Desert Dust
By Rachel Crabtree
Ambrogio watched as Moony put on his jacket. He clenched his teeth and crossed his arms, unhappy that he’d forgotten how cold deserts get at night – but as always, he didn’t let that interfere with the hopeful mood he had worked to keep up consistently. He just wished he had his own jacket.
He scooted closer to the fire.
Trying to get his numb fingertips off his mind, he asked Moony, “So what’s next-- what do we do tomorrow?”
As Moony plopped down on the blanket he’d finished smoothing out upon the hard, desert ground, he replied “I’m getting you back to our base as soon as possible. Then, if you’re permitted to stay, we’ll get you a gun.”
“How long will it take to get back to your base?”
“I’m not exactly certain. I’m not really a math genius either; I’ve never calculated or counted the distance.”
“Where do you get guns out here?” asked Ambrogio, waving his arms out and gesturing to the empty desert.
“You either take one from someone else, or you hack a gun dispense machine – both of which are dangerous. Though I do recommend the second option. It’s a lot easier when you have me around. You’re less likely to get killed in hand to hand combat, too.”
Ambrogio cocked his head. “Killed?”
Moony nodded, strands of his light blue hair falling on his rosy skin – now fiercely illuminated by firelight.“You don’t take your guns from your allies, do you? You have to fight for them – though that’s a bit difficult if you…ya know…don’t have a weapon…
“Besides, I’m one of those people who hold power and defense in their brain; I’ve never been…exactly…the strong type,” finished Moony, taking a glance at his own frail (and slightly flabby) arm. He looked at Ambrogio.
“That’s one thing we’ll have to establish when we get to the base; your role. Have any idea what it’s going to be yet?”
Ambrogio thought for a moment. His best friend, Blake, was always the one who was good at everything. Despite being a rebel, he was one of the smartest of all minors in the sector. Not only good with academics, but the arts too. Ambrogio was average as far as school expectations went, but wasn’t good at much anything else. That made Ambrogio think – it wasn’t him who was supposed to be out here, being recruited by a rebel faction and joining in attempts to aid a revolution. It was supposed to be Blake. So he shook his head.
“That’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”
Moony’s words seemed to float away and fade. Ambrogio kept staring at a distant dead bush, scorched by the sun, and thought more – which, honestly wasn’t a good idea. He did it anyway.
His mind relapsed over all the events that had happened in his living memory – though this was difficult, for the government-issued drugs obscured reality, and were meant to.
He could remember the first time he met Blake – his ivory colored skin seeming to radiate when introducing himself. He remembered how he seemed to hypnotize all who listened to him – especially teachers, though that was more for fun. He remembered how often he would need to calm Ambrogio down daily – but never seemed to really mind. He was the best thing he could have ever asked for – teaching Ambrogio new things, like to oppose conformity, to embrace his difference, despite how positively forbidden it was.
That was the only thing that he ever missed these days. He still couldn’t believe Blake was gone. He always seemed to find a way out of things, Ambrogio had already concluded that Blake wasn’t dead. That was impossible.
“Hey, are you going to sleep sitting up, staring at that cactus, or do you want to sleep on an actual cot?”
“It’s a bush,” said Ambrogio, whipping his head away from the dead bush and getting up to join Moony on the cot.
“What’s the difference?” mumbled Moony shifting over to the other side of the cot, leaving about a foot of space between them. He seemed relaxed as ever, with his hands behind his head, laid out on his back. Ambrogio, however, was the complete opposite. His state of curiosity and anxiousness hadn’t died down much from when he first met Moony exactly 25 hours ago (he’d been counting). There wasn’t a comfortable way he could lay; all parts of him that had been exposed to the blazing desert sun were, of course, burnt. Simply laying his arms on the cot was painful, and despite the comfort the cool air was expected to bring to his peeling skin, it stung.
But he couldn’t complain; he was alive.
“Hey, Moony?”
“What?”
“How did you get your name? that is just a nickname, right?”
Moony turned to face away from him. “It’s too late for this crap,” he mumbled.
“I can’t sleep, dude.”
“Don’t call me dude.”
“If I call you Moony, I’ll need to know the reason why you’re called that.”
“You don’t need to know anything.”
“Yes I do.”
Moony stayed quiet for a minute and Ambrogio thought he might have fallen asleep, not giving anymore thought to his question. He was wrong, for Moony’s voice carried out through the cold desert air a few moments later.
“You know what, it’s not too personal. I’ll tell you.” He turned over and faced Ambrogio.
“In our crew, we’re all named after gemstones,” he said, holding up a necklace that had been hidden under his shirt, with a round gem at the bottom. “I’m named after moonstone. Obviously, you wouldn’t call a person that, so I’m called Moony.
“Every rebellious faction has a theme for names. Some name their guns and take the name themselves, some people name themselves after bugs, numbers, or just random things in general. Some use Latin roots and come up with their own names. It all depends on how you interpret a revolution, I guess, your purpose now, whatever you want. That’s the beauty of it all. Complete freedom.” Moony turned, laid on his back again, and closed his eyes.
Staring at his facial profile against the background of thousands of stars, Ambrogio asked, “What if freedom scares you?”
“Then that’s okay,” he said with a sense of gentle finality, “we’ll guide you until you get used to it.”
Ambrogio calmed down a bit more with Moony’s words, feeling as if maybe sleep was possible that night. A smile made its way onto his face when Moony spouted his last words until morning, “ – if you’re permitted to stay with us.”
*****
Ambrogio looked down at his own shadow as he walked behind Moony, the sun beating down on his ocher-brown skin. He was now subconsciously scrunching up his neck for the purpose of rescuing it from getting more burnt than it already was. Other than that, his burnt limbs were doing better. This was because Moony realized that Ambrogio wasn’t just complaining when he said that his arms hurt like hell. He had gotten second degree burns, and after Moony observed this, he gave him his jacket. It fit pretty well. It didn’t smell too bad either.
They’d been walking for a while, and Ambrogio’s shadow was disappearing as the middle of the day and the sun’s direct rays approached. The thought came to him, as it had multiple times before – why didn’t Moony have a way of transportation other than on foot? Now was the perfect time to ask, so he did.
“Hey, Moony?”
“What?”
“Don’t you have a car or something?”
“I don’t, our crew does. Two cars.”
“Then why aren’t you in one?”
Moony sighed a frustrated sigh. “Your curiosity is going to be the death of you, you know that?”
“Yes, I do. Did you know that you’re doing what you’re fighting against? Freedom comes with the ability to question things made by people on a higher caliber than you are.”
“Everyone has their own definition of freedom, but out here, it’s understood that, if you aren’t recruited and trusted within a faction, then you aren’t trusted with our information.”
Ambrogio ran and caught up with Moony so he could look at him directly.
“I’m just curious –”
“No crap.”
It was difficult to keep up with Moony; he had much longer legs than Ambrogio, what with him being about a foot taller than him.
“I don’t understand why you’re so intent on keeping information from me,” said Ambrogio, simultaneously looking from Moony to the ground, “you can trust me!”
Moony was so affronted by what Ambrogio had just said that he stopped walking.
Ambrogio tripped and almost fell, but Moony caught him by the arm. Then, staring directly into his eyes, he said, “Really? Really? Do you think we can just go around trusting random people? I can’t believe how naive you are! You could be working for the pigs, for all we know! Or even worse, the corporation authorities!”
“What are you talking about? Pigs? Surely pigs as a whole species don't have a personal vendetta against you.”
Moony let go of Ambrogio’s arm and stepped back.
“No, pigs aren't mad at us.” He started walking again. “I guess I can’t blame you for what you were never taught. Pigs are a word for policemen. Hey, there’s the road-”
“What road?”
“The one we need to follow.”
Ambrogio just stopped talking and followed Moony. They eventually did come across a road, but Ambrogio wasn’t sure how Moony had managed to see it earlier. They followed it, and while doing so, Ambrogio thought of another question.
“Hey, Moony?”
Moony sighed.
“Why do rebels use nicknames?”
“Can’t we just hold off on the questions until you’re recruited – if you’re recruited?”
“But then we’ll forget them. These are important, significant questions.”
“If they’re so important then you won’t be likely to forget them.”
“But I’m forgetful!”
“Then get checked for dementia.”
Ambrogio cocked his head again. “Get checked for what?”
Moony ran his hands through his hair. “They really don’t teach you anything. It’s ridiculous.”
Ambrogio stayed quiet for a little while, until he smiled and said, “So back to the question… why don’t rebels just use their birth names?”
“Using your birth name is a hint that you have a place in the SE Corporation society. That you have a reserved place in – that you belong in – the society that we’re fighting against. It’s also dangerous.”
“How so?”
“Your birth name is attached to your full identity – all your records. If you use your birth name, and an SE worker hears about it, you’re done. That's one of the biggest things getting in the way of Superior Existence’s victory. They can arrest us, but they can’t execute us if our identity isn’t certain.”
Ambrogio looked down, thinking. That made a lot of sense.
“So do you name yourself, or do you have other people name you?”
Moony shrugged. “Either one.”
“What do you think my name should be?”
He looked at Ambrogio and smiled. Wow, this was the first time he didn’t seem to be a pain in Moony’s neck.
“I think you should be called Curious George.”
Ambrogio smirked. “No really, am I going to be named after a gemstone like you? Or something else?”
“I already told you, you’re Curious George!”
A building started coming into view, and Ambrogio for once didn’t take the opportunity to ask about it, he instead said, “No.”
“Alright, if you’re recruited, then you will be named after a gemstone.”
“What gemstone?” Ambrogio stepped over a particularly large bush.
“I don’t know. I’m not the gemstone expert, Amber is. Dear god… wait until you meet her. She is obsessed with gems. Metals, too. She has the periodic table memorized!”
“What’s the periodic table?”
Moony sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. “I’m not even surprised anymore,” he said.
*****
Moony and Ambrogio walked up to the building. Ambrogio saw now the front of the building, and concluded that it was a gas station, for it had several gas pumps.
“Is – is this your base?” asked Ambrogio. Moony didn’t answer. He walked up to the front door. It was made of glass, but you couldn’t see through it, for it was covered with a dark curtain on the inside.
Moony knocked on the door, then said, “It's Moony.” There was silence for a few seconds.
“Moony…” said the person behind the door in an amazed tone, “We thought you were dust!”
“Well… I'm here aren't I?”
There was a sound of shuffling behind the door and the curtains shifted as well. The door soon opened, but ever so slightly. Between the doorframe and the door itself, ambrogio saw a small mirror with the dark reflection of the person inside. The person then whipped the mirror away, Closed the door, and sounds of chains flailing and locks being unlocked erupted from behind it. Soon enough it opened again, and this time all the way. There Ambrogio saw a rough-looking man in a wheelchair, staring up at him and Moony in nothing other than amazement.
“Come in.” He rolled back away from the door and Moony walked inside. Ambrogio followed him.
There they entered a dark room, only lit by one lightbulb. The space was only about four square feet in length as well as width, and this made Ambrogio feel a bit claustrophobic. He followed Moony out of the next doorway - which instead of having a door, had another dark curtain.
Out of the last doorway, there was a seemingly normal sitting room. It contained an ugly orange couch, discreetly covered with a navy blanket, and many, many, chairs. Some were cushioned, some plastic. Still, Moony kept walking and the man kept rolling. They went into what Ambrogio thought was likely the last room they would enter, and sat down - well, just Moony, the man in the wheelchair was obviously already sitting. Ambrogio joined the both of hem and sat down on a decaying, yet surprisingly comfortable chair. It felt incredible to sit on something like that after two days of walking through the desert.
Ambrogio looked up from his chair and got with the program soon after; the mood in the room was something he couldn't quite place, but called for quite a bit of awkwardness.
“How’ve you been, doctor? How much catching up do I have to do?””
“A lot,” the man replied, “but first, tell me who he is.” He gestured to Ambrogio with one hand.
“A rebel. I found him in the desert.”
“When?”
“A couple days ago.”
The man stared at Moony so hard, Ambrogio thought that not even a falling bomb could get him out of his head. He eventually said, “well then… I guess we should inform the crew, huh?”
“Yeah, we should,” replied Moony in one of the smallest tones he'd heard. It almost sounded as if we was ashamed of something.
The man wheeled around, pulling back Yet another curtain to the entrance to another room. When he flicked the lights on, Ambrogio saw through the transparent glass window that it was a room for broadcasts and recording.
Moony didn't move as he stared at one scratch in particular on the wall ahead of him. Ambrogio listened and watched as the man flicked on switches and adjusted things in his studio. Soon enough, he started talking. Ambrogio couldn't hear him, for he had closed the door.
He then proceeded to turn everything off - turn things back up and back down. The man rolled out of the room and stopped before Ambrogio and Moony. Went back to staring at Moony.
“How did you make it?” The man asked.
“I'm not quite sure myself.”
The man turned and finally looked at Ambrogio. Despite looking at him, he still talked to Moony. “Does he have a name yet?”
Moony smiled. “Curious George, but I don't think that's final.”
The man in the wheelchair smiled too. “I guess I can assume why you're named after that?”
“... Yeah, I guess so.”
“Well… all there is to do now is wait. Have a comic,” he said, wheeling around to a stack of comics, taking two, and handing them to them.
Ambrogio opened his and started reading. His was called “Mausoleum Doors.” He'd never read anything like this before. It was obviously fictional - Blake had introduced him to fiction in the first place, so he could recognise it - but it was still very new to him. He'd heard Blake talk about comics before - about how they combined art and words to create one incredibly expressive story, but he could never get his hands on one. He didn't have a place to hide them. Blake had talked about how all of them were from a time long before either of them were ever born. A time when ideas clashed among individuals and when people fought fights and felt emotions like sadness and anger. He said that even though everyone thought that time was dark and terrible, the people of that time had made things so extraordinary that it was ridiculous to think that humanity was at its lowest point. He said that art and fiction were among those extraordinary things.
As of three pages in, it was established that the main character had moved to a new town, but was having second thoughts about buying a house there because things had been so undeniably creepy.
There were a lot of things in the story that Ambrogio didn't understand, for, as Blake had said, it was made in an era before him. That was one of them, buying a house. People didn't buy houses. Houses weren't even called houses anymore. You and your family unit were assigned to your living compartment. They were all the same anyway. Why would you want to buy a house, anyway? That was such a waste of carbons. You could save up your carbons for something else. Like more pills.
Ambrogio kept reading.
The character eventually met the mayor – who seemed to be the strangest of all people in his town. A few pages later, the character was taking a shower, but water didn’t come out. He called a plumber. Two men came. At this point, Ambrogio was just skimming the words. The plumber went into the guy’s basement and found a dead body! This was getting interesting –
There was a knock on the door. Ambrogio and Moony looked up at the same time. The man in the wheelchair rolled over to the door and performed the same ritual as he did with Moony. When the person was let in, Ambrogio heard a male voice say, “where is he?”
***********
The man in the wheelchair spoke back to the person at the door in a low voice, so that Ambrogio could just barely hear the rumble of it. He heard them walk out of the entrance way and eventually came to appear in the doorway.
He was tall, but didn’t look much older than Ambrogio. His dark eyes immediately found Moony.
“You,” he breathed, “how - why are you even hear? How dare you come here after what you did?”
“I have a person. All rebels are required to bring those who are lost back -”
“You're not part of us anymore! You're alone now! Leave!”
Moony didn't say anything. He didn't move. He was staring at that scratch on the wall again. The man in the doorway took a deep, shaky breath.
“I'm trying my best right now not to beat the crap out of you,” he said.
“Thank you,” said Moony.
The man stood, his eyes watering, as he ran his hands through his jet black hair. He looked away from Moony, and instead let his eyes rest upon a messy bookshelf across the room. He was thinking hard, debating something.
Ambrogio took the time to study him. Black hair, black eyes, black attire- even black tattoos on his neck. Now he could confidently conclude that this was Onyx.
“You know what Moony? This can be a redemption. I'll allow you to come back… but if you slip up one more time, you're done. No matter how many lost people you find in the desert and bring back, we will leave you to die out there.
“You're also going to need to be very passionate about finding Phoenix. For me to ever forgive you, you'll need need to bring him back- alive if possible. And it is possible.”
“Yes sir,” said Moony.
Onyx’s eyes fell upon Ambrogio. “I guess it's time for our warm welcome. Where are the interrogation questions, doctor?”
“They're in the filing cabinet.”
“Which drawer?”
“The top one. It's in the front most folder.”
“Thank you,” said Onyx, leaving the room. “Moony, get the laptop.”
“Yes sir,” Moony replied, turning around and grabbing the piece of technology behind him.
“Get the detector, too” Onyx called out. Moony turned around again, rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a round hunk of metal that wasn't much bigger than a hand. He took the wire that was attached to its side and plugged the other end to the laptop.
Onyx returned a minute or so later with a green folder that had - ever so unsurprisingly - ‘Interrogation Questions: The Newcomer’ written on the front.
“Alright kid, if you can answer all of these, we’ll look at the results and determine whether or not you can stay with us. Do you have the recorder, Doc?”
“Yes, it's in the studio.” He turned, rolled into the studio, and rolled out, holding a grey, ancient looking recorder in one hand.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Do you want to switch rooms?”
“No, this is good. Moony, are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Kid, are you comfortable, can we get you a drink or something?” he asked Ambrogio.
“Yeah, i'm comfortable, i'm fine.”
“Okay, let's start.”
The man in the wheelchair clicked a button on the recorder.
Onyx cleared his throat and read from a paper inside the folder. “All who are presently in this room with the exception of yourself are trusted with rebel faction information. This means that your personal information is in safe hands. If you have any questions please feels free to ask.
“Refusal to answer questions is not taken lightly. Please tell us upfront if you have problems remembering your past. This is not an uncommon case.
“A small machine will be attached to your hand presently.”
Moony moved to put the round piece of metal on ambrogio's hand. When he did, beeps started emitting from the laptop. It sounded very much like a heart monitor.
“This machine will not cause you any discomfort or pain.
“Understand that this is a process we must undergo, and if failure to complete this process occurs, you will not be permitted to stay with us.
“As of this moment, Part One of “Interrogation Questions: the Newcomer will begin with subject 934.
“Part One: background, family, and medication.
“Your full name?”
“Ambrogio Campagna Bellucini.”
“Your birth date and your age?”
“I'm fifteen, my birthdate is June 5th, 2053.”
“What sector of central city did you last live in?”
“The second.”
“Your sequence in education?”
“Um… mid second category education. I graduated all classes on time and followed the standard sequence.”
“Describe the basics of the family you lived with back in central city.”
“My mother was thirty, my father was thirty-one, my mother worked as a pharmacist, and my father was a nutrient distributor.”
“Do you have current close relations with Superior Existence Corporation followers?”
“Not really.”
“have you been in a rebellious faction before?”
“No.”
“Did you take the default prescription of Superior Existence Corporation-issued drugs?”
“No.”
“What did you take instead?”
“Well, I used to take extra Emotional Tranquility drugs as well as the Acceptance drug, but other than that, my dosage was normal. Then my friend said I shouldn't take the medication - he said that it blinded us of what our life really is and steals our potential to change it.”
“You had a smart friend. Can I ask why he isn't with you?”
“He was arrested.” Ambrogio looked down in discrete shame.
“That's unfortunate. Have you taken any medication in the past twenty-four hours?”
“No.”
“Do you have any medication with you?”
“No.”
“Part One of ‘Interrogation Questions: The Newcomer’ on subject 934 is complete. Thank you for your cooperation.”
The man in the wheelchair clicked the recorder off. Moony reached over to take the hunk of metal off his hand, then pressed something on his laptop to make the beeping stop.
“Look over the recording,” said Onyx.
“Completely steady the entire interrogation.”
“Alrighty then,” Onyx looked at Ambrogio, “all your questions were acceptable. You can join us.
“Still, even though the main part of recruiting is done, you'll have to go through a few more things - nothing difficult. You just need to carry out a task to prove that you're really up for joining us.
“So, first, we need to figure out what your role should be. We can't grade you on a task that doesn't suit you. That will start tomorrow. As of right now, let's get in the car and go to the base. Maybe Moony can explain a few things to you there.”
Moony stood up, so Ambrogio did the same. He followed Moony and Onyx out of the room, joined them in saying their goodbyes to the man in the wheelchair, and left. Outside, Ambrogio saw a yellow trans-am, spray painted with several designs and symbols. The owners of the car definitely would have been arrested back in Central City.
Moony and Onyx got into the front seats, so Ambrogio sat in the back. The ride didn't take but about ten minutes, and the timeframe was filled with music blasting from the radio.
“There are rebel radio stations?” Ambrogio had asked.
“Of course,” Moony replied, “the Doctor - the guy we just saw - this is his radio station.”
When they'd arrived at the base, Ambrogio was at first incredibly unimpressed. Just like at the gas station, he skeptically asked “Is this your base?”
The answer turned out to be yes. As they walked up to a structure that looked nothing more than an old, wooden house, Onyx knocked on the door and said “It's Onyx. I've got the new recruit and Moony.”
The door was painted yellow, it's paint chipped off all over it. When it opened, Ambrogio saw more paint chips fall to the ground.
Behind the door were two people - a girl with an amazed expression, and a guy with a confused look on his face.
“Moony?” The girl asked.
“Clearly,” said Onyx, going inside and brushing past them. Moony was now looking extremely uncomfortable as he followed Onyx.
Ambrogio saw the interior of the house and suddenly felt that the phrase “Don't judge a book by it’s cover” could not have been truer. The space inside was very modern, though that was somewhat difficult to see because There were many, many filing cabinets - some stacked upon each other to reach the ceiling. There were ladders in front of every wall. The few other people that were in the room turned and stared at Moony.
“What's he doing here?” Asked one person.
“I'm afraid that’s none of your business,” replied Onyx defiantly, not even looking at the person. “I’ll explain everything tonight. Rhod, schedule an all member meeting.”
“Yes sir,” said Rhod, a man with fire truck red hair.
Ambrogio’s biggest shock of all was the enormous staircase in the center of the room, going down an undeterminable amount of floors. The room they were in now had many windows, and the sunlight pouring through them reflected through the staircase. Though it did have a rug, the stairs seemed to have a mirror coating on them, so from what Ambrogio could see, it carried the sunlight down all the floors.
As Onyx started walking down the stairs, he asked a person above them, “Where's Amber?”
“Sixth Floor, in the Office of the Arts. At least, that's where Bismuth last saw her, but that wasn't too long ago.”
“Thank you.”
They walked down one flight of stairs, and when they came upon the bottom, Ambrogio was caught off guard by the hanging contraption over the door in front of him. It was a house, and just like the stairs, it was made of mirror. A sign above the door in front of it said “the Office of Architecture.” They passed it and kept walking.
The next two floors were floors of apartments. Still, in front of the main doors, they had mirroring and hanging contraptions as well. One was a star, the other was a cube.
On the fourth floor, a sign above the main door said ‘the Office of Projects and Organization.’ The hanging piece on this floor was something with three slats of mirror, each a different length and shape, with a different symbol on each piece.
The next floor was again, just a floor of apartments, and in front of the door, there hung a hollow cylinder with another cylinder inside it.
Then, finally on the sixth floor, there hung the most beautiful contraption yet. Something like a chandelier, made with what looked like broken shards of mirror, hung in front of a door with the caption ‘the Office of the Arts.’ Onyx opened the door to reveal a hallway, and at the end of it, there was another door With the caption ‘main office.’
This door had carved designs covering it, as well as colored tissue paper hanging from the top.
Onyx opened this door as well. It revealed a room full of obscure light, tampered with by more mirror contraptions. There were people moving around everywhere. Ambrogio saw glimpses of many things: painted canvases, jewelry, clothing, typewriters, spray paint, glitter. It was a beautiful and colorful room, and Ambrogio needed to take a moment to enjoy it. It was refreshing to his eyes after seeing years of nothing but monochromatic white and desert dust. Now he understood why Blake yearned so fiercely to change the world - who wouldn't want this?
Onyx walked up to a girl with amber hair and ocher eyes who looked up from the crystals she’d been shaping.
“Sir?” she said, looking up questionably at Moony.
“As you can see, we have a new recruit.”
“Oh… Hello there!”
“Hello,” replied Ambrogio with a smile and an awkward wave.
She stood up, and Ambrogio felt unsurprised with the fact that she was taller than him. Onyx started walking and crossed the room, back to the door. They left the room and in the hallway, Onyx turned to Moony and Amber and said, “I’ll leave the explaining to you guys, i have a meeting to plan.”
“Okay, see you later,” said Amber.
“Yep,” Onyx replied in an exasperated tone, going back up the stairs.
Amber turned to Ambrogio.
“Well, are you ready?”
“Sure,” replied Ambrogio.
**********
Amber walked down the hall to the door closest to the main door. She opened it, and Ambrogio saw what Moony had been talking about with her obsession with gemstones. There were posters all over the wall of gemstones and crystals. On one wall, there was a shelf of crystals as decoration. On another, there were numerous drawers that Ambrogio guessed held more gems.
“So, you have to have a name. Everyone in our crew is named after gemstones. Look at the chart over there,” Amber pointed at one of the largest posters across the room, “and see if there’s a gem that interests you.”
Ambrogio did as he was told and looked at the poster. It displayed hundreds of gems, though many were crossed off.
“Our crew has around three hundred members, so there are only a few options left.”
If Amber meant a few to be about sixty, she was right. Ambrogio was overwhelmed.
“So we’re all named after gems - not the gems exactly. You can shape the gem name however you want. To be more masculine or feminine or whatever.”
Ambrogio still stood there, completely unsure where to start with that process. Moony seemed to sense his need for help, for he said, “How about we go over the rules first, Amber.”
“Oh, yeah, sure! Sorry, some people need a lot of time, some people choose right away - everyone’s different. Yeah, yeah… let's start with the rules.” She walked over to one set of drawers, and at the top one, she pulled out a binder with splattered paint on the cover. At the bottom of the cover, the title ‘Rules and Expectations’ was shown written in purple. It reminded Ambrogio very much of school.
“We really tried not to make this too long, so i’ll just browse over it for you if you have any questions, please feel free to ask.” Ambrogio nodded his head.
Amber read through something like a student handbook, and - just like in school - Ambrogio didn't pay much attention. At the end, Amber did mention that if you broke the rules three times, you were kicked out of the faction and banished from the base as well as thrown out into the desert completely alone where you would likely die. That made Ambrogio put two and two together.
“Hey Moony?” He asked as Amber stopped reading.
“What?”
“Where you banished from the base?”
Moony looked affronted. Though he seemed to sit there for a while, his lips agape, thinking, he eventually looked away from him and nodded slowly.
“Why?”
Moony shook his head. Amber interjected in his decision though, by saying “things would make a bit more sense for him later if you if you did explain. I think that was what Onyx was talking about anyway.”
Moony ran his fingers through his hair, looking absolutely exasperated, and even slightly embarrassed. He heaved out a sigh.
“Okay,” he said in a small voice, “I'll tell him.” He scratched his nose, cleared his throat, and turned to Ambrogio.
“So, there was this kid - not really a kid, exactly, he was more like fifteen -”
“Get on with it,” said Amber, “get it over with.”
“-So this kid’s name was Phoenix. He was just like us in the sense that he wanted revolution. But he was a bit special in the sense that… he was physically set apart from us.”
“So he was… disabled?”
“No, he - he… to put it simply, he was a freak of nature,” said Moony, rushing his sentence at the end.
“Well that's a rude thing to say!” Said Amber.
“I really don't know how else to say it, the kid literally looked like a demon. He didn't have the horns or red skin or anything - though he was said to have had his wings cut off.”
“Aren't wings angelic?” Asked Ambrogio.
“If they are, they were the only thing about that kid’s appearance that was angelic.”
“Okay, now you're giving Onyx a reason to banish you all over again.”
“Anyway, this Phoenix kid was of course welcomed into the faction. Despite his appearance, he seemed to have a good, gentle, personality. The thing is though, this kid was in a crap-load of danger. His identity was already certain, and within the first week of escaping Central City, the award for finding him was over one-hundred-thousand carbons. And like I said, this kid was a freak of nature, so a fate of studies and experimentations would have pursued if he was found. Which… he was.” Moony looked away from Ambrogio again.
“Look,” he continued, “the kid hadn't set foot outside in like, what? nine - ten months. I felt sorry for him. So, one day when we went on a raid, I just put it It out there that there was always room in the trunk.” Moony’s cheeks had now gone from rosy to an embarrassed red.
“Long story short, during the raid, Phoenix was captured and taken back to Central City. We don't know how that's working for him, but we do know that it's probably how we expected it to be. Of course, that was all my fault and I was reprimanded for it.”
“So… what did you do on the first two times for you to get banished?”
Moony looked up, his eyebrows furrowed. “Nothing.”
“So Onyx broke the rules on this one particular occasion..?” Ambrogio was now confused and placed a little less trust on Onyx now that he knew he could be that unpredictable. That wasn't just a simple banishing - it was a matter of life and death.
“Yeah… we all just assumed that it was out of the spite of losing the love of his life that made Onyx do that,” said Amber, sliding pieces of citrine on a chain to make a necklace.
“Wait, what?” Said Ambrogio, taken mildly off guard. When had love come into the equation?
“Whether it was platonic or romantic, no one really knows. All we know is that Onyx definitely possessed a soft spot for Phoenix. Onyx had quite a difficult life before this one - not one filled with much love and compassion. I'm pretty sure that was some of the only love he’s experienced in his lifetime, and with that taken away from him… well, we can all see how that’s taken a toll on him recently.”
Wow, this was… unexpected. But now Ambrogio understood what Onyx had been talking about when he first saw him back at the gas station: “you're also going to be very passionate about finding Phoenix.”
“We’re almost certain that's going to be the next big project,” Amber continued. “There's always a goal that we’re working towards. Onyx is probably going to cover it up, though. He would definitely be one to. I heard him talking to one of the organization guys. He said something about killing two birds with one stone. I think he wants to kill Korimako Shaw and Mike Ivanov while we have people in Central City. that's not a bad idea.”
Ambrogio raised his eyebrows and looked at Moony. “See, no one told her that directly. And you think I'm nosy?”
“Yeah, I do, that's because you are. But back to what Amber heard, that might be biting off more than we can chew,” said Moony.
“It's only two people.”
“Yeah, but they have a group of people bigger than our faction guarding them. Besides, that wouldn't just be murder, that would be assassination. We’d all have higher chance of being executed that way.”
Amber looked up from the necklace and at Moony. “No, not if they don't know our identity.”
“Well, if we bring a higher number of people into Central City, then there would be a higher chance of one being captured, and that person would either die a tortured death or give away their identity as well as our’s,” said Moony.
Amber frowned. “No one in the faction would do that right? Give away our information?”
Moony shrugged. “People are people. Besides, we don't want anyone to have to die for us.”
“True…”
There was a sound of rumbling outside the door as people from the rooms on their hallway all walked out at the same time. “Oh crap… dinner, I completely forgot… well, i guess we can come back afterwards to get you a name.”
“Until then, we can just call you Curious George,” said Moony with a smirk.
**********
They left the room, and as they walked down the hallway and down the stairs, Ambrogio heard someone say “i'm so hungry, i could eat a horse… or a cow… or any farm animal. And that says a lot because I'm vegan.”
“I'm so hungry I could eat a bush,” ambrogio heard someone else in front of him say.
As they reached the seventh floor, Ambrogio looked up and saw the hanging contraption in front of the door. It was a giant apple, reflecting the sign on the door weirdly: ‘The Office of Nutrition and Health.’
Among large amounts of people (whom Ambrogio could not see over, but between), he saw a place inside the main door that looked like a giant food pantry. Cans upon cans were stacked on shelves. Ambrogio then became excited. Blake had told him about the natural way of getting nutrients: eating food that came right out of the ground, and out of trees, and off of animals. It sounded weird to Ambrogio, but he was open to trying it.
Moony and Amber walked into the room and Ambrogio followed them. They went into an isle of cans and each pulled off one for themselves, then Moony turned and asked Ambrogio, “chicken or beef?”
“What?” Said Ambrogio, “uh, chicken I guess.” Those were things he saw on the back of the nutrient labels delivered to his home back in Central City. He didn't know what they actually were.
Moony tossed him a can. They then walked up to a man at a desk near the front of the room where Amber said, “one can for each of us,” then walked away. Ambrogio was surprised at how short of a time it took to get their food - it could take an hour or two for the nutrient distributor to get to your complex.
They walked back up the stairs and back into the room they were in prior to getting their food. Amber walked over to a can opener on top of a set of drawers. When her can was opened, a whiff of something Ambrogio never smelt before hit his nostrils. Because he had never smelt it before, he couldn't compare it to much anything, but it sure didn't smell good.
Moony opened his can, too, and the whiff got stronger. Ambrogio coughed. Moony reached for Ambrogio’s can and opened it for him. Ambrogio then saw what was inside: a grayish, brownish mush, that wasn't quite mixed all the way.
“That's...that's edible? I have to eat that?” Asked Ambrogio skeptically.
Moony shrugged. “You don't have to, but it's all the food we have.
“Is this - is this real food? Like… the food people used to eat the natural way?”
“Hell no!” Said Moony, with so much emphasis that it scared Ambrogio. “This is almost less like food than what you ate back in Central City.”
Ambrogio felt relieved that real food wasn't terrible, but also disappointed because he'd really gotten his hopes up for eating real food. He felt disgusted, obviously, as well.
Amber sat down and handed each of them a metal spoon after clearing a space on the table.
“So, Ambrogio, this is your spoon now. You keep up with it, you wash it off, you use it whenever you need to, okay?”
“Okay…” Spoon. That was a weird word. Ambrogio had never heard it before. Spoon. He giggled, It sounded funny. He lifted his spoon up and into the can, taking a bit of something solid, along with some of its grey-brown juices and putting it into his mouth.
He gagged. He covered his mouth. He couldn't swallow this crap. How could have been expected to? To compare it to anything, it tasted like dust, mucus, and how hand sanitizer smells. It was all combined into a texture that deeply disturbed him.
“There's a trashcan at the end of the hall,” said Amber.
“And try not to be so loud when puking,” said Moony, “other people are trying to eat without becoming sick themselves.”
Ambrogio ran out of the room and to the end of the hall, where there was, in fact, a trash can. Ambrogio didn't actually regurgitate anything. He just wanted to get that crap out of his mouth. He walked back into the room, where Amber sat, looking sympathetic. Moony looked amused. “Don't worry kid, you'll get used to it,” he said.
Ambrogio raised his eyebrows, challenging his statement. When he sat down, he pushed his can to the corner of the table and turned his head away from it.
Moony spoke again. “Yeah, you push that away now, you're gonna be hungry in the morning.”
“Let him be,” said Amber. “He can hate it if he wants to.”
“I guess you're right. I'm not obligated to keep him from starving.”
“He’s not going to starve,” said Amber skeptically.
“He might. What do they do back in central city, anyway, to make you guys so skinny? Do they have you run for two hours every morning?”
“No, nothing like that,” said Ambrogio. He looked down at himself. He wasn't skinny, was he? He didn't have too much excess body fat, but he wasn't skinny, skinny.
“Well, we really do have to get you a name,” said Amber. “Since you're not eating, you should try and choose something now.”
Ambrogio got up and looked at the chart with hundreds of gems again. He had concluded that he shouldn't think too hard about this. He picked a gem at random. “Spessartine,” he bellowed, looking down at a reddish - orange gem.
“How are you going to make that a name?” Asked Moony, eyeing the chart.
“I don't know. I'll take out the ‘tine’ I guess.”
“Spessar?” asked Amber.
“That's weird,” said Moony.
“I like it,” Amber looked at the chart.
“Spessar…” Ambrogio repeated under his breath. It sounded alright for him. He didn't didn't care much anyway.
“So that's it,” he said, “that's my name now.”
“Yep,” said Amber. She stood up and crouched at a drawer near the poster of the gems Ambrogio was looking at, and pulled out the bottom one to reveal tiny boxes of separated gems, each with little labels he could barely read.
Amber stood up with a few of the gems like the one on the poster in her hand and walked back to the table where a larger box of chains were. She took a chain and slid one of the gems on it. She handed it to Ambrogio.
He tried to hook the two ends for the chain together, but looked up when Moony snorted.
“Do you know how stupid you look right now?”
Yes, he did. He was staring at the ends of the necklace, but they were small and the chain was too short to go out past his chin.
“I'll help you,” said Amber. She succeeded at hooking the chain within ten seconds. When she was done, they both sat down.
“So… what brought you here?” asked Amber.
“What do you mean,” replied Ambrogio.
“What inspired you to become a rebel?”
Ambrogio sat for a moment, trying to put into words what would answer that question.
He told Amber, and Moony, because he was in the room too, about Blake. How he had a plan to leave Central City, but how Ambrogio didn't attempt to leave with him, and how Blake was arrested. Ambrogio said that he wanted to fulfill the ambition his friend never got to, so he attempted to escape and succeeded.
“Wow, your story’s pretty deep,” said Amber, “I just got bored and left.”
“What about you, Moony?” asked Ambrogio.
“I was born a rebel. I was raised in a house somewhere north of here. My parents were best friends with the founder of the faction. They live on the base here with me.”
“Cool.” Ambrogio yawned.
“Hey, it's late. We should show you your room,” said Moony.
“There's already a room established for me?”
“Yes, because you're that special,” Moony said sarcastically. “No, we know the rooms already able to hold one more person.”
Moony showed him a room on the floor above. There were two bunk beds, each on one side of the room. One bed had a blanket as a curtain hanging down from the bed above.
“How ya doing, Beryl?” Asked Moony, directing his question to the guy on the other side of the blanket.
“Go eat a giraffe, Moony,” said the person on the other side in a rather harsh tone.
“Not pleased with my arrival, I see?”
The person didn't answer.
“Well, that's Beryl,” said Moony, gesturing to the curtain. “He's alright though. He's like a houseplant: not usually sentient, nor does he require much care. You just have to water him every now and then. Oh, and the top bunk is your bed,” he finished.
“I'm tired,” said Ambrogio.
“I don't blame you,” Moony replied. “You can go to sleep now, If you want. You'll have to sleep in those clothes, though.” He gestured to the dusty, dirty school uniform that used to be white. Ambrogio noticed that he was still wearing Moony’s jacket. “You probably want this back,” he said, starting to take it off.
“Nah, that's alright,” said Moony, waving him off, “you can have it for now.”
“Nice,” said Ambrogio, climbing onto the top bunk. The mattress was incredibly soft, almost like quicksand, pulling him in and not letting go. He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes.
“Goodnight, spessar,” said Moony, mocking his new name. Ambrogio didn't retort back, for he was already sleeping.
By Rachel Crabtree
Ambrogio watched as Moony put on his jacket. He clenched his teeth and crossed his arms, unhappy that he’d forgotten how cold deserts get at night – but as always, he didn’t let that interfere with the hopeful mood he had worked to keep up consistently. He just wished he had his own jacket.
He scooted closer to the fire.
Trying to get his numb fingertips off his mind, he asked Moony, “So what’s next-- what do we do tomorrow?”
As Moony plopped down on the blanket he’d finished smoothing out upon the hard, desert ground, he replied “I’m getting you back to our base as soon as possible. Then, if you’re permitted to stay, we’ll get you a gun.”
“How long will it take to get back to your base?”
“I’m not exactly certain. I’m not really a math genius either; I’ve never calculated or counted the distance.”
“Where do you get guns out here?” asked Ambrogio, waving his arms out and gesturing to the empty desert.
“You either take one from someone else, or you hack a gun dispense machine – both of which are dangerous. Though I do recommend the second option. It’s a lot easier when you have me around. You’re less likely to get killed in hand to hand combat, too.”
Ambrogio cocked his head. “Killed?”
Moony nodded, strands of his light blue hair falling on his rosy skin – now fiercely illuminated by firelight.“You don’t take your guns from your allies, do you? You have to fight for them – though that’s a bit difficult if you…ya know…don’t have a weapon…
“Besides, I’m one of those people who hold power and defense in their brain; I’ve never been…exactly…the strong type,” finished Moony, taking a glance at his own frail (and slightly flabby) arm. He looked at Ambrogio.
“That’s one thing we’ll have to establish when we get to the base; your role. Have any idea what it’s going to be yet?”
Ambrogio thought for a moment. His best friend, Blake, was always the one who was good at everything. Despite being a rebel, he was one of the smartest of all minors in the sector. Not only good with academics, but the arts too. Ambrogio was average as far as school expectations went, but wasn’t good at much anything else. That made Ambrogio think – it wasn’t him who was supposed to be out here, being recruited by a rebel faction and joining in attempts to aid a revolution. It was supposed to be Blake. So he shook his head.
“That’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”
Moony’s words seemed to float away and fade. Ambrogio kept staring at a distant dead bush, scorched by the sun, and thought more – which, honestly wasn’t a good idea. He did it anyway.
His mind relapsed over all the events that had happened in his living memory – though this was difficult, for the government-issued drugs obscured reality, and were meant to.
He could remember the first time he met Blake – his ivory colored skin seeming to radiate when introducing himself. He remembered how he seemed to hypnotize all who listened to him – especially teachers, though that was more for fun. He remembered how often he would need to calm Ambrogio down daily – but never seemed to really mind. He was the best thing he could have ever asked for – teaching Ambrogio new things, like to oppose conformity, to embrace his difference, despite how positively forbidden it was.
That was the only thing that he ever missed these days. He still couldn’t believe Blake was gone. He always seemed to find a way out of things, Ambrogio had already concluded that Blake wasn’t dead. That was impossible.
“Hey, are you going to sleep sitting up, staring at that cactus, or do you want to sleep on an actual cot?”
“It’s a bush,” said Ambrogio, whipping his head away from the dead bush and getting up to join Moony on the cot.
“What’s the difference?” mumbled Moony shifting over to the other side of the cot, leaving about a foot of space between them. He seemed relaxed as ever, with his hands behind his head, laid out on his back. Ambrogio, however, was the complete opposite. His state of curiosity and anxiousness hadn’t died down much from when he first met Moony exactly 25 hours ago (he’d been counting). There wasn’t a comfortable way he could lay; all parts of him that had been exposed to the blazing desert sun were, of course, burnt. Simply laying his arms on the cot was painful, and despite the comfort the cool air was expected to bring to his peeling skin, it stung.
But he couldn’t complain; he was alive.
“Hey, Moony?”
“What?”
“How did you get your name? that is just a nickname, right?”
Moony turned to face away from him. “It’s too late for this crap,” he mumbled.
“I can’t sleep, dude.”
“Don’t call me dude.”
“If I call you Moony, I’ll need to know the reason why you’re called that.”
“You don’t need to know anything.”
“Yes I do.”
Moony stayed quiet for a minute and Ambrogio thought he might have fallen asleep, not giving anymore thought to his question. He was wrong, for Moony’s voice carried out through the cold desert air a few moments later.
“You know what, it’s not too personal. I’ll tell you.” He turned over and faced Ambrogio.
“In our crew, we’re all named after gemstones,” he said, holding up a necklace that had been hidden under his shirt, with a round gem at the bottom. “I’m named after moonstone. Obviously, you wouldn’t call a person that, so I’m called Moony.
“Every rebellious faction has a theme for names. Some name their guns and take the name themselves, some people name themselves after bugs, numbers, or just random things in general. Some use Latin roots and come up with their own names. It all depends on how you interpret a revolution, I guess, your purpose now, whatever you want. That’s the beauty of it all. Complete freedom.” Moony turned, laid on his back again, and closed his eyes.
Staring at his facial profile against the background of thousands of stars, Ambrogio asked, “What if freedom scares you?”
“Then that’s okay,” he said with a sense of gentle finality, “we’ll guide you until you get used to it.”
Ambrogio calmed down a bit more with Moony’s words, feeling as if maybe sleep was possible that night. A smile made its way onto his face when Moony spouted his last words until morning, “ – if you’re permitted to stay with us.”
*****
Ambrogio looked down at his own shadow as he walked behind Moony, the sun beating down on his ocher-brown skin. He was now subconsciously scrunching up his neck for the purpose of rescuing it from getting more burnt than it already was. Other than that, his burnt limbs were doing better. This was because Moony realized that Ambrogio wasn’t just complaining when he said that his arms hurt like hell. He had gotten second degree burns, and after Moony observed this, he gave him his jacket. It fit pretty well. It didn’t smell too bad either.
They’d been walking for a while, and Ambrogio’s shadow was disappearing as the middle of the day and the sun’s direct rays approached. The thought came to him, as it had multiple times before – why didn’t Moony have a way of transportation other than on foot? Now was the perfect time to ask, so he did.
“Hey, Moony?”
“What?”
“Don’t you have a car or something?”
“I don’t, our crew does. Two cars.”
“Then why aren’t you in one?”
Moony sighed a frustrated sigh. “Your curiosity is going to be the death of you, you know that?”
“Yes, I do. Did you know that you’re doing what you’re fighting against? Freedom comes with the ability to question things made by people on a higher caliber than you are.”
“Everyone has their own definition of freedom, but out here, it’s understood that, if you aren’t recruited and trusted within a faction, then you aren’t trusted with our information.”
Ambrogio ran and caught up with Moony so he could look at him directly.
“I’m just curious –”
“No crap.”
It was difficult to keep up with Moony; he had much longer legs than Ambrogio, what with him being about a foot taller than him.
“I don’t understand why you’re so intent on keeping information from me,” said Ambrogio, simultaneously looking from Moony to the ground, “you can trust me!”
Moony was so affronted by what Ambrogio had just said that he stopped walking.
Ambrogio tripped and almost fell, but Moony caught him by the arm. Then, staring directly into his eyes, he said, “Really? Really? Do you think we can just go around trusting random people? I can’t believe how naive you are! You could be working for the pigs, for all we know! Or even worse, the corporation authorities!”
“What are you talking about? Pigs? Surely pigs as a whole species don't have a personal vendetta against you.”
Moony let go of Ambrogio’s arm and stepped back.
“No, pigs aren't mad at us.” He started walking again. “I guess I can’t blame you for what you were never taught. Pigs are a word for policemen. Hey, there’s the road-”
“What road?”
“The one we need to follow.”
Ambrogio just stopped talking and followed Moony. They eventually did come across a road, but Ambrogio wasn’t sure how Moony had managed to see it earlier. They followed it, and while doing so, Ambrogio thought of another question.
“Hey, Moony?”
Moony sighed.
“Why do rebels use nicknames?”
“Can’t we just hold off on the questions until you’re recruited – if you’re recruited?”
“But then we’ll forget them. These are important, significant questions.”
“If they’re so important then you won’t be likely to forget them.”
“But I’m forgetful!”
“Then get checked for dementia.”
Ambrogio cocked his head again. “Get checked for what?”
Moony ran his hands through his hair. “They really don’t teach you anything. It’s ridiculous.”
Ambrogio stayed quiet for a little while, until he smiled and said, “So back to the question… why don’t rebels just use their birth names?”
“Using your birth name is a hint that you have a place in the SE Corporation society. That you have a reserved place in – that you belong in – the society that we’re fighting against. It’s also dangerous.”
“How so?”
“Your birth name is attached to your full identity – all your records. If you use your birth name, and an SE worker hears about it, you’re done. That's one of the biggest things getting in the way of Superior Existence’s victory. They can arrest us, but they can’t execute us if our identity isn’t certain.”
Ambrogio looked down, thinking. That made a lot of sense.
“So do you name yourself, or do you have other people name you?”
Moony shrugged. “Either one.”
“What do you think my name should be?”
He looked at Ambrogio and smiled. Wow, this was the first time he didn’t seem to be a pain in Moony’s neck.
“I think you should be called Curious George.”
Ambrogio smirked. “No really, am I going to be named after a gemstone like you? Or something else?”
“I already told you, you’re Curious George!”
A building started coming into view, and Ambrogio for once didn’t take the opportunity to ask about it, he instead said, “No.”
“Alright, if you’re recruited, then you will be named after a gemstone.”
“What gemstone?” Ambrogio stepped over a particularly large bush.
“I don’t know. I’m not the gemstone expert, Amber is. Dear god… wait until you meet her. She is obsessed with gems. Metals, too. She has the periodic table memorized!”
“What’s the periodic table?”
Moony sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. “I’m not even surprised anymore,” he said.
*****
Moony and Ambrogio walked up to the building. Ambrogio saw now the front of the building, and concluded that it was a gas station, for it had several gas pumps.
“Is – is this your base?” asked Ambrogio. Moony didn’t answer. He walked up to the front door. It was made of glass, but you couldn’t see through it, for it was covered with a dark curtain on the inside.
Moony knocked on the door, then said, “It's Moony.” There was silence for a few seconds.
“Moony…” said the person behind the door in an amazed tone, “We thought you were dust!”
“Well… I'm here aren't I?”
There was a sound of shuffling behind the door and the curtains shifted as well. The door soon opened, but ever so slightly. Between the doorframe and the door itself, ambrogio saw a small mirror with the dark reflection of the person inside. The person then whipped the mirror away, Closed the door, and sounds of chains flailing and locks being unlocked erupted from behind it. Soon enough it opened again, and this time all the way. There Ambrogio saw a rough-looking man in a wheelchair, staring up at him and Moony in nothing other than amazement.
“Come in.” He rolled back away from the door and Moony walked inside. Ambrogio followed him.
There they entered a dark room, only lit by one lightbulb. The space was only about four square feet in length as well as width, and this made Ambrogio feel a bit claustrophobic. He followed Moony out of the next doorway - which instead of having a door, had another dark curtain.
Out of the last doorway, there was a seemingly normal sitting room. It contained an ugly orange couch, discreetly covered with a navy blanket, and many, many, chairs. Some were cushioned, some plastic. Still, Moony kept walking and the man kept rolling. They went into what Ambrogio thought was likely the last room they would enter, and sat down - well, just Moony, the man in the wheelchair was obviously already sitting. Ambrogio joined the both of hem and sat down on a decaying, yet surprisingly comfortable chair. It felt incredible to sit on something like that after two days of walking through the desert.
Ambrogio looked up from his chair and got with the program soon after; the mood in the room was something he couldn't quite place, but called for quite a bit of awkwardness.
“How’ve you been, doctor? How much catching up do I have to do?””
“A lot,” the man replied, “but first, tell me who he is.” He gestured to Ambrogio with one hand.
“A rebel. I found him in the desert.”
“When?”
“A couple days ago.”
The man stared at Moony so hard, Ambrogio thought that not even a falling bomb could get him out of his head. He eventually said, “well then… I guess we should inform the crew, huh?”
“Yeah, we should,” replied Moony in one of the smallest tones he'd heard. It almost sounded as if we was ashamed of something.
The man wheeled around, pulling back Yet another curtain to the entrance to another room. When he flicked the lights on, Ambrogio saw through the transparent glass window that it was a room for broadcasts and recording.
Moony didn't move as he stared at one scratch in particular on the wall ahead of him. Ambrogio listened and watched as the man flicked on switches and adjusted things in his studio. Soon enough, he started talking. Ambrogio couldn't hear him, for he had closed the door.
He then proceeded to turn everything off - turn things back up and back down. The man rolled out of the room and stopped before Ambrogio and Moony. Went back to staring at Moony.
“How did you make it?” The man asked.
“I'm not quite sure myself.”
The man turned and finally looked at Ambrogio. Despite looking at him, he still talked to Moony. “Does he have a name yet?”
Moony smiled. “Curious George, but I don't think that's final.”
The man in the wheelchair smiled too. “I guess I can assume why you're named after that?”
“... Yeah, I guess so.”
“Well… all there is to do now is wait. Have a comic,” he said, wheeling around to a stack of comics, taking two, and handing them to them.
Ambrogio opened his and started reading. His was called “Mausoleum Doors.” He'd never read anything like this before. It was obviously fictional - Blake had introduced him to fiction in the first place, so he could recognise it - but it was still very new to him. He'd heard Blake talk about comics before - about how they combined art and words to create one incredibly expressive story, but he could never get his hands on one. He didn't have a place to hide them. Blake had talked about how all of them were from a time long before either of them were ever born. A time when ideas clashed among individuals and when people fought fights and felt emotions like sadness and anger. He said that even though everyone thought that time was dark and terrible, the people of that time had made things so extraordinary that it was ridiculous to think that humanity was at its lowest point. He said that art and fiction were among those extraordinary things.
As of three pages in, it was established that the main character had moved to a new town, but was having second thoughts about buying a house there because things had been so undeniably creepy.
There were a lot of things in the story that Ambrogio didn't understand, for, as Blake had said, it was made in an era before him. That was one of them, buying a house. People didn't buy houses. Houses weren't even called houses anymore. You and your family unit were assigned to your living compartment. They were all the same anyway. Why would you want to buy a house, anyway? That was such a waste of carbons. You could save up your carbons for something else. Like more pills.
Ambrogio kept reading.
The character eventually met the mayor – who seemed to be the strangest of all people in his town. A few pages later, the character was taking a shower, but water didn’t come out. He called a plumber. Two men came. At this point, Ambrogio was just skimming the words. The plumber went into the guy’s basement and found a dead body! This was getting interesting –
There was a knock on the door. Ambrogio and Moony looked up at the same time. The man in the wheelchair rolled over to the door and performed the same ritual as he did with Moony. When the person was let in, Ambrogio heard a male voice say, “where is he?”
***********
The man in the wheelchair spoke back to the person at the door in a low voice, so that Ambrogio could just barely hear the rumble of it. He heard them walk out of the entrance way and eventually came to appear in the doorway.
He was tall, but didn’t look much older than Ambrogio. His dark eyes immediately found Moony.
“You,” he breathed, “how - why are you even hear? How dare you come here after what you did?”
“I have a person. All rebels are required to bring those who are lost back -”
“You're not part of us anymore! You're alone now! Leave!”
Moony didn't say anything. He didn't move. He was staring at that scratch on the wall again. The man in the doorway took a deep, shaky breath.
“I'm trying my best right now not to beat the crap out of you,” he said.
“Thank you,” said Moony.
The man stood, his eyes watering, as he ran his hands through his jet black hair. He looked away from Moony, and instead let his eyes rest upon a messy bookshelf across the room. He was thinking hard, debating something.
Ambrogio took the time to study him. Black hair, black eyes, black attire- even black tattoos on his neck. Now he could confidently conclude that this was Onyx.
“You know what Moony? This can be a redemption. I'll allow you to come back… but if you slip up one more time, you're done. No matter how many lost people you find in the desert and bring back, we will leave you to die out there.
“You're also going to need to be very passionate about finding Phoenix. For me to ever forgive you, you'll need need to bring him back- alive if possible. And it is possible.”
“Yes sir,” said Moony.
Onyx’s eyes fell upon Ambrogio. “I guess it's time for our warm welcome. Where are the interrogation questions, doctor?”
“They're in the filing cabinet.”
“Which drawer?”
“The top one. It's in the front most folder.”
“Thank you,” said Onyx, leaving the room. “Moony, get the laptop.”
“Yes sir,” Moony replied, turning around and grabbing the piece of technology behind him.
“Get the detector, too” Onyx called out. Moony turned around again, rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a round hunk of metal that wasn't much bigger than a hand. He took the wire that was attached to its side and plugged the other end to the laptop.
Onyx returned a minute or so later with a green folder that had - ever so unsurprisingly - ‘Interrogation Questions: The Newcomer’ written on the front.
“Alright kid, if you can answer all of these, we’ll look at the results and determine whether or not you can stay with us. Do you have the recorder, Doc?”
“Yes, it's in the studio.” He turned, rolled into the studio, and rolled out, holding a grey, ancient looking recorder in one hand.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Do you want to switch rooms?”
“No, this is good. Moony, are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Kid, are you comfortable, can we get you a drink or something?” he asked Ambrogio.
“Yeah, i'm comfortable, i'm fine.”
“Okay, let's start.”
The man in the wheelchair clicked a button on the recorder.
Onyx cleared his throat and read from a paper inside the folder. “All who are presently in this room with the exception of yourself are trusted with rebel faction information. This means that your personal information is in safe hands. If you have any questions please feels free to ask.
“Refusal to answer questions is not taken lightly. Please tell us upfront if you have problems remembering your past. This is not an uncommon case.
“A small machine will be attached to your hand presently.”
Moony moved to put the round piece of metal on ambrogio's hand. When he did, beeps started emitting from the laptop. It sounded very much like a heart monitor.
“This machine will not cause you any discomfort or pain.
“Understand that this is a process we must undergo, and if failure to complete this process occurs, you will not be permitted to stay with us.
“As of this moment, Part One of “Interrogation Questions: the Newcomer will begin with subject 934.
“Part One: background, family, and medication.
“Your full name?”
“Ambrogio Campagna Bellucini.”
“Your birth date and your age?”
“I'm fifteen, my birthdate is June 5th, 2053.”
“What sector of central city did you last live in?”
“The second.”
“Your sequence in education?”
“Um… mid second category education. I graduated all classes on time and followed the standard sequence.”
“Describe the basics of the family you lived with back in central city.”
“My mother was thirty, my father was thirty-one, my mother worked as a pharmacist, and my father was a nutrient distributor.”
“Do you have current close relations with Superior Existence Corporation followers?”
“Not really.”
“have you been in a rebellious faction before?”
“No.”
“Did you take the default prescription of Superior Existence Corporation-issued drugs?”
“No.”
“What did you take instead?”
“Well, I used to take extra Emotional Tranquility drugs as well as the Acceptance drug, but other than that, my dosage was normal. Then my friend said I shouldn't take the medication - he said that it blinded us of what our life really is and steals our potential to change it.”
“You had a smart friend. Can I ask why he isn't with you?”
“He was arrested.” Ambrogio looked down in discrete shame.
“That's unfortunate. Have you taken any medication in the past twenty-four hours?”
“No.”
“Do you have any medication with you?”
“No.”
“Part One of ‘Interrogation Questions: The Newcomer’ on subject 934 is complete. Thank you for your cooperation.”
The man in the wheelchair clicked the recorder off. Moony reached over to take the hunk of metal off his hand, then pressed something on his laptop to make the beeping stop.
“Look over the recording,” said Onyx.
“Completely steady the entire interrogation.”
“Alrighty then,” Onyx looked at Ambrogio, “all your questions were acceptable. You can join us.
“Still, even though the main part of recruiting is done, you'll have to go through a few more things - nothing difficult. You just need to carry out a task to prove that you're really up for joining us.
“So, first, we need to figure out what your role should be. We can't grade you on a task that doesn't suit you. That will start tomorrow. As of right now, let's get in the car and go to the base. Maybe Moony can explain a few things to you there.”
Moony stood up, so Ambrogio did the same. He followed Moony and Onyx out of the room, joined them in saying their goodbyes to the man in the wheelchair, and left. Outside, Ambrogio saw a yellow trans-am, spray painted with several designs and symbols. The owners of the car definitely would have been arrested back in Central City.
Moony and Onyx got into the front seats, so Ambrogio sat in the back. The ride didn't take but about ten minutes, and the timeframe was filled with music blasting from the radio.
“There are rebel radio stations?” Ambrogio had asked.
“Of course,” Moony replied, “the Doctor - the guy we just saw - this is his radio station.”
When they'd arrived at the base, Ambrogio was at first incredibly unimpressed. Just like at the gas station, he skeptically asked “Is this your base?”
The answer turned out to be yes. As they walked up to a structure that looked nothing more than an old, wooden house, Onyx knocked on the door and said “It's Onyx. I've got the new recruit and Moony.”
The door was painted yellow, it's paint chipped off all over it. When it opened, Ambrogio saw more paint chips fall to the ground.
Behind the door were two people - a girl with an amazed expression, and a guy with a confused look on his face.
“Moony?” The girl asked.
“Clearly,” said Onyx, going inside and brushing past them. Moony was now looking extremely uncomfortable as he followed Onyx.
Ambrogio saw the interior of the house and suddenly felt that the phrase “Don't judge a book by it’s cover” could not have been truer. The space inside was very modern, though that was somewhat difficult to see because There were many, many filing cabinets - some stacked upon each other to reach the ceiling. There were ladders in front of every wall. The few other people that were in the room turned and stared at Moony.
“What's he doing here?” Asked one person.
“I'm afraid that’s none of your business,” replied Onyx defiantly, not even looking at the person. “I’ll explain everything tonight. Rhod, schedule an all member meeting.”
“Yes sir,” said Rhod, a man with fire truck red hair.
Ambrogio’s biggest shock of all was the enormous staircase in the center of the room, going down an undeterminable amount of floors. The room they were in now had many windows, and the sunlight pouring through them reflected through the staircase. Though it did have a rug, the stairs seemed to have a mirror coating on them, so from what Ambrogio could see, it carried the sunlight down all the floors.
As Onyx started walking down the stairs, he asked a person above them, “Where's Amber?”
“Sixth Floor, in the Office of the Arts. At least, that's where Bismuth last saw her, but that wasn't too long ago.”
“Thank you.”
They walked down one flight of stairs, and when they came upon the bottom, Ambrogio was caught off guard by the hanging contraption over the door in front of him. It was a house, and just like the stairs, it was made of mirror. A sign above the door in front of it said “the Office of Architecture.” They passed it and kept walking.
The next two floors were floors of apartments. Still, in front of the main doors, they had mirroring and hanging contraptions as well. One was a star, the other was a cube.
On the fourth floor, a sign above the main door said ‘the Office of Projects and Organization.’ The hanging piece on this floor was something with three slats of mirror, each a different length and shape, with a different symbol on each piece.
The next floor was again, just a floor of apartments, and in front of the door, there hung a hollow cylinder with another cylinder inside it.
Then, finally on the sixth floor, there hung the most beautiful contraption yet. Something like a chandelier, made with what looked like broken shards of mirror, hung in front of a door with the caption ‘the Office of the Arts.’ Onyx opened the door to reveal a hallway, and at the end of it, there was another door With the caption ‘main office.’
This door had carved designs covering it, as well as colored tissue paper hanging from the top.
Onyx opened this door as well. It revealed a room full of obscure light, tampered with by more mirror contraptions. There were people moving around everywhere. Ambrogio saw glimpses of many things: painted canvases, jewelry, clothing, typewriters, spray paint, glitter. It was a beautiful and colorful room, and Ambrogio needed to take a moment to enjoy it. It was refreshing to his eyes after seeing years of nothing but monochromatic white and desert dust. Now he understood why Blake yearned so fiercely to change the world - who wouldn't want this?
Onyx walked up to a girl with amber hair and ocher eyes who looked up from the crystals she’d been shaping.
“Sir?” she said, looking up questionably at Moony.
“As you can see, we have a new recruit.”
“Oh… Hello there!”
“Hello,” replied Ambrogio with a smile and an awkward wave.
She stood up, and Ambrogio felt unsurprised with the fact that she was taller than him. Onyx started walking and crossed the room, back to the door. They left the room and in the hallway, Onyx turned to Moony and Amber and said, “I’ll leave the explaining to you guys, i have a meeting to plan.”
“Okay, see you later,” said Amber.
“Yep,” Onyx replied in an exasperated tone, going back up the stairs.
Amber turned to Ambrogio.
“Well, are you ready?”
“Sure,” replied Ambrogio.
**********
Amber walked down the hall to the door closest to the main door. She opened it, and Ambrogio saw what Moony had been talking about with her obsession with gemstones. There were posters all over the wall of gemstones and crystals. On one wall, there was a shelf of crystals as decoration. On another, there were numerous drawers that Ambrogio guessed held more gems.
“So, you have to have a name. Everyone in our crew is named after gemstones. Look at the chart over there,” Amber pointed at one of the largest posters across the room, “and see if there’s a gem that interests you.”
Ambrogio did as he was told and looked at the poster. It displayed hundreds of gems, though many were crossed off.
“Our crew has around three hundred members, so there are only a few options left.”
If Amber meant a few to be about sixty, she was right. Ambrogio was overwhelmed.
“So we’re all named after gems - not the gems exactly. You can shape the gem name however you want. To be more masculine or feminine or whatever.”
Ambrogio still stood there, completely unsure where to start with that process. Moony seemed to sense his need for help, for he said, “How about we go over the rules first, Amber.”
“Oh, yeah, sure! Sorry, some people need a lot of time, some people choose right away - everyone’s different. Yeah, yeah… let's start with the rules.” She walked over to one set of drawers, and at the top one, she pulled out a binder with splattered paint on the cover. At the bottom of the cover, the title ‘Rules and Expectations’ was shown written in purple. It reminded Ambrogio very much of school.
“We really tried not to make this too long, so i’ll just browse over it for you if you have any questions, please feel free to ask.” Ambrogio nodded his head.
Amber read through something like a student handbook, and - just like in school - Ambrogio didn't pay much attention. At the end, Amber did mention that if you broke the rules three times, you were kicked out of the faction and banished from the base as well as thrown out into the desert completely alone where you would likely die. That made Ambrogio put two and two together.
“Hey Moony?” He asked as Amber stopped reading.
“What?”
“Where you banished from the base?”
Moony looked affronted. Though he seemed to sit there for a while, his lips agape, thinking, he eventually looked away from him and nodded slowly.
“Why?”
Moony shook his head. Amber interjected in his decision though, by saying “things would make a bit more sense for him later if you if you did explain. I think that was what Onyx was talking about anyway.”
Moony ran his fingers through his hair, looking absolutely exasperated, and even slightly embarrassed. He heaved out a sigh.
“Okay,” he said in a small voice, “I'll tell him.” He scratched his nose, cleared his throat, and turned to Ambrogio.
“So, there was this kid - not really a kid, exactly, he was more like fifteen -”
“Get on with it,” said Amber, “get it over with.”
“-So this kid’s name was Phoenix. He was just like us in the sense that he wanted revolution. But he was a bit special in the sense that… he was physically set apart from us.”
“So he was… disabled?”
“No, he - he… to put it simply, he was a freak of nature,” said Moony, rushing his sentence at the end.
“Well that's a rude thing to say!” Said Amber.
“I really don't know how else to say it, the kid literally looked like a demon. He didn't have the horns or red skin or anything - though he was said to have had his wings cut off.”
“Aren't wings angelic?” Asked Ambrogio.
“If they are, they were the only thing about that kid’s appearance that was angelic.”
“Okay, now you're giving Onyx a reason to banish you all over again.”
“Anyway, this Phoenix kid was of course welcomed into the faction. Despite his appearance, he seemed to have a good, gentle, personality. The thing is though, this kid was in a crap-load of danger. His identity was already certain, and within the first week of escaping Central City, the award for finding him was over one-hundred-thousand carbons. And like I said, this kid was a freak of nature, so a fate of studies and experimentations would have pursued if he was found. Which… he was.” Moony looked away from Ambrogio again.
“Look,” he continued, “the kid hadn't set foot outside in like, what? nine - ten months. I felt sorry for him. So, one day when we went on a raid, I just put it It out there that there was always room in the trunk.” Moony’s cheeks had now gone from rosy to an embarrassed red.
“Long story short, during the raid, Phoenix was captured and taken back to Central City. We don't know how that's working for him, but we do know that it's probably how we expected it to be. Of course, that was all my fault and I was reprimanded for it.”
“So… what did you do on the first two times for you to get banished?”
Moony looked up, his eyebrows furrowed. “Nothing.”
“So Onyx broke the rules on this one particular occasion..?” Ambrogio was now confused and placed a little less trust on Onyx now that he knew he could be that unpredictable. That wasn't just a simple banishing - it was a matter of life and death.
“Yeah… we all just assumed that it was out of the spite of losing the love of his life that made Onyx do that,” said Amber, sliding pieces of citrine on a chain to make a necklace.
“Wait, what?” Said Ambrogio, taken mildly off guard. When had love come into the equation?
“Whether it was platonic or romantic, no one really knows. All we know is that Onyx definitely possessed a soft spot for Phoenix. Onyx had quite a difficult life before this one - not one filled with much love and compassion. I'm pretty sure that was some of the only love he’s experienced in his lifetime, and with that taken away from him… well, we can all see how that’s taken a toll on him recently.”
Wow, this was… unexpected. But now Ambrogio understood what Onyx had been talking about when he first saw him back at the gas station: “you're also going to be very passionate about finding Phoenix.”
“We’re almost certain that's going to be the next big project,” Amber continued. “There's always a goal that we’re working towards. Onyx is probably going to cover it up, though. He would definitely be one to. I heard him talking to one of the organization guys. He said something about killing two birds with one stone. I think he wants to kill Korimako Shaw and Mike Ivanov while we have people in Central City. that's not a bad idea.”
Ambrogio raised his eyebrows and looked at Moony. “See, no one told her that directly. And you think I'm nosy?”
“Yeah, I do, that's because you are. But back to what Amber heard, that might be biting off more than we can chew,” said Moony.
“It's only two people.”
“Yeah, but they have a group of people bigger than our faction guarding them. Besides, that wouldn't just be murder, that would be assassination. We’d all have higher chance of being executed that way.”
Amber looked up from the necklace and at Moony. “No, not if they don't know our identity.”
“Well, if we bring a higher number of people into Central City, then there would be a higher chance of one being captured, and that person would either die a tortured death or give away their identity as well as our’s,” said Moony.
Amber frowned. “No one in the faction would do that right? Give away our information?”
Moony shrugged. “People are people. Besides, we don't want anyone to have to die for us.”
“True…”
There was a sound of rumbling outside the door as people from the rooms on their hallway all walked out at the same time. “Oh crap… dinner, I completely forgot… well, i guess we can come back afterwards to get you a name.”
“Until then, we can just call you Curious George,” said Moony with a smirk.
**********
They left the room, and as they walked down the hallway and down the stairs, Ambrogio heard someone say “i'm so hungry, i could eat a horse… or a cow… or any farm animal. And that says a lot because I'm vegan.”
“I'm so hungry I could eat a bush,” ambrogio heard someone else in front of him say.
As they reached the seventh floor, Ambrogio looked up and saw the hanging contraption in front of the door. It was a giant apple, reflecting the sign on the door weirdly: ‘The Office of Nutrition and Health.’
Among large amounts of people (whom Ambrogio could not see over, but between), he saw a place inside the main door that looked like a giant food pantry. Cans upon cans were stacked on shelves. Ambrogio then became excited. Blake had told him about the natural way of getting nutrients: eating food that came right out of the ground, and out of trees, and off of animals. It sounded weird to Ambrogio, but he was open to trying it.
Moony and Amber walked into the room and Ambrogio followed them. They went into an isle of cans and each pulled off one for themselves, then Moony turned and asked Ambrogio, “chicken or beef?”
“What?” Said Ambrogio, “uh, chicken I guess.” Those were things he saw on the back of the nutrient labels delivered to his home back in Central City. He didn't know what they actually were.
Moony tossed him a can. They then walked up to a man at a desk near the front of the room where Amber said, “one can for each of us,” then walked away. Ambrogio was surprised at how short of a time it took to get their food - it could take an hour or two for the nutrient distributor to get to your complex.
They walked back up the stairs and back into the room they were in prior to getting their food. Amber walked over to a can opener on top of a set of drawers. When her can was opened, a whiff of something Ambrogio never smelt before hit his nostrils. Because he had never smelt it before, he couldn't compare it to much anything, but it sure didn't smell good.
Moony opened his can, too, and the whiff got stronger. Ambrogio coughed. Moony reached for Ambrogio’s can and opened it for him. Ambrogio then saw what was inside: a grayish, brownish mush, that wasn't quite mixed all the way.
“That's...that's edible? I have to eat that?” Asked Ambrogio skeptically.
Moony shrugged. “You don't have to, but it's all the food we have.
“Is this - is this real food? Like… the food people used to eat the natural way?”
“Hell no!” Said Moony, with so much emphasis that it scared Ambrogio. “This is almost less like food than what you ate back in Central City.”
Ambrogio felt relieved that real food wasn't terrible, but also disappointed because he'd really gotten his hopes up for eating real food. He felt disgusted, obviously, as well.
Amber sat down and handed each of them a metal spoon after clearing a space on the table.
“So, Ambrogio, this is your spoon now. You keep up with it, you wash it off, you use it whenever you need to, okay?”
“Okay…” Spoon. That was a weird word. Ambrogio had never heard it before. Spoon. He giggled, It sounded funny. He lifted his spoon up and into the can, taking a bit of something solid, along with some of its grey-brown juices and putting it into his mouth.
He gagged. He covered his mouth. He couldn't swallow this crap. How could have been expected to? To compare it to anything, it tasted like dust, mucus, and how hand sanitizer smells. It was all combined into a texture that deeply disturbed him.
“There's a trashcan at the end of the hall,” said Amber.
“And try not to be so loud when puking,” said Moony, “other people are trying to eat without becoming sick themselves.”
Ambrogio ran out of the room and to the end of the hall, where there was, in fact, a trash can. Ambrogio didn't actually regurgitate anything. He just wanted to get that crap out of his mouth. He walked back into the room, where Amber sat, looking sympathetic. Moony looked amused. “Don't worry kid, you'll get used to it,” he said.
Ambrogio raised his eyebrows, challenging his statement. When he sat down, he pushed his can to the corner of the table and turned his head away from it.
Moony spoke again. “Yeah, you push that away now, you're gonna be hungry in the morning.”
“Let him be,” said Amber. “He can hate it if he wants to.”
“I guess you're right. I'm not obligated to keep him from starving.”
“He’s not going to starve,” said Amber skeptically.
“He might. What do they do back in central city, anyway, to make you guys so skinny? Do they have you run for two hours every morning?”
“No, nothing like that,” said Ambrogio. He looked down at himself. He wasn't skinny, was he? He didn't have too much excess body fat, but he wasn't skinny, skinny.
“Well, we really do have to get you a name,” said Amber. “Since you're not eating, you should try and choose something now.”
Ambrogio got up and looked at the chart with hundreds of gems again. He had concluded that he shouldn't think too hard about this. He picked a gem at random. “Spessartine,” he bellowed, looking down at a reddish - orange gem.
“How are you going to make that a name?” Asked Moony, eyeing the chart.
“I don't know. I'll take out the ‘tine’ I guess.”
“Spessar?” asked Amber.
“That's weird,” said Moony.
“I like it,” Amber looked at the chart.
“Spessar…” Ambrogio repeated under his breath. It sounded alright for him. He didn't didn't care much anyway.
“So that's it,” he said, “that's my name now.”
“Yep,” said Amber. She stood up and crouched at a drawer near the poster of the gems Ambrogio was looking at, and pulled out the bottom one to reveal tiny boxes of separated gems, each with little labels he could barely read.
Amber stood up with a few of the gems like the one on the poster in her hand and walked back to the table where a larger box of chains were. She took a chain and slid one of the gems on it. She handed it to Ambrogio.
He tried to hook the two ends for the chain together, but looked up when Moony snorted.
“Do you know how stupid you look right now?”
Yes, he did. He was staring at the ends of the necklace, but they were small and the chain was too short to go out past his chin.
“I'll help you,” said Amber. She succeeded at hooking the chain within ten seconds. When she was done, they both sat down.
“So… what brought you here?” asked Amber.
“What do you mean,” replied Ambrogio.
“What inspired you to become a rebel?”
Ambrogio sat for a moment, trying to put into words what would answer that question.
He told Amber, and Moony, because he was in the room too, about Blake. How he had a plan to leave Central City, but how Ambrogio didn't attempt to leave with him, and how Blake was arrested. Ambrogio said that he wanted to fulfill the ambition his friend never got to, so he attempted to escape and succeeded.
“Wow, your story’s pretty deep,” said Amber, “I just got bored and left.”
“What about you, Moony?” asked Ambrogio.
“I was born a rebel. I was raised in a house somewhere north of here. My parents were best friends with the founder of the faction. They live on the base here with me.”
“Cool.” Ambrogio yawned.
“Hey, it's late. We should show you your room,” said Moony.
“There's already a room established for me?”
“Yes, because you're that special,” Moony said sarcastically. “No, we know the rooms already able to hold one more person.”
Moony showed him a room on the floor above. There were two bunk beds, each on one side of the room. One bed had a blanket as a curtain hanging down from the bed above.
“How ya doing, Beryl?” Asked Moony, directing his question to the guy on the other side of the blanket.
“Go eat a giraffe, Moony,” said the person on the other side in a rather harsh tone.
“Not pleased with my arrival, I see?”
The person didn't answer.
“Well, that's Beryl,” said Moony, gesturing to the curtain. “He's alright though. He's like a houseplant: not usually sentient, nor does he require much care. You just have to water him every now and then. Oh, and the top bunk is your bed,” he finished.
“I'm tired,” said Ambrogio.
“I don't blame you,” Moony replied. “You can go to sleep now, If you want. You'll have to sleep in those clothes, though.” He gestured to the dusty, dirty school uniform that used to be white. Ambrogio noticed that he was still wearing Moony’s jacket. “You probably want this back,” he said, starting to take it off.
“Nah, that's alright,” said Moony, waving him off, “you can have it for now.”
“Nice,” said Ambrogio, climbing onto the top bunk. The mattress was incredibly soft, almost like quicksand, pulling him in and not letting go. He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes.
“Goodnight, spessar,” said Moony, mocking his new name. Ambrogio didn't retort back, for he was already sleeping.