After the Dust Has Settled
written by Ella Lehane
Vivian hadn't had a visitor in a long time, at least not until Andy and Aquila crash-landed outside of her father's estate. Though she's busy trying to fill her parents' shoes as host the best she can, they are both much more interested in finding out her life's secrets... secrets she might not want to know herself. (Original short-ish story)
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
8
Reads
512
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Vivian had felt herself growing colder. She was about to call him a liar, but remembered her promise. Even though it wasn’t true, couldn’t be true. Swallowing her words, she instead chose different ones. “How do you know this?”
“I was one of your father’s hired guards. Not for him, personally, but as one of his board member’s bodyguards. I was part of his army, too, when the war came. A commander. But then…” he trailed off, looking out of the door.
“But then I deserted.”
“What?” Vivian gasped. “You’re a… you’re one of the union rats!”
Aquila quirked an eyebrow at the comment, but said nothing.
“Why in the world would you do something like that? Turn rotten, like those raggedy… ugh!”
“Because of Andromeda. She was the leader of one of the battalions fighting against your father, one of those “union rats” you described. Had been involved from the start, getting people to fight for their rights, for decent wages, for copyrights they were owed. She was the one who came up with the idea of using the robots they manufactured as weapons, a stroke of genius that meant all the difference in the war. She came to me one night after a particularly long and bloody battle, one I had lost. She sneaked into camp, though she still won’t tell me how she did it, and asked me to join her. At first I thought she was trying to trick me, then that she was crazy, but, after talking until sunrise, I agreed. I was sick of the blood, the smell of death, mud, and ash always clinging to my skin, no matter how often I washed my hands, and I was sick of killing people that I knew were innocent.”
“Those 'innocent' people killed my family!” screeched Vivian, standing up.
She stopped and frowned. “Wait. I mean… my family is all right. They’re just upstairs, sleeping. They’re all right. I know they are! Why would I say something like that?”
“That was not everything I was going to tell you, Vivian. Please sit down. This is hard for me to say but…”
“No, they’re all right! They are just upstairs!” shrieked Vivian, grabbing Aquila’s hand and pulling at him. “I’ll show you!”
“Vivian, they aren’t here.”
“Why would you even think that?”
“Andromeda. She was worried after she met you in the hallway last night. She started looking around, found your parents’ door unlocked. She went in. There was no one there. The room was empty. Vivian, your parents aren’t here. And from the look of it, the dust, the newspaper on their bedside table… they’ve been gone for years,” Aquila said, looking down.
Suddenly he looked up, their eyes meeting. “How old are you, Vivian?”
She felt breathless. She could hardly keep up with his change of tone, and with everything he was saying. “I’m nine. Didn’t I tell you that?” she said, her voice high and trembling.
He nodded. “Come on, I want to show you something.” he said, standing up and looking around. She stood instinctively, feeling dazed, almost sick. Her hands were shaking, and she felt the room spinning around her. Still, she managed to follow him, until he finally stopped in front of a large barrel-chested robot. It wasn’t a complete one, just a torso and an arm. He stopped in front of it.
“Look.”
Vivian did a double take. “What do you mean?”
He merely angled the metallic torso closer to her, and stepped back.
She did as he asked. “There’s nothing there. I can’t see anything except myself.”
She was about to step away from it when Aquila grabbed her arm. “Look deeper. What do you look like?Concentrate.”
She couldn’t find the point in this, but as she looked closer she saw something shift. She looked at Aquila, eyes wide, but he didn’t react, and so she looked back at her reflection. Slowly, starting with the eyes, then the cheekbones, her nose, her mouth, her face changed in front of her. Instead of a little girl with white-yellow curls, a golden haired woman stared back at her. She couldn’t look away, mesmerized by her appearance. She lifted her hand to her cheek.
“It’s really me,” she said, not looking away. “I look like Mom. But… how?”
“It’s been years since the war, Vivian, more than a decade. You grew up.”
“I was one of your father’s hired guards. Not for him, personally, but as one of his board member’s bodyguards. I was part of his army, too, when the war came. A commander. But then…” he trailed off, looking out of the door.
“But then I deserted.”
“What?” Vivian gasped. “You’re a… you’re one of the union rats!”
Aquila quirked an eyebrow at the comment, but said nothing.
“Why in the world would you do something like that? Turn rotten, like those raggedy… ugh!”
“Because of Andromeda. She was the leader of one of the battalions fighting against your father, one of those “union rats” you described. Had been involved from the start, getting people to fight for their rights, for decent wages, for copyrights they were owed. She was the one who came up with the idea of using the robots they manufactured as weapons, a stroke of genius that meant all the difference in the war. She came to me one night after a particularly long and bloody battle, one I had lost. She sneaked into camp, though she still won’t tell me how she did it, and asked me to join her. At first I thought she was trying to trick me, then that she was crazy, but, after talking until sunrise, I agreed. I was sick of the blood, the smell of death, mud, and ash always clinging to my skin, no matter how often I washed my hands, and I was sick of killing people that I knew were innocent.”
“Those 'innocent' people killed my family!” screeched Vivian, standing up.
She stopped and frowned. “Wait. I mean… my family is all right. They’re just upstairs, sleeping. They’re all right. I know they are! Why would I say something like that?”
“That was not everything I was going to tell you, Vivian. Please sit down. This is hard for me to say but…”
“No, they’re all right! They are just upstairs!” shrieked Vivian, grabbing Aquila’s hand and pulling at him. “I’ll show you!”
“Vivian, they aren’t here.”
“Why would you even think that?”
“Andromeda. She was worried after she met you in the hallway last night. She started looking around, found your parents’ door unlocked. She went in. There was no one there. The room was empty. Vivian, your parents aren’t here. And from the look of it, the dust, the newspaper on their bedside table… they’ve been gone for years,” Aquila said, looking down.
Suddenly he looked up, their eyes meeting. “How old are you, Vivian?”
She felt breathless. She could hardly keep up with his change of tone, and with everything he was saying. “I’m nine. Didn’t I tell you that?” she said, her voice high and trembling.
He nodded. “Come on, I want to show you something.” he said, standing up and looking around. She stood instinctively, feeling dazed, almost sick. Her hands were shaking, and she felt the room spinning around her. Still, she managed to follow him, until he finally stopped in front of a large barrel-chested robot. It wasn’t a complete one, just a torso and an arm. He stopped in front of it.
“Look.”
Vivian did a double take. “What do you mean?”
He merely angled the metallic torso closer to her, and stepped back.
She did as he asked. “There’s nothing there. I can’t see anything except myself.”
She was about to step away from it when Aquila grabbed her arm. “Look deeper. What do you look like?Concentrate.”
She couldn’t find the point in this, but as she looked closer she saw something shift. She looked at Aquila, eyes wide, but he didn’t react, and so she looked back at her reflection. Slowly, starting with the eyes, then the cheekbones, her nose, her mouth, her face changed in front of her. Instead of a little girl with white-yellow curls, a golden haired woman stared back at her. She couldn’t look away, mesmerized by her appearance. She lifted her hand to her cheek.
“It’s really me,” she said, not looking away. “I look like Mom. But… how?”
“It’s been years since the war, Vivian, more than a decade. You grew up.”
