Michael Soll - Scorched

I fell back to my knees as the betrayal swept across my bones. I could see his face before me. I could sense his being in striking distance.

I felt my spikes penetrating his flesh and his life escaping his body. I could feel his end.

And all I could do, was smile.

I couldn’t let them hurt her. That was reason enough for me. That was all I needed to leave Nanash and return to Newbury, spoiling their attack and saving Kaolin.

I burst through the Earth like a spiraling ball of fire, immune to dirt and gravity and right and wrong and the planet and all that was within. I pushed through melted tunnels, corroded and divided.

I had taken a pair of unwatched spikes because I needed, because I wanted. I cut through terrain, heading toward my world, toward the all that mattered, toward my other, toward my heart. I could feel it thumping and beating and pulsating and screaming my name, urging me to move quicker than I had ever before. I needed to move quicker than ever before. I needed to get back before the water was tainted and my future was tarnished.

I clobbered through the ground, furious and unforgiving, uprooting innocuous specs of dirt that smacked me in the face and clung to my tiny hairs, unwilling to fall back to the ground where they may lay dormant for all eternity. And then, I punched through, and I could breathe again.

I found the Mayor and told him the Nanashi plan of infecting the drinking water. He immediately sent a couple dozen guards to squash the attack while he sent the other soldiers to protect the border, in case of a subsequent breach.

I was held in chains for several hours until their attack was confirmed. The Mayor and Riley watched me from a distance, discussing matters I could not hear until they finally approached.

Riley sat in a chair across from mine, except he had the ability to walk away if he chose.

“Jennifer said you were inducted into the NaNa tribe. And during the raid, James saw you dancing freely amongst the savages.”

The Mayor took a seat beside Riley. “Now, we understand Kaolin was brainwashed by the NaNas. We’re just trying to figure out if you were as well.”

He leaned forward and spoke softly, but that didn’t take away any power from his words. If anything, it made his speech more potent.

“See, I can rationalize that to the people. You two are victims. Captured and transformed. Weak wills, you see? Tinier brains.” He gave Riley a look, prompting his Chief Advisor to leave the room.

“I like you, Spec. I do. And you just saved a lot of peoples’ lives. A lot of good peoples’ lives. Maybe my own. Maybe you saved our city. Maybe our entire race. Did you know that? Did you know you were doing that when you came back? Did you understand the consequences of your actions?”

I watched him closely as he watched me even closer. It had only been recently that I was forced to understand what people were saying when they were saying something else. He wanted a hero, not for my benefit but for his. I was the closest thing he had to a son. If I were to have betrayed the city, how would that look on him? But if I had purposely saved Newbury, I would be a hero and so would he.

In Newbury, it mattered what other people thought. It’s a strange concept; each of their well-being depended on the group’s consensus. The Mayor was mayor because people chose him to be. In the Hive, people did their jobs and that was that. It didn’t matter if you kept to yourself or didn’t. Being liked was a personal decision, not mandatory. In the hive, we worked for each other and survived off the other. We only lived if each person put in the effort. In Newbury, survival depended on one’s ability to be liked. The Mayor was supreme in Newbury but in the hive, his words would be meaningless.

“Is that what you meant to do, Spec? You came back to save our city. You’re a hero then…”

I was not good with words. It was inconsequential for me growing up, but here, I was at a disadvantage. I wonder though, if I was born Newburyian, would I be a master of words like the Mayor? Would I think the hive was a strange and backwards place? Would I think a person like my father was immoral or bad for the person he was, for the things he did? Would I think he just didn’t know better like the Mayor did I? If I were born in Newbury or Nanash, would Spec even exist? Or would I just be a duplicate of those I have met on my journey thus far? A leader? A warrior?

And after some time without a response, keeping the Mayor in suspense, something he was not used to, I replied: “Yes. I came back to save Newbury.”

The Mayor was pleased. Never had a man been so happy to hear a lie.

“Good,” he said as he unshackled me. “Let’s go celebrate.”

The city came out to praise Spec, the Hero of Newbury. The music played, soft and pleasant and the dancers moved in a square, soft and pleasant. And that’s when I saw Kaolin standing with James. She was watching me from across the dance floor. Hundreds of people stood in our way of reconnecting but I had overcome sturdier barriers.

“Oh my God, Spec! You infiltrated the NaNas, that’s so amazing!” a boy shouted as I walked across the dance floor.

“Is it true they bathe in human blood!?” a girl squealed.

“I heard they can bite through bone. Did you ever see that!?”

I pushed past adoring faces and spotted Bryan standing in the middle of his own crowd, showing off his knife throwing technique.

“The key is pinching the tip and the quick release. That’s how I took down all those beasts and that traitor, Cotta.”

I stopped for a moment and stared at the boy. I watched him regale others of how he took down the evil Cotta, how he helped invade the NaNa village and rescue the good while purging the bad.

Death wasn’t a foreign concept. In the hive, a lot of people died before their bodies could mature. I was able to witness the beginning and end to many lives. I was no stranger to the concept of finality. I had seen siblings die the moment they entered this world, born without life. I had left my father behind and by leaving, he had died. If there was one thing I knew, it was death. But never had it caused me the pain that it had with the passing of Cotta. Never had I been so angry. Never had I felt an injustice, but how could I? Growing up, there was no such thing as justice. There was no concept of fair. Things happened and that was that. The world wasn’t cruel, it just was. But now, I realized, people were cruel. They added misfortune to the world that could not exist without their existence. But they also brought goodness as well. They were the ones who filled the empty with right and wrong.

And as I watched Bryan gleefully laugh about ending my friend’s world, I felt a deep sense of contempt, or at least that’s what the emotion felt like as described by Joey. How do I explain a feeling I had never known? How can I tell another the pain I’m feeling and know they understand? Just as when we stare at a color. Do we both see the same colors, or do we just have the same words for an experience we assume we are sharing? Different eyes, different world.

But there Bryan was, being lauded by others for doing a cruel act. Why was it cruel? Because I deemed it to be. It was cruel and that’s what I believed and so it was true. To those cheering him, they believed his actions to be just. They believed him to be a savior. How can one act be both right and wrong?