Mask of Humanity

Nicolai awoke to a painful throbbing radiating from the back of his skull, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Alongside that were various sharp, burning aches in his side where he’d been shot. His ears were immediately assaulted by the sound of an argument, multiple voices.

For now, he ignored them. This was not Nicolai’s first time waking up, badly injured, likely restrained, and surrounded by enemies. Far from it.

He kept his eyes closed.

He breathed slow.

He didn’t move.

He allowed himself to settle into his body, testing at what he felt. His arms were behind him. He gently, slowly pulled at his hands and found them tightly bound. There was something wrapped around his leg and his midsection. That and the fact that he was alive told him they’d bandaged his wounds and stopped the bleeding, but they hadn’t done more than that. Even so, with his wounds bound just the passing of time had been good for him, and he felt his energy returning.

The glove and the rings were gone from his hand, except the Blood Bite which he imagined they had struggled to remove. Likewise there was a weight missing over his chest; the Swollen Eye amulet was gone. From what he felt, it seemed he no longer wore anything but his rags, the bandages, the band around his neck, and the Blood Bite Ring.

Most important of all, he couldn’t locate his Seed, which made his body want to jerk with mad fear and rage, to open his eyes and roar to his feet and rip the bindings off and lay about himself… but Nicolai knew that for now, he needed to take his time, slow and steady.

He focused on his ears and listened.

‘I should have it! You still have yours! This is my only chance!’ a voice was saying, a man with an annoying whine to his voice.

‘You practically threw yours away. We told you not to fuck around with it. Why should you get it, just because you were an idiot?’ This was a woman, young, perhaps a teenager. ‘If anything, you’re the last person who should get it.’

‘You want the flying ring, don’t you? You can’t have both! If you get the ring, I get the Seed!’ the man again.

‘It’s not up to the two of you. It’s up to John.’ A different woman.

‘Well? John?’ The man.

‘We probably ought to split it, if we do decide to keep it,’ said a new voice, another man.

‘Split it! You don’t even know that’s possible! I should have it!’ The whining man again.

‘What about him? We don’t know he’s Chosen. Maybe he could help us.’ A third man, this one sounding older than the others.

‘Then how’d he get the shimmer coat? Only the Chosen have access to the Trade Link.’ Another new person—another woman; older. Nicolai was beginning to lose track. There were clearly quite a few of them.

They were debating what to do with all of his things. The darkness was writhing inside of him, eager to erupt, something he was currently amenable to. They’d clubbed him on the head and stolen what was his and that meant that they would die.

But he was tied up. Need to be calm. Be reasonable. At least until I get these ties off. The darkness whispered sullen agreement.

Nicolai dropped his act. He opened his eyes and looked around. He found himself sitting against the wall in the corner of a room. His hands, behind his back, were out of view of the people before him. That in mind, he started feeling more seriously at the binds, working out what they were and how he might get them off, while his eyes scanned over the people and things in the room around him, taking it all in.

Bodies, faces, weapons, tools, supplies, and his possessions, now in their hands.

‘He’s awake.’ This was a new voice, and Nicolai glanced at a young man who was pointing a finger at him. He was familiar looking. Nicolai frowned, and scanned the lot of them again as they all stared at him, another shock of recognition going through him.

These were the people who’d been under attack by the Chosen a week or perhaps two weeks ago. His sense of time was a little fuzzy. He’d come from behind, full of madness, killed the Chosen, and this group had gotten free. The darkness had wanted to kill them, too.

With all the blood that had covered him, it was understandable that they didn’t recognise him. I can use this. Perhaps they didn’t need to die. Perhaps an agreement could be made.

The darkness squirmed, reaching through him and tensing his muscles, and the fact that they had stolen his things, his Seed, was hauled to the front of his mind and presented as justification for death. My Seed, not yours, Nicolai thought to the vicious urges within him. Our Seed, they hissed back.

‘Well, then,’ said a man, drawing Nicolai’s gaze. This was the big man he remembered, their leader who’d wielded an equally big sword, who now moved in front of the rest to fold his arms and look down at Nicolai who stared back up. The big man had Nicolai’s submachine-gun hanging from its strap over his chest, and he wore Nicolai’s glove.

He wants to know who I am.

Time to start acting.

Nicolai populated his blank face with emotion, showing some pain and unease and hesitant hope. He made a show of looking over his body, glancing at the bandages.

‘Thank you for treating my wounds,’ he said, though they’d done no more than stop the bleeding. He summoned up a grateful smile regardless.

‘More than you deserve, Chosen,’ snapped a tall, pale man with a kind of corporate lawyer look; messy black hair that Nicolai could easily imagine being slicked back when the man had been on earth. This was the man with the whiny voice.

‘I’m not one of them.’ Nicolai scowled at him as though offended by the very idea. ‘They’re the bastards who shot me.’ Then he frowned at all of them, as though suddenly recognising them. ‘I know you… I helped you guys out, a while back.’

The big man, John presumably, quirked an eyebrow down at him. ‘How’s that?’

‘Maybe a week or two ago. You were stuck in that room up the stairs, the Chosen hemming you in. I’m the one who came up behind and killed them.’

One of the young men took a few steps forward, staring and frowning quizzically at Nicolai. ‘Hey… it could be him! Similar haircut. Hard to tell, there was a lot of blood.’ Nicolai stared back, meeting the boy’s eyes, which widened as he stepped back. ‘Shit. I think it’s him.’ For some reason the boy had turned a little pale and his throat was working as he swallowed. Afraid?

During this Nicolai had been counting them and taking in the room. There were fourteen people in total. The room was a big square with a low ceiling, torches on the side, door in one wall, a couple of tables in the middle and chairs around the outside. Finally, a messy pile of furniture on one side of the door. Their nightly barricade, he guessed.

On the tables he saw his poncho, his weapons, his Soul Trap, and his Seed. There was a young woman, practically a teenager, who was holding his Pegasi ring, and who had been gazing at it avariciously. But now her eyes were turned to him. All their eyes had turned his way in response to the young man’s words. It seemed Nicolai had left some kind of impression on them.

‘It can’t be him,’ said the girl. ‘That guy was bigger. Scarier. Look at him.’ She snorted.

Nicolai frowned at her, then looked to John. ‘That Chosen with the longsword and the neural enhancer was creeping up the stairs towards you when I attacked them from behind. Remember that?’ He raised his eyebrows at the man. ‘There were fewer of you, then, I recall that. Only perhaps seven. Those Chosen would’ve carved you up, without me. I also recall there was that young man, one of the Chosen, who fled and joined you.’ Nicolai peered around. ‘Doesn’t seem to be here, now.’

Their eyes were wide. ‘It is him,’ said the girl.

‘I told you!’ said the boy.

A big woman with a bionic arm had stepped forward slightly, and she had an axe in her hand. Nicolai remembered her; she had stood behind John, back that day, and held the same axe. She was looking wary, and concerned. Nicolai frowned up at her, a little confused. He was tied up, injured, and sat on the ground. What was she so worried about?

‘We let him go,’ said John. ‘The Chosen, that is.’

‘Ah.’ Nicolai nodded. An interesting decision.

‘I remember how crazed this guy looked,’ said the lawyer man, coming forward to scowl down at Nicolai. ‘It didn’t look to me like you killed them to save us. You just looked like a mad beast.’ He glanced at the others. ‘Remember that? Eh?’

Nicolai stared up at the lawyer, eyes narrowed. This man obviously had it out for him. Some of the others were nodding, looking at him with frowns on their faces.

Nicolai smoothed his face and shrugged, opting to quickly move past the lawyer’s words. It was clear the impression he’d left hadn’t been at all endearing. Best to focus less on the ugly image and more on the fact of him saving them.

‘I’d had a bad day. Still, I saved you, didn’t I? Where would you be now, without me?’

‘We were thinking of joining,’ said the lawyer man, voice sharp. Searching for more ammunition to turn them against Nicolai.

‘No we weren’t,’ said the girl holding his ring. ‘Maybe you were, but not me. We’ve all still got our Seeds and they take Seeds. I’m not losing mine, I’m gonna finish it and get a Soul.’ She looked to Nicolai’s Seed on the table, which shone with a rainbow of lights. Her tongue darted out and licked at her lips. Nicolai saw the desire in her, saw it in all of them, but most especially the lawyer man.

‘If he saved us, then we can’t rob him.’ It was an old man speaking, and Nicolai recognised the voice. The man who’d said maybe Nicolai wasn’t Chosen, maybe he could help them. ‘We’re not like the Chosen, right? That’s what you all said. We’re better.’ The old fellow was frowning at them all, deeply disapproving.

There’s a good lad. Nicolai struggled not to grin wildly at the old man, instead giving him a thankful, entirely sane nod.

‘It’s a tough world.’ This was the big woman with the bionic arm and the axe. ‘If we want to survive we have to take what we need.’ She gestured to the table. ‘We need these things.’ She gestured to Nicolai. ‘We don’t know him, don’t know if we can trust him. All we do know is that he cut his way through six Chosen in about a minute—well armed, augmented Chosen, mind you—and looked like he enjoyed doing it. Looked like he wanted to do the same to us.’ She gave Nicolai a very wary, measuring look.

‘They deserved it,’ he broke in quickly. ‘You don’t know what they’ve done. They killed all my friends,’ he snarled these words. ‘Those bastards, they…’ He shook his head, eyes distant as though lost in painful memory. He swallowed heavily. ‘If you knew what they’d done, you would understand why I took some pleasure in killing them. As to whatever you think you saw after that, I don’t know, I was… in quite a state. I wouldn’t have hurt you.’ He scowled back at the woman, but in his peripheral vision he was gauging the expressions of the others.

He saw sympathy and understanding. Unlike him, they’d actually lost people to the Chosen, and his words found fertile ground in their minds. He restrained a sudden mad urge to laugh, maintaining his upset facade. The shadows danced and collided, applauding his acting. Nicolai imagined himself on a big, dark stage, nodding to a dimly lit audience as he was presented with a big award. Oh? For me? You’re too kind. Of course, I accept.

‘You see?’ said the old man, as though his point had been proven. ‘Remember what Maxine said. We should work together.’

The woman chewed her lip, frowning uncertainly at Nicolai. He could tell she was only halfway convinced; warier than the others. She seemed about to resume her argument but Nicolai broke in first.

‘You listen to her on the radio, too?’ he asked the old man, for the first time feeling some true common ground with these people, seizing upon it.

‘We want to help her, save her. She’s stuck up in that tower and she’s running out of food,’ said the young man, sudden passion in his voice.

‘A worthy goal, I’m glad to hear it.’ Nicolai nodded to him, smiling. ‘She’s a good woman. We should all follow her words.’ Most especially, the whole “don’t kill people for Seeds” thing she preaches.

He was winning them over, bit by bit, he could see it, feel it. The darkness squirmed hungrily in him, imagining what it would do when they took the bindings off, but he wrestled with it, forced it into its box. Johan was lost to him but he still needed someone to take his band off. Killing them wasn’t the right move.

‘This guy is full of shit!’ burst out the lawyer. ‘Look at him! Can’t you see how greasy he is? Listen, I’ve seen people like him my whole life. They’ll say whatever they need to say. We can’t trust him, and we’ve got no safe place, so we need his stuff. It’s as simple as that.’

The girl holding Nicolai’s ring nodded. ‘Tom’s right. We can’t trust him. But we can let him go, we don’t need to kill him.’ She looked at Nicolai. ‘I’m sorry, but we need these things.’ She looked to the others, the old man. ‘We can let him go, we don’t have to kill him.’

Nicolai restrained a derisive snort. She was clearly very keen on keeping his Pegasi ring.

The bionic-armed woman frowned. ‘He’ll want revenge. Anyone would.’

The old man didn’t restrain himself as he looked past her, to the girl. ‘You just want a ring that lets you fly,’ he snapped at the teenager. ‘Is this really what we’ve come to? Are we robbers now?’ He looked to John. ‘Well? You said we were better than the Chosen, didn’t you?’

‘She’s got a point,’ said John, a conflicted frown twisting his features. ‘You both do,’ he added, appeasing.

Here it was, the big moment. Time for the big man to make the big decision. Nicolai’s eyes darted around and returned to John. He needed to make sure it was the right decision.

There existed a grouping of words, suitably arranged, delivered with proper timing, that would get him out of this. He knew it, he could feel it. He just had to work out what they were.