I'd questioned describing myself as a woman in 'The Fall', my essay for Mr Rockwell. I often wished there was some sort of time in a person's life where they were told, "You're grown up now." and that was that. I FELT like a child. Every time I acquired something that was supposed to make me feel like an adult... it didn't.
I had a job. I'd turned eighteen years old, had a couple of boyfriends (no major relationships) and I'd finished school. Yet none of this made me feel as if my childhood was over. I was at heart a little girl in a woman's body.
And yet something was coming that I was counting on to end my childhood once and for all. It was the tenth anniversary of the fall of Terminal City. Ten years since Dad and Cora and many of my neighbours and friends had died. The anniversary of all the deaths was not something the former population liked to remember- it was more the day we became official American citizens and were allowed to see the Outside that was remembered. But it was ten years gone. They needed to be honoured.
A part of the City was cleaned up especially for the day, which was cold and windy that year. Transgenics flocked from all sides of the USA and beyond, even if they had never set foot in the City.
"It's been ten years. It's been far too long," whistled Justin, watching cars of transgenic families pull up through the City gates as we perched on the roof of our old house. X-series, anomalies and Special Ops anxiously waited, rushing to embrace long-lost family as they climbed out of their vehicles.
For the sake of the day, we had temporarily moved back into the City, into the last home we'd had. Steel and I were even sleeping in our old room, which had brought back wonderful memories.
"Yeah, I know," I replied. "A decade ago we were skinny kids who'd never seen a toaster or crossed an Outside street. Now we're adults."
There was a banging noise as Steel climbed through a window to reach us. "Riiiight, we're so much maturer now," she giggled. "Hey, Justin, watch your back!"
We looked around to see that she'd ripped a broken shingle from the roof and was preparing to throw it at our brother. He yelped as she purposely flung it to miss him and almost fell over laughing. "Steel!" he barked. "That wasn't funny!"
"Well, we know which one of us has the wit and finesse of a seven-year-old," I said, pulling Steel down to sit with us. In a rather childlike way, she leaned her head on my shoulder and smiled as a car of X7s appeared along with two X6s.
"Names?" we heard someone yell as they hurried over with a clipboard.
"The X7s are Khia, Sean, Billy, Damien and Indra and we're Fixit and Zero," said the male X6.
"I thought you were coming with two more X6s and an X8?" enquired the anomaly with the clipboard.
"Ralph, Bullet and Bugler stopped in town, they'll be here soon," said the female.
Justin sighed and got up. "Nobody really important's arrived yet," he said. "I'm gonna watch tomorrow."
"Two days 'til celebrations begin. Mom's group probably hasn't even arrived yet," I agreed. We'd been sent out to watch for any of Mom's X5 siblings and their families arriving.
Although there were many happy reunions taking place outside on the street, Mom had become rather subdued. She did not speak of our dad, instead fuelling all of her energy into finding family she had not seen in many, many years. I found her sitting at a new kitchen table (someone had chopped our old one up for firewood) perusing a familiar-looking notebook.
"Whatcha doin' Mom?" I asked flippantly, gazing at the notebook.
"I've managed to track down the names of some of my group- mostly the twins of the X5 heroes."
"Which ones?" I asked, sitting down with her.
"600, 799, 211, 702, 472, 206, 657 and 735. I don't know how many got out in the fire. I hope they all did."
I didn't know what to say. I imagined going almost twenty years without knowing where your family was. I would have gone insane.
That night I lay on a new camp bed in the same room I'd lived in as a child. Just as I began to drift off to sleep (having not slept in four days) Steel's voice came out of the darkness.
"Free?"
"Yeah?"
"Where is Dad buried?"
I froze. Now that I thought about it, I had no idea what had been done with my father's body. A friend of my mother's had led us away after I'd scared the reporter out of the City. There hadn't been a funeral.
I remember eavesdropping behind a door as my mom's friend, a lady named Sophie Nichols (we called her Sophie or Aunt Sophie) who'd gone missing after the opening of the gates talked quietly with Mom. It was a couple of days after the riot.
'So when is the funeral, Kara?'
My mom's voice was thick, as if she'd buried her face in her pillow. Thinking of it, she probably had. 'You know as well as anyone that transgenics don't have funerals. I mean, did we ever get to say goodbye to our group when they died?'
'That was then, this is now. Your kids need to say goodbye to Splint. Seeing his body in the street is hardly going to contribute to their development as well-adjusted, happy people.'
One thing about Sophie was that she was mostly quiet. But when she needed to, she never minced words.
'I don't think they could handle it, Soph.'
Aunt Sophie had given a rather feline growl of exasperation. 'What you mean is YOU can't handle it.'
'I was always so...'
'Mean?' suggested Sophie. Behind the door, I'd winced.
'Yeah! Mean. I was always really mean to him. It astonishes me that the kids had the tiniest bit of respect for him. They'd stand there laughing while I yelled at him.'
'Well, what was it that you'd tell your kids two seconds after he'd left the room, as soon as you'd caught your breath?'
I could hear Mom begin to cry. I really wanted to run in there and hug her, but I couldn't. I wanted to hear her say it.
'I'd tell 'em, "Your dad is a wonderful man and he loves all three of you very, very much. He does his best all the time, but sometimes I have to keep him in line. It doesn't mean he's bad, because he's not." But-'
'What?'
I'd dreaded what she'd say next.
'It's impossible!'
I let out a breath. She hadn't been about to speak badly of my dad.
There was a silence. 'Did you love him?'
'Pardon?'
'I asked you if you loved him?'
Mom removed her face from the pillow. 'Of course I did! All he ever did was be nice to me. All he ever did was try to be positive about things. And I was just a bitch to him, all the time.'
'Then why won't you end it on good terms and say goodbye?'
'Because I didn't want it to end.'
'Try, Kara, OK? Think about it.'
'Sure. All right. Yeah.'
We didn't end up having a funeral. Mom was out of bed in a few days, charging around the house. She didn't say another word on the subject, at least not to me. I didn't like to cry in front of my mother. She always made me feel weird, staring in shock. I guess she still couldn't get used to the idea of children being able to cry in front of adults.
"Free?" asked Steel. I was pulled out of my reverie. "Are you awake?"
"Yeah. I... I don't know where Dad is buried."
"You don't?"
"No."
"I was just thinking... 'cause maybe you guys went to the funeral and thought I was too young and sensitive to go? You could've gone while I was asleep, I used to sleep a lot after Dad went. So are you sure Mom didn't just say not to tell me?"
This was making me feel worse. I turned to the wall.
"Steel?"
"Uh-huh?"
"Shut up."
There was a pause. Steel replied meekly, "Sorry, sis."
The next morning I sat in the kitchen drinking hot chocolate. In a fit of nostalgia I'd made myself the Terminal City equivalent of hot chocolate- hot water and chocolate powder. We'd only got the stuff on special occasions, and then only if we were good. It kind of grew on you if you tried to overlook the fact that there wasn't any milk.
Celebrations would begin in the late afternoon and end at about noon the next day. The COs of each group would say a few words, and then would be a party. I questioned having a party, everyone knowing full well that it was the anniversary of a very sad day. Justin had looked at me as if I were an idiot.
"It's supposed to be a celebration of their lives, Free. Today every year transgenics mope around their houses, go out, get drunk- that's gonna change this year."
It was a nice idea, I thought. A bit too much of a change of pace for me. The Anniversary of the Riot each year was spent hiding out at home brooding. I'd even seen the footage of our family crying over Dad's body one year on the television and put my foot through the screen. A party? Weird!
Mom had gone out early with Steel to see if they could find any of our old neighbours, or any of the X5s from her group. Justin had gone down the street to see if anyone had any milk. "Put me off hot chocolate forever, having to drink that stupid making-do shit," he said scornfully, heading out the door.
A knock at the door. I went to answer it and found a woman in her late twenties standing there. An X8, I thought immediately, judging from the age.
"Yes?"
"Someone told me the Xavier family still lives here," said the woman. She still stood like a soldier, her arms in the 'at ease' position. She saw me staring and promptly snapped into a normal sort of stance, clearly embarrassed.
"Well, no. We're just staying here for the weekend. Who are you?"
"Scott Reddoch."
I sniggered.
"OK, yes, ha ha. Enough of the laughter. I KNOW it's primarily a boy's name. Are your parents in, Free?"
I blinked. "How do you know my name?"
She cocked her head to the side. A small smile twitched the side of her mouth. "You don't remember me, do you?"
"Haven't a clue who you are, if that's what you mean."
"You probably wouldn't. Kara and Splint used to help me and my family out sometimes. We could manage ourselves without any trouble a little after you were born, so no, I don't s'pose you would remember me."
"Your family?" I didn't know how many X8s there were in the City. It had to be a lot. Still, a great many hadn't made it. Some had died in the fire, a few were captured afterwards, others were hit by cars, starved to death... Out of all the escapees from the fire, the X8s probably had the least experience about living on the Outside.
"Just the five of us. Three boys, a younger girl and me."
"Um..." I sort of remembered some X8s stopping by every now and again when I was very small. The visits stopped entirely by the time Steel was born.
"Well, I don't suppose I can really blame you. Are your mom and dad in?"
"Mom's gone with my sister to see if any of her group have arrived yet-"
There was a banging noise of the back screen door opening and closing. "And they haven't!" called Mom. "But we did find a friend of mine."
She came to the door. "Who's the visitor, Free?"
Scott grinned. "Don't tell me you don't remember me either, Mrs Xavier."
Mom laughed. She moved forward as if to hug her, but seemed to think better of it and extended a hand. "Scott. God, you've grown up. Come in."
At the kitchen table sat another X8, much younger than our first visitor. Her hair was black and curly and she was talking with Steel, who was fishing cups out of one of our boxes. She seemed to be of Indian descent, and knew Scott, waving to her as we came back in.
"I TOLD you they'd be at the gates, Scott!"
"We found Trisha for you," said Mom dryly.
"Well, we can't stay," said Scott in a bossy manner. "I e-mailed Seth and Harley last week, Trish. They're staying at X8 Central. Vince is coming later on." She sat down in the chair next to Trisha.
I knew about X8 Central. It was an old office building where the surviving X8s had stayed as a group, wary of the older transgenics. It was quite a busy place, and you'd always spot them running in and out. They called it their X8 Central, and the name stuck. Only the leading X5s really dared to go inside. It was THEIR place.
Trisha pouted. "I could use some water, Kara, ma'am. The car broke down in Washington and we had to push it the rest of the way."
Mom obliged and poured Trisha some water from a bottle in the icebox. "Trisha, you're twenty-six years old. You don't have to call me ma'am."
Trisha slurped water, protesting between gulps. "Least I'm not as bad as Scott. Nobody ever called you MRS XAVIER 'cept for her."
As they stood up to go, Steel said, "Can I come too? I always wondered what was inside X8 Central that made it so damn impenetrable."
Scott and Trisha exchanged looks. "I guess. The place will be a sty after ten years."
The two women picked up suitcases that Trisha had flung onto the back step. Mildly interested, I tagged along too.
True, X8 Central was a wreck. Various former residents were striding around inside, throwing trash through the broken upstairs windows. Three of the women were huddled on the front steps smoking cigarettes. Scott and Trisha nodded to them in recognition.
The inside was dark and gloomy. Trisha charged inside and high-fived another X8 who was lighting candles in the darker corners. About five X8s had hung wind chimes in the front doorway. It was so weird to see the transgenics most of the older series referred to as 'those punk kids' helping their children unpack, smoking rats out of the kitchen area and blaring rock music from the front room with nobody turning a hair. They had been the ones who taught us martial arts moves, boosted us through the windows when we got locked out of the house, sorted us into fair teams for war games... they were our allies, a bunch of overgrown kids. Now they were grown-up.
Like us.
Then Trish yelled out. "Seth!" She was furiously hugging one of the men. Eyes shining, she stood back so Scott could greet him.
Scott coughed. "Good to see you, Seth." She extended a hand.
Trisha snorted. "God, Scott, will you ever change?" She gave her a shove so she ended up hugging him too.
"Come and help me unpack, you two," said Trisha. "I know where I'm sleeping."
An ancient piece of cardboard had been nailed over the door of an old file room that the X8s had turned into the kitchen. "You're sleeping in the kitchen?" I asked in confusion.
"My old haunt," she nodded. Her eyes widened in indignation as she entered. There were two young teenagers standing guiltily in the ashy room.
"Oh, dear," muttered Steel.
"MORONS," she yelled. My sister and I jumped. "FUCKING morons. Go destroy your parents' rooms!"
"We were smoking out the rats!" protested one. Her older brother nodded vociferously.
"Get out!" she barked.
So somehow the two of us were roped into scrubbing the place. I asked why she was doing this, or even wanting to sleep in the same place when she'd be leaving in a couple of days. "Respect," was her only answer.
"See, the thing I don't get," Steel said suddenly as if we'd just been having a conversation, "is how the riot started. I don't really remember. I mean, I was only seven."
"Steel, shut up," I ordered.
She ignored me. "You wouldn't remember either, Free. You were at home 'cause it was your turn with the comic book."
Silence.
"You remember the comic book, dontcha? That mouldy one from 2022 that kinda belonged to all the kids in the neighbourhood. Like, Cora would have it for a month, then Aya, then all of her brothers (in age order), then Nina, then Lewis, then someone else, then their brother, then their sister, then you, then-"
"I get it, Steel."
Steel continued, "I just remember playing Field Hospital with one of Aya's little brothers and this second-gen Psy-Ops named Cami and then there was yelling and screaming. I went and sat on the stoop into Aunt Sophie's house and just watched when all this fighting spilled into the street. I was kind of annoyed 'cause they were filling up the street and we couldn't play Field Hospital properly. But then Mom came with you and Justin and Dad saying we had to hide."
"Steel, sh-"
"You can't remember?" asked Trisha from the steps, where she was trying to clean ash out of a knothole in the doorway. "I do."
"You're kidding."
"I was sixteen years old at the time, you know. And I'm only twenty-six now. Somehow I don't think my memory's started to go yet," she said waspishly.
"Tell us!" said Steel, crawling over to her. I went to scrub near the opposite door. Somehow I wasn't sure I wanted to hear this.
"One of my sisters, Rannie, she got the full story from an X5 who heard it from an X4 who heard it from the brother of the X6 who started it. You see, one of the houses was in deep trouble. Starving. They were too full of pride, forbade anyone outside the house to know. The fastest girl, an X6 named Immi, sneaked out of the City to find food. She stole someone's ration card, took out money and bought provisions. She kept doing it, unknown to anyone but her friends. She started to get very good at it- but too confident. She was caught and identified. They killed her."
A pause. "Then what?"
"Her friends didn't know what happened to her. Finally, her boyfriend got out and found out she wasn't coming back. He went back with the news. He was numb, Rannie told me. Crushed. So he just snapped. He broke out again, and killed some sector police. People came after him. But the entrance Immi had found and showed him was blocked. He didn't have any way in. The small gate- you know, for motorcycles and that- was unmanned. He tried to get over the main gates, but the few people had turned into a mob. They broke down the gates and before long it turned into a riot. He was the first one they got."
I suddenly asked, leaning against the doorframe. "W-What did they do to him?"
"Stabbed him to death. Here-" (Trisha gestured to her chest) "- and here-" (She motioned toward her navel) "- and here." (She pointed over her shoulder to her lower back)
Steel and I winced.
"X8 Central had a lot of casualties. They nearly hung my brother Vincent."
I raised my eyebrows. "Nearly?"
"From a low beam in here. We came back because Rannie and Uther remembered we had grenades in here. We found him hanging from the ceiling. Rannie was the first one to walk in. She started screaming like she'd seen a werewolf or something. She couldn't stand up, she fell onto the floor and was screaming and covering her eyes. We have to be Manticore's biggest failures, the X8s. What's the use of a soldier who can't stand the sight of a dead body?"
We murmured something and let her continue.
"I ran and cut him down while Uther tried to get her to stop screaming. And then he woke up. Vincent wasn't dead." Trisha blinked and I was astonished to see that she was crying. Crying, but laughing at the same time.
"Are you OK?" asked Steel hesitantly.
"Yeah, I'm- fine. I was so relieved. I slapped him senseless as soon as he was breathing and threw a fit." Trisha did a silly imitation of herself. "'Don't you ever, EVER scare me like that AGAIN!'"
The two of us laughed.
"So, where's your dad? I always liked him. He was a real nice guy. He let me hold your brother a coupla times, when Justin was a baby."
The mirth petered out right then and there. Trisha suddenly realised.
"Oh."
"He's dead," said Steel unnecessarily.
"You don't have to be sorry," I put in. "It's not like we're special or anything."
"Mmm," said Trisha.
It was nearing about five-thirty in the afternoon when I stuck my head around the bathroom door to yell for another bucket of water only to find Justin, smirking slightly and brandishing one under my nose. "Just like old times, huh?" he teased. "How many buckets does that make it now? Eleven?"
"I counted thirteen," said Steel offhandedly, striding past us half in and half out of a new shirt. None of us three was really overly shy about our bodies. When we'd lived in the City all the time we often had to share a bath- first a bucket when we were babies, then a tin bath when we inevitably outgrew the bucket. Often two of us would be sitting on chairs, chatting amiably with the one in the bath. The tin bath had been my most ingenious hiding-place when our mom would shoo us away from her card games with Aunt Sophie and a couple more aunts whose faces are blurred now in my mind's eye. "Go and play Hide and Seek!" she'd say, because that was one of the few games she vaguely knew that kids found entertaining, having never played any games herself. I'd overturn it and hide underneath until I began to get too big. The sight of a tin bath hovering over the kitchen floorboards is definitely a suspicious one.
Steel and I had filled it with blankets and coats on a few occasions, luxuriating in the sunbeam under the window and telling ghost stories that were somehow marvellously spooky even in the light of a summer morning.
Once the bottom floor, where Dad and Mom had moved from Dad's original second-floor living space when baby Justin had taken a header down the stairs, got flooded. Justin and I sneaked downstairs and played boats with the bath, one of us sitting on the staircase while the other rowed the boat-bath up and down the hall with a shovel. When Dad, who'd climbed out of a window to go and get supplies, forgot himself and opened the front door he got the shock of his life when not only a waist-high wall of water, but his adopted son in the bathtub hit him. He'd broken both his knees and been ploughed over by the hapless preteen. That was the first and last time we ever played Boats.
But most of all, being subconsciously taught the dangers of being fanciful, we used the bath for what it was s'posed to be. We took baths together until Justin, then me and finally Steel had become paranoid about being seen naked.
"Kids, hurry up!" Mom bellowed. When she wanted to, Mom could make her voice sound like a car alarm- booming. I hurriedly snatched up a towel and dried off, hurriedly changing into my equivalent of 'sensible' clothes- a black shirt I'd once been able to wear as a dress, black boots with square toes and black tights. This had been cause for great mirth, according to Justin. He'd promptly collapsed into a fit of laughter. "You look like you're going to a funeral!"
I'd exchanged a tense look with Steel, who was changing her shirt yet again in the background, and while hunting for something to add colour to the outfit had briefly wondered what I could have worn to Dad's funeral... if he'd had one. I didn't have anything particularly funeral-worthy in my cardboard box of clothes that I shared with both my sibs.
Even today I wonder where my dad's body came to be...
We came to the square. A valiant attempt had been made to clean it up, but transgenics are more proficient in the area of bringing things crashing down rather than maintaining them. One thing we have maintained, though, is our military roots. I had brought a marker pen along and was doodling on my arm in my usual don't-give-a-damn way, but stopped when the COs of each class and the leaders of the anomalies marched to the head of the assembly.
I was slightly surprised to spot Scott Reddoch standing between the X7 and X9 (a more animal-like series and the last before the X10s, which would have been the official codename for the products of the Manticore breeding programme). Although I have thought of my parents' first home as many things- my own personal Hell, for instance- I had never thought of it as sexist. Yet plainly I saw that Scott was one of about two female COs.
Aunt Sophie and her daughter Astri were sitting on cardboard boxes. I saw what looked like Trisha and Seth sitting on a low brick wall with two other male X8s. Steel's eyes widened and she tugged on my arm as she saw an X2- a twisted, scarred monster with its teeth protruding scarily over its lip, ropes of spit dangling from a gaping mouth. We couldn't tell whether it was male of female. It was on the arm of a nervous-looking X10.
The Terminal City flag was raised. Unwilling to be grouped again, many had insisted the flag was stupid, but a majority (who preferred anonymity to avoid bodily harm) had voted to gather in the square and stand in the shadow of the great flag like they had so very long ago.
An X8 shyly stepped out of the shadows when everyone was said to be there. He raised a bugle to his lips-
And in the long shadows, 'Taps' began to play.
Granted, it was no picture. There were still the ones sniffling or scratching or staring blankly ahead. 'Taps', a tune I'd heard Dad hum in the mornings, had a botched note or two. A few of the women burst into tears (noisily or otherwise depended on their personal level of self-control) and some of the males coughed and wiped their eyes.
But I was still proud to stand there again.
I snapped out of the mood almost instantaneously. I giggled as Justin mouthed THE SERVICE IS ENDED. GO IN PEACE. as we were dismissed. I tried to wave at Trisha as she, Seth and the other two men (presumedly Vincent and Harley) set off to find Scott, one with his arm protectively around her shoulders. I began humming an old Missy Elliot song in appreciation as a good-looking second-generation X5 boy sauntered past with his younger brothers, making Steel smirk. And I was happy to get to the all-night party. Justin was right- this DID make a nice change from staying home and brooding.
Mom was happy. She sussed out where Aunt Sophie was almost right away, and the two of them stalked off together in their comforting, matey way.
So Justin, Steel and I were left to our own devices. Almost like the old days. We spent the first few hours just wandering. "Let's go get dr- AUNT AMNA!" squealed Steel, throwing herself at our 'aunt'. Aunt Amna really had been like an aunty to us three, rather than like one of Mom or Dad's female friends.
Aunt Amna replied, "Steel! And you two as well! Free, you look so... so..."
"Ridiculous?" supplied Justin. I smacked him.
Make that VERY MUCH like the old days.
We joined our aunt's party in a somewhat unfamiliar street. She seemed to be the hostess, leading Steel (who always had been her favourite) in by the hand and announcing loudly that we were her brother's kids.
"Dunno how he can have any more of them kids," commented an apelike anomaly. "He's got six already, hasn't he?"
"Not THAT brother," said Amna impatiently. "My OTHER brother."
Justin milled away to take part in an arm-wrestling competition that was just beginning, and a boy began to flirt with Steel, leaving me with my aunt.
"Lay a hand on her and you'll have to deal with me!" called Aunt Amna after the boy, who nodded fearfully. She turned to me. "D'you know if you take this road and take every left turn you find you'll eventually end up at the main gates, Free? I was one of the ones trying to barricade the damn thing in the riot."
My breath caught painfully in my chest. Music pumped from far off and the already drunk were singing along.
"Who else was there?" I heard my voice asking.
"Not many, actually. Your dad, and me, mostly anomalies and X7s. Had a Special Ops in there somewhere. I am-" (Here Amna swelled fitfully) "- the champion X5 female at martial arts. I could hold my own easily. Easily."
"Aunt Amna?"
"Yes, sweetie?"
Sweetie. She called me that as easily as if I'd been six. I didn't detest it, exactly... but I wasn't six. I was eighteen.
I had to know.
"Tell me... how my dad went down."
Her dark face, beautiful even then, clouded. "I can't tell you that."
"I want to know," I said stubbornly.
"It'd be cruel," she said, equally stubborn.
"I'm from Manticore too, you know. Somehow. I can take it, aunt."
There was a silence filled by empty sounds of pain deadened and pride wailed to the night.
"You're right. God. You're absolutely right."
I took a breath. "Tell me."
"We were trying to alternate, all of us, between kicking the rioters out of the City and preventing more from coming in when the damage report came."
Raising an eyebrow, I enquired, "Damage report?"
"You know. Who was on the run, who'd been found, who was- dead. And it was this kid, can't remember her name, telling us. She said she'd seen your mom go down on the other side of the City and you three run off into the network of alleys."
Dad. Oh, God no. I already had a mental image of what might have transpired.
Dad, why?
"He went white," continued Amna. "Splint mouthed your mom's name like it was a holy word that was gonna make all his dreams come true. He looked around wildly for a second and then he split. He left his post and became vulnerable, punching and kicking his way through the thick of the fight, sending even other transgenics flying. All he was thinking about was the four of you. All he wanted at that second was for you to be all right." She smiled weakly. "Guess he... he got his wish, huh?"
I lowered my head. "What happened next?"
"Kind of ungraceful, really," she murmured. "A gun went off and a bullet ricocheted off the sidewalk. Hit him square in the back. Free?"
"Yeah?" I looked up reluctantly.
"I had never seen anyone who loved his family like Splint did. In Manticore or out... what your dad lacked in coordination-" (we both smirked) "- he made up a million times with love."
And so I thanked my aunt, and kissed her cheek in a very little-girly sort of way and sauntered off with as much dignity as I could muster. As soon as I'd located a conveniently dark corner I burst into tears.
Justin and Steel have a sixth sense for when their siblings are depressed. They were at my side immediately.
"Free?" Steel patted my arm. "Are you OK?"
"D-Dad probably died thinking it was gonna be... OK, 'cause we'd be waiting for him- or thinking we were in danger! L-Like it was his fault or somethin'!" I wailed.
This was not very coherent and Justin coughed. "Uh, have you been drinking, Freedom Xavier?"
"Shut up, Justin," said Steel and I at the same time.
I blubbed out the story. They were quiet.
"It's too much for us here. Let's go somewhere. I think I know where Mom is," Justin said, and we headed off into the night.
Fireworks rained over the stars and the party raged on. We ran across Mom playing, of all things, a game of cards with Aunt Sophie and two X5 women I'd never met before.
"Your aunts," said Mom, beaming at the women.
"MORE aunts?" asked Steel rudely. Mom gave her the Evil Eye, but Sophie and the two unfamiliar women burst into laughter.
"X5 702," said a brown-eyed blonde, giving us the peace signal. "Alias Vi. Vi Te Ahi."
"Weird," I commented, sniffling.
"Thank you," she grinned.
"And I'm Donna," volunteered the other aunt, who was also blonde, but with wide-set blue eyes and freckles. "Donna Keys."
Vi elbowed her.
"X5-211," Donna elaborated.
Mom and Sophie excused themselves to go and get some drinks. Steel and I were left with the new aunts.
"We old wives," said Vi, stretching out her legs on the steps where they sat, "have been made to tell the same dumb stories over and over again, you know.
"Dumb?" asked Aunt Donna, the softer-spoken one, in a dangerous tone.
"Oh, I can't complain. I'm finding it fun."
Donna picked up where her X5 sister left off. "We're geniuses. Ask us anything."
And I thought suddenly about the questions I'd had answered and the answers I'd never fully know. I had one more I'd never quite had the guts to ask.
"What was our mom like when she was our age?"
Aunt Vi blinked. "Your mom? Girls, she was... something else."
"Entirely," put in Donna helpfully.
"She was always the one who'd jump up, waving her arms and yelling our her ideas, no matter how stupid they were. But you could sort of tell something a bit more... deep was going on with her. She'd lead us into battle like she was Alexandra the Great or something. Yet it stands, girls, that your mom was generally the jokester. She was essentially the X5 nutcase."
Donna gave her pseudosister a piercing look. "I think it was YOU, actually, who was the nutcase, Vi."
"What was her best class?"
"Battle Psychology," answered Aunt Donna. "Which was basically just the fancy name for getting in people's faces and figuring out how long it'd take for 'em to crack."
"Kara used to scare me silly in that class."
"Havin' fun?" asked Mom, whose face was alight with laughter as she returned with Aunt Sophie.
I looked around. A party. My family- my FAMILY- were having a party on this date, in the middle of the night. There were lights in the sky and lights in my eyes and we'd all gotten together like a big family.
There was only one answer that could be given.
"Sure," I said offhandedly.
I didn't sleep for three days. The party would peter out in the daytime, everyone would insist they were going home or taking naps or otherwise halting the reunion, but by sundown we'd be partying again. I went to bed fairly early on the third night, and staring at the ceiling chatted away to Steel.
"... but, you know, Steel?"
"Yeah?"
"I never did feel that whole big transition dealio you're s'posed to get when you grow up. What's with that, huh?" I laughed shrilly into the silence.
"It's painfully obvious, sis."
"What is?"
"The transitional dealio dilemma. The reason you never felt like you became an adult, Free- is..." (Here Steel yawned and I heard her turn over) "'Cause we've all had to start our growing up since Day One."
"Really?"
"Shut up, Free."
I smiled into the darkness. "You mind if I play my radio for a bit?"
"Nope. 'Night."
"'Night," I echoed, and reached down to the floor.
Some guy was singing. And content with just the one station, I began to drift off.
"A million old soldiers will fade away but a dream goes on forever... I'm left standing here, I've got nothing to say- all is silent within my dream," the singer insisted.
It was the best sleep I had in some time. As I lapsed into darkness without pain and a world where anything is possible, the last words filled me.
"You're so far away and so long ago but my dream goes on forever. And how much I loved you you'll never know 'til you join me within my dream..."
* * *
DISCLAIMER: 'Dark Angel' belongs to Fox and James Cameron. 'A Dream Goes On Forever' belongs to Todd Rundgren, whoever the hell he was. Not me. So don't sue.
NOTE: *SMILES GRIMLY* A whole lotta filler if I ever saw it. Basically an excuse to introduce some of the characters who will be appearing in a prequel to GUITC that's all about... (dun dun DUN!)... Kara Xavier. Or Kara Kirk, as she was known back in the day. *LAUGHS* And yes- Donna and Vi were the two breeding females who Splint rescued from the fire along with Kara. They are Jondy and Syl's X5 twins, respectively.
But hey, at least I finally explained HOW the riot started and HOW Splint got killed. Not to mention Free got to tell just about everyone except that chick from 'Crossing Jordan' and the Prime Minister of Australia to shut up. Whee! :p
Laters, all!
I had a job. I'd turned eighteen years old, had a couple of boyfriends (no major relationships) and I'd finished school. Yet none of this made me feel as if my childhood was over. I was at heart a little girl in a woman's body.
And yet something was coming that I was counting on to end my childhood once and for all. It was the tenth anniversary of the fall of Terminal City. Ten years since Dad and Cora and many of my neighbours and friends had died. The anniversary of all the deaths was not something the former population liked to remember- it was more the day we became official American citizens and were allowed to see the Outside that was remembered. But it was ten years gone. They needed to be honoured.
A part of the City was cleaned up especially for the day, which was cold and windy that year. Transgenics flocked from all sides of the USA and beyond, even if they had never set foot in the City.
"It's been ten years. It's been far too long," whistled Justin, watching cars of transgenic families pull up through the City gates as we perched on the roof of our old house. X-series, anomalies and Special Ops anxiously waited, rushing to embrace long-lost family as they climbed out of their vehicles.
For the sake of the day, we had temporarily moved back into the City, into the last home we'd had. Steel and I were even sleeping in our old room, which had brought back wonderful memories.
"Yeah, I know," I replied. "A decade ago we were skinny kids who'd never seen a toaster or crossed an Outside street. Now we're adults."
There was a banging noise as Steel climbed through a window to reach us. "Riiiight, we're so much maturer now," she giggled. "Hey, Justin, watch your back!"
We looked around to see that she'd ripped a broken shingle from the roof and was preparing to throw it at our brother. He yelped as she purposely flung it to miss him and almost fell over laughing. "Steel!" he barked. "That wasn't funny!"
"Well, we know which one of us has the wit and finesse of a seven-year-old," I said, pulling Steel down to sit with us. In a rather childlike way, she leaned her head on my shoulder and smiled as a car of X7s appeared along with two X6s.
"Names?" we heard someone yell as they hurried over with a clipboard.
"The X7s are Khia, Sean, Billy, Damien and Indra and we're Fixit and Zero," said the male X6.
"I thought you were coming with two more X6s and an X8?" enquired the anomaly with the clipboard.
"Ralph, Bullet and Bugler stopped in town, they'll be here soon," said the female.
Justin sighed and got up. "Nobody really important's arrived yet," he said. "I'm gonna watch tomorrow."
"Two days 'til celebrations begin. Mom's group probably hasn't even arrived yet," I agreed. We'd been sent out to watch for any of Mom's X5 siblings and their families arriving.
Although there were many happy reunions taking place outside on the street, Mom had become rather subdued. She did not speak of our dad, instead fuelling all of her energy into finding family she had not seen in many, many years. I found her sitting at a new kitchen table (someone had chopped our old one up for firewood) perusing a familiar-looking notebook.
"Whatcha doin' Mom?" I asked flippantly, gazing at the notebook.
"I've managed to track down the names of some of my group- mostly the twins of the X5 heroes."
"Which ones?" I asked, sitting down with her.
"600, 799, 211, 702, 472, 206, 657 and 735. I don't know how many got out in the fire. I hope they all did."
I didn't know what to say. I imagined going almost twenty years without knowing where your family was. I would have gone insane.
That night I lay on a new camp bed in the same room I'd lived in as a child. Just as I began to drift off to sleep (having not slept in four days) Steel's voice came out of the darkness.
"Free?"
"Yeah?"
"Where is Dad buried?"
I froze. Now that I thought about it, I had no idea what had been done with my father's body. A friend of my mother's had led us away after I'd scared the reporter out of the City. There hadn't been a funeral.
I remember eavesdropping behind a door as my mom's friend, a lady named Sophie Nichols (we called her Sophie or Aunt Sophie) who'd gone missing after the opening of the gates talked quietly with Mom. It was a couple of days after the riot.
'So when is the funeral, Kara?'
My mom's voice was thick, as if she'd buried her face in her pillow. Thinking of it, she probably had. 'You know as well as anyone that transgenics don't have funerals. I mean, did we ever get to say goodbye to our group when they died?'
'That was then, this is now. Your kids need to say goodbye to Splint. Seeing his body in the street is hardly going to contribute to their development as well-adjusted, happy people.'
One thing about Sophie was that she was mostly quiet. But when she needed to, she never minced words.
'I don't think they could handle it, Soph.'
Aunt Sophie had given a rather feline growl of exasperation. 'What you mean is YOU can't handle it.'
'I was always so...'
'Mean?' suggested Sophie. Behind the door, I'd winced.
'Yeah! Mean. I was always really mean to him. It astonishes me that the kids had the tiniest bit of respect for him. They'd stand there laughing while I yelled at him.'
'Well, what was it that you'd tell your kids two seconds after he'd left the room, as soon as you'd caught your breath?'
I could hear Mom begin to cry. I really wanted to run in there and hug her, but I couldn't. I wanted to hear her say it.
'I'd tell 'em, "Your dad is a wonderful man and he loves all three of you very, very much. He does his best all the time, but sometimes I have to keep him in line. It doesn't mean he's bad, because he's not." But-'
'What?'
I'd dreaded what she'd say next.
'It's impossible!'
I let out a breath. She hadn't been about to speak badly of my dad.
There was a silence. 'Did you love him?'
'Pardon?'
'I asked you if you loved him?'
Mom removed her face from the pillow. 'Of course I did! All he ever did was be nice to me. All he ever did was try to be positive about things. And I was just a bitch to him, all the time.'
'Then why won't you end it on good terms and say goodbye?'
'Because I didn't want it to end.'
'Try, Kara, OK? Think about it.'
'Sure. All right. Yeah.'
We didn't end up having a funeral. Mom was out of bed in a few days, charging around the house. She didn't say another word on the subject, at least not to me. I didn't like to cry in front of my mother. She always made me feel weird, staring in shock. I guess she still couldn't get used to the idea of children being able to cry in front of adults.
"Free?" asked Steel. I was pulled out of my reverie. "Are you awake?"
"Yeah. I... I don't know where Dad is buried."
"You don't?"
"No."
"I was just thinking... 'cause maybe you guys went to the funeral and thought I was too young and sensitive to go? You could've gone while I was asleep, I used to sleep a lot after Dad went. So are you sure Mom didn't just say not to tell me?"
This was making me feel worse. I turned to the wall.
"Steel?"
"Uh-huh?"
"Shut up."
There was a pause. Steel replied meekly, "Sorry, sis."
The next morning I sat in the kitchen drinking hot chocolate. In a fit of nostalgia I'd made myself the Terminal City equivalent of hot chocolate- hot water and chocolate powder. We'd only got the stuff on special occasions, and then only if we were good. It kind of grew on you if you tried to overlook the fact that there wasn't any milk.
Celebrations would begin in the late afternoon and end at about noon the next day. The COs of each group would say a few words, and then would be a party. I questioned having a party, everyone knowing full well that it was the anniversary of a very sad day. Justin had looked at me as if I were an idiot.
"It's supposed to be a celebration of their lives, Free. Today every year transgenics mope around their houses, go out, get drunk- that's gonna change this year."
It was a nice idea, I thought. A bit too much of a change of pace for me. The Anniversary of the Riot each year was spent hiding out at home brooding. I'd even seen the footage of our family crying over Dad's body one year on the television and put my foot through the screen. A party? Weird!
Mom had gone out early with Steel to see if they could find any of our old neighbours, or any of the X5s from her group. Justin had gone down the street to see if anyone had any milk. "Put me off hot chocolate forever, having to drink that stupid making-do shit," he said scornfully, heading out the door.
A knock at the door. I went to answer it and found a woman in her late twenties standing there. An X8, I thought immediately, judging from the age.
"Yes?"
"Someone told me the Xavier family still lives here," said the woman. She still stood like a soldier, her arms in the 'at ease' position. She saw me staring and promptly snapped into a normal sort of stance, clearly embarrassed.
"Well, no. We're just staying here for the weekend. Who are you?"
"Scott Reddoch."
I sniggered.
"OK, yes, ha ha. Enough of the laughter. I KNOW it's primarily a boy's name. Are your parents in, Free?"
I blinked. "How do you know my name?"
She cocked her head to the side. A small smile twitched the side of her mouth. "You don't remember me, do you?"
"Haven't a clue who you are, if that's what you mean."
"You probably wouldn't. Kara and Splint used to help me and my family out sometimes. We could manage ourselves without any trouble a little after you were born, so no, I don't s'pose you would remember me."
"Your family?" I didn't know how many X8s there were in the City. It had to be a lot. Still, a great many hadn't made it. Some had died in the fire, a few were captured afterwards, others were hit by cars, starved to death... Out of all the escapees from the fire, the X8s probably had the least experience about living on the Outside.
"Just the five of us. Three boys, a younger girl and me."
"Um..." I sort of remembered some X8s stopping by every now and again when I was very small. The visits stopped entirely by the time Steel was born.
"Well, I don't suppose I can really blame you. Are your mom and dad in?"
"Mom's gone with my sister to see if any of her group have arrived yet-"
There was a banging noise of the back screen door opening and closing. "And they haven't!" called Mom. "But we did find a friend of mine."
She came to the door. "Who's the visitor, Free?"
Scott grinned. "Don't tell me you don't remember me either, Mrs Xavier."
Mom laughed. She moved forward as if to hug her, but seemed to think better of it and extended a hand. "Scott. God, you've grown up. Come in."
At the kitchen table sat another X8, much younger than our first visitor. Her hair was black and curly and she was talking with Steel, who was fishing cups out of one of our boxes. She seemed to be of Indian descent, and knew Scott, waving to her as we came back in.
"I TOLD you they'd be at the gates, Scott!"
"We found Trisha for you," said Mom dryly.
"Well, we can't stay," said Scott in a bossy manner. "I e-mailed Seth and Harley last week, Trish. They're staying at X8 Central. Vince is coming later on." She sat down in the chair next to Trisha.
I knew about X8 Central. It was an old office building where the surviving X8s had stayed as a group, wary of the older transgenics. It was quite a busy place, and you'd always spot them running in and out. They called it their X8 Central, and the name stuck. Only the leading X5s really dared to go inside. It was THEIR place.
Trisha pouted. "I could use some water, Kara, ma'am. The car broke down in Washington and we had to push it the rest of the way."
Mom obliged and poured Trisha some water from a bottle in the icebox. "Trisha, you're twenty-six years old. You don't have to call me ma'am."
Trisha slurped water, protesting between gulps. "Least I'm not as bad as Scott. Nobody ever called you MRS XAVIER 'cept for her."
As they stood up to go, Steel said, "Can I come too? I always wondered what was inside X8 Central that made it so damn impenetrable."
Scott and Trisha exchanged looks. "I guess. The place will be a sty after ten years."
The two women picked up suitcases that Trisha had flung onto the back step. Mildly interested, I tagged along too.
True, X8 Central was a wreck. Various former residents were striding around inside, throwing trash through the broken upstairs windows. Three of the women were huddled on the front steps smoking cigarettes. Scott and Trisha nodded to them in recognition.
The inside was dark and gloomy. Trisha charged inside and high-fived another X8 who was lighting candles in the darker corners. About five X8s had hung wind chimes in the front doorway. It was so weird to see the transgenics most of the older series referred to as 'those punk kids' helping their children unpack, smoking rats out of the kitchen area and blaring rock music from the front room with nobody turning a hair. They had been the ones who taught us martial arts moves, boosted us through the windows when we got locked out of the house, sorted us into fair teams for war games... they were our allies, a bunch of overgrown kids. Now they were grown-up.
Like us.
Then Trish yelled out. "Seth!" She was furiously hugging one of the men. Eyes shining, she stood back so Scott could greet him.
Scott coughed. "Good to see you, Seth." She extended a hand.
Trisha snorted. "God, Scott, will you ever change?" She gave her a shove so she ended up hugging him too.
"Come and help me unpack, you two," said Trisha. "I know where I'm sleeping."
An ancient piece of cardboard had been nailed over the door of an old file room that the X8s had turned into the kitchen. "You're sleeping in the kitchen?" I asked in confusion.
"My old haunt," she nodded. Her eyes widened in indignation as she entered. There were two young teenagers standing guiltily in the ashy room.
"Oh, dear," muttered Steel.
"MORONS," she yelled. My sister and I jumped. "FUCKING morons. Go destroy your parents' rooms!"
"We were smoking out the rats!" protested one. Her older brother nodded vociferously.
"Get out!" she barked.
So somehow the two of us were roped into scrubbing the place. I asked why she was doing this, or even wanting to sleep in the same place when she'd be leaving in a couple of days. "Respect," was her only answer.
"See, the thing I don't get," Steel said suddenly as if we'd just been having a conversation, "is how the riot started. I don't really remember. I mean, I was only seven."
"Steel, shut up," I ordered.
She ignored me. "You wouldn't remember either, Free. You were at home 'cause it was your turn with the comic book."
Silence.
"You remember the comic book, dontcha? That mouldy one from 2022 that kinda belonged to all the kids in the neighbourhood. Like, Cora would have it for a month, then Aya, then all of her brothers (in age order), then Nina, then Lewis, then someone else, then their brother, then their sister, then you, then-"
"I get it, Steel."
Steel continued, "I just remember playing Field Hospital with one of Aya's little brothers and this second-gen Psy-Ops named Cami and then there was yelling and screaming. I went and sat on the stoop into Aunt Sophie's house and just watched when all this fighting spilled into the street. I was kind of annoyed 'cause they were filling up the street and we couldn't play Field Hospital properly. But then Mom came with you and Justin and Dad saying we had to hide."
"Steel, sh-"
"You can't remember?" asked Trisha from the steps, where she was trying to clean ash out of a knothole in the doorway. "I do."
"You're kidding."
"I was sixteen years old at the time, you know. And I'm only twenty-six now. Somehow I don't think my memory's started to go yet," she said waspishly.
"Tell us!" said Steel, crawling over to her. I went to scrub near the opposite door. Somehow I wasn't sure I wanted to hear this.
"One of my sisters, Rannie, she got the full story from an X5 who heard it from an X4 who heard it from the brother of the X6 who started it. You see, one of the houses was in deep trouble. Starving. They were too full of pride, forbade anyone outside the house to know. The fastest girl, an X6 named Immi, sneaked out of the City to find food. She stole someone's ration card, took out money and bought provisions. She kept doing it, unknown to anyone but her friends. She started to get very good at it- but too confident. She was caught and identified. They killed her."
A pause. "Then what?"
"Her friends didn't know what happened to her. Finally, her boyfriend got out and found out she wasn't coming back. He went back with the news. He was numb, Rannie told me. Crushed. So he just snapped. He broke out again, and killed some sector police. People came after him. But the entrance Immi had found and showed him was blocked. He didn't have any way in. The small gate- you know, for motorcycles and that- was unmanned. He tried to get over the main gates, but the few people had turned into a mob. They broke down the gates and before long it turned into a riot. He was the first one they got."
I suddenly asked, leaning against the doorframe. "W-What did they do to him?"
"Stabbed him to death. Here-" (Trisha gestured to her chest) "- and here-" (She motioned toward her navel) "- and here." (She pointed over her shoulder to her lower back)
Steel and I winced.
"X8 Central had a lot of casualties. They nearly hung my brother Vincent."
I raised my eyebrows. "Nearly?"
"From a low beam in here. We came back because Rannie and Uther remembered we had grenades in here. We found him hanging from the ceiling. Rannie was the first one to walk in. She started screaming like she'd seen a werewolf or something. She couldn't stand up, she fell onto the floor and was screaming and covering her eyes. We have to be Manticore's biggest failures, the X8s. What's the use of a soldier who can't stand the sight of a dead body?"
We murmured something and let her continue.
"I ran and cut him down while Uther tried to get her to stop screaming. And then he woke up. Vincent wasn't dead." Trisha blinked and I was astonished to see that she was crying. Crying, but laughing at the same time.
"Are you OK?" asked Steel hesitantly.
"Yeah, I'm- fine. I was so relieved. I slapped him senseless as soon as he was breathing and threw a fit." Trisha did a silly imitation of herself. "'Don't you ever, EVER scare me like that AGAIN!'"
The two of us laughed.
"So, where's your dad? I always liked him. He was a real nice guy. He let me hold your brother a coupla times, when Justin was a baby."
The mirth petered out right then and there. Trisha suddenly realised.
"Oh."
"He's dead," said Steel unnecessarily.
"You don't have to be sorry," I put in. "It's not like we're special or anything."
"Mmm," said Trisha.
It was nearing about five-thirty in the afternoon when I stuck my head around the bathroom door to yell for another bucket of water only to find Justin, smirking slightly and brandishing one under my nose. "Just like old times, huh?" he teased. "How many buckets does that make it now? Eleven?"
"I counted thirteen," said Steel offhandedly, striding past us half in and half out of a new shirt. None of us three was really overly shy about our bodies. When we'd lived in the City all the time we often had to share a bath- first a bucket when we were babies, then a tin bath when we inevitably outgrew the bucket. Often two of us would be sitting on chairs, chatting amiably with the one in the bath. The tin bath had been my most ingenious hiding-place when our mom would shoo us away from her card games with Aunt Sophie and a couple more aunts whose faces are blurred now in my mind's eye. "Go and play Hide and Seek!" she'd say, because that was one of the few games she vaguely knew that kids found entertaining, having never played any games herself. I'd overturn it and hide underneath until I began to get too big. The sight of a tin bath hovering over the kitchen floorboards is definitely a suspicious one.
Steel and I had filled it with blankets and coats on a few occasions, luxuriating in the sunbeam under the window and telling ghost stories that were somehow marvellously spooky even in the light of a summer morning.
Once the bottom floor, where Dad and Mom had moved from Dad's original second-floor living space when baby Justin had taken a header down the stairs, got flooded. Justin and I sneaked downstairs and played boats with the bath, one of us sitting on the staircase while the other rowed the boat-bath up and down the hall with a shovel. When Dad, who'd climbed out of a window to go and get supplies, forgot himself and opened the front door he got the shock of his life when not only a waist-high wall of water, but his adopted son in the bathtub hit him. He'd broken both his knees and been ploughed over by the hapless preteen. That was the first and last time we ever played Boats.
But most of all, being subconsciously taught the dangers of being fanciful, we used the bath for what it was s'posed to be. We took baths together until Justin, then me and finally Steel had become paranoid about being seen naked.
"Kids, hurry up!" Mom bellowed. When she wanted to, Mom could make her voice sound like a car alarm- booming. I hurriedly snatched up a towel and dried off, hurriedly changing into my equivalent of 'sensible' clothes- a black shirt I'd once been able to wear as a dress, black boots with square toes and black tights. This had been cause for great mirth, according to Justin. He'd promptly collapsed into a fit of laughter. "You look like you're going to a funeral!"
I'd exchanged a tense look with Steel, who was changing her shirt yet again in the background, and while hunting for something to add colour to the outfit had briefly wondered what I could have worn to Dad's funeral... if he'd had one. I didn't have anything particularly funeral-worthy in my cardboard box of clothes that I shared with both my sibs.
Even today I wonder where my dad's body came to be...
We came to the square. A valiant attempt had been made to clean it up, but transgenics are more proficient in the area of bringing things crashing down rather than maintaining them. One thing we have maintained, though, is our military roots. I had brought a marker pen along and was doodling on my arm in my usual don't-give-a-damn way, but stopped when the COs of each class and the leaders of the anomalies marched to the head of the assembly.
I was slightly surprised to spot Scott Reddoch standing between the X7 and X9 (a more animal-like series and the last before the X10s, which would have been the official codename for the products of the Manticore breeding programme). Although I have thought of my parents' first home as many things- my own personal Hell, for instance- I had never thought of it as sexist. Yet plainly I saw that Scott was one of about two female COs.
Aunt Sophie and her daughter Astri were sitting on cardboard boxes. I saw what looked like Trisha and Seth sitting on a low brick wall with two other male X8s. Steel's eyes widened and she tugged on my arm as she saw an X2- a twisted, scarred monster with its teeth protruding scarily over its lip, ropes of spit dangling from a gaping mouth. We couldn't tell whether it was male of female. It was on the arm of a nervous-looking X10.
The Terminal City flag was raised. Unwilling to be grouped again, many had insisted the flag was stupid, but a majority (who preferred anonymity to avoid bodily harm) had voted to gather in the square and stand in the shadow of the great flag like they had so very long ago.
An X8 shyly stepped out of the shadows when everyone was said to be there. He raised a bugle to his lips-
And in the long shadows, 'Taps' began to play.
Granted, it was no picture. There were still the ones sniffling or scratching or staring blankly ahead. 'Taps', a tune I'd heard Dad hum in the mornings, had a botched note or two. A few of the women burst into tears (noisily or otherwise depended on their personal level of self-control) and some of the males coughed and wiped their eyes.
But I was still proud to stand there again.
I snapped out of the mood almost instantaneously. I giggled as Justin mouthed THE SERVICE IS ENDED. GO IN PEACE. as we were dismissed. I tried to wave at Trisha as she, Seth and the other two men (presumedly Vincent and Harley) set off to find Scott, one with his arm protectively around her shoulders. I began humming an old Missy Elliot song in appreciation as a good-looking second-generation X5 boy sauntered past with his younger brothers, making Steel smirk. And I was happy to get to the all-night party. Justin was right- this DID make a nice change from staying home and brooding.
Mom was happy. She sussed out where Aunt Sophie was almost right away, and the two of them stalked off together in their comforting, matey way.
So Justin, Steel and I were left to our own devices. Almost like the old days. We spent the first few hours just wandering. "Let's go get dr- AUNT AMNA!" squealed Steel, throwing herself at our 'aunt'. Aunt Amna really had been like an aunty to us three, rather than like one of Mom or Dad's female friends.
Aunt Amna replied, "Steel! And you two as well! Free, you look so... so..."
"Ridiculous?" supplied Justin. I smacked him.
Make that VERY MUCH like the old days.
We joined our aunt's party in a somewhat unfamiliar street. She seemed to be the hostess, leading Steel (who always had been her favourite) in by the hand and announcing loudly that we were her brother's kids.
"Dunno how he can have any more of them kids," commented an apelike anomaly. "He's got six already, hasn't he?"
"Not THAT brother," said Amna impatiently. "My OTHER brother."
Justin milled away to take part in an arm-wrestling competition that was just beginning, and a boy began to flirt with Steel, leaving me with my aunt.
"Lay a hand on her and you'll have to deal with me!" called Aunt Amna after the boy, who nodded fearfully. She turned to me. "D'you know if you take this road and take every left turn you find you'll eventually end up at the main gates, Free? I was one of the ones trying to barricade the damn thing in the riot."
My breath caught painfully in my chest. Music pumped from far off and the already drunk were singing along.
"Who else was there?" I heard my voice asking.
"Not many, actually. Your dad, and me, mostly anomalies and X7s. Had a Special Ops in there somewhere. I am-" (Here Amna swelled fitfully) "- the champion X5 female at martial arts. I could hold my own easily. Easily."
"Aunt Amna?"
"Yes, sweetie?"
Sweetie. She called me that as easily as if I'd been six. I didn't detest it, exactly... but I wasn't six. I was eighteen.
I had to know.
"Tell me... how my dad went down."
Her dark face, beautiful even then, clouded. "I can't tell you that."
"I want to know," I said stubbornly.
"It'd be cruel," she said, equally stubborn.
"I'm from Manticore too, you know. Somehow. I can take it, aunt."
There was a silence filled by empty sounds of pain deadened and pride wailed to the night.
"You're right. God. You're absolutely right."
I took a breath. "Tell me."
"We were trying to alternate, all of us, between kicking the rioters out of the City and preventing more from coming in when the damage report came."
Raising an eyebrow, I enquired, "Damage report?"
"You know. Who was on the run, who'd been found, who was- dead. And it was this kid, can't remember her name, telling us. She said she'd seen your mom go down on the other side of the City and you three run off into the network of alleys."
Dad. Oh, God no. I already had a mental image of what might have transpired.
Dad, why?
"He went white," continued Amna. "Splint mouthed your mom's name like it was a holy word that was gonna make all his dreams come true. He looked around wildly for a second and then he split. He left his post and became vulnerable, punching and kicking his way through the thick of the fight, sending even other transgenics flying. All he was thinking about was the four of you. All he wanted at that second was for you to be all right." She smiled weakly. "Guess he... he got his wish, huh?"
I lowered my head. "What happened next?"
"Kind of ungraceful, really," she murmured. "A gun went off and a bullet ricocheted off the sidewalk. Hit him square in the back. Free?"
"Yeah?" I looked up reluctantly.
"I had never seen anyone who loved his family like Splint did. In Manticore or out... what your dad lacked in coordination-" (we both smirked) "- he made up a million times with love."
And so I thanked my aunt, and kissed her cheek in a very little-girly sort of way and sauntered off with as much dignity as I could muster. As soon as I'd located a conveniently dark corner I burst into tears.
Justin and Steel have a sixth sense for when their siblings are depressed. They were at my side immediately.
"Free?" Steel patted my arm. "Are you OK?"
"D-Dad probably died thinking it was gonna be... OK, 'cause we'd be waiting for him- or thinking we were in danger! L-Like it was his fault or somethin'!" I wailed.
This was not very coherent and Justin coughed. "Uh, have you been drinking, Freedom Xavier?"
"Shut up, Justin," said Steel and I at the same time.
I blubbed out the story. They were quiet.
"It's too much for us here. Let's go somewhere. I think I know where Mom is," Justin said, and we headed off into the night.
Fireworks rained over the stars and the party raged on. We ran across Mom playing, of all things, a game of cards with Aunt Sophie and two X5 women I'd never met before.
"Your aunts," said Mom, beaming at the women.
"MORE aunts?" asked Steel rudely. Mom gave her the Evil Eye, but Sophie and the two unfamiliar women burst into laughter.
"X5 702," said a brown-eyed blonde, giving us the peace signal. "Alias Vi. Vi Te Ahi."
"Weird," I commented, sniffling.
"Thank you," she grinned.
"And I'm Donna," volunteered the other aunt, who was also blonde, but with wide-set blue eyes and freckles. "Donna Keys."
Vi elbowed her.
"X5-211," Donna elaborated.
Mom and Sophie excused themselves to go and get some drinks. Steel and I were left with the new aunts.
"We old wives," said Vi, stretching out her legs on the steps where they sat, "have been made to tell the same dumb stories over and over again, you know.
"Dumb?" asked Aunt Donna, the softer-spoken one, in a dangerous tone.
"Oh, I can't complain. I'm finding it fun."
Donna picked up where her X5 sister left off. "We're geniuses. Ask us anything."
And I thought suddenly about the questions I'd had answered and the answers I'd never fully know. I had one more I'd never quite had the guts to ask.
"What was our mom like when she was our age?"
Aunt Vi blinked. "Your mom? Girls, she was... something else."
"Entirely," put in Donna helpfully.
"She was always the one who'd jump up, waving her arms and yelling our her ideas, no matter how stupid they were. But you could sort of tell something a bit more... deep was going on with her. She'd lead us into battle like she was Alexandra the Great or something. Yet it stands, girls, that your mom was generally the jokester. She was essentially the X5 nutcase."
Donna gave her pseudosister a piercing look. "I think it was YOU, actually, who was the nutcase, Vi."
"What was her best class?"
"Battle Psychology," answered Aunt Donna. "Which was basically just the fancy name for getting in people's faces and figuring out how long it'd take for 'em to crack."
"Kara used to scare me silly in that class."
"Havin' fun?" asked Mom, whose face was alight with laughter as she returned with Aunt Sophie.
I looked around. A party. My family- my FAMILY- were having a party on this date, in the middle of the night. There were lights in the sky and lights in my eyes and we'd all gotten together like a big family.
There was only one answer that could be given.
"Sure," I said offhandedly.
I didn't sleep for three days. The party would peter out in the daytime, everyone would insist they were going home or taking naps or otherwise halting the reunion, but by sundown we'd be partying again. I went to bed fairly early on the third night, and staring at the ceiling chatted away to Steel.
"... but, you know, Steel?"
"Yeah?"
"I never did feel that whole big transition dealio you're s'posed to get when you grow up. What's with that, huh?" I laughed shrilly into the silence.
"It's painfully obvious, sis."
"What is?"
"The transitional dealio dilemma. The reason you never felt like you became an adult, Free- is..." (Here Steel yawned and I heard her turn over) "'Cause we've all had to start our growing up since Day One."
"Really?"
"Shut up, Free."
I smiled into the darkness. "You mind if I play my radio for a bit?"
"Nope. 'Night."
"'Night," I echoed, and reached down to the floor.
Some guy was singing. And content with just the one station, I began to drift off.
"A million old soldiers will fade away but a dream goes on forever... I'm left standing here, I've got nothing to say- all is silent within my dream," the singer insisted.
It was the best sleep I had in some time. As I lapsed into darkness without pain and a world where anything is possible, the last words filled me.
"You're so far away and so long ago but my dream goes on forever. And how much I loved you you'll never know 'til you join me within my dream..."
* * *
DISCLAIMER: 'Dark Angel' belongs to Fox and James Cameron. 'A Dream Goes On Forever' belongs to Todd Rundgren, whoever the hell he was. Not me. So don't sue.
NOTE: *SMILES GRIMLY* A whole lotta filler if I ever saw it. Basically an excuse to introduce some of the characters who will be appearing in a prequel to GUITC that's all about... (dun dun DUN!)... Kara Xavier. Or Kara Kirk, as she was known back in the day. *LAUGHS* And yes- Donna and Vi were the two breeding females who Splint rescued from the fire along with Kara. They are Jondy and Syl's X5 twins, respectively.
But hey, at least I finally explained HOW the riot started and HOW Splint got killed. Not to mention Free got to tell just about everyone except that chick from 'Crossing Jordan' and the Prime Minister of Australia to shut up. Whee! :p
Laters, all!