The recruits stood stoically in parade rest, capsules held behind their backs at its base. The cyborg glanced to his left, then to his right. He could see tiny sediments of dirt and rock drifting in the water of the capsules around him, slowly settling to the bottom. He returned his attention to the front. Being the first in his column, he stood right before the machine. It reflected light into his eyes, and seemed to loom larger than before.
"Shimada!"
Startled, the cyborg glanced at the commander.
"Pay attention. Did you not hear what I said? I repeat myself: step forward and deliver your capsule to the machine."
With a lump in his throat, Genji stepped forward, bringing his capsule in front of him. Foreign material whirled within, spurred by the sudden movement. He tried swallowing to alleviate the discomfort in his throat to no avail.
His heart thundered against the metal cage of his chest, as the sediments slowly settled in the statue-like cradle of his hands. No one would ever know, he thought, I would get through this. I would pass the test. I can stay. No one would ever know whether this water is truly the elixir, it wouldn't matter to me. It shouldn't matter to me. He gulped, and grit his teeth. So why do I feel this way?
A dozen voices burst into his thoughts.
…used to treat chronic illnesses … in your mind, everything's over, isn't it? … I'll fill them up, we're running out of time! … we will pass … the least we deserve … answer me! Answer me, Genji—
"—Shimada!"
Ripped from his reverie once again, Genji glanced up to the impatient visage of the commander.
"Everyone is waiting for you," he grunted, "what is your malfunction?"
Snickers behind him. He looked around. All eyes were trained on him. Again, he swallowed. Again, it didn't help.
His mind went blank. His vision swimming, he apathetically raised the capsule to slot it into the machine. The capsule made a soft clink as it touched the metal lip. All he had to do now was to release the capsule. A simple relaxing of his hand, an effortless undertaking of unfurling his fingers. Yet, his hand stayed raised, his fingers frozen. Genji felt his heart sink. He closed his eyes. I cannot do it.
"I cannot do it," he said hollowly.
The commander stared at him critically for a second, then leaned into the radio on his shoulder. "Strike commander to mobile echo, dispatch regicide response team for possible suit malfunction at—"
"No! I mean—I will not do it."
Not taking his eyes off the cyborg, he added, "cancel request. Response to remain at post, over and out." When a tinny voice acknowledged the command, the commander cleared his throat. "So which is it? You can't or you won't?"
"I won't, sir."
"And why not?"
"Because this water – he held up the capsule – is not the elixir."
The cyborg expected it to end there. He felt utterly ashamed—he couldn't even bring himself to look up from the floor. Unfortunately, there was more.
"How can you be sure?" the commander pressed, "insert it into the machine—it will access it."
Genji's breath caught in his throat. The voice of Ryan echoed in his mind, it's broken!
"It's—" Genji stopped himself. Wait, he thought, do I really have a right to divulge that it is broken? Is it my information to share?
There were others behind him who too carry contaminated water, but was it his place to make his decision for them? What if they all failed? What if it cost the career of the engineer who told them it was broken in the first place? What about Ryan? Genji was personally opposed to contaminating the water, and though he wouldn't want to see anyone else do it either, would it be selfish for him to single-handedly put an end to the test?
Commander Morrison raised an eyebrow. "It's…?"
Genji inhaled sharply—he had forgotten to breathe. The room was completely silent. His ears rang. After a long moment, the cyborg made his decision. The lump in this throat disappeared, and he relaxed as he found himself in a strange state of cathartic resignation.
Purposefully opening the lid to his capsule, Genji overturned it and let the contents spill onto the floor.
An extremely long and uneasy silence hung in the air. If the commander was furious, he certainly didn't show it. His expression remained the same. The only indication that he was affected at all was that he was frozen in place, with his arms crossed. The silence dragged on. Genji fought the urge to squirm, and wished he could melt into the floor, joining the liquid which was slowly creeping outwards.
"Do you think this is a joke?" he finally whispered.
This is it, Genji thought, this is the start of where it may all end. Though disappointed, he felt no trace of regret. He opened his mouth to answer—
A splash sounded behind him, followed by dripping. Everyone turned around. At the back, Will stood with an empty, overturned capsule in front of him, the ground before him wet. Genji's eyes widened.
Another splash, to his left this time. Before anyone could turn, there was one more. Soon, it was impossible to tell how many. The sound of water being discarded overlapped each other, a continuous stream which stained the ground, until almost every capsule was empty.
"Explain yourselves," the commander said quietly, after the last capsule was emptied.
The room stayed silent. Relentless was the wind against the walls of the tent, snapping it back and forth against the white ropes tied down to the gleaming steel frame. Cracks of thunder sounded mute in the resolute silence, a vigil which no recruit had the inclination of interrupting.
"So be it," he acknowledged to the silence in a voice seemingly devoid of emotion. "Anyone who still has a filled capsule, step forward now to turn it in."
Genji's heart dropped.
Boots shuffled against the ground as a few recruits slipped between bodies to reach the front. Genji could see it: capsules filled with green, translucent water. There was even a dead bug drifting in one of them as the water sloshed within. He felt sick. Can I let this happen? Will I be responsible if I know the truth, and allow them to turn it in? It will not just be my future! Can I force their hands to stay?
The first in line raised his capsule. Time seemed to slow to a crawl for Genji as its tip touched the chrome lip of the machine's receiver.
Should I? He grit his teeth. His heart seemed to beat right in his throat. I do not have to. I can stay silent. It is their own decision, after all. Who am I to interfere? Yes, that's it. I won't do it. I will not say a word. I won't—
The capsule was halfway into the machine.
"Stop!" Genji heard himself exclaim.
Everything froze.
"What is it this time, Shimada?" the commander asked, enunciating each word slowly.
"Y-you can't," he pleaded, looking into the blank, yellow eyes of the soldier.
"Why not?" he shot back, apathetically.
The first embers of anger burned within the cyborg. "You know why," he whispered through gritted teeth.
"This will be the last time I repeat myself, Shimada," the commander said firmly, "if you have something to say, spit it out, before I throw you out."
The recruit smiled dryly. "Well, do you? You sure you have something to say?"
Genji's breath caught in this throat. He simply couldn't believe it. How could a person be so callous? The man steadily held his gaze, not a trace of remorse, not a sliver of hesitation. His eyes were empty, mind-numbingly indifferent. He looked like he could yawn. Genji knew he would need to choose his next words very carefully. Taking a deep breath, he waited for his heart to steady. Then he looked up to the commander. "I am one man."
"One man," he repeated, "with a life which feels like it has barely started. Being so, I understand that there are still many things for me yet to learn about this world, but there are things which I do know. Things like care, selflessness, sacrifice… kindness, suffering, and pain.
"The water that was in my capsule was not the elixir. I… do not know if the machine would accept it or not, but the risk isn't worth the attempt, when I know it to be not the right one." He bowed his head. "I have failed, sir, failed to find the elixir. I am filled with regret because maybe I could have tried harder to find it, and even more so ashamed to have to admit as so, but it is an insignificant, selfish burden I will—no, must carry, for it is better than the alternative; one where I offer the machine a chance to accept contaminated water into its reservoir, in a feeble… a contemptable attempt to preserve a journey I still wish to pursue, where in its success I will only do harm to other people. Other people, who would not deserve it, just to save one man."
"Look at you," the soldier with the yellow eyes sneered, "how I marvel your nobility. What is worth this heroic pretense you've conjured for yourself, a proclaimed care for others you don't even know, if you won't be around to see it through? Are you willfully arrogant, or hopelessly ignorant?"
"Neither," the cyborg almost snarled. He shook to keep his voice under control. "I expect nothing. I am simply explaining myself, in a hope which seems increasingly vain to me to keep you from dropping that filthy water into the machine."
"A hope," he repeated condescendingly, "which you are right to refer to as vain. After all, the point of this thing – he rapped his knuckles against the machine – is to access the water, is it not? Why then do you care about my decision in this regard?"
Genji almost took a step back. He felt as if he had been punched in the gut, the wind knocked out of him. What is wrong with him? he thought in his frustration, does he actually want me to say it?
He smiled tauntingly, waiting for a reply. Genji glanced up at the commander. His brows were furrowed as he leaned against the podium. He was waiting for the same thing. Looking around him, he found no help. Everyone else was avoiding eye contact.
"Like I have said before," he began slowly, "my life feels like it has barely started. I don't know where I stand and where I should go, a conundrum which precedes the one where I am fumbling for a lantern so I could at least see my hands in front of my face. But I have just confirmed something about this, just now."
Genji stared deep into the unflinching eyes of the soldier. He heard the sound of breaking glass and fragments colliding with the floor as something in his hand gave when he clenched his fist. "I will carry no lantern fueled with the oils of deceit bought—" he spat the word, "—with the currency of lies and indifference. You ask me why I care about your decision. I do because I felt as if I could change it, allow you a perspective on your way. I see now that it is impossible.
If to you, nobility and heroic pretense is one and the same, it would become clear to me there is not one shred of decency within you, not a tiny measure of honor. So make your decision, but know that you will be responsible for it, and not me, because I have done all I could. You will answer to the sick and their families, and you will discover then if any sophistry of care, selflessness, sacrifice, kindness, suffering, or pain will do anything to soothe them. You, and not me.
"And if that makes me arrogant, or ignorant, I pray that I remain so even if I am fumbling blind for another lantern for the rest of my life."
Without waiting for a response, the cyborg stormed out of the tent, pulling open its flap in a violent flourish to join the tempest raging outside.
Author's notes
It has really been quite a while. I've had a lot going on with my life, and I apologize for the unannounced hiatus. Sad to say, it might not end any time soon. I've going through some stuff right now, and though it's getting easier, I have a feeling that I'm just coming up for a brief breath of air before I go back down under. That, and on top of work, I think I'll really have 2018 cut out for me. I'll try to keep optimistic, but I want to let you know that I'm not done with Genji yet. It might take a little longer, but bear with me, if you would care to. :)
With that said, I say again that I appreciate every one of you that made it to this note for this chapter. I really do. Yes, I mean you. Thank you for sticking with me, and with Genji. I'll see you in the next one, and remember, you don't have to go easy on me on the reviews. If you have anything to add or comment about, anything at all, just stick it in there. It'll make my day.
Stay tuned.