Day 3

The way Cassidy had explained it to him, the 20 Days of freedom was a scam, devised by the Circle of Six to rid the population of rebels and undesirables. Those, whom The Circle considered a viable threat, without having the bother or expense of putting them in jail. 20 days in the wasteland outside the city wall with a dry bun and a small container of water was calculated to make survival pretty much impossible.

The calculation had proven to be pretty accurate, so accurate they had two loyal followers portray a pair of convicts, sentenced separately, who were seen to make it back and granted freedom. A sop to the people to show that there was a possibility for freedom. Another scam to perpetuate the lie. He even debunked the arrow message, and the threat of surveillance as more of the same – lies.

Survival was the object, but not with any hope of reprieve from The Precinct. As for Cassidy knowing who he was, Brian had received another head aching discovery. Cassidy had been back. He had stolen into the city with the help of some friends, to visit his wife and assure her he was well. When Brian contested that part of the story, Cassidy had said that he had answered enough for the time being, and suggested bed.

There was little Brian could do.

******

Sunrise filled the cave with light that pried open his eyes and Brian woke, squinting and yawning. He glanced across the floor at the mat Cassidy had gone to bed on, finding it empty. The smell of smoke leaked into the cave, and crawling to the opening he saw his host busy cooking and making coffee.

"Daybreak, a lovely day,

the mist on the meadow

is drifting away . . ."

Cassidy laughed. "I love the sound of Kilroy in the morning. Do you have a mug or cup or something, there's coffee? I only have the one."

"I only have my water container."

"You can use that. There's a river about a quarter mile from here. Water's quite sweet." Cassidy set a plate off to one side. "Hope you like Bass."

"Sounds great. You've been up a while." He stretched mightily, bones cracking.

Brian emptied his water container and poured himself some coffee. He got comfortable with his plate of Bass and waited until Cassidy was settled too before asking more questions.

"Still a few things I don't understand, Reagan. Why are you choosing to live out here, you could have gone back obviously, or at least could hide in the city and be with your wife."

"For now, this is safer for her. If I was caught hiding in the city she would be sentenced too – and it wouldn't be with me."

"For now – you have a plan to change things?"

Cassidy lit a cigarette and slowly sipped some coffee, his eyes studying Brian. "What plans do you have from here?"

"To get back, but from what you've said, that won't be easy."

"There is no going back, Brian, at least not on the terms of the sentence." Cassidy snuffed his cigarette in the dirt.

"You know, you keep making these suggestive disclaimers, like there is more but you aren't ready to say so."

"And you're a pretty perceptive criminal." Cassidy grinned.

"So?"

"Is Kilroy a serious statement on the situation in The Precinct, or is he just a rabble-rouser? It's important to know."

"During World War II, the original catchphrase 'Kilroy was here!' captivated people's attention all across the world. Almost anyone who saw Kilroy for the first time became Kilroy. It appeared in unimaginably strange places. By concentrating solely on artistic creativity, I wanted to pique the imaginations of the people in The Precinct the same way. Hopefully get them to take part."

The match for another cigarette flared, and Cassidy inhaled deeply, but before he could speak, Brian continued, and he exhaled with a sharp cough.

"What The Circle does not know or understand, is that limitation encourages creativity. Suppression demands acknowledgement. There is part of a quote I believe sums up what drove me to 'create' Kilroy the way I did. It was from Richard Attenborough,

"The arts are not a luxury. The arts are for everyone – and failure to include everyone diminishes us all."

"Okay, Kilroy," he nodded. "I guess that answers my question."

"But still not all of mine. For instance, you never said anything about that silver place. Just what the hell is that?"

Cassidy chuckled and finished his cigarette. "You like art and entertainment, Brian, the Curtilage of Nansk is the home of a cult run by Dabny V'gage."

"What do you mean, cult, and what does that have to do with the arts?"

"The whole place is theatre. The silver sets, the frightening eyes – the only real thing was the drug in the water you drank. It made you suggestible to Dabny's wacko theatre."

"No, wait a minute, I saw—"

"You saw what he wanted you to see. That silver city is nothing more than a western front. He is clever, mind you, but it's all a fake."

"I saw bodies!"

Cassidy laughed out loud this time. "Manikins, Brian. Trust me. I was there too. After I 'escaped' I went back and found out for myself. There were a few 20 Day convicts that chose to stay with him instead of going back. They don't do too badly there. They're self-sustaining – they're just," he twirled a finger at his temple and smiled.

Brian looked away in disgust. He recalled his rampant fear when he fled, and chastised himself. When he glanced at Cassidy again, it was sheepishly.

"I suppose, as a guy promoting the arts, I must come off as a bit of a hypocrite."

"Well, you did quote, the arts are for everyone – and failure to include everyone diminishes us all."

The snort was laced with irony. "I get my hands on him, I'll diminish the bastard alright." He heard Cassidy laugh again, and after a moment, joined in.

"Okay, the more serious stuff. The visits to my wife were also visits with a group devising plans to oust The Circle." He waited for a reaction, receiving only a head tilt and raised eyebrows. "Right . . . we have numbers we know we can count on. We have the right people willing and able to assume authority. What we don't have, is enough information about their strength and their defences. The loyalists are more than a few, but the number is unknown."

"I'm hearing those disclaimers again, Reagan."

Cassidy blew out a long breath. "I'm suggesting you become our man inside."

It was Brian's turn to laugh. "Have you been drinking V'gage's water? I'm a convicted criminal! I'm not expected to survive."

"Exactly! You go back after 20 days, and suddenly you are a celebrity. The Circle can't refute you, or have you out and about among the population – particularly the rebels. They'll keep you inside."

The debate was long, and at times noisy, and it was late in the day before Brian finally succumbed.

1152 words

Total to this point - 5675