A Man of His Time
By NFalc
13
Truthseekers
"...It was when Raymond was crushed that Adam turned around, prompting me to fire the tranquilizer gun at range. The harpoon hit Cheryl at Point D5X, the right side of the lower leg, and embedded in her muscle, taking instant effect. Adam recovered what was left of Raymond's body."
"And what was left?" Jot Orem asked.
I keep my head down as Orem asks his questions and Antoine answers mechanically, going through the details of our escape. My thoughts run in the same circles over and over again, from Cheryl to Raymond, from his last words to my father, from my father to our city, from our city to Cheryl... The thoughts whirl around, and none of them lead to any conclusions, they just repeat and repeat until they no longer make sense.
My attention gradually comes back to Antoine. "...he did have time, however, to impart some last words to young Adam."
"What were they?"
"I believe they were, 'The sins of the father do not pass on.' I'm not sure if there was more or if he was finished. He didn't have time to say more."
Orem raised an eyebrow. "Do we know what it means?"
"It's a possible inversion of a common saying derived from the Judeo-Christian Bible, that the sins of the father are visited upon their sons. Raymond seemed to be indicating that this is not the case. I believe its meaning was intended to apply to Adam personally."
Jot Orem rises out of his chair now, standing to his full, immense height. His movements are slow and ponderous, each of them seeming to have weight and purpose. His scarred face is set into a solemn frown. "Thank you for the debriefing, Antoine, you're dismissed."
Antoine bows slightly, then leaves the room. Jot approaches me, and I feel the sudden intensity of his gaze. I realize that this is what draws people to him, this amazing intensity in everything he does. It's slightly frightening, but it inspires confidence in him.
He lays a heavy hand on my shoulder, and speaks softly. "Do you have any idea what Raymond meant, Adam?"
I shake my head, still staring at the floor. "He hinted that he wanted to tell me something, back when we were still in Cheryl's possession, but he never did. I think it might have had something to do with that, but I can't say for sure. I don't know what he meant. I just... don't know."
Orem nods understandingly. "I am sorry for your loss," he says gravely, then lets go of my shoulder, and returns to his seat. "We are indebted to you, Adam, but before further measures are discussed, you need your rest. Go find Earl, I had him prepare your quarters for you. Dismissed."
I bow as well, slightly, then leave the room, anxious to be alone. I need time to think. I need time to grieve.
Earl is waiting outside the door. "I'll show you your room, lad," he says, then walks ahead of me, guiding me down a set of mazelike corridors carved into the earth. We walk in total silence, and I prefer it that way.
By the time we approach a dead end corridor, my feet are dragging and my eyes are straining to close. Earl points to a small entrance covered by a thin piece of wood that looks like it was chipped off a larger chunk. "Here's your room. I'll come wake you in two hours for dinner."
He looks like he wants to say more, but I'm sick of people saying they're sorry. I nod and push aside the wooden "door", to find a small chamber with barely enough room for the cot it contains. I recognize the look of the bed from the Plant, and figure the Underground must have stole it from there. I don't care. It's a place to rest, and it's scaled to my size.
I fall onto the bed, and sleep takes me almost immediately.
The world that is before me is all one big blur of color, which slowly comes into focus. The color red. Her shoes. (oh god, please don't let me dream of her, anyone but her, i can't) But the image clears and it isn't Cheryl. It's a pair of red lips right in front of me, filling my vision. They part, and a woman's voice says in a deafening whisper, "Adam."
I try to respond, but I find myself completely unable to speak (this is a dream. why else would you be unable to speak? you're in another dream).
"Adam, do you remember me?"
And I do, now. The voice and the lips are enough to remember her. The woman who saved me from the Plant. Mary, her name was Mary.
"You promised me, Adam," she says, although she doesn't sound angry or hurt. "You promised when I let you go..."
I sense something behind me, and there he is, Raymond, alive and well as ever (damn dreams. damn the false hope). "Are you really sure you trust her?" he asks.
I turn back to her, and now her face has pulled back so it's all in view, and I look into those blue eyes, the ones I first saw through the false sky of the Plant. So full of trust, full of compassion. "You have to find the Truth," she says. "You promised me you'd find the Truth."
I turn back to ask Raymond what he thinks, but he's gone, replaced by another huge face. This one I recognize immediately. The tan skin and hazel eyes all say Kyra. She looks at me with something, love or lust in her eyes. "Trust yourself," she says. "Not her or me or anyone else." (that was odd even for a dream..she would never say that)
Then there's a rumbling and up, up high above us all stand the two things I dread thinking about, those two red high heels. I tilt my head back as far as it will go, but I still can't see, even though I know it's her.
"You're so puny you can't even see beyond my ankles," Cheryl booms down like a goddess from above, and one of those pale feet, their size so huge as to be incomprehensible, lifts off the ground. The red sole hovers over us, filling the sky (and in that moment i never want to dream again, i pray that the shoe really comes down and kills us all, i don't want this anymore, i'm tired of being alone and untrusting and afraid and i just want out let me out....
My dreams dissolve into a muddled sense of fear and unhappiness, and a man's voice is calling me.
"Adam," Dustin says, and he's kneeling right next to my bed. "You were crying out in your sleep. They gave me the room next to yours, I could hear it through the wall..."
My throat is dry, and my head hurts. My muscles are sore. I want to go back to bed, but I'm afraid of where that would take me. So I sit up, and I lie. "I'm okay," I tell Dustin. "Don't worry."
"I know what he meant to you," Dustin says, and the stinging behind my eyes is coming back again. "And it's okay to feel. I'd have nightmares too." His sympathy is genuine, but it doesn't help. Nothing can help.
"I need to get through this on my own," I tell him. "Just give me a little time."
He nods. "I'm right next door if you need me. I'm still here for you."
He walks out, and I try to remember the details of the dream. Even if it made me miserable, there was something important in there. What was it Mary had said? The truth, she wanted me to find the truth... But that made no sense, what was she talking about? She had made me promise her something at the Plant.
It all snaps quickly into place within my mind, and I know what I must do. The next ten minutes I spend working out a plan. By the time Earl arrives, and tells me Jot Orem has called all the Underground members in for a meeting, I know what I must do.
"The audio we recorded from the bugs placed in Cheryl's apartment has been crucial to our understanding of the structure of the Establishment," Earl says to the assembled Underground. There are sixty or so of us, in this large stone chamber at the center of headquarters. Earl, Antoine, Dustin and I are in the middle of the chamber, surrounded by the others and facing Jot Orem.
"Get to the point, Earl. Was there any useful information?" Orem asks.
Earl rubs the side of his bald head, and hesitates before giving an answer. "Yes. We've discovered that the Establishment has an almost pyramidal infrastructure, with one woman retaining most of its power at the top. There are three women directly below her who, together, could overthrow her, and nine more below them, and so on. The crucial news is that we've found out who the top woman is."
He pauses here, and I see sweat standing out from his head. He's nervous about something. There are murmurs from the audience.
"Well, who is it?" someone calls out. Orem waves a hand and the crowd falls silent. He nods to Earl.
"It's Cheryl."
The crowds immediately get to their feet, and everyone begins calling out at once. I simply sit there, quietly stunned. Not only did she destroy my city, murder my best friend and use me, she's also the head of the organization that has subdued and enslaved my race. And to think that I wanted her love and admiration. She is perhaps the greatest enemy I could ever have.
Jot Orem has gotten to his feet as well, and is speaking now, loudly. Everyone in the crowd falls silent. "...quiet, you fools! I did not organize you to behave thus. We must talk in turn, and decide rationally our course of action."
Antoine stands, and says, "It is our belief, sir, that removing Cheryl from power would prove solely a temporary stumbling block to the Establishment, but if it were organized in conjunction with a larger coup..." he trails off.
"We could overthrow them," Dustin says quietly to my left.
"This is all well and good," Orem says. "But we have no method of creating such a coup, and it will be almost impossible to kill Cheryl without at least half of us dying as well. While this information has been useful, it serves no purpose to us now -"
"Excuse me, sir," I say, getting to my feet. I can hardly believe what I'm about to do. "I think I know how we could accomplish this."
The room goes very quiet. I get the sense that everyone's staring at me. I want to sit back down, but know that I can't. Now that I've started this, there'll be no stopping it.
"Please, explain," Jot prompts.
"We need more manpower than we have, both for killing Cheryl and creating a coup. We can't do it on our own, there's too few of us, and we're too small." I take a deep breath before saying it. "We have to go to the Truthseekers."
The room erupts in noise again, louder than before. The crowd doesn't sound happy. Antoine looks at me like I've suddenly sprouted an extra eye. Jot himself is scowling when he holds up a hand, signaling the others to be silent. "Adam, do you know what you are proposing? If we reveal ourselves to the Truthseekers, we could all be captured or killed. If we are wrong, it could mean the end of the resistance."
"When have the Truthseekers ever said they were against us?" I reply, and I still can't believe I'm actually saying these things. "If you think about it, we're both aiming for the same thing, the downfall of the Establishment. If we worked together, we'd be able to expose the Establishment and all of our problems would be solved."
Jot shakes his head slowly. "The risk is too great," he says. "I refuse to take the chance."
"If we never take chances, we'll never move forward. We have to trust them!" And as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I think about the last time I saw Kyra. I didn't trust her. I'm telling others to do things I cannot do myself.
Jot is no longer saying anything. The crowds are whispering amongst themselves, but they don't sound as angry as before. If I'm going to persuade them at all, I need to do it now.
"You owe me, Jot. You said yourself you were in my debt for what we did, bugging her house. The information we got, that Raymond lost his life for, will be useless if we don't act on it."
Jot had been hanging his head in thought. When I finish, he looks up slowly, and I see in his eyes true unhappiness. He's that worried about what might happen. For a moment, I feel a twinge of guilt.
He nods and gets to his feet, causing everyone else in the room to stand with him. "Very well. Fireteam leaders assemble, we'll need to draw up entrance plans. Someone find copies of the blueprints for Truthseeker HQ. Antoine, I need you to create a loudspeaker..."
The crowds swarm out of the room, following Jot down the hall. I stand there, stunned, and eventually alone. Now that I've said my piece, I no longer take center stage. I wonder if my part in all this is finally over.
Just six hours later and I'm woken at dawn. We're dressed from head to toe in black. We leave headquarters in silence. All of us. Jot said that if we fall, we fall as one.
There's a long, complicated series of tunnels leading to the Truthseeker headquarters. There are cobwebs growing in the corners of every bend, and rust covering the walls. These tunnels have probably only been used once, and then were forgotten, because who in their right minds would follow them to their destination?
We come to a vaulted door, and Jot stops and turns around. He signals us to move quietly, then opens the door. Beyond it is dim darkness which stretches for what seems like miles. We must be in the roofing of the Truthseeker headquarters.
We take up positions, four to a fireteam. Antoine, Dustin and I are the odd team out, with only three members, but we've proven that we're capable of handling it by ourselves. I'm glad I'm working with them: I wouldn't trust anyone else to do the job right.
Antoine removes a small lump of what looks like clay from his pack, places it on the floor between us, then sets about inserting wires into it. He finishes just before Jot comes to check on us, in time to stand up and give him the signal for all-clear.
It's another few tense minutes before Jot returns to the center of the area. He waits until all eyes are on him. Then he raises his hand, and lowers it in a swift chopping motion. Go.
Everyone takes two steps back, then each lump of plastic explosive goes off, creating twenty small holes in the ceiling of the Truthseekers' central area. They'll have heard the explosions. They'll come running.
I quickly hand my belay line to Dustin, who gets a grip on it then nods. Without a second thought, I jump out of the hole.
There's a few seconds of freefall, where I wonder if Dustin has the rope under control. Then my line bounces, and I'm suspended six of their feet above the floor, clutching a rifle and looking wildly around the room.
Many of us are hanging now, although some have dropped to the floor. Below us is a table, and at the table sit women, and from this angle they could almost be of normal size. They are all looking up at us. As I glance from face to face, I catch a sudden glimpse of hazel eyes, and I'm reminded of Kyra. I look up to see more of them are bursting through the doors, having heard the noise. It's okay. This is how we planned it.
Somewhere not too far from me, I hear the crackle of a loudspeaker, and Jot's voice. "Stay seated. We mean you no harm. We would parley with you."
Huge mouths are gaping. They do what we have asked and stay still, and for that I'm grateful. So far, my plan has worked. They don't want to hurt us, I keep thinking, praying, I hope they don't want to hurt us.
I spot Jot about fifty feet in front of me. He is dangling near the head of the table. In front of him, there is a blond woman with a firm chin and a smile on her face. Her green eyes sparkle, with delight or malice, I can't tell. She puts her hands up, palms facing us, then slowly begins to stand. I hear countless metallic sounds as men turn off the safeties on their rifles. They all point them at her. With the twenty or so automatic weapons between us, we wouldn't stand a chance against all of them, but we'd be able to take at least one with us.
The woman is now standing full upright, and she's just over six feet tall, putting her face-to-face with Jot. I'm viewing him from an angle that lets me see his face, and it's impressive: he doesn't back down at all, or even change expression, remaining totally neutral. I've never seen anything so truly brave.
"We Truthseekers have long waited for this day," the blond woman, obviously the leader, says. The wind from her breath is strong enough to cause a few of the ropes before her to swing slightly back and forth. "The day when we would finally be united with the men as one."
I look around and see that all the women are smiling, some even have tears in their eyes. For them, I realize, this is a major event, something they've waited for all their lives. In some way, I made this happen. For the first time in my life, I'm proud of what I've done.
"We accept your offer to parley, and hope that this is the beginnings of renewed cooperation between man and woman, who have been opposed for too long."
The men lower their rifles, and begin to fiddle with the carabiners holding their ropes. I quickly lower myself down to the level of the table, then tug on the rope, signaling Antoine and Dustin that it's safe to follow.
The blonde begins addressing orders to other women, setting up places for us to sleep and people to take care of us. Jot, meanwhile, sits cross-legged before her, staring up at her face. His expression has only changed slightly, but I can see something different in his eyes. It looks like he's relieved.
After about twenty minutes, a series of women are assigned to take us to a place we can stay while Jot discusses matters with the Truthseeker leader. A kind-looking, dark-skinned woman lowers her hand to the table in front of us, and Dustin and I clamber onto it.
She carries us away, with movements fluid and graceful, making the ride smooth and easy. She doesn't say anything to us. All the while, however, I can feel her gaze on me, staring with wonder like we are incredible, beyond belief. Perhaps to some we are.
The woman lowers us onto a cupboard. In front of us is a house that seems built to a scale only slightly larger than ours, an ancient model home. She bends slightly to get a closer look at us, eyes bright with wonder.
"Thank you!" I call up to her.
She smiles, then leans in slightly closer, as if she's going to kiss me. But she changes her mind, and quickly leaves the room.
An hour passes, which Dustin and I spend exploring the house. It doesn't have running water or electricity, but other than that it feels closer to a normal home than anything I've lived in since the city... Don't think about that now, you know what it will lead to. I've resorted to putting him out of my mind until I have time to really think upon it.
I'm sitting on the porch of the house when the door opens. A woman enters the room. She walks over to the house, calling quietly, "Hello? I'm supposed to pick up Adam."
I quickly get off the porch, and run outwards, waving my arms. The woman looks down and notices me. She stares for a second, then gasps. "Oh my god," says Kyra. "It's you."
She quickly crouches so that her face is level with the top of the bureau. "I wondered if you were among them, I was hoping even if I didn't think you would be, and I didn't know if I would find you if you were, and I've been so worried..." she blurts out.
I smile and look at her, drinking in the sight of her. Somewhere in my mind I'd given up hope of ever seeing her again, although I'd desperately wanted to. She was my first, and still my best, and I regretted not getting to know her well enough.
"You gave me such a scare when you turned back," she says. "I thought they were going to kill you, I swear I've never felt worse in my life and just -" Then she lunges forward and kisses me.
It isn't a long kiss - she draws back quickly once she realizes what she's doing - but in the two or three seconds it happens, I'm drawn almost entirely into her mouth. It is, in a word, wonderful. She pulls back though, looking alarmed. "Oh, now I've gone and started rushing things again..."
"No," I say. "That was amazing. And remember, we've already gone even further than that already."
She gives me a grin. "How could I forget? Now, give me a second to clean you off." She positions a finger behind me, then carefully uses her sweatshirt to dab away some of her saliva. It's a little bit like getting slammed into by a ton's worth of towels, but it does dry me off a little. "Okay, now we'd better get going. Hop on my hand."
She lays her palm flat, and I get on. She carries me back down the corridors and into the meeting room.
I expected the blonde, Jot and their advisors to be in conversation. Instead, they're clustered around a woman who is kneeling on the floor, her arms held by two others. There's a small blot of blood staining the corner of her red lips. Her black hair is slightly tousled.
"She works for the Establishment," the blonde begins.
"She's much worse than that," Orem continues.
"What should we do with her?" The blonde asks.
I step onto the table, and walk forward, just to make sure. She locks eyes with me.
"Hear me out," says Mary.
Giantess World
