and right here."
Elizabeth looked up at him, genuinely surprised at his conviction.
"So what's he going to do then?" an onlooker wrote. "Go lie in an alley again? Be dependent on further charity? We're all starving, why should he get special treatment? Work is life, and he's got no job!" Supported by many readers, the onlooker's comment rose to the top of the discussion. The sea of noise took on a nasty tone.
An older man suddenly broke from the crowd, charging at the child. Caught off-guard, Og leapt in his way, pushing and struggling with him.
Several other men and women rushed into the fray, some shoving forward with murderous intent, some resisting and defending the small group.
"This is getting dangerous," Jason texted, looking down at her, the muscles in his jaw strained by adrenaline and tension. "We should leave."
She glared, holding the boy close. "No."
Both ranks began to swell with passive combatants shoving and pushing, all aware what real violence might mean - but it seemed only a matter of moments until someone threw the first real punch.
Comments began to flood her vision, coming in from practically everywhere as interested people sent links to the burgeoning riot to others.
Backing up against the gapsquare's waist-high wall, she kept the terrified boy next to her, wondering how the hell this had gotten so out of hand so quickly. They'd just asked a question… it was just a question…
"Let them kill me."
Stunned, she looked down.
The gaunt boy returned her gaze, his eyes glimmering with resigned tears. "It's not worth it. I didn't want to hurt anybody. I was just hungry."
"You can't be serious -"
"Sorry for taking the food," he said, holding the bread up and wavering in place weakly.
Jason accepted the chunk, frowning. "It's alright."
"I'm not going to let them kill you," she insisted, overwhelmed. "Come on, we can do this. We'll work it out."
He stood totally still for a moment - and then, in a startling burst of energy, he tore free from her grasp, clambered up on the gapsquare wall, and tumbled over.
She leaned over the side in horror, watching him splash into the sea below.
He did not attempt to tread water.
She could only stare as the inevitable followed.
His weakened body did not last long.
As his vitals went offline, the near-riot came to a slow, surprised cessation.
With the object of the argument dead, a massive deflation seemed to drain the crowd. It took a moment for most to figure out what had happened, but not much longer than that for murmured apologies and departures to begin. Many seemed relieved, but more seemed to remain bitter, eyeing their opponents with burning resentment.
In shock, she stood in place only half-aware, wishing she understood where the anger was coming from. Had something happened in the two years she'd been away? There didn't seem to be any theme to the sudden divide - there'd been Anglans, Oranis, and Nords on both sides of the massive shoving match.
The crowdflows resumed their normal patterns almost as quickly as they'd been disrupted.
Heart still racing painfully, she turned and stared down at the sea where the boy still floated upside-down, his arms out flat in the water. An Underman motored in his direction.
Og came up next to her and looked down as well. "At least he'll get to the Fields," he commented, seeing the approaching boat. "At least there's that."
"At least there's that…" she murmured, still numb.
Ripples in the Sea
"What the hell were you thinking?" Ragni demanded, rubbing his forehead as if to somehow assuage his worry.
"Dad, it's alright. Nobody got hurt."
The older Nord suddenly turned fierce. "You got lucky!" Breathing heavily, he paced around, leaning on his cane. "What was your plan? What did you intend to do with that boy if you did somehow save his life? You almost started a riot in the middle of the Main Hub. You could have all been killed!"
Grim-faced, Og remained silent, respectfully listening to his father vent.
Elizabeth lowered her head in apology.
Rolf leaned against smooth brown brick, sometimes looking up at the thin blue band of open sky between the enormous walls overhead. A scant crowdline moved through the cramped lane, and a few layabouts sat along the edges, many watching them with interest.
The old man finally seemed to tire, ceasing his tirade with a sigh. "I'm just glad you're alright."
"I know, dad."
"Your hearts were in the right place, but you have to have a better plan. You have to choose your battles. You can't do it alone, either. There's strength in numbers, in your family and friends."
Og spared an unhappy glance at Rolf. "I thought we had numbers."
Ragni glared at both young men. "Two or three, it doesn't matter! I'm talking ten thousand, a million. You know why the Tyrant was able to rule for thirteen years? Because he had this -" He pointed at the cell hanging against his heart, and then at the contacts glimmering in his eyes. "- and he had all the people who might resist him scared of their own secrets. Divide and conquer. It took thirteen years and nearly total unrest for our generation to bring that system down."
A harsh, high voice interrupted them.
"But you didn't bring it down," a girl accused, moving out of the crowdline to stalk brazenly up to them. "You made it total. You made it public. The Gangs took total control for decades, and even now, with all that twelve years behind us, the legacy of your mistake remains, like chains around our necks."
The old man paused for a moment, eyeing the rude newcomer. Her clothes set to black with delicate traceries of blue, her colors matching her hair, she took a moment to smirk sadistically at Rolf. "Hey, love."
He gazed back at her with unsurprised resentment, having noticed her approach on the map from quite a distance.
Elizabeth made a disgusted noise. "Kitna, leave us alone…"
"Us?" she tilted her head and raised her arms, offering a fight.
Ragni grunted, interrupting. "You're a little asinine about it, but I am not unreceptive to your point. We knew there was no going back when we took this route, but the trade was worth it. Better than having an omniscient system in the hands of one man - or a government. Now there are no secrets, and we're forced to get along as ourselves, without the lies and treachery of times past."
"Without the privacy, without the relief," Kitna shot back, her jaw set. She glanced at Elizabeth, roughly changing the subject. "You caused quite a stir with that near-riot. Thought I'd come see how my old friends are doing."
Ragni's expression sharpened as he caught the newcomer's glare again. The two - one young, one old - fought a battle of silent stares, each analyzing the other intently.
Og moved to step between them. "Hi, I'm -"
Ragni raised a hand, silencing his son, and spoke again to the bitter young woman before him. His gaze seemed at once distant and penetrating, and his tone ran oddly pointed. "Whatever your reasons, if you're here, then you're here. You should help Rolf focus on his work."
Rolf started with surprise, confused, but then - for a split second - his cheeks seemed to tremble with some slow realization. He subtly straightened his posture, all unhappiness with Kitna's presence inexplicably gone. "Alright…"
Ragni smiled sorrowfully, studying him up and down. "I had a friend just like you at my age, cold and calculating, and we clashed often… but I'm the better for having known him." He looked at his son pointedly as he spoke. "But for right now, you kids need to get out of here. Go to a Hangout, do what young people do. For better or worse, the eyes of society are upon you now, and you'd best remember that."
With a respectful nod, Og turned away in silence.
"Thanks," Elizabeth offered.
Ragni smiled sadly. "Have fun."
Rolf followed his two colleagues, passing the old man with a confused glance of fear and curiosity. Kitna gave a parting hateful glare, following
after Rolf.
Og pushed his way through the flows, leading the four of them toward the opposite end of the Main Hub.
"Six hours left in Eve shift," he thought aloud, his tone heavy with other thoughts. His jaw trembled for a moment, and then he shook his head - but he said nothing.
Rolf watched his vitals, well aware of his tall friend's emotional state. He wanted to say something, to explain himself, but he already felt terribly exposed from the opinions Kitna had voiced to Ragni. Although she'd been the one to speak, they'd felt like his words. The weight of the cell against his chest seemed to burn him with some raw unidentifiable pain.
"What, no welcome back?" Kitna asked, curling her arm in his as they walked. "It's been two years."
He pulled away angrily. "And yet, still not long enough."
She donned a sarcastic grin, not in the least fazed.
Jason sat at the long chrome bar at the back of the Hangout. He stared down past his clear liquor at the bar's cherry-brown colorization, wondering, briefly, why brown was the traditional overlay. Had bars once been made of some other material, something naturally brown?
The grey-haired Orani sitting next to him, Edmundo, took a gulp of his own drink. He sighed with satisfaction. "Eh, what can you do?"
"I just stood there, Ed. Like an idiot. I should have jumped in the water after that kid. Or, I should have said something, but I didn't, and she just walked away."
"Ha, well, that's blondes," his mentor replied with a shrug. "It's hard to get what everyone wants. At least you've still got Lisa."
Jason looked up at the flat metal plate high on the wall, following the virtual image overlaid on