Many of the mutants who ran away to join the rebellion were still underage, and their parents wanted them back. The council sent security bots to bring them home. Only one security bot came back, it had been reprogrammed with a message of defiance. They wanted recognition and to be treated equally. Dick couldn’t care less about their plight. He only saw people as vehicles for his own advancement.
The conflict started to peter out. The Council was going to give in. Dick had to get involved. He’d ensured the Council viewed mutants as children and encouraged the rebels to fight. His media empire covertly spread discord under a white flag. He shook hands on some days and backstabbed on the others. Child’s play. Fun.
The Council sent more bots and this time none came back. Dick knew that would be the case. He'd made sure. Unfortunately, things never quite escalated into a full war. Instead, mutant colonies sprouted up around the globe and refused to answer to the Council. The cyborg mutant war was mostly fought by unsanctioned champions. Drunks claiming to be the best. Dick made sure his outlets always blew reports out of proportion. These superhuman champions did leave massive destruction in the wake of their duels, but not enough to generate fear. Just a bit of embellishment. It made the stories more interesting for everyone.
Dick found out about the last human during the conflict. It was so pleasantly ironic that it turned out to be Rick Archer. Media frenzy had engulfed him. Dick couldn’t help but be in awe at the great diversion Rick offered to the citizens of the world. He had to be used. Hearing about the last human was less depressing than hearing about two titans tearing apart the countryside during a duel. Dick always gave the people what they wanted.
Rick had used his newfound popularity to start a vlog show where he mostly partied. He called it “Party Like A Human” and people loved it, and they partied just like Rick, mutant and cyborg alike. The tensions dropped, everyone loved Rick. He’d stopped the war. Dick wanted Rick.
The war wound down, and peace was struck in 2046. The primary condition was the formation of the mixed Council. Equal members representing the five main transhuman groups.
Rick’s contribution to the peace process was not negligible, and his calming effect on the population had been duly noted. Dick was closing on Rick. The Agency was hired to run campaigns and create content that promoted peace and bonding between cyborgs and mutants. Dick’s grand idea to keep the peace was to use the last human as a laughing stock for mutants and cyborgs, to make him a common enemy of sorts, the butt of every joke, someone they could all come together and despise. And it fucking worked.
Dick met Rick at a party a year after the peace treaty was signed. Rick was an idiot. All he did was get sideways. Dick plied him with booze, women and money and convinced him to sign his life over to The Last Human brand. Rick would be rich and famous until the day he died, that was the deal. Or at least the only part Rick seemed to understand. Dick couldn’t believe how easy it had been to get him to sign his life away. The father had been far more trouble.
By the time Rick realised what his new career entailed, it was too late. He’d signed everything in triplicate, and he’d already spent so much money he’d be in debt forever if he pulled out. For ten years and as many seasons, Rick hosted The Last Human. Dick actually loved the show. Watching Rick discuss topics he could barely understand amused him to no end. Every week Rick would jet off to some new location to face pain and humiliation. His inadequacies were highlighted, and people got special deals on upgrades if they ordered during the show. Rick had made Dick a lot of money. The show had been a wild success since the first episode. Fuck the Archers.
The Agency
The cab slowed and started its descent onto the lower busier airways. They had to stop and hover for close to five minutes while they waited for a giant Amazon ship to clear the skies. The Agency building wasn’t far now. Clouds had been replaced by the buzzing activity and traffic in the city beneath them. Barry said it was time to prep for the meeting. Rick turned his seat to face the others.
“Alright, we need to be on the same page for this meeting. Brock, I think you can stick to your usual quiet self. Rick, are we on the same page?”
“So you’re going to pitch Solus Tour, and I just go with the flow.” Barry seemed relieved. “But what if he says no? ‘Cause I’m not taking no for an answer. You know that right?”
“He’s not going to say no!”
“He better not!”
“Rick for fuck’s sake have some faith in me! I’m going to pitch it right, I have an angle. You have to trust me. Don’t fuck this up, OK?” Barry could be convincing, but the end game was to be free, not make a great show.
“I can’t do this anymore Barry you better not fuck up. I’m tired of this crap.”
“Well, you can’t flee. They’d catch you eventually and when they did you’d be like “fuck I wish I listened to Barry”. Because you don’t seem cut out for a life on the run.” Barry was making sense, but Rick couldn’t care less.
“Then I’ll just off myself and save everyone the trouble.” Rick had been considering it lately. Maybe he could be something else. Somewhere else.
“Yes, well let’s not do anything too crazy. Suicide voids the deal.”
Rick turned to Barry quizzically. “What deal?” Barry looked surprised too; clearly he thought Rick knew more about his contract. Rick knew nothing.
“The Agency has your regularly updated brain scans and when you die the deal is you can be anything you want, only once you die though. But it can’t be suicide. Suicide voids the deal, and you just disappear.” Rick was stunned. “Did you never read your contract? For fuck’s sake Rick! Does this change anything in that crazy brain of yours?” Rick didn’t say anything. “Rick?” A billion questions and scenarios were rushing through his mind. Does this change anything?
“When do they scan me? Where is my digital brain stored? How…” Barry started answering before Rick could continue.
“The house scans you. Most people know this Rick...” Maybe Rick had been partying for too long. “And your house has a copy of your digital brain. There’s also a copy in the Universal Database. That’s public. Don’t worry though digital brains are encrypted. No one can copy it or use it, apart from the owner, well, except you... The encryption on yours is controlled by the Agency. Part of the contract.” Rick’s mind was swimming with possibilities, trying to find a new path to freedom. “Are we good? Rick?” Are we?" Rick wasn’t too sure of anything anymore.
“Let me think.” The best course of action was still to initiate the Solus Tour idea. If anything it would give Rick more time and maybe even get him off-world. But he needed the encryption key to his digital brain. How the fuck am I supposed to get that? Rick saw that Barry was still waiting for an answer, and he thought he should reassure him. Barry needed to be on top form for this meeting. “Yeah we’re good, stick to the plan.” Barry looked relieved. Rick had much to think about.
Their target was a black glass monolith surrounded by trees and grass. It really stood out, there were buildings hundreds of times larger that did a better job of blending in with nature. Rick hated everything about the Agency, and that fucking name, as if they’re the only agency in the world. He did like the Avengers A on the facade, though he hated that it was on that building. Obnoxious cunts.
Considering much of the world’s products got their marketing planned here the building was modest in size. Rick had been in there enough to know why. AIs did most of the work while Dick and his cronies behaved like Madmen. Yuppie assholes.
The cab dropped them off in front of the Agency, and they made their way towards the entrance. To say the decoration was minimalistic somehow felt like an understatement. Screens were playing adverts continuously, showing off the Agency's work. Apart from that, it was all white walls. No reception either, just an empty room with screens, thankfully on mute. A partition slid open revealing a white corridor and a white orb that floated in to greet them. A Smart Orb. The PA AI. Amy did no
t like them, in her opinion they were useless and a waste of money. Most AI’s thought this too. But Dick Prunce had marketed them, and they had sold. The cunt is good at selling, Rick had to admit it.
“Rick Archer and party, welcome, Mr Prunce is expecting you.” The orb turned and started floating away. “This way please.”
Brock and Barry started following the orb. Rick hung back for a second and glanced back at the door. No going back now. The little sphere led them down the white corridor to the lifts. Everything was white, the walls, the floor, the ceiling, white everywhere. Rick didn’t like it. The whole place had a mental hospital vibe, unbecoming of an ad agency. Where are the fucking colours?
They rode up to the top floor and exited into Dick Prunce’s penthouse office. It was big, the whole top floor big. And it was lavish, less monochromatic, actual colours and decorations, furniture and art, a few paintings and statues. The Dick was sitting behind his desk, a good twenty meters from the doors, he did not walk over to greet them. Power play. The orb led the party through the office up to Dick’s desk. They passed a ridiculous number of couches and coffee tables on their way. The waste of space bothered Rick. I bet no one has ever sat on these couches. The echoes of their footsteps on the hardwood floor were the only sound.
Dick sat behind a huge curved desk with a dozen holographic screens. He seemed busy trying to look busy. He told someone he’d call them back and lifted a silencing finger at them. Prick.
“Your four o’clock is here Mr Prunce. Mr Archer and party.” The orb floated away to a respectable distance once its task was complete. Dick Prunce looked up from whatever he was doing and eyed Rick, Barry, Brock and their AI’s. He was all smiles with a hint of disdain towards the end of his scan.
“Ah, Rick Archer! What brings you to my neck of the woods? I thought you didn’t like the East Coast this time of the year.” Dick had walked around his desk to shake hands with Rick and the others.
“I don’t like it here period. Nothing seasonal about it.” Dick laughed uncontrollably at that. It felt fake. But also real. Dick was pro. It was an uncomfortable experience.
“Still got it, Rick! Still fucking got it!” Dick shook hands with Brock and Barry and gave the AI’s a nod before going back behind his desk and gesturing at Rick and the others to sit. He made some hand movements, and all the holoscreens disappeared. “So what’s up? What does the Last Human need from his benefactor?” Dick looked around at the group and stopped on Barry.
Rick glanced at Barry. He was seventy percent robot and still sweating nervously, but he swallowed and started anyway.
“Right, we’ve had an idea to spice up the show, make it more interesting, we feel it’s become stale.” Barry stopped for an instant to gather his thoughts but that instant was too long, and Dick wiggled into the gap.
“What are you guys on about? People love the show! The ratings have never been better and yesterday’s pit adventures are going viral! Everybody loves Rick! We’re going to get the best viewership of the year on the season finale!” Rick was unfazed by the bull.
“We know that! Rick can’t go a few minutes without someone telling him they love him. Everyone on Terra loves him. But we wanna go bigger!
“Go on…”
“We’re talking Solus Tour! Rick’s got to have fans everywhere right? Let’s take the show on the road and meet fans and celebrities from around the colonies.” Barry stopped, Dick was considering it, time for the Hail Mary. Go, Barry! “It would be great PR for the Council. We always hear about unrest in the colonies. Rick’ll fix it! The show going interstellar with a message of unity could be just what the doctor ordered.” Rick was impressed, and Brock seemed in awe, Barry had nailed it. The Dick hadn’t said anything for close to a minute. A rare occurrence. This was good. He was really considering it.
“I don’t hate the idea. I need to speak to the Council reps, but we could have something here. As long as everybody plays their part.” Dick shot the tiniest menacing glance towards Rick. “This is not completely stupid Barry. I’m impressed. I’m going to think about this some more. Rick great seeing you. Brock, Barry, good to see you too.” Dick was trying to end the meeting, but just when everyone thought everything would be fine and dandy, Rick piped up.
“I want amendments to the contract.”
Barry whipped around and faced Rick who was wearing a deadly-serious face. Dick looked slightly amused but also angry. It quickly changed to feigned disappointment. Brock didn’t seem surprised at all, didn’t even seem to care about what was happening.
“And what changes might you require Mr Archer. Let’s see if we can’t accommodate you.” Rick frowned at Dick’s choice of words. His voice sounded courteous, calm and composed but there was definitely a hint of anger.
“After the Solus Tour, which takes, say, five seasons, I want out. I want to stop the Last Human and enhance myself.” Rick thought it best to not mention the digital brain encryption key. Playing the part of the fool was always his best shot at getting what he wanted.
“Hmmm, unexpected. Are you not happy Mr Archer?” Dick’s tone had changed again, more threatening now. “Do you feel, perhaps, you have not gotten enough out of life? Maybe the lack of alcohol and drugs is making you depressed? In any case, I’m afraid your request is problematic for us. You see the reason we have all these clauses in your contract is because once you die, there will be no other like you. And, well, we need to milk it. Apologies for crudeness, but in short, we need you to live until you’re old and everything hurts. And then we need you to die of something laughable anyone else can survive. And then you will get a hero’s funeral and statues, and you will be remembered for eternity like the heroes of old, like your father..." Rick ground his teeth, he had to bite down as hard as he could to keep his fury contained. "Then you’ll be free. Your digital brain will be rich and immortal in a body of your choice. On the grand scheme of things, I think this seems fair. And you thought so too when you signed the contract.” He'd signed the contract. He'd been played like a fool. Rick for the second time today was stunned beyond words. “So the short of it is you have to stick it out to the end of your contract. But it’s not all doom and gloom. I have a good feeling about your Solus Tour idea. So cheer up!”
“Maybe the deal isn’t so bad Rick” Barry ventured a smile. “Solus Tour is going to be amazing, and you won’t see the time pass. What’s a few years against an eternity?”
“At the rate you party you’ll die soon anyway.” Brock’s first words in a while, sharp as always.
“Thanks, Brock, Barry.”
“Mr Archer, just carry on doing what you’ve been doing so well. And before you know it, you’ll be living the high life as an android.”
“But I’ll be a copy of myself. I want to be myself, but better.”
“OK, I want to help.” Rick found that hard to believe. “This is what we can do. We’ll amend the contract so that your brain is preserved. It can be cyber-enhanced and then placed in an artificial body. You’ll be a cyborg but mostly artificial. At least you won’t be a copy.” This was as far as Dick Prunce would go, Rick knew it.
“Maybe I can live with that.” Rick forced himself to smile through gritted teeth.
“Good! We have an agreement.” Dick turned to Barry. “I’ll get the amended contract to you first thing tomorrow.” With that, Dick stood up. The meeting was over. No one said anything, the little white orb led them out and the Dick went back to plotting or something.
◆◆◆
The cab ride was quiet. For a little while at least. Then Barry broke the silence. “So that was a little dark...” Rick pounced.
“A little dark? That son of bitch admitted to my face that my life would be more and more suffering until I die... And that was his plan from the beginning! Is this not exactly the kind of shit the devil did in all these old stories? Is the devil not evil? Did we not rebuild our society to stop this shit from happening?” Rick was furious. Barry averted his eyes, but Rick wasn’t l
etting go. “Brock? Anything to say? Weren’t you some kind hero before?”
“No, and I’m shocked as well, Rick, but there is nothing we can do. So finish venting and then start thinking about Solus Tour.” Brock had spoken, and that’s all he’d say about the subject. Barry tried to get some positivity back in the air.
“I’ve got some great ideas for the Solus Tour. And I’ll make sure you hit every good bar and whorehouse on the way. You’ll see everything you want on the way, Rick, this is going to be great!”
“Not now Barry.” Everyone went quiet again. Rick addressed the taxi’s AI. “Take us to the Washington Monument.” The cab acquiesced and started manoeuvring into a new lane. Nobody said anything.
The Washington Monument was grim. It used to be a nice white obelisk. But things had gotten wildly out of hand during the purge. Especially near seats of power. The White House and Capitol were rubble, never rebuilt, the entire area was kept as it was after the purge. A truly gloomy memorial, a testament to humanity’s darkest days. The leadership and billionaire class, those that were caught alive, had been brought to the monument for judgment. Those found to be most vile were nailed to the obelisk, others were hung or crucified in neat rows. Perpetrators of the most reprehensible crimes were nailed nearer to the top. A crane had to be used for these bastards. All had been coated with gold so they might serve as a lesson to future generations. The memorial was always open. At night, the lights shone off row after row of golden statues. It was beautiful in a morbid kind of way. Many had petitioned to have it flattened, no memorial whatsoever, to erase these people from history. But more still thought it was important to keep reminders of their collective past, however vile they may be.
The Last Human Page 8