A Realization

Ruck spent every day in the Disporium Pits. The stinking, filthy Pits. In fact, Ruck had spent his entire life in them. He had been born in them, he had grown up in them, he would die in them. Him and Selv. Selv had been his chainmate since old Corin had died. Corin had died right there next to Ruck. One minute he had been sweating over his work, the next minute he was lying on the ground. Ruck had looked at him for a moment, then he had went back to work. Things like that happened every day. A couple of guards came over and disposed of the body. That night they brought Selv out and put him on the other end of Ruck’s chain.

Selv wasn’t like Corin at all. Selv was young, but he was old enough to hold up a Cutter on his own. Selv was also a Capture. It had been quite a while since anyone had seen a Capture. Ruck had certainly never seen one. Neither had Corin despite his advanced age. But here was a Capture, in the living flesh. People new because of the way he acted. Selv would wake Ruck up in the middle of the every night. He would be screaming in battle language and flailing around on the other end of the chain. At first Ruck would wonder what Selv was saying. Sometimes he would wake Selv up and ask him. Selv never remembered what he had been dreaming. Eventually Ruck began to become annoyed at Selv because he was keeping him awake. Ruck needed his sleep because the guards beat him if he collapsed. Lately Ruck had been getting beatings a lot.

“What is the news of the War?” Ruck asked Selv this question on a regular basis.

“I know nothing of it.” This was Selv’s stock response.

Ruck was also annoyed with Selv for his refusal to talk about the War. The guards didn’t care what anyone talked about as long as the Cutter beams kept glowing. The Natives often talked about the War and how their people would one day be liberated by a great Savior who would rain death on all of the Enemies. Ruck was dubious of this possibility, but he kept the thought to himself.

“Surely you must know something of the War.” Ruck was pursuing his usual line of attack.

“I was a technician on a freighter. I know nothing.” Selv was putting up his usual defense.

“Why do you speak battle language in you dreams?”

“All personnel in the Space Corps are required to learn battle language.” Selv was still sticking to his stock of responses. Ruck decided it was time to mix things up a bit.

“We had heard that our People were once again advancing on the Vega sector. Is this true?” Ruck had heard no such thing, but thought he might coax Selv into revealing something about their homeworlds at least.

“I really don’t know,” said Selv.

A youngster ran under Selv’s feet and picked up several chunks of Disporium ore. He carried them over to a small wagon and loaded them in. A group of youngsters began pulling the fully loaded wagon down to the railway. Soon they would be wielding Cutters as well. Ruck looked at the young People and wondered if they would ever see Free Space. He looked at Selv. The Capture. He wondered what secrets he was holding.

“Are you the Savior?” Ruck took a moment to stare at Selv. “The prophecy says that he will come among us from afar. It says he will speak strangely. You speak strangely.”

Selv turned and looked at Ruck. They stood there staring at each other. The guards began shouting at them. Both turned back to their work before the guards decided to do something more than shout. When the guards did something other than shout, it was never good.

“Where did this prophecy come from?” asked Selv.

Ruck sneaked another glance at Selv. No one questioned the prophecy. At least no one did it out loud. Why would they? The prophecy came from the old days. It came even before there were such things as Cutters and Captures and Natives.

“You don’t know the prophecy?” Ruck asked.

“Only what I’ve heard in the Pits. Otherwise, I’ve never heard of it before.”

Ruck nearly dropped his Cutter. The beam went wild, nearly cutting his foot off before he could regain control. Ruck was finding Selv to be incomprehensible. Had he truly never heard of the prophecy and did he really know nothing of the War? Incomprehensible.

“Where did you come from that you never heard the prophecy?”

“I was a technician on a freighter,” said Selv. Ruck thought he sounded like an irritated guard, repeating the same thing over and over. He began to get angry at Selv.

“I know that. Do you think I am stupid? All you ever say is that you are from a freighter. Don’t you think I would know that by now? I want to know where you were born, where you grew up!”

Selv paused then said, “I am from the Vega Sector.”

“Which world?” asked Ruck in a harsh voice.

“I am from the Sol System.”

“I know nothing of systems, tell me the world,” said Ruck near fury.

“All right, I’m from Earth. Are you happy now?”

Ruck looked at Selv in astonishment. This was even more incomprehensible.

“Listen Ruck. I wasn’t going to tell anyone this, but the War is over. It’s been over for a hundred years. The Humans aren’t the Enemy anymore.”

“What about us? Why have we not been set free?” Ruck’s voice was frantic.

“No one knows we are here. And if they did, they still wouldn’t do anything about it. The War nearly destroyed our People. They would not survive another.”

Ruck had stumbled backward and dropped his cutter. The Humans had been shouting at him, but now they were done shouting. They were walking toward him. They took out their clubs and began beating Ruck, but he was numb to the world. As they beat him he stared up into the darkening sky. Selv was begging him to him to get up and return to work, but Ruck couldn’t hear him. Finally the Humans stopped and stood him up placing the Cutter into his hands. Ruck just stood there holding the Cutter and staring at nothing.

“Then there is no hope,” said Ruck. It was a statement, not question.

“I’m sorry Ruck. I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to lose hope. But I couldn’t stand the questions anymore. I’m not your Savior. I’m not even a Warrior. I’m just a Disporium smuggler who was unlucky enough to get caught. I wish I could set you free. But I can’t.”

Ruck turned and went back to work. It was all he knew how to do. His world had just been completely changed, all except the work. He threw himself into it. He worked at such a pace that the youngsters could barely keep the ore cleared away from his feet.

“Ruck, you will tire yourself if you keep up that pace. The guards will beat you again.”

Ruck slowed a little. “Why do you care what happens to me? No one cares except the Savior, and now…” Ruck couldn’t go on.

“I don’t want you to die Ruck,” Selv paused long enough to pat Ruck’s shoulder.

“I do not want to die either Selv. I want to get out of here. I want to see the homeworlds. Have you ever seen the homeworlds Selv?”

“Only once, long ago,” said Selv in a sad tone.

“What were they like?” asked Ruck.

“They were mangled and scarred. The air was rank and dirty. They were much like these Pits. The War took a great toll. The People were poor and hungry. There is no food and no money. We are dying.”

Ruck wanted to ask why the people did not fight, but he knew the answer. The People were broken just like the Natives were. They had no hope, no reason to fight. It was easier to just live and die.

“Do you want to get out of here Selv?” asked Ruck slowing his work pace even further.

“Of course I would Ruck. I would do anything to get out of here,” said Selv.

Ruck continued. “The Natives don’t want to leave. They don’t even think about it. They come and do their work and teach their children to fear Humans. They even teach their children how to do the work. How to haul wagons and use Cutters. They teach the children the prophecy and the children grow up and teach their children the prophecy. I have never known freedom, none of us have. It is foreign to us, so we do not seek it out.”

Ruck lay his Cutter on the ground. The Humans began shouting at him. They did not shout long.

“Ruck, what are you doing? They’ll kill you.” Selv picked up Ruck’s Cutter and tried to hand it to him.

“I am setting us free,” said Ruck.

Twenty Years Later:

Ruck stood above the Disporium Pits. He looked down in them. They were silent and empty. The air welled up out of them and rushed past him. He turned and looked at the stone monument behind him. A statue of a Person stood holding a Cutter. His foot was planted triumphantly on the mutilated bodies of four Human guards. The inscription at the base read: “Selv the Savior.”