Note: Sorry, this isn't an alternate happy ending to "The Ice Palace". Wasn't planning on sequels, but the idea wouldn't let me go. *sigh* Hope this won't disappoint anyone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A million roads, a million fears
A million suns, ten million years of uncertainty
I could speak a million lies, a million songs,
A million rights, a million wrongs in this balance of time
But if there was a single truth, a single light
A single thought, a singular touch of grace
Then following this single point, this single flame,
The single haunted memory of your face
-From the song "A Thousand Years" by Sting.
***
Who was he?
The question circles around my head, stirring everything that's inside like a big, ugly metal scoop. His pictures, intelligence files, or even surveillance tapes of his smiling faces and pleasant voices fail to fill me in on who he was what he was. It doesn't compare to the few minutes I had with him.
The obsessive fascination with the questions that can never be answered.
He's left me with this terrifying gift.
This wonder.
Who was he?
And why?
***
~The ice palace is not searching for anything, it merely sends out light from its disintegrating chambers. This is a spectacle observed by no one. People do not pass this way.
A spectacle observed by no one.~
***
"How much time?"
"They're out of the plane," a voice replies through the microphone. It's Zack. "Heading your way in...three minutes."
I hate waiting in the darkness, especially when it's freezing cold. Idiots. What makes them think killing the ones who exposed the disk will change everything now? The boat is sinking already. The bleeding heart liberals in the UN declared that America was committing crimes against humanity and made a big deal out of it. If I were the Powers That Be --if they still had powers, that is-- I'd pack and get the hell out.
But I'm not them, thank God, just a soldier following the freakin' order. So, none of my business.
The night sky is crystal clear, and even though the moon is nowhere to be seen, the stars are annoyingly bright. This way it's going to be harder to go unnoticed. I lean on the cold wall and hide in the shadow. Zack and Brin are on look-outs, and the rest should be talking care of the guards in the building. Apparently sending the whole team is not enough, because Lydecker is waiting at the end in the van, looking over the whole thing.
It's colder than Hell, dammit. Thought it was supposed to be spring or something.
..Oh right. No spring here anymore.
My hand, which is supposed to be checking my sidearm, wanders and finds its destination in my left pocket. It finds the cool, smooth surfaces of lenses, and if I let it, it can easily slip into the strange warm comfort in them. If I let it, even with eyes closed, I can almost see the familiar blue eyes.
If only I let myself.
I hear carefully measured footsteps from behind me. I don't have to turn around to know that it's Zack. I am used to his presence, as he is to mine. But suddenly, I can feel him grabbing my elbow, and pulling my hand out from the pocket.
And he sees the glasses I'm clutching so hard and carefully.
"This thing...it's gotten into you."
When I turn around, Zack's eyes haven't wavered from the back door where the targets should be appearing from soon, his expression unreadable. For a second, I'm not sure if it was him who spoke. But it was him, I know. He probably wanted to say 'he', not 'it'. He wouldn't discuss it here though--he never does anything to jeopardize a mission. He will soon talk to me about it, I can sense it, but not here, not now.
He thinks my last kill is 'affecting' my performances. Maybe it is, but it doesn't change the fact that Logan Cale was a fruitcake, and there is no need for me to dwell on thinking about him. What the hell for, exactly? I wondered again and again, and I'm now tired of wondering. The SOB's of Liberation Movement who took the disk from him to expose the dark, bad secrets took credit for themselves. The real hero, of course, was never mentioned. I don't think he was dumb enough to think that people would make a bronze statue for what he'd done, and admire him as the liberator of the country, but he looked freakin' happy when I killed him.
Why?
'I'm sorry.'
His husky voice whispers to me still.
There's static from the microphone, which almost startles me to death. "The targets are approaching," Brin reports. She's positioned at the back of the targets. She will come to help once Zack and I take the initiative.
I nod at Zack, and together, we move toward the door. We stand at each side, and wait.
A few seconds later, the door opened with a loud screech, and two well-dressed men and four armed hulks walk out.
Instantly, Zack is onto the last two men, the bodyguards. The other two immediately draw their guns, which I kick off in time. Two simple punches knock them out. I look around, and Zack's finishing off his marks.
This is almost too easy.
Brin walks out through the door, and aims her gun at the hearts of the two men who are still left standing, the ones we came for.
One of them tries to pretend as if he knows what's going on. "You better drop that gun now, young lady," he lectures, "There'll be security guards from the building soon."
One thing Zack hates is arrogance. Well, so do I, so can't really blame him for kicking that man's groin. The guy falls, screaming in pain. The other one tries to go to his colleague, but Brin's gun threatens him to stay put.
"Who are you people?" the other one asks, scared shitless, "What do you want?"
Those are the two dumbest questions, and I'm really, really sorry for Logan Cale for believing they would actually carry out his legacy. Must've been his bad eyes, trusting these guys.
"We want what everyone wants," a familiar voice answers behind us. "Survival."
Lydecker is standing there, with his hands inside his pockets, casually taking all these in. He nods at us, then walks in front of the two men.
For a second, a confused look passes through Zack's face. Negotiation wasn't exactly why we were sent here for. We were here to terminate the leaders of LM.
Apparently, Lydecker has an entirely different idea on his mind.
"As you can see," he looks around dramatically, "we have all the control here. Which means you'll just have to give us what we want."
Leave it to Lydecker to double-cross the government. I can't even be stunned like the others are now. Should've expected this from him anyway. Honestly, I don't care who we work for. I hope, though, these men wouldn't give into Lydecker's request. That'd be just too...insulting to Logan Cale's memory.
"Forget it," one of them says bravely, although I could see he's just about to pee, "The guards will get here soon, and you won't stand a chance against them."
Gee, can't this guy be more wrong? Well, at least he has a backbone.
At that moment, the rest of the team arrive and join Lydecker. One and half minutes later than expected, but Jondi signals that they took care of everything. A great timing, because the man's eyes bulge out at seeing five more soldiers.
Lydecker almost smirks. "Anything else you wanted to say?"
The one who got kicked by Zack stands up hurriedly. "You've proven your point, Mr. Lydecker," he practically grovels, "And I'm sure a man like yourself knows very well when the government he works for won't last."
Lydecker's eyebrow arches. "What if I do?"
"Work with us," the man says with false bravado, straightening up, "We give you what you want, and you give us what we want."
Hah, it look less than a minute for them to give in. I can't laugh at its absurdity.
"And what is that?" Lydecker asks, with the predatory glint in his eyes.
"We want the present government gone," the man emphasizes the word 'gone', " Make them disappear. Not too obviously, but I'm sure you know how that works. You've been killing us for quite some time now." There should've been some bitterness in that last statement--at least *I* would feel incredibly bitter if bad guys killing one of us--but there's only excitement in his voice. The man's eyes are dark with exhilaration, no doubt imagining the power and money he'll gain from this arrangement.
Lydecker pretends to think it over, then nods. "Deal."
The man offers his hand to shake, extremely hyper. Lydecker looks at it disapprovingly, but reluctantly grabs it and shake.
I feel cold, and it's not because of the temperature.
Are you watching this, wherever you are?
You said things would change, Logan Cale.
They won't.
***
The girl stands at the edge of the playground, just like her missing friend has
before. Her friend was an outsider, someone who didn't care for conventions,
someone who wasn't afraid to be different. Someone who loved her.
The girl doesn't know that her missing friend was already dead the other night, inside the frozen waterfall, one that resembles an ice palace. The girl doesn't know that for a long time, she'd be haunted by the secret her friend wanted to tell her, the gift her friend has left for her.
The wonder.
What did she wanted to tell me, the girl would wonder. She'd wonder again and again for a long, long time.
But, for that moment, all she wants to do is to stand at the edge of the playground. To see the world from her friend's perspective. To see the world how her friend once has seen.
She stands there, and watches.
Will she find the answer?
I'm afraid to read more.
Will I?
***
"Where do you think you're going?"
Zack's sharp voice stops me dead on my track. Should've known this wouldn't be that easy, but oh well. Too late now.
I turn around slowly, and meet his angry eyes. He stands at the end of the corridor, with Brin at his side. She asks, her black eyes wide with confusion and shock, "Max, what are you doing?"
"I'm leaving," I say.
Brin doesn't seem to understand at first. "Leaving?"
But Zack. Oh, Zack. He understands all too well. He rushes toward me, seemingly ready to deck me if required. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asks, his teeth clenched. "Get back to your quarters. Now!"
I don't follow his order. I just stand there, steadily meeting his glare with mine.
He watches me for a few second, silently.
Then something in him snaps. He snatches away a small denim bag I was carrying. He shakes it violently, and from its pocket, a book and a small, well-wrapped package fall.
His jaw hardens. With one fast motion, he carelessly picks up the package, and opens it.
There they are, my glasses. The lenses are palely illuminated by the low light of the corridor, and If I squint my eyes just enough, I can even see Zack's hardened face reflecting back as he glares at them.
Zack will never see the importance in them.
I do.
But then, Zack does the unexpected thing--he throws the glasses on the floor. Looking straight at my eyes, he steps on it, and crashes it into pieces.
He looks at me with his mouth tightly closed. He's waiting for my reaction.
Should've known. He won't let me go that easy.
There's nothing I can say to make him understand. I don't want to waste my breath. I just kneel down and pick up the book and the broken rim of the glasses.
This angers him further. "Max, goddammit, stop!"
He comes to take the book away, but I put it inside my jacket. "Don't even think about it," I warn him.
The anger in him becomes frustration. He exclaims, "Why are you doing this? Just why?"
I search his eyes for some kind of understanding. Maybe, maybe... "He won't leave me alone."
Maybe Zack would understand, maybe not. But that's the only answer I can give him.
"Who?" Brin comes closer, still unable to understand. "Lydecker?"
Zack understood. I can see it in his eyes. Well, not all, but at least a part of the reason. "Max," there's a hint of desperation in his voice that I never heard from him before, "Max, don't do this. It was just a mission, that's all."
It wasn't just a mission, and he knows it.
Maybe if I hadn't meet Logan Cale that fateful night, maybe then I wouldn't have to go through this.
But I met him, and killed him. Unless I can turn back time, it's too late.
Too damn late.
"I'm sorry," I say.
I'm sorry.
But whose voice is it, really?
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
The words circle inside my head.
A pale face looking up at me, sorrowful blues eyes with compassion, and a loud and clear bang--a gunshot.
'I'm sorry.'
His husky voice whispers still.
I look up to Zack. Whatever he sees in my eyes, he seems to realize he can't win me back. Not now. Not anymore.
He turns around. "If we see you the next time," his voice is tight, "you will be terminated according to our rule."
He doesn't look back, but I know, he has a soft spot for me. Just the fact he isn't killing me now proves that.
Though I do not doubt he will kill me the next time he sees me. Next time, he won't turn his back to me to hide his emotion-filled eyes. Next time, he won't waste this time talking. He won't hesitate. Fine by me, because I won't hesitate either.
I'll kill him the moment I see him.
"Where will you go?" Brin asks, panicking, "What will you do?"
What will I do?
The girl who left alone has to stand on the edge of the playground, like her friend once did. Replacement. Be in her friend's shoes. Be an outcast.
Logan Cale didn't tell me about those things. He neglected to mention that the story was more about the girl who is left alone than the one who dies. The girl who's haunted by the promise she had to made to her dead friend.
Did he know I'd read the book?
That bastard.
He won't leave me alone.
I give Brin a small smile, and turn around. I hope I won't see her again, because when I do, one of us will probably have to die.
He will never leave me alone. Even now.
So I go.
I go to stand at the edge of the playground.
***
~It will not last any longer now. The palace will fall. What the bird will do,
nobody knows. The bird will rise like a speck into the sky, wild with fear, when
the palace is shattered and falls.~
***
<END> 1/19/01
