A small wander round the post Factory world of STN – spoilers!
Don't own it – write to show my appreciation of it
Degrees of Freedom
Flame always Burning
It was maybe the worst two weeks of the entire ordeal. After the fall of the Factory, after the desperate escape, after crawling for what felt like miles with dust in his throat and his lungs burning. After dragging his friend with him, after being surrounded by armed men for the second time in his life. After finding the best in himself, he was forced to come to terms with the worst around him.
She was gone. That much was certain. Gone, and Him with her. Amon; her killer, her saviour, her Hunter, her guard, her Sun God. Leaving him behind, wherever they had gone. But that was no surprise. Michael knew he could not have saved her from Solomon's demons. He could not kill, he did not know how. Well, that was not strictly true, he knew how, he knew the theory of it, how to aim, how to shoot, he just did not think he could do it. Not for real anyway, not in cold blood. He was sure they would be OK, after all, Amon knew how to protect, and Michael, well he had ways and means, put into operation as soon as he returned to his computer, as soon as it was known who was missing.
"They are dead. I'm sure they are. After all, no-one saw them leave, and how could they have possibly survived something like that?" Doujima almost shouted at the Chief
"After all, we all left differently and no-one saw a thing. There has been no trace of them across the city, I'm sure we would have heard" Karasuma glanced over at Michael
"Has there been any sighting?"
"No, Miss. Karasuma, nothing on any of the systems, nothing from the police"
It was not a complete lie, after all, there had been no sightings. How much that was fact and how much was Michael's "precautions" removing any trace of the couple, however, was open to conjecture.
"So what do you think?" Karasuma again addressed the hacker
"I think they're probably dead. The explosion was so severe and..." he trailed off
That was a barefaced lie. He believed from the bottom of his heart that they were not dead. He felt it, he had been closer to Robin than any of the others, even Him. Michael had seen Robin exposed, as she poured her heartfelt fear and grief out to him, with only a stone wall separating them. He felt a connection to her, very deep down inside his soul, in a place he seldom acknowledged. He was so sure that there would be some feeling if she were truly dead. If she was not dead, however, she was certainly still wanted, and exposure would mean death if death had not already come. So, as with so many other things, he kept his counsel, not wanting to inadvertently expose the fugitives.
There was also the matter of the letter, sitting on Robin's old desk when he returned after the incident. Where it came from, he had no idea. Inside a lovely think, expensive envelope had been a small scrap of notepaper with a message scrawled on it
"psalmus David Dominus reget me et nihil mihi deerit
in loco pascuae ibi me conlocavit super aquam refectionis educavit me
animam meam convertit deduxit me super semitas iustitiae propter nomen suum
nam et si ambulavero in medio umbrae mortis non timebo mala quoniam tu mecum es virga tua et baculus tuus ipsa me consolata sunt
parasti in conspectu meo mensam adversus eos qui tribulant me inpinguasti in oleo caput meum et calix meus inebrians quam praeclarus est
et misericordia tua subsequitur me omnibus diebus vitae meae et ut inhabitem in domo Domini in longitudinem dierum
Flame always burning"
The fourth verse had been sloppily underlined.
It took Michael the whole two weeks to establish what the note meant in English. He was definitely slipping, distracted by events, by unwelcome thoughts. What would become of him now that Zaizen was really gone? He had fallen back into his old life once every STNJ member had been delivered back to Raven's Flat after the incident. But now that life was even more hollow and meaningless than it had been before. His old memories, dulled by years of imprisonment and virtual reality, had been triggered again by stepping outside. Maybe it was his way of processing the trauma of the Factory, or maybe his brain was just torturing him, but whatever, when he had flashbacks, they were flashbacks of the outside. Not the guns, the shouting, the fear, the men. No, instead he heard distant birdsong, sweet and clear over the bass roar of collapsing masonry. Or smelt the smell of trees and grass, pungent above the stench of burning. Worse was the vivid sense of the fresh air on his skin, the gentle caress of the wind over his dust-caked face. He was sure he had not felt those sensations at the time, but maybe he was still working through what he had felt. One thing was certain, it was torture. Not knowing what was going to happen to him, wondering whether he had done enough to gain his freedom or whether he had done too much, making it easier for them to keep him, use him, than to take a risk and release him.
The feelings building inside him, his inability to sleep, his anger and fear, burst free eventually. Unable to take the pent up energy any more, he let loose like a summer storm, fist pounding on his desk so hard he heard plastic crack and felt pain shoot up his arm. He was just about to follow it up with a mug through his monitor, he had even picked the mug up, when a bleep from the computer distracted him, breaking his mood as quickly as it had built. His translator algorithm, processing the message through thousands of Roman alphabet languages, searching for matches. He had almost forgotten about it, it had taken so long. But there, line by line, the cursor was printing results
"MATCH FOUND
COMMENCING OUTPUT...
the lord is my shepherd i shall not want he makes me lie down in green pastures he leads me beside still waters he restores my soul he leads me in paths of righteousness for his names sake even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death i will fear no evil for you are with me your rod and your staff they comfort me you prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies you anoint my head with oil my cup overflows surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I shall dwell in the house of the lord forever.
PROCESS COMPLETE
1209689 seconds
parameters LATIN-English
output saved to c:\docume1\HTD\mydoc1\trnsltr\output1.txt
PERFORM NEW PROCESS Y/N"
Latin! Of course. That was why it had taken so long, every Roman alphabet language has Latin roots, and he had specified modern languages first, assuming deep down that the language was Italian. He stared at output for a while, trying to make sense of it. Again, as though hit by a thunderbolt, inspiration struck, a distant memory stirred and he began scrolling through the file, rearranging and punctuating as he went
"the lord is my shepherd i shall not want
he makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters
he restores my soul he leads me in paths of righteousness for his names sake.
even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death i will fear no evil for you are with me your rod and your staff they comfort me
you prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies
you anoint my head with oil my cup overflows
surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I shall dwell in the house of the lord forever."
He was now so sure it was a message from Robin, that she had walked through the valley of the shadow of death and had come out the other side. Of course, there was no proof, but something had brought this message, it had some relevance. He hid it from the others, no point aggravating healing wounds and risking safety. He read it through one more time, before settling down to check his procedures, to ensure that the safeguards were still in place.
As the status screen came up green, he heard footsteps in front of his desk
"Michael, please come with me"
Glancing up, Michael saw the bald head of the Chief looking down at him. The face below the shining scalp was solemn, and Michael was certain that a decision regarding his future had been made. Rising slowly, he took one last look at the verse
"even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death i will fear no evil"
That was from Robin for him, he was sure. Whatever happened now, he had done his best by her and that was all that mattered.
He walked forwards into the office in the corner, and took a seat meekly, calming his fluttering nerves.