by Isamu Fukui
When should he tell her? That was the question. Umasi had managed to put it off until now. A part of him wanted to pick up Zen first and then present him to Iris as his explanation. But no, she deserved better than to be blindsided like that. Iris was a sharp woman, surely she’d have noticed Umasi’s strange behavior lately. Yet she had asked no questions, probably waiting for him to approach her. He did not want to. The prospect of having to tell her he was leaving filled him with guilt.
But that conversation would have to come sooner or later. The new Mayor had learned from the old one’s example and mistakes. He would accept the responsibility of fatherhood—and that would mean abandoning his responsibility as Mayor.
Umasi sighed. “Life is so complicated.”
He continued to struggle with his thoughts for many more minutes. As time dragged on, the room seemed to swim around him, new worries mingling with old memories. Umasi’s eyes were drawn to a bat lying on the floor, and he felt a phantom pain from the past. He groaned almost inaudibly, and then turned his head away.
Finally, after hours in the dark, Umasi shut his eyes and fell into slumber.
* * *
“Well, this is a nostalgic moment, isn’t it?”
Umasi’s eyes snapped open, and then blinked.
White. All he could see was white.
Raising a hand to rub his eyes, Umasi was convinced that he was hallucinating. Opening them again, he creased his brow in frustration.
He knew this feeling. He had experienced this once before. That had been years ago, the last in a series of nightmares long banished. The ceiling, the surroundings, the floor upon which he sat all appeared to be a landscape of white so pure that it was impossible to tell where the ground ended and the sky began.
Looking at himself, Umasi saw that even his garments had turned white, and the two swords at his sides were both unbroken and metal. Just like the ones from his old dreams.
Umasi frowned. “Impossible.”
“Well of course it is—that’s the point of dreams, isn’t it?”
Umasi spun around, looking for whoever had addressed him. There, standing before him was a figure he had nearly forgotten, a phantom he had never imagined meeting again. In body and dress he looked very much like Umasi. However, he wore an olive green jacket that stretched all the way down to his boots, and a hood cast his entire face into shadow.
Umasi pointed at the phantom accusingly. “I got rid of you a long time ago.”
The boy seemed to smile beneath his hood.
“I have always been, and will always be a part of you.”
Umasi folded his arms. “I haven’t been frightened by childish nightmares for years now. I won’t play your game.”
“That’s a shame. We never did get to finish ours.”
“What do you mean?”
The boy chuckled. Then, in one swift motion, he lifted his hood. Umasi felt his mind shut down as he found himself looking at a familiar face—a boy with a ponytail.
Zyid smiled. “Long time no see, brother.”
“But— But you’re dead!”
“Yes, that’s correct,” Zyid agreed. “Thank you for noticing.”
Umasi shut his jaw as he began to think again. Remembering that this was, after all, a dream, some sense of reason began to return to the situation.
“You’re not real,” Umasi said. “This conversation means nothing.”
“I’m exactly as real as you standing right there,” Zyid countered. “And on the contrary, I feel that we have plenty of meaningful things to discuss.”
Zyid pointed his hand at Umasi’s side. Before Umasi realized what was happening, one of his swords flew out of its sheath and into Zyid’s waiting grasp.
“Incidentally, thank you for keeping my sword in good shape.” Zyid smiled. “It was yours that was broken, wasn’t it?”
Umasi drew his remaining blade. “How did you know—”
“Don’t be silly, Umasi, I am you,” Zyid replied. “There’s nothing you know that I do not.”
As Umasi expected, Zyid charged forward with impossible speed. In an instant he was in front of Umasi, and Umasi barely managed to parry the slash. The force of the impact sent Umasi flying backwards, though somehow he landed safely with his feet planted onto an unseen wall.
“Must we fight like this?” Umasi asked, craning his head to look at Zyid from his awkward perch. “I thought we’d already settled our grudge.”
“And that we did. Your mind, however, is still a mess,” Zyid replied. “I thought you could use some focus.”
With that Zyid threw his sword, and it spun through the air towards Umasi. Umasi leapt aside as the sword passed through the space he had been standing. He landed back on the ground as the sword arced back towards Zyid, who caught it with ease.
“I don’t need your help, Zyid.” Umasi closed the distance between them with a single step. “I’ll figure things out by myself.”
“Well then, I offer my humble opinion.” Zyid ducked Umasi’s slash and sent him flying with a hook kick. “Concerning my new namesake—I’m honored, by the way—I take it that you are already decided?”
Umasi skidded across the unseen ground. “Of course.”
“I approve.” Zyid smiled. “You always enjoyed the mentoring business more than I did. Honestly, I think you’ll end up making a decent father.”
“Knowing his uncle, I’d better.”
“Worried that he might follow in my footsteps and destroy a city?” Zyid said amusedly. “Ah, well, who knows? It’s good for children to dream big.”
Umasi hurled his sword like a harpoon. The blade shot towards Zyid with incredible speed, but Zyid simply knocked it aside with his own. Umasi watched as the sword fell through what should have been the floor and vanished as a speck into the infinite whiteness.
“Speaking of our family,” Zyid continued. “How about that Iris?”
Umasi frowned. “What about her?”
“She’s my kind of lady.” Zyid grinned. “Of course, if I were still alive I’m sure we would have disliked each other instantly. Strong personalities have a way of clashing like that.”
“Would you have continued to rebel against her?”
“Probably.” Zyid looked thoughtful. “Personally I think that her camps are an abomination, but that’s Takan’s problem now.”
A faint whistling sound filled the air, and Umasi looked up to see his lost sword falling down towards him. He extended his hand upwards, and seconds later the blade fell into his grasp by its hilt.
“So you’re not mad?” Umasi said. “About me becoming the new Mayor?”
“You’ll find that death has improved my temper quite a bit,” Zyid quipped. “No, I’m not angry. I’m not even surprised, to be frank.”
Umasi took a deep breath. “I did try to keep your dying wish—”
“And you did it well enough for long enough.” Zyid waved a hand dismissively. “The Truancy is gone. You fulfilled your obligation. Now you have new ones to keep.”
The two brothers raised their blades.
“What are you talking about?” Umasi asked.
Zyid flew through the air at Umasi, sword bared. Umasi blocked the onslaught, and for a moment they looked at each other face-to-face. Then the pressure gave way, and both of them were sent free-falling through the air.
“First, you obviously have an obligation to your son,” Zyid called, his voice echoing through the white space. “Take care of him as best you can.”
“I know that much!” Umasi retorted, landing this time on an invisible ceiling.
“Second, you have an obligation to our sister,” Zyid said, landing on the floor far away. “You’ve sulked and hid for long enough. You owe her a proper explanation. Swallow your fears, she’ll understand.”
Umasi bizarrely felt as though blood were rushing to his head.
“I can’t,” he said. “I owe her more than just an explanation. She never complains, but I can tell that the stress is ge
tting to her. To leave her now, when the City is at its worst—”
“I was just getting to that,” Zyid interrupted. “You have a third obligation, to this City as its Mayor. You don’t have to abandon it just yet, Umasi.”
Umasi frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It looks like you’re smiling from where I am, did you know that? No, I kid,” Zyid laughed. “It’s simple, isn’t it? Take your son under your protection. Plan your escape for when the time comes, but stay for as long as you can. You can be there for our sister, if indeed you want that so badly.”
The suggestion made sense. Suddenly Umasi felt the world shift around him. When he looked up again he was standing on flat ground, facing Zyid. Things felt right once more.
“The war is getting worse by the day,” Umasi murmured. “Barring a miracle, we won’t be able to stay for long.”
Zyid nodded. “It will have to be enough.”
“You’re right,” Umasi said, raising his sword. “I think I feel better now.”
Zyid grinned. “Then let’s finish this.”
Umasi and Zyid ran at each other with swords outstretched. There was no more unnatural speed, no impossible acrobatics, and when they met their swords pierced right through their targets. For several moments the two of them stood there, impaled by each other. Then, finally, they embraced.
Umasi looked down and saw that black smoke seemed to be leaking out from Zyid, flowing up the blade and into him. Umasi’s white clothes began to return to the black he had remembered falling asleep in. It was a disconcerting effect, and Umasi knew what it meant.
Umasi looked back up at his brother as the world around him began to dissolve into darkness.
“Is this our final good-bye?” Umasi asked.
“Oh, I doubt it.”
Zyid’s voice seemed to echo faintly as it too began to fade.
“We can always meet again in dreams.”
* * *
Noni shook her can of spray-paint, putting the finishing touches on her graffiti. A group of mixed adults and teenagers gazed up at the large purple C up on the wall.
“It’ll make a nice marker for the final resting place of those tanks,” a former student observed. “I can’t wait to blow them up.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Noni told him. “It could just as easily turn out to be our epitaph. I’m putting this up so that everyone will know we fought here, one way or another.”
“So that was the idea behind those damn Truancy symbols?” one of the adults said. “We Enforcers always thought you kids were just making graffiti for the hell of it.”
Noni tossed the can of spray-paint aside, and then turned around to face the man.
“Nothing Zyid did was without purpose, Mr. Vito,” she told him. “Now get to your position. That goes for everyone. If we survive this, you might learn something.”
The rebels saluted and scattered into the surrounding buildings. More were already waiting on the rooftops and upper floors. This operation would be important for morale, and Noni had been chosen to lead it. Their objective was to destroy a pair of Government tanks patrolling the area, to prove that the tanks were not invincible.
Though their insurgency had met a number of successes, some weapons of the Government continued to thwart the Citizens’ Rebellion. In particular their tanks were more than just armored weapons of war—they were tools of intimidation. Citizens with memories of encountering the hulking abominations usually did not wish to do so again. So far none of them had ever been destroyed. Noni was determined to break that trend.
Over the past week Noni had volunteered for more missions than anyone, catching a few hours of sleep here and there between battles. While Cross and Takan mostly plotted from behind the front lines, Noni preferred to put herself out in the field every chance she got. This had earned her the respect of her subordinates, even the former Enforcers.
Vito, the man who had spoken earlier, took his position at a window right next to Noni. Together they waited for their prey to approach.
“How long do you think it’ll take?” Vito asked.
“Not long,” Noni said brusquely. “The scouts said they— wait, listen.”
A distant rumble reached their ears, growing steadily louder. Vito glanced at Noni, looking nervous. She did not look back at him. Her attention was completely drawn to the road outside, and the red markers they had placed there.
The enemy came into sight. The tank led the group, followed by a Humvee and a few soldiers on foot. They moved slowly, on the lookout for any danger. The citizens had been extra careful in choosing their hiding places, and this attack was being conducted in the middle of the afternoon—they had long since learned that Government soldiers had equipment to see in the dark.
Noni reached into her pocket and pulled out a detonator as she saw the tank reach the first set of markers. Vito glanced from the detonator to the tank. She ignored him. Thus far no explosives they had attempted had been of any use against the tanks. This time they were trying something a little different.
The tank finally reached the second set of markers, now in the middle of an intersection. The soldiers and Humvee were hanging a little behind, but nothing could be done about that. Noni smiled grimly, then pressed the detonator.
A small earthquake rocked the ground as an enormous explosion went off in the sewers beneath the tank. Vito gaped as the entire intersection collapsed. The tank shuddered and fell into the resulting sinkhole, tipped over onto one side. Its treads began to turn, but had no luck dislodging itself from the pit.
Noni brought a radio to her mouth.
“Fire.”
A barrage of rockets shot down from the surrounding buildings, striking the tank from the top. Flames blossomed from the tank, the whole thing reduced to a burning wreck. Noni heard a cheer go up from the buildings. Slowly the rebellion was figuring out which parts of the tanks were more vulnerable.
“It worked!” Vito exclaimed. “No wonder the Truancy did so well against us.”
“Don’t celebrate yet,” Noni snapped, raising her rifle.
Already the soldiers were scattering for cover, and the Humvee’s mounted gun fired away at the rebel positions. Noni could hear the roar of the second tank bringing up the rear, and knew that they had precious little time before their hiding places became vulnerable. Noni fired at one of the soldiers out in the open, and was rewarded by seeing him fall.
Another rocket sailed down from above and into the Humvee, and a moment later it too was in flames. Gunfire from the buildings rained down on the survivors, and Noni began moving, followed closely by Vito. The second tank came into sight. It pointed its main gun at the building where most of the citizens were firing from. There was a flash from the barrel, and then a large chunk of the building fragmented. Noni could hear screams on her radio.
“That doesn’t look good,” Vito said, firing at one of the remaining soldiers. “We should get out while we’re still ahead—we’ve already proved our point.”
“We came for two, we’re going to get two,” Noni insisted. “I’ll handle this. Cover me.”
Noni reached into her pack and withdrew a thermite grenade. It was a Government weapon, designed to melt and disable equipment. The Government had lately been finding increasingly large gaps in their shipments of weapons.
As ordered, Vito kept firing at whatever soldiers were left outside. Noni was pleased to see that the tank’s crew didn’t dare open their hatches to man the machine guns for fear of fire from above. This gave her an opening.
Noni darted out into the open, heading straight for the tank. A few bullets flew in her direction, but for the most part the soldiers had other targets to worry about. Noni quickly reached the intimidating war machine, and before its crew could notice her, she leapt up and grabbed the enormous muzzle of its cannon.
Hanging from the cannon by one arm as the battle raged farther down the street, Noni yanked the pin from the thermite grenade using her teeth. Then
she shoved it down the barrel of the cannon. Noni dropped from the tank and sprinted away just as the grenade went off. A terrific spray of red sparks poured from the barrel.
Just then the tank fired, and for the first time that evening Noni smiled as the round detonated inside the barrel. The tank shuddered from the explosion, and then began smoking, its barrel a twisted mess. Whether the crew had survived or not, the second tank was out of commission.
Before Noni or any of the other citizens could celebrate, there came a screech of airplanes from above—weapons that the rebellion truly had no counter to. Noni knew that the rebels would be scattering as fast as they could, but there was no time. An enormous explosion simply consumed one of the nearby buildings where a group of rebels had been hiding.
Noni seized her radio. “Everyone, get out of here!”
She didn’t need to add that they had accomplished their mission. There was restrained cheering on the radio as the surviving rebels beat a hasty retreat into the surrounding buildings and alleys. In this dense part of the urban jungle, the soldiers would pay dearly for any pursuit.
Another hour, another battle, another success. Noni was beginning to enjoy her work routine. She smiled as she spotted her graffiti, still intact on its wall. The fight was going well.
* * *
Sitting on the roof of the Mayoral Mansion, Iris sighed and raised her binoculars to her eyes. More smoke, rising in the distance. Another attack. She mulled the situation over as aircraft streaked overhead. Air support had been scrambled quickly, but Iris knew it wouldn’t be fast enough—most of the rebels would have time to get away, as they always did.
The General slammed her fist against her knee. They just didn’t understand that this path would end badly for everyone, them and herself alike. Worse, Iris couldn’t explain it to them. They would simply dismiss her words as lies or threats.
A flash went off in the distance. The bomber had dropped its ordinance. Iris put her binoculars down and rested her forehead against her knuckles. The situation was only growing worse by the hour. Each misstep she made, each casualty she suffered, each escalation to the conflict only inspired further resistance. This cycle, Iris knew, would only end in one way if she could not find a way to break it.