The Nature of Change

Crucible (Andy 07)

There's a curious apprehension in the room as I get settled back into the container.

Conversations trail off, and the mindlink gets ever quieter.

So... how is this dissonance going to resolve?

After a surprisingly quick yet agonizingly long wait, the mindlink is finally silent.

<Okay, kid, what the hell do you think you've got that we haven't already thought of?> someone asks.

His voice is... familiar.

He's the guy who asked if I was okay.

Caterpillars sprout into sudden butterflies in my stomach, and they're not the exciting kind. They're harbingers of dread and anxiety, as I hesitate in a moment of clarity, realizing my position.

How is he going to take me seriously?

What do I even have?

What if they've thought of it already?

The butterflies start doing aerial combat maneuvers.

They can see that I don't know what I'm doing... They won't believe me...

It builds.

My breathing gets more intense. It's viscerally hard to move, or even think, anything other than how they'll react. They won't believe me, they'll reject me, they'll throw away the idea of ever leaving and I'll be TRAPPED HERE-

And why would they do anything else? They don't care, they don't have any reason-

I feel the tone of the mindlink shift, and a sinking feeling sets in.

It's true... they believe that...

I... can't...

<OKAY, CUT IT OUT.> A familiar voice - Aurora, the one who hummed with me - slices through the chatter, a katana ripping through unarmored flesh, stunning the rest of the mindlink with its sheer force and shock. <Give the kid a chance, will you? You're better than this. We're better than this.>

Dead silence for a few moments.

<Fine.>

It's the guy who asked if I was okay, who took the brunt of the outburst - my outburst.

He sounds reluctant... but...

I take a deep breath.

<Look at the boxes we're in.>

<... oooookay? We've tried to get out. They're impenetrable. Claws don't do anything against 'em.>

<What's holding them down?>

<We've thought about that. Even if we push them off, we still have to deal with the lid.>

<But we don't need it to open the lid completely.>

<Eh?>

<All we need is for it to open enough that we can get a good grip, right?>

<... Shit, you're right.>

<... wait, you didn't think of that already?> I can feel my ears jolt upward in surprise.

<Look at how these boxes are designed to fall,> Jeff interjects. <The odds of managing to fall in just the right way to open the lid is really slim...>

<Okay, but look at how many of us there are.>

There's a sudden shift across the mindlink.

I try to place it, but I can't quite pin it down...

<Kid's got a point,> another voice quips with the mental equivalent of an elbow-nudge to a few others halfway across the room. There's an impression of a glare, and a chorus of chuckles.

A chorus.

Until now, they've been thinking about it as individuals.

But now... we're together.

<And all it takes is one,> Aurora points out.

Murmured nods all around. My ears pick up rustling and shifting from many of the boxes.

<What then?> He Who Asked queries.

<... Good question,> I say. <What do we know about what comes after the boxes? What else have you thought about trying before?>

A new voice perks up, thickly laced with a German-sounding accent. <Well, there was that one guy - Frederick, right? Who managed to fight off the scientists on the way back from testing and make a break for it. We have bits of information from him via the mindlink, but he didn't get very far...>

Even as he tells the rather disheartening story, I sense a buzz in the mindlink...

People are talking about this now.

<What's your name, anyway?> I wonder at He Who Asked, noting his relative quietness.

<Russel McCabe. Hey, listen- sorry, kid. I know what it's like to get set off, but I didn't realize it was like that... My kid is the same. Real anxious.>

<Your... kid... oh god. I-> The beginnings of a fiery rage start to spark within me, stomach-butterflies twisting into knives and stabbing out, demanding to be set free.

Russel sighs. <Don't worry 'bout me. The others needed someone like you, someone who wouldn't take no for an answer. We'll... we'll be getting out of here.>

With effort, I manage to quash the rage down to a loose collection of embers, giving a solemn nod.

<Okay, hold on,> someone interjects. <Why are we risking this now, specifically?>

A few grumbles of agreement. My renewed confidence falters suddenly. If they just ignore me again...

<Yeah, good point! What makes now any better than some time in the future? We have no unique opportunity now, other than some kid who can't bide his goddamn time.>

The agreement grows a little...

But just as it grows, resistance grows to meet it. Within the mindlink, I can feel lines of battle being drawn, sides being taken... and the resolute resistance outnumbers the old guard of agreement.

I feel a sudden surge of intent. The rage ignites once more, just enough, and...

<Yeah, and what makes you think we gain anything by waiting?>

Intentions start to falter.

Jeff raises his own voice. <If we are going to have any hope of ever getting out of here, we need to get up off our asses eventually. Sitting around here dithering until we find an advantage is going to lead to us wasting the time we could have had back out there for no reason.>

<And what about the people who come after us? They're not going to stop taking people if we get away.> Even as he continues to defend his point, the initial proponent of the idea seems to be doubtful and uncertain as well.

<What about them?> It's Aurora, this time. <We can't do ANYTHING to help them from here. If we want to help them, we NEED to escape.>

<They won't have anyone to help them escape...>

The last dregs of opposition, easily toppled with a few well placed words...

And in that instant, for the first time in my life, I know the words.

<Not forever,> I cut in. <Once we get back to the world at large... they'll have us.>