Free Hadrian's Rage by Patricia-Marie Budd Page A

is to ask you to transfer 12,000 credits into Dean’s uni account. Oh, Geoffrey, he is doing so well. I am so proud of him. He is always in his study. I have to pull him out for dinner and breaks, but uni is very demanding. He feels so overwhelmed at times. The workload and pace required of him leave him quite exhausted. There’s a reason why we do uni in our youth. It really is a lifestyle designed for the young. Just listen to me; my thoughts wander far too often these days. What was I saying? Oh, yes, 12,000 credits. He doesn’t want me to remind you of this since he’s already feeling guilty about allowing you to help pay the costs, but you did insist and, well, I agree with you. We both know I can carry the cost easily myself, but thisone gesture on your part does help maintain a connection between the two of you—”
    “Some connection.”
    “It may not be much, but it ties Dean to you, and I do believe he still loves you. Please be patient with him. We often talk about you—”
    Destiny isn’t allowed to finish because Geoffrey can listen to no more. “Delete message.” After rubbing his eyes, wiping away the tears he struggles so hard not to release, Geoffrey stands erect; he tightens his torso before releasing a deep breath. “Open credit account.” Geoffrey’s arms cross, his hands in fists, as his right hand taps his thumb against his mouth. “Transfer 12—No, make it 13—transfer 13,000 credits into Dean Hun—correction, into Dean Stuttgart’s uni account.”
    Still hiding in the hall, Roger smiles. His father still loves Dean. He worries about him and wants to make sure he doesn’t find himself short of credit. Just as Roger is about to enter the living room, he hears his father open a second message and listens to Papa Dean’s automated voice recite, “Second message from Matthew Malloy.”
    “Who?” Geoffrey looks at the wall screen, his inquiry prompting the voc messaging system to retrieve Matthew’s image. “The boy looks familiar.” Chewing now on his thumb, he ponders the image for a minute until recognition dawns. It is the young man who was Todd Middleton’s roommate at the Northeast Reeducation Camp. “Open.”
    Appearing on the wall screen is the vid image of Matthew Molloy. For such a young man—he can’t be more than twenty-one , Geoffrey thinks, — his face is so withered. Hadrian’s Lover, he looks thirty. Geoffrey sighs as he realizes this could have happened to Dean.
    Hello, Mr. Hunter. I’m not sure if you remember me. My name’s Matthew Molloy. We met at Todd Middleton’s funeral. I told you then he and I were bunkmates at re-ed. I am really sorry to call you and cause what I am sure are unpleasant memories, but this is really important. I remember your husband is also re-ed—sorry, but, well, if he is, then you might understand. They say you created most of the reforms that have helped us re-ed workers and, well, I’m hoping you might help out my friend and probably one of your most loyal detritus fishermen, Wolf Gaidosch. You may even recognize his name…
    Geoffrey didn’t.
    He started with Hunter Fisheries and transferred over to Hadrian’s Fisheries when the company went national. Anyway, he was just fired. After fifteen years, to just be let go like that. And the reason is prejudice plain and simple. Our manager has never liked Wolf. Since heterosexuality was made legal, Wolf came out as straight, and the manager has harassed him ever since. He used Wolf’s wanting to help a boat of gay refugees as an opportunity to fire him. But the real reason he fired him is because Wolf is straight. He told him right to his face, called him a “Fucking strai”; sorry, sir, but those were the manager’s words, and he said he was done putting up with Wolf’s “strai bullshit.” I hope you will look into Wolf’s case. I would never have used my slight connection with your family if I didn’t believe Wolf was a decent honest man who doesn’t deserve to be