You're gonna have a lump or two," said Tim. He hesitated. "Kyle, can you hear me? Are you okay?"
"He'd never hit you, would he?" Kyle asked, in a voice on the verge of crying.
Tim's face hardened. "He's, uh, sick, Kyle. It's not you. And it's not me, either."
"He thinks you're perfect because your mother was good. And he hates me 'cause my mom is no good."
"Aw, Kyle." Tim looked flustered. He seemed like a grownup sometimes nowadays, but Kyle knew he really wasn't one. "Look. You want to go horseback riding with me tomorrow?"
Kyle nodded.
"You like horses, don't you? Like I do? When I grow up, I'm going to be a horse vet, a doctor, so I can be around them all the time."
"I want to be with you," said Kyle.
"Okay," Tim said gently. "But, look. I've got this poker game planned for tomorrow, too. So if you come, you have to keep this a secret. Okay?"
"Okay." In that moment, Kyle would have done anything for his older brother, even something far more difficult than just keeping a little secret.
"Are you going to be okay? Maybe I should wake up one of the servants to call a doctor far you."
"I'm okay," Kyle said meekly. "But what if he comes back?"
Tim paused. "You're coming to my room for the night. Tomorrow I'll move you in for good."
Kyle looked up, suddenly hopeful. "He wouldn't do that to you, would he?" he asked again.
"I'll never let him do that again, Kyle," Thu growled through his teeth. "Not if I can help it."
Suddenly Kyle threw his arms around his brother's neck. Finally feeling safe, he began to cry at last.
SONS OF HAWAII
WILLIAM F. WU
At age twenty-four, Kyle Eng sat stiffly in his chair in the courtroom, watching the judge. He could hardly believe that Tim was in this mess, not to mention his own mild-mannered self. Kyle, after a sterling performance at the University of Hawaii to earn a B.A. in political science and then an M.A. in public policy and urban planning, had embarked on a fast-moving career as a liaison between developers and local government. Now he and Tim were on trial here in Hilo for fomenting armed rebellion. It made no sense.
"Case 972-675," droned the uniformed bailiff. Like Kyle and Tim, she was a young Asian Hawaiian, older than Kyle but not much.
"Cute, huh?" Tim whispered, elbowing Kyle. He was slightly taller and had a bony, angular frame. "Hey, loosen up, little brother. You don't accomplish anything by sitting there stiff as a board. You gotta be like a cat, loose and flexible. That way you land on your feet." He jabbed Kyle harder and grinned.
Kyle reluctantly smiled back, rubbing the spot on his ribs. He was shorter than Tim and had a medium build, Tim even resembled a cat, but Kyle didn't.
Tim was charming, charismatic, and good-looking, quick to size people up and win them over. As he had planned, education was in veterinary medicine, with a specialty in horse breeding. Their father had been dead for seven years, leaving them both a substantial inheritance in Hawaiian real estate and diversified investments.
The money had paid for their educations and had allowed Tim the luxury of investing in his own string of horses. He ran his own stable, breeding as well as riding. One of his hobbies had become reading equine history," including military developments, for relaxation.
Kyle's loyalty and admiration for him had remained absolutely firm. Their friends and colleagues supposed it was because Tim was so independent and quick-witted. The real reason was that after that night Tim had kept his promise to stay between Kyle and their father.
On a number of later occasions before Kyle had his growth, their father had started to beat Kyle again, but Tim had always been nearby. Twice, their father, farther gone into his drinking than ever, had finally turned on Tim and beaten him savagely. Tim had taken the punishment instead of Kyle, who had trusted him implicitly ever since. Kyle's home life had made him passive out of caution, and devoted to his older brother.
"The defendants will rise," said the bailiff, in a shrill but bored voice.
They stood. So did their lawyer, Jake Ishihara.
"How do you plead?" Judge Southforth, a black woman with a streak of gray in her hair right in the front, stifled a yawn.
"Not guilty," said Jake firmly.
The judge was clearly surprised. She looked at Jake for a moment. "You do understand the defendants are charged under the Unlawful Assembly and Treason Act as Amended? Their followers failed to disperse a violent protest when so ordered by the authorities. By this law. that constitutes a declaration of rebellion." She frowned and read from her notes. "As the law reads, 'Failure to disperse shall be considered a declaration of rebellion.' " She looked up pointedly.
"Your Honor," said Jake, "neither of my clients was present at the riots, nor have they ever fomented armed rebellion in any form, at any time."
As they continued to talk, Kyle sat with nearly every muscle in his body tense. The problem was a wacky scheme of Tim's. Two years ago, he had started a political movement to turn Hawaii into a free-trade zone, to compete with the big Asian centers like Singapore, Macau, and Hong Kong. That part was ambitious, but understandable.
Kyle had signed up with him because the project had possibilities; besides, he had never been able to refuse Tim anything important. However, in order to attract attention and to create negotiating space, Tim had taken another step. He had suggested that Hawaii become an independent republic again, as it had been briefly long ago.
That move had not only drawn the unwanted attention of the authorities, but also a mixed following of anarchists, libertarians, entrepreneurs, fugitives, and opportunists of all kinds. Many of these followers had little use for each other, but they all understood that in a free-trade, independent Hawaii, they could have a fresh start. They had staged a number of protests on their own, several of which had turned into riots.
These incidents had clearly turned the local population against Tim's movement, despite his personal charm. As a result, Jake had convinced the brothers to waive their right to a jury trial. Jake had said he would have a better chance before a lone judge in arguing the distinction between his educated, establishment clients and the rabble who had rallied to them.
"Kyle, the younger brother," Jake was saying, "has been known as a reserved, responsible professional in many circles. Neither of my clients ever intended for Hawaii to become independent. That was a political trial balloon in the movement to make Hawaii a free-trade zone, no more."
"Considering the volume of tape of these riots," said Judge Southforth, "I had assumed you would just plead guilty."
"No, Your Honor."
"How do the people regard this?"
"Well." The prosecutor stood up, fumbling glasses onto his face. He was a pauncy, silver-haired man with a perpetual frown. "Every single one of these violent protests has been held in the name of Tim Eng for President of the Republic of Hawaii. We will introduce into evidence many media tapes of the rebellion and sworn testimony from rebels who have been granted immunity in exchange for testifying."
"That presidential campaign was a draft," said Jake smoothly. "My client had no part in that."
"You're out of order." Judge Southforth sighed, "All right. Let's get started."
Tim and Kyle were both found guilty.
They appealed, of course, and remained free on a very large bail during the process. Their family mansion and Tim's stables were all bonded. Kyle, who had never been in any kind of trouble before, was in shock.
On the other hand, Kyle was being carried along on the crest of Tim's wave. That was nothing new at all.
Maybe Kyle's biggest shock came when the appeal was denied. He had always seen his brother as being virtually unstoppable. Tim had never had any serious problems before, either. After their final court appearance, they remained free on bond, and Jake summoned them both to his office.
"I can't believe this," Kyle muttered, as they stood in front of Jake's desk. "This whole business is just insane."
"Aw, it's not that bad." Tim gave him a hearty slap on the back.