You're In The Army Now

You're In The Army Now

The brilliant night opened above the waiting youths, as the stars showered blessings upon their chosen. The little star-sparks swirled and danced and drifted to their fated one, settling upon their brows. Instantly, the status sigil on their wrist was updated, their department confirmed, their name added to the Starbrite company rolls. Truth watched the first of the white-gold orbs land and felt bittersweet at the joy convulsing the chosen. He would have no fate with these little orbs. No fate with Starbrite. No happy home in Class C Apartments. He had failed. It was as obvious as gravity.

He would kill his parents before telling the sibs. They should have some good news today. Oh, there would be an awful lot of problems that would come of it, but at least as a citizen, he could get them some welfare support. Not much, but-

“Congratulations, Applicant Truth Medici, you have passed your Starbrite Aptitude Test and have been given your preliminary assignment as a Talisman Maintenance Technician C-9-L (Training Cadre). Please note that, while some benefits are available to you now, most will not become available until you have completed your National Service Duty. If you have any further questions, please first consult the handy fliers at the temple gate before asking a Starbrite Enrollment Volunteer your questions.” The voice whispered in his head. There was a warm throb from the identity sigil on his wrist. A seven pointed star burned proudly.

He. Had passed. He passed. He had passed his SAT. He, Truth Medici, was a Starbrite Man. He was. Him. Truth. Starbite. His legs gave out and he crumpled onto the ground. He was crying, shoulders shaking with relief. He was free. The siblings were free. Free. Free. Free of their monster parents. Free of the Slums. Free of the dealers and the pimps and the poison food and poison air and poison apartments. Free of having to kill for eleven wen in scrap and his shoes. Free... to be. Free to be a human being.

He couldn’t see. Too many tears. Too much bodily relief. He checked the sigil over and over again, feeling its warmth. Hugging his wrist to his chest, in case it wasn’t real, in case the sigil flew away. Wiping his eyes and making sure the little seven pointed star was still floating above the artery in his wrist. It was real. He passed. It was all worth it. Which meant that he still had a job to do tonight. Just not the one he thought he had. He wiped his tears and forced himself to his feet. Then ran like hell to the Starbrite volunteer.

“I want to legally sever my familial relationship with my parents and legally adopt my siblings.” Truth tried to get all the words out in a rush, and it came out a bit garbled.

“Sorry? Adoption? Usually I tell people how to start collecting their benefits, this might be a bit beyond me.”

“My parents are abusive addicts. I understand that Starbrite has a special legal program to help remove new employees from abusive relationships, rescue at risk dependents and get legal closure to prevent financial and reputational harm to the Company.” Truth was practically reciting the brochure, one of hundreds put out by Starbrite to explain some aspect of the company.

“I want to get my Class C housing benefit, sever all familial ties with my parents, do the same for my siblings, and then formally adopt them as their Guardian due to their status as minors. All of them are teenagers, if that helps.”

The volunteer looked at Truth helplessly, then fired a purple light ten feet above his head. “Thom? Need some Supervisor help over here!”

It only took a single page form, conjured with a wave of Thom’s hand and the aid of the System. Thom already had the pen. A Starbrite Man Is Always Ready, after all. When all the names were filled in, the form folded itself into the shape of a gull and flew off into the city. Thirty minutes later, he had the keys to a new Class C apartment in a working class neighborhood, his siblings had brand new status as Provisional Citizen (Subclass: Minor), and his parents were legally dead to him.

“Provisional Denizens? I honestly didn’t know that was a thing, legally. Subclass criminal too, which is no damn joke, let me tell you. Not to mention that the crimes involved theft, violence and fraud. Oof. Usually there would be some kind of trial, but a merit-award Starbrite Citizen wanting to rescue kids from those kinds of people? Magistrate couldn’t stamp the form fast enough.” Thom chuckled. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Any chance of the lapel pin?”

Truth coughed. “So. I got into some shit the other day. Things got kind of weird.” His siblings gave him what he could only describe as “a look.” He quickly pressed on. “As a result, I had to inform on... something, I guess? Anyway, I got civic merits for it. I am now a Citizen. And you are now Provisional Citizens. And I am now your legal guardian.” He showed them the decree. “Which means you don’t live here anymore. Pack your stuff. It’s time to go home.”

This time, Sophia really did cry. She was in good company. The last thing Truth did before leaving was nail the decree to the table with a butter knife. It felt incredibly right.

The next two weeks passed in a bit of a blur. The sibs had to be enrolled in their new school, get new uniforms, get new school books for the coming year, everything. New clothes. It was a scandal how much clothes cost, and never mind shoes. Shoes were beyond scandal, they were a crime! The reward money and the loot ran out incredibly fast, but as provisional citizens, the sibs did qualify for welfare and social support. Truth was sure that, for kids that grew up citizens, it would have been a devastating level of poverty. The siblings felt different.

The social adjustments were the hardest. Being able to walk around at night, for one thing. Not feeling suspicious eyes on you everywhere you went. Though there were some suspicious eyes, apparently the slums didn’t wash off so easily. Neither did their parents.

Truth came home one day and found Harmony sitting on the sofa in the middle of the living room. He was staring at the spot for the Scry hookup. Harmony was just sitting there and shivering.

“Harmony? What’s up?”

Harmony just shook his head. Then the words came grinding out.

“I can sit here. It’s allowed. Nobody is going to hit me for sitting here.”

It took Truth a moment to get it. There was no broken down armchair, no bottle of Beefheart. No empty paper cups that once held noodle soup. But he got it. He hugged Harmony, hard.

“I am so damn proud of you. You are going to do great looking after them.”

That was the hardest thing to shake off- the constant expectation of violence. Physical violence, emotional violence, economic violence. That was life in the slums- you lived in fear of violence, in constant anxiety, and tried to make yourself invisible or too dangerous for a predator’s next meal. If you had ambition, you tried to become a predator. Or you did whatever you had to, to get out.

Truth thought he would have made an excellent predator. Hugging Harmony, safe and warm in their wonderful new home, he was so glad he became something else. Something better. A Starbrite Man. And a Starbrite Man could provide for his family.

Two weeks to the day from the SAT, Truth had his tearful goodbyes with the siblings, and enlisted.