by Kyle Aho
“So, since I don’t have to pay you anyways, I managed to get almost everything I wanted for one third of the cost. I would thank you but that is only a small part of what you owe me,” he said, looking Dante in his one good eye. Dante fought the rising bile in his throat. They stared at each other for a moment.
“I think you should give the other two thirds of the payout to the remaining operative, Alistair Preest,” Dante said.
“I don’t care what you think,” Sirus riposted, “and it would only be one third, your stowaway was never in the original contract.”
Dante raised an eyebrow.
Sirus grinned, “I’m not sure how she did it but your friend Apate managed to find out about the mission and sneak herself onto the transport vessel. Very resourceful, that one. Too bad she died. I will mention that I am disappointed you neglected to give me the child. You gave me a sample of his blood but not the child himself. Why is that?”
Dante cleared his throat. “That poor kid has gone through enough, I wasn’t about to let you ruin his life any more. Use the blood to get what you need but leave him alone.”
“I wasn’t aware that it was your decision. Do you understand the kind of destruction that child can bring? He is a carrier of a very volatile parasite-”
“He is immune, we don’t even know if-”
“I wasn’t finished,” Sirus said, piercing Dante with a look that made his throat clench shut. “Which, if I didn’t own the antidote, would be a very bad business decision.”
Dante remained silent.
“That being said, I still need to keep track of him. Where is he?”
Dante remained silent.
They glared at each other for a long moment.
“Your facial reconstruction will begin downstairs in an hour,” Sirus said at length, before going back to looking at something on his desk.
“Why did you do it?” Dante asked. Sirus looked up. “Why did you allow that parasite to live even after you saw what it was doing?”
“Don’t be stupid Dante. Because things like that make a lot of money. Do you have any idea how many organizations are willing to pay for biological warfare? More importantly, do you have any idea how many organizations are willing to pay for the cure to biological warfare?
“Armed with a weapon that I could control would allow me to usher in the rise and fall of entire countries, entire planets even. A simple bank transfer could exterminate an entire race, while another transfer could prevent it. I would literally be a god. Entire solar systems would be at the mercy of someone’s bank account. The possibilities would have been staggering. They still might be if I can retrieve that hard drive.”
“What about the rest of the planet? You’re just going to let them die as the parasite keeps spreading from the mines?”
“Of course not, I’m no fool. I’ll sell them the antidote. We’ll simply instate new laws regarding safety in the mines and treat cases as they occur. If people wish to be proactive and get vaccinated early, that is their decision.”
Dante continued to fight the rising bile in his throat. He was ashamed to be a part of the same lineage as this man.
“Your clone has been prepped for the face transplant, Sia can show you the way,” Sirus finished.
Dante walked from his father’s office and took the elevator to the sixty-third floor. While waiting for his facial reconstruction to begin, Dante pulled out his holo-pad and sent a gift to a good friend.
Alistair Preest watched the boy play by himself in the corner and wondered if he would ever become well-adjusted after the atrocities he had been subjected to. It was much too early to tell, of course, but the thought still burdened him. He rolled himself around his dilapidated orphanage in a wheelchair and started to plan what renovations he was going to make with the money he earned from the job.
He had already bought a nice supply of food and even managed to get his hand on some things that weren’t genehanced, a treat for his kids. He bought some projectors and a bunch of Dante’s older holo flicks. They were cheesy and violent but the kids loved them. He felt they deserved it. Some of them were rough around the edges but they were products of their environment and were good at heart. Alistair liked to think he would help them stay that way.
A group of kids were imitating Rex Hammar as he shot aliens around their projection area. They made gun noises and other sound effects as they ran around killing holograms with their favorite action hero. Rex cradled a woman in his arms and jumped through a window just in time for an explosion to go off behind him. He landed a conveniently safe distance away from the destruction and chewed on a cigar as he squinted into the sunlight.
“Oh Rex!” the damsel said in a husky tone. Several children parroted her and gave their most dramatic swoon as she did the same. Rex nodded and spit out his cigar.
“Who loves you baby?” Rex said before they embraced in a passionate kiss.
Alistair’s lap buzzed and he looked down to see a new message from a proxy account of some kind. He opened the message and saw a deposit had been made to his bank account from a private account for ten million credits.
He shrugged and deleted the message. It was probably a scam. He glanced up and saw another child, Gayle, trying to play with Raza but he was shy and reluctant. She eventually took his hand and led him to a group of other children who did their best to welcome him into their social circle. Alistair smiled.
His lap buzzed again. He opened this message and realized that the first one was not a scam. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words and reality hit him like a nova grenade. The simple four-word message warmed him and made all the pain go away as ideas flooded into his head for his and his orphans’ future. The message read:
“Who loves you baby?”
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Acknowledgements
Thank you to Patrick for putting up with me.
Thank you to my family and friends for support.
Thank you to my teachers for all your wisdom and guidance.
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