by Dusks, Rydre
"Hey! Crow. I need to talk to you for a minute," Blank called from across the auditorium a couple of days later. Feeling that it was business-related, I left the other dusters and followed her out into the hot sun. Blank had her hair down today, which was an unusual sight. She normally left it up off her neck due to the intense heat during the day.
"Listen, Crow," she began as she slowed her walk. "I want to make something clear with you. The reason I went in to try talking my father out of killing you wasn't out of mercy and wasn't because I like you. I did it because I knew if I didn't, Rook wouldn't forgive me." She carried a hesitant air about her while speaking to me. I made her uncomfortable now that she’d seen me kill someone, and I didn’t blame her.
I stopped my stride. We were beside a broken-down fuel station located just a short distance past the theater. I wasn't interested in being cocky, but the words left my mouth before I could stop them.
"Who are you trying to convince, Blank? Me, or you?"
She narrowed her eyes; that conventionally guarded look she was so skilled at increased the fine lines of her face. "You're in no position to make judgments about me, Crow Hightower."
"Well then, I feel like I could say the same," was my answer. I stepped into the shade of the fuel station.
"You've spent a while thinking you know me, and I find that pretty unfair. You don't even know anything about me, and have never asked. You want to know why I wanted to live so badly? I have a helpless adolescent son who was abducted the day I was arrested, and I'm the only one with any leads on where his kidnapper might be. I can't go after him because I'm stuck here in prison indefinitely. Do you realize how stressing that is?"
I'd brought Blank to a silent state. She had her arms folded, her gaze looping over me as if attempting to dig up a lie amongst my words.
"When you told me your father planned to kill me, it was a threat to my waning hopes and dreams of finding my son again. There was no way I was going to let him get away with that. I was flattered by your support. I don't care who you did it for, and I don't care about how you see me, but I want to make one thing clear to you. I'm not just 'another inmate.' I have an entire life outside this camp that I left behind and am desperately plotting to get back to."
For a fraction of a second Blank revealed sympathy in those blue eyes. They softened and misted, as if she were suddenly overtaken by emotion for my horrible position in life. I didn't want her pity.
"Stop. Before you say anything, just stop." I took a rigid breath. "I don't want to be pitied--I want to get out of here."
"I've been desperately trying to keep away from you," Blank abruptly announced. "Rook has been hounding me to become friends with you. I want to like you, Crow, but... I can't. Everyone I like ends up dying eventually, and I'm not going to go through that anymore."
"If you didn't like me already, we wouldn't be having this talk," I pointed out. "I'm ready to consider myself about as invulnerable as Rook in this camp, Blank. I won't be touched."
She looked to have a lot on her mind--things she itched to say to me--but instead she turned from me and headed back in the direction of her tent in silence.
"Oi, blackie," Rook uttered from the covers of his bed. It was a particularly cold night, and we both had to dig for all our blankets to pile under and on top of us to stay warm. "You think your hackerbot can set us free?"
The question was out of the blue, and it took me a moment to understand what he'd just asked. Rook never spoke of getting out of Roavo. The most he ever yearned for was more cheese biscuits and candy to add to his stash. I pulled the covers down slightly to respond with a clearer voice.
"Click does what he can, but he's much too small to instigate a prison break. He would need a lot of backup."
"You mean he couldn't turn some of the remaining guards into friends like you helped us do a while back, and have them open up the gate?"
I was going to argue, but Rook didn't give me time.
"I mean... Everyone's terrified of you. Stone hasn't seen you in a week, and would probably shit his pants if he did. C'mon, blackie, it's about time someone's asked the Roavo King to plan out a prison break."
I bit my lip in thought for a second. I would have loved to, but not every inmate was “innocent." There were many murderers, rapists, and generally wicked lunatics here that deserved to stay. I didn't want Roavo to go under--I just wanted to get out myself. And maybe a couple of friends could join me.
"I already told you I’m not going to break everyone out, Rook," I said. "I just want a select few to escape. I have a baby boy I haven't seen in a year that I need to save from a psychotic lab experiment on the run. That’s my reason for wanting to leave. What's yours?"
It was Rook's turn to be silent. He stared at me for a lengthy while before answering my question. "When I was a kid, I was in this huge accident that should have killed me. Maater City is all about celebrating the invention of machines, although in Lenta they're called Dolls. Every year, they give a day to the Dolls. It's a festival, and Dolls are pretty much free to do what they want--enjoy the luxuries that humans normally do so that they feel equal. Well, one year a Bent showed up to this festival and started attacking all the children."
"A Bent?" I wondered what this had to do with my question.
"Sorry, slang for a broken Doll. One that's gone loony. This Bent Sentry Doll caught me stealing a passerby's money card and picked me up and brought me over his knee. He snapped my spine right in two--nearly killed me. Left me partially paralyzed there on the ground in this huge crowd of Dolls and other people. My parents found me and rushed me to the hospital. They found out from some witnesses that I'd tried to steal and hurried to let the doctors salvage what they could of my spine, but I was in deep shit, you know? They fixed me up, I went through therapy to get my legs back into working order, and then my parents told me they'd had enough of my habits and threw me to a correctional institute for juvenile delinquents. My parents were rich, so seeing me steal was a really ugly smear on the family name."
"Your family was rich?" I reiterated, a little surprised.
Rook nodded. "Richer than the leader of Sheliaas, actually. They basically ran the province themselves. But stealing is more than a habit to me, you know? It's my life. I was born with this urge, and I can't get rid of it. It gives me a thrill... makes me crave more and more. It’s uncontrollable. My family had all the money we needed and then some, but I wanted more than that... and I didn't even know why. I just... wanted.
"So, when I got out of my correctional school, they’d had enough of it. Psychiatric therapy didn't help, school didn't help, and I didn't want to change. My parents saw that, and so they banished me."
I frowned. "I thought you said you left Sheliaas because you wanted to practice your art."
Rook eventually sat up, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and looking over at the closed tent flap. "In a way, I wasn’t lying. Stealing is my art, and Va'lent was the only place I could go to. Sheliaas spans across most of the upper region of Lenta, and I couldn't go any further south or else I would run into crazies in Alker or the Mirrored Plains. So I had to stow myself away on a ship and get into southern Souloroh. Truth is, Crow, I've never really had a chance to live. I thought I was free once I entered Souloroh because no one knew me. I mean... I spoke fluent Lentan and had to teach myself New Soul, but I was free to do whatever I wanted. Then I ended up getting mixed up in some bigger crimes. I stole some valuable merchandise that landed me here in Roavo. I'm only eighteen."
Eighteen... and in prison seven years... a correctional institute for his childhood... Rook really had been robbed of a past. To think that the Souloran police force had thrown Rook in Roavo at the age of eleven was sickening. His crimes must have been terribly severe. I had not seen any young children in Roavo, so I hoped laws had changed since then, and none would be coming into the camp in the future. The camp was terrible enough, even for adults.
"Rook isn't my real name either, but I'm s
ure you guessed that. I can't say my real one in Souloroh or else someone might recognize me as royalty from Sheliaas."
I choked a little, now sitting up with him. "R-Royalty? You just told me you were rich! You didn't say you were royal!"
"Shut up in there!" a guard's voice barked as the tent flap was hit.
Rook ignored the guard and shrugged. He raised his hand that possessed the gaudy ring. "Family crest. I only wear it in Roavo coz I know I can get away with it. Whether I'm a rebellious thief or a Shelian prince, it's the same deal. My parents disowned me, and Sheliaas kicked me out, so I may as well be nothing more than a common convict."
"Rook..." I started. I wasn't sure what to say. All this time I'd thought he was nothing more than a nameless, thieving street rat. To realize that his history was rich with information and noble-blooded background was as stunning as his naturally purple hair.
He looked at me again, and I saw a pain in his eyes that I could relate to. It dissipated rapidly though, glazed over by his constant poker face.
"I want to get out of Roavo so I can try to start over," he continued. "I can't get my status back, really, but I want to change or at least use my urges and skills for the better." He slipped back under his covers and rolled onto his side, facing away from me. "Can you at least consider it, blackie? Not everyone needs to be free. Just some of us."
I lay down and pulled my blankets back up, holding Click close to my chest and keeping silent. Rook was close enough to me to matter, and the foreign emotion in his voice had me already devising a plan.
Life went mostly back to a routine schedule. I woke up, had breakfast, then met with Rook and the other dusters in the theater to address where to work for the day. After that there was typically a measly lunch consisting of an energy bar, though Rook delighted in sharing his hoard with me instead. Then there was an hour of free time. I took the extra time to exercise and work my muscle and endurance back up to where it used to be before I'd been arrested. I ran laps around the men's camp, often with Click zipping along by me or hiding in my clothing. Click periodically went back to GreyCross to report to Toanwar about my state, so I kept him around me often.
On one of my runs, a particularly warm evening where I'd left my uniform top and my shoes back in the tent with Click back in GreyCross, I stopped halfway through my second lap as someone caught my eye. She was still in her kitchen apron and looked like a mess. Her hair was halfway pulled out of its tie, and her top was yanked over one shoulder. There were marks on her skin and face like she had been kissed and bitten excessively. It was proof enough that something awful had happened, especially since she was just on her way out of the main guardhouse by the gate.
Blank looked up and shot me a panicked expression when she saw me, immediately tugging up her outfit and detangling her hair with shaking fingers.
"Blank? Are you alright?" I questioned as I slowed to a halt outside the building.
"I-I'm fine," she answered hastily, beginning a brisk walk back across the camp. I caught up and grabbed her shoulder. She jolted as if the touch wracked anxiety through her body.
"Hold on a second."
"I said I'm fine, Crow. Please." She pushed my hand off and continued her walk. "I'm fine."
Her constant reassurance was only proof that she wasn't. I followed her clear back to her tent. She stepped inside but didn't zip it up, so I entered. She had finally finished her hair, and stood in the center of the tent with her hands on her face. Her shoulders shook as if suppressing sobs.
"Blank, this can't be shrugged off," I insisted. "Why were you in there? Did they drag you in there by force?"
Blank wheeled. Her eyes were bright. "I said I'm fine! What more of a hint do you need so you'll just leave me alone?"
Rook was right about Blank being tough, but there was more to her than a single glance. She was still vulnerable to the horrible behavior and actions in Roavo.
"Do I need to go back to that guardhouse and teach them some manners?" I pressed. I was furious with what had happened. I was certain that the only reason I was so composed now was because I hadn't witnessed the incident firsthand.
"No! Just...!" Blank raised her hands up as if she were about to push me out, but I lifted mine and touched her wrists to gently stop her. With that single touch, she crumbled, dropping into my chest and letting loose wracking sobs. I was startled by her defeat but closed my arms around her in a careful embrace. She tried silencing herself by muffling her voice against me. I stepped over to her bed with her still in my arms and sat down with her. She sagged against me, every stiff and cold presence about her fleeing the scene. She was an entirely different person now, defenseless and exposed.
I didn't count the minutes while I held her. The tent had darkened a degree or so from the lowering sun. Eventually Blank sat up, looking miserable. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her face was pale.
"...Sorry," she sniffed, straightening a little more and looking off toward a bookshelf. There was another uncomfortable lag of silence between us before she continued. "I don't get anybody to lean on, you know. I'm alone and worn down. I'm tired of all this. Everyone relies on me, and I have to keep strong or else everything will fall apart. I never get a chance to just..." Her breath hitched from the aftermath of her breakdown.
"You need to stop trying so hard to make yourself immortal," I opined.
"Easy for you to just say that," she retorted. "Hypocrite."
I nearly rolled my eyes at her feeble attempt to pull her tough mask back into place.
"I've thought a lot about what you said to me the other day, Crow," she whispered after a moment had passed. She looked down at her hands in her lap. "About your life outside the camp. Who you were out there. What you had." She took another breath, slightly steadier than some of them had previously been. "I never had something like that. This camp... It's been my life from the time I was seven until now. My mother was forced to leave me with my father due to failing health. I was raised here, and have seen things that would make anyone else scarred for life. I had my school lessons here. I grew up in my father's cabin and had to deal with his abusive nature for years. He neglected me, and if he wasn't ignoring me, he was beating me. It wasn't until I was in my late teens that I had a chance to get out of there and have my own tent. And it wasn't until then that he started to let me work on Roavo with him. I helped take down a few of the more destroyed buildings around the town. I hoped being of use would make him change. It didn't. I hate him. I hate that I'm just as much a prisoner as everyone else here. I can't get out."
She was in tears again, but not the violent kind. These tears were quiet and streaming, glistening on her cheeks. I wasn't sure what to do or say. My arms hesitated before wrapping around her shoulders, and I pulled her against my chest once more. She didn't resist. I held her for a long while after that, letting the stillness of the evening envelope us. Eventually Blank's breathing evened, and I realized she was asleep. Gently I rested her down on her bed and stood, feeling strange. My heart tugged for me to lie down next to her and stay there.
Defiant feelings. I couldn't help the inherent desire to show compassion toward her. No... it wasn't compassion. It was affection. Despite all the hardness and aloofness that Blank had shown me, I was attracted to her. I wanted to protect her.
This realization was even harder to resist. Instead of acting on what my heart panged to do, I turned and left the tent quietly to finish out the rest of my night.
The next morning I rapped on the side of Blank's tent and waited for her to open it. The flap unzipped and pulled aside. Her eyes were unreadable as she looked me up and down.
"I want to talk to you," I announced.
She waited, shifting her weight to one foot.
"About leaving," I continued. "I'm going to get out of Roavo, but I think Rook and I are going to need your help."
Her expression finally changed to one of slight surprise. "You should probably come in before an officer hears you blabbing."
I stepped inside, relieved to be out of the sun and somewhere cozy. "Rook wants to start a new life, and as you know I've got a kid to find. You could even come with, if you wanted. I think Rook would like it if you did." And so would I, I thought.
She turned her back to me, her eyes on her vanity mirror. It was apparent that she didn't want to remember what happened last night. "There are too many people here that need me. I would, but I can't. Not yet. There are girls here who need my support. I'm the only thing keeping them safe from the officers on the other side of camp. And until Roavo is under new management or something drastic happens, I can't leave."
The stillness between us began to thicken.
"But don't let me stop you, Crow. You can always come back and get me later, if you're that determined."
She was right. There would be an opportunity to come back, and when I seized it, I would be entirely prepared to break her out. I took a deep breath, pushing my wants to the back of my mind. I needed to keep strong and think about Stelliot's fate. Blank was a growing priority in my life, but there was nothing I could do about getting her out of Roavo right now. That would have to come later.
"My hackerbot is going to shut off all power in Roavo, and Rook plans on distracting the guards. I was going to ask if you would assist me in getting to the gates and opening them up."
"The gates only open if there is power running to them," Blank replied. "So they would have to be open before the power was shut off. Even then, Crow, my father has dogs. He sets them loose on any prisoner who tries to run. We've had inmates slip out through the fence in the past during power outages, and they were mauled to death by my father's machine dogs."