The History Runner

5 - Stories

The bathroom worked. For Damon, that meant running water and a hot bath, his first in what felt like an eternity. Aaron also fixed him a hot supper, gave him new clothes, and packed Damon a bag filled with supplies. A broad smile graced the older man's face the entire time, making Damon realize how lonely Aaron must have been living alone.

"So who are you, Damon?" Aaron asked once he had finished his supper and stretched out by the fire. "I know you're not government, or I'd be dead, and you don't strike me as the adventurer type. So what's your business?"

Damon frowned. "I'm not supposed to tell you that."

"Let me tell you something," Aaron said, leaning forward. "If you're part of one of those groups who dreams of resisting the World Order, get out of it. Every last one of them has failed, and I doubt yours will be any different. I don't envy the deaths of those poor men."

Damon picked at his food.

"I won't pry," Aaron said.

Damon surreptitiously drew his satchel closer. Should he tell this man who he was? Yes, part of him said. If you should die, let at least one have knowledge of your mission.

"I'm not exactly part of one of those groups," Damon said, hoping it was the right decision. "We fight the World Order, but we do it through knowledge, not violence. I belong to the Archivists."

Aaron scratched his head. "You mean you spread classified information?"

"We spread forbidden information," Damon said. "Things about history. Real history."

"I thought you resisted the Order."

"We do resist the Order," Damon said. "You see, the history taught today is designed to make you think like they want you to. It speaks of how terrible everything was before the United World Order, why freedom is dangerous, why any form of dissent with the government leads to chaos. But little of what's said is true. We believe that if people realize what they've lost, or at least dream of something different, they'll rise up and resist. Even if we only reach a few people, that'll plant the seeds. I know it's a long shot, but we have to keep trying."

Aaron opened his mouth. Closed it. Then he swallowed audibly. "It's a familiar method."

Silence fell between them. Damon, feeling the conversation was unfinished, steeled himself and asked, "So, Aaron, where are you from?"

Aaron shifted uncomfortably, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You told me your story, so I guess I owe you mine" He took a deep breath. "I'll start from the beginning. I grew up in one of the super cities, New York-Boston, to be exact."

"It was there I met Phoebe. She was smart and perceptive. A little rebellious, never quite believed the crap they shoveled in our ears. Then one night, she found some old textbooks, ones that told the truth about history. She would sneak out at night and read them, then tell the stories to me. I doubt anyone noticed. Or cared."

Damon kept himself from gasping aloud. Laurel had found a Relic. Several Relics --things that were supposed to have been destroyed, but had somehow survived. They were incredibly rare, and it was a true Archivist's dream to find one.

"Later on, I went to work in one of the northern mines. Phoebe went with me, and though we didn't have the books with us, we practically had them memorized. We started telling the stories to the other miners."

"Then they found out." Aaron's voice broke. "They broke into our quarters and took her away. I got off with a mild punishment. But she... she hung for remembering the truth."

Damon bowed his head, his thoughts turning to his own friends.

"That's why I came out here. Ran away, found this cabin and its vast supplies, managed to add to them over the years. Kept myself hidden. But I've always wanted revenge against the World Order. I keep on hoping they'll fall, but..." He shrugged. "No one seems able to bring them down, and I'm too old to fight."

"I lost my friends too," Damon said after a pause, shuddering as he remembered the gunfire. "They destroyed our compound. We knew it had been coming. They'd been hitting our other bases around the world, so it seemed natural they would find us soon. But when the time came... they had it planned it out."

"They gave me everything. All of our files. They told me to run, to get to the safehouse as fast I could. That's where I'm heading now." He hadn't realized, but he'd started crying.

Aaron laid his hand on Damon's shoulder. "I'll help you the best I can," he said. "I can't join you, but if you ever need a refuge, I'll be here."

Damon nodded, grateful. "Thank you, Aaron."

They finished their supper in a companionable stillness, and Damon informed Aaron that he would be leaving in the morning.