Published September 29, 2015
"Heaven On Their Minds"
"Human beings can't see anything without wanting to destroy it, Lyra. That's original sin. And I'm going to destroy it. Death is going to die."
"Is that why they put you here?"
"Yes. They are terrified. And with good reason."
He stood up, and so did his dæmon, proud and beautiful and deadly. Lyra sat still. She was afraid of her father, and she admired him profoundly, and she thought he was stark mad; but who was she to judge?
~ Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass
The Equalists have been carrying out vigilante justice for years, mostly underneath the police's radar. They usually sabotage triad operations and defend nonbenders targeted for extortion. Thus, Korra's first several missions consist of reconnaissance carried out in plainclothes during the day. She and others gather information to add to the Equalists' ever-changing, ever-expanding network of knowledge: where the triads draw their lines of territory; which businesses and individuals cooperate with the gangsters, whether on friendly or hostile terms; and which individuals are in danger. It is important work, even if it feels mundane; but the most maddening part is not being able to step in when she actually sees gangsters threatening people. In public, in daylight, they have to leave intervention to the police.
But at night, the rules are different.
Shortly after the double date, Korra finally graduates to nocturnal missions, in uniform, in the field. A seamstress helps alter a factory-made uniform to fit her comfortably. She feels a little silly at first, but also strangely powerful, like a ninja in the old stories.
The night of her first mission, she changes into the buglike uniform and reports to the Lieutenant whose name she can never remember, along with three other Equalists. Korra does not know who they are; anonymity between comrades is safer, in case any of them are caught and asked to identify other Equalists.
The Lieutenant briefs them. "The Terra Triad has not received their 'insurance' money from Kong's Bakery. The deadline was today, but they didn't come. We want eyes on every entrance to the bakery and the apartment above it."
It is a small task, at least in comparison with the kind of plans Amon is making for the city's future, but Korra has to start somewhere.
She ends up perched on the fire escape, where she can see the windows and side door of the bakery. Another Equalist is on the other side, while two others are on the roof, watching the back and front of the building.
Korra stays quiet, but inside she is full of excitement, thirsty for action and a chance to prove herself. For a long while she sits with tense muscles, ready to jump down from the landing and burst into action. Every time a car's headlights pass by she thinks, This could be it. But after about half an hour she relaxes, accepting that this might take a while.
After several hours of listening to the usual sounds of nighttime in Republic City, Korra begins to think this might be no more interesting than recon. In fact, it is more boring, since she can usually pretend to be shopping or doing some errand while scouting an area; here she can only sit and wait in the darkness. She can't even talk to the other three Equalists as they sit perched on the roof, the back of the building, and side opposite of Korra. It is good that she is a night owl anyway, or else she would be likely to fall asleep, it's so late …
It is after midnight when the Equalist on the front-side roof makes a sound like a owl's hoot to get their attention.
They are coming.
This is it.
Korra jumps soundlessly down to the ground, and peers around the corner of the building. In the light from the streetlamps, she can recognize a couple of the thugs whose mug shots and records she studied during her training. They are walking, with no noisy vehicle to announce their arrival. One of the Equalists from the roof comes down the fire escape and stands behind Korra. Then he—or she—passes her something: a bola. Time to see if all those practice throws were worth it.
The Terra Triad gangsters cry out when they feel the impact at their ankles and lose their balance, then grunt when they hit the ground. "What was that?"
"I dunno!"
"Durn booby trap!" One of them raises his voice, and is actually getting back up, apparently having cut himself free. "You wanta mess with us, Kong? Then you asked for this!" He stomps on the paved road, and is just pulling back when the four Equalists spring out of the darkness on each side of the bakery.
The thugs they tripped up manage to break through the bola's bonds with pieces of pavement that they bend into sharp edges. There are three gangsters and four Equalists, so two of Korra's colleagues tackle the biggest one while she and the other each fight one-on-one.
Fighting—truly fighting, not sparring or simulating a battle—feels both familiar and foreign. Korra has stood her ground against bullies who used bending, but their intentions were usually to show off or scare, sometimes to hurt, never to kill. But this earthbender levitates blocks the size of her head, and aims them directly at her masked face; only her practiced nimbleness saves her from a concussion, or instant death.
As she dodges and moves in closer, something about her mindset changes—maybe it is instinct taking over; somehow she knows how to react to one move and anticipate the next one; she knows how to reach in and jab her attacker's limbs, cutting off his earthbending. His surprise when this happens gives her a chance to deal some offensive blows, but he tries fighting with his bare hands, and then she sees how strong he really is. She is grateful for all the sparring sessions she had with her father: he alone prepared her for the hard contact between opposing forces. The punches hurt, when they do make contact, but she now knows how to move around his flying fists and stab the right pressure points, until he loses his balance and collapses.
They are too out of breath, one with the wind completely knocked out of him, to do more than curse at their attackers. When Korra steps up to them, they actually try to crawl away. Her mouth forms a smirk that they cannot see. They are truly afraid of her. Kids and teenagers have looked at her that way, but seeing that kind of fear on the faces of adult men is even more deliciously satisfying. Her greatest satisfaction comes when she deals a blow that knocks out her original opponent.
They find three small bombs, one in each gangster's pocket, as well as some expensive items: a pocket watch, a silver case containing an assortment of (probably illegal) medicines, a shaving kit with silver instruments and mirror. They take everything except the drugs, and leave the unconscious, trussed-up bodies on the street corner, where they know a police car is due to pass by within an hour.
Riding her borrowed motorcycle back to the tunnels, Korra exalts in both the adrenaline from the fight and the feeling of racing on such a small, fast vehicle. This is why she joined, to make a tangible difference. They are like secret heroes, defying the law in order to bring true justice. She impulsively revs the motorcycle, producing the loudest noise she has made all night.
"What are you, stupid?" one of her comrades shouts.
"Lighten up!" she retorts; nothing could ruin her good mood—
Then they hear the sirens.
Some cops on patrol must have heard her, because a police car emerges from a side street and stays on the small team's trail. Now all four of them accelerate. At this time of night, the streets are mostly empty, but not entirely.
Two of them take out gas canisters and toss them over their shoulders, creating a fog behind them that startled the cop and makes the police car swerve.
"Let's split up!" Korra's critic shouts when they come to an intersection. Korra and another cyclist go left while the other two go right. They can hear a crash, and then the siren stops. The cop must have crashed. Good.
Korra and her partner take the backroads to the nearest tunnel entrance (they memorized the system many weeks ago). Once they have debriefed, and turned in the gangsters' personal effects, she changes into street clothes and stores her uniform in one of the hundreds of lockers. It is only when she jogs back to her apartment building that she starts to feel sore in the spots where the earthbender hit her.
Once inside, Korra goes up the stairs two at a time, panting as she gets to the top. She is used to intense workouts, but even so, tonight was her biggest physical challenge yet. She tries enter the apartment quietly, but this proves to be unnecessary: Noatak is still awake, working at the kitchen table, which is covered with blueprints, letters, and drafts of speeches. He looks up when she comes in, and after she closes the door he asks, "How did it go?"
The moment the door is locked, Korra turns to him and exclaims, "That was the most fun EVER!"
Noatak cannot stop himself from laughing. For all her skill, she is still a child, or at least has a child's sense of joy. "I was listening to the police scanner," he says, tossing his head toward the device that Hiroshi Sato gave them. "I wondered if you passed anything unusual on the way home."
Korra's voice is casual as she doffs her coat and hangs it up on a peg. "A triad bombing got busted, and I think a cop car crashed during a chase."
"I take it you're not hurt?"
"No …" Korra rolls up her sleeve, which she now sees has traces of blood on it. Bruises are forming on her upper arms. "Maybe a little," she admits. "Do we have any ice?"
While she cleans her cuts at the sink, Noatak takes a chunk from the icebox and wraps it in a towel for her. He used to do that for her fairly often when she hurt herself. Korra used to hide scrapes and bruises from neighborhood scuffles, but now he smiles when he sees them, more proud than sympathetic. She smiles back, her teeth gritted in pain, but feeling the same kind of pride. These are true battle scars. They show she is a fighter, not just because of who she is, but because of what she has chosen to do.
As he passes her some small pieces of cloth and tape for bandages, he tells her. "I'm proud of you."
It is the first time he has ever said that to her. He has said "You should be proud" when she mastered new material, or joked "You must be proud" when she did something unorthodox or unsatisfactory. But now, hearing that he is proud of her, Korra feels like she has been given the greatest gift in the world.
When she is reasonably patched up, she stands and hugs him. Though she started it, Noatak holds on tighter and longer than her. Even though he misses being able to hold her entire body against him, he likes being able to put his arms all the way around her, and feel her arms around him. He has felt her form change as she has grown; now her body can create, carry, and care for life; she is almost more woman than girl. He considers these changes clinically, wondering if others will notice, and what that will mean for her.
The Equalists' activities reach a high point as Amon prepares to officially begin the revolution.
He gathers all the volunteers together to inform them that there will be a special event, a Revelation, at which he will tell the general public about his goals and his method for achieving them. An enormous warehouse is procured, big enough to hold a thousand people. Inside, they build a stage and hang banners with the Equalist insignia and a portrait of Amon.
Amon has one item on the agenda that Korra finds strange: he wants at least four triad benders of various elements present at the Revelation, and is sending out a special unit to abduct them. Amon decides to target the Triple Threat Triad, since it includes benders of three different elements; they can fill this strange quota in a single trip. He makes it clear that they ought not to be hurt too severely—for some reason he wants them to be able-bodied for the Revelation.
"Why do you need them?" Korra has the chance to ask this when they are safe in the apartment; underground, no one questions Amon's plans or instructions.
"We need a few benders to witness the Revelation, so the word can spread throughout the city."
"What's the big secret?"
"Korra, I'm trying to treat you the same way as the others. Only the Lieutenant and a few captains know about it."
She waits before venturing, "Can I volunteer for that mission?"
He laughs. "The assignments are already settled. You will have one guard duty shift, once they've been procured. Then I need you to deliver fliers from the factory to the various protest locations. Once that's done, you can report back to help us set up."
She pouts. "None of that sounds very exciting."
"I'm sorry if necessary preparations bore you. We all have to do our part, whether large or small. And you have a good thing to look forward to when it's all done."
"D'you mean the Revelation, or the revolution?'
"Both, I suppose."
So Korra does as he says. She gets a good look at the Triple Threat gangsters during her shift at the underground prison. They are restless, as well as confused, angry, and frightened; two of them try repeatedly to get information out of Korra and the other guards who pass by, but to no avail.
The fliers serve as a passcode, a fairly easy one for people determined to find the event. Indifferent passersby who take one flier will miss it, but those who are genuinely interested in coming will take enough to notice the different images on the backs and piece the map together; and they are likely to keep at least one flier, which grants them entry to the warehouse. It is not foolproof, though: all it would take is one undercover cop to sneak in and blow their cover. But Amon does not seem concerned about the possibility of infiltration at the rally. "The city will find out about this sooner or later," he says indifferently when Korra asks about it. "In fact, I'm looking forward to them finding out."
It is only an hour before the rally, when Korra and other uniformed Equalists are rushing around behind the scenes, that the Lieutenant calls her over and says, "Amon wants you on the stage when it begins."
"What? Really?"
"He was very specific. Said he wants you at his right hand." She can see his eyes looking at her through the goggles, part of his distinct uniform. "I don't suppose you know why?"
She smiles behind her mask, but merely shrugs for an answer. Inside, she is glowing with pride and excitement.
She does not see Amon until half an hour before the program is supposed to start. When he arrives at the warehouse, everyone pauses to acknowledge him. His words to them are simple, but to the point: "The Revelation is upon us, my brothers and sisters." They clap or quietly cheer before resuming work.
With ten minutes left, they take their positions under the stage. Somehow Amon singles Korra out from the others. He speaks to her in a low voice. "Are you ready to make history?"
"Are you kidding? I was born ready."
His eyes and his tone soften in a way that lets her know he is smiling behind his hard, painted mask. "In the ranks, we call each other brothers and sisters; but there's only one Equalist I can call my daughter. And I'm glad she's here to see this."
She is smiling too as she says, "She's glad to be a part of it."
He squeezes her shoulder―this is not the right time or place for a real hug―and they assume their positions beneath the stage.
Before the platform they are standing on begins to rise, an announcer booms over the loudspeakers, "Please welcome … your hero … your savior … AMON!" His choice of words makes Korra wonder: how many people are indebted to him? One thing she does know, though, is that no one owes him as much as she does. It is thanks to him that she grew up safe and loved, became the person she is, and can now serve this glorious purpose.
The crowd cheers in welcome as the platform lifts Amon, the Lieutenant, Korra, and the other chi-blockers up to the stage.
Amon waits for them to quiet down before he takes the microphone and begins his speech. "My quest for equality began many years ago. When I was a boy, my family and I lived on a small farm. We weren't rich, and none of us were benders. This made us very easy targets for the firebender who extorted my father." This is the most Korra has ever heard him say about what his life was like before she entered it. "One day, my father confronted this man, but when he did, that firebender took my family from me."
Korra is startled. He has mentioned so little about his family, but she remembers him describing his mother and talking about camping with his father. He never mentioned anything like this. He was an orphan, like her? But late enough that he knew his parents, remembered them, and felt pain from losing them?
She tunes back in to focus on her father's speech. "I came to the United Republic because I had heard it was a center of harmony, a place where people could live in peace. But here I found the same power imbalance that exists everywhere else in the world: benders subjugating and oppressing non-benders. The late Avatar Aang might have argued that bending brings balance to the world, but he would be wrong. The only thing bending has brought to the world is suffering. It has been the cause of every war in every era. But that is about to change."
Yes, Korra thinks, because they are about to start a war without bending. This war will be caused by their lack of bending. (Or does that make the cause of war the same?)
"I know you have been wondering, 'What is the Revelation?' You are about to get your answer."
Behind her mask, Korra rolls her eyes at how he is drawing out the suspense. He enjoys being dramatic, and he is milking this moment for all it is worth.
"Since the beginning of time, the spirits have acted as guardians of our world, and they have spoken to me. They have chosen me to usher in a new era of balance. They have granted me a power that will make equality a reality. The power to take a person's bending away." There is a pause—just long enough for Korra to think, Every chi-blocker has that ability—before he emphasizes: "Permanently."
Every spectator in the room gasps. Korra feels frozen. She wonders, though not quite seriously, if he has crossed the line from fanaticism into madness. Maybe the stress of all this planning pushed him over the edge?
For the first time in her life, she has an instinct to protect her father, from embarrassment if not outright hostility. He has dozens of Equalist militia to protect him from the crowd if necessary, but only she knows him personally, and only she would have the nerve to cross the stage and urge him to back down.
"Now, for a demonstration." The guards begin to lead the gangsters onto the stage, and Amon introduces the first. "Please welcome Lightning Bolt Zolt, leader of the Triple Threat Triad, and one of the most notorious criminals in Republic City."
The crowd jeers and boos at the old man, who looks at them with contempt but not fear. "Ah, boo yourself!"
Amon tells the crowd, "Zolt has amassed a fortune by extorting and abusing non-benders. But his reign of terror if about to come to an end. Now, in the interest of fairness I will give Zolt the chance to fight to keep his bending."
Korra knows better. It is not really about fairness. It is about putting on a show. Amon has a real flair for drama, which usually makes Korra laugh or roll her eyes, but now makes her stomach twist.
Zolt is already in a stance, facing Amon head-on, confident to the point of being smug. "You're gonna regret doing that, pal."
Korra keeps her mouth shut but cannot help jumping back a little, seeing the flames come at her father, wondering if his uniform is fireproof like hers. But he dodges left and right, weaving his way closer to Zolt, who suddenly switches from fire to lightning. She has heard about lightning generation, a subtalent of firebending that has grown more common in recent decades, but she has never seen it herself, and certainly not up close like this. She cannot help being afraid—her father is only human—
But he makes it to Zolt, and pushes away his arm with an ordinary block, forcing the lightning up and above them. The electricity disrupts the spotlights, makes them flash and flicker as Amon ducks behind Zolt, forcing the man's arm behind his back. Ignoring the lightning still shooting from Zolt's free arm, he grasps the back of the firebender's neck, and then raises a hand dramatically before pressing it to Zolt's forehead. The two of them are still for a long moment; then Zolt's electricity is replaced by a final blast of fire into the air; then nothing. Amon raises his hand, releasing Zolt, who falls forward on his stomach.
Amon takes a step backwards and clasps his hands behind his back, as though surveying his work. Zolt tries to push himself up and turn around, but when he punches out in Amon's direction, no fire spills out of his fists. The crowd gasps as he falls again, too weak to even carry himself. Zolt pants heavily, looks up at Amon and wheezes, "What—what did you do to me?"
"Your firebending is gone. Forever."
Korra gapes behind her mask. It is true. But how, when, and where did he learn to do that?
Amon faces the crowd and thunders victoriously, "The era of bending is over. A new era of equality has begun!"
The crowd cheers, and Korra has to stop herself from applauding automatically; it is unbecoming of an Equalist. She is part of this show, too. She has a part to play. So she unties the waterbender and pulls him up to his feet, before the guard next to her pushes him forward. The waterbender and earthbender they captured do not have their elements available, so they make fools of themselves trying to fight without their bending, something they clearly have never attempted before. They are much more fearful than Zolt, after seeing Amon defeat him so easily. They similarly collapse under his hands.
Korra has never seen her father like this: cool, efficient, dominative. It gives her a chill, despite the sometimes sweaty uniform. He is punishing bad people, benders who threaten and extort and mug regular people, who bribe cops to look the other way. He is executing justice, right here.
And his words indicated that this is only the beginning. This power changes everything. It means that he really can change the world, more than any army could.
This is the future.
Once he has removed each gangster's bending, Amon returns to the microphone. "My ability is the crux of our movement, but it is not the only necessary part. I owe many thanks to the courageous men and women who have joined my cause. To achieve full equality, we will need the support of every nonbender. Anyone who wishes to volunteer their time, resources, or abilities should see one of my officers before leaving this warehouse. And when you do leave, tell all the nonbenders you know about what you witnessed tonight. I will not swear you to secrecy. The day is coming when we will no longer have to operate in secret, because the tyrants who oppress us will have been deposed."
Even though they have talked before of opposing and changing the government, Korra senses that a line has just been crossed. Vigilante justice may be a crime, but this is different. This is treason, pure and simple.
It is almost impossible to assess whether this knowledge bothers anyone in the crowd. They cheer when Amon leaves the stage, and some stand in line for hours to join. Korra and the other Equalists stay to take down everyone's contact information and arrange appointments for interviews and background checks.
After the hall is finally empty of spectators and supporters, they still have to clean up, leaving no evidence that the Equalists used the facility. Korra helps take down the posters, and finds herself studying them with new eyes. Now she understands the symbolism of the yellow and red sunbeams arranged around Amon's outstretched hand. His hands will change the world, bringing light like a new sun rising to chase out the darkness of bending.
Korra takes a couple posters home, to put up in her bedroom with others she has collected. She is more nervous than usual as she walks home. The same unit that abducted the gangsters will have already returned them to their wrecked hideout, but she does not have to fear them anymore. She is more afraid of the police who, by this time, may have gotten word of the seditious assembly. She looks over her shoulder frequently, not wanting to lead anyone to Amon's dwelling. The whole time, she replays the program in her mind, and wonders at what it all means.
Everything is going to change.
This is good—wonderful—the best thing that could possibly happen for the world. So why does she still feel uneasy? Because it will be a hard fight? Because it might be dangerous? Because her father is setting himself up as a public enemy?
They have always thought of themselves in opposition to the tyrannical bending government, but the idea of openly declaring that opposition, and turning that conviction into action, makes Korra feel excited in a liberating way. It may be dangerous, but she tells herself it will be worth the risk.
She races up the stairs of their building, and is quick to unlock, enter, and lock the door before calling out. "Dad?"
He comes out of his bedroom, now dressed in pajamas. He is grinning, satisfied, proud, and triumphant. "I think that went rather well," he says casually. "What do you think?"
"What do I think?" Korra marches up and punches his arm, half joking, half truly indignant. "How could you keep that secret from me?"
"I wanted it to be a delightful surprise."
It should delight her, she knows that, and yet … the idea that he could have secrets this important is unnerving. Between the two of them, a "secret" has always meant a surprise, something that would be revealed in due time. She supposes this is the same thing, only on a larger scale, since it will affect so many people.
"How do you do it?
He makes a sound like a sigh, but he is still smiling, in a way that says she cannot understand. "I can't explain it, Korra. Sometimes the spirits speak to us in ways that words can't adequately describe."
"How'd you learn it, then? Do you meditate or something?" They have seen people sit immobile in Republic City Park, and Korra's old martial arts teacher said that he practiced meditation. She never understood the point of it. She knew how to control her breathing—that was important in exercise—but she has always had too much energy to sit still and focus her mind.
"It took years of trial and error. Someday, I'll try to explain it to you. Right now, it's enough to know that I'm the only one who can do it." He looks at Korra, and she looks at him, still rather bewildered. "Are you all right? Are you tired, after all that work?"
Korra smiles, laughs a little. "I don't know what to say. This is … beyond anything I imagined." She realizes that, despite his claim to the contrary, she has always regarded this Equalist movement the same way she regarded their volunteer work. They did not give food to the hungry because they thought they would eradicate starvation and poverty; they did it because they wanted to help, even if it was not enough. Now, they can reorder the whole social structure—not just the government and economy, but society itself.
Is it even possible? They cannot stop benders from being born in the future. She supposes that Amon could visit newly discovered benders to equalize them. He is going to be more than a leader; the entire revolution, the new world order they bring in, will depend on him.
Korra has never felt so awed by her father, or more afraid for him. It is more important now than ever before that he stays safe and his double identity is kept secret. But right now, he looks more pleased than she has ever seen him before. He wants this, for himself, for her, for their people, and for all people.
She shakes her head, trying to mentally articulate how much she is feeling. "Before I joined up, I didn't realize how passionate and … hopeful you were, about all of this. And since I found out, it's grown so much. I guess what I'm trying to say is … I'm really happy for you."
"You are sweet." He kisses the side of her head and pushes her gently toward her room. "Get some rest. I'm going to need you now more than ever. This is just the beginning."
Nothing changes right away. Of course, the only people who try to spread news of Amon's power are the former benders they release, but none of them try to contact the police or the press. It becomes a rumor, slowly spreading from the city's underbelly to the people of the lower class.
The biggest change is the amount of recruits. Dozens of non-benders, from as young as fourteen to as old as seventy, ask to be trained, or at least allowed to help however they can. The few wealthier hopefuls offer financial aid, and those with powerful friends offer to lobby for political favors.
"Maybe I should be a youth coordinator," Korra suggests over breakfast. "When kids want to join, I'd have them make fliers or something."
He smiles but shakes his head. "We can't spare the manpower for a youth group right now. But maybe someday."
She hears people whispering about it in the library foyer, some hopeful, some fearful, all of them nervous and excited. She has to stop herself from smiling when she hears bits of conversation before they prudently lower their voices. She wants to show solidarity with the ones who seem intrigued, and promise retribution to those who are afraid.
This attitude changes, not because of anyone she hears talking about it, but by the visit of a peculiar library patron: a girl in a yellow and orange uniform, the same color but very different design than any Air Acolyte robes Korra has seen before. The girl looks no more than ten or eleven years old. She seems to have a chaperone, a white-haired, bespectacled woman in the usual Air Acolyte attire for women. Besides the clothes, what stands out about the girl is her expression of awe when she sees the rows of bookshelves.
"Can I help you?" Korra asks, sticking to the protocol.
The girl looks at her, stares for a moment longer than might be normal before answering. "Um, yes. Can you show me where history books are kept?"
Korra points her in the direction of the nonfiction floor. "The children's and adults' sections are labeled. Let me know if you need help finding anything."
"Thanks!" The girl jogs off, and her elderly chaperone follows.
Almost two hours pass by before they return to the front desk, carrying over a dozen books taken, Korra notices, from the adult section. "Did you find everything?"
"I found a lot that I wasn't looking for," the girl answers happily.
"Oh. Good." The girl uses Master Tenzin's library card, just as his other followers have, and watches with fascination as Korra stamps the card and books with their due date. After a moment Korra says casually, "You look a little young to be an Air Acolyte. You're not one of the airbenders, are you?"
"Yes, actually, I am." The girl's tone is matter-of-fact, almost humble.
"Wow." Korra does not know what else to say.
"I don't go around the city very much," the airbender says. "Usually one of the Acolytes gets books for me, but I wanted to see the library for myself."
"So you're the one who eats up all the biographies and historical fiction?"
"Yeah … I like reading about things that really happened."
"I guess I can understand that." Korra tries to do what she always does, putting the due date slip on top of the books and pushing the pile across the desk. "Enjoy."
"Thank you." The airbender takes up the stack, and looks at Korra for a moment longer, as though about to say something; then she just smiles in lieu of saying goodbye, and leaves with her chaperone.
The interaction leaves Korra feeling strangely numb, and wondering about things she has never even considered.
What will Equalization mean for children? What will it mean for the airbenders, few as there are? She knows that the Air Nomads were a peaceful people, with no military. Noatak taught her enough about bending to know how to combat each kind, and she knows airbenders do not even have any offensive fighting techniques.
He is out late that night as Amon, so she does not have a chance to ask him until breakfast the next morning. She tries to sound only casually interested. "Dad? Are you going to equalize every bender?"
"That is the plan."
"Even the airbenders?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He looks at her. "Why not?"
"But why bother? There are only four of them in the world and—"
"What's this sudden affection for the dying breed?"
Breed? Korra bristles at such a callous word, but she ignores it and tries to explain. "I just know that the Air Nomads were always peaceful, and three of the world's four airbenders are just kids. That seems like a hard thing to go through when you're that small." She does not say what is really bothering her, that it seems unfair to take it from children who prove to be harmless.
"Children are resilient. You and I both lost our families at a young age, and we turned out alright, if I do say so myself. In fact, they'll be better off losing their bending early rather than later in life."
"What do you mean?"
"They won't have the chance to build a career on their bending, so they won't be losing as much as adults who have." Korra had not even thought about that—all the pro-benders and public servants and laborers would be out of jobs. Noatak goes on, "In any case, it wouldn't be fair to let airbenders go on bending when benders of the other elements no longer could. Former benders would accuse me of favoritism. It would only make the airbenders feel more special, more entitled."
He is always so logical, sounding so sensible and sure of himself. Unlike her, he thinks things through and plans everything thoroughly and carefully. Who is she to question him? (Come to think of it, she is probably the only Equalist who can question Amon without retribution.)
The phone rings, and Korra goes to answer. It is Asami, who has patiently and respectfully waited for a whole month before calling, since Korra said she would be busy for a while. "How about that match?"
Korra feels torn, as though her apprehension has solidified like ice and is on the verge of cracking. It is almost as though, like Amon and Noatak, there are two people inside her. The fun-loving teenager wants to go out, but the pragmatic Equalist knows better. "I can't really spare the money …"
"I'm treating all of you. Bolin had the idea that we could make dinner at their apartment before the game, because it starts pretty late at night."
Since the Revelation, Korra has been trying hard not to think of Bolin. She cannot help pitying the two bender boys. Of all the girls they could have met, they had to meet two with Equalist affiliations. That is bound to spell bad news for them, regardless of how they use their bending. She does not want to act like their friend, knowing what is going to happen to them, what they are going to lose.
But maybe seeing the match will help remind her of what they are going to end: the idolizing of people with unnatural abilities, the glorification of violence, the corruption of the sports industry.
"Korra?"
"I'm here."
"Well, what do you say?"
She makes up her mind. "Okay, I'll go. What can I bring for dinner?"
Music: "Heaven On Their Minds" from Jesus Christ Superstar by Andrew Lloyd Webber