Working Undercover For The Man

[Alex Kaine]

In some ways, working at the Radio Shack on Los Santos Boulevard was the perfect job for Alex Kaine. He liked electronics a great deal more than he liked people, and he saw maybe two customers an hour on an ordinary weekday shift, which gave him plenty of time to enjoy the hum of current in dozens of little devices as he stocked the shelves, or even to sneak in a bit of Foucault or Deleuze behind the counter when the manager wasn't looking.

In other ways, it was a marathon of agonizing, soul-searing boredom. So even with a hole burning in his pocket where his wallet should be, he couldn't say he felt too broken up about having his hours cut this week. Again.

Alex trudged up from the bus stop at the other end of Banyon Street and in through the front door of Redención House, sweating under his black polo shirt, his library copy of The Birth of Biopolitics tucked under his arm. Jennifer sat cross-legged on the couch in the family room with a big book of origami and a spiky bit of paper that was halfway to becoming a stag beetle.

"Hey, Jen."

"Oh, hi, Alex. Oh!" Jen twisted to face him over the back of the couch. "Something came for you in the mail today. I think Jitters put it on your bed."

Alex paused. Getting mail from anything but a government agency was a rare occasion for most of the House residents, let alone a package that couldn't be filed into the mail slots by the kitchen entrance. He knew exactly what was on his bed, even if it had come more quickly than he'd expected. Maybe today didn't completely suck after all.

"Oh! Thanks."

He charged up the stairs to the room he shared with Jim - well, as much as you could share a bedroom with someone who didn't need to sleep - and found a large, padded envelope with his name and the House address on the front and only a printed icon of a fish with legs where the return address should be. Alex wasted no time tearing it open. Out slid a copy of the latest issue of (r)Evolution Monthly, which he'd read cover-to-cover before the day was out, but he was more interested by what else was in the package.

Alex reached in and pulled out a T-shirt in military drab with a large screen-printed design on the front:

http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y115/stormfyre/Saladin-shirt2.gif

"Sweet."

Alex threw off the black polo of mundane capitalist oppression and put on something far more subversive.

[Jim Lewinski]

"You think that's the next Che Guevara you got there?"

Jim looked up from the expansive star chart which sprawled the length of his bed, and eyed Alex's emblazoned chest dubiously. He huffed, his head snapped left then right again as if following the fastest fly in the west, and he stabbed an impressive torque wrench at his friend.

"Your mutant revolutionary looks like an angry Wham-era George Michael! What I don't get is if he is truly as pro-evolution as you say he is then why in the name of holy moonwalkin' Mohammed is he sportin' a fah-fuckin' mullet?"

From experience, Jim knew what he was getting himself into but played it cool, watching Alex simmer from behind his dark adaptor goggles.

[Alex Kaine]

Alex gave his roommate a stiff glare from behind his own unruly curls. The good thing about his hairstyle was that it didn't look all that different after hastily pulling on a T-shirt.

"Dude. Saladin is a genius and a visionary. I don't really give a crap how he styles his hair. He's iconic."

[Jim Lewinski]

"So is Che Guevarra, except he was also a photogenic badass. Maybe that was his mutation. Ever think about that, eh?"

It was a moot question. Mutation was all he ever thought about, and Jim imagined that if faced with a hot chick with beer-flavoured nipples, Alex would sooner hump his own genetic code, or Saladin. And while his mutant pride was an endearing quality, his militant attitude left him wide open to mockery, and outrage.

"You seriously gonna go outside in that thing? I mean, you can always borrow my 'I'm a mutant - cap my ass!' sweater instead. DICKBREAD!"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex didn't even flinch at the outburst at the end of the rant. He'd come to think of them as Jim's brand of punctuation.

"Yeah, I'm gonna wear it," he said. "Hell, if those rich posers at school get away with wearing Che, or 'Buck Ofama,' or 'Jesus is my homeboy,' why not? Besides, most of the neanderthals who'd make a federal case of it are too stupid to get it, so it's really not that big a risk."

Alex turned to catch himself in the mirror and headed for the door. "Anyway. Somebody needs to educate the rest of you Mensheviks. Irony is the sincerest form of expression in our age."

[Jim Lewinski]

"Sounds like we're livin' in an age of insincerity to me. Can't you just say what you think? Oh, sh-sh- forget that! Forget what I said just now, Alex. That's-got-to-be-the-worst-idea-since-that-old-lady-swallowed-a-fly! You listenin' to me, Aristotle? Heh-hey! Hey!"

Jim suddenly scrambled over his bed, his beloved star chart rustled painfully under his feet, and halved the distance between him and his roommate, who was already one foot out the door. The tinted goggles were pushed up onto his beanie, which left Jim squinting like a newborn. He stood with a scarecrow's stiffness, leaving only his fingers to wriggle treacherously from their baggy sleaves like frightened mice.

"Where you goin'?"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex threw Jim a look of wonderment over his shoulder. "Downstairs. I'm starving."

He came galumphing down the stairs in the manner that announces to the entire house that either the upper floor is experiencing serious structural difficulties or a teenaged boy is coming downstairs. Jen looked up smiling from her significantly more beetle-ish paper creation, but her smile turned dubious at the sight of his T-shirt.

"Oh my gosh," she said. "Anna's gonna flip, Alex."

Alex shrugged. "If I'm lucky."

[Tess Abrahams]

"Anna's gonna flip about what?"

Bowl of vibrantly green salad balanced in one hand and fork in the other, Tess padded out from the kitchen, jaw working as she chewed a mouthful of garlic-and-lemon rubbed kale. A curious glance was redirected by Jen, who nodded at Alex.

Tess's fork paused midway from bowl to mouth, a spiky frond of wasabi greens dangling from it's end. Her eyes narrowed incredulously on the silkscreened image of a grimly determined, noble (and yet, kissed with humility, too) face that was spread across the teenagers chest, a billboard of support.

Her eyebrows scaled her face like champion mountaineers. "Uh. What the heck is that?"

[Jim Lewinski]

After Alex disappeared, Jim was left standing in the middle of the room, bouncing on the balls of his feet. A high-pitched hum grew in his throat, and climbed, threatening to push its way past clamped lips. Apprehensive glances were tossed this way and that, and as the sounds of Alex clattering downstairs faded, the squeaking in his throat escaped, a long nervous whimper.

"FUCKNUGGET!"

From upstairs there came a low thrum, and with a rush of air, Jim was sat on the sofa peeling open an issue of National Geographic, over which he caught Tess's gaze with enormous bug-eyes.

"C-can-you-believe-he-wants-to-go-out-wearin'-that-that-that-thing!?"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex stood before Tess with his hands in his pockets, looking entirely unconcerned. "Just something I ordered from the Friends of Genetic Freedom. Oh, what's in that salad? That looks good."

[Tess Abrahams]

"Friends of Genetic Freedom?" Tess repeated, looking over Alex's shoulder at Jim to see if this was some sort of joke that they'd connived. "Are you demented?"

The salad bowl came to rest on the arm of the nearby recliner, slid precariously close to the edge and threatened to tip over onto a pile of unfolded laundry resting on the seat.

"Seriously, I know you're in the phase of your life where you're exploring belief systems and trying to work out how everything fits within the moral parameters that you've set up thus far..." Tess continued, hands gesticulating in the air between them. "But what is this?"

[Alex Kaine]

An incredulous look came over Alex's face, something halfway between laughter and a protest. "It's a T-shirt," he said. "You know? A parody of a stupid pop culture fad by swapping in something more meaningful and provocative? I think it's pretty sweet."

Jen's eyes darted from the budding confrontation to the salad bowl sitting tilted on the edge of the recliner. "Uh, Tess, the salad--"

[Tess Abrahams]

Jen's insertion didn't even garner so much as a flicker of acknowledgment. Tess snorted and shook her head, a heavy, bitter sensation swirling around in her belly.

"That's not a T-shirt anymore than a swastika cuff is a sweatband," she retorted, voice growing just a shade harder. "Level with me: you don't actually buy into that Saladin-as-a-revolutionary-genius propaganda, do you?"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex scoffed and crossed his arms, wrinkling Saladin's proud scowl. "You don't actually buy into the Saladin-as-mindless-terrorist propaganda? He gets stuff accomplished, which is more than I can say for the supposedly 'mutant-friendly' congressmen from California."

[Tess Abrahams]

"Yeah, he gets a lot done," Tess nodded. There was no agreement in the statement.

"Alex, have you met the guy? Have you been to any of his rallies, spoken face-to-face with his people? Or is everything you know about him coming from the 'net and sponsored literature?"

[Alex Kaine]

"I've watched his rallies," Alex said with a hint of defensiveness. "As many as I could find online. Why, what's your beef with him? I thought you'd be all over a little mutant advocacy."

[Tess Abrahams]

"He's dangerous, Alex," the irony of those words escaping her mouth was not lost on the young woman. John Rhee had tried to tell her the very same thing once, for all the good it had done. At the time, she'd argued much the same position as the gregarious teen was now taking.

That was before she'd seen for herself what Hektor Vespasian was all about.

Tess shook her head, raising one palm in reassuring certainty. It was hard to keep the strain out of her voice, but she managed.

"Just trust me, okay? You don't want to go tossing your support into Saladin's arena. It's far more convoluted than any Youtube clips will show."

[Alex Kaine]

"Of course he's dangerous," Alex replied, a ghost of a smile hanging around his mouth. "Evolution is dangerous. We've got to be able to face up to that. Okay, he comes off as extreme a lot of the time, but maybe that's what people need to shake them out of their complacency."

[Tess Abrahams]

"Yeah, militant extremists tend to be real good at getting rid of complacency. The problem is what they replace it with."

An overwhelming urge to reach out and shake Alex prompted Tess to take a step back, physically increasing the distance between them as she tried to articulate the furious knot of emotion clawing it's way up her windpipe. He had no idea.

"Alex, you're a smart guy. Don't let the flames of idealistic fervor that Saladin and his people fan fool you." Like it fooled me. "They're not who they want you to think they are."

[Alex Kaine]

Alex frowned. He'd have thought Tess would care more about the issues and less about her emotional associations with... whatever was bothering her right now.

"I don't get why you're turning this into some kind of ad hominem thing," he said. "I mean, yeah, he's done some illegal stuff. Maybe he had good reason to. The mundane media never tells the whole truth. You never hear how he sprung mutants who were being held without charge, or how that convoy the Brotherhood destroyed was carrying technology designed to enslave us. How do you know he's not exactly what he says he is, Tess? What makes your opinion better than mine?"

[Tess Abrahams]

"It's not better, it's just more informed. Alex, I've been where you are and I didn't listen when people tried to tell me that it was a shaky spot to stand on," the reluctance in Tess's voice was palpable, twisting the words into tense versions of themselves as a muscle in her jaw quivered. "The cost of ignoring them was more than I ever could have anticipated - my best friend almost died because of it, for one thing."

On the couch, where she'd remained largely silent as the back and forth unfolded, Jennifer's eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?"

It was a subject she'd never counted on discussing but there didn't seem to be much of a choice. They could toss counterarguments and quotations at one another all day long but the fact remained that she had seen firsthand just how brutal Saladin's regime could be. Tess tilted her head back and sighed to the ceiling, sending curls of shame into the air.

"Senior year. I left Cullen's because I met Hektor Vespasian - sorry, Saladin," her eyes found Alex's and she offered a tight, humorless smile. "He was charming and well-spoken and completely convinced me of what he stood for."

[Alex Kaine]

Alex went from disbelieving suspicion to disbelieving awe in no time flat. "You met Saladin?" he gushed. "Man, Anna told me he was here in May, I kicked myself for taking extra hours at the Shack. That must've been awes--"

The tightness of Tess's expression suddenly registered with Alex's brain, and he remembered the context of the argument. "Okay," he said, pulling back on the reins, "what happened?"

[Tess Abrahams]

'What happened' was far too simple a concept to contain the impressive downward spiral of events that had transpired. And yet, despite the complicated elements, the one image that would never fade was that of Jacinda Blake's face in the moment that she realized one of the people she trusted most, was one of the least deserving.

It was this memory that she thought of now, the disbelief in honest blue eyes that felt like a slap. God, Jacinda.

"I signed on the dotted line, is what happened," Tess wrapped her arms around her stomach, hip coming to rest against the plush side of the recliner. "And was stupid enough to think that I was helping the cause - you know, building a better world for all mutantkind? Don't get me wrong; it wasn't all bad. Some of it was pretty fantastic: the comradeship; the energy; the... ideas. But the thing about The Brotherhood is it's all about being useful.

"I was useful in providing them with a steady stream of inside information about Cullen's. And I was useful in a few offensive counterstrike operations against various "enemies" of the mutant utopia. And I was really useful in helping abduct that best friend to manipulate as a means to Saladin's ends. That was a particularly special moment."

Tess flashed a double-thumbs up, expression unwavering. "Miami. You remember the Miami incident, don't you?"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex was beginning to lose track of the bombshells Tess was dropping - not only a card-carrying member of the Brotherhood of Mutants but an active participant in their special operations and - if he was understanding this right - a member of Saladin's inner circle. He almost forgot this story was supposed to have a sad ending.

Jen had been swept away by now, too, though she was closer to white-knuckled fear than giddy excitement. "You mean that hurricane, the one created by a mutant girl?"

It had been all over the news - a monstrous storm cell that had formed spontaneously over Miami Beach with winds and a storm surge comparable to a Category Three hurricane. At the center of it all had been one teenaged girl with wind powers gone catastrophically out of control. The details had been sketchy - reports of other mutants getting involved, arrests and inquiries, a lot of talk of expert consultants and treatment at a secure facility. It had been like something out of a bizarre Tom Clancy-Stephen King collaboration.

"Yeah, I remember that," Alex said, a little numb. "(r)Evolution said it was some kind of demonstration that went wrong."

[Tess Abrahams]

A sharp laugh cut through the room. It wasn't funny - far from it - but Tess didn't know how else to react to the sheer absurdity of that statement and so she went with it, lips spread thinly across her teeth in an awful combination of grin and snarl.

"Is that what (r)Evolution said? Bang-up publication, that is," Tess wiped invisible tears of mirth from her eyes. "Tell me, Alex, did they print the part about how that girl, whose world was falling apart around her, by the way, was supercharged by a genetic device so dangerous that you'd be lucky if it rendered you a drooling vegetable afterward? Or that she was then sedated and planted specifically on that coastline by Saladin and his lackeys because they knew exactly the kind of damage it would cause? Surely they didn't leave out the part about it being an orchestrated disaster, meant to usher in the final separation between mutants and humans?"

A heavy silence filled the room. Jen's lap was filled with colorful specks of confetti, remnants leftover from the origami massacre her nervous fingers had performed during the retelling. Even Jim was hovering at a steady hum - not slow, certainly, but holding.

"Whatever you think you know? You don't," Tess shook her head. "But you're right - it's just a T-shirt. Word to the wise, though: don't put it in the laundry when I'm doing a shift."

[Alex Kaine]

Sometimes, when you buy a new shirt and it hasn't been broken in yet, the stitching around the hems at the neck and sleeves feel stiff and itchy and hot. Alex hadn't noticed it before, but he was feeling it profoundly now. He wanted to argue - he liked to think he was still pretty good at that - but there were some things even he knew you just couldn't argue.

"Okay..." He clapped his hands together and rubbed them awkwardly, just because they had to be in motion when he was nervous. "Okay, I can, uh... I can respect that."

Dang it, he could even feel the heat of Jennifer's and Jim's collective stares on the back of his neck, unless that was just a prickle of sweat. Alex started to turn, thinking he might just throw something over the T-shirt for Tess's sake, but he aborted and found himself facing her again.

"That aside, what do you think about his idea of independent mutant governance?"

[Jim Lewinski]

From the sofa there came a loud squeak. Jennifer turned around to find Jim rocking in his seat with both hands clamped over his mouth. His wild eyes did all the talking for him while Jennifer responded, mouthing: "Oh... my... God!"

Jim nodded feverishly, and glanced up again to follow the exchange. His feelings were mixed: sure, Alex was an overzealous douche sometimes, but he was also fiercely passionate about mutant rights, plus he was his friend. And a friend's loyalty is solid, like a rock. However, Tess had just trumped him with her ace-in-the-hole story, and it was going to take something special for Alex to come back from that fighting. And fight, he did. It was admirable. But Tess is so easy on the eyes. She is admirable. No. Alex is his friend. It was for Jim to stand by his friend. But then there were the videos of Tess on YouTube, in that leotard, swinging, spinning, curling, cartwheeling, bending-

"COME ON, TESS!"

[Tess Abrahams]

At any other time Jim's electric cry would have elicited a laugh or a good-natured eyeroll, maybe a headshake and a surrender to the break in tension needed to end the conversation. But now it just made everything feel like a heated tennis match, like they were volleying for points. This wasn't about sides.

Tess shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, there is no aside from when it comes to him and his, Alex."

Before he could reply and before a perfectly good load of whites could be marred by olive oil, Tess rescued the salad bowl and held it out.

"You're welcome to this, if you want. I'm not hungry and I gotta run to the market for Anna anyway, we're running low on toilet paper. Anybody need anything?"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex took the bowl somewhat listlessly, regarding Tess with a face of stone. "No, I'm good," he said. From the couch, Jennifer simply shrugged and shook her head. When Tess left the room, she took most of the atmosphere with her.

Alex waited until the kitchen door rattled shut and left the ground floor in silence. Then he turned to face his roommate on the couch. "Come on, Tess?"

[Jim Lewinski]

"I was lost in the moment," he answered defensively.

The issue of National Georgraphic had been long abandonned, and mingled with an array of weathered magazines on the coffee table - a dazzling juxtaposition of teenage mutant interests. Instead, Jim's attention was fixed squarely upon Alex, and he held him with a fascinated, and somewhat fearful, gaze. His bouncing legs provided a ceaseless drumroll.

"I gotta tell you, that was pretty intense, buddy. Do you believe her story about Hurricane X?"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex drummed his fingers on the side of the salad bowl and shot a look toward the kitchen. "I don't know. I mean, I don't think she's lying, but... maybe she doesn't know the whole story or something."

"You mean maybe Saladin kidnapped her friend and screwed up her powers in a nice way?" Jennifer asked reproachfully.

"No, I mean..." Alex tilted back his head and started hunting the ceiling for answers. "Look, even if he did everything Tess said he did, it doesn't mean his ideas are wrong. She's just really emotional about it, I mean, who wouldn't be?"

[Jim Lewinski]

"Tess is also like an extreme case," Jim added, knowingly, "A traumatic personal experience has tainted her point of view, which is why, despite her first-hand experience with Saladin and his crew, you gotta be careful when taking into account her summary of the facts. Right?"

While Jennifer looked dubious, Alex was clearly thankful for Jim's logical interjection. It wasn't that he blindly supported his friend, in fact, as a man of science, Jim was not an advocate of any kind of violence. And nor was he unprincipled, it was just that in his experience every hot-topic debate about mutants quickly descended into the realms of personal feelings and hyperbole. Alex was a testament to this everyday, which was why he took his ongoing crusade with a pinch of salt - it was when he allowed his beliefs to endanger himself that it concerned him. And there was Saladin plastered across his chest, and if he could inspire that degree of angry passion out of a fellow mutant, what kind of response would he elicit from the fearful everyman?

"Let's put it this way, Jen," he continued, fully aware of the controversy that laced his following words, "We have deeply personal reasons to hate the Three Elevens, but do you ever stop to think about the validity of their arguments? People like them are afraid of mutants and, when you look at the Miami thing, their fear is often justified. I don't know about you, but I'd be pretty pissed if some super-powered human hurricane machine flooded my lawn, ripped the roof off my house, and tossed my fuckin' cat into the sea. Did you hear about that? Some crispy old broad launched a search and rescue operation for her beloved American Bobtail, Mister Binks or some shit, and after three days hunting through the rubble and the garbage and the shit, fuckin' thing washes up on South Pointe wrapped in seaweed like a bit of soggy sushi. Last I heard, there was a tearful memorial service in the park where Mister Binks is now buried and, all the while, this crazy broad still has the rain pissing through her roof. Talk about gettin' your priorities straight but that's fuckin' cat people for you, am I right?"