by Drew Avera
“Why not be a man and do it yourself?” I winced, half-expecting another jolt of searing pain for continuing my resolve. I knew I had little fight left, but if I died doing the right thing, it would be worth it.
A chuckle sounded in my head and I realized the voice was not my imagination, but someone speaking directly to me. The conversation was real, but from where did it originate? “Conspiracies only succeed when there is no evidence to prove they exist, Pollux. You should know better than most that to manipulate society, one must control the narrative. You cannot control it if the truth runs parallel to the lie. Eventually, someone will look from a better vantage point and discover it.”
“There is no honor in it, even if you’re the only one who knows how you won. How can you go through life with that weighing on your conscious?”
Another chortle followed by the clicking on his tongue on his teeth. “I’m at peace with what I have done. Are you?”
For the first time in my life after the programming, I was asked a question about how I felt and could not answer it. I could not tell if it was a mental block, or if the perplexities of the mind finally reformed my sense of humanity once stamped out of existence. Knowing I was almost restored before being reclaimed stabbed at my heart.
I wanted peace and would never have it. Where is the justice in that?
“You don’t have to answer, Pollux. I chose you because I knew the answer. I knew the burden of your heart. I suppose you could say I planted it there.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will,” he said, then the voice was gone.
Alone in the shadows, overlooking the Southern Sector, I held my breath, fighting to keep time from ticking forward, but it was too late.
I was moments away from doing something terrible.
My thoughts returned to my vision of holding another man’s head in my hands, tearing and ripping through his face as he gurgled, choking on his blood as I continued to squeeze. I was the man capable of such horror, despite my shame. I just hoped whatever was coming would not haunt me in the same way.
Wishful thinking, I thought, but in whose voice I did not know.
A moment later, I leaped over the railing and descended into the darkness, propelled to do the bidding of a monster.
Twenty-Nine
Akran
I couldn’t stop the rampant tapping of my foot as I waited nervously for Micah and Halem to arrive. I didn’t want to bring attention to myself, and thankfully Zeravan and Ainya were too busy casually dissecting their expectations for the evening. I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope Zeravan was right and that the evening would be an epic failure for Halem’s need to observe life at night in the Southern Sector. This was dangerous and none of us had any business going there.
This is ridiculous, I thought. Since when did members of the World Council not have business in every aspect of life on Mars?
Since we lost control.
It was the only logical answer.
“How are you feeling?” Roslyn asked, coming in close enough to whisper without gaining the attention of the others.
“I just want to get this over with,” I replied.
“We don’t have to do this. You can back out at any time.”
He was right, but he knew as well as I did that I wasn’t about to go back on my word. “I’m intent to see this through.”
“Very well. Let me know if you need anything. I’m good at distractions if you want one.”
The flirtatious way he said it caught me off guard and I couldn’t hide the snicker forming. “Stop it,” I said. “This is serious.”
“I know, but you don’t want be all stiff when he arrives, do you?” The euphemism wasn’t lost on me, but I had little intention on responding to it. His joke fell flatter than he intended as it showed in his body language. It probably showed in mine as well. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I sighed. “I’m just not much in the mood for banter. I’m afraid we’re going to see the worst of Clenist at a time when we’re most fragile.” Those were my words, but what I meant was I felt insecure and fragile. I was scared for myself, not for anyone else. I felt like a victim still, and it made me angry, mostly at myself.
Roslyn placed his hand on mine and looked at me with his piercing blue eyes. “You don’t need to be afraid, Akran. This is a field trip and nothing more. I’m sure Micah has security patrolling the area to ensure it’s safe. He doesn’t strike me as the type to expose himself unnecessarily.”
I forced a smile and patted his hand. “I’m sure you’re right,” I said, keeping my doubts to myself.
“Is everyone ready to ride out?” Micah asked, obnoxiously loud as he and Halem approached. He walked with a swagger that made him come across more like a poser than anyone exuberating true confidence. I noticed Roslyn had the same perception as he chortled and hid his mouth with his free hand.
“We were just waiting on you to deliver our guest of honor, Micah,” Ainya said as he waved a hand flippantly above his head.
“Well, consider me delivered,” Halem said in his gruff sort of way as he plopped into his seat, keeping his right hand on the railing above.
Micah fell into place and cranked the cart, easing off the brake and letting it drive through the secured World Council parking garage. It was mostly empty as several members chose not to purchase personal transportation, and instead used public transit to cut down on emissions. It was a practical decision to keep the filtration system operating nominally, but certainly wasn’t adopted by every member. Micah had his car parked nearest the door, underneath the security cameras.
It was ironic considering how close he lived to work. He could walk there in less than ten minutes, yet he prided himself in demonstrating his wealth at every opportunity. He was a human peacock, a description spoken more than once within the confines of the council, just out of his earshot. I wondered how he would react if he knew we said those things about him?
Ultimately, I dismissed the question due to a lack of interest. I had other things vying for my attention as Micah eased the cart out of the parking garage and onto the main street.
“Pontiff, do you have any plans to open a permanent office in Clenist?” Micah asked as he turned south at the next intersection.
I leaned closer, wanting to know with morbid curiosity whether that was in the plans, or just wishful thinking on my part. “I have no plans for that now, but as Clenist continues to grow, and more cities rise, I can see the need to visit regularly. There’s just too much on our plate to focus on moving locations when so much more needs to be addressed besides what color to paint the walls of a temporary office.”
I watched as Micah’s grin faded ever so slightly as the wind left his sails. I imagined he spent hours rehearsing the question before this moment, anticipating a resounded “yes”. Instead, he was shot down with the most politically conservative response possible.
I glanced over to Roslyn to see him fighting back a chuckle, the corners of his eyes creasing as he pressed his hand harder against his mouth. He wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his response until he realized Micah was glaring at him through the rearview mirror.
“I’m sure that Pontiff Scrimpshire will be a regular visitor to our city after this trip,” I said, trying to alleviate some of the tension I saw in the cobalt glare shifting from Roslyn to me.
“Of course, there is no reason to set up a permanent residence yet,” Halem said. his words softened Micah’s gaze, but he still kept an eye on me. His knowing stare grew unsettling until I shifted away.
“Of course,” Micah said as he turned the cart down another darkened street. “I just hoped we would have easier access to him is all. This city deserves as much attention as Archea enjoys.”
“You’re right, Micah,” Halem said after clearing his throat. “But I hope you know that we think you’ve done an excellent job representing Clenist for the World Council. You shouldn’t sell your efforts too short. You
stepped up in Clenist’s time of need and you’ve done an amazing job despite the bumps along the way. Everyone in Archea believes in what you’re doing here.”
A long silence followed before Micah responded. “Don’t worry, sir. I don’t sell myself short at all.”
“That’s good,” Halem replied with an awkward grin.
I was glad I wasn’t the only one unsettled by Micah’s semi-defensive response. I wondered what was going through both of their minds in that moment, but it was hard to tell as another wave of silence fell over our group until the Southern Sector came into view, her towering buildings casting the area in dark shadows the further from the center of the city you looked. My fear returned with a vengeance as I tightened my grip on Roselyn’s hand. This was it, and I wanted desperately to turn around and run the other way.
“Here we are, Pontiff,” Micah said, his voice low, almost haunting.
No one responded.
Thirty
Halem
Micah slowed the cart to a stop. The shadows made the street feel narrow and tight as a tinge of claustrophobia nudged at my gut. In the awkward silence I could hear myself swallowing down the fear creeping over me.
How long had it been since I was in danger? Not perceived, but the legitimate I might die at any moment, danger?
The last time I recalled was standing before the World Council with Tetrim at gunpoint as the Guard closed in on me. Just the thought of it sent shivers down my spine. There was no logical reason I should have walked out of that situation alive. But here I stood, more than a decade later, looking into the inky blackness of southern Clenist, the most dangerous area on Mars after the sun went down.
“Are you getting cold feet?” Micah asked, his voice tighter than he expected, I was sure.
“I don’t get cold feet,” I said defiantly, prodding my ego in a lame attempt at hyping myself for the worst. Why did I suggest this again?
“Sir, I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but it’s probably a good idea to leave before any of us regret coming here,” Zeravan said, leaning over Akran to whisper and be heard.
“Nonsense,” Micah interjected as he waved dismissively. “Pontiff Scrimpshire wanted to see this and I have law enforcement on full-alert. All it takes is a summons and the cavalry will come running.”
“Really?” I asked without meaning to. My skepticism soundly like a weak plea to my ears.
Micah smirked and adjusted his jacket collar casually. “Of course, sir. It would have been irresponsible not to set everything in place just in case. I don’t think any of us in this cart are asking for trouble. Right?”
Something sounded off by his words and by the time I looked over to Micah, he had stepped out of the cart and raised a handgun in my direction.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Ainya cried, clamoring out of the cart, either to run or to attack Micah. But within a breath, the young councilman took aim and fired two shots into Ainya’s chest. The report of gunfire reverberated against the tall buildings, reflected off the dome, and resounded in our ears like the dull thump of a hollow bell.
I about fell out of my seat as Akran shrieked, feebly hiding behind Roslyn as the man scooted towards her side of the cart like a fierce, but terrified protector.
“Micah, I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?” I asked flatly, as the blood drained from my face. My chest tightened and it took a long moment for me to realize I hadn’t drawn a breath since I saw his weapon. I gasped, but it left me craving more.
“You don’t understand, do you? Why am I not surprised, Halem? You come here, playing the role of king, when everyone knows that you’re a puppet. You let Clenist wallow in its own filth as crime rose. It wasn’t until your ex-fling was attacked that you suddenly cared what happened under our dome. Are you really so daft that you can’t understand why this would come back to haunt you?”
His words struck a chord with me and I swallowed back a flurry of curses and apologies, not knowing how he would respond to either. I was afraid and without words; two things I hadn’t experienced in a long time. “We can work this out,” I said, barely over a whisper.
Micah scoffed. “It’s too late to work it out, Halem. All that’s left is getting what we’re owed, a revolution.”
“Revolution isn’t murdering someone in cold blood,” Akran spat from behind Roslyn. Her defiance betrayed her as she slunk back when Micah eyed her, his trigger finger nestling against the guard expectantly.
“Micah, please?” my plea came from a point of dominatable weakness; of fear.
“Please what?” Micah spat the indignant question back at me. Gone was the man who went out of his way to stand out to me and I couldn’t tell which version of him was true. Was it all an act, all these years of him seeking approval as he plotted against me?
“I—”
“That’s the Halem I remember,” a voice said from the darkness. “Always irreverent until you hold the power. It doesn’t feel so hot when your authority is as meaningless as your next breath does it?”
I cut my eyes to the sound of the man speaking, but the face I saw didn’t match the voice. “I don’t understand.”
He scoffed while brushing back a tuft of white hair with his hand. It was as the dull glow of the emergency lighting caught his face at the right angle that I saw the truth, this man wore someone else’s face. I imagined most people wouldn’t recognize it, but I knew what to look for, the darkness around the eyes, the pinpoint scars that never truly faded. I saw them every day on Pollux’s face. “How am I not surprised that you didn’t see this coming? Your ego is too much for you sometimes.”
“Who are you?” Akran asked. I heard the trembling in her voice. I felt it myself but didn’t want to acknowledge it.
“You don’t remember me, Akran? I’m truly hurt.” The sing-song phrasing of his words joggled my memory and I couldn’t contain it.
“Etan,” I said under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear me.
“Oh, you do understand, don’t you, Halem? Your past has a tendency to come back and haunt you. Tell me, does this revelation come with the same sting as knowing the partner you thought was dead was the man who killed your wife?” He shot a toothy grin and I wanted to lash out and knock a few down his throat. “I always wondered if I could ever upstage that kind of betrayal.”
“I thought you were dead.” That was the understatement of the century. I thought I buried him in the darkest reaches of my past, but like the monster under your bed, he never seemed to stop lurking.
“I am dead, Halem. Thank you for that. I had to give up a life in service to the people to come and hide with the trash in this slum you set in motion.”
“I had nothing to do with this,” I said weakly.
“No? Were you not the one who signed Executive Order 197 to disband the Agency?”
That rang a bell. It was the last thing passed before Pollux revealed Etan’s plan to have me killed. I thought without the threat of the Agency, that society would work itself out without living in fear. How was this the catalyst that set everything in motion? I always assumed it was mine and Akran’s relationship.
“I signed it based on your advice. I had no idea it would result in this,” I replied stoically.
“Of course, you didn’t. How could you? You were too wrapped up in your little world, weren’t you?” He cut his eyes to Akran and clicked his tongue against his teeth.
“What do you want, an apology?” My question was more defiant than I intended while standing at gunpoint. It was obvious Micah had a hair trigger as Ainya lay dead on the other side of the cart. But this was personal, and I would be damned if I took whatever came without a fight.
“Apologies are for those who think they did something wrong,” Etan replied. “But you’re never in the wrong, are you, Halem? No, you are the same self-righteous prick you’ve always been. The only difference is that you sit at the seat of power, consolidating your authority to expand beyond what the World Council
envisioned. What is the old saying, ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely’? You’re a walking stereotype. Pathetic, but it’s true.”
“Then what do you want? If it was for me to die, then Micah would have pulled the trigger already instead of making a show of it.”
My words seemed to register something as Etan’s eyes shifted. “You’re right, you smug bastard. I do have something planned.” With those words dozens of men stepped out of the shadows and into the dim emergency lighting. The pale green glow cast an evil hue over them, just as I was sure Etan intended. “Let me introduce you to the world you helped create.”
With a snap of Etan’s fingers, mayhem erupted as the crowd of men rioted. The sound of shattering glass accompanied by the wails of men resounded around us, mocking the agency of modern civilization.
“Do you think tearing the Southern Sector apart is a righteous cause?” I asked. “You would do more for society by building it up than by tearing it down. All you’re doing is becoming the monster you accuse me of being.”
“Is that so, Halem?” Etan spat back as Micah stepped over to him. Micah smiled back like a child looking into his father’s eyes as Etan placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder while taking the gun from him. “Monsters come in many shapes and sizes. Humanity, in and of itself, is monstrous. It doesn’t allow logic to dictate its behavior, but it is directed by an emotional response triggered by impulse. You should know better than anyone that you can change the face of men, but not their hearts.”
“So, you’re saying your heart has always been this wicked? I suppose that answers why you put a hit on me years ago when I thought you were my friend.” My heart pounded and I felt at the knees from standing tense for so long. I staggered a moment before catching myself on the railing of the cart.
Etan’s gaze hardened enough that it wiped Micah’s grin off his face. The air grew chill and I fought against taking a step back. I had never seen this look in his eyes before.