By the time we begin our rounds, the previous night's events are evident to all of the personnel. I note the additional guards and security sweeps of the compound. Springer and I head to our base of operations, where delve back into the computer system and try to find the information we need to locate the insurgent group.
As I begin to follow the trail of hacks, my mind starts to wander to the night's incident, particularly the boy's age who died in my arms. It strikes me as both risky and odd that children would be used for such a task. Even though my parents were far from doting and affectionate, I can't imagine that they would have allowed me to participate in something that would put my life in imminent danger.
The image of the boy's face flashes across my brain, and I am reminded of how frightened he was and how utterly unprepared to cause me any harm. Perhaps it was the pain he felt, having broken his arm in the fall, that made him pause, but I can't help feeling like the whole thing was well beyond his capability or any real training. As I mull it over, other ideas begin to complicate this enigma.
Is this rebel faction predominantly made up of kids?
If so, how could they have survived on their own, with little adult assistance or supervision?
For that matter, how would they even exist if there were no parents to give birth to them?
There must be adults, or is this group a family? Oh, God, were they just a starving family, desperate enough to break into this facility?
I can't begin to go down that path. It's just too awful to consider, so I dismiss it and focus on another scenario. It is plausible that the adults are too frail or disabled somehow and must rely on the youth to take charge and gather what they need from these outposts. But then, how did they get here? It's not like this facility is near a town or city. The compound is strategically placed away from civilization as an added layer of security.
I sit up quickly in my chair as my fingers fly across the keys. I know that the building has multiple camera systems in every corridor, aside from sleeping quarters and bathrooms. I also know that the perimeter of the compound is riddled with cameras. I stroke a series of commands onto the keyboard and pull up the video data from the southwest corner of the building. After a minute during which I contemplate the timing of events, I scroll through footage of the area just outside of the fence, hoping to see a vehicle of some sort that would give me a clue as to what direction they had originated from. I slow the video as I get closer to when they breach the fence. I can see the point at which the video feed was taken over by a loop for any eyes watching but circumvent that and see the actual feed. I am dumbfounded when five figures seem to coalesce a moderate distance outside the perimeter.
I stop the video and rewind to watch it again, sure I must have missed something, but it is the same. They just appear. There is no evidence of a vehicle of any kind. What the hell? Frustrated by my inability to figure out how they arrived, I rewind the video a third time and slow the feed down so that I can look at it frame by frame.
The video is dark and grainy as I zoom in to the point at which they seem to appear, and then I see it beyond the point at which I saw them enter the section of the video I was watching. The ground opens, and they slip out before it closes again behind them. There is a tunnel system outside the barrier of this facility.
My vision tilts as I take this in. I feel like the images I am seeing blur with my experiences in Renascence. The tunnels I spent weeks mapping. My assignment was to plot the city's bowels, to look for a resistance that I never really found evidence of. And now I am faced with the very thing I was requisitioned to find in the city, but it is here, in an unknown network of tunnels, that is nowhere in any data I was given. The correlation is unnerving, and once again, I feel like an unseen hand is maneuvering me for an unrecognizable purpose. As though my assignment in Renascence was simply training for what I would find here, only it doesn't make any sense. It is maddening.
I lean away from the images on the screen and stretch my neck, hoping to gain some deeper perspective. My eyes drift over to Springer, seated in the chair next to me, having fallen asleep after his exertions last night. I feel that he knows more than what he tells me or what he has permission to tell me. I look back at the screen, at the figures frozen in time.
This tunnel system was not part of the assignment. So, should I reveal what I've found? There is only one outcome if I do.
I feel a fissure running through me. On one side is my loyalty to Springer and my family. The other side is my pursuit of the truth and unmasking the face of the DMC. I feel so close to unlocking some essential truth that will help me understand my part in all of this, but I can't grab onto it. There are just too many missing components for me to put together.
I proceed to watch the footage another couple of times, looking at the indistinct terrain as a small portion of the ground slides inward, allowing the individuals to scramble up and out of the opening. At normal film speed, this process actually takes a few seconds leading me to believe that the emerging figures must have been waiting just below the outlet, making it seem as if they just materialize out of nowhere. It is impossible to tell how far the tunnel system may extend, but it is plain that it must be a substantial distance as there are no other structures in the vicinity of the compound. In my mind, I start formulating ideas of how the maze of tunnels may snake through the earth and what that could mean as far as their historical significance is concerned. Naturally, I fall back on what I know from Renascence. It's a strange coincidence to use my experiences from that place to try to understand what is going on here. I am lost as to how I am expected to move forward with this.
Springer snores softly, and I look over at his face, slack and free of worry in his slumber. I promised him that I would see this through, that I wouldn't abandon him, and this means that I need to show him what I've found and force him to share everything he knows. No more secrets, no more sheltering me from the realities of what we are a part of. We have come too far now to hide behind fabrications and half-truths.
I nudge his leg a couple of times, and he shifts his body before coming awake. His eyes are ringed with dark circles, but I squelch any guilt and say, "I want to show you something." He yawns and nods, but I'm not finished. "After I show you, I need you to tell me anything you've kept hidden from me." I watch as his brow furrows before he slowly gestures his assent.
He scoots forward in his chair after I indicate that I want him to watch the screen. When he's in position, I play the footage at regular speed and watch his face closely for his reaction. I see his look of shock and assume that I must have looked the same.
"Where did they come from?"
"Just watch." I replay it, frame by frame.
His eyebrows shoot up as he watches the ground open, and the figures quickly emerge before the earth seals as though nothing had been disturbed. Then, at his request, I play it again. He sits back in his chair, eyes still glued to the scene paused on the monitor.
I wait for him to look at me before I ask, "What should we do with this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Springer, don't you feel like we're on the wrong side in all of this?" I pause, needing to choose my words carefully. "From the start, you've shielded me from things, protecting me from whatever you didn't want me to see or know." I observe him, but his face gives nothing away, and it's impossible to tell if what I am saying has any impact. "You are always looking out for me, trying to hide the ugliness of what we do. I appreciate you sheltering me from it, but if we are going to get through this together, I need to face the truth. I need to understand my purpose."
He reaches over. "Enora…"
I am not sure what he was about to say because I see the monitor go black and then flash before going black again from the corner of my eye.
"Did you see that?"
He leans in. "Was the video feed cut off or something?"
I shake my head. "No. That was the system resetting itself, but it shouldn't do that on its own."
And then, on the black screen, we see a cursor illuminate. We are rendered speechless, waiting in anticipation as characters begin to scrawl across the top of the screen.
We know you are there.
Springer and I gasp in shock as the message stops and then begins to disappear, letter-by-letter. I am about to open my mouth to voice a question, when Springer touches a finger to my lips and points at the screen where another communication is bleeding into the black background.
We know who you are, Enora.
I jump out of my seat, knocking into Springer. I am pointing to the screen frenziedly as he looks at me in utter astonishment.
"What the hell is this, Springer? How do they know who I am?"
I can see the gears turning in his head as he flips through various responses to determine which reply would be the most appropriate. My temper flares. "Stop it! Stop trying to hide things from me!"
Before he can react, the message is gone and replaced with a third, more bewildering missive.
We want to meet. It is time for you to learn the truth.
I look at Springer, and I can see that he is weighing the risks. He's always trying to protect me, but I am done being cossetted and sheltered from the reality of the Company. That boy's death was the final push I needed to accept the fact that I am a killer. It was as though his dead eyes were the mirror I finally held to my face. The reflection I saw is as inescapable as it is horrifying. There is no way for me to ignore the truth, not anymore. There is no return to some fantasy where I am one of the 'good guys.'
As I watch Springer's internal battle play out, I feel my own need for the truth turn into resolution. I coldly decide that if he refuses to join me, I will go on without him. I smother the pang of betrayal I feel when I make this decision. I have to do what is right. It's what my parents would expect of me. It's what I owe Safa. I owe it to myself.
Springer takes a deep breath. "They're right, Enora. It's time you learned the truth."
A rush of profound relief passes through me, along with a twinge of consternation. "Are you admitting that you've kept things from me?"
"Only what I've had to." He grasps my hand and squeezes gently. "We'll do this together."
I nod, my heart beginning to race at the prospect of what this means. We will be taking an irreversible step. Living outside the system and all it represents means no more DMC-provided food and no water. The Company will hunt us down, and I will never see my parents again. These are the costs, and they are steep. But I'm ready.
I see Springer's eyes crinkle as though he has been reading my thoughts, waiting while I come to this decision. His mouth curves in a small smile as he says, "I have so much to tell you."
Let it begin.
Enora’s story continues in Burden of Truth