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Never to Submit
Tyler Steele swam slowly to consciousness, feeling the ache throughout every bone in his body. Very slowly, he raised his head and looked around. He was in some sort of underground cave, with skugs guarding the entrance. He snorted to himself. As if he even had the strength to crawl that far! His brain felt like it was wrapped in cotton fluff, a probable side effect of the knowledge tap. As near as he could tell, the knowledge was being copied, rather than transferred. Something about the process made it hard for him to access that knowledge, though.
Sitting up laboriously, he tried to think. The last thing he really remembered was being thrown back into his cell in Grimlord's fortress after his latest session with the mind tap. Someone had been trying to talk to him, but he had been unable to pull himself back to reality to find out who. Now he was here, in this cave.
That puzzled him. Why wasn't he in Grimlord's dungeon? He obviously hadn't been rescued, and guards aside, the security was much less. He was almost at the end of his usefulness to Grimlord, so why move him now?
"Greetings, Tyler Steele!" an all-to-familiar voice greeted him. Tyler looked up, glaring at the huge hologram of Grimlord that had appeared on one wall.
"What do you want now?" Tyler asked, too tired and muzzy to summon more than the most rudimentary defiance.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news, Steele," the mutant grinned. "You may be wondering why you've been moved to- better quarters. I'm afraid I had to destroy my fortress. Those pesky Troopers were getting too close."
Tyler yawned. "And your point is?"
Grimlord's grin stretched even wider. "Apparently, reality's defenders are now short one Trooper." The image shifted, showing Ryan in his virtual form running down the halls of Grimlord's dungeon, calling for his father as a timer clicked off the seconds. Then there was a huge explosion, and then nothing at all.
Shock hit Tyler like a punch in the stomach. Ryan was dead? Impossible. "I don't believe it," Tyler replied, shaking his head. "You could have easily spliced these images together."
"You know better than that, Steele," Grimlord replied. The hologram flickered, showing the area of the grid where Grimlord's dungeon had once been. It was a wasteland, nothing standing for miles. "Do you truly believe anyone could have survived that?" The hologram disappeared, leaving Tyler alone in the darkness.
The worst of it was that Tyler did know better. The explosion hadn't been spliced in. He had seen Ryan's surroundings exploding around him, the walls bursting into flame. Then there was the dungeon. With that much destruction, there was no way that Ryan could have survived. Not even a VR Trooper could take being at ground zero of an explosion. Tyler should know- he had designed the powers himself.
Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the cool rock walls of the cave, feeling the shock give way to pain, incredible pain. After Mariah had died, Ryan had been all he had left. Some nights, the only thing that had kept Tyler going was the knowledge that he had a son, one he would risk anything to get back to. And now Grimlord had taken that away from him as well.
"Dad, will I be as good as you when I grow up?"
"Aw, Dad! A puppy!"
"Look, Dad! I got my blue belt!"
"You think you could help me fly my kite?"
A thousand images and remembered conversations flowed through Tyler's mind in an instant. Eight years old, blue eyes, blond hair, looking more like his mother every day.
"Whoever you are- I won't fight you."
Eighteen, standing against an army with only two friends at his side, courage and honor evident in every word.
"DAD!"
Nineteen, annihilated in one instant of pure horror. Tyler winced. It must have been quick, at least. Ryan could hardly have felt a thing.
Maybe it would be easier just to give in, to submit to the rest of the mind tap without putting up a fight, to let Grimlord plunge him into pure oblivion. It would be easier than spending the rest of his life dreaming about one moment of fire, and his son calling out for him at the last.
NO! That was what Grimlord wanted, and Tyler would never give him the
satisfaction. He owed it to Ryan to go on fighting, even until the last.
Tyler smiled a little, not even looking up as the skugs came to collect
him. He supposed that the old saying did have a little truth to it. "Like
father, like son."
"My fault," he cried soundlessly. "All mine." Floating in the emptiness that had been his mind, Tyler had been relentlessly pursued by one inescapable conclusion: That he, more than anyone else, was responsible for his son's death. He had been the one to tell Professor Hart to contact Ryan when the need arose. At the time, it had seemed like the only option. For eight years, he had been preparing Ryan as best he could for the very real possibility of growing up alone. Ever since Mariah's death, it had been far too apparent that he might not survive to see Ryan grow up. For that reason, he had taught his son every lesson he could, cramming as much teaching into every day as he could.
"Some childhood," he scoffed. "First you spend eight years turning him into the perfect soldier, and then you disappear. It's a wonder he grew up sane."
He had grown up more than sane, though. From the first moment that he had seen Ryan again, with his own eyes, he had been astounded and proud at how well his son had grown. Ryan's maturity and the obvious strength of the bonds connecting the three Troopers had reassured Tyler that his decision was the right one. Friendships of that magnitude were more powerful than anything Grimlord could come up with.
But now Ryan was dead. That friendship was irreparably broken, and Tyler couldn't help agonizing. There must have been someone else, some other way. But he had taken the easiest option, and Ryan had paid for it with his life.
Suddenly Tyler felt something, an infinitesimally light tug on him, pulling him back towards consciousness. Instantly he pulled away, straining against it with all his might. His grief and guilt was unbearable even here, in the darkness of his own head. Out there, in the real world, a thousand memories waited. He'd never survive it. And if he hadn't been rescued, if he was still Grimlord's prisoner... Anything was better than the mutant leader's mocking laughter.
Still the pull continued, stronger this time, and strangely warm. It was as if the force was composed of love and affection, of friendship. Whoever was summoning him back into the real world, it could not be Grimlord. But who was left to feel that way about him? It could only be Kaitlin and JB, straining towards a memory, the last connection to the friend they had lost. Tyler came to a decision. He couldn't hide in the darkness forever. At the very least, he owed the Troopers that.
Choice made, Tyler relaxed surrendering himself to the pull, rising up through the darkness of his own head towards the world of the light once more. Then he was back in his own body, and his eyes opened of their own accord.
A blurry room swam into focus, neither a virtual dungeon nor the white virtual lab. As he sat up, he saw candles, crystals, and books too far away for him to read the titles. People were around him, helping him into a sitting position, but they were nothing but blurs to him, talking incomprehensibly around him. In front of him, a blond blur reached out and grasped his hands in a strong, strangely familiar grip.
"You're home, Dad," a voice said. "It's finally over."
Tyler could only stare in shock as his eyes finally focused. Ryan stood before him, smiling, crying a little, and definitely alive. _Or am I dead?_ Tyler thought wildly. _Is this what life after death is like?_ Looking around himself, Tyler finally recognized his surroundings. This was Tao's meditation chamber in the dojo, not somewhere he expected to find in the afterlife. Another quick check of the room showed one face missing, one he knew would be waiting for him. A small pain stabbed through his heart as he smiled to himself, a little sadly. _Still alive, I guess. Which means..._
Looking up at his son, Tyler finally managed to gather his thoughts enough to speak. "Ryan," he croaked. He couldn't say anymore, but he didn't have to. With the uncanny understanding the two had shared all their lives, Ryan instantly realized what his father was trying to say.
"I know, Dad. I love you too." Then Tyler found himself drawn into a
tight, almost rib-crushing hug. Wrapping his arms around his son, he vowed
to himself that this time, he would never let go.