Paradise of Lead Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  "It's been locked down, sir. Isidore should be able to get it going again. He's in the central control room. In other news, the space transport has left. Damien and Byron should be returning soon."

  "What about Isidore? They left without him?"

  "Give me a minute. I'm working as fast as I can. Isidore, find the security monitor."

  He looks around at all of the computers. As he goes down the rows of monitors, he realizes that this isn't the right room for that. "Guys, this is just the security camera room. There's not actually anything that controls security functions in here."

  "Okay. First things first. You stay calm. Stop freaking out." Blice says.

  "I'm not freaking out."

  "Your blood pressure says otherwise. Oh shit."

  "What?" Isidore asks.

  "The oxygen generators are completely offline."

  "What am I going to do?"

  "Check your watch for a hologram that is simulating the security system override panel. If you can enter the correct string of numbers, it will reverse the lockdown and the oxygen generators should come back online." Blice says.

  "How do I know what to type in?"

  "Give me that." Clara says then she speaks directly to Isidore. "Hi there, Isidore. I need you look through your files for a sequence of fifteen numbers that will fit into that space. You have to try every one that you can find. Get looking."

  Isidore pulls up the programs in his mind and looks through until he finds what he's looking for. "Starting the scan now."

  "I really hope you have something in there that will work. With all the Inquisition files you have on you, you should have something that works."

  "I also have an external memory with me that I am looking through as well." Isidore says.

  "Good. Whose idea was it to give you additional memory?"

  "Mine. I stole Blice's flash drive."

  "Hey!" Blice shouts.

  "Sorry. I needed it."

  "That's okay, Niko." Blice says. "I was going to give it to you anyway. Find anything yet?"

  "Here's one." Isidore types it in but the hologram flashes red. "Nope. Still searching."

  "While you're looking, I need to ask you some questions." Clara says. "Who is Inquisitor Dark?"

  "No idea. He was wearing a mask. He is about seven feet tall and I'd guess three hundred pounds."

  "Damn. Blice, is there anyone in the Inquisition like that?" Clara asks.

  "That's a big guy. No. No one. Someone that tall would stand out."

  "Isidore, anything?" Clara asks.

  "I don't know. I'm out of options. I've scanned all the files in my microchip and in my external memory. None of the numbers match. I don't have any more to try." Isidore sinks down to the floor and holds his knees to his chest. He buries his face in his arms. Then he notices something. He holds up his arms and looks at the glowing white numbers there. No. It can't be. He presses the button his watch again. "Actually, Blice, I think I have one more set of numbers to try. It's a long shot, but it might work. Remember those glowing numbers that appeared on my arms when I almost overloaded my microchip?"

  "Yeah."

  "I wonder if they would work." Isidore says.

  "No. Don't!" Clara shouts. "Those are directly linked to the security system. If you enter them, it could shut you down permanently."

  "I have to try."

  "Run the probabilities in your program and tell me the percentage chances it gives you." Blice says.

  The data goes through his mind and then the statistics appear. Isidore's heart sinks. "Um, Blice?"

  "What is it? What did it say?"

  "I have a five percent chance of surviving it and that's if all the files I have with me aren't corrupted already. I don't have a firewall up, so it should be a bit safer, right?"

  "Isidore . . . I can't give you authorization to do this." Blice says. "Even without a firewall, your chances are still under ten percent."

  "What else am I supposed to do? I can't die in here, Blice. Me staying in here and not taking action is a one hundred percent chance of me dying. I may be mostly computer, but I still have the mortal body of a human."

  "I know. I know. I'm working with the technology department right now and as soon as they know something, I will let you know."

  Isidore taps the watch again and the oxygen level sensor flashes red then beeps a warning sound. "I'm running out of air."

  "Give us an hour." Blice says.

  "I only have forty-five minutes of oxygen left."

  "Thirty minutes, then. We will have you an answer in thirty minutes. Stay on here with me. I want to hear you talking so I know you're alive."

  "Do you have Damien and Byron?" Isidore asks. "Have they returned to you yet? It's been twenty minutes. It's a ten minute trip."

  "No. Damn it. I didn't want to tell you yet."

  "Tell me what?" Isidore asks.

  No answer.

  "You didn't want to tell me what, Blice?"

  "Their transport . . . was shot down upon reentry."

  Isidore sits down in one of the chairs. "What?"

  "Common Ground shot them down with their missile defense system." Clara says.

  Isidore holds his head in his hands. No way. That can't be right.

  "Isidore?"

  He ignores them as his throat tightens.

  "Isidore, talk to me. Let me know you're there. Niko?"

  Isidore takes off his watch and tosses it across the room. He feels the cold as his veins disconnect from the metal. This isn't right. Nothing about this is right.

  Minutes go by as Clara and Blice call over and over, but Isidore doesn't answer. He wants to stay here and not think about things. As the tears roll down his face, his exhaustion sweeps over him and he falls asleep, despite the imminent danger.

  * * *

  The extremely loud beeping from his watch wakes up Isidore and he gasps for air. It's difficult to breathe and no matter how much air he takes into his lungs, he feels lightheaded and out of breath. He crawls over to his watch and straps it back around his wrist. "Blice."

  "Niko, what happened?"

  "I can't breathe."

  "What does your oxygen sensor say?"

  He taps the screen. Zero. "None. There is next to no oxygen left in this room. I'm starting to black out. I have to do something."

  "I haven't heard back from Inquisitor Clark yet. Hold on a little longer."

  "Blice, I'm out of air."

  "Stay with me. Don't do anything crazy." Blice orders.

  He goes back over to the hologram. "I know I'm disobeying orders and you can punish me however you want to when I get back, but I am entering the numbers into the system."

  13

  Blice is shouting every insult and derogatory name Isidore has ever heard and more at him while he types in the numbers. Something crashes and Clara screams. Isidore ignores them. Five percent is better than zero percent. If he doesn't do this, it's over. Even now, the oxygen levels in the room are so low that Isidore is having trouble finding the numbers on his arms and typing them in. He forces himself to stay awake until the last number is entered. His vision begins to blur and he falls to the floor just as the security alarms stop, the metal doors slide open, and the air begins to circulate throughout the space station.

  Isidore takes a long, much needed breath of oxygen. His face is on the cold slick floor and he stays there recovering for a few minutes as Blice's panicked swearing echoes in the room. Isidore is finally able to sit up and lean back against the wall. He holds his wrist up. "Shut up, Blice."

  "Niko! You're alive." Blice says, overly joyous.

  "It worked."

  "You don't sound very good."

  "I almost died, bastard." Isidore mumbles.

  "Let me talk to him." Clara says. "Isidore, just stay there for a few minutes and allow your body some time to get back to fully functioning. We are keeping a close eye on your oxygen levels in your blood. The oxygen circulation system on the space station
still isn't at the level it should be, but it is good enough for you to make it down to the hangar and get out of there. There should be extra transports."

  "I didn't see any when we came in here."

  "Get down there and we will figure out a plan from there."

  Isidore stands up and has to catch himself from falling. Today has been hell on his body. Blice is probably going to make him undergo a full diagnostic test on all of his processes. What does Isidore want to do more than anything else? Curl up under the blankets on his bed and sleep for days. Oh, and a bath. Though, he knows that isn't going to happen. Blice is going to run tests and then Isidore will be punished for disobeying orders. It's coming and he knows it. Blice is furious.

  He pulls up the holographic map on his watch and slowly makes his way thought the ship, trying to not look around too much, afraid of what other gruesome details he'll find. The large metal doors slide open and he steps into the hangar.

  "Isidore, over here." Someone waves to him from across the room.

  He goes towards the familiar voice and smiles as he reaches the transport. "I thought you left already."

  Byron crosses his arms. "No. We were waiting on you."

  "Blice said you were shot down by Common Ground."

  "That's kind of hard for them to do if we haven't even left yet." Damien says. "Anyway, we're out of fuel."

  Isidore quickly looks through his files. He knows he remembers something about these space transports. There it is. He opens the file and searches through it. Alternative fuels. "Blice, there's no fuel in the transport. Can we use an alternative fuel source?"

  "There's no alcohol on board the space station."

  "Wanna bet?" Isidore reaches down under the front seat and holds up Byron's nearly full bottle of Alezi Blue. "Byron brought tequila."

  "Maybe I don't hate my brother as much as I first believed. However, I don't know if it will be enough. It needs to be at least 90 proof."

  "Oh, it's way past 90 proof." Byron says. "You're good."

  Isidore turns the bottle in his hands. "Dear God, Byron. You control fire, right? How have you not just randomly ignited? This stuff is 160 proof. Where do you even find this stuff?"

  "That's my little secret. Now sacrifice my precious tequila so we can get out of this place."

  * * *

  Once they land in the desert outside of Paradise, Isidore climbs out and falls flat on his face in the sand.

  "You okay, buddy?" Byron pokes him in the side with the toe of his boot.

  Isidore spreads his arms and legs out, feeling the security of the earth below him. Well, that settles it. He's never leaving this planet again. He says a quick prayer thanking God that he wasn't one of the T.I.M.E.s made to live up there. He rolls over and looks up at the hot sun. The air is sweet and fills his lungs. He could fall asleep right here.

  "So, are you going back into Paradise?" Damien asks.

  "I have to."

  Byron and Damien look at each other.

  "What?" Isidore asks.

  "Stay out here with us. You can come back to the Rubble Rebels." Byron says.

  Isidore stands and brushes the sand from his clothes. "No. I belong with Blice. He's my owner."

  "What if you lived as a free man for a bit? Wouldn't you like that?" Damien asks.

  "I don't think so." Isidore says as he puts on his red sunglasses and grabs his blanket from inside the transport. "Blice needs me and as much as he's going to punish me for disobeying him, I need him too."

  "He's going to beat you. Don't you see that? You went against orders."

  Isidore takes off towards the lead gates. "I deserve it."

  Damien calls out to him. "Blice will torture you!"

  "Then listen for my screams."

  * * *

  Isidore turns down the street towards Blice's house and sees him and Clara outside waiting on him.

  "Niko!" Blice runs to him and embraces him. He spins him around. "I'm so glad you're safe. Let me look at you." He goes around Isidore examining him. "We'll run a full diagnostic test and make sure everything is working correctly."

  "I knew you'd say that."

  Clara is smiling at him.

  "Come here, you." Isidore picks up Clara and kisses her. He holds her close as he tastes her sweet mouth and the smoothness of her tongue.

  "Oh my. What has gotten into you?" Clara asks.

  "I don't know. Maybe being miles above the planet and afraid for my life made me rethink some things and realize something that I have been trying to hide."

  Clara wraps her arms around Isidore's waist and buries her face in his chest. "Never scare me like that again. I was so afraid I had lost you."

  Isidore holds onto her and closes his eyes. "Forgive me."

  "You're forgiven . . . but only if you kiss me again."

  He tangles his fingers in her warm black hair and lifts her face to meet his lips.

  Blice clears his throat and crosses his arms.

  Isidore pulls away from Clara and goes to Blice's side. He looks down at the concrete and tries to not image what Blice is going to do now. As if he wasn't in enough trouble to begin with. "Blice, I'm-"

  "Enough. Go inside and to my office. I don't want you to say another word out here." Blice orders.

  "Yes, sir." Isidore goes towards the door.

  "Don't hurt him, Blice." Clara says.

  Blice follows Isidore to the house. "We will be in contact later, Ms. Lifestone. Thank you for your help."

  Isidore feels Blice's eyes glaring at him as he goes down the hallway to the office. He steps inside and Blice shuts the door.

  "What's that on your hand?" Blice asks.

  Isidore looks down. Oh. The ring. "It's the rejuvenation ring."

  Blice moves towards him. "Where did you get that? I've been looking for that."

  He drops to his knees. "Inquisitor Dark had it and was trying to find a way to install it in my brain. I took it after he ran away. Forgive me. I wasn't trying to hide it from you. You can have it back."

  "What's wrong? Why are you acting like this?" Blice kneels down and takes him in his arms. "Niko, I'm not upset. I'm so happy to have you back."

  "I thought you were mad at me. I disobeyed you." Isidore says.

  "I don't care. You did what you needed to do and I am beyond proud that you were courageous enough to do that."

  "You're not going to punish me?"

  "I'm never going to hurt you again." Blice says. "I have realized how wrong I have been this entire time. You are my friend and my partner. I should start treating you as such."

  Really? He looks up into those violet eyes and sees nothing but sincerity. He takes the ring off and hands it to Blice. "Here."

  "Thank you. I don't want to you to be submissive to me anymore. I'm done following my father's rules." He stands and holds out his hand to Isidore. "Be my equal, Niko."

  Is this some kind of trick or cruel joke? Equals? Isidore takes Blice's hand and stands in front of him.

  "You're my equal now in everything other than rank in the Inquisition. We are brothers, friends, and partners. I can't expect you to fight for me and be there for me when I need you if I am constantly berating you and humiliating you. From now on, Isidore Williams, I will defend you, commend you, and build you up instead of abandoning you, abusing you, and tearing you down. Will you be here for me as you always have?"

  The two of them lock eyes and Isidore smiles. "I'm here for you, Blice."

  "As friends?"

  "Through hell and Paradise."

  Blice smiles and embraces Isidore. "I don't deserve you, buddy."

  "Thank you, Blice. This is all I've wanted . . . to make you happy and proud of me."

  "I was proud of you a long time ago." Blice goes to the little refrigerator in the corner and pulls out two cans of beer. "Have a beer with me, Niko."

  He hands one to Isidore then holds his up in the air. "To a new life for us, as friends and equals."

  Isidore holds up his
beer. "To us." They drink and Isidore smiles. Is this actually happening?

  "As equals, I feel that you are entitled to know the truth about you, your body, and your family." Blice sits behind his desk. "Have a seat, please. I will attempt to explain this in the simplest way possible."

  He sits across from Blice who isn't smiling anymore. "What is it?"

  "It's time I tell you the truth. I'm not holding anything back and as painful as it might be for you, I will divulge everything I know."

  "Blice, what's this about?" Isidore asks.

  "You weren't born."

  "What?"

  "The reason you are one of a kind is because . . . you're the only T.I.M.E. who wasn't human to begin with."

  "What are you saying? Blice, you're not saying what I think you're saying."

  "You were created in the laboratory." Blice says. "Your parents weren't really your parents. The Inquisition used some aspects of their DNA to make a pseudo human. In essence, you're more like an android. The scientists altered the DNA with radiation and replaced some of your genes with artificial ones. You were supposed to be the perfect pseudo human. Only the very basic parts of you even resemble a human. Your skin and the composition of your body aren't even the same as a human. That's how you are able to heal so quickly."

  Not human? "How is that even possible? I don't understand. What about my emotions and thoughts?"

  "You've been programmed to be the way you are. When I received you for my birthday, I changed all of your personality simulators so you would be who I wanted you to be. So, you aren't human. At all. You look like a human and work like a human, but you never were and you never will be human. Your organs were designed to mimic human organs and now most of yours are completely artificial anyway. No one other than my father still knows. If you want, you can go on living like you are part human. I won't treat you any differently now that you know."

  Isidore holds his head in his hands. Is this true? A wave of helplessness washes over him and he doesn't know what to do or think or believe.

  "I didn't tell you sooner because I didn't want you to be crushed. I didn't know how you would take it."

  Who else has known all this time? Just when Isidore is beginning to come to terms with being human, he finds out that it was all a lie. There is nothing human about him. He is the product of an experiment, a laboratory, and the demands of scientists. He was created to be a slave and nothing more. This is his fate and he was a fool for ever aspiring to anything else. "If I was created to serve you and obey orders, then why give me freewill? Why make me be able to feel physical and emotional pain?"