Suzaku stood quietly as the crowd surged around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the shadows shifting behind him, and he dutifully tried his best to ignore them. At least the civilians weren’t excited by the scene. Though the city’s response team was usually good with their reaction time, recently there had been a few incidents here and there in which there had been some amount of protest against the government’s burden of responsibility over what human error they hadn’t yet been able to weed out of the system. Not that he knew much about it; his knowledge amounted to what rumors were passed around the locker room at the end of the day, and even then, because he had only recently been assigned to this precinct, he hadn’t yet had the time to hammer out any bonds that would serve as reliable sources of intelligence. The actual details – the descriptive details, the statistical details – he left to his superiors. It wasn’t his job to pour over that kind of thing. He was a simple foot solider, and more than happy to remain as such.
“Dispatch to Hotel Lima 84.”
Reaching for his belt, he pressed the button of his communicator and quietly said, “Go for Hotel Lima 84.”
“Please be on lookout for a Charlie at your 11 o’clock. Middle-aged woman, thick frame, black hair with brown eyes, olive skin; approximately 64 inches in height.”
“Copy that. Charlie at 11 o’clock.”
Shifting his weight, Suzaku dedicated most of his attention to his 11 o’clock as he had been instructed to. Though there were no laws saying that a Charlie wasn’t allowed into the Bravo Zones, most remained in the shadows of their home and bred, ate, slept, lived, and died in the company of those like themselves. It was just easier and more comfortable that way. As all had learned in the past, it was far better – far easier – to accept what had been given to them. Requisitions took care of them and Vocations kept them occupied with a happy sense of fulfillment. Everyone was a cog in the grand machine of humanity, and thus all had equal value. Should one fail to function as had been directed, each and every one of their brethren would be denied what was rightfully theirs. And how could one dare to be the cause of collapse for the fragile ecosystem that housed society?
All the same, Alpha, Charlie, or Bravo’s across the board weren’t allowed to disrupt the process of justice. The incident in question had been a particularly gruesome one in which a young man from the B-Zone had been crossing the street and thus set himself on a collision course with a car from what was clearly the Estates Tower. The gleaming ornament sitting atop the hood of the sleek car had been a graceful lotus
Accordingly, the passenger of the car had been immediately returned to their safe haven, as well as the driver of the vehicle who had incidentally been the august’s attendant. It had been the Bravo’s fault anyway. He’d been crossing the street at the improper time. No, no, there was no need to check the records. There had been countless witnesses. Besides, how could a Alpha do wrong? Throughout the history of humanity, there had been not one Alpha who had committed any wrongdoing, minor or major, moral or legal; no, there was no need to check. First day on the job, huh? Well, don’t worry, kid. There’s a lot to learn, but it’s pretty easy once you start to get the hang of it. All we’re here to do is to scrape up the splatter and ship it off to Justitia. They’ll handle it from there.
Suzaku saw her the moment she rounded the corner. Her face gleaming with tears in the afternoon light, she rushed towards him. She didn’t even seem to notice the entourage posted around the scene because she showed no sign of changing direction or slowing like most others did. Shifting his weight, he prepared himself for the oncoming assault. Bracing himself, he balanced himself on the balls of his feet as he unclipped his baton.
But even with her nearing, he stood still, his weapon still encased. Though the people were calm now, the moment he took out his weapon and showed it in all its electric glory, chaos would erupt. He would have to wait until she was within range and then subdue her quietly and quickly before anyone noticed.
But he never got the chance because Papa Tango 79 and Brave Golf 82 got ahold of her first. He watched from behind the impenetrable mask as their glittering batons sunk into her soft curves and forced her to crumple at their feet. A gloved hand immediately clamped around her mouth to muffle her screams, and soon, she was subdued until she was nothing more than a limp, wrinkled bag of skin and bones.
Throwing her over a shoulder, they carried her away into the shadowy depths of the very site she had wanted so desperately to penetrate. Throwing her into the train car alongside what one could only guess was the remains of her elevated son, they slammed the doors shut.
Suzaku returned to staring straight ahead of himself through the dark mask of the disciplinary committee. That train was headed to the High Court of Justitia on the special Hermes line, which was reserved for any and all government-sanctioned transport. No doubt they would take care of the woman there; pacify her and neutralize whatever had made her so excitable and deranged. Justitia would take care of her there, prescribe her some solution for peace and then send her on her merry way to whoever could best help her. They had done that for him way back when, and the service had been very good. They had taken excellent care of him. Just look at him now! He was one the most decorated officers of his class!
Justitia would care for her. She always did. There was no doubt about that. And so Suzaku continued to stare straight ahead of him, just like all those who surged around him.