With the cold air drifting eerily, Frank stood rigidly with Elisabeth beside him. His mind drifted somewhere else that day when the close caskets passed them. He could still hear their echoes in another lifetime interwoven between their free time and engaging with swarming of enemies as their physical bodies were strapped in their crches.
He could feel their gentle voices speaking to him now, cajoling his style of mentoring young cadets with stern but fair. There were other youth commanders who loved to tease the younglings until they cried their hearts out. There were also those who went beyond their mandate mentoring them, for instance, aiming a laser gun to their head should they hesitate to shoot a live target which stood in front of them.
There were times when the Innocents were quietly rounded up for petty crimes by the Night Guards. There would be a trial conducted, of course, presided by a judge whose interest only laid with the next meal course dining among the socialites, busily tending to his or her interest building their own nest egg. Nothing wrong with that, of course, except the Innocents was almost always sentenced to prison immediately. Appeals were made by the defendants but there was no sense of delaying of the outcome.
The prison guards were on a roll when the new victims came emerging into their cells. Those who were weak or drug-dependant would be caroled into a corner and quietly dispatched to the academys facility for the cadets to practice their targets.
The cadets were constantly told the Innocents were traitors to the Kapitoll. Frank recalled his first shot, an elderly woman in her 80s, covering her bald head with a thin scarf while clutching onto her torn clothes.
She was old, weak, hungry shivering in the midst of the autumn chill. Her eyes, young Frank could see, were grey due to the starvation on the streets. One of her breasts hung loosely as she attempted to cover it with a small piece of apron, or what used to be an apron, he thought.
There was a slight whimper from the old woman. She did not have a name, only a number pinned onto her shoulder. It was number 55.
Frank hesitated including ten cadets of his age. He was only five years old.
Dont even think about it. Just do it, was the instructors directive, whispering in his ear.
There were no more whimpers after that first shot, only slumps of dead Innocents who were lined up earlier now lying on the dried leaves.
The cadets hearts pounded with their fingers perspiration on their fingertips.
Now pick them up and put them into those trucks there.
What Frank asked, puzzled.
A cadet who was known for relishing this part of the exercise merely nudged him, lugging the corpses with their small hands with their weapons slinging behind.
There were no reasons given as they swayed the bodies onto the military truck which took hours for the cadets.
Frank recalled everyone who participated that day being given a brand new cutting edge switchblade as a gift by their instructor.
As another casket passed along the ceremony, he felt for the switchblade quietly tucked into his side jacket. He never used it for some reason but it served as a memory which strengthened his resolve to not allow others face the same fate as he did.
Elisabeth, sensing his melancholy, held onto his hand. He returned it by clutching for awhile then let her fingers go.
They continued gazing on with their eyes fixed ahead.
There were 50 World Council Federation leaders convening in the Great Hall at 10am on Thursday. Some could be seen in their grey long coats with their assistants carrying bundles of folders to present their motion to the Senate.
Senator Marie Aurelia Constantine was one of them in her usual high neck long red dress with a small keypad in her palm. She had never hired an aid during the two-term which she served. There was too much at risk with confidential papers being leaked to the wrong hands.
On her chest was a necklace similar to the one which Alexis wore with a picture of her mother on it. In fact, at a closer inspection, one would have thought it was the same necklace after all.
Marie fiddled with the pendant feeling the cold steel covering the image behind a shielded glass.
Justice will be served, she thought silently as her gaze focused on her niece Alexis casket while Frank watched on in his revere manner.
Neither knew of Maries existence which would serve the remaining twin better.
At the end of the parade, she returned to her home on the edge of the metropolis. Heaving a sigh of relief, she looked at the stack of files which was left on her table. There were pictures of Marchellas remains cut into pieces and another of her beautiful face disfigured with bullet shots.
Marie vowed to find the killer of her eldest sister. Murder and blood seemed to run strong in their side of the family especially with conspiracies still running amok among the veteran politicians that the president had ordered the execution herself.
There was no proof of the allegations, of course. But, there were a hundred possibilities behind the murder.
For now, Frank and Alexis won the battle to win over the last bastion on their side making the supersoldiers even more dangerous as their maturity rate, as to define to their free will, would be at 16 years old but with a mind and soul ten times more of their actual age.
This was certainly not the end for the twins but a beginning of their generation.
- End -
