by Jason Luthor
Before the burial, I show up with Tommy, who’s acting as president. We’re not there alone. General Martin, Representative Tiffany Anne, and Representative Michael Tan are all there. So are the four leaders from the Sha’b whose dead are buried there, along with the militia and soldiers from Fort Silence. Erin Donoghue, Marc Lopez, Ashanti Bonsu, and Ned Lancaster. Before the ceremonies start, I find Kali at the base of the statue, crying.
I just ask her three words. “Are you alright?”
“Belinda’s gone,” she tells me as she stands there, with no armor and just wearing her dress uniform, her body wrapped deep inside of her jacket. Her hand plants against the base of the statue as she tries to hold back from screaming out of her pain. “I just need to be alone.”
“I understand. I’ll be here when you need me.”
So, I leave her alone and wait until things get started. When they do, all the leaders, me included, sit on stage. Father O’Connor commemorates the dead, giving a sermon about the importance about fighting for what we believe in and the cost of peace. Priests. In the Tower, we never had them. All we believed in there was the Builders. Out here . . . Mike believed in something more, something after this life. He learned that from Cynthia. I spot her in one of the front rows, her arm wrapped around Mandy, who’s got her face buried in her sister’s arms.
As I’m sitting there, listening to some guy I’ve never met talking about faith and the afterlife . . . I don’t know what to think. I’ve seen amazing things, things that don’t make sense. I know dimensions exist outside this one. But sitting there, listening to the idea that something else exists after we die . . . I don’t know how to take it. I’m not sure whether I believe it or not. That’s not something you just make a decision on overnight. What I know’s that there are a lot of people there who do believe. That’s what matters to me, and that’s why I’m fine sitting through that part of the memorial.
When Tommy goes up to speak, I can relate a little more. “The people we bury today,” he starts, “Were our neighbors. Our friends. Our family. The people we loved. They gave their lives for the causes they believed in. Maybe we don’t always agree with each other. Maybe sometimes we fight for causes that aren’t clear. And maybe, sometimes, we’re just deceived into fighting with each other because that’s what we’re best at.”
He raises his head up, his sharp features cutting against the sky as he looks over the crowd. “But they gave their lives for us. For us to be here. And now, we have a chance to create a better future out of their sacrifices. No matter what side they were on, I believe the men and women who are buried here, today, wanted peace for the future. Some of them were born into the harshest circumstances imaginable, scraping by just to survive in the Deadlands. Others were conscripted almost from birth, chosen to be soldiers before they knew the meaning of the word. Still others volunteered because they thought the cause was right. Yet others were innocents, who never wanted a part of war and were just caught up in this tragic conflict. All we can do today is honor their sacrifices and promise them that we will make a better tomorrow from what they gave us. And let’s not mistake what they gave us. They gave their lives so the people they love could live. The least we owe them is a promise that we will take advantage of the gift of life that they gave us.”
It's a cold day in winter when we say goodbye to over twenty-eight thousand, nine hundred family and friends. They’re spread over an area a few miles long, their final resting place looking out over the river and a state that’s symbolized liberty and freedom for almost a thousand years.
“Let us never forget this amazing gift they gave us,” Tommy says, looking out over a crowd of thousands of people that stretch into the park, his voice broadcasting from his mic and out of the speakers lining the parkways. “They were the best of us. The best of humanity. Let’s honor their sacrifices. Together, as one people. Until Tower’s end.”
Maybe he says it instinctually. It’s the way those of us from the Tower have said goodbyes and ended prayers since we were kids. But when he says it, there’s just a delay until everyone repeats it: “Until Tower’s end.” And then we sit against the shoreline, listening as the military bugles play in honor of the dead. All I can do is sit and breathe, my fists tightening as I try to keep myself under control. While I try not to cry. Because, the second it’s all over? The second Tommy stops . . . we’re swarmed. There are hundreds of people who leave, but hundreds more who push toward the stage. And I can see the militia commanders in attendance being surrounded by people who know them. I can see Tommy being circled by soldiers who put their trust in him and are looking for hope.
And I can also see them pushing toward me. Men and women. Wives who are crying over their dead husbands. Husbands who are holding their heads and trying to keep from screaming over their dead wives. Sons and daughters, mourning their lost parents. Brothers and sisters, crying about their dead siblings. Some of them fall into my arms. Others just bury their faces into my shoulders. Others wrap their arms around me. And . . . all I can do is hold one of them after another, telling them it will be okay. Letting them know that the people they loved sacrificed themselves for something good. They died for them, for the people they cared about.
When I grew up in the Tower, I watched movies and read books about heroes. Some of them were just normal people. Others had powers, like superpowers. They fought, and they beat villains. They saved people and cities. The thing is, you always saw the survivors, but . . . the stories never talked about the people who died during those fights. The hundreds, or thousands, who died because they didn’t have the powers those heroes had. They were just innocent people caught in the crossfire. Some were police or soldiers who never stood a chance in the fight. They were never going to make it. But the stories don’t talk about them.
The stories don’t tell you what it’s like when a woman you’ve never met is pounding your chest and begging to know why her husband died in the battle. The stories don’t tell you about what it’s like to have no answers, because you never even met the guy. The stories don’t say anything about a man with his head in your arms, tears running down his face as he asks you why you didn’t save his daughter when you have so much power.
You can have all the power humanity’s ever seen, but you’re still human. You can’t save everyone. But you can do your best. And, after it’s all over, you have to keep doing your best to comfort the people who’re left behind. Because you’re human. And in a world like this, with the Creep . . . no. No, the Creep has nothing to do with it. Death has always been a part of life, a long time before the Creep was here. Death has always been with us, as long as we’ve been human. So, in a world like we’ve always had, we need to be kind to each other. To be there for each other. Because all of this? Life? It’s all over a lot faster than we think it’s going to be. A lot faster than we’d want.
I wish I could see Mike again.
Jackie’s Recording 43
“Symbols mean something.”
That’s what Tommy tells me as he latches the golden chain around my neck, the heavy white Mantle Victoriam hanging near my shoulders and down my back. “I know Tommy, it’s just . . .”
“The Mantle Victoriam is an honor dating back to Central Freedom’s earliest days. It’s an honor. Besides all of that, it’s been a couple of days since the funeral. The people need to something to inspire them after everything they’ve gone through. Who better than the Angel of Freedom?”
“That, right there, is the worst nickname they’ve come up with since I got here,” I tell him. “At least Heavy Metal has a nice ring to it.”
“And the Vanguard will always call you by that, but the people of Central are always going to think of you as the Angel. If you’re not going to be the Dark Angel anymore, they’re still going to call you the Angel of Freedom, or just the Angel. Can’t deny the will of the people, Jackie.”
“I wouldn’t even try anymore.”
He walks up in front of me and gives me a sho
ve. “Hey. How is the girl who tore apart an army and saved humanity’s last city going to act shy just because she has to give a speech?”
“The only reason I’m even going to do it is because you’re going first.”
“I have to. I’m the president. You’re the show.”
“I thought I was the symbol.”
“You’re both. You need to show them a sign that tomorrow’s going to be alright. They’ll believe me, but you’re the one who everyone saw wrecking her way through an army that was at the gates of the Green Zone. They need to hear from you.”
“And this?” I ask him as I lift the thick cloth sitting around my shoulders. “I guess I should feel honored. I know how impressed I was when I saw Branagh wearing it.”
He shakes his head. “Well, he was the last person to earn it before you. I think he’d want you to have it, just like he wanted you to wear that uniform he put away for you.”
“I guess it did feel good wearing that to fight against Fort Silence.”
“And you looked very handsome doing it. A real born leader. Kind of a strange twist from the Jackie I grew up with in the Tower who thought everyone hated her.”
That gets a smile out of me. “That feels like such a long time ago.”
“Well, it was.”
“Tommy . . . Tonight, when this is all over . . .”
“Yeah. You, me, Dodger, Cynthia, and Mandy. We’ll sit and have drinks and reminisce on the good times.” He stops and turns to the door, listening as General Martin’s voice announces that we’ll be taking the stage soon. “You ready?”
“I feel like a nutter wearing this mantle. White cloak on white armor? Really?”
“You look amazing. Now, come on. Everyone’s waiting for us.” Those are the last things he says before he leads the way out. We walk out of the small trailer and onto the street, the two of us making our way to the temporary stage that’s been set up on one end of the city square. The second we step out, I feel my breath stick in my chest. The last time I stood there, the square was dead. With all of the city’s power diverted to keeping Central’s repulsion field alive, there was no power to divert to the city’s electricity. With the Northwest Creep Colony gone, that’s not an issue anymore.
I walk out into the night air and see towers lit up from top to bottom. Huge, electronic panels as big as buildings themselves are showing images of the city from its glory days. A huge row of electronic displays climbing one tower have images of Tommy and other city leaders, with words scrolling along the bottom announcing the rebirth of the city. I have no doubt in my mind that Doc Watson broke his back getting all this running over the last few days, and probably made everyone’s life miserable with his complaining while he was doing it. Still . . . seeing it all lit up, I just think it was all worth the effort. The massive screens suddenly shift images to me and Tommy as Baby Boys drift around the stage, transmitting the scene to the thousands of people lining the streets.
Anyway, the whole city erupts in applause the second we’re up the stairs, making so much noise that my ears are ringing, and my feet feel wobbly from the stage shaking. Tommy steps up to greet Martin with a handshake before he steps up to the podium. Meanwhile, I take a seat next to Dodger and Michael Tan. As the only actual representatives left over, Tommy really wanted the two of them there to show that the city would be going back to its democratic roots.
It takes a second for the crowds to quiet down. The first few dozen rows are all militia and military members. Nobody stands out more than the Vanguard, who look like giants in their overly sized armor. They’re so big that they have to stand off to the side, so the view isn’t blocked. The worst part is that the suits have all been repainted, and I actually feel a little embarrassed when I see them. God. Just thinking about it . . . They’re all in white. Color matching is terrible. At least they took off their helmets for the occasion, and I spot Kali, who’s smiling at me as she claps with those gargantuan hands of hers. I can’t help but notice she’s come in a ‘dressier’ variation of her armor, if you can call it that, with one of her shoulder pauldrons carved so that it looks like a golden eagle. It’s almost as ridiculous as Neddy, who’s standing next to her in that gargantuan armor of his and that magnificent cloak hanging from his shoulders. It makes me wonder if I’m the only person who doesn’t like to show off.
When the crowd finally settles down, which takes a while since the cheering stretches for more than a mile down a couple of city blocks, Tommy bows his head slightly. “Thank you, everyone, for coming today. On behalf of General Martin and Representatives Michael Tan and Tiffany Anne, I want to thank you all for making the time to celebrate with us. You may have noticed there’s one name I left out, a person that’s on this stage.” When he says it, he smiles at the crowd, and everyone bursts out into a roar that he has to speak over for a second. That smile of his is so Tommy. I would have hated it when we lived in the Tower. “I’ll let her talk to you in her own words,” he says as the crowds quiet down again. “But for now, if you’ll give me a moment, I wanted to talk about history.
“The history of mankind has not been entirely lost to us, but we’ve lost enough. Many of our hand-written books were destroyed a long time before the Creep ever arrived, and our computer records were mangled by the disaster that hit our world hundreds of years ago. But we’ve been able to put fairly large pieces of the past together. From it, one thing is very clear: the history of humanity has been defined by war. From ancient times to the August War that nearly wiped humanity off the planet, humans have been fighting. Not all of those conflicts were worth fighting, but some were. The wars we fought to free the oppressed or bring justice to those who couldn’t find it for themselves . . . Well, just like everything else, war is a tool that can only be defined as good or evil based on how we use it.
“The truth though, is that we’ve always been too eager to fight wars for terrible causes. That left us with the war that drove humanity to one last city. Central Freedom. Because of poor choices, we almost destroyed our home again. Instead of listening to each other and trying to cooperate with one another, we chose the easy way. We chose to go to war with each other so that we could impose our wills on those we didn’t agree with.”
Tommy stops for a second, his eyes dropping to the podium. He smiles, but his face contorts, like he’s in pain. “The former president, President Branagh . . .” There’s a brief interlude as the crowds cheer, and Tommy’s smile grows as he looks back into the square. “I’m glad you agree. President Branagh was always trying to find a compromise, some way for us to work together. He was a politician, but he’d also served in the militia. He knew the cost of fighting, knew that it cost lives. So, where other people saw him as weak, the truth was that he was one of the strongest men I knew. He was strong enough to say no to the easy option. He was strong enough to say no to warfare unless it was absolutely necessary. He didn’t always make the right choices, but none of us ever do.
“The truth is that there are always going to be reasons to go to war. Peace will always be the more difficult choice. Listening to each other is always going to be the more difficult choice. What I’m asking from all of us as we go forward is that we learn from the mistakes of our past, and that includes our recent past. As a species, we’ve nearly wiped ourselves off the face of the earth. If we want to thrive again, we have to put our differences aside and listen to each other. We’ve fought for and won a temporary peace between the people of the surrounding Deadlands and Central Freedom. If we want to make it a permanent one, then we have to be willing to hear each other out.”
He stops as his face turns serious for a second. “Which is why the people of the Deadlands, the Sha’b, will have a seat at the Advisory Council from now on, so that we can hear their side moving forward. As long as I’ve lived in Central, we’ve been fighting with those living around us. We can’t do that anymore if we want to survive as a species. In the same way, we will also be restoring the old ties between ourselves and F
ort Silence. A generation ago, the fort was a part of Central. Those of us living on this island have always thought about the fortress as just that, a military outpost. But there are thousands of families living within its sphere of protection that just want to live in peace. I will be working with leaders from the fortress so that we can reunite as one people again.”
Tommy gestures out to the crowd. “And while some of us living here in Central Freedom might still be scared of those living around us, I’d like to point out that Central is free today because of the same people we used to fight against.” His hand motions to someone in the front row, and for the first time, I realize Erin’s in the crowd. “Erin Donoghue, one of the top-ranking members of the Sha’b, led the fight for our freedom by piloting the military Panzer.” His hand moves again, this time to Kali, standing there in her armor. “Devleena Kumar is a member of Fort Silence’s elite DEC troopers, and she nearly gave her life trying to free us from a tyrant who manipulated us and threw us into a war against each other.”
He pauses one last time as he looks out at everyone. “I know it won’t be easy for some of us to live in peace with one other at first. That’s why we’ll be discussing our issues together, as one body, in the Advisory Council. All I want for everyone here to remember is how close we’ve come to destroying our people in the past. That threat will always exist if we refuse to believe the best about each other and instead see only the worst. So, in the end, all that I’m saying . . . is give peace a chance. If not for humanity’s sake, then for the sake of your friends and family. We are all that we have to lose if we rush into war with each other again.”