The Railroad - Journey - 4.2
Imported from SF2 with no description.
We chose the third night of the year-end festival to take action because that was when everyone had been immersed in too many nights of revelry but hadn’t yet realized they were indulging too much and started feeling guilty about it.
We were very lucky; that night a thick fog rose, limiting visibility to barely two meters.
“Ready?” 74258 asked, holding his index finger above his terminal.
I took a deep breath, nodded, and signaled that he could proceed.
74258 pressed the screen on the terminal, and I didn’t even hear any confirmation sounds, like a beep or anything. The collar around my neck just unlocked and came loose.
“I thought it would be… more dramatic.” I said that, but I could barely control my trembling hands. Rationalism witness, I couldn’t even remember the last time I was without a collar.
74258 removed his collar without much difficulty and tossed it into the disposal bin. My hands were shaking so much that I couldn’t take mine off right away. But 74258 just watched silently, knowing this was something I had to do myself.
Finally, I steadied myself, removed the cursed restraint from my neck, and threw it aside, not wanting to have anything more to do with it.
I gently stroked the ring of skin around my neck, bare where there was no hair, feeling the imprint left by the badge, trying to confirm that I wasn’t dreaming.
If the situation allowed, I probably would have cried.
But I knew we were still far from true freedom, and those overly dramatic scenes could be saved for later chapters.
“Are you alright?” 74258 asked with concern, and I realized I had taken too long. Our window of opportunity wasn’t very wide.
“I’m fine,” I said, wiping my eyes and steadying my voice. “We should go.”
The fog was thick, the moisture so heavy it blocked all sounds from the festival. Usually, the noise would keep me from sleeping.
The sudden appearance of a concrete wall in front of us made us realize we had veered off course.
“This fog is too thick…” 74258 muttered in a low voice, hiding the terminal’s operation under the hem of his coat to prevent the light from giving us away as he checked our position.
As I waited for 74258 to confirm, I gently touched the towering concrete wall, feeling its rough, irregular texture. Nothing could keep blocking me...
A gust of cold wind blew through, and I reflexively pulled my coat tighter. The mist cleared slightly, making the blurry outline on the wall clearer—the thing I had been forcing myself to ignore.
All the shame, anger, sorrow, and pain... all the negative emotions I had buried to stay focused on the escape plan surged out at once, overwhelming me.
I clenched my teeth tightly, resisting the urge to scream. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and my muscles twitched from being tensed to the limit.
“It’s ready,” 74258 said softly, putting away the terminal. “Abel… are you alright?” He noticed something was wrong and lightly pushed my shoulder a few times.
I couldn’t speak, so I did my best to point upward with my finger.
“What…” 74258 whispered, but from the sudden stiffness in his body, I knew the fox understood what it was. “Oh, Rationalism above,” he gasped, his voice trembling slightly. “Abel…” 74258 placed his hand on my shoulder from behind, maybe trying to offer support, standing so close I could even feel his body heat.
I pushed 74258 away.
“I have to do something,” I said, wiping my face with determination.
“Abel,” 74258's voice was full of hesitation. “If you do anything, we’ll be discovered…”
“I have to do something!” I said, deliberately enunciating each word, emphasizing that my mind was made up.
I stood tall, lifting my muzzle to meet the hollow gaze of Adam's head.
They must have done some sort of preservation treatment because, aside from the dull hair and the removed eyes, Adam didn’t look much different from when he was alive. Of course, that’s if you could ignore the fact that his head was severed and nailed to the wall.
They even left the collar on him! Rationalism curses those monstrous fools, they actually left the collar on Adam! The collar!
It was like declaring that death—or a little incident like losing your head—couldn’t change the fact that we were someone’s property, and we would never be free!
I was so angry I didn’t care what 74258 thought. I ignored the fox’s soft calls and found a way up the wall, standing on top of the concrete structure, looking down at Adam’s head.
I lay down, pressing flat against the concrete, stretching my arm as far as I could. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t close the unbridgeable distance.
But I had to try, I had to do something!
If I could just… just stretch my hand a bit further, I could… I could reach it…
No, I couldn’t reach it. It was too far, impossible.
I still… I couldn’t do anything.
I could only watch as those murderers continued to humiliate and mock Adam, displaying my friend’s remains like a trophy...
And I... And I…
I blinked hard, refusing to let the tears welling up in my eyes fall. I would not show weakness to these oppressors.
I will… I will…
“Abel.” 74258’s voice came from behind, and he pulled me up. I was too exhausted to resist him. Besides, what would be the point?
Is there anything that has any point?
We’re all just on the path to dying like trash—or we’re already dead like trash.
“Be rational,” 74258 said, patting my face and locking eyes with me, helping me focus a little. “If you do anything, like taking off Adam’s collar, they’ll definitely notice. That could expose our plan.”
“But… Adam… can’t just…” I couldn’t even form a complete sentence.
I hated how useless I was.
I knew 74258 was right, I knew I was being irrational, and that it wouldn’t do Adam any good—Adam was long dead—they had made sure of that. I just wanted to make myself feel a little better.
But… I wanted to take back from them that feeling that I had a choice... The feeling that gave my actions meaning… that feeling of being alive…
74258 let out a deep sigh, his olive eyes closing for a few seconds.
“When I was still on the West Coast, I discovered a secret,” the fox said, placing his terminal on the ground and rapidly typing with all ten fingers. “I later confirmed that the pedigrees don’t know about this.” He glanced up at me while inputting commands. “Every collar has a chip in it, recording the wearer’s physiological data, as well as sound and video.” 74258 scanned the screen, then continued typing swiftly. “The chip doesn’t even need to be installed in the collar, as long as it’s within a certain distance, it can continue inputting data. In other words, everything a collar-wearer experiences in their life, their entire memory, is stored on the chip.”
74258 stood up, walked to the edge of the wall, and pointed at Adam’s head below.
“I don’t know which organization designed this function or for what purpose, but I suspect it’s the same ones who left backdoors in the systems of the Canine Empire, though I can’t be sure.” 74258 turned back to face me, placing both hands on my shoulders and staring straight into my eyes. “If you can accept this alternative, we can take the chip with us,” he said softly. “Together.”
I hadn’t yet calmed down enough to process everything 74258 was saying, but when I heard the key words, a chill ran down my spine—all memories—Adam’s memories.
I forced myself to nod. Even though I couldn’t bear the thought of the collar still being around Adam’s neck, I guess I had to accept this was the best I could do.
74258 seemed to relax a little after seeing my response. He took a few steps back, glanced down at Adam’s head, and then took off his coat.
“Yours too,” he gestured to me. Then he tied our coats together in a way I didn’t recognize and fastened one end to a protruding structure on the low wall. Once finished, he tugged on the makeshift rope a few times to test its stability. “I’ve made Adam’s collar eject the chip,” 74258 tapped his neck with his fingernail. “It should be around here.”
I stared at his outstretched hand, taking a moment to understand that the fox wanted me to hold onto it.
So I grabbed 74258’s hand, letting him hold onto me tightly as I stepped onto the wall and slowly descended.
Bit by bit, I got closer to Adam’s head, nailed to the wall.
Suppressing all the nausea, I focused on the small chip glowing on the side of the collar.
It was smaller than I had imagined.
I noticed 74258 was trembling slightly, and it occurred to me that we should have switched places—I was much heavier than him, and the fox didn’t seem very strong. But he just gritted his teeth without making a sound.
With an indescribable feeling of gratitude, I stretched my hand to its limit, using the tips of my middle and index fingers to pinch the small, one-square-centimeter chip, then clenched it tightly in my palm—gripping it firmly.
74258 began pulling me up, and I took one last look at Adam's head.
One day, I will remove your collar—I will remove everyone's collar.
The sharp edges of the square chip in my paw pricked me, but I only squeezed it tighter, and then tighter still.