turned. "How?"
"A lot of people were talking about how the Islander took off his cell in response to some guy shouting at him. They think he talked, or at least communicated something. I took a look, and… it was you. I'm not sure I would have ever found you otherwise."
He watched as the blurry giant stood and lifted his hammer, returning to work. He could see a small object shift on the man's chest - the Islander had gotten another cell, just like he would have to.
"So did he say something?" Og asked again, curious.
He wondered if the burly stranger had intended - no, it was too much of a longshot. It had to have been random chance. But still, he'd actually spoken… he'd cared, in some manner. "No."
"Oh. Too bad, I guess."
"Come on, let's go get you a cell," Elizabeth said, putting an arm around his midsection and helping him move away from the Edge.
Og supported his other side. "Let's get some materials and set that arm, too. What else?"
"Clothes." She crinkled her nose. "And a shower, ugh!"
He limped forward between them, feeling strangely whole for some reason. "Hey, now…"
She laughed, her manner light, relieved, and hopeful.
They eyed the mazelike buildings of civilization proper. Without his contacts, they stood now rundown, dingy, and grey. The sensory assault that had formerly pained him now seemed a cheery mask; a mask that had obscured the pathetic reality that they lived over a dead and polluted sea on a long band of lifeless stone and rusted metal, itself the tiniest portion of a world so devastated it had even ceased to turn. The Unsetting Sun warmed his raw skin, watching from afar and shedding light on the truth of the world humanity had built for itself. Nobody had chosen it, no individual or specific group was at fault - and yet the result was still the same.
He almost preferred the mask.
In spite of it all, his heart was light and strong. He was no child this time. He saw the world as it was, but he also knew now that the world could change. It had gotten a little worse, but that meant it could also get better… if only somebody would start making those choices that nobody wanted to take upon themselves. A sidelong glance found Elizabeth under his arm, nodding in determination. Was she thinking the same thoughts?
He felt again that corrugated rod, his soul lashing out in anger, that old owner falling into the water, dead by his surprised hand - as startled as he had been that the supposed order of things could be so violated. That feeling of power still lingered in his heart… the power to change things - it did exist.
But for a beast as large as civilization itself, he would need a much bigger weapon than a rusty support rod. He didn't know what he would do with it if he found it, but the time for running and hiding was over. It was time to take control of his own future.
Elizabeth might have been thinking about the same goal, but he knew with certainty that his chosen path to that end would be far different.
"Are you ready, Rolf?" Og asked.
He met the Nord's questioning gaze, this time completely sincere. "Yes."
The character of the streets had changed completely. Huddled groups watched them pass. Clusters of people often blocked entire passages, men and women with jobs paradoxically sitting around like layabouts instead of working. The air was quiet; musics few and far between.
Parents kept their children close. Bloodstains still marred the stone beneath his feet, but the atmosphere was not one of fear or horror.
As he limped along, supported by his promise-family, he realized he really had no idea what had gone on in all the chaos he'd run away from.
"What happened? With the refinery and the Unionization attempt?"
Elizabeth looked to Og. A large range of emotions crossed the Nord's face.
"The people at the refinery, they're… dead, mostly," he finally said quietly.
"How did you survive the explosion? Weren't you both there?"
She let out a loud breath. "Ask him."
Og's cheeks burned as red as his beard. "People just listened, that's all."
"Listened?" he asked, brow furrowed. "To what?"
"We had some warning that one of the main lines was about to rupture - it was closer to you than it was to us - and I was already talking to the crowd, trying to keep people calm… and instead of panicking, they just… listened. I had the idea, from what they did with the Field harvester-operators after the first real riot. If we all moved at the same pace, and in an orderly manner, we could all escape much more quickly."
"People listened and worked together?" he breathed, giving a weak laugh of surprise, his ribs punishing him for the sentiment. "They must really have thought it was the end of the world…" Momentarily terrified, suddenly remembering the dead man's switch, he nearly fell. "The list! The million people! What happened with that?"
"My dad got you off the list," Og replied, grinning broadly.
"But what happened to the rest?"
"Um, nothing yet. At least not to the ones that survived the riots."
"What, really?"
"They're going to have a forum to figure out what to do about it," the Nord explained. "Once everything calms down."
So that was why the bomb hadn't gone off already… whatever portion of the million had survived the chaos, the man or woman linked to the bomb must have numbered among them. There was still time. There was still a chance.
"They want him to be one of the moderators of the forum when it happens," Elizabeth said, visibly proud. "He's got quite the reputation, especially after the refinery."
Rolf blinked. "Wow. Good on you."
Og's sheepish grin grew wide enough to threaten his ears. "Oh, it's no big deal. We're in the public eye now, like my dad said."
"So we are."
"It's really Elizabeth that's the big deal, anyhow."
"Why? What happened?" He looked to her.
"Well…" She hesitated, now sheepish herself. "I just caught their attention. I don't even know why I did it, really. I just thought there might be a chance to help."
"What did you do?"
"I sat with the older Scientists that tried to hash things out with the union leader at the refinery."
"Right, I saw that. What happened?"
"Well, nothing really… we had to evacuate before they could hold a vote or decide anything. And then it all blew up…" She looked down at her feet as they walked. "Dierk was in there."
"Is he…?"
"Yeah. Jason, too. He stopped to help some abandoned children, and he didn't get away in time."
Rolf's response was quiet. "Jason? I don't think I ever met him…"
"Oh."
They let a moment of respectful silence pass.
"Dierk said to tell you he was joining the union, actually. He said you would understand," she said. "You and… Kit."
He nodded gravely, recalling the strange young man's face. "I wish I'd had the chance to know him better… I'll look up his lifelog sometime. But wait, whose attention did you catch?"
"The union's."
"But I thought everyone at the refinery -"
He stopped speaking as they turned and came in view of the cell factory they'd been heading for. The long, narrow building sat quiet. Within a large entrance, he could see a hundred or so workers standing around talking. Although a few trucks still sat loaded with crates of new cells, the production lines lay silent.
And the streets had been so different… the entire world felt stunningly on edge, as if frozen in time, waiting for some unknown change.
"They've chosen a hundred representatives to work things out with the owners and investors," she explained. "They asked me to be one of the hundred."
"Work things out?"
Og let out a deep breath. "They're on strike."
He felt his very heart tremble at the forbidden words spoken aloud. "Who?"
"Aside from a few critical industries…" His promise-brother grimaced, clearly unsure whether to be happy or afraid. "…everybody."
&
nbsp; Blurs of light passed across his slowly sharpening vision.
He swallowed bitterly as the usual data flows began outlining themselves. The new cell hung against his heart, where he'd only just gotten used to having empty space… where he'd only just gotten used to having privacy, however fleeting.
"Alright, now sit, let's splint that arm."
He clenched his fists together, nails biting into his skin. His broken arm screamed, and his cracked leg ran a string of fire through his knee, but the pain was far more than physical.
The pain in his shattered body reached a limit he'd never anticipated. His senses stuttered, and a lance of pain stabbed through his mind.
He didn't recall blacking out, but he suddenly found himself blinking awake.
Og and his father stood nearby.
"Drink this."
A cup of water pressed against his dry, blood-encrusted lips, pouring cool life down his throat.
He gazed around the bare dusty walls and wide stone floor. A strange pattering sound emanated from the high empty window. With some confusion, he realized that it was raining outside. Even through his pain, his mind calculated scenarios for the explosion temporarily disrupting weather patterns, spreading the Rain Belt around…
"Hey, how do you feel?" Elizabeth asked, entering the room.
He groaned, but then noticed the eerie lack of layabouts. "What's with the room? Why's it empty in here?"
Ragni stepped forward, leaning on his cane.
"What?" he asked, looking up.
"The strike," the old man said cryptically, his features grim. "Do you know why it spread so far, so fast?"
"The refinery explosion?"
"No. Not exactly."
"Well what, then?"
"Did you pass through a several-block area filled with deadly gas?"
"Yes…" Apprehensive, he waited.
"She thought you might have."
Elizabeth gripped his good wrist.
Ragni sighed. "I also know that you were at the chem-complex in question, and you disabled the last safety mechanism for that factory just a day or two prior to the accident."
He gulped. "I just… it was… the owner… he -"
"We know."
"What?"
"It's not your fault, Rolf."
He frowned with worry. "What isn't my fault?"
Ragni slumped down, sitting against the wall opposite. "It's our fault. Our generation, our way of life, the choices we've made as a group. Choices we made for you, our children."
A chilling tingle crawled up his neck. Elizabeth squeezed his hand. He narrowed his eyes. "What happened?"
"It's not your fault, I just wanted you to know that first," the old man replied. "It could best be described as a cascade collapse. One thing went wrong, causing another, and then that caused another…"
"What happened?"
"Systemic industrial accidents. Gas, fires, explosions, collapses… we've pushed this economy to the brink, and now we've paid for it. Aging infrastructure, no safety regulations, no maintenance, no planned zoning… residences next to factories…"
"A hundred twenty-six million," Og blurted, downcast. "Between the explosion, the riots, and the accident cascade."
"A hundred twenty-six million?" he asked, that strange chill riling his skin again. "A hundred twenty-six million… people? Like… dead?" He looked to his friends, his chest tightening. "But we were talking… laughing… you didn't say anything…"
"It's too much to comprehend," Og replied, at a loss. "I was just happy you survived."
"Me too," Elizabeth said, watching him intently. "You're alright. We're alright. That's what's important right now."
He found himself reliving that moment - his first hour back in civilization the week before, turning off that safety lockdown, imagining stabbing the owner in the back with his screwdriver… if only he'd done it then, rather than after the fact…
"And it's not all bad," she continued, sadly hopeful, always looking on the bright side. "The Peak's shot way up."
"It would, with thirteen percent of all people out of the equation," he commented without thinking. "Er…"
"It's alright," she said quickly. "The same thought's occurred to everyone else. It's a lot of breathing room - enough to strike, and mean it. So they did."
He looked between each of them, unsure what to feel. How could such an enormous tragedy actually leave society better off?
The shadow sitting by his innermost ledger tilted its head, intrigued.
"But the thing that gets me, above all else," Ragni said, tired. "The riots in the chaos - it was all young people, as if they were just waiting for an opportunity to lash out and destroy. They were so angry. I've never seen anything quite like it, even in all the history I've been through myself. Why are they so mad?"
Og and Elizabeth both looked to him.
He gazed back at the old man, a thousand thoughts racing through his head. There were countless things wrong, countless injustices in a system built by the older generation to serve the older generation to the exclusion of everyone else… but there would be no easy answers, no grand revelations - not for them, and not publicly.
He had no idea where his future might take him, but he did know that voiced opinions were now on record forever, and the record did not change even if society changed. All the hateful and angry and insightful things he wanted to say at that moment might haunt him forever.
That was the world Ragni's generation had chosen for their children and grandchildren. By eliminating privacy, they'd only made the rift of silence total.
He wondered how many of his peers had drawn the same conclusions and kept their thoughts to themselves their entire lives. He'd somehow thought he was the only one filled with a lifetime of resentment and rage at an older generation that had utterly failed their children… but he wasn't the only one, not at all. He almost laughed - all that time, feeling alone and apart, and everyone else was feeling the exact same way!
"I dunno," he shrugged. "Guess we'll never know."
Ragni pursed his lips, disappointed. "Well, if you kids need anything, I'm here for you."
"Thanks, dad," Og said. "Rolf, you should rest."
"Feel better," the old man added, departing.
Og lingered behind, hesitant. "Rolf…"
"Yeah?"
"Sorry about Kitna."
He lowered his head. "Thanks."
"Sure." The tall Nord hesitated again, but then moved to depart after his father.
Rolf put up a hand. "Wait!"
Og turned and looked at him. Elizabeth waited, curious.
Rolf looked down at his bare feet, then at each of their faces. They were so alive, so genuine… and they were not out to hurt him, betray him, or leave him. He wasn't sure when exactly he'd forgotten that there could be people in his life that were not enemies.
The words came out painfully, as if speaking them ripped at deep, hidden wounds.
"I… want to be here."
Og searched his face for sincerity, surprised. Elizabeth's eyes trembled.
He looked away, unable to face them. "I know I don't let on… but I… I just…"
The tall Nord grinned, genuinely warmed. "Thank you."
Rolf looked back. "Thank you?"
Og nodded. "Yes. Now, you should sleep. Feel better, promise-brother." He turned and left, following after his father with a cheery step.
Elizabeth waited for a moment, as if there was something more she wanted to say, but then she let go of his wrist. "I've got a promising solar technique to pursue. I should probably -"
"Will you stay here?" he asked, taking a lesson from Kit and deciding to voice his wants.
She turned. "Stay here?"
"I'm really tired. I don't think I can make it to East Residency. Will you sleep here with me? I don't want to sit here by myself, I just -" He took in a pained breath, his bruised ribs cutting off his sentence.
"Yes." She stretched out, laying her head on his lap,
resting against his uninjured leg. "Just try not to punch me in the face when you wake up."
He laughed feebly. "No promises."
Of all things that might have woken him from his furious nightmares, an ebb in the rain finally broke through his wall of sleep. Blinking sweat from his eyebrows, squeezing the muscles in his splinted arm lightly, he gazed up at the high window and tried to see if the sky was clearing.
"Troubled dreams, I see. Not unusual for you, judging by your statistics."
At the unfamiliar voice, he snapped his attention down to the space across the room.
His clothes set to an elegant pattern, a rather healthy-looking but wiry older man with slick grey hair returned his gaze, his expression steely but curious. "I see you haven't checked your scheduled pay."
Looking around the empty room confused, he shook his head. Elizabeth still lay with her head on his lap, asleep. The older man spoke quietly so as not to wake her, but his manner was no less sharp for it.
"As a commission incentive, Scientists are paid a certain proportion of the improvements they make. The donors that fund this organization have been more than satisfied with their output as a whole. But you see, a certain list was referenced by several hundred million conversations, sparking certain social problems… leading to quite a few deaths, and a rather incredible rise in the Peak. All of it linked back to you, and your project."
Listening to the older man speak, he felt a strange darkness circling. He checked his account… and there it was… a fortune in calories, a sum beyond his wildest reckoning. A million games of Starship II - a million bet payoffs - would have hardly begun to approach a fraction of that unbelievable amount.
The older man brushed some dust from his elegantly patterned shoulder before continuing. "I would say that you really shouldn't have received such an enormous amount of money, but the system is the system, and we can't really take it back, now can we? All we can do is fix the… oversight… in our future calculations, and, perhaps, ask you to come visit."
"…visit? Who?"
"A network of owners and investors, one of many looking for new options now that this whole strike business has muddled things."
"… which network?"
"Aggregate Investors."
The circling darkness became immediately real, chilling his heart - but he kept his vitals steady, even feigned slight excitement. "Interesting."
The older man snorted. "If you'd like to describe such luck with understatement, yes, it is interesting. We have quite a bit to discuss, and quite a bit to teach you… and we're not above the belief that… someone like yourself, with your… history… might teach us some things, too. We don’t know everything. We're only human, after all."
He stared back at the older man, wondering if he meant the nuclear bomb, hidden somewhere in the mad sprawl of civilization… did he know? Did they know? "Well, I can work from anywhere," he finally replied. "I might as well."
"You still plan on working?"
"Yes. Building on my prior project, I'm going to seek out other programming flaws in the system. I'm going to search for other ways to secretly communicate, and expose them. If someone's hidden something from society, I'm going to find it."
The other man gave no reaction, save a slight smile. "I'd expect no less from Rolf the Rude."
His eyes gave him away.
"Yes, I know who you are," he elaborated. "In fact, I bet on you many times when you were young. You're a ruthless survivor, and I like that. I was not surprised to see your name come up again, not even in this… peculiar