Disclosure - Part 1
Part 2
8 months.
No other contact since. Just one small note and a cursed token. Both items resided in her office, stowed inside one of her desk drawers and buried underneath office supplies. There’s perks to keeping something so dangerous and troubling hidden away. She could forget it’s ever there. Anyone could if you busy yourself enough with other work.
Even so, Jayden knew it. She knew for a damn fact keeping it out of sight, attempting to keep it out of mind, wouldn’t relieve anything. It’s still a problem. A problem put aside until someone procrastinated enough for it to evolve into something more dangerous.
No one must know...no one can know about this…
Almost a year later Jayden kept this secret out of the public and private eye. Shaska, her mom, Axl, she sealed her lips even to them. Their own worries and troubles mattered more than her own state of mind. Why burden them more with this trouble when she’s experienced plenty of it already? Why should anyone know when it’s “family matters?”
“...why…”
The heavy coin reflected a bright shine from the afternoon sun. A precious item to anyone whose curious eyes caught a glimpse of its sheen, but an emblem of destruction for those who knew its origin.
ES.
The Emerald Spears.
A long since “dead” terrorist organization born from the wrath and hatred of all things robotic. Jayden first heard about their existence in some old texts recovered by the museum’s archeology team. Apparently before the Cataclysm, many humans loathed the existence of AI robots and their rapid progression in society. They saw them as a threat and began preaching humanity’s downfall at the hands of this AI intelligence. Robots grew, they evolved in their own way, they’d outsmart their human creators, and bring about a genocide. A beaten, burned document recounted an attack from the Spears at a robotics expo long ago, however there were no recorded names on such. The Cataclysm seemed effective in wiping out most of their information including other reported terrorist attacks, several listed names and company contributors, and other criminal records.
Yet here in 21XX…
Not much is known of their resurgence. Locals say they spotted hooded figures breaking into reploid repair shops, criminals under guise holding reploid centers hostage in exchange for police information, and of course influencing protesters in public areas. In most cases the suspect never admitted or even spoke of the Spears’ guidance in their plan. There’s some who don’t even believe the Spears are working from behind the curtains. Some are just flat out saying they all died off with the Cataclysm.
‘It’s just the nature of humans to fear something greater and more powerful than themselves. Something that can easily control their free will or restrict their freedom? Of course humans had a reason to be afraid, to be terrified of mechanical beings built to outlast them.’
Jayden knew…
No matter what others believed. If they thought the Spears couldn’t exist in this day and age, Jayden knew it all.
She saw it.
She saw from first-hand experience. The absolute terror of what these people could undertake. Not just from the encounters as a news reporter, civilian meetings with a potential member in her presence, or even during her own participation in pro-reploid civilian protests. It traced back to her own beginning. The start of her own life.
Jayden remembered the fights, verbal abuse, and control of her own ‘father figure’ since she was a little girl. Restrictions on anything reploid related suffocated her and her own mother. Neither could speak a word about their work or school life if it involved ‘those hunks of junk.’ Home wasn’t home for them. Her mom found quiet solace in the museum or, in Jayden’s case, a small cafe not too far from her home. Most of her memories from middle school centered around the friendly encounters inside the cafe. A young girl’s face glued to the TV watching the news and the staff treating her to some pastries after her tests. Jayden cherished the safe space, and of course the food.
The ‘real home’ for Jayden was the Abel City Museum. Staff treated her like she was their own daughter. At that point, they could’ve used her as a mascot for the museum just to draw in more business. Everyone loved seeing the girl with the two different eyes greet them with an award winning smile. Jayden equally loved welcoming the guests, giving them their tickets, and wishing them well through their adventure in the museum. Sometimes she managed everything all on her own! Some staff members were baffled seeing a nine-year-old kid handle money so accurately. Then again, they too saw the delight in something so innocent. Jayden grew to be one of the main attractions in the museum aside from the “real” ones.
The end of the day brought on the dreaded reality she and her mom embraced. No talk of mom’s work and of course no talk of any kind of news. Especially if stories centered around the Hunters. Dinner always led to extreme outbursts about ‘father’s’ own work day, snide comments about her mother’s workplace, and Jayden having to ‘man up’ against the bullies at her school.
‘No one else will fight for you! You never know when one of those walking scrap metal corpses will get the jump on you. Then you’re dead! You’re gone! It’s about self defense! You have to be stronger than them!’
It wasn’t self-defense. It was pure torture.
Punch after punch, kick after kick. Jayden couldn't keep track of how many new bruises appeared after each ‘training’ session with her father. Her mother had to purchase new bandages almost every week just for her own daughter. Of course mom brought up this horrible treatment with her father but it was met with a slap across the face and an derogatory, loud opinion. The only solace her mom could give was tending the new wounds and giving warm comfort.
All for what? Getting her stronger for an eventual, yet highly unlikely reploid takeover? Just so she could fight against them?
........What good did that do her?.
.............................What good did it do to her now...
...........................................
................................................!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“..............................................miss lady?”
“!!!”
A young girl around the age of 12 stood in front of Jayden. Short straight brown hair, brilliant blue eyes, and freckled skin. A small flower hair clip swayed by a few strands of hair holding on for its dear life. The child perked up soon as Jayden caught her attention. “Oh! Sorry...uh...were you asking for me?”
“Mmhm! You’re the one who’s on the TV right? The lady with the colored eyes, reporting on the Hunters yeah?”
Oh, right…
Just...put that eyes comment off to the side…
“That’s right. I’m the one you see on the holocasts. I’m...guessing you’ve seen my broadcasts before?”
“Yeah! Mom and Dad always put the news on when they come home from work. Say they enjoy the stories and other stuff they hear from you. Never really watched news much until you came on. They say they like your writing and how you...present yourself? I don’t know, I just like hearing you talk and seeing you talk with the Hunters!”
“Oh…” An admirer. She’d gotten used to some fan mail coming to the office and the brief encounters with other citizens in her work travels. It’s not uncommon to be recognized out in the public here and there, but this kid had some guts coming straight up to her. Did she want an autograph?
“Well it’s very nice of you to come up and tell me this. It affirms I’m doing my job right.” Jayden smiled pleasantly making the girl share the same sentiment.
“I wanted to ask. Actually...if...if you get scared out there. When there’s bad things going on, you’re there with the hunters. Isn’t it scary when you’re so close to those bad Mavericks?”
What a brave question. Melancholic too. She had to be in middle school yet she’s already recognized the threats. Of course everyone, at least hopefully everyone at this point, knew the difference between those kinds of threats and the ones who fought them.
A deep breath and a warm hand sat on the girl’s shoulder.
“It is. It’s very scary when I have to report in those areas. However, I don’t do it just because it’s my job, or because I’m told to do it. I do it so I can keep the people informed, so people are safe and so no one else gets hurt. In a way, I’m...almost like a human version of a Hunter. I don’t necessarily keep the people physically safe, but...I do my best for Abel City to know what’s going on. So no one’s hidden in the dark, so no one is lied to about current events, and...hopefully to make people smile too. Just like you!”
“Heehee~” The small girl bounced in place. “Thank you miss reporter!” Someone called across the street catching both of their attention. A taller boy, broad shoulders, and much older than the little girl.
“Hailey! I’ve been looking for you! Come on, we have to get going!”
“Okay bro!” One last turn, one last big smile and thank you, then off she ran straight into her brother’s leg. A little wave from her and soon they melded into the evening word crowd. Such a pleasant exchange...
Beep beep beep! Beep beep beep!
A small alarm beeped on Jayden’s watch. Right, she promised her mom she’d be home for dinner tonight. A home cooked meal waiting for her, as soon as she stepped into the door. Anyone working the kinds of shifts she undertook would take this as a special treat, yet Jayden couldn’t feel any warmth or longing excitement. Tonight would be the night. She’d come clean about the note and the…
Right...the Spears.
....was this really the right time? Her mother already had too much on her plate considering her work at the museum. It’d been months since she received the threat so...maybe they just wanted to scare her. That’s all. But...in another way she had a right to know. After everything she did for Jayden though...all that heartache, pain, suffering...after all the troubles of her own life…
...does she really deserve more heartbreak?
The crunched note slipped out of her inside jacket pocket.
‘...little canary…’
“I’m going to be late…”
A deep breath in then pushed out. This exhaled some of the weighted stress out of her system. The reporter rose off the bench fixing the folds in her jacket. No bike ride tonight. She’d take it easy and walk back to the apartment complex. A calm, steady pace at that. There wasn’t any need to rush home when her mother already expected a late start.













