2: Playing God
One never really got used to programmers. Programmers whose talents included hacking were especially odd.
Most hackers were caught quickly, or repelled by systems their fellow programmers had created. However, there were those of a special caliber who were never caught. They were always under suspicion, but there was never enough evidence to convict them of the crime. Whenever there was enough, some key fraction of it always managed to disappear, leaving the Soldiers baffled, and the programmer in question free to go about their business. It was rare that a hacker used their talent for anything horribly damaging to the populace of Irk. Most were hired by those who wanted to disappear, to change their name, registered height or to leave the planet without going through the mounds of paperwork regulations required.
Arriving at the residence of Oulis Jahks, Lidge was ushered quickly into a dimly lit room. Oulis had a center apartment, rather than an edge one, like she did. The lack of real windows suited the programmer, as sunlight made for horrid glare on the computer screens. The Irken she assumed was Oulis's student mutely led her through the apartment, leading her towards the back. She pulled back some curtains, leading Lidge into what appeared to be Oulis's work area, and then moved over to the barely visible chair in the center of the room.
A small light came on, illuminating only the area around the chair. Now Lidge could see Oulis Jahks himself.
He was skin and bones. Hollows stood out beneath his darkly circled eyes and his clothes hung on him like blankets. His skin was a pale, almost sickly, shade of green, blending in with his shirt, which was also a pale, undeterminable color. Like all programmers, two wires ran from his right temple and down into the surrounding computers, all of which hummed idly. However, unlike most programmers, Oulis had a third wire, coming from his left temple, as well as small circular disks implanted into the fabric of his gloves. More wires ran from these disks. Lidge wondered, vaguely, just what color his eyes were. She had met with him several times, but had never seen him with his eyes opened. Always he had been sitting in his chair, silent and still, while she spoke and his answers appeared on the computer screen nearest to her.
That was what the wires were for. They allowed the programmers to communicate directly with the mainframes of the machines they manipulated. It helped them in their jobs, as well as in their hacking. The better the programmer, the more willing the machine was to respond. Oulis was one of the best, and so computers hurried to comply with his will. If he wanted to speak with someone, his exact words were spelled out on the monitors. Oulis also worked from home, and some speculated he had been born without sight, hearing, smell, and even without the ability to speak. It was even said he had some incurable disease that had caused all his disabilities. No one, save his student, had ever been around him long enough to discern whether the rumors were true or not.
"You're early."
She jumped, glancing wildly at Oulis. His eyes were open a fraction, opaque, unseeing. Yet, somehow, she knew he could see her. One of the rumors was true, at least. "Y-yes," she stammered. "I am. I finished early at the workshop."
His eyes closed again. Speaking seemed to take a great deal of effort out of him. The student, Lidge thought her name was Haveri, was at his side almost instantly, putting a hand on his arm. Oulis moved his fingers almost imperceptibly and Haveri scurried out of the room, some purpose in mind. His next words were typed out, rather than spoken with his dull, half-dead voice. "Met Rael?" he asked, a programmed voice reading the words with a monotone drawl. "Gave you something? Yes?"
She nodded, holding out the small, insignificant-seeming disk. Almost instantly, a robotic arm descended from the ceiling, took the disk and then retracted back into the darkness above. Startled, Lidge felt her eyes drawn upwards. The gloom held her gaze long enough for Haveri to slip into the room, attend her teacher and then return to Lidge's side. The mechanic stared. Such a maneuver had to have been rehearsed, yet, the significance it failed to register with her. Haveri smiled at her. "It's hard for him to talk," she explained. "Even with a monitor's help. He... actually prefers to do it... with this."
As she spoke, Haveri held up a circular device. Lidge had seen few like it. It was the latest reality simulator. Only a few were actually available to the general public of Irk, as testing had not yet been completed. It fit snuggly over the head, with wires connecting down into the backpod and out into the main computer outlet source. Supposedly, it accurately recreated any programmed world down to the movement of the wind itself. Before Lidge could protest, Haveri had slipped the device over her head and attached the necessary wires to her backpod.
Almost instantly the world of Oulis's apartment snapped out of focus, allowing a new one to form before her eyes. It was a strange sensation. For a moment, she felt suspended, and then she was slammed down into this new world. Her head rang.
"Well. About time I could see you with my own eyes. At least... how I remember seeing."
Lidge blinked. All around her, for miles, stretched a sea of silvery-green plants. Each one seemed only to be a leaf, rising up towards a bright, sparkling sun. A slight breeze stirred the air, awaking movement in the little plants. Here and there, a cloud drifted, a flower spiked up above the plants, and a hill rolled gently up or down. There was not a building, nor a transport, in sight. A little frightened, she glanced around, looking for something familiar to reassure her, not to mention the owner of that voice.
"Don't be afraid," said the voice, coming from the plants a few feet away. "Nothing in here is designed for hurt. Only for comfort."
Not surprisingly, an Irken slowly rose from a reclined position. He was fairly good-looking, with kind, blue-green eyes. Bicolor eyes, to be exact. His uniform, that of a programmer, was wrinkled and covered in leaves from the small plants. Lidge blinked.
"Adehal."
"Lidge Tikem."
She smiled and approached him. "I like this place you've designed. Very calming indeed."
Oulis smirked himself. "It is how Irk used to look... long before Irkens became advanced enough to expand their cities, to spread their technology to engulf the entire planet in its iron grasp." His voice was pleasantly deep, his speech slow and stirring.
"That's interesting," she said, sitting beside him. "coming from a programmer whose life depends on Irken technology."
For a moment, Oulis was silent and Lidge wondered if he'd heard her. Maybe there was a slight system malfunction. A breeze kicked up, sending flower petals spiraling through the warm air. At length, he spoke.
"That, my friend, is irony."
Another long moment of silence passed. Lidge was unsure whether he expected a response or not. Uncertainty was usually a better choice than insolence when dealing with a hacker called "God" in Old Irken. She looked out over the rolling expanse of little plants, deciding it was better to focus her gaze on the terrain, rather than Oulis. There was a sparkle in the distance that had to be water. If she was allowed time, a tour of her host's virtual world would be welcomed.
"One would assume," he began, choosing his words slowly and carefully. "that a smeet raised into the role of a computer programmer would have no ill words to speak towards the technology of their race. One would also assume that an Irken with the hack handle, 'Adehal' would have limitless power."
He paused, examining a bright yellow flower beside his boot toe.
"And yet, I sit before you, a programmer who blatantly denounces the usefulness and wonder of Irken technology. I sit before you, Lidge Tikem, with the name of 'Adehal', and I am alive only because a machine recreates all the functions of a normal, healthy Irken body for me. I am a God who is alive only because of the technology he despises with all his being. Irony."
With an angry twist, the yellow flower was pulled from its roots. Oulis stared at it, seeming surprised, and then handed it to Lidge. She accepted it wordlessly. The question she felt at the back of her mind seemed to be fairly obvious, and thus she hesitated asking him.
"Why do you hate technology, O-Adehal?" she murmured.
"You would hate mechanical work too, if every time you turned around, your head was shoved into a voot cruiser," Oulis replied quickly, a harsh edge to his voice that destroyed his usual tones of speech. It made Lidge flinch. Noticing it, Oulis elaborated. "My teacher, unfortunately, lacked adequate teaching skills. To her, the best way for me to learn my trade was to jam the wires that are strung through a programmer's brain into any wall outlet possible. She thought it was even better to... surprise me." He flashed a sardonic smile. "Needless to say, such experiences soured me on the equipment which I was to work with. I had to make several unscheduled visits to the med centers for cerebral damage." He blew a leaf off his glove. "I suppose that so much damage is responsible for the way I live now..." A sigh. "A teacher is supposed to teach so the student can live their life. My teacher taught... and because of it, I am dying. More irony."
Now Lidge was struggling to figure out why Oulis had even desired to speak with her. If he had just wanted to tell her about his life, couldn't he have done it after Rael's disk was used as needed? What did Oulis's precious irony have to do with anything now? There was nothing ironic about her current situation. She was going to this new planet to avenge the murder of a friend. Nothing even remotely ironic about that.
"From your face, I can tell you can't tell why I would call you here just to sit and blather on about irony," said Oulis, his head tipped downwards toward his chest, his eyes closed. "In answer, all I have to say is that your own situation is ironic, as is mine. At least, this is what I gather from the information given to me from Rael himself."
Lidge stopped herself from scoffing at his reply. "How so?" she asked, keeping her tone casual. The flower sat on her knee, smiling faintly up at her.
"I'm going to die, Lidge Tikem, and for that, I am grateful. It would ease the suffering of so many if I were simply to disappear into the unknown of death, even if it means Haveri would grieve for me. Although she will hurt, I know it will be better for her if I am gone." He paused. "She has had to see me suffer all of her life, and has been chained to me. She is a slave to my illness, as am I." A bitterness filled his voice. "I love Haveri more than I have ever loved another living soul. Seeing her pain, her fear for me, hurts far more than anything this... sickness has done do me. When I die, she will be free of all that pain and fear.
"It is because I love Haveri so that I have not sought treatment in recent months. My love for her has driven me to the wretched state you see me in within the confines of Irken reality. My love for her is compelling me bring about my death before my normal time. I love her so dearly, that I am letting go of her, of life, of reality." Shadows played over his face as the sun began to sink behind a particularly large hill. "That is the irony. That because I love her, I am letting her go. I love her too much to keep holding onto her. It will only hurt us more, in the end if I were to keep on going, to maintain my grip on life, on Haveri." He laughed. It had a chill, spectral sound to it. "How the thought terrifies me, Lidge Tikem. Do not think I am brave to so boldly launch into death. I tremble at the very thought of losing my consciousness. But... in comparison to the thought of Haveri's continued suffering..." he trailed off.
"I'm sorry..." was all Lidge could force out of her mouth.
He shook his head. "Don't apologize. We are in the same ship, Lidge Tikem. We both must decide to let go, in order to allow both ourselves and our loved ones to live. Ironic that, in order to show our love, we must let go."
When she looked at him, his eyes glowed in the simulated dusk. The light from the dying sun framed his body, giving him an ethereal look. Suddenly, "Adehal" actually seemed to fit the hacker.
"You don't know me, or my position, Oulis Jahks," Lidge said swiftly, standing. "Thank you for your concern, but I have an appointment to keep with a friend."
In her rush to leave, the flower rolled off her knee and landed on the ground. Oulis gingerly picked it back up, running his gloved fingers over the delicate yellow petals. His eyes were sorrowful. "Haveri will let you out," he murmured. "Reality waits for the unwary."
If the last bit connected to the rest of his sermon, Lidge missed the connection. There was a pull, a feeling of floating, and she was back in Oulis's dark apartment, staring into the kind eyes of Haveri. The device was in the female programmer's hands.
"I should have warned you," she said, blushing. "Teacher Jahks was in a bit of a philosophical mood today."
For a moment, Lidge just stared into Haveri's face, stunned by the youth that lurked behind the tired, harried appearance of the female. Was she even young enough to be alone, even if Oulis felt it best...? Had she even taken his name? Wobbling a bit, she stood, brushing a hand over her antennae. "Thank you, Haveri." She did her best to smile.
The female-no, the child blushed, hurrying away to her ailing teacher's side. She sat at a large console, her fast fingers typing away at the keyboard to give Oulis whatever care he required. A little song formed in her throat as she worked, presumably to soothe both teacher and student. Lidge heard Oulis stir, and the faintest strains of noise from unused vocal cords. She couldn't look at him. Not after their conversation in his virtual world. His computer-generated voice was monotone.
"Files will be ready when I call you. Should not be more than few days."
Lidge nodded numbly.
"Look at me."
Startled, she did as she was told. The shock of seeing his illness-decimated body almost made her pass out. It was almost painful. As she stared, taking in the wires, the monitors, the paleness, a small sob rose in her throat. She bit her lip as Oulis's eyes slid open, fixing her with a glare.
"Don't pity me. Go home. Explain to Min."
In her rush to leave, to get out of the oppressive place, to dive into Min's safe, healthy arms, Lidge failed to notice the pale yellow flower lying on Oulis's frail, open palm.
"You went to see who?"
"Don't laugh, Min!"
"I'm not laughing! I'm just surprised he's actually real." He hugged her closer with one arm. "Don't worry, Lidgers, the mean old hacker's locked up in his nest."
"Stop it." She sat up, leaning her elbows on the table. "You've heard those rumors about him, haven't you? How he's diseased, can't speak or see or even breathe without machines?" Her head leaned against her palms. "It's all true. Horribly, disgustingly true."
Min rubbed her neck, frowning. He distrusted anything that had to do with rumors. Taking after most mechanics, he had to see things with his own eyes, feel it with his hands, before he could ever consider it real. Even though Lidge's information came from her own experience, he was disinclined to believe even her unless he met Oulis Jahks himself. "It's okay Lidge..." he said, trying to be as soothing as possible. "You won't have to meet with him again. Long as no one else tries to hack West Jihi..."
"Yes," she agreed, nervously. Wondering vaguely how long her white lie would hold up, she took a long, shaking swallow of her ahki. It stung her throat. "Let's hope..."
All around them, the lights of the dance club flashed, shadows of Irkens dancing creating almost a strobe effect. Speakers poured out the best dance songs available. The floor was sticky with spilled drinks and spilled blood from drunken brawls. Here and there, a red uniform stuck out vibrantly against a background of more colorful Student clothing. High above them wound a series of intricate walkways, leading to alcoves, more walkways, or the roof where voots were parked.
The lights hurt her eyes, the walkways made her dizzy and the music hurt her antennae. Why Min had ever thought she'd enjoy this place, Lidge didn't know. Yet, the time in his arms, sipping her drink, was starting to heal the cracks her day had made. Maybe she shouldn't tell him tonight. Maybe she should wait until after the cursed rain had stopped and the sun had reemerged to dry the sodden planet. After all, it would be some time before Oulis Jahks contacted her. Those few days he had mentioned would give her plenty of time to tie up, what she felt were, the loose ends of her life. They would allow her to swiftly move Regert Shrig back into West Jihi without the other workers knowing before she wanted them to.
Workers were easy. Min was not.
How was she supposed to tell him? While younger than her, he still retained the air of the "protector" of the two, sheltering Lidge from all he could. She knew him better than that, however. Inside, he was still the unsure Min who was secretly the hero of Impending Doom I, and who still hated himself for allowing his precious Pira to come to such harm. The Min who tried so desperately to fail at being unlike his dead teacher. Having to lose her to some unknown planet in the boondocks of the universe might just possibly crack him beyond repair.
It would be better if she could come back. However, the meddling Oulis would be doing with the recording systems would be irreversible. It would put the Soldiers after both of them instantly if the notes on her "disappearance" Oulis had placed there were mysteriously removed after almost a year of them being there. For Lidge, there would be no coming back, no homecoming, no triumphant return from the enemy's base, nothing to signify the victory she always assured herself of having. She doubted she could even risk contacting anyone.
"I didn't bring you here to brood, y'know."
She looked up abruptly. "Oh... I'm not brooding," Lidge said, forcing a quick smile. "Just watching the dancing."
Min looked out over the dance floors, a slightly puzzled frown forming. "If you can call it dancing... That's some dirty stuff out there..."
"Probably why no one still with one's teacher is allowed in here. Not to mention the mass consumption of alcohol."
"Well, no sense wasting the opportunity!" He grabbed her hands, pulling her up from the seat and out onto the dance floor. Lidge had no time to protest. They were swiftly swept up in one of the faster steps, their robotic legs quickly escaping their back pods. The particular dance they were attempting required a great deal of movement. Eventually, it took them off the dance floor and across the various walkways built above the main floor. For hours, they danced away their cares, their fears, everything plaguing them. It all washed away in the wake of the music and the rhythm of their steps. Peace settled over them, unmarred by the previous thoughts of Lidge.
Unfortunately, the tranquility of the two lovers did not last long.
"You're doing what!?"
It was like he had hit her. Indeed, he looked as if he wanted to, his hands balled into thick powerful fists reminiscent of the Irken who had spurred such desire in Lidge so long ago. She couldn't speak. His anger was perceptible, even from this distance. She stood next to a covered voot cruiser in West Jihi's main repair hanger. It was at station four, Cerol's new position. Faintly, she could feel her hands clutching at the thick plastic sheet blanketing the cruiser from the miniscule dust particles that accumulated overnight. His back was to her now, his shoulders heaving as he tried to comprehend a choice he didn't want to understand. One of them would have to speak up, pierce the overwhelming silence in the huge room.
"I'm leaving..." Lidge found her voice. "As soon as Oulis Jahks calls... I'm leaving."
"Why?" he spat, disgusted. You didn't have to be Cerol Haye to read Min's black thoughts. All his mind was focused on the question. "Why... why would you? Why DO you even want to?"
She didn't respond. In the distance, the sound of the rain was drowned out by the roar of a thunderclap. Seconds passed and yellow light lit the sky. Neither of them spoke. He waited for her answer and she fought to find the right words for her swirling mass emotions. How could she tell him? How was she supposed to tell him the only reason she was leaving him was because she had to avenge the one Irken he swore he despised above all others? What would he say when he knew the truth behind it all? Behind the Uprisings? Behind her seemingly overwhelming thirst for vengeance?
And... how was she supposed to tell him she loved Jendai?
As it turned out, fate had a way of exacting its own vengeance. Min whirled on her, his gray eyes maniacal in the darkness. His gaze was so accusing, Lidge backed further into the covering.
"You loved him."
"Min... I..."
"You LOVED him!?" he exploded, clenching fists as if to block the truth from his heart. Looking ill, he sank to his knees, practically broken by this. "You... LOVED him?!"
She could only nod.
"And this whole time, all the time you said you loved me... you were LYING, Lidge! Lying to yourself! Lying to me!"
"I... I'm so sorry..."
He looked up at her. "How could you?"
Those words hit her harder than his first outburst. How could she? How could she have lied to him? How could she have put so many lives on the line for the sake of an Irken long since forgotten? How could she have pretended for so long? How could she have dared to have such audacity?
A sob escaped her throat. She took a shaking step towards him, wanting so badly to have his forgiveness, his understanding and his love once again. Her hand barely touched his shoulder and he was up, darting away from her like a wild thing, his eyes mad with inner pain. He stared at her, shocked that she had the nerve to try and touch him. "Min..." she whimpered. "I'm sorry! Please Min! I'm so sorry!"
"Sorry for what?" his voice rang out, taunting her. "Sorry for loving him? For lying to me? I loved you Lidge! I loved you and you... you betrayed me like this!" His face contorted up in a sneer. "Go on and run after his ghost. Because that's all you'll find on that Mother-forsaken planet. Ghosts. Ghosts of a wasted life. He never loved you, Lidge Tikem. You know that? He loved Leeri Olon! Never you! Grow up and get on with what's left of your life!"
He turned, walking out into the rain, never once looking back at her, hoping the rain would hide the tears on his face.
One never really got used to programmers. Programmers whose talents included hacking were especially odd.
Most hackers were caught quickly, or repelled by systems their fellow programmers had created. However, there were those of a special caliber who were never caught. They were always under suspicion, but there was never enough evidence to convict them of the crime. Whenever there was enough, some key fraction of it always managed to disappear, leaving the Soldiers baffled, and the programmer in question free to go about their business. It was rare that a hacker used their talent for anything horribly damaging to the populace of Irk. Most were hired by those who wanted to disappear, to change their name, registered height or to leave the planet without going through the mounds of paperwork regulations required.
Arriving at the residence of Oulis Jahks, Lidge was ushered quickly into a dimly lit room. Oulis had a center apartment, rather than an edge one, like she did. The lack of real windows suited the programmer, as sunlight made for horrid glare on the computer screens. The Irken she assumed was Oulis's student mutely led her through the apartment, leading her towards the back. She pulled back some curtains, leading Lidge into what appeared to be Oulis's work area, and then moved over to the barely visible chair in the center of the room.
A small light came on, illuminating only the area around the chair. Now Lidge could see Oulis Jahks himself.
He was skin and bones. Hollows stood out beneath his darkly circled eyes and his clothes hung on him like blankets. His skin was a pale, almost sickly, shade of green, blending in with his shirt, which was also a pale, undeterminable color. Like all programmers, two wires ran from his right temple and down into the surrounding computers, all of which hummed idly. However, unlike most programmers, Oulis had a third wire, coming from his left temple, as well as small circular disks implanted into the fabric of his gloves. More wires ran from these disks. Lidge wondered, vaguely, just what color his eyes were. She had met with him several times, but had never seen him with his eyes opened. Always he had been sitting in his chair, silent and still, while she spoke and his answers appeared on the computer screen nearest to her.
That was what the wires were for. They allowed the programmers to communicate directly with the mainframes of the machines they manipulated. It helped them in their jobs, as well as in their hacking. The better the programmer, the more willing the machine was to respond. Oulis was one of the best, and so computers hurried to comply with his will. If he wanted to speak with someone, his exact words were spelled out on the monitors. Oulis also worked from home, and some speculated he had been born without sight, hearing, smell, and even without the ability to speak. It was even said he had some incurable disease that had caused all his disabilities. No one, save his student, had ever been around him long enough to discern whether the rumors were true or not.
"You're early."
She jumped, glancing wildly at Oulis. His eyes were open a fraction, opaque, unseeing. Yet, somehow, she knew he could see her. One of the rumors was true, at least. "Y-yes," she stammered. "I am. I finished early at the workshop."
His eyes closed again. Speaking seemed to take a great deal of effort out of him. The student, Lidge thought her name was Haveri, was at his side almost instantly, putting a hand on his arm. Oulis moved his fingers almost imperceptibly and Haveri scurried out of the room, some purpose in mind. His next words were typed out, rather than spoken with his dull, half-dead voice. "Met Rael?" he asked, a programmed voice reading the words with a monotone drawl. "Gave you something? Yes?"
She nodded, holding out the small, insignificant-seeming disk. Almost instantly, a robotic arm descended from the ceiling, took the disk and then retracted back into the darkness above. Startled, Lidge felt her eyes drawn upwards. The gloom held her gaze long enough for Haveri to slip into the room, attend her teacher and then return to Lidge's side. The mechanic stared. Such a maneuver had to have been rehearsed, yet, the significance it failed to register with her. Haveri smiled at her. "It's hard for him to talk," she explained. "Even with a monitor's help. He... actually prefers to do it... with this."
As she spoke, Haveri held up a circular device. Lidge had seen few like it. It was the latest reality simulator. Only a few were actually available to the general public of Irk, as testing had not yet been completed. It fit snuggly over the head, with wires connecting down into the backpod and out into the main computer outlet source. Supposedly, it accurately recreated any programmed world down to the movement of the wind itself. Before Lidge could protest, Haveri had slipped the device over her head and attached the necessary wires to her backpod.
Almost instantly the world of Oulis's apartment snapped out of focus, allowing a new one to form before her eyes. It was a strange sensation. For a moment, she felt suspended, and then she was slammed down into this new world. Her head rang.
"Well. About time I could see you with my own eyes. At least... how I remember seeing."
Lidge blinked. All around her, for miles, stretched a sea of silvery-green plants. Each one seemed only to be a leaf, rising up towards a bright, sparkling sun. A slight breeze stirred the air, awaking movement in the little plants. Here and there, a cloud drifted, a flower spiked up above the plants, and a hill rolled gently up or down. There was not a building, nor a transport, in sight. A little frightened, she glanced around, looking for something familiar to reassure her, not to mention the owner of that voice.
"Don't be afraid," said the voice, coming from the plants a few feet away. "Nothing in here is designed for hurt. Only for comfort."
Not surprisingly, an Irken slowly rose from a reclined position. He was fairly good-looking, with kind, blue-green eyes. Bicolor eyes, to be exact. His uniform, that of a programmer, was wrinkled and covered in leaves from the small plants. Lidge blinked.
"Adehal."
"Lidge Tikem."
She smiled and approached him. "I like this place you've designed. Very calming indeed."
Oulis smirked himself. "It is how Irk used to look... long before Irkens became advanced enough to expand their cities, to spread their technology to engulf the entire planet in its iron grasp." His voice was pleasantly deep, his speech slow and stirring.
"That's interesting," she said, sitting beside him. "coming from a programmer whose life depends on Irken technology."
For a moment, Oulis was silent and Lidge wondered if he'd heard her. Maybe there was a slight system malfunction. A breeze kicked up, sending flower petals spiraling through the warm air. At length, he spoke.
"That, my friend, is irony."
Another long moment of silence passed. Lidge was unsure whether he expected a response or not. Uncertainty was usually a better choice than insolence when dealing with a hacker called "God" in Old Irken. She looked out over the rolling expanse of little plants, deciding it was better to focus her gaze on the terrain, rather than Oulis. There was a sparkle in the distance that had to be water. If she was allowed time, a tour of her host's virtual world would be welcomed.
"One would assume," he began, choosing his words slowly and carefully. "that a smeet raised into the role of a computer programmer would have no ill words to speak towards the technology of their race. One would also assume that an Irken with the hack handle, 'Adehal' would have limitless power."
He paused, examining a bright yellow flower beside his boot toe.
"And yet, I sit before you, a programmer who blatantly denounces the usefulness and wonder of Irken technology. I sit before you, Lidge Tikem, with the name of 'Adehal', and I am alive only because a machine recreates all the functions of a normal, healthy Irken body for me. I am a God who is alive only because of the technology he despises with all his being. Irony."
With an angry twist, the yellow flower was pulled from its roots. Oulis stared at it, seeming surprised, and then handed it to Lidge. She accepted it wordlessly. The question she felt at the back of her mind seemed to be fairly obvious, and thus she hesitated asking him.
"Why do you hate technology, O-Adehal?" she murmured.
"You would hate mechanical work too, if every time you turned around, your head was shoved into a voot cruiser," Oulis replied quickly, a harsh edge to his voice that destroyed his usual tones of speech. It made Lidge flinch. Noticing it, Oulis elaborated. "My teacher, unfortunately, lacked adequate teaching skills. To her, the best way for me to learn my trade was to jam the wires that are strung through a programmer's brain into any wall outlet possible. She thought it was even better to... surprise me." He flashed a sardonic smile. "Needless to say, such experiences soured me on the equipment which I was to work with. I had to make several unscheduled visits to the med centers for cerebral damage." He blew a leaf off his glove. "I suppose that so much damage is responsible for the way I live now..." A sigh. "A teacher is supposed to teach so the student can live their life. My teacher taught... and because of it, I am dying. More irony."
Now Lidge was struggling to figure out why Oulis had even desired to speak with her. If he had just wanted to tell her about his life, couldn't he have done it after Rael's disk was used as needed? What did Oulis's precious irony have to do with anything now? There was nothing ironic about her current situation. She was going to this new planet to avenge the murder of a friend. Nothing even remotely ironic about that.
"From your face, I can tell you can't tell why I would call you here just to sit and blather on about irony," said Oulis, his head tipped downwards toward his chest, his eyes closed. "In answer, all I have to say is that your own situation is ironic, as is mine. At least, this is what I gather from the information given to me from Rael himself."
Lidge stopped herself from scoffing at his reply. "How so?" she asked, keeping her tone casual. The flower sat on her knee, smiling faintly up at her.
"I'm going to die, Lidge Tikem, and for that, I am grateful. It would ease the suffering of so many if I were simply to disappear into the unknown of death, even if it means Haveri would grieve for me. Although she will hurt, I know it will be better for her if I am gone." He paused. "She has had to see me suffer all of her life, and has been chained to me. She is a slave to my illness, as am I." A bitterness filled his voice. "I love Haveri more than I have ever loved another living soul. Seeing her pain, her fear for me, hurts far more than anything this... sickness has done do me. When I die, she will be free of all that pain and fear.
"It is because I love Haveri so that I have not sought treatment in recent months. My love for her has driven me to the wretched state you see me in within the confines of Irken reality. My love for her is compelling me bring about my death before my normal time. I love her so dearly, that I am letting go of her, of life, of reality." Shadows played over his face as the sun began to sink behind a particularly large hill. "That is the irony. That because I love her, I am letting her go. I love her too much to keep holding onto her. It will only hurt us more, in the end if I were to keep on going, to maintain my grip on life, on Haveri." He laughed. It had a chill, spectral sound to it. "How the thought terrifies me, Lidge Tikem. Do not think I am brave to so boldly launch into death. I tremble at the very thought of losing my consciousness. But... in comparison to the thought of Haveri's continued suffering..." he trailed off.
"I'm sorry..." was all Lidge could force out of her mouth.
He shook his head. "Don't apologize. We are in the same ship, Lidge Tikem. We both must decide to let go, in order to allow both ourselves and our loved ones to live. Ironic that, in order to show our love, we must let go."
When she looked at him, his eyes glowed in the simulated dusk. The light from the dying sun framed his body, giving him an ethereal look. Suddenly, "Adehal" actually seemed to fit the hacker.
"You don't know me, or my position, Oulis Jahks," Lidge said swiftly, standing. "Thank you for your concern, but I have an appointment to keep with a friend."
In her rush to leave, the flower rolled off her knee and landed on the ground. Oulis gingerly picked it back up, running his gloved fingers over the delicate yellow petals. His eyes were sorrowful. "Haveri will let you out," he murmured. "Reality waits for the unwary."
If the last bit connected to the rest of his sermon, Lidge missed the connection. There was a pull, a feeling of floating, and she was back in Oulis's dark apartment, staring into the kind eyes of Haveri. The device was in the female programmer's hands.
"I should have warned you," she said, blushing. "Teacher Jahks was in a bit of a philosophical mood today."
For a moment, Lidge just stared into Haveri's face, stunned by the youth that lurked behind the tired, harried appearance of the female. Was she even young enough to be alone, even if Oulis felt it best...? Had she even taken his name? Wobbling a bit, she stood, brushing a hand over her antennae. "Thank you, Haveri." She did her best to smile.
The female-no, the child blushed, hurrying away to her ailing teacher's side. She sat at a large console, her fast fingers typing away at the keyboard to give Oulis whatever care he required. A little song formed in her throat as she worked, presumably to soothe both teacher and student. Lidge heard Oulis stir, and the faintest strains of noise from unused vocal cords. She couldn't look at him. Not after their conversation in his virtual world. His computer-generated voice was monotone.
"Files will be ready when I call you. Should not be more than few days."
Lidge nodded numbly.
"Look at me."
Startled, she did as she was told. The shock of seeing his illness-decimated body almost made her pass out. It was almost painful. As she stared, taking in the wires, the monitors, the paleness, a small sob rose in her throat. She bit her lip as Oulis's eyes slid open, fixing her with a glare.
"Don't pity me. Go home. Explain to Min."
In her rush to leave, to get out of the oppressive place, to dive into Min's safe, healthy arms, Lidge failed to notice the pale yellow flower lying on Oulis's frail, open palm.
"You went to see who?"
"Don't laugh, Min!"
"I'm not laughing! I'm just surprised he's actually real." He hugged her closer with one arm. "Don't worry, Lidgers, the mean old hacker's locked up in his nest."
"Stop it." She sat up, leaning her elbows on the table. "You've heard those rumors about him, haven't you? How he's diseased, can't speak or see or even breathe without machines?" Her head leaned against her palms. "It's all true. Horribly, disgustingly true."
Min rubbed her neck, frowning. He distrusted anything that had to do with rumors. Taking after most mechanics, he had to see things with his own eyes, feel it with his hands, before he could ever consider it real. Even though Lidge's information came from her own experience, he was disinclined to believe even her unless he met Oulis Jahks himself. "It's okay Lidge..." he said, trying to be as soothing as possible. "You won't have to meet with him again. Long as no one else tries to hack West Jihi..."
"Yes," she agreed, nervously. Wondering vaguely how long her white lie would hold up, she took a long, shaking swallow of her ahki. It stung her throat. "Let's hope..."
All around them, the lights of the dance club flashed, shadows of Irkens dancing creating almost a strobe effect. Speakers poured out the best dance songs available. The floor was sticky with spilled drinks and spilled blood from drunken brawls. Here and there, a red uniform stuck out vibrantly against a background of more colorful Student clothing. High above them wound a series of intricate walkways, leading to alcoves, more walkways, or the roof where voots were parked.
The lights hurt her eyes, the walkways made her dizzy and the music hurt her antennae. Why Min had ever thought she'd enjoy this place, Lidge didn't know. Yet, the time in his arms, sipping her drink, was starting to heal the cracks her day had made. Maybe she shouldn't tell him tonight. Maybe she should wait until after the cursed rain had stopped and the sun had reemerged to dry the sodden planet. After all, it would be some time before Oulis Jahks contacted her. Those few days he had mentioned would give her plenty of time to tie up, what she felt were, the loose ends of her life. They would allow her to swiftly move Regert Shrig back into West Jihi without the other workers knowing before she wanted them to.
Workers were easy. Min was not.
How was she supposed to tell him? While younger than her, he still retained the air of the "protector" of the two, sheltering Lidge from all he could. She knew him better than that, however. Inside, he was still the unsure Min who was secretly the hero of Impending Doom I, and who still hated himself for allowing his precious Pira to come to such harm. The Min who tried so desperately to fail at being unlike his dead teacher. Having to lose her to some unknown planet in the boondocks of the universe might just possibly crack him beyond repair.
It would be better if she could come back. However, the meddling Oulis would be doing with the recording systems would be irreversible. It would put the Soldiers after both of them instantly if the notes on her "disappearance" Oulis had placed there were mysteriously removed after almost a year of them being there. For Lidge, there would be no coming back, no homecoming, no triumphant return from the enemy's base, nothing to signify the victory she always assured herself of having. She doubted she could even risk contacting anyone.
"I didn't bring you here to brood, y'know."
She looked up abruptly. "Oh... I'm not brooding," Lidge said, forcing a quick smile. "Just watching the dancing."
Min looked out over the dance floors, a slightly puzzled frown forming. "If you can call it dancing... That's some dirty stuff out there..."
"Probably why no one still with one's teacher is allowed in here. Not to mention the mass consumption of alcohol."
"Well, no sense wasting the opportunity!" He grabbed her hands, pulling her up from the seat and out onto the dance floor. Lidge had no time to protest. They were swiftly swept up in one of the faster steps, their robotic legs quickly escaping their back pods. The particular dance they were attempting required a great deal of movement. Eventually, it took them off the dance floor and across the various walkways built above the main floor. For hours, they danced away their cares, their fears, everything plaguing them. It all washed away in the wake of the music and the rhythm of their steps. Peace settled over them, unmarred by the previous thoughts of Lidge.
Unfortunately, the tranquility of the two lovers did not last long.
"You're doing what!?"
It was like he had hit her. Indeed, he looked as if he wanted to, his hands balled into thick powerful fists reminiscent of the Irken who had spurred such desire in Lidge so long ago. She couldn't speak. His anger was perceptible, even from this distance. She stood next to a covered voot cruiser in West Jihi's main repair hanger. It was at station four, Cerol's new position. Faintly, she could feel her hands clutching at the thick plastic sheet blanketing the cruiser from the miniscule dust particles that accumulated overnight. His back was to her now, his shoulders heaving as he tried to comprehend a choice he didn't want to understand. One of them would have to speak up, pierce the overwhelming silence in the huge room.
"I'm leaving..." Lidge found her voice. "As soon as Oulis Jahks calls... I'm leaving."
"Why?" he spat, disgusted. You didn't have to be Cerol Haye to read Min's black thoughts. All his mind was focused on the question. "Why... why would you? Why DO you even want to?"
She didn't respond. In the distance, the sound of the rain was drowned out by the roar of a thunderclap. Seconds passed and yellow light lit the sky. Neither of them spoke. He waited for her answer and she fought to find the right words for her swirling mass emotions. How could she tell him? How was she supposed to tell him the only reason she was leaving him was because she had to avenge the one Irken he swore he despised above all others? What would he say when he knew the truth behind it all? Behind the Uprisings? Behind her seemingly overwhelming thirst for vengeance?
And... how was she supposed to tell him she loved Jendai?
As it turned out, fate had a way of exacting its own vengeance. Min whirled on her, his gray eyes maniacal in the darkness. His gaze was so accusing, Lidge backed further into the covering.
"You loved him."
"Min... I..."
"You LOVED him!?" he exploded, clenching fists as if to block the truth from his heart. Looking ill, he sank to his knees, practically broken by this. "You... LOVED him?!"
She could only nod.
"And this whole time, all the time you said you loved me... you were LYING, Lidge! Lying to yourself! Lying to me!"
"I... I'm so sorry..."
He looked up at her. "How could you?"
Those words hit her harder than his first outburst. How could she? How could she have lied to him? How could she have put so many lives on the line for the sake of an Irken long since forgotten? How could she have pretended for so long? How could she have dared to have such audacity?
A sob escaped her throat. She took a shaking step towards him, wanting so badly to have his forgiveness, his understanding and his love once again. Her hand barely touched his shoulder and he was up, darting away from her like a wild thing, his eyes mad with inner pain. He stared at her, shocked that she had the nerve to try and touch him. "Min..." she whimpered. "I'm sorry! Please Min! I'm so sorry!"
"Sorry for what?" his voice rang out, taunting her. "Sorry for loving him? For lying to me? I loved you Lidge! I loved you and you... you betrayed me like this!" His face contorted up in a sneer. "Go on and run after his ghost. Because that's all you'll find on that Mother-forsaken planet. Ghosts. Ghosts of a wasted life. He never loved you, Lidge Tikem. You know that? He loved Leeri Olon! Never you! Grow up and get on with what's left of your life!"
He turned, walking out into the rain, never once looking back at her, hoping the rain would hide the tears on his face.