Wings

by Fearadhach MecRaudri

  She did not even wait for his nod to finish before continuing, “On the other hand, it is probably better that it is in the open between us. I think, now that we can deal with this….thing…we have both been ignoring I will be able to sleep a little easier. I know that Torfan certainly will when we tell him we have discussed it.

  “To be honest, there is a part of me that would like nothing better than to take that comfort from you, Lucas. Nothing better. But… I just can’t, and I know you can’t either. I know that picture over your mantle is of your wife, and I have seen the way you look at it every time you walk in this room. She may be dead, but she is still not gone to you. Even if it were not for my own hang-ups I couldn’t take you like that. It would be a cruel thing to do to you and, to be bluntly honest, I am not willing to share. Not even with a memory.”

  A generous, closed-lipped smile rose to take any sting out of the last remark. She began to raise a hand to put on his knee as she saw him groping for words, but appeared to think better of it and withdrew.

  At length, Lucas worked enough moisture into his mouth to speak, “I would say that you have me at a bit of a disadvantage here, but such things do not exist between true friends. Before we address that, though, I will say that I agree with your reasoning. For us to take this friendship anywhere besides where it is would be to court disaster on far too many levels.

  “Relationships have a way of spinning emotions out of control, and if we fell into emotional conflict within our relationship it could have repercussions across The Column. Furthermore, there is the question of just how compatible you and I truly are. We are constantly engaged right now because of The Column, but some day we will reach the end-game in this struggle, one way or another. What then? Would we find ourselves unable to hold anything together after all of this has settled out?

  “I don’t know what your plans are after that far-off day when we win, but I know mine. I am going to retire. Find somewhere as far away from all of this, from the constant struggle of man-against-man as I can, and rest. I do not know what I will ultimately end up doing, but I know what I won’t do, and that is have any part in whatever government is formed behind us.

  “Anyway, the reason I bring that up is that maybe we can explore this then. Right now, even aside from the fact that both of us are carrying torches for ghosts, I fear what the passion could do to our efforts. After this is over, if the embers of this flame are still there and retreating from this world seems a good idea…. No, don’t speak, my friend. Don’t respond. Not now. In time, maybe, but not now. For now, just know that it is there.

  “Now, to the ‘disadvantage’ you have me at. I have known for some time that you were in one of the Families before you came to us, and the fact that you carry a flame for a ghost is writ large across your face. I can deduce that he was lost to you because of the political machinations of the Families in one way or another, though whether it turned out that he wasn’t what you thought or something else happened I don’t know. And I don’t need to. I am pretty sure, however, that he is not the only reason you are with us. That is something I would like to know.”

  He finished speaking and had to hold his hands together to keep them from trembling. Her face had become flush, and her breathing heavier than it should have been, causing her chest to rise and fall, which called his attention to it.

  She had to start twice before finding a steady voice “I had hoped that Torfan would relate to you what I told him about…Him, but realized that he would never break a confidence like that. There was … a….” He watched her eyes glaze over as she looked up, and a bittersweet smile came to her face as she began to fall into the memories. Then her eyes suddenly focused and he could see the great effort it took her to pull herself back. “I’m sorry, if you want to know what little I’ve been willing to share please ask Torfan. Let him know I asked him to tell you. To go into even the sketchiest detail is to re-live parts of it again, and that is still too painful, even after all these years. Any of this I am about to relate can be shared with him, as well. But only with him.

  “After…it happened, I ran. Ran from the Families, ran from the government, from responsibility, from everything. Ran to the only place I could think to go: into the hands of a mob I had some dealings with. They were able to get me the reconstructive surgery and genetic therapy I needed to stay hidden, but were unwilling to touch me otherwise. I spent a lot of time wandering, then, going from place to place. I tried finding office work at first, but my fake identity just didn’t stand up well enough.”

  Her chest continued to rise and fall too heavily, the flush in her cheeks grew deeper, reminding him of roses in their soft beauty.

  “I had to run more than once with the police on my heels. I finally managed to land a job with a marketing firm by dazzling them with my charisma and using every trick of personal manipulation I had been taught. My upbringing betrayed me rather quickly, though. Within a month the owner of the firm figured out that I was Family on the run, and threatened to turn me in if I didn’t bed him.

  “I tried to go through with it, I really did. But, visions of my…of …” As she shook her head Lucas could see the warring memories of her lost love and the craven blackmailer flittering across her face. It only too her a moment to find control and continue, “I couldn’t go through with it, I just couldn’t. I was no innocent virgin, let me assure you. I had used that as a bargaining chip before, and thought that I could again… but love changes you. His face kept floating into my vision, and I pushed the bastard off of me, pushed him hard. I gathered my things to go and he pulled a weapon, told me he would give me one last chance to bed him, or he was going to turn me in and see what kind of reward he could get.

  “I don’t like having weapons pointed at me, they have an annoying tendency to go off. The man was dead on the floor before I even realized what I had done. I left the gun in his hand, and ran again; this time to one of the industrial provinces. It had been some months by this time, and I knew that they would no longer be looking for me as hard. I ended up taking a job at a factory, doing work which should have been done by robots. Thought I had found the perfect place to hide for a while. They would be looking for me in some sort of white collar job, or bringing power to some organized crime faction, but they would never look for me doing base labor. Their pride would never let them believe that one of their own would stoop so low.”

  She had stopped leaning back, and now sat rigidly straight, obviously fighting herself for control. The flush in her cheeks had worked its way to her neck, and gasps of emotion were slipping control to play behind her eyes. He took a drink to try to steady his heartbeat as she continued, reflecting on how out of sync their responses were to the tale being told.

  “I didn’t know it at the time, but that was the first of a number of realizations about the lies that I had been living with. I had always thought of ‘the populace’ as little more than two legged cattle, if that. They were there to be herded, used, kept from hurting themselves, and reminded of their place when necessary. People who weren’t of the Families had hardly been people to me. Plebes were barely above animals, unable and unwilling to grasp the greater picture. So heavily had I been sunk into these beliefs that I didn’t even see what we…what I…did in keeping them down, keeping them from ever daring to look up and see the greater picture around them. To keep them afraid to even glance at the noose around their necks.

  “The lies I had crafted to foist on the populace, the campaigns to distract them from reality, the efforts I made to hide the wrangling between the various Families behind what appeared to be legitimate philosophical disputes. I had held two opposing viewpoints without even seeing it: I had been proud of my own cleverness in coming up with the lies, and contemptuous of the fools who believed them.

  “Life as a factory worker was hard and depressing. I had told myself that I would only be there temporarily, until I could find my next move, but the days stretched to weeks, and the weeks to months. I held m
yself aloof from my co-workers, even as I studied them, learned about them, even came to respect them. For the first time I saw the humanity in these people, these ‘plebes’, but I still held a certain contempt for them deep in my heart as I heard them discuss the political news of the day: As I heard how they were taken in by the stories we crafted, how they bought into them hook, line, and sinker. The turning point came in two parts. I was listening with one ear to the television in the break room, and the other to a handful of co-workers sitting around discussing it.”

  Lucas tried to tamp down his quickening breath, and took another drink. His eyes had become riveted on her chest, he could feel them following the heave of the perfect round… no… He forced his eyes to hers, saw that she knew where his eyes had been. Then - in a move that had to have been un-intended and unconscious - she looked away from him, breaking eye contact, and took a sudden sharp breath. This caused her chest to heave, and brought his eyes back where they had been. The edge of vision showed that part of her regretted the action…even as the flush of her skin deepened and he fought the tremor in his hands. She continued, as though nothing had happened.

  “The group around the next table was, of course, arguing the politics, some taking one side and some the other. Both sides were basically arguing the talking points of one of the two political parties. One of them looked up and tried to draw me into the argument. He couldn’t remember the name I had been going by for those months I had worked with him, but he had noticed that I was listening them and asked me to weigh in.

  “I had, of course, been formulating arguments of my own, careful to avoid the truths I knew had been hidden under the lies, and had decided to take the position in opposition to the man who had called me out. I hesitated for a few moments, and one of the women in the argument spoke before I did. She told the guy who had called me out to forget it. She said I wouldn’t talk, and that I still thought I was stubborn, and hadn’t yet realized that there was no way out of the life we were in. She said she figured I would be at least another three or four months before I accepted my lot in life.

  “Her words angered me, and that anger burned through me to show me why I was uneasy with the position I had been about to take in their argument. I had dismissed the feeling as fear of giving myself away as I had at the marketing firm, but the anger burned the walls I had been building around myself away. The reason for my uneasiness was that I had been the one who had crafted the original argument, both sides of it, in the first place!”

  His heart nearly skipped a beat as he watched the remembered anger beat against her failing control. The flush had gone to her hands, and he could feel that his hands had already flushed in response. He wished she had worn perfume, for that would have been much easier to fight than the natural pheromones he now smelled coming off of her in waves. Her nose twitched, and he knew that she must be smelling the same from him. Her control held, though, and she continued.

  “The debate was over whether to pass certain morality laws in a particular province. It was disguised under the normal arguments for and against such things, freedom of the individual versus public safety, but carefully crafted to steer people away from what inevitably happens when such laws pass, and the real reason for them. We had needed the criminal element in that area strengthened for a while, and were creating a stronger black market for them so that they could flourish. I was stunned into silence as I realized how pervasive our lies were, and how horrible were the things I had done. I thought about the deaths which would occur in the criminal violence, and the way people would be victimized by their chasing after the ‘illicit’ goods and services; and for what?

  “The reason that province had been marked out for increased crime levels? It was home to a set of businesses which were doing too well, and had protected themselves against a forced buyout. The criminal element would be able to slowly bleed money from them, then force them into illicit activities through blackmail. We could then get them on black market dealings. So, hundreds were killed and thousands of lives were ruined because a group of plebes had begun to amass enough wealth to actually become ‘players’, and we didn’t want to let them into the club.”

  Lucas saw her leaning toward him, chin remaining level and hands in lap. The movement made him take stock of himself, and she surprised him by responding to the movement. He forced himself back, and watched the brief moment where her mask slipped. Her eyes softened in relief, but her mouth pouted, briefly-so briefly- in disappointment. Both emotions sent shockwaves through the whole of his being as her lips continued to form words as though they were part of another body.

  “I felt a new fury. It was not stronger than the one which already burned with me, but it was not a whit weaker either. They had used me to cause this pain and suffering, to perpetuate it and even make it worse. I then felt a shame as great as the fury for my part in it. The evidence had all been there, I had even admitted to myself once or twice, in the lonely darkness of the night, what horrible things I had been doing. I had been armored by a sense of entitlement and superiority, however, and never given it a second thought.

  “It was there, in the lunch room of some grimy factory, that my path became clear. I had sworn vengeance against one man, the one who... The..."

  She shook her head, "I had been blinded by that rage. The months in that factory had nearly dulled me into complacence. The woman at the other table had been right, a few more months there, and I might never have left. The new realization, though... That gave me a new rage, and brought the old one back from the dark places where it had been haunting my dreams. I resolved, then and there, to end everything. Take the whole rotten structure down, and do it around HIS ears, to...

  “Anyway, the only thing that stopped me from walking straight out the door at that instant was the knowledge that doing so would leave a trail. I finished my shift, went home, gathered what a few things, and went to seek The Column.”

  As she talked of new beginnings he saw a light enter her eyes, and this time she could not extinguish it. His eyes followed a bead of sweat down her cheek, down her neck, on down to disappear in between her nearly-heaving breasts.

  “I had a lot of interesting ideas at the time, and knew that much of what had been told to me had to have been a lie. I knew that there would be no eating of prisoners, and probably not even slave labor.” She closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath. “No, definitely not slave labor. That was a right we reserved for ourselves. One of the first tricks we were taught: if you don’t want anyone to see that you are doing something, convince them that your enemies are doing it. Then they look like they are just trying to shift the blame when they point to you."

  Her hand unconsciously moved to wipe the drop, but caught on a button. His breath caught for a moment as the hand tried to work the button, but a look of rage flickered across her face and the hand stilled, the button still in place. His admiration for her grew, for her words stayed as steady as ever, despite the renegade actions of her body.

  “I must say that I was surprised, however, to see how organized we were, and how effective we were already becoming. Finding us was not easy, of course, and making the transition from refugee to active member took a lot of dancing about. I quickly came to admire what those who ran The Column in those days did, but I had a lot of ideas on how to make it better.”

  His breath felt hot as it played over his tongue, and her chest heaved in a rhythm with his own. She had slowly leaned forward as she spoke, and he felt himself doing the same. The table sat between them, but he couldn't be sure how long that would hold them. Her hand continued to try to move toward that button, but she forced it back down each time.

  “The thought of unifying the various Sanctuaries into a true Column was hardly popular, though. There were a few of us who worked hard at keeping everything else going that talked about getting it done, but our efforts never seemed to get anywhere. Then this short man who ran a shipping agency, and was one of our agents, came in dragging his wife
and a certain bat-winged firebrand behind him...”

  As her words brought the memory of their first meeting to mind he watched the rebellious hand move –as if of its own accord- and finally get a button undone. It tried to move down to the next, but she brought it up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose instead. They both took a few gasping breaths before she continued.

  “Anyway, you know the rest of the story. And now you are asking yourself why I have told you all of this. It is not because I think you doubt my loyalty. I know you don’t. No, I have told you all of this to assure you that revenge is not my only motivation in what I do here. It is a large part of it, to be sure, but not all. I have come to share the goals and ideas of The Column, and to hate the dehumanizing way that the Families treat their fellow man. Even if those who caused my pain were to die tomorrow, even if my dead love were miraculously restored to me at this moment, I would fight on.

  “You need not worry, though, my friend. I share more than your goals, I do in fact share your values, and I wish to sh…”

  At the word ‘and’ she had begun to rise from her seat, but both hands gripped the arm rests as a drowning man grips a rope. The heat was coming off both of them in waves, and some distant corner of his mind kept expecting the air to come on in response to the rise in temperature. He was half way out of his chair before realizing what he was doing, and it took an act of will to force his knees to put him back down. He had been about to go over and… no… best not even think of it.

  They sat for some moments, breathing in unison, fighting their bodies. He fought and reveled in it at the same time, and could see the same emotional war in her features. Her breathing started to change, and his changed with it. Hers changed again, and his followed. He tried to speak, but had to abort each attempt as the words which began to form on his lips were not the ones intended by his mind.