| |
The next day Mack stood anxiously in front of the fountain's red brick fence holding a new rose. He was tired to get up on the fence and decided to just wait. If anyone was going to come, they would find him.
The crowd was thick and moved fast as always and Mack stared into it, getting lost in his own world and dreams of a green light he so longed to see.
“Hey,” someone woke Mack from his trance. “Instead of wasting your time guarding it, why not fix the damn fountain?”
Whoever it was, the crowd swallowed them before Mack got a chance to reply. But what would he have said? He felt embarrassed and challenged at the same time. He built the “Light of Freedom” after all, with his own hands. People used to look up to him.
Mack put the rose on the fence and stepped over it into the pool of red rusty water. He walked towards the center of the fountain and reached underwater searching for the drain. Something was clogging it and he pulled on it. It wouldn’t budge. He tried again harder but it seemed to be stuck.
Mack accessed his internal power supply and rerouted most of the energy to his hands. He pulled again and held on to it, pulling and pulling, until he felt something move, only it wasn’t what he anticipated, and he saw his right hand stretch and rip apart at the elbow.
“Mack?” an unfamiliar voice called from behind him.
Mack let go of the clog and the lack of power in his body let gravity take over and he fell into the rusty water with a big splash.
He rerouted his power and slowly pushed himself up on his feet. The red and heavy water flowed down his body and the damaged hand. Mack tried to push the hand back in but the metal was stretched and its original shape changed. His fingers barely moved.
“Are you Mack?” the voice said.
Mack looked up and saw a tall and flawless male cyborg standing by the fence and holding Mack's rose.
“Did you make this?” the cyborg said.
“Yes, but not for you,” said Mack. “I’m expecting someone else.”
“Actually, you're waiting for me,” said the cyborg.
Mack looked at the cyborg, then at himself. Who was he to choose? He sighed and said, “Would you like to see the Light of Freedom with me?”
“Sure, sounds fun,” said the cyborg.
Mack carefully walked through the rusty fountain water to the fence and tried to step over it but his legs wouldn’t rise high enough.
“I need some help here,” said Mack. “Would you please?” he reached out to the cyborg.
“My pleasure,” said the cyborg and helped Mack get over the fence.
“Thanks,” said Mack and immediately sat down on the fence. He felt the recent effort take a toll on his energy reserves and had to wait a few moments for his energy to regain balance.
When Mack looked up he saw the cyborg looking at its own hands in horror — they were red with rust from helping Mack.
“Sorry, I have to go,” said the cyborg. “Maybe another time,” he dropped the rose to the ground and ran away as fast as he could.
Mack watched the cyborg run until he was lost in the crowd. Then he looked down at his hands. He stared at them for a long time but didn’t notice any difference from the color of the rusty water. It was all red, he was all red, and Mack felt that he had reached a limit, that there was no point in trying anymore.
He bent down and picked up the rose then limped out of the square.
