Junk Magician

Chapter 1; Captive Audience

"Don't you realize you're turning down your freedom?" A furious old man slammed the paper-smothered table with his fists. A series of bulbs illuminated the interrogation cell with an uncomfortable glow. As the light was overhead, the only shadows were directly underneath the men.

"I've already served ten, what's it matter if I'm here ten more?" The man in cuffs sat relaxed in his chair, refusing to let a raised voice move him. 

"You can't be serious!" The old man held his forehead as he groaned. "Do I need to explain the deal again?" The man in cuffs held out his wrist in front of himself. He examined it closely, as if a watch was wrapped around it.

"I have time." He mocked.

"Fine." The old man scowled. "My name is Hans Allium. The boys here call me Commissioner Allium. The group I represent is known as the Cataclysm Prevention Agency, also known as the CPA. We're a branch of the military, but we specialize in black ops that even they aren't aware of. We have a job that needs doing, and I believe that you're our man."

"No thanks, gramps. I kinda like prison life." 

"Don't lie to me, Dimitri! I know you want-"

"You first." Dimitri muttered.

"...Pardon?"

"What am I really signing up for? 'Cause if you think I'll participate in the Conquests, think again."

"Mr. Price! The CPA has nothing to do with the Conquests!" Hans bellowed with laughter. "The closest we get to it is when we send our agents out during the Years of Rest. They cultivate their assigned area, and then we bring them back before the fighting starts."

"And you want me to be one of your obedient spies?"

"I see. That's why you're fighting it. Dimitri... why don't you explain your feelings about Arcadia's greatest tradition?"

"A couple years before they locked me up, I met a father of two. Apparently, his hometown was taken in the last Conquest. He and his neighbors were told that if they surrendered peacefully, that they would be guaranteed safety and stability as a citizen of Arcadia. But..." Dimitri struggled to speak, as his anger and sadness welled up inside of him. It twisted his tongue into a shape that couldn't be used for words.

"Let me guess... Was it the Conquest of '56?"

"Yeah." 

"I understand. In fact, I feel the same as you." Hans assumed a similar reclined position that Dimitri had held. 

"As if! Not only are you lying through your teeth, but you're doing it to get me on your side! How low are you going to stoop just to get me into your little club?"

"I'm not lying, Dimitri. Don't you know why we founded the CPA? I never want to see another tragedy like it again. And thanks to our efforts, it's easier and safer to take in the peoples of the old world. Our whole agency is dedicated to the cause of never having a year like it again. Besides, our field agents are only one of our three divisions."

"And the other two?"

"One's for rehabilitating new citizens, and the other for sweeping any accidents under the rug. So, does this mean you're interested now?"

"If you want me so badly, you're putting me in one of those two. Do you understand, Commissioner?"

"Of course I do. Mind making a choice then? Would you like to join the Rehab Division, or the Keepers?"

"Let's flip a coin. Heads says Rehab, and tails for the Keepers."

"I'm fine with that." Commissioner Allium produced a penny from the old world. "Oh! If it turns out you don't like your lot, I'll let you transfer anytime."