Clack Clack Clack

Hunched over in his chair, Rooke typed away incessantly at his computer, the only light illuminating the dark room he had been in for the past 5 hours. He leaned back in his chair and brushed away a stray lock that fell carelessly in his line of sight. His half empty coffee cup, cold to the touch, sat next to him as he removed his glasses. He exhaled heavily and pinched his nose, rubbing the corners of his eyes.

Taking a cursory look at the screen, he went over the document one last time. His eyes raked over the title, “Conformity in Action: An In-Depth Analysis on the Recent History of Synergy, Bending, and The Republic”, the subtitles, the content. With a tired, nonsensical mutter, he pressed down on the enter key decisively and shut his laptop, moving to place it inside his bag.

He checked his watch. 2:20 AM.

He turned on his heel and exited his office into the main laboratory. There were no lights to shut off; moonlight leaking in from the rooftop windows gleamed off the metal and glass of the objects in the room, making them seem eerily impersonal. Leaving the building, he located his car under the light of a flickering lamp and sped away.

It wasn’t a surprise that the lights were on when he arrived home. He pushed past the gate and approached the front door, unlocked upon his arrival. Rookie shrugged off his coat and lay his bag near the hanger before entering the kitchen.

“Still up? You should be resting,” he said lightly, with a small smile.

An elderly woman, who sat at the table with a stack of papers in one hand and a hot mug of tea in the other, grinned at him before saying, ”You know I’ve got the energy and heart of any person your age."

“Yes, you do, and it astounds me everyday.” He grabbed a porcelain cup from the cabinets and poured Jasmine tea into it, watching the steam coil and rise, “I finished the revisions today—just submitted it your favorite journal."

She closed her eyes and nodded sagely, “Good to hear. I do love ’Science of The Republic’. Despite the damnable title, it’s a good source." She motioned to the chair next to her and said, ”Come here and stop hunching your back—you look like you’re 50."

Rooke smiled and sat down, cupping the warm cup with both hands. His reflection looked back at him, and he realized how haggard he looked; crow’s feet, droopy eyes, and frayed hair stared back at him.

They sat in relative silence, before his grandma reached out a wrinkled hand to grasp his own.

“Rooke,” she said softly, “This is killing you. I know you, and I know The Republic—they're twisting your work."

He barked out a laugh and shook his head, ”Killing me? That’s a bit of an exaggeration. I understand what you’re saying, but there is nowhere else I would have the resources and reputation that I have now.”

Rooke downed the last of his tea, ignoring the burning sensation that crawled through his throat and rested in his stomach. He looked his grandmother in the eye and gave her hand a tight squeeze, and said, ”I know you worry, but I enjoy what I do. Do I agree with the way the government utilizes all of my work? No. But that's a mistake I won’t make again."

She eyed him tiredly and responded, ”We’ve been through this; as long as you work for them, you perpetuate what you don’t believe in. It’s no longer a matter of personal ideology."

He bit back a retort and smoothed his hair back before standing to leave. He moved to kiss his grandmother on the forehead and stopped at the doorway; "Tomorrow I’ll be focusing on Constructive Synergy Tech again. I won’t let his vision waste away. Goodnight Gran.” He smiled softly turned away; Shadows emphasizing the lines on his face and his smile dropped into a tired frown. With half lidded eyes, Rooke sluggishly climbed the steps to his room, before collapsing on the bed and towards the relief of sleep.

The buzzing sound of hair clippers filled the room as Yara stared in the mirror, carefully shaving the left side of her head. She started at the strip by her temple, cutting down until she noticed a long hair drop. Instantly Yara noticed a folly she had made, a mistake she made every time she shaved her head on her own. Her shirt was still on, she muttered some words of frustration under her breath and continued. She leaned her head over the sink further now to minimize the damage as she worked her way up the side of her head until she started seeing long hairs fall once more. Finally she set down the clippers and examined her work intently, it was satisfactory, her roots weren't showing yet, and when she ran her hand across the shaved section of her head and felt the soft prickly sensation of freshly shaven hair.

Pleased with her work she smiled, but the feeling was short-lived as it was quickly followed by a sigh as she pulled her shirt over her head. Within a few moments she was standing in the bathroom in her bra and pants, swinging her shirt against the counter, thankful that there was no outside observers to watch her actions, she paused for a moment to look around and make sure that was the case upon thinking about it. After she finished smacking the hair off her shirt to a satisfactory degree, it was finally time for the final step in what was probably the most annoying part of her life, the rinse. Normally that meant another shower, but as of late she had been getting pretty damn good at getting it all off in the sink. She moved adeptly so the water swept away the hair remaining on her and dripped off before roaming down far enough to be a bother, it was a skill she was rather proud of, though she doubted many appreciated it.

With that tedious, boring, and all around horrible task that noone cares about completed it was time to go out and... Well honestly just wander. She crept out of a house that by all rights would more accurately be described as a mansion, black nail polish covering freshly manicured nails, cheap practical clothes, and driving a decade old car. Her defense mechanisms against the outside world. certainly better than having a bodyguard like her uncle.

It had been a few weeks since her last venture outside of the house. There was really no need, she could get anything she wanted there. But actually meeting and speaking to people in person was necessary sometimes. So here she was driving watching as the freshly mowed pristine lawns and gated driveways were replaced by cracked sidewalks and barred windows. She parked outside a pawn shop and left the car unlocked. She thought that if someone felt the need to steal her car, they obviously needed it more than her.

And so she began walking, there was always something going on in this part of the city. The sound of distant sirens, the smell of tire shops, and broken catalytic converters, she probably only enjoyed it because she had never actually experienced it. But still it was something she loved. She just closed her eyes and took it all in as she walked down the streets. Something would come to her, as long as she believed it would.

The night shift was always dreadful, and the only reason Konkiri ever agreed to work at those hours was because the factory threatened to drop him if he refused to. Though his job paid pathetically little, it was a higher wage than the majority of other available jobs in the city, and if he were to quit he wasn't sure that he would be able to find a replacement that was as stable. He never complained, then, when he was worked overtime with nothing extra or forced to watch a coworker fired because they'd asked for a little more protection against the industrial chemicals used often in the factory. The truth was that there were hardly any safety measures for the lowly laborers, and the higher-ups rarely took any action on it because they had a constant flow of both money and desperately poor folk searching for work.

With his muscles aching, then, he stepped into the morning light and tore off the flimsy paper mask he wore to protect him from dust, metal particles, and toxic gas (his boss talked about these things like they were respirators). Though the air just outside the factory wasn't exactly safe, he drank in a good deep breath of the relatively-clean air and smiled simply because, until the next shift, he had escaped. Now to get some scenery that wasn't just conveyer belts and vats of smelly fluid that smelled like ammonia. With a little shuffle of exhaustion to his gait, he made a beeline for the convenience store located a few blocks off.

The smell of coffee inside nearly made him drool. Whatever hours he worked, he had a considerable addiction to caffeine in any form. Caffeine tablets, despite being known to cause heart attacks because of how concentrated they were, were one of his favorites not only because they woke him up but also because they made Konkiri work at what felt like the speed of light. Coworkers commented often, things like "Are you high?" and "Mind if I have whatever you've got?" but whenever the tablets came out, he received looks that had You've got three years to live, tops written all over them.

Quickly he paid for a paper cup of disgusting coffee and a new supply of caffeine tablets, and left the half-asleep cashier to his job. They saw each other often, but never really spoke. They both knew that the other was just doing what was needed to make it through another day.

Now, sipping at the hot coffee that for some reason reminded him of asphalt, he shuffled down a street impatient for the stuff to take its effect. He was quite aware that he needed a good solid eight hours of sleep, but he never could sleep during the day. Luckily he had tonight off as there was a new supply of gullible workers starting the regular night shift. He wouldn't be going in until tomorrow. The thought made him dizzy with relief.

"He's gonna smell you coming from a mile away, he will."

"Why don't we get a purse?"

"Well you do it then, why don't you?"

"You do it, standing there with your big mouth. See how someone likes you walking around with their money."

"It's a sight better than walking up to Hokey's cart, is all I'm saying!"

"We're not stealing anyone's purse!" Jingfei piped up finally, looking at the ring of boys that were her friends, family and coworkers all in one. Big, shaggy haired Dom, wiry Lever, Scrap, Rat- his name spoke volumes- and Feather. They were all huddled together in one of the particularly awful alleys, planning- or at least trying to plan their next 'shopping trip'. Dom was leaning against the wall, moody as usual with his arms folded. Lever and Rat sat on an empty crate, and Jingfei, Scrap and Feather were all jostling for space on the mouldy mattress that was pushed to the far end of the alley. They all looked at her, eyebrows raised and waiting for her say on the matter. Jingfei's brow furrowed, her eyes focused on a rat that ran across the alley. "We'll do Hokey. Me and Scrap'll get a couple of pears or somethin', an' pickpocketing is a right stupid idea, Lever." She said finally, shooting the green eyed boy a look. "Not like anyone this side of the wall has anything worth swiping, anyway."

Residents of the lowest ring of Ba Sing Se, everyone in that circle was living on the barest minimum with only a few lucky ones in their district like Hokey the vendor living anything close to a comfortable life. Jingfei recalled seeing members of the Republic police force traipsing through their decrepit part of town a few days ago. They'd been so well fed she'd thought they were unhealthy, unused as she was to seeing anyone without jutting collarbones.

"Well, go do it then," Dom said dismissively.

"We're going, jeez, not like you ever get any of the food," Scrap grumbled, rising from the mattress and dusting himself off with cloth bound hands. It was true. Dom, slow as he was, was possibly one of the worst they could choose to steal food. He was big and lumbering, attracting attention wherever he went. But he was also strong and intimidating for a half-starved teen, and sometimes the group found that useful. The only worse person was Feather, who was unnaturally clumsy and slow. Jingfei got to her feet as well, straightening her tunic. The pair of them left the group without any fanfare and stepped out into the bright streets of their distric, blending in seamlessly with the other ragged people who were out and about. Hokey's stall was a few blocks away, one that they'd successfully used a few times. It was rare enough that he hadn't done much to protect his goods, and they only tried him when they were desperate.

The burly vendor's produce wasn't particularly good, but it was cheap and relatively plentiful, which meant he usually had good business.

"You got a coin on ya?" Scrap muttered to Jingfei as they approached.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I've got that and King Wu's crown on my head, don't I?" She said sarcastically. "Alright, you run through the line and push that lady over. Should knock over a few of something." She directed. Scrap nodded and took off, and Jingfei picked up her speed a little bit. Her little idea had worked. The thin woman at the front of the queue had taken a tumble onto Hokey's cart, sending vegetables careening left and right. Scrap had stayed behind, apologizing profusely and keeping Hokey's fury directed on him, and Jingfei quickly scooped up what she could into the pockets of her tunic before disappearing back into the bustling crowd.

---

"Maybe we could try the soup kitchen?" Lever suggested, wiping peach juice off his lips with a look of satisfaction.

"Soup kitchen?" Came Jingfei's reply through a mouthful of an apple, accompanied by a raised eyebrow. "Wossat?"

"They give you free food," he shrugged.

"Are you sure you're not talking about heaven?" Rat said, and Jingfei burst into gasping laughter.

"Well, s'no place like that around." Dom said dismissively.

"We could look for it." Jingfei suggested. "Free food can't be a half bad idea."

Rooke swiped his keycard on the black scanner and the expansive white door slid open, revealing a brightly lit lab. People in lab coats buzzed around the room, sharing their discoveries or hunching over their latest piece of work. It was anything but quiet—so different than the lifeless room he saw last night. He strode in, suitcase in one hand, and headed towards the end of the room, where a hallway would lead into his office.

He waved to some of his coworkers and was halfway through the room before a man, his coat slightly undone and a clean beard outlining his broad grin, pulled Rooke by the arm and near an unoccupied, metal table.

“Rooke! I saw the report you published yesterday. Our resident anarchist has done it again!” The man slapped Rooke on the back and continued, “I’m especially pleased that you left in that bit about systemic brainwashing. Good stuff. Also, you look like shit, brother."

Rooke snorted and cocked an eyebrow, “I could say the same about yourself, Archie,” He motioned vaguely at the man’s beard and smiled, “You’ve still got that monstrosity on your face. And I didn’t write anything about ’systemic brainwashing’—people are going to get the wrong idea if you say anything too loudly."

Archie rolled his eyes and replied, “Bullshit. You can call it whatever you like, 'institutional conformity', 'synergetic adaption', or whatever, but I know what you think of The Republic. There’s nothing to hide, Rooke. You’re amongst intellectuals. Friends.” He put his hand on Rooke’s shoulder gently and offered a lopsided grin.

“I know; I’m just not used to—” Rooke waved a hand at everyone in the room, working diligently and freely on their projects,—this."

“Well, you’re here now.” Archie grinned, “And if there’s anything that the STEMS department did right, it was creating the iLab. There’s a lot of freedom here not afforded anywhere else, although most of us went through a lot of shit to get here. Anyway, I just sent out the requests for some modules of synergy—we’ll go over the details later."

They waved each other goodbye, and Rooke resumed his brisk pace to the office. He entered and closed the door sharply and sunk into the chair behind his desk. It was a large room, he noticed, as he took the time to scan his surroundings. He had only been located from this office for a few months—his old workplace was larger, but less private and was farther from home. Here, he had more creative and intellectual license to pursue his projects, with less interference from The Republic, so long as he provided them with the occasional report. He had done enough for them to last a lifetime.

Rooke looked up from the screen of his laptop and watched the muddled shapes approach his door, distorted by the translucent glass. There were a couple knocks the paneled wood before it opened and one of his colleagues peeked in.

“Dr.Rooke, there’s someone here to see you.” There was a irritation laced in his voice--the man obviously had been working on something.

“Right, thank you,” Rooke said, and adjusted his coat before standing to face the door.

“Dr. Rooke.” Cypher stepped inside without so much as an invitation and immediately took stock of the room. Various books were stored along the walls, papers covering the man’s desk. A room not unlike the one he’d expected to find. More importantly, besides the space immediately behind the desk, there wasn't any room for another person to hide. He figured it was clear and motioned for Koeska to follow. When they were both safely inside, he closed the door.

“How are you doing today?” He held out his hand in a formal greeting.

“Cypher--I’m well, thank you.” Rooke shook the offered hand firmly and smiled tightly. The fatigue on his face was apparent, but it wasn’t anything strange for scientists to look tired. He motioned to a couple chairs that stood against the walls near them and said, “Have a seat, you two. I don’t presume you’re just for pleasantries or a simple report?”

He seated himself behind the wooden desk and clasped his hands together, trying to hide the nervous twitch of his leg.

“Delivery..” Cypher replied matter of factly.

Koeska produced a sealed envelope and placed it on Rooke’s desk before taking the seat Rooke had offered. “Don’t open that till tomorrow.”

Rooke stared down at the envelope and picked it up swiftly. He turned it over and traced the emblazoned royal seal with a fingertip, before tucking it away in the drawer of his desk. Taking off his glasses and wiping them with the hem of his coat, he said, “...Thank you for bringing this to me. Is there anything else you needed?”

“Well yeah.” Cypher, surprised at the Doctor’s willingness, remained standing. He figured their meeting would be brief. “We’d need you to be ready to leave for a few days by tomorrow. You’ll be gone for… at the most a week?” He sounded unsure only because he was. He didn’t know how long the trip would be, only that they needed himself and their most prominent scientist in the field of Synergy.

“You’ve heard the news I’m sure of the North Harvesting Plant?”

“Yes, although I can’t say I’ve been up to date with information about it.” Rooke pushed up the rim of his glasses before drumming his fingers on the desk. He laughed lightly before continuing, “Excuse my bluntness, but I suppose I don’t have much of a choice if you’re here to see me; I’ll be ready by then.”

“No. You’re absolutely correct. Orders came from the King himself. He wanted me to remind you of your obligatory commitments in the case that you disagreed but it doesn’t look like that will be necessary.” Edward smiled approvingly. He enjoyed business made easy by both parties. Everybody won… for the most part.

“Just to smooth over some of the smaller details so you understand. You will accompany me along with a few guards, an engineer and a partner of your choosing. We’ll be traveling to the North Harvesting Plant in the hopes that our Engineers can repair it. However your job entails the study of the portal and the Spirit Energy we harvest. The letter goes into further details, things that I can’t discuss even in here.” He paused for a moment, quickly going over what he’d just said in his head. “Everything’s already paid for. Food, water safety, a smaller lab than this but it should work all the same. We’ll have someone pick you up from your house five in the morning. You have any questions?”

“No, that should be all.” Rooke leaned back in his chair and continued, “Everything will be sorted out by then.” He was beginning to feel the start of a migraine, and wanted nothing more than to take a short nap. The sooner they got this conversation with, the better. Talking with the more bureaucratic members of The Republic almost always guaranteed a headache.

“Perfect. Dr. Rooke.” Cypher held out his hand once more. “We’ll be seeing you bright and early tomorrow morning.”

Rooke stood and grasped it firmly, “Pleasure. I’ll see you then.” He sat down as Cypher and his partner left and watched the door shut behind them. He slid open his desk drawer and pulled out the manila envelope, almost dreading the moment when he would have to open it.

“Well…” He murmured, smoothing out the creases on the paper, “I better get ready…”