A Standup Philosopher
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Nothing Is True
🕑 Added 2023-01-10 20:08:51 +0000 UTCNothing Is True (Save For The Blood We’ve Shed)
Chapter Nine
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Abigail Griffin hadn’t been the best company, at least for certain people, since her husband had been floated. Oh, she was genial enough, polite and just as dedicated to caring for the people of The Ark as she had ever been, but she the difference was noticeable for anyone who had ever met her before Jake had died. She wasn’t approachable, any longer, wasn’t warm or friendly. Didn’t seek others out, didn’t spend time in the halls speaking with her fellow citizens or make idle conversation in the cafeteria.
Then Clarke (though no one knew it) had been sent to Earth, ending up tens of miles off course. Everything had gone rapidly, and sharply, downhill at that point.
Abby had been on a warpath since then, abrasive at best and outright hostile at worst to most of the population, depending on how close they were (whether in her opinion or in actual fact) to Jaha and his faction. In fact, it seemed to most that she was being even more hostile to the man than she had been after her husband had died, and speculation ran both rampant and grim. The most popular theory was that Clarke was going to be executed soon, which fit in quite well with what the general population thought about her father’s death and her own arrest, and did little to keep things aboard the station calm and peaceful.
The population was nervous. It was never good for the people caught in the middle when factions on Alpha started squabbling, even if outright violence had always been avoided in the past, thanks to a number of factors, though if one were to be honest it boiled down less to patriotism and dedication to the protection of mankind’s cohesion and more to fears that fighting would result in things like hull-breaches or the destruction of vital machinery.
The kids in the Skybox weren’t helping matters either, not that they seemed to be trying or caring overmuch about that particular fact. Quite the opposite, in fact, according to those that had family and friends on the far side of that particular airlock. Something had happened, though no one knew what it was for sure, only that the majority of them had closed ranks and stepped up their more physical activities, with the outliers being pushed even further to the side, rarely leaving their rooms except to visit another.
All in all, there was definitely tension in the thinning air of the last bastion of humanity, and no one knew what was going to happen next. No one knew if things were going to be pushed past the boiling point and into bloody, chaotic disaster. Everytime the Council met, the people awaited the result with bated breath, hoping that it would go well, hoping that their leaders would continue to work together for the betterment and survival of humanity. Hoping against hope that they would put their differences and issues with one another aside to do their jobs and protect their people.
The people no doubt would have been saddened, though not surprised (a sad statement in and of itself) to discover that the Council was not doing any of those things in their current meeting, but were in fact locked into yet another bitter struggle between factions. Or, perhaps more accurately, Abby and Jaha were at each other’s throats again, and the rest of the Council was staying well out of the argument until the two shut up enough for them to contribute.
“It hasn’t even been a week yet, and you already want to write the mission off?” Abby growled at the dark-skinned Chancellor, looking rather like she wanted to wring his neck with her bare hands. Something that didn’t seem to escape Jaha’s notice, as the Chancellor was sitting rather further back from the table than was his usual wont. “Are you fucking serious, Thelonius? You want to break your word to Clarke this quickly? I mean, expecting you to keep a promise is probably too much, but I would have thought you could at least manage to last a portion of the agreed-upon time rather than the slimmest fraction!”
“Hardly.” He responded coldly with something faintly resembling a sneer creasing his face. “Writing Clarke off would mean population reductions, not trying to send her best friends to help her. After all, haven’t I heard that Raven Reyes is the best mechanic on the station for her age, better than anyone other than Sinclair,” he tilted his head towards the frowning, tight-lipped Head of Maintenance. “over and over again? Who could possibly be better to help Clarke figure out how to send word up to us if Earth is survivable?”
“Ignoring, however briefly, the fact that if Earth isn’t survivable, you’ll be getting the best mechanic of the next generation killed for nothing,” Abby retorted, her tone and bearing making it clear that she didn’t particularly think it was appropriate to ignore that particular fact. “there is the fact that you’re obviously lying. You just want to get Clarke’s two closest friends, that aren’t locked up, safely far away from your fragile ego. You can’t lock them up in the Skybox, your popularity is already on shaky ground as it is, and if you floated them you’d get lynched, so sending them to Earth is the next best thing.”
He looked like he was going to protest, not that anything he could say would be remotely convincing as far as she was concerned, but she rolled right over him, not even pausing for breath.
“Of course, how exactly you think you can send them to Earth escapes me. Using an Exodus ship would take months, not to mention it would be wasteful to a level I can barely imagine to use one for two teenaged girls, and their absences would get noticed pretty quickly. People might start wondering if you’re doing illegal executions under the table.” Here she paused, a cold, hard glint in her eyes as her mouth shifted to a small, but noticeably dark, smile. “That wouldn’t be very healthy, I imagine. Probably very tragic, though.”
Several people at the table shuddered, either at her physical appearance or at the mental images that their imaginations were coming up with in response to her words. Judging by their expressions, said mental images were probably unpleasant in the extreme. Jaha’s initial response was nothing more than a deepening of his expression, though he spoke quickly enough afterwards.
“Of course I wouldn’t use an Exodus ship, don’t be ridiculous.” He responded, voice nearly dripping with condescension, a patronizing look on his face. It was a rather ugly look on him, if the Council was going to be honest, but in fairness it was absurd to even contemplate the idea. “No, there are several single-person reentry pods available, above and beyond Clarke’s and those we cannibalized to repair it. We, meaning my predecessors and I, always intended to use them for some sort of scouting of the Earth. It shouldn’t be hard to fix a pair of them up for Clarke’s friends.”
“And explaining their absences? The entire maintenance division would notice if Reyes was gone, Blake’s brother works Sanitation, and both of the girls are pretty popular. Clarke disappearing is one thing, she is already in the Skybox and already wasn’t allowed to have visitors. Reyes and Blake are still out, still in public, still seeing family and friends daily.”
“I am aware, Abigail, I assure you of that.” He growled in response, drumming his fingers on the tabletop in agitation. “Explaining their absence may not be as great an issue as you believe. After conversations with Marcus, amongst others, I am considering the possibility of informing the population of Clarke’s mission.”
Abby couldn’t help the harsh bark of laughter that was startled after her, and it continued for long seconds before tapering off as she shook her head and stared at him with a look somewhere between bafflement, contempt, and amusement.
“Really? After threatening everyone involved a dozen times a week with summary execution for so much as mentioning Earth to the general populace, never mind the mission itself, you want to go public? Why?” she asked, looking genuinely interested, if not kindly so. “I mean, the next election isn’t for almost a year, so it isn’t that. Trying to drum up local support? I can’t see you going for it, not when it would do Clarke’s reputation far more good than your own. So, what’s the benefit to you to go public?”
That was also a good point, one that many people around the table agreed with, even if they were going to keep quiet about it. The fact that there was no obvious benefit, at least none that could outweigh the downsides, was far from reassuring to any of them. Jaha hadn’t been the worst Chancellor, by far, but the very nature of politics, especially Ark politics, meant displays of generosity or political vulnerability to the public were greeted with suspicion by everyone involved. When the Chancellor was Thelonious Jaha and the situation involved Clarke Griffin and her friends, doing something that might make them even more popular?
Oh yes, many metaphorical eyebrows were being raised.
“Oh, I think being the Chancellor that brought mankind back to Earth will more than make up for any perceived sins involved in the situation.” Jaha smiled coolly, looking rather pleased with himself as he continued. “Despite the impression you have of me, I never wanted Jake dead, and I don’t want to kill Clarke or her friends. What I want, all I have ever wanted, was to protect what is left of our species. I think sending Clarke help and getting the rest of the Ark onboard is the best way to do it.”
“Hmm.” Abby regarded him with a gimlet eye, noting begrudgingly that his words seemed fairly genuine, not that it changed what he had done to her family (with her help, God forgive her, even if it hadn’t been what she intended) in the least. “Well, I’m willing to give it some thought, but not this quickly. If the Earth is deadly and my daughter is…gone, her ghost will come back and find a way to kill all of us if we get Raven and Octavia killed as well. I’ll agree to start fixing up transport to get them to Earth, but not to going public or sending them down until the pods are totally ready or we hear from Clarke.”
“Well, they do say a good compromise leaves everyone unhappy, so I suppose that we are in agreement.” Jaha shrugged slightly and nodded in agreement after a long moment of thought, before regarding the rest of the Council. “Is there anything else for us to discuss at the moment?”
There wasn’t, or at least nothing that was vital enough to keep everyone in that room at that moment, and the meeting was quickly disbanded, each member returning to their duties or their leisure as their schedule allowed.
Most of them were simply glad some manner of common ground, no matter how thin, had been found for once. It was a very rare thing, of late, and should be cherished wherever and whenever it could be. Maybe, with this, things would become less contentious over all? That would do wonders for cooperation, not to mention the nerves and blood pressure of the entire station, never mind the rest of the Council that had to watch the two most powerful people aboard war with one another live, raw, and uncut.
It seemed things were finally looking up.
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Thelonious slumped into the chair of his expansive personal desk, safely out of view in his private quarters, with an exhausted groan, fingers kneading his temples as he tried in vain to banish the throbbing headache that was pounding behind them.
Contending with Abby was getting harder every meeting, which was at least half of the reason that he was throwing a bone, however small, the Griffin matriarch’s way in regards to sending Clarke help. He hadn’t even been lying, when he had claimed that he had never wanted Jake, Clarke, or her friends dead. Jake had needed to die, just as much as Clarke neededto die, and her friends needed to either die or otherwise be neutralized as potential threats to his plans, but he had never wanted that to be the case. Quite the opposite as a matter of fact. He loved Jake like a brother, Clarke like a daughter. Indeed, he had hoped that someday his Wells would win the girl’s heart (or, at least, that he could tweak a few things to Match them with one another) and make them family in truth (alongside, as it happened, ensuring that it was his Order’s bloodline that returned to Earth), but it hadn’t been possible. He hadn’t dared to risk it.
Pushing those thoughts aside before he re-tread old paths once again, he instead turned his mind once more towards plotting. Specifically, how best to turn the current situation to his advantage. He had, perhaps foolishly, thought that Abby would jump on his suggestion without much in the way of complaint. Anything to help her beloved daughter.
Instead, she had pushed back and put him in the position of having to accept her compromise.
Although, he mused thoughtfully to himself, drumming his fingers lightly on the table, perhaps this wasn’t such a bad thing. In the end, holding off until the pods had been repaired changed nothing at all, so it was hardly a large concession on his part, and the Council would appreciate his willingness to compromise, especially with someone he was so often and so harshly at odds with these days.
He might adhere loyally to his Order’s ideals, but he was willing to admit now, as he had in the past, that his ‘iron fist’ couldn’t be too stiff and cruel a grasp, or he might quickly find himself rather thoroughly deposed and deceased. Besides, he was also quite willing to admit that his Order had gone far beyond what it should have in pursuit of its goals. Genocides, ethnic cleansings, not to mention being the ones responsible for the Final War turning from conventional to the widespread use of Weapons of Mass Destruction. Oh, the Grandmaster of the time had believed that it was the only way to beat the coalition under Clarke’s great-grandmother led against the Templar’s own proxies, and his own great-grandparents (relatively low level, but well-placed scientists with NASA) certainly hadn’t been any position to argue with him.
Instead, the Grandmaster had done nothing more than wipe out the vast majority of humanity and leave the rest on the very edge of a cold, dark oblivion. The man had been a fool, and he wouldn’t even give the dignity of claiming that he had at least been a well-meaning fool.
No, the Order would need to adjust, even if only in some of its methods, if Humanity was going to survive. Which meant that, rather than trying to force compliance through physical might or through Isu artifacts, he would have to be rather more subtle and gentle about things than any of his predecessors would have preferred. Their methods had failed repeatedly throughout history, and so his New Method would be ensuring that the people of the Ark thought living rigidly and under strict control was the best way to survive. He probably wouldn’t have to work that hard to convince them, given that (regardless of whether or not the atmosphere itself was instantly fatal) Earth was probably going to turn out to be quite the dangerous place to live for at least a few generations. By the time it would be, arguably, safe enough to loosen the reins, the proper way of living would be too engrained to be disposed of. Oh, it would still be far looser than any of the Templars of the Old World would have considered acceptable, but it would be good enough.
A simple plan, though certainly not an easy or flawless one. It would require an abundance of patience, to say the least.
Fortunately, patience was his watchword.
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Totally aware that the Chancellor was plotting, even if they had no idea of any specifics (after all, the man never stopped plotting, so assuming he was doing so at any given time was always a good choice), but confident that they were entirely safe and in a (relatively) stable situation, Raven Reyes and Octavia Blake were comfortably ensconced in the younger’s quarters, curled up on her bed and relaxing as they quietly talked.
It was not an uncommon sight, for those familiar with them, to see the pair in close proximity with one another after Clarke had been sent to the Skybox. Many people on the Ark, for good or for ill, were actually quite convinced that the pair were a couple, and in many ways they were. They were scrupulously chaste in their activity together, with little more than comfortable cuddling and frequent physical closeness between them. As childish as it might seem, as strange to some, they wanted to wait for Clarke. Perhaps that would leave them inexperienced in comparison to the likes of Zoe, or Harper, but they were comfortable with that fact.
“So, what now? The girls have the Skybox under control, Clarke is gone…there isn’t much that you and I can do besides keep chatting with sympathetic people and keeping in good shape.” Raven murmured in the ear of the shorter girl curled up against her chest, and Octavia hummed absently in response, sounding more drowsy than anything else. Prodding her stomach lightly with the arm wrapped around her, Raven spoke again. “O?”
“I don’t know yet, Raven.” She grumbled, squirming slightly at the prodding with a slight pout forming on her face. An expression that no one but Raven, Clarke, and her own family had ever seen on the normally snarky or coldly sarcastic girl. “I would say we should do some recruiting, but she specifically told us notto do that so we didn’t risk pissing Jaha off. Besides keeping up with the people who are already on her side of things and keeping up our training, I don’t know that there is anything we can do.”
“…we could always do some spying?” Raven offered after a long moment of silence, and Octavia made a slightly surprised sound at that, before giving a more thoughtful hum, sounding much more awake than she had moments before.
“Gathering information for Clarke on what the Council and some of the other factions are up to might be a good idea.” She agreed, sounding quite interested in the idea, interest that grew into excitement as she continued. “Plus, it might give us a chance to reach out to some people without actually trying to recruit anyone! That way, we can improve our position without disobeying Clarke!”
That…hadn’t been quite what Raven was going for, but sure, why not. She wasn’t going to oppose anything that might go back to paying back the enormous debt she felt was owed to Clarke. Of course, debt or no debt, she would still do anything she could to help the blonde that she cared so much for.
Not for the first time, she reflected on how much her life had changed since she had been accepted into Clarke’s circle of friends. Not only had she learned Finn’s true face, but she had found a group of people who were happy to accept her as she was, happy to help her and protect her, happy to feed her and care for her when her mother bartered away their food rations yet again.
“C’mon, we might as well get started by going to say hi to her mom and finding out if there’s any information about her.” She declared, pushing the small hurt and regret that still lingered at those thoughts away, sitting up and beginning to deftly tidy her ponytail. Octavia gave a pro forma groan as she did the same, and Raven didn’t even try to restrain the small smile that creased her lips as she recognized the eagerness in the other girl’s motions.
She might not love Octavia the way Harper and Zoe loved one another, but she cared for the younger girl deeply, and was honest enough to acknowledge that someday such a love might grow between them as well. Love wasn’t meant to be constrained by any means but consent, after all. If it happened, she would not protest. If it did not, she would be content with their current, close friendship.
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Several hours later, Abigail Griffin watched as her daughter’s two closest female friends left her quarters with smiles, hugs, and waves farewell all around. It was remarkable, how her daughter had helped them both so much, and in such different ways. Oh, Clarke had protected each of them, in one way or another, but their circumstances couldn’t be more different.
Raven had been betrayed by everyone she had loved before Clarke. Her mother beat her and sold her rations for illegal products on the black market (something she still wished the girls had let her report, but Raven had been adamant that she wouldn’t be responsible for her own mother getting floated, no matter how abusive the woman had been), her boyfriend had slept around with strangers and tried to sleep with her friends, and one of the men who had mentored her (here, Abby felt the familiar guilt and pain) had been murdered by the powers-that-be.
Octavia, in contrast, had been raised with nothing but love. Her mother and brother had adored her, degrading themselves and working themselves to the bone in order to keep her safe, well-fed, and as well-adjusted as they could make her. Her mother had risk execution, and indeed suffered it, to give Octavia a chance at life instead of having her aborted or euthanized. It was not from those that she had loved that Clarke had protected Octavia, but the world at large.
Not for the first time, Abby marveled at her daughter’s ability to gather friends, followers even (though Clarke would probably protest the use of that particular term), and not just earn but keep their loyalty. She had always been good at that, good at charming those around her and getting them to do what she wanted. Not in a manipulative way, not in a way tainted by arrogance or greed, but through sheer charisma and strength of personality, and when she had gotten older logic and diplomacy had gotten added on to her methods of persuasion.
Jake had talked to her about it once, when she had expressed concerns for Clarke’s safety and emotional health, with so many people (most likely all having their own goals and plans) around her, but he hadn’t been worried in the least. He had said that Clarke was different, that many in his bloodline had been the same. It was one of the few times they had discussed the more secretive parts of his ancestry, the war between to factions with different views of humanity that had been raging quite literally since Cain and Abel.
He had implied, though never outright stated, that these ‘Isu’ that had once enslaved and bred with humanity, had done so to such a degree that certain families had such a degree of Isu ancestry that they were morethan most humans. That such individuals were where so many legendary feats in human history had been born, like King Arthur or Hercules.
That his family was one of those families, one that had led the fight on behalf of the Order of Assassins for as many generations as they could trace, a central piece to this secret war for the soul of mankind.
It terrified her, on many levels, to know that her daughter may not be quite so human as she appeared, or that her daughter might someday be ranked amongst those ancient legends. None of whom had a happy ending, none of whom had gotten to live out their lives in peace amongst those that they loved. She had sworn to him, then, that no matter how ‘rich’ Clarke’s blood might be, she wouldn’t let her daughter waste away her life playing the hero. Never knowing love, never knowing peace, never getting to grow old and fat and happy surrounded by family.
Another broken promise on a mountain of them, she mused bitterly to herself as she eyed the clock and sighed. Perhaps she would see if Marcus was free for lunch. The Head of Security had become something very like a friend to her, of late, and she rather enjoyed being in his company. It made the stress and the fear ease, if only for a time.
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