by William Oday
“Why am I an enemy of the state?”
The cards were starting to spill out of my hand onto the table. I no longer cared. The truth was within reach.
Something I needed to know.
No matter the cost.
“Because the network says that you are a terrorist. That you bombed the White House.”
The room wobbled off axis again. It was all I could do to stay upright.
“What?”
Crypto shrugged. “I didn’t say I believed it. But I’m sure most will. After all, why would the network lie to us? It reports the news. Impartial. Unbiased. Objective narration of the important events of the day. All to inform and educate the grateful citizenry.”
He broke into another spell of surprisingly long-winded laughter. Tears streamed down his cheeks by the time he finally stopped. He huffed in air until he caught his breath. “That’s the story, anyway.”
“I’m not a terrorist. And I didn’t blow up anything.”
Crypto fished a black handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his eyes and cheeks dry. When he finished folding and putting it away, he looked up.
“Are you certain of that?”
24
I was as certain of that as I was of anything. Which was to say that it didn’t feel like anything I could possibly do, but I wasn’t one-hundred percent positive that I hadn’t done it either.
That level of certainty wasn’t possible until I could remember more.
I ignored the accusation for the moment. The cards were coming out quickly now and I wanted to see all of his hand. “Why does Curtis want to launch an attack down here?”
Crypto stood in the chair. He closed his eyes and began swaying back and forth, moving his hands like he was leading an imaginary orchestra. Maybe he was. It went on so long I began to wonder if he’d forgotten we were there.
“Crypto!” I shouted.
His eyes shot open in surprise. He’d actually forgotten we were there.
“Why?” I repeated.
“Why what?”
“Why does General Curtis want to attack this level?”
“Why does one man ever attack another man?”
I could think of quite a few reasons.
“Yes, you’re scrolling through a list of typically adequate reasons. But they all boil down to one and only one thing. A simple thing.”
“Which is?”
“One has something the other wants. Be it gold, or water, or oil, or food, or a woman, or a man, or a piece of land. One man covets what another man has and he decides to take it, if he is able.”
“What does General Curtis want from the people down here?”
“He wants what he already has, but is becoming increasingly difficult to retain.”
“Which is?” the edge in my voice grew harder every time I had to prompt this idiot to get to the point.
“Our submission.”
“Your submission?”
“Well, not mine personally. Not by itself. But you’d better believe it’s at the top of the wish list. He wants the lower class on the lower levels to continue our subservience to him and his kind. He simply wants to continue the status quo.”
“Is the status quo changing?”
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Are you toying with me? I know this is a grand game, but I don’t like to be toyed with.”
I could tell him about the memory loss. A part of me wanted to. But the much smarter and larger part knew that was an unnecessary and foolish gambit. “I have my own opinion on what’s happening.”
That was true. The opinion being that this was all news to me.
“But I don’t live down here and I’d like to get the perspective of someone like yourself who knows everything that happens on the lower levels.”
That last part was a guess.
“Yes, of course,” he said. “And it’s smart of you to ask.”
A good guess, then. He controlled more than just this level.
“The folks who spend their lives in the upper levels have no clue what happens down here. We are simply part of the machine that keeps everything going. Gears that make their comfortable lives possible. But that is a dynamic that has never withstood the test of time. A thriving middle class is the guardian of a civilization’s future. And that is something we no longer have. They eat real meat while those that raised the animals get only watered down porridge. Many on this level subsist on watery gruel and a weekly ration of textured soy that isn’t enough for a single meal. The Lowsiders are getting ground under the heel of the Upsiders. The more we give, the more they take.”
“You think we’re heading for a rebellion?”
“I don’t think. I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Because, one, history proves it to be inevitable. When a society develops a divergent class structure, there comes a point on the path where the growing disparity becomes untenable. And, two, because it is my fondest desire to see General Curtis and those like him brought to their knees. You see, it makes it easier for me to look them in the eye, then.” He started laughing again, absolutely unhinged madness.
I stood there in stunned silence.
I’d wanted information. I’d wanted to know what was going on.
But now that I knew, I wasn’t sure I was any better off for it. And then it hit me. His certainty of coming war. His absolute conviction.
“Crypto!” I shouted. I yelled a few more times before he finally heard and listened.
“What have you done? What have you done?”
His eyes blazed with light. He jumped off the chair and landed in a roll and then back up to his feet and walking in one fluid motion. He marched over and stopped in front of me. He craned his neck to look up. “I’ve prepared for the inevitable. That’s all.”
He snapped his fingers and one of the brutes circled around me and got on all fours like a dog on the ground. Crypto climbed up his leg until he was standing on his broad back like a small table. “Better,” he said now that we were closer to eye level.
He reached down and grabbed the strap of the submachine gun and pulled it up. His makeshift table lifted an arm to free the strap and then returned to all fours.
Crypto checked that the safety was off and pointed the weapon at my chest.
Martinez growled but I held her back with one arm.
“My question to you, Scout, is a simple one.” He turned the submachine gun around and held it out, both hands holding the barrel and trembling from the weight.
Or from the fear?
“Who’s side do you choose? You’re not the type to land in the middle. So, will you stand with us, the oppressed? Or will you stand with them, the oppressors?”
His argument was compelling. Then again, he sounded absolutely insane.
CHOICES:
1. Take the gun and use it to get out of there.
2. Tell him to keep the gun and I’ll help him in the fight.
The group chose #2 and this is what happened next…
25
I took the gun and aimed it right between his eyes. A part of me, a not inconsequential part, wanted to put a bullet in his brain. I barely knew this character but I knew enough to understand that he was a dangerous master manipulator.
That the truth was wet clay in his expert hands.
He would shape and work and mold it into whatever form suited him.
The best lies always contained a measure of truth. It’s the truth that gave the lie a perfunctory sheen of authenticity.
While I agreed with the basic principles Crypto described as underpinning societal unrest, I didn’t know if I believed that those problems were happening here. And if they were, was the tipping point at hand?
Which brought me back to his predictably cryptic statement.
I’ve prepared for the inevitable. That’s all.
That could be taken as a statement made by a reasonable person who had taken precautions to prepare for potential calamity.
> Or it could be taken as a proclamation made by a madman that he’d done something to precipitate that tipping point. That maybe the point would’ve come sooner or later, but he’d taken action to ensure it came sooner.
I had no evidence either way, but was leaning toward the latter.
As much as Crypto professed to be fighting for the common people, I suspected that he’d be all too happy to take whatever power was ripped away from the current power structure.
And the vast majority of Lowsiders would probably cheer the change. An equal but different misery is often preferred to the familiar one. Besides, an incorruptible and benevolent dictator could do a lot of good for his people. The problem was finding someone who was impervious to corruption, to temptation, to betrayal.
From sinners to saints and everyone in between, the more power a person had, the more perverse it acted upon their personality. Some sage from long ago had taken it to the extreme to make a point.
Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Crypto already had a lot of power. If he were to fill the power vacuum created by winning a war, would the people be better off?
And so a part of me wanted to kill him now and end that possible future.
Martinez looked back and forth between us. “Shoot him already!”
Crypto’s eyes widened. Was there regret in them? Regret that he’d read the situation wrong? Regret that he’d read me wrong?
“You don’t trust him, do you?” she said. “He’ll shove a knife in your back the second he decides that’s better than keeping you alive.”
She reached for the gun. “Give it to me. I’ll do it!”
I batted her hand away. “Martinez, could you give me half a second?”
She kept reaching.
“Please?”
Her shoulders slumped and she sighed as she gave up.
I agreed with her wholeheartedly. This partnership, if indeed it became one, would be nothing more than a marriage of convenience. Including the “Til death do us part” part. Because as soon as the circumstances shifted, I had no doubt Crypto would happily kill me to part ways.
Which left the option of shooting him, dealing with these apes, and getting away. At least trying to.
But what if pulling the trigger only produced a hollow click?
What if there were no bullets?
How open would he be to me joining him after I’d just tried to kill him?
Probably not very.
In fact, there probably wouldn’t be time for the offer because his goon would shoot us dead.
I felt the heft of the gun in my hand, trying to judge if the magazine was empty or not. It was lighter than I would’ve expected with a full magazine. But it could’ve had one or two rounds without me being able to tell the difference.
Which meant it could very well be empty and all this was a charade to test me. And that Crypto was never in any real danger. He didn’t seem like the type that willingly gave other people control in any given situation. That felt more like a last resort for the personality profile that I was building of him.
So, the safest option was to accept. For now.
I turned the gun around and offered it back. “I’ll help you.”
A single bead of sweat broke from his hairline and raced down his temple and cheek. He wiped it away before taking the gun. “Whoa! That was intense! Did you feel it?” He started laughing.
Now that the game was over, I wanted to see everyone’s cards. “Not that it mattered, but it wasn’t even loaded.”
Crypto’s maniacal cackling cut to silence. He raised the gun to the side and fired two rounds.
I winced at the deafening sound in the enclosed space.
It was loaded. What kind of crazy person would do that? He couldn’t have known if I would accept or not. Could he?
I didn’t know.
That personality profile needed an adjustment.
Martinez snorted. “You should’ve shot him.”
Crypto turned to her with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “He is a valuable ally to have. You, on the other hand?”
Martinez’s lip twisted into a snarl.
“You are expendable. You bring nothing that someone else couldn’t do better.” He pointed the gun at her.
I stepped in front of her. “She’s with me. No deal without her.”
His gaze darted between us. He finally nodded and let the gun fall to his side. “It’s your funeral. I don’t trust her. She’s a career Gray. An enforcer for the Upsiders.”
“She ignored orders to save my life. She’s one of us.”
Crypto laughed sardonically. “Us? We are not even us. Look at you and look at me. I am uniquely on my own in this world. Yes, I identify with Lowsiders because I’ve lived here all my life and I understand being an outcast. I understand oppression. But don’t mistake being allies against a common foe for being bosom buddies. That would require us to share more than a few bosoms first!”
He started laughing so hard he doubled over with the effort.
And I couldn’t have agreed more. About the allies part. Not the sharing bosoms part. “So, allies share information with each other, correct?”
He nodded.
“Good. Then what did you mean by saying you’ve prepared for the inevitable?”
He grinned.
A mischievous, lurid smile that made the hairs on the back of my neck tingle with tension.
26
“Scout, do you enjoy a good surprise?” Crypto asked.
“No. I’m not a fan of surprises.”
He shook his head, pitying me. “Not even good ones?”
Maybe there had been good surprises in my life. I couldn’t remember. But starting with everything that I could remember, surprises had a distinctly terrible track record. Every surprise seemed to be worse than the last.
“I don’t like surprises on principle. They mean you were unprepared for a particular outcome.”
“You’re a party pooper,” he said as he wagged an accusatory finger at me.
A party pooper?
Where did that phrase even come from?
Had someone been at a party one time and had a big accident in their pants? And everyone got so disgusted that the whole party shut down and everybody went home?
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe, but I’d like to know what you meant.”
He tapped his puckered lips with one hand and let the gun hang in the other. A chirp in the background and a DAP sitting in his chair blinked on. It was too far and the angle was too acute to see what it said.
Crypto extended his hand. “Business calls, my new friend. We’ll have to discuss this at a later time.”
I shook his hand, noting both the small size and the iron grip. His fingers felt like articulated bars of steel. “I want an answer.”
He pulled away with a smile. “And I want to be tall, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?” He dove off of his bodyguard’s back into a roll and was up on his feet in a flash, heading to check on whatever message had come in.
“Let’s go,” the lead ape said.
His dumber twin retrieved the submachine gun left behind by Crypto and stood. They herded us toward the exit. The lights dimmed to black as we went.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Crypto surrounded by darkness with only his face glowing from the illumination of the DAP’s screen. Creepy. Seriously creepy.
We returned by the same path and I was pleased to discover that my memory of the route matched the reality. Maybe I was getting better.
Maybe more memories would begin to surface soon.
The blast door scraped open and I noticed that our rifles were missing. We’d left them right there.
I spun around and was immediately nose to nose with the smarter idiot.
His flat eyes didn’t blink as the corner of his mouth drifted up. His twin sidled up next to us, ready and anticipating the confrontation.
I could take one of them down.
But
both?
It wasn’t a sure thing.
I choked down my desire to flatten this meatbag and forced a smile. “We seem to be missing our rifles.”
The one staring at me shrugged. “That so?”
Martinez tried to step around to get into the mix, but I held her back. “Yeah, you brainless monkey! You said they’d be right here when we got back!” She pointed at the spot. “Are they there? I don’t see them. Maybe I’m crazy and not seeing things. Am I crazy, Scout?”
An honest answer would’ve been yes, but I didn’t say it.
“Where are the rifles?” I asked.
A squeaky voice came from behind the two boulders of bone and muscle. “Excuse me. Pardon me. Coming through!”
The two goons parted and Caleb squeezed through with our rifles in hand. “The boss said to make sure you get these back.” He shoved them into my hands as both guards glowered at him.
“Thanks, kid.” I said as I passed off one to Martinez.
She checked the chamber, the magazine, the sights and gave the weapon a thorough examination in the space of seconds.
Caleb’s chest puffed out. “I’m not a kid, man! I’m sixteen! I think. Anyway, I’m supposed to lead you back to Kat’s place.”
Thank goodness.
I wasn’t going to say anything, but as much as I’d tried to memorize the circuitous path we’d taken to get here, odds were even that I’d get it wrong. I remembered the first quarter or so and then the last quarter or so, but the half in the middle was hazy at best. “Fine, if it’ll make your boss feel better.”
“It’ll make me feel better making sure I do what he says.” Caleb glanced at all four of us in turn. “Did I just interrupt something?”
The smarter ape grinned.
I was pretty sure he was trying to look menacing. Unfortunately, the briefest peek in a mirror would’ve told him it came off looking comical. His face wasn’t made for grinning.
He looked like he was in pain.
Like smiling hurt his cheeks.
“We’ll do it another time,” he said.