Icarus

Part 6

In the tunnels, Roger woke up to somebody shaking him.
“Huh?” He mumbled.
“C’mon, Roger!”
“Yeah, you can’t sleep all day!”
It was Miri and her friend Jaz, the next-youngest kid in the group. Roger sat up.
“Okay, okay, I’m awake now.”
“Good.”
Roger barely had time to register the unfamiliar voice before he felt cold metal press against the back of his neck. He also felt a firm hand gripping his shoulder, and heard the click of a hand blaster being loaded. Miri screamed, yanked away from him by an invisible force. All around him, his gang was struggling with invisible attackers. Struggling . . . and losing.
“Who are you?” Roger snapped. “What do you want?”
“We want information. On a certain girl we believe you’ve been working with.”
“What are you talking about?!” 
The hand on his shoulder twisted to grip his collarbone. Roger froze. That kind of hold could break bones with very little pressure.
“Are you going to stop playing dumb, or do I need to start hurting people?”
The voice was female, musical, and razor-sharp with suppressed emotions. Whoever this lady was, she wasn’t bluffing. Trying not to show fear, Roger asked, “Does the girl you’re looking for have blue hair?”
“Yes. Her name is Jorella. We’ve been trying to talk to her for months now, but she keeps evading us.”
“Jorella Thaniels.” Roger whispered. “Lyr.”
“Yes, she changed her name. She keeps trying to attack us, we believe she’s been brainwashed. We may have to kill her.”
“No!” Roger yelled frantically. “You, you don’t understand! Don’t hurt her! She’s not brainwashed, she has amnesia. She doesn’t remember her old life, her old name, anything. Not since she woke up after we found her--”
“Found her where?!” The voice demanded.
“On the beach, near the industrial district, at the old docks. She was half-drowned, like she fell in the water from somewhere and got washed up there. We don’t know where she came from, I only found her name in the immigration records last night. Please, if you’re looking for her, will you let us help? I’m her friend, kind of, she might listen to me.”
“You really care about her, don’t you.” The woman said in a marginally gentler tone. “Fine. You can help us.”
It clearly wasn’t a question.
“Yes, I can. But I still won’t unless you let my gang go.”
“Go where, exactly? These are our tunnels. Your little gang can stay, and we’ll help them if you help us.”
Roger’s mind was swirling with questions and revelations, but all he said was, “I’ll help you.”
“Good.”
All around the tunnel, masked figures dressed in black with a white skull and crossbones insignia flickered into view, letting go of the gang kids and stepping back to let them run to each other. Their leader let go of Roger, but stayed uncomfortably close as she moved around to his front. At the sight of their insignia, his eyes widened.
“That’s . . . that’s the old Resistance symbol, isn’t it? The science-mage freedom fighters. Are you guys . . . ?”
“Yes. You could say we’re the New Resistance.”
“You’re trying to take down the Elites, and you need Lyr to help you do it.”
He didn’t bother phrasing it as a question.
Another New Resistance member chuckled.
“This one’s got a helluva brain on him, Marshal. I think we should recruit these guys.”
The woman, Marshal, made an annoyed snorting noise.
“Save it, Lieutenant. Yes, kid. Your friend is the best science-mage in a thousand years, although her powers have probably gone dormant if she has amnesia like you said.”
After a lot more negotiation between Finn, Roger, the other important gang kids, and the Marshal, half the New Resistance members went ahead to clear the way back to their base, and the rest helped the gang kids carry their stuff. The two groups mingled in wary silence, except for the occasional bit of conversation between the younger gang kids about whether there might be candy at the Resistance base.

This quickly devolved into a fight about whether butterscotch was better than chocolate, which Roger had to break up. He normally didn’t pray, but right now he was making the Circle of the Fates on the backs of his hands every few seconds and mentally reciting every prayer chant he knew.
Whether the prayers were for himself, his gang, or Lyr, he wasn’t sure, but right now he’d take whatever he could get. He had the feeling that for better or worse, nothing was going to be the same after this.