The Five Unnecessaries

Chapter 3

The stone Arches towered above me, so beautiful that my eyes stayed on them despite bumping into people next to me. Each Arch grew higher and wider, awakening a feeling of vastness I never knew in any other place in the Territory. The stone and marble pillars stretched across the arena below, with ten feet of clear, blue sky between each arch. Even though the Arches were spread apart, the carvings on them formed a single mural across the sky, with the clouds moving through it like waves.

The wind pushed at my back, propelling me forward. The room always felt natural and open, so unlike the government buildings in the Republic. I remembered Megan would walk through one of the stoic, white buildings holding her breath that she would live. I became queasy with fear again.

I thought of leaving, but I wanted to support Megan. Besides, I wasn't allowed to leave, by order of the Council. The Council never wanted to appear overbearing. They were fair and just, although never perfect. Some citizens of the Territory still felt ignored, timely laws were not passed fast enough, and fathers grumbled about politics while chopping wood or doing dishes. But for the most part, our people adored the Council and the High Counselor, Richard Eldridge.

Eldridge rarely spoke, but when he did, it mattered. He left the squabbling among lower-ranking members of the Council. He focused solely on the Protectors' training and development. Some called him obsessed for staying in his office instead of holding press conferences, meditating in prayer instead of attending meetings, and disregarding some of the most luxurious attributes of being High Counselor. He would give up his spacious rooms to sleep on the floor in Central until he knew Protectors were safely home. His critics would accuse him of incompetence, but his supporters would label it passion.

I kept moving walking under the Arches. I recognized my friend's mother, who gave up her seats when they saw us coming up the aisle. My mom thanked her, and we squeezed into the last few seats. I was on the end and as people passed, I soaked in their expressions and words. Some were reverent, others passionate, others impatient for the evening's events. I hoped to write them down in words later, the bits and pieces of truth hidden in this canvas; the tear creased in a wrinkle under the one woman's eye, the stage engineers moving the microphone and quickly taking it away again, who was pulled into her seat by a scolding mother after she was caught flirting with a boy, a couple rushing to their seats, a pregnant woman surrounded by admirers. All of them would put their lives on hold for a few minutes to hear Eldridge summarize our two-hundred-year history, sounding like my father on the train. Then Head Trainer Hannah McKinney would name twenty-six Protectors.

Someone came across the stage and welcomed us all to the commissioning of the 188th generation. I recognized him but couldn't remember his name. As people settled into their seats ready to listen, he left the microphone and walked back behind the stage.

I turned to look at my father, only to see his confusion. A few whispers rose above the silence until it grew to a buzzing murmur. People continued their conjecture as a stranger came across the stage. I hadn't seen him before, but he was not wearing a grey linen suit like all of those before him. He wore white, like the Protectors and trainers. He took a breath and spoke with an authority I hadn't expected from his nervous demeanor.

"My name is Commander Luke Patterson, and I am, as of a few days ago, the new Head Trainer and director of the 188th Generation."

I strained my memory. Had we pushed the usual history lesson aside for a speech from the new Head Trainer? I realized that I had no memory of anyone other than Hannah McKinney being the Head Trainer. I listened to Patterson run through some of his credentials, which sounded impressive. He joked that he once got outwitted by Bridgett, a very famous Protector from a few years ago, and that comment eased some of the concern with laughter. His expression would shift from focused to playful, as if trying to cut the tension that began with this announcement.