Steel Fire

Frederick Rojo, also known as Friedrich, was 15 years old and pissed off. As a baby he had been carried out of City 84 and brought to the Rojo farm, and he had hated every passing moment since. Not a day went by without somebody receiving a beating in the household. In the beginning, it had mostly been Frederick, but as he grew older and growth spurt followed upon growth spurt, the tables had turned. Sometimes the house resembled more a battlefield than a home, and the blame was always on Frederick. Some in the village even attributed the scouring of City 84 to him, calling him ‘cursed’. Frederick cared little for superstitions of small people in small villages. In every test of intelligence and athleticism he excelled, and the only reason he hadn’t been invited to the Academy was that he had been caught stealing and fighting too many times. It hardly mattered. There were careers to be made in the military or the sciences. All he had to do was finish his secondary education and apply.

Frederick was a genius among simpletons and he would beat it into them at every opportunity, either physically or verbally. The teachers detested his disruptive presence in the classroom, but couldn’t help giving him perfect marks on every test. Investigators were called in multiple times to catch him cheating, but they failed every time because he didn’t need to cheat. He drew the envy of his classmates, and eventually they learned to jump him only with overwhelming numbers. His bones healed quickly though, and revenge tasted sweet. Contact with regulators and Enforcement became less frequent as he learned how to deal with them. Eventually, he also learned how to tie people to himself and keep them where he wanted them, even if it was only to avoid overwhelming odds. All of his relationships were merely functional until he met her.

From the first day he knew her, he was fond of her in a way that he had never been before. She was innocent and kind, but also courageous and wise, in a way that no other human being he knew was. Even the texts of the great Philosopher-Kings failed to mention what he saw in her, and so words failed him in describing it. There was a challenge in her that he hadn’t known existed. Sometimes he felt like asking her what spell she had cast on him, but he didn’t want to entertain such childish questions. He restrained himself completely. The beast inside was caged as he attempted to win her love. Like the beast had always done, it cried out for blood and satisfaction, but something gave him the power to delay gratification now. Where once he pounced, now he stalked. Where once he gorged himself, now he hid his bounty and waited. She taught him patience, and for the first time in his life he was afraid; afraid to lose her.

Instead of spending his weekends back with his own family, he would spend it with hers instead. The Rojo’s didn’t seem to mind. The Nemes family welcomed him with open arms and he did not know how to react to that. Awkwardly, he accepted their hugs. Desperately, he tried to answer their questions in a way that wouldn’t show disappointment on their faces. None of his lies seemed to satisfy them.

“How have your adoptive parents been?”

“They are proud of my academic accomplishments.”

The truth would have made the worry.

“What about your brothers and sisters?”

“They flourish without my help.”

Their looks of sympathy sickened him. He was not weak, so he didn’t need it.

“Maria likes having you around, I can tell.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The food was delicious even if it was simple. There was no fighting during the family gatherings. It felt like he was part of some strange play when he was around them, and no matter how much he studied his lines he always got them wrong. Rejection didn’t follow though, to his surprise. Maria would just touch his arm, or give him a playful push, while the rest of the family smiled at them. It was unreal. He wanted to ask them how their world could be like this, but it felt like asking too many questions would make him awaken from the dream. Every movement and word felt like it could tip a delicate balance over an edge. Somebody like him, he deeply believed, could ruin all of this so easily.

“What do you see in me, I wonder,” he asked her one night, while they were looking at the stars above the Nemes farm, sitting back-to-back. There was a dark spot in the sky that neither of them found upsetting.

“I see what you cannot,” she said. “You are worth reaching out to, even if you believe the opposite. Maybe that’s just the reason why you are here.”

“People like me can’t make places like this,” he said, and leaned back to put the back of his head against hers. “The only thing I can make is a war zone.”

“That’s not true. You know so much. Surely there’s something else in that head of yours.”

“There’s lots of stuff,” he chuckled. “All of which I will use to hurt others.”

She remained quiet for a few minutes. “You know how a phonograph works. It’s hard to to hurt anyone with that.”

“Really?” He sat up straight, causing her to slide past him and onto the ground. She just looked at him, smiling, until she noticed the frown.

“What?”

“You don’t know?” He shook his head. “Music contain messages. It makes us feel things that we wouldn’t feel otherwise, or strengthens something until we can’t ignore it anymore. I can imagine few weapons as powerful as that.”

“Are you serious?” She continued smiling. He smiled back.

“Seems I can see something that you cannot either,” he said, and laid down next to her. Their hands found each other instinctively. “Music is more powerful than words, and you are more powerful to me than either.”

“I don’t like to think of myself as powerful.”

“Well,” he said, and chuckled again. “There’s only one of you, and there is a lot more music and even more words.”

“Sometime I wish I could be strong like you, ” Maria whispered after another period of comfortable silence. “I want to fight for what is right, and make people feel safe.”

“Do I make you feel safe?”

“Yes.”

His grip on her hand tightened.

Burning lights pierced his eyes while a cacophony of screaming forced its way into his ears. The world was on fire. His limbs felt heavy, his movement were lethargic and he couldn’t get his body to do what he wanted it to. He couldn’t breath. Pressure on his chest made it feel like he was going to burst. Something hairy with claws crawled inside his mouth and down his throat, chirping as it moved ever deeper into his body. Somebody called his name, his true name, and he desperately scrambled for the sound. Maria looked at him with her perfect eyes, a disembodied face in a roiling mass of pain and confusion that had consumed the world. She smiled sweetly. He reached out to her. His fingers broke her cheek bones, his nails tore away skin. It felt like his own skin being torn away. Panicking, he tried to push the skin back into place on Maria’s face, but his fingers dug only deeper. When he tried to withdraw his hand he ripped open her skull. Frozen with horror, he studied the compartments of her nasal cavity in perfect anatomical detail. Tears filled his eyes as something tore up his insides. Slowly, real light came in from the sides of his vision and he could see Maria’s face again, restored.

“You were stirring in your sleep,” she said, cradling his face with her hands. The stars shone down on him from behind her.

He smiled. “Nightmare. I was failing my exams while naked.”

He moved his hand up to touch her face, but stopped. She bent down to plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Exams are still months away,” she said, and stood up. She offered her hand and pulled him on his feet. “Come on, we have to get back.”

He wanted to tell her. He wanted to share his fears, but knew that it would only drive her away. For a moment, he considered sharing his feelings with somebody else, but the thought was quickly thrown aside. What would they offer him but useless platitudes? What would he be handing them except another means to hurt him? No, nobody else was safe. Maria was the only one worth trusting.

The concert was fast approaching. As the news spread in the underground channels of the school, regulator presence increased in the hallways, but the usual network of snitches and traitors failed them this time. One boy, a burly third-year with ambitions for joining Enforcement, was found dead in the river after a week of increased crack-downs. The death was ruled an accident, but nobody could explain why he was found dressed in the now banned black jacket and goggles. Only delinquents wore those.