Highhanded :: Nine

Highhanded :: Nine

Doctor Dyr sat in Ace's basement, the only light coming from her laptop monitor and the basement windows. She made a note to cover the windows with something on a small blanket of post-it notes alongside the laptop. With a few clicks, she opened up her instant messenger and began talking to her colleagues. After taking notes as they sent her text or spoke to her on their microphones, she logged off and looked at the information she typed down.

She took off hear headset and read aloud to herself, "Channel Four news station uses their default passwords for their wireless microphone feeds. Mister Dyr will be giving his anthropologist opinion on the Vigilante and Arsonist at three in the afternoon today. News Anchor Rayan Lawley has been cheating on his wife with his producer... who is also a man."

Doctor Dyr began laughing maniacally, "It's a wonder I got to my colleagues before they posted this information publicly." She looked at the clock on her computer, it was 12:48. She put on her headset back on and began preparing...


---


Coen pulled himself onto the bus and slid into a couple of empty seats. Immediately after him came a shaggy woman and her toddlers. They stopped and stared at him. Across the isle was a man heavily bundled in mismatching clothes, asleep and drooling. He got up, ensuring his visible displeasure, and found himself a place to stand by the back door.

The bus stopped in front of the topside access stairs, he shoved his shoulder through the handicap doors and stumbled onto the walkway. He shoved his hands in his pockets and thumbed through his key cards. He made his way to the elevator, and after reading "Out of Order", followed the sluggish stampede up the stairs.

A fire was harbored in a trash can. Children were playing with a ball of melted plastic. Coen took his eyes off his surroundings and kept his sight on the doorway of his house. He pulled out his card key and slid it into the door's slot. The door shut behind him and automatically locked.

He was welcomed by the sight of his living room. Coen picked up the remote off the living
room floor and turned on the computer program for television. Commercials echoed through the small place as he drifted into the kitchen. He tore a box of toaster pastries out of the fridge and walked back to the living room. He collapsed on the couch and subconsciously ate away at the pastries as he flipped through the channels. Coen stopped on channel four. He saw a trio newscasters behind a desk. Their voices were the only sound in the house other than the occasional crackle of the pastry bag and the soft smacking of Coen's jowls.

"... I understand that you, yourself are Pro-Vitality."

"Indeed I am."

"But you are also against the Overpopulation Prevention Act?"

"Of course."

"Explain."

"I'm against both the murder of children and the homeless."

The second anchorman spoke up, "You realize that in this day and age, those ideals can only
lead to the collapse of our country."

"Not at all, Rayan. Anyone has an opportunity to do great good."

"Sure, they have the opportunities to do so. I'm just saying nobody has the initiative. A competitive job market is intimidating to most, and they just give up."

"Speaking of initiative, we welcome a man with plenty of that. Doctor Dyr is joining us to give us his take on the Vigilante and Arsonist." The other anchorman got up to shake the hands of the man in a lab coat. His colleagues followed suit.

They all sat down, and the anchorwoman leaned forward to make eye contact with the doctor from across the desk, "It's good to meet you here, doctor."

Mister Dyr had a large smile on his face, "I'm glad to be out and about. I've been very busy lately. It's stifling sitting in a lab all the time."

"It's stifling sitting in this news room all the time, too." The four laughed, and Coen lifted his
middle finger at the screen.

Rayan put his hand to his ear, "Hold on a moment." After a moment, he put it down. He
laughed nervously, "Sorry about that, just some issues with the microphones."

The other anchorman spoke directly to Mister Dyr, "What do you think of the Arsonist and Vigilante?"

"They're both simply products of a city in turmoil. I have not seen anyone dressing up and wreaking havoc upon any of the other cities. This event is exclusive to 86045."

Rayan piped up, "So you mean this city is worse than the others?"

"Not necessarily. I'm sure the authorities here are working very hard to keep things under control."

The anchorwoman spoke, "This is the mid-west we're referring to, doctor." The four had another laugh, but Rayan stopped short.

Rayan's speech was forced, "Doctor, are you merely saying these things to keep the morale of the citizens at an all time high? I don't believe your methods are working."

"What makes you say that?"

"This cannot be the only city with rioting citizens."

"Every city has its issues. The occasional riot is bound to occur."

Rayan appeared to be under a lot of strain, "08103 and it's surrounding cities have been renowned for their crime. However, no riots have ever occurred there in response to the Overpopulation Prevention Act."

"That isn't the issue, we're only discussing this city and the Vigilante and Arsonist it is home to."

Rayan's face began to glisten with sweat, "But there are also more places around the globe with high crime rates. Still no riots, or vigilantes."

The other anchorman spoke up, "What are you trying to say, Rayan?"

Rayan paused for a moment, "The Vigilante only began to act just after the Homeless Peoples Protection Act was released. However, the Act does not pardon any violent action. Something is very wrong here. The Vigilante is being protected, and the Arsonist retaliated to his violent behavior."

"They don't know a damn thing." Coen muttered as Mister Dyr was composing himself in a closeup shot.

"That isn't a question." Mister Dyr said.

"I'm sorry Brian, for being a terrible anchorman. I won't give any further comments. How about you guys?"

"What did you call me?"

"Mister Dyr."

"No, what did you call me just now?"

"Doctor Dyr?"

The other anchorman spoke softly, "It's all right, Doctor. It was probably caused by an issue with the microphones, like he said."

Mister Dyr got up, "I shall speak to the public when its reporters feel like being serious. I shall not give another word about the Vigilante and this Arsonist. Good day." He exited the studio swiftly.

"And now, Jamie at a Pro-Quality protest," Rayan said whilst adjusting his tie to a degree too high for any inhalation to occur.

The view was cut to a reporter screaming over the crowds.

"Jamie Wilkard here live at the scene of a Pro-Quality protest! I'm here at the lower east side of 86045, our educational district, and this stretches from 93rd all the way down to 123rd street. This is massive! Schools have been closed due to all of the congestion. It's a mess here, and it's too hard to hear what they are saying! Here's a young man who's been here since five in the morning, what's your name?"

"Harold Kutin."

"Alright Harold, what's all this about?"

"We have to keep homeless children out of our public schools. They are a hazard to the public health! I don't want my children to be in contact with those unhygienic brats!"

"Wow, thank you Harold! We'll bring you more news on this as it arrives! Back to you-"

Coen turned off the computer and brushed the crumbs off of his lap and balled up the wrapper. He threw the wrapper at the trash listlessly and missed. He dragged himself down to the kitchen to throw the wrapper in the trash. Coen decided to check out the rally a little more, so he picked up the phone and started punching in the numbers. "Eddie probably has a good look at what's going on." He pressed the phone to his ear, and waited.


----


Eddie's phone rang. He looked at the caller ID, and put the phone to his ear. "Hey, Coen. What's up? You never call!"

"I was just wondering how you were. If you were at the Pro-Quality protest."

"Yeah, I'm volunteering as security. They're a good group, no violence at all."

Coen sighed away from the receiver and put it back near his mouth, "Still haven't found a job?"

"Too monotonous. I like volunteering like this, feels like I'm doing more for the community."

"Half the time you aren't getting paid, Eddie. Sometimes I worry about you."

"Holy shit, what have you done with the real Coen? The Coen I know is a callous, silent man."

"That's heartwarming, Eddie. You just make me want to give you that warmth and set you on
fire."

Eddie laughed, "I've gotta go, you take care of yourself."

"You too."

Eddie hung up the phone and pocketed it. He looked at the crowd in front of him. Each face was unique, but the whole mass of faces made them all a blur. He looked to his sides, the guards that volunteered talking on their cell phones or to each other. Only the trained ones stood with a rigid body and a determined face. He saw the schools that were now empty because of the protests. Eddie felt like he needed a cigarette.