Rise in Revolution (Chapter Forty-Nine)
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Chapter Forty-Nine
Dawns
Street 14, Sector TZI. April 7, 2272. Time instance 842N.
Dawn’s first light glowed over the horizon, bathing the main city of Sector TZI in soft golden light. Emma watched the sun rise from her perch at the edge of a building, where she sat in a foldable chair that had apparently been set up just for this purpose. Her elbows dug into her upper legs as her hands held her head, eyes searching the horizon, as if hoping for answers.
She had been there since late the previous night and hadn’t bothered to move or go to sleep. She was exhausted, but the fatigue in her limbs didn’t register in her brain. Instead, slow, troubled thoughts turned over and over, a cycle of worry and fear of the unknown pulsing through her mind.
What would they face when they went against the Mainframe? Who were they to challenge the work of beings from another world? What were they fighting for? Freedom, yes, but was the death and the strife really worth this foreign concept? She didn’t know and, thus, she sat.
She didn’t react as she heard the door at the top of the building behind her open, nor did she react as someone walked up to stand beside her.
“Beautiful dawn,” Tanadin remarked. “How long have you been up here?”
“I don’t know.” Emma’s voice felt thick and clumsy, the movement of her jaw restricted by her hands. “Since I got out of the medical wing?”
“You were injured?”
“Cataclysm was.”
“Ah. How is he?”
“Fine. A bit beaten up, but nothing life-threatening. Kyir’s worse off and he’s only bruised.”
“I heard about that. Who set him off?”
“I don’t know.” Emma finally lifted her head, turning to look at her friend. “What do you mean?”
“Who used ice near him? He has panic attacks and flashbacks when people use ice magic around him, or anytime it snows.”
“Oh.” Emma blinked a few times, letting her arms fall. “I didn’t know. Why?”
Tanadin shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s never said and I’m not going to be the one to pry into Kyir’s business.”
Emma nodded and looked back at the sunrise, falling silent. Tanadin sat on the ground beside her chair, watching the horizon with her.
About fifteen minutes passed before Emma spoke again. “What are we fighting for, Tana?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know we want to be free from Mainframe control, but...what does that mean? What is it like without it? I don’t know what we’re fighting for and I don’t know if it’s worth all of this death and strife.” She turned to look at Tanadin, who had turned her head and wore a thoughtful expression.
“It...hadn’t occurred to me that you had never lived in a world without the Mainframe,” she said quietly. “I mean, I knew. I always knew. I never thought you were older, but I just...didn’t realize that you didn’t know what you were missing out on.”
Tanadin looked up at the lightning sky above them. “You can go anywhere you want, without having to be transferred. No one can tell you where to live or where to work unless you let them. You can’t be ripped away from friends and family, and people can’t kill anyone without consequences. Your loved ones aren’t taken and killed or turned into mindless cybernetic slaves of the Mainframe. You can learn what you want, when you want, and can be free to pursue life the way you want.”
Tanadin sighed. “It’s been twenty years since the world has been that way. I’m tired, Emma. I’m tired of struggling just to get through every day. I’m tired of fighting for our freedom. I’m tired of living in fear. For who are we if we are only defined by our fear? What do we stand for if the only reason we stand is because we’re too afraid not to?”
She shut her eyes. “We’re worth more than that. We’re worth the chance we’re taking. What we’re fighting for is worth the death, the pain, and the blood. We fight for ourselves because no one else will, and if we don’t, we’ll be crushed beneath metal and lost in the circuits of efficiency and destruction.”
Emma smiled at her. “You’re sure you’re not a good speaker?”
Tanadin opened her eyes and grinned. “I’m not good at speaking to groups. I’m the worst revolution leader ever. I don’t even talk to people, I just yell at Seven about immoral decisions and fistbump Nine when he says something clever.”
Emma laughed, slipping out of her chair onto the floor beside her friend. “I think that’s all you need, though.”
“You think so?”
Emma looked back at the sky, still smiling. “I know so.”
~~~
Cap followed Fall into the building, raising an eyebrow at the occupants within.
Nine and Seven stood next to an unfamiliar man, who seemed to be arguing with them. Next to the wall stood an inactive golem.
“I can’t make them any faster. When you rush golems, they come out wrong and don’t follow directions correctly or fall apart at the slightest strain. It’s not efficient.” The unfamiliar man spoke the final word almost mockingly, eyes narrowed and clearly annoyed.
“This is ridiculous,” Nine muttered. “Look. Cap’s here. Thank you, Fall. You can go. Cap, how many ghosts do you have following you?”
Cap looked around at the three of them looking at her expectantly before answering. “Two.”
“Can you ask one of them to possess that golem over there? We have something we want to test.”
Cap slowly nodded and turned to face Atar and Sheva. “Who wants to-”
“Me! Me! Pick me!” Atar raised his hand. Sheva didn’t seem to notice Cap’s words.
Cap sighed. Great. Where’s Mentor when you need him? “Okay. Try it, Atar.”
Atar grinned and shot towards the golem, vanishing into the clay. A shudder ran through its form and a light blue glow suffused its eyes. Cap’s eyes widened as it raised its hands and looked at them, opening and closing its jaw a few times before speaking.
“This is awesome.”
“I have to hand it to you, Mark, I didn’t actually think this would work,” Nine admitted. “Which ghost is this?”
“Atar. Fan’s mentor.”
“Hell yeah!” Atar took a few clumsy steps forward, surveying them before pointing a finger at Seven. “You!”
“Me?”
“You! You are a stick in the mud!”
Seven blinked, looking at Nine. “Is this a saying that I am not understanding?”
“It means you’re not any fun.”
“Oh.” Seven looked back at Atar. “Noted.”
“You’re also obnoxious and don’t know when to stop pestering me about ‘more efficient’ ways to make golems,” Mark muttered. “I can get another golem made in a week and a half, and no more nonsense about sending me help. I don’t need help. Got it?”
Seven nodded. “Very well. If assistance would make your job more difficult, I will abstain from sending some. Cap, would the other ghost be willing to take control of a golem?”
Cap glanced at Sheva, but the ghost simply shook her head slightly. “No,” Cap said regretfully. “She won’t. But can you do me a favor?”
“Hm?”
“Explain what’s going on.”
“I’ll take over here,” Nine said quickly. “So, Mark here is a golemancer. He’s very skilled and the golems can be very helpful, but he only has so many. We were asking if he could make more, and he can, but it’s a very time consuming process. The golem itself only takes nine days or so to make but enchanting it with the proper commands and false intelligence to make it work takes much longer than that. Then he mentioned hearing rumors of ghosts possessing ‘empty’ golems, so we figured it was worth a shot. That way, we’re limited only by how quickly he can make the bodies.”
Cap nodded as she listened, running the possibilities over in her head. “Unfortunately, we only have so many ghosts. One of the ones following me passed on into the afterlife and my only remaining undead companion isn’t interested in taking control of a golem.”
“I, however, am loving this.” Atar punched a wall experimentally.
Mark growled. “Do that again and I’ll call an exorcist.”
Atar stopped.
“In any case, we practically got one free golem,” Seven pointed out. “While not a major bonus, he could prove helpful in the long run. At the very least, it’s a more intelligent and powerful fighter on the battlefield.”
“Are you saying my golems are unintelligent?” Mark demanded.
Seven looked at him with a neutral expression. “Yes.”
“Well, you’re right. Golems aren’t winning any intelligence awards. Having one piloting itself decently will be a relief and an asset.”
Cap drummed her fingers against her leg. “How will this affect Atar’s deterioration, though? Will it protect him?”
“Let’s put it this way, kid. I feel better than I have since before I died. This thing’s giving me some clarity and I think I’m safe as long as I’m in here.” Atar looked over his hands again. “Not exactly great in the finesse department, so it looks like I’m melee.”
“Punch in a cyborg’s face,” Mark suggested. “It’ll make me feel better about giving one of my creations to a dead guy.”
“I’m the best dead guy around.”
“Shawn might protest to that,” Nine said mildly.
“Shawn can suck my-”
Cap cleared her throat. “Atar.”
“Yeah?”
“Please stop talking.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“We should leave these three alone. Maybe you can go bother Fan? You’re not exactly invisible now.”
Atar froze, the realization clicking in his head. “Fan,” he echoed. “I can...talk to Fan.” He stepped forward, past Cap and out the door. She looked at the others helplessly before following. “Fan…”
“If she believes him, she’ll kill me,” Cap muttered. “And if she doesn’t, she’ll kill him.”
~~~
Fan awoke to Mars pushing her off of a couch.
“Out,” Mars told her, making a shooing motion. “I need this room and we don’t need any of your drugged antics.”
“I’m not drugged,” Fan protested, getting to her feet. “No one will sell me anything with this revolution going on. Not even you.” She pouted.
“Huge loss. Get out.” Mars seemed annoyed, as if something had upset her before she had come to wake up Fan. She was tempted to ask what was wrong, but a single look at Mars’ angry eyes changed her mind.
She scurried out of the room without another word, almost shutting her eyes against the bright sunlight outside. Ugg. Daytime.
She passed Jimmy and Gali, ignoring their greetings in favor of shoving her hands into her pockets and making her sulking more obvious. She wasn’t in a good mood after being shoved off of a couch, and-
“Fan!”
Fan’s head snapped up and she froze mid-step, the familiar voice sending a wave of shock through her system. No. No way. It’s not-
“Fan!”
A golem came charging down the street towards her, a form of earth and clay with glowing blue lights for eyes and his voice, her mentor’s voice, Atar’s voice.
She almost didn’t notice Cap jogging along behind him as she charged forward, skidding to a stop in front of the golem, stuttering and babbling the beginnings to dozens of questions.
“Woah, hey, slow down.” She thought she could see the golem smiling. “One question at a time. Yes, it’s really Atar in here. Yes, I’m dead. No, I’m not some mean trick. Yes, I’m here to kick ass, and yes, I’ve been haunting you.”
Fan stared at him before bursting out with “But why are you here? What....”
“There was a golem available for possession. Nine called up Cap, knowing about her ghost thing, and she just-”
That gave Fan pause, her gaze drifting over to Cap. “Ghost...thing?”
Cap’s face immediately shifted to read oh shit.
“Um, Fan…” Cap hesitantly stepped forward. “I...have this...ability. To see ghosts. Atar’s been following you since he died.”
Fan stared at her in disbelief for a moment before raw fury overcame everything else, a furious expression clawing its way across her face. “You knew? You could talk to him? And you didn’t fucking TELL ME? I was hurting, Cap! I was aching and it’s not fair! Why would you tell me something like this?!”
“Because he’s dead, Fan! He’s dead, and telling you would only make you feel like he wasn’t until his unfinished business completed and he passed on! It was better for you not to know in the long run, okay? Better for you to think that he died to the Mainframe than pass on once you didn’t feel like this anymore! You’d make yourself hurt just to keep him around!”
Fan looked between them before turning around and storming off, fury coming off of her body in angry, painful waves.
Cap and Atar exchanged glances helplessly.
“I’ll...talk to her.” Atar reluctantly followed along behind his furious pupil, heavy footsteps loud in Cap’s ears even when he went around the corner.
Cap fell into a sitting position on the street, sighing and holding her head in her hands.
“I messed this up,” she mumbled, shivering.
Sheva didn’t respond.
She didn’t have to.
