Tears of Fruit (Full version)

Tears of Fruit

Torrents of rain pelted Bijal's uniform as he patrolled the market. The droplets glistened as they slid down the water-resistant material. Other uniformed men walked with him. Water sloshed under their foot falls. Vendors and civilians gave them wary looks as they swept by. If the uniform that he and the other Order Keepers wore did not strike fear in them, then the automatic rifles that they carried did.

Bijal was Number Seven. The Order Keeping Force members did not have names attached to their titles. Digits were assigned to each separate squad. To the President, Akshay Harsha, everybody was equal. Bijal bit his lip. That meant that everybody below him was puppet, and he was the master who pulled the strings. The only people who knew him by his name was his family. To everyone else, he was just a number.

Enormous buildings reached cornered him on both sides. It was like he were walking through a canyon. Bijal sighed. Things were so much different than they were in History books. India was swiftly becoming a metropolis.

Water fell from roofs like waterfalls. A vendor flinched when a crack of thunder pierced the rainfall.

Bijal glanced at a peeling poster of Akshay Harsha. He tightened his grip on his rifle. The metal dug into the soft flesh of his palm. Akshay's face alone demanded respect.

Number Thirteen saluted the weather ravaged poster. His right hand was pressed against his chest. For a moment he looked like a statue, but then he moved on. His foot prints were embedded in the muddy ground.

Bijal gazed up at the swirling black clouds. The frigid rain struck his exposed face like bullets. He blinked against them. Through his hazy vision Bijal saw Lightning bolts streak down like wild serpents. Explosive thunder claps followed.

He smiled. From as far back as his days as a child, Bijal loved storms. Their power and violent nature struck awe in his heart. He had always fantasized how it would be to posses such force. In fact, that was what had motivated him to join the Order. After India's economy collapsed, a complete stranger in the political world rose to Presidency.

That man was Akshay Harsha. In no time he, astounding both the entire eastern and western world, made India rise out of the ashes. Among the first things that he did after he started the New India, was create a peace keeping force. The Order Keeping Force. But it was the symbol that the President associated with them that inspired him to enlist. A Lightning bolt, which was accompanied by an increased number of raindrops the higher the rank. A ring of five clouds was the Commander rank.

A man with that emblem was only a few paces ahead of him. Bijal respected and feared him. Mostly feared. The Commander, who in the squad was Number eight teen. The exact number of the squad.

“Let's head into the store, soldiers!” the Commander barked over the pounding rain fall. He gestured to a large red door on the right side of the street.

Bijal glanced at it and studied the sign above it which read, The King Cobra Market. It was one of the many modernized stores that had been built around India after Akshay became President.

"Hey! You can't just take that!" someone hollered over the raging storm.

The Commander cocked his head in the direction of the voice. "Get the thieve!" he barked. He pulled out a pair of hand cuffs and tossed them to Number Six. Who caught them with the tips of his fingers. The Commander nodded to a fruit stand on the other side of the street.

Bijal held his breath. What may seem like a routine arrest could quickly escalate into violence in the new India. He pulled his right shoulder in as Number Six brushed past.

The man who was stealing fruit was foolishly stuffing apples into his raggedy blue coat. As Number Six drew closer he peered up at the Order Keepers. There wasn't a flicker of fear in his eyes.

"Return the fruit sir," Number Six said.

The man only stared at him. His long wet hair dropping over one eye like a patch.

"Sir, that's an order."

"And I choose to ignore it," the man said, standing his ground.

"Sir, as a civilian you have no authority to make such a decision," Number Six said, stopping a few paces ahead of the man. The vendor behind the stand backed away into the shadows. He clearly did not want any involvement with the situation.

To Bijal's shock, the man casually shook his head. "You poor fool," he said.

"Listen you imbecile!" the Commander roared. "You can make this easy on yourself or I can have Number Six tighten a pair of handcuffs on you so tight that they slit your wrists! You'll bleed to death before you even set foot in prison."

Bijal straightened his back and arched his shoulders. His throat constricted and he swallowed. He wanted to rub at his skin, which had gone clammy. But remained at attention. His gaze focused on the man standing up to an entire Order Keeping squadron.

"Thieve, just give me back the fruit and turn yourself over," the vendor said, his voice barley audible over the rain fall.

"Do you not see what is happening to our land?" the man said turning to face the vendor.

"Alright, cuff the bastard!" the Commander ordered.

Number Six turned the man roughly around and pinned his arms behind his back. The man thrashed violently and managed to break one of his hands away.

"Shiva will execute her justice on your tyrant and his kingdom!" he said.

Bijal raised his weapon and pointed it at the man who tried to desperately get out of Number Six's grasp. Bijal almost squeezed the trigger when the man slammed Number Six against the fruit stand. The vendor yelped in surprise.

Vendors and civilians all around them stopped what they were doing and either fled the scene or gawked at the struggle. From the corner of his eye, Bijal saw the Commander upholster his gun. His blood ran cold.

"Number four," The Commander said calmly, "get the bastard on his knees."

Number Four marched toward the wrestling men and jerked the man away from Number Six. He then threw him face down the mud. The man gagged and spat as he lifted his head up out of the muddle.

A woman gasped put a hand to her mouth. People everywhere stared at the man as he brushed mud away from his eyes.

Bijal hoped the woman covering her mouth wasn't the man's wife.

"Look at me, thieve," the Commander said, peering down at the man.

The man raised his head to face the Commander. A flash of lightning bathed his face in fiery blue. The man's features were undecipherable. "You're dead," the man said. His gaze swept him and the other Order Keepers. "All of you."

"Ironic," the Commander said. He took the safety off his gun; the click was almost completely muffled by the storm, but it still sent a shiver through the crowd.

"Rise up my friends!" the man shouted as he took in the crowd. "Take the tyrant off his throne!" "Return peace and-"

Before the man could say any more the Commander shot him in the face. The gun boomed louder than the thunder.

People squealed and quickly fled the scene; kicking up mud and water. Bijal trembled as adrenaline surged through him. He was so terrified about witnessing an execution that he felt the urge to vomit. Bijal swallowed back bile that was trickling up his throat and loosened his grip on his gun.

The Commander turned away from the body and swept his gaze through the squad. His dark brown eyes locked on the man beside Bijal. "Number Eight, give our vendor friend back his products."

Number Eight briskly walked toward the body and bent down. He flopped the dead man over on his back and quickly whipped away his bloodied muddy coat to retrieve the fruits in his inner pockets.

The man had only stolen four apples. Bijal felt like rushing over to the Commander and piercing his cold heart with his knife. How could the thievery of a mere four fruits that grew plentifully in trees justify execution? But then he took all the man's actions into account. He had resisted arrest and spoken back to a leader of an Order Keeping squadron. He had crossed the point of having any rights after that final and foolish decision.

"Vandals! Mischief makers!" a vendor howled.

The Commander immediately jerked his head in the direction of the commotion and Bijal held his breath. He did not want to be a witness to any more slaughter today.

"Furry thieves!" the man yelled.

Bijal, caught off guard by the new shout, turned to see who the screamer was. His mouth dropped open into an O. Monkeys were raiding vendors and snatching up fruits in their tiny hands. The men beside him were equally perplexed. He could tell by the awe in their eyes. Monkeys were believed to be extinct in this region of India. No longer had they been protected as being sacred animals. All religion had been outlawed by the new Government. It was considered beliefs that only made for conflict.

The monkeys brown fur was moist and had a human like luster. Their eyes, as black as storm clouds, flickered with intelligence. Bijal could not pry his own from theirs. He could not comprehend why the President had made it legal to slaughter them. So what if they stole fruit and occupied urban areas? They were only trying to survive. It was humans that were in their world.

"Shoot the animals!" the Commander barked.

Bijal and several other men only stared at him. How could he live with himself if he played a part in the extinction of a species? He raised his rifle anyway. Any sign that he was denying an order could result in prison time or unsurprisingly, public execution.

"You're clear to engage!" the Commander barked as his handgun went off. Melons in a crate that a monkey had been standing on became a pink mist as the bullet shredded through them. The gray haired man behind the stand cried out as he ducked for cover.

Concentrated crackles boomed left and right as the Order Keepers took aim at the monkeys. The animals were amazing agile and and just beyond the hit zones were mud erupted.

"Don't let the animals get away!" the Commander said, waving the men to pursue.

Bijal nodded along with the others and sprinted after the monkeys. The water pricked at his face like needles as he ran against it. He slowed down and raised his gun to eye level. As he peered through the sight he fired. He was hitting mud. He would not pull the trigger with such beautiful creatures in his sights.

As Bijal squinted at the animals he saw that many of them held fruits in their hands or had them clamped in their jaws. The animals had heart. A virtue that made for the will to survive. They weaved around civilians and climbed over stands as they fled from him and the others.

"Watch your fire!" came the Commander's voice from behind.

Bijal bit his lip. The Commander probably didn't truly care about whether the people in their way became a casualty. He just wanted a good public image, as if he could make his act of murder fade away.

Bijal increased the length of his strides. He did not want to be anywhere near the Commander. Number Five tripped and fell on his stomach a few paces in front of him. Bijal side stepped him and continued to run after the monkeys. Lightning dazzled the sky and thunder roared like a pride of lions.

It was only the cracks of automatic weapons that reminded him that he was being tasked with taking a part in extinction. He ground his teeth and cringed when a monkey's tiny body erupted in a spray of red and went limp on the ground. A single small purple fruit laid next to it.

"I'm dry!" Number Three said. He stopped and ejected his expended magazine.

As Bijal ran past he wondered what Number three had extinguished his ammunition on before the monkeys. Because surely he hadn't fired an entire thirty round clip while in a place swarming with civilians. He might never know. Questions did not have a place in the Order Keeping ranks, only obedience.

History rewound as Bijal dashed down the street. The buildings lost their pristine luster the deeper he penetrated the city. Bijal felt the urge to stop and taken in the harmonious ambiance that his surroundings seemed to radiant. With rain pouring around him, the old India was like a dream. It was as if it were never taken over by a dictator.

But a ruffled poster of the President plastered on a wall served as a warning that such thinking could cost him his freedom or even his life. Bijal coiled his fingers around his gun when the monkeys vanished into an alley. The animals had unknowingly cornered themselves. Because that alley only led to a circular opening where a fountain once spewed water. A twenty foot high wall blocked on the other side blocked any escape.

"We have them now!" Number Two said. His words made the other Order Keepers slow their pace until it was a brisk jog. They clearly knew that it was about to end soon.

"And they say those animals are our ancestors," the Commander said. "What an insult Darwin has made toward the human race."

Bijal shivered. He hoped it looked like it was from the frigid rain and not from his fear.

"Number Seven?" the Commander said.

Bijal did not look at the Commander nor did he slow down, but he said, "Yes Sir?"

"How do you feel about clean up?" he said coldly.

Bijal hesitated. "If that is what you ask of me than I shall see to it." He did not want to hear the Commander's answer and picked up his pace. He could see the vague outline of the monkey's silhouettes through the rain and shadow of the alley. Beyond them was the slaughter pit. But before they reached it some sprang onto pipes that slithered up the valley walls. They climbed up them with the speed of acrobats.

Monkeys that held fruit in their hands continued to run forward. A gun was fired once and a monkey plopped on the ground with a thud; chips of wall fragments poured down.

"They're getting away!" Number Five said as he scanned the walls with his gun.

Bijal craned his neck and saw tiny bouncing bodies along the roofs.

"Silence Number Five!" the Commander said. His gun went off and a monkey's agonized cry came from above. "Don't they know that this isn't their habitat?"

Just before the men ahead of him burst into the open the rain bore down down with a new furry. It was so fierce that it pressed down on his water proof hat. The prickling was enough to drive him mad. But Bijal ignored it and pushed forward. He stopped running completely and simply walked toward the other men who were still.

They were as still as statues. Bijal wondered what had made them halt in such a way. He had expected a clatter of gunshots to be tearing at his ears the moment they had reached this place. But the only sound was that of the storm.

"What are you expendables doing standing around?" The Commander demanded.

There was no response from the motionless men. The rain continued to pour on them, and yet, they did not stir. Bijal approached them and gazed down the circular floor at the end of the stairs. He gasped and loosened his painful grip on the gun. Below were two shivering bone thin children in raggedy clothes pressed up against a broken fountain. The smallest was a girl that could be no older than four. Beside her was a boy of about six, but it was impossible to be sure because he was so malnourished that he could have possibly been older. They were using the stretched out edges to shield themselves from the rain. But what astounded him was that the monkeys were around them, as if giving them warmth.

"You disappoint me," the Commander said, "all of you. Can't you follow a simple order?"

"Sir, you can't expect us to fire when their are children in proximity of the targets," Number Four said.

"Children who are already dead," the Commander said. "Look at them, they look like little ghosts."

"Sir," Bijal said. "Do you not have a heart?" Bijal blinked, feeling tears mix with the rain on his face.

"Every second that it beats, I wonder why there are so many like you," he said. "Now, you will all kill the animals or all of you will have to serve as your own attorneys back at HQ. But never forget, you're all just numbers. You have no real purpose other than to serve, and yet you fail."

"Look," Bijal said. He gestured to the surrounding buildings where tiny monkey heads peered out from roofs, and then finally their entire bodies were perched on the edges. They were all peering down at the fountain. One of them dropped a fruit and it landed a few feet from the two kids. Miraculously, it hadn't disinterested the moment it struck the ground. Then the monkeys that were huddled around around the kids held out there fruits.

The children only looked at them with vacant stares. But then the small girl reached out and took one of their offerings. She turned it over in her hands as if it were the rarest of gem stones before she brought it to her mouth and took a bite. But she only took one, and handed it over to the boy. He shook his head and pointed to another monkey that was offering him another fruit.

Bijal fell on his knees as fruits rained down from the rooftops. He was witnessing one of humanity's greatest virtues play out in the animal kingdom. Compassion. It had been too long since he had seen or heard of anything but violence and death. But today, as the heavens weeped water and fruit, he could see that the world hadn't been completely purged in darkness. There was still hope.

Bijal closed his eyes and searched for bravery, and then he turned around. Walking into the distance was the Commander. Bijal bent his head and wept. But he felt no shame, for they were not tears of sorrow, but of happiness. Something that had only been heard of in history.

Bijal picked himself up off the ground, steadying himself on the shoulder of Number Six and turned to face the Commander one last time. The Commander stopped and did an about face turn and their eye's met. It was clear in the deep recesses of his pupils. Defeat. They stared into each other as the rain mercilessly pounded on them.

Bijal raised and hand and saluted his Commander. As much as he loathed the man, he knew that the Commander had not chosen his life for himself. The man had been raised in a life of deception. To him, humans, while the only form of life deemed to have the right to exist, only those that held power could choose for themselves. Everybody else was no more than a dog, bred only to follow orders. He snapped his head around and stalked off into the alley.

Bijal stared after him, watching him fade into the darkness. Bijal skimmed the ranks and noted that almost everyone had been watching the Commander.

"Where do you think he's going?" Number Four said, looking directly at him.

"He's searching for a place to hide," Bijal answered.

"What... do you mean, Number Seven?" Number Four said.

"Please, call me Bijal."

Number Four looked at him speculatively for a moment before nodding. "Bijal," he started, the word seeming to lodge in his throat. "What did you mean by he's looking for somewhere to hide?"

"The Commander fears his new perspective on life. He has seen what we are all capable of."

"But-" Number Six began.

"He is afraid of the inevitable," Bijal said as he directed his attention at the children who were eating away at the fruits offered by the monkeys as if it would be their last meal.

"The inevitable?" Number Four said in what was almost a whisper.

"Don't lie to yourself, you already understand what it means. You've just been fed so much propaganda that it's been buried. But if you desire to look for it, it will reveal itself."

Bijal released his hold on his gun and let it clatter on the wet ground. It was followed by a chorus of metallic thumps. Bijal did something that he couldn't remember doing since his youth. He smiled. It was a new feeling. Using muscles that were trained to be motionless. The Order Keeping Force seemed to pride itself on having expressionless soldiers who showed none of their own feelings. But today, he and his new true allies had defeated the system.

It was all thanks to his friends from the animal kingdom. The Commander had been conquered by the monkey's reaching out to the dying children. They had something he did not. The power to love.

"Let's go friends," Bijal said.

"Go where?" several mean asked at once.

"Make change by living life," he said before he tread to the alley, walking with a true purpose, not because he was ordered to march forward. It was such a wonderful feeling. Setting one foot in front of the other at his own will. He, the other men, and without their knowledge the monkeys and children had defeated Akshay Harsha's system. But the President still wielded the power. Bijal knew that he would be ready to obliterate any resistance, but he wasn't afraid. Human virtues were mightier than any war machine.