The Diego Diaries: Cybertron (dd7 13)
=0=Polyhex
It was dark where they finally slowed to a stop. Nearby was a building parked there for the duration for a specific cause. When that reason was fulfilled, it would head to another place. Inside, the space was lit up and there were a crowd of individuals working on what looked like gray piles of slightly familiar looking metallic shapes. They could have been bots to the humans staring at the sight.
They were.
Hard Drive stared at the sight, then knelt down before the cart to stare at the occupants for a moment. "What is the worst thing you ever saw in your life?" he asked all of them.
They were silent, some of them glancing at the others, then Andre spoke. :I have seen the aftermath of wars:
"How 'aftermath'? Did you see the dead where they fell? Did you see the survivors and their dead eyes?" Hardie asked.
Andre stared at him, then nodded. :Yes, General. I have. I have been in places of famine and war. I have seen such things:
Hardie nodded. "I don't suppose that those sort of things have touched your world?" he asked the others.
None of them answered.
"I thought not. That tent building roves over the battlefields of the past. There are literally more of them on this planet than I can calculate. They have one mission. They have to find and try to identify the dead. We had a war here that was an annihilation. It was a desolation.
"Everywhere you go you trod on the dead. You almost get to the point … almost," he said, "that you don't begin to see them anymore. Your mind can't process it. But you look anyway because that's all you can offer. You bear witness because they deserve it.
"They're trying in there to identify the dead that were found in this place, this one small area of our very great world. We're getting better at it but some will never be known."
Hardie stood. Then he turned away from them and walked onward. The grim faced mech holding the cart's handle followed as did the other bots coming along.
They walked down the boulevard which was scraped clear of debris through pools of light from tall towers. There were buildings started, some very few finished while all the others as far as you could see were in various stages of fulfillment.
Hardie slowed, then knelt again. "This is the Golden Mile of Polyhex. Polyhex was our financial and banking capital. It was where people like you, Baudin, Harris and Walters would have worked. There was so much wealth generated here, magnified and transferred around that you couldn't begin to conceive of it.
"It was struck during mid war when the masters of this particular universe were struggling to save themselves at the expense of everyone else. Their machinations started this war, their desire to control everything including other's dreams. The fire that reigned down from the heavens was only matched by that for Praxus." He stood, then continued onward.
A mile passed by before they reached the headquarters for the city. Going inside, Hardie led the way to the transport room where a bridge was waiting for them to enter. They stepped out at Praxus. They walked along the wide central highway until they reached the clearing in the center of the city that was the Grand Parkway.
Hardie gazed around, then knelt again. "This is the mighty city of Praxus … my city. I lived here with all my family, I had a home, work that fulfilled me and ruled with three others the highest caste in The System, the Triad. We were the bulwark against total and complete enslavement of The People.
"This was once one of the most beautiful, cultured, educated and artistic cities on this world." He rose and looked around. "I wish I were a poet. I wish I had the words to tell you what it feels like to me to see it this way."
He pointed in the distance, to the place that was called The District, the place where the Elites had lived since The Beginning. "My home is that way." He began to walk in that direction, a direction he hadn't been able to bring himself to go until now.
The others followed silently.
=0=Temple
Venture and Turbine sat in the meeting which was to finalize with a vote the upgrade of the facility and the transfer to the Temple District Board several square miles of open unused land north of the facility. The plans were approved for an expansion of the Pavilion, the space for the school which was being overrun with users and acolytes who wished to become priests or what humans would call deacons. They went to homes to assist those who needed them, led the visitor groups, answered mail and emergencies, worked at what was assigned and were incredibly essential to the functioning of everything.
The land would be preserved for the growing Temple District in the middle of the heavily growing Autobot City District. One had to ensure that the Temple would have the space it needed as the colony continued to grow.
Turbine listened to Ratchet off line, then pulsed comfort. He leaned back in his chair as Venture explained the long term proposed plans for the area to everyone there.
Hardie was helping some human kid gain his footing by going into the heart of his own darkness, the home district in Praxus. None of them including Ironhide had dared go there, this place of wonderful memories now buried in bombs and the dead. The family minus Ironhide who was fighting nearby with Prime had not been there at the time of attack. But Blackjack and Alor had. How they got out alive no one knew who didn't hold to miracles.
They were all in the field getting refugees away. Ratchet was crawling through craters getting civilians to safety as Vos and Tarn began to drop nukes on each other. Only Blackjack and Alie could tell the tale and they didn't. No one wanted to remember home any other way than they did.
He sat in the meeting feeling the melancholy moment and when he could he would track down Hardie and give him a hug. He still wouldn't go home to see what was left of their beautiful life.
Not yet. Maybe, sometime.
=0=The District, Praxus
They walked under the still standing archway declaring the district and headed down pockmarked streets where piles of debris were stacked at intervals for removal. It was dark but there were huge towers of lights at distant intervals. They walked down streets, turned corners, seeing the intensity of the destruction which had leveled the street nearly to knee level as far as the eye could see.
The Seekers had been ordered to bring the rain and it came down in sheets of fire everywhere. The sirens had gone off but it was too late for most. Only a forlorn child burned half to death, shrieking for his ada in the middle of a still burning deathscape appeared at the time to be the only surviving witness to what had happened. It would take a long time before the survivor's guilt that Bluestreak carried like a cross would be assuaged by the knowledge that he wasn't the only one who had lived.
They rounded a curve, then slowed with Hardie. A big hole in the ground surrounded by melted spires of what had once been a beautiful, ancient and elegant building greeted them. It was the site of Hardie's home, the one he helped build when the Quintessans had gone and the soldiers were gathering in Praxus to work out what came next. He'd etched his name in some of the building materials, then put them in place by his own hand. Now it was gone, never to come again.
Hardie knelt. "See that hole there? That was my house. See that one across the street?" he asked as he pointed to the same on the other side of the wide boulevard that was part of the charm of this ancient elegant place. "That was the home of my son, Raptor. On the corner there," he said pointing to another hole in the ground some distance away, "was the home my grandson, Blackjack raised his own son, Ironhide. We lived here and we loved this place. Take a good look at what happens when someone thinks they're better than someone else because they have a lot of stuff."
It was silent as the humans and bots took in the sights. It was dark and dangerous looking and the scene that lived on in all its memories for some of them was impossible to conjure among those who had never seen it in its glory. The sky overhead was filled with stars and the lights of satellites, some of them natural and others man made. It was dismal in a way that was hard to describe.
Hardie nodded as he considered his own thoughts and the graveyard around him. "Some of us thought that everything belonged to them. Some of us thought that they were by the reason of their things and their names, their greed and privilege that they could do anything they wanted. They didn't care about anyone but themselves. This is the direct outcome. It doesn't matter to the dead what they did or didn't have, what their names were, what their families managed. They're dead and all they could take with them was the love they had and their memories.
"You can't take anything else with you when you die," Hardie said quietly. "You only leave with the memories of yourself and who you were. The memories of your life and those in it are the ticket you take to the next life. All of your stuff, all the things that seemed so important are going to someone else when you're gone no matter how hard you hold on to it. You can horde until you have no more space anywhere for your stuff but in the end, you die and take none of it with you."
He rose. "This place was beautiful. We had wonderful neighbors and we had fun here. My son, grandsons, friends, colleagues, all of us lived here and we had a great life. But it was snuffed out no matter how hard we worked to prevent it by greed, entitlement, indifference, cruelty and self importance."
He looked at them. "I know you think it can't happen to you. I know you think that the party will never end. A lot of people like you who lived here like you do on Earth never thought so either. But life has taught me that the harder you strangle something, the harder they thrash to get free. At some point you will let go and it will kill you. It'll happen to you, too. You can pretend it won't but it will.
"This place is a graveyard for all of us. We loved this place. But we also were very clear that everyone who lived here and in the empire, no matter how high and mighty or how low, mattered. All of them. They matter." He knelt again. "You are not better than anyone else. When the heavens opened up and fire came down it burned the high and the low. No one was spared.
"I've dug out dead babies with my bare hands. I've carried the bodies of entire families to ships so they can be taken care of decently. They were poor and they were rich. They were unknown and they were famous. I stood at the airports and watched packed ships of my people take off into the unknown, scared to my spark about their safety as they left to go who knew where. I watched this world burn and no one was spared. No one. What is there in your thinking that makes you believe this cannot happen to you?" he asked.
The humans stared at him, the soldiers and the civilians. No one said anything for a moment, then Will Lennox shifted. :Nothing, General. Most of us know that. Some don't because they don't care:
"They should," Hardie said. "I can read the data as well as anyone. Earth is on borrowed time unless you change. Your time will be coming if you continue down this road. You don't have to believe me but you should. Where will you go when the time of survival comes? Can you go into space? Can you fill ships with your people and watch them leave in terror, unclear about where they're going as they flee for their lives? What is there in you that can't see them and love them with all your heart? What is there missing in you that you can't see them and see yourself?"
It was leaden as they stared upward at him. Clark and Willow Walters looked ashen and so did Barrett. The others, Harris and Baudin were solemn and pale.
Hardie shook his helm as he looked around. "This is my heart's home. I love this place more than I can articulate. But its gone now. All of it. What is there in you that you would wish with your entitlement and indifference such a thing for yourself?" he mused. Then he walked onward.
The others followed silently.
=0=TBC 6-12-19