Lu - Rebel

If you asked me to tell you about myself, Id say first that I like to understand things.

I always have. Ever since I was a kid, Ive been a tinkererprying apart old gadgets and laying out the innards of a broken radio or clock or toaster, delighting in the puzzle of making something new out of something old. It doesnt have to be a human-made machine, either. I love watching ants march in a line to a bit of food, take it apart, and carry it single file back to their hill. I love the way flowers bloom and then wilt, how you can preserve them forever just by pressing them between the pages of a book.

I like figuring things out, the how and the why.

My mother once called me her little alchemist, told me she believed I could turn rust into gold, and that I would ramble on about every little detail that makes up something until I ran out of breath. I skipped the last few semesters at my high school to become one of the best students at Ross University of the Sciences, the top-ranked college in the world, and Im about to graduate with an advanced degree after seven years, which should have taken ten. Ive already got an internship lined up back in the Republic, and in a couple of months, Ill be headed there for an orientation session.

But most people dont know me like this. Instead, theyll say:

This is Eden Bataar Wing, Daniels younger brother.

Thats who I am to others.

I understand why, of course. I may be a star student, good at figuring things out but my brother is Daniel Altan Wing.

Ten years ago, he was known as Day, the boy from the streets who led a revolution that saved the Republic of America. His name was spray-painted on buildings, his profile drawn on both rebel pamphlets and wanted posters. He went from being a notorious criminal to a national hero in the span of a year. There are documentaries about what he did during the war between the Republic and the Colonies, about all he had sacrificed. For his country, for me, he had nearly died.

Yeah. Its kind of hard to top that.

After the war ended, we moved here to Ross City, Antarctica, and during that time, I finished school and Daniel became an agent in the Antarctican Intelligence Service. Daniel, at least, is eager to leave our past behind. But that doesnt mean anyone has forgotten his name or his face. There are still times when well get stopped in the streets, or when Ill overhear people murmuring as we pass by.

Thats Day, Daniel Altan Wing, a legend. And thats his little brother, Eden.

Over the years, Ive let this become the version of myself that everyone knows. Eden, the little brother. Not Eden the tinkerer, the inventor. They dont know how Im drawn to understand things, or how Ive had nightmares almost every night since the Republics war ended. No, my identity is permanently tied to my brothers, regardless of what I do or think.

I dont tell most people who I am. I dont talk about the questions that run through my mind or the nightmares that keep me awake at night. People instinctually know to avoid someone who carries a weight on his chest as heavy as mine. So most who know me just see the quick smile and the earnest face and hear the breathless, rapid-fire chatter about the inner workings of a machine. They dont see the boy who startles awake at the sound of fireworks popping outside, convinced that its the thunder of gunfire as soldiers break into our home. They dont see the boy who forces himself to stay up one more hour just so it means one less hour of calling for his mother in his dreams. So it means not feeling embarrassed for still not being over her death.

I like to show my bright side because it puts people at ease. Eden, whos going to be just like his brother when he grows up. Not even Daniel seems to get who I really am. When I pretend Im okay, it makes my brother happy. And when hes happy, I can believe that I am too.

But at night, my dreams are filled with scenes of the Republic. They seep into every corner of my vision, all the good memories and the horrific ones, blending together so thoroughly that sometimes I can no longer tell one apart from the other.

Does Daniel have nightmares? If he does, hes never mentioned them to me.

The Republic, my past these are things I havent been able to figure out. To understand. Maybe thats why I ended up applying for an internship back in Los Angeles. Because I miss it, because I want to make it better by turning the Trial stadiums into hospitals, universities, and museums.

But also because it haunts my dreams, those old streets and faded memories. Because I cant stop thinking about it in the quiet and the dark. The brother that Daniel and I lost. The mother we will never see again. The father I never knew. Their ghosts walk my sleeping world, calling me back home.

I think about the Republic all the time. I wonder what it was like when I was small. I mull over and over the few broken memories I have. I read every article about the Republic that I can find. Its the hole in my past, the part that makes no sense to me, and Im obsessed with understanding it. I need to comprehend what happened in my childhood. How I managed to survive one of the darkest moments in our history.

But maybe thats stupid, you know? Because, sometimes, its impossible to understand something. Sometimes things dont happen for a reason.

The family we lost. The war that engulfed our lives. There is nothing to figure out, there is no how or why.

Sometimes things just happen.

To understand Ross City, my home, you need to tour it in two separate halves. Lets start with the Sky Floors, where Daniel and I live.

Ross City is the capital of Antarctica, one of the most advanced nations in the world. Compared with the Republic of America, its an absolute utopia. Its towering skyscrapers are stacked to the heavens, sealed securely inside a biodome that keeps temperatures comfortable and simulates a regular day-night cycle during the long summer and winter months. Dont ask me how it works. Ive searched online for years and worn my brother down with questions about it, but its still a fascinating and somewhat frustrating mystery to me.