There rebels, that is why they are on the run. I never would have guessed that, explains a lot, “They started a rebellion.” I ask.
“Yes, very dangerous individuals, people like that need to be taken care of, captured. So no one can be hurt by them again.” Kazimir says.
“I don’t understand they were Brotherhood, why would they rebel?” I ask.
“Well, apparently they weren’t happy with all of Eden’s citizens having food, living free of a mask, sleeping at night knowing they have a job, and making a living for themselves. Some people can’t be pleased.” Kazimir says with a smirk.
They way he puts it, they do sound dangerous. Why would anyone rebel against a world free of masks, a world where no one ever has to worry about starving? Yet at the same time, I can’t help but wonder if there is something he is not telling me. Nothing makes sense anymore, for the first time in my life I yearn for the simplicity of the Wastes.
“I can tell you are confused, not sure what to think about it all, that is understandable.” Kazimir speaks as if he is able to read my very thoughts. Kazimir gets up and makes his way to the door. “Please use my quarters as your own, dinner will be in a few hours.” He says, “Perhaps then we can talk, oh and be sure to use the shower, I am sure someone of the Wastes will find it divine.” He leaves me with only one thought, what the heck is a shower.
The room is like nothing I have ever seen before, it is clean and neat. Not spot of dirt or dust. It is strange to think that people in this world actually live like this. I mean it is as if they bombs never touched them. As if they rest of the world went up into flames as they watched from the safety of their couches. My body returns to me, reaching for the water I hold it for a second before bringing it to my lips. The water is clear, not spec in it, cold and cool. Kashmir was right; I have never tasted anything like this before. This is not the recycled swill I have been drinking for most of my life. To think people use to take water for granted a commodity as readily available as air. I have to laugh, even clean air is hard to come by nowadays.
Pouring myself another glass I begin to take in the rest of the room. Everything is new, nothing bears the slightest sign of use, and it’s as if the room was created moments earlier, just for me. Must be nice to live in this world, a world where every day is not a fight for survival. Sitting there I can’t help but wonder why anyone would rebel against this. Most people back in Haven would kill just to live like this for a day, not even Hyde lives like this, sure he has more connivance then most people, but still his mansion carries the signs of the Wastes. He still wears a mask outside of the filtered safety of his estate. I wonder how much clean water would be worth to him; I think for a moment about bringing some back, I decide to keep this form myself.
The door slides open and a boy not much older than fourteen enters the room, his skin has a reddish tint to it and hair black as night falls down his neck. “Sir, I was told by Commander Kazimir to bring you some clothes and run a shower for you.” His voice is soft and weak, as if terrified. What could this child have to fear, not I could he.
“Oh, it is ok, you don’t have to.” I say. “No I do, Commander Kazimir made it clear that I am to do as ordered.” The boy continues into the room placing the clothing on the bed. The bed, soft with fresh sheets, I can’t help but hope I get to sleep in it.
“The shower is this way sir.” I follow him as he leads me into another room, this one I know as a bathroom, but again this is nothing compared back to the communal bathhouse back in Haven, which is basically a few holes in the ground. With the press of a few buttons water begins to fall from the faucet. I am in shock at the waste of water which is apparent in my face.
“It is ok sir; we have plenty of water for all of your needs.”
Sticking out my hand I allow the water to fall upon it, warm to the touch. They have heated water too; I was born to the wrong parents.
“I have no clued what I am supposed to do here?” I say.
The boy hides a laugh behind his hand, “Sir, you use it to clean yourself, there is soap and shampoo over there.”
“So I just get in?” I ask.
“Yes!” He is thoroughly amused by this, but hides his smile once again behind his hand.
Removing my gown I enter the shower, at first the warmth of the water make me step back, I don’t instead I allow the fresh clean water the rain down upon my body. Placing my hands upon the wall before me I tilt my head downward and allow the water to wash down my back. I stand a moment longer before I begin to wash. Turning my attention to the soap and shampoo I call out, “hey you!”
The boy stands in the doorway ensuring not to enter, “Sir?”
“You mentioned something about soap and shampoo.” I say.
He hesitates before answering, “The shampoo is used to wash your hair, and soap for your body.”
It takes a few trail runs but I manage to figure out how to use the soap and shampoo. I don’t think I have been this clean since the day I was born. We have cleansing powder back in Haven but all that really does it remove the smell. I have to take a moment and smell myself; I no longer smell of filth, I believe this is the smell of what the elders call fruit. I take the towel the boy left for me and wrap in around myself. The clothing which is neatly folded on the bed seems is a basic black jumpsuit bearing the Brotherhood insignia on the right chest, I guess I can’t expect anything fancy being a military ship and all. I have to take a moment and smell myself, I no longer smell of filth, but now of something unknown to me.
“Sir, do you need me to explain that to you as well?” He says with a laugh, “Sorry Sir, I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.”
“It’s ok; you don’t have to be afraid of me.” I say.
“Still sir, I should have not spoken out of place.” He looks at the ground.
“What is your name?” I ask.
“Servant Dyami Motega” He says softly, from his tone of voice it is clear that people do not ask his name very often.
Dyami stares at the ground not daring to make eye contact with me. It is clear that there is some sort of rank or class structure, he clearly sees me as higher than him, “Well, Dy.” He cuts me off.
“Most people wish I would sir.” A joke, this is a clear sign the boy trusts me.
I have to laugh, “You’re pretty funny.”
For the first time since he has entered Dyami makes eye contact with me. It is not hard to make out the confusion behind the brown in his eyes. “Look you don’t have to treat me like them, I am a Waster.”
“Commander Kazimir informed me that I am to treat him as I would any other member of the Soldier Class.”
“Well, I am no Soldier, so you can treat me as any other friend.” I say.
“I don’t have any friend’s sir!” He says almost embarrassed to bring it up.
I extend my hand, “Well now you do.”
After I get dressed Dyami brings me to the dining room, once again I am amazed. The room is brightly lit, with the ceiling made entirely of window. I can see the night sky above; the stars shine down upon us as if they were putting on a private show just for me. In the center of the room is a long table made of thick and polished wood. Clearly it is only the finest of things for members of the Brotherhood. Commander Kazimir sits at the head of the table; he is joined by several other member of the Brotherhood.
“Sir!” Dyami pulls out a chair for me; we decided that we would keep up the act in front of everyone else.
“Thank you boy!” This is the response Dyami told me I was to give, remain polite but superior.
“You look good, all clean and looking sharp.” Kazimir says, “I hope you are finding our hospitality adequate.”
“I would have been happy with a hard cot.” I say.
All laugh; I get the feeling that they are amused by the Waster before them, as if I am some sort of animal here for their amusement. As if the laughter was a cue servants start to bring food into the room. Each servant is dressed in neat white uniforms with matching gloves and shoes. They carry plates topped with silver covers and present each meal individually to the party attendees. When it is my turn to receive my meal the smell alone makes my mouth water. This is no Waste dog.
“It’s called a steak; it comes from a cow, no mutations.” Kazimir says.
I can’t help myself I dive in, tearing off pieces of meat and shoving them in my mouth almost to the point that I don’t even taste the wonderful presences of the food. It almost melts in my mouth, unlike Waste dog which has a rotten and bitter flavor to it, this is almost sweet. Taking a moment to breath I notice that everyone in the room is staring at me, all sit quietly fork and knife in hand, mouths open. Apparently hands are not the approved method of eating within the Brotherhood.
Kazimir slowly and calmly places his fork and knife down, he then takes a piece of cloth and wipes his mouth. He sits for a moment before grabbing his steak with both hands and ripping a large chuck of meat off with his mouth.
“When in the Wastes, do as the Wasters do.” He says with a laugh.
Everyone once else follows suit and in moments everyone is hands deep into their meal, food is flying every ware. It is glorious.
“More wine for this feeding frenzy.” Kazimir says with a wave of his hand.
Wine, I have had alcohol before, but not like this. Back in Haven we have moonshine, which is made from grain and burns as it goes down and if you drink too much as it come back up. This is bitter and sweet at the same time and bears a similar smell the soap from before. Before long dinner is over and all are stuffed, I have never experienced such a full feeling in my life, I honestly don’t think I will need to eat again for a month. As if rehearsed the party stands and excuse them. Besides the few servants who are cleaning the mess that was left upon the table. There is only myself and Kazimir left in the dining room.
“Know down to business.” Kazimir says, “The matter of our little rebel friends, why did they seek you out?
“They wanted me to be there guide, before that I never met them.” I say.
Kazimir takes a long sip from his wine glass, “Well that is good, for a moment I thought you might have been there contact out here in the Wastes.”
“I’m a Wastelander sir, I look out for myself and that is it, I don’t have any interest in rebellions.” I say.
That remarks seems to put a smile on Kazimir face, “Then we can be friends.”
An uneasy feeling comes over me at the thought of being friends with Kazimir; something still doesn’t sit right with me about him. He seems friendly and caring but I can tell there is something brewing behind those cold grey eyes of his, as if he is always planning, trying to remain one step ahead of everyone.
“What do you think of the Brotherhood?” He asks.
“I think they live lush lavish lives of waste, while the people of the Wastes starve to death.” I realize after it came out that I probably should have not said that.
Kazimir sits in silence for a moment, “I agree.” He says, “That is why, on behalf of the Brotherhood I wish to bring civilization to these lands.”
What does the brotherhood want in the Wastes, we have nothing to offer. There has to be something, a reason, as I said before, I don’t trust Kazimir, his wheels are always spinning.
Kazimir lets out a sigh before speaking, “I have a proposal for you, you said our friends were using you as a guide, I assume to take them to Haven.” He rubs his hands together slowly before continuing, “Help me find them and I will ensure that you are the one that gets recognized as the hero that brings life to this dead land.” He places his elbows on the table waiting for my response.
I think of the only response I can muster, “Can I sleep on it?”
“Of course, it is an important choice for you; the entire future of the Wastes now rests in your hands.” Kazimir says, “Tomorrow then.”
With that Kazimir signals to Dyami to take me back to my quarters, my quarters I mean Kazimir quarters. Nothing on this ship is mine; nothing of the Brotherhoods has anything to do with me and now Kazimir wants me to decide on the fate of every single person in Haven. This is not my choice to make, I shouldn’t be here, I’m just a Wastelander, and I fight for my survival no one else’s.