by David Beers
Jerry heard her footsteps, sounding robotic just as Leon's did whenever he walked through the apartment. Manny scooted over, making room for Paige to sit down in front of Jerry.
She sat and Jerry felt all the sadness that he couldn't feel for the creature inhabiting Manny come forward. He saw what might have been his daughter in a different life, what was the closest thing he had to a daughter in this life, totally wrecked. She was naked and deep, maroon blood stains plastered her inner thighs. There were bite marks, deep purple all over her bare chest. Some of the bite marks had split open, revealing red flesh beneath the white skin. The only thing untouched, the only thing that still resembled the Paige he knew, was her face. Perfect, beautiful. Jerry refused to look at the rest of her body, focusing only on her face, only on her eyes. The eyes that wouldn't look at Jerry, that couldn't look at Jerry because the creature next to her wouldn't allow it. Those eyes were as dead as Manny.
He couldn't close his eyes, couldn't let the black take over. He was forced to stare at her, even if he could pick the part of her he looked at.
"See, she's fine. And, really, she's not the person you were wanting. Not exactly. You see, Jerry, all your plotting to destroy me really didn't amount to much. I have my son again, and Paige, she won’t be Paige much longer. Her transformation into Brandi is almost complete. Another week maybe, and she'll be my wife again. You didn't see that one coming when you were burning those two alive, did you? Thought they were gone for good?"
Paige's face was so puffy it looked like she had been hit, except there were no bruises. The puffiness grew from her tears. Jerry heard Manny talking, but didn't really care what he said. All Jerry needed to know was what he saw in Paige's face, and the insanity that Manny spouted only confirmed what he saw there. Everyone in here was doomed and Paige only wanted that doom to come quickly.
Manny prattled on for a while, and the whole time Jerry wished his chip would simply start working. Jerry, the same as Paige, wished for death.
* * *
The apartment was dark, everything except for Manny's room, which Jerry couldn't see inside to know if he was asleep. The door completely shielded the inside of the room from Jerry's view in the hallway. He also didn't know if anyone else was sleeping, didn't know if Paige and Leon found any rest at all given that their entire bodies were controlled by someone else. Did Manny sleep? Or did he simply ruminate on the injustices of the world? Jerry lay in the hallway wondering if he should do what he wanted, wondering if it would end up causing more pain for those around him.
Except those thoughts only revealed to Jerry how little he understood Manny. He was acting like Manny still operated under normal restraints, that actions deserved appropriate responses. None of that was true any longer. Manny operated under his own rules, without restraints. Jerry could do what he wanted and it would have no effect on the pain Manny doled out after. His mind made the crimes and the punishments, and reality had no bearing on them.
So what did it matter if Jerry reached out to Caesar? In the end, just like Paige's eyes said, they were all doomed.
He didn't know if it was possible, if he would even be able to speak with Caesar, but he wanted to try. He wanted to see if Caesar was still alive, wanted to see if there was any chance left at all—not for the people in this apartment, Jerry understood that would never be a possibility—but whether there was a chance at defeating The Genesis.
Maybe you're as insane as Manny, he thought. Your head is lying on the floor and one eye doesn't work anymore. There is no chance at finding The Genesis, if there ever was one, you old, stupid man. Contact Caesar if you want, but understand: there is no chance and you're crazy for thinking there might still be.
It was the voice that had first spoken up at the compound, when he looked out at all those he was supposed to lead, all those that died in the desert. The voice that said he had been wrong, the entire time, and that he deserved this. And yet, the old cyborg wouldn't listen to it; he hadn't then and he wouldn't now.
The chip in his mind searched, not knowing where to begin, so spreading out through the city, looking for Caesar's unique imprint.
He thought it would take hours to find him, searching the entire quadrant, but his chip ran across the imprint within a few minutes.
Caesar? He said, an emotion welling up inside him that he hadn't thought he would feel ever again. Relief. Because if Caesar was here, in this city, then there was a chance. If Caesar still breathed, then they always had a chance and that old voice could shut the fuck up for a few more minutes. When Caesar was dead, that voice could have its say, but not until then.
Are you okay? Came the response. Immediate, as if Caesar had been sitting there waiting on Jerry to speak.
He chuckled instead of speaking, his mind laughing the way he wasn't sure his mouth could anymore.
None of us are okay, Jerry said after a second. How are you?
I'm trying to get inside there, Jerry. Keke is here, Grace too. We're trying but it's taking some time. The place, it's overrun with people that ingested some kind of virus. They're mad, Jerry, and I don't know why...not truly, I don't know why it's—
Caesar, Jerry interrupted. It's fine. Stop.
Silence came back from Caesar's mind.
There's nothing to do inside here. All we have left to do is die, and I think that's going to come soon enough. You don't need to be here, Caesar.
That's not true, Caesar answered.
It is. You've accessed my mind, I can tell—you know what's happening. You've seen it, at least some of it, and it's gotten worse. All you're going to do by coming here is get yourself killed, and then we all die for nothing. The ends, Caesar. Remember that. The ends are what matter, and the end has to be the end of it, of The Genesis.
I'm not leaving. Not without you all.
There is no more us! Jerry said, almost laughing at Caesar, at his simple and misplaced hope. The people you knew are no more. No one goes through this and makes it out the other side. If Paige were to leave tomorrow, it wouldn't be the Paige you knew. If Leon were to somehow escape, you would meet a very different man. Me? No operation in the world is fixing me, Caesar. If you come here, you risk everything for literally nothing.
Silence followed for a long time. The connection wasn't broken, but Jerry knew Caesar was thinking, was assessing Jerry's statements and contrasting them with his own feelings. Feelings, that's what Jerry had tried to eliminate. He wanted to get rid of Caesar's emotions, of the pieces that had made him ready to sacrifice himself for that little girl. Jerry thought he had done a decent job of it, thought that killing the autistic—and all the rest—hardened Caesar. Made him see the big picture and that all the little lives in the way could be sacrificed if needed. Had it worked though, or had Jerry just fooled himself, the same as he had with Manny?
It had to be this way. Caesar needed the ruthlessness, needed the ability to kill indiscriminately, including those that he loved most. Because the ends justified the means and the ends here were bigger than anything else the world had ever faced.
Caesar, listen to me—
No, Jerry. I'm coming and I'm going to save you.
Chapter Eighteen
Keke had been born in a tank. Everyone in this room had been born in a tank and then raised by applications. Keke remembered those that were closest to her back then; one's name had been Charlotte, an application that sounded like a woman and seemed to genuinely care about Keke. Made sure her teeth were brushed, that she completed her homework, and that she enjoyed the time spent with friends.
All the people in this room had to have a similar experience. All of them had to remember the applications, if not the tanks. Had to remember how the humans who looked after the children, who looked after the crops, were little more than cooks and maids. And if they did remember that, then it made this conversation that much more insane.
"It makes sense," said one of the people sitting around the table with her. She didn't know him. She didn't know a
lot of people here, and wasn't quite sure why she had been invited. She still lived in this building, still did her job, but these people—they were the decision makers. Nine people around the table, and one of them her. Kendrick told her to come, and now that she was here, she wanted to be anywhere else.
"You infiltrate early and then everyone that comes out is dedicated to your cause."
Keke didn't know what to say. She didn't dare speak up, because she saw how fucking crazy they all sounded. The Genesis controlled the crops. The Genesis was in charge of Population Control and no group was going to infiltrate it. The children were perhaps the most important thing The Genesis had, the future of the human race, the only way to truly guarantee that things continued as they ‘should’. Even with all this madness going on in the cities, the next crop of children wouldn't be infected. The next crop of children would be the new normal, the regression to the mean, and these people would die off.
Unless the crops were destroyed.
Which this group was discussing.
The table turned to look at Kendrick, who apparently had been appointed by the closest thing to God that anyone in this room had ever seen—the man in black, the Representative. Everything still needed to be run through the man in black, but all of those things went through Kendrick first. He approached the man in black, no one else. And now everyone here looked at Kendrick, wanting to get his thoughts on this new suggestion. To attack Population Control. To attack the crops in Quadrant Four and burn them to the ground.
"There's some logic in it," the man said and Keke realized, fully for the first time, how bad things can get when you have the mean making decisions. When you have those that are completely average deciding the direction of large groups. The logic wasn't there. The logic was twisted, insane, and only brought on because everyone at this table had taken a pill.
That fact alone should have been a huge sign that none of this was right. That what they were doing was induced, not organic. But their trust in The Genesis, their trust in the man in black, all of it blinded them from what was so obvious. Those that hadn't taken the pills were being murdered in the streets, and now the group was no longer searching for bogeymen—they were creating them.
The others didn't takethe anti-virus because it would have killed them right on the spot. The way it was done allowed us to identify them.
That's what someone told Keke when she mentioned it to them, quietly and with no one else around.
And yet, it wasn't just these mediocre people making decisions. The man in black, whoever he was, had direct connections to The Genesis it seemed. While these foot soldiers carried out orders, the plans were made elsewhere, they had to be. This had to be okayed by someone or something, and that was scarier than these idiots deciding they needed to murder a bunch of five year olds. These people couldn't be forgiven, but maybe their stupidity could be pitied. Someone else, though, was rationalizing all of this, and Keke couldn't figure out why.
The Genesis couldn't okay this. There's no way it would allow an entire crop to be annihilated at the whims of the people around this table. This would be stopped.
"Does anyone think this isn't a good idea to ask the Representative about?"
Keke didn't raise a hand, didn't even raise an eyebrow. She just watched from her spot, looking at all the other people with their hands flat on the table, completely comfortable with the decision just made.
"Okay then; I'll check it in and see what he says."
* * *
Kendrick had been completely serious. There wasn't any joking, wasn't any teasing. The man wanted to attack Population Control.
"What makes you think The Named has gotten inside?"
"What makes you think they haven't?" Kendrick responded.
And again it went back to what could Theo really say? That Kendrick was wrong, and more, was probably somewhat insane by this point?
Theo sent Kendrick away telling him he would think about it. And that just meant he was going to turn around and send this to Mock, because the idea was so intensely crazy, even that psycho would have to say no. Destroying crops was worse than murder. It wasn't just unheard of; it was sacrilegious—akin to desecrating one of those old crosses. Children were glorified, they were coveted, and only allotted to the select few, and this moron had come in here saying The Named was inside one of the farms, maybe even inside the tanks, creating little Named operatives all over the place.
Theo had to smile at the thought, because he had finally found a place to stop. Or, if not stop, then slow down the madness. There were lines that couldn't be crossed, no matter what was at stake, and this was one of those. This might actually be the only one, but finally, at last, there was something to fall back on.
The whole train ride over, Theo thought about what this meant. That maybe they could pull back completely, that maybe they could let this thing taper off, stop supporting it, realize that it had gone far enough. Maybe, bless The Genesis, Theo would live through this. That one thought, more than any other, filled him with an elation so heavy that he thought it might crush his entire body. He could live through this. These psychos beneath him had finally overstepped their boundaries and they would have to pull back. Theo would wind it all down perfectly, however Mock wanted—and in the end, he could go back to his apartment and deal with his own soul, think on it for the rest of his life, but at least he would have a life. That was more than he had hoped, just to live. Just to continue breathing.
Theo stepped off the train and right onto Mock's porch. He could see Mock through the window, or its back anyway, and it appeared to be staring straight ahead at the wall. No entertainment center on, no scroll for it to read, just sitting there doing nothing. Except Theo knew that wasn't the case; Mock never did nothing. It was always planning, plotting, readying itself for whatever came next. Did it know Theo was here, or was it somehow checked out, so deep in thought that it didn't know the train had dropped him off?
If it didn't know, if it was in some kind of deep trance, could Theo...
Kill it?
The very thought filled him with a horror and glee that felt disgusting, a mixture that didn’t fit together. Yet he wanted to do it. Theo wanted to go in there and stab something straight through Mock's neck, severing all those wires and moving parts that it so arrogantly showed everyone. He hoped Mock would make a noise when it happened, hoped that it would try to say something, to cry out in shock or something more.
But he was getting ahead of himself—could he do it? Could he kill this thing, slip inside, and puncture its body with something sharp?
"Theo, stop standing outside, and come in," Mock's words sliced through his thoughts, ending the mini coup building inside Theo's head. The horror and glee churning inside him disappeared, replaced quickly with a thick depression. Embarrassment as well, embarrassment at having fooled himself—even if just for a second—into thinking that he would find some way out of this. He wasn't getting out. He wasn't killing Mock. He wasn't going to do anything but what Mock told him. Even coming here, thinking that what he was about to ask might somehow let him break free of Mock's iron grasp, was silly. Stupid. Mock had heard him arrive, was completely aware of what was going on, and Theo had been standing here thinking that he would somehow kill it.
He looked down at his feet and walked through the door, moving into the house.
"What were you doing out there?" Mock asked, not turning around.
"Thinking."
"About what?"
Theo walked around to the front of the couch Mock sat on, standing between it and the wall.
"About when you're going to die."
Mock's eyes registered him for the first time, but once they did, they tracked him as easily as a serpent does prey. "What makes you think I'm going to die?"
"Everything dies," Theo said.
"When was the last time you knew an application to die?"
The two of them stared at each other in silence. Theo didn't have an answer to the que
stion. Everything dies, except The Genesis and that which spawned from it. Theo would die, but not Mock. And why had he told Mock he was thinking something like that in the first place? Why?
Because it might hasten your own death, his mind answered.
"See my point?" Mock asked, and then stood up. "Let's go back out to the porch. The weather is nice outside." It walked off and Theo followed like a dog after its master.
"So what's brought you here, Theo?"
"They want to attack Population Control," he answered as he watched Mock walk to the wall to wall porch windows. The application put its hands behind its back, looking eerily serene as it stared out at the world beneath.
"That was quicker than I thought."
"Than you thought?" Theo asked.
"Well, yeah. I thought they would wait another week, probably."
"What do you mean? Why would you think they would ever come up with something so stupid?"
"Because I suggested it to them, Theo," Mock said, turning around so that those serene eyes landed on Theo again. "Because that's what I want them to do."
Theo was dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. A silence filled the porch, one that terrified Theo and excited Mock. Made it happy, even.
"Have you told them to go ahead?"
Theo shook his head slowly, his mouth still open.
"Well, when you get back, tell them to get started—that there are most definitely some Named operatives inside, and we need to destroy the crops and start over."
"You can't be serious," Theo said, the words finally forming in his throat.
"Oh yes, I am. I have ways of communicating that supercede the way you humans do, and I made sure that the thought was planted in the correct places. I just figured I would have to remind them a few more times. Good to see that I don't, though—it will hasten things."