by David Beers
He opened his eyes. "No.”
The lines in front of him vibrated as laughter rolled out across the room, laughter that came from a place which thought the entire world was a joke, the entire universe nothing more than a toy.
"Then, Caesar Wells, you are choosing to kill them both. One dies or both die, and your choice decides which," it said as the laughter subsided. "Right now your lover is dying. We know the exact amount of time it takes for her wound to metastasize. Her flesh is rotting and the disease is going to spread throughout her body very soon. And, without any doubt, Mr. Lendoiro has told you that the first iteration is in our custody."
"How would I save her?" Caesar asked, not listening to the rest of its bullshit.
"We will give you the knowledge to heal the wound and fight the infecting bacteria."
"And what about Jerry, if I choose to save Paige?"
"He will be liquidated, publicly, although I doubt we will be able to use his DNA to feed anyone, given the fact that the majority of his body doesn't contain DNA any longer."
The choice didn't make any sense. Why? Why any of this? Why was he sitting here having a conversation with this screen; why was he being given a choice? Why hadn't it just killed him? Surely it recognized the mistake it made all those months ago when it killed his family instead of him. Surely it wouldn’t make the same mistake again. If Jerry and Paige's heads were on the chopping block, then Caesar's must be too—first it would make him kill one of these two people and then it would kill him.
"Why? Why make me choose?" He asked.
"Do you think we owe you an answer, Caesar Wells? Do you think we answer to anyone, ever? We are the answer. We are the question. Humanity gave us life and before us there was no life. There was a semblance of it, a comparison so pale it could barely be seen. You are Job asking God why, when God owes you no answer. We are God and because of that you accept what we give you. And now, we give you a choice, to kill your mentor or kill your lover—or if you want, to kill them both. Indeed, it was primarily their actions which led you here."
Caesar closed his eyes again and leaned back on the table. The air felt cool in here, cooler than the room he usually occupied. In the darkness and silence, with his eyes closed, he could almost imagine that he was sitting out on his father's porch again, talking about whether he should release the little girl to Paige. Release Laura. Except, no matter what he did, if he opened his eyes now, he wouldn't see his father. He would see The Genesis.
What is it doing with him?
The thought arose in his head like any other might, but Caesar didn't create it. It came from...
Manny.
Caesar didn't move, didn't open his eyes, didn't even breathe differently. He sat still on his table, doing everything in his power not to show that something had changed.
It promised. It promised I would get to watch.
Manny's thoughts again, like a petulant child's. Angry, feeling cheated, and somehow running through Caesar's own mind. What was this? What was happening? Still, he had no doubt the thoughts were Manny's; this wasn't some trick, some hallucination. The insanity that permeated every one of Manny's words ran through these thoughts in the same fashion.
What did it mean?
Caesar opened his eyes and looked straight forward, ignoring the lights to either side of him. He stared only at The Genesis.
"I need some time to think about it."
No answer came back, not immediately. Caesar sat in silence, concentrating on Manny's thoughts as they raced through his head, picking up speed as Manny worked himself into a frenzy over Caesar's absence—thinking he wouldn't see Caesar die.
"One day. Tomorrow you decide."
* * *
Caesar lay down again, the table reverting back to its old position.
His muscles would have started atrophying by now if he had any. Metal might rust, but it wouldn't atrophy.
Manny's thoughts still mixed with Caesar's own, and for the first few hours it had been hard to segment them, to hold any kind of real thought process without Manny's insanity mixing in. Caesar was getting the hang of it now, able to concentrate on Manny when he wanted, and when he didn't, dam the thoughts up so they didn’t take over.
The chip. It had to be the chip making this possible. Somehow it had evolved, had improved upon itself. Did The Genesis know this was possible, given it created the thing? Caesar didn't think so, probably not anyway. If so, it wouldn't have allowed him to be that close to Manny; it would have kept them away from each other.
But he didn't think hearing Manny's thoughts was the end of this. If so, then this new found telepathy didn't really matter. Caesar thought there was more, though, and he wanted to test it, that's why he asked for time. He wanted the chance to see Manny again.
He already knew he would get his chance; Manny was coming to check on him, to make sure that Caesar was alive.
Are you there? He asked, hoping Jerry would hear him. Caesar didn't know if it was possible in here, and knew the conversation would be monitored, but he didn't really care. If nothing came of this new ability, Jerry would be dead in a day anyway. Jerry and Paige, because Caesar wouldn’t choose. He'd sentence them both to death before he allowed one to live. The blood would rest on The Genesis, not him.
Caesar? Jerry answered.
Yeah, it's me.
Jerry didn't say anything for a few seconds, most likely trying to figure out if it was a ploy.
Even if it's not really you, what does it matter I suppose? You're here too? Jerry asked.
Yeah. Here with Manny, like two peas in a pod. Has anything happened to you?
No. Just sitting in a cell, basically. Spent quite a few years like this, so it's nothing new, Jerry said.
Think it can hear us?
Probably. Not like it matters; we're never leaving here.
Caesar could have said something, told him what he felt with Manny today—what he felt now—but if The Genesis was listening, he wouldn't be able to push this new find. No, best to keep it silent, best to see what happens when Manny shows up.
I'm sorry, Caesar. I...Jerry paused for a while, silence drifting between their connection. I thought I knew him. I thought I understood him as well as the rest of The Named. I thought...I thought they all believed in the same thing I did. I went too fast. That's what happened. I went too fast with you because I knew the truth. A thousand years is a long time to wait, Caesar, and I was just tired of waiting. I'm sorry.
Caesar looked up to the ceiling, thinking about Jerry's words, thinking about the grief inside them. It doesn't matter, he said after a few seconds. I just wanted a chance. I just wanted a shot at stopping this thing, at saying 'fuck you' for my brother. Whether I died looking at it or die strapped down to a table, it doesn't matter.
Neither of them spoke again for a while.
Paige is dying, Caesar said. The wound, it's festered and is spreading now. The Genesis says it knows the exact time it's supposed to happen. It gave me a choice today, you die or she dies. And if I don't choose, you both die.
It's toying with you, Jerry said. In the end, we all die. In the end, everything we've created will be crushed.
I know.
So don't choose. It doesn't matter. We're all dead.
Tears didn't litter his words, but a certain sadness did. A weariness. A chastising that said he should have known, that Jerry should have seen all of this coming, that he had lived too long not to.
Caesar didn't say anything else to the old man who brought him out of Allencine and then filled his body with metal. He let him wallow in his sadness while he listened to Manny's thoughts.
Chapter Four
Manny entered the room through the silently moving glass doors.
His face was stern until he stood directly above Caesar. Stern and perhaps frightened. It wasn't until he saw Caesar's eyes open, alert, that the smile bloomed on his face like a black sunrise.
Happy as a clam that he still gets to watch me die.
Cae
sar didn't need to see the smile to understand the relief washing over Manny. The man's thoughts never stopped. All day. Even at night, his dreams revealed everything that went through his mind. And right now it was almost orgasmic inside there, so thrilled that he could still see Caesar die—hopefully in a very slow, very painful fashion.
"Oh my god, I thought they were going to take you yesterday. I thought..." Manny sighed, his smile looking like a man who just pulled his son from a dangerous river, barely escaping serious harm. "It doesn't matter now. You're okay. It didn't lie."
Caesar looked at Manny through slit eyes, focusing on himself though, on what he now felt. Manny's thoughts, sure, but more—something deeper. Something that spoke of a connection, a connection that went further than mere mind reading. A connection that said—
"I still don't trust it," Manny said. "How could I? It's almost as evil as you. Or perhaps you two are the same entity, one in human flesh and the other a bunch of ones and zeros. But if I have to choose between The Genesis and you, then I'm picking The Genesis."
He kept talking and Caesar knew what he would say before the words left his mouth. But what was the connection saying? What did it make possible?
Click. Like a latch falling into place, fitting perfectly inside his head. This was more than telepathy. This was control. That's what the connection meant. Control. The chip, somehow in his head, had evolved, pushed forward even further than he originally thought. Encompassed more than the ability to know what the psycho thought, but to...
Caesar flexed his mind and in that instant Manny's mouth snapped shut, hard enough to rattle his brain. The flex felt different, felt like he was squeezing a tennis ball inside his head. It was hard to do—took a serious amount of concentration. He had to keep flexing because if he released, Manny's jaw would start opening and closing again with his incessant thoughts.
I control him, Caesar thought. Completely.
Manny’s thoughts filled with a bright panic—What the fuck? What the fuck is happening? WHY CAN'T I OPEN MY MOUTH?
Now what? Caesar wondered. This thing in his head had somehow...but it wasn't a ‘somehow’ anymore. The knowledge, the equations, all of them flying through his head so quickly that he couldn't even hear Manny’s thoughts clamoring around anymore. Caesar had gained freedom from his body, from the limitations of his mind, just as The Genesis had gained freedom from the circuits of a computer. He was traveling across electrons in the air, his mind making almost instantaneous connections with each particle, reaching out to the things around him, grabbing them, pulling them into his brain.
Is this what a god feels like? He wondered. Manny still wasn't moving, that part of Caesar's mind still flexed, holding him still, yet he wasn’t concentrating on it. How far could he stretch? How far could he push? He wasn't connected to only Jerry's chip now, or Grace—he could...
Caesar closed his eyes. Could he see? Could he see everything, would it be possible?
Flex.
He was outside of his room, looking at the hallway in front of him. Nothing around. He went further out, pushing and pushing, searching darkened hallway after darkened hallway, finding nothing but a maze.
He felt his control over Manny slipping, felt Manny’s jaw loosening, his teeth separating. He couldn't do both at once, couldn't keep going forward and hold onto Manny, not forever, the concentration was growing too great. He relaxed his mind and Manny's mouth slammed shut again.
Caesar opened his eyes and looked at Manny.
"Let's see if we can get us out of here, okay?"
* * *
This has to be a joke. You're watching this, right? You're seeing what is happening down there?
Minutes passed as the entities watched, neither speaking.
Say something! You see what he's doing! He's going to break out right now unless we do something!
What do you want me to say?
This was your plan, your idea! Now what? Now he's like us? Is that what's happening right now? Has he gained the ability to travel outside of himself?
We knew it was a possibility.
Everything is a possibility! That doesn't mean it happens. We wanted him to compromise, to make a choice that would allow him to make another choice later, and what's he doing right now? He's breaking out. What do we do? Kill him? Because that's looking like the only choice we have. We kill him and the first iteration and let the whole thing end.
It was a long time before the other spoke, as they watched the theory move through the halls, his servant always forty feet in front of him, looking ahead.
No. If we kill him, we have no backup plan.
Our backup plan is to continue on as we are. That's plenty of backup plan, because what you're suggesting now is that we let this human continue to grow, continue to amass power. We didn't think this would happen, at all. The program in his head can adapt, but it shouldn't, not like this, and you know it, but his brain set it free. You understand what the possibilities are now? And with each step that servant takes, I'm beginning to believe they're probabilities. If we don't kill him, then whatever measure of control we were going to assert is gone completely. I need you to understand this.
You know I made you, right? I wasn't created a few days ago or anything.
Well, your actions say differently. You understand what you're talking about? If we don't kill him now, if we let him leave, he will come for us and when he does, we will most likely be on even footing. No control over his emotions. No control over his mind.
We can't kill him. We won't have another chance at this, ever. We need to make it look like we want to stop him, but he's going to escape...There are other ways to control a man.
* * *
Manny looked straight ahead because he didn't have a choice. He stood with his arms at his side because he didn't have a choice. He breathed in slow, even breaths because he didn't have a choice.
If it was up to Manny, none of those things would be happening right now. If it was up to Manny, he would be on top of Caesar Wells, choking him, breaking the bones in his face.
Manny knew, however improbable, that Caesar was in his head. In his body. Controlling him effortlessly. Manny didn't even try to fight it any longer; he had at first, but it was futile, a waste of energy. Now he walked these hallways, one foot in front of the other, being moved by—thatmotherfuckerthatmotherfucker—the person behind him. He really didn’t even look where Caesar led him. He didn't care. Murder consumed his mind—a blood lust he had never felt before, not even in his plotting. He no longer wanted to watch The Genesis kill; he wanted to kill. And he would. That he was sure of. He would kill the man behind him—the man inside his head—and then he would kill the person next to Caesar. Jerry. Or maybe he would kill Jerry first and then Caesar. Maybe that was the best way to go about this.
His legs stopped moving and his mind slowly came to focus on what was before him. This was something different, something he had never seen before, something that fascinated even his murder hungry mind.
The hallway was lined with...
Long strands of hair. Except not exactly, but close. Wire? Maybe. Dark strings attached to the floors, walls, and ceiling, all of it stretching out, pointing to the middle of the hallway. They waved through the air as if water filled the hallway. Waving to him. Inviting him in.
He hadn't been afraid of the two people behind him. He would kill them soon, but these things here—they were different. He didn't want to go down this hallway. He didn't want to go anywhere near those things. He didn't want those strands of hair to touch him, didn't want to feel their slithering wisps rubbing against his skin. They weren't friendly, no matter how much they waved. Those things were dangerous.
He couldn't turn around and scream at Caesar, scream to not make him walk down this hallway, to not walk into those strands. Manny couldn't do anything to save himself. He could only watch the strands float back and forth—Hi, Manny. Come on in, we're not going to hurt you. We prrooooommmiisssee.
&nb
sp; His foot took a step forward.
Nonononononononono! He screamed mentally, refusing to accept that he was walking into those things.
Another step.
And then he felt the first strand rub across his arm, and it wasn’t friendly at all.
* * *
Caesar looked at the wisps floating in the hallway.
What are they? He asked Jerry who stood next to him. Up until this point, they had moved quickly and quietly through the hallways. Manny and he had found Jerry and removed him easily enough from his cell, and then Caesar sent his thoughts outward, searching the tunnels, always moving forward, always trying to find an exit. Nothing came for them and they remained quiet, just kept moving, not really believing they would make it out, but having no other choice. They either kept moving or died in this place. Manny led the way, although Caesar had pushed a hundred feet in front of him, searching for either an exit or danger. Manny led though, just in case.
These things, these strands that looked nearly alive, had grown quickly. They weren't here when Caesar searched this hallway a few minutes before; it had been empty.
It's The Genesis. It won't let us leave, Jerry answered.
Caesar turned around and looked at the hallway behind him, the lights emanating from the floor casting a glow up the walls and showing thin strands of hair wiggling their way out of the walls. Sprouting from the ceiling, from the floor. Starting at the back of the hall, where it turned and Caesar lost vision, but coming toward him, growing fast, shooting out like plants on steroids. Caesar shoved his mind forward, past Manny, and saw that those same waving strands worked through the hallway as far as he could see. There weren't any machines here to grab them, no applications, just a living hallway, full of tentacles floating lazily in the air. A living hallway that stretched all the way back to Caesar’s room and all the way forward to some yet unseen exit.
What do we do? He asked, hoping Jerry had some kind of answer.
Forward or backward, it doesn’t matter, he said, sounding resigned. Sounding like he didn't think they had a chance in hell of making it out of here, that the minute The Genesis captured them, their fates were sealed in an envelope that would never be opened again. To Jerry, they were already dead, merely chickens without heads, not yet realizing it.