Mushy Rice

www.thirdpersonwar.com

“Have you ever killed someone?” Timmy asked.

“Yes.” Johny replied.

“How do you feel about it?”

“It depends on who it is. I tell myself that it is for a good cause. I tell myself that their deaths are the harsh necessity of freedom... If one death means freedom for millions, is it not worth it? I would gladly give my life for freedom. I think anyone who doesn’t is simply selfish.

“Do you feel guilty for killing the President?”

“Yes.”

Johny smiled. “I guess some things are still the same. Before you lost your memory, you were always fighting your conscience with the thought of violence. You hated the idea of fighting fire with fire, but you didn’t have any water. And yet, you never hesitated to take life...

“I’m not sure if any water exists in this world. Maybe if it does, it would be the locket around your neck.”

Timmy felt it underneath his shirt. “How did you know?”

“I just noticed. I’m good at that. I can’t help my empathy. It’s why I’ve been looking for the same answer. Can you fight without fighting? Can you gain peace through war? It seems like too many paradoxes for me to wrap my head around. But it doesn’t mean I won’t try in the meantime.”

Timmy nodded his head. “CT told me not to tell anyone about it.”

“He’s right. Keep it a secret. And don’t worry. I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course, that’s what friends are for.” Johny said. His face went down and Timmy saw something he hadn’t before. His eyes searched the damp wall as water dripped from a crack in the wall.

“You wish I didn’t go alone to assassinate the President.” Timmy said.

Johny didn’t reply. It was the first time Timmy had ever seen an emotion that was his own. They must have been great friends in his past life.

“You always did things your own way, Timmy. Even when we met, I knew you were a rebel. And that is something I have never tried to change. I’ve only done what I can to show you the perspective of others.” Johny looked up at him. “I’m glad you assassinated the President on your own. To change that action would be to change who you are.”

That day, CT had taught Timmy how to use a sniper rifle. It was the same gun that had spoken to him before he had fainted. It was the gun he used to kill the President. For the most part, his hand was still as steady as it ever was. On the shooting range, he hadn’t missed a single target. In his original reality, Timmy would have missed them all.

CT also taught him how to pick locks, grapple from buildings, and strangle people.

Lastly, he explained that nanites were activated by extreme emotion.

“Like anger?” Timmy asked.

“Any type of emotion, as long as it is honest.”

Timmy turned his head, sweat dripping from his chin from trying to strangle people. “What do you mean by honest?”

“It means the emotion must have purpose.”

Still, Timmy did not understand. He did not understand, because he still did not understand what purpose was. He thought that knowing one’s purpose was like knowing one’s future.

“Do you know what the first thing you ever said to me was?” CT asked.

“No.”

“Let me tell you.”

“Okay.”

“It was a question. And it went like this: ‘Are you helping or hurting this world?’” CT looked straight into Timmy’s eyes. He only did this when he was saying something of importance. The stare from a blind man is something to never take lightly. “I have never forgotten it. It the reason I decided to help you. And I ask myself that same question every day.

“At the time, you were only twelve years old and had two others in your rebellion. You lived in the sewers and were dressed in rags. But you were burning with a passion that I had never seen before. You were living for a purpose that you were willing to die for.

“It reminded me of what I had once had but lost. It reminded me of the glass jar I was underneath.”

Timmy wiped the sweat from his brow, not breaking eye contact with the blind man. “Was I the starving child with the mirror?”

CT shook his head. “Didn’t I already tell you? That was just a parable. You once called yourself a Christian, you should know what a parable is.”

The cafeteria in the base was very modest. They ate like a real army should"terribly. The food was mostly rations stolen from the United World food distribution centers. Timmy learned that the rebellion survived through hit-and-run tactics. They didn’t have the firepower to face the U.W. head on. It’s why they hid underneath the city. It why they were the only successful rebellion against the government.

He thought of the starving child he had stolen the food from while twirling his spoon through the mushy rice.

“Are you alright?” Johny asked.

“Yeah.” Timmy replied.

He took a spoonful and put it in his mouth. It tasted like mushy rice should.

“CT wanted me to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Well, the temporary leadership group wants to know whether or not you will come back to the position of leadership. You always have a choice. But if you wanted to be leader again, then you would have to prove yourself.”

“How?”

“There is a big mission coming up at the end of the month. It’s being called Operation Downcast. We’ll be launching our largest assault in the history of the Bloody Rebellion.”

“What is the target?”

“The Romans Building. It is the main control censor that the government uses to control all forms of media. If we take it down, it will give us the chance to tell the world about the government’s atrocities and a way to fight back.”

“So they want me to prove myself by going on this operation?”

“Yeah. But only if it is what you want.”

Timmy took another spoonful of mushy rice. It still tasted like mushy rice. “I don’t know what I want. I can only eat what’s put in front of me.”

“Then you’ll do it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Maybe it will help you wake up.”

“Maybe.”

Timmy went back to his food when he noticed Rachel walk into the cafeteria. She ignored them both as she got her serving of mushy rice and walked to a table with large, muscle-enhanced soldiers. She hadn’t spoken to him since walking him back from the leadership meeting.

“She hasn’t spoken to me since the leadership meeting.” Timmy said.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. She’ll get over it.”

“What did I do?”

“You lost your memory.” Johny wiped his mouth. “There’s something you should know about Rachel. Every man in her life has hurt her. The women in her life avoided her. And for a moment, you pulled her out of that dark life. You gave her a purpose like you did for so many.

“But when you lost your memory, I can only imagine you became another failure in her eyes. And Rachel won’t stand for failure. She won’t stand for weakness.”

“I see.”

It was late at night, but there was only a small time frame for Timmy to learn all that CT had to teach him. They were in the training room, the second largest room aside from the cafeteria. No one else was there.

CT was explaining tactics in different scenarios"the correct way to ambush, how to fight an enemy who outnumbers you greatly, and so on. Currently, they were looking at blueprints of the Romans Building. Timmy learned that it was a massive structure"the tallest building in the city"a true representation of the government’s control.

“Do you know how the United World came to power?” CT asked.

“No.”

“Let me tell you.”

“Okay.”

“They disseminated the way in which people thought. They used logic and honesty to open people’s perspectives, promising world peace. And once they did that"once they gained the entire world’s trust"they attacked and swept the world. Most countries didn’t even fight back. They accepted United World, thinking that they would have freedom, peace, and equality.

“What they received was slavery. And that is why you are going to fight them. Because the biggest glass jar is one that the United World created.”

Timmy nodded his head. His eyes wandered across the large room as he took in the value of its silence. A lone grasshopper began singing. It reminded him it was nighttime.

CT didn’t say anything. He was listening as well.

Timmy lied down on the cold cement floor, stretching his arms above his head. He closed his eyes and felt the copper locket press against his chest as he breathed. A period of time had passed of which he could not remember.

“When will I be able to help her?” He asked.

“Soon. But not yet.”

“Why?”

“It’s too dangerous to search for her. The computer system in the base tracks every facial recognition entry. Someone could easily find out that you’ve looked for her. And even if you could find out where she was, what would you do? You haven’t completed your training.

“You would be captured, tortured, and sent to another dream.”

“You think to die would send me to another dream?”

“Yes"or another existence of some sort.”

“Why?”

“I can’t imagine not existing. I’ve never known what it feels like. Have you?”

“No.”

The next morning, Timmy was eating breakfast with Johny. They had sticky rice instead of mushy rice.

“Are you tired of having diarrhea every day as I am?” Johny asked.

Timmy ate a spoonful of sticky rice. “Yeah.”

Someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Rachel. “Mind if I sit down?” She asked.

“No, not at all.”

Rachel sat down next to him and said, “I’m sorry for avoiding you.”

“It’s alright.”

“In the last meeting, CT said that your training is going well.”

“Yeah, it’s going pretty well.”

“That’s good. So you feel ready for the raid tomorrow?”

“Raid? What raid?” Timmy asked.

“You mean... you haven’t told him?” Rachel asked.

“Well... I was getting around to that.” Johny looked at Timmy. “You are tired of rice everyday, aren’t you?”

“That’s quite the leading question.”

“We want you to come on a food raid with us. It’s pretty standard. Nothing usually goes wrong.”

“Why?”

“The leadership group just thought that it would be good for you to get some experience before taking on Operation Downcast.” Rachel said.

“I see.”

“So you want to come along?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Rachel smiled. “Good. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure everything will be fine. It looks like you are turning into your old self.”

She got up from her seat and walked away. “Good luck. I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks. See you around.”

Timmy took a sip of his tea. At least he had that. It did not come out as diarrhea. “I guess she’s not mad at me anymore.”

“I guess not.” Johny replied. “I think its because you are growing in your power.”

Timmy sat silently in the back of the ice cream truck. His gun rattled in its holster as they went over pot hole after pot hole. Mushy rice swirled in his stomach. There were ten men in the back with him, including Johny. Apparently, ice cream trucks were not obvious vehicles in this dream.

He checked his gear again. They had given him very little. He wore a plain construction jacket, a holstered gun, a knife, two backup magazines, and an earpiece transmitter. He had thought that with the high technology in this world, they would be carrying more, but Johny had explained their advantage was in the nanites.

“Only the Bloody Rebellion has them.” Johny explained. “You stole the technology from the government and killed its inventor. They haven’t been able to duplicate it since.”

He sat in the back, going over the plan in his head again. They were raiding a government food distribution site not far from the underground base. He had learned that the underground base’s entrance was in an abandoned storage facility, surrounded by suburbs.

It had been two weeks since he had seen the sun when he came out of the tunnel of the base. It was bright and hurt his eyes, reminding him he was still human"that this dream was real. He didn’t think that subtleties such as that were possible in dreams. Maybe they were.

Suddenly the truck stopped. They all jumped out of the vehicle and ran into the nearest alley. They all knew the plan.

One man bent down and pulled off the cover of a storm drain while the rest jumped down into the sewer. Timmy hit the water and felt it soak through his tennis shoes. Johny lead while the last man closed the storm drain and the ice cream truck drove off.

They ran in the dark, following the sound of each other’s footsteps. Johny lead the way seamlessly, having memorized the sewers. At one point, Timmy knew them too.

After twenty minutes, they stopped at another storm drain. Johny hoisted one of the men up to remove the covering and the rest followed. They found themselves in another alley. It was indistinguishable from the alley they had came in from. Graffiti sprayed the walls. Broken glass covered the ground.

There was however, a homeless man sleeping in the alley. He was listening to dead radio static. Timmy stopped to look at him. He wondered if the old man’s dreams were as exciting as his own.

The fenced distribution plant was directly adjacent to the alley.

One of the men pulled out his knife and cut a hole in the fence while the rest put on black balaclavas. The building was massive. The parking lot between them and the building was a one-hundred yard distance. They sprinted towards it as fast as they could.

The security of the distribution center was relatively low. It had a handful of guards with handguns and several security cameras.

Timing was everything. It was Timmy and Johny’s job to take out the security cameras on the left side of the building and kill the guards in front of the base. But before they could do that, the others would have to come in from the top of the building and take out the security room so no one would call for help.

So as they approached the building, Timmy and Johny ran to the left wall while the rest kept right.

They watched as the men climbed the wall. Johny checked his watch. “Report when you have taken out the security room.” Johny said over the earpiece.

“Roger.” The others replied.

Timmy and Johny waited for a few moments. They didn’t hear any gunfire or sounds of death. It was a good sign. The pistols they carried shot silent metal disks.

“All clear.”

“Move.” Johny said as he ran across the left wall.

Timmy followed close behind, watching as Johny took out each rotating security camera. Suddenly Johny stopped and motioned Timmy ahead.

Running past him, Timmy pulled out his pistol and in two shots, took out the next security camera. They did this until they had made it to the end of the building. The length of the building they ran was three hundred yards.

“Phase two.” Johny said.

They waited by the corner of the building until Johny tapped Timmy’s shoulder. Taking a breath, Timmy ran quickly and silently. There were two guards laughing by the entrance. He could hear their conversation.

“Well, at least she didn’t scratch you! The last girl I got off the streets dug her nails into my face. You can imagine how it was trying to explain that to the wife!”

“Haha, that’s cause you’re an idiot!”

There were no security cameras here to watch. Timmy slowed down as he approached. There was an indention to the entrance, so they didn’t see what was coming to them.

“Well... you’re probably right. What did you do this weekend?”

The other man didn’t reply.

Timmy pulled out his knife with his right hand. In his left, he held his pistol.

“What? You’re not going to tell? Come on! Haha. What did you do?”

The man didn’t get a chance to tell. Timmy turned the corner into the indention, stabbed the man closest to him, and shot the man leaning on the opposite wall.

Timmy had never knew what the sound of dying men was like. In a second, Johny was next to him. He shot both men, ending their lives quickly. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go. Phase three.”

They walked into the front entrance and immediately began clearing the warehouse. There were forty warehouse workers throughout the facility. All of them had to be subdued.

But as soon as Timmy and Johny met up with the rest of the raiding group, they could tell something was wrong. As they split up and swept the warehouse, no workers could be found.

“Call off the trucks.” Johny said.

Suddenly, gun fire pierced through their earpieces. “Regroup by the security immediately. Protect it at all cost.” Johny said. Timmy ran behind him. Two more shots were fired.

“What’s going on?” Timmy asked.

“We’ve been tipped off. If they get to the security room to call for help, it’s all over.”

They ran low, away from the security room. “Where are we going?”

“We’re taking out whoever fired those shots. Now be quiet.”

As they swept each aisle of the warehouse, Timmy saw one of their own men lying on the ground. A puddle of blood surrounded him. He was searching for air. For a moment, Timmy saw his brother’s face on that man. And that face’s lifeless eyes were looking right at him.

Panic overcame him. It shouted at him. It left him immobile. Time seemed to stop and he felt his heart freeze. Blood stopped flowing and a great pressure began to build inside his head. It grew until he couldn’t take it anymore, not that he could react to it. His body wouldn’t move.

He had felt this before, when falling onto the truck. He wanted to cry out in pain. He wished that death would come to him immediately. And that’s when he felt his brain explode. And then he saw everything.

He knew where their attackers were"how many their were. He could hear their breaths, their footsteps, their heartbeats. He knew they were carrying automatic weapons and that they were wearing protective vests. And he followed them, knowing that time was infinite. And when he found them, he did the only logical thing. He killed them one by one, with his knife.

Their efforts to fight back were useless. He knew where their bullets would go. He simply didn’t go in those directions. He had killed more than half of them before they knew what was happening. And once their bodies were on the floor, lifeless, his brother’s face appeared on all of them"his brother from reality.

He fainted.

“How did the food raid go?” CT asked.

“From what Johny tells me, they got the food. We lost two operatives.” Timmy said.

“You know what I mean.”

“I activated my nanites.”

“What triggered you?”

“I saw my brother’s face on a dead man.”

“Your brother from reality?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think that means?”

“I don’t know.”

Timmy went back to his room that night. It was small and standard. It was the same room he had when he was leader of the Bloody Rebellion. He thought his former self was a good leader for not taking more than the men serving him.

He laid down in his bed, looking up at the cave ceiling. And then something had struck him. He reached for the locket around his neck, but couldn’t find it. When had he lost it? Why didn’t he notice until now? He did not know the answer.

He sat up and searched his room until his saw it sitting on the nightstand.

It was open.