is groundbreaking! So far, we’ve only Mayhems have the same behavior trait: wanting to eat humans at any cost. If electricity can change them… We’ll have to research this further.”

  “Is there such a need?” Zachary asked. “We’re finding a cure to the Blucteryhem anyway.”

  “Well,” the President said, “that’s up to their department to decide.”

  “Is it? They work for us, the Authorities,” the man persisted. “We should choose the direction the research goes in. De-mutating the Mayhems is our first priority. Not looking into how to change their behavior.”

  “No, wait,” Tristan Wells chimed in. “Finding the cure will take a while. Before then, if we can change the Mayhems to be on our side, we can weaponize them…”

  “It’s always about weapons to you! We’re perfectly safe within these Walls. The Gorilla was a rare case, and one that can’t be defeated by other Mayhems. I don’t see any reason to divert our efforts from finding a cure and preparing Rencia for the upcoming winter…”

  Drake sighed and tuned out. The meetings would occasionally be sporadically interrupted with and impeded by these heated debates. It was annoying, boring, and, above all, unproductive. He was genuinely surprised that there was this much enmity between the politicians. He’d expected for them to be conspiring together.

  The rest of the meeting involved presentations of various problems in Rencia and Tristan Wells hinting at a suit he had developed and prototyped for the Defense Force over the past month. After the meeting was over, and everyone was leaving the room after some socializing, Drake was about to leave, too, when the President addressed him: “Oh, and Drake. Come with me. I need to talk with you.”

  There were whispers among the Cyll Authorities, reminding Drake of elementary school, when classmates would make hushed ‘Ooohs’ whenever a student was called on by the principal.

  Oh, no, Drake thought nervously as he followed the President into another meeting room within the government building. This must be about me raising my voice about the naming earlier. He knew he’d been overstepping the professional bounds of the meeting for a while now, making the President look bad time after time. But now, it had all snowballed and he would face punishment.

  Inside the room, Drake was surprised to find that General Rein was also present, his hands crossed and with a serious and contemplative look.

  President Warren Atkinson went over to a table and placed a data cube onto the Tabel there. “You may be wondering why I called you here, Drake. It’s a serious matter that me and Gunther here had no one else to discuss with about.”

  Drake was confused about the situation, but he was even more surprised about the President’s sudden change in tone and behavior. Until now, he’d always seemed like a fool who was trying to act sophisticated, but now, he seemed serious, confident, and somewhat casual, as if a mask of false professionalism and foolishness was unveiled.

  “I’ll make this quick,” the President continued. “We believe that doctor Lazzie is an alien…”