I: A Chorus for Chicago

The Steel Factory was a massive building, of hallways, rooms, offices, and factory floors teeming with machinery. It had been two months of fighting for it. It was bloody, violent, every hallway was a mess of bullet holes and dismembered limbs. But the Feds had, against all resistance, almost taken the building at 2:1 casualty rates. Much of the last of SPA resistance was holed up in the control room for the machinery, although they also held some of the upper floors and offices, allowing them to prevent reinforcements and fire upon armored vehicles with AT rifles, or drop Petrol and Pipe bombs. The SPA still controlled the streets around the building, at least. But they no longer had reinforcement, and they were down to the numbers of about a half-strength platoon. They had stayed here, willingly, because they had realized something; they could block Federal access to the Capitol Building via this street, if only they had the material for the barricades.

And then, they realized that they had quite the stock of TNT left.

George and Lena toss the last of the TNT against a support pillar. They are both bleeding, shot by the M1 Garands once held by the now dead feds in the room. It’s a dusty room; the ventilation stopped working when the artillery support came raining down on the city. So much for preserving the industry; now it’s all spattered in guts.

“Think Chicago will ever recover?” Says Lena, as they both hobble back to the control room, through a hallway of dead Americans, whether they fought under the socialist banner or the federal banner.

“No.”

“Oh…”

The rest of the walk is silent, except for a few sobs from George.

The control room is surrounded by dead Americans. Socialists, Federals, does the difference matter at this point? They are all covered in soot, in blood, in bullet wounds, in promises of a better world. Some of them are fresh; the Feds across the room must have tried another assault again.

Lena locks the door behind her as George collapses onto a chair. “Okay, did everyone get their explosives wired up?”

Isaac, Orrman, Joseph, Mizuki, Madeline, Larry, and Maria, are all bleeding, too. They were also shot at, and they were lucky; the others are lying right now with a bullet in their chest and their rifle by their side. But, the ones who returned can say that they did manage to set all their bombs.

“Then it’s settled.” Says Lena. “We’ll get out by the fire escape, and let the bombs go off.”

“That’s the problem, actually… says Orrman. “One of the Feds got away. He probably told the others, too. We need to defend the detonator while it’s being touched off, or else they can just cut it.”

Lena and George look at each other. Then back to the others.

“Can we have a second?”

They both step outside the control room, and into the now-silent furnace room.

“Lena, I-”

“No, you need to live. I’ll do it.”

“Why should I live? You have our child in you, you deserve to survive.”

“I don’t want our baby to grow up without a father, George.”

“I don’t want to die knowing that my wife didn’t have a chance to-”

There’s a knock on the door.

“We- uh, we’re busy!”

“Neither of you needs to die.”

Joseph opens the door and wipes his trademark sunglasses clean using his shirt. “We all knew you’d both want to try to sacrifice yourselves. Don’t worry, we’re going to do it.”

Spindly Isaac, short Orrman, tall Mizuki, cowgirl Madeline, jewish Larry, and old woman Maria, all flank Joseph as he stands in the doorway. “The two of you both deserve to live for another day.” says Mizuki. “Escape. Find a new home. Live a life that doesn’t end here. We’re going to cover you.”

“But you-”

“Young lady.” says Maria, “We’ve lived our lives. The two of you want to start one. You don’t deserve to end that all here. Neither one of you.”

Madeline speaks up; “This is for the future of us all, not just the present moment. We will not be remembered if there is no one to pass our memories to.”

“We fought well, for a world we believed in. We’ll have died, fighting for that same future.” adds Larry.

“A socialist future!” says Orrman. “A world without hunger, without capitalism, where all are accepted and all are free from the pain which courses through the veins of the world now.”

“We may have failed, but, you guys, and especially your little bun in the oven,” Isaac gestures to Lena’s stomach, “You guys have a chance to succeed.”

“So, comrades.” concludes Joseph, putting his sunglasses back on. “Let us die a fighting death, so you can die in the world we fought for.”

Lena is speechless, and George is welling up with tears. “G-guys, I-”

“You don’t need to say anything. Just go, you two kids.”

He smiles at the couple, as a shout goes up from the other side of the building. He turns to look in its direction, and turns back to George and Lena.

“Shit, that’s their attack. Out the back fire escape, go, go!”

Lena and George say goodbye to everyone, take some items which their comrades want them to take care of, and take off, through the halls of the building, as Browning Automatic Rifle fire pierces the factory floor.

It’s been half an hour, and Joseph is now pinned down under machinegun fire, as are the others. They’ve killed all the Feds they can here.

“Well, that’s that. Anyone up for a final song?”

The Federals in the building do not know it, but this is the last song they’ll ever hear:

Arise, ye prisoners of starvation!

Arise, ye wretched of the earth!

For justice thunders condemnation:

A better world's in birth!

No more tradition's chains shall bind us;

Arise, ye slaves, no more in thrall!

The earth shall rise on new foundations:

We have been nought, we shall be all!

So comrades, come rally,

And the last fight let us face!

The Internationale

Unites the human race!

So comrades, come rally,

And the last fight let us face!

The Internationale

Unites the human race!

Joseph sets off the TNT.

George and Lena have said nothing as they wander through the wrecked streets of Chicago, dodging gunfire. But, once the Steel Factory goes up in a painfully loud explosion, they know what has become of their comrades. Lena has nothing to say and only silently cries, but George is despondent with grief. They embrace for the memory of their friends, as SPA tanks and infantry rush to cut off the now blocked Federal Advance. Their comrades, in giving their lives for the cause of Socialism, had blocked not just the streets nearest to them, but also destroyed buildings all along the block, almost completely halting the advance against the town hall. The battle of Chicago was prolonged, yes, but this allowed SPA troops, leaders, and civilians to evacuate the city a little more, including their good friends, George and Lena.

It’s an uncertain future for them, but as long as there are people willing to fight for it, one day it will be achieved. For now, let it be known that they would survive, and with them, the eternal memories of their comrades, their martyrs, but above all, their friends who loved them.