Chapter 26 – the pocKetKnife
"Remember that, boy! Next time you look in a mirror, you'll know not to talk back!"
Adam's mother dabbed at his eye with a damp cloth. "Don't touch at it. That'll only make it worse."
"Worse? How could it get any worse? I'll never be able to…I'm…"
"There, there."
Adam knew that there was no solace she could provide from the harsh truth. He was half blind, and the weak never lasted long in the camps. They'd taken his eye, but it may as well have been a death sentence.
"You shouldn't have tried to sneak off, Adam."
Adam clenched his teeth. "I know…"
"And arguing only makes it worse."
"This wasn't my fault!"
Instead of responding to his rage with more rage, his mother instead calmly continued to wipe away the charred skin, cartilage, and pus. Whenever he exploded like this, she simply waited for his boiling point to come down to a simmer before continuing right where she'd left off. She was eternally patient with not only him but all those around her, to the point that Adam wondered where his temper came from. It might've been his father, except he had no father.
"I'm not saying it was, sweet thing. I'm saying that you can avoid it happening a second time if you choose not to give in to your rage."
"So what, keep my head down?" he growled.
"Keep your other eye in its socket," she said back measuredly. "You and I are the last of clan Taurus, and I refuse to outlive you, son. If you ever again think to act in haste, remember that I would die of sorrow if anything were to ever happen to you."
Something had already happened to him. However, this was his fault and his fault alone, so he kept these thoughts from his mother.
Over a month after his eye was lost, Adam left the camp once again.
The armed guards at the gates ordered him to stop when he left to go out and search, then screamed abuse at him with as much vigor as they could be paid to dredge up, then dismissed him as a suicidal fool for risking the Grimm, but at no point did they make to stop him. They had guns, but they didn't use them.
He found what he was looking for.
If anyone had been nearby, Adam would have killed them. Human or Faunus, worker or slave, he would have broken them in two and ripped their stomach out and pressed his thumbs into their eyes. But no one was nearby, so Adam could only reduce every sapling in sight to mulch.
It couldn't have been her fault. She kept her head down, she never said or did anything to provoke them. The only reason this could have happened was because they were humans.
Her body had been lying in a random small trench in a young grove of trees miles away from the camps, clothes torn off and deep wounds running across her torso, before he'd buried it.
Adam's mother had not outlived him.
Adam had three things to his name.
Adam's mother had left a single worldly possession to her son before passing on to the next life prematurely. It was small sewn banner with Wilt, the Taurus rose, smack dab in the center. The thing was practically a rag, but Adam treasured it like it was made of solid gold. Slaves weren't supposed to own possessions, but who could be bothered to take it from him? No one cared if a boy had a strip of cloth.
The second thing was a pocketknife he'd found in the trench next to his mother's bloodied corpse. Adam had seen sunlight glinting off the metal and chose to snatch up the small weapon. It had no features other than a single blade a mere three inches long. Adam understood that this was probably the knife that had inflicted the brutal injuries on his mother and quite possibly the very instrument that ended her life, but he was a half-blind Faunus slave who couldn't afford the luxury of sentiment. Leaving it behind would have been no different than lying down next to his mother in that trench and waiting for death to carry him away to join her. Slaves absolutely were not permitted to hold weapons, but Adam hid the pocketknife well, in a place that only he knew of.
The last thing that Adam could claim was exclusively his own and belonged to no one else was the fury he felt.
But young Adam chose to learn a valuable lesson from his mother. He kept his head down, reigned in his rage, and worked in silence. He was only six years old and could do nothing at his present age beyond these three actions.
Unlike his mother, though, he wasn't seeking to coast through life to an early finish line. Adam was biding his time.
Twenty human guards.
Twenty lumps of muscle, cartilage, tissue, and bone, lined by sinew and chock full of blood sloshing back and forth, sewn together in a thin bag of skin.
Twenty lives to take, one at a time.
He didn't even make it to his first before someone saw him retrieving the pocketknife from the storeroom where he'd hidden it.
The someone in question was a human, but it wasn't a guard.
"That's a mighty fine toy you've got there, boy," the older man said, dressed to his neck in white. "Did your father give it to you?"
"I have no father."
"Oh. You mother, then?"
"She's dead."
Adam was tempted to rush the man and plunge his knife straight through his heart, but he wanted to hold off for now. This human had clearly seen a slave with a weapon, but he'd made no moves to have Adam killed, so perhaps Adam could talk his way out of this. After all, with eight years of experience talking his way out of trouble every time he found himself knee deep in it, Adam had gotten quite good at it. The key was to make your truths and your lies look the same. Wear the same mask at all times, and no one would ever be able to tell what you actually felt in your heart.
"Who's your guardian, then?"
"Guardian?"
"You know, someone who takes care of you. Feeds you, clothes you, teaches you how to take care of yourself until you're old enough to not rely on them."
"We feed in the canteen. Clothes are provided. And they don't like to teach slaves how to do anything."
"S-Sl…for Dust's sake. You're not even trying to hide it?"
"Hide what?"
"Kid, slavery's been illegal for as long as Atlas has been a floating kingdom over Mantle. This camp…damned Schnees…"
Adam couldn't help but smile. Any enemy of the Schnees was a friend of his. "Who are you? I haven't seen you before."
"My name is General James Ironwood. As the highest authority in the kingdom of Atlas, I represent our military as it seeks to keep law and order in this fair kingdom."
Adam looked James Ironwood over. If he was some bigwig general from the city, he certainly dressed the part. His clothes were clearly washed more than once a week, and not even the guards themselves could boast that level of hygiene. The man's chin was clean shaven and well-shaped, and he projected an aura of collected posture.
If only he didn't talk like an idiot.
"James, huh? Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're not in Atlas."
"It's General. And yes, we are."
"Uh-huh. Well, you see, James, Atlas ends when you leave the city. Borders don't matter in these parts. Out here, the only true authority is whichever guards are on shift. I'm a slave. I work, I don't own anything, I don't get paid, and I die. That's the camp's law and order."
"I…see. What you've told me is disturbing news indeed. I'll have to add it to my report."
Adam blinked his good eye. "Report?"
"Yes. I'm compiling a report on SDC operations at select labor camps following a tainted payload of Fire Dust that nearly brough down one of our warships. I came unannounced in an unmarked vehicle in hopes of getting a genuine view of the labor camps."
Figures. Humans only care when the Dust is in jeopardy. Faunus bleed every day and no one bats an eyelid, but Brothers forbid we don't properly crush up the powders finely enough to meet the specs.
"I'm Adam. Am I going to be in your report?"
"Well, that depends."
"On what?"
James stepped closer to Adam. As close as they were not, Adam was nearly consumed by the vast shadow the well-built man cast. "On what you're planning to do with that knife."
"Same thing you need warships full of Dust for – self-defense."
James rolled his eyes. "I may have to confiscate that if you don't tell me why you actually have it."
"Oh? I guess I really am just a slave, then, if you're going to take what belongs to me."
James smiled lopsidedly, then randomly stepped away towards the exit of the storeroom. Adam wondered for a second if their conversation was truly concluded so abruptly, but James turned out to be moving to close the door. He turned back, then gestured for Adam to come closer, bent over, and leaned towards the Faunus conspiratorially.
"I counted twenty guards. Think you could take 'em all at once and come out on top?"
"I don't plan to. One at a time ought to work just fine."
The human took as step back and leaned against one of the shelves. "I'm impressed. Most White Fang don't have the patience to play the long game. They just go for instant gratification no matter what the consequences."
"White what?" Adam asked most innocently.
He snorted. "You're an okay liar, kid. Let's say you somehow succeed, and all twenty guards are dead. What then?"
"I'll kill the other guards at the other camps."
"And then?"
Adam sneered at the man's pretty white overcoat and brightly colored shoulder patches. "And then every human. Present clowns included."
Evidently, that wasn't the answer James had been fishing for. "If you do that, they'll own you forever. You'll be nothing more than a slave, but with rage as your master, not some foreman."
"And what would you propose I do? They've got the guns! They've got the whips! They've got all the power!"
"Power only exists in our minds."
"Pretty sure it exists in their bullets."
"When was the last time you saw them use those bullets?"
"They point the guns at us every day."
"I said use the bullets, not point the guns."
Adam thought back to the night he'd walked out of the camp to find his missing mother. He was fairly certain that he'd be shot, but he'd thought it worth it at the time. The guards had fully-automatic Dust-powered rifles, but they wouldn't use them. After all, if they shot a slave for leaving the camp, all they'd have was one less slave to their name and nothing to gain from it.
Still, he couldn't tell what James was trying to say. If he tried to instigate a rebellion and seize the camp by force, they would call in reinforcements, overwhelm the insurgents, execute the leaders, and put the rest back to work with double shifts, like they had at the camp ten league north.
He'd waited all his life for this. One human's words wouldn't be enough to deter him.
"The way I see it," began James, "you have a choice. You can choose to kill the people who've wronged you, likely dying in the process and doing so only by using their own violence against theirs, or you can put that knife down and try something else. I can promise you this, though. If you choose the second option, you'll never be a slave to anyone or anything. You'd be the master of yourself."
"If you expect me to believe that you and you're report will change a damn thing–"
"This isn't about me. It's about you."
"Me?"
James opened the door, letting in a wave of light into the dark storeroom.
"You."
Adam didn't put down the knife down. He kept it with him and chose to forget about James.
He carried it in his trousers the next day when the guards called him in for work. He and the forty Faunus were supervised by a pair of guards as they worked the Dust line in the southern yard.
It was their usual routine. Two Faunus would be at the top of the conveyor belt, and the rest would stand on both sides and manually crush any oversized pieces of Dust they saw moving down the chain with their picks. It was backbreaking labor that could have easily been replaced by a machine, but machines cost money. Clothing the Faunus in rags and feeding them slop must've been cheaper in the long run, or else the Schnees wouldn't keep doing it. At least, that was what Adam assumed. Maybe they were just too lazy to put in the effort to change.
Adam knew that today would be the day. He would either kill his masters or die trying.
Faunus were allowed to take one water break every four hours. Each worker would be told to leave by a guard, then expected to return within two minutes. When Adam's name was called, he went to the water barrel and drew his knife, blocking anyone's view of it with his stomach as he leaned over the barrel.
The guards had their backs turned to him. It would be easy – pop one in the back, then get the other when he turned around. There were only two of them here; the other eighteen would be split between the barracks or the other working yards. None of them would know what happened. Adam would slip away from the yard, wait until the heat died down, then he'd do it again, and again, and again until there were no guards left in the entire camp.
Inching closer to one of the guards while keeping his eyes on the other, he tensed his muscles as he prepared to thrust the blade forward. The other Faunus in the line continued working, blissfully unaware that they were about to be…
…freed.
Adam had assumed that he would just lie low and keep his head down until the guards forgot about their comrades' deaths, but he hadn't given any thought to the others. There were around forty Faunus who would be blamed, even though they'd done nothing. Adam could easily slink back to another work yard and avoid punishment by pretending he'd never been there, but there would be punishment for someone. These workers – at least one of them would have the blame pinned on them, and they would be gunned down.
Adam slipped the pocketknife away as the shame crept in.
Forty Faunus could have been put in danger because of him and his fury. He recognized their faces; eight were sons and daughters of other slaves. Would their mothers outlive them? And what of the elderly, who couldn't even take the whippings that would be doled out en masse? Adam knew these forty people, and he'd nearly damned them.
Forty Faunus.
And two guards.
If they shoot a slave, all they have is one less slave.
There's no way they could shoot all forty of us. They'd lose a fifth of the workforce, and a fifth of their Dust.
"Ey, bull! Back to work!"
Adam was so consumed in his though that he hadn't even noticed the guards turning around. Dumbly walking over to the Dust line, he stepped up to his station and grabbed his pick. Then, in a moment of either sheer brilliance or utter stupidity, he threw his pick to the floor.
"Kid! You there! Pick that back up and get to work, right now! Your water break ended over a minute ago – do not test me!"
Adam dropped down in a crouch, then planted his butt on the ground. The rest of the Faunus on the line paused, unsure of what he was doing.
"Stand up!" One of the guards grabbed Adam's forearm and lifted him up. He pushed Adam back towards the line, but Adam simply sat down again.
Power only exists in our minds. James, I hope you're right. If you're not…well, what was I looking forward to in life if I don't get to kill the guards?
"Oh, think you're gonna take a day off, eh?" The guard turned to his companion. "Ivan, grab the brand. We'll see how Mister Moo Cow likes losing his other eye."
It would only work if the others joined in. Adam gazed at them imploringly. His entire gambit was centered around a mass strike, in which the guards would be forced to comply when the alternative was executing the entire line of workers. He desperately needed these people he'd nearly killed.
Several turned away to avoid his pleading eye, and he couldn't fault them. He'd been the first to sit down, but if he failed to garner enough support among the ranks, he'd be punished alone.
Please, please, don't go back to work! They cannot punish us all if we stand as one!
It wasn't working. A majority of the Faunus had set their sights back on the line, inspecting the crystals as they came back down.
Then, one of the others, a goat Faunus the same age as his mother, sat down as well. Adam silently thanked her, which she responded with by offering him a tired nod.
A cockroach Faunus who slept two bunks below Adam was the next, making the unruly duo a protesting trio. That must have been enough for the others to catch on to their plans, as two wren Faunus siblings came next, then the siblings' parents, then a full family of mixed Faunus, until the entire line was seated.
The guard who remained was not having it. "Do you think this is a game?"
He aimed his gun at Adam's head and pulled the trigger.
Adam raised his eyebrows.
The other man came back with his searing hot brand and stared murderously at their disobedient display. "If you all love the boy so much, you can all lose an…eye…just…like him…"
The man trailed off. Blinding a rebellious boy burned away any seditious thoughts, but the prospect of blinding his entire workforce seemed too impractical for even one as furious as him.
The gun came back up, and the barrel pressed into Adam's forehead. The first guard spoke in a calm tone, but he was clearly moments away from losing his cool. "I will shoot you dead, boy."
Adam said nothing. The power was his. He was a slave no longer.
James had been right from the start. It was illegal for the guards to use their guns on the workers without severe provocation, and that law was strictly enforced by both the military, who cared about justice, and the SDC higher ups, who cared about not having photos of dead workers airing on The Lisa Lavender Show. The laws of Atlas, though definitively looser in the work camps, still applied.
Severe provocation, Adam later learned, did include brandishing a pocketknife.
The power had only existed because they'd chosen to give it to the guards, or rather, had been tricked into surrendering it. The guards were forbidden from shooting Faunus for leaving the camp – they were technically free men and women who had chosen to work for the SDC and could exit the grounds at any time – but none of them save for Adam had ever even tried it. They could have walked out from the first day.
After Adam's little display, some cautiously tried their luck and exited through the main gates. After three individual Faunus escaped separately without any consequences, the entire camp was abandoned in minutes. The guards were furious, but none took action. Their guns were loaded, and at any time one or more could have ignored the laws prohibiting them from opening fire, but they'd known that it would land them in jail for murder if they had. Their power, the power the Schnees flaunted, only existed in the minds of those around them. The Faunus chose to take it back, and suddenly the guards were the powerless ones.
It was so infuriating that it physical hurt Adam's head. So many of the lies they'd been fed had been believed at face value. So many people had been worked to death because they were too afraid to question whether bullies would follow through on empty threats.
Adam kept the pocketknife. To him, it was just as powerful as his mother's emblem. It was the knife he'd chosen not to use. It was a reminder of the day he'd become the master of his fear, his rage, and his pain, not the other way around.
James had been telling the truth all along
Except for one thing.
There had never been a botched shipment of Dust. There was no report.
"What's the K stand for?" asked Adam, shifting in his new outfit.
"Kicking ass!" said the ten-year-old cat Faunus, wrapping her entire body around Adam's side. "I chose the name! They made it suck but I fixed it!"
She seems…excitable. Lots of little sister energy going on here. At least they didn't ask me to partner up with some human scum.
"What camp are you from?" Adam politely inquired, curious to know more about this girl he was to be working with.
"Camp? I've never been to a camp. Although I did go camping in my mansion's backyard once when I was a little kid."
"Mansion? There are Faunus who live in mansions?"
"Well, yeah. Me and my…"
Her cheery demeanor faded.
"…my parents. Actually, I guess there were Faunus who lived in mansions."
Adam knew that look. "I-I'm so sorry. Who…?"
"Sienna Khan and the White Fang."
"Then let me promise you this, Blake. I shall not rest until these humans are brought to justice."
Justice. Not vengeance. Never vengeance. I need to focus on making a better world for those of us who yet live, not righting wrongs on behalf of the dead.
"They aren't humans. Sienna is a Faunus."
Faunus who kill other…it made Adam sick to his stomach to know that the world could be so dark. He'd only survived by the camaraderie between his fellow disenfranchised. To know that there were members of his race that turned on their own kin, on their own brothers and sisters!
"Dust, that's worse than the Schnee," he snarled.
The huntress that James had assigned to watch snorted. Adam had noticed her before, but it had only been a passing glance. Upon closer inspection…that hair…
"Schnee!"
"Try not to say my name like a dirty word, Agent Taurus."
Her tone was too aloof. It pissed him off, and he took a step towards the human – no, towards the Schnee to give her a piece of his mind.
"No, it's okay Adam," said Blake, tugging on Adam's arm in the other direction desperately. "She's one of the good ones. I promise. She introduced me to Mister Ironwood. She was the one who suggested we recruit our second infiltrator from one of the refinery-mines."
"She's a Schnee. There are no 'good ones.'"
"Pleaaaaase?" said Blake. "Pretty please extra special with sprinkles and a cherry?"
"I don't know what either of those things are."
"Give her a chance?" begged Blake, making puppy dog eyes. Ironic, given her cat ears. "For me?"
"Fine. For you and James. But don't think you're getting off easy, Schnee. If you try to jump me when my back is turned, you're going down."
Schnee stiffened. "You will refer to the general by his rank."
"James? Nah, he and I go way back. We're on a first name basis. Speaking for first names…" Adam scratched his chin. "…I'd go with Wiggles."
She straightened out. "Specialist Winter Schnee."
"Hey, would you look at that? I pretty much got it right, and I didn't even know! Just add some syllables to a W, and you can't miss. Lemme guess – brother Walley and sister Wendy?"
Schnee's frosty gaze could have chilled Vacuo. "I don't like you."
Adam smirked, shooting Blake a quick wink.
"Good."
"Well, I like you," said Blake, wrapping her tiny arms around Adam's stomach. She was barely tall enough to be at eye level with his shoulders.
Adam patted the young Faunus girl. "Even better."
Omake
Adam: I'm a slave with no father.
Qui-Gon James: Would you mind if I checked your midichl-aura-ian count real quick?
Omake 2
Adam: James, huh?
Ironwood: It's general.
Adam: Oh, is it? Well, now I'm going to James you even harder!
Author's Notes
And so we finally see how Ruby was born. It's always good to get some backstory.
Happy rats, and don't do crime!
