Akbar

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Thirty/Fourteen had turned his bike's power off. The exertion of pushing on the pedals helped to mask his confusion and fury. Bing kept calling him Akbar. Back when he was a nameless child, it meant nothing to him, but now that he was a grown man, he found it offensive.

It was not an unflattering name or even one that was uncommon in the region to which he was born. The name meant 'power,' and was shared by a great king and military strategist. Bing likely admired the conquests of that king and wanted to gift his young ward with a great name. It was not Thirty's choice.

As a child, he had no way to process what it meant to be a slave. He did what he was told to avoid beatings. He served the cleric and his wives. He never knew his mother or father. They told him he had been given away. It was a dark time, but he didn't see it that way while he was in it. To him, it was just life. If the adults around him were less cruel, he might not have left with Bing. Once he did so, however, his mind opened to the possibility of a completely new life in a new world. He didn't want to be tied to his past by his name, so he chose a name that, to him, meant freedom from slavery. Hearing Bing use that nickname meant he would always think of Thirty as the little slave boy he found.

Thirty powered up the hill. He was breathing heavily now and sweating. The others were falling away behind him, even with their electric motors. ["Want to talk about it?"] It was Mem. ["No,"] Thirty replied.

It was more than his past in captivity that bothered him. Once he'd settled into his new life in Westchester and grown a little, he chose to make it his mission to be useful. He learned to cook and he quickly became good at it. Now it seemed to him he was duplicating his role as a slave boy in a new situation. Of course, he was no longer held captive, but he was still trying to please everyone to avoid the consequences of being useless. Useless people were thrown away. They begged for scraps in the gutter until they starved to death or died from infection. He would not be thrown away like that. While he served the tribe, he thrived.

And so, Bing's insinuation that he might end up useless after all, just because of a few gray hairs, shook him. He was loved and cared for in Reverside. Would they simply cast him aside as he got older? Did he really need to stay young and beautiful to keep his place in the tribe? It was true that some people had left the Interconnected as they aged, but he assumed they were headed somewhere better. He never questioned where they went. Perhaps there was nowhere for them to go. They faded from view and were forgotten.

No doubt, during his absence, someone else had stepped in to take his place in the kitchen. Was it Yadael? Nicholas? Was it Nora? He could have found out in a second, but he didn't want to know.

Nora was nearly as old as he, if not older. She posed no long-term threat to him. As he neared the top of the rise, his pedaling slowed. The thought of being replaced had converted his anger to dread. Fear sapped the power from his legs, and he sank back into his saddle to grind out the last hundred meters in grim determination.

["Wait at the top. We're taking a break,"] Mem commanded. Thirty was exhausted anyway, so he resisted the urge to coast, dropped his bike and staggered off the road to lie in the weeds.

["Are we going to talk about this?"] thexted Londra, the leader of the ninjas.

["That was toto zonky. You knew that guy?"] sent Tinker.

["I should have clobbered him,"] thexted Zha-Zha.

Timo was carrying the water bags. He filled a cup for Billie and Mem and offered one to Thirty/Fourteen. ["He seemed pretty sure of himself,"] he sent to the group.

Thirty rose and gulped at his water. ["Yeah, that's just the way he is,"] he replied.

["That cult of his is planning something,"] Mem thexted. ["Actually, it seems they already planned something a while ago and now they're doing it. They want to bring the government back. They want the tribes to join them. Have any of you heard about this?"]

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