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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Seven: Rest in Pain. Part One.

    August 11th, 2017

    PART ONE.

    Richard was back in the kitchen, face set soberly. His back was to a corner and his arms crossed over his chest.

    He eyed them both when they sat down. Rain was nowhere to be seen. “She headed off to the basement, and told me not to leave the house.” He sneered. “Did Leonardo tell you what Miller told us? About the,” Richard waved his hand at the back of his neck.

    Robespierre nodded grimly. “Oui.” He sat down, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

    Richard shook his head slowly and rubbed a hand over his face.

    “I’ve never imagined a future could be like this,” he muttered lowly. “The barbarity of it.”

    Robespierre nodded in agreement, and frowned sourly.

    “I agree.” The words came out slowly and very quietly. Leonardo smiled slightly. Clearly it pained the other man to admit the two of them could agree on anything.

    “So what do we do about it?” Leonardo asked quietly. Both of the other men looked at him.

    “Do?” Richard asked.

    “Si. We can’t just sit here and let ourselves be trapped here, as some entertainment to Rain,” Leonardo whispered urgently.

    Robespierre nodded again. “We could leave in the middle of night. We’d have hours ahead of her.”

    “She said the government here will catch up to us,” Richard pointed out.

    “Maybe that’s what we want, to be caught.” Leonardo stroked a hand over his chin.

    Richard turned his steely gaze to Leonardo. “What do you mean?”

    “It’s clear that Rain will not let us go. And we cannot leave without help. Ergo, we should seek to be caught. Perhaps someone will be sympathetic to our plight.” Leonardo spread his hands out and shrugged his shoulders.

    “That’s… not very optimistic,” Robespierre pointed out slowly.

    Richard made an abortive frustrated movement, as if to draw a weapon from his belt, fingers scraping his belt. “I’m not fond of the idea of just waiting for our opportunity to leave,” he growled.

    “What do you suggest, murdering Rain and running for it?” Robespierre suggested acerbically. Richard turned to the corner, hands braced on the countertop.

    “No,” he finally said, after a heavy silence. “But if the opportunity doesn’t arrive within a fortnight, I’m taking my leave of this place, aid or no.”

    Richard pushed his way past Leonardo on his way out of the kitchen.

    “Well, that went well,” he sighed. Robespierre snorted.

    “He won’t ever listen to good sense,” the Frenchman opinioned. “Only to his own.”

    Leonardo shrugged again. “We can try at least.”

    XXX

    That night, dinner passed as a quiet, awkward affair. Rain, over a simple meal of bread, olives, wine, and fish, which all three of her guests were familiar with, and so spared her the quickly exhausting task of trying to explain every food in the replicator to them. Richard would eat whatever you in front of him, as long as it was hot, while Leonardo seemed intent on questioning her on every aspect of the dish.

    Rain put her fork aside and looked at each of the three men in turn. Richard was tearing into the bread and chasing it with wine. He kept his eyes on his plate and Rain thought she could see a muscle in his cheek twitching. Leonardo was seemingly intent on his olives, and Robespierre was taking tiny delicate bites of fish, ignoring the wine entirely.

    “Look, I know you don’t understand now, but really, the IDs were the best solution for the Federation. It brought some stability back to the planet after World War three and the environmental fallout.”

    The flat unimpressed stares that she was met with made Rain half throw her hands up.

    “Out of anyone, I’d think the three of you could appreciate that the most, you know, stability.”

    “There’s a difference between stability and a leash,” Robespierre said quietly.

    “Because the Terror was the most effective means of governing,” Rain snapped back. Robespierre tilted his head, myopic gaze glittering with confusion. Rain took a deep breath and flapped her hand in his direction. “Never mind.”

    Leonardo cleared his throat gently. “When do you return to work? Surely you’ll be missed.”

    Rain leaned back and smirked. “I have another month of leave before anyone expects me back.”

    Richard glanced at Leonardo, who shrugged and smiled affably.

    “Wonderful. I’m sure you still have much to show us.”

    Rain brightened. “Yeah! There’s a lot you’ve missed being dead the past fifteen hundred years. Oh, I should show you movies tomorrow.” She smirked. “Disney is going blow your mind.”

    Leonardo nodded, smiling pleasantly. He had methodically been tearing a slice of bread into smaller and smaller chunks.

    “I’m sure it will be enlightening.”

    Rain beamed and got up from the table, taking her dish to the replicator and recycling it.

    “Don’t stay up too late, we have princess movies to watch tomorrow!” She ruffled Leonardo’s hair, and limped away.

    XXX

    Leonardo ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it back down from where Rain had touched it.

    Richard and Robespierre were silent, both of them staring at him. He sighed.

    “Two weeks, and I’m willing to try our fortune by leaving.”

    Richard nodded grimly and looked at Robespierre. “And you?”

    Robespierre glanced over the rim of his glasses and sighed. “I will not stay here, not if there is a chance to return to France.”

    Leonardo nodded and smiled gently. “I would like to return to Italy, as well.”

    “England. York.” Richard muttered.

    The three man sat in silence, thinking of their homes, a calling in their bones that couldn’t be denied.

     

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Six: Threshold. Part Four.

    August 8th, 2017

    PART FOUR.

    The hound was still trailing him.

    Richard had left Rain’s oddly garish and huge house early, stopping only to grab bread. She’d locked the so termed ‘replicator’ so he couldn’t get beer, but this the bread would serve to break his fast.

    Richard wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, only grappling with his fierce desire to get away from Rain, from the odd Italian and the French usurper. However about ten minutes into his walk, he realized that he’d gained a shadow, in the form of Rain’s massive hound, Ava.

    “Get,” he barked sharply at it. The dog stared at him, seemingly unimpressed. Richard scowled at the beast and finally with a sigh, trekked on.

    The woods around Rain’s house were not like those around the city of York. The trees were sparse, the air itself was thinner. He was climbing up a steep incline, his lungs burning. However it was more alive he’d felt since the morning of the battle with Lancaster, so Richard took what he could get. When Richard felt he was high enough, he sat down at the base of a large pine tree and wiped the sweat from his face with his shirt. It wasn’t fine enough material for him to worry about ruining, he reasoned. Ava, who had been sniffing at bushes ahead of him, turned and climbed cat-like back down the rocky incline. She sat a few feet from him, back stiff and ears pricked forward.

    “How did you fall in with Miller, hmm?” Richard asked the dog. “You seem like a beast of good sense.”

    Ava turned her head to him, and cocked it to the right.

    ‘Same as you,’ her expression seemed to say. ‘No choice but to fall in line with her mad commands.’

    Richard nodded then stopped himself.

    “I am not going to start talking to dumb beasts,” he muttered and crossed himself.

    Ava threw herself down on the ground and turned her back to him while Richard ate his breakfast. He offered the last bite to the hound.

    “Don’t be offended. I won’t be talking to the mad Frenchman either, and you’re far better company than him.”

    XXX

    By the time Richard had found his way back to the house, (a few times he had been turned around and run in the property lines, as marked by high wooden slate fences) Rain was nowhere to be seen. However Robespierre was bent over a book, a stoneware cup of…something in front of him. The Frenchman didn’t look as Richard and Ava entered. Richard fumbled with the ‘replicator’ for a few minutes but finally got the blasted device to serve him a simple stew. Although it still wouldn’t give him beer.

    He sat across from Robespierre, and stared at the man’s twisted face. He mouth was moving minutely as his eyes moved along the pages. Richard leaned slightly to make out the title, neatly stamped on the front. “The Social Contract.”

    “Hmm?” Robespierre looked up, blinking slowly. He looked as if he’d been asleep and was only just awakening. He blinked again and looked around.

    Richard gestured with his spoon.

    “What is that you’re reading?”

    Robespierre stiffened but replied, “The great philosopher, Jean-Jacques Rousseau.”

    “Someone you knew?” Richard guessed, by the way Robespierre carefully said the man’s name. Maybe some uncle or cousin. Robespierre turned the book over in his hands and looked at the cover, fingers spread over it protectively.

    “I knew him, but only by the words he spoke to me, the eternal ideas he passed down through his writings. He and I were of one kin, the same situation, the same-”

    Richard, fearing that Robespierre would continue in this thread, put a hand up. “Stop. I believe I understand.”

    Robespierre narrowed his eyes at Richard’s hand, and his mouth twisted mulishly. “Hmph. You do, do you?”

    “Yes. He’s another usurper, isn’t he?” Richard leaned forward, bracing himself on the table. He pointed empathetically at the book.

    The other man stood, chair legs scraping. He flattened the book with his hand, and in shrilly ringing tones began to read. “Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains. One thinks himself the master of others, and still remains a greater slave-”

    Richard stood up as well.

    “My sovereignty was ordained by the Lord! I reigned by his wish, and that of my people!”

    “You did nothing for the people, not if you ruled without their consent.” Robespierre rapped the table with his knuckles, punctuating his words.

    Richard felt a hot wave of fury wash over him, while guilt curdled in his stomach. He pushed it aside and focused on his anger.

    “Nothing for my people? Twenty years of devoted service to my brother, to my country, ensuring their protection and welfare is nothing to you?” He growled. “What did you offer to them? Paltry freedoms, gifts, guardianship?”

    Robespierre’s whole face twitched, as if Richard had touched some open wound that hurt him terribly.

    “I have never,” he took off his glasses and fixed his gaze on Richard “ever aspired to be the guardianship of society.” He shoved his glasses back on. “All I have wanted was for the good of the people.”

    Richard snorted. “No one is ever just in it for the good of the people.”

    “Maybe not your kind,” Robespierre snapped.

    Richard drew a deep breath, preparing himself to tear into the Frenchman. However he stopped as Rain and Leonardo entered, still talking.

    “And that was how the theory of relativity was developed.” Rain stopped and looked at Richard and Robespierre, who were standing there, flushed from their debate and Richard’s cold stew on the table. She grinned and winked.

    “Are we interrupting something?”

    XXX

    Leonardo raised his eyebrows the same time Robespierre flushed. Richard stared at the two of them blankly.

    He must have been outside for a long while, the skin of his nose and forehead was burned.

    Robespierre snatched the book off of the table and tucked it under his arm.

    “Non. I was just leaving.” With that he stalked off, upstairs towards the bedrooms.

    Rain rolled her eyes. “Drama queen, amirite?”

    Leonardo shrugged, reluctant to get in between the two.

    Richard sat back down, looked at his bowl and sighed.

    “When can I return to England, Miller?” He asked, voice plaintive. Leonardo found it prudent to busy himself at the replicator.

    “Um, never. No one can know you’re here.”

    “What?” Leonardo spun around, eyes wide.

    Rain looked at him, brown eyes surprised.

    “Well of course. You’re supposed to be dead. Dead men can’t just roam the streets of earth.”

    “How would they even know? Who remembers us after all this time?” Richard asked in exasperation, throwing a hand up.

    Rain smiled. “I didn’t exactly pick low profile people. I would say that most people would know who Leonardo is at least, you’re definitely still remembered in England and Robespierre in France.”

    “We can take different names, they don’t need to know it’s us,” Leonardo pointed out. Rain rolled her eyes again.

    “It’s not the names. It’s the fact you don’t belong. And everyone will know it too.”

    Rain stood up and turned her back to them, before moving her hair off her neck. There, just over the top vertebrate was a small silvery marking of some sort.

    “What is that?” Richard asked slowly. “Some mark devilry?”

    “No. It’s something that every person, man, woman, alien, child, has on planet earth. They’re called IDentifiers. They’re given to you immediately when you come to earth. If you’re a natural born citizen, it’s when you’re born. If you’re an alien it’s when you’re signed in as a citizen. It’s how the Federation has kept the planet at peace for so long.” She turned.

    “Everyone, from the children being born right this moment, to the old people dying has one. It’s hard to cause trouble when the government knows where everyone is all the time. It measures your heartbeat, brainwaves, tracks all your records, credits, job, housing, family, medical records, everything. And the three of you are the only ones on the planet without one. You try and go anywhere without it, and well…” She shrugged. “Let’s just say, you won’t be able to avoid the Federation for very long.”

    Leonardo knew he looked pale, and Richard was looking at Rain with true fear in his eyes.

    “So we’re trapped? Here? With you?” Richard croaked. Rain huffed, and crossed her arms.

    “You make it sound so bad. It’s better than the 16th century right?”

    Richard sprang away from his chair and bolted down the hall to the front door. They heard it slam and Rain sighed.

    “I never knew they were going to be so much trouble. I should have done Ghandi like Kam said,” she muttered, then turned to Leonardo, who was still reeling. “Can you go collect out wayward revolutionary? I’ll go after our highness, King Richard.” Before Leonardo could speak, she waved her hand in the direction that Robespierre had taken.

    He found Robespierre in his room. The door was practically open and the other man didn’t seem to be doing anything, other than absently stroking Pallas so Leonardo gently tapped on the wooden frame of the door.

    “Robespierre?”

    The door opened the rest of the way, and he entered. Robespierre looked up at him.

    “May I help you, citiz- monsieur Leonardo?” He seemed to stumble over the title.

    “Please, just Leonardo. May I sit?” He gestured to the bed. Robespierre shrugged.

    The two remained silent for a long moment. Leonardo was still processing what Rain had said.

    The violation of it chilled his soul. He tried to imagine what someone like Il Moro would have done with a power like that and shuddered. To be constantly tracked, noted, followed.

    If the Officers of the Night had that power…

    “Are you alright?” Leonardo jumped.

    Robespierre was staring at him. “You’ve gone pale and grey.”

    Leonardo swallowed hard and closed his eyes. In hushed tones he explained to Robespierre what Rain had told them. When he opened his eyes, Robespierre looked as horrified as Richard had.

    “Oh god. What do we do?” he choked out.

    Leonardo shrugged.

    “For now, go downstairs.”

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Six: Threshold. Part Two.

    August 1st, 2017

    PART TWO.

    Leonardo had to restrain himself from immediately investigating all of the cabinets, boxes, doors, and panels of the kitchen. Rain had rested her cane against the table that connected to the white marble counter top. The wood was a dark brown that shined dully in the bright white light from the overhead lights. Rain slapped a panel next to the window over the sink and the coverings slanted to allow sunlight to stream through, brightening the kitchen even more.

    The fluffy dog in Leonardo’s arms yapped away, paws scrabbling against the new tunic Rain had given him.

    “Put her down, she’ll be fine,” Rain ordered absently, flipping her long hair back and tying it up. Leonardo thought he caught sight of some kind of mark on the back of her neck, but she turned before he could confirm what he saw.

    Richard had trailed in after Leonardo, apparently leaving Robespierre’s company to the dogs. Except for one: the hound, Ava, had followed Richard in, yellow eyes fixed on him. Richard looked up at the electric lights, eyes narrowed.

    “Where are the candles?” He asked Leonardo, who smiled excitedly.

    “There are none! They are e-lec-tric,” he carefully pronounced the unfamiliar word. Richard frowned.

    “What does that mean?”

    Rain interrupted before Leonardo could explain about the tiny filaments that illuminated using the same energy as lightening.

    “You’re close Leo, but actually most of lighting used these days are actually florescent, which uses chemicals instead.”

    “Chemicals?” Richard said, the same time Leonardo mouthed the word, “Leo?” half amused, half dismayed at Rainbow’s impropriety.

    “Yep. Became cheaper than threading copper wires. It’s also easier to make for the replicators.”

    Richard sat down at the table, slumping into the chair. It was quite different from how he usually held himself, stiffly upright.

    “I do not understand any of this. The chemicals, the transporter, where the food comes from.” He waved a hand around. Ava who was so tall, she could put her head in Richard’s lap even as his feet dangled a hand’s height from the ground, pushed her muzzle into his free hand. Leonardo had the feeling that admitting such weakness was not in this man’s nature. He glanced at Rain.

    She scoffed. “You’ll adapt. It’s not so hard.”

    Leonardo, dismayed, looked back to Richard. The man’s face had hardened into a stony expression of dislike.

    “Indeed. It looks like I’ll have to,” Richard muttered, grey eyes fixed in such a way that Leonardo knew he was thinking of things other than Rain’s flippant statement. The dog in his arms whined and Leonardo finally released her to the ground, when she quickly padded away out of the room. Ava huffed, nosed Richard one more time, and followed the puppy out.

    XXX

    “Who are they?” Baby panted up at Ava. “The tall one, he smells strange, but nice.”

    Ava huffed. “I don’t know. I can smell sad things from them both, but not from Rain.” She sat down in the living room, eyes fixed on the kitchen door.

    She hadn’t expected Rain to come home so soon. If Ava hadn’t picked up the sound of her arrival, the pack would have been caught easily in the back yard. Lester and Bobby had just enough time to bury the remnants of the rabbit Lester caught before coming in to greet Rain as she expected.

    Usually if Rain had another person over it was Kam, who smelled like rivers and sand and always looked at Ava like a caught rabbit. But these men were strangers, smelling of things that Ava associated with Rain, but not like her exactly.

    She rested her head down on her paws, still staring at the door. Were they her mates? Ava didn’t think that Rain was the type to take a mate, she seemed like too much of a loner, but maybe she’d been wrong. Or were they part of Rain’s pack, like Lester, Bobby, Norma were to Ava? She smelled of them, but they weren’t her litter mates.

    As Ava considered the mystery Pallas padded into the room, with the third and smallest male, who had a hand placed on her back. Ava huffed in surprise.

    Pallas wasn’t known in the pack for being particularly friendly. She tended to be snappish, except with Baby, who was an exception from her rough tongue by virtue of being a puppy. Pallas had snapped at even Rain before, the result being Pallas being sent outside until Rain wasn’t mad anymore. Pallas definitely wouldn’t have let Rain rest her hand on her back, but she seemed perfectly at ease with this strange male stroking her dense curly fur. She woofed her greeting, raising her head. Pallas ignored her alpha, attention fixed on the male, who smiled at Ava.

    He bent at his waist, teeth flashing for a moment before he held out a hand for Ava to smell.

    “Hello Madame.” He rubbed Ava’s ears and the back of her neck. “Yes, you seem to run a very nice household here,” he spoke softly and kindly to her. “Nicer than your mistress, anyhow,” he huffed. He withdrew his hand and Ava whined, licking his hand. He made a rumbling sound at the back of his throat. “Yes, you are a good girl, hmmm?”

    He was stopped when Pallas growled, leaning her weight on his leg, trying to move him from Ava.

    “Mine, get your own human,” she snapped at Ava. Ava growled back, ears flipping back.

    “He’s not your human.”

    “Yes he is, I know it. He smells like mine.” Pallas drew a lip back.

    The male interrupted them, placing a hand on Pallas and one on Ava. He cooed at them again, dropping to his knees.

    “Shh. Enough of that.” He resumed petting them, hand soft and warm. Pallas reluctantly sat down next to Ava, still trying to get as close to the male as possible.

    This one smelled of the same kind of sad things that the other two males did, Ava noted. The smell of salt and metal and bitter. She noticed for the first time however, he was also injured. He smelt of sickness, and blood. She raised her head up higher, sniffing at his mouth. She turned to Pallas.

    “He’s sickly,” she woofed. Pallas rolled her eyes, before resting her head on his bent leg.

    “I know that. I’ll protect him.”

    Ava’s heart sank for her pack mate.

    The pack had never been outside of the fenced area and house that made up Rain’s territory. Rain herself hardly stayed here for more than a couple days. It didn’t seem likely that her males would be staying either. Pallas couldn’t really think she would be able to stay with this small sickly male?

    But before she could point this out to her, Rain came into the room.

    “There you are, Robespierre.”

    The male quickly stood, dusting himself off. Pallas got up as well, attention fixed on him, she tried to move closer to him, but the male moved away. Pallas whined, raising her paw to him.

    “No,” the male snapped, and Pallas dropped back, sinking to the floor next to Ava. The hound put her nose to her muzzle.

    Rain laughed. “I didn’t know you knew much about dogs.” She sat herself on the couch

    The male shrugged and sat himself on one of the other chairs. He sat stiffly, every muscle tensed. Ava watched as he arranged himself on the furniture, legs neatly crossed and arms folded over his chest.

    “Some things,” he muttered. Ava cocked her head, watching him with narrowed eyes.

    These males, whoever they were, would need watching.

    XXX

    The moon had risen by the time Rain finally went to bed. Ava waited until she could hear slow even breathing before getting up and padding out of the room. She nosed her way into each of the bedrooms.

    Closest to Rain was dark haired male, who smelled the most like blood and warmth, things Ava associated with being Alpha. The smell of protection, nourishment, the feeling of the pack when they were together. She watched as he stirred in his sleep, twisting and shifting. Often she could hear him mutter or yelp. When Ava rested her head on the end of the bed for a moment, his stirring ceased and his breath eased.

    “Anne,” he sighed. Ava huffed and continued her rounds.

    Across from Rain was the smallest male. Despite his brusque dismissal of Pallas earlier, Ava still found the poodle resting across the end of the bed. His sleep did not seem any easier than the male Alpha’s. The smell of sickness seemed thicker now and Ava moved on quickly.

    The final male was the one she’d been most concerned about. He didn’t smell like anything Ava knew. There were scents she could identify, like wood, chemicals, paper, but beyond that the male smelled the same way the night sky did: big.

    He wasn’t asleep when Ava crept into his room. His hands were busy and he was reading from one of Rain’s tablets.

    Norma, who had the most talent at reading human text was perched next to him.

    “He’s been reading and drawing now for hours. He keeps throwing the ball,” she poked it with her long nose, “and asking me to bring it back.” The Corgi yawned and rested her head on her paws. “It’s tedious really. Bobby would be better at this than me.”

    “You know Bobby doesn’t speak, and he can’t read, so it’s up to you to keep an eye on this one and tell me what he reads. We need to find their connection to Rain,” Ava ordered. Norma rolled her eyes and huffed.

    “Yes Alpha.”

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Six: Threshold. Part One.

    July 27th, 2017

    PART ONE.

    People crowded the streets, as busy as any market day in Paris and yet, as Maximilien looked around, everything was so clean. There were no rivers of mud, no clouds of flies over stagnant water, no thick hazy of smoke rising from the houses or shops.

    It was….deeply unnerving.

    He trailed after Leonardo and Rain, who was talking at top volume and as fast as she could move her jaw.

    “This isn’t even the biggest city on the continent, wait until I take you guys to the capital of Colorado. It has a population of over a million people.”

    “A million?” Max interjected. Rain nodded, and then pointed to the towering glass buildings around them. Greenery trailed down the face of some, and trees seemed planted on the tops of others.

    “All of these are high rises. More people live in apartments now than ever lived in houses. Especially since the third world-”

    “All of these are apartments? But, where are the business?” He interrupted, looking around. A nearby corner had as sign and as Max watched its lettering swam before his eyes, before it became legible.

    “Red River?” He asked.

    “Named after the country we’re in. After the second U.S. Civil War, and the Great Division the Dakota’s became one country, with Montana and Wyoming.

    Max blinked in surprise.

    “Second civil war?” He muttered.

    He supposed that America’s revolution had been more turbulent than it’d appeared to him in 1781, if they’d had two civil wars already.

    “We’re at the transport station, I can’t explain now. Here, where’s Richard? Richard? Good. Follow me.” Rain pushed open more of the glass doors and started down a staircase to some kind of underground tunnel. It seemed to be lit with multi colored lights that morphed from yellow, to green, to blue, and back again. Rain’s silhouette was swallowed quickly as she descended.

    Richard and Leonardo glanced at each other. Max sighed quietly before starting after her.

    “Where else can we go?” He asked quietly. After a moment, he heard them step down after him.

    Rain waited at the bottom, and pushed them over to line of people who were facing towards a large oval platform. As Maximilien watched, a family stepped onto the platform, and the operator pushed a button on the glass screen. In a whoosh of light, the family disappeared.

    “Pretty awesome, right?” Rain asked smugly and then turned around to face the three men.

    Leonardo, who had Richard’s shoulders in an iron grasp, forcibly held him in place, while Max watched with a horrified gaze.

    “They’re gone,” he muttered hoarsely. Rain rolled her eyes, and grabbed him firmly by the elbow.

    “It just breaks down molecules and puts them back together at another location. Don’t be a child.” The line moved forward and Max’s heartbeat doubled.

    “I don’t think I want my molecules broken down.”

    “It’ll be fine.” Leonardo whispered quietly, even as his eyes darted to the front of the line nervously.

    “Well it’s this or I make you get in one of the flying machines.” Rain squeezed Max’s elbow. The line lurched forward again. He watched a couple disappear in a flash of light. Richard was now actively struggling in Leonardo’s grasp.

    “I will go nowhere in that-” he was cut off when, with an exasperated sigh, Rain turned around and slapped him. Several people turned around to stare.

    Rain grabbed the back of Richard’s neck. The ex-king, seemed to be stunned by the blow and stared wide-eyed into her face.

    “You. Have. No. Choice.” She punctuated each word with a small shake.

    “Ma’am?” All four of them jumped when a woman spoke up from in front. They were next in line. “Is everything…alright?”

    Rain smiled. “Yes, sorry. Doctor Rainbow Miller, I work for the Federation. My address should already be in the system.” With an arm around Maximilien and another around Richard, she stepped up onto the platform with Leonardo.

    The operator, a pretty dark-skinned woman wearing a blue jumpsuit frowned. “I need to scan their IDs as well, Doctor.”

    Rain turned her sharp gaze on her. She smiled, and Max saw the operator shrink back.

    “I think you’ll find I have a pass for guests under my account.” She pushed back her long dark braid and offered the back of her neck. Max heard a beep and the operator bit her lip after looking at the screen. When she didn’t move, Rain frowned.

    “Do I need to speak to a supervisor?” Her tone seemed mild but the operator quickly shook her head.

    “No ma’am. You’re fine. I’ll transport you straight away.”

    “You do that,” Rain muttered dryly, before standing in the center of the platform, still gripping Richard and Maximilien tightly. Max shut his eyes, anticipating something like the feeling of having his face torn apart by another bullet.

    There was a bright flash of light and a small shiver seemed to run from the top of his scalp to the bottom of his feet. He tried to open his eyes and found he couldn’t. He couldn’t move at all. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing anymore, or that his heart was beating. Everything was quiet, still, and very bright.

    When the light finally died away, Max blinked and looked around, before his jaw dropped open. Gone was the underground tunnel where they had been standing, now they were outside, standing in the street, looking a large house. Richard was patting himself down. Looking around, eyes wide. Leonardo let out a quiet breath and grinned, clapping Max on the shoulder.

    “See, was that so hard?” Rain scoffed and limped ahead of them. “Honestly, such a trouble. Here I was think I’d picked more enlightened men.”

    Richard was rubbing his face where she’d slapped him and scowling fiercely after her. While Max didn’t like to think he would agree with Richard in any capacity, he found himself sympathetic.

    Rain’s condescension was quickly becoming grating.

    “And here we are.” Rainbow flung the door open, the lights automatically flickering on. Leonard, Max and Richard stepped in slowly. Rain limped ahead of them, whistling. “Come on, babies!”

    The sound of the paws slapping on the floor and barking announced the arrival of Rain’s dogs. Robespierre’s eyes widened. Richard braced himself against the wall. Leonardo took a step back. From around the corner a pack of eight dogs, all different breeds ran straight for the door, letting out bark and yips of excitement. Rain crouched down with her arms open, the dogs immediately slobbering on for her troubles.

    The largest of the dogs, a shaggy hound with stately lope sniffed at Richard, big yellow eyes on the former king.

    “That’s Ava. She is my big alpha girl, aren’t you sweetie? I made her. She’s a wolfhound and German Shepard mix,” Rain explained, smiling up at the three men.

    Rainbow picked up a piebald spotted grey short-legged dog with a long tail. “This is Norma, a welsh Corgi.” The dog wagged her tail, grinning. “And that’s Lester,” she pointed to a pointed German pointer. “The German Shepard is Ava’s half-brother, Berwald. That is Bobby, the Border collie, and Pallas, the poodle. Here is Jep, my King Charles’s Spaniel. And here’s Baby! She’s the baby of the pack.”

    “She looks like a ball of sheep wool with eyes.” Richard said curiously reaching out to touch the Pomeranian. Rain frowned pouting-ly, moving the puppy away. Leonardo took the fluffy dog instead.

    Max found himself trying to pet all of the dogs, seemingly at once. Pallas the poodle kept coming back for more and whined when he took his hands off her.

    “Here come on you guys. I can make food.”

    With that, Rain started back down the hallway. The men and the dogs followed them. Richard felt a tug on the hem of his sleeve, and saw that the hound, Ava, had latched onto him, white teeth glinting.

    “It seems you have a friend Richard.” Leonardo said cheerfully still carrying the fluff ball. Richard frowned. “Get.” Ava tugged harder, her tail starting to wag playfully. Behind him, Max snorted.

    “Smart dog.”

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Five: Treason! Treason! Treason! Part Two.

    July 20th, 2017

    PART TWO.

    Maximilien had returned to the storage room, temper still running high.

    He paced back and forth for a moment, hands tightly clenched behind his back. He clenched his jaw, eyes set on the cluttered floor in front of him.

    Even over a thousand years in the future, and Max couldn’t escape the same infuriating entitlement of the bourgeois.

    Or the disgusting rumors that had followed him since Brissot had accused him of aspirations of dictatorship in 1792. His lip curled. He should have known that Girondins’ calumny would follow him, sticking to Maximilien like a stubborn burr.

    Abruptly Max was overcome with fatigue and he sat down heavily, body bowing under the weight of the past 48 hours.

    He hadn’t dared to look up the Revolution, or his family on the database that Leonardo had shown him. Terror of the deepest sort gripped him every time he thought of it. He was desperate to know what had become of Charlotte, but the terrible thought that she’d died as well stopped him. Max didn’t want to think of his only surviving sibling, alone and frightened, all of her fire doused in the face of his enemies. He did not want to consider what had happened to the Duplays, if Eléonore or Babet had…had…

    Maximilien shuddered. He didn’t dare think it.

    A soft knock jolted him from his morbid thoughts. Rain stuck her head around the door.

    “Don’t sulk in here all day, Robespierre. It’s looking like we are going to have to move this tete-a-tete back to my house, and I’ll need to give you a wardrobe update. Come back to the kitchen soon,” she said cheerily and then let the door slam behind her.

    Max frowned.

    And Rain…

    How did she factor into this? She didn’t seem like she held a grudge against him, as she’d implied so many people did. So why did she bring him back? He was not like Leonardo, a man who been brushed with the hand of Grace itself.

    He was not a king either.

    He was only Robespierre.

    A chill went across the back of his neck and Maximilien reached up to rub a finger over the guillotine scar. He shivered and stood up.

    The hallways were darkened and empty. Rain had already vanished and Max supposed that Leonardo and Richard were still in the kitchen.

    It was silent as he approached the doorway, and he slowed to a stop before he entered.

    Leonardo was leaning back in his chair, hand moving restlessly over the paper. With a blush, Maximilien realized it should have occurred to him sooner that this Leonardo was the Leonardo, who died in the arms of the King of France.

    Richard, meanwhile, was still eating with the hunger of a man who’d been very active and hadn’t had food in a while. In a sudden flash, it seemed Max was back at the Duplays, after Phillipe Le Bas and Antoine Saint-Just returned from the army, putting away food like any other young person, talking to the Duplay’s daughters, one of whom would eventually be Le Bas’s wife. Max shivered and shook the image away.

    He looked up when Max entered, eyes narrowed and mouth full of bacon.

    Revolutionary and sovereign stared at each other frostily.

    “I agree, I like this future as well, where a man is free to have a variety of opinions, and it is not impressed upon him by another.” Leonardo spoke conversationally, without looking away from his drawing.

    “What?” Richard barked at the artist.

    Leonardo looked up, a bushy eyebrow raised.

    “I thought that’s what was being debated.”

    Max managed a thin smile but Richard scowled.

    “Are you saying that you agree with this,” he gestured to Maximilien, “revolutionary? This usurper?”

    Leonardo held out a hand, palm out.

    “I said nothing of the sort.” The Italian’s voice had gone hard. “I said that I was pleased to be in a future that will not force me to agree with either of you.”

    Maximilien raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t impress my will-“

    “You might think you wouldn’t, but by trying to turn my to a side, you have,” Leonardo cut across his words quickly. Richard smirked at Maximilien.

    Rain returned before it could become another argument over the rights of people or the divine rights of Kings.

    “Ah good, you’re back. I need to explain a few things before we leave for my house.”

    She propped herself against the counter, fingers beating a rapid beat on her cane. Her brown eyes roved over each of them, her face inscrutable.

    “I brought the three of you back to life, to the year three thousand.”

    Promptly, Richard butted in. “Yes, why would you do that again?”

    Rain stared at him blankly. “For science.”

    At this Leonardo nodded his head in understanding, while Richard rubbed his temple, jaw set.

    “Of course,” he growled. “Why didn’t I assume that?”

    Rain waved his complaints away with an airy hand. “Well you weren’t doing anything for anyone dead. So here you are. Anyway, it now appears that we need to move this operation back to my domestic residence. And to do this I’m going to need to take you out into public.”

    Her gaze suddenly sharpened.

    “We’ll need to change your clothes, you can’t go wearing pajamas. I suppose your hair isn’t so out of fashion.” She frowned considering. “That can always be changed later, anyway.”

    Maximilien reached up to finger his hair self-consciously.

    Rain stamped her cane on the ground decisively and smiled at all of them. “That’s decided then. I’ll replicate your clothes and then explain the transporters after.” She smiled at all of them. “This’ll be easy, right boys?”

    Maximilien glanced at Richard who was staring at Rain like she’d come straight from Charenton, to Leonardo who was smiling benignly at her.

    “Okay, I’ll grab the clothes, stay here.”

    She said the last part through her grit teeth, before limping her way out of the room.

    Richard seemed to wait just long enough for the sound of her footsteps to fade before he was out of his seat, pacing like a caged bear, head set low between his shoulders and grinding his teeth.

    “I’m going nowhere with that woman.”

    Maximilien let out a polite cough.

    Really.

    Richard swung his head around to stare at him.

    “Yes?” He snarled, his meaty breath invading Maximilien’s senses.

    “You don’t really think you ‘ave a choice here, do you? It’s obvious that she has us captive here,” he pointed out.

    “She’s one women. Between the three of us, we can overpower her and leave.” Richard said, as if Max was thick. He bristled at the tone out of principle.

    Leonardo interjected.

    “I will have no part in overpowering a helpless, lame woman. I’d rather go with her and try my luck leaving her at a later date. Usually if you go along with a person they more likely to be agreeable later.” He sat back and crossed his arms, as if to challenge either of them to try and move him by force. Both of them looked to Max.

    “And you, Robespierre?” Richard asked, lip curling over his name just slightly, as if the taste in his mouth disgusted him.

    Maximilien turned his back on the two for a moment, clenching and unclenching his hands.

    On the one hand, even though Max was loath to admit it, his instincts went with Richard. Rain hadn’t given them any explanation as to why they should trust her, or even why she’d brought them back, taking their gratitude and therefore their loyalty as a given and it rankled Maximilien badly.

    Loyalty is never a given, he thought to himself.

    However, Leonardo was also right: Rain hadn’t done anything yet, other than bring them back to life. If this was a good or bad thing, Max had yet to decide. She was also unarmed, and he couldn’t quite justify what they would have to do to a lone woman to escape. Leonardo also appealed to a base level of Max’s philosophies: independent artisans. He’d take that any day over a former king of England.

    He chewed his lip then decided, turning around to face them again.

    “I agree with Leonardo, Doctor Miller hasn’t shown herself to be a threat yet, and it’s be monstrous to attack an unarmed woman.

    Leonardo smiled thinly at him, but Richard threw a hand up in exasperation.

    “It’s obvious that she means no good, kidnapping us like this. We haven’t seen another person since we got here. And she’s clearly mad,” Richard snorted. “For science, saint’s blood.”

    Leonardo frowned at him. “Science is a noble pursuit. It explains how the world works.”

    “It could explain why the sky is blue, I care not. I’m leaving,” Richard declared.

    Maximilien moved to block him. Richard was taller than he was, and probably much stronger, but his stubborn nature won out.

    “You’ll go nowhere, not until we find out more. I won’t let have Miller distrusting all of us, simply because you can’t accept another’s will,” he said, meeting Richard’s hard grey-eyed stare.

    “I will move you by force if I have to.” The ex-king said softly. Out of the corner of his eye, Maximilien saw Leonardo tense in his chair, looking ready to separate them by force.

    However all three turned when the sound of Rain’s cane came tapping out of the hallway.

    “All right, here we go,” she announced grandly when she entered. She looked around at all three of them, from Leonardo gripping his chair, white knuckled to Max’s and Richard’s posturing.

    “Am I interrupting something?”

     

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Four: Terror and Virtue. Part Two.

    July 11th, 2017

    PART TWO.

    Rain was flustered. After Leonardo’s easy awakening, she hadn’t expected Robespierre to freak out like he did. She also hadn’t expected the scar that marred his face, it looked ugly and like it hurt quite a bit receiving it. She’d forgotten that he’d been shot before he died. Rain wondered if there was a way to program it so they didn’t come back with scars.

    She replicated clothing and helped Robespierre up to dress. He was short, with a nearly delicate frame. He kept squinting in light.

    “I’ll test your eyes for your prescription next, don’t worry,” Rain assured him. Robespierre nodded, still quiet.

    After she’d run scans on both eyes, and found he was almost blind in the light she replicated the glasses, tinted slightly.

    “You aren’t wearing glasses in any of your portraits, or else I’d know ahead of time.” She said.

    “I only sat for two,” he muttered, looking down at his hands and frowning.

    It was then Rain noticed it. Alongside his bullet scar, there was one other Robespierre had.

    On his neck there was a pale raised line that continued all the way around, like a grisly necklace. She stared at it for a long moment.

    “Would you mind staying down here for a moment? There’s another person here, and I just want to warn him,” she asked. Robespierre looked up, and nodded slowly.

    “Oui, I’ll stay.”

    Rain kept her eyes on him as she walked towards the door. Robespierre was still staring at his hands as if he hadn’t ever seen them before.

    Upstairs, Leonardo was exactly where she’d left him. It took several times of calling his name before Leonardo looked up.

    “Ah, hello. All done?” He asked casually. Rain smiled. This was a man she could communicate with.

    “Yes, he’s downstairs right now. I’m going to bring him up in just a moment but I thought I would just warn you he’s,” here, Rain hesitated. “He’s a little bit shaken, I don’t think his death was a peaceful as yours.”

    Leonardo nodded. “Was he a solider?”

    Rain shook her head. “Lawyer.”

    “Ah.”

    XXX

    Maximilien sat on the metal table, with his head in his hands. His fingers had brushed a rough patch of skin next to his mouth, and he cringed, mind shying away from what it could possibly be.

    He’d died.

    He had failed.

    Max hardly wanted to think of what his death had wrought in France. Was there even still a France? Had England, Prussia and Spain carved up, put the chains back on the people, back into their miserable state?

    His head hurt and tears burned just behind his eyes. He held his emotions back with self-taught stoicism that that’d been his companion since his mother’s death.

    There was a soft swooshing noise, and when he looked up, Doctor Miller was walking back into the room.

    “Hey, you can come with me now, okay? We’ll get you food, and I think I have another cot somewhere where you can rest.” She spoke softly, as if Maxime was a frightened child who she needed to comfort. Max frowned slightly.

    Charlotte, Madame Duplay, and now Doctor Miller. Did every women he met feel the need to take care of him?

    Regardless, Max nodded. “Oui, thank you very much.”

    Miller smiled at him. “Alright. You can also meet your fellow resurrected historical figure.”

    XXX

    Leonardo was still in the kitchen, starting to wish for a window to see out of when Rain started coming back up, talking to someone out of sight.

    “I’ll get you something to eat, if you want.”

    She walked into the room with a shorter man in tow. He was blinking in the harsh, and Leonardo had recently discovered, electric light. (How curious! The same element that left trees split and fields on fire could now also be used to light people’s homes. He supposed this was a natural evolution, after all humans had been using a tamed fire for light and warmth for centuries now.)

    Rain was still chattering away as she used the replicator to order a croissant and coffee, which she placed in front of the man who had done a sort of graceful collapse into the chair next to Leonardo. The two men blinked at each other for a moment.

    “Here, eat, I’ll be right back.” She ordered. Rain darted out of the room, then poked her head back around.

    “I’m sorry that was rude. Leonardo, meet Maximilien Robespierre. He’s from about 200 years after you.”

    She left again, leaving a gaping silence.

    Leonardo carefully marked his place in his notebook, and let it close and took a closer study of the man who was absent mindedly shredding and nibbling the tiny loaf of bread Rain had placed in front of him.

    His face was heart shaped, with a small pointed chin and high cheekbones. There was a coin sized scar about an inch from his mouth. It splinted and looked like a star burst. It was very out of place on such a soft and gentle looking face. His rather frizzy coppery-brown hair hung around in a morose sort of way around his face, the same way it would on the face of a badly groomed tom cat.

    His eyes were a sort of grey-green, a rare color to find, and easily the most notable feature. It was these eyes Leonardo was staring into.

    It occurred to him that maybe he should have researched his new companion before Rain had unceremoniously brought him back.

    Leonardo did an awkward half bow from where he was still seated and with a concentrated effort, said “Bonjour, monsieur Robespierre.”

    The man still stared at him quietly and head tilted ever so slightly to the right.
    “I- Buon giorno, signore.” His accent was odd, not bad but clearly foreign. Regardless Leonardo beamed widely.

    “Ah, you speak Italian sir?”

    Robespierre shook his head. “I was, before I-” His voice stopped and he dropped his face back to his plate.

    “Before you died?” Leonardo finished for him, softly. He wondered how old the other man had been when he died. He didn’t look any older than Leonardo, but Rain had explained that she’d set his body to be a younger version than the one he had died in. So thirty? Forty? Fifty? Who could know, until it was confided in him?

    Robespierre had covered his eyes with a hand, looking distraught. Leonardo reached out and slowly put a hand on his shoulder. The other man pulled away slightly, nearly flinching.

    Leonardo touched all of his friends and if he was going to be stuck with this man for Dio knew how long he was going to make friends. He placed his hand back on Robespierre’s shoulder. The Frenchmen looked startled, gaze going from the hand to Leonardo’s face.
    “I know,” he murmured right before Rain returned to the room.

    “I’m glad you guys are already making friends,” she said cheerfully.

    Robespierre nodded, still looking wary of Leonardo.

    “Yes, thank you citizen-ness.”

    “Citzen-ness?” Leonardo asked, bemused.

    “I think it was a French revolution thing.” Rain whispered. Leonardo also looked interested.

    A what thing?

    “Has the form of address changed in France?’ He asked the other man. Robespierre gave a proper little nod.

    “Yes. Or at least,” the gloomy look came back over his face. “It was supposed to. I do not know if it would have been kept after the Committee of Public Safety fell.”

    Leonardo tilted his head.

    “The what?”

    XXX

    As Leonardo and Robespierre discussed politics that had been dead for over a thousand years, Rain quietly moved away to one of the wall mounted screens, and pulled up the video feed for outside the building. Usually she did not bother to leave it on, but after Kam stormed away last night she thought it best, just in case Kamala thought to try and bring law enforcement back to her lab. There were no thugs outside, however sitting on the doorstep was a plain brown package.

    Rain frowned.

    XXX

    Leonardo volunteered to give up the bunk in the spare room to Max.

    “I don’t sleep very much, especially when my mind is as full as it is right now, but you probably should.” The inventor advised, once again gently touching Robespierre gently on the arm. He was extremely dubious of how much sleep he would be getting but vowed to attempt anyway, mostly to assuage his new companion.

    He had a most unpleasant shock when going to use bathroom to wash his face for the night, and be quietly amazed by the running water, in hot and cold, and he looked into the mirror.

    Max narrowly avoided shouting in alarm. For one sick moment he’d seen Danton’s face, broad, nose crushed into his face and scarred, before he realized that Danton had never worn green tinted glasses.

    Max, breathing heavily, leaned forward to stare at the strange reflection.

    It was him but very different from how he remembered his reflection the morning of July 9th 1794 when he had left his bedroom in the Duplays.

    His cheek was knotted mess of scarring. The bullet had torn the thin flesh as it passed through and dented it, the caved in flesh a lighter color than his already pale skin. Several tendrils seemed to come off from the center, towards his lips, his eyes his chin, making it look vaguely star like. On the right side where the bullet had exited, several teeth towards the back were missing and there was another small scar pointing to where it had left his skin.

    Maxime had never been vain, at least not about his appearances. Augustin had always been the one who followed fashions and chased women, not him. True, he’d been fastidious, but after a childhood of wearing clothing until they were filled with holes, Max had taken a special pleasure in dressing well. Respectability was valuable to a lawyer. However the change to his face was dramatic and shocking. His fingers trembled when Max touched the scar gingerly. For one moment he imagined he could still taste the iron of blood and mineral from his shattered teeth in his mouth. Max shuddered and his eyes twitched at the memory.

    But perhaps the most damning was the small scar around his neck. Max traced it with his hand, feeling the slightly raised flesh go all around his throat.

    Here it was: incontestable proof that Maximilien Robespierre had died on the guillotine blade.

    He shook slightly through washing his face and cleaning his teeth.

    There is nothing to do but go to the small cot that Leonardo had volunteered to him, curl up and not sleep.

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Four: Terror and Virtue. Part One.

    July 6th, 2017

    EPISODE FOUR: Terror and Virtue.

    PART ONE.

    Paris 1794

    It is a bright hot day in Thermidor. Regardless Maximilien finds that all the colors have become muted and blur together. He isn’t sure if it’s from the unceasing pain in his jaw, the blood loss or the fact his glasses have been long since lost. As the cart rumbles down the street and the screams around him increase, Max closes his eyes.

    He keeps the closed even as rotten fruit, small stones and insults are hurled at him, many missing their mark, but a few hit.

    A moldy orange ads to the stains all over his once fine undershirt, a rock glances off his shoulder and people scream tyrant at him.

    Tyrant?

    If he had been none of this would be happening. It seems like a logical fallacy, to call Max a tyrant, when he has selfless served the people, lived and breathed and bled for them. He’d promised his youth and happiness for them.  

    And now he will die for them as well.

    Next to Saint-Just is utterly silent, even as the people jeer at him as well.

    “Angel of death! The Angel of Death and his master!”

    In the carts a head of them, Bonbon, dear brother Augustin, and Couthon both lay in the baking sun. At least they will not see the people’s faces, the sneering derision in their eyes.

    The cart suddenly stops, but Max does not open his eyes. They are not at the Palace de la Revolution.

    He can smell the sawdust, the summer lilacs. A dog barks somewhere and distantly Max wonders if Brount is safe? Is Charlotte? Will some kindly citizen keep them?

    Max hopes so, since he has failed to.

    When their father left, he’d promised his siblings he’d protect them.

    He’d gone to Louis le Grand and Henriette had died in her bed.

    He’d gone to Versailles and Paris to try and secure a better life for people like them, people without a family, and now he’s killed his brother.

    Maximilien can only hope that his sister survives them. Charlotte deserves better. She’d always wanted was best for him.

    He hopes the Duplays are keeping the windows shuddered, as they did for Louis Capet and Danton and Camille. He would not want them to see him, they were a good family of kind patriots who have done much for Max since has moved to Paris.

    Has it only been five years? It seems like a whole lifetime ago.

    He refuses to open his eyes to look, he does not want to know. He doesn’t want to see if Babet, whose son now doesn’t have a father, or Eleanor is looking at them.

    Max wants to hide his face, but stubbornly keeps his chin up, refusing to accept the title that the people of Paris want to shove onto him. He won’t go to the guillotine with his head hung, like he can be shamed into being a ‘tyrant’.

    That is not who Maximilien Robespierre is.    

    The cart rattles to life again and on they march.

    Maximilien knows he only has about thirty minutes left to live.

    He mourns for Saint-Just, because Max knows that he will never mourn for himself. Antoine will stand tall and just right until the moment they force his head into the stock before it is removed.     

    The Cart stops again. Max opens his eyes to the blur of muted colors. Time passes in dollops now. One by one his good and noble associates are forced off and walked up the steps to meet the madame.

    First Augustin, who Max can hear moan and cry softly, his legs been shattered by the jump out of the window. Couthon screams as they force his body to the plank to tie him down.

    Next to him Antoine straightens up when they grab him and force him off the cart. He looks up at Maximilien.

    Saint-Just stares at him for a moment and it breaks something inside, so see how young, his friend really is, barely 26 years old, and has already done so much for the Republic and now will die at the blade. Max imagines there is something in Anotine’s eyes, some glimmer than he is desperately trying to communicate to him before the guards forcibly march him away but what it is slips away from Max, and he leans forward to gently brush his nose along his friend’s forehead for a last moment of friendly contact.

    “Adieu, mon ami.” Saint-Just says, as if he is simply leaving the Committee for the night and not forever, and Max cannot see as they walk him away. There is silence, and then ‘thunk’ and screams from the crowd.

    Then they come for Maximilien. He does not struggle as they pull him down from the cart. The world has gone strangely quiet around him, even though Max can see people’s mouths still moving, lazily like a dying fish’s. Through his blurred vision he can see the sunlight glint off the Guillotine. He is nearly dragged up the stairs, so eager are they for his blood. He stumbles slightly, his head spinning. With his nearly blind eyes, Maxime looks around at the people who have crowded around the guillotine. There are women knitting in the front row. Children are on their parents shoulders. People throw flowers and fruit.

    This was what he wanted the Celebration of the Supreme Being to be like, Max thinks, a last flicker of irony going through his brain.  

    He is shoved against the plank of woods, bounds quickly wrapped around him. He stares around blankly, and something like fire races up his spine when he thinks that Danton must have been strapped to this same plank before he died. And Camille, and Lucile. Louis Capet. Marie Antoinette.

    Maximilien Robespierre. His jaw throbs as the muscles twitch.

    Suddenly a pair of hands is grabbing at his face and ripping his bandages away.

    He can’t prevent the scream that tears itself from his throat. It has been building there since he was young and has been too long contained, he thinks madly, his own screaming deafening as the plank is lowered and slid forward. This scream is what is under all his tightly contained convictions, all his primness, and virtue. This is what he is reduced to, a screaming voiceless animal, who is going to die in pain, alone.

    Maximilien dies screaming.  

    XXX

    In the year three thousand.

    Max flinched awake, immediately choking. His body automatically curls up to defend itself, every never alive and screaming to help him avoid death.

    “Whoa! You’re okay! It’s fine, you’re okay!” Someone says to him and he moves away from the kindly hand placed on his shoulder.

    Max gasps in air, even as he feels his throat constrict, and panics even more.

    He doesn’t want to die.

    If he can’t breathe, if he can’t breathe, he can’t speak and if he can’t speak he won’t be able to defend himself.

    The blood of Danton chokes him!

    “Relax, relax, your heart is going crazy right now, you need to calm down before you put yourself into cardiac arrest.” The words mean nothing to him, but the warm hand on his shoulder gives Max something to focus on. He is forced to sit up, his eyes struggling to focus on something, anything. He still has no glasses and the room is blindingly bright.

    “Whoa, you’re face…” The voice, it sounds like a woman, mutters. “It’s okay, it’s okay, just breathe okay? Um, with me. In,” She presses on Maximilien’s chest and he takes a shallow breath in, feeling it end in dry sob. “And out.’

    She forced him to keep breathing, patting his shoulder.

    “I’m grabbing you some medicine, I’ll be right back okay? Just-just keep breathing.”

    Max’s chest was caving on itself and he gasped, laying back down on the cold metal table he found himself on.

    “Here, here, it’s okay. “ Something cold was pressed to his neck and within moments Maximilien was gasping in cold air, his lungs inflating again.

    “There. Better? Huh, I didn’t know that you were asthmatic.”

    Max squinted up at the woman, trying to bring her into focus. Her dark hair was free flowing and hung around her face like fabric.

    “W-where am I? Who are you?”

    “Stay calm. You’re on North America, in a city called Grand Forks. My name is Doctor Rainbow Miller.”

    Max stared at her as best he could, his head spinning. He tightly gripped the edges of the table he was laying on and the cold seeped into his bare skin.

    “H-how am I alive?” The words he meant to thank were of thanks, but they got lost and morphed on the way out.

    She touched his shoulder again. The doctor sounded proud when she announced,

    “I brought you back.”

    Back?

    Back, from death?

    Max laid back down and closed his eyes, a headache getting ready to bloom behind them.

    She patted his shoulder and he wanted to jerk away. The lights were blinding him and he was too cold.

    “You’re going to be okay, Robespierre.”

    Bring back another dead person already!

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