The Timeservers

Chapter 39

New York City, New York

The Ivory Tower

December 19, 227 P.F.E

1007 hours

"Kelly," Via manages to choke out. She panics, looking around for something to put on the wound. The bedspread where he was lying is covered in his blood and it makes Via want to vomit. She takes the clean towel from the back of the door instead. Kelly sways slightly as she presses it to his abdomen and she puts one of his arms across her shoulders to support him.
"It's fine. There are probably another five-ish minutes before the pain hits, then another few minutes before unconsciousness. Worse has happened. The infirmary is on this floor, right? Stairs aren't the best idea right now. You're going to be okay to help me? We can't have you freaking out the whole time. Here, scream into this pillow." Kelly holds out a pillow and Via just gawks at it. "No scream? Cool, let's head out."
"How did this happen?" Via screeches as she starts to walk with Kelly. His right leg is hurt too, not taking all of his weight anymore and making his footsteps heavy.
"Thought there was no scream. Not really sure when it happened. There were a few opportunities for it to have happened. The adrenaline kept me from feeling it. It could have been ten minutes ago. Oh, just got a chill. We have three-ish minutes now. You're going to need to get a blanket, orange juice, and bandages. Would talk you through it at the moment but by then might be passed out, screaming, or pretty loopy from blood loss. We'll have to see."
"Stop being so calm! Freak out a little or be limp and act like you're actually terribly wounded! You being calm is terrifying!" Via yells. She doesn't intend to yell, she just can't help it.
"That's not helping. If I'm not calm, I'm bleeding out more. Neither of us wants that. I can feel my heartbeat all over my body. It's a weird feeling. That's the infirmary?" Kelly asks, pointing to a door.
"Yes, yes." Via opens the door and ushers Kelly inside. He seems to hesitate for a second, his energy dipping, before letting himself get dragged inside. Maybe this is the beginning of him getting loopy. There are a few beds all topped in white linens and the lights are glaring, making everything look harshly clean.
"Alright, find that stuff. Whatever you do; don't let me pass out. Keep me awake. Ambulances should get here fast but they'll treat the chancellors and candidates first. I need you to help me out here, Via." Kelly stares at Via, trying to make sure that she understands. He shakes his head to clear it a little. "Can you do my sister and yourself a favor and keep me alive? If I die she'll never forgive you and you don't want to be on the receiving end of my sister's anger."
"Can't even ask for a favor for yourself, huh tough guy?" Via jokes. She helps Kelly onto one of the beds and then turns to find what he needs. "Uh, what do you want to talk about?"
"Why are you a sympathizer?" Kelly asks. His voice is fading a little.
"I don't really want to talk about that."
"Humor a fatally wounded tough guy."
"Don't even joke about that!" Via orders, ripping open cupboards.
"You joked first. Tell me."
"You've read my files, right? It should have that stuff in it. I haven't read my file."
"Why not? It was the first thing I did when I got recruited."
"I never had the courage to. I didn't want to see myself boiled down, my whole life and everything about me just laid out by people who have never met me and were just sifting through data."
"We read them after you came," Kelly answers, his voice getting a little quieter.
"Then you know about how my parents left, and how they came back. I had been the perfect child, you know. I just thought I hadn't been perfect enough. If I had just been better they might not have left. So I was absolutely perfect. For eight years I was absolutely perfect. I was the ideal New American. I was going to bring them back just by being good," Via laughs. "They tell you that if you're good enough then everything will be fine. The world will work out for you. They don't tell you that things working that way are just a fantasy."
"Why stop doing it though?" Kelly asks.
Via finds the bandages, at last. She sets to work looking for something to sterilize the wound. "Alcohol, alcohol."
"You aren't seriously thinking of having a drink right now? Now is not a great moment to explore that mark-making enterprise," Kelly groans.
"I'm trying to help you. You could be a little less snarky about the whole thing. How many times have you been stabbed?"
"I stopped counting after the tenth time. This is only about the third time in New America though."
"I stopped being perfect because they came back. They got captured and brought to an integration camp. They'd lost most of their memories. They still knew they were in love with each other though. They didn't know they had a daughter. They had to be told. When they were told they refused to meet me. They didn't even want to hear my name. They were told I was a candidate, and that I was top of the class. I could have given them a life. Even with the marks, they would have gotten for being Historians. I could have given them a good life here, better than the one they left," Viasniffs, trying not to cry.
"When my parents left again I didn't understand. They chose whatever life they had in North America over me. They chose to be bad, over their dear, good daughter. Not so dear though, not dear enough to take with them the first time, not dear enough to even meet me the second time. I should have figured out that they didn't love me then. I couldn't accept it though. I decided that they had to have run away for some reason that linked back to love. They had to think that they would just be a burden to me, that I'd have a better life without them. They couldn't have known that when they left, they left me to be tortured every day by people who are supposed to be good. They couldn't have known that I would stay awake, crying, at night because I knew but couldn't admit that they didn't love me. I couldn't think of them as bad."
Via snatches another item from a cupboard, almost dropping it because of the shaking in her arms. She's not sure what exactly the shaking is from.
"I decided that I must be too good. I decided that they must have liked being bad and felt that I was too good and they thought I wouldn't do well there. So, I wanted to prove them wrong. I tried to do something that would earn me a strike, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. All I could do was sneak out. Sneaking out was the best thing I'd ever done. I felt free for the first time. I finally understood that some rules weren't here because we needed them. They were here because someone in a spot of power didn't like it. Someone who didn't know what they were doing decided they could tell people what was right and what was wrong. They were the wrong ones though. That's why I'm a sympathizer."