"Have I told you the legend shared among our people?" he asked me. We stood in his underground chamber, one of many in our people's subterranean city.
"Which one?" I asked in response. I was honestly curious, as there are many legends shared among our species of mole people.
"The story of how our ancestors were the first species to have the courage to control fire, and how we were enlightened with knowledge as a result," he said.
"Yes, you have mentioned this many times." I responded.
"Our technology has always been what sets us apart. And we must use it to enlighten the surface dwellers." he proclaimed.
"And that is why you are running to lead us?" I asked.
"Yes. And how can we possibly do that when we can't even be free to walk above ground?" He asked rhetorically.
"But you're an engineer, not a politician." I pointed out.
"I learned enough about politics all that time I spent saving you." he grunted.
"Yes," I said, holding my clawed hand close to my heart. "And for that I am grateful. But I don't think your plans are what is best for our people."
"Pure and foolish as always. You still have the heart of a little girl." he said, taunting me.
"You are the one who doesn't understand love." I replied.
"But, my love for you is why you were reunited with your people. Because I worked to rescue you."
"Your plans are too aggressive. You seek to control the surface dwellers, not just live among them." I shouted back at him.
"And after their actions took everything from you, the ones who wronged you should go unpunished?" I felt a deep pain in my heart when he said this. That, and a stinging sensation across my upper back.
"This just doesn't feel right." I said hesitantly.
"What?" he asked in a concerned tone.
"All of it. You are so much older than me and yet act like we are lovers. You use my suffering to fuel hate. Your plans for the future sound more like revenge than true progress." I ranted.
"Six years isn't that much of a gap, Goldie," he replied.
"I'm only fourteen," I remarked.
"And look at how much you have grown since I saved you from that awful wolf," he said.
"You say that as if all wolves are as nasty as Silvery. You can't blame a whole species like that," I explained.
"You were in roots and rags before I negotiated your release, and this is how you thank me?" he fumed.
"Root fibers with metal plates woven in were what my family was wearing that night," I stated as I started to sob uncontrollably. I felt his hand gently brush up against my back in an effort to comfort me, and I instinctively jolted away from him in pain. "Don't touch me there!" I snapped.
"It still hurts?" he asked.
"In more ways than one," I whimpered.
"I can't imagine what it must be like to have gone through all that at such a young age," he whispered.
"If you really understood me, you wouldn't be plotting war with the surface dwellers." I stated, wiping tears from my eyes.
"Well, yes, that is the plan for ten years from now." he mentioned.
"That's not the point." I sighed. "We can do this without violence."
"You're as much of a dove as your name suggests," he quipped. "As if you forget what our claws are for. Haven't your peaceful ways only given you pain and suffering?"
"Yet I stand here free," I asserted.
"You should be more grateful to me for that," he replied. "How can we enlighten the surface dwellers if they restrict our right to live above ground?"
"Enlighten, or enslave?" I asked.
"They won't listen to us if we don't show force," he replied. "And what makes you think you know anything about enlightenment?"
"Well, I am not so arrogant to think I'm the one they built a temple to honor 91 kilometers south of the Ganges." I shouted.
"You're the one who got religion into this conversation," he snarled. "If you don't like my plans for our country, why not seek shelter on some other continent under the guard of a green lioness."
He typed in something on a keyboard and above a large red sphere a volumetric projection emerged. It depicted a well known monument, a statue of a lioness, that is used as a symbol of a country a few continents away from our underground nation. "So that's what you mean" I said.
"This sort of technology is like thirty to fifty years away from surface dweller engineering. This is what I mean, what we have is the realm of science fiction to them." he said as I gazed at the floating red image slowly rotating above the projector. It was an incredibly detailed depiction of the landmark.
"You see her as welcoming me to the shores she guards?" I asked. Perhaps I was being too figurative in my speech with regards to the way I was talking about the statue. As I looked at the hovering render I noticed a tiny detail and gasped in awe. "Oh my heavens. Look below her foot!"
"What about it? I pulled up this file because that statue is a symbol of immigration."
"I know that. But could you zoom in on the image?" I asked.
"Sure," he said. He certainly was not at all shy about showing off his skill with machines. And so he pressed a few more keys and controls to make the projector focus on the area of the statue right above the pedestal. The familiar upper parts of it vanished and the detail I had become fixated on became more apparent.
"Are those, a broken set of chains?" I asked, having noticed a bit of overlooked imagery that strongly resonated with me.
"Of course someone like you would notice that," he snarked. Then, he pulled up a digitized scan from an old encyclopedia onto a flatscreen monitor nearby. He browsed through the article for half a minute and then remarked "well it does say the statue was initially built to honor the end of slavery in that country."
"Maybe both," I postulated. "She can have more than one meaning."
"If you like the ideals of that country so much, why not flee to New Cork yourself?" he asked sarcastically. "Although that would be impossible without crossing forbidden zones on the surface."
"Technology should be used to better the lives of people, not control them," I replied.
"Technology that you don't even fully understand how it works, child," he said.
"Well, I understand people a lot better than you do. Compassion seems to be foreign to your mind," I shouted.
"Your kind heart is well padded, but you still have the wide-eyed idealism of a child," he scolded.
I felt ashamed and angry at that remark. "Talk like that makes me think you don't really care about me. That you see me as another body to control rather than a person with her own free will," I shouted. "Part of me wants to slap you for saying that."
"You wouldn't. Such a threat is empty from the mouth of a pacifist," he volleyed back.
"It was not a threat. I don't give in to the kind of thinking that your mind seems to run on," I stated.
"What is that even supposed to mean?" he fumed.
"Something in my soul shines brighter than the fiery rage that fills your's," I proclaimed.
"And what would that be?" he asked.
"Love," I replied.
He laughed at my remark. "I knew you would say that, but I didn't want to interrupt your fairytale moment," he said sarcastically.
"You really don't get it, do you?" I asked rhetorically.
"No, please. Go on and amuse me with your childish sentiments that sound straight out of a movie. I enjoy listening to you ramble about things you don't comprehend," he taunted.
"Be that way!" I shouted. "However, I will show you yet what I know to be true. I'll be back."
"Of course you will come back to me, you have nowhere else to go." He said.
"Know that I still wish that peace be upon you," I concluded.
It may take years, but I firmly believe he will come to agree with my perspective. The path in life that enlightens us all is paved with peace and bound by love.
