by Kyle Andrews
Libby was exhilarated just saying those words out loud. Releasing years of frustration at not being able to do what she wanted or to be who she wanted. Everything about her life up until that moment had been decided for her, but that was done. She wasn't just a follower anymore. Libby Jacobs had declared her own independence and it was a rush unlike anything she'd ever felt before.
Too bad Aaron didn't notice. As she was going on about wanting to learn how to fight her own fights, his eyes drifted away from hers. He was now staring at something behind her.
He didn't smile, but Libby saw a look of relief wash over him and she needed to see what he was looking at. She turned around and looked toward the entrance. There, she saw Simon, standing with a crowd of people surrounding him.
A smile formed on Libby's face as one of the many weights was lifted from her shoulders.
22
Libby didn't know Simon well. They'd spoken a bit on their mission together, but she knew very little about the man himself, and he knew very little about her. Because of this, she wasn't quite sure how to respond to seeing him again. She was excited and relieved. She wanted to go to him and celebrate, just like everyone else was doing. But she wasn't one of them, and she had to remember that. They were a community who had known each other and had lived together for so long that they had a right to celebrate his safe return. She was just the girl who he nearly sacrificed himself for.
As Aaron walked away from Libby, toward Simon, she smiled and watched from afar. She clapped her hands when everyone else clapped their hands, but she did nothing to draw attention to herself as she watched the excitement of the moment unfolding in front of her. She saw how happy they were to see Simon return, and wondered what it would feel like to have that sense of belonging. What would it be like to see someone's eyes light up when they saw her?
Simon shook Aaron's hand and spoke a few words to him, which Libby couldn't hear. Then he must have asked about Leo, because his expression fell and he looked off to the side mournfully.
Then his eyes turned to Libby. She held her breath, waiting for him to tell her that she was to blame for this, and that she should have been the one to die instead of Leo. But as Simon looked at her, all that she saw was sadness. Not accusatory sadness. Nothing that pointed a finger at her at all. When he looked at her, it was like he knew what she felt, because he felt it too.
When he started to walk toward her, Libby didn't know what to say or do. She stared at him, waiting for him to do something first. Her reaction would be based on whatever he did. If he spoke, she would speak. If he tried to hit her, maybe she would have let him.
Simon was within two feet of Libby when his mouth turned into a weak, nervous smile and he said, “I failed you. And I'm sorry for that.”
Libby looked from Simon to Aaron, who was approaching both of them. She was confused. Simon's words were outside the realm of anything that she could have expected him to say.
“I don't...” she started, before trailing off. She didn't know how to finish that sentence.
“What happened?” Aaron asked Simon, moving him toward a chair, so that he could sit down and rest. He'd obviously had a long night.
Once Simon was sitting down, he pulled the flash drive from his pocket and looked at it. He said, “I thought that if I just had more time, I could get the information. It was the mission. It would be worth the risk.”
Simon took a deep breath before continuing, “I wanted to see it. It was selfish. I knew that HAND would be chasing them, and I abandoned them so that I could have a look at the data. I hid in a closet while Leo was being killed. While Libby...” His eyes moved toward the wounds on her face and he said, “You have no training. No business being out there in the first place, but you put your life in our hands. You trusted us, and I just walked away from you like it was nothing.”
Libby started laughing. It was incredibly inappropriate, and she didn't mean to do it, but she couldn't help herself. She started laughing right in Simon's face, as he was apologizing to her.
Then she hugged him, just like everyone else had as he walked into the building. She hadn't felt comfortable doing it with everyone else, and she didn't know why she was doing it now, but she held onto him anyway. She felt as though if she let go, one of them would dissolve into nothing.
“You didn't abandon me. You didn't abandon Leo. You did your job,” she said into his ear as she held onto him. “Just tell me that you got what we needed. Please tell me that it was worth it.”
She pulled back and Simon had tears in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but simply shook his head instead.
“You didn't get any of it?” Aaron asked, turning away. He was annoyed, and angry. He tried to hide it, but he couldn't.
“I got some,” Simon corrected. He stood up and walked to a nearby computer, where he plugged in the drive. “Their system wasn't compatible with our technology. We're working with ancient tech by their standards. Their encoding was different. I've never seen anything like it. I looked all over the place for a converter on one of their computers, but they had nothing.”
He started to click through folders and files on the drive, searching for one in particular. Libby watched, waiting to see what he managed to get, but her hopes weren't high. The second that she heard that their technology was incompatible, she knew that there wasn't much hope.
“Could you bring their tablet back here? The scanner?” Aaron asked.
Simon shook his head, “I thought about it, but they had a GPS type system inside of the tablet, which I couldn't deactivate without damaging the processor. I mean, I might be able to, if I had a week or two to poke around and see what was what. But like I said, I've never seen technology like this. It's upper class. Way out of my league.”
Aaron looked more puzzled than ever and asked, “But you did get something. How?”
Simon smiled and held up his hands, waving his fingers in front of Aaron. “Straight up copied the damn thing. As much as I could anyway. File by file. It took forever.”
He clicked on a file and a text document came up. It was the Declaration of Independence. He clicked on another file, The Constitution of the United States of America. And another file, The Bill of Rights.
The room fell silent, and all of the TV screens switched from broadcast networks to views of those text documents. Everyone gathered around and started reading.
“I got as much as I could,” Simon repeated. “It's not everything. It's not a fraction of what's inside of you, Libby. You're a frigging vault!”
Libby looked past Simon, to the computer screen, and started to read the document that he opened last. She read the rights that were promised to every citizen, and it didn't match up with what she was taught in school. It didn't sound like a fluid document, meant to hold together a newly formed nation. The wording was definite and strong.
“They taught us about these things in school. They didn't even hide them from us. They just... twisted them. Their words. Their intent,” Aaron said, echoing what Libby was thinking.
“Was it worth it?” she asked Aaron, and she saw Simon's eyes move toward him as well.
“Yes,” Aaron told them. “These... This is everything. This is our culture. This is what they took away from us.”
Accepting that answer, Libby asked “What do we do now?”
Aaron stood up and turned to look around at all of the people who were reading those documents. Then, in a far more intimidating tone than the words would suggest, and with a slightly sinister smile on his face he said to them, “We petition the government for a redress of grievances.”
And nobody understood what the hell he was saying.
23
It was almost dark by the time Justin could run home and check on Amanda. All day long, he wondered what he would find when he got there. He wondered if she would be dead, and what he would do with her if she was. Could he report that death?
Or would she be awake and demanding to know why he had taken her?
Why she wasn't in a hospital? Where Libby was? How many questions could he think of for her to ask which he could provide no answer for? Far too many.
Where was Libby? That was a good question. Between Libby and Amanda, an entire family line could have been killed off that day. The thought was driving him crazy.
He was exhausted. He hadn't rested. He'd barely eaten. He always had someplace to be and something to take care of, and that didn't seem to be changing anytime soon. Though Justin wanted to run up the stairs to his apartment, he just couldn't do it. He was on the verge of collapse by the time he stepped into the hall that lead to his apartment.
Marti was already there, sitting by his door, waiting for him to show up. When she saw him, she hurried to her feet and went to him.
“You look horrible,” she told him. “What's going on with you? I thought we decided not to talk for a while.”
“It's important. I need your help.”
“With what?”
Justin opened the door and led Marti into his apartment. Once she was inside, he closed the door. He stood there for a moment, torn between wanting to know and not wanting to know. Then he asked her, “Have you heard anything about Libby?”
“You mean, the hospital? Yeah.”
“Someone's dead.”
“Not her. Libby's back at the Garden.”
The good news hit Justin almost as hard as the bad news would have. He took a deep breath or two, absorbing Marti's words and waiting for the relief to kick in.
“Is she okay?” he asked, as soon as he could speak.
“I don't know details, but I think so. Is that why you called me here? Because that's a really stupid reason for me to—”
Justin held up a finger and shook his head, silencing Marti. He gestured for her to follow as he led her toward the bedroom.
“If it were any other guy, I'd be out of here by now,” she told him as she followed him. “Fortunately, I know you're honorable and...”
Marti stopped short when she saw Amanda on his bed, but Justin couldn't slow down to explain himself. He needed to check on Amanda and make sure that she was okay.
From the looks of things, Amanda had either woken up at some point during the day, or started thrashing around in her sleep. The glass of water that he'd left for her was shattered on the floor. The note that he had written was resting amongst the shards of broken glass.
Amanda was alive. She was breathing, though it was obviously not coming easily to her. If possible, she seemed even more pale than she had that morning, and even thinner as well.
“Are you out of your mind?” Marti asked him, standing by the door and crossing her arms. She obviously wanted to yell, but that would draw too much attention, so she resorted to whisper-yelling.
“It's Libby's mother. Amanda.”
“I know who she is. And so does every government official in the city, no doubt. Do you realize how many people might be watching her?”
“That's why I didn't take her right to the Garden. But I can't take care of her myself. I need their resources. I need real doctors.”
“They're not just going to let you bring her in there.”
“I need to try!” Justin yelled, before catching himself and quieting his voice. “We can scan her. We can make sure that she isn't being tracked, but we need to help her.”
“She isn't one of us.”
“Does that make her life worthless? Does it mean that she isn't worth saving? Because there are a lot of people out there who aren't one of us, Marti. Aren't we trying to save them? Or are we just looking out for ourselves?”
“You know that's not what I mean. We don't have the resources to help everyone who needs medical attention. Maybe we would have those resources if people like her didn't support the system they do.”
“I understand that. I've read the literature, same as you. But that doesn't mean that I stop trying. I need to make my case to Aaron. Please, will you help me?”
“Help how?”
“I need you to watch her,” Justin said, and even as the words were coming out of his mouth, he could see Marti rolling her eyes. Pressing the subject, he told her, “You're the closest thing to a nurse or a doctor that I know. You're the only person that I trust right now.”
“Why trust me with this?”
“Because you know that this is what Uly would be doing right now. You know he wouldn't turn his back on her.”
Justin knew that playing the Uly card was low. While everything he said was true, Marti was still grieving for Uly. Using those emotions against her was not the most compassionate move in the world.
Clearly, Marti wanted to walk away. She was not a bad person by any means, but she was not in a good place right now. Justin thought that his experience at school had been difficult since Uly's death, but it was nothing compared to the girlfriend of the 'terrorist who wanted to kill babies.'
She didn't walk away. It wasn't in her nature. Despite her own need to take some time and put some distance between herself and the rest of the world, Marti walked closer to the bed and looked down at Amanda.
“Has she eaten anything?” she asked.
“I gave her some broth last night.”
“We need to feed her more. She needs strength.”
Justin nodded and said, “I'll make something.”
“I'll do it. You just go. I don't want to be here all night. Could you imagine what the kids at school will start saying about me if I walk out of your building tomorrow morning?”
“You're a good person, Marti.”
“That hasn't gotten me very far.”
“It's saved your soul.”
Marti smiled. It seemed like a genuine smile too, which made Justin feel that much worse. He was almost certain that Marti didn't believe in souls. She could have made a comment about his beliefs, but she didn't.
“I will get there and back as fast as I can. Hopefully with help.”
Justin started to walk toward the door, but Marti stopped him by saying, “Why are you really doing this?”
Turning back around, he replied, “Because she was always nice to me. It's the right thing to do.”
“And it has nothing to do with Libby?”
Justin tried to think of the right thing to say in response to that question. He couldn't quite figure out what he wanted to tell Marti. Finally, he just said, “She was always nice to me.”
And with that, Justin walked out of the room and out of the apartment. He had a long walk ahead of him.
24
Aaron was right. Having the words in her hands—as they were originally written—was a completely different experience than talking to people or reading scribblings of half-remembered lessons. Something had changed inside of Libby. It was like a switch had been flipped in her head, and she suddenly wanted to absorb everything. She wanted to understand the people around her and why the world was the way it was. More than that, she wanted to understand what was inside of her and why.
She sat in her room, holding printed pages in her hands, reading those words over and over again, comparing them to bootlegged copies that had been passed down through the generations.
The real words felt heavier. They felt definite, while the bootlegs had always sounded desperate to her. It had to be a trick that her mind was playing on her, but even realizing this couldn't stop her from feeling the heft of those words. 'We the people' was a bold statement in itself. These weren't people who were wishing for something or asking for something. These were people who were demanding the rights that every human being was born with.
How did it go so wrong? How could those documents be forgotten? At what point over the past six decades had the citizens of their country decided that it was acceptable to have their history stolen from them? It was a slow process, no doubt, but that was no excuse. There had to have been people who challenged the rules and protested.
Of course there were people. Even if Freedom hadn't been around for as long as this new system, there were tho
se who spoke up and demanded their rights. And for their effort, they became the tragic victims of contaminated food, or violent crimes.
Still, Libby couldn't figure out how so few copies of those documents survived. People had to have hidden them away. They had to have tried to preserve what was being taken. So how did it end up like this, with poorly worded imitations being passed around Freedom bases? It didn't make sense, and yet it had happened.
As she sat there, comparing those documents and thinking about the history surrounding them, the image of Uly popped into her mind. The look on his face that day, as he ran out of the hospital and declared that it was in their blood. She remembered seeing the fear in his eyes as he was being arrested, and then the shift that came over him. That look on his face, just before he turned to the crowd and yelled those words, was the look of a person who had seen these documents. He knew that they were out there for the taking.
Was it worth it? Was it worth Uly's life to have these documents in her hand, and the possibility of releasing those words back to the people to whom they belonged?
Libby kicked that question around her head for a few minutes before finally deciding that it ultimately wasn't for her to decide. Uly knew what he held inside of him, and he knew that if people discovered what was taken away from them, they would demand their rights. They would demand their freedom.
Or would they?
Somehow, these words had been forgotten. Somehow, people had allowed themselves to be fooled into giving up what was rightfully theirs. Was it because they were promised protection from illness? Jobs, food, and roofs over their heads? Did those bribes sound worthwhile back when those decisions had been made? And if so, how? Libby couldn't imagine anyone willingly handing over their freedom for what they eventually got in exchange. Hospitals that were dirty, poorly run and incapable of treating most of their patients. Homes that were crumbling around them. Food that was barely food at all. Was this security? Was this what it was like to be taken care of?