Welcome to another Hiatus bonus story of 10kd! This was requested by you guys long ago, but lost out in voting to the Adventures of Mister Sprinkles the Cat. I thought I'd bring it to life for you guys! If you haven't heard, this Saturday is the 10kd Halloween Special so please come by and take a read or a listen to it :)! Its going to be FANTASTIC. -Jim -- Art this week by Raen Ngu Oct 31st: 10,000 Dawns Halloween Special, art by Annie Zhu Nov 5th: The Adventures of Mister Sprinkles the Cat Sequel Nov 12th: Jame Morrel Story Nov 19th: (return to normal schedule) 10,000 Dawns Chapter 16 Previous chapters are also available as an audio podcast from the Southgate Media Group. http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawnspodcast You can also subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html Bonus Story #3: Knights and DragonsThe horse was exhausted, he’d ridden it too hard that day, but the urge to get where he was going had pushed away his sense. They were moving at a slot trot now, towards the fire in the distance. “Easy girl, we’ll rest up soon.” He patted her gently on the neck, wishing it was without his gauntlets. Finally, they were close enough to the fire he could see a lone figure sitting by it, who rose, a hand on the hilt of a blade. “Stop. State who you are.” “Sir Archimides of the House Ahnerabe. I’d like to use your fire if you don’t mind, my horse and I can’t travel much farther.” The figure looked them up and down, and then nodded. “You can tie your horse up by mine. There is a pond by the tree it can drink from if you leave the rope slack enough. You’re welcome to the stew as well. You try anything funny and I’ll gut you.” Fair enough. The figure’s voice was funny, higher than he expected. Still, no complaints from him. He tied Esmerelda up at the tree, grabbed a bowl and spoon from his saddlebag and clomped over to the fire. The figure was in fact a woman. She had red hair, cut short to fit under the helmet laying beside her, and the look of someone who had been in a lot of sword fights, with the nicks and scars of swordplay visible over her form. Arch ladled out some soup, sat down on a rock (she had already taken a convenient tree stump) and awkwardly began to spoon soup in through the visor gap in his helmet. She looked at him like he was an imbecile. “You know, you can take your helmet off.” He swallowed the spoonful of stew and shook his head. “No, I can’t. That’s why I’m going this way. I’m sure you know what’s at the end of this road.” She got up, stirred the stew, and ladled herself another serving.” “You tell me.” As if on cue, another figure began to approach through the darkness. Both of them reached for their swords. The woman called out again, “Stop. Who goes there.” The approaching figure stopped for a moment, as if unsure, and then replied, “Just a bard passing through, looking for coin or a fire.” The woman glanced at Arch again. “Come closer.” Then approached another woman, this one in garb most bizarre. She wore a long brown coat, on the breast of which there was an emblem of a sun and a moon that had crossed their forms together. Her blonde hair was shaved completely along the left side of her head all the way from the temple down, and the rest was combed over to drop down to the other side falling just below her jawline. “What’s your name, Bard?” The woman kept approaching. “I’m Kinan Jans. I hope you don’t mind my intrusion.” The red head gestured for her to take a seat, “What are your names?” She asked plainly. “I’m Lady MacLeod, the Knight of the Songbird. This is sir Archimedes of the House Ahnerabe. My squire is around here… Somewhere.” She trailed off at the end into a grumble. “I’m pleased to meet you both.” Said Kinan in the same monotone she said everything in. “You’re welcome to the stew. Jack made too much, again.” Kinan’s face showed no tell, but her eyes to arch showed a flash of recognition. “Jack would be your squire then?” Songbird nodded. “And you, Sir Archimedes, I see you’re still wearing your armor. Songbird here took it all off. Do you know something I don’t about her?” Arch shook his head, “I can’t, er, actually take it off. That’s why I’m here.” “You were saying that before she arrived.” Songbird said, gesturing at Kinan with her spoon. “So, why can’t you get out of your armor then?” Arch sighed. “Well, you see I’ve been cursed by the queen of this land. I accidentally insulted her taste in wine, and she lay a spell on my that makes it so that I cannot leave my suit of armor till I complete a task she set for me.” Arch said. “Then we’re on our way to the same place, I’d wager.” Alice replied, “You’re off to rescue the Queen’s daughter from the Dragon’s tower aren’t you?” He nodded in reply. “Then are we at cross purposes?” “Lady Songbird, I just want this curse released. If you’re after the reward, you can have it.” “I am.” She said. “Lady Songbird!” Another voice yelled, “I found some berries for us!” “Jack.” Kinan said. “Yes.” Songbird replied. He approached with a bowl chock full of blackberries, which the four of them split between them. Songbird reintroduced everyone, and they settled back in. “So then, bard, why don’t you sing us a song?” Kinan stared at Songbird. Songbird stared at Kinan. Jack and Arch glanced between them. “Sure.” Kinan replied. “I must warn you though, I never said I was a good bard.” “Okay, I get the part about ‘do a little dance, make a little love’ , but what exactly does ‘get down tonight’ mean?” Arch whispered. “Heck if I know.” Songbird replied. They had been riding for some time now, Kinan walking beside their horses. She was wearing unusual white pants, but they didn't seem to be being stained by the mud. Sir Arch didn't know who their guest was, but he was fairly certain she wasn't actaully a bard. They'd have to keep an eye on her. “There it is!” Songbird said, pointing over the hill the were cresting at the tower that was rising into view. “The Dragon's tower, if we can get in there and slay the dragon together, then get the princess out safely, we can get everything we need.” “You say 'need', not want.” Kinan noted, and held her gaze up at Alice. “I have people who need this money more than I do. I am responsible for them.” Songbird checked her sword. “They need me. And Arch needs to get out of his armor. So need.” Kinan nodded. “Why exactly are you here then?” Kinan narrowed her eyes as Alice reached down to reassure her horse. “I'm here,” she began, “to find knights who are going to take on this Dragon. I'm looking for new stories, after all. Oh the songs they will sing, etcetera.” Alice scrunched her lips to the left. Sure, right. “You do know no knights have returned alive from the tower, right?” Kinan nodded. “All the better the song will be if you succeed then.” They rode down the sloping hill to the tower, which loomed over them. It wasn't actually a very old tower, it looked like it had been constructed recently and fairly hastily (recently for a tower, so maybe a decade ago, maybe a decade and a half). The walls were no nonsense rough stone blocks which rose up to a equally simple parapit at the top. There was no ornamentation on the tower, and no door. Only a charred archway large enough for two people to walk abreast, abet cramped with their shoulders rubbing. “So this is it.” Alice said, “I'm not sure what I expected.” “It looks awful simple for a tower. There's hardly any ornamentation on the thing.” Arch said. “If by hardly you mean 'none'.” Kinan finished. They knew she was right. “Tell me bard, in songs of Dragons, don't the beasts usually prefer rich and ornamented places to make their foul nests?” Kinan nodded. “That's fairly regular in most western mythology about dragons.” “Western?” Arch asked. “Forget it.” Kinan said. “Right, so... I guess we need to head in.” They rode their horses to a tree, and tied them up, and put feed bags on them, then changed their minds and let the horses loose (“If we don't come out, no use letting them die.” Alice said) together they gathered outside the entrance and looked into the darkness beyond. “So, do we want to draw straws or what?” Arch asked. Alice rolled her eyes, put her helmet on, and stepped into the unknown. Her boots clanked on the stone floor. Even so, she moved carefully. Arch followed her, and Kinan took up the end of the line. Alice half expected traps as she walked, but the only change they found was when her foot crunched down instead of clanked. They Stopped, and she reached down, and felt the remains of a skull. “What is it?” Arch whispered. “The last group of unfortunates.” “Ah.” They felt along the walls and creeped through the hall, till eventually they hit a set of stairs. They carefully advanced upwards, and found themselves in a circular room that took up the whole floor of the tower. Scorch marks like the walls, and a few slits in the walls let in air and fading sunlight. A blackened steel ladder descended from a cloased trap door in the ceiling. They stepped into the room, and examined it. Something struck Songbird as odd about the room, but she couldn't quite place it. “Looks like the only way is up.” Arch said. He was right, of course. “I'll take first this time.” Arch climbed the ladder, and when he reached the trapdoor took a deep breath and turned a handle on it to undo the latch. He pushed up, and the other two follow him as he signaled it was safe. Arch climbed up into a girl's bedroom, the bedroom of a girl who had been there a long time. Old stuffed animals sat on a shelf, as well as tons of books that varied across the age spectrum wildly. A set of iron doors with a latch were set into one wall, and directly across from it was a large four poster bed complete with canopy where a teenage girl sat wearing a beautiful an ornate blue dress. Her hair was black: long and intricately braided. One one of her shoeless ankles was a thick shackle leading to a big chain. That was anchored into the wall. She didn't look as happy to see him as he'd expected. He climbed up and bowed, as Alice and Kinan scrambled up behind him. “Princess, my name is Sir Achimedes of the House Ahnerabe. This is Lady Songbird and the Bard Kinan. We've come to rescue you.” The girl smiled politely. “Okay, well, thanks for coming. But actually you should all leave. No rescuing needed, sorry!” Alice looked down at her ankle. “It doesn't look like you aren't in need of rescuing, to be blunt.” She said. “Really? I like it here. Its a very nice tower. Look, there is even a bookshelf. No need to worry.” She awkwardly made a gesture with her arms spread wide as if to say “this is all I need!” “Princess, please, you've been here a long time. There's a whole big world out there for you to explore.” “Nope, I'm fine. Seen that world. Not my thing. Personally this room is the best.” Kinan began walking through the room, examining the walls. “There is literally a dragon keeping you here.” Arch said, “It eats people.” “Yes!” The Princess said angrily, “It does, so get out of here before it returns. Do you know how many heroes have come here to rescue me? I've lost count. I really have. They've all died because they're stubborn like you and won't leave.” The princess ran to the iron doors and swung one open, revealing a balcony and the sunset. “The dragon will be here when its night. You need to leave. The dragon will kill you.” Arch shook his head. “So that's why you're pretending you like it here. You're tired of people dying for you.” The princess looked even angrier, and on the edge of panic. “Please, please you have to leave right now.” She ran up to them and unsuccessfully began to try to force Arch and Alice towards the trapdoor. “Go, go now before it eats you.” Alice grabbed her by the wrists, and Arch began to look for how to disconnect her shackle. “No, no! Stop! Please, you can't unshackle me! You can't do this! Let me go!” The princess cried. Kinan's eyes went wide, and she looked over at the trio. Arch pulled out a connecting pin, and the chain came off of the shackle. “Aha! Done!” “NO!” The princess cried. Kinan walked towards the thee of them forcefully. “Princess, how big is the dragon.” “Its big! Its huge!” “Then how did it get into the lower level when there is only a human sized doorway?” The princess stopped fighting back, and the sun lowered on the horizon. “Run.” She said. The princess began to wretch, and as she did her mouth began to elongate. Her skin began changing color, becoming a dark grey. Her pupils turned to vertical slits, and she started hunching over, her shoulders beginning to rise up under her dress and break the fabric. Arch and Alice stood stunned, so Kinnan ran forward, jumped, and kicked the princess in the side so she fell through the trapdoor, hitting the edge as she fell. They heard her body make a cracking thud on the ground, a horrible sound, and then the sound of the dress ripping apart and the howling screech of a dragon. Kinan slid down infront of the trapdoor with her landing, and closed the door, latching it as they heard the howling screech turn into a crackling inferno. The trap door grew hot enough it changed color slightly, with a small column of flame rising up from a hole just big enough for a chain to be notched into. “So.” Kinan said. “I'd say we found the dragon.” They spent the night in the room, listening to the dragon thrash around in the room below. An animal trapped in a cage. They managed to get a few hours of rest in between the noise, only to be awoken each time by the dragon screeching and slamming itself into the sturday walls. “So.” Alice began, “I don't think you're really a bard.” Kinan looked over at her. “No.” “So who are you and what are you doing here.” “I'm a traveler. I protect places, and I'm here on an investigation.” “You had suspicions the princess was really a dragon?” Arch asked. “No, but I've been looking at... People similar to the princess. I'm trying to understand them. Princess Scythes is certainly the first person I've ever met who shapeshifts into a dragon, for the record. But I think its still useful information.” “So this whole thing has been a trap for heroes, get them to go and save the princess, and lead them into a trap.” Alice mused. “But why? What does the queen get out of this?” “Let me take a wild guess,” Kinan monotoned, “you're secretly funding an underground resistance to the queen.” Alice's jaw dropped. “Who told you that?” “You. Well, more like I'm good at putting two and two together. I figured out she was the dragon before she killed us, remember?” That was certainly true. The dragon thrashed beneath them, underscoring the point. “So the question is, what are we going to do with the princess?” “You mean the dragon that has slain countless knights? Do you really think we can let a monster like that live?” Alice said. “Do I?” Kinan raised both eyebrows very slightly, which struck them both as the most expressive thing they'd seen her do. “Consider the opposite, this is a young woman who has been chained up her whole life begging people to leave her alone so she won't kill them when she becomes and uncontrolable monster. Is this her fault?” Alice bowed her head a little. “Well when you put it that way...” “So we don't kill her.” Kinan concluded. “Hold up here, you're just making that decision?” Arch said. She looked at him. Arch tried to make out her feelings on him, and it sort of angered him he couln't read her one bit. “Yes. Unless you have a counterpoint for why murdering children is okay.” “She is a danger to everyone around her....” “Only because the Queen tells everyone to go kill her. Tells knights she doesn't want around to go kill her. Her enemies in court. People who stand up too much for the common folk. I'm just guessing, so tell me I'm wrong.” Arch and Alice exchanged glances. “You're not wrong.” they said in unison. “I thought so.” Kinan looked out the window, “So we just wait till sunrise.” Princess Graelyn Scythes awoke naked in the transformation room, the charred threads of what was left of her dress in a few heaps. On the floor. She felt on her ankle, and found the chain had been undone. She moaned, and curled up in a ball, covering her face with her hands. She'd eaten those people. Just like always. The last thing she remembered was telling them to run, and then she was the dragon and... Wait. She stuck her hand in her mouth and felt around. Her mouth didn't taste like blood and flesh... there were no bits left in there... She sat up, and looked around the room. No bones. No corpses. She stood up and crossed her arms, trying to keep her heat in. The morining was chilly, and having no clothes didn't help. Cautiously, she walked towards the ladder and called up it. “Don't open it if you are, but are you alive up there?” There was a pause, and she thought she assumed she'd been too optimistic when she heard someone call down. “Princess? Is that you?” “It is. Could you please throw something down from my closet? Please don't look down.” There was a scrambling from up above, and a simple dress came down the trap door along with some underclothes. Graelyn put them on, and climbed up the ladder. At the top were the three people from last night, the two knights and the strangely dressed bard. “I'm very glad you all survived.” Graelyn said, “I'm princess Graelyn Scythes... No one has ever survived a night here before.” “So we noticed.” Songbird said. “I suppose its best if you get it over with....” Graelyn said, pulling her hair to one side of her neck, and getting on her knees. She closed her eyes. “Please make it quick.” The three looked at each other, and Arch reached down, taking her hand. She opened her eyes, and looked up confused. “Did you miss me turning into the dragon? I'm the dragon, if that wasn't clear. I eat people. So you're supposed to kill me.” She tried to think of how to make it clearer. “I am evil. There is a dragon inside me. You need to kill me.” “If you were really evil, would you have asked for us to leave, tried to persuade us?” Kinan said. “You're not evil. Sadly, you're not that important.” “What?” “No offense.” “What Kinan means,” Alice said, “is you didn't choose to be put in this tower did you? Or for knights to come here to fight you. You were put in a situation where you couldn't help but do bad things. You didn't have a choice.” Graelyn looked to the side, her head down, her eyes inspecting the houndstooth pattern on the rug. Kinan knelt down. “It was your mother, the Queen, you put you here, correct?” “To protect people from what's wrong with me!” “She is the one sending people here for you to kill.” Graelyn looked up shocked. “What? You're lying.” “She sent Lady Songbird and myself here to rescue you.” Arch said. “All those knights? I... I thought they just...” Graelyn was holding back tears. “I still killed them though. I'm an animal when I'm a dragon. I just want to feed.” “Do you keep your memories from when you change?” Kinan asked, and Graelyn nodded. Kinan looked at Arch and Alice. Arch whose face was trapped under that helmet, Alice who had fought in so many battles. Kinan had seen them before, and would see them again. The faces repeated. She knew them, maybe better than they knew themselves. The aesthetics changed, sometimes the motivations changed, but there was always something deep down that was the same. It often wasn't what people expected. She'd run into one person who she'd found their most consistent characteristic across their infinite lives was a love of peppermint, and then another whose was a fierce loyalty to their friends. But there was always something the same. “Lets stay here one more night.” Kinan said. “Are you crazy?” Said Sir Arch. “She turns into a dragon.” “And as we proved, we're totally safe in this upper room. You two can stay up here, and I'll stay with the dragon.” “That's insane!” Alice cut in, “It will literally eat you.” “She's right.” Graelyn whimpered. Kinan knelt down in front of Graelyn, and with her thumb and forefinger turned her face up to look at her. “I've seen a lot of things. More things than you can imagine. Do you know what I've learned in all that time?” Graelyn shook her head, moving Kinan's hand back and forth. “I've learned that you can't change what's been done to you, but you can do what you can to manage it, and if you can find the right steps, you can manage it. The only solution isn't the first option you found. Its not just between hurting other people and holing yourself up in this tower till you grow old and die.” Kinan rolled her sleeve up, and pointed out some circular scars on her inner arm. “When I was a young girl, some people thought they could make me their toy. And part of that came from making me afraid of myself, and making sure I didn't have the power I was truly capable of. Why do you think you're not dead? There's something inside you they are terrified of. Something they don't want you to know.” She held out her hand to Graelyn. It was a strong hand, calloused and tightly muscled. “Give me the chance to show you you're strong.” Graelyn looked up at the three of them, the other two seemed a bit amazed Kinan had just said all of that. She looked back down at the hand, and slid her own into it. “I'll give you that chance.” They wasted the day playing cards, Alice and Arch got the horses back and fed them again, and they took turns telling stories (Kinan was a bit hard to listen to because she barely ever broke her monotone, but it was still a goo story. Alice's was probably the best as she interspersed it with song and had the best singing voice Arch or Graelyn had ever heard. Arch's story was descent, and Graelyn's was clearly from one of her books). When night began to approach, Graelyn went downstairs with Kinan, and stripped down while Kinan turned her back, and then wrapped herself in a blanket for modesty. “You can turn around now.” Kinan did, and coul tell Graelyn still felt awkward wrapped only in a blanket in front of another person. “Its okay.” Kinan said rather ineffectually. She didn't really know what else to say, then gave up and decided she may as well get to work. “Here, eat this.” Kinan said, pulling something out of a pouch at her hip. “What is it?” Graelyn asked, peering at it. “It looks like... bluish Crystal dust.” “It is crystal dust. Now eat it.” Graelyn began to eat it, it was pretty difficult to get it down, so Kinan offered her some water, which helped. “Okay, now what?” “Think of what I just gave you as medicine. It should help you control what's happening to you.” “What if you're wrong?” Graelyn asked. “You'll eat me.” Kinan deadpanned. It wasn't very reassuring. The sun began to drop below the horizon. Graelyn began to gag. Kinan stepped towards her, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders. She could feel them changing under her grip, the bones shifting and pulsing. “Now Graelyn, I need you to focus. Focus on you. Remember who you are. Who are you?” “G-G-Graeelyn.” She gasped out. “Good. You don't want to hurt anyone do you?” She shook her head, and as she did so lurched downwards, the blanket falling away, the tips of wings pushing out from her back. “You're Graelyn Scythes. Say it.” “I-” she screeched, “Grae.” She forced it out. “And you don't want to hurt anyone.” Her skin was turning to scales, her fingernails were elongating into thick claws, her body was expanding rapidly, her neck elongating with her features, totally breaking the laws of the conservation of mass (well, technically Kinan knew she was converting a massive amount of energy into mass, and then expelling it but for most realities this would be breaking fundamental laws). The dragon in front of her let out a howling screech, and Kinan got close to it, moving to the side of its head to look into her big eye. “Your name is Graelyn Scythes, and you don't want to hurt anyone. Say it.” The dragon screeched, and bit at her. Kinan moved fast, and jumped around it's muzzle, forcing its mouth shut with her arms and thighs. “You are in control Graelyn. You are Graelyn, and you don't want to hurt anyone.” The dragon thrashed its head, trying to throw the burdensome rider off, but Kinan just held on tighter. “Think about your room. What was the story you told us about? You told a story.” The dragon tried to slam her into a wall, but she moved like a spider down its head onto its neck. The dragon rolled, and thrashed, but Kinan didn't let go even as she scurried across its body with a preternatural ease. “You're not used to this are you? You want to eat me don't you? Well, maybe that's the next step.” She dropped off the side of the dragon, and landed like a cat, rising to her feet and staring the dragon down impassively. It charged her, blowing fire. As the smoke cleared, the dragon expected her to be charred remains, a burning husk. But there she was, a curved line in front of her as though the fire had stopped right in front of Kinan. She stared. She didn't blink. The dragon charged again, mouth ready to devour her, and Kinan did nothing. As the jaw reached the moment where it was about to snap shut around her, she stomped her foot down, hard, and pushed her arm up. The dragon struggled, like someone had jammed a stick in its mouth. The dragon screeched, and blew more fire, and shook its head hard enough to break someone's neck, but Kinan just stood there, placid. Finally, it stopped moving. “Are you listening to me? I lied that you'd be able to eat me, obviously. But those lies are necessary. You aren't dangerous. I need you to realize that. You are Graelyn Scythes, and you don't want to hurt me, but there is another thing: you can't kill me. You cannot.” It tried to bite down harder, to no avail. “You can't. Which means everything you've presumed about your condition is a lie. A lie to make you think you're a monster, that you're worthless. That you could never live a life outside of this cage.” The dragon's jaw's went loose, an Kinan stepped out from it, placing her hand gently on its snout. “Do you know who tells that to people?” Kinan put her lips to the dragon's ear and whispered. “Monsters. Abusers. Controllers. People who want power over you. Who want to pretend they are your god.” She gently stroked the dragon's snout. “But you are Graelyn Scythes. Do you understand that?” The dragon looked unsure. “Its okay, you don't have to understand it now. But you're in there. This dragon is a part of you. And you don't have to do what they want you to do.” The dragon rumbled, and shuddered, and Kinan felt something thick and wet hit her shoulder. It was a tear. She gently stroked the dragon's snout, and felt an anger rise inside her. Kinan knew she would be making someone pay. But she couldn't think about that now. “Someone did this to you. You are Graelyn Scythes, and you don't want to hurt anyone.” Arch an Alice opened the trapdoor after the noise stopped, and saw the dragon curled up with Kinan, the two of them asleep. Arch looked at Alice, “I can't believe it.” Alice couldn't either. She closed the trapdoor gently, and they slept soundly. Graelyn woke up to find a blanket over her body, and Kinan standing over by the one of the thin slits in the wall, her back to her. “You're awake.” Kinan said. Graelyn nodded, and then realized she couldn't see it. “Yes. I.... I sort of remember last night?” Kinan nodded. “You did well. You'll be able to control it more and more as you practice. You'll need more of the medicine I gave you.” “What was that stuff anyways?” “Its too long a story to really explain in detail. In short, that dust allows you to tap into a version of yourself that isn't a dragon somewhere else.” “You mean my daytime self.” “No- well, sure. We'll go with that.” Kinan turned around. “We need to pay your mother a visit.” Graelyn shook her head. “I can't control myself yet.” “Then we'll wait until we can.” “We'll stay and help!” A voice from upstairs yelled. “We can hear you guys talking you know.” Graelyn smiled, “You guys will really stay and help me?” The trapdoor opened, and a fresh set of clothes dropped down, followed by an upside down Alice head that hung there smiling. “Of course we will. After all, empowering the people is sort of my main interest.” Arch groaned from somewhere behind her. “That's all she talked about last night, by the way.” Graelyn laughed. Maybe things would be okay after all. * * * * Queen Scythes drank deeply from her cup, and watched the jester juggle some balls again. Things seemed like it would be a generally boring day in court, up until the guard ran into the room. Everyone naturally turned. “My Queen!” Said the guard, “Three adventurers have returned with your lost daughter! She has been saved from the dragon.” She dropped her cup in shock. “That's impossible!” “My Queen, I have seen it with my own eyes. This is a joyous day for the Kingdom indeed. They are being brought here to the main hall post haste!” The Queen tried to think of something to say. How was this possible? She tried to think on her feet, but nothing came to her, and she heard the approaching cheers. Finally, she decided to call a guard. As the three adventurers and her daughter came into the room, she screamed: “that is not my daughter!” there was a collective gasp. “Mother its me!” Graelyn said, “I've been rescued.” “I know my daughter. You're the dread dragon in disguise. Don't try to fool us with your sorcery.” The guard's lowered their pikes into a charging position. “Mother, how can I prove that its me? I'm no dragon!” Her mother grinned a wicked grin. “Why, why don't you stay in this room past sundown?” Graelyn shrugged. “If that would prove it to you, that won't be any problem at all.” Graelyn sat down at a table, and smiled around the room. The room was tense as the day progressed, but as the sun set, Graelyn simply sat there picking at a sweet roll. The Queen was furious, but kept a polite smile on her face. The four of them, the whole plotting group just sat there politely chatting. “Arch, you said she cursed you correct? How did she do that?” Arch gestured to the queen's necklace, a blue crystal. “Everyone knows that the queen has that magic amulet. She never takes it off.” Kinan raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, I need to go commit treason.” Kinan said, and got up from the table. Her companions halfheartedly tried to stop her, but in the end just let her go. She seemed to know what she was doing most of the time, anyways. The Queen watched her approach incredulously. “So, you're the foreigner who has riled up--” Kinan cut her off by drawing a blade from under her coat and carefully slicing the chain of the necklace so that she cut not a nic of flesh, and the amulet dropped down into her hand. Casually, she walked back to Graelyn, as the Queen back to gag. “I guess you inherited the whole dragon thing. Who knew. Anyways, this should solve your problems.” She tossed the amulet to Graelyn, who caught it and clasped it tightly. “Uh, Kinan...” Alice said, watching the Queen's wing's burst out of her back as the people in the room began to scream and flee. “...She's turning into a dragon.” Kinan shrugged and finished her wine. “Well you guys are heroes, lets go deal with the problem.” Arch and Alice drew their swords, and Graelyn , clutching the amulet, seemed to make a decision. “We're all heroes.” She said, and closing her eyes and focusing, began to gag. Two dresses ripped apart, and two dragons screeched at each other. Their wings unfurling, they belched fire at each other, sending the tables in the main hall flying and burning into walls. Alice, Arch and Kinan began to run towards the dragon, two of them with swords drawn. As the dragons circled each other, they waited. Graelyn tried to go for her mother's neck with a bite, but the queen tried to scratch her eyes out so she pulled back. “Now.” Alice said, and the three humans leapt into action. Arch and Alice stabbed downwards, putting their swords through the dragon's front feet, and then pulling to stab their swords between cracks in the stone floor where they stuck. Kinan leapt, and wrapped herself around the dragon's mouth, forcing it shut. Graelyn took the opportunity, and tackled her mother, holding her to the floor as she thrashed. “Guards! Chains!” Alice yelled. The guards poked their heads in through a crack in the door. “Don't just stand there gawking, chains!” * * * * Graelyn knelt as the Bishop lowered the crown on her head, and she rose up to face the crowd. “Long live Queen Scythes!” The Bishop said, and the crowd repeated it with a fervor. Graelyn smiled over at her Lord Protector of the Crown, Archimedes, and Lord Protector of the People, Songbird. They grinned back at her. She'd used the amulet to dispel Arch's curse (after some trial and error) and it was nice to see his face. Kinan stood there next to them, also clapping, but not smiling. Then again, she hadn't seen her smile once so she didn't take it as an insult. There was more pomp and circumstance, but she finally got the chance to talk to her friends soon afterwards. “I owe you all so much. I can't believe how much things have changed in such a short time. I hope you'll all stay here at my court, we can truly make this land a great one together.” “You know I'll help, the people of this land need lots of things. Safety, education, basic healthcare...” Alice said. “And I'll definitely stay to.” Arch said, “I owe you as much.” Graelyn held her hands out, and they took them, and knelt, but she pulled them up and hugged them instead. Then she turned to Kinan. “Won't you stay as well? I owe you the most of all.” “You owe me nothing.” Kinan said. “You were the one who learned to master your powers. Not me. Anyways, I have other places to be. I'm a busy woman.” “Please, reconsider-” “I'll check back in every so often to make sure you're keeping control of yourself, and leave some dust in case that amulet doesn't do the job by itself. But I really do need to be off. I came here to learn about you, Graelyn, and I certainly learned quite a bit. I just hope its useful.” “Still, I'm grateful.” Kinan nodded. “Be better than the people who hurt you.” Kinan said, and turned and began to walk away. “We won't forget you. You'll always be welcome.” Kinan turned her head, and for a moment Graelyn thought she might smile, but she turned her head back, and walked out the door into the great beyond. Join us this Saturday for the 10,000 Dawns Halloween Special! Its going to be GREAT so make sure you stop by!
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Story by James Wylder, Art by Annie Zhu Author's Note: As of today, we are officially on Hiatus! We'll be taking a month off to get the next arc of 10kd ready to go, but because we're bad at Hiatuses, we're also still going to be having new 10kd stories every week about side characters from the Universe! You can check out the (revised) schedule below :). Happy reading! I hope you enjoy the end of this story arc... Here we go! -Jim Oct 22nd: Alice "Songbird" MacLeod Story Oct 29th: "Knights and Dragons" Story Oct 31st: 10,000 Dawns Halloween Special, art by Annie Zhu Nov 5th: The Adventures of Mister Sprinkles the Cat Sequel Nov 12th: Jame Morrel Story Nov 19th: (return to normal schedule) 10,000 Dawns Chapter 16 Previous chapters are also available as an audio podcast from the Southgate Media Group. http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawnspodcast You can also subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html Chapter 15: The Trial of Graelyn Scythes"You keep breathing but you don't know why.
Life's unfair and sometimes you die. You're still breathing but you just can't tell, don't hold your breath but the pretty things are going to hell." -David Bowie Graelyn fidgeted as the head of the board of Directors spoke on an and on. She couldn't stay focused, it was like the world around them was crumbling into a million puzzle pieces and she was scrambling around on the floor trying to replace them. She looked down at her hands. She frowned. "Excuse me," Ariadne Moore interupted, "I need to step out for a moment." She had clearly just gotten some message on her phone, the head of the board indicated it was fine if she left. The meeting continued for a few more minutes, and then the waiter came in with some refreshments. "Now if we can just turn around things in China we can--" "Excuse me everyone," the waiter said, "I'm afraid I have some bad news." The board looked up in unison, as the man drew a gun. "Viva La Revolucion." He finished." Many on the board scampered under the table, some pressed panic buttons hidden on rings and watches. The man held firm, and after a brief explosion heard from the same floor, a stream of pro-Revolutionary forces stormed into the room. "I will not be taken to be put on some show trial!" The head of the board screamed, as two revolutionaries grabbed her and took the suicide capsule from her mouth by force. "Now now." A voice said, a firm voice, and then stepped forward a Songbird of Liberation. "No one ever said you'd be getting a trial. Line them up. Get the ropes." Graelyn didn't fight back, she just stared at her reflection in the glass. How did she get to where she was? They would never understand why she had to do what she had to do. She heard her name listed off, and realized this was the end. She hadn't done nearly enough. But as she fell, she saw herself. Young, screaming, she remembered that outfit even. She didn't have time to think about it before she fell and the rope went taught. It wasn't a quick death, and when Alice said "You're dead." a few yards above her, she was in fact wrong. Graelyn had always heard that when you die your life flashes before your eyes. It turned out to be somewhat true, cause only part of it appeared. She saw a few days, like flashes, before her breath stopped, and she just hung there like a medal. February 18th, 2494 The conductor raised her arms, and in a sweeping motion brought the orchestra to life. It wasn't just music, it was an organism, set to live for only seven minutes and so many seconds. The strings bore the brunt of the beast's life, and they set to work in a a fervor. Graelyn Scythes closed her eyes for a moment. She could feel the gentle weight of the glasses on the bridge of her nose, and on the top of her ears. Ashlyn reached out an clutched her hand, she reciprocated the gesture, allowing a faint smirk to creep onto her. The orchestra below was literally playing her song. Things really couldn't be better. The audience rose to applaud the piece. Bandwagon fans, she thought. June 4th, 2494 Ashlyn heard the lock turn in the next room, and Graelyn steppe into the bedroom rubbing her eyes. "What exactly is in that room anyways? You really don't have to worry about me spilling your secrets." Graelyn smiled at her reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. Its just very sensitive work. I don't want to show anyone tilll i know if it works or not." Ashlyn nodded. It was basically the same explanation as last time. She felt like a detail had changed from the last telling though.. Though she couln't place which one. "Don't be so worried." Graelyn muttered, slipping under the covers. The cat walked over, and sat on the bed, so Graelyn got up and put it in its cage. "Why did you name the cat Captain Fudgesickle?" Graelyn shrugged as she settled into bed again. "It just seemed like the the I'm supposed to do." "You mean as a cat owner?" There was a prolonged silence. "...No, I, never mind." She rolled over, and was silent. July 3rd, 2494 Graelyn watched the Mexico City facility fade from view as the VTOL began making its way to New York. This was all necessary. She knew it was necessary. If she didn't do this... Her thoughts trailed off. Why was this necessary? She tried to put her thoughts in order, but they didn't quite line up properly. Like someone had put the answer at the end of an equation and she had to work towards it no matter what. This was the answer, but the question eluded her. This was to fight Mars, right? Or the Rim pirates? She'd said as much to herself before, but there had to be a more efficiant way for this to happen. Why this way? She felt her head start to pound. As she looked in her reflection in the window, it suddenly struck her that her hair color was wrong. June 8th, 2495 Ashlyn slipped out of bed, and picked the keys up out of Graelyn's purse. She had to know. It had been eating away at her all this time, and she had to know. It could be nothing behind that door, but if it wasn't... She didn't even know what it would be. But she still creeped towards the door, keys in hand, and taking one last look to see that Graelyn was asleep, turned the lock. She opened the door slowly, and peered in. At first there was only darkness, but then there was a movement in the shadows. She stifled a reaction, and fiddled for a switch. The lights turned on, revealing a man, his body lined in scars. He turned to her, pityingly. He didn't speak, for his mouth was sewn shut. "Such a pity." Graelyn said, with a sigh. Ashlyn turned, and put her hand over her mouth in shock. "Graelyn, you're awake. I just, you left the door open and..." Graelyn shook her head, and jangled the keys. "You should have trusted me Ashlyn. So many things would have been simpler." Graelyn went over to the sink, and turned the water on. She flipped a switch so the basin would fill. "What are you doing? Who is he?" "A test subject. The son of a rather important figure who opposed us, actually. Now he's finally usefull to society. Johnathan, come over here." He followed her, and Ashleyn rubbed her arm nervously. "Ashlyn, you to. I need you to see something." She followed, against her better judgement. "Now Ashlyn, Johnathan is the ultimate solider. He follows every order. With use of an army of him we could take back Mars, take the Rim, finally have a true united humanity... But I can't... I can't shake the feeling I'm missing something. There is a larger reason I've been working on all of this. I can't place it though, like its a bug hovering around my head I can never swat or catch a glimpse of. Do you know what I'm saying." "I... I think so." "Good. You've been a good wife Ashlyn. Sorry about this, and I mean that, you know that? I'm not a bad person." "Of course you're not-- I don't understand, you're not leaving me are you?" Graelyn put her arms around her. "No no no, of course not. I'll never leave you as long as we're both breathing." Ashlyn sighed, and leaned into Graelyn's chest, but she shoved her back against Johnathan. "Johnathan. Hold her head down in the sink till she stops breathing." Johnathan looked pained, horrified even, but he didn't hesitate for a moment. Graelyn pulled a drink out of the fridge and took a seat as the splashing and water muffled screaming grew fainter and fainter. What an unpleasant night. "Please get rid of the body Johnathan, I don't really care how." She looked up at him. "She did know that you can never achieve anything if you aren't willing to cut out your own heart? That you cannot advance unless you sacrifice what matters to you?" Johnathan was silent. "It was necessary. This all was necessary. And I will be remembered as a hero." Her feet turned gently in the breeze. After some time, her left shoe fell off. * * * * July 27th, 2495 She chose her clothes carefully. She'd never been particularly interested in clothes, not the way lots of people were, but she payed attention to them. Today, she chose them more carefully than usual. Manuel had given her a whole wardrobe, and she picked out a luscious hounds-tooth blue and red blazer and skirt. She had new glasses fabricated that matched the pattern, and put on a pair of black converse all-stars. Her lawyer had raised an eyebrow, but she couldn’t escape the fear she'd have to run again, and she was tired of getting caught in dress shoes. She picked out a tie and a blouse, and put her hair up in a ponytail. She looked in the mirror, and she felt like herself. Her black hair, her lean physique, her favorite clothes to wear... She was ready. Today was the day. Today she would prove something to more than just herself. Antwon Phillipe had the cameraman run one more check, and then they began filming. Minh-Ho was still setting up, and she didn't have as good a view of the Oslo Courthouse. He flashed his winning smile and began broadcasting. "We're here in Oslo for the trial of the century. Graelyn Scythes claims to be a different individual from the Centro director-- Wait it looks like the accused is arriving now!" The van pulled up, an armed guard forming a human fence between the back doors of the truck, and the accused stepped out from the van, carefully helped down by a blonde revolutionary in a Beret. Instantly, the scene was mobbed. The soldiers held ranks, and Graelyn tried to hold her head high as Jame came to her side, Shona coming down from the truck to guard the other side. The cries and jeers of the crowd grew louder and louder, and soon things were being flung, most of them impacting on the stoic chests of the people in uniform. "Just hold in there. Its only twenty meters to the door, and then you can't hear them anymore." Jame whispered to her. She nodded, and the trio began walking. "Murderer!" She heard a woman yell. "If they don't kill you we will!" She heard a man yell. "You don't deserve a trial they should just shoot you where you stand!" Someone cried out. Graelyn kept her head up as Jame and Shona ushered her through the human corridor. Then a thrown object went high-- and Graelyn cried out as Shona shoved her back from a brick that slammed into the pavement in front of them with such force it shipped it and then bounced. "Shit." Jame muttered, and pushed Graelyn forward again. She looked between her guardians with an edge of fear. "Why are you scared Graelyn? Afraid we'll do to you what you did to us?" The crowd erupted in mocking laguhter at that, and then another object went high. Shona batted it out of the way, but it spattered all over her, coating her in some sort of red fluid. Graelyn nearly panicked before realizing it was red cream soda. "We have to keep going." Graelyn decided, and they kept moving, as the guards were pushed in by the crowd, narrowing their passageway. "IS THIS ANYWAY FOR A PEOPLE TO BEHAVE?" A voice boomed out, and Songbird stepped out of the courthouse like a thunderstorm. Her eyes were lightening, and her voice was the sky. "If you want to murder her, go ahead. Do it. Lower yourself to Centro's level. Let the history books show we were no better than the people we gained our freedom from. Embarass yourself. Do it if you want to. I won't stop you." The crowd grew eerily silent. "Or you can trust that within those wall's justice will be decided. There will be a livestream. Or I suppose I fought tooth and nail since I was a child for freedom so we could commit our own attrocities with out the government's help. Is that what you want?" The crowd looked at each other, as though trying to figure out if the question was rhetorical or not, and then a chorral of untimed overlapping, "No, Songbird...."'s began. She nodded. "Then let her through." She took one look at Graelyn's shocked face, and turned and walked back inside. "Do we know who the jugde is yet?"Graelyn whispered, after they'd been set up at their table. "No." Jame said angrily. "I have a feeling this trial is going to be highly unorthodox. As much as the WRC is claiming its not a show trial, they're livestreaming it. Which means it is a showtrial." Graelyn narrowed her eyes. "So I'm performing for more than just for the Judge then." "Yes. They don't need this to be a jury trial. They have a planetwide jury waiting. Billions of people are already tuned in right now you know, I have the app open on my phone. The audience is only going to grow one we officially start." Jame pointed over to the other table. "That's our opponant, Marissa Thomas. She was the chief Prosecutor of the African Superior Court before she defected to the revolution. She's tough." "Have you ever won a trial against her before?" Jame shook their head. "No, not even close. I had one trial against her years ago and she ripped me apart." Graelyn did not feel reassured. "Oh, don't look at me like that. This is different. I've got an Ace in the hole." "You do?" Jame raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd figured it out by now." Jame might have said more, but a representative of the WRC stepped forward to to make an announcement. Graelyn looked behind her to see the Salazars including Manuel, Maria, and Lizette, Archimedes, Shona, and Alice were all in the audience. She was reassured to see most of them, though she had a hard time meeting alice's gaze. "To all in attendance, and all viewing remotely: The WRC has decided on a judge for this trial. There is only one candidate we have determine is fit to decide this contest fairly." "Wiggins? Al-?" Jame muttered to themselves. "And so we are proud to introduce to you the Judicator, model 0001, of Talinata Systems. Justice of the Peace, and of the Revolution." The ensuing reaction was luckily filmed for posterity, as Jame and Marissa's jaws dropped in unison. As the worlds soaked in, the court exploaded in noise. Both Jame and Marissa were yelling objections, the crowd was screaming or laughing, or just sitting there confused, which was what Graelyn was doing. The representitive stood calmly, and then the side door opened for the Justice to step through, and all eyes fell on it. The Judicator was not just a justice, it was Justice. With its every step, it broadcast to the world that damn son, you'd better be fair because the Judicator would know if you weren't. Its feet stepped through up to the Judge's podium cutting through the din like noise canceling headphones. It slid into its chair, and spun aroun in it once before settling in and leaning forward. "I'm curious." The Judicator said, "What exactly the two of you are objecting about when I'm barely even in my seat." The court was totally still, and Jame and Marissa looked almost embarrassed. "I'm the Judicator, like this kind representative said. I've been programmed with a completely objective and lawful attitude towards all beings, and insurmountable clemency for the facts. Now if you wouldn't mind, are there any objections to me?" Graelyn tugged at Jame's sleeve, "What is that?" "A myth." Jame whispered. "The Judicator once convicted the entire board of Directors centuries ago. It got deactivated because it was too fair. It doesn't see the social good. It doesn't see regimes. It sees justice. It knows the entire history of world law. Centro never trusted AI's after the debacle it put them through." Graelyn looked at the machine, its rectangle eyes glowing bright blue, and couln't help but wonder if this was actually all real. "Excuse me, your honor, but how can we trust your programming is... Not corrupted after all these centuries?" "Fair question." The Judicator's eyes flashed, and a file popped up on the tablets of Jame and Marissa. "I have been tested by every single living member of a superior and supreme court on Earth, and I have passed every test flawlessly." They took a moment to scroll through the results, they were inarguable. "Any more objections?" "Your honor," Jame began, "we've only just been informed you are our Justice. Perhaps it would be prudent to postpone the trial...?" The Judicator leaned back. "Under normal circumstances, I would. Unfortunately delaying this trial would only serve to further the prosecution's cause, not because it would give them more facts, but because it would allow public opinion to continue to sway in their direction. It would be irresponsible of me to allow further delays when people are already throwing bricks at your client." Graelyn shuffled her feet. "Now then, you two are both ready for this trial then? Do you have opening arguments? Because please, I'm a sucker for opening arguments. Gets my gears all in a tizzy." "Yes we do, your honor." Said both lawyers. "Excellent. Then we'll begin with the prosecution. Miss Thomas?" Marissa stood up. "Thank you your honor. As you're well aware, there has been much debate as to who the woman we are putting on trial is. I have no doubt the defense will argue that this is an entirely different person from the Graelyn Scythes who committed atrocities, and that we should hold her wholly uncountable for the actions of the character of the woman we know of as Graelyn Scythes, let alone that woman's action's. However, upon any careful analysis, we can determine that if these are two different women, if, then they hold remarkably similar traits. For example, a history of lies and distorting the truth to protect herself." "Objection!" "Overruled, for now. Continue Miss Thomas." "Along with this, we have the issue of participating in the Prison break of a month ago, as well as the attempted assassination of Alice MacLeod." Graelyn felt the camera on her, her skin itched. "Actions that the accused has not denied taking part in, simply denied the state's motivation for doing." "Objection, the prosecution is leading the court with the accusation that shooting Alice MacLeod was an 'assassination'. This term requires that the state's accusation's of motive are true to be accepted as a description of the event." "Sustained. Clerk, wipe that from the record." The Judicator looked at the cameras. "And you'd better remember, this is a court, not a game show. You're watching. But you aren't playing from home. Continue, Marissa." "Thank you, your honor. In conclusion, over the course of this trial, we shall prove the intent of Graelyn Scythes to kill Alice MacLeod, as well as to prove that this woman is a danger to society. Thank you." There was some applause, but the Judicator silenced it in an instant. "Now let me hear the defense." Jame rose from their seat. "Thank you your honor. My client has withstood an incredible amount of vitriol thrown at her for crimes she not only did not commit, but had no reason to. The prosecution is right in saying I will assert that this woman is different from the Centro Systems Director of the same name, but is incorrect in saying that this is a moot point. The character of these two women could not be more different. As the court is aware, Graelyn Scythes helped save the life of Alice MacLeod, after she accidentally discharged a firearm at her." "Objection, now the defense is leading the court." "Sustained." "Apologies. We attest that the discharge was accidental. That Graelyn helped administer life saving care to Alice is an unquestioned point, and conflicts tremendously with the idea she has a defect of character. Over this trial we will prove that Graelyn's character is of sound quality, that she holds no responsibility for the actions of the other Graelyn Scythes, and that the weapon discharge on Alice MacLeod was accidental." There was some boring time filling, and then Marissa called her first witness. "What are they going to open with?" Graelyn whispered. "I'm not sure. They won't be opening with their strongest evidence though. They're going to try to tear your character down before they drop any bombshells." "I call as my first witness, Archimees Artemis VonAhnerabe." Most people didn't understand the relevance of what was just said, after all, they didn't know who Archimedes was. But Graelyn was shocked. "He wouldn't have volunteered for this!" Graelyn whispered loudly. "Of course not." Jame replied. "But he'll go on the stand nonetheless." Arch indeed looked fairly confused, but was escorted to the stand. He was offered a variety of texts to take an oath on, and chose a book of Greek Mythology, which was promptly pulled up on a tablet. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth by your gods?" "I do." He replied. "We would like the court to be aware," Marissa continued, "that the Judicator is capable of telling whether or not you are lying." "Can it really do that?" Graelyn muttered. "I'm not counting out anything today." Jame replied. "Now, Archimedes, how did you meet Miss Scythes?" "She rescued me when I fell in the ocean. Pulled me up into a big facility she was working in called Project Atlantis. I owe her my life. She reactivated me," "Excuse me." Marissa cut in, "But you say she reactivated you. Did she access your internal systems?" "Yes, she did." "Now am I correct in thinking that your memories can be electronically accessed?" "Yes, I have an access port for data exchanges." "Did she access that." "Yes, though I don't see how that's relevant." "Archimedes, how do you know she didn't access your memories?" "She did access my memories." There was a rumbling through the court, the Judicator quieted it. "Oh? Really. You're certain of it." "She told me so herself to apologize for it. It was an accident?" "An accident? To access someone's personal memories?" "She didn't realize I was a person, she thought I was an automaton." "Archimedes, isn't it possible that she manipulated your memories when she was inside your systems?" "She wouldn't do that." "But if she was inside your systems, she could have colored your perceptions of her. Erased how you really met. Doesn't it sound preposterous that she just found you at the bottom of the ocean? Doesn't it make more sense that your utterly bizarre story was a fabrication on her part? A way to get you on her side?" "Uh, no, not to me." "But you admit its possible?" "Its possible, but it didn't happen." "Could you know for certain it didn't happen?" "...No." Jame rose up. "Objection, proving a possibility is not a fact." "Sustained." Marissa smirked. Jame knew she'd already gotten what she needed. "Now, Mr. VonAhnerabe, you have a very distinctive design to your exterior. Are you aware who designed it?" "Direc-er, Mister Salazar did. But not that Mister Salazar. One from-" "An alternate, dimension, yes. Now, part of your surrender to the Revolutionary forces in New York involved consenting to a full physical inspection, correct." "Correct." "Now, I have many accounts from scientists claiming they have seen nothing like your design outside of one other inspection they have done. Are you aware of who they might be comparing you to?" "No ma'am." Graelyn's eyes widened. "Jame, uh, I know what she's trying to do." Jame raised an eyebrow. "I heard someone say that in this reality Graelyn Scythes interned with Manuel Salazar." "Yeah , so?" Marissa gestured for her aide to pull up a holographic display. The Hologram showed a scan of Arch's interior, as well as that of a man who Graelyn had seen before, in the apartment she'd entered. While he didn't show exterior signs of looking like Arch, the interior made it obvious, you didn't have to be a scientist to see that the new parts had been built and installed in the same manner. "This man's name is Johnathan. Graelyn Scythes experimented on him, replacing parts of his body with enhanced mechanisms and biomodifications against his consent. The internal mechanisms appear to be of the same manufacture and design as the ones inside you, abet slightly more advanced. Now which seems more likely, that these nearly identical mechanisms were built by the same person, a person who needed your help to escape from revolutionary forces, or that this is just a co-incidence." "We're from an alternate reality, of course there are going to be similarities." "But how many co-incidences can there be? The surgeries performed on Johnathan were brutal and cruel. Many were performed without anesthetic, clearly the sign of an unstable and vicious person. His mouth was literally sewn shut at one point. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that this woman is not the same person?" Arch shifted his head towards her. "Yes." "Even when she has been in your head, even when you know very well she could have altered your memories?" "Yes." "No further questions." Jame rose up and walked to the witness box. They had planned on using Arch as a character witness, but with his reliability thrown into question, that was really out the window. Jame did their best, but there wasn't much to salvage from him, anything he said had the possibility of manipulation running under it. Jame sat down, and a note popped up on their tablet. Jame clicked it, and grunted. "Well then. Alternating witnesses. It looks like the Judicator is well aware this is a show trial. I wonder what its playing at." "I thought it was like, the ultimate Justice machine. It seems sort of wishy washy." "Its playing a game with us. It wants to know something, I'm sure of it. Still, we're going to have to open strong. I'm playing this by ear at this point. We have a few minutes first." As she ended her sentence, another message popped up. Jame rubbed their brow. "What is it?" Graelyn asked. "Its from your old intern. She says she chatted up one of the aides to Marissa in the canteen, and managed to get him to brag that they have a tape of Alice Macleod leading her troops through the Mexico City facility. From her description... It sounds bad." "...How bad?" "Bad enough that if they play it you won't walk out of this building alive even if you're declared innocent." Graelyn had lost her faith in systems at an early age. She knew that even if you were good, there was nothing that could protect you. She began to look for an escape route, but none seemed to present itself. The audience was filled with allies, the friends she had made here in her brief time in this universe. But protecting her might be their death sentence. "I don't want to hurt anyone." "Don't you know you can never achieve anything unless you're willing to cut out your own heart?" It occurred to Graelyn that she had never had this many people on her side simply because they liked her. She saw her own friendship as a service, and she kept her friends by providing them with ample benefits. Her best friend in elementary school, Claudine, had been appeased by many phone calls and chats where Graelyn had taken advantage of her ability to multi task and taken notes on important points in the conversation while doing her homework. She would formulate calculated replies based on the trajectory of the conversation and say them. Claudine had considered her a very good friend before she'd moved away to St. Petersberg. But if she looked up, she could see Lizette waving down at her. Shona in her Red Pop stained uniform. She could see Manuel, Sarah, Arch... Hell even Alice who she'd shot. All of them were willing to defend her. Why? She had only caused them problems. She hadn't any of them but Manuel any sort of tangible benefit, or if she had it was nothing anyone else couldn't have given them. Why? Suddenly, one of the eye-lights on the Juicator turned off, and turned on again... "Did it just wink at me?" She thought. Jame rose up, "Your honor, I call Alice MacLeod to the stand." There was a huge rumbling, not just in the court room, but across the world. People put down what they were doing, and friends texted each other to tell them to open up the feed. Alice walked to the stand, and sat down. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the true, by your gods?" "I do." Jame approached the box. "Now, Alice, explain your relationship to Graelyn Scythes." "Which one?" The rumbling grew up again, and the Judicator quieted it. "Explain your statement." "Well, as the record shows, I executed Graelyn Scythes. Her body was tested, and it was definitely her. The corpse showed no sign of memory transfer, or being a duplicate. There is footage of the execution available on the record if you wish to play it?" "Yes, I would." Jame replied. The footage played on the same Holoprojector that had previously shown Arch and Johnathan. It showed the whole chain of events, the revolutionaries bursting in, the Directors getting lined up and kicked out the windows with nooses around their necks... And a younger Graelyn running into the room confused. The confusion and horror on her face was monumental. "The second Graelyn we encountered clearly had no idea what was going on. At first I assumed she was a duplicate." "But you don't think that now?" "No, after several conversations with her, I have come to believe this second Graelyn is exactly what she says she is: a girl from another dimension." There was an uproar. If you want to imagine it, imagine you heard the person you respect the most going on an international broadcast, and declaring that ducks were actually aliens from Pluto. "She can't be serious." A man in Liverpool muttered. "She's lost it just like they said." A woman in Nairobi said. The Judicator even had trouble calming the court room down. "I know it sounds ridiculous-" "But its actually a totally reasonable suggestion." Said a new voice, loudly. Eyes turned around, and they focused on the back of the court room where two figures had appeared, both wearing hoodies with a pattern of a sun turning into a moon going down the hood and the spine. One wore shorts, the other a black blazer. One was a white man, the other a Latino woman. They were both wearing sunglasses, indoors. You couldn't escape the perception that they were really full of themelves right now. "Hello there," the man said, "Sorry to interrupt the proceedings but we have some pretty important new information we thought you guys should hear." "Security!" A memeber of the Revolutionary Council yelled, and the man just gave a lighthearted dismissive wave. "Aw shucks, we're not worth that much attention." "But we do need your attention." The woman added. "Oh yeah, definitely." "Also we've made sure your security isn't really an issue for us right now." They couldn't have all been there before, but they were there, so they must have been there the whole time, but there were dozens of people in identical hoodies (with otherwise totally inconsistant dress) scattered throughout the room. Guards found themselves with people peering down their neck, their hands not quite at their weapons. "Glad to see you made it." The Judicator said. "You knew about this?" The WRC member yelled, who appeared to be Alice's Uncle. "I didn't know about this, I guessed it." The Judicator said, "There was too much evidence of interuniversal interferance for there to not be some group involved in this. "Precisely!" The man said. "My name is Miranda Vice." "And I'm John Vice." "And we're here to demand the extradition of Graelyn Scythes and Archimedes VonAhnerabe into our custody." Ian Macleod approached the pair of them cautiously, edging past the other people in the row to the aisle. "Extradition to where exactly?" "Another dimension. Our headquarters." "Graelyn Scythes is on trial for crimes against Earth!" He yelled. "Crimes for which the primary charge is that she is in fact, not from an alternate dimension." The Judicator said. Ian grimaced. "I demand proof that you are who you say you are. We can't just believe you're really some... Preposterous group from another dimension. You're terrorists supporting Centro trying to dertail this trial." John sighed and looked at Miranda, who shrugged, and pulled out a black box with a red button that she pushed. Without delay, a swirling blue portal appeared in the center of the Aisle, and in its swirls you could see infinite possibiliites. You could see yourself, and friends you'd never had. You could see lost cats and holes you'd never get out of. There was everything thin those swirls. From that portal stepped a woman that Alice had seen before in a dream, a blonde woman with the side of her head shaved and the rest of her hair pulled to the other side. She was lean and muscular, tall and so flat chested it was easy to suspect she was wearing a binder. She was wearing the hoodie, but over it a distinctive brown jacket with a bold sun on the back. Behind her were a coterie of other coloful characters, a white woman in a poodle skirt and turtle neck with a katana on her back, a Potawatame man with powerful mechanical arms and a scar across his nose and under both his eyes, a pair of identical Mongolian twins who had glowing crystal slabs in their hands they seemed to be inspecting, a black man whose movements seemed too fast, as though he were on fastforward, and a very bored Indian woman who looked like she was just there cause the woman in the front had asked her to. The woman in the front advanced. Her eyes looked forward like lances. "I'm Kinan Jans. I'm the leader of Dawn, the organisation that these operatives are a part of. I demand an immediate stay of this trial and to meet with your World Revolutionary Council at the shortest possible notice." Ian's eyes were golf balls. "As a representitive of the WRC, I welcome you to Earth, Kinan Jans." Alice MacLeod said, vaulting over the box. "I think this trial is officially on hiatus." The Judicator said, smugly. It pounded it's gavel. Graelyn rose. Was this really happening. "Graelyn." Kinan said to her, "It is my intention to extradite you from this plane of reality immediately after negotiations are complete. I suggest you send someone to get your things." Graelyn nodded dumbly. Kinan and her troupe were led into another room, as the two Vice's made snapping finger pointing motions at Graelyn. This was ridiculous. They couldn't just end the trial could they? Her heart pounded. She'd expected to die. But the pieces began to fall into place. The box with the sun on it from the woman Alice had met. The people she'd seen with Hoodies. The man in the dark robe who'd tried to stop Director Aril from making the portal to begin with. This wasn't an isolated incident. This was part of something larger, wasn't it? They were going to a lot of effort to find her, they had sent people to her multiple times. This wasn't the end. This was just the start of something new. But how strange was it to leave her own fate to people in another room? For a moment she'd felt like a protagonist, like even if she died things were about her. But she hadn't been in control here at all, it was all out of her hands, and a peaceful sense of unimportance washed over her. She was small in the end after all. She could be forgotten at the bottom of the ocean again perhaps. She just had to get out of here. With a gesture, Alice called her and Arch into the room with the delegations. The WRC and the representatives from Dawn took a few hours to discuss her fate. "May I remind you," Kinan said, "That we provided you with the Alistair Artificial Intelligence that allowed this revolution to succeed. Let me guarantee you that failing to meet our terms would cause immediate hostilities from my organization. We built your revolution, we can just as easily burn it down." "We aren't partial to threats." Council leader Pauline Lamarque noted. "We aren't partial to people threatening to execute our friends." Kinan said. "You have met Graelyn before?" "Yes, but she hasn't met us. Its complicated, naturally." Kinan crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "You met me before?" Graelyn said. "I didn't, the Vice family did." Kinan replied, "But I suppose you'll do that all in time as long as we save your life." "I don't entirely understand," Arch broke in, "If you can travel between alternate realities... Why do you care about saving both of us at all?" Kinan bobbed her head back and forth lightly. "Good question. This wasn't the first reality you appeared in, correct?" "No, we traveled through several other ones first, briefly." "What about a reality where you walked through a room full of corpses on a space-station?" Graelyn nodded. "That was reality." "Excuse me?" Graelyn said. "Could I explain?" Miranda asked. Kinan nodded. "Look, there are tons of alternate realities, an infinite number, but travel between them was impossible. But not that long ago, something happened and it bound around ten-thousand realities to one other one. Or maybe we were all created in that moment, it doesn't matter. That central reality is feeding of us, and is slaving us to it in the process This little bubble of alternate realities is dying, and so is the reality that is feeding off of us. We need you to go back to that reality." Graelyn looked around at the representatives from Dawn. They all looked so serious. The World Revolutionary Council looked astounded. "Can you take Arch and I home?" "Yes. If you do what we ask of you." Kinan answered. "Go to... This alternate reality that is apparently not alternate and is in fact our parent or something and do what exactly?" "What we ask you to." "And why can't you go there yourselves?" Alice cut in. "Because," Kinan answered, "We can't get into that Prime Universe. We've been trying. We only have one agent in that universe, and we haven't been able to get her to interact with the universe outside of its present." The woman with the poodle skirt waved. It suddenly hit Graelyn that she had seen her on the deck of that spacestation as she'd fallen through the portal. "Oh." Graelyn said simply. "We are of course willing to trade some good to your government in exchange for their release to us." Lamarque pursed her lips. "I appreciate that. Though I'd appreciate it more if I thought we had any choice in the matter." "Your appreciation isn't necessary." Kinan answered. The Salazars had gotten all of Graleyn and Arch's few possessions together, as well as packed them a few travel supplies. Graelyn met them in the lobby of the courthouse, where a cadre of revolutionary guards were staring off a bunch of hoodied Dawn members. "I packed you a sandwich." Lizette told her. "I hope you like it." Graelyn smiled as she squatted down to hug her. "I'm sure I'll love it." Lizette squeezed her hard. "Keep practicing the piano. I hope to see you again soon." "Me to." Lizette said, and held the hug for a few more moments before letting go. Shona came forward next, "You guys take care of yourselves. Try not to get put in jail again." Arch and Graelyn chuckled, and hugged her to. "Try not to get hit by any more cups of soda." Manuel approached when they'd cut their embrace. "You two brought us all a new future here you know." "No, we didn't do anything that important." Graelyn said. "Of course we did, you were amazing." Arch said. "He's right you know. I'm alive because of you. Nojpeten is alive and vibrant, my children and grandchildren will live without the hate of seeing their grandfather hanging from a noose, and Sarah is with us now to. You're part of our family now to, whenever you're here." "What?" Graelyn said, looking around confused, "You can't really mean that." "Of course I mean that." "Thank you." Arch and Graelyn each said, and he shook their hands. Finally, Alice came up. "Hey." She said. "Hey. Graelyn replied, then after a pause, "I'm so sorry." Alice gave her a faint smile, and leaned in. Graelyn flinched for a moment, and Alice stopped. "Is it okay if I give you a hug to?" Graelyn nodded, and Alice wrapped her arms around her. "You didn't just save Manuel. You saved me." She whispered in her ear. "I shot you. I didn't save you at all." "Yes you did. You didn't mean to shoot me... You didn't, I know that. And I was about to kill someone for the wrong reasons. I might have crossed a line I couldn't go back from... Can you understand that?" "Yes." She whispered back. "You'll always be welcome here. Maybe public opinion will be a bit confused for a time, but you'll be welcome with me." "Have you taken good care of the cat?" "I have, and I will." "Good." They broke the embrace. "I..." Graelyn looked around at the people, all these people who believed in her, who wanted her here. She couldn't find the words. She didn't know what to say. They were smiling at her. "Thank you." She settled on that. "Sorry again about shooting you with a missile." Alice said to Arch. "Oh, no problem," he said. "I was fine." They laughed, and as they did, a stern looking Kinan walked towards them followed by the Vice family. "Its time to go. Are you ready?" Graelyn looked at Arch, and they nodded to each other. "We're ready." Arch said. "Then follow me." "Wait-" Alice said "I... I'd like to come to." Graelyn hadn't seen that coming. "Not this time." Kinan replied, "You're needed here whether you see it or not. Come Graelyn, Arch, you're free now. Its time for you to see wonders." Graelyn followed her out the doors of the courthouse, where revolutionary guards and Dawn members lined the road. A huge crowd swarmed around them. "How are we leaving?" Arch asked. Kinan looked back, and there was a sparkle in her eye as she gave a snap of her fingers, and a swirling blue portal seemed to rise out of dust on the ground. Graelyn didn't hesitate. She ran. She pulled the hair tie out of her hair and began to move. The wind moved through her hair, and blew it around. The crowd's mouth's moved, but she didn’t hear them. She was free. She was out of this. And she ran, the smile growing on her face, her legs like sunshine. There was something amazing on the other side of that portal, and her heart beat in her chest. She hadn't needed to flee. She hadn't needed to die. She hadn't needed to jump. She hadn't needed to fight. She needed to live. She needed to smile. The crowd's opinion was irreverent. They were her orchestra as her feet passed her through the blue swirls, followed quickly by the tramp of Arch's metal toes, and she stepped into a place where her heart beat might be hers alone, and the skies were not the color of sacrifices. She ran and ran, and for the first time, there wasn't a trace of fear. For the first time, she forgave herself for her own mistakes. And oh, did she run. "Run fast for your mother run fast for your father Run for your children for your sisters and brothers Leave all your love and your longing behind you Can't carry it with you if you want to survive The dog days are over The dog days are done Can't you hear the horses 'Cause here they come" -"The Dog Days are Over" by Florence and the Machine Next week: How is Alice doing now that she has her Universe to herself? Find out as Alice gets her own spin off story! Art by Annie Zhu, Story by James Wylder Author's note: 14 weeks of straight 10kd, its been pretty crazy. Its for that reason Annie and I are going to take a brief hiatus after Chapter 15. Er, more like Annie is because during that hiatus you're still going to get a 10kd bonus story every week featuring some of the other characters from the story! Right now the Hiatus schedule looks like this: Oct 22nd: Alice "Songbird" MacLeod Story Oct 29th: "Knights and Dragons" Story Oct 31st: 10,000 Dawns Halloween Special, art by Annie Zhu Nov 5th: The Adventures of Mister Sprinkles the Cat Sequel Nov 12th: Jame Morrel Story Nov 19th: (return to normal schedule) 10,000 Dawns Chapter 16 Wait whats that-- a Halloween special!?!? Yeah, so that's going to be a thing! Graelyn and Arch will return on Halloween with a stand alone story for you to enjoy. In many ways this Hiatus is actually exciting, as you'll get to see the universe through other character's eyes for a month. Still, next week is Chapter 15, and that's going to be a wild ride in itself! Happy Reading, -James Previous chapters are also available as an audio podcast from the Southgate Media Group. http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawnspodcast You can also subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html Chapter 14: I Dream of JudicatorThe Cat wouldn't stop meowing. Alice moaned and reached out to the cat, which was sitting next to her pillow on the bed. She patted it like it was an alarm clock she was mashing the snooze button on. The Cat, Captain Fudgesickle, didn't seem to take the remotest notice of having his head smooshed or booped, and just kept meowing. Cursing a bit under her breath, Alice got up, went over to the cat food bowl, poured out a bunch of food without measuring it, and shambled back to her bed where she collapsed. The crunching of the dry cat foo lulled her to sleep again.
Then she dreamed. She was standing on top of the Pyramid at Nojpeten, and Graelyn was throwing toy stuffed giraffes at her. "I'm sorry!" Graelyn said with every throw. The Giraffes splattered her with blood whenever they hit her, and she pulled out her own giraffe and threatened Graelyn with it. She looked down and saw the bullet holes across her chest, and looked up, to see Graelyn dropping the gun. "Oh." She heard herself say as she dropped to the ground. She could feel herself slipping away from the Earth. Alice was an Asatru, and worshiped Thor, his hammer hung around her neck, and as she bled out she had wondered if she'd go to Valhalla. She wondered it in the dream to, but this time, she saw the Valkyries coming down from a crack in the sky. But they weren't... Normal Valkyries. They had blue skin, no visible orifices, and their legs hung limply under their bodies as they floated down. Lightning seeming to zip between them. "You have done well, Alice MacLeod." She heard Thor say, and sat up to see him at a green felt table playing cards with Jesus, Horus, David Bowie, Artemis and Kali. Graelyn was now their waiter, serving them all drinks. "Just water." Said Jesus, and was served a sparkling clear glass of it that he then took a sip of wine from." "Mead for me!" Thor said, and was given a big mug. "I'll take what the big guy had." Said Bowie. "Wine." Said Horus, Artemis, and Kali together. "Right away!" Said waiter Graelyn, and jumped off the side of the building, only to reappear with the drinks. "What's going on?" Alice asked Thor. "Well, I'm about to win this hand." Said Thor. "He always says that." Kali added, revealing her cards and winning the hand. Thor laughed jovially as she did so. "Am I dead?" "No, not yet. But we're all here to give you a warning. Aha, this time I have it for sure!" Thor added, right before he lost the hand to Artemis. "What kind of warning?" Alice asked, she rose to her feet, and realized that the blue things she'd thought were Valkyries were all over the sky now. "They're warning you about me." She heard a woman say. Alice looked over, and she was not looking at the roof of the pyramid, but across a vast crystal road that seemed to be filled with sand sitting in an infinite blackness. She looked back, and was looking at the card table on the rooftop again. She got a headache even in her dream. She was looking away from Alice, wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled down with a pattern of a sun turning into a moon running down the spine, a pattern identical to the hoodies on the people standing in a V-formation extending away from her, with the hoods pulled up. The woman turned her head, she was blond, with her hair along one side of her head shaved off and the rest of her chin length hair combed to the other side. Alice didn't recognize her. "And you should be warned about me," she continued, "I'm the Architect of anyone's wildest dreams." She looked back at the Gods, who had set their cards down. They spoke to her in unison. "You've stepped into something you never imagined." She felt the woman's breath on her neck. "And Graelyn Scythes and Archimedes VonAhnerabe are ours." Alice woke up sweating, with a jolt. The cat came up to her, looking worried, and sat on her lap. She reached down and stroked it. It was just a dream after all, a weird one, but just a dream. Picking the cat up in her arms, she decided it was time to get up anyways. She put on a playlist, and listened to "Las Baricadas" as she made herself breakfast, and caught up on the news as she ate a fried egg on toast with orange juice. Things were surprisingly calm. A few weeks had passed, and Graelyn was loitering in prison with cushy visiting privileges. Archimedes was largely spending his time vising her, but otherwise was volunteering with helping rebuild in different communities. He was stronger than some moving machines, and had made the news for rescuing a child from a bomb collapsed building who had been presumed dead. His mask hid his expression from her, and from everyone, but he seemed genuine. It had taken a full week to fix the damage to him however, as his cyborg biology was intricate and complicated, so she supposed it must feel good to be out and about, even if it meant lifting large slabs of concrete. Alice however, kept having the nightmare. Graelyn's shocked face as she realized she'd fired the gun. The gun dropping out of her hands. The realization she'd been shot. She didn't blame Graelyn for what had happened, but Alice had had some trouble leaving the apartment recently. Even though it could be a little snot, she was grateful for the cat living with her, as she always found it calming to stroke, and it seemed to respond to her when she needed it. Getting up from the breakfast table, she looked at the door, and went to sit back down. Her chest still hadn't fully healed, probably because she wasn't resting enough, and as she ran her fingers through her hair, she leaned forward and felt an ache run through her. She didn't moan, didn't scrunch her face up, just took the pain and accepted it in her world. The doorbell rang. She ignored it. It rang again. "Alice its Jack." She got up, slowly, and opened the door up. Jack looked tired. "Hey Jack, come on in." She gestured to the table. "Want some tea?" "Yeah, sure." She filled the kettle up, and flicked the switch on it. It heated the water in seconds, which she poured into two cups with tea bags in them, and handed one to Jack. "Thanks." He said, setting the hot cup down. "We've got a pretty big problem." Jack started. "When don't we?" "Graelyn's trial is getting fast tracked, obviously, but its complicated." Alice sighed, "How much more complicated could it get? It was already complicated." "No Judge who will accept the case is considered unbiased enough. If we chose a Centro Judge, this will be seen as a choice to let her off the hook. There will be riots. If we chose a Judge from the Revolution, it will be seen as a show trial, and there will be riots. Mars has offered to let us use one of their Judges, but there are enough people from the revolution and ex-Centro forces who don't trust the Martian Communists that this could become a wedge issue for them and allow them to form a coalition using anti-outsider sentiment. There really is no good choice here." Alice looked up at the ceiling. This was so needlessly complicated. No wonder the council had wanted to kill all the Centro Directors and get it done with. "Why were we able to get away with pardoning Manuel then?" "Because he saved your life, and already had a populist following. Pardoning him looked good to nearly everyone, with those against it such a small minority most of them have publicly agreed with it anyways just to save face. Graelyn admits to shooting the hero of the revolution, that Manuel saved. She's in hot water." Alice had tried so hard to not have charges pressed, but it wasn't her call. Her father's brother Ivan, in the end, had been the one who had come out the strongest in favor of trial (though he'd started at execution). He'd played at being this about his niece being shot, but she knew very well it didn't actually have much if anything to do with that. Alice slammed her head down onto the table and let out a soft moan. "Er, are you okay." "I'm having the best day of my entire life, clearly." "Did you sleep last night?" She rolled her forehead back and forth on the table to shake her head no. "I'm still having the Nightmares. I have another therapy session today, so you don't need to worry about it." Jack nodded. He didn't look like his concern had ebbed. "Tonight's was different though... Jack, do you remember how I told you I got Alastair, the AI box we used to take down Centro's defenses?" "The weird Miranda lady, yeah." "Who in the Raggedy-Ann solar system did she work for?" She asked into the table. "I don't know." Jack admitted. "I don't either." Alice replied, "But I have a dream of who it could be." Jack didn't know what to say to that. "You're scheduled to see Johnathan today." Alice lifted her eyes up from the table, and she wondered again if forgiving Graelyn was the right choice. Johnathan sat on the park bench, and threw seeds to the birds. His nurse watched him closely. He did every action intently, and the seed throws were done with a precision that seemed not so much practiced as horrendous, like watching a badly made anamatronic try to imitate a person. His lips had been unsewn, but he was still nonverbal. The modifications to his body had been so intense, figuring out how much of his body had been replaced would be more invasive than it would be useful. "Johnathan, you're going to have a visitor today. Do you remember Alice?" He nodded. "She's coming to see you. Isn't that exciting?" He threw some more seeds to the birds. Three seeds landed in front of each bird, in a perfectly triangular shape. The previous throw had been five seeds forming the corners of a pentagon. The Nurse knew it had to be intentional. Down the path she saw Alice coming towards them, she wasn't wearing military clothes today, just jeans and a tshirt with a loose jacket over it. A Thor's hammer hung from her neck. "Here she comes!" Johnathan looked over at her. She didn't accelerate, just kept the same pace till she reached him. "Hey Johnathan. Are you doing well?" He nodded. "Can you speak at all yet?" He shook his head. "Sorry to ask then." He shrugged. She sat down on the other side of him on the bench. "I'm not here to see how you're doing today, to be honest. I figured I'd be upfront about that." He made a few signs with his hands. Alice looked up at the Nurse. "He said: I'm glad you're not leading me on. I like that you're straight to the point." "I didn't know you could sign Johnathan!" He signed back. "He says: I didn't know I could either. I think it was installed in me." Alice frowned. "You mean, like software?" He nodded. The idea of a person having having things installed in their brain against their will like they were a machine was... Abominable. "I'm glad that I know how to do this though, because it let me talk." The Nurse interpreted. "I can image you would be. Johnathan, do you remember the woman who came into Graelyn's apartment about a month ago when we rescued you." He nodded. "It was the one who looked like Graelyn Scythes." Alice tilted her head to the side. Her hair leaned with her. "Why do you say 'looked like'?" "Because..." He stopped signing, and seemed to focus very hard, Alice looked over at the Nurse, who put a hand on Johnathan's shoulder. He was trembling. "Johnathan? Is this too much today?" He shook his head. After a moment, he resumed signing. "Graelyn Scythes had a chip installed in me so she could control me remotely." The Nurse looked aghast when she said it. Alice looked like this was not particularly surprising. "I'm sorry." "Its not your fault. This girl looked like Graelyn, but she was too young, and her hair was wrong. She didn't connect to my chip when she was near me." "You can sense that?" He nodded. "Instantly." Alice looked out at the park. Someone was throwing a Frisbee at their dog, who eargly caught it, then dropped it to go smell something. "The WRC wants you to testify at the trial. Specifically, they want you to testify for the prosecution. "I'm not their pawn." "I know. You're no one's pawn." He threw another handful of seeds at the birds, which landed in front of each bird in a perfect square. "Why did all of this happen?" The Nurse sounded sad as she said it, and not just in trying to imitate his tone. "I wish I knew Johnathan." She held out a hand to him, and he grasped it tightly. "I wish I knew..." * * * * Songbird escorted the lawyer through the prison, who was doing something on their tablet during the entire journey through the hallways. They didn't speak to each other. After all, technically Alice would probably be asked to be a witness for the prosecution, a role she'd be terrible at. She was wondering if she'd even get called up at this point. She opened the door to the room Graelyn would be meeting her lawyer, and opened the door. "Graelyn, your lawyer is here. Good luck." "Thanks, Alice." Graelyn said, with a faint smile. The lawyer looked between them weirdly, and walked in, with the door shutting behind them. The Lawyer wore a plain blue suit that was tightly fitted, with a purple striped tie that somehow matched it. They had stud earrings, and a black hair put up in tiny spikes. Their nails were purple and blue as well, and there were a pair of peircings on their lower lip. "Hi, I'm Jame Morrel." They held out a hand, and she shook it, "I'll be representing you." "How familiar are you with my case?" Graelyn asked. "I've read all of your logged interviews, as well as all of those related to the case, and already read all of the relevant documents." Jame answered, and looke Graelyn right in the eyes. "What we say in here is totally confidential. You aren't being recorded, and if you are we get a free retrial anyways." Jame continued, "So if you have lied about anything you need to tell me right now." "I have not lied." She replied. "So, you honestly believe you are from an alternate reality?" "I don't just believe that, I am from one." "I hope you understand that that defense isn't going to fly in court. No one is going to believe that outside of a few outside elements. Our best defense is you're a replicant or clone." "That's not the truth though." Jame sighed. "What's going to get you off though? Being from an alternate reality sounds like a very bad cover story. Being a clone that thinks its from an alternate reality is the kind of thing that moves a jury." Graelyn nodded, "We know its a jury trial then?" "No, we don't. They haven't decided nearly anything yet. Frankly its a mess. The WRC is in such a tizzy to prevent a crisis with this trial they're going to make one simply by virtue of inaction." Jame began looking through something on their tablet. "Jame, why did you decide to be my lawyer?" Jame finished scrolling, and turned the tablet to face her. "I haven't yet." On the screen was a picture of Graelyn, next to a picture of older Graelyn. "Did you know I'd met this other Graelyn Scythes?" "I did not." "She was an intolerable know it all, full of herself, and extremely condescending." "I'm at least not one of those things." "She never would have said that. I'm taking your case, and I'm taking it because everyone deserves to be treated fairly, even if they're a scheming puddle of rat pee." Graelyn puffed her cheeks out, and decided not to reply to that. "I noticed you and Songbird seem almost congenial." Graelyn looked uncomfortable. "Shooting her didn't help that. Hence the almost." "You do realize that she had sworn publicly she'd personally execute Graelyn Scythes no less than 27 times?" Graelyn shook her head, "No I didn't." "Her hesitancy is our best case for you. The court will try to claim she is mentally unfit to make judgments right now, of course." "Of course." "And whatever happened in Mexico City is being kept a secret still, but they'll undoubtedly use it in the trial. Know what it is?" She shook her head, "No idea. Isn't that illegal though, to not submit evidence for you to see?" This time it was Jame's turn to shake their head. "Not in this trial. They haven't written a full legal code the WRC can agree on yet, and so they're getting away with playing fast and loose with some of the rules at the moment. The WRC isn't all communist, they're an amalgamation of Commies, socialists, anarchists, and a small number of democratic republicans who just want a return to non-corporate government but are still capitalists. They're scheduled to work out a new constitution in Oslo in two months, and let me tell you, I'm buying a ticket there just to watch the verbal fireworks." Graelyn stretched her hands out in front of her. "Who did you support in this war anyways? You don't seem like, well, the people I've met from either side. "The Revolution of course." Jame replied. "I like having civil rights, for some strange reason, but I'm also a pragmatist. I'm not going to idealize the mess that is the WRC. They weren't ready to win this war so fast, and they're still scrambling." Graelyn smiled, she liked this person. "Thank you for agreeing to see me." "Don't thank me. Thank Songbird. She's the one who called me." Graelyn's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious." "I'm the best you can get. I'm glad you shot someone who likes you." * * * * Alice slipped back under her covers. The cat curled up on top of her. They were finally starting to get along. The nightmares had drawn them closer together, and as much as she wished she'd never gotten them, she was grateful they'd at least done that. She drifted off into dreams again, as she had the night before. She was standing in a desert, that was new, and there was a storm encroaching behind her. She began trying to outrun it... But the sand started falling away from underneath her, the ground falling away into infinity. She saw that some of it was holding firm, so she scrambled hard for it, and reached it just as the wind blew the rest of the landscape away. She shielded her eyes, and when she uncovered them, she was on the same crystal path she had seen the previous night, filled with sand. The world around her was dark, aside from a shining orb that looked like a moon... Or was it a sun? "You're here again. Good. I wasn't sure if you would be." Alice looked behind her. There was that woman again. She was still facing away from her. This time she only had a pair of other people in hoodies with her, one on either side of her, a step back and facing away. One had on a black sport-coat over the hoodie, the other wore shorts. The woman was wearing a long brown coat over her hoodie this time, with the sun/moon symbol emblazoned on the back. "Who are you?" She tried to stand up, but it felt like her shins were glued to the path. "If this is just a dream, and isn't real, why does it matter?" She replied. Alice looked around, it looked awful real. "Is this a dream?" "Of course its a dream. But we're dealing with concepts outside of humans. Humans aren't supposed to travel between other realities, correct? We aren't supposed to do lots of things, so lets just say that when you've broken one so-called rule, there are ways to break others. This is the last time you'll see us in your dreams however. You should have known the bargain we made had more strings than it seemed on the surface." "I don't want Graelyn to die. I truly don't. I've been trying to help her." "That's funny, but I believe you nonetheless." She turned her head so Graelyn could see one of her ferocious blue eyes. "You and Manuel Salazar were supposed to die, but you both lived. You changed the game." "You changed it by giving me that box." "True. But I've done this before. You're only one reality." "There really are multiple realities? Graelyn isn't... Brainwashed?" "Of course there are. Don't be silly. You're not the first Alice MacLeod I've dealt with, and you won't be the last. Keep Graelyn safe. I'll do the rest." "Why do you need Graelyn so badly then? Can't you just... Get another one?" She narrowed her visible eye at Alice. "No. But that's enough of that. Dawn is coming, you might want to wake up." Alice's eye's opened with a snap, the sun was shining softly through the window. * * * * Alice winced through her teeth, the bandages would probably have to be changed again soon, and it would only sting worse then, but she was alive and that was what was important. Graelyn Scythes was another matter. “We have a problem.” Alice began, “We need the trial of Graelyn Scythes or her double to begin soon, but we haven't settled on a new legal code. If we give her a military trial through the Revolutionary Army, we'll likely lose the support of the population of the planet who were Centro supporters we've managed to quell, and we'll have another set of uprisings on our hands. However, if we try her under a Centro judge, we'll lose the support of several groups internally, and likely have to fend off a coup. This is difficult, and I need your feedback. The group around her she could trust, these were people she'd fought beside for years. Jack, Chantelle, Eve, Roxanne, Trevon, Yi, Gerald... The group sat around the table silently at first, a few of them gave support for siding with one idea or another, but neither side could make any particularly strong arguments either way. “I have a suggestion.” Chantelle said after some time. All eyes turned to her. “Its uh, kind of unusual though.” “Please, we need unusual.” Chantelle squirmed in her seat. “My dad told me a story once, of something Heirum J. Whitehead build before Centro shut him down and he fled to Mars... An automaton that could make legal decisions with total impartiality.” “We've all heard of it,” Trevon cut in, “but its just a myth.” Chantelle shook her head. “Its not a myth. My dad used to break into old buildings to see if there was anything he could scrap or sell for more food for the family. Centro didn't care if the place was considered not worth salvaging, so he was never in danger of losing his real job. One night Dad decided to break into the old Talinata Softworks building. He didn't find much he could break into, the place was clearly larger than the inside looked, but it was sealed up pretty tight. He did find what he said was a hidden door.... And under it a robot. Covered in cobwebs, He started walking towards it... And then the lights of its eyes turned on and it raised its head!” Yi gasped, but Jack looked decidedly unimpressed. “Naturally he ran out of the building as fast as he could.” “Nice ghost story, but we need more than that.” Jack said. “Now now Jack, there is nothing we lose by checking it out. Since we don't have any other leads, I'd say its time to go to Talinata Softworks. Where is it located?” “The former province of New Jersey.” Alice squinted at her, “I've never heard of New Jersey. Is it like New York?” Chantelle shook her head, “I don't think you want me to take the time to explain New Jersey.” * * * * The VTOL landed in front of the abandoned headquarters of Talkinata Softworks, the sign labeling the building as suck had fallen about half a foot from its mooring on one side, and swung gently in the breeze. "This is the place." Chantelle noted. Alice gestured for the the troops to hop out and using hand signals gave instant orders about their positions and team roles. Alice took point, and rifle in hand, approached the front door where Trevon was already working the systems. The doors snapped open, and she smiled at him to indicate his good work. She stepped through the door. "H-h-h-hello visitors and welcome to T-t-t-Talinata softworks! I'm WeN-D, and I'll be your guide today won't that be fun?" "Uh, is this normal commander?" Yi asked. Alice shrugged, she really didn't know. "Hello, WeN-D, I'm Alice. We're looking for the Judicator." She looked up at the ceiling as though the ceiling was somehow the disembodied voice of WeN-D's face. "Oh gosh, I'm so glad you asked, no one ever asks usually they just ignore me and try to break things!" "Well, can you help us find the Judicator then?" "Oh gosh! I can't actually, if it exists, it would be classified and I can't tell you about classified things." Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "WeN-D," he began,"Its the year 2495, correct? from the current year, wouldn't you assume that everyone who gave you your orders is currently dead? There was a pause. "That's no reason to break the rules!" "Oh, Thor's thundering hammer." Alice cursed, and made a gesture to begin a search sweep. "Oh, you're just going to look around then. I see how it is." Alice rolled her eyes at the AI. After a few minutes of searching, Chantelle called them over to a place where there was a thin line on the floor. "This is where my dad said it was." Alice nodded, and looked to Trevon, who got to work. Trevon was a man of few words, but he was damn good at what he did. He silently scanned the floor, felt around it, mapped out where its points were, and then applied careful pressure to different areas, which was immediately followed by a rectangle on the floor rising up a few centimeters to reveal a handhold on its side, which Alice and Trevon pulled up together, revealing a stairwell. "Jack, take point. Lets find out whats down there." Jack nodded, and turning the light on his rifle on, began walking down. It was dark and cobwebby, so he took the brunt of clearing a path. When he reached the bottom, he called back "well there's something down here. They rushed down to follow him. Jack's light shone on a humanoid droid of minimalist design sitting on a chair that more resembled a throne. A plaque behind it stated: "The Judicator: Permanently deactivated for being too good at its job." "Well, no one was bitter about this guy getting turned off." Yi quipped. Alice breathed in the dusty air, and walked close to it. Did it still work? "Hello, Judicator? Can you hear me? We need you for a trial." For a moment, there was silence, and the dust floated gently through the beams of light. Then, its hand twitched. The Judicator rose, its pistons falling into place, and the glowing blue rectangles it had for eyes taking the world into focus. The Judicator only needed one look to understand the nature of the people who were approaching it, because the Judicator was made to understand these things. It went over to a rack on the wall, its legs making a squeaking screechy sound, and pulled off a robe it slipped into like clockwork. The Judicator wore a robe made of 100% double-ply Cashmere wool dyed a black so dark you might think it turned the lights off if you stared at it too long. The Judicator turned back to them like it owned the room, and hell maybe it did. You might have judges who had read the law of your country, but the Judicator had read the law of every country in history. You might have judges who form a decision based on weeks of testimony and careful work through of the information through their synapses, but the Judicator had ten trillion microprocessors that each made the machines that sent humans to the moon look like a 1991 textbook that hadn't realized the USSR had fallen. The Judicator had two eyes, but it only needed one because with double layer infrared scanning and the ability to see more colors than a Mantis Shrimp let alone a human it was already outpacing you even if its depth perception wasn't so keen it could eyeball a distance with more precision than you measure your bank account. The Judicator didn't have time for your petty disagreements, it's already figured out who is objectively right and wrong. The Judicator won't put up with your legal loopholes, it will crack you open with an understanding of the legal code so thick you could pour it like concrete to make your new jail cell. The Judicator cared about justice. You couldn't bribe it at parties, or make it take out a vendetta or prejudice on someone: it would spit your inequalities back at you like a hurricane. The Judicator was the last and final say on the law, and you'd damn well respect him or God help your soul whether you passed the bar or not. “I represent the Revolutionary Government of Earth.” Alice said. The Judicator held up a finger. Its eyes blinked for a few seconds. Alice guessed he had found the wifi. “I see. A lots happen since I got turned off.” It dusted itself off like a few hundred years of dust was no big deal. “A lot has changed since you've been turned off.” “Justice is never turned off.” The Judicator said. “Well then, we have a case for you to try. Someone we don't think we can try fairly.” “Then I'm your droid. Just give me some WD-40 and the complete case documents.” “Excuse me,” Jack cut in, “are you sure you are ready for this? You've only just been reactivated.” “I know what I'm about, son.” The Judicator. Swirled its robe as it headed for the door, making the rest of the group hustle to keep up with it. The case was on. Next week: The Trial of Graelyn Scythes. Will Graelyn be freed? What will the Judicator do? Find out as this story arc hits a conclusion! Art by Annie Zhu, Story by James Wylder Previous chapters are also available as an audio podcast from the Southgate Media Group. http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawnspodcast You can also subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html Chapter 13: An Aftermath of CoverageVideo Transcript: News cast, July 1st 2495
World Revolutionary Council Headquarters, Oslo Norway Image: We see several figures standing in front of a large backdrop with the WRC logo on it. Most of these people are members of the Council itself, an international body of the most important people throughout the world's revolution. We recognize some of these people: Alice MacLeod is there, clearly still recovering from her injuries, one of her arms in a sling, and a stiffness around her belly that one could assume comes from many bandages. Maria Salazar is also there on stage, and when the camera cut to the crowd for reaction shots we can catch other familiar faces: Jack, Chantelle, Shona, Trevon, Yi... The surprise on the stage is Manuel Salazar, who was formerly under a kill or capture order. A mixed race woman we haven't been introduced to before, the leader of the WRC, Pauline Lamarque, steps forward to much applause. Pauline: Thank you. (She gestures for the crowd to stop applauding. It continues.) Thank you very much. (The crowd dies down slowly, and then finally drops off.) When this revolution began, we were prepared for a long fight. A war that would tear this planet apart at the seams. However, thanks to intelligence gained by Alice MacLeod, also known as the Songbird of Liberation, we were able to win this fight in not years, but in mere months. Such a quick turnover of the world is unprecedented in our history, and today we mark the official end of the conflict. (There is a pause as more applause erupts, as well as a chant of "Songbird! Songbird!") While the eradication of the leadership of Centro Systems was originally considered a certainty by us, the story of our world is malleable. Manuel Salazar has proved completely co-operative in assisting the medical needs of the world since turning himself over to the WRC, not to mention personally saved the life of Alice MacLeod after an attempted assassination. Alice: That's n- (The crowd erupts in applause, drowning her out.) Pauline: And so, from a grateful Earth, we present Manuel Salazar with an official pardon, as well as a position in the WRC to help shape our new socialized medical system. (More applause, Manuel comes to the Microphone.) Manuel: Thank you, thank you. I'll keep this short: our struggle is over. For those of you who loved the old world, do not clutch to it. Instead rejoice in the chance to build a new future. It may not be the one you expected, but it is the one you will live in. I pledge to create a new, free, medical system that will care for everyone on Earth, while continuing to push innovating medical technology. Thank you. (He waves and steps away from the Microphone. There is more applause. The people on the stage wave. Let’s change the channel.) Image: A man stands in front of an image of what looks like a factory, he is dressed nicely, and looks out of place in the industrial wasteland. He has a pin that labels him as part of a news agency. Reporter: Hello, I'm Antwon Phillipe, here in Mexico City where the World Revolutionary Council is still refusing to say exactly what they have discovered inside this building. Earlier today, I managed to talk to some of the workers who are going through the facility Image: We see four people sitting on the curb, all of them look disheveled. Each is wearing a hazmat suit, though their helmets have all been removed. One of them is crying, one is vaping. Reporter (offscreen): Excuse me, Antwon Phillipe, Populi News. Could you tell us what the WRC is investigating in there. (two of the people just keep staring off into the distance, oblivious. The reporter repeats the question) Man: I... I can't talk about that. Woman: Go away please. Reporter: The people of Earth want to know what the WRC found. Man: Look its... Look you'll know eventually, we have to catalog this. Woman: You want a quote or something? I'll give you a quote: Graelyn Scythes is a bastard. (Enough of that. What else is on?) Image: We see a different reporter, this one a non-binary person. They are with Pauline Lamarque. We appear to have caught them in the middle of something. Pauline: ...is difficult. After all the creation of a new government isn't a smooth process, especially on this scale. It’s certainly good to have Martian co-operation, but I can't say dealing with the Rim Crimelords has been any easier. If anything, they seem to want to exploit this situation more than anything. Reporter: So you've talked with Premier Mashima? Pauline: Oh, many times. I think our two worlds will finally be friends again. Reporter: Now, on a different note, I'm sure you've heard the public outcry for the death of Graelyn Scythes. Pauline: Of course. Reporter: Can you confirm that she will be executed? Pauline: She will be granted a fair trial, like anyone else. This case is more complicated than most people know. Reporter: Could you explain that? Pauline: I'm afraid not. There is a lot about this that is confidential. I'm sure you have heard Alice MacLeod's opinion on the matter. Reporter: Many analysts say we can't trust her judgment, that she is suffering from survivor's guilt or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Pauline: I'm not going to put words in her mouth. She seems of sound mind to me, and she has said what she said. Reporter: But- (Wait, what did she say? Let’s scroll through the feed... No that video is just spam... Ah, there we go, lets pull this one up.) Image: Alice MacLeod is inside an old tavern, she appears to be swigging from a big mug of mead with her good hand. We hear, but to not see, a third reporter, this one a woman. Her voice sounds nervous, as though she is rather new at the job, or maybe just slightly star struck. Reporter: Thank you for taking the time to talk to me Miss MacLeod. Alice: Its my pleasure. Reporter: I've heard from people close to you that you didn't expect to survive the revolution. How does it feel to have come out the other side? Alice: To be honest, it’s confusing. I've been preparing my whole life for the liberation of Earth, and now that its done... I don't know I'm sorry that doesn't really answer your question. Reporter: That's fine, totally fine. Do you know what you'll be doing now? Alice: Taking a break, first of all. I have some wounds to heal from and my friends have persuaded me it would be for everyone's best if I took time to recuperate. I actually tried to go back to work early, and passed out in the Council's planning room. (She laughs) I just can't stop can I? Anyways, I'm taking a lot of walks, seeing more of my parents then I've seen in years, and taking care of my cat. Reporter: You have a cat? Alice: Yes, it was given to me by a friend. I always hated cats, but I find this one rather personable. I wouldn't say it likes me, but we have a mutual understanding. (The reporter and Alice both laugh) Reporter: That's cats for you! Alice: Did you have any more questions Minh-Ho? Reporter: Yes, you've been visiting a prison where high level prisoners are being kept quite frequently as of late. Alice: I'm afraid I can't comment on that. Reporter: Have you been visiting the woman who attempted to assassinate you, Graelyn Scythes? Alice: I'll have you know that my injuries were accidental. Reporter: Excuse me, but you were shot multiple times, that doesn't sound accidental. Alice: It was. It was an accidental weapon discharge. Graelyn is innocent, and I'm trying to get the WRC to remove the charges against her. Reporter: What? You can't be serious. Alice: I'm utterly serious. Reporter: The people of Earth want justice. Alice: I gave them justice. I executed Graelyn Scythes personally. Reporter: Then why is she alive? Alice: Its not the same person. Minh-Ho, we have a chance to build a better Earth, and I will fight the execution of an innocent girl- Reporter: Woman. Alice: She's seventeen years old. Reporter: That's not what the records state. Alice: Girl. I will fight the execution of an innocent girl till the sun burns redder than I can assume my face is getting. (Its pretty darn red. Alice gets up, and pays for her drink.) Alice: I'm sorry, the interview is over. (Well that sure was something. But enough of the news. We can cut anywhere into this universe, we're watching outside it like a sun watching its planet's rotate. So lets look through someone's eyes.) Image: We see Graelyn Scythes, in prison garb again in a drab concrete room that is clearly a prison, sitting on a Piano bench. Next to her sits Lizette in a dress patterned with strawberries, and they are playing chopsticks. Graelyn takes her hands off the piano keys, as Lizette continues. Graelyn: You're doing well. Lizette: I can only do it when you do it. Graelyn: You're objectively incorrect. (Lizette looks over, and squeals as she realizes that she is actually playing the Piano all by herself. She plays the song in a few more loops and then stops, basically bouncing out of her seat on the piano bench.) Lizette: Now you play something! Graelyn: Oh, um. What do you want me to play? Arch, offscreen: Play one of your favorites! (Oh! We're watching from Arch's eyes. They are cameras after all. Its funny to be here, you'd think he'd be blinking but it never happens.) Lizette: And sing it to! (Graelyn looks back at Arch warily.) Graelyn: You know, I haven't practiced piano in years, I'm pretty rusty. Are you recording this? Arch: I record everything I see, its in my hardware. Graelyn: Right. Well, here goes. (Graelyn begins to play something, but then realized she is doing it wrong and starts over. It takes her a second to figure it out.) Graelyn: This is one of my favorite songs. Its called "God Bless the Girl." by David Bowie. Lizette: Are you the girl? Graelyn: Sure. I can be the girl. (She begins to play it and sing along. She isn't the greatest singer, but she does a decent job.) Graelyn: Jackie loves her work, and her work is love- Lizette: No, say your own name! You're the girl! Graelyn: Okay okay. I'm the girl. But you have to help me sing the chorus if I'm going to be the girl. So when I say God Bless the girl, you say it back with me. Lizette: Okay! Arch: This is too cute. Graelyn: What? Arch: Nothing! (Graelyn begins playing again.) Graelyn: Graelyn loves her work, and her work is love, for there is no other. She says "God has given me a job!" Graelyn loves her work, there is no other. Graelyn's aiming for the stars, but landing on the clouds. There is no other. Sitting in her corner too afraid to run away, like a slave without chains. Wonder turns to danger, spring turns to winter-- God bless the girl! Now you. Lizette: God Bless the girl! Graelyn: But I will always treasure, treasure every single moment... Graelyn and Lizette: God bless the girl! Graelyn: Fire turns to water, light becomes darkness Graelyn, Lizette, and unexpectedly, Arch: God Bless the girl! Graelyn, now looking at Arch: And I don't want to hurt you, just wanna have some fun.... All together: God bless the girl, god bless the girl! (Graelyn smiles broadly back at Arch, and proceeds into the instrumental middle of the song. They sing the rest of the song, so you can look it up if you're curious. But you get the point. It looks like this is a regular meet up for them all. Lets cut forward a bit then, Arch's eyes have to see a lot of things.) Image: Alice and Graelyn are sitting at a table together, there is no partition between them, but you can see a pair of armed guards occasionally when Arch moves his head a certain way. Alice: They aren't calling the trial off. I've tried my best, but the hardliners on the council are dead set on it. They're still bitter Pauline sided with me about pardoning Manuel. If we don't let the trial go forward, the Council will fracture and we'll likely have a civil war. Graelyn: There is no question then, I'll be going to trial willingly. Arch: You realize they'll kill you. You can't let this go forward. Graelyn: I never wanted anyone to get hurt Arch. I... (Graelyn cuts herself off, and crosses her arms.) Arch: I could get her off-world, I know some places in the rim that have to still exist in this universe we could hole up in. Alice: I have no doubts you could. But what would happen if she broke out? The new government would prove itself entirely unable to manage its own security. Just because we won the revolution doesn't mean the job is over... Really the hard stuff is just starting. Ugh. Politics. I never wanted to deal with them. Graelyn: I'm staying arch. Arch: I understand. I don't like it though. Graelyn: I know. Alice: I have no idea how we'll be able to find you a fair judge or jury though, it’s going to be nearly impossible. Graelyn: I'm sure you'll come up with something. Arch: So a "fair' trial is unlikely. Alice: (she silently looks at Arch for a few moments.) Yeah. (But let’s wrap up the world then? Two more feeds. Back to the news:) Image: Crowds of people are cheering in the streets. It’s unclear what city. We cut, and see another city, and another, and another, and another... WRC members stand on balconies and wave. The world is at peace. A new world. The cameras show a piece of street art: an image of the dead faces of the Centro Directors composited next to each other. It’s gruesome, but this is a time for bloody things. Each of the faces has an X over it, but the last face is Graelyn's corpse, and next to it, a picture of a younger Graelyn being led into a prison. The caption? "We won't be fooled again." (Now let’s end our tour of the media with something no one saw. But we can see it, like I said, our arms stretch everywhere, light shining into the deepest shadows. The footage is grainy, maybe no one knows this camera is here. It’s just our secret. So here we are, deep in the belly of the Index's secret base, where Chess Mistress Hex stands in front of a holotable. It has a grid pattern on it, with every square alternating between black and white. Nearby, eerily similar in appearance but cheerier is Alexis. Hex looks furious. It’s strange to see her furious, like her face is unfamiliar with pulling off the expression.) Hex: What do you mean no one died? Alexis: I mean, Mistress Hex, that the Songbird, Salazar, Salazar, Scythes, Sarah, and the Cyborg all survived their showdown in Nojpeten. Hex: And why, praytell, haven't any of them died since then? Alexis: The members of the council we have been bribing have expressed doubt you can truly manage the situation anymore. Salazar has been pardoned, and the WRC has agreed to grant Sarah amnesty on Earth since she can't return to the rim. (Hex swipes an expensive looking teacup off the edge of the holotable. It breaks with a tiny crash and even Alexis flinches, her smile faltering.) Alexis: And Graelyn Scythes is going to trial for shooting Alice MacLeod however, our sources can confirm that. (Hex considers this, and her face returns to its usual passive but predatory smile.) Hex: Good. Put a large bounty on Sarah, the kind that would make it worth the very best in the system's time. First class retirement money. That will at least tie that up. Alexis: It shall be done Mistress Hex! Hex: There’s still a way to salvage this situation, I’m just not seeing it. What have I missed? (Hex begins to rub her temples. Alexis busies herself by getting her mistress a fresh cup of tea, setting a cleaning droid on the shattered mess on the floor. Hex’s eyes snap open.) Hex: Graelyn said she came here from another reality. Alexis: Yes she did, Mistress. Hex: What if she wasn't the only person who has? If she could do it nearly on accident, it’s possible – no, probable – that someone else has been coming through. I planned everything out Alexis, the board was set... But what if someone slipped more pieces into the game? (Alexis flashes an unsettlingly toothy grin.) Alexis: That’s cheating. And we don’t take kindly to cheaters. Hex: No... (She pulls up some images, and begins combing through them. She pulls up an image of a box with a sun and moon symbol on it.) This is an image one of our operatives got of the mobile AI that the revolution used to take down Centro's defenses. An AI I had never heard of before, with a logo and color scheme that the revolution doesn't use at all. Now why would that be, Alexis? (Alexis shrugs, smiling as though she is very pleased she doesn't know.) Hex: I thought I was whispering in the ears of both players... But someone else was rigging the game while I was maneuvering. It’s a shell game. (She does a search for more images of the sun/moon symbol. Several things come up, including a pin bought by a researcher in Guatemala centuries ago that seems to show construction techniques not possible during the period it dates from. There are also a few blurry pictures of a pair of figures: one in shorts and a hoodie, the other in a hoodie under a sport coat, their faces hidden in every shot. Hex stops skimming through the images, and appears to have a revelation. She looks around the room, turning slowly. Her eyes settle on the camera, on us. She begins to gently laugh. The laugh grows louder.) Alexis: Was there a joke Mistress? Hex: Brava, whoever you are. Good game. Well played. (Hex gets up and walks towards the camera, staring straight into it. We know each other now.) Hex: I look forward to the next round. (We cut the feed. The image goes black. However long you linger on the image is up to you. It doesn't move, it simply stays black. No, wait. You wait, and for a moment, you feel like you see something writhe in the darkness.) Next week on 10kd: Alice and Graelyn get ready for the trial, while the outsiders get ready to... Author's note: Here it is! The big show down! I hope you're excited for it. Oh, and the audio version of the story is a week behind. If you're listening, this week we have Chapter 11. Enjoy the read! Unfortunately, I also have sad news to bring you... Its with a sad heart we have to let you know that Ben, the child with cancer we asked you to help support has passed away. Please keep his family in your thoughts and prayers. Art by Annie Zhu, Story by James Wylder Previous chapters are also available as an audio podcast from the Southgate Media Group. http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawnspodcast You can also subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html Chapter 12: The ConfrontationThere are times in life when you can't run away anymore. You run and run, but you find yourself in a corner, and there is nowhere else to go. At that point, you have choices. You can fight, you can surrender, you can beg, you can die... It’s not as simple as to just fight or die, but the choice you make in that moment will change your whole future. Graelyn had always run, but now she was in a corner, or at least a Pyramid. Lizette, had done her hair this morning, and she'd eaten lunch with the extended Salazar family, which had been an experience in itself. Manuel was something of a patriarch, and even more of raconteur. He wove stories from the head of the table that left everyone laughing and feeling genuinely at ease. They all knew the raid would be coming tonight. The city streets were empty now. But Manuel looked as though this were a normal Thursday.
"And then I told the man, 'You can still win the hopping contest with two legs!' but he wouldn't relent, so in the end I ended up having to engineer him a detachable leg, just so he could win a hopping competition! I was so confused why it was important to him till I went there, and I saw what the prize was." Everyone leaned in, and he held the pause carefully, "And then I knew he'd made the right choice, because it was a lifetime supply of chocolate. And I knew I'd trade my left leg for that too!" Graelyn smiled as she ate her soup. Enjoy your last meal. You'll be in the corner next. * * * * Sarah slid through the back alleys, using her camouflage to hide along the walls. She waited for two hours on a rooftop for the cleaning droids to get into the right position, and then made a running leap onto it. She chanced a glance back: the streets were empty. Her cloak made her invisible to cameras, so she was safe. Exhaling, she gripped the droid tightly as it began to scrub up the side of the Pyramid. She stayed perfectly still as it began its slow ascent. * * * * "This is crazy." Arch said to Alice. "Do you really think this will work?" "It has to. I won't be able to get in on foot. I could get into the city with a camouflage cloak, but we can't find a way into the pyramid from the ground." Alice snapped another piece of the armor into place. "No civilian casualties, and we'll be right at the source." Her facemask mechanically closed over her face, and her metal armor straight out of some company's weapon's development program looked like something off the cover of a sci-fi novel. It had been repainted a camouflage patterned black, and an emblem of a bird was on either shoulder. She flexed her fingers, his first reflex to, and he could hear the tiny motors working to move them. "Its not a perfect fit, but I'll certainly survive our insertion." "Well then, I guess our goal is set." "I'd say Viva la Revolution, but you guys have passed that point." Alice nodded her armored head. "It feels weird to be fighting for stability now... I suppose I'm not meant to live in this world." "Don't say that..." "We both know it’s true. I'm the Songbird of Liberation, not quarterly tax forms." "I think you're more than you think you are." She didn't respond, just began checking her weaponry. * * * * Maria slipped up through the halls of the building, and passed through each security checkpoint without a hassle. If she could make this easier on everyone, she would. She knew where he'd be. She rode the lift to the top of the Pyramid, where he'd be waiting. Her left hand shook uncontrollably. This was never going to be easy. * * * * Manuel Salazar sat on the roof of the Pyramid of Nojpeten, leaning back in a lawn chair. Rather than a sacrificial altar, he'd put a park up here. There were trees, and paths, and a lawn. As well as tables and chairs. He checked the time on his phone: Lizette should have told Graelyn to come up here by now, and as he looked down, he heard one of the lifts 'ding' as it reached the apex. Graelyn stepped out, wearing the same outfit as yesterday. "Do you like my park?" Graelyn stepped out onto the stone path and walked towards him. "Its very nice. Why are you waiting up here?" "I'm waiting for you, and for everyone else." "Do you really think everyone is going to come and meet you on the roof to... What duke it out?" "Yes." He reached over to a table, and pulled a beer off of it, that he popped the cap off and took a deep swig of. "That is exactly what is going to happen. Graelyn, have you ever wondered why I call people Senior and Seniorita?" She shrugged, "You're from central America?" "But really, you're from Russia, you don't run around calling people 'comrade!' all the time." Ah, well then. It was obvious when he put it that way. "You're playing them." Salazar grinned, and his accent dropped away. "I can talk in boring midwestern English if you wanted me to. I'm good with languages." The accent came back. "But when I talk like this, what do people assume about me?" "That they're better than you." "Exactly." "Why are you giving up that advantage to me? If this is an important ruse to keep up, why tell me?" They hadn't heard the lift ding, and a woman walked towards them from it, she looked serious. "Because when you're backed into a corner, letting people see your strategy is sometimes the only way to get out of it." Graelyn turned, and saw a woman she knew she'd seen before.... It took her a moment. She had been in Songbird's base. "Manuel, watch out she's--" "--With the Revolution? Oh, he knows." Manuel stood up, and walked up the woman, embracing her. Graelyn's jaw went a bit slack. "Okay so you guys know each other." "This is my sister Maria, Graelyn." "Oh." She held out a hand, "A pleasure to be introduced." She shok her hand warmly. "Manuel, you know why I'm here." He went over to a case by his chair and pulled out another beer, offering it to Maria, she held out a hand to decline, and he replaced it. "Of course I know why you're here. You want me to turn myself in so you can put on a nice show trial for me." "It won't be a show trial. They're scared of you. You know that. We can get you life in prison. You can live, see your grandchildren, your children, someday your great grandchildren." Manuel shook his head. "Maria, I can't do that. I can't live a life locked up. I can't be a pawn to oppress this city. I plan to die with dignity, or live with honor. I'm not going to back down." "Why can't you just surrender? Make a peace deal?" Graelyn asked. "They want my blood, little girl." It was the first time he'd talked down to her, "They need to make an example of me, to prove the old order is dead. I couldn't do anything to prove good intentions to them if I wanted to." The board was set, a bishop moved into the field, but it didn't take the king. * * * * Sarah watched as the droid made the final steps of its ascent. Her artificial heart beat like an overbearing drum machine. Her handcrafted pores sweat in anticipation. She made the leap, her legs pushing like springs off of the droid, vaulting her through the air, up to the edge of the roof, to which she grabbed on with all her strength, and lifted herself up onto. She stood, and saw Manuel with two women, and bolted towards him. The three all turned, two of them in shock, one of them in pleasent surprise. She slid to a halt, her fists raised. One of the women, the white one, looked her up and down, clearly surprised to see her wearing a cheery sundress. "Mister Salazar, you're in danger." "Holy shit." The white girl said. "You're goddamn right." Sarah replied. "I'm not quite in danger yet. But I had no idea you'd be coming. I cannot say I'm not happy for you to be here." The two hugged, and the white girl kept looking back between them. "She has metal teeth." She said confused. "Mister Salazar fixed my body when I was a child. He saved my life, and made me more than I was." She held up a hand and clenched it into a fist, "The man is a saint." "...Okay." She replied. "Maria, Graelyn, meet Sarah MacLachlan. She's an old friend." Black moves to castle, the rook takes its position to protect the king, after taking out an enemy rook on the road. * * * * "I need to get you out of here, I have connections, I can hide you on the rim." "Wouldn't the Librarian have something to say about that?" Sarah seemed to pout for a moment, "...Yes...." "I survive on Earth or I die. Are you prepared to help with that?" Sarah raised her head. "I'll give my life for you, sir." "Manuel, people are going to die for you, no matter what. They'll lay siege to this city if you live." Maria said, louder. "Then I'll fight them." He shouted back. "This is madness." "This is war." Graelyn looked up at the sky, where hundreds of objects streaked down through the darkening sky. Missiles and gunfire shot up from the ground, and many exploded in the air, blowing up into a rain of paper pamphlets that fell over the city. "It’s just propaganda?" Graelyn asked. "No," Maria answered, "Its cover." One of the objects swerved around a missile, and accelerated towards the roof. Graelyn moved to cover her face as it impacted, sending a rain of torn up cobblestone spraying from where it landed. From it rose two figures, one coated head to toe in a silvery sheen, swords sliding out of its arms. The other a blackbird, rifle in hand, rising from the firely crater. "No. Not you Arch." Graelyn whispered. The white player moves its Queen onto the field, along with a knight. Check. * * * * "Arch no! What are you doing?" Graelyn yelled, and Chrome teeth ran forward, her fists out. "She's going to die, stop her!" She yelled again, and arch raised a sword to block her arm. It should have disarmed her literally, but the sword just cut through the skin. Chometeeth grinned, and punched Arch in the belly. He reeled, and tried to move his other sword into her gut. She twirled out of the way, and pulled her foot behind his leg, pulling his knee forward to trip him. As he fell, he used the moment of the fall to bring his other leg up into her chest, and the two fell to the ground together, they both rose again, and he swung at her, two which she blocked, and leaped over him, inhumanly high. But he followed the leap the same way. She grinned. They hit each other in the air and slid to the ground some distance from each other. Each rose into a sprinter's position, and charged. They collided with an unholy sound, leaving Arch dented, and Sarah's Jaw hanging off its hinge. She still looked eager as they began exchanging blows faster and faster, parrying each other's blows. He stabbed her in the leg. She ripped a piece of plating off his shoulder revealing the mechanical bits beneath. They slid back again, panting, and charged once again. All the while Alice walked toward Salazar, her rifle in hand. "So then, Songbird. It’s so nice for you to join me. Would you like a drink? I brought plenty." He offered her a beer, then a coke. She raised her gun. Sarah looked to her left, and as they began charging each other, knew she was out of time. She waited till Arch was close, and left herself open. His sword slid between her ribs, and she could hear him make a shocked sound as she rammed her hand through the exposed shoulder into his chest. He tried to break free of her, but it was too late-- she clenched her fist down on something inside Arch and threw him like a shot put, right into Songbird, who was knocked right over by the projectile. Alice was already rising, and Sarah slid between them, blood oozing out of her chest through her dress. Alice cursed as the suit began jerking, its internal mechanisms damaged from the impact, and pressed a release valve inside it with her tongue. The armor fell off of her like flower petals, and she rose out of it, rage in her eyes. Manuel pulled a pistol out, but instead of pointing it at Alice, set it on the table. Graelyn didn't understand, but she ran to Arch who had destroyed Salazar's chair, and was screaming in pain. "Its going to be okay Arch..." She tried to comfort him, but she really didn't know if he would be. Why had Salazar chosen this fate? Why didn't Songbird just bomb him from orbit? Why did anyone have to fight anyone? Why couldn't they just leave each other alone? Why couldn't they just mind their own business? Black oil and red blood oozed onto Graelyn's dress and she felt rage flood her brain. This was everyone's fault. Salazar's, Songbird's, Arch's, Maria's, Sarah's, her own to. People were going to die, and there would be blood everywhere. She covered her face with her hands. "You're a pathetic little thing." Her mother said, "Its no wonder you tried to take the easy way out." She felt the impact of her mother's hand, as she begged her to stop, and saw Sarah bleeding from the ribs, where she'd been hit so many times. "You'd stop this if you were strong. But you're not. You're going to be a good girl, because you know what you deserve." Graelyn began shaking. No NO NO this wasn't what she deserved this wasn't what anyone deserved, this war, this fighting, this bloodshed. She could do better. She could stop this. Arch moaned in pain. She looked at the gun on the table. "You'll have to shoot me first if you want to get to him." Sarah yelled. "Fine." Alice Said, and shot her in the leg five times. She dropped to the ground, and she and Arch made the same noises now. "Alice, you don't have to do this." Maria said, "You're not the World Council. You're better than them." She looked at Maria, her eyes burning, "I am utterly and only the World Council. If I don't do this they will burn this city to the ground to keep the world safe. You know that right? They're out for blood. And so am I." She narrowed her sights on Manuel. "You might not want to watch this." Maria looked away. She knew she was right. "I'm unarmed, I've offered you a drink, and you come here and shoot my friends. So this is the face of the revolution. I hope you're happy with what you've created." "You know damn well what you stand for! I saw what Centro did. People were slaves to you. You could pay money to get away with murder. And I saw what happened in Mexico City." "...What happened in Mexico City?" Salazar looked confused, and worried. "You were on the board of Directors. You tell me. You saw what Graelyn Scythes did. And even if you didn't, you were part of the system that let that happen... That let...." Her gun shook in her hands. "I cannot let you live Manuel Salazar. I have to kill you, for the sake of the future." He chugged the rest of his beer, and threw it to the side. "Then it is done." Sarah tried to rise again, but he gently pushed her down with his foot. "Goodbye Maria, I'm glad you came. You could have let me die alone, I'm grateful for that." He reached out to her, and she took his hand for a moment, before stepping back again. "Well then, Alice. Lets end your revolution. You win." "NO!" Graelyn picked up the gun. She had never picked up a gun before, but she knew she could use it. She'd seen enough movies. She'd played enough games. The handle was cold in her hand, and she watched Alice's face turn slowly towards her, the trees moved slower to. "Alice, don't be the kind of person who'd do this. You're brave, and honest, this isn't the only-" But Graelyn Scythes, 17, had never held a gun before. She waved the gun to the side, to gesture, but her finger glanced down on the trigger. There wasn't time for anyone to react, there was just a quick cacophony of bangs, and a perfectly diagonal line of red holes appeared on Alice's chest. "Oh." Alice said, and crumbled over. Graelyn dropped the gun and stared. No. Manuel began laughing, and Graelyn just stared, her face pale. Alice lay there, blood coming out of places it was never meant to. It almost looked like she was shivering. "You little bitch you thought you could take what was mine did you? Did you? You thought this was your world? This city is ours you brat! We're free without you." He went on and on, and Graelyn walked over to Alice, and knelt by her, taking her hand. "I don't know what to do." Graelyn begged. Alice looked at her, and Graelyn couldn't figure out what the expression meant. "Manuel!" Maria yelled, "Help her!" "Why would I help her? Why in this whole world would I help her? The woman who has ruined everything I worked for. Who do you think I am Maria? A coward? I'm a Director, I can do what I like and no one can stop me? Who do you think I am?" Graelyn looked down at Sarah, and up at Manuel. "Manuel," she said, "You're a Doctor." Manuel Salazar stood for a moment, his face slid back from his tirade, and he stared at the bleeding woman with red hair on the ground in front of him. He looked at Graelyn, and saw him squeeze Alice's hand. "To me, you're a miracle." Sarah had said. Manuel walked over to Alice, "Maria, get a medical staff up here for Arch and Sarah. I'll need my equipment as well. My phone is on the table, you know the pass-code." "Now Graelyn, I'll need you to help me. We need to stop the bleeding. So follow my instructions precisely." The hands of Manuel Salazar had been called a gift from God, and they worked faster than hands had any right to. He didn't even pause as people ran up handing him new equipment. He worked with perfect grace and stability, and as he removed the bullets, and reattached tissue, and sealed wounds, one could not help but admire those hands. Different hands went to work on Sarah and Arch, and the two were easily stabilized, though Arch's anatomy proved someone confusing at first. It came as no surprise if you saw those hands that Manuel saved Alice's life. And as they loaded her onto a gurney to take her away to the hospital. Manuel smiled at Graelyn. "We saved her. You were right." "You told me you had a facade. You were right to. It was more than just saying Senior." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe now that I've saved her, we can work something out, me and the Council. This doesn’t have to be an apocalypse. Honor... Dignity, bullshit. We'll live. There will be a future." She rose to her feet, "I'm glad for you, Manuel. But I crossed a line. I'm sorry." Graelyn bolted without another word, running towards the side of the Pyramid. She focused on it. She could see the edge, it was like running towards a release. She could feel the muscles in her body like she'd only ever felt once before, felt her breath, felt her life, and she prepared to jump. This was for the best, after all. She'd never screw up again. She'd never disappoint anyone again. Everything she did she'd ruined. They were better off without her. "Graelyn!" She heard a voice, and she tried to stop. She ended up sort of falling over and sliding, as she looked up to see Lizette, who was there with several other Salazars at the lift. They had probably come to check up on things, or, well, it didn't matter. She rose again, on unsteady legs, and she looked back at the ledge. She wanted to. She really, truly wanted to. But she noticed something about Lizette. She was wearing the same dress as her, just many times smaller, and not stained with blood and oil. Lizette's small face was filled with shock. Graelyn collapsed to her knees, unable to go any further, and for the first time she could remember in years, she began to sob. Lizette broke free of her parents and ran to her, wrapping her arms around her. Graelyn cried like she never knew she could cry, and Lizette stayed there with her, until the sun broke over the horizon, and a new dawn pushed its hand across the board of the world, and wiped the pieces clean. The story continues next week! The aftermath of the confrontation will mean different things to everyone... And a new world no one expected. Authors's note: due to illness the audio version of this chapter is delayed. I will be recording it this weekend. I'm truly sorry about any inconvenience. -Jim Art by Annie Zhu, Story by James Wylder, Special help with the Itza language by Anne Wylder (thank you!) Previous chapters are also available as an audio podcast from the Southgate Media Group. http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawnspodcast You can also subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html Chapter 11: NojPeten, k-in-k'äm-ik-ech! (Nojpeten, I Love You) February, 1697 AD Ajch'o' raised himself out of the water, and tried not to look back at the city, at his home. He failed. The Spanish banner flew high over the highest temple, and Ajch'o' could only turn his head away again. The flag was only so clear because of the flames, and the music to greet its rise was screaming. “Ajch'o', come on!” He heard someone say. He kept moving forward, but he felt faint. It was hard to move his arm to run. Looking down, he saw he was bleeding. He'd been hit by something. A bullet? He wasn't sure. He could only keep on moving, trying to get as far away from the Spanish as he could. His vision was blurring. How had this happened? Today of all days, the last free Kingdom had fallen to the Spanish, and he had been there to see it crumble. His friend Box-Keej had been killed, shot right through the heart. Ajch'o' had had to make a choice—try to avenge his friend and die from the next Spaniard, or one of their Mayan allies, or run. He saw his friend sputtering up blood on the ground, and he ran for the water. Most of the city did, they had fled. There was no one to come to their aid anymore, no one to fight with them. There had only been Nojpeten, the last great city. Not even a great city if he was being honest, it wasn't that big. But it had been home, and it had been theirs. What would have happened if they had all banded together to fight the Spanish? He pushed the thought out of his mind. It was not only too late, it was impossible. There were simply too many peoples, too many nations, and the Itza were just one of many who all had their own grudges and desires. He felt hopeless, and his strength gave out. He collapsed onto the ground, becoming deeply aware of how much blood he'd lost. “Hey.” A voice said, “Oh man you are not in good shape. Don't worry, I've got some stuff for that.” He felt something slap onto his arm, where the bullet wound was, and his vision began to clear up. “You're still missing a lot of blood, but that boost of adrenaline should kick you up now that your wound is being stitched up.” What was he talking about no one was sealing his wound there was just a weird blue blob on it. The owner of the voice slipped an arm under his shoulder and lifted him up. “I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier. I can't say we didn't debate it, but in the end there was just no way we could predict where the timeline would go if we shifted it. Too risky, so we'll have to pull off our plan somewhere else in this universe. Probably the 2400's. Sorry this literally cannot make any sense to you, I just thought you deserved to know.” Ajch'o' turned his head to look at the man supporting him. He was wearing a strange gray garment, one he'd never seen before that covered his torso and arms with an opening in the front that had some sort of... metal teeth lining it on either side. It also had a hood with the crest of the sun right on the man's forehead at the peak of the hood. “Who are you?” “Just call me Vice, for now.” That was a weird name. The man's skin was even paler than the Spaniards, so maybe he was one of their kind. Was this a trap? “I can't stay for much longer Ajch'o',” the man said as he set him down on a log. Ajch'o' got a glimpse of his back and saw that the sun was part of a pattern where it changed in phases down the hood and the spine till it became the moon. “But I want you to remember Nojpeten. I want you to tell your children about it, and your children's children. A new Dawn is coming. You're just about 800 years off. You should have died here, that's about all I can change without getting noticed. You're welcome.” The man handed him a medallion, shaped like half a sun and half a moon. He turned it in his hand, it felt warm on the sun part and cold on the moon part. That was impossible. He looked up to ask the man a question, but he was gone. “Ajch'o'!” He heard Tz'unu'un yell, she ran towards him, tears streaking down her face. “They said you were dead, that you were shot!” She embraced him, he hadn't realized she was that worried about him... Cautiously he returned the embrace. “We need to keep moving.” She said at last, and helped him up. The moved through the forest through the night, till the sun peaked over the horizon. There was a new dawn, and though he wouldn't live to see it to fruition, he'd lay the foundation. July, 2495 AD "That city used to be called Flores, before I became a Director at Centro Sytems. Now its returned to its old name, its real one. Nojpeten." The city was vast, starting on an island and sliding off it via huge bridges. At the center of the island was a gigantic skyscraper built in a similar shape to a Mayan Pyramid. "A long time ago my ancestors, the Itza people, ruled this land. But the Spanish took it from them. As is the way of the world." Graelyn stared out at the twinkling lights of the city, "Mayan-Futurism" maybe described the architecture best. "I find it highly unlikely you don't have Spanish ancestors as well." Graelyn mused. "Well of course I do." Manuel laughed, and sipped his wine. "I'm fairly certain I have an ancestor from nearly every continent if you nosed around enough. I don't give a damn about 'racial purity.' But its not just the percentage of your genetics that hail from a culture that define your heritage, its who you chose to idolize. Its what your heritage means to how the world defines you, and how you define the world." The city began to slip beneath them as they slowed down, and Graelyn could see people and cars in the dark streets below, moving around in the form of pin-prick shapes. "Nojpeten represents our freedom, the last holdout against the Spanish, the last holdout against this so called revolution." Graelyn turned to him sternly, "Mister Salazar, you don't honestly think you can beat them?" He smirked, "Not in a straight fight. Funnily enough, I'll be beating them the way Revolutions beat their foes for years-- cunning. I know what their next move will be, and I'm ready for it here..." He sighed as he looked out at it, "This was all just a land of poor workers. Centro took very little notice of it except to throw us in their factories. But look what I made-- I gave my home dignity, success, purpose." "It sounds like you and the Revolution actually have a lot in common." He sneered at her. "Alice MacLeod wants to take what we built with our own hands and give it to everyone. This city isn't just my work, its the work of the people who live there. I don't care if her ideology wants us to be equal, we've been kicked down by the rest of the world for centuries. I'm not going to give that up just so a little girl can pretend to be Che Guevara." Graelyn adjusted her glasses. Her prison clothes were still uncomfortable, and she missed her real glasses. If only they'd had time to grab her belongings... "Mister Salazar, I want you to understand, and this is coming from someone who Alice MacLeod tried to murder, that I respect both of you." He lowered his wine glass, and set it down gently, as the view from the window showed they were almost on the landing pad. "Both of us? Curious." "I think if the two of you could talk instead of fight each other, you might be able to come to some sort of arrangement. I don't think you're as different as you both think you are." The craft landed, and the doors were opened. "I doubt it. Now Graelyn, welcome to the city of the old gods." * * * * For the second time in not that long, Arch found himself waking up without control of his limbs. The camera of his eyes rebooted, and he began to take in the world around him, blurrily. His microphones switched back on, and he listened. "I think he's waking up." The world began to come into focus, and he saw a woman squatting next to him, her face leaning into view. Behind her was another woman nursing a bruised head with a beret, Chantelle, Jack, and the man with lots of stubble who'd captured him in the first place. The gangs all here. "Welcome back, we thought we might have lost you." Arch tried to sit up, but found his motors were still rebooting. "That energy wave effected you hard. Your heart stopped, technically you died, while out of your prison cell." "Your guards let me out." "Oh no, those weren't my guards. Salazar clearly was interested in talking to you, he set it up with his plants. The question is now, what am I supposed to do with you?" "I need to find Graelyn." "Yes, I thought you might say that. She's with Salazar." His processors put extra effort into restarting his systems, and he bolted into a sitting position. "He captured her?" "I'll be generous: He freed her from prison and she was smart enough to realize it might save her from execution. You don't like Salazar do you?" His arms began to get motor function back, and he tested them, moving his fingers. "I have reasons to hold a grudge on him." "I'm curious as to why. If this is a new reality for you like you told me, he's not the same person." Arch trained his eyes on her. "And neither is Graelyn." "Then why a vendetta." "I need questions answered." "Then we both have a reason to see him." "What are you going to do to him?" "Whatever the Council decides for me to do." "That's less decisive than I imagined." "I'm not into lying. I want you to come with me. I'm going to confront him. Laying seige to a city like Nojpeten will cost countless lives. This isn't like New York where there was no way in but invasion. Salazar is the only thing holding this resistance together. If I get to him, we can take the city with only minimal fighting." "And what does the council want you to do?" She stared at him, her mouth very nearly forming words. * * * * Chess Mistress Hex, aka Ariadne Moore, aka Leesa... Oh, she called herself by too many names to list, you get the picture, leaned back in a plush chair on her starship. It was still a long flight to Alexandria, the Index headquarters. She closed the view ports with a grimace of disgust. She didn't want to see Earth, even as a tiny dot. That didn't mean she didn't have a plan to take advantage of the situation, but she struggled to think of something half so frustrating as losing the entire planet Earth to Revolutionary Communists. At least she'd bought out some of their leadership. Too many of them were true believers for it to be a pure victory, but she'd shored up some decent support. All would not be lost. "Alexis, please give me a report on important events I've missed." Alexis, identical in every way except for her docile mind, smiled as though she had won the lottery in getting to perform this task. "Yes, Mistress Hex! The World Revolutionary Council has nearly secured the whole planet. The only real hold out is Nojpeten City, where Manuel Salazar has fled to along with Graelyn Scythes to make a last stand against the WRC." Hex sat to attention so quickly her sunglasses went askew. "Did you just say Manuel Salazar is still alive?" "Yes Mistress, his escape plan went into effect before your agent could perform the assassination." Hex stowed her sunglasses in her bag. Her face was placid, but something about her suggested she was preparing to tear out someone’s jugular. "Alexis, order that agent to move immediately to Nojpeten." "Of course Mistress. Also, your puppets on the WRC have informed us they are going to be voting on a plan to take care of the situation. What should I have them do?" "Order them to..." She trailed off in thought and saw the solar system laid out like a chess board. She needed to kill a power piece, a piece that knew things about her she wouldn't like anyone to know now that the old rulebook had been thrown out... But wouldn't the best way to kill the piece to be to let another player play the match? To take that player off the board as well if they could? "...order Alice MacLeod to make the assassination. She is the Songbird of Liberation. How fitting for her to make the final blow of their Revolution? And what a pity if she didn't come out of the assignment alive. Have my agent standing by in case she fails." "Of course Mistress!" "Oh, and Alexis, bring me a bottle of the 2227 Vintage. This has been a long week." * * * * Long-Knife Lazarus was the best killer in the universe, in his own opinion. It was easy to think that when he'd killed all of his targets he'd gotten in the same room as, and was still breathing. Working for the Index was easy money, go to exotic places, kill people, go home, get paid. He drank his margarita with relish, and waited for his contact. "Lazarus." Chrometeeth slid into the seat at the table across from him. She wore a bright yellow sundress with moving images of a dancing cartoon mouse on it. Instead of eyes, she had a semi-oval band over her eye sockets he knew saw better than eyes ever could. Her hair was perfect. Her shoes were cute but practical. Her nails were pristine. She had a small matching handbag, and teeth made of metal that could rip a man's throat out. He knew her reputation very well: she looked 23, but she was far older than that now. She'd had more biological modifications than anyone he'd ever met, and he knew she could kill a room of normal people. "Chrometeeth. I didn't realize you were still on earth." "There's a lot of shit to fix up, this planet's been turned so upside down its head is red and its toes are blue. How's the alcohol?" "Cheap and strong." "Perfect." She ordered something intense, he knew her modified liver would make it the equivalent of drinking water for her. "So then, I know you're here on a kill-job, and I'm here to facilitate it now that he origional plan fell through." "That's right." "Whose the mark?" "Manuel Salazar, nearly the last of Centro's leadership." Sarah MacLachlan froze. "You said you're here to kill Manuel Salazar." "Orders right from the top, the Librarian himself." Well, herself, she thought, though that was need to know. "Where's he holed up?" Lazarus pulled out a holoprojector and showed the layout of the main pyramid of Nojpeten. "Nojpeten. His private city. Its basically a fortress, so gunning our way in won't work. It will have to be an infiltration job." She nodded. "Any ideas before I chime in?" He expanded an area of the Pyramid to show the base. "I think the best way would be via the direct exterior, there are cleaning robots that move along the outside in a strict schedule. I've found when one moves from the base to the crown during the movement. If I wear a camouflage cloak, it should be fairly simple. Its a security flaw that really wouldn't come up in peacetime." Chrometeeth smiled. "Its a good plan." He smiled back. "I'll take it." Her hand bolted forward like a bullet and grabbed Lazarus by the hair, slamming his head into the table. He moved to draw a gun, but he felt something jab into his neck. "Shh, you'll be okay. You'll just be awful sleepy for a bit. You had so much to drink, and your mission has been canceled." She paid the tab, and slid out of the booth, carrying him like he'd passed out. She'd tie him up and lock him in a hotel room, disable any of his bio-mods that were built in weapons, and get to work. Sarah remembered her bones withering to mush, and the pain that could only be wiped away by enough drugs to numb her to the point of sensory deprivation. And she remembered Doctor Salazar. * * * * "The WRC ordered me to kill Salazar." Alice finished. "I thought they were all about trials now?" Arch asked. "They changed their minds." "That doesn't sound like this is a normal decision." "Its not." "But you're doing it?" Alice sighed, and looked back at her team. "Arch, how important is your freedom to you?" He thought a moment, "Nearly the most important. Second to the freedom of my..." He struggled for a word, "Family. Friends. People." "Then we understand each other. Arch, I'm not going to come out of this mission alive if I succeed." Jack looked horrified. "Alice, you can't do this, your life is worth-" "-more than the lives of the innocent people in that city? No. No its not Jack. I never thought I'd make it out of this war alive, and I've been proven right. But you Arch, you can help me get in there alive, rescue your friend, and ask your questions." "How will I get out with her?" "You're a walking army, I'm sure you'll figure something out." "I'm surprised you trust me with this." She gave a sliver of a smile for the first time in their conversation. "Do you know why we didn't cuff you Arch? Its not because we couldn't control you. If we wanted to, we could have knocked out your electronic systems. You're not invulnerable. I let you loose because from the moment you decided to negotiate with my soldiers instead of killing them that your appearance was not the sum of your character. You're not a walking weapon, you're a person who wants to protect a friend, who doesn't want to fight even though you'd be the best at it. Who doesn't like hurting people. I let you wander loose, and you trusted me to hold to me word in not killing you and your friend, and you never once tried to break out." Arch rose to his feet, and dusted himself off. "Okay, I'm in. I'll help. But on one extra condition." "Name it." "I get one of those hats." He pointed at Shona's beret. "Done." * * * * Graelyn had fallen asleep nearly as soon as she'd been shown her bed. She had no idea how long she slept, but she awoke to a full breakfast at her bedside, and a view from the high pyramid down across the city through her window. After she ate, there was a knock on her door, and a young girl, maybe 11 years old, the resemblance between her and Salazar was uncanny. "Miss Scythes, good morning! My grandfather asked me to look in on you." "Thank you, I'm feeling much better this morning." "Would you like to change into something other than your prison garb?" Graelyn looked down at her ill fitting clothes." "Utterly." "The shower and toilet are in the door right there." She pointed, "I'll go get some clothes for you while you shower." Given a chance to shower and change she threw herself into the task with a fervor, and after she spent plenty of time scrubbing the grime and blood out of her hair and skin, found herself with plenty of options for what to wear, as the granddaughter wheeled in an entire rack of clothes sizes for her perfectly. In the end she decided on a spun white dress with a black jacket cut so that its hem was only midway down the back as well as some matching sneakers, since she kept having to run through places in peril she decided she should abandon flats for the time being. When in Nojpeten, do like the Itza, she figured so she reluctantly agreed to let Salazar's granddaughter braid her hair. She went at it gleefully, her fingers working dextrously, and only occasionally causing Graelyn to wince when she pulled too hard. "How does it look?" She asked Graelyn. "It looks good Lizette." It really did, her hair looked fantastic, she wouldn't take the time to do this herself, but the new look made her feel refreshed after all the horror. She was finally stopped in one place, and the immeasurable weight of the last few days began to set in on her. She'd managed to end up in an alternate reality, watch herself die, get tossed between two skyscrapers, meet a woman who thought a city burning was nothing to get worked up about, lose the only person she knew from her own reality who she barely knew anyways, find out the other her had performed experiments on a living and unwilling person in her free time, get captured, went to jail, get broken out of jail, and then get flown to the prefecture of Guatemala. "Your hail feels funny." Lizzette said, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Excuse me?" "I mean, it doesn't feel like your hair." Graelyn touched her hair. It felt the same, if cleaner. "Its not artificial or anything." "I can't really explain it." Lizzette said. "Right, well, how do you like living in Nojpeten?" "Its really nice, people really respect Grandfather here. There are a lot of parades and parties throughout the year to." Graelyn smiled. "That must be nice." "Where are you from?" "Moscow. Its colder there, a lot colder. It a very different sort of city. I still love it, in its own way. I never really felt at home there though." "Do you have siblings?" "Oh yeah, I have an older brother, and two older sisters. We weren't a very close family though." "So you're the youngest?" Graelyn paused, and pursed her lips. Sort of? "Cause I'm the youngest to!" Lizzette said excitedly, and held Graelyn's hand. "How long will you be staying with us?" Graelyn shook her head. "I really don't know. It depends on a lot of things... Did another girl come with us? She would have been dressed in prison garb to. She was about my age, black?" Lizette nodded, let go of Graelyn's hand and ran out of the room, only to return with the Intern, who was wearing jeans and a black top with lace edges. Graelyn stood up happily, "You're safe! I'm relieved." They awkwardly moved in to hug, but then gave up and settled on shaking hands. "Do you think we're going to be safe here?" the Intern asked. "Salazar has a plan, so I can only hope..." "Grandad won't let anything happen to you!" Lizette enthused, "You can count on him." Graelyn smiled, she wasn't sure she believed her, but it was nice to hear nonetheless. "Thank you Lizette. I'm sure he won't. By the way, I can't just keep calling you Intern." "Actually, I'd prefer that." "Are... You sure?" That was frankly, pretty weird. "Yeah, it makes me feel safe right now." Sure, whatever. "Alright then, Intern, Lizette, what is there to do around here?" Lizette tugged on her dress, and the Intern's jeans, and took them to the elevator. They exited through he cathedralesque lobby onto the sunny streets of Nojpeten, as street vendors yelled in Spanish selling their wares, a street preacher yelled something unintelligible, a group of kids played soccer in a small park... They walked through an art show taking up the sidewalks, and bought lunch from a vendor selling some sort of dish with vat-grown meat packed in fried corn dough, washing it down with apple flavored soda. For all the city seemed like that day, it was like there wasn't a war going on. But Graelyn knew that would change tomorrow, and even as they walked the festive streets trucks of troops moved through the city. The city knew war would come tomorrow in some form, but not today. Today was their day of peace, and the city in unison had decided that they wouldn't let tomorrow hold them back today. Lizette bought them all some rice and cinnamon ice cream, and the three sat by the lakeside, watching the light dance on the water. She wondered if she'd have a day like this again. * * * * Alice handed Jack a box, and he looked at it perplexed. "Okay, you have given me a box." "There is a cat in it." "That is an awful underhanded way to give someone a cat." "Its not yours, well, it will be. Its mine." Jack squinted, "Don't you hate cats?" "It was Graelyn's. I promised her I'd look after it. I don't break promises. Anyways, when I don't come back, he'll need to be looked after." "No, if you don't come back. If. And, no, not if, you're coming back." Alice smiled, reasurringly. Sure, Jack, if you need to believe that. "His name is Captain Fudgesickle." Jack looked down at the box and back up at Alice. "That is literally the worst name for a cat I have ever heard." "Then I'm glad you're so committed to the revolution you can carry this burden." * * * * Maria moved through the jungle, and slipped in through the city gates at dawn. She was no different than any of the other travelers coming in and out, but she knew things they didn't. She moved through the streets calmly, towards the central pyramid. She had business with Manuel, revolutionary business, and he would not deny her. The WRC didn't know the area like she did, or the situation here. She could deal with this on her own. She reached a seemingly blank stretch of wall, and pressing her hand to it spoke a long series of letters and numbers quickly. It scanned her eyes, and took a sample of her DNA. She waited. "Welcome, Maria Salazar." The wall slid open, and she slipped in. It just as quickly shut closed. It had been a targeted risk, but he knew how family mattered to that man. He'd never deny his home to his sister. * * * * Chess Mistress Hex looked out at the data laid out in front of her: The board was set. The pieces were in place. There were pawns and knights, bishops and rooks, kings and queens. Each moved in its own way, and she had mapped their movements out. No plan was without risk, but nothing could be gained without chance. The pieces were assembled thus, and the game would be played in Manuel's foolhardy endeavor of a city of Nojpeten. That backward, moronic, useless wretch. Still, she was clever enough to know to never underestimate her pieces. This game would need to be played with the appropriate finesse and respect. With Salazar and Songbird dead, she could easily hold carrots in front of the World Revolutionary Council. She already had enough of them in her pockets. She could still make this loss into a win. The board was set. White moves first. A hand reached out, across the lake in front of Nojpeten, and picked up a pawn. There was nowhere to go but forward. Next week: the dramatic confrontation. You won't want to miss it. Written by James Wylder, Illustrated by Annie Zhu This chapter is also available as an audio podcast from the Southgate Media Group. http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawnspodcast You can also subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html Chapter 10: Grae is the New BlackGraelyn and Arch were permitted a few moments together, and their first reaction, much to both of their surprises, was to hug. It has been an exhausting day, and they clutched each other for a moment, Graelyn's breath moving in and out as she pressed her cheek to Arch's cold chest, and Arch's breath continuing to move in a steadily pumped stream.
"I recognized that man, in the van." "So did I." "I wasn't sure if you would. What are you going to do?" "I don't want to talk about it." She knew he meant it, and she didn't press the issue. But his answer didn't help but worry her more. The wind blew through, and the guard cursed as she had to hold her beret in place. "They're going to put me on trial." Graelyn said softly. "We'll make a case for you." "They're out for blood. I, the me here, not me, did something in Mexico City. Something horrible. I don't know what." Arch rubbed her back gently. "I don't think you're capable of anything terrible." "You don't know me that well. Its in my blood." "That may be true but I'm still on your side." "How in Pluto's heart do you have so much trust in people." Arch shrugged. She could hear the machinery move in his shoulders through his chestplate. "Its not so much that I trust people as I don't want to give up trusting them." Graelyn let go of the hug and sighed. "I wish I had that luxury." Arch lowered his arms and made a motion like he was scratching his head, though he couldn't actually be scratching it of course. "Its not a luxury, its more of a-" "Time's up kids, lets move it." The guard nudged them with her rifle butt. Graelyn moved back, and moved her hands out in front of her where the handcuffs forcefully pulled together magnetically and resealed themselves together. "Why doesn't arch get them?" She asked the guard. "Look, we're all for keeping up appearances, but no one is under any illusions here." She just nodded. Everything was happening so fast, she wasn't sure who was being logical and who was being irrational anymore. Part of her doubted this was real, that her cuts and bruises had healed so fast from that gel, that she would be on trial for crimes that were her own but weren't, she felt an urge to go home, but she knew there was no such place. She was just as much at home here, being blown by a cold wind in handcuffs, as she was in a nice warm bed. At least she told herself as much. "I have another question, where is my cat?" "Your cat?" "Captain Fudgesickles, the cat I was holding when your people broke down they door. You guys took him from me." The guard's face was impassive. "You named a cat Captain Fudgesickles." It wasn't a question. "And I would again, now where is he?" The guard shrugged. "I really have no idea. Ask someone higher up the food chain." "I thought you were all equal, or whatnot." "Look lady, you don't have to be snarky. We're a military of course we have a hierarchy otherwise there wouldn't ever be a revolution. It would be like herding cats." "What exactly is herding cats like?" Arch asked seriously. "Its an expression, Arch." Graelyn tried to explain. "Okay but you'd have to know what herding cats would be like to understand it. Are there cat farms--" The guard had had about enough of this, and Arch was led off who knows where else, and she was taken to processing. She'd never imagined she'd end up here like her sister Xandra, but she supposed there was room for more than one black sheep in the family. If she ever left here. If her family ever learned of her travels. If... What if they existed here to? They had to, didn't they? She existed, and her siblings were older than her... She was searched (again) for hidden weapons, a little roughly, and taken to get a mugshot. She stood in front of the wall holding up her personalized placard with her prison information, and stared dejectedly at the camera as they snapped pictures of her. She'd tried to remain uppity with the guard outside, but she felt the resolve draining out of her as they took her through each step of the process. She had to remove her clothes, for which she was at least allowed privacy, and put on the prison garb, which was made of a loose top and bottom woven out of fibers that acted as tracking chips, lit up under focused UV light, and could be wirelessly triggered to flash and wail like a siren, as well as give her electric shocks. If she tried to remove the garments outside of select areas of the prison, she would set off the clothes to do all three of those things. The same guard who had been with her outside took her neatly folded clothes and vacuum sealed them in a bag. They took her hair ties, and her hair was now loose at her shoulders, something it almost never was outside of sleeping and lounging around at home. She felt invaded as people looked at her hair down, and tried to hide her face. They took her glasses, and replicated her new ones just in case she'd hidden anything in her old ones. For all she knew Ariadne Moore had installed trackers in those glasses she'd given her: she'd never even considered it. The guards seemed mighty confused why she had glasses though. "You could just get surgery, or get new eyes printed or grown." She heard the man she assume was the "Jack" from Alice's story say, he looked like her description of him, and his nametag said "Jack" which was another hint. "There is nothing wrong with my eyes." She said for the 8,000th time in her life. She was also given new undergarments, new socks, and new shoes. They all didn't fit her quite right, and she felt uncomfortable walking around in them. Then the guards took her to a white room where a doctor gave her a full physical examination, took a blood sample from her, and had her pee in a cup. "So am I in good health?" She asked. Her Doctor gave her a polite smile, "We'll see after the tests." And opened the door for the guards to take her away to her new residence. Finally deposited, she stood in her cell, looking at her reflection in a mirror across from her on the other side of the bars. "You don't even look like the same person." The guard in the red beret from the yard said. "I don't think I am." Graelyn turned to the guard. "What's your name?" "Shona." She replied, "Shona Daniels." "Why'd you join this fight?" Graelyn asked. "No big reason. No one shot my brother or anything maudlin like that, I just got tired of being pushed around." "So now you push other people around?" Shona scrunched her nose up, "Its not that way at all. Its your lot who were pushing people around. Just because we bit back doesn't make us bad people." "I can't argue with that. But I don't have a 'lot'. I don't even know whats going on anymore." "I'm starting to suspect you don't." A new voice said. Shona saluted crisply, "At ease soldier." Alice stepped in, she didn't look quite as dignified as she did in the field. She looked as tired as Graelyn did, like she'd pulled a mask of resolve away. She walked up to the bars of Graelyn's jail cell. "But the question isn't do I believe your story, but will the people of Earth." Somehow without the pomp, her word's frightened Graelyn. Without the rhetoric, without the red tinted slogans, she felt her stomach churn. "You'll be put on trial soon, we're trying to find a lawyer to take your case but its proving difficult, and I'm afraid there is very little chance you won't be executed. I'm being honest with you Graelyn. I Can't control the World Revolutionary Council, I can only fight them so much, on so many things. I have to apologize: yours is a battle I can't waste my effort on. I genuinely believe you're innocent, so you deserve my apology." Graelyn didn't know what to say. "That's it? You just... Come in here and tell me I'm going to die and you're sorry? My life has value. You can't just snuff it out because its inconvenient. You can't..." "Its not that simple. Should I fight for you to not die, or wait to play my cards to sway some of the more heated members into not punishing whole innocent communities who picked the wrong side in a fight they had no control over? I'm sorry. This isn't easy, and this isn't simple. Making change last means making these choices." Graelyn's hands slipped from the bars, and she tottered back and forth like a metronome. Silently, she stumbled over to the bed in her cell, and sat down. Alice at least did her the courtesy of not looking away. "I want you to look after my cat." Graelyn said, finally. "What?" "I have a cat. One of your soldiers took him from me when you were arresting me. If you're going to wash your hands of my life you're not going to let my goddamn cat die." Alice didn't particularly like cats, at all, she was definitely more of a dog person. She thought cat's were selfish predators people were crazy enough to let into their home, but she couldn't say no to this. "I'll take care of your cat." "Thank you." Graelyn said. "I also want you to see if you can get that Intern released. She's just a scared and confused girl. She doesn't want to hurt anyone." Just like me, she thought. Alice nodded again, "I'll see what I can do." Maybe this was for the best, she thought. She'd always disappointed everyone. This wasn't the worst thing that could happen to her. She wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again. She'd just disappear into whatever awaited her after her death. Arch could stop worrying about her to. She'd have to reassure him to not try to get her out of the situation by mounting some sort of violent rescue. The more she thought about it, she more she liked the idea of being dead. It was something she tried not to think about, but here it was, and it was somehow reassuring. "Alice... Songbird... What did the other me do in Mexico?" Alice looked at her sadly. "You really, truly don't know do you." "I know its something awful. Awful enough you shot those people." Alice broke her gaze away from Graelyn, "If you're going to die, its best you don't know. It will only make the end hurt more. * * * * Arch knew very well that his holding was a joke. The guards knew it. The Songbird knew it. So when he told the guard he needed to visit someone else in the prison, the guard sweated a bit as he called his superior. "You know, uh, Sir, that this is highly unusual." "Do I look usual to you?" Arch said, putting a mirror image of the guard on his body. "No, uh, no you don't, sir." The guard's called him sir. He didn't imagine Graelyn was getting the same cozy treatment, but he had to play along if they were going to get out of this alive. And not just get out of this situation, but out of this reality. Arch had no idea how the experiment that had brought him here with Graelyn worked, but he know she was the only person with the know how to get him out of it. "I want to see Manuel Salazar." Arch concluded. * * * * "You have a visitor." Shona said, knocking on the bars. Graelyn got up, and held her arms out for her cuffs to lock together, and was led to a room full of little cubicles with a pane of glass inside each one for people to talk to each other from either side. She was led to one, where the face that met her looked both shocked and overjoyed. It was her sister, Xandra. She was so much older now, she was older than Graelyn by three years, and with this place being 20 years beyond that ish, she had to be around 40. Her hair was in liberty spikes, she used to just have a Mohawk, and most of her head and visible skin was tattooed, along with copious piercings. She was smiling widely, and Graelyn couldn't help but smile back. "Graelyn!" She heard her voice clearly though the soundproof glass. There had to be built in microphones and speakers she couldn't see, "I'd heard you were dead and... you're so young looking." "Hi Xandra." Graelyn said, "I'm not actually sure where to start with explaining all of that." "Dad's been so worried. We thought for sure you couldn't have made it after your brother got shot a few minutes in..." Graelyn put her hand against the glass, as though that could reassure her. "What happened to him?" Xandra looked up confused. "Graelyn we already talked about this. You don't remember?" "We didn't talk about this. It wasn't me you talked to." Xandra put a hand over her mouth. "You're a clone. My sister said she'd never make a clone." "I... I'm not a clone." She sighed, "That would probably make more sense than the truth." "Well... Whatever you are, I'm done dealing with it." She got up, and left the room. That was Xandra for you, leaving whenever things got rough. * * * * The doctor pulled the results up on the screens so Alice and the others could look at them. "She's definitely not a clone. There are none of the tell tale signs of that, no implanted memories, no traits of vat growth, no attempts to make the cells look older than they are to cover up a rush growth job. Nearly no genetic differences either between the two subjects, except for a slight difference in hair color." "Hair color?" Jack said from the back of the room. "Yes, but we can't find any traces of modification. There are things we can look for to look for gene insertion or replacement, and there's no sign of it we can find in either genome." Graelyn's mugshot appeared side by side on a monitor next to a picture of a still living Graelyn shaking someone's hand and smiling for the camera: indeed, her hair was lighter, in the picture of the handshake than the mugshot. The mugshot Graelyn had rich black hair that was badly taken care of, while the one shaking hands had more of a very dark brown, and also had taken better care of it. "Examining the corpse of Subject One," a picture of the dead woman appeared, rope marks on her neck and all appeared, causing a few people in the room to grimace, "we learned a few things. Subject Two had been exposed recently to several forms of radiation, that Subject One never had. We also learned that Subject Two had sustained several childhood injuries that Subject One hadn't, while they had both sustained one similar one." "What sort of injuries?" Songbird asked. "Well, look, we can examine people at a molecular level, but this part is still guesswork. If I were to guess I'd say she sustained regular beatings as a child." Alice nodded. Part of her had doubted that Graelyn hadn't just been making that story up to play on her emotions. Now that she knew it was true, she felt guilty for doubting her. Though it wasn't like she didn't have good reason to doubt any word that came out of Graelyn's mouth... But how brave of her to tell a car load of strangers. "Anything else of interest?" Chantelle asked. "Well, now that you mention it..." The Doctor tugged at their collar. "Look, this is weird. This is very weird." The doctor pulled up some data on the screens. "We can date cells fairly precisely now, and date a person. by them. Subject Two has not received any de-aging modification, and is around seventeen years old... But was born thirty-seven years ago. "That's impossible!" Jack stated, obviously. "Yes it is." Alice mused. "It utterly is." * * * * A group of Guards walked Arch down the hallway, through a security checkpoint, and through to another hallway. There they led him to a cell where a man lounged in his prison gear as though he was in a high class hotel. "So you're the cyborg I've been hearing so much about." The man said in accented English. Arch analyzed the voice print and realized the man was intentionally accenting his voice more than he needed to, at least according to the software. He took it under note. "Yes, I am." "Awful kind of the prison to not even put you in prison garb. They scared of you?" "Maybe they should be." "I take it that might be a threat then." He swung his legs off the bed and rested his hands calmly on his knees. "Your name is Archimedes, no?" "And yours is Manuel Salazar." "You seem awful interested in me. Say, is there someone I should know with a grudge under that mask?" Arch tipped his head to the side like a dog trying to hear something. "You don't recognize the mask?" "Oh I recognize the mask. I designed it." "Then you do know why I'm here." "Do I?" He gave an exaggerated look of doubt. "Senior Archimedes, usually when people see me with that mask, they give me hugs. Which makes me wonder exactly who you think I am." "Don't play coy with me. You designed this." He held his arm out, flexing his fingers. "Me." Salazer leaned in, putting his index fingers to his lips and his elbows to his knees. "The curious thing is, there is something like you I thought of long ago." "And?" "Well, it never happened." Manuel finished explaining his plan to Ariadne Moore, and she burst out laughing. "Oh, Manuel! A child wouldn’t invest their allowance into something that absurd. Now, tell me what it is you actually want me to invest in.” She paused, hoping to see the rage light up on his face. He held it in, but his lips pursed, and his chin trembled. Her grin melted into a cool smirk. “Oh my, now this is interesting. That was your honest proposal. How charming.” “You're aware of what honesty is? You're full of surprises today.” She just kept smirking. Manuel grimaced and stormed off. There would be other plans. Somewhere else, Manuel finished explaining his plan to Ariadne Moore, who took a curt sip of her tea. "I think we can do business, Manuel. Let me assure you though, strictly business. My opinion of you remains the same." "Likewise." He said smiling. Ahnerabe Station was a go. "What do you mean it never happened?" "I tried to get funding and it failed. Now I heard a curious story from your fellow, with the black hair, and you know, I was wondering how long it would take the people here to notice." Arch leaned in this time, "Notice what?" "A few things. Graelyn Scythes doesn't have black hair. It’s very dark brown. Close enough most people would miss it. You're part of a project I discarded forty years ago, and the guards who brought you in here are all from Guatemala." Arch's body literally lit up in surprise. Salazar grinned, and then the anti-electronics grenades went off. And then the real bombs went off. * * * * Shona was looking through her phone, which she wasn't supposed to do, when the burst went off, and the phone went off, and the lights went off. "Shit." She said, and before she could say another word a man wearing night vision goggles kicked the door open and shot her with a double punch taser/knock out dart. As she faded out, she could her explosions, and wondered if everything was going to be okay. The world went dark for Graelyn, and she heard boots as she felt a shock as the electronics in her uniform shorted out. She heard the door to her cell unlock, and she heard a man say, "Quick, Director Scythes, take my hand." She grabbed on, and the man pulled her along as fast as he could through the dark. The emergency lights were even off, which was impressive. After opening a closed door by shooting out the lock, the man took her into the prison cafeteria, which was missing a wall, and prisoners were streaming out of into landing VTOLS. The man just pointed, and she didn't ask questions. Graelyn ran, other women in prison uniforms bumping into her as she did. No one bothered wondering why this was happening they just ran from the prison into the sunlight, where a defensive semicircle of soldiers was putting out covering fire to allow their escape. "Graelyn Scythes, why don't you join me?" Said Salazar, from the doorway of his personal VTOL, "After all, I think we have some things to discuss on the trip over." She looked behind her to see several revolutionary guards making their way into the cafeteria, and she ran to his VTOL, taking his hand to lift her onboard as the began to lift off. "Have you ever been to central America?" He asked. "I can't say that I have." She replied over the engines. "Oh, well this should be a treat for you." As the firefight continued below them, the door closed, and the VTOL accelerated, rushing past the sound barrier, as Salazar poured himself a glass of wine before the gunfire had even stopped ringing in her ears. Come back next week to find out exactly where Graelyn is ending up-- and what will Songbird do now that there has been a prison break? Things are coming to a head so be sure to read next week's exciting chapter of 10kd! Written by James Wylder, Illustrated by Annie Zhu This chapter is also available as an audio podcast from the Southgate Media Group. http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawnspodcast You can also subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html Chapter 9: Four Flashbacks and a Set up“I think a big mistake we make when looking at our current society is we think of it as a pinnacle: that is to say that all of history has been leading up to where we are now in our world. Certainly we have more technology, and we have made strides that to our ancestors were unimaginable, but that doesn't mean that we are the first, and it doesn't mean that we are the best versions of ourselves, or even that our descendants will be. The equality of one society can drain away into oppression with the flip of a regime, and people can lose their rights just as quickly. Ideas can be forgotten, or called heretical, and the world can revert into a state that would have been called barbaric a few decades before while still being more advanced than it ever has been before. This happens when we stagnate. When we give up that desire to reach for the sky, and instead lower our arms with a shrug and say “eh, good enough” we will lose the Golden Age we have fought for, and have to perform alchemy to bring about a new one from whatever ours is made of. And I don't know about you, but I've never seen a politician who can pass for an alchemist.” -Professor Freeman Xavier Graelyn looked down at her hands. These were hands that had done hours of pipeting, had stroked cats, had carried coffee, had run along the silent glass walls of Atlantis. There were cuffs around these hands, sturdy metal cuffs that didn't bend. Her wrists were sore as hell. Next to her, the intern of her other self sat frozen, her face trying awfully to conceal her terror. She glanced at Graelyn occasionally for support and she gave her back thin smiles, which was the most she could manage at the moment. Across from her was a man, she guessed from central America. He didn't look particularly bothered by the situation. Grey lines dotted his black hair in that signature way that screamed the man was at the strange meeting point between the wisdom of age and the physique of youth. The lines on his face showed he might be older than he looked though. The van bumped, and they both rose from their seats as far as their bindings would allow, only to crash back down. Graelyn stifled a grimace. The man looked totally non-plussed. She had seen him before. She stared at him. He raised an eyebrow. “You look surprised.” He said. Songbird glanced over at them. She looked serious. “I hadn't placed the name and the face before.” Graelyn replied. “So no introduction needed?” “I could afford one.” “Director Manuel Salazar, Nojpeten Inc. Doctor, designer, medical revolutionary.” The woman with red hair scoffed. “Shut up, no talking.” One of the guards barked repetitively. “Its alright.” The redhead said, “They're not getting out of this van.” Graelyn let the vehicle roll on a few more moments before she replied, staring at the redheaded woman. “Who are you?” Graelyn asked the woman. The man snorted comically. She didn't look up. “Don't tell me you don't know.” Graelyn shook her head, and despite the redhead not looking at her, she seemed to notice it. “I'm Alice MacLeod, you might have heard me by the name the people have given me, the Songbird of Liberation.” Alice looked her in the eyes as she said 'songbird', narrowing her gaze into pinpricks of light that burned her retinas to meet. She turned her eyes away away. “I take it you're important then.” One of the guard's laughed, the Intern seemed to think Graelyn was trying to be snarky. “You can't be serious.” “I'm very serious. I don't know who you are.” “You’re either a fantastic actor or a terrible one and I can't decide which.” Songbird idly checked her assault rife. “What's this Revolution all about anyways?” Graelyn asked, a little too innocently, “I mean...” She couldn't actually figure out how to repair the implications of that statement. “I've been wondering about you. What exactly you are. You know I threw you out a window earlier today.” “Yes, I was there.” “You were there twice. Not everyone can watch their own execution. So are you a clone? Or was the one I threw outside the window a clone?” Manuel laughed. “Graelyn Scythes would never make a clone of herself. She's got too much pride in her uniqueness.” Graelyn stared daggers at him for that, and he just laughed at her. “Are the rest of the Directors all dead?” He asked Songbird. She didn't reply, “Its not like we won't all find out later. Are Graelyn and I the last ones standing?” “If that is Graelyn, then no, Ariadne Moore escaped to the rim.” Manuel scowled at that. “The rest are all dead?” The Intern said, her voice cracking, her eyes brimming with tears. “We're still alive, we can pull through.” Graelyn tried to reassure her. “Oh, I wouldn't count on that.” Songbird replied, and the Intern began weeping. “Intern, INTERN!” Manuel yelled. “Don't listen to her. She’s not a god. Now what's your name?” “I'd rather they didn't know who my family was if I can help it.” “Fair enough, Intern. I can respect that.” “You're all responsible for numerous atrocities, or collaboration to them. We've noted them.” “I'm certainly somebody with noting.” Somehow Manuel came off as charming rather than self-involved, but Graelyn wasn't sure how. “Noted for your crimes.” Alice added. “So, how did you get here?” Graelyn asked. “Here is such a broad term. Here, there, time, place. Its all so transient. I'm sure it was a labor for all of us.” * * * * 1: The Hands of Manuel Salazar Manuel's hands worked with a fury, dancing through the incision with precision. The nurses had their roles choreographed perfectly, and the operating room was not so much full of blood but ballet, though there was certainly blood. Above him, the usual cadre of onlookers was observing the transplant, joined by a stranger they hadn't seen before. No one paid him much mind though. Salazar finished joining the last piece of flesh, and looked up at the nurses. “Totally stable Doctor Salazar.” Salazar let out a pant. “It didn't feel like a challenge.” “That's good sir.” He shook his head as he exited the oporating room, and began to remove his garb and wash up. The other nurses could take the patient from here, so he and Nurse Maya exited. “That boy's genetic abnormality should have been untreatable fatal sir, but you surgically corrected it. That was a miracle. No one has your hands.” “Now that I've done it we can run it into the machines, they'll figure it out. These hands are nothing irreplaceable.” He splashed water on his face, and looked up into the mirror. Such a young face for a Doctor. Not ludicrously so like they did in the movies, but still younger than most. He dried his face, and got ready to great the well wishers as he exited. There they were in a throng, wanting to congratulate him, get on his good side, invite him to their dinner parties. He didn't pay attention as he nodded, smiled, and reponded by reflex. At the edge of the throng was a man though, so nondescript his face was replaced when Manuel looked away by the idea of a man's face in his mind. He waited patiently for Manuel to finish with the others. He didn't try to cut in till the last one sauntered off, leaving the two of them alone in the hallway. “You're certainly patient.” “Some things are better said carefully.” He didn't rush his words either. “I am a busy man, you understand.” “I won't waste words then. I work for a man on the Rim who wants you to perform an operation.” Manuel shook his head, “I can't be bought to leave my work on Earth for some backwoods Titan. Excuse me.” He began to move past the man. “An operation you won't be allowed to do on Earth. Something no one has ever done in the history of humanity. Something that is impossible.” He stopped. Manuel turned. The nondescript man's face didn't seem to hold any expression he could pull ulterior motives out of. “Go on.” “A complete skeletal transfer. In one operation.” “That is impossible. You can't keep a human being alive and perform that operation. Maybe over the course of years or multiple operations-” “With a completely metal skeleton.” Manuel stared at Mr. Nondescript, and broke down laughing. He laughed till the wall volunteered itself as his support to keep from flopping over on the ground like a fish. “That- that is impossible. You have me there.” The man hadn't changed his impression. “If you say so. However, we heard you were interested in a challenge.” “That sort of operation would be illegal anyway, I couldn't do it. Too risky. The insurance company would never allow it.” “They wouldn't know about it. No one would. But you would learn it was possible.” Salazar stood up again, and met his gaze. “And if the patient died?” “Then we would learn not to persue this line of research any further.” It was tempting. It was so very tempting. He had run out of work to do here that was meaningful. He had his own medical technology company, but they were unable to compete against the existing monopolies in any meaningful way. He did surgeries that there was no known program for the machines to do, and each time lessened the number of possible surgeries for a human to work on in the process as the machines learned from him. He was in all likelihood making the last significant gains in surgery any human would. Taking the final step was almost too much to resist. “I am curious, ambiguous Seniõr, how did you learn about me?” The man changed his expression for the first time. He smiled. “She is already a fan of your products.” Manuel stood in front of the door to the medical ward, running his hand along his smooth chin. The flight to Europa had been long but harmless, and Manuel was itching to begin. He had brought Maya with him, of course, but no one else. This was a sort of secret mission, medical espionage. He found it both funny and exhilarating to be going behind the backs of Earth's leadership. The unmemorable man opened the door, and gestured for him to enter in. Inside was a teenage girl's room, though one decidedly of a girl who didn't leave it often. There were medical apparatuses all over the place, and a large rack of books many of which were on seemingly advanced topics, especially anatomy, chemistry, and biology, a few on famous serial killers, some romance novels, some scifi novels about something called “The Next Generation with a man with a band over his eyes on the cover, and some of those inspirational essay books. The wall had a few paintings and posters, mainly of flowers and pastoral landscapes, but also of a death metal band or two. From the bed, his patient looked up at him. Not an inch of her skin was visible, as she was wearing a soft flexible suit from head to toe, her face an oval mask with a single eye on the right side. Manuel recognized the design well, it was his. A giant exclamation mark appeared on the girl's face, and he saw she was usuing it exactly as intended. The plush-lung was supposed to be a way for people who had incurable debilitating illnesses to live. The suit worked directly off signals from the brain, and made communication and movement possible for people it had been impossible for. Micro motors in the joints aided movement, the suit kept any extra germs out, and helped stabilize and treat any conditions of the patient within. For these patients, Manuel had figured that been trapped inside such a suit would be horrific as well as liberating, for even though it allowed patients with paralysis to walk thanks to its machinery, their expressions were muted by it as well. Thus he'd made the faceplate a screen that could instantly display images the patient wanted, helping them to express emotions and feelings without speaking. For those who had been in need of one, it was considered a miracle. Of course, another company had claimed copyright infringement, and he had to be very careful about how he sold them, even though they were not selling them. Usually the suits had to be 'gifts'. But he was rich, so he didn't care. An image of a happy face appeared on the faceplate. “Mister Salazar!” A voice said from the mask. She waved at him, and began to get out of her bed, the motors clearly doing the work for her limbs. She made her way over to him, and he gladly embraced her. “You must be Sarah, I've heard a lot about you.” A heart appeared on her face. “Probably not everything. The Librarian is always leaves a lot of omissions.” “Omissions?” She made her way back to the bed and sat down. “Well, did he tell you why he wants me fixed up?” Salazar followed her back to the bed. “I was told he had a vested interest in you.” “That's a way of putting it.” She reached over to her side table, and pulled out a tablet, which she pulled a picture up on, and handed to Manuel. The picture was of a 12 year old girl with white hair and eyes so pale blue they could only mean she was blind wearing a bright blue flower print dress. She didn't seem to realize the picture was being taken. A pair of sunglasses were on the coffee table in front of her. She was seated on a couch, next to two very burly men who'd clearly been jacked up on bio modifications. On the coffee table was a giant pile of money, as well as a giant pile of what were clearly bags of drugs. He looked up at her, surprised to say the least. “I started learning how to make drugs at a very young age to make a living as an orphan. Bye the time I was ten, I had cornered the market in my neighborhood. By the time I was twelve, I had my own gang.” She sighed, “Naturally that didn't work out well. I got pretty badly hurt. I would have died if the Librarian hadn't taken me in.” “So you were an ambitious twelve year old.” “He thinks I'm special. I just did what I had to do to eat.” “It looks like you did a bit more than that.” She held his gaze for a minute, or at least appeared to. She wasn't sure what to say to that. “Well, anyways, I wasn't able to move at all until I got this suit. The Librarian had to pay under the table to get a hold of it, but it was for me,” he mouthed the words with her, “a miracle.” “I read about your condition, the deterioration of your bones is pretty severe.” She nodded. “Its not just my bones anymore. Everything is basically turning into fatty tissue in me. I'd be dead right now if I wasn't encased.” Manuel soured: he hadn't been told she'd deteriorated that much. He couldn't just do a skeletal transfer. The wheels in his brain began to turn, then spin, then they formed gyroscopes. “I see. Sarah, how much are you attached to your current body?” Sarah thought a moment, “I really couldn't care less about it. What are you thinking?” “I'm thinking a skeletal transfer is small.” He grinned, “We could do a lot more for you.” She seemed to perk up, the servos in her back straightening her spine. “Do whatever you want. I'm in for it.” He rose, “Then I'll begin planning-” “-But I want to have electronic eyes.” He frowned. “You could have the finest biological eyes in the solar system.” She shook her head, “I was blind when I was born, and the first time I saw was when I was put in this suit. I don't want to learn to see again. Just give me the best sight you can. I don't care if it looks funny.” “One last question Sarah, who is on those books? The “Next Generation” ones.” “That's Geordie! He's blind but can see through an electronic band over his face.” Manuel smiled. It was so important for kids to see people they thought of like themselves on book covers. He walked to the exit, “Then Sarah, I'd say we have ourselves an operation.” The operation was difficult to say the least: everything had to go, nearly. The skin had to be removed to be reattached later, as it was one of the few things worth saving. Her muscles and bones were basically mush, and most of her organs had failed at this point. He replaced all of them. Using a printer, he had manufactured her new body parts using an improved version of her genome, and carefully removed and reattached them to her system. He had to work carefully to assure compatibility. If the body rejected a new part, it would make the whole new system buggy. The new muscles were engineered like machines, and could lift more than an Olympic athlete. Her skeleton was the strongest metal alloy he could find that wouldn't be toxic to her system. Her organs were better than any person's. Her brain and nervous system remained, it was in some ways all that was left of her. In the end he threw out her skin to, after realizing that it just wasn't worth the effort to shape it to her new form, and had a machine print a new one around her. The surgery was exhausting, and took more than one day, during which Sarah remained totally sedated. When it was done, Salazar sealed up the final incision, and started at the person in front of him. She had been trapped in a body that would have died without him, and now he had made her a wholey new one, grown the organs and stitched her together. “Good God.” Manuel said to Maya as she began to dress the unconscious girl in a hospital gown. “I've broken the barrier down Maya. If I can do this, we can save anyone.” “Anyone who can afford it.” Maya said without a hint of playfulness. Manuel clenched his fist. Sarah MacLachlan woke up to feel air on her skin. When was the last time she had felt that? She tried to recall, but it seemed too far away to nail down in any way. Her vision cut on, and she could see the ceiling, raining light down on her from luminescent panels. Raising her hands in front of her, she saw skin and nails. Her arms felt strong. Sitting up, she felt down her body, reaching under the hospital gown to feel her shoulders, her back, her breasts, her stomach, her sides, her hips, her legs, her toes. She felt her face, her cheeks and neck and ears and her new stubbly hair. She let out a shriek of joy, and carefully moved her legs out of the bed. Her touched the tiles-- they felt... cold! What a wonderful sensation, cold. She had been perfectly temperature controlled in her suit. What a joy to be cold! She took a breath and got to her feet. She stood, without any help, without motors pushing her. It was all her own body. She wanted to run! But she was still attached to the iv and didn't want to try to remove it herself. Pushing the iv with one hand across the room, she went to the mirror and stared at her own reflection. This was her face. Her own face, hers forever. Her hair was just stubble, but it looked like it would be brown when it grew out. She thought she'd have the white hair she had as a child, but whatever, she wasn't complaining. But the best touch was her eyes, because she didn't have them. Instead there was a half oval on her face running from temple to temple over where eyes would have been. “Geordie LaForge.” She smiled, and the first real surprise happened. Her teeth, like the rest of her bones, were a shiny metal alloy peeking out from behind her gums. She was shocked, then shocked to see a look of shock on her new face, then she grinned. “I like it. Chrome teeth.” There was a knock on the door, and she said, with her own vocal chords, “Come in!” Manuel entered, with his nurse Maya, and the nondescript man. She scooted over with the iv as fast as she could, and embraced Manuel and Maya each in turn. “You like the new digs?” He said with a smirk. “I love them.” She became keenly aware she was smiling with those shiny teeth. Maybe she'd use that as a moniker. “We know that you'll be working for the Librarian now, probably doing very illegal things, but try to remember what it was like to not have power.” She nodded. “I will. What will you do now?” Manuel's face seemed to take on some sort of operatic tone. “I'm going to remember what it was like to be powerless.” The CEO of Algen-Hoser medical systems rubbed his 400 credit haircut warily. “These numbers aren't good. How on Earth did this happen?” Linda, a vice president, shook her head, “Earth is exactly how it didn't. Nojpeten inc. has been selling heavily off-world at discounted prices, and we suspect has found a partner in the rim who can smuggle the goods to earth and give them a cut of it.” The CEO looked up, “That's illegal!” “We can't prove anything.” “Well buy them out!” She shook her head, “They are privately owned. We can't buy stock in them.” “Unfortunately,” a new voice cut in, “Your investors aren't so faithful as mine.” A man in a gaudy black blazer with red and white stenciling on the breasts walked into the room like he owned it, holding a black briefcase. “Excuse me, you're not allowed in here.” The man pulled up a chair to the CEO's desk, and put his feet on it. “Actually, I think you'll find I am.” He reached into the briefcase and pulled out a pile of documents, which he handed to the CEO, who looked over them bewildered. “Sir?” Linda said. “It says we've been bought out. The majority shareholder is now someone named... Manuel Salazar?” The interloper grinned and stretched back in the chair. “Yes, he now owns it. Really, he owns you. And being that I am him, I own you. So you can call me sir.” The man set the forms down, “You insolent bastard. You can't just walk into my office and buy my company.” Manuel looked around wide eyed. “What? I can't? Why didn't anyone tell me? Well, I suppose then I can't terminate you immediately. And cut your prices to something people here can actually afford.” The CEO stood up, gritting his teeth, “You can leave this room right now!” “No, you can. Do you want me to call security on you?” “This is my office! Manuel smiled, and gently dusted his shoulder off. “Maybe you gringos aren't used to being at the bottom of the food chain, but its too late for you. You're part of Nojpeten inc. You need to accept it, or you can be devoured.” “Linda, get security get-” Linda bit her lip. “No sir, I... I think its time for you to leave. I'm sure mister Salazar has a lot to get done today.” The former CEO's jaw dropped, and Manuel reached over and ate one of the candies on his desk. “Its my pleasure, “ Director Sarcozy began, “to welcome Mr. Salazar to the board of Directors of Centro Systems. Nojpeten Inc., has successfully taken the world stage in medical technology in only a few short years. We're honored to bring him on board today.” Manuel walked up to the front, and shook Ebeneezer Sarcozy's hand. The rest of the room applauded him, and he smiled. A woman in a very stylish black dress really stuck out to him though. He'd certainly heard of her, the illusive Director Ariadne Moore. She was smiling, but Salazar had seen a lot of people give him fake smiles before, and he knew this was a fake smile meant to show it was a fake smile. He could tell they were going to get along great. The meeting with the Directors was about what he expected, generic shadow government stuff. The cocktail party afterward was the really interesting part. “So.” Ariadne said, walking up to him, putting on her sunglasses indoors, “You made it onto the board of Directors. I have to say, I'm surprised.” “I have to say, I'm surprised you look so young.” “You didn't invent medicine you know. You just undercut the people who did.” “That's Capitalism for you.” She gave a polite smile, and he was reminded of Sarah's perfect smile he had crafted for her. “Is it Capitalism? Well, let not get hung up on petty things like the correct definitions of words.” “Oh I wouldn't dare to be petty.” “But if this is Capitalism, then I may be interested in supplying capital to you.” Manuel raised an eyebrow. “Really.” “Don't act so surprised. I'm a business woman. I know when to invest.” Manuel nodded, “Then I have an idea, a project, I think you might be interested in.” * * * * The car bumped again, and Songbird steadied herself against the side with her hand. Manuel looked like he was off somewhere else. Graelyn seemed like she was trying to avoid looking at anyone. Songbird assumed the girl was overwhelmed, which added to the clone theory. Outside the car a father put his arm out in front of his son, stopping him from walking any further towards the military caravan. A day ago, their world had been totally different. Maybe their home had been hit by a shell. Maybe they supported the revolution, maybe they were against it, but they would have to live in a world with it either way now. Two people couldn't tear down the whole world, let alone a caravan. Songbird thought about those people as they kept driving. She'd never thought she'd win this, live in this new world. She thought she'd die clegging as she fired her last bullet into a Centro soldier. But here she was, alive. What would that even mean for her. “What happened to the man in the apartment?” the girl who might have been Graelyn said. “I'm surprised you're curious.” “Of course I'm curious. I want to make sure he's okay.” “You have no right to ask that. He'll be taken care of and given the best treatment.” “You'd better. Him, the cat, and the intern here shouldn't be punished.” “I've spent my whole life protecting the innocent, unlike you.” There was silence following that, and Manuel looked between them like he was waiting for a commercial to end and a drama he liked to continue. The intern looked at the guards, hoping for one of them to be sympathetic towards her. “How did you get here then?” maybe Graelyn asked, “Those people call you the Songbird of Liberty. What does that mean?” She turned back to her. She looked uncomfortable in the cuffs, and she remembered the first time she'd been forced to wear them. She bit back reflecting on it. “It means that I've become a symbol of freedom against the oppressive systems on Earth.” Manuel scoffed at her. “Well I've heard his story, though I'm still annoyed he won't tell the end of it.” “He certainly talked himself up.” “That was the truth, whether you believe me or not is your fault. I have to admit, I'm curious about your story to now.” Alice looked between them. “I suppose we have to fill this drive somehow.” * * * * 2: The Cry of the Songbird Alice held her hands out to have the cuffs removed as her father finished signing the paperwork to get her released. “How you doing Donovan?” “Oh, you know. It’s hard to get work these days.” The guard nodded solemnly. “They'd certainly take you in the police force, regardless of your record--” “You know that isn't happening Lisa.” She nodded without meeting his gaze. “Come on Alice, let’s go.” She hugged her dad, and the two of them stepped out of the chilled police building into the summer sun. “You can't keep doing this Alice, we can't afford to have you locked up... Longer.” She nodded. “I'll be okay dad, I haven't gotten caught doing anything too bad.” He smiled, “Well, your mother would be worried sick to know you were doing anything too bad even if you weren't caught.” She held in a chuckle. “This revolution dad, it needs everyone it can get.” He didn't argue, but he didn't agree. Alice worked a boring job day in and day out, trying desperately to keep it for her family's sake. Her dad wasn't working anymore, thanks to being found out as a radical element and they needed the money more than anything. She walked home from work that day, her feet aching and sore from standing all day at the counter. Her shift didn't leave her much time to eat, but she didn't feel hungry, even though she knew she hadn't taken in anywhere near the calories she was supposed to. She felt wobbly, but she didn't complain, and tried her best to look less tired than she really was. That was when it happened: her day suddenly lost its monotony, lost its simplicity, and she rocketed into an adrenaline fueled awareness. There were two Centro officers dragging a pair of men down the street, their faces against the concrete, scrambling with their hands to try to hold onto something in a desperate and futile attempt to not get arrested. One of the officers lowered a truncheon to one of the men's legs, and it was clear from the reaction that followed that the rod was electrified. Alice's face grew red. Things had been better than this, but they were just spiraling worse and worse. Her fist clenched. She couldn't turn away from this. She couldn't. She didn't know those men, but she knew why they were being arrested: the “Anti-Sodom” law that had passed with a wide margin. Rights were being whittled away right out from under every person living on this street, and they all started at the two gay men being dragged on the concrete like this was still 500 years ago. Alice walked toward the police slowly, and made her way to their right. She didn't make eye contact. The police glanced at her, but ignored her, and she got right beside one. Her bag shifted on her shoulder, and then she swung! The shoulder bag hit the guard right in the side, knocking him off balance, and Alice followed it with her whole torso, clegging hard to make the impact as effective as possible. She heard a rib break. The other officer rushed her with his truncheon, but she ducked it, and reached a hand up beneath his face mask, and slid her fingers into the officer's stunned mouth, right between the cheek and the teeth, and then slid them out. The officer tilted his masked head to the side, started walking towards her, and then became wobbly, then fell over as the pill she'd slid into his mouth dissolved and took effect. Alice grabbed the man's truncheon, and threatened the other officer with it who held her hands up. She grabbed the officer's cuffs, and bound both of them, then ran to the two men, trying to help them up. “You need to get out of here.” “Thank you.” the first man said from his bloody mouth. “No time, you need to run, the police will be back in force, you and your partner need to run.” One helped the other up, and supported him with his arm. She watched them scamper down the alley. She stood alone in the center of the street, baton in hand. She tested the shock button. “Well then, looks like prison it is.” It didn't take long for vehicles to float down from the sky and land around her, men and women dropping out in their best SWAT gear. Aw, they really did care. “Unidentified person, please set the weapon down.” “Unidentified? I'm Alice MacLeod. Would you like me to write it down for you?” There was a brief silence. “Alice MacLeod would you please set the weapon down?” “No. Viva la Revolution.” She was told later she shouldn't have been able to live through the number of Tasers she was hit with. Alice expected to go to prison. But she didn't. Instead she found herself released from custody like usual, with the guards being extra polite to her. “I don't understand.” She said to Lisa, “I attacked corporate officers. That's a corporate offense.” Lisa screwed her mouth up, and then decided to tell her something. “Someone paid for you to leave. The prison system is corporate, and if you want to pay your way out, you can.” Well, yes, everyone knew that. But no one she knew had enough money to pay to get her out of prison. When she was taken to the lobby, there wasn't her dad waiting there for her like usual, but a woman. “Hello Alice. I'm Miranda.” The woman was Hispanic, probably mid twenties, wearing a gray hoodie under a suit jacket, and over a nice top, with slick black pants as well as oddly shaped sunglasses. The hoodie stood out like an elephant entered into a mouse beauty pageant. Miranda smiled at Lisa, and tipped the jailer appropriately. “Hello.” This had to be some sort of cor prate requiting gig. “You must have a lot of questions, but first off, no, this isn't some sort of corporate requiting gig.” She gestured for her to follow, and intrigued and confused, Alice followed her out the door. Miranda led them out of monitoring range of the police station before she spoke again. “Well then, you made quite a mess of things. And while it would have been nice for you to have run your whole prison riot, I'm afraid things aren't going fast enough for my friends.” “Excuse me, who on earth are you?” “That's really none of your business.” “I'm afraid it is, and what do you mean prison riot?” Miranda gave her a sly look. “Do you really think you wouldn't have caused some sort of ruckus while you were in prison? I mean, look, you're a troublemaker. That's why we've been keeping track of you. We want this planet's revolution to get underway quickly and cleanly, without any of that messy in between.” Alice nodded, “So you're part of a revolutionary organization on Earth?” “Not on Earth, but I suppose revolutionary is the correct term. The revolution is inevitable, as is your victory.” “I'm glad you have such confidence in the cause.” “I have a certainty in it. But regardless, I can enable you to make this war short. Shorter than anyone thinks it will be. It will still take months, but not years.” “That's impossible. I'm an idealist but Centro is so dug in...” Miranda put a finger to Alice's lips. “Shh. Think bigger. What if I told you I could get you the codes to all of Centro's automated defense systems. You could shut them off. Appropriate them. Drop their drones from the sky. Turn off the camera system that lines the entire city.” “That's impossible.” Alice laughed, this was insane. “Then explain that.” Miranda pointed at the cameras on the street. They had all turned to face the sky. “I don't...” “We're not being watched. And you don't have to be. We have made the arrangements.” Miranda held out an old stye paper business card. On one side was a symbol of half a sun and half a crecent moon merged together, the sun's rays somehow seeming the twins of the moon's horns. On the other side was a post office box number with a key code beneath it. “In that box is everything you need to overthrow the planetary system. You can only access it once, and the codes will be the codes for that week. Don't blow your opportunity.” Miranda took off her suit jacket and threw it at Alice, who caught it. It was a nice suit jacket. She turned and began to walk away, the back of the hoodie showing the progression of a sun into a moon through subtle metamorphosis. “Why should I trust you?” Miranda shrugged. “I don't care if you trust me. Fight a decade long war and decimate the planet. Your call.” Miranda turned into an alley, and Alice bolted after her, but she wasn't in the alley when she reached it. She looked down at the thin piece of cardboard. If this was real... She put on Miranda's suit jacket, and slipped the card into her pocket. If it was real it meant the world. It had taken a lot of persuading, a lot of yelling matches with different leaders over encrypted phone calls, but it was happening. Or would be, if this was real. She'd staked this all on trust in a stranger. But if it was real, it was an opportunity she couldn't pass up. A once in a lifetime chance. If it wasn't real then Miranda was right, Alice would fight that ten year war. But... If she could avoid that. Turn the world over with minimal bloodshed. Alice inhaled, and held her breath as she walked towards the post office boxes, and held it still as she tapped the code into it. “Okay, be real... Be real.” She reached inside, and found a small grey box with that same half moon half sun image on it. Pulling it out, she turned it over and over in her hands. There was a single hole in it: a standard computer connector port. It seemed pretty obvious how the thing had to work. Stuffing it inside her bag, she hurried outside. The box carried a heavy weight in her bag, and it drug her down. It was like she was carrying enough gold to buy the world from the hands of the corporate overlords she'd been fighting her whole life. She went back to her family's apartment, and got ready to make the call. General Yul Hammontree had fought against Mars, he had been there during the great disaster there that ended the rebellion in Mars' favor. Yul had been at Venus during the disaster of the failed base there, and barely escaped with his life. But nothing prepared him for that Tuesday. Monday had been boring, he only remembered that he'd eaten a cheese sandwich during it, but Tuesday, oh, he'd never forget Tuesday. Pacing the room things seemed to be going in order for the first few hours of the day, and then... Then he noticed something. “Corporal Talzin, bring up screen 51.” The Corporal did as ordered. He watched the footage. It was a street filled with people bustling through it. “Corporal, bring up monday's footage, same time.” The Corporal did. They were the same. It was the same footage. The General yowled, and ran to the alert station, he jammed his finger at the touch screen, but nothing happened. “What is going on?” “I've lost control of my station sir!” Someone yelled, and then more voices joined in a chorus of it. “We can't lose London, someone get in touch with the drone center--” Then he heard several shots, and turned to see a woman, flanked by a swarm of raggedy rebel soldiers walking into his command center, holding a battle rife. “I'm afraid its too late for you. You know your people outside have been yelling into their communicators for half an hour while we fought our way in. You might want to put your weapons down on the floor. Several people did. Several tried to draw theirs. The latter were shot with cunning efficiency. “Who do you think you are?” “Alice MacLeod of the World Revolutionary Council. Who are you?” “GENERAL Yul Hammontree. Now young lady you'll stand down.” “The people are singing for liberty General, now get out of my way.” He puffed his chest out, and straightened his back. “I'd rather die.” She shot him in the leg. “Lets compromise.” She stepped over him and took out the box from her bag. They'd used it to break into the base, and it had done gloriously. But now... Now was the real test. She plugged into the console, and the screens in the room all lit up with that same sun/moon symbol. “Hello, my name is Alistair.” The box crooned through the speakers, “Could you please supply me with your name and user name.” “Alice MacLeod.” She said, kicking the General's hand away from the holstered gun he was reaching for and grabbing it herself. “User name....” She looked around the room. She used to sing in the tavern her Dad's friends met up in. They said her voice was pretty as a Nightingale, a wonderful Songbird. Well, it was her friend Jack who called her that first. She smiled at him, he was nervously holding a gun towards the crouched room of technicians. “Call me Songbird.” The screens displayed a black and white image of a songbird, and Alastair spoke again, “Alright then Songbird, I am at your command.” She smiled, “They always said I'd set the world on fire. Lets get this started. From one bird to another, lets take theirs out of the sky.” For hundreds of years the world had been monitored by a linked system of satilites and drones. For hundreds of years everyone knew that everything they said was being recorderd. And then, on a Tuesday, the drones fell from the sky. Next, the cities began to fall, and the people at the top who had feasted on the fruits of those beneath them came tumbling down, as it turned out, often fairly literally as Alice took a predilection towards executing CEO's by hanging them out of windows. The prison labor camps were the next thing she freed. The people there, being worked to death for having wrong ideas, or wrong lifestyles cheered her as she liberated each camp. Their bodies thin and bruised, their cries weak. She got out of her vehicle and hugged them, touched their hands, talked to them. Soon they began to call her the Songbird, and it stuck. City by city fell, and it became clear the world would fall far quicker than the ten year war they had anticipated. Then she wen to Mexico city. Jack was by her side of course, he always was, as the hovering craft flew towards the city. “So, Alice, I was thinking... When this is over...” “There will be a lot of clean up work. We'll have to be really on top of the left over Centro elements.” “No um, Alice, I mean, I was thinking about us.” She checked her rifle, it was in perfect order. “About us what?” “Alice, you know how I feel about you.” She sighed. “Jack, I'm not interested in you. We've been through this.” She counted a moment in her head. “Nine times, actually. Well, maybe ten. Not sure if that counted.” “Okay but, when the war is over...” “Jack! I'm not interested in you. I don't want romance. I'm an aromantic asexual. You know what that means right?” “Yeah, but I thought it might change when the war is over.” Alice scooted away from him a bit. “I'm not who you want me to be Jack. I'm sorry.” The hovercraft landed, and they stormed off. She raised her rifle and tried to get back into the mindset she needed. The first Centro soldier popped up, and she was fast on the trigger, capping him right in the forehead before he could level his gun. The gunfire moved into full force, and she lost track of herself. She shot through the smoke, diving over barricades and obstacles, slamming her rifle butt into the jaws of enemies who slipped through the smoke, and leveling again quickly to take shots at those far away. She was made for this, and she was merciless, not out of anger but out of precision. Her violence was exact, and total. Her heart raced as she ran through, and shot a soldier trying to close a side door into the base before he could, slipping through right after him. She had forgotten that there was still a battle behind her as she stormed the hallway, not that there were many people in it. She shot those who opposed her, and tied up those who surrendered. The rest of her troops made it into the building, and she stood in the cleared space, leaving the rebels who saw her with the bold and ludicrous impression she could have done this herself. “Is the outside secure?” “Yes ma'am!” said a burly woman with vitiligo. “Call me Alice. And good, what's your name soldier?” “Chantelle ma'am.” Alice nodded. “Lets move out then.” The base was nearly empty, eerily. She'd expected more resistance. They walked through darkened barracks, and empty mess halls, till they reached a thick sealed door. Alice looked at Trevon, their resident door opener, who went to work on the lock with quick skill, and the aperture opened to reveal a room filled with several people in lab coats trying desperately to pry open a door. “We need to get the back up hard drive wiped! Open it!” One yelled. “The bomb will take care of it lets just get out of here!” Another yelled back. “Can't you tell its meant to survive the explosion open it or-” “Or what?” Alice said, striding into the room. The scientists huddled together. “Where is the bomb?” It was an order, and the people knew it. “Its... In the main factory floor.” One of them said, pointing towards another door. Alice strode confidently towards it, opened the door, and walked through. There was a moment where no one could see Alice, and the room was silent. Then she walked back into the room, her rifle hanging loosely from her hand, then clattering to the floor. She shook gently, her eyes wide and full of lines of red. She nearly stumbled over and put her arm against the wall. “Alice what-” Jack began, but she interrupted him. She thew up, keeling over to her knees, still shaking. Jack hurried over and put a hand on her. “What's wrong?” She looked up, her eyes boiling over, tears running down her face, and her hand finding the handle of the gun properly again. “You. You did that.” She looked at the scientists. “I.. How could you I...” She began gagging again, and threw up a second time. She staggered up and pointed the gun at them. “Hold up Alice, don't do anything hasty.” “No this isn't hasty. This—Jack you don't want to see what's in there I promise you.” “There's nothing that could provoke you killing these people.” She looked at him like she had seen hell. And he shook his head and walked towards the door. “Jack, don't go in there. I promise you, you can't unsee that. Don't.” He ignored her. He walked in. All they heard for the next two minutes was him screaming. He walked back in, even more shaken than Alice had been. He looked at her. “Do it.” He muttered. “Do it.” “We were just following Graelyn Scythes orders!” One of them yelled, “Please!” “Just following orders?” Songbird's voice was loud enough to echo through the building. “JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS? There is no order that could justify that.” There were seven scientists in the room. Alice's hands shook so much she used ten bullets, but the effect was the same. Standing over their corpses, she motioned for Trevon to go in and disarm the bomb. “I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see that.” He nodded. He needed her help in the end do to shaking himself. But the bomb was disarmed. As they flew back, Songbird stared at the giant complex, the complex she never ever wanted to see again. She only had one thought that she said outloud during the trip back. “I'm going to kill Graelyn Scythes.” No one argued it. * * * * Graelyn stared at Alice, her hands were shaking. Her jaw trembled. She fingered the rather banged up cat pin on her lapel, but couldn't get a grip on it. “What did you see in there.” “You know.” “I don't know!” “YOU KNOW.” Alice yelled. “You can't tell me if you're really Graelyn Scythes you don't know what was behind that door and the only reason you're not dead yet is we don't know and the WRC is starting to cool down enough they want trials instead of battlefield executions. That and your friend made a strong case for your survival.” “Arch?” She asked, full of hope. “Yes. You can thank him later. If you're a brainwashed victim in all this, some poor confused clone, or... What he said you were in that elaborate story of his...” “What did he say you were?” Manuel asked. “The truth, I hope.” “He said you were from an alternate reality. Balderdash, of course.” “Ma'am, should you really be talking so much with the prisoners?” A woman with vitiligo skin said. “Its alright Chantelle. I have leeway on this matter. The WRC is just as curious as we are. “Well if we're telling our stories, what about you Intern?” She shook her head, “I don't want to say anything I shouldn't. Get family in trouble.” “Of course. How about you, Scythes? What kind of a last name is Scythes anyways, it sounds made up.” “Its my real last name.” “So then Graelyn,” Songbird interjected, “How did you get here?” “Its... A long story.” “Its still a long ride. We have time. Start from the beginning.” “The beginning?” She knew where the story really began, but she didn't want to start there. She thought she'd begin somewhere easier to talk about, but when she started talking things spilled out she hadn't intended, and she kept talking. As beginnings go, it wasn't one she would write down. * * * * 3: Happy Birthday Graelyn Scythes Graelyn shifted her hand to swirl the beaker, holding it up to her eyes. It wasn't exactly reacting like it was supposed to, which was curious. The lack of reaction was just as interesting as getting one si-- “Graelyn didn't you say you had to be somewhere at 7?” She turned to look at the person speaking, it was Professor Hanson. “Uh, yes I've got a date with Ashlyn then.” “You probably want to get ready to go its a quarter till.” Shit, she was right and she'd late no matter what at this point. She jotted down the lack of reaction, cleaned up, took off her lab coat, and hustled out the door to the bus stop, checking the time on her phone over and over. The bus arrived a tiny bit late, and she bustled onto it, finding the perfect seat on it. The city rushed by the window, and she closed her eyes as the bus jostled her against the window. Graelyn ran into the diner a fifteen minutes late, looking past the greeter for Ashlyn, who was sitting alone at a table for two looking boredly at her phone. Graelyn pointed to the table and the greeter let her through. She sat down, and hoped she looked decent. “You're late.” Ashlyn said, scrolling through her phone. “Sorry, I got caught up at work. I was testing reactions to a compound they've been developing at the lab for the team there-” Ashlyn put the phone in her pocket and gave Graelyn a look that said “shut up.” “Look Graelyn, we need to talk.” “Okay, well, I'm here so go ahead.” “We can't keep doing this.” Graelyn was silent for a moment. “If you mean me being late, I can set an alarm next time or...” “No Graelyn. That's just a symptom. You forgetting to take enough time to set an alarm to remember our dates is a symptom. Honestly, why are you even in this relationship?” They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Graelyn rubbed her fingers together under the table. The waiter came by, and each of them ordered something, which felt like more commitment than was prudent with how things were going. “Of course I want to be in a relationship with you, I dumped Petyr so we could date.” “Yes, and when you dumped Petyr he told me to watch out for you because would act like you cared about people more than you did so they wouldn't leave you. You're fifteen Graelyn, you don't need to hold onto this like its going to be forever if you don't want it to be. I'm seventeen and I don't have to put up with this. Also you dodged the “why?” question.” Graelyn squirmed in her seat she felt her face turning red, and her hands becoming ice. “We have so much planned out together. Getting an apartment together when you go back to London, supporting each other.” Ashlyn pursed her lips. Her shoulder length brown hair swaying back and forth as she leaned in. She always wore such nice outfits, summer dresses or skirts and sweaters. A few times suits, but the way she preferred skirts and dresses to pants was one of the things that had drawn them together in the first place. “We do have a lot planned out. And that's why this is important, cause I'm not going through with a plan with someone who is only half involved in it. You're always late, you're nearly always distracted, when we are-” “Not so loud!” Graelyn said glancing around as though anyone had been listening. “Okay, quieter! Its like you're doing calculations in your head!” “...But yeah I am doing calculations in my head. There's nothing wrong with that.” “Did you ever think I might want more than you're giving me back? You always hold part of yourself back. You listen, but you don't talk about yourself, just your work. And who spends all their time at a lab at fifteen? I mean, I started dating you because you seemed a lot more mature than you are, you're two grades up in school and doing lab work, at fifteen. That's impressive, it really is, and I thought there would be more to you than that, but what else is there outside of it? Its like you were never a child.” “I love music.” Graelyn said, her voice cracking, “and cats.” there was a pause, “and you.” “Great, three things. I won't be here forever, I'm going back London when the summer starts, and I keep asking myself, will I miss you, will you miss me, or is the fact that you can move in with me just convenient for you?” Graelyn's stomach churned, “Well, yes its convenient, but...” She struggled to find the words. “I...” Ashlyn looked at her sadly. Their food came. “We may as well enjoy one last meal together. Dig in.” “Last? So, you're breaking up with me? That's it?” Graelyn's face drained of all its color. Her muscles retreated and she was only alive by the sign of her breath. “I, look, I didn't want it to go this way, but it has to. I can't keep doing this Graelyn. You're not my only option you know.” “How much does it hurt?” Graelyn asked. “Excuse me?” “I need to know how much it hurts, you. Right now.” Ashlyn looked over her face, it was strangely impassive. “To break up with you?” “Yes.” “Why would you ask me that?” Graelyn shrugged. “I want to know.” “It hurts a lot, for the record.” Graelyn nodded. The gears were turning in Graelyn's head. “I'm very disappointed this didn't work out. I'll have to take other measures.” “Other measures?” “The plan has to change.” “The plan? That's what I was to you, a plan? You just needed me around for some benefit?” “That's why we keep other people around. For their benefits. That's what a relationship is.” “No we don't! Not normal people. Normal people think about how they care about other people, or their feelings.” “I do care about you. I did think about your feelings, I asked how much this hurt you.” “Like I'm an experiment. I didn't think when I'd break up with you you'd find a way to break my heart even more.” Graelyn shrugged. “You can never achieve anything if you aren't willing to cut out your own heart. You can never advance unless you sacrifice what matters to you. You cut me out of your chest first. I don't benefit you anymore. And I can respect your calculation.” “You sometimes barely talk like you're human. I didn't calculate leaving you.” Graelyn looked down at her plate. “I'm good at calculation. I notice things. I just didn't want to believe them. But that's life, cutting things out, I should have expected it. I've been trying, I really have. You've always made me feel so free. But I can see I had things scrambled. Still, I notice things. So... Is there someone else?” Ashlyn looked awkward. She couldn't meet her gaze and stared off into another table's candle flame. “Oh.” Graelyn said. Graelyn had met Ashlyn when she had gotten bumped up another grade at the start of the school year. She was a foreign exchange student from London, or maybe Blackpool, she said both of them at various points, and Graelyn was instantly attracted to her. She had a sort of wide round face that was both beautiful and adorable, and she was always making funny quips. She'd mastered Russian in a flash, and was already making terrible puns. Graelyn and her began talking about each other's clothes, a topic Graelyn usually couldn't care less about but which suddenly took on a whole new dimension with her. Graelyn definitely thought she was hot, but there wasn't a romantic spark. She had only rarely felt that, for people she'd known a very long time, like Petyr, but Ashlyn was so much more interesting than Petyr, whose idea of a fun date was going somewhere and walking around for two hours, she decided it didn't matter. Maybe if she waited, the spark would come. She waited, and waited, and it never came. It occurred to her around this time that she could be attracted to anyone if they had enough charm or looks, so she was definitely Pansexual, but she had to be DemiRomantic, only attracted to people she'd developed an emotional connection to. She dumped Petyr for Ashlyn, and they seemed mostly happy together. But Ashlyn was right, she couldn't open up to her, she kept trying, but she couldn't. It didn't mean she didn't care, she wasn't sure what it meant. “So who is it?” “I didn't want you to find out this way.” “All that stuff about what I've been doing, and you're telling me you found someone else. I may be a terrible girlfriend but at least I'm a loyal one. Who is it?” “Just hold your hand still.” “I'm trying.” Graelyn looked down as the machine began to carefully treat her nails. Ashlyn laughed from the chair next to the other machine, “Its just a manicure, you said you were cool with getting one when we were getting coffee.” “It seemed like a good idea then.” The needles and lasers an other devices went to work layering color and detail onto her nails, when a holographic popup appeared. “Oh not that, use your left hand, not the one being worked on right now, to close it.” Graelyn read the holo display. “It says it can put a hard drive into the paint on my nail.” “Yeah, its a cheap trick. Handy I guess. Handy, yeah?” Graelyn rolled her eyes. “Right, well... Nothing subdermal or permanent right?” Ashlyn shook her head. Graelyn tapped yes, and the machine got right back to work. When they had finished, their nails were short, bold, and beautiful, layered in carefully chosen colors and shades. “Ooo, yours are very nice. You got an ocean pattern.” “I like the ocean.” She said plainly. “Clearly. Look at mine!” Graelyn held her hand gently and examined the stylized blinking eyes on her fingernails. “They move!” “That shouldn't surprise you, that's not that fancy.” Graelyn threaded her fingers through her own and smiled. “I like them.” She smiled back and running her fingers through Graelyn's hair, kissed her. They kissed deeper, and several adults walked past rolling their eyes as they are wont to do at teenagers Graelyn felt Ashlyn working at the back of her head, and then her hair dropping down from her pony tail. She pulled back. “What was that about?” “Just a subtle message to let your hair down once in a while.” She blushed, and leaned back in for another kiss. “...Marilyn.” “Marilyn.” Graelyn stood up. “You're dating another Lyn? Seriously?” “Lyn and Lyn!” Graelyn held up the paper she'd drawn the words on sloppily. “Like a duo!” “Well, definitely a duo, but I think we can do better than that for a couple name.” Ashlyn gestured for the pad of paper, and Graelyn handed it to her. She turned to a new page, and scooted over on the bed so Graelyn couldn't see it. Graelyn glanced back over at her homework. “Lyn squared!” Ashlyn said holding up the paper, which of course had “Lyn^2” written on it. Graelyn grinned, picking up her homework. “Its perfect.” “We should make t-shirts.” Graelyn lowered her homework slightly. “My goodness we should.” “That was our thing, Lyn^2...” She sat down, collecting herself. “You're giving her one of the spare shirts aren't you.” “No... No I wouldn't do that.” “You're lying.” The waiter refilled their glasses. “Okay maybe I am, but...” Graelyn slumped down, took off her glasses, and began rubbing her eyes. “Oh no, no no no, no I've really hurt you I'm sorry I really didn't mean--.” Ashlyn reached out a hand nervously. “Its just.... I... You couldn't have waited three days?” “Whats... Whats in three days?” “My birthday.” Ashlyn looked paralyzed. “Oh.” “Don't worry about it,” Graelyn said calmly, “it was clearly my mistake.” Graelyn pulled the cheap ring on the necklace from over her head, and set it on the table. “I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you. I hope she likes this.” “Graelyn...” She got up, paid at the counter, and went out the door. * * * * Graelyn got back into the house from work, she'd been dong the usual lab work: pipeting, filling out other people's paperwork, cleaning the equipment. She had texted a few people, but no one had responded. That was okay. She'd find a way to make today work. As she stepped into the living room, her mother was there, wearing a loose fitting blouse and beige slacks. “And where have you been.” It wasn't really said like a question, so Graelyn didn't answer. She just tried to walk past. An arm reached out in front of her. “No, not today, you're going to stay in here and talk to me.” She was tired of talks this week. “Could I please just go to my room Mom...” “No. I've had enough of 'your room' I went in there today—” “You went in my room?” Graelyn's eyes went wide. She pulled her phone out of her bag, tapped the screen carefully, then set it on the mantle. “Yes, I went into the room I gave you, and guess what I found?” “What did you find?” Her mother reached down to the table and picked up several internship fliers. “What did I find? I found these. Fliers for internships outside of Moscow. They weren't there when I checked your room yesterday.” “I can go where I want.” “You're just a teenager. What do you know about anything? Are you going to go off and explore the world like some useless hippee? You are staying right here, and you're going to be useful. You've never been as driven as your sister, or as smart as your brother, but I'm not going to let you be a total loss.” Graelyn gritted her teeth. “You mean like Xandra. Maybe I'd like to be Xandra-” Her mother glared at her, and Graelyn's voice caught in her throat. “You're not going anywhere, and that's final. You're staying here, and if you try to leave, I'm calling the police on you. And you're not seeing that... 'Girlfriend' of yours anymore. Ah yes, you thought you could keep that from me to. Many may have accepted that immoral bullshit centuries ago but us Scythes are better than that.” “Well you got your wish she dumped me three days ago.” Graelyn muttered. “Good. Then you won't be mad I burned everything with her name on it.” Graelyn gasped. She'd still held the Lyn^2 shirt while she'd slept this week, not that she'd ever let Ashlyn know that. “You burned my things?” “Yes. And I'm going to be keeping a much tighter leash on you, you little slut. I'll be picking you up when you finish your shifts now so you don't get up to anything. Understood?” “Yes.” “Yes?” “Yes ma'am.” “Good. I'm glad we understand each other. I thought you might amount to something Graelyn.” She shook her head, “I really did. But you're just as much a disappointment as Xandra. Maybe we should set your sights lower, I don't think you can get into the programs I was expecting you to. You've put such a burden on me, I've worked so hard for you. How could you hurt me like this? My own daughter. I bet Andrei wouldn't have put us through this. It probably would have been better if you'd done a better job when you were 9.” Graelyn had been making the slow shuffle back towards her room, ready to grab her phone and leave. But that stopped her. She gripped the edge of the mantle tight, her hands shaking. She'd been ready to give up. She had been. “What did you say?” “You know exactly what I said.” Graelyn began shaking uncontrollably, her teeth clenched together, she tried desperately to keep herself calm but it wasn't working. “H-h-h,” she tried to breathe but it hurt to, “h-how dare y-you. How dare you!” “How dare me?” Her mother reared on her, putting her strong hands on her and spinning her around like a beanpole. “HOW DARE ME?” “S-s-see,” Graelyn stuttered through her fear, “this is why d-dad left.” Her mother's eyes turned into fireballs, and she felt the hands leave her sides. Her mother's breathing was heavy, and deep. “W-” Graelyn began, but whatever it was was never said. The blow came suddenly. Like a thunderclap. For a second Graelyn saw her mother's hand in the air and began the instinctive flinch, but the blows usually came where no one could see them. Her back, her chest, her sides. The slap hit her right on the side of the face. Not a light slap, but one with the weight of a punch. Her ear rang, her cheek burned like it had been splashed with fire. She tried to right herself, but another slap hit the other cheek and she lost her footing. Then again. She couldn't feel her glasses anymore, they must have fallen off, and she couldn't hear what her mother yelled through the ringing in her ears, just that there was yelling. She could barely see, everything looked cloudy, and she realized that she wasn't standing up anymore. A foot hit her in the ribs, and she cried out. “Mom, please.” She managed to whimper. But the foot came again. Then there was nothing, and she felt a hand around her pony tail. For a second she imagined Ashlyn had come to rescue her, but these were not those fingers, and they pulled up her whole body weight by her hair. She wobbled, and managed to stand, before another blow landed on her face. She rose again, hiding her own face with her hands. She held back her tears with years of practice. “You will never talk to me like that again young lady. Never.” Graelyn nodded. “Look at me when I'm talking to you!” She widened her fingers so her right eye was looking at her but not her left. “That is the last outburst I will ever hear from you. You should be grateful I was this nice to you. You got lucky today young lady.” Graelyn nodded again. “Yes, I did.” “Good.” “You're an idiot.” Her mother's face grew red, building up for the next explosion. “I'm a what.” “Y-you're an idiot.” Graelyn turned her face away so she couldn't see the right half of it, and pointed with her right hand at the mantle where her phone sat, gently recording the whole event. She returned her hand to her face. “You shouldn't touch it. Its already uploaded and backed up.” Graelyn said, somewhat louder. “You... You...” her mother's temper seemed to ebb, rise and fall, and then, “Graelyn, sweetheart.” She wrapped her arms around her, pulling her hand covered face against her shoulder. “You know I didn't mean all that. I just get worked up sometimes, maybe we can loosen some things, get you more pocket money so you don't have to work as much... You know I love you right? I love you so much.” She stroked the back of her head like a lion pawing at a gazelle carcass. “We'll work something out, mommy just doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. You know that right?” Graelyn began to nod into her shoulder, like she always did, but then forced out it out of her throat, with all her courage, with all her strength, with everything she could ever find in herself, she made her mouth say a word. “No.” “What did you say?” “I said no. I said no. I said no.” She backed out of the hug, still hiding her face. “I said no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” “You don't know what you're saying, just sit down and-” She threw her hands out to her sides, freeing her face. “I know what I said. I'm leaving. I'm leaving and you're not stopping me. I'm going into my room, getting Mr. Sprinkles and my books and I am walking out that door and never coming back. And the next time you'll see me I'll be in court getting an emancipation from you. I'm not your goddamn toy anymore.” Her mother stood there stunned, then seemed to think of something to say, “...Look how strong you are, my baby girl has finally-” “I'm not hearing this! Stop it.” Graelyn made her way to the mantle, and fumbled for her glasses on the floor. They were cracked in the left lens. She put them back on, and grabbed her phone. She went into her room, and shoved anything she cared about into a backpack and a bag, then hugged Mr. Sprinkles and put him into his carrying case. She walked through the living room and out the door keeping a dead stare at the exit and ignoring the other person in the house. Her face ached, her side ached, but the sunlight felt different on her skin, either because she was free or because of the aching she wasn't sure. She looked up at that light like it was something new. “Happy Birthday to me.” Ashlyn and Marilyn sat in their matching Lyn^2 t-shirts on the couch when the doorbell rang. “Could you get that Ashlyn?” Her host mom yelled. Ashlyn made her way over to the door and opened it. There, with a bruised face, black eye, and cracked glasses was Graelyn Scythes. “Hey.” Graelyn said. “Hey.” Ashlyn replied. “I know this isn't a good time, but could I ask a favor of you?” A voice called from upstairs, “Who is it?” “Graelyn.” Ashlyn said. There were the loud stomps of feet coming down the stairs. “You can tell that no good-” Ashlyn's host mom Petra stopped as soon as she saw Graelyn on the doorstop. “Oh my God.” “I was just wondering if you could take in Mr. Sprinkles for a bit. I got kicked out of my mom's house.” Petra ran towards the door and pulled Graelyn in, “What on earth happened to you?” Graelyn looked down at the floor, and setting the bag and catbox down, covered her face. Petra hugged her, and Graelyn took her hands away from her face and returned the hug. “Ashlyn, you go make some tea for our guest.” Ashlyn nodded and ran off. Graelyn couldn't make herself cry. She tried. She felt like if there was a time she would, it was now. She began to wonder if she'd forgotten how. Graelyn's therapist had been called, who had called a lawyer, and they had come over within the hour and talked to Graelyn. The case was solid as a brick wall. She'd get her emancipation, and the Lawyer was fairly certain she could get her a private room in a Centro corporate housing building for free. It all sounded perfectly good. Marilyn and Ashlyn had both been really nice, if awkward, as had Petra. She'd expected them to send her away. She had just thought it was worth the chance they could take the cat in. “You're sleeping here, we have a spare futon in the basement.” Petra ordered, Graelyn shook her head. “I can sleep on the floor in the lab, its 24 hours and there aren't many people there at night.” Petra looked at her, like what she was saying was not a normal thing to say. Graelyn was confused. “Its really not a problem. I'm sure we'd all like to have you here.” “I'm not so sure about that.” Petra put a gentle hand on her shoulder, it felt warm in a way hands rarely did. “Ashlyn and Marilyn are fine with it, and I checked with my wife, she is to.” Graelyn smiled. “Thank you.” She couldn't think of anything else to say. “I don't actually know you guys very well. I don't want to be a burden.” “You're not. There should be more fifteen-year-olds around this house anyways.” “I'm sixteen,” Graelyn said, “and let me tell you, its been a weird birthday.” * * * * “...And then the door exploded in and you arrested me.” Graelyn said. Everyone was silent. The car bumped. “That's quite the story.” Alice said, Graelyn couldn't read her. “Was it really necessary to tell us about the dancing?” “I thought it was cheerful. Wasn't it cheerful?” “After something like that, yeah, I suppose so. You sang the whole song though.” “Did I? Sorry.” Graelyn put her hands on her lap. “So you're not... Not really Director Scythes?” The Intern asked, “But... You're still Graelyn Scythes?” “From another universe. I'm an Intern myself at the moment. Er, was.” “So what's the verdict, Seniorita, believe her?” Manuel asked. Alice was impassive. “We're almost at our stop, ma'am.” “Alice.” “Yes, Alice.” The vehicle pulled into a prison, where the doors were opened by a group of revolutionaries. Waiting outside the vehicle were more soldiers, and under careful watch, Archimedes. “Arch!” Graelyn yelled, only to be shouted down by a soldier. They were ran out into the yard, where Manuel was all smiles, and Arch stared at him. No one could see his expression. No one could tell he was staring as Songbird left the vehicle to cheer and a standing ovation, as the people clapped her on the shoulders and began singing “The Internationale”. No one noticed his fist clench as he stared at Manuel Salazar. No one realized the rage that was boiling inside him, and how much it was going to take to bottle it up. * * * * 4: A Moment Had Passed, But We Never Forgot “Hello, are you folks there?” Arch ran up to the com, along with the other children, who mobbed the com in joy, each pressing the button to greet their only visitor. The door opened up after decontamination, and the masked children tackled the man in hugs. “Salazar,” said the Governor of Ahnerabe station from behind his mask, “I'm very sorry for the improper greeting, Salazar smiled back in reply. “Its no problem! No problem.” None of them were used to him showing his face, and he looked embarrassed as he remembered, and covered his own up with a mask from a wall mount. “Sorry, I always forget.” “How is Earth?” Salazar shook his head. “Its still a ruin. I've been working with the survivors to try to get something to grow outdoors, but the soil is so poisoned we cannot yet.” Salazar sighed, and wiped a tear from behind his mask. “Your station will be our salvation I'm sure, and these children its future.” He ruffled the top of one of the fully enclosed children. They were all of course, encased. Everyone was, except those poor people on Earth, and there were only a handful of them left. When Salazar died, they wouldn't ever get another visitor. Salazar looked down at the tiny Arch, who like the other children was displaying a bit red heart icon on his face. “Do you trust me children?” The all exclaimed they did, and he opened a bag full of toys they began to loot through. “You can always trust me.” * * * * Arch stared. And stared, until he was ushered to follow them into the building. But his fist stayed clenched and he muttered, “Do you trust me?” Written by James Wylder, Illustrated by Annie Zhu Note: The audio version of this chapter is slightly delayed. Apologies. -Jim This chapter is also available as an audio podcast from the Southgate Media Group. http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawnspodcast You can also subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ Chapter 8: Feline InhibitionsIts Undoubtable, I love my Cat
Topic: What is Most Important to You? (Be Creative!) Graelie Scythes Mrs. Andropov's Class Language Arts Age 9 Grade: A- Teacher's note: Graelie, please stay on topic. While I understand your therapist is encouraging you to be more expressive of your feelings, next time try not to go off on so many tangents. “The only escape from the miseries of life are music and cats.” -Albert Schweitzer No one wanted me to have a cat, not my mother, or my father. But after the incident, my therapist made them. Indubitably, this was not the finest of circumstances for me to receive a cat, but nevertheless, I received one. His name is Mr. Sprinkles, which was also not what anyone wanted me to name him. My mother said I should name him after someone heroic and respectable, like Vladimir Putin, or Ayn Rand, or Josef Stalin. My father stayed silent on the matter. But I did not budge. I wanted my cat to be my cat. I love my cat. He is very fuzzy, and purrs when he sits on my lap. His jaws have been tempered by evolution to make him a natural predator, and his teeth are like needles. His claws have a natural retraction function, so they become nearly invisible beneath his fur. His body structure enables him to control his weight when falling to allow minimal damage to his structure when falling. He likes to listen to Mozart with me! He likes to eat fish! He is a carnivore, and has long whiskers. He is my best friend and I love him very much. Some people say that cats are only looking out for themselves, and this makes them unkind. This is a lie, and lying is bad, unless you are lying to someone for their own good. Like if they are going to put their hand on a hot stove and you said, “don't put your hand on that stove!” and they said, “No that stove is not hot I do not believe you, uninformed child,” and so you said, “That stove is very dirty I cooked raw meat on it and used it as a cutting board and if you put your hand on it you will catch an easily preventable illness.” so they would stop, that would be okay. But lying about cats not being nice is bad. Cats look after themselves, which is a kindness. If more people would look after themselves, the world would be a better place after all. Mother always says that I can't count on anyone except myself, and if I leech off other people and don't do what I'm supposed to, I will be not only a burden on society, but be betraying my own potential. I do not want to betray my own potential, and I am scared of that. I am very scared I will amount to nothing. I am already nine years old and I have not made any significant scientific breakthroughs. I can already tell I am a failure. Mr. Sprinkles does not care that I am not living up to my potential however. He always comes and rubs on my leg when I get home from school. I have started wearing more skirts so I can feel his fur on my calves for just this reason. He is the only person who doesn't judge me. I love my cat. * * * * * Graelyn waited for the elevator to finish rising, and stepped into a dark hallway. The light flickered for a second, and then failed. “I'm sorry Director Scythes, we appear-pear-pear to b-b-be having technical difficulties.” “Its alright.” Graelyn said, and pulled out her small tablet computer from her pocket. The screen was still repairing itself, but it seemed to be working enough to use as a flashlight. She shone it around, and took in the luxurious hall. The carpet was so thick and lush you could fall asleep on it, the walls had gold leaf in the artworks, and the lights were all dead. As she waved the light around, she saw a hand raise in front of a set of eyes in the shadows. She took a step back. “Director Scythes?” A trembling voice asked. “Who's there?” She someone get up and edge closer to her. It was a girl, about her own age, her hair in neat cornrows, her dark skin still wet under the eyes from crying. She was wearing fairly similar business clothes to Graelyn, except she had a better eye for style and could manage heels better. “I'm, uh, the new intern. I've been with you since last tuesday, Director.” The girl stopped, she looked scared. “What's wrong?” Graelyn looked behind her, as though a swarm of revolutionaries was creeping up. “Nothing miss. I just, uh, you look so much younger.” “Long story.” Graelyn fudged, “How long have you been waiting here?” “Since the bombs started falling.” Graelyn nodded, she wasn't sure what that meant, but she knew it had to have been a long time. “You don't have to stay here you know, you can leave.” The intern shook her head. “I don't know where to go, Director. They've been executing collaborators.” That was certainly true. “Come with me then.” The intern nodded, “I'm just going into my room.” This lie was strange to keep up, playing a boss of someone who was in reality her peer. She found being in charge like desert, however. “If its all the same to you Director, could I wait out here?” Graelyn raised an eyebrow, but she didn't really care. “Alright, wait out here then. I'll be back out in a bit.” Graelyn turned, trying to pretend she was a figure in authority and not an intern herself. Walking along the wall she counted room numbers till she found the one she was looking for: 41-17: Director Graelyn Scythes. Her hair bristled. She could feel an electric rush move through her. Her hand reached towards the panel on the door, and quivered in the air in front of it. When she moved it just another centimeter, the door would unlock, and she would be inside her own room, but a totally different her. Older. Accomplished... Dead. She shivered. She was excited, she was terrified. She pressed her palm down on the pad, and the door made a clicking noise. She pressed, and it pushed open into an equally dark apartment. Holding the tablet` out in front of her, she examined the inside: there was quite a lot of scientific equipment she could already tell, not to mention a very nice sound system. The floor was alternately lush and highly practical, with half the room looking like a lab, and the other half like a living room. It looked like there might be some sort of divider on the floor that could rise out of it. Then she heard it. It wasn't a loud noise, in fact it was quite soft, but it was all she needed to hear. Like it was muffled through a pillow, she heard a meow. Graelyn barreled in that direction, tripping over something square in the shadows and wincing, but not stopping. She opened another door to a room filled with all sorts of cat toys and structures: things to climb on and sit in. There was an empty food bowl next to an equally empty water bowl, and a litter box that looked like it was automated. The cat meowed. She ran over to the cage, and fiddled clumsily for the door latch. There, through the aperture, was a different cat. It was white with black splotches. “Of course its not my cat.” She thought, “Wherever I am, that woman in the car said I looked twenty years younger. A guess, but a good time frame. Its unlikely my cat could have survived that long.” The cat moved towards her hand, and began to rub against it. Instinctively, Graelyn began to scratch it behind the ear, and the cat closed its eyes in pleasure. “You poor thing, left alone here. I bet you're hungry.” She picked up the cat, and cradled it against her breast. A little warm bundle, shifting and nuzzling. Graelyn foraged around awkwardly for the catfood, not wanting to set the cat down, but also needing to hold the light to actually see things, which left her having to set the tablet down and pick up over and over to reach for things. Finally she found the catfood, opened the meal, and squeezed it into a bowl. She pulled another dish from the cupboard, and filled it with water. Setting the cat down, she watched it begin to eat, its jaw moving in a perfect rhythm, its neck muscles working to move the food back. She smiled, and reached for its collar, feeling for a tag, which she found. Holding the light to it, she squinted, “Captain Fudgesickle.” Good name, she thought admiringly of herself. She ran her hand along his back. No, this wasn't her cat, but this cat had no one here. A Graelyn had picked him out, had raised him, and that Graelyn was gone. He wasn't Mister Sprinkles, but Captain Fudgesickle was still in need of a home. She would take care of him. The good Captain began to drink some water, and Graelyn continued examining the room. There was a workbench where this Graelyn had been working on some sort of robotic limb... Then she noticed it. There was someone else in the room. Sitting there the whole time, silently. She dropped the tablet, and heard the screen crack again. “Hello.” She said as calmly as she could. “I'm Graelyn, who are you?” Silence. “Why are you here?” Silence. She took a step towards him. It was a man, but she could tell he was... Modified. His skin bore numerous scars from surgeries, and she could see lines under his skin that were the trademarks of biomodifications. He looked at her, and remained silent. “Can you talk?” He shook his head no. “But you can do yes or no?” He nodded. She nodded back. “Well then, are you going to kill me?” He shook his head. “Do you want to?” He nodded. She leaned in closer: there had to be an incredible amount of biomods in this man. The only person she could think of with more was Arch, and he was a pretty ludicrous exception. “Did... Did I do this to you?” He nodded. “Did you volunteer?” He shook his head. “Where did I?” He pointed to a wall, “Show me.” He rose, and walked over to the wall, somehow doing so in a way that was both stilted and fluid. Like a clockwork ballerina. He pressed a button on the wall, and it slid open to reveal a room that was still completely lit. The whole thing was utterly white. An operating table sat in the center of it, and a large tray of surgical instruments sat on a tray next to it. Graelyn looked back at him. “Me? I did this to you? I did this to you.” Her eyes grew wide. She looked back at him. She could feel her body trembling, like there was an earthquake in her heart. He squinted at her, and looked puzzled. “I'm not her. I'm not... It wasn't me. I couldn't do...” She covered her face with her hands, and after a moment peaked out from between her fingers. She looked at the table. She could see herself there, slicing him open, crossing that line she'd felt in the ocean she hadn't wanted to believe she could leap. “Could I?” As she stared at the operating table, the silence was deafened as three calibrated charges went off on the apartment door, and a crack team of Revolutionary commandos entered into the apartment, their guns trained on every living target. “Hello Graelyn” A red haired woman said. “You're under arrest.” Written by James Wylder, Illustrated by Annie Zhu This chapter is also available as an audio podcast from the Southgate Media Group. http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawnspodcast You can also subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ Chapter 7: Viva La ImpactHe tumbled through the air, again. He'd lost count of exactly how many times that had happened today. He'd been lucky to, the rocket hadn't detonated when it hit him for some reason, just kept pushing, and his processors worked faster than his brain in order to let go of the projectile before it detonated of its own accord. He watched the explosion above him as he fell, and even though he was really lucky to have not been killed by the high yield military technology, heard a little voice in the back of his head saying, “well, you survived the missile only to crack like an egg on the ground, so lucky is relative.” He sighed behind the mask, and spread himself out. His body actually could easily take this hit if he took the right precautions. He was made to take hits. He needed to time this perfects though. His internal sensors told him he'd hit terminal velocity, which wasn't good, but it did set clear perimeters for his landing. He neared the ground, a nice big area of tiled concrete, and just before he would hit, activated the weapons in his hands and feet. He pushed the energy out full force, draining the energy cells, and ruining the concrete he was over, which pushed him up enough that he went two feet up in the air, and then dropped back down with a loud 'clunk'. A few feet wasn't so bad.
Standing back up, brushing concrete dust off of himself, he examined his surroundings to see a small group of the fighters in rag tag uniforms with their jaws open, or eyes wide, or both, who appeared to be tying up a smaller group of uniformed soldiers who were equally shocked, their hands on their heads. “Uh, don't mind me.” Arch said inadequately, “I'm uh, just passing through.” He gave them a thumbs up, and tried to casually walk away. “Wait. Um, don't move?” One of the rag tag group said, raising a gun. Arch sighed, again. “Can we not do this please?” “Whose side are you on?” The man yelled back at him. His face was covered in a thin layer of grime from battle, his stubble sticking out from it. “No one's side. I'm really not interested in this fight.” Arch took a few steps away from the group. He just couldn't catch a break. “You're either on the side of the Revolution, or the side of the oppressors, there is no inbetween in a warzone.” “I mean, traditionally don't medical staff—never mind forget it. Look, I don't know what you're standing for. I don't know what your revolution is, I just need to find my friend.” The man did something to the gun, Arch honestly wasn't sure if he was cocking it or taking a safety of, it didn't look like either, but it got the man's point across. “Who's your friend.” “No one you know.” “Civilians have been evacuated from the area.” “Have they? Great. Well she's a curious girl and you know what they say about curiosity.” “It killed the cat.” “It did? Okay, actually I didn't know they said that about curiosity, consider me educated. My point here is—” The man's walkie-talkie buzzed. He answered it. “Really?” He said into it. Then, “Right.” He raised his gun again. “Sir, you're under arrest for interfering in the execution of known criminals. Your safety is guaranteed if you co-operate.” Arch weighed his options: he could definitely take all of these troops. His internal processors had already mapped out how his body would move, how he could disarm each of them in turn. It had laid out different movement plots for killing, disarming, or capturing. But he also knew this was a group who knew his location, and who had vertical take off and landing craft (a vtol for short). In close enough proximity they only hadn't shot him again because of his proximity to their own troops. He needed to make sure Graelyn was okay, but there was more than one way to secure her safely. “Okay, fine, I surrender. But I want to talk to your Commanding Officer. I need to make sure my friend is okay.” “Oh don't worry,” the man replied, “she wants to talk to you to.” Alice MacLeod stepped off the vtol, and handed off the rocket launcher to Xhang the special weapons expert, who was waiting for her to get off the thing. “The rocket's are defective, they probably sabotaged the software remotely since they couldn't get them out of our hands.” Xhang nodded, he looked exhausted, so Alice put a firm hand on his shoulder. “You're doing good work here Xhang, we wouldn't have been able to use any of these if it weren't for you. He smiled a bit, and she kept moving. She had a war to win still. Chantelle approached her from the door to the base, and began talking to her as soon as she was within clear listening distance. “Progress taking the city has been swift ma'am, word that most of the board of Directors are dead caused half their remaining forces to lay down arms all over the world. Unfortunately the other half are pretty entrenched.” Alice wiped her brow with her sleeve as she walked and nodded. “Half if better than I was expecting to be honest. That's great news.” Chantelle nodded, and then ran down some other information that wasn't much of a surprise. Long story short-- they were winning but taking out the fortified enemy positions was going to be tough, especially if she wanted to avoid civilian casualties. She wanted more than anything to avoid civilian casualties. “There is one more thing ma'am,” “Please, just Alice.” “Yes ma'am. The man you shot with the rocket survived the fall.” Alice stopped walking, and turned to fully face Chantelle. “Excuse me? Did you just say he survived a fall out of the upper levels of a skyscraper?” “I'm saying he fell, hit the ground, and then surrendered to some of our soldiers while trying to make some lame jokes. I said you'd want to talk to him.” “Lame is an ablest slur Chantelle. Please don't use it.” “Yes ma'am.” “And call me Alice, please.” “I'll try to remember, Alice.” Archimedes hadn't actually ever been in a jail cell before. The guards weren't quite sure what to make of him. They'd taken his coat, and tried to disarm him, but finding nothing of value in the coat and no way to access his internal systems gave up and gave him back the coat. He found the experience somewhat comforting, actually. Archimedes had grown up in enclosed spaces on the space station Ahnerabe, his room had been smaller than this cell. Everything on Earth had seemed to large when he got there—skyscrapers were towering over him filled with spacious apartments the tenants thought were tiny. There was no roof outdoors, and the sky seemed to go on forever into a heinous blue. He felt overwhelmed sometimes walking around out there, but he had acclimated enough to get through it. No one could see his face anyways. No one could tell when he was uncomfortable, and that was the way he liked it. Sitting there, cramped, he could finally exhale, and if he shut off his visual receptors off, it was nearly home. Nearly. A knock shattered the illusion. “Hey, you've got a visitor.” An invisible voice said through the door. “Let them in.” He responded calmly. “She wants to meet you in a more comfortable location.” Arch looked around the cell, and turned off his microphone as he sighed, before turning it back on. “Well, lead me there then.” They didn't cuff Arch as they walked him down the hall, which showed either kindness or a basic knowledge of his mechabiology, and that he was clearly there because he chose to be. A glimmer of reason gave Arch a nudge of hope. Alice MacLeod had a warm cup of tea, and an expansive view of the jailyard. Alice had been to jail many times, for protesting, for stealing food for her family. She had never been to prison though, and she'd always been in and out of the doors fairly quickly. Bailed out by her dad, or mom, or Jack, or any number of family friends. Standing here on the other side of the wall felt wrong. We've won, she thought. We're the ones running prisons now. Good gods, if we get this wrong we could end up just as bad as the people we overthrew. She sipped her tea with a little less certainty until a knock came at the door. The woman who stepped in wasn't Chantelle, it was a different woman in revolutionary fatigues, one she didn't recognize. “I'm sorry, I was expecting someone else.” She said with as much certainty as she could. “Sorry ma'am.” “Alice.” “Right, well, I asked to bring the prisoner up to you so I could give you the report myself. I'm Maria, I'm from the Central and South American branch.” “Oh, well you've come a long way.” She nodded briefly. “I came to let you know we've brought Director Manuel Salazar here for trial.” Alice lowered her tea and raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, for trial? Cells were given explicit instruction to execute the Centro Systems Board of Directors upon capture. This is a revolution, not a parking dispute.” “With all do respect, Alice, you don't understand the situation on the continent. Executing Manuel without a trial would have totally destroyed the faith we've managed to instil in our followers there.” Songbird stared back at Maria, her brow furrowed, and then loosened. “Of course. We're far away from there, keeping the revolution together and preventing a civil war is of the utmost importance right now. I hope you also understand the necessity of executing the Centro Directors.” “...The necessity you feel is apparent to us, yes. On that front, you'll be pleased. There are only two survivors.” “Who is the second?” “Ariadne Moore has fled off world, we're not entirely sure, but it looks like she'd made arrangements with a criminal collective on the rim to hole her up.” Alice nodded, it was unfortunate, but not unexpected. Getting all but two of them was, to be fair to herself, more than any one on the World Revolutionary Council had estimated they could realistically catch. Manuel Salazar would be dead soon anyways, his trial would be a magnificent work of theatre, they just had to make sure their theatrics paid off. “Thank you for the report, Maria.” Alice said, putting on a politic smile. “You're welcome. I'm sure people back home will be impressed I met the famous Songbird of Liberation.” She gave a dismissive gesture. “I didn't chose that name, it sounds too grandiose anyways.” Maria nodded, “Anyways, I have a prisoner you wanted to talk to.” Arch had been waiting outside the door patiently with his guards, and had taken to amusing them by showing off different patterns on his carapace, taking off his coat so he could show off as much of it as possible. “Do a lava flow!” a stubbly man said. He complied, and the group of soldiers erupted into shouts of jubilation. “That's amazing man!” A woman said, “Er, you are a man right.” Arch shrugged. “I am most of the time. Not all, but whatever. Not sure there is a word for that.” “Like, Genderfluid?” “Sure. Maybe.” “Waterfall!” Another voice yelled, and Arch laid the pattern over himself, his whole body projecting the image of a rolling waterfall over it. The group erupted again, as the door opened back up. “What exactly is going on here?” The group froze, and fell quickly into line. Arch threw his coat on, and found a hat being shoved on his head as he did so, “Thanks for the show, bro.” The stubbly man said as he did so. “Nothing ma'am.” The woman who'd asked for his gender said. Maria screwed her lips up, and inspected the group. “Alright, prisoner, go on in. Songbird awaits.” Alice tapped the console that was supposed to select music for the suite. The machine was supposed to take voice commands, but was rejecting every one that she tried to tell it. She guessed the thing was only supposed to accept certain people's voices, and after a bit of cussing, she'd found the touch screen she was looking for. She quickly input the correct data, and then stared, unsure of what to put on at first. After some thought, she chose a classical playlist a CEO had uploaded to the system. The sound of strings filled the room, and she rose to her full height just in time for the door to open and the strange metal man from earlier to enter in. “Ah, welcome. Please make yourself comfortable.” The man sat down on a large cushy sofa, and she wondered how exactly he wasn't breaking the thing. “My name is Alice MacLeod, I'm sure by now you've heard of me.” “Not really, I mean, I did a few seconds ago. And you shot me with a rocket. But other than that, no.” He paused, and without a hint of sarcasm asked, “Do people normally shoot strangers with rockets here?” “No.” Alice said. She wasn't sure what else to say, “Who might you be?” “Archimedes Artemis Von Ahnerabe.” He stood up, and made a sweeping bow, including pulling his cap off in a broad sweep before replacing it, “Well, what do you want to know about me? I'm afraid I'm still trying to get myself placed here. He seemed to focus on the music. Even with no facial expressions, she seemed to sense he recognized it. “I have a lot of questions. For one you seem awful cavalier about getting shot at with a rocket.” “It wasn't that bad. I'll gladly answer all of them, though I also have a request.” She pushed her lips out a little. “Sure. Lets start with that.” “I have a friend, a 17 year old girl. I need to make sure she is okay.” “Seventeen years old you say?” Songbird brought up a hologram with a snap of Graelyn running into the room people were getting executed in. Arch had been a half second behind her, and there he was in 3D as well, with Songbird standing there in front of them with a shocked expression. He felt a touch of luck that the hologram was shown after the other person who looked like Graelyn had already disappeared. He didn't want to see the execution again. “See, I think she might get confused for someone else.” “Bring up Graelyn Scythes.” The machine refused to follow her command, and Songbird cursed again before squatting down next to a screen and putting in a command manually. A picture of an older Graelyn came up. She was standing next to a bunch of people in lab coats Arch didn't recognize, clearly positioned as their superior. “This woman you mean?” “See this is kind of what I was worried about.” “Then explain it to me. What is Graelyn Scythes, who I personally executed, doing alive and seventeen years old guarded by a cyborg built by Nojpeten Inc. over twenty years ago, according to your tag.” He tilted his head to the side like a bird. “I wasn't built by Nojpeten Inc.? I was built on Ahnerabe station.” “I've never heard of that.” “Its beside the point I-” The music began to loop, playing the same song again. Songbird looked at the computer like she was going to kick it. “I know this song.” Arch said, “Graelyn played it for me. Mozart's 5th Symphony. I thought I'd recognized it.” “Its beautiful.” Alice said, “Though I'm surprised I've never heard it before.” “I was to.” They sat there, letting the music seep into the room. First it hit their ear drums, because that's where music always looks for first, but then it went into the windows and the birds outside became notes on the staff. It sank into the couch that shouldn't have supported Arch, and it became its strength. “Hold in there,” whispered the bass. The violins flooded the air-ducts, and the flutes made their way in between the folds of the carpet. The room took on the aire of the Symphony, and it became hard to disconnect the two from each other. “This is Graelyn's song then? You're friend's hidden melody?” “I suppose it’s something inside her, yes. Something she can't express but Mozart wrote down as a bunch of notes before any of us were born. Something lucky like that.” Songbird shook her head, and took a seat in a practical faux leather chair. “I'm afraid it’s anything but lucky. You have confirmed your friend is Graelyn Scythes. You have confirmed that this is her favorite song, which I knew already I'm afraid. She paid the Moscow Philharmonic to play it four years ago. And yet, you want me to think your friend is not someone I'm looking for, when I am indeed looking for Graelyn Scythes. Indeed, I thought I'd killed her.” Arch was silent. His face was silent. His body language was absent entirely, and might have been playing hookey. Arch spoke his next words surely. Carefully. Like a cat walking out a skyscraper window. “What if I told you that she was not Graelyn Scythes, but was Graelyn Scythes. That here, where you are, she is not, but she is somewhere else.” “Explain.” She said curtly. “Do you know about the other world's theory?” “That outside our own universe there are other ones, where every other possible existence is happening. Somewhere I lost the Revolution. Somewhere I went to prison. Somewhere humans have discovered aliens by now, or can't creal.” “Wait what, sorry, I know I'm the one who is supposed to be trying to explain stuff right now, but what the heck is creal?” Songbird shifted in her seat. “Uh, you know, crealing? You know...?” She threw her hand out in front of her like she was trying to explain her hands. “Do you have a dictionary or something?” She dismissed that. “How can you not know what crealing is? Haven't you ever done it?” “I've never heard of it before.” “It’s...” She took a moment, “It’s like, when you're going to do something and you want to do it really well, so you push a part of yourself really hard, and then you're focused on it. Your ability to do that one thing grows, and you're better at that one thing for a short time. You know, Creeling.” “So it’s like a biomodification?” Alice looked indignant and shocked. “What? No of course not, every human has had it for as long as humans have been humans. Dolphins have it to, for what it matters. You have it. Graelyn has it.” “Is this like, a recent discovery?” “No! Every human ever has had it. You're messing with me.” She looked angry. “Stop playing with me. I am not here to play games with every little counter-revolutionary who wants have their fun before they meet their end.” Her eyes bore into him. The music changed movements with perfect timing. “Okay well, uh. I'm not playing with you. I'm from another universe. Another reality. Graelyn was part of some experiment to cut a hole into another reality, and it worked. In fact it sort of worked too well, because we're here and we don't have a way back.” “A project to cut through realities? I've never heard of that.” “Well, maybe it didn't work here. Graelyn was working for some guy named John Aril--” Alice looked interested, or puzzled, “Graelyn never worked for Aril. She worked for Manuel Salazar.” Arch pointed, and made a sort-of-snappy sound as he did so. “Ah! See, alternate reality. So she isn't the Graelyn you're looking for, she's a different Graelyn, and you shouldn't kill her, because she is innocent in all this, and so am I.” He tried to make a gesture to show he was done with his speech, and it came out looking like he was going “ta-da!”. “I find this difficult to believe to say the least.” “Why don't you... Crealg about it?” “Creal. And... That isn't how it works.” “See, I have no idea how it does.” “Let me explain something to you, Archimedes. I've been the leader of this revolution since the government jailed my father for treason.” “Is he okay?” “Yes, he was freed last year in the siege of-- I'm getting off track. I've seen Centro Systems do anything within their power to maintain their control over this world. They've killed their own people, they've shot us with drones, they've burned down towns. I would put absolutely nothing past them. The technology to make a person look infinitely younger has existed for a long time now, as has the technology to make clone replicants of a person at any age. Of course, such things are very expensive. But which is easier for me to believe: that your friend is really Graelyn Scythes, and a replicant of her was killed? Or that this version of her is from another dimension? I find it more likely to be the former. Its also possible that your version of Graelyn is a replicant that broke loose and just thinks she is Graelyn Scythes, but we'll be able to tell that when we take her into custody.” Arch leaned in, “So... You're taking her into custody? Not killing on sight?” “You haven't convinced me of your story. But I'm not in the business of killing innocent people. That's what this Revolution was founded to stop. If your friend is really innocent, she will be fine. She'll get a fair trial just like anyone else. “A trial?” Arch rose. “How else do you decide who is innocent and guilty? Do you really think the rest of the World Revolutionary Council would be willing to accept my word she was innocent even if I did believe you? As it is, you're not wanted for any crimes, and while you did attempt to aid an enemy of the state, I don't think you're a danger. After all,” She said standing up, “You helping us is probably the bet way to ensure her guaranteed safety. Because we know where she is.” She walked out the door. Arch watched the door shut. On the back of the door was a poster, bold red with a black outline of Songbird's face. The word's “Follow Her Song.” Were written beneath the image. The still face of Songbird stared back at him. He supposed he didn't have a choice. The music looped again. He stood there silently. The music looped again. He supposed he didn't have a choice. How will Arch's team up with Songbird work out for him? How is Graelyn doing anyways? Why is everyone so mad? Where is the cat!?!? Find out next week, on 10,000 Dawns! |
James Wylder
Poet, Playwright, Game Designer, Writer, Freelancer for hire. Archives
October 2023
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