Author: Synthera
Author's Note: Another plot bunny from NWP inspired this. I swear every time I turn around there is one sitting there saying "Write me!" really, I swear.
"Max! Max! Come quick!" Sean, a young X8 with a cap of unruly red curls shouted hurriedly as he ran into Terminal City's command center. "There's fire!"
Max shot up from her chair knocking it to the ground, splintering the last already worn arm. She vaulted over her desk swirling papers to the ground, following the transgenic that was already blurring back to the disaster site. Mole and Alec were closely on her heels having heard the shouted report.
The small group ran quickly to the outside of the building to the fire escape where curiously the small soldier was lifting himself up hand over hand. The rungs making a metallic clang as each soldier's hand or foot passed over it. Again Max wished they had the resources to fix the rotted out stairwell inside the building.
Almost breathless with adrenaline when the reached the top Max searched the city, using her enhanced vision to locate the source of Sean's distress. "Where is it? Sean" She put her hand on his shoulder and looked at him "Where's the fire?" then she followed his gaze to the sky.
In the air brilliant burst of red and gold and green blossomed followed by a thunderous boom. They faded away to be replaced with purples and pink. Max smiled reassuringly at the boy. "Sean, that's not fire."
"It's not?" He asked fear still written on his face. Max looked at him and saw him for what he was. He was a six year old soldier who had probably never left Manticore while he was there. Nobody had probably taken time to teach him any of the Ordinaries' customs yet.
"It's not." She soothed. "It's fireworks." He was still puzzled. "They are like flares. Ordinaries use them to celebrate." She elaborated.
"Celebrate what Ma'am?" Sean asked distracted by the ever-changing colors. Max overlooked that he'd called her ma'am this once. She usually tried to discourage the others from doing so.
"Well, it is July fourth Sean. The ordinaries celebrate their freedom every year with fireworks." She explained.
"Funny how the country is dirt poor, Seattle doesn't even have a bus system anymore but yet they can have fireworks every year huh?" Alec said sarcastically.
"Waste of good gunpowder if you ask me." Mole grumbled.
Slowly the older transgenics drifted down the fire escape leaving Sean staring thoughtfully at the sky.
It made sense to him, that they should celebrate their freedom with fire, after all, wasn't that how the transgenics had earned theirs? Maybe they weren't so different after all. He waited until the last of the sparks faded from the sky and made his way down to command. Maybe he could convince Mole to give up some of his gunpowder.
The End
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