As she was about to light it, she gave me a curious look and said, “it’s strange that the addiction is still with me, even though it’s been about fifteen years since I quit. Does addiction last for you when you reincarnate into a new body?”
I thought about it for a moment, but the drive to smoke wasn’t there anymore. “No.”
Akira shrugged and lit the cigarette, taking a long drag and blowing it out before coughing a few times.
“It’s…weird,” she said, looking to Yukiko and then turning away, anxiously prodding the bandage around her head again, “I hadn’t even really thought about smoking until this morning. Then I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
“If we’re out here to talk about our vices,” Laura said “we might be here for a while.”
“No…” Akira said, still facing away. After standing quiet for a moment she continued, “I was able to get back into the account I was using in Mexico. It had been cleaned out a little over a week ago, transferred to another account. I’m pretty sure that must have been Carlito. He’d be the most cautious one of them about our, er, their assets. But there was quite a bit of crypto in there just from payments still being made. He must not have taken that into account or something. Anyway, I’ve been able to get some good tech and start looking around,” she took another drag, savoring.
“Looking for what?” I asked.
“How to keep going on our mission,” Akira said, turning back around to face us, “looking for people to start distributing the extra chromosomes.”
“I’m…I’m sort of surprised you want to keep going,” I said, “I would have thought that all of that would dampen your-”
“I told you she could never stand still for too long,” someone said.
I turned to the door, seeing Masaru being wheeled out in a manual wheelchair by Doctor Taylor. A large cast encased his right leg, body still very thin, but otherwise he was looking much healthier than he had when we crossed the border. His skin regained its color, hair growing in thicker, and his characteristic smile returned.
“It’s good to see you out of the bed,” I said to Masaru, “how’s the pain?”
“Getting better all the time,” he said, “especially with all the drugs they’re giving me,” he smirked.
“I’ll trade you my sleeplessness for your crippled legs,” Laura said as Masaru took Yukiko’s hand from her. His daughter looked up at him with a smile that revealed understanding about his improved condition.
“Hopefully both can be fixed,” Masaru said, letting go of Yukiko’s hand and watching his daughter look around at everyone with a big grin.
“I’ll be dreaming of the day,” Laura said.
“You guys need anything else?” Doctor Taylor asked.
“That depends,” Masaru said, looking to me.
When I had seen him a couple days prior, just before going in for my eye surgery, he had broached the subject of bringing Doctor Taylor into our operation in a limited capacity. Both Masaru and Doctor Taylor had become attached to the rescued children, and Masaru said Doctor Taylor would almost certainly be willing to help with rescuing the remaining children.
“Are you busy?” I asked.
“Not for the moment,” she said, a spark of hopefulness replacing some of her fatigue.
“If you want to stick around, there might be something here you’d like to listen to,” I said.
Everyone looked to me, but there was less surprise on their faces than I would have expected. Akira took another drag of the cigarette and sighed, smoke billowing from her mouth.
“Are you sure she even wants to get involved?” Akira asked.
“I’m…I’m interested in hearin’ what you got to say,” the doctor said, standing up straighter.
“You saw how we were when we first got here,” Masaru said, turning his gaze to Akira, “nobody is asking you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”
Doctor Taylor was about to say something before she realized Masaru was addressing Akira as much as her.
Akira closed her eyes and shook her head. “If you had asked me when we first got here, I probably…I don’t know,” she said, looking off at the sky again, arms crossed, holding the lit cigarette by her shoulder, “I…I don’t know…how could we stop now? With everything we’ve…everything we’ve done.”
“Not only that,” Laura said, “but we are terrorists. I don’t think there is much of a retirement plan.”
“Is that the consensus about us?” I asked, looking to Doctor Taylor, a distracted look on her face as she stared at Akira.
“How’s that?” she asked, snapped back to the present.
“Is that what people consider us?”
“Terrorists, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“From what I seen since ya got here?” she said, making another quick glance to Akira, “Nah. You saved these children. A lotta folks around here weren’t even aware this trafficking ring goin’ on. At least nothin’ this big, anyway. Me included.”
“What did you think about us before that?” I asked, once again scratching at the itchy bandage wrapped around my head.
“Honestly? I really didn’t think about you before this,” she shrugged, “never been much of a news junky. I mean, I knew you guys existed. Most newscasts comin’ outta the CSA say you’re terrorists. They say you replaced cartel. That you smuggle Shift ‘cross the border. But, y’know, it’s pretty much taken for granted round here that the CSA news is half bullshit. But,” she exhaled slowly, “that’s about all I’d ever hearda you guys.”
“Our reputation precedes us,” Laura said.
“Are you willing to put yourself through that?” I asked, “The lies. The truth. Both can be grim.”
Doctor Taylor looked to Akira and then to Yukiko, who stared obliviously off at the distant mountains. The image of a family battered by our cause, yet not giving up on it. Something I couldn’t ask them to do, yet I was glad they were.
I’m the one who stands to gain or lose the most from what we can accomplish.
“I got two children uvmy own,” Doctor Taylor said, “they’re grown up now, but when I see these kids…it just breaks my heart thinkin’ about the families…and how these children been traumatized. I can’t imagine someone doin’ that. And…I dunno. I just can’t…I don’t wanna just sit around doin’ nothing, you know, knowing more of ‘em’re out there.” She sighed, “I’ve been takin’ on all these extra shifts cuz I wanna help these poor kids. But it ain’t just that. As tired as I am, when I tryta sleep…it’s like, all I can think about is that somewhere…somewhere close by, more of ‘em are suffering. And then I don’t know whether to cry or scream. And doin’ either of those won’t help anyone. I need to do somethin’, y’know? For the children. For my own children. For myself…”
I gave her a reassuring smile, “well, that’s exactly what we’re going to do,” I said, “at least ten more houses, Darren says.”
“Darren says,” Akira muttered, lighting another cigarette.
“And we’re going to free them soon,” I said.
“How?” Taylor asked.
“We have RFID chips and drives from the house we liberated,” I said, “they contain information on the children that were processed there and the customers who made purchases. Even video of some of the transactions.”
“I can use facial recognition software to identify them,” Akira said, enthusiasm entering her voice.
“Right,” I said, “but I want to blow the lid off this thing big.”
“You wanna free all the houses at once,” Taylor said, sounding just as eager as Akira.
“Yes,” I said, “not just all at once, but on a specific day. The news of our fateful border crossing is already getting big, in no small part because it happened on Christmas day.”
“They’re callin’ it the Christmas Catastrophe,” Taylor nodded, “or the Christmas Crossing, if they like what ya did.”
“Exactly,” I said, “marketi
ng is just as important as what we actually do. More important, in a way, since that’s how we get people on our side.”
Something I’m going to need in the long run…
“What do you plan to do?” Akira asked, holding her cigarette with one hand, prodding the bandage around her head with the other.
“It’s going to take some time to get the logistics setup,” I said, “I’d like to shoot for Easter Sunday.”
“Keeping the religious theme?” Akira asked.
“That’ll play well in the CSA,” Taylor said.
“Yes,” I said, “The night before Easter we’ll free the children in every house simultaneously. We’ll then release the names and faces of all the victims and perpetrators, as well as exposing all the horrible things they’ve done to the children – gene doping, getting them addicted to Shift, child porn videos, selling them as slaves – on Easter Sunday.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Masaru said, Doctor Taylor nodding in agreement.
“I think so, too,” Akira said, taking a final drag on her cigarette, “but we still have a lot to do before we get to that point,” she blew the smoke out, smashing the butt against the outside wall of the hospital, “first we’re going to have to get operations up and running again. That’s what I wanted to talk about. I’ve found a house to buy where we can setup, and I’m going to need to acquire some instruments for a lab.”
“I can help you find summa that,” Doctor Taylor said.
“This is good,” Masaru said, smiling at Akira, and turn looking to the doctor, “it’s great to have you on board, Doctor Taylor.”
Rumbling down the crumbling US 160, our truck headed back toward Cortez. Laura sat in the passenger seat to my right, head bouncing as we made our way across the bumpy terrain. Darren sat to my left in the driver’s seat, asleep again as the truck navigated itself through the night. I had my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, still seeing all the genetically modified teenagers dancing in my head.
And the hostage bleeding out.
But it was the best thing to do. He almost certainly would have told the AKs about us. And he probably would have come back on the kids at that club if he was let go.
And yet it still felt wrong. We had split off from Sachi in part to avoid taking such extreme measures. Our splinter cell was supposed to be different. We were supposed to convince everyone that the forty-eights were the good guys. We were supposed to dispel all the horrors caused by Sachi’s methods. We were supposed to carry a different message.
You’re only a sociopath if you’re part of their society, Evita repeated her refrain.
Even with the doll to talk to, I knew it was just me. If even I couldn’t understand myself, there was no way I could expect anyone else to. Nobody could possibly understand the importance of the mission. For all this life, I had been able to reassure myself that I always had Sachi. No matter what the future brought, she would be there with me in some form. I would never be alone again. But she was mentally a different species than me. Somewhere along our lives, Sachi and I had diverged.
And that’s what it’s about, isn’t it? Evita said. You didn’t split off from Sachi over ideological differences. You did it because she hurt you. You spent fourteen years driving your body into the ground looking for her after Mike died. When it was her turn to look for you, she didn’t even bother trying. And when you finally got back together, she was always gone. So now you’re doing what you always do after learning that you’ll never connect with anyone – you’re running away. You’re preventing yourself from further pain, preferring to feel nothing.
But it couldn’t just be that. I knew what Sachi had done to the people of Mexico. Her intentions were not pure – she wanted a better future for the world so that it wouldn’t be miserable for herself. And she was willing to use any means necessary to achieve that. The fact that some future people might also enjoy the fruits of her labor was incidental.
And you’re so much better? Evita asked. What are your intentions? To make things better for everyone else at the expense of yourself? You think that what you’re planning makes you an altruist?
It maybe wasn’t altruism, but I took comfort in knowing that I wasn’t willing to kill a million innocent people just to save another million.
What’s more moral? Evita asked. Using terrible means to achieve a good end? Or using moral means and failing to meet that end? And we certainly learned something about the methods you’re willing to employ tonight…
If the split-brain condition taught me anything, it’s that there is darkness inside me that even Sachi couldn’t come close to. And she wasn’t wrong. Fighting monsters meant having to become a monster yourself. It’s naïve to think we could get anything done without using force…
Is that really what I think, or is my mind being polluted by my other hemisphere?
And this is assuming you’re even in this for the mission, Evita reminded me. This is assuming it’s not all about Sachi. That it’s not just about you not wanting to be alone.
I didn’t want to accept that it was only about being hurt by Sachi. Yet there was a part of me deep down that regretted splitting off from her. No matter how different we were in personality, we were two of the only people in the world who are reincarnated.
Sachi and I should have gotten together with Jiang Wei – or whoever he is now – and tried to figure everything out. It’s what Jiang Wei was already doing.
Being alone with immortality, nothing matters, because everything will die away. People fight for their country, but that abstract notion fractures and suffers a slow death. It was happening to the United States now, splitting into different regions and balkanizing based on their useless ideologies. They cling to failed beliefs in hopes that it will shield them against the corrosive effects of time. They’re philosophies decay more slowly than their bodies, but they decay nonetheless.
And I’m the one left standing in the rubble of forsaken ideas…alone.
But if everyone was immortal – or, at leat, a significant part of the population – things could be different. More than just ensuring I wasn’t alone, it would help create a better future. People would have skin in the game. People would have to think about the future. Ideologies would have to take future prosperity for everyone into account, because a person could be reborn as anyone in any place. A true Rawlsian veil. And those ideologies wouldn’t corrode into toxic viruses of the mind of fade into obscurity. They would evolve. Improve. My nihilism would no longer be justified – there would be a true purpose to the mutual existence of all the immortals.
How do you figure you’re going to accomplish this utopia? Evita asked.
Jiang Wei and Benecorp had already done some of the legwork. They were already working on the problem of reproducing reincarnation for themselves. Finding out what they knew, and then finishing it without resorting to their methods…
…if that’s even possible.
But first thing had to come first. I needed to get people on my side. To capitalize on the forty-eights brand. Benecorp had their resources. People were mine. Crowdsourcing the completion of their work and then getting as many people as possible to become immortal.
Yes, Evita said, so that you will not be alone, right?
It wasn’t just that. It couldn’t be just that.
But isn’t it? Wasn’t it when you realized that Sachi didn’t love you, that she doesn’t even really want to be with you, that this plan formulated in your mind? You’re using people like tools, just like Sachi. Like machines made of meat. Kill one to start the dominoes falling. Ally with another if they’ll work for you. And use them like a disposable sex toy the way she did with Markus.
“Is this me saying this, or my other hemisphere…?” I whispered aloud, eyes shooting open, hand touching the bump in my pocket from the tiny wooden doll, “are you…are you him?”
My heart pounded against my chest, flashes of old memories popping into my mind’s eye. I peered out into the night ahea
d of us as the truck drove itself down the highway. Everything on both sides of me seemed to fade out, vision narrowing.
“I was napping vicariously through you,” Laura said, sounding like she was miles away.
The rumble of the truck turned into thundering armies and roaring surf. Ash and grit filled my mouth. The world stank of boiling flesh. The sky burst open, issuing forth a torrent of blood crashing into the earth. My own breathing echoed through my body in panicked gasps. Infernal horrors charged through my awareness like a stampede of rampant buffalo.
And then as soon as it came, it died away. My heart continued pumping furiously, but the memories faded away almost instantly.
“Holy shit,” I said quietly, still panting.
“What are you doing?” Laura asked, lifting her gaze to me.
“I was just about to have one of my panic attacks, and then it just went away.”
“No, I mean, what are you doing?” she lifted her arm, pointing to the steering wheel.
I looked over, seeing my left hand gripping the steering wheel so tight my dark fingers looked almost white. But it wasn’t me doing it.
Split brain…
“Uh…I think my right hemisphere might still be having a panic attack in split-brain mode.”
“The hell?” Darren asked, startled awake as my left hand began pounding him in the stomach.
He grabbed my limb, trying to hold it still. I grabbed with my right arm. Darren gritted his teeth, giving me a strange look. He had been told about my split-brain situation, but this was the first time he’d ever seen it in action.
“Hold it against you,” I said, “it’s having a panic attack. If we reform while it’s still having the attack, I’ll get it, too.”
“Christ…”
“You should have seen the people in that club,” Laura said, “it may be best if we pull over and get out so we’re not all stuck in here when he goes from half crazy to full on shit-tossing lunacy.”
Even as she made her comments, I could see the concern in her eyes. To her, my panic attacks were associated with me trying to kill myself. But I agreed. It was a good idea to get everyone away from me in case it came on again.
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