|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
It would be so easy just to just jump...
A red sun illuminated the skies over the city of November and gave sign that a new day was dawning. An orange sky with very few clouds were before the young man as he contemplated the view from the rooftop of one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city. Around him, he knew that he was in one of the richest cities in the world, as he looked at the circulating traffic that started to amass itself on the streets of the city-island of November. He also knew that off the island, on the its north shore and its south shore, there were places where people lived unbearably difficult lives in miserable conditions. Yet somehow, the young man felt that he envied these people who inhabited the Junkyards… Though they may be living harsh lives, they didn't have to bear the responsability of trying to free entire populations of people from an oppressive regime. He was proud to be helping in the fight to free these people, but he felt as if there was simply too much responsability on his shoulders, that It was threatening to pull him down completely and eventually drown him into millions' of people's misery. It was a consequence he was not ready to live through and that was why he swore he would do all that was in his power not to fail these people. The young man knew that his parents' exploits in the past were reverred by the media's and the public's eyes, and soon, he would have to live up to their legend. Again, more responsabiliy that threatened to pull him down and drown him with the public's dissapointment. The young man knew that this was the last day that the world would be at peace, that another war would be declared today… And that It was his responsability to succeed.
This young man was dressed in the traditional uniform of a corporative soldier; black jacket, black pants, black tie and a white shirt with one small star pin on his collar, identifying him as a corporal in a corporate army. A few accessories on him cleared away the notion of him being a serious soldier , those accessories being his chain wallet that he wore on the left side of his pants, the sunglasses he put in his hair to hold them back like a bandana, and skateboarding/running shoes that he wore on his feet instead of traditional boots. The army had accepted its soldiers wearing whatever shoes they felt comfortable in for the last fifty years and the young man could hardly imagine himself in service with such uncomfortable shoes as those traditional boots.
At six feet tall, he was at an average height and also of an average build, not big, not slim, just average. His light brown hair was much longer than most soldiers usually wear them, at about five inches long, they covered his eyes when he let them loose nd that could be fatal, even if only for a moment. But that was why he had these sunglasses to hold them back, and a bandana in his pockets just in case. His eyes were of a deep green and were melancolic by nature, as melancolic as the form of his lips when he could force himself to smile.
A slightly cool spring wind caressed him as he looked towards the sky and he approached the edge of the rooftop. He took off his jacket, revealing a handgun holster over his shirt that was made of leather. Inside the holster was a loaded gun and he knew It. He put the jacket on the roof top and saw that the wind threatened to make It fly away. So he took off the holster also and put it on his jacket as a weight to keep it there. He untucked his shirt and loosened his tie and went to sit on the ledge of the rooftop, both of his legs hanging over the city.
« It would be easy just to let myself fall from here, he thought, a hundred-twenty story fall would end all this quickly, no more responsabilities, no more living up to anybody's expectations, no big loss… »
He returned quickly to his senses from that moment of weakness and decided to take his pack of cigarettes and light it. As the soothing smoke went down his throat, the young man looked at his watch, and saw that It was 6 :30 a.m. , wich meant he wouldn't have to return to duty for at least half an hour.
« Good, he thought, It leaves me more time to get a good look at this city while It's still at peace. I'd better enjoy It because in the next few months, tanks, duels, firefights and bombings will be disturbing the calm of this city more and more often. And the worst part is, I'll be involved in disturbing the city's peace. »
The young man heard somebody walking on the rooftop's gravel behind him who was heading towards his position. He was a sitting duck where he was right now, his handgun being out of reach, and his body being in such a dangerous position right now… A single shot on him and he'd be plumetting down to his death…The only thing he could do right now was to turn around and identify who was this other soul that was on this roof with him.
As he was turning around, he recognised the soft and friendly feminine voice that greeted him.
« At ease Corporal Vincent Allard-Forest ! No need to leave from that comfortable spot where you're sitting »
Vincent finished turning around and looked at the lady that was behind him. He gave her a mocking grin that could be perceived as lacking of respect to her and turned back to his view of the city. The lady behind was the Director of the Free Lands Alliance,current owner of AppolloCorps, (one of the biggest and most powerful of the eight corporations of the world ) and one of the greatest heroes of the Third Corporative War, Marianne Forest…She was also his mother.
She was a short woman, no more than five foot and four inches tall and very slim. She hardly showed any signs of her age on her young wrinkle-free face even though she was nearing her fifties at the age of forty-nine. She had the same melancolic green eyes that Vincent had, a small nose and large lips that sported a beautiful smile at the moment. Her short blonde hair was combed to her right in a picture perfect way. The medias had often praised this woman's naturally preserved beauty.
Her clothes were simple enough, a grey jacket, with a a matching grey skirt, and a white shirt underneath her her jacket. Her stockings were black and she had a pair of black high-heeled shoes.
The fact that a few of his friends had openly told him that they were actually attracted to his mother sprung up in Vincent's mind and made him grin for a short moment.
« How did you know I was here Director Forest ? » asked Vincent in a joking manner, smiling to himself without leaving his eyes from the city.
« Oh cut that crap, Vincent, no need to be formal here right now.. And by now, you should know that a mother knows her son best, right ? » replied Marianne in a mocking yet very soft tone.
Vincent pulled a last drag from his cigarette and put out it next to him before throwing the butt on the rooftop. As he spat out the remaining smoke that he had in his lungs, he stood up from his spot, stood up and walked towards his mother, showing her only a forced grin that he felt obliged to give her.
His maternal figure was in front of him, looking at him with motherly love that she usually couldn't display in public and It made him feel a warm all over inside.
« Mom, It's been awhile since we last spoke hasn't It ? » he managed to say in a soft and tender way as he put back on his holster and his jacket, never leaving his eyes off her.
« It has been a while indeed, Vincent…You didn't even keep contact with your father and myself during your 3 years of service with the Wild Cards… All news that we got from you was from your two friends, Quentin and « Hobbes » or from your sisters… And since you enrolled with AppolloCorps' armed forces three weeks ago, you haven't even sent any news to your father and me telling us about it, we learned that you were working for us from your commanding officer, Captain Philip Cunningham…»
Vincent's heart skipped a beat as he heard his mother mention the Wild Cards and felt a feeling of nausea rush up to him. His years of service with the mercenary squad known as Daniel Swift's WildCards had ended in a most disastrous way. Yet another event that would make Vincent Allard-Forest whine about his past. His friend, Quentin, always told Vincent that he lived in the past too much, that he didn't give enough thought about the present and let his past guide him too much. Vincent knew that Quentin was right, but for some reason, even if the past was buried in his heart somewhere, It would always come back to the surface to haunt him.
« Vincent, whatever may happen…You're my son…My special little boy, and I love you…It hurts me so much that you would leave your father and me behind in your life without saying so much as a word. »
His mother's words being so honest and touching, the young corporal took a deep breath, and felt a lump in his throat that kept him from answering right away. And the fastest way to kill these lumps, he knew from experience, is to smoke a cigarette… not the healthiest way, but still the fastest way. So he took out his pack of cigarettes and lit another one puffing it down.
« Mom… I never meant to hurt you. You know I couldn't care less about dad, but I truly never meant to hurt you… »
Vincent took another pause before continuing. He couldn't afford to screw this up and had to chose his words carefully. He took another drag off his cigarette.
«You say that a mother knows her son best, so you know that I have always detested favoritism… And favoritism as something that was always in front of me because I was Marianne Forest's and Mathew Allard's son. When Quentin, « Hobbes » and myself were kicked out of the AppolloCorps Academy of Superior Millitary Training and Studies, dad had offered the three of us positions as junioe officers in the army, and as you know, both Quentin and « Hobbes » accepted but I refused his offer. I hooked up with Colonel Swift and his Wild Cards because of my abilities and what I knew, not because of my name and legacy. I didn't keep in touch you during that tie because I was so sure you were very dissapointed of what I had done. Near the end of my service with the Wild Cards, I was almost sure that I had done enough to make you proud of me and I was about to get in touch with you again…But… »
Images of his last few days with the Wild Cards popped up in his mind again, making him feel nauseous once more. He managed to get these images out of his mind as he looked at his mother and saw that she was listening to him attentively.
« But what had happened with Corporal Matheson and Private Hans Dexter in the end…, he continued struggling with the words he wanted to use, I simply thought that anything I did that might have made you proud would not be considered anymore… I joined up with our regular armed forces as communications officer because I really wanted to fight for what was right, but I couldn't bear to see the look in your eyes if you had learned of the things I had done… I …I… »
Marianne Forest approached her son and held him in her arms and he hugged her back. He was holding back tears but one still managed to get out nd run down his cheek.
« Vincent, you are my son, and I am proud of everything that you have done and of everything that you will do. I have faith in you and in decsions that you have taken and will take. You are a good person and I am so proud to have given birth to a child as special as you. I spoke to Colonel Swift a few days ago and he wanted to me to tell you again that he was terribly sorry of how things ended between you and the Wild Cards, that he still considers you to be one of the finest soldiers he had ever had the honor of having under his command, and that he would be honored If the two of you were to tay good friends after this whole fiasco… Both decisions that you have taken that have gained you trouble in the past are good decisions. They were against the rules but they were both the morally correct things to do . Laws were basically the guidelines that people needed to live in society, but I know that you are a good enough person to bend the rules when you see that It has to be done. I am sorry that I couldn't get you out of trouble both times, Vincent…With all the authority I have over this company, I can't even get my own son out of trouble when he needs It the most… »
This time It was Marianne's turn to feel like crying, but unlike her son, she let the tears flow down freely. Vincent squeezed his mother just a little harder to comfort her.
« Mom. You don't have to worry about me. You have made me feel alot better by just saying that you were really proud of me. I detest favoritism, remember ? he said in a comforting tone, I can get myself out of any trouble that I cause to myself more easily now that I know that I have never dissapointed you… I'm really sorry I hurt you like that… »
« Oh Vincent, you remind me so much of your father… » she said still crying.
The young man found that remark to be rather bizarre, considering the fact that he and his father had nothing In common. Mathew Allard had always been a no-nonsense by-the-book soldier who never displayed his feelings towards anybody, getting the job done no matter what sacrifice had to be done. And that was why he was AppolloCorps Secretary of Defense today, he was ready to sacrifice anything and anybody for victory, never letting feelings cloud his judgment. Vincent was far from being like his father and was a bit more idealistic than his father concerning what had to be done. But he decided to let that comment go and disregard what his mother had just said.
Eventually, the mother and son hug ended and both of them took a step back. Marianne Forest wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at her son smiling.
« I'm glad to have you back Vincent… »
« So am I mom, so am I… » answered Vincent in a soft whispering voice.
A moment of silence was present from that moment on as the only sounds that mother ad son could hear were the songs that the wind played and the sounds of the birds who visited the AppolloCorps' building,s rooftop. Vincent realised that the cigarette he had lit a few moments ago had burned itself almost completely with him taking very few drags off It. He threw it aside, disgusted of his bad habit and looked at the woman in front of him again. And he then realised that with one problem solved, there was another big one that was being posed.
« You are aware that we are in a very serious situation with Craven's Economic Cartel right now, are you mom? » said Vincent in a rather direct manner because he simply had no idea how to bring up this subject in a more delicate way.
« Yes Vincent, I'm aware… I got the message from Captain Cunningham at 4 :00 a.m. . He told me that you had intercepted, decoded, and let that message through to FALLEN without them knowing we had knowledge of what they were planning. Yes Vincent, I am aware that the Fourth Economic War will without any doubt be declared today. » she answered
« And do you think we are ready for them? » asked the young man in a concerned way.
Marianne Forest looked to her right and saw a pigeon who's wing was broken next to her. The small bird tried to fly away but in vain. Every step it took to fly away seemed to hurt It even more as it chirped in pain with each move that It did. Marianne bent over and pickep up the wounded bird and held It in both of her palms.
« I honestly don't know Vincent… The Cartel managed to gather alot of ressources in the last 24 years, while we were struggling to survive. What I am about to tell you here is confidential information, Vincent, and I'm not telling you this because you are my son, I'm telling you this because I know you can be trusted with keeping this info for yourself : the Alliance is in a very pitiable state. Yes, Crime Industries' army is at 100% operational strength, but Light Tower and AppolloCorps together are at but a mere 60 % operational strength. And as far as our Intelligence Department knows, the Cartel is at its full operational strength. »
As Marianne Forest was informing Vincent of the rather negative statistics, she was making a bandage for the pigeon she held in her hands with a handkerchief she had in her pockets. Vincent couldn't help but notice how his mother was so skillfull in helping out the wounded bird. She somehow managed to calm down the bird who was originally chirping frantically when she first picket It up. The pigeon seemed even comfortable in her hands.
« Vincent, I'll have to return to my office and go back to work now…It was very nice to have this talk with you, but duty calls. I'm glad to have you back aboard with me. »
« So am I mom, so am I. » answered the young officer as he looked towards his mother while she was heading for the entrance on the rooftop that would lead to the stairs inside the AppolloCorps building with the pigeon in her hands.
Vincent glanced at his watch to see that he still had a good ten minutes before he was on duty again and shook his head. He looked one more time at the city that surrounded him and swore that he would do all he could possibly do to make a difference in this fight against oppression and injustice. But deep down, he knew that he was destined to fail in the eyes of the public, the medias, his parents and all the oppressed people of the Junkyards. The « words destined to fail » kept on ringing in his head as he went towards the building's entrance and decided that he should return to duty. Dark days were up ahead, and he knew that his views of the world wouldn't help him get through those days at all…
