Displaced

Chapter 76

The harmonies of millions of voices humming and singing filled the Stragman rainforest as an entire civilization traveled through the thick foliage to the site of their next home. Rudra Kapadia did his best to join in, though he didn't know words or notes to the seemingly endless tune the way everybody else seemed to. The song, referred to by the Stragmans as "the beacon" or "the beacon song" seemed to be an age-old tradition from many centuries ago.

As far as Rudra could tell, there had been two purposes to singing the beacon song. The first could be found right there in the name: to act as a beacon for hunting parties and other groups that split off from the main procession, helping them relocate the city as it moved. The second was that it would help ward off threats; making some noise in the forest was a great way to summon predators, but making a hell of a lot of noise would help drive them away.

Both these reasons helped illustrate the nature of Rudra's frustrations with Stragman society. The beacon song was likely very useful back in the day, back when their civilization was a small fraction of its current size. Now, it just seemed like a monumental waste of energy. Over ten million people moving through a forest while carrying their entire city on their backs made more than enough noise to scare away predators and guide hunting groups back, but that didn't seem to matter. Stragman civilization prized tradition over sense, in his opinion. The issue with Shells was perhaps the largest example, but it was only one of many.

With a casual flex of his arms, Rudra lifted the massive bundle of logs and other materials up slightly to keep them from clipping on a large exposed tree root. Though it had been many months since his arrival, he still couldn't get used to his herculean strength. Perhaps the reason for that was how little he used it, having spent the vast majority of his time sitting in a cell. Either way, it still boggled his mind that he was capable of absurd feats of strength such as this. If only he'd possessed such physical prowess on Earth, back when he'd worked construction.

In a society filled with people capable of some degree of super strength, Rudra overshadowed them all. Naturally, such a display drew stares from everyone. He could feel the eyes of the people nearby burning into the back of his head and tried to ignore them as best he could, but there was no getting around the fact that being stared at like this bothered him.

Many of the looks he received were glares of displeasure, ranging from irritation to anger to full-on hate. Such looks were to be expected. He'd become the icon of the Shell liberation movement, and everybody who had problems with the idea of Shells getting more rights would naturally see him as the target of their ire. Luckily, the average citizen would have trouble getting to him even now that he was out of his cell, as a group of fierce-looking guards walked with him at all times.

Either way, those looks, while somewhat disquieting, were to be expected. Change bothered people, especially people benefiting from the status quo. He'd known from the start that his actions would engender a great amount of grievance from a large swath of the Stragman public, and as such these looks didn't bother him too deeply. They were simply part of the price of change.

However, there were other stares: hope-filled, worshipful looks he saw coming from many of his fellow Shells. Unlike the antagonistic gazes from the other castes, these troubled him to his core. They were a constant reminder of the burden he'd put on himself, a burden taken on without really knowing if he was up to the task. Rudra had never wanted to be a hero or an icon. It had never been in his personality. But here he was, having basically made promises of a better life to an entire group of people. Could he even succeed? What even was success at this point? Would a compromise that lessened suffering but didn't get rid of it entirely constitute success? This wasn't something he knew much about or had any prior experience in, and it made him feel like he was flying blind through unknown territory.