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On the run
As the day wore on, the twins covered ground rapidly. They wove through old buildings and abandoned roads, in concrete jungles and around abandoned military stations, stopping only to grab a drink and rest their legs. At North’s insistence, they moved stealthily and covered their trail. Anything to delay their pursuer.
“Did you see that?” North mumbled into his helmet microphone. He stood with his back pressed against the edge of a building: cover.
A few yards away, Agent South snapped the ammo back into her gun. “You’re the one on watch,” she replied, but she stood and scanned the area restlessly.
The area remained still for another minute; satisfied, North paced back to his sister. Their mysterious aggressor had been tailing the twins for several days now. That morning, North had his first taste of combat against the enemy, and he didn’t relish the thought of repeating it. “Let’s head out,” he suggested.
His sister shook her head as she gazed around the mounds of old containers stored at this particular outpost. “No,” South said, “Let’s take a stand here.” North turned to look at his sister, then surveyed the storage facility around them. Cover could be found everywhere, but deeper in the rows of containers, there wasn’t room to maneuver. Voice tense, she added, “We won’t win by outrunning him.”
Nodding slowly, North pulled the sniper rifle out and scrutinized the hanging pathways above the rows of boxes. “You get on high ground and snipe him,” North instructed, holding the gun out.
“Me?”
North tapped his helmet. “If he’s after Theta, he’ll be looking for me.” Although the topic of why never came up during the spar that morning, North and Theta had all but eliminated any other motivations. If South had a better theory, she didn’t offer it.
As South took the rifle, North’s mental companion lit up on his shoulder. “Are we going to fight?” Theta asked. Seeing North’s nod, the AI continued, “Will we be okay?”
North couldn’t lie, but he gave Theta a reassuring grin. “South’s got our back from above – this guy’ll be walking into a trap.”
South grunted and started moving into position. As North watched her go, Theta confirmed internally, You don’t want to put South in his way? The AI could feel his motivations – could share in them, too. North would protect the people he cared about, Theta included.
Taking a steadying breath, North paced towards a group of containers. As he was sliding into cover, North caught a flash of white armor reaching the entrance. “He’s here! And he won’t show up on your trackers.”
He heard South grumble on the other end, then, “I didn’t set them anyway. I’ll be in position in a minute.”
North leaned out and steadied his gun on the container. If his sister wasn’t ready yet, he’d have to run a distraction. The first bullets of the fight rang out, and the enemy edged to the side. Recognizing the brute shot a moment before it was fired, North ducked back into cover as an explosion blasted into a nearby container. These won’t hold, Theta cautioned; the second shot hurtled the container above North a few yards away, and he took the moment to roll to safer cover.
“How ya doing, South?” He asked, the first strain of tension creeping into his voice.
North returned fire while his sister insisted, “I’m in position, waiting for a clear shot.” As if sensing the danger, their assailant hugged the rows of boxes as he advanced. Another explosion blew debris and smoke across North, and he moved aside before a second could hit him.
When he stepped out again, the enemy was charging at him. North rolled and scored a solid bullet in his chest, but the man didn’t even flinch. This time, the explosion caught North as he stopped, no cover – he was blown back into a row of boxes, deeper in the facility.
North! Staggering to his feet, North backed into the row as Theta suggested, He’ll have a harder time shooting explosions in a narrow corridor. When the enemy appeared at the row’s mouth, a few rounds from North made him duck behind the containers.
“North!” South shouted into the radio, “I lost my shot!” Another shot exploded near North’s leg, and he winced as debris cut into his armor. “Get out of there!”
“You’re telling me,” North muttered as he dodged into the alley and down another row. An explosion behind him told North the way back was occupied, so he worked his way deeper, planning to come out the other side.
He ran into a solid wall of containers. Dead end – we’re trapped! Theta’s alarm accelerated North’s pounding heart. Breathless, he told his sister, “You need to get down here. Now!”
“I can’t reach you in time, North!”
As he spun around, his adversary stepped into view. “South, I need you!”
Then her voice dropped, hardened. “I can’t.”
The radio clicked as she shut it off. “South?”
North! The enemy stepped forward, and North steeled himself for the final fight. Mercifully, it was over soon.
His final moments
When the Dakota twins were young, North did his best to instill a moral conscience in his impressionable sister. North acted as the grounded reason for them both, the older sibling with advice and support. Sometimes South lashed out, insisting she would find her own way through trial and error, but other times she gratefully used their divided personalities to prove their divided identities.
Never were their identities more difficult to separate than on their shared birthday. The same birthday, the same cake, the same outfit, and often the same presents – South always threw tantrums at the smallest provocation for the week before their celebrations. “The only good part,” she told him on their fourteenth birthday, “Is all the partying.” With a birthday on Independence Day, there was never a shortage of festivities.
For most of their childhood, the twins shared the same set of friends, so they wound up spending their birthdays together. North vividly recalled the memory
(life flashing before his eyes)
of their eighth birthday, a clear July evening that prompted the children to start a game of ghost in the graveyard. Despite his typical rationality, North loved the suspense of the hunt and thrill of evading the ghost. As the hours passed, North lost track of how many rounds had been played, but he had only been caught once.
He bumped into his sister late in the night, late in a round where the ghost must have been well concealed. Her eyes scanned the darkness restlessly, and she jumped when he touched her on the shoulder. “He must’ve buried himself in a ditch,” North chuckled, quiet enough so his voice wouldn’t carry.
His sister gazed at him for a moment, then tipped her head. “I just came up the side of the house, nothing there,” she remarked.
He nodded. “The neighbor’s yard seems clean.” The twins held each other’s gaze for a moment, aware that collaborating was frowned upon if not cheating, but too familiar with teamwork to stop now. “I bet he’s in back,” North proposed, “I’ll go around the side.”
“I’ll go through the neighbor’s yard,” his sister replied.
As the pair parted ways, North turned to give her a quick, “Happy birthday, Sis.” She waved in response.
The night was dark, and North had trouble recalling the visual details from the memory
(memory fading, dying)
of a time already filled with more shadows than sights, but he could still feel the adrenaline exciting his young mind. Distant fireworks for the holiday punctuated the suspense with noise and a flash of visual details. Reds, violets, and blues lit up the scattering of boulders and bushes along the side of his house.
North bounced through the side yard carelessly, lured out of caution by his sister’s tip-off. He would have been pounced on unaware if a burst of fireworks hadn’t danced over the figure crouching among the foliage. North stopped, startled, then shouted “Ghost in the graveyard!” as he spun around and sprinted along the side of the house, making for the base on the front porch.
Footsteps pounded after North
(footsteps on the concrete)
from the well-prepared ghost, but North gave him a chase despite his disadvantage. As the hand of his friend slapped against his shoulder, North caught sight of his sister leaping onto the base. Caught, he slowed and gave the ghost a grin. “Good spot,” he complimented, cheerful from the outside but mentally debating his sister’s poor advice. When he looked at base again, she was exchanging a high five with another guest.
The memory skipped; North remembered cornering her late that night, after their friends had gone home and the fireworks had faded to an occasional flare. “What was that?” he asked, “I thought you said the side yard was clear?”
Her face hardened at his accusation. “I didn’t see him,” she lied. When North pursed his lips, she added defensively, “Besides, you’d only been ghost once all night. I was caught three times already.”
“That doesn’t matter,” he protested, injured by her callous manipulation. “Sis, you can’t lead people around like that.”
“Come on, it’s just a game,” she protested.
Having spent the last hour wondering if his sister had intentionally led him into the ghost, it stung to have her write off the betrayal of trust as if it were a game. “Ghost in the graveyard is just a game,” North agreed, “But people aren’t. You led me into a trap, Sis. It’s my birthday, too… you have to think about other people.”
Her pale eyes were intense, rebellious, and North recognized the same resentment from the times he scored better on tests or bested her in sports. “If you had been faster than him, you would’ve gotten away,
(“North?”)
North,” she returned.
The memory blurred; South was older, and now they had new names, but their relationship was
(strained by command)
the same, and North loved South’s stubborn spirit despite all the trouble
(in trouble, breathless worry, “North?”)
he dug them out of.
As the memories drifted by, North was vaguely aware of reality, of South’s presence and his inability to move. The warmth now surrounding his body instead of contained within. And his twin’s voice far away, “It was either
(“I can’t.”)
you or both of us.”
Then a pressure on his eyelids, her fingers closing his pale eyes. Her voice, closer, “I’m sorry, North.” The sound of her footsteps as she left him. Finally, North’s mind let its hold on reality slip into nothing.
When North was roused again, he was out of memories and out of shock, and the sharp claws of pain made denial difficult. Muffled sounds and sensations wormed into his consciousness, but it was the jostling of his body and subsequent firecracker-burst of pain that brought him back to reality. He cringed and inhaled sharply, and North heard an incredulous, “He’s alive!”
When he cracked his eyes open, sunlight overwhelmed his vision; sometime in the fray, his helmet must have fallen off. “North, can you hear me?” He tried to lift his arm to shield his eyes, but his limb only twitched weakly by his side. The voice sounded clearer, recognizable: “Delta, instruction: run a full injury diagnostic.”
“I am unable to assess his mental state without full integration,” a mechanical voice replied, “But Agent North has sustained serious injury to his head, torso, and left hip. He has lost nearly a liter of blood and is in class three shock. I recommend immediate medical evacuation.”
North’s head throbbed, and he drew in a ragged breath. Something felt fundamentally wrong, but his mind wouldn’t focus any better than his eyes. He could make out blurry shapes and a glowing green that he belatedly recognized as Delta.
The voices were more distinct, and North placed the second one: Agent Washington. “His equipment’s gone, too. This guy is definitely hunting Freelancers.”
Hunting Freelancers. North’s mind stumbled through the chase, the fight, the explosions. He and South had been on the run for days, until they stopped here to take a stand. South. North’s heart was pounding as he tried to separate his memories from what had actually happened.
His injuries were evidence enough that North had fought their pursuer. North had fought, and South hadn’t. The memories were getting clearer, but his thoughts felt hollow, and a pit of nausea hung in his gut from the combination of disbelief and blood loss. “South?” he choked, voice rough.
Wash paused and swept his gaze around the area. “I don’t see her,” he replied. “And I’m not getting a distress beacon. If he’d caught her already, we would know.” North grunted as Wash tightened an improvised bandage around his scalp.
“Agent Washington,” Delta chipped in, “Might I remind you our target has now incapacitated four Freelancer agents and acquired their armor enhancements. It might be wise to reevaluate your strategy of tracking him down.”
Then it hit him: Theta. The chasm in his thoughts was his Theta, gone. North hadn’t even been conscious for the AI’s final moments with him, but he felt the ghost of Theta’s fearful and tender farewell. Even the grief that rolled over North seemed shallow without Theta’s responding emotions.
The world swam in and out of North’s awareness. His rescuers exchanged words about the advantage, then he made out, “He must have left North alive to slow us down. We’re close now.”
A hand pressed against North’s shoulder. “I’ll radio for evac. Hang in there, North.”
The hospital stay
Cold, painful, and lonely. North had forgotten how the sterile halls of a hospital kept one caged inside. For the first few days, he could barely sit up. More oppressive than the aches and wounds were the memories: the parting words of his sister, the decision to fight, the help from Theta that he might never feel again. North might have spent his entire recovery in silence if a second Freelancer hadn’t arrived soon after.
Although North had watched them wheel Washington’s body into intensive care several days ago, he’d been too afraid to approach him. The hospital staff whispered about what happened, but North had to hear it himself.
When he stepped into Washington’s hospital room, he found the man stretched across the bed on his stomach. The nurse told him that Wash had taken two shots in the back, but North could only see the swath of gauze wrapped around his torso. He was unsettlingly still, as still as the last time North had visited his hospital bed after Epsilon’s breakdown.
His head was turned to the side, and when North paced around the foot of the bed, he could see his friend’s eyes were open. Quietly, he walked to the bed next to Wash and sat down next to the starched pillow. The motion caught Wash’s attention. When their eyes met, he looked grudging, haggard. “Hey, Wash,” North greeted.
“Glad to see you survived,” Wash returned.
North grinned. “Yeah, thanks to you.” A silence stretched between them as North fought for words. He knew, he already knew, but hearsay couldn’t satisfy the questions tearing North apart. “Hey, they wouldn’t exactly tell me. What happened out there?”
His answer began with a humorless chuckle, then, “I caught up to your sister. I gave her Delta to improve our chances in combat, but she thought I’d be more useful with two shots in my back – as bait.”
Me too. The thought burst into his head, unwanted, yet powerful enough to cause North to hang his head and rub a hand through his hair. Hearing the truth from Wash himself, North couldn’t contain the wave of bitter speculation. Did she cling to life so desperately that she couldn’t risk herself? Of all the challenges they faced, why was this the one her competitive drive ignored?
North’s firm belief in their teamwork, its decaying begun in his hospital bed a week ago, wavered in the face of South’s betrayals. Even when they were young, the twins always argued with each other while they fought and conquered the world. North read the love beneath her jabs and support; now, he wondered how much of that love he was merely projecting.
Their teamwork fell a far cry from harmonious, and ever since North had been given Theta, the relationship had taken a grave twist. He remembered the moment clearly, three or four days after receiving his AI, when South confronted him.
As he walked through the halls of the Mother of Invention, North worked through a broken mental chat with Theta. At the time, it felt strange to hear another mind echoing in his own.
“North!” His sister’s belligerent voice reverberated down the metal hall, and he turned to watch her storm up to him. Her temper had reached such a violent pitch that she unleashed her rage right there in the hallway, and North didn’t doubt that any bystanders would have fled.
“You knew,” she hissed, pushing her face into his personal space. North raised his hands as he started to mollify her, but South continued viciously, “You knew they were planning to give Theta to whichever of us had the highest score after the last mission.”
“Calm down,” North urged, “It’s not like that.” Another mind chimed in his head, But you did know. Why - you wanted to protect her? North recalled overhearing the information slip casually out in a private conversation, a gem of information in an organization that kept its future under lock and key.
Indifferent to his defense, South threw a wave of rage at him. “You knew, so you cut me out of the mission. I could’ve joined you on the last leg – you intentionally sabotaged my chances. I would’ve beaten your score!”
“You can’t know if one little thing would make the difference.”
“Dammit, North!” Frustrated by his even tone, she accused, “You didn’t even want an AI, you just didn’t want me to get it.”
A prickle of unease wormed into North’s mind; his sister hit too close to home, and North immediately worried that Theta might feel the truth. I already knew, Theta admitted, and North thought again how alien it felt to share thoughts.
“Don’t worry, South, you’ll get your chance soon.” At the time, North believed it. He maneuvered his way above his sister’s score intending to be the first, not the only, to experience the incorporation of an AI. North had seen the vacant stares and troubled withdrawals of Washington and Carolina, and he wanted to take the lead with Theta so he could guide his sister through the process later.
As if hearing this thought, South’s face twisted in contempt. “Fuck you, North.” Her purpose satisfied, South shoved past her brother and stormed down the hallway.
Letting out a long sigh, North watched her leave. After a pause, Theta asked, Should I talk to her? The offer took North aback. So far, Theta hadn’t materialized to speak with anyone else. “No,” North murmured, “She’ll come around – she always does.”
Washington spoke from his hospital bed, causing North to stir from his memory. “Your sister is out of control.” North’s eyes flickered over his friend, but Wash’s gaze was vacant. “This whole goddamn project…”
A world of emptiness breathed beneath Wash’s voice, but for once, North found no words to mend his broken spirit. Instead, he reached out and rested a hand on Wash’s shoulder. “Hang in there, Wash.”
That night, North tore his sheets off as he lunged forward, gasping and sweating as the shadows of a nightmare retreated into the back of his mind. For the next few restless nights, the monsters and relationships he’d lost in life haunted his dreams. When he set his head back onto his pillow, his mind wandered. Every memory became subject to scrutiny while North labored over his sister: her intentions, her motivations, her true feelings.
North loved his sister, but he despised her too, an ugly emotion that North had little experience with. As he attempted to fall back asleep, the familiar doubt surfaced. Did he truly despise her, or did he fabricate the feelings to cover his own vulnerability, his self-destructive love? Without Theta to question and confirm his thoughts, North felt lost. Theta was his voice of reason, his sincerity.
As time wore on, it grew clear that he wouldn’t reach the answers by struggling through his memories. North had to look for her, to confront her.
He didn’t know what he’d do when he found her, but he planned to take his gun.
His true feelings
It took time, but his patience paid off.
When her trail turned up a week ago, North followed it immediately. South had been tailing someone herself, and he suspected it was the “Meta” at the root of all this trouble. That she would chose to fight him now disturbed North, but he focused on tracking her instead.
At an old military base, he finally caught up to her. The facility was empty, and North positioned himself above its crumbling front as he gazed at South. He centered her in the crosshairs of his sniper rifle. But he couldn’t do it, not without talking to her – maybe not at all.
As he slipped down the far side of the wall, North felt his heart pound against his chest. Although he’d imagined this moment, North had no plans. When it came to fighting with South, plans were useless.
Familiar with her combat style, North tipped over some barrels for a diversion and easily flanked her. He approached with his gun up, ready but not level.
When his foot ground against loose gravel, South jumped and spun around. Although her features were hidden under her helmet, her sharp intake of breath betrayed her shock. The twins stared, silent. Then, South said, “Delta told me you were alive.”
The green form appeared over her shoulder. “I merely stated,” he clarified, “That Agent North was alive but severely injured when Agent Washington arrived.”
South started shaking her head. “I don’t believe it,” she said, and North hadn’t expected the soft tone of her voice. “I saw you, you were…”
“I remember you coming to apologize.” Of the whole ordeal, her final words and the feeling of her fingers closing his eyelids rose to the surface of North’s memory. As she shifted her weight, the rest of the suffering came to mind. “And I remember you telling me you wouldn’t help.”
The weight of his accusation hung in the air, and Delta retreated into South’s mind. Now South angled her head away, and her voice hardened. “It was impossible to get there in time, North, and then it would be both of us -”
“Then why did you shoot Wash?”
They exchanged a stiff silence.
“I’m a survivor, North.”
Her reason caused North to bristle. “You left us both for dead so you could escape,” he corrected icily. “You won’t fight for anyone except yourself.”
“What do you want me to say!?” South spat. Her resentful, stubborn wrath felt so familiar that it raised a wave of nostalgia in him even as he despised her. “That I’m sorry for wanting to live? That I’m sorry for finally getting what was promised to me?”
She closed the distance between them, combative but not fighting. As she stared him in the eye, she growled, “We’re not the same, North. And we stopped being a team the moment you took that AI.”
North took one step back and gave her a level look. “I’m starting to wonder if you were ever part of a team. But now you never will be.”
She looked at his gun, then at her brother. “Oh, what are you going to do, North? Sh-”
The crack of a pistol rang out across the abandoned base.
He stood over her body, silent, as time slipped by. It felt as if he might never move from here, but the grumbling of vehicles broke his lonely vigil. The sight of Agent Washington parking the mongoose surprised North, but then he recalled the recovery signal still active in her armor. In a way, this encounter seemed fitting.
Another mongoose followed Washington into the facility, but it parked less gracefully halfway up a tree. The two blue-clad simulation soldiers were hustling to catch up to Wash as the Freelancer stopped a yard away from South’s lifeless body. “North,” he asked, “What are you doing here? Did the Meta get her?”
For once, North felt grateful for the helmet to mask his expression. “No. I did.”
Disbelieving, Wash said, “But – she’s your sister…”
“Not anymore.”
The Freelancer lapsed into silence, but one of the blue soldiers said, “Dude, you guys are some cold motherfuckers.”
Catching up to the situation, Wash turned to the blue and defended, “Agent South had already shot both of us in the back once before, and she tried to give up equipment to the enemy. Better not to wait around to see if she decided to do it again.”
“Right, sure,” he replied. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Finally stirred to life, North stepped around his sister to give Wash a pat on the back. “Have you got it from here, Recovery One?”
Wash nodded, but as North walked around him, he asked, “Where will you go?”
He received a shrug and, “I don’t know. I want to get away from it all.”
“That’s a good idea,” Wash replied seriously. The two shared one last look before North turned and started his journey to a better future. He heard Wash, business-like: “Delta, are you here?” He admired the perseverance of his friend; all of North’s energy want spent. Spent, but justified.
Perhaps time would allow him to work through his regrets. Time, it seemed, was all he had left.