The Clarington library had mahogany shelves and four floors. A circular opening adorned the centre of all three upper floors, each opening guarded by a glass fence. Gregory stood on the first floor and looked up through the holes to see the stain-glassed dome ceiling. People moved about him; robotic arms rooted in the ground sorted the books alphabetically on shelves.
The library was furnished with comfortable chairs, plastic palm trees, and cardboard superhero cut-outs. New technology mixed with the old. The new— glass tablets chained to their tables to protect against theft. And the old— desktops fashioned from lightweight metals with LED displays; a handful of noisy typewriters; and hardcover or paperback books— the type Adonis preferred to read. Adonis had said that there was something about holding the books in your hands and turning the crisp pages that made it feel magical.
Apparently, many people felt that way as manufacturers continued to print books in large amounts. The smell of freshly printed pages fluttered up his nostrils as he walked between the shelves. A little boy wearing a red cap raced across the aisle, carrying a Spiderman comic protected by a plastic covering. Gregory scooted to the side and let him safely pass. The LGBTQ section had a big sign with colourful, rainbow letters. Whoever owned the library was clearly a liberal; conservatives would never let their children see these books. While he waited for Raya, he walked along its perimeter.
No matter how many years passed, the LGBTQ+ community were a group that continued to be persecuted. It was illegal for men to have sex and get married. If caught, they would be jailed. For women, laws were a bit more laidback. If they were attractive or rich enough, after getting caught doing homosexual acts, they would be forced into marriage with a man. He walked alongside the section's perimeter, slipped inside and surveyed the circular shelves, telling himself that he was only doing a bit of research to better understand Adonis. He wasn't considering becoming gay.
He found a comic with a boy superhero wearing a pink dress and a cape. Gregory thought it unpractical to wear a dress while flying. Everyone would see the guy's underwear. Someone had vandalized the book, drawing a penis and balls over the dress in the correct place. Points for correct anatomy. But the vandal had spelled 'gay' wrong in: 'Death to all gais." Gregory took away a few points for that. It was probably a young child with a whole lot of hate bottled inside.
"Hey, did you wait long?" asked a hesitant voice behind him.
He dropped the comic as if it were a hot flame. Embarrassed, he picked it up, saying, "This—I'm not— I have a friend who swings that way, so I was researching a bit."
Raya nodded, smiling, and read the title. "' Sometimes Superman Wears A Dress'—I like it. I'm pretty sure your friend would appreciate you doing that for him. Most guys don't try to understand; they attack or bully. We should fight for them too."
"Yeah."
She wore a glittering black dress that ended at her knees and white sneakers. Her hair was put into rows of fine, black braids. He hadn't seen in her in a few days but felt that she had changed a lot during their time apart. She looked more alluring. He returned the comic to its place; she jerked a thumb behind her. "Should we find a booth or something?"
"Yeah." He led her towards the back of the room, and they sat together in a purple loveseat near a small cedar table. From there, they had a view of the open space in front of them. A boy hung upsidedown from his father's shoulders while his father held his legs. Off to the side, a girl wearing round-glasses bent to check the bookshelves, her older brother or friend standing close by, an annoyed expression on his face.
Raya took out her phone and tapped the glass. A projection of her email appeared in the air. She flicked her finger, and it scrolled down. She said, "I used an encrypted site; these emails are untraceable and deleted after a few days. I reached out to some of the people who lost their brother or sister in the last Relar game, telling them who I am and that I was planning to pick up where they left off. I told them I want to make killing and rape illegal in the games."
Gregory felt uneasy and said, "What if someone screenshotted it and sent it to a government official or Relar's admins?"
Raya nodded. "You know everything we do has risks. That's how life works. We can't hide under our beds. Anyhow, ten of those people replied, the other forty or so, ignored me. Of the ten, four said they were interested in meeting up and discussing future activities."
While Gregory admired her passion and determination. He knew there was danger in being too open and reaching out to other people. He said, "I wholeheartedly agree with what you're trying to do. But you have already put yourself on the government's radar. They are now watching you and probably me. They're going to limit what we'll be able to do in the future."
She rolled her eyes. "Anything we do will put us on the government's radar. Every soldier we pass is basically a spy for the government. All the security cameras...." She broke off her speech to point to the cameras around the room. "Those are here to protect us, but they also report everything we do to the government. Privacy doesn't exist Gregory. Even so, we have to try and fight them."
Gregory leaned back against the chair, choosing his words carefully. He said, "Let's split up. You do your thing, and I do mine. I don't do well working with groups, and having someone working behind my back, doing things without my approval will drive me nuts."
She rolled her eyes and said, "Alright, how many have you gathered?"
He shrugged.
Raya said, "My point exactly. Your brother was the socialite; you were always the antisocial freak hanging around in the background. And you want to tell me how to start my own revolution? Please... you wouldn't be able to gather a group of four people." She flipped her braids behind her shoulder. "This was a giant waste of my time; don't bother contacting me again, I don't need half-assed people."
He grabbed her hand as she was passing by.
"What?" she asked, anger darkening her face.
He said, "If you ever run into trouble and need someone to bail you out, you can call me, and I'll come to you. While I may not agree with your methods, and prefer to be alone, and although you called me a freak, I still support you."
Her expression softened, and he released her. She hesitated, wringing her lips then said, "Goodnight, Greg." She was too prideful to apologize, and like he had been a week earlier, she was acting on impulse. She had yet to settle down and think carefully, and though he had tried to warn her, she wasn't prepared to listen to good advice.
"You too," he said.
He watched her walk away. He missed Adonis more than ever. His group of friends had a gay, a French flirt, a freak with sideburns, and him, the quiet freak. Yet, he didn't mind. Though Raya was mad at his laidback, reclusive attitude, he would do things his own way, and he felt the urge to protect her. He took out his phone and told Raya's parents what she was planning. If anyone could save her now, it was her mother and father.
The risks should never outweigh the rewards. The emails she had sent showed the little regard she had for hiding her identity. She had placed herself in danger.
Her parents thanked him and promised to talk her down from the cliff. He felt satisfied and hoped they got to her before the government's spies approached her. Their country had few protests, but it wasn't because everything was good. It was because the government captured rebels before they could build an army.
He took out his phone and tried to call Adonis. For the seventh time, in two days, it went unanswered. Gregory rubbed the tension out his neck. If Adonis wouldn't come to him. He would go to Adonis.
***
Adonis lay on her bed, a bag of ice placed on a towel cooled her shins. It was near night, and Deo had summoned her for midnight, but her body ached from the morning's sessions. They had climbed a mountain, carry bags filled with weights. Hers had weighed fifty pounds. She sent him a text: 'Can't move my legs. Taking another day off.'
Deo: Is your hand better? We can do arms today.
Her hand was healed, but she wanted a break. However, she knew Deo would judge her harshly if she copped out. She said, 'Arms are fine, but ease up on the cardio tonight'.
Deo: Did you get the contract signed?
Adonis: My dad has given me some money; we are sort of reached an understanding about the whole gay issue.
Deo: That was why you wanted money?
Adonis: Not quite.
Deo: .... Are you looking for work?
She paused; her finger hovered above the keyboard. She wasn't sure she liked where this was going. Adonis: Please don't kill me, your highness.
Deo: I'm not going to kill you, dumbass. I am shooting a commercial for my newest toy on the weekend; I thought you might want to play the older brother's role.
Adonis: Alright. I'm in if you are paying.
Deo: I'll give you a hundred dollars for it. So, see you tonight?
Adonis: To be honest with you, your highness, I can't get out of bed.
Deo: .... One day off, any more and you'll have to find yourself a new trainer.
***