Sixteenth PSI

[a_gentle_boy]

[For most of the summer, torturous sounds have been coming from the music room of the school during the late afternoons.  After deciding the recorder was a bust, Lucas had moved on to the violin, the trumpet, and the flute, passing through each one and deciding in short order that he had better stop for the good of humanity.  It was only about about three weeks ago that he had decided to try his hand at the piano sitting dusty and forgotten in the corner.

He had seen something like it before, with the DCMC.  Duster had taught him a little about instruments while they'd been traveling -- He'd even been allowed to pluck a little at Duster's bass.  And, of course, there'd been that whole business with feeling the beat of the enemy's life force.  This didn't mean that he knew anything about playing instruments.  The futility of the summer had proved that.  Yet . . . when he'd begun to plonk away at the keys . . . something just clicked.  Sure, the torturous sounds continued.  But after a little while . . . they at least began to resolve themselves into something vaguely resembling a song.

It was a song he wouldn't forget soon.  The song that had played in that room . . . The song that meant . . .   And with his last meeting with Vince still fresh in his mind, Lucas somehow thought he knew what the song was trying to say.]

Do you hear me call to you?  Can you even hear my heart's cry?
Still I call out to the wind . . . Even as it flows on by, for
I believe our dreams can still come true.  I'll always keep my faith and trust in you

Even if I'm a fool, I'll always feel the same about you.  I believe in friends and laughter and the wonders love can do; I believe in second chances and that's why I still believe in you.

 . . . . . . i . . . believe in second chances . . . . . . .

[Later that night, he returns to the park and sings his song quietly with a good sense of pitch.  He is wearing his school clothes from last year.  They are too small for him.
Time moves on.]

((Feel free to comment while Lucas is practicing on the piano as well. He will sound pretty awful unless he's playing this song.))

Comments

[an-zero.livejournal.com]

[. . .]

I wouldn't have died of old age or anything that humans have to eventually deal with, but I'm not immortal. Not by a long shot.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

What do robots have to deal with?

[an-zero.livejournal.com]

Our destiny to be rendered obsolete and tossed into the scrap heap. Being labeled inferior citizens and retired by humans. Wondering if we are alive enough to considered life.

...I've met a lot of robots with a lot of difficult problems.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

. . . I kind of meant 'how do robots die' but that's pretty depressing, too. People shouldn't make robots at all if they're going to treat them that way.

[an-zero.livejournal.com]

Heh. Those are how we die. Well, most have died in the wars, I guess.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

People definitely shouldn't be making them if they're just to fight in wars.

[an-zero.livejournal.com]

That inevitably, for a time, became our sole purpose of existence.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

It's always the same way, huh . . . ? It's not, anymore, though? That's good . . .

[an-zero.livejournal.com]

...Yeah. Things have changed. Home is in the hands of a great hero I have a lot of faith in; I know she'll make it a much better place.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

Then I hope your world will be just the way you want it to be when you get home, mister.

[an-zero.livejournal.com]

[. . .When he gets home.]

I don't doubt it would be.