C.T.

www.thirdpersonwar.com

Timmy felt much better the next morning. There was no way of telling what time it was or where he was. He was too distracted yesterday to ask. He only knew because Rachel had woken him. She gave him clothes to change into and then gave him a tour.

She explained how they were in an underground base and showed him the tunnel systems that connected the rooms and main corridors. As they passed through the narrow tunnels, men would back up against the walls to let them pass. They all addressed him as “Commander.”

“They don’t know?” Timmy asked.

“No.” Rachel said.

After ten minutes of walking through small tunnels and up ladders, they came to a large metal door. Rachel typed in a code on the number pad and the door opened. Inside, was a long table filled with men in army vests. He noticed the faces of the men who helped him escape.

When they walked in, the room grew silent. All eyes were on Timmy.

“Only these people know.” Rachel said.

There was still silence until an old man sitting at the head of the table said, “Alright, let’s get started.”

Everyone sat down at the table, the only seat left for Timmy was at the other end of the table. Johny and Rachel sat on either side of him.

The old man spoke directly to Timmy. “My name is CT. You are in the headquarters of the Bloody Rebellion. Is it true that you have lost your memory?”

“No.” Timmy replied. “I’m just dreaming right now.”

“I see.” CT said. “Do you have any memories at all? From what you believe to be reality?”

“Yes.”

“Tell us about them.”

Timmy told them. They all stared with blank expressions.

“He thinks of himself as a child.” One man said aloud.

“He lives without purpose.” Said another.

“His mother still makes his lunch.”

“Quiet.” CT said.

The room became quiet.

“Timmy, do you know why you started this rebellion?”

“Yes, so that each man could have his own truth.”

“Have you ever known what its like to not have your own truth? Have you ever felt the desperation of wanting to believe something and not being able to express it?”

Timmy looked at CT. He couldn't see his eyes past the sunglasses. But he felt them burrowing inside his soul. “No, I’ve never felt that way about my truth.”

“And what is your truth?”

He thought about the Christian Bible sitting by his bed. He thought about the empty prayers. He thought about the lies he said. He thought about the numb.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to know? Would you be willing to sacrifice everything for it?”

“Why?”

CT took off his sunglasses and looked at Timmy with glazed, lifeless eyes. “Because in this dream, you’ll have to.”

For the rest of the meeting, they ignored Timmy. He didn’t know why. They began to argue about who was going to lead the Bloody Rebellion. Of course, no decision was made. Each voice in the room only grew louder and louder. The one person who didn’t seem to be affected was Johny. He saw each person’s perspective. He didn’t have his own.

Eventually CT calmed everyone down. They agreed on a temporary board of leadership with several members including Johny, Rachel, CT, and a few others. In the meantime, CT would train Timmy. No one argued after that.

Rachel was walking Timmy back to his room.

“You know, you are lucky.” She said.

“Why?”

“I’m surprised they didn’t kill you right then and there. You didn’t really give them much of a reason not to.”

Timmy didn’t reply.

“You’re useless without your memories. You are not yourself anymore. And you ask me why...”

Timmy looked up at her. He thought he that behind her blunt words that she really felt something else. He thought he saw sadness.

“What if I don’t want to be leader?” He asked.

“What do you mean? You are talking as if you had a choice.”

“Well, what if I left this place?”

“Then you would die.”

Timmy considered that. “Why doesn’t CT become leader? He seems to be the most qualified.”

“Two reasons. First, he doesn’t want to. Second, he’s blind.”

“What does CT stand for?”

“Can’t tell.”

The next day he was with CT in the training room. It was really just like any other room in the base. It was cold, dark, and small.

“You should know about the world you are in.”

Timmy nodded.

“It will help you understand why you are here.”

“Here in this dream, or here in this world?”

“Both.”

CT twirled his walking stick between his fingers. “I know you do not care if you die here. Maybe you think you will wake up. But in any case, that’s not the point. If you want to grow, if you want to learn"then even if this is a dream, you should treat it as if it is real.”

Timmy looked down.

“Be honest to yourself.” CT said.

“That’s hard.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a terrible liar.”

CT smiled. “I know what you mean.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Let me tell you a story.”

“Okay.”

“It is about a man. He lived under a mason jar. He loved it in that mason jar. Inside it, people praised him. They were kind to him and gave him all the extraneous words a man could ever want. He had prestige, respect, and too much money to count in the community of that mason jar.

“Then one day, he caught a glimpse of something outside. It was blurry and misconstrued, but for reasons he could not explain, he never once forgot it. You see, in the back of his mind, something had reminded him. He realized that the mason jar was a lie. And the moment he stepped out of that mason jar, he realized it was a lie he had created.

“The prestige, respect, and money stayed under that mason jar. That man did not go back to those things. He looked at them and the lies he had to live in order to achieve them. The only thing he felt was disgust.”

CT tilted his head back towards the ceiling. “From then on, he saw clearly. He realized that everyone lived under glass jars. Some were big, others were small. The mason jar he had been under was by far the largest. And he made it his life’s goal to help those people get out from under that glass.”

“Was that man you?” Timmy asked.

“No, it’s a parable. Have you never heard of one?”

“Too many... I’m tired of parables.”

“Ah, I forgot about your Jesus. So you understand it?”

“Sort of. I guess the question is, what is my mason jar? This dream, or my reality?”

“It doesn’t matter. As long as you don’t lie to yourself. As long as you get out of it.”

There was silence for a moment.

“So what was it that the man saw outside the mason jar?” Timmy asked.

CT cleaned his black glasses, revealing his lifeless eyes. “He saw a starving child holding up a mirror.”

For the rest of the day CT taught Timmy how to fight. He taught him to attack the eyes, knees, and groin of the enemy. He showed him where to stab someone without attracting attention in a crowd. He made him practice using a pistol"not a normal firearm that Timmy had seen in movies, but one that shot out silent metal discs that cut through anything.

CT also taught him about Nanites. He explained they were microscopic robots inside the body that enhanced certain characteristics. Some increased muscle mass, others enhanced reflexes. When Timmy asked what his did, CT replied, “We don’t really know. A combination of many enhances. But it is very powerful.” He explained that it was the Nanites which kept Timmy alive when he fell from the building onto the truck.

It was difficult for Timmy to think that CT was blind. He could walk perfectly fine without his stick. He could even tell who was winning in a fight by listening. His impairment was his strength in a way.

That night, they were alone in the training room.

“Did I really assassinate the President?” Timmy asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You did it on your own accord. He was about to pass another arms bill, pushing more money into defense. But I doubt you killed him for that reason, they would have passed the bill anyways.”

“What do you mean?”

“The President is just a pawn. He has no power. We believe there are those behind the scenes that have the real control.”

Timmy nodded his head. CT continued, “But you were so adamant about assassinating him. And it had to be you. You didn’t allow anyone else to come along or help"not even your closest friend, Johny. It was... out of the ordinary.

“And then losing your memory? I can’t imagine it was coincidence.”

Timmy remembered the locket dangling from his neck. He pulled it out from underneath his shirt and twirled it with his fingers. The oxidized copper gave off the scent that he remembered.

“What is that?” CT asked.

“It’s a locket. It was with me ever since I started dreaming.”

“Hand it to me.”

Timmy handed it to him.

“Have you told anyone else about this?”

“No.”

“Has anyone else seen it?”

“No one except you.”

CT handed back the locket. “Keep it that way.”

“Why?”

“There is a girl inside, isn’t there?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know her.”

“You did. You only forgot. And if I don’t know about it, chances are that no one else knows about it either. In other words, you’ve been keeping it a secret. And you only keep secrets for good reasons.”

“Okay.”

“She could be in danger.”

“What do you mean?”

“The girl in your locket. She could be in danger. The government captured you, Timmy. You don’t think that they wouldn’t have searched you during that time? For all we know, they could be torturing her right now for information on you.”

Timmy was silent.

“I know you believe this to be a dream, but do you feel anything for this girl?” CT asked.

“If what you say is true, then yes. She needs my help.”

“Good.”

“Why?”

“Because feeling something is the first step to getting out from underneath your glass jar.”

“Even if that feeling is guilt?”

“Especially if that feeling is guilt.”