2206 : Window Onto A New World
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IX. Careful With That Axe, Eugene
on the promises of riches untold ! » he exclaimed in a cynical manner. « I guess things didn't turn out as planned » daringly yet sedately remarked the chief of the Conservatives following another brief pause, attempting to appear as unfazed as he possibly could, sensing that the imposing thief might be quite a few cards short of a full deck, { maybe if I can make him talk, somebody will pass by and he'll run } he thought as he quickly scanned the location. « Didn't turn out as planned ? » repeated the robber in an aggressive tone, « you really want to know what happened ? I'll tell you what happened ! » he declared, eager to share his tale, « we used to have our farm » he gravely began his account, « we were living in peace, happy, minding our own business, and then – » the attacker stopped, looking down pensively, before grabbing the weapon with both hands, « then those corrupted bastards from the Federation changed everything ! » he resumed, enraged, « thanks to them and their so-called expertise of the Ovelian ecology, the weather is so messed up that nothing grows on our lands anymore ! » he passionately explained, « my parents had to witness their life dream wither and die before their very eyes » the delinquent related, obviously regretful, « and when they asked for help, the banks all said no way, because our desert lands, they ain't worth a damn now ! » he raved on as he brandished the sharp tool, « and because, you know, when the going gets tough, the Conservatives and their little friends the bankers only save one another's butts while we end up paying for their monumental failure ! » he shouted in an emotional voice. « And how did you end up in Triton Aeolus, ahem... what's your name ? » considerately queried the Chancellor, carrying on the delaying strategy, trying not to give way to fear, and despite the stressful situation, feeling deeply grateful for the fact that his assailant had manifestly not the faintest idea who he was talking to. « My name is Eugene » readily responded the brigand, his expression changing from fury to melancholy, « my father hanged himself in the barn » he revealed after a moment, « so my mother and I moved here hoping to find a job and a place to stay » he mentioned as he relaxed and rested the head of his chopper on the sidewalk, « but we haven't found any » the bandit pointed out wistfully, « there's way too many people, I never really knew what overpopulation meant until we got here » he stated in astonishment, « well, my mother was lucky enough to find a place in a shelter for the elderly homeless after a few weeks of sleeping rough » he noted, smiling for an instant, « and I... I do what I have to » he lastly confessed, sternly, yet visibly ashamed of himself. « But where do you sleep ? » wondered Ramsay, somewhat relieved by the middle-aged man's embarrassment, and once more glancing discreetly at the surroundings, hoping to see someone who would help him out. « Wherever I can ! » answered the vagrant, chuckling disturbingly, « outside, most of the time... I spend most of my life outside, you know ? » he continued as frustration slowly reclaimed the place that grief had temporarily taken, « even when it rains like today... and I'm lucky I have these good boots » he immediately emphasized, grinning as he stared at
The Threshold
99
Christopher Stewart