Phoenix Rising (Book Two of The Icarus Trilogy) (43 page)

“I see you’re back,” Feldman said, not bothering to look up from staring at his feet.  He had known the boy would return, but he didn’t want to look at him yet.

“Yeah,” Jenkins said as he entered the room and walked over to the window.  He could see Earth, that husk of a planet, low in the sky.  It wouldn’t be long before Moonrise.  The young soldier turned and sat against the wall, knowing that he would need to brace himself for this conversation.

“The last time we spoke was in this room,” Feldman said, not sparing any words.  He wanted to remind Jenkins that this room was where he had lost his hope and spurned the giant.  This was where Ryan had failed him.  The young soldier knew it.  He lowered his head and set it against his forearms, which were propped up on his knees.

“How’d you know I’d come here?” Jenkins asked.  The young soldier didn’t want to look the man in the eye and instead focused on a scuff in the floor.  It seemed that the Crows had dragged the bed away instead of carrying it.

“This place has become too busy.  I knew you’d want to run away from it,” Feldman said, finally turning to look at his resurrected friend.  Jenkins was still looking at the floor, but he could feel the giant’s gaze.  He sank into himself and felt shame cloying at him.

“I wasn’t…… I was,” Jenkins said, tracing the scuff with his foot.  There was no use denying anything to the titan.  Feldman was too smart for it.

“I wasn’t going to fight in this revolution, you know,” Feldman stated.  He knew that Jenkins would understand that.  He knew that the young soldier would still be able to read between the lines.

“But then they mentioned me,” Jenkins said, considering how that conversation would have turned out.  He didn’t know how the giant felt about it, but he knew that Feldman would waste no time.

“And I still said no,” Feldman said, burning a hole into Jenkins with his stare.  As he watched the young boy, trying to absorb the fact that he was truly back, Ryan finally turned his head and looked back at the giant.

“I know.  I’m worthless to a man like you.  I gave up,” Jenkins said, admitting the truth, almost as if for the first time.  He had gotten inklings of it before, but now, talking to the paragon of a man sitting where his bed used to be, Jenkins finally understood.  He had been such a coward.

“You don’t have to be worthless, Ryan,” Feldman said, his gaze softening.  He still held hope for this child, even if he had been hurt by the reckless words of the suicidal soldier.  Jenkins turned and looked at the scuff on the floor again and shook his head.

“‘Fraid not, Feldman.  I’m not the messiah they’re painting me up to be and you know it.  I’m just a kid.  Even if I make it off planet, I’m not going to be anything special, and that’s a big ‘if.’  A large part of me wants to convince everyone to give up and maybe beg for mercy,” the young soldier said before leaning back against the wall.  Feldman’s voice almost seemed to reverberate through the walls when he replied.

“Most likely we’re going to die, but there’s something to stand for, after all.  This horrible asteroid has had its fair share of atrocities and it’s time to make humanity answer for it.  You can stand up, Ryan.  I know that’s still in you,” Feldman said, hoping that he wasn’t wasting his time again.  Jenkins didn’t move his head but instead looked at the Crow out of the corner of his eye.

“How do you know that, Greg?  You’re the great one, here.  You’re the one who told me that you shout out your character to the universe.  You’re the pillar of all that is good.  I’m just the guy who gave up.  I can’t follow your example; it’s not in me,” Jenkins said before closing his eyes.  He didn’t know why Feldman held him in such great esteem.

Jenkins opened his eyes just in time to see Feldman heaving him up.  The giant raised the boy with one arm and Ryan knew that the ceiling was only centimeters away.  He grabbed at Feldman’s arm for support, knowing that he could do nothing to the giant, and feared what was about to happen.

“Goddamnit, Ryan, do you even listen to yourself?  Do you think this behavior of mine comes naturally?  No!  I have to work at it.  We’re all base and vile creatures.  Nasty, brutish sorts like Hobbes used to say.  That’s what makes my actions worth it.  I am trying to surpass the weakness in my soul; in my very core. 
That’s
my struggle. 
That’s
my grand action.  I try to be the best I can, I try to do the most good because it is my very reason for existence.  I set my high standards so that someday I might see an ideal world.  I try to set that example.   I’m no hero.  I’m a goddamned tool for guidance,” he said before setting down his small friend.  He stood almost half a meter taller than Jenkins, but even if he stood at the same height the young soldier would have been intimidated by the man’s words.

“You told me once that most people don’t have grand moments.  They don’t have heroic struggles or reasons for existence.  They just get trampled and they die.  You said that was us.  But that has changed,” Feldman shouted, the first time he had ever shouted in Jenkins’ presence.  It was enough to shock the young soldier into giving his complete attention.  Ryan wasn’t afraid; he was completely ensnared by the giant’s words.

“You are in the completely
unique
position to release the world from tyranny, Ryan.  I’m just a soldier.  Every other Crow in this barracks, every other slave on this entire planet, will never have as much a role in this revolution as you.  You are not an unknown person who will be trampled and left to live out his days in misery, Ryan.  You get to have your grand moments and heroic struggles.  This world might be your tomb, but it could very well just be your first step.  It could be the first page in your story.  You shouldn’t look up to me, my friend,” Feldman said as he turned and headed towards the doorway.

“I have always looked for an echo for my character.  I wanted to see someone who would hold themselves to my standards.  You have the ability, Ryan, to not just be that echo.  If you just step up, you could easily surpass me.  The people
want
a hero, Ryan.  They always do,” the giant said before turning once more and looking at the newborn soldier.  “Think of the echoes
you
could create.”

Feldman turned again and lumbered out of the room.  Jenkins watched as the man departed and wondered again how the giant could exist in this society.  He was a class of man that Ryan had never seen before Eris; he was someone that Jenkins thought might never exist again.  Ryan looked down at his hands and clenched his fists.  He did not deserve the giant’s faith in him.  He was not that good of a man, but that was the struggle, after all.  Jenkins finally realized it.  He could no longer consider the possibility that he would fail; he would not let this mean nothing.  Ryan Jenkins could not let down his friend.  Not again.  If he would die, it would be in the best way possible; if he would live, it would be in the best way possible. 

Feldman would have his echo.

-

Percival repeated his father’s words in his head.  Tobias Roth had never said anything so important to him; nothing so memorable.  It had instantly shamed Percival and he knew what had happened; he had lost his way.  Percival had chosen to focus on his own ego and his own thirst for greatness and had not considered that there was no point in that kind of life.  To struggle for fame and respect was only good if it actually meant something.  It only mattered if it allowed him to do something worthwhile.

The would-be hero still held his respect for Jenkins, he still wanted to fight his inspiration, but he knew that it was only an act of selfishness, now.  He could admit that, but he felt like he could allow himself that struggle and competition.  It would let him focus on becoming better and stronger and from there, well, he could figure it out from there.

But now it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.  Roth had been watching the broadcast of
War World
, but he knew it wasn’t going anywhere.  None of those resistance movements ever made a difference.  When the signal cut out in the middle of Eric’s speech Percival didn’t really mind.  It shocked him that Eric Jones would be part of something like that, but he knew that no one was going to liberate Eris.  It just wasn’t going to happen.

Percival was starting to feel anxious and wondered what he was going to do with himself for the next two days.  He assumed that the games would halt for the time being; they had to replace Eric, after all, and nobody would want to watch the games without the commentary.  Roth and all of his teammates would just have to twiddle their thumbs.

It was a few hours after the broadcast when Roth heard the announcement.  He had been in the middle of another session of training in the shooting gallery when it came over the PA.  As the voice came over the speakers one of the holographic soldiers shot at him, but he was no longer paying attention.

“All Hammerheads to the locker room.  All Hammerheads to the locker room.  Transit to next game departing in twenty minutes.”

Roth furrowed his brow at that.  The Earth was starting to set, but they had never been called for a game this late in the night cycle.  It only served to confuse the would-be hero.  He set his fake pistol back into its place in the gun rack and set off towards the locker room.  He didn’t quite understand what was happening.

He found out quickly once he reached the locker room and started to suit up.  The metallic voice of the AI started to brief them as he and his teammates closed themselves in the power armor with the green shark plastered on their shoulders.  Each soldier’s chest was stamped with the hourglass sigil of Future Bionics, their sponsor, but Roth tried not to pay attention to that particular picture; he didn’t like to think about time on Eris.  As Roth was setting his heel against the inside his boot he listened to the briefing and almost didn’t believe his ears.

“Assault is the newest addition to game types.  Special Conditions apply.  You will attack your opponents’ home base and secure each area.  Once your opponents are eradicated, you will be declared victors and will increase in rank.  Your opponents today will be the:” the metallic voice paused, letting it become obvious that the first part of this explanation was recorded separately.

“The Crows.  Good luck,” the voice said, ending the briefing.  The others soldiers groaned at the revelation, but Roth froze on the bench.  He had not expected this; not so soon.  Percival was finally going to meet his rival on the field of battle.  It was finally going to happen and he would have to prove himself the victor.  Roth would find a way to help people after this game, but for now he was going to finally surpass his muse.

“Fuck this, they’re going to have better position the entire time,” Jackson said on the other end of the bench.  He was blond and gangly, but in the power armor he looked quite formidable, even if his neck was too skinny.  The Hammerhead shook his head and then looked over at Roth.  “You’ll be fine, Roth, but this is going to suck donkey balls.  Can’t believe this,” he said, waiting for Roth to shrug off the comment as always.  Instead he noticed that Percival was still just staring at the ground, motionless, his hands still holding his boot in place.

“Yo, Roth, what’s the deal?  You scared of the Crows?” the blond man asked, trying to get Roth to show
some
kind of reaction.  He set his right foot on the bench and jeered at the would-be hero.  “Fuck, man, you really are scared of them, aren’t you?”

Roth shook himself out of his stupor and looked at the Hammerhead.  Jackson was always the antagonist, but usually Percival didn’t mind his behavior.  He almost reminded the former Crow of his teammate Norris.  Roth stood up and grabbed at the rest of his gear and decided not to make eye contact with the blond man; he didn’t want to betray his true feelings.

“No, it’s just… I was on the Crows before I came over here,” Roth said, clasping the rest of his leg armor into place.  He could hear Jackson laughing from the other side of the bench.

“Hah, some revenge on your mind, hero?  I get it.  Well, hurry on up.  We got to get to the transport before it leaves,” Jackson said before forcing out a laugh and then turning to his own locker. 

Roth was glad that the attention had been taken from him, but he still couldn’t believe his fortune.  He didn’t think that this day would come so soon.  He wasn't sure if he was ready; it had only been two weeks since he had turned everything around.  As he assembled the rest of his armor he realized it didn’t matter.  He didn’t have a choice and neither did Jenkins.  They would no longer stand alone and apart from each other.  It was time for them to meet as rivals; it was time for them to meet as opponents. 

It was time to see who would become the hero.

Carver took a deep breath as he stared at the featureless white door in front of him.  He had no idea what to expect on the other side; he had given Roberts free reign with his tormentor of four years.  The boy soldier was a good kid and a decent soldier, but it was impossible to know what depths he might go to in revenge.  Carver cleared his throat and clenched his right fist before turning the door handle with his left.  He would just have to get it over with.

Roberts was sitting on the stool when Carver entered, turning slightly to see the visitor.  The boy soldier looked over his shoulder and grunted as he recognized the old man’s presence.  He waved his hand lazily before turning back to the piece of work occupying his time.  Carver followed the boy’s turn and looked at the wreckage of a man lying on the medical table.

Hawkins was in quite a state, to say the least.  Roberts had begun in earnest and as Carver tried to take in the details his stomach turned.  The scientist was missing a few fingers and when the veteran looked towards Hawkins’ face, he noticed the pudgy man had somehow lost his front teeth.  Carver winced at the sight but continued forward.  He had to see what Roberts had done; the depths to which the boy had fallen.