The Humanity of Man

“But ma’am, I told him that you’d heal him! Please reconsider!” a teenaged Yohan begged an Elder.

“You should’ve never said that, boy,” the Elder hissed. “What were you thinking? Telling someone that without hearing a High Weaver’s verdict?”

“Do we really need one’s approval every time?”

“Of course. They’re the only ones who can determine if Limbo needs thread – without them, we might as well be doing our work blind.”

“So there can’t be any exceptions? Just this once?”

“Even if it was me in that room – if I had to die, then I’d die. Do not speak of this to me any further!”

So, to Yohan’s sadness, the boy died. He was another student with a seemingly promising future given his skills, and the two would often train together at a clinic. But as was typical for adolescent boys, he was impulsive and got into a fight, one that ended in him getting hit just a bit too hard in the head. Yohan apologized tirelessly until he went limp – and even afterwards.

His next introduction into his role’s reality was the first time he had to reject a patient himself.

“I’m… I’m sorry, but… It has been decided that the Nexus can’t afford to spare a life, at this time…”

“What!? But I know of someone who was healed here just a few days ago!”

“Limbo’s supply changes very frequently…”

“Please, Mender – she’s my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids!”

Yohan stared at the tiled floor, unflinching.

“I understand that, miss. But, uh…” he recalled the regurgitated statements told to him numerous times over the years, and once grasping them he said, “Well, the rules are there because they’re important. We must trust in the High Weavers’ wisdom.”

“Are the High Weavers infallible?”

“Technically, no…”

“Then will you please allow it one time! I’ll even pay you!”

Yohan felt sick. Her strained pleas were a knife to his soul. The Elders and High Menders never seemed to understand the intrinsic value of life, a detachment he always believed was ironic. The girl berated him as her friend laid still, but in the middle of her tears her mouth was left agape. Yohan was crying harder than herself.

It was to appease the authorities who looked down on him like a vermin. They insisted he was foolish, overly empathetic, or a great waste of talent for a man who’d never be accepted as an Elder once of age with his childishness and unseemly idealism.

And it was these same authorities who analyzed him in the court. They were outside on a raised platform in the district’s center, the Guardians preferring to see justice enacted publicly.

“Yohan Smith,” a judge said, “As a 29-year-old High Mender, it would be nonsensical to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you were somehow unaware of your infraction… Why, pray tell, did you go along with this despite knowing the consequences?”

“Because…”

Yohan nervously glanced at the audience around them, their faces mostly blank save the miniscule signs of interest whenever an offense was elaborated. Her involvement kept under wraps, Roe observed from the sidelines – but like everyone else, she expected an answer.

He corrected his posture, and leveling his speaking he said, “Because, with all due respect, there is no longer a law, sir.”

“That is preposterous.”

“The Mender’s law is meant to stabilize the Nexus. But, with the way things are now—”

“Your perspective has been heard before.”

Yohan blinked. “It – it has?”

“This growing belief that the system is no longer relevant has been a main factor in recent noncompliance. You all rehearse the same, senseless lines about ‘death is imminent’ and ‘nothing we do matters anymore,’” he shook his head out of disgust, “But at the end of the day, it is simply an excuse. Using the fragility of the Nexus as justification for lawlessness, thus eradicating yourselves of all responsibility… And shame.”

“I can’t speak for the others before me, but I’m not trying to seek ‘excuses’ or take advantage. I am just… Making the most out of a bad situation.”

“By contributing to disorder?” another judge added. “That doesn’t help your case, Mender.”

“That’s not how I see it. What I’m doing would only cause disorder if we choose to create it. Because, when you think about it – what’s the real harm of having life?”

A joined scoff swept throughout the seated judges, before one explained, “It is irresponsible that you have not considered the effects. Imagine if other Menders were influenced, then we’d have a big lot of you potentially making the crisis worse than it already is. Is that not what you’d call ‘harm?’”

“You’re wrong about two things, miss,” Yohan quickly retorted. “One, I have considered it, everything. My conclusion is that the unknown does not compare to all the good that is known, longer lives for all. And two…”

He controlled his breathing, trying to calm the manifestation of emotions swirling in his heart. Maybe everyone was right about him, and he was too sentimental for his own good. But for years, he strived to prove there was worth in those sentiments, that he had nothing to be ashamed of.

That day, under the eyes of many, was his time.

“I am confident that… There’d be very few, if any Menders, who would follow my lead. We’ve all been trained to see people as nothing more than assignments, to ‘check off’ and forget about… But I remember every patient’s name, the pitch of their voice, even their touch. You ask others from my tribe, and they won’t have a clue.”

“It seems you struggle with immoderate amounts of attachment, which has nothing to do with our laws. This is by no means a sufficient argument.”

“I am not too attached!” Yohan bellowed. “I’m human!”

The judges were unpleased with his loss of composure. He saw it, the steely cast over their eyes. As if he could have any less favor… But as long as his trial lasted, there was a chance to win his stance.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” he continued calmer, “I think society forgets their humanity sometimes. We get so caught up with ‘the rules’ – and I’ll admit that yes, we did need them before the recession… But there was never room for understanding, or compassion. Even now, it’s the same!”

Yohan faced the audience again, and surprisingly, there wasn’t as much of a vacancy of reaction. The Guardians were not only watching, but listening – not just with their ears, but also their hearts, even if only marginally. Yet it was suffice. He made a landing, and it was time to move forward.

“Tell me, judges! Is the Nexus for the people, or are the people for the Nexus? If the latter, you’ve won, and I’ll hold my tongue. But if not, how can you fault anything I’ve done?”

The judges gave each other a reluctant look, and after a few moments said, “Neither, it is an exchange. We work to keep the Nexus alive, and in return, its existence does the same for us.”

“An exchange that is now broken! In other words, neither ‘party’ is obligated to hold their end anymore – you all should know that, being law experts and everything… So instead of abiding by a nonexistent ‘deal,’ why can’t we, as the people, make choices ourselves?”

“It has already been made, to uphold the way of life we—”

“How do you know that?” Yohan boldly interrupted. “You haven’t asked the people!”

Perhaps out of insanity, Yohan marched to the very edge of the stage, shocking the onlookers. “Well!? What do you all think?” he called.

At first, one could hear a pin drop. The crowd was an unmoving bunch as they stared up at Yohan. A breeze blew, a dog barked – and then someone clapped. Yohan smiled at Roe, her small show of support giving him shockwaves of encouragement.

However, it wasn’t enough to save him.

“Well, Mister Smith… This has not been worth the effort. Your so-called ‘defense’ has been nothing but an emotional spiel without any legal basis. A real shame,” the judge stood, then announced after a tired sigh, “Your punishment shall be prison.”