Socrates the Madman - Chapter Six

The stroll back from the casino was a relaxing one - the rubble had an oddly homely feel that day. The feeling when all secrets were cast away, and there was nothing left to hide; there was only work to be done. The simplicity of ruin was truly underappreciated.

Socrates walked on through the barren landscape, as sunlight began to wash the sky in blue above him. Still flipping Silverdeath's golden coin, he made his way back to the train station.

Taking a seat on the lone platform bench, he sat back, exhaling smoke from his cigarette. Suddenly, a wave of shame gripped him, and he buried his face in his hands, sighing. Silverdeath was right. He was an asshole.

Wiping his hand across his cheeks, he looked out across the open desert. And his mind began to slip, ever so slightly, into a world he had long since forgotten.

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He stood atop the edge of a building, as he had a habit of doing in his youth. The mundane city crawled along below, each human an insect from the sky's view. It was extremely gratifying to those with courage in their hearts.

"Hey!" A childish voice rang out behind him. "Get down from there!"

Quinn turned around on the spot, earning a fearful gasp from his spectator. The boy who had called out to him had a nervous look as he stared at Quinn rocking from side to side in the breeze.

"Come on, Quinn." The boy's eyes pleaded in fear. "Get down before you get hurt."

Quinn flashed a cocky smile. "Get down? Which way, exactly, should I go down?" He jabbed a thumb to the empty air behind him, relishing the boy's expression as his face blanched.

"S-seriously, Quinn," The boy stammered, "just get down from there."

"Have it your way, Luke." Quinn shrugged, and hopped down from the ledge, dusting off his pants after he landed.

Luke shook his head and chuckled, still a little rattled. "You're insane, you know that?"

"How do you know that? Maybe I'm just incredibly brave."

A look of annoyance briefly crossed Luke's face. Quinn silently noted it before speaking. "So, what're you doing here? I thought you were having a double date today."

Luke blushed bright red. "It's not...I'm not..."

Quinn stared at him, grinning at his discomfort.

Shaking his head, Luke continued. "Anyway, Arthur sent me to get you."

"And you just left him? We can't trust Arthur around women, you know."

"Actually," Luke said, his eyes gleaming with excitement, "we found something. At the junkyard."

"You had a double date at the junkyard?"

"It wasn't my idea!" Luke waved his hands as if to dispel the suspicion. "You should come see it for yourself. I think you'll like what you find."

"Hm." Quinn rubbed his chin, mulling it over for a moment. "Alright, I'll go." He turned and made for the edge of the building.

"You're kidding!"

"Of course I am." Turning, Quinn raced back to the roof door. "Come on, we'll take the stairs."

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Socrates yanked himself back from the memory, sitting up abruptly. Looking around, he could still see the desolate train platform around him.

Easing back into his seat, he sighed through his nose. His cigarette was lying on the ground next to him. Must have fallen when he fell asleep. 

Scratching his head, he withdrew another one from his pocket, opting to light it with his flamethrower this time. Taking a deep drag of smoke, he tilted his head back, gazing up at the unblemished azure canvas above him. 

No, it wouldn't do any good to dwell upon the past now. Nothing lay there for him, the joy of youth overshadowed by the pain of the present. And yet, looking unto the future was an equally disheartening process.

He was still shaking his head, chuckling in despair when the train pulled in. The Devil's Express looked a lot less menacing in the daytime. 

Standing up with some effort, Socrates headed towards the train as the doors spilled open. Looking up into the car, he saw the driver, eyes wide with fear, stuttering, his cigar bouncing around in his mouth. He opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cut him off.

"It's been a while, Quinn."

Socrates jerked back in surprise. He recognized that voice. Squinting, he could barely make out a head, poking through the doorway from the passenger car. And then the rest of the man came into view.

At first glance, it would've seemed like a ghost wearing a suit. But looking a little closer, he could faintly make out the refined features of a gentleman. It was as though his skin was a perpetual chameleon, but Socrates knew the truth. The man was completely transparent. 

The confirmation struck home, and a mental list began to rattle off in Socrates' head. Silicon Model and Assistant Researcher for Project Alchemy, 002-

"Tell me, how are you?" Luke sneered imperceptibly. "I've just been dying to see you again."

President of the United States, Luke Rallen, Socrates finished grimly.