The Ambuloks

The Beginning

Ren was struck by the man's round belly and plump, rosy, grandfatherly cheeks that rested above a salt and pepper beard, more grey than black. What surprised her wasn't that he was a large man, though he certainly was, it was the indulgent vitality that accompanied it. She'd never seen someone so... hearty.

"Aut-Ren, I'm so glad you could join me," he said, without addressing Benny.

Ren glanced behind her and saw Benny standing still and silent in the corner of the room. She understood then that this was her meeting. Benny had simply acted as a conductor.

With a flick of his wrist, this new, large man dismissed Gill and sat comfortably in one of the red chairs.

"Sit, sit," he said, "No need to be shy. My name is Jermayne- there's no need for formality. I called you here today to discuss something rather... sensitive. I've heard some good things about you. One not of little consequence is that you have a reputation of keeping your confidences."

Unlinke Gill, when Ren looked him over, Jermayne seemed to be authentically good natured instead of just well mannered. His expression was warm and open, hardly wrapped in the usually heavy and stifling language much of leadership business was conducted in.

Ren was still uneasy.

She couldn't help but look back again at Benny, trying to reach for some reassurance Ren knew he wasn't in a position to give. In the presence of authority, Benny's playful and eccentric personality became neutered. Ren couldn't say she blamed him.

It felt like an ocean of time passed in the seconds it took her to cross the room and sit on the far side of the couch, but she did, resisting the urge to touch the fabric and instead pressing her hands firmly into her own lap.

Her muscles felt sprung tight, like she was preparing to flee. Which, of course, even if she was, not only was there sure to be security but there was nowhere for her to go. As she momentarily fantasized about a bold escape, Ren realized that a part of her was actually resigned. She had always thought that this meeting would be an inevitability. The spiral had always been her prison and the Road was a path to her execution. Although, she hadn't pictured it to be so civil. She hadn't pictured any sort of pretense.

Behind her eyes, she remembered the very real blood stains her father had left on their floor and heard his grunts as steel-toed boots ruptured his insides. She imagined what torture he had endured. She imagined how he had died, picturing his eyes that looked so much like her own fading as life left his body.

Ren had thought her own fate was destined to be the same, but here she sat, looking Jermayne in the eye, invited in the guise of a guest. Something felt wrong about his easy smile. Ren couldn't put her finger on it until she realized that it felt wrong because it didn't feel manufactured. It felt real. Why did it feel real?

As she looked at him, Ren couldn't reconcile her own grief and fear and horror with the man in front of her. And his hospitality was just as puzzling.

Jermayne's smile was full of sympathy and gentleness that was rare in the Spiral where there was an attitude of work and no play. Any self-indulgence could be better spent on contribution and part of that contribution included rooting out any of your neighbors who spent their time on self-indulgence.

"Ren," Jermayne said, leaning forward, a bit awkwardly because of his large stomach, "the Spiral needs you."

Ren held herself very still and fought not to portray her emotions and preconceptions, feeling like it would hasten her doom, which it could. She was watched.

A moment of silence grew before she realized that Jermayne was waiting for her to respond.

"How?" Ren asked with a stiff tongue, before forcing herself to add, "Sir."