The Underground Part 22

"How dare you talk about my husband in the same breath as that disgusting organization," she growled.

"Grandfather was a founder of the Underground and my father a your husband a played a very big role in that," Shayla said, and her mother's face turned the color of rage itself.

"I don't believe you. If Gerald is a member, why isn't he here telling me himself, and as far as your father is concerned, I'm disgusted with you for making up lies about him. He's not here to defend himself. You may be my daughter, but you are pathetic!" the Queen said.

Shayla ran to the corner and grabbed her purse off the couch and pulled out the velvet bag. Reminder of Truth tumbled out and Nathaniel picked it up as though it was the most precious artifact, but that is not what Shayla was trying to find. She pulled out her father's letter and carefully opened it and marched over to her mother and held it squarely in front of her face, turning the letter as her mother tried to avert her gaze from the words as though it was acid in her eyes, but she finally looked. Shayla knew her mother recognized the unmistakable handwriting so she couldn't deny Shayla's declaration when she finally read the letter.

"It's the truth. Face it! Now, I need you to agree to make a video statement to release all of the prisoners and denounce the Tasers' behavior during the protests. Those men are rotting and starving because they dared to express themselves," Shayla spat, realizing she needed to be more composed, as she felt Nathaniel's hand on her shoulder. She reached back to give his hand a quick squeeze as she glared at her mother. "That's for starters. If you agree to that, we'll untie you, let you get yourself together and put on makeup. We'll film your speech right here."

"You have allowed these people to brainwash you! Your boyfriend is in on this, too?"

"That's Nathaniel DeLuca, mother. My boyfriend from the Cambridge Public Works. He's part of the Underground too," Shayla said, feeling proud.

"I knew it. I knew that there was something off. He doesn't have any Kansas City accent."

"You will do as we say," Shayla said with a deep anger lacing her words.

"What if I don't?" her mother said, the look of pain transforming to a kind of resigned glaze that wouldn't allow anything to penetrate.

"We'll kill you," Simon said evenly.

"I am the Queen and when I get out of here I'm going to kill you," she said, with a fiery vengeance.

"Mother, I am demanding you make this statement," Shayla said.

"Or you're going to kill me?" the Queen said in a mocking tone, as if it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

"I won't stand in anyone's way."

"You little... you don't have the strength... you're weak... too much of your father's blood made you a crybaby when you were young and too soft-hearted now. You won't let it happen, even if you don't like the laws I uphold," the Queen said to Shayla.

Shayla took all her energy to keep the pain from her face. She felt like her mother was inside her belly with a knife slicing everything that held her body together from the inside out.

"This isn't a joke, mother. It's time for things to change. Daddy used to try and tell you this and I've been trying to tell you too, for a long time," Shayla said calmly.

"Is this from your little boyfriend over there in the corner who has brainwashed you into allowing your mother to be murdered?" the Queen asked, trying to crane her neck to see him.

Shayla looked at Nathaniel who gave her a loving look, but said nothing.

"This is from me and all the men in this country. They are ent.i.tled to be heard and to make decisions about their own bodies. Mandatory castration is wrong. You can either make a statement to release the prisoners who speak up about it and begin the proceedings of getting rid of mandatory castration, and stay as the Queen or you will be killed. If you do stay as Queen, all your meetings and decisions will be controlled by us. You have 12 hours to decide. It's your choice. In that one way, you are still in control, but this is your final chance. That's a promise," Shayla said, feeling weak, even as her words pierced the air.

"You don't know what you're talking about," the Queen yelled as her speech turned into a curdling scream.

Simon ran over with a new piece of duct tape and placed it tightly over the Queen's mouth as she squirmed. Shayla couldn't bear to look at her mother anymore.

"You tried your best. Now you should leave," Simon said in a gentle voice to Shayla. Without looking up at him, she nodded and headed toward the door, along with Nathaniel.

As they stepped out of her suite into the hallway, one of the servants walked by.

"h.e.l.lo, Miss Shayla!" she said, smiling, like it was any other day.

"Good to see you," Shayla said, before turning the other way. As she felt Nathaniel's arm around her, helping her stand, she felt more grateful than ever to have him close.

Chapter 36.

"I don't know if I can do this," she said to Gerald before breaking down on the couch in her mother's living room. Shayla had spent countless hours on this couch witnessing her mother upholding mandatory castration laws. Now, the tables were turned. Shayla was in control and the Queen was locked up as a hostage in Shayla's childhood suite.

"Shayla, you don't have to do this," Gerald said, which he knew was only partially true. With or without Shayla, the Underground would do what it wanted from now on. With Shayla willingly on board, it was going to be a heck of a lot easier.

"I don't want my mother to die, but I don't think she's going to give in. You should've seen her. You know how she is," Shayla said through a blur of tears. Gerald saw the little girl he had helped and comforted countless times, but he also thought about his mission with the Underground.

"I want you to remember why we gave her this ultimatum. Remember what I went through," he said, his voice cracking with emotion that he tried to banish long ago. He rarely thought about those days of physical and mental anguish. Shayla looked at him and he took a deep breath, composing himself. "I can tell you what it was like, if you want," he said, unable to hold back. No matter his mission, he did care deeply for Shayla and he knew she cared for him. He didn't want to have to choose between Shayla and the Underground.

She shook her head no. "I don't need to hear the details. I know it is wrong. Between my two parents, one taught me what is right and the other what is wrong," she said, nearly in a whisper as the tears slowed. "I know the difference and that I'm doing the right thing," she said.

"You're a good person, a courageous person," he said.

"Thank you, Gerald," she said before leaning to hug him. He didn't know who was comforting whom. A knock at the door pulled them apart.

"It's probably Nathaniel. What are we going to do? I can't go home. I need to be here."

"You two can stay in here," Gerald said as he opened the door to let Nathaniel in. He rushed over to Shayla.

"Are you alright?" he asked, but she just shrugged.

"I can't sleep in my mother's bed," Shayla said to Gerald.

"Of course not. There is the small guest suite off the dining room. Why don't you two stay there? I'm going to my quarters," Gerald said, "but I'll have my phone. Call if you need to talk later tonight. Otherwise I'll see you in the morning."

"We'll be alright," she said, squeezing Nathaniel's hand and smiling at him a little.

Gerald looked at the two of them for a moment and felt a pang of envy. He wanted to love someone and have children, but the government had stolen those choices from him.

As he stepped outside and closed the door, he felt sadness. He recovered from the castration surgery 25 years earlier, but emotional recovery for Spots was close to impossible.

"I'll take that tape off, but no screaming and no funny stuff," Simon said as she rolled her eyes at him. He knew it had to hurt when he took the tape off, but she didn't complain about it, stoic that she was.

"I have to go to the bathroom badly," she said.

"Just a minute," he said before heading toward the bathroom and removing anything she might think of using against him: nail scissors or products she might try to spray into his eyes. "What are you doing?" the Queen asked impatiently.

"Making it safe for you. I left you some toilet paper, but other than that, the place is clean. Don't dilly dally. I've got a knife and guns," he said, quickly picking up his s.h.i.+rt so she could see the holster and know that he wasn't messing around. "So do your business fast," Simon said.

"Are you going to untie me so I can have a little privacy?" she asked.

"I'll untie your hands in the bathroom," he said, as he put his hands around her wrists a which felt delicate, but strong beneath his grip. She winced quietly but didn't complain.

Simon respected strong women, and had to admit that the Queen was the toughest he had seen, maybe ever. It surprised him. As he walked her into the bathroom, hands behind her back, her perfume got into his nose and he was glad she couldn't see him close his eyes as he felt himself weaken. Despite everything, he admitted to himself she was a beautiful woman, on the outside.

Chapter 37.

"I won't do it. I'd rather die. That would make me a martyr and you nothing more than a murderer," she said the next morning once Nathaniel, Shayla and Simon were all present.

"What about all those men who are dying in the dungeons all over the country? Who is murdering them?" Shayla said, tears in her voice.

"What about them?" The Queen said matter-of-factly, and Shayla knew there was no hope. Her mother would rather give her life than break a princ.i.p.al she believed in.

Shayla's lip quivered as she turned away. Nathaniel tried to offer comfort, but there was nothing to ease the fact that her mother was choosing to die. Shayla looked at Simon, but he gave no visible reaction.

The Queen's hands were tied in front of her, rather than behind as they were the previous evening. She almost looked content with her hands in her lap. Her disheveled hair hung straight and unstyled. She never went in public without her hair swept up, just as she was never seen in anything other than a sari, and it certainly would not be a torn one.

"That's that," Simon said, and the Queen looked entirely startled as he pulled a syringe from the leather pouch he had on the coffee table near the couches.

"I can't look!" Shayla said.

"Don't you want to say goodbye to your mom, Shayla," the Queen said with a load of contempt.

"Mother, please! Just make the speech!" she said, begging.

"I can't make a speech I don't believe in," she said, looking at her daughter. Shayla swore she saw a hint of a tear in her eye, but it couldn't undo all the wrongs her mother had done by not repealing mandatory castration. Beyond that, there were the imprisoned men, suffering at her mother's hands, simply because they spoke out against the Queen's laws. Shayla knew the men deserved equal rights, but she also believed that everyone had a right to speak their minds. Too many atrocities against men had been allowed.

"If you won't make the speech, then I will," Shayla said. "Goodbye Mother. You had your chance to live, but you are a selfish, evil woman who is willing to let innocent people die." She spun on her heels and marched out.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me after..." the Queen yelled just as Simon plunged the syringe into the Queen who went limp.

My fellow citizens, I inform with great sadness that my mother, our Queen for more than a quarter century, has died. It is a shock to everyone, but she has had a heart attack. Ironically, she died on the eve of an important announcement she wished to make. I am here to deliver her message. My mother, our Queen, found out just yesterday that there were many men who were captured unnecessarily, unintentionally, without the support of the government after attending a number of rallies many months ago. You may have heard of these rallies to foster male rights. In Was.h.i.+ngton D.C., Kansas City, Missouri, Atlanta, Georgia, in San Francisco, in California. Men were unfairly imprisoned. Today they will all be free. Their families will receive rest.i.tution as they regain their strength and footing in communities across America. We shall unite and move forward under my leaders.h.i.+p as I a.s.sume the throne. Change is coming, but please give me time to grieve for the loss of my mother and your Queen.

Equal Rights and Justice for all People.

Thank you. Good night and G.o.d Bless.

"And, cut!" the director said just hours after Shayla left her mother, slumped over in the bubble-gum pink chair of her childhood suite that had always been a haven. Shayla knew she would never set foot in there again.

"It's going to air in ten minutes. Let's go watch it," she said to Nathaniel and Gerald.

"I had the green suite setup for the two of you, figuring that you wouldn't want to stay in your mother's suite or, obviously, yours," Gerald said.

"Thanks, Gerald. I appreciate it. You want to come with us?" Shayla asked him, looking exhausted.

"No, that's alright. You two need some time," Gerald said, looking at both of them. "I have some things that need tending, but let's connect at dinner? I'll bring it to the green suite myself," Gerald said.

"What about... are there arrangements...? Must there be a viewing for the public? She always said she wanted to be cremated and I want to respect that," Shayla said, nearly breaking down.

"We'll talk about that at dinner. Right now, get some rest. It's been a long couple of days. I've already called Lorraine, and she knows you're not coming back. If there is anything else you need before dinner, don't hesitate to call," Gerald said before hugging Shayla.

Nathaniel felt uneasy about how fast everything happened. One minute he's in the Underground with a new ident.i.ty, and now he's stowed away in the Palace with Shayla at the country's helm. He felt like such an outsider as he stood by, but when Shayla began to walk out of the room, he followed. After all, he certainly had no idea where the "green suite" was. The Palace was huge.

He tried to keep up with Shayla who walked very fast on this day. It was as if she were trying to get away from him. For the first time, he hesitated before taking her hand and decided against it. They walked quietly as they twisted through the Palace hallways. Days earlier, he and Shayla strolled through these very hallways for the first time. Their hands were intertwined and Shayla stopped often telling stories of her childhood, and pointing out her favorite paintings.

"Here," she said finally, stopping in front of a door. She punched in a code that triggered the clicking of a door unlocking. Nathaniel followed her inside. It was beautifully decorated in various shades of green, from emerald to sea foam, with doors off the main room presumably to a bedroom and bath.

"Are you okay?" Nathaniel asked feeling nervous in her presence in a way he had not experienced since that first day they met.

"No, I'm not okay," she said, breaking down. "I just ordered my own mother killed."

"It's not your fault," he said, reaching to comfort her, but she flinched.

"It has to be somebody's fault. She didn't die of old age or even disease or a car accident or anything other than a decision I made, along with you and everyone else in that room."

"I can't imagine what you feel like, but I'm sorry, truly sorry. I love you," he said, but she didn't turn to him like she usually did. She didn't move closer. She sat on the couch with her head between her knees and cried.

"I'm not hungry," Shayla said to Gerald a few hours later as he wheeled a cart into the suite.

"Eat something. At least some bread. You need your strength. We all need our strength, together," Gerald said looking at Shayla and Nathaniel, both seated across from him. He held the basket out to her and she pulled apart the flower of white linen that was closed around the bread to keep it fresh. She pulled out a roll and took a rabbit-sized nibble.

"Thank you," she said to Gerald. "I thank you both."

"You're very welcome, but we, along with all the other men in the country, are the ones who will always thank you for your courage," Gerald said.

"I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I wonder," she said, setting the roll down on her plate.

"Eight hundred and seventy two men were released from the dungeons of prisons all across the country today. You saved eight hundred and seventy two lives today alone! You will save many more as you go on."

"I never wanted this responsibility. What if I can't do it? My mother might be right. I'm not tough like she was. I couldn't make the decisions she made. What if there are riots?" Shayla said.