Season 1, Episode 3 - The Ring Dings XXII - "The New Moon"

The Chairman’s office! Isaac never imagined he would ever see the day when he would actually go inside. The rumors were indeed true; a long red carpet led all the way up to Stockham's desk, and though it only took a few seconds to walk its length, it did make Isaac feel a little off-balance.

Alfie seemed to pay it no mind, his free hand in his pocket for the whole walk.

Stockham puffed a cigar, watching the smoke dissipate into the air for a moment before acknowledging the two kids. “Ah, Isaac Spallacio, Alfie Coonan, take a seat and talk with me.”

They did as instructed, sitting in the two chairs already in front of his desk.

“I’ve been told you performed admirably during the operation,” Stockham explained.

Isaac’s eyes lit up in wonder. Alfie rolled his.

“You’ve already completed your second mission, Isaac,” Stockham said. “You’re making great strides. Keep it up.”

Isaac went red. “Ah...thank you, Chairman Mr. Stockham.”

Isaac would realize his mistake as he went to sleep that night and it would take him several weeks to overcome the embarrassment he felt.

“And as you for, Alfie,” Stockham said, his voice kind. “How did it feel, serving New England in an hour of need?”

Alfie crossed his arms. “I’m not fighting for New England or nothing. I’m fighting for my promised freedom. And maybe the people that were in the store with me...ah, damn your charisma, Isaac.”

“We made a good team,” Isaac confirmed.

“So, I take it you find him trustworthy?” Stockham asked.

Isaac looked over at Alfie. “When push comes to shove, he’ll have your back.”

Stockham nodded, then reached into a cabinet below his desk. His hand reappeared holding a key which he gave to Alfie.

Alfie looked it over for a moment, then carefully placed it into the lock and turned it. After a satisfying unlocking sound, the anti-Rddhi device fell off his hand, dropping into his lap. Alfie flexed his hand in satisfaction, then eyed Stockham, sizing him up.

Stockham chuckled. “I suppose you’re thinking this would be a perfect opportunity for an assassination attempt, a terrible decision on my part to let my guard down. Well, let me tell you two useful pieces of information. First, I understand what kind of man you are, Alfie. You’ve come a long way and have had a poor lot in life, that I know. But you’re not the type of person to betray someone who has shown you kindness. I may very well represent authority, the enemy, the man in charge who’s kept you in chains your whole life. You may hate me for it. But I’m on Isaac’s side. I’m on his team. And you wouldn’t betray Isaac like that.”

Alfie crossed his arms grunted. “Tch.”

“And secondly...if you tried to come at me, right here, right now, I’d beat you six ways to next Sunday.”

Alfie chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“And now, on to the most important part,” Stockham explained. “You had contact with a man in a white trenchcoat, yes?”

Isaac and Alfie looked at each other then nodded.

“We are dubbing him the Alchemist due to his Rddhi abilities,” Stockham explained. “So, this Alchemist...a cultivator of men, so I’ve heard.”

Isaac nodded. “He said he was going to become President one day. He would overturn New England, rejuvenate the country in a Second Restoration.”

Stockham nodded. “Based on your file, I seem to recall you making a similar statement in your entry interview, Isaac. What was it? Wiping the slate clean? Destroy the village to save it? You may not know this, but the Alchemist made a similar comment about how sometimes, a man must destroy his clay when he is unable to reshape it effectively any longer.”

Isaac rubbed the back of his neck, thinking Panama in the sewers, Harriet in the store. Both of them were dealt tough hands in life...but their responses only brought more misfortune to the world. How did assassinations and smuggling save anyone?

Was that right? Were they changing the world for the better? Or were they just inflicting the pain they felt back onto the world, onto innocents?

Isaac spoke slowly, carefully examining each word so he could get his new feelings across. “Well...I know a little more about the world now. I think...maybe some villages just gotta be destroyed...but maybe not every village. Maybe...you can just clean up the village. Fix it from the inside, help out here and there, rather than apply a hammer to the whole thing. Because you’ll be hurting the people inside if you use a hammer.”

Stockham nodded. “I agree. New England is the village, and the Alchemist is the hammer. To save New England, he wishes to utterly destroy it first. And, as you continue to learn more about the world, you’ll find many people share his views. Panama. Harriet Jones. Roman Julian.”

The other dead Rddhi user in the body bag, Isaac reflected. They all wanted to change the world just like I do...and look at where their methods got them.

Isaac shook his head. They wanted to destroy the village. But I see now...maybe all the village needs is honest work and reform.

“I’ll let you two in on some information that might seem classified, but is rather obvious if you think about it,” Stockham said. He spun slightly in his seat, facing horizontal to them, the blue autumn sky behind him through the windows. “President Pulaski, blessed be his name, is a mortal man, something we can all agree on. And having personally served with him in the First American War, I know he is getting up there in years.”

Stockham sighed. “When he passes, all the vultures will finally come out of hiding and swoop in to claim New England. It appears the Alchemist will be throwing his hat into the ring for that.”

“I thought Chief Amien of the State Police would be succeeding him,” Isaac said. He scratched his head. “...or at least, that’s what the news said.”

“And who do you think told the news that?” Stockham asked.

“Chief Amien of the State Police,” Alfie supposed.

Stockham nodded. “The next two years will be crucial for New England. Already, we’re seeing the signs of mass unrest, class warfare, disillusionment and apathy. A presidential succession is looming. Abroad, we’ve got the New York presidential election next year that will determine their future policy toward us, the tensions in the Champlain region, the global recession, and the march of science and progress, for better or worse. And in the center of that storm will the Rddhi users and our Academy.”

Stockham let out another cloud of smoke. “I suggest you two think about that.”

Isaac and Alfie nodded.

Isaac shut the door to Mr. Stockham’s office behind him. Next to him in the hallway, Alfie looked down at his hand, truly free for the first time in months.

The two walked down the maze of hallways that spiraled outward from the Chairman's office, towards the staircase that would take them back down to the lobby of the Support Building of the Academy.

“So? What’s next for you?” Isaac asked.

Alfie looked over at him as they walked. “What?”

“You know...the mission’s done now, your hand’s free, you got any plans for the evening?”

Alfie chuckled. “I’m still to be shot on sight if I leave the grounds of the Academy.”

“Beats being shot on sight for leaving the cell.”

“Suppose you’re not wrong.”

“And Stockham said you’re allowed to take part in our classes, that was cool.”

“Cool,” Alfie dryly repeated. “Rddhi users are killing machines. Not pre-calc machines.”

“Aw, c’mon, maybe you’ll make some new friends,” Isaac supposed.

Alfie wanted to say they’d probably all hate him, but then he remembered that blonde-hair girl Audrey.

“Suppose you’re not wrong,” he said again.

They arrived in the lobby and pushed open the doors into the Academy courtyard. Since it was late on a Friday, it seemed quiet and mostly deserted. Out of the few people still on school grounds, Isaac spotted a familiar upper-classman and gave him a wave. Sitting on a bench in the park in the center of the courtyard, Leekman waved back.

"Your training really helped!" Isaac called out.

"It did?" Leekman grinned. "I guess even a blind squirrel can find a nut once in a while!"

"And a broken clock is still right twice a day!"

The two laughed. Upon seeing and recognizing Alfie, Leekman looked at him in confusion, then gave him a wave as well.

Alfie waved back with his right hand, the freed Rddhi hand, then looked at it again for a moment.

The two stuck the edge of the courtyard, following the concrete path to their left, to the Tertiary Building. Isaac held the door open for Alfie and the two entered. At the back of the lobby was a spiral staircase, one side going down, the other going up.

“Well, I’m going down,” Alfie said, thinking of his cell deep in the below-ground levels.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Isaac said. “Why don’t you go up with me?”

“Up?” Alfie followed Isaac’s gaze to the spiral staircase ascending upwards. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much, what’s up with you?”

After a moment, Isaac laughed at his own joke, while Alfie let out a chuckle.

“Damn your charisma,” Alfie said. “Fine, I’ll go up with you.”

The two travelled up the spiral staircase, all the way to the third floor.

Alfie remembered the last time he was in here. On the third floor, his attempt at kidnapping failed courtesy of the guy walking next to him. Alfie thought he would be able to buy his freedom if he brought the girl back with him to New York; instead, he was walking down a different path, yet it still led to freedom.

At least this path has had some nice people along the way.

Standing on the top of the stairs, down the hallway to their left was where Isaac and Alfie fatefully crossed paths that one day. Instead, the two went right, down the hallway in the other direction. After passing by several brown doors to empty classrooms and storage rooms, Isaac stopped. They could see lights from the inside of the room through the space between the door and the linoleum floor.

Alfie looked at the little slip of paper in a slot below the classroom number on the wall. “The Naxtube Club?”

Isaac nodded. “C’mon, there’s some guys I’d like you to meet.”

Isaac opened the door, and Alfie supposed that maybe things actually worked out for the better, him losing that fight.

That evening, in her apartment, Audrey started giggling, watching news anchor Chuck Banner’s prominent chin and jaw jut out as he solemnly reported the night’s news on her television.

“A smuggling ring operating out of the Hayman Office Supplies store in Elizabeth Pond was successfully busted last night by the fearless efforts of the Military Police and a local Army platoon,” Chuck reported. “The operation was a smashing success. Multiple smugglers were apprehended and a number of New York-produced goods were taken in custody. But perhaps more importantly than all that, the Mystic Killer – that covert, cowardly killer – was also brought to justice during the operation. Reportedly, the Mystic Killer served as an enforcer for the smuggling operation, and when he refused peaceful offers of surrender and instead charged at our soldiers, the fearless members of the 802nd Military Police Battalion, Second Shock Squadron neutralized an extreme threat to our society. As a father, let me just personally invite you Military Police officers and soldiers to introduce yourselves, should we ever meet in a bar; I can assure that the first round of drinks will be on me...”

While Chuck smooth-talked to the people of New England; Reed groaned on Audrey’s couch.

“We killed that guy,” Reed pointed out, sinking into the couch. “It ain’t fair. Where’s our recognition?”

“Then we’d have to tell everyone we broke into a convenience store to return a pair of Ring Dings.”

Reed sighed. “Ain’t that just the way?”

Audrey giggled. “Ain’t that just the way!”

Reed twirled the Dopamine Rusher in her hand. Every twenty minutes for the past three hours, Reed and Audrey exhaled smoke, slowly depleting their large bounty.

The radio station played jazz music while Audrey changed the television channel to display some random cartoons. Audrey kept giggling, while Reed sat in a comfortable silence, letting everything wash over her.

“I’m so happy,” Audrey exclaimed. “We’re actually having a sleepover! And not a come back to my house after a life or death fight and immediately passing out kind of sleepover, but an honest-to-God sleepover!”

Reed nodded. The end of the last sleepover involved a secret she would keep to a grave. When Reed awoke that morning, she realized she had fallen asleep horizontally on Audrey’s bed, horizontally on Audrey herself, Audrey’s legs serving as Reed’s pillow. Reed could’ve sworn she fell asleep on the couch, but getting home from Bay Mart was such a blur and rush that she must’ve ended up in Audrey’s bed instead. It wasn’t terrible, she supposed. Truth be told, after all the chaos in the store, after staring death in the face once again and just barely making it out...human contact felt pretty comforting.

Not that Reed would ever, ever admit that. As soon as she woke up and realized where she fell asleep, Reed immediately got out of bed and vowed never to speak of it again. She woke up before Audrey, and hoped that Audrey had no memory of any of it.

It was embarrassing, for Christ’s sake.

But it was comforting.

And, at the bottom of her heart, Audrey’s promise to talk about vulnerabilities felt a little comforting to Reed, too.

Of course, I’d never initiate it.

Or maybe, just maybe, I could.

Reed shifted her head over to look at Audrey. “So...”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna...you know...talk...about all that?”

“All that?” Audrey repeated.

“Don’t make me say it.”

Realization dawned on Audrey’s face. She smiled gently.

“Of course, Reed. I can go first, if it makes things easier.”

“Go for it.”

Audrey looked over at her bookcase. “The reason I only have Dusk is because it was my mother’s. Her own mother smuggled it into the country and gave it to her when she was a kid. Belarus was a dictatorship – I mean, it still is, but it was one back then, too – so you couldn’t have anti-dictator books like that, just like here in New England. My mother kept good care of it. It was all she brought with her to visit relatives in the countryside when Minsk was destroyed.”

Reed kept silent, taking it all in, wondering how a person could be so open about their past.

“When my mom and dad immigrated here, she brought it with her. It was the last thing she ever gave me before she left.”

“She left?”

Audrey nodded, then looked away, straight forward. “Both of them left. I don’t know where. I just know they did.”

Reed really didn’t know what she was supposed to say.

“...I’m sorry?”

Audrey chuckled. “It’s been over a decade. I’m okay. But it’s a nice reminder. It’s why I’ve kept it, despite the ban.”

“I see.”

Reed looked away from Audrey, knowing it was her turn.

“I think it would be good, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Audrey said.

“We agreed, I guess, so I’ll talk about something.”

Reed circled her thumbs around each other, struggling to find the right words.

“...I haven’t...I don’t know...I haven’t talked with my family for a few years now.”

Audrey’s expression was full of warm sympathy. “What happened?”

Reed wasn’t about to go that far. “We had a fight,” was all she said.

“I see. Do you ever want to talk to them?”

“...I don’t know at this point. They’re all so special and I’m not. My dad runs a company, my mom’s doing diplomatic work in Bogota, and my brother...he’s everything they wanted me to be.”

Audrey placed a sympathetic hand on Reed’s shoulder. “Well, I think you’re pretty special.”

Reed let the hand sit there for a moment before gently removing it. “Thanks.”

Audrey stretched and let the somber mood dissipate into the night. “Well, did it feel good, talking about stuff like that? It was brief but I feel a lot better now.”

Reed looked out the window, searching for the moon. By now, it had passed its empty stage and started making those small steps to return to full again.

“It was alright.”

“So...” Loper said, sitting around in the stuck elevator.

“So...” Axelman answered.

“Do you think they forgot about us?” Loper asked.

“Forget about you? Probably. Me? Not a chance.”

“What makes you so memorable?”

Axelman shrugged. “The rugged good looks? The natural charisma?”

“Are you sure you’re not talking about me?” Loper said. “Your mother said I was made of marble.”

“Oh yeah, well, my dad could beat up your dad.”

“Not a chance. My dad gives out some pretty good beatings.”

“Not as good as my dad does.”

Loper stood up with his arms raised. “You take that back!”

“Make me,” Axelman answered, rising to the challenge.

The two stood, ready for some good old fashioned fisticuffs, when both of their stomachs rumbled.

They sighed in unison and slid back down to the elevator floor.

“Good thing we brought some food, huh?” Loper asked ruefully, looking at the uncooked rice and a rice cooker with no destination for its power cord.

Axelman sighed and laid down on his back, his hands behind his head.“I don’t even like rice. You know what I could use right now?”

“What’s that?”

Axelman smiled and closed his eyes.

“Some goddamn Ring Dings.”

NIGHTS LIKE THESE...