“Alright, you take these pamphlets and distribute them on the third floor, I’ll take the fourth. Make sure no one sees you!” I say to my sister after handing her a stack of 100 new pamphlets.
“Why do we have to do it this way?” She asks me, in that tone of voice. “It would be so much faster if we just blasted it out using the network!”
“Yes, it would be! But that's illegal today. Punishable by exile to a penal colony. Do you want to get separated?” She just stares back at me. “That's what I thought. So drop these outside the classes and make sure no one sees you!” I close our fathers old briefcase and we each head out of the stairwell onto the floors of the praxis school for machines.
“I’ll see you after classes today at Proff’s.” she says to me with a smile.
I sneak up the stairs, careful to use the wall and make sure my face is hidden. I head through the door and see that the hallway has a few people, I lean against a locker trying to play it cool. Waiting for them to leave, so I can drop the flyers and head to class.
After a tense 30 seconds the two kids talking leave in opposite directions, I take another look both ways before slowly dropping the fliers from my hands as I walk to the other end of the hall. Making sure to drop everything before I head out of the hallway and to the eighth floor for my class on the Codex Interpretation.
I sit waiting for the classroom to open. Out of the corner of my eye I see students walking by reading the pamphlets. I give a small smile and continue reading the Varkh Codex on my data slate, watching the ticker in the bottom corner as it shows the small changes to the law. House Kaedrys does like to keep the people on their toes.
The day went by as I watched most of the teachers shaking their heads in disgust as they filled their pockets with the pamphlets the students kept producing. As I head to the Professors I see the angered teachers speaking Veruthik with Ministry of Reflection agents, I walk past as confidently as I can, and give a gentle nod and a smile as the teachers wave me off.
Looking back in the building I see the agents begin setting up tables to start searching students. I quickly make my way out of view and breathe a deep breath of relief, when I feel two hands grab me around my shoulders. Frozen I feel sweat begin forming, until I hear the voice “Relax Harz! You see the agents? I’m guessing pamphlets will be outlawed tomorrow.” she says sarcastically.
“That’s not funny!” I say as I shake her grip off me and continue the accelerated march to the Professors. “They're pushing us further into a corner! We’re going to have nowhere left to go! Just like dad!” A stern resolve on my face as I sight the shop in the distance. “They’re going to understand that we won't be silent. They won't win.”
“Well if we keep working so quietly then it will be silenced! It should be LOUD! LET EVERYONE HEAR IT! Even those who prefer it be quiet!” she shouts at me as a man passes us giving my sister a look. I look back at him and shrug, while he shook his head and proceeded on. Then my sister continued, “Dad never stayed quiet. When he spoke, everyone heard.”
“Its one thing to hear, but people need to listen to it. An idea can’t be killed, they can try to snuff it out, but the embers remain.” As we enter the professors shop, we are hit by the faint smell of dusty books and relics, the shop is a mix of relics and texts from the Ascendancy.
When the professor approached us, his short frame complementing his manner of speaking. “So, how were your studies today?”
“Good, everyone on 3rd and 4th street got the daily edition.” I say, while my sister just rolls her eyes in response.
“But the MoRag’s caught on, they were setting up for scans.” She adds plainly onto the end.
“Well come join the others in the workshop. I will close soon, and join you.” he says as he walks past both of us, I give my sister a playful nudge with my shoulder. As we proceed to the back of the shop and descend into the basement. The claustrophobic feeling in the stairwell overwhelmed by the loud and brash music emanating from the workshop.
As we cross the threshold we see the other three in the group doing their usual activities, and my sister runs to join Vorn at the Artists corner. I look at the bookshelves. The forbidden philosophy, the heretical knowledge, there I see the book that I had been working through The True Superiority of the Colonial. Its title belies the truth within, that the colonial has no superiority, we are equals in the galaxy like all the others who call it home.
After several long minutes of reading amidst the chaos everything quiets down as the professor comes down. His eyes carried the bags of decades of quiet rebellion. “So, what do we all have planned for tomorrow?” he claps his hands together as the artist corner speaks up.
“We’ve created some templates for graffiti. I think if we put it outside of some of the major buildings people should see it before the MoRags erase it.” says Vorn, the resident artist.
Sera speaks up next, “I’ve been thinking about how we can draw attention to the caste mixing, we should set up a drive or something to raise attention to their mistreatment.”
Ritha picks up her instrument, “I’m still working on a way to subtly mock the ascendancy through a catchy song. Still working on the lyrics, but if we can get it to work, its an earworm even the Varkh cant deny”
“Remember” the professor said, “For now, the public displays of disloyalty are a crime. I believe we can proceed with Sera’s plan tomorrow. We will open a food bank and collection drive for clothing.” Sera smiles happily in approval. “As for the graffiti, I believe it is still too dangerous for us to take any kind of action that might paint us in a bad light.” Vorn and Kara looked disappointed, “If we make sure that it can be viewed as art from a legal sense then we can protect ourselves.”
“So we have to let the Ascendancy tell us what art is?” Vorn struck back. I closed my book excited to hear the discussion.
“Not at all, but if we want to stay safe then we need to abide by the rules of society,” the professor added.
“But the rules of society are designed to prevent our safety!” Kara intejected, gaining confidence as she looked around and saw the interested faces. “The rules are arbitrary and shift to protect those who can already afford to protect themselves, and devours everyone that can’t! We shouldn't let a system that hates us for speaking, tell us how to speak!” My sister now standing fully confident
“But to change hearts and minds, we must be alive to tell our story. Otherwise it will be told by those who remain. Pictures can be twisted, words can be redefined.” He then gestures to me, and the book I’m reading. “To use the language of the oppressors against the oppressors is the best way to transform the people that only understand this method. Many great men and women have been lost in the fight against the Varkh, but their lives had been reshaped in death. Twisting their true intentions until their lives refit into the shape of the Varkh’s story.” Everyone just relaxes their posture and gets a contemplative look on their face realizing the truth in the professor's words. I close my book and realize the intent, that we should tell our own story before others would tell it for us.
We disperse for the night, with most of us returning to our housing. I instead grab a notebook and begin jotting down our beliefs, what we stand for, what our intentions are. Most importantly I want something that makes it clear we are against the Ascendancy. I write all night, feverishly jotting down all of my thoughts somewhere the Varkh cannot find it. They all find me the next morning in the exact spot where they left me, shaking me from my self-induced stupor.
They dragged me along to the food drive, Sera had spent all night working to create enough food to feed the entire surrounding 8 Hab-Blocks. Our demonstration didn’t last long before the peacekeepers came to break it up. As soon as they did, the hybrids we were helping fled before they could be punished as well.
“I will point out to you fellows that it is not illegal to provide food.” the professor speaks up, making sure they hear him.
“No, it ain’t. We’re here to arrest you Professor Sparnkel. On charges of Child Endangerment and Disturbing the Peace.” They then looked from my sister to the other girls. “As well as pedophilia.. Dravenn-Kar also wants to speak with you about your Rebel Society.” They gave him a punch to his stomach that caused him to double over, before they picked him up and dragged him away.
Before they left the peacekeepers were sure to knock over all of our stands and make all of the food inedible. Vorn threw down what he was holding which accidentally hit a peacekeeper in the foot, and so he was also charged with assaulting an officer. Kara and Ritha went to the judicator to argue for a lesser sentence, while I stayed behind with Sera, who was trying desperately to salvage what she could.
I helped her pick everything up, as the reality of what happened set in, “is the professor really gone?” Sera asked, attempting to hide her tears. “Why would they say those things, the professor was a good man.”
I felt myself hardening in response, “The professor said he'd seen people's lives reshaped after they’d died” my mind racing through the possibilities “What if they just decided to start reshaping his life early.”
Sera’s eyes well up with tears in response as she turns her head in an attempt to hide it. “This can't stop us.” She spoke trying to muster her courage, “we need to keep fighting for what is right.”
As I listened, I moved closer to her trying to comfort her, unfamiliar with the motions truly needed, I instead just place my hand on her shoulder. “We will. Nothing can stop us, because we’re together.” She gives me a small kiss on the cheek as I nervously pull away and continue cleaning the mess.
After a rotation Kara is able to get Vorn released, but he is to wear a monitoring bracelet, ensuring the Varkh can track his movements. Kara would work to disable it, but as she said “Arkelos has been doing this work for tens of thousands of years. So it is going to take time.”
We had to find a new place to congregate, as the professor's home was being raided and all of our supplies with it. Ritha had a small loft space, while Vorn suggested a construction site, none of which seemed appealing as we couldn't be ourselves when we wanted. Sera was able to find some sympathetic hybrids, who offered us a small space in one of the lower parts of Elystra. Luckily I had kept the journal, I would make sure to honor the professor's true legacy.
It took 2 Cycles for Kara to hack the bracelet, but once she did, the reality of losing the professor truly sat in. They paraded him out in front of the masses, he looked as if he had been beaten within an inch of his life. Dragging him into the courtroom and the reporters only asking accusatory questions as if he were already guilty.
The group collectively seemed to harden in response to what we saw. I watched the law ticker on my data-slate. Giving me updates about the case against the professor, it had not been going well. All of us knew that it was false, but that was not how the law worked. The professor has needed to prove that he had not done these things based on the evidence. All of which contained us, but had been altered by the Ministry of Reflection. Our very presence implicated the professor according to the government.
They had claimed we were innocent children who were lured into rebellion by the professor, and they had now been looking for each of us to be given a trip to the Mirror Spires. It was seen as a chance to bring us back, but we knew what it truly meant, that we would be re-educated. Their faces all looked to me, as if I were a replacement for the professor. “What are we going to do?”
“Theyre already telling everyone what we are, and what we stand for.” I felt my soul galvanizing to the truth I was now facing. “We need to show the galaxy that we can speak for ourselves…” Their faces seem to brighten in response. “Vorn, can you remake those stencils?”
The smile on his face grows and I see the despondency fall away from Kara. “What are you planning, Harz? The Varkh is telling everyone who we are, people will be looking for us.” She said, copying my worries from earlier as if they will be a lifeline back: for me, for the idealistic boy I was.
That is not who I will be anymore, I say back. “Well we’re going to shout who we are! Let everyone know that we cannot be silenced!” I look out the window and see growing amidst the gloom was a palmander, its 5 petals cutting through the darkness and bringing light and beauty where the ascendancy attempts to snuff it out.
Vorn would spend the next rotation making enough stencils that each of us could tag quickly enough that it would take the ascendancy a ten-day to find all of them. Ritha worked to collect enough parts to build a functioning radio transmitter, starting her own show where she would discuss the mistreatment of the classes and how there can be a better way forward. We made sure to only broadcast a message of peace across the airwaves. Sera continued to care for the hybrids, with her minor medical knowledge, we felt our connection growing closer through the cycles.
Kara and I continued to refine our ideas, while she began transcribing my words electronically, and planning to hack the displays that would override the view screens all over Elystra. I continued to write, passionately naming our group the Palmander Society taking the image of the flower for ourselves, so too would we could cut against the darkness. I sent my journal to an archivist on Port Nyx that the professor had been close with.
We are able to continue this way for another twenty cycles spreading our message across Elystra. Ritha broadcasting each night in a new location unable to be pinned down from the underground network the Molari showed us, thanks to Sera’s compassion more people were joining with our chorus. Vorn had a large art piece that he plans to unveil with our broadcast across Elystra.
I look around the group, each of us, having grown so much since we lost the professor. “We know what this means! Once we do this, we will–no longer–just be a thorn in the Varkh’s side. We will become an enemy, one to be eradicated. So if you remain, you do so of your own free will, no one here will judge.” I glance at everyone's faces, each covered in the grime of us living amongst the untethered, but through it all, I see the determination and resolve. They each nod back to me, and I give Kara the confirmation.
Suddenly we see the image of the palmeander show on every single display in our small area. Ritha runs outside to see that every screen on the block has changed as well. I begin to speak and hear my voice being broadcast across the planet, speaking our message of cooperation and nonviolence. It plays for almost an entire cycle, before the Varkh shuts it down, but we know that they will trace it to us before long.
When the peacekeepers did arrive we did not resist. We would be charged with mis-use of Varkh property, and intent to incite violence. They sat us in separate rooms and interviewed us, joined by a Taranwe-Karn agent and a Kaedrys-Kar representative. We would have the entirety of the legal arm of the Varkh to struggle against, along with the propaganda wing. They tried to find any method to frame us as misguided, but they knew that our message could not be argued against.
Eventually we were brought into the court room, where we had been reunited for the first time since we had been arrested. When the Iron Judicator arrived at the absurdly raised dais and lectern, he looked at us, and then to the Ministry of Reflection agent, giving a nod to each other. “You children are being charged with disturbing the peace, mis-use of Varkh property, intent to incite violence. Do you have anything to say in your defense?”
Kara, Vorn, Sera and Ritha looked at me, I stood up to speak, but as soon as I did, peacekeepers came up behind me and slammed me back down into the chair. “W-” before a word could come out a gag was slapped onto my mouth, preventing any words from coming out. The others tried to speak but were similarly gagged and restrained.
“It gives me no pleasure to punish five bright young minds who could have truly helped the Varkh thrive. But unfortunately you chose empathy. The galaxy provides you no compassion, you must take what you can. However, you have made consistent efforts to lead other citizens off the path. Therefore the Varkh sentences each of you to be executed in the public square a decacycle from today as a deterrent to any others who would attempt to emulate your foolish path.”
I merely stare back at the judicator defiantly, before he continues speaking. “It is clear you have no remorse for your actions. Your poison words will hopefully die with you and we will remove this empathetic tumor growing on the pristine beauty of the Varkh. Until your execution you will be remanded into a holding cell to await the preparations.” As the peacekeepers dragged us out of the court and into the holding cell, removing the gags and allowing us to speak to each other for the first time since we had been arrested.
We each hugged each other and all just sat there silently, until after a few hours we began to hear chanting coming from outside. Muffled at first but growing in strength until finally we can make out the words “Free The Palmander Five” After several moments of the chant growing, we soon hear the sounds of the dispersal gas, and over the loudspeaker is the MoRags countering that it was an unlawful demonstration.
Just as quickly the MoRags grabbed us and dragged us outside saying things like “too dangerous” and “heretical empathy”. We then saw what looked like an officer talking to the judicator, before a pyre priest came out to speak to us. “Do you wish to confess and return to the Varkh?” We all just looked back in response.
“No, we do not acknowledge guilt by your system! We believe in a true society! One based on equality and freedom!” As I spoke the MoR Agent approached me.
“And so your words die with you, no one will carry your message, no one will remember you as anything other than a traitor! What you have done will take generations to re-write and undo, and so, I think we shall prevent it from growing any more. Place them against the wall! Soldiers, ready your weapons!”
None of us cried or pleaded, for our lives were not theirs to take. We had given our lives for the truth, and in my last moments I saw a display flicker momentarily showing our Palmander symbol over the Ascendancy Star on Flames. I knew peace would win in the end.
