The Right Thing

                     

“No I get it. I do.”
A strand of greasy brown hair fell over Victor’s eyes, his gaze trained on the ground.
“It makes perfect sense.” He growled, his teeth bared. “Can’t risk your precious ‘position’.”
The young man sat with his elbows rested on his knees, his spine bowed and shoulders low. At first glance one might assume it was the stance of defeat, the man’s face blank; but Melora saw every knotted muscle, his back wound up like a spring and his amber eyes ablaze.
“You know I can’t change this,” Melora said, her voice devoid of emotion.
Slowly, Victor lifted his head and fixed his burning gaze on Melora.
“No, Melora, I know you don’t want to change this.”
Melora said nothing, pressing her lips together as she stared down at her brother through the tinted view of her mask.
“Get out.”
Melora opened her mouth to say more — to say anything — but Victor shot to his feet and glared down at her, freezing any semblance of though.
“I said get out!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

A guttural cry ripped from Melora’s throat as she shot upwards, blankets scattering and slipping off of the mattress as she did so.  Sweat drenched her tank top and dripped from her forehead, her sheets sticky. Gasping for air the woman slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up as the nightmare of a memory faded away.  The floor was cold beneath her feet as she groped her way through the dark quarters over to the only window in the flat.  With shaking hands, Melora grasped the edge of the window as she pressed her forehead against the cold, clear material; strands of her thick black hair sliding from her shoulder.

Out beyond the window was the blinding lights of Nova 4, the heart and lifeblood of the planet.  The city boasted a population of roughly 32.5 million, with all kinds of trade centers and market places; it truly was a spectacle.  A pulsating, superficial spectacle.

Despite the chill in the air Melora continued to sweat, her whole body trembling.  Was she brave enough to do the right thing?

~*~*~*~*~*~

“30 more minutes” Melora told herself after daring a glance at the digital timepiece that sat mounted above the Judicial Room’s two-door entrance.
Normally the woman would have simply tuned out the Magistrate’s drawling voice as he updated the Inner Circle on the plans of The Dictator, but today was different.  Today all she wanted to do was shut off her soul and hide.
“At this time Colonel Anton Merit will present his report on the current status of civilian rioting.” The Magistrate announced.
Melora snapped to attention, her head whipping around to the Judicial Room entrance as her breath grew shallow.
Anyone but him.  Not now.

The doors opened. 

Melora’s heart stopped as she watched the young Colonel that stepped through the doorway, his icy blue eyes sweeping the room.  It was silly to fear recognition, she stood with all the other Psychs clad in black with covered faces; and yet, somehow, that cold gaze found its way to Melora and stayed there.  Struggling to suppress the rising anger, Melora fought the urge to slouch behind the cover of her peers and squared her shoulders.

Throughout the duration of the man’s report, Melora kept her eyes fixed on the exit, shutting out the once familiar voice that was now so foreign.  The moment he finished and the room began to move, bodies slowly rising and colliding, Melora shot to her feet and made her way through the room.

“I hope you’re ready for today.”A voice wheezed, stopping Melora, the suspicious green eyes of the Magistrate slithering across Melora’s black-clad figure.
“Are you taunting me, Magistrate Dawson?” Melora spat, the urge to reach out and wrap her fingers around his thick neck intensifying with every second she spent in his gaze.
“I’m simply checking in.”
Melora stared the man down for several seconds before wheeling around on her heel and stalking towards the exit, her pace quickening as she passed the crowd of dignitaries that surrounded Anton Merit.

“Melora!” The young man roared after Melora just as she walked out into the expansive room beyond the Judicial Room, his voice bouncing off the vaulted ceiling.
Melora pretended not to hear him and continued walking.  Despite her pace, the heavy rap of his boots against the marble thudded faster and faster until he had caught up and reached out, his fingers wrapping around her arm. Melora ground her teeth together as she came to a halt, the jarring gruffness of his touch and demanding nature nearly enough to send her over the edge.
“If you were anyone else, Anton, I would have snapped your spine in half.” She said with forced calm.
“Oh, so you do remember what family is?” He seethed.
Melora inhaled.
“Victor chose treason over family, that’s hardly on me.”
“Stop it, Melora, stop the execution.”
Melora said nothing her lips pressed together. She had already gone in circles explaining to herself how her brother was truly beyond her help; she didn’t have the time to do so with Anton.
“I have evidence you’re biologically related to him,” Anton said after the long silence, his grip tightening on Melora’s arm. “I will use it.”
Sighing, Melora pried his fingers off of her arm without moving a muscle, her gaze fixed intently on Anton as the invisible tendrils of her mind forced the man’s hand away with ease. “You don’t understand the Director. He’ll only congratulate me for having the guts to do the right thing.”
Disbelief flooded Anton’s gaze as he took a step backwards. “The right thing? You can’t be serious.” He breathed, his blue eyes desperately searching Melora’s through her mask. “What have they done to you?”
“They’ve brainwashed me, Anton, they’ve twisted every inch of my soul into something unrecognizable.” Melora spat, enraged. “You think I don’t know I’m his dog?  The fact remains that I have no choice in the matter, so I’d rather be a dog than dead.”
With that, Melora turned and walked away.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Melora’s heart thrummed in her chest as her rapid footsteps echoed through the hallway, her thumb tracing circles across the edge of the mask she held.  Thoughts raced through her mind like flies, clouding her concentration.  The slightest touch of panic rose in her chest. If she couldn’t control her thoughts, she couldn’t control her mind, and if she couldn’t control her mind she couldn’t control her strength.  Would she be able to do it?

Melora traversed the winding halls of the Compound, the steel walls and blue lights all the same.  The Compound was home to all the main tech of The Organization, ranging from the newest indoctrination product to their most deadly weapons.  Whether it was out of hubris or foolishness the Director kept most of his eggs in one basket was a mystery to Melora.

Sliding her mask over her head Melora stepped into the elevator at the end of the hall and pulled out a picture, the smiling face of Victor covering the matte surface. As the elevator surged and began its descent, Melora tightened her fingers around the picture and pressed it to her forehead as she bent her head and closed her eyes.
“I’ll do anything for you.” She assured the picture, her voice a hoarse.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The thrum of the bar vibrated through Melora’s chest as she sat hunched over her drink, her gaze dull.  Somehow, someway, Anton had found her even here, his broad form entering the side of her field of vision as he walked through the entrance and pushed his way through the crowd; much to Melora’s chagrin.
She refused to look at the man as he slid into the seat next to hers, her body warm and mind only just a bit fuzzy from the alcohol.
“Didn’t know you have clearance for this bar.” She muttered, her eyes glued to the rippling surface of her whisky.
“Didn’t know you ever took off your mask,”  Anton remarked, nodding his head at the black mask on the counter.
The comment stirred a deep and painful whirlwind of emotion Melora hadn’t been expecting and she turned to leave.
Anton reached out his hand to stop her but froze just before he touched her. “Please, let’s just talk, like old times.”
Against her better judgment, Melora turned and settled back into her original position.
“The “old times” are gone, Anton.”
The slightest hint of pain surfaced in Anton’s gaze. “And whose fault is that.”
Melora opened her mouth but stopped when she realized an apology had formed on her tongue, nearly ready to spill out.  Inhaling, Melora mumbled instead:
“This isn’t what I thought it would be.”
Anton snorted. “This isn’t what any of us thought it would be.”
A sad smile tugged at the corner of Melora’s lips as she downed the last of her drink.
“Something needs to change, something needs to be done.”
Closing her eyes Melora dug her nails into her glass.
“I wish you would stop talking as if I could unwind the past few hours, as if there was a way to right all the wrong done today.”
Anton drew closer, the intensity in his blue eyes increasing. “But what if there was?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

At the lower levels, narrow hallways became cavernous rooms branching into more rooms with steel beams scattered throughout like trees.  The various colored halogen lights that lit the areas cave it almost a carnivalesque feel and the farther Melora walked the sicker she felt.  She ignored the stares and comments she received from the men and women she passed, her gaze set straight ahead.

Finally, she arrived at a more narrow room which lead to the cell block.  Melora stopped. She stood in front of a door, knowing full well what was behind it.  Reaching out a trembling hand, Melora let her fingers trace the cold metal before turning and continuing down the hall, tears blurring her vision.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

Without taking time to look back, Melora stopped in the center of the next room, this one larger than all the rest. From it branched room after room that made up most of the lower level.  She glanced up at the beams that traveled up into the rest of the compound.  Her breath grew shallow as she stretched her mind, each mental “hand” wrapping around the beams and clawing at the ceiling.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Melora narrowed her eyes at Anton and remained silent.
“He’s been executed,” Anton said, his gaze dark. “There’s no way for you to take back what you’ve done.”
Anger reignited in Melora’s gut as the image of her brother’s head falling to the ground burned through her thoughts.  His eyes never once found hers before it had happened.
Shattering her glass on the ground, Melora shot to her feet and walked out of the bar into the cold night air.

“Please tell me you feel at least some guilt!” Anton cried after Melora from the bar’s entrance as she stormed away.
Freezing, Melora spun suddenly around on her heel “It tears me apart!” She screamed. “I should have done something, I should have stopped it!” Drawing in a breath, Melora brushed aside the hair that fell into her eyes as anger burned in her blood. “It’s too late for me.  I’ve chosen my path, there’s no turning back now.”
“No, Melora.” Anton said as he rapidly closed the distance between them, his intense gaze burning into Melora’s “It’s not too late. You can pick up where he left off. You can drive The Organization to its knees.”

“You can fight.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Squeezing her eyes shut, Melora screamed as she activated every ounce of strength she had and brought the several mile long compound to the ground, steel infrastructure crumpling like paper all around her as her mind closed its grip on the buildings.

And finally, Melora had done the right thing.