The wind was blowing against him now.

Kam heaved and ho-ed through the waves on his miniscule fishing boat, shoulder muscles straining against the force of the tide. The morning was misty and crisp, wind whipping cold fall air through his worn leather jacket, the early morning sun just beginning to rise along the horizon. The business was a tough one, but these sunrises were truly a marvel of the eye, splattering the sky with brilliant shades of yellow orange and purple. He felt guilty enjoying it, as it was his first time risking going out on the water illegally.

Once he got his morning spot, he began his fishing routine. It’s a draining pattern of casting, pulling, nets, more pulling, and more nets. And every day, less and less fish. No one knew the real reason for the lack of said fish, but it had never happened before, not like this. With the Gov’s new fishing allotments of spaces and times his people could go out for them (hence the illegality of his presence at the moment), the population should’ve been making a comeback, but it seemed to be dropping off steadily every day. He would never normally risk something like this, even as a particularly risk-taking person, but his family needed him. The population was still dropping, and as a result, the families of the lagoon were beginning to rely more and more heavily on canned food and imported goods. He was just pulling in his biggest net (only containing three fish) when he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

The boat was massive, nearly the size of one of those cargo-shipping barges. And it was in the lagoon, the village lagoon, casting the largest nets he’d ever seen. The wake from it rocked his canoe so hard that his only three fish managed to wriggle free from their trap and hop back into the sea. He knew it would be a losing battle to stay where he was with this monstrosity on the water, so he turned his boat around in a few fluid motions and began rowing back to the safety of the shore. Not to mention if he was spotted, he would most assuredly be arrested.

He hopped silently out of the boat onto the dock. That couldn’t possibly be legal...could it? The Gov had been protecting the town for almost four years now, making laws to protect the fishing population with restrictions on fishing times and import taxes, so that couldn’t have possibly been approved by them. Fishing boats that big have not been allowed in the lagoon ever, they would wreck the village economy, and with it, all the families depending on it. There has already been a scarcity of fish in the district as is, but that may drive them well extinct. He jostled through the narrow cobblestone streets, merchants and food carts making his walk home a difficult and frustratingly slow process.

His journey back had become a blur of confused thoughts and mental squabbling, so much so that he wasn’t even aware when he burst through his front door with such force that the metal umbrella stand next to it toppled to the ground with a sickening bang! on the stone floor, the sound rattling around the cramped living room in painful echoes. He ignored it and went around the corner into his mother’s room to find her already sitting awake in her oak rocking chair, cradling his baby sister in her arms.

“Child, why on earth are you home right now?” She exclaimed in a breathy whisper. “You need to be out on the water! And definitely not come home waking up all of your siblings-I just got Rose to sleep!” She gestured angrily to the now fussing baby in her arms.

He felt his face flush. Why he came home was important, but he valued his family more than anything, and it had been becoming increasingly hard for them to sleep on less and less full stomachs. But this had to be sorted out. “Mom, I saw a boat in the lagoon,” he said.

“Oh dear. You were out fishing and you saw a boat. How utterly terrifying,” she deadpanned. He huffed in exasperation.

“Not just any boat, Mom. It was one of the old fishing barges. The kind that casts nets bigger than this house,” he explained. Her joking expression vanished, chased away by a much more serious one.

“Does anyone else know about this?” She murmured.

“I’m not sure, I came straight home and didn’t see anyone on the water at this time of morning,” he told her, making a crap excuse as to why he should have been alone. 

She let out a breath and thought for a moment, then looked him straight in the eyes, unblinking. “Here is what you need to do. You need to go back outside and, after making yourself presentable, go straight to the Gov building. From there you must go in through the front doors and through the citizen checkpoint, then go up the two flights of stairs on your right. From there, head straight left until you hit the fancy-looking hallway, then head down it to room 217. If you are answered, ask to speak with Gov’ner Jim Lance. He will most likely be the one to answer you, as it is his office. Make sure he listens to you. Tell him what you know, and why it is wrong. Do not mention that you were out illegally. This will be the only way to fix this, they’ve protected us so far.”

“Mom, I don’t think going to the Gov straight after I disobeyed their rules would be a smart thing to-” he began but she cut him off. 

“Just go, child. Listen to your mother.” 

He opened his mouth to argue before realizing he would be fighting a losing battle. He loved his mom, but when she was determined about something, there was no stopping her. It happened to be one of the many qualities that he had inherited from her, that stubbornness. He nodded and gave his thanks, as there was nothing else she would have accepted from him.

He turned to leave, quietly this time, and creeped out of the room to his and his siblings' shared bathroom. He quickly grabbed a brush to run through his hair, threw on some less grubby-looking clothes, and left out the door again, determination consuming his mind.

On his way over to the towering building he ran through his mother’s plan in his head. He needed to keep a calm and even mind, or else all the fragments of his mission would get muddy and confused, and he couldn’t afford that. He tried recanting the plan in his head with different possible scenarios while making a b-line for his destination. 

His heart was hammering out of his chest by the time he stood in front of the enormous marble pillars. He had to calm himself, or this would never be settled, and nothing would ever come of it. 

He (attempted to) walk calmly through the heavy pine double doors, and made it efficiently through the citizen checkpoint with his ID slip. He then walked briskly over to the large staircase on his right, and proceeded to climb the abnormally elongated steps to the second floor.

So far, so good.

He then went straight left, as instructed, past numerous marble-hewn heads of old Greek mythological figures and a tidy looking reception desk with a grumpy looking receptionist seated behind it, until he found what he assumed was the “fancy hallway”. 

He tried to calm his heart rate as he slowed his pace down the wealthy-looking walkway. It was honestly amazing, with even more statues (some of them full-bodied) and several oil paintings that were clearly originals, the brush strokes visible atop the rough canvas. As he saw the gold numbers 217 emblazoned on a hearty wood door, he stopped in his tracks. Why was he so scared? This should be a simple matter, he could figure out a way to bluff why he saw the ship without giving away he was out illegally fishing. Still, the Gov was a powerful political force, and he was standing in its capital as a breaker of their laws.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. 

And he waited. For what seemed like days he waited there, going through the things he wanted to say, points he wanted to bring up. In reality it wasn’t days but mere moments, as he was reminded when he jumped back suddenly at the abrupt opening of the door. A short, fat, balding white man stood before him in a hideous lime green tux and blocky glasses. He bit down hard on his tongue trying not to think of Danny Devito. 

“Hello sir,” he began awkwardly, thrown off by the man’s appearance, “I’m looking for a Mr. Jim Lance?”

“That would be me.” He huffed. The room stank of the cigar he held in his hand, and another scent from behind him, something he couldn’t quite place beyond the thick tang of that rancid cigar. He tried not to wince. 

 “Oh wonderful, might I speak with you for a moment?” He tried hopefully. He was painfully aware of how high his voice sounded. 

“That depends on the matter of which you are needing to speak with me,” he grunted, still blocking the small crack in the door with his obtuse abdomen. Kam got the distinct feeling that whatever subject he stated he needed to be spoken with about, it would not be received well.

He tried anyway. “I came here regarding a shipping barge I saw out on the water this morning,” he began, and immediately stopped. Lance’s uninterested face had changed completely from mild irritation to deathly serious in a matter of seconds. 

Before he could stop to think he was being pulled inside the putrid room by the collar with rough and unforgiving hands. The momentum of the tug carried him inside until Lance’s fist unclenched and he was released, landing smack on an ornate rug on the ground.

“Wha-” he sputtered but was again cut off by a sharp hand across the face. He gave another desperate attempt. “Sir I haven’t done anythi-” another smack, right across the temple this time. His eyes burned with unshed tears as he cradled his hand against his cheek.

Lance’s Danny-Devito-esque frame loomed over him now. “I know what was on that water today, boy. And I also know for a fact that no one could have seen it from anywhere around the lagoon, except when on the water, we made sure of that,” his face was red and swollen now, his spit flying onto Kam’s face.

This whole situation was absolutely terrifying for him at the moment, but Kam was not someone who would take this lying down. Everything was pretty much blown for him at that point, but he was determined not to leave empty handed. He knew he could not literally fight, that would land him in even more trouble than he was already facing, and he couldn’t do that to his family. But he had to know something, he just had to.

He looked up at the looming Gov’nor, thinking of something to say. “Why? Why on earth was there an enormous barge on the water when you claim to be protecting us, the fish?” There was a pause after his words.

Lance only smiled down at him, now leaning his weight on the foot he’d placed on Kam’s abdomen. “Because that barge has been bringing us the best of the lagoon's fish for nearly four years. Did you really think that all those fish just miraculously died off on their own? We just didn’t want you savages to have them!” He cackled to himself now, leaning a painful amount of weight in Kam’s sternum in the process, rendering him almost completely immobile.

He felt angry. No, more than angry, furious. Dangerous. He had his hand clenched in a fist, ready to strike. He could fight this, he could fight his way out of this. There was no way he couldn’t kick off this fat man if he really wanted to. He was about to lurch forward and make a move when a terrifying realization hit him. His stomach dropped.

He felt his fist unclench. “If this is supposed to be so secret, why are you telling me?” He had to ask, he had to know. Part of him was hoping this was all some cruel joke, something to explain the last four years of steadily creeping into poverty and starvation, something to explain the hurt and betrayal he felt.

But as he looked up with rising terror at the metal bat now somehow clutched in Lance’s fat fist, he knew he was gravely mistaken. “Oh honey,” he said mock-lovingly, “I know you won’t tell.”

His contorted smile was the last thing Kam saw, as metal struck bone and Kam’s consciousness sank into oblivion.