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"You know what's wrong here, Liz? With this whole situation? It's not the killing. I mean, sure, that's bad, but the real evil is that they took our freedom. They took our futures. Danya took away our right to decide what happens to us."

"And you did exactly the same thing."


Those words echoed in Liz's head for a long time.

Liz was not a moralist. Ethics had never been something that came on more than an instinctive level for her. Sometimes things were right, sometimes things were wrong. Sometimes things were so wrong that you had to inconvenience yourself making them right, because no one else would. All of this came instinctively to her, a morality she'd learned, it seemed, from nowhere.

So this was the first time she had to think about such things. Albiet, between corpses and guns, it wasn't easy.

"So," she said. "I'm a killer."

It seemed correct to say it, somehow, not write it. And after the water, her throat hurt less.

She looked up at Kimberly for confirmation. Kimberly would know these things.

Kimberly nodded. Smiled.

"And you're saying I'm no better or worse than any of the other killers on the island?" Liz was speaking quietly. Trying not to hurt her throat.

Kimberly was silent this time. Perhaps she didn't want to give Liz any help.

Liz thought for a while. Her hands hurt less, so she used the chance to lean back and find a more comfortable position on the rock.

Finally she spoke, checking her throat before she did so. "I guess I'm okay with that."

Kimberly looked very taken aback. "Really?"

But Liz wasn't looking at Kimberly now. Liz was looking up. This was an intellectual problem now. Maybe Kimberly could help her, but first she had to puzzle it out in her own mind.

"I guess…I guess I would have liked it better if I could have been a good person. Especially at the end of my life. It seems like a nice thing to end your life as." Liz's words were coming slowly, reluctant and thoughtful. Morals were not as clearcut as proofs, but you could work with them the same way--a premise, an answer, and the steps to get there. "I've never really thought of myself as a real person, and being a good person is part of that. But I haven't really had to choose until now. I didn't have the power to effect anything important. I certainly didn't mean to, this time. I just wanted to survive."

That was tangential. What she wanted was tangential. It was what she had gotten that was interesting.

"But I burnt my throat and they have Mr. Kwong, and I'm not going to be able to go back to University, no matter how I play this. And I don't think--no, I'm sure they're not going to let him go, either."

This was more complicated then she expected. Took a moment to collect her thoughts. Counted powers of three. Hid away thoughts of Mr. Kwong.

"So I suppose I could either be good, or I could mess up the terrorists as much as possible. If I were good right now, I'd kill myself, I think. I wouldn't put anybody else at risk. I think that's what being good is. But I decided it was more important to mess up the terrorists as much as possible. I guess because I'm mad. And I haven't got anything left to lose. So even if all I do is create black spots where other people can work in, I suppose I did something? I don't want to be ineffective."

Oh, that was disorganized. Time to wrap up.

"So I guess my…vengeance, if that's what it was? Has become more important than being a good person. Which is kind of sad. But it's true."

"So I suppose I'm a serial killer. I wish I wasn't. But it's better than the alternative."

All this seemed correct. As long as she didn't think of Mr. Kwong--Mr. Kwong and all his stupid hopes that she'd become a good person.

She didn't like disappointing him.

But it was too late now.

Alice Boucher was a liar.
Liz Polanski played with fire.

And who the hell is Radio Asuka?
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Blackout · The Tunnels