《Directorate: Nationbuilding in Apocalypse》Ch 14: Shackle of Command

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A mound of flesh on the ground writhed in fear, timidity, and other qualities instilled into it by the war-fanged Aurelia and Cain.

"Good work," James said. He walked down the hallway, Tali and Tristan following closely behind. They tiptoed around the hole in the floor, and stopped quite a ways away from the crazed tag team.

"With that, let me take my leave."

Aurelia looked at him, confused. He lied down on the floor and slept.

Right there. He just slept.

Aurelia couldn't believe it.

"A- Ah! James!" Tali cried, kneeling down and trying to shake him awake. He wouldn't wake up. Aurelia approached her, looking for an explanation.

"He hasn't been sleeping for the past few days!"

"What? Well, nevermind that. We have to get you all home."

On the other side, Cain approached Coronel and lightly kicked him in the shin. Coronel didn't budge. Cain scoffed and walked away.

Coronel really, really didn't want to talk to Cain in his current state.

Cain and Aurelia eyed each other. The responsibilities that James and Coronel fell asleep with had fallen on their shoulders.

They sent a nod towards each other, promptly turning away.

"Let's go home!"

"All units, we're pulling out."

Such responsibilities, they didn't want to deal with.

James awoke on his bed on the fourth floor of Diliman's Library. His room was a bright orange, and as messy as he had left it. He was shirtless, but still wore the same pants as he had before he crashed from fatigue.

—Ugh, my head…

He reached out for a bottle of water, to which Aurelia helped out by handing him one.

"Thanks—"

James stared at her.

"What are you doing here?"

Aurelia was seated some distance from his bed, and was wearing fresh new cargo pants and a loose shirt. A red bandana wrapped around the bullet hole in her head.

"Taking care of you, why?"

"No, I mean, you're not supposed to be here."

"I snuck in. Don't mind it."

She handed him a letter.

—I hope we can further our cooperation in the future, Mr. Castellano. 14.6514892510156, 121.04922351403843

"I have a lot of questions, but I think half of them can be answered if you just tell me what happened after I fell asleep."

"After you fell asleep? We left. The tough guy told me to meet the next day, so I did, then the smiley terminator guy gave me that," she said, pointing at the letter. "Ah, and, you've been out for a little over a day."

"The mess was just yesterday, huh?" James scratched his head. He looked down at the letter, then at Oreo. Her eyes sharpened once his met hers.

"Stupid."

"I know."

"Didn't even make up a decent plan. Who are you?"

"I— I know."

Aurelia stopped. Chiding him any further would waste their time.

"Can you stand?"

James took a moment to drink some water. He downed half the bottle.

"I've got shaky legs and half a brain. Is Karl around?"

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"He's in his room."

Aurelia stood up and moved towards the window. She stopped, remembering something, and leaned over to James' ear. "Don't forget, okay?" she whispered.

"No, yeah, I know. Just give me some time to recover."

Oreo jumped out the window. She wasn't supposed to be here, but it was easy enough for her to sneak in. Convenient enough, but Diliman's security needed better attention if it was so easy.

After changing into fresh denim pants and a white shirt, he grabbed a messenger bag and a beige hat. He popped into Karl's room, where the guy was busy meditating in the middle of his imaginary garden. He was squatting with his back straight and his shotgun on his lap.

"Karl," James called.

The guy suddenly appeared behind him. James paid no mind, and they continued down the hallway then down the stairs. As they did, James took a belt from his bag and wore it around himself, securing the revolver in the holster and the knife in its scabbard. The residents of the Library showed mild surprise as they passed by.

"Where's Tristan?" James asked.

"He's in the jail, under guard," Karl replied.

The two headed straight for the command center in the College of Arts and Science. Though it was the Guard Group's home, it also served as a nexus for combined operations.

On the way, guards and passersby alike couldn't help their surprise. James turned to Karl.

"Karl, why're they looking at me like I'm supposed to be dead?"

Karl's eye twitched. James sighed.

"You too, huh…"

Karl sighed.

"You should've just let the Guard Group sort themselves out."

"Instead of pulling an all-nighter to put together the data and write a report to convince them to stop going on looting runs? No way. It's sucking everyone's resources dry and that includes us."

They entered the command center on the third floor.

There, the heads of the Guard Group, Medical Group, Crafting Group, and Farming Group gathered. They didn't notice James come in.

"Our supply situation's critical! About half of our stock's already expired, and it's impossible enough as it is to find any working cold storage units!"

Everyone was looking at details provided by Dr. Mendosa in their clipboards. The woman herself looked to be in her 40's. She was wearing a simple shirt and pants.

"There's little we can do," Charlie shook his head. The former security guard wore a simple shirt and cargo pants, as well as a handgun holstered to his side. "James advised us that without proper training, any further looting runs by the Guard Group would just result in more losses."

"Then, can't you just train?"

"No. Even if our food situation is stable, you've already seen it, haven't you?"

"Yeah, nutrient deficiency… I'd nag on George for this, but…"

"H- Hey, hey, we're doing the best we can!" an older gentleman waved his hands in surrender. For some reason, he still wore his paddy hat indoors. "We're making good on a reserve stock of root crops, but we lack crop diversity. The soil's health itself is also iffy, and the compost bins are just barely keeping up!"

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James walked up to Lewis. The Crafting Group head, youngest of all, was taken aback for a moment.

"What's going on here?" James whispered.

"Awake? Well, we're running dry on meds."

Seeing that Lewis was speaking, everyone turned their attention to him, only to be shocked by James' presence.

"Ah, Scout Head," Charlie greeted, "Like Dr. Mendosa said, we need—"

"Supplies, yeah, I know, everyone always needs supplies, and when they don't, they do…"

"James, are you okay?" Dr. Mendosa asked.

"Barely. I won't be heading out myself for a while, thank you."

"That said, Scout Head, we—"

"Please wait. There's something more important than that that I have to discuss with you all. Closed door discussion."

"Something… more important than medical supplies?" George parroted.

James nodded.

Hands waved around as their faces took on complicated expressions. James genericized some parts of his explanation—Aurelia's existence had turned into a "sentient Unkillable friendly to us," while the Bio-Police's existence was chalked up to a "covert outfit with mysterious goals."

—This should soften the shock of the truth down the line.

"Wait, before we discuss further, about Tristan… What are we going to do with him?" Charlie asked.

"Are you asking us or are you asking me?" James asked.

"The first opinion goes to you. Is that okay?"

"If it comes to that, then I think giving him the same treatment as the other penalized guards should be fine."

"James, that's rather lenient. Though I have the same opinion, I need to ask—why?" Mendosa asked.

"After what happened yesterday, he's no longer a threat to anyone but himself."

"But himself?"

"He's still the same person who lashed out and practically secluded himself after Aurelia's death. That kind of trauma… You know what I want to say, right?"

Mendosa nodded.

Seeing that everyone was of the same thought, James continued.

"Then, onto the matter of the Bio-Police, I want to handle making deals with them."

"Aren't you handling enough?"

Karlson spoke up this time. The other heads were surprised that see that he had shadowed James the entire time. It's not as if his presence wasn't permitted, but…

—Stop doing that, goddamnit.

They were all of the same mind.

"Your friend's right. James, you'll be taking too many responsibilities with this."

"Which is why I want to pass on the title of Scout Group Head to Karlson."

—Huh? Me? Scout Head?

"James, I don't think—"

"Karl—and everyone here—for the past few months, my job hasn't been scouting, has it?"

Everyone thought the same thoughts—Is this it? Is he finally assuming direct control of Diliman?

"That said, I'm not voting myself supreme chancellor with a 140% voter turnout rate."

Charlie clicked his tongue. Mendosa collapsed to her knees, while Lewis chuckled as he won their bet. George didn't really have any particular reaction and kept smiling.

"Why?!"

Karlson's reaction spooked even James.

'Why?' he said?—James tilted his head in confusion.

"It's a pain? Obviously?"

"What? That's it?"

A hint of disappointment snaked through Karl's words.

—Ah, this ain't good. I gotta take care of this right now.

"It's because it's not fair," James stated matter-of-factly, "You'll place all your hopes on me, then when I fail, even after doing everything right, then it's still my fault—even after I do everything right, you hear me?

"At some point, I will fail. Even after putting everything I know to work to come up with something that no one else would have ever thought of, and I fail, people would still simply think, 'This guy won't cut it, let's replace him with another.' There's no room for growth. You think I'll stand for that?

"James, I don't think—"

"Doctor, majority of the people here voted for actors and songwriters for our politicians. A singular position of leadership will easily become a target of resentment in their eyes, and as well, they shouldn't learn to rely on only one person. They shouldn't learn that all hopes lie in one person. Something like that is just too flimsy—one person dies and poof everyone takes a morale hit."

A silence passed them by. James sighed, expelling the bad air in himself, before continuing.

"Like I was saying… I'd like to create a small organization dedicated to managing information. Not a records department, but something close to what I've been doing. Teaching, connecting the right people, analyzing intel, and making informed suggestions—something to that effect. We have a lot of resources and a lot of people, so information-sharing and collaboration can bring a lot more benefits for us."

"Connecting the right people, intel, suggestions… Dude… That's a shadow government, you know?"

At Karlson's remark, everyone nodded in agreement.

"Boss, I didn't think you wanted to escape accountability that bad," Charlie added. James shook his head hard and waved his hands trying to gain back attention.

"Wait—hey! It's a—uh… consultancy! Don't accuse me like that!"

"Oh dear me—a consultancy? That's a fantastic front for a shadow government," Mendosa playfully said.

As soon as the racket calmed down, James finally ended on this note.

"First thing's first, I'll make sure the conditions are right for me to step down. The Bio-Police gave us the coordinates to a meeting spot, so first I'll see if I can wring something good out of them. If the situation improves and we get good breathing room, I'm sure Karl here won't complain too much about it."

"I'm already complaining, though."

—Though I wouldn't be putting you through this if you'd just made some friends… I had no choice.

The meeting concluded without any objections. James would use the remaining hours for rest, and they would meet the Bio-Police tomorrow.

Coronel read the message on his tablet.

—Expanded access to the Contract System has been granted.

He only had to hope that Mr. Castellano would bite.

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