Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine.
Chapter 19
"Nysa," Styx greeted, genuinely surprised to see her. He hadn't spoken with her since the night Olivia died, hadn't seen or heard anything of her. He had gone to Livi's memorial service, mostly for Michael, and hoped that she'd be there, but no such luck. Not knowing her well he couldn't anticipate how she might handle something so awful as the death of a friend; he only hoped she would make it through. Seeing her stand before him, he felt a weight lift from his mind and he suddenly realized just how much he had been missing this virtual stranger for the last week.
"Can we come in?" she asked somewhat sheepishly. We? He hadn't even noticed the man standing behind her, the man easily recognizable to any citizen of Zion. Neo. He opened the door, beckoning them to come in.
"This is my dad," she said, indicating behind her with a flippant gesture. Nysa had tried to convince Neo that she could handle this on her own, that it would be better, certainly easier, if she went without him to see Styx. He of course would have none of it. The two entered the small apartment but remained just in front of the door as though the need to flee might be a real possibility. It wasn't until he noticed the look on Styx' face, one of clear concern coupled with relief, as he looked at Nysa that Neo realized where he recognized this boy from. He had been the one dancing with his daughter in the Temple.
"You were at the gathering," he said suddenly, looking first at Styx then glancing sidelong at his daughter.
"Yeah…yes. I was."
"I didn't think staunch supporters of the resistance usually came to those things."
"They don't…well, I don't, some people do. Actually a lot of our supporters still follow the way of the Temple."
"You?"
He laughed slightly before answering. "No."
"Then why were you there?"
"Dad," Nysa interrupted, chiding.
"I'm just curious what a rebel sympathizer who doesn't follow the Temple would be doing at a Temple gathering. It's a legitimate question don't you think Styx?"
He straightened his back enabling him to stand a little taller so that his height almost equaled Neo's. Though he was obviously nervous, even a bit frightened at the prospect of being interrogated by this man, he was able to maintain his composure and act an adult. "Michael asked me to go. He came to see me speak at a rally earlier that day, so I thought I owed him."
Nysa shifted her weight, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. These were not the answers she wanted. Who cared why he came to the gathering? She remembered the two of them dancing there, remembered the way he smelled, his sweat, his skin, his hair. She remembered how easily she had fallen into him, how their bodies seemed to fit perfectly like the jagged bits of a jigsaw puzzle. She remembered how being near him made her feel, light, airy, free. But all of those memories seemed to be washed away by Livi's blood, the warm crimson tide that she could still feel pouring through her fingertips, forever staining her hands.
"Do you know who killed Olivia?" she asked pointedly. Both sets of eyes turned to her and she glanced about meeting both gazes.
Styx, though startled by her bluntness at first, quickly realized that she was here for the truth and nothing more. He had spent everyday thinking about her, couldn't get her out of his mind, and while he naturally realized she had other things to be concerned with, he had still hoped that she had been thinking of him as well. Her grief had brought her to him, just as he hoped, but not in the way he desired. But what did it matter what he wanted anyway? She had been through enough, too much, and he would give her whatever she wanted and needed from him.
"No," he said softly, looking into her swollen red eyes. How long had she cried? How many tears had she shed out of grief and frustration? He held her gaze for the longest of moments and fought the urge to touch her face, brush away her hair, pull her into an all-encompassing embrace.
"What happened?" Neo asked. Though he was still standing right in front of him, his voice sounded a million miles away, foreign, disembodied, and it took him a moment to realize he had spoken at all. Styx turned to him dumbly. "What do you remember about that night?" he urged gently.
For a moment he wanted to laugh. What he remembered most was the heat that permeated his body every time their flesh met, the feel of the steady rhythm of her heartbeat as he held her close to his chest. But he couldn't say this to her father.
"I…we…were dancing. Michael and Olivia were too. Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me away; Nysa fell, kind of stumbled back and he caught her. He had a knife and…" He looked at Nysa who was following intently, looked at her with a sadness in his eyes. Did she know she was the one meant to die, not Livi? Did she know it was his fault things happened the way they did? "I kicked him, in the back of the leg. He tried to steady himself and let go of you, but, it was like he realized too late that you weren't there. He stabbed Olivia. When he got up, I hit him, but there were so many people and I slipped in the mud and he just took off, I didn't see where to."
"Did you recognize him? Anything about him?"
"No. I'd never seen him at any of the rallies or anything, if that's what you're thinking. If he was one of us, he wasn't really one of us."
"He wasn't one of us at all." The voice came from behind, a tall man lingering in the dark, standing in the doorway.
"King," Styx acknowledged. The man entered the room, moving into the light and gave a cursory look towards the two intruders.
"You're King?" Neo asked. "The leader of the New Resistance?"
He didn't exactly look the part. He was pushing fifty and his cropped dark hair was already speckled with gray and vanishing along his brow. Though he was tall, standing nearly 6'5, he was not all that imposing, having more lank than bulk, and his shoulders tended to droop as though he carried a heavy burden that could not be lifted.
"I knew him, knew of him. He was a toad." King went on, ignoring Neo's inquiry, seemingly ignoring him all together and turning his attention instead on Nysa. "He got something out of it, that's for sure. That man didn't give a damn about anyone but himself. He didn't want to kill you, he just wanted what they promised him."
"What was that?" she asked.
"Freedom."
She gave him an odd look, one of confusion and denial. Styx was the one who interjected though. "What do you mean? Freedom from what?"
"Does it matter?" King paused and turned to Neo. "You're a freedom fighter. More than that you were once enslaved, we all were." He glanced quickly back at Nysa before going on. "Well, not all of us."
"What specifically did they promise him?" Neo pressed. "And who is they?"
"Specifically, I don't know. And they are just who you'd think they'd be."
"The resistance," he responded somewhat confused. King only shook his head, no. "Not the Council," he said, though it was clearly more of a question.
"Do you know the story of Achilles?" King asked, looking first to Neo, then Nysa. Both nodded affirmatively, but he chose to go on none the less. "Achilles was a great warrior, feared and respected by all. He was one of the most powerful men in all of Greece and when his King called on him to aid in the war against Troy he rose to the challenge. Troy too had a valiant warrior in Hector, and though the Trojans had heard of Achilles' deeds, they were confident in their hero. When the two finally fought it seemed a fair match, a good fight, but Achilles was favored by the Gods and won."
"He didn't win because he was favored by the Gods," Nysa interrupted. "He won because he was consumed with vengeance after Hector killed his cousin."
King smiled broadly and looked at Neo. "You taught you're daughter well. So many people forget about the classics now. They think they're somehow irrelevant."
"They survived for thousands of years before the machines took over, why shouldn't they live on for thousands more?" he replied.
"Exactly. Their message is always relevant." He paused and turned back to Nysa, still smiling. "Vengeance is one of the most powerful driving forces known to man. Maybe that is why he won. Maybe not. That's not really the point. The point is that neither of those men had anything to do with the initial dispute. Oh sure Hector took his brother's side when he decided to steal Helen, but who would have thought that a woman leaving, even being taken from her husband, would result in a war in the first place. And he did try to amend things, compromise so as to prevent war. And Achilles, he didn't care about Helen of Sparta or Agamemnon's desire for sovereignty over that section of the world. None of it mattered to him. They were two men fighting to the death on behalf of others, fighting someone else's battles with their own fists. And which side was right to begin with? The one that stole a woman from her home luring her with vane promises from the Gods of love? Or the one defending the honor of a wronged man while also desiring to take over a land for political might? An argument could made either way, but in the end no one could really say that one side was any more righteous than another."
"So this story is applicable to our situation because an argument could made for either side, just as one could be for our impending war."
"Or any war really. But no, this isn't about the moral ambiguity of conflict. It's about how one person can cause an entire people to either have or lose faith. Those who believed in Hector were horrified when their hero fell and thought it was the end of them all. And those who were on the side of Achilles knew that they would come out victorious, whether because he was favored by the Gods or simply because he was more powerful all on his own. When you're the chosen one you must learn to live with being both loved and hated, worshiped and plotted against." He looked Neo in the eye, spoke these words directly to him, and then turned and spoke to Nysa.
"All it takes for something to be true is for enough people to believe it. You are your father's daughter, or so certain people believe. The difference is that his battle was with the machines, all of Zion supported him. Now the threat is not so simple, there is a different us and a different them, and no one is entirely sure who's side you'll play hero for."
"Who says I will for either?" she asked perplexed, traces of anger in her voice.
"Fate," he said simply. "Those who trust fate may leave you be, realizing that whatever will happen is meant to happen."
"Then who wants me dead? If neither side knows who I'll fight for, wouldn't it be stupid to kill me? I mean what if I'm supposed to help them?"
"I said no one knows. Doesn't mean there aren't people out there who believe you're against them, or will be."
"Who?" Neo asked urgently.
"I already answered that."
"No you didn't."
"I said it was just who you thought it was."
"Someone wants to kill my daughter and instead of helping you're playing fucking mind games?"
King turned to walk away, which was no surprise to Styx. He knew that when confronted with anger the man tended to simply turn his back. As he walked away he threw only a few parting words over his shoulder. "Ask your oracle."