Lunarisation II - Part II

15th March

Diana, Artemis, Freehold territory

Myself and Kyle split as soon as we arrived on the moon. He told me that I would be meeting with another one of father's allies, Jazz Connolly.

Jazz owns a number of establishments and businesses on the moon, largely with a focus on entertainment. Media, music, television, bars, and brothels. They're all Jazz's domain. He told me that some people consider him the sixth tiger (tigers being the dominant transnationals on the moon), but that just sounds like he overestimates his importance to me. A tiger wouldn't be at the beck and call of Frank Scuderi, and wouldn't be spending his day looking after a teenager.

Jazz takes me to one of his establishments. A bar that appears to run twenty-four hours a day. I'm not sure how that works since they surely can't get enough customers in the morning, yet there's plenty of people inside when we arrive. There's probably something I don't know about how things work here that would explain it.

After he gets me something to eat, Jazz leaves me to go attend to some other business. Some of the bar's other customers glance over at me every now and then, which bothers me at first, but then I realise I should've expected this. Considering you usually have to be legally an adult to be permitted to travel to the moon, I might just be the only teenager on the moon. The fact that I'm wearing a school uniform probably adds to the oddity of it. So, it isn't surprising that people might look at me a little strangely.

At the moment there's a band, or rather a group with a backup band, playing on stage. I try listening to the music, but I find it incomprehensible. At first it sounds like rock or metal, but then I hear elements of jazz, and the beat seems reminiscent of pop music from ten or twenty years ago. The vocalists are singing in at least three different languages. It's all over the place, and I just don't get it. A lot of the other patrons seem to be enjoying listening to it, however, so there must be something to it.

"Do you like the music?"

I turn my head towards the voice, to see that Jazz has returned holding a drink in each hand.

"I can't follow it at all," I say, as he slides one of the drinks over towards me, "what is it?"

"It's called lunar pop. That group's called Candy Bullet. Their employed by a record company of mine."

"No, I meant the drink."

"Oh... that's Bepsi Max. I didn't think I should give you alcohol. Your dad probably wouldn't like that."

I take the glass and bring it to my lips. It tastes flat. Jazz sits down across from me, with his own drink in hand. He seems extremely relaxed, almost too relaxed given the circumstances. If he's working with my father, surely this is an extremely crucial time, isn't it? Shouldn't he be under an immense amount of pressure right now?

"What exactly do you do for my father?"

"I use my influence to help him. Things that he can't do himself for one reason for another. I organise meetings, manipulate the media, and help take care of other troublesome matters."

By troublesome matters, I wonder if he means me. The words seem to have sinister connotations, so I hope that's not the case. That wasn't the question I really wanted to ask though. I'm not sure how to phrase it: what I really want to ask him.

"What is it... why is... why do you work for my father?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure. I guess... what makes him worth following? Why do you support him?"

Jazz slides back into his seat, his head falling almost to the level of the table. It's almost like he's fallen asleep for a moment. Just as I'm starting to think he didn't understand, he opens his mouth to speak.

"I don't know if you know this, but your father and your mother lived for something they called their dream. What that dream is, as far as I know, no one but your father knows. But even so, I want to see it. Even if I don't know what it is, I want to know. If I had to say why, I don't know if I could really explain it. But I think it's more because of Frank himself than what he stands for. Maybe it was just instinctive, but I could tell that working with him was a good idea. Working with Frank has gained me a lot. I wouldn't be this successful, this powerful, if it weren't for him. I could probably cut ties with him now if I wanted, but for some reason I want to stay. I can't explain why, but I want to see this dream."

I'm not sure what to say to that. Jazz just gave me a huge amount of information, and I'm not sure what to do with it all. My father's dream that he shared with my mother... that's what he has done all of this for? For something so vague and idealistic as a dream? And just what is his dream? What is it my father wants?

"Do you think his dream is to create this nation... this Freehold?"

"No, I don't think that's right. I'm sure that this is a part of it, but I don't think that's the entirety of it. He often talks about creating something new on the moon. A new society, a new culture, to pave the way forward for humanity into the stars. Whether that's his dream, or whether it's something even grander than that, I don't know. All I know is that his ambition, his hunger, is boundless."

"What could it be though? How much more ambitious can you get than ruling over the moon?"

"Beats me. But I'm sure, whatever it is, that he's willing to sacrifice just about anything to achieve his dream. He's already given up so much just to get this far. He gave up the life he might've had with you and your mother. I'm sure Kyle told you about yesterday's assassination attempt as well."

Kyle did tell me about the assassination attempt. How my father had almost been killed, and only got away by using his own arm to block the assassin's blade. To be honest, it had scared me a little. You hear stories about the moon. A lawless place where you can end up dead, just for ticking off the wrong person. It made me think that if people found out that I was Frank Scuderi's son, something similar might happen to me, even after I return to Earth. But this dream of father's... whatever it is, that's what scares me most of all.

"Something like that... if his dream is as great as you think it is, then lots of people will die to achieve it, won't they?"

"Probably."

Jazz says that as if it's a given. But that's just wrong. It's crazy. Surely there must be a better way of doing things than that.

"That's wrong. If that's what you and father think, then that's just wrong. There's always another way."

"It's naive to think there's always another way. Sometimes there's only one way to get the right result. Especially in today's world, so set in its' ways as it is."

"No, there's always another way. It might be harder, it might be painful, but there's always another way."

Jazz looks a little perplexed after I say that. He blinks twice, then starts laughing hard.

"What is it?"

"Sorry. It's just... I take back what I said before. You're nothing like your father. Nothing at all."

"Of course not. He might as well be a stranger to me. There's no way we'd be anything alike."

"Well I suppose that's true," Jazz replies, "but when I said that earlier, I was meaning something else entirely."

"Something else?"

"How your father struggles with being human."