After learning that Samantha was shot dead, Ashken worried for Jessica. He had assumed that her father, once he returned to take control of the militiamen, would find and protect his daughter. When he left Jeremiah at the top of the wall, Ashken was more worried for his own well being when Jeremiah returned to the militiamen. Ashken did not know where he stood with Jeremiah, particularly after learning that Jeremiah was one of the people who had murdered his father. That Jeremiah had staged the attack in the hope of convincing the governing council of the seriousness of the danger they were in was troubling. Ashken also did not believe that Jeremiah had not meant for the attack to turn into a murder. Even if it was true, Ashken could never forgive Jeremiah for plotting an attempting murder. Ashken wondered not for the first time who else was involved with Jeremiah’s plot. But he kept silent. There would be time later to figure out what was going on in the enclave. Now he needed to keep his thoughts together to get out of the situation and to find Jessica. He was no longer sure that Jeremiah, when he returned, could protect her.

Joseph continued to clean his fingernails, seeming undisturbed by his current situation. Like most of the time Ashken studied Joseph, he seemed disinterested in his situation. He seemed to be in a different world than the rest of them. Somehow out of sync with what was going on around him.

“Will we fight our way out of here?” Ashken asked, lowering his voice to a whisper. He felt again the need to hit someone. There was a certain pleasure and release that had come with his two previous opportunities to punch someone. Letting out his anger, even if impotent and ineffectual, was better than sitting around and worrying. He studied the militiamen. There were at least twenty that stood in a semicircle around Ashken, Moses, and Joseph. The militiamen were disciplined and focused their efforts on watching them. Ashken did not see how they could even close the distance without some of the militiamen with the shooters successfully attacking them. And if they managed to get past the front line of militiamen, there were more militiamen waiting behind them. They were not as alert, but if there was a commotion, they would be alert enough to respond.

“Not yet,” Moses said. “We have to wait to see what their plans are.

They did not have to wait long. The man Ashken had punched earlier arrived a few minutes later to speak with them.

“Moses, you have always been an honorable man,” he said. “You trained many of these militiamen in the martial skills and discipline. I know you only did your master’s bidding, and for that I don’t blame you. I can only blame you for your choice in master—but I understand that that decision was made for you. There were many of us who did what we were told. This is a new time, however. We are living in a wonderful new time and a different place. No longer will the farmers and militiamen fall under the yoke of the great families. Those families are not great. It took us a while to realize that, but now that we do, we are freeing ourselves of them.

“I’m telling you this because I want you to join us. I want you to give up your allegiance to the dying Liebowitz family. They have nothing to offer you except sorrow.”

“I don’t recognize you,” Moses said to the man. “You were not with the militiamen when I trained them, and you are not of the great council. I hear your words and I want to know what you are asking of me. But first I have to know who it is I am speaking with. Who has gained the trust of the militiamen I once trained and considered comrades?”

The man did not look fazed by Moses questions. He took a step forward toward Moses and stepped in front of the front-most militiamen. The militiamen moved aside to give him space. They did not lower their shooters or batons, however. The militiamen with the swords that had followed this man took positions between the ranks of the guards. Ashken saw the man with Moses’s sword. He held the hilt tight as if to gain confidence by squeezing it in case he has to draw it.

Moses seemed to notice none of the activity behind the man. He stood with his legs spread apart slightly and his hands resting easily on his waist. A strong night wind blew down off the wall and into the corridor where they stood, and Moses’s robes waved in the wind. Joseph remained seated against the wall. He had stopped cleaning his fingernails and sat quietly watching the conversation. His face did not register any interest in what was being said. It looked like he was watching the clouds float past. Even when Joseph had chased Moses across the field toward his master, the giant’s face had never seemed interested in anything. It looked as if he was only going through the motions. What Ashken could not determine, however, was what those motions were and why he even bothered.

The man formed a steeple with his hands and brought the tops of his fingers close to his nose as if to smell them. He took a deep breath and looked deep in thought, as if considering Moses’s statement. He closed his fists and ran his knuckles along his cheeks and nodded his head, looking as if he had come to a decision about something. “I am Ariel Monsaster,” the man said. “It is not a secret that I was not born in the enclave. I am an outsider and like many of my kind, I slipped through the walls five years ago. What I found in here surprised me. From the rumors on the outside and the plans I was part of, I thought I would find a paradise. A place where your Moderns’ machines and you and your brethren in particular, Moses, protected not only the walls but provided the comforts that we once enjoyed and that the ancestors of the people here spoke about.

“I had hopes of finding the dream we had discussed, of joining in the realization of that dream. Once I was inside the walls, I was quickly disillusioned of such sentiments. What I found was not the paradise I had been promised but a chaotic world that hung onto an unrealistic past. The comforts and technologies of the Moderns were breaking down, and the society we had planned was almost gone, even within these large protected walls. I found a council that was rotten at its core, corrupt with its own sense of importance and mission. I found farmers who supported the great families and barely had enough to eat themselves. I found famine and sadness and rebellions eating away at the rotten core.

“It was never my intention to lead people, Moses. You should know this better than most. I am like you in that respect. I have always served others. I am not like your friend Joseph. I have not given up on what the world can offer or what I came here to do. I remembered our plans and I thought here was the last bastion of those plans. What I did not understand was that we held on to foolish hopes. The world was not ours to control anymore by manipulating the strings behind the scenes. There was a need for real leadership, and someone had to step in and bring about the renaissance that had been our promise.

“And you decided you were the one to grant that promise,” Moses asked. He sounded disgusted at Ariel’s speech. Ashken had never seen him so angry. Moses was not an emotional man. He seemed to keep himself in check in every situation. But for some reason, this man, Ariel Monsaster, brought forth emotions in Moses that Ashken had never seen.

“Ah, so now you recognize me,” Ariel said. “I was wondering when you would. I was there with you when we cast lots and made our plans. And look what has happened. Look at your very experiment with the great families and their terrible plans. It is for the best that I came to liberate you, Moses. There is much we will discuss and much we will plan. After the revolution, we will start over. We will cleanse the streets with the families’ blood and then we will leave them be. We are not long for this world. You have seen the rest of the Moderns’ creations slowly falling aside. Why do you think we’ve lasted as long as we have? Even Joseph, look at him, the mightiest of our warriors and he is but a shadow of himself. He no longer cares to be here, he does not care about his affect on the world, or of making it the better place we always spoke of.

Ashken was very confused by the discussion between Ariel and Moses. He did not understand their talk or what they had planned. Had Moses met Ariel previously? Was Moses, like Jeremiah, involved in the murder of his father? This was making less and less sense.

“You know I cannot do that,” Moses said. “I still believe in the great families. I still believe that Tenos will lead the Liebowitz’s to the renaissance we had planned those many years ago. You will let us pass unharmed from here. I will take Ashken and Joseph, and we will leave the enclave. Tenos will find his way to meet us or you will find him and he will not make it past the walls. Either way, an heir to the Liebowitz’s family will survive. You will do what you must here, but I will not join in your slaughter. I will not join you as your bring chaos and destruction here. I’m sure this will not be the first time you’ve done this. I cannot condone your plans or your hubris. We were not designed to lead. You have to remember what we were designed to do.”

Ariel did not say anything for many minutes. When he did speak, he had an accepting tone to his voice. “It will be as you say, Moses. Take Ashken and Joseph and go through the gate. I will finish what you never had the stomach to do in the enclave. I do not expect that Tenos will find a way to you. Take the last of the Liebowitzes and do what you think you must. We will miss you when we start a new future.”

“What you will do,” Moses said, “is destroy everything that we had built for the past ten generations. But it is too late for Washen’s Enclave. I see that now. The enclave was an island that kept the families afloat during the terrible years. It is now time to see if keeping them alive was worth the price. If they will fulfill what we had destined for them.”

“Give Moses his sword back,” Ariel said. “And, although he probably doesn’t want it, return Joseph’s weapon to him.” He did not look back to the militiamen who held their weapons. They stepped forward immediately and relinquished the weapons. The militiamen with the shooters held their weapons higher against their shoulder, ready to react if Moses took that weapon and unleashed it upon the militiamen or Ariel.

Moses accepted the weapon, and Joseph stepped forward for his pole arm. He leaned it against his shoulder and walked toward the closed gate.

“And what about Jessica,” Ashken demanded, stepping in front of Moses to speak directly to Ariel. “If we are to be banished, at least let us take her. You yourself said she was not a worry. Bring her here and let her join us.”

“He is a feisty one,” Ariel said to Moses. “And seemingly in love. How you can rest your hopes on this one, I will not understand. But I will not deny him. Fetch Jessica for this one. Let us see if she is willing to follow him outside the enclave.”

Two militiamen returned with Jessica in tow. She was dazed and her face was distraught. On her back, she still had the bag of Moderns’ machines that Ashken had carried to the wall.

“It seems this foolish boy actually values you,” Ariel said to Jessica. “Even if your own father does not. It is a shame, really. You might have made an interesting councilmember, at least compared to your sniveling father. I would take the boy’s offer to leave. There will be nothing for you in the enclave when we’re done.”

Word count: 2,146

Words remaining: 8,825 (words so far: 41,175)

Thoughts: And the story continues to make less and less sense. As Ashken thought to himself, “This was making less and less sense.” I’m okay with that. I have about four more days of writing left, and I expect there to be a very abrupt ending once I reach the Goal. I’m done with this story. I fully accept that this was a failure in the storytelling sense. I had such big plans: robots and samurais and lost religions and finding meaning in choices and growing up. But alas, none of that came about. All I ended up with was meaningless whiney characters who didn’t develop and do much. And I won’t even go into the inner turmoil or the repeated thoughts. But that’s okay, as I said. There’s always next time and the time after that and the time after that. As long as I keep putting one word in front of the next, I’ll get the hang of this.