Meetings New and Old

“Are you okay?” a tiny voice said.

Izumi wiped her eyes and looked up. Standing above her was a small girl, dressed to play in the snow, snow now stained with blood. “What are you doing here?” Izumi asked. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”

“You don’t look dangerous,” the girl replied.

She was right. Izumi had dropped her sword and forced her way from the immobile exosuit, leaving it behind her in the dying embers of the workshop fire. What use was it to her now? She’d trust her firearm and the lightning baton stuffed in her pant leg. But what can I do? She thought, looking down at the crimson and black snow. They’re immortal.

“Maki!” another voice called, causing Izumi to look up, down the street that led to the living area. “Where are you?”

Izumi noticed the girl look down the street as well. “Maki,” Izumi said. “Is that you?”

The girl spun back towards her, nodding. “I chose it myself,” she said, proudly pointing at herself. “Isn’t it a good name?”

Izumi smiled. “Yeah, it is.”

“Maki!” the voice called again.

“Shouldn’t you answer that,” Izumi questioned as the girl, Maki, bent down, scraping away the mucked surface of the snow to reveal pure, white powder.

Maki shrugged as she gathered together a ball from the pure snow. “He’ll find me eventually.”

“Uh-huh,” Izumi said, slowly getting to her feet. She glanced down the pathway to the living quarters again, searching for the voice calling for the girl. “Sure.”

“Trust me,” Maki said, “He’ll be here in a minute. He’ll help you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Maki stood, seemingly satisfied that her snowball wasn’t going to fall apart, then began to smooth it over. Once she was done, she passed it to Izumi. “I like snow,” she said. “When it snows, the gross stuff disappears, and everything gets really pretty. Kind of like you.”

Izumi found herself blushing. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Of course!” Maki beamed, “One of the prettiest girls I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, right,” Izumi chuckled.

Maki furrowed her brow. “What do you mean? You’re pretty inside and out, like the snow, she said pointing at the ball. Do you not believe that?”

“I-”

“Maki!” the voice from earlier called from the pathway. In a moment, the form of a tall, yet slightly bent-over man, appeared, wearing a long trench coat. Tied around his neck was a long scarf, his hands were shoved in his pockets. “Maki, what are you doing? You can’t just run off, especially when…” he trailed off as he noticed Izumi.

She nodded to him. “Yours?” she asked, gesturing with her free hand to Maki.

“Yeah,” he replied as the girl strode over and held out a snowball to him.

Izumi looked down at the ball in her hand then up again as she noticed the man’s eyes on her. “You’re hurt,” he said, nodding at her leg.

Izumi frowned, looking down at the blood pooling into the snow from a gash on her calf. She gasped, she hadn’t even noticed the wound, nor did she know how she might have gotten it. Must have happened during the fight, she mused. Izumi eyed the Wall Market, looming in the distance. Somewhere beyond that wall, a war was about to begin.

“Come with us,” the old man said, interrupting her line of thought.

“I couldn’t,” she replied.

“Please?” Maki asked, staring up at her with bright blue eyes.

Izumi sighed and looked down at her leg again. The cut was beginning to sting now that she’d noticed it and she wasn’t sure how deep it might be. She glanced behind her, taking note of the blood-soaked trail she’d left. “You sure?” she asked the old man.

He nodded. “Of course. We can’t have you bleeding out, can we?”

Izumi shrugged. “Maybe we can, who knows anymore. I could just come back.”

The old man shook his head, beginning down the road. “No, I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Izumi laughed, following. “You haven’t been outside lately, have you?”

The man shook his head. “Don’t make assumptions about me, young girl. I was simply stating something based on observation.”

“What’s that?”

“Have you met a Revived that didn’t return at least a month ago?”

Izumi shrugged. “Don’t know. I haven’t really been paying much attention. They only really came on our radar this past week.”

“Of course,” the man replied after a brief pause, “Things are different down here. We noticed immediately.”

Izumi frowned. “It’s not like we don’t care,” she started before the man raised his hand, cutting her off.

“I know there are many that do, but there are also many that don’t. It’s because of those ones that things have ended up as they have.”

Izumi bit her cheek, knowing the man was right.

“I’m sure you already knew that, however.”

Izumi froze. Did he know? “Who are you,” she asked.

“You can call me Ralis,” he replied. “I’m this girl’s grandfather.”

Izumi slid her eyes from Ralis to Maki, then back again, noting the similarities between the two. “Where are her parents,” she asked.

Ralis shrugged. “No clue. They ran off after Charlotte, erm, Maki died.”

“He’s talking about how I died and came back,” Maki said. “I don’t remember Charlotte though, so I’m Maki now.”

Izumi nodded to herself. “You probably shouldn’t go telling people that now,” she said.

“Why’s that?” Maki asked, jumping over a small pile of snow.

Izumi glanced at Ralis. He turned to Maki. “There are some bad people out,” he began, “That are like you- Revived, that is. People, well, people aren’t nice when groups of people like them do bad things.”

“Even if the rest of the group does nothing wrong?” Maki asked.

Izumi nodded. “Yeah. Even if you do nothing wrong, people might not like that you’re Revived.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re different than them,” Ralis cut in. “Because, for some reason I haven’t figured out yet, some people don’t like people that are different than them.”

Maki stopped, staring into the shadow of the wall. “People are weird,” she said after a moment before hopping into a skip and continuing down the street.”

Izumi started to call after her but cut herself short as Ralis shook his head. “She’ll be fine. She knows the way home.”

“She’s a sweet girl,” she replied.

“She is,” Ralis said, “Which makes me wonder, are you?”

Izumi met his eyes, finding nothing but a cold inquisitiveness in them. She gulped. “I want to be, well, I want to be good,” she said.

“Good,” Ralis replied. “There’s a lack of truly good people in this world, though I suppose nobody can be entirely good. We’ve all got our demons.”

“Yeah,” Izumi said, holding the last syllable as she let the conversation fade into silence.

“I don’t know what happened back there,” Ralis said, “but I’d bet my life it was nothing good.”

Izumi felt her tears returning and quickly wiped them away. “I’m fine,” she said.

“But are you?”

“You’re persistent,” she said as they rounded a corner, leading to a long, narrow alleyway.

“I did just invite you to my home. I’d just like to know whether or not you’re trustworthy before we get there.”

Izumi smiled as Ralis gestured for her to go first down the alleyway. “Makes sense, I suppose,” she said.

“Good,” Ralis said behind her. “Then tell me who you are.”

“I’m a soldier,” Izumi replied, carefully inching past a tower of boxes.

“A soldier? What type?”

“Lately? I’ve been part of the policing force. Before that, I was in the President’s guard.”

“Were you demoted?”

“No. I just felt I wasn’t doing as much as I could have been.”

“So why become a soldier? There’s no war, not really.”

“I guess… it just felt right,” Izumi lied. Not a complete lie, just one that omitted a bit of the truth. He didn’t need to know that part of her past, that was her weight.

“I see,” he replied. “And if a war were to break out as those terrorists want, what would you do, soldier?”

“I’d fight.”

“For who?”

Izumi frowned. Who would I fight for?

“I don’t know,” she said, “but, I suppose, if it came down to it, I’d fight for the weak, those who can’t fight for themselves.”

“So you wouldn’t join a side?”

“What side would I join? They’ve both done horrible things.”

“I presume you’re speaking of the Named and Nameless, no?”

“Yeah,” Izumi said as they emerged from the tight street into a clear, yet empty, road. “The Named have subjugated their peers to violence, slavery, abuse, and other evil things. They stole names and replaced them with numbers. Does that not make you feel worthless? Less than human? Because that’s their goal.”

“I’ve grown used to it,” Ralis replied, joining her at her side.

“That doesn’t make it right,” she interjected.

“I know that,” he said, “I’m just thinking about how hard a change would be, on both sides. Like you’ve said, the Nameless have done horrible things too— they’ve beaten the Named, killed them, burned them, destroyed their property. There’s very little they haven’t done. Think of Rylie. He was one of the worst offenders.”

“And he’s back.”

Ralis nodded. “The Revived have brought a third group into play, one composed with views from both sides, but Rylie’s influence is strong. He claims to do these things for the Nameless, but do you really think he’ll stop after destroying the Named? He’s set his mind to conquering the world, cleansing it. He won’t stop until everyone either follows his command, his view of right, or we’re all dead.”

Ralis stopped in front of a small home, whose door stood directly against the dirty street. Izumi noticed a group of beggars nearby. Her heart stung as she looked at them.

“Then I’ll protect them,” she whispered.

“Hmm?” Ralis hummed, opening the door.

“I’ll protect them. I’ll protect the weak, those who can’t protect themselves.”

“I see why Maki likes you,” Ralis murmured under his breath. “Come on in, soldier.”

“It’s Izumi,” she said sternly.

“Of course,” Ralis apologized, “welcome, Izumi.”

***

President Clay leaned back in his chair as Edwin conversed with someone outside the door. He closed his eyes, thinking of the comforts of home. What he wouldn’t give to be back there. He opened an eye glancing towards the clock on the wall, then jumped back, falling out of his chair as he noticed the man before him.

“Enjoying a nap, President?” Tez asked.

John scrambled up from the floor and looked towards Edwin only to see the old man’s lifeless body lying on the floor. “How?” he whispered.

“Edwin was old,” Tez replied, stepping forward and taking hold of John’s chair. He flipped it up onto its feet and took a seat. “I’m afraid he forgot about me. It has been two years I suppose.” He shrugged.

John backed away, towards Edwin, then knelt next to the man. “He’s quite dead, I assure you,” Tez said, leaning forward in the chair. “I stuck a knife straight through his heart. Probably painless, don’t worry about it.”

John ignored him, flipping Edwin over. He squirmed as he felt the warm liquid touch his hands. He reached towards the knife, still embedded in Edwin’s chest, then froze. He snapped his eyes close, took a deep breath, and pulled it out. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to his friend before rising and facing Tez.

He leveled the blood-slicked knife directly in front of him, trembling slightly. “What do you want?”

Tez raised his hands above his head. “I just want to talk. Can’t we talk?”

John shook his head firmly. “You killed my friend. If you wanted to talk, your time has passed.”

Tez stared at him for a moment, then rolled his eyes and clasped his hands together. “Fine, let’s just get straight to business then. I’m sure you heard my little announcement?”

John narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. “Who didn’t. I’ll tell you right now though, it’s not going to happen. You know that I can’t make it happen that quick.”

“You had two years to make it happen, John, and now your time’s up. I’m just the reckoning.”

“I tried,” John began.

“You failed,” Tez said, getting to his feet, “Because you’re a coward. You have always been a coward.”

He jumped over the table then marched forward until John’s blade was touching his chest. “I’m not a coward, John. I will do it. I’ll free this society, I’ll change it.”

“By doing what? Killing people?” he gestured at Edwin. “Good people? Innocent people?”

“I’ll kill whoever I have to in order to see my mission completed. If a few innocents have to die to destroy the wicked, then I’ll do it: that’s my conviction, John. I don’t care if hell takes me or if my soul is lost, I’ll do this because it’s right, unlike you. You only care about your image. You don’t really care what’s right, only that you look good doing as you please.”

Tez stepped back as a shout sounded from the hall behind John.

Tez stepped to beside the window, throwing it open.

“You’re wrong, Tez. I will do it. I’ll change things.”

“When?”

John reached for a reply but found nothing. “I will,” he said, hardening his expression.

Tez shook his head then stepped up onto the windowsill. “You couldn’t do it in a hundred years, John. I can do it in a night, and society will thank me for it.”

He turned and jumped.

Behind John, the door burst open. Numerous soldiers rushed into the room. “Are you okay, sir?” one of them asked, setting his hand on John’s shoulder.

John looked at the knife in his hands, watching its tip shake faster and faster until the knife lurched out of his grip, falling to the floor.