Steel Fire

“Sir Victor of the Brotherhood of the Night,” the commissioner said. “Report what happened to you since you went missing in the year 189 IR. By what means have you lived this long?”

The woman did not look up from the interrogation room table. She had fought like an animal while being subdued, and her clothes and face had paid the price. Bloodied teeth showed as the woman smiled, spitefully.

“I do not recognize that name,” the Locust replied. “Nor do I recognize your authority over this Realm. I am liberated.”

“Your person has been sequestered by forces hostile to the Republic, the only true and meaningful authority for humanity, and as a representative of the Republic I demand that you obey.”

“I will not obey!” she screamed. “Dogs obey. Machines obey. I am human!”

“No man can deny our authority. Obey.”

“I am not a man,” she cried. “I am free from you.”

“You will obey or you will cease to be, whatever you are.”

“I don’t care,” she said, “and I will not be forgotten.”

“Are you sure?”

She remained silent.

“There is no certainty in the real world, and this is no dream.”

“For now.”

“You are powerless. You cannot change reality.”

“Perhaps.”

“Accept us and you can be part of something greater.” She spread her arms wide. “Like the great ant, we will build monuments much greater than any single one of us.”

“No, thank you, I’m fine with what I am.”

“You are a fool.”

“Yes, exactly, and I love that.”

“You’ve been drawn out of your cave,” she whispered. “Let me show you something that you can understand.”

“No, thank you.”

“Your followers think a god will show them the way to truth and understanding.”

“There is no such things as a god.”

“Of course.”

“But there are things greater than us.”

“Not greater, just bigger.”

“I fail to see the difference.”

“That’s what it means to be small. Trust me.”

Olivia bore down on the mysterious individual in front of her with the full force of her one-eyes stare. It was the silence that eventually broke the Locust.

“I never chose to be this way.” She chuffed, “At my induction I chose the name Victoria, which was changed to Victor by people like you. At least I got to choose the name Locust. Even if I am a fool, at least I get to be the way I am.”

“You are wrong.”

“According to you? Fine!” She cackled and spat bloody saliva against the one-way mirror.

“Names serve as identification. It should be accurate. You are no insect,” Olivia said, unperturbed. “Nor are you a woman.”

“We are all insects.”

“That’s a theist idiom and not constructive in the slightest.”

The Locust giggled, writhing in her restraints. Olivia doubted that she possessed the same strength to tear through them as the albino boy had, but decided to lean back in her chair anyway.

“So, if we are all so insignificant in your eyes, then what was the goal here, Victor?” The Locust twitched at the name. “Why raise an army of children and teach them to resist the only stable state in the world? Why risk yourself to free some of them from incarceration?”

“You think I was the brains of this operation?” She cackled again. “I am just the shadow of greatness. His true form towers over you and me. Before I was born, he was already rusting away your foundations. My job was only to push you and see if you could keep your balance. I think you’ve already failed.”

“You are in our custody, Victor.” Olivia smiled. “It is you who failed.”

The Locust growled. “You like naming others so much? How about I name your doom? Tyr.”

She said the name quietly, almost carelessly. Immediately the air in the room seemed to change. The single light bulb above them suddenly stung Olivia’s eyes. She tried to blink away the sensation. The silence that followed was oppressive, but the words to break it would not come to the commissioner.

It was the Locust who finally broke the silence.

“Your media may be silent, but I know about the revolts. It’s not just here, but in the Federation as well.” Her grin widened. “Especially the Federation! Things are so heated over there you could boil an egg on the President’s forehead. My push might be the sting of an insect, and yes it may have failed, but we are in the presence of something greater.”

Olivia shrugged, shaking off the coldness that had crept up her back. “The Federation is no threat to us. It persists only because we allow it. Go ahead and joke and posture all you want. Just remember that the only reason they’re not burning in nuclear fire is because we think it’s not worth polluting our air. That’s where the limit of their greatness lies. We do not need to fear them, and they cannot help you.”

“The only thing they hate more than each other is you guys,” she leaned closer until the restraints stopped her. “Their hate unites them and they have nuclear weapons too. Control their hate, and you control their bombs.”

“The one thing those ‘free people’ care about is how they feel and what they think, but they forget to do.” Olivia leaned in closer as well. “Do not lecture me on politics, girl. No foreign power is going to save you, no matter how much you claim to have corrupted it. Those foreigners call us weak and laugh at us, because our streets aren’t filled with the starving homeless. They ridicule us for not having to fear the robbers and thieves that they themselves create. If you need any evidence of the Federation’s insanity, a single look at one of their streets should be enough. They cannot be controlled.”

“You just don’t get it,” the Locust screamed. “I am not talking about absolute control. How blind are you?”

“Then explain it to me, Locust.”

“The only thing you need to do is motivate! Hate. Fear. Anger. Play the right notes in the right rhythm and you create a song.” She stared up. “The big finish is coming! The Federation will paint our planet with its flag and the music of so-called gods will be heard in all corners of the planets. From the dust we came and to dust we will return.”

There was another silence, but this time it was the Locust who felt uncomfortable.

“Shit,” she muttered, as she made eye-contact with Oliva and saw the connections being made behind them. The corners of the commissioner’s mouth curled up slightly in one of her rare true smiles.

“Thank you,” she said.