The collaborator's burden
Spider was inside his apartment, examining a pile of papers in front of him. A cup of coffee substitute was within arm's reach. The TV on the wall to his left was on, a news broadcast in progress. His attention remained on the papers though, subconsciously tuning out the voices of the reporters.
Seleyni's math scores were up from the last test, but still not where he thought he would want them to be. He would have to speak with her to arrange for possible extra tutoring.
After the first few aimless weeks since his return to Bridgehead he had unexpectedly been summoned by Ardmore and Stringer. He had learned he RDA had lifted a number of Na'vi children from raids on Metkayina villages, and they had now decided to put him to work. With chilling politeness the general had laid out her terms: If he made himself useful in making those children into productive citizens, she would allow them and him their lives. Otherwise she would *take the necessary steps to ensure the security of RDA colonial assets and interests.*
In the face of such an ultimatum he had dared not refuse.
In the beginning he had been used as translator. Not only did he know the Na'vi language, but he also had an understanding of both cultures. He had been able to apply that knowledge to smooth things over with the children, helping to calm then while ensuring they understood and obeyed the commands given to them. It had worked the other way too, as he had been able to explain things to their human captors (those who listened at any rate), avoiding incidents over simple misunderstandings.
Those early days had been among the most difficult, the children brought in terrified, having witnessed terrible violence and separated from their parents, surrounded by unfamiliar sights, sounds and people. In many cases he ended up being an ad hoc counsellor and a surrogate parent to many of those children. Something that had certainly persisted to in these later years. And as the raids had continued, more and more Na'vi children had been left in their care, adding to his burdens. It had been far from easy, but he had done all he could.
Later on the RDA had gotten to work on their reeducation, starting with teaching them a grasp of English. He had been present there too, assisting classes. Very few teachers had been present at that point in the colony's development, and even fewer knew Na'vi enough to make the children understand. A few more enterprising teachers had asked him to teach them Na'vi. But most seemed to prefer the other way around. The Na'vi language was just one more thing the Sky People were hoping these kids would give up on and forget about.
His heart had been heavy, disgusted at being forced to take part in this. But remembering the alternative he had still cooperated. The more time that passed the more he came to realize it was his duty now to keep these kids safe and sound, by any means necessary. Even if it meant playing along in this atrocity. All the same, he had vowed to himself he'd find some ways to preserve the identity and culture of these kids. If he couldn't prevent the damage he could at least mitigate it, to make sure not all would be lost. He would just have to take care not to provoke a response from the RDA.
As he had been assisting the classes over the years he had been receiving training of his own. By now he had joined the ranks of the teachers fully, educating classes of students. He had many colleagues doing the same of course, but the way he heard it *Mr. Socorro* was something of a favorite teacher among the Na'vi kids.
Technically he was still considered a prisoner, to be kept under guard. He could say technically because for most guards it was an exchange of good mornings near the coffee dispenser before both parties went on their separate ways for the rest of the day. Corporate negligence and years of no clear threat from him did have its perks. And he had gained a lot of trust over the years, giving him greater freedom of movement and less suspicion. Hell, he was even getting paid by the RDA for his employment. Money was not something he valued overmuch, but it did show how much his status had changed.
He would have never thought himself to be the bookish type, and in truth he wasn't. But all the same this was his life now. Teaching. Sitting through meetings, planning classes. Taking the time to help the kids with topics they struggled with. Or as now, grading their tests.
Along the way he had kept up his promise to try and keep the reeducation from completely stripping away the roots of these children. In secret he taught them what he knew of the Na'vi culture and customs filling in the blanks of things they had forgotten or had never had the time to learn about. More than a few of his students had their own songcord hidden away somewhere. And through him they learned of Eywa and what she meant to their people. His knowledge was from the Omatikaya rather than the Metkayina, but he figured something was better than nothing.
He had also taught the kids to hide themselves, taught them ways to resist their reprogramming without giving themselves away. He had steered the more openly rebellious into being sneaky and subtle to avoid being shut down by Ardmore and her goons, helping them understand the need for secrecy. He understood the need to push back, but also knew pushing too hard would undo them all.
He had been reunited with Ian Garvin during his time here. After the last time he had quit his job in the RDA hunting fleet, shifting his focus to cataloguing and studying various life forms living on Pandora's shore waters. A job that according to him was far less well paid and financed, since the company had yet to devise ways to turn a profit from those creatures. But all the same he seemed to be happier to be away from the ugly business of Tulkun hunting. Since Spider was now old enough to drink, they often did so when they were off duty, contemplating their lot in life. Garvin understood his goals, and seemed to approve of them. And he knew how hard it could be to try to do the right thing while trapped within the system. Spider was rather sure he was someone that could be trusted.
Along the way they had hit upon their idea of so called *school trips*. He and those of his students most eager to learn of their heritage had gone with Garvin when he went to do his research. Ostensibly the kids were Garvin's research assistants, learning how to do field work and analysis, so one day they could be researchers in their own right. It had proven sufficient to ward off suspicion. Once there at the shores of the sea Garvin could teach them about local wildlife, while Spider could show the kids survival techniques and Na'vi customs in an appropriate environment. There was something very ironic about it. That two humans knew Pandora and the Na'vi better than the actual Na'vi that came with them.
The results of his efforts had been… mixed. Some had embraced the chance to remember the people they had come from. But with others the balance had been tipped in favor of the Sky People, embracing that world instead. When he tried to teach them of their true origins they were scornful and dismissive, favoring an existence of buildings and machines, the comforts and ease offered by technology. The more time passed the more those kids seemed like very tall, very blue Sky People. He just hoped they would not decide to turn him in one of these days. The most heartbreaking cases were the youngest, those who had yet to form a clear Na'vi identity to begin with. It was far too easy for the Sky People to fill that void with what they wanted. And a lot harder for him to counteract.
And the most insidious thing of all… was that the kids who were receptive to reeducation were finding some acceptance. There were racists and manipulative creeps among the Sky People, certainly. But there were also those who accommodated the kids that were willing to integrate, treating them as equals. Those latter people were ultimately a bigger problem for Spider and his objectives. Their friendly manner might well be coming from an honest place, but it ultimately further distanced the kids from their roots.
As much as he would have wanted to deny it, the years spent at Bridgehead had changed him too. He wore the clothes of the Sky People now, in an effort to fit in. Gone were also the blue stripes he had liked to paint on his body. He mostly didn't go by the name of Spider anymore, though it was still the one he preferred. His dreadlocks were perhaps the only remainder of his younger days. And such changes were just the surface ultimately.
He had tried to resist it at first, but he had ended up making friends with some of the humans here. Ian was the first of these, but others had followed. Mostly his fellow teachers, but shockingly even some of the guards assigned to watch over him. In the process… he had begun to understand them. To See them. Their lives were very different from those of the clans, but in so many ways he had been shocked to discover how… normal a lot of these people were. Of course they had their share of assholes, and more than a few of those. But many others were just trying to live their lives the only ways they knew how, doing their best to survive under the corporate stranglehold imposed upon them.
While still living with the Na'vi and the Resistance he had often been mystified by the indifference of the humans they opposed. How they could just ignore the beauty around them and plough over it in pursuit of their objectives. But he had started to gain some perspective on this. These people were like insects tending to a hive, so caught up in their tasks and their own little worlds the big picture was overlooked. Often this seemed to be by design. Many seemed convinced they could not change the way things were, so they abided by it and continued on with their daily lives. Atrocities committed by others, when they were heard about, were relished by some and ignored by the rest because they happened elsewhere and complaining only brought trouble. So much easier to just put it out of their minds and pretend it wasn't happening.
Some days… even he forgot. It was difficult to keep the greater struggles in mind when there was always another job to do or meeting to attend. And difficult to remember these people were supposed to be his enemy when he genuinely liked some of them. It was a surprisingly tempting idea to submerge himself beneath endless routines and mundane worries, let them carry him away from the horrors that had brought him here. If not for the task he had appointed to himself, he might have well lost himself.
Nothing embodied his complicated situation better than his relationship with Quaritch. They did meet now and then, mostly at Quaritch's initiative. Those meetings tended to be… massively awkward, to say the least. He knew he should hate him. Wanted to. And when he remembered the things he had done to the Na'vi during his two lifetimes, to the Sully family in particular… in those moments he really did hate him. But on the other hand he could see that he truly wished to be his father. And some days… it was damn hard not to respond to it. Having confusing feelings about the person who both was and was not his father was certainly something he had become accustomed to.
As they often did, his thoughts briefly turned to Kiri and the others. Hoping they were still alive out there, wondering how they were doing. It had been very long six years apart from them, and news about them was not something he could get on the grapevine. He wondered how they would react if they saw him now. Would they understand the difficult situation he had been put in, the kind of dilemmas he had to grapple with? Could they understand what he was trying to protect in his own way? Or would they only see the surface, see a traitor that had sold them out?
The thought of it caused him to sigh heavily.
He continued grading the tests, thinking of all these things when his ears caught a snippet of the news:
"We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you the following headline: We just received word that a possible attack by Na'vi insurgents may have taken place at supply depot number 23. All contact with the site has been lost and the situation is still being clarified, but we have received confirmation that an armed response force is being scrambled to investigate and contain the situation. We ask that you remain calm, and we will continue to update this story as the get new information. I repeat, moments ago…"
And just like that his task had been forgotten.
"Site 23… Ilsa!" He breathed, jumping to his feet and rushing to the door of his apartment. In his rush he knocked over his coffee cup, causing it to shatter on the floor. He did not even notice it happen in his hurry.