Fantasy Justice: Incarceration
Chapter 19

Saturday, April 3rd, 2060 — Same Day

Felorius, Unholy Alliance Territory

Sara and May waved goodbye one last time to Justine. After returning the gesture, the tailor went back into her shop and shut the door behind her. The two women walked across the Queen’s Square toward its stop. As usual, inmates and the occasional NPC walked about—but this close to midnight, there was substantially less foot traffic.

“Well, this has certainly been an eventful evening,” Sara said tiredly.

“Tell me about it—I’m still reeling from my having my terrible secret exposed!” May put the back of one hand to her forehead as if she were about to swoon. “Truly, that name shall haunt me to the end of time. I’m like Rumpelstiltskin or some bullshit!”

Sara covered her mouth and giggled at the demon player’s theatrics. “Well, not to downplay the trauma you’ve been put through, but it’s our show we should talk about.”

“You mean it’s Clare we should talk about,” May said quietly.

Sara nodded. “Let’s wait until we have some privacy.”

As it so happened, once they boarded their trolley they managed to find an empty section. They both sat as the vehicle accelerated forward. “I didn’t think they’d bother to include all of our conversation that first night,” Sara began.

“If Clare had asked to see our show, that would’ve been an awkward way for her to find out you’re an anarchist. And that’s not the only way that bomb could’ve been dropped in our laps.”

“You’re right. Unique could have said something, or one of the fans who sent texts. With all our other concerns, we left our situation with Clare on the back burner for far too long.”

“But do you think telling her will go okay? I’ll grant that she’s been acting more like a human being lately. But you heard her—she was gonna defend hunters to Justine back at the bar. I haven’t seen any sign her political views have budged.”

“I guess not.” Sara sighed. “You know, it just occurred to me—I’ve never asked what your politics are.”

“I don’t really have any. I mean, I’m against the far right. And bigots, and Fantasy Justice. But other than that, I don’t give a shit. Why waste my time tilting at windmills? There’s no fixing most things. I’d rather just worry about myself and my friends.”

“Is that how you see me—tilting at windmills?” Sara tried to hide it from her voice, but she was a little hurt.

“Damn, sorry. I definitely don’t think that you’re crazy or stupid. Just that you shouldn’t stick your neck out—wouldn’t you have been better off if you’d skipped that protest?”

“Yes. But just because my life is basically over doesn’t mean I think that what I did was wrong. Some struggles are worth casualties.”

“Come on, your life’s hardly over. Just today you got in a bunch of video game practice, went to a museum, ate some decent food, met a crazy person, and did it twice.”

Sara smiled briefly. “You’re right. I didn’t mean to be so grim—watching our show just put me in a bad mood.”

“Yeah. ...Actually seeing how Death Legion wiped was horrible.”

Sara nodded sadly. It was hard to keep the images of them falling one by one out of her head. Especially Chloe, who had told Aiden to run just as she was fatally stabbed. “I was really feeling better for a while this afternoon, but remembering what happened still gets to me sometimes.”

“There’s nothing for losing someone but stubbornly pushing through. And waiting for time to numb it a little,” May said bitterly.

Sara wondered at her phrasing. “Do you mean someone in particular?”

The other woman looked away. “Nevermind.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.” She gently placed a hand on May’s arm.

“No, it’s okay.” May looked up briefly and sighed. She placed one hand over Sara’s, until they finally withdrew from each other. “We might as well focus on things we can fix. What’s our next move with Clare?”

Sara considered. “We tell her the truth first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll try to think of a way to explain my views that will be less upsetting for her.”

“I don’t know if that’ll be easy—she’s won’t wanna hear that the love of her life has radical views. She could leave the party and run off in tears!”

Sara rolled her eyes. “You’re still on that theory? If she has any interest in me, I’m sure it’s only physical.”

“What about this afternoon? She said, and I quote...” May suddenly changed to a highly stilted and mechanical tone. “‘Your voice is much nicer. I am a robot. Beeeeeep.’”

Sara shook her head, but laughed slightly. “Soap opera-style romance aside—if Clare leaves the party, maybe you and Pari can try to change her mind. Though we’d have to give her some time to cool off first.”

“If it doesn’t work out, I’m still with you all the way.”

“Thanks. Still, we’d never find someone as talented as Clare.”

“Or someone who’s as well liked by our audience apparently—I still can’t believe she got fan mail before us!”

“Don’t feel badly about it. If you look at it from the point of view of trying to provoke a reaction, sending obscene messages to the prudish one has a twisted logic to it.”

“In that case, I can’t believe she got fan mail before the nun.”

Sara gave another slight laugh. “Celibate or not, Pari does strike me as much more open-minded.”

“Yeah, she’s not at all what I expected,” May said wistfully.

“That sounded positively admiring. Just what do you think of her?” Sara asked mischievously.

“She’s kind of amazing,” May admitted. “She’s so gentle and quiet, and cute. And even if that last isn’t actually real, it’s hard not to respond to. At first I was worried she’d be too soft, but she’s really determined. She’s just vulnerable in some ways.” She gave a small chuckle. “Maybe it’s a little conceited, but I’d like to be with someone who really wanted me to protect her.”

“If you’re really that interested, you could try to change her mind about becoming a nun.”

“I couldn’t... She has her heart completely set on it—who would I be to take that away from her?”

“It’s not like you’d be asking her to give up her faith entirely. And I think she could find more happiness with you than without you.”

“Even if that’s true—”

“I’m certain it is,” Sara said reassuringly, briefly squeezing one of May’s hands.

“Thanks for saying so. But the truth is, I accidentally let slip that my interest in her is more than physical. That alone made her really uncomfortable.”

“I understand. ...If you change your mind, come to me for help. I can think of some arguments that might push her in a more moderate religious direction. You could say I’m well read on the subject—I went through sort of an ‘angry atheist’ phase as a tween.”

May laughed. “It figures—most kids that age rebel against their parents, but you went straight after God.”

Sara smiled. “Those windmills aren’t going to tilt themselves.”

The remainder of the ride home was uneventful. The pair turned in immediately after arriving in their room, but Sara had trouble falling asleep. Of all the things she had to worry about, it was talking to Clare tomorrow that bothered her the most. How do I tell her the truth?

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