While Blice and Isidore go down into the mines where the computers used to be and attempt to salvage something, Damien and Seth head to what's left of the old science laboratory. That's where it all happened. Now it is a standing testament to the lives that were lost that day when one man betrayed the Outlander Force, the Inquisition, and the man who would have given his life for him. He can see it from here, the white walls still black where the flames had eaten away at them, roped off and never touched again. Damien left something there and he wants to get it back. The bright colors and banners that flutter in the breeze above the evergreens is a mocking contrast to the feelings he carries with him into this city.
At least there are trees here. Birds fly overhead and catch insects that dart in the cool air. Being this far north is a luxury in itself when he's been in the desert for so long. A few miles from here, they grow all manner of fruits and grains out on the plains where the soil is still fertile and managed to be either saved from the brunt of the radiation and pollution or has been purified and cleansed. On the way here, they had all seen something none of them had ever seen before. Deer. Whitetail deer out in the fields on the edge of a clump of trees. Damien had believed they were extinct, but there they were. This makes him want to finish W.A.N.D. with a newfound urgency. They have to preserve this and whatever wildlife might be still alive in the forests around here. Even Seth was surprised.
Damien looks down at Seth. "You're being really quiet."
Seth ignores him.
"It's so weird being back here after so long, huh?" Damien asks as he walks beside his partner.
"Do you even remember their names?"
"What? Whose names?"
Seth doesn't look up from the pavement that he watches go by. "The twelve agents you sacrificed that day."
No. He doesn't. He's tried for these nearly three years to forget them all. "I try not to think about them."
"One of them was my nephew."
"What do you want me to say, Seth?"
"Nothing. I want you to give a damn about someone other than yourself for once in your life. I hoped that coming back here would give me closure, but all it's done is make me hate you even more. We're opening old wounds that should have healed by now."
"They would heal if you'd stop ripping the stitches out. But no. You have to constantly remind me of that day. Don't you think I lie awake at night from the flashbacks and nightmares? Something screwed up my mind that day and I haven't been able to recover from it."
"Good. Maybe you'll finally develop a conscience."
When they reach the building, Damien holds the door open for Seth.
Seth glares at him and crosses his arms. "I don't need your help, Montgomery. I can open doors by myself. I'm not you. I don't rely on those around me to give me everything I need."
Damien lets the door close. Fine. He just tried to be helpful. He looks around at the devastation and the haunting stillness of the crumbling walls and long hallways that stretch on for what seems like eternities. Nothing has been cleaned up. Nothing has changed. He takes a deep breath to steady himself as Seth joins his side.
"Well, let's get to it. Lead on."
Damien begins to feel lightheaded as the memories flood into his mind with every room they pass, every charred skeleton, and every blood-splattered window. He thought he could do this and stay strong, but his resolve is wavering. Down at the end of one of the long hallways, Damien pushes open the broken doors and steps inside.
The room is dark, the only light filtering in through the grime encrusted windows or where the bullet holes let in tiny beams of sunlight. Dust hovers in the air, making the atmosphere thick and viscous. This is the room.
Seth goes past Damien and looks around. This is exactly where they were when Damien heard the alarm go off and made the decision that would forever change his life and Seth's . . . as well as ending twelve others. He can almost hear it sounding again, echoing against these walls and empty corridors. The computer is on the far wall, still on the desk where Damien had found the documents. The others, smashed and in pieces littering the floor were the Inquisition ones that he fought so hard to destroy, all to please President Evans. Damien had heard the alarm, then the screaming in the hallway as it filled with smoke and flames. The twelve agents were trapped with no way out and the doors to this room were locked from this side. All it would have taken to save them was Damien unlocking the door. He didn't. Instead, he shot Seth and destroyed the computers then crawled out the window claiming to be a hero as the agents who trusted him with their lives burned to death only feet away. They called out Damien's name and begged him to save them. The flames weren't the worst part, though. He remembers that now. The dark matter. Blice had heard the commotion and found Damien destroying Inquisition computers. He attacked him and they fought, but Damien slipped away as the doors finally opened for the remaining agents who hadn't yet died from the flames and smoke, only to be met with Blice's dark matter. Their voices have never left his memory.
Seth is exactly where Damien had shot him and he has to know if Seth knows where they are. "Remember this room?"
"I remember bleeding to death on the floor with you standing over me laughing." Seth says.
"Sorry about that."
"Oh, look." Seth points below his wheelchair. "One of your shell casings. Wonder if that's the one that paralyzed me."
"It is. I only shot once. I haven't shot a gun since." Damien bends over and picks it up. The floor is still stained with Seth's blood.
"Was it worth it, hero?"
Damien looks away from Seth and holds the shell casing to his lips. "No. It was never worth it."
"I could have told you that before you went psycho. You didn't bother to ask. But that's just like you, partner. Shoot first, think rationally later."
"What is it like?" Damien asks. "Does it still hurt?"
"Why do you care?"
"Fine. You don't have to tell me. I was just trying to help you."
Seth shakes his head. "I don't need help, Damien . . . especially not from you. But if you must know, my new wife told me a few nights ago in bed that I love her better than you ever did. Want to ask about that?"
"No, Seth. No I don't."
"And yes, it all still works."
Damien goes over to the computer and tries to get it to start. "Shut up, Thompson. I get it, okay?"
"Tell me . . . have any advice on being a father?"
Damien slips the casing in his pocket and takes a deep breath. "You don't mean-"
"Maria is pregnant with my child."
"Stop talking. I'm not dealing with this right now."
Damien clenches his teeth until they are about to crack and his hands shake as he gets the computer working again. He can barely type and he feels Seth's eyes bearing down on him. Perhaps he's fantasizing about shooting Damien and getting revenge. Let him. That would be a welcome reprieve from this everlasting torment.
24
Isidore follows behind Blice and watches the world pass by in a dull shade of rusty red. If he wears his sunglasses, Blice won't see the apprehension when his eyes betray him. Of what little Isidore remembers of this place, it's enough to tell him he shouldn't go any farther. He needs to turn and run as fast as he can before Blice finds what is in those computers under the city.
When they reach the outskirts of the city, right up against the lead walls, Blice opens the hatch in the ground and pushes Isidore forward. Steep wooden steps creak under their feet as they go deeper and the strings of lights flicker in the stagnant air against the roughly hewn walls of stone and clay. Isidore brushes the thick cobwebs out of the way and the stairs eventually end where vast mine shafts spread out in all directions with old mine carts on the dilapidated tracks where they were abandoned years ago. Water drips down the grey stone, sending airy echoes deep into the mines.
"Over here, Niko." Blice calls to him and pushes open a metal door in the stone wall. He flips on the lights.
Isidore
stands in the doorway and feels sick as Blice passes his hand over the console and a blue hologram flickers to life. Once he places his insignia inside, the computer turns on and welcomes him.
"What's wrong?"
Isidore closes the metal door and leans against the wall as Blice works. "Nothing. I don't like it down here." Then he sees them . . . shattered and broken, in pieces and torn apart.
"Niko?"
Isidore runs his fingers over the damaged consoles and equipment. They call out to him, begging him to forget what is recorded in here. If he could, he would. How does he know what they will find? Kazimir. It had to be something that Isidore knows from a time before being with Blice. Somehow, Isidore remembers this place and he wasn't here with Blice.
"Isidore, what's wrong?" Blice asks.
"I was here before."
"Yes. Good. You're starting to remember. Now, tell me the pass codes for this terminal that's still working."
No. He can't. He knows, he remembers it, but he can't say it. Blice can't use the information contained in that computer. And if he can use it, it will be certain death for Isidore. "I don't know it."
"Sure you do. I know you're hiding it from me. Why? Just tell me."
Isidore crosses his arms and stares at the floor. Blice will have to beat this answer out of him. There's no way in hell Isidore is telling him. Nope. Not this one.
"I order you to tell me the pass code."
"I don't take orders from anyone except Clara." Isidore says.
"Excuse me? You don't get to choose your owner."
"You're the last one I'd pick."
Blice jumps up and throws his chair at Isidore where it crashes against the wall. His face is red with rage. "What did you say?"
"I hate you."
Blice doesn't say anything for a long few minutes as the sound of the dripping water fills the caverns around them, matched only by Isidore's pounding heart. Without warning, Blice picks up a splintered shard of wood from the chair and slashes Isidore's left cheek with it. He removes his belt and forces Isidore against the wall then binds his hands behind his back and cinches it down tight. "I'll give you something to hate." He pushes Isidore down to the floor and goes back to the computer. "Tell me the password or I kill Clara."
He closes his eyes. "2009164."
"Was it that hard? Damn." Blice types it in and then laughs. "Oh my God."
Isidore sits in the corner as the leather bites into his wrists and the tears sting in the open cut on his cheek. He leans back against the wall and watches the spiders crawling aimlessly on the rafters. Well, he's dead now. As soon as Blice installs those programs, Isidore will become nothing more than a breathing object with no will of his own. He listens to the creaking of the wooden stairs as someone comes down into the mines with them.
Clara steps into the room and runs to Isidore. "Blice! What did you do?"
"Leave him. He's being taught a lesson."
"I can't let him suffer like this."
"Come have a look at what he was hiding from me." Blice says.
Clara stands next to Blice and studies the screen. "What is this?"
"Forbidden T.I.M.E. programs. Ever heard of Kazimir Dark?"
"Is that Inquisitor Dark? Kazimir was that rogue T.I.M.E. who started that rebellion."
Blice grins darkly. "I'm going to install the first one and see what happens."
"Don't do this. Even for you, this one is cruel." Clara says.
"You don't have a say in the matter. He's my computer." Blice takes out his flash drive then leans over Isidore. "This program takes away your free will and shuts down any ability you have to make your own decisions. You will follow orders mindlessly. How does that sound?"
Isidore closes his eyes in silent resentment as he feels the cold metal enter his USB port and his mind shuts down.
Clara tires to reach out for Isidore, but Blice pushes her away.
"If you stand in the way, I will make sure that Isidore is never back to the way he was. You two won't be able to be together and he will live out his life as a voiceless slave who exists to serve me."
Clara glances back at Isidore then to Blice. "Fine. Do as you will. However, the Android Laws apply here, too. Don't forget that as his owner, you are responsible for any damage you do."
"I'm not going to hurt him too badly. He heals quickly."
"His body heals. What about his mind?" Clara asks. "Emotional trauma counts too. You're doing it again, Blice. You let your anger get the best of you."
"Go back to the surface and meet up with the others. As soon as I get all of this transferred over, we will be up there and we can leave."
* * *
Byron is already back at the transport and starting on his fourth bottle of Alezi Blue for this trip when the others join him. He notices Isidore is following behind Blice with his head down. "Hey man, you feeling okay?"
Isidore closes the door and stares out the window.
"Blice, what did you do to him?" Byron asks.
Clara slams the door and pulls the bobby pins from her hair. "He initiated a long-lost T.I.M.E. control program that makes Isidore unable to express any emotions or speak. Blice is on a power trip and anyone who stands in his way gets beaten down."
Blice glares at them from the driver seat. "You want Isidore back to normal? Fine. Babochka."
Isidore hides his face in his hands as he starts to cry.
"There. That better?" Blice asks as he starts the transport. "Isidore, stop crying."
"I swear to God if you hurt him-"
"Shut up, Damien. Didn't you see his face? Yes, I hurt him. Want to fight about it?"
Isidore looks up and wipes his face on his sleeves. "Don't fight over me. I'm fine. Blice did what he needed to do."
Clara rubs Isidore's shoulders. "Just stay quiet and relax, baby."
"Baby?" Damien asks. "Are you two-"
Blice growls from the front. "Yes. Imagine my surprise when I found them together at her house. Apparently an android computer fucks her better than I can."
"Blice! There's no need for that." Clara screams at him.
Byron is again confused. "Whoa. You two were together too?"
"Forget about it." Clara says.
Damien grins. "I always thought you played on the other team, Blice."
"I'm going to kill you, Damien."
25
Blice wants to get back to Rubble City and have this entire trip far behind them. With the information he was able to find on that computer, there should be something to save Isidore. Kazimir will be wanting this data as soon as possible so they can work on upgrading Isidore. When he spoke to him last, Kazimir sounded certain that there would be something to help the situation. However, it seems that this trip wasn't worth it. Did they truly accomplish anything? Only time will tell.
He looks in the rearview mirror as he drives. Seth and Damien are just as close as ever, but now with an added tension as they send evil glares between each other. They seem pissed off, but satisfied. They must have found what they were looking for. Blice makes a mental note to pester the hell out of Damien later about it. Then there's Isidore who hasn't moved in the past ten hours. He stays there, leaning against the door with his arms on the window as he watches the desert pass by. Clara has fallen asleep up against Isidore's back. Byron passed out a couple hours ago when he finished another bottle of tequila.
These people are freaks. Though Blice knows he's not any better. He's gone through seven packs of cigarettes since yesterday morning. He hasn't smoked since Isidore made him stop about four years ago. Now here he is, worse than he was before. Maybe Blice is losing his mind. Yes, that must be it. He'll add quitting smoking to the long never-ending list of his failures and things he has to make up to Isidore. Empty vows, broken promises, and heartless betrayal are all aspects of Blice's life that he regrets. No matter how much he struggles to overcome his anger and never hurt Isidore again, he falls back to old habits and wants to kill himself afterwards.
Seth squints in the bright sunlight. "Those are President Evans's private guards. They're Secret Service agents."
Someone calls over a speaker phone. "Blice Antonio Evans McSage, step out of the vehicle."
"Everyone just stay here. Let me handle this." Blice gives Isidore a worried look before opening the door and stepping out to face the agents. He holds up his hands. "So what is this? Am I under arrest or what?"
Every agent bows and one of them steps forward. "Mr. President."
What did he just say? Someone gasps behind him.
"What name would you like to be called by, sir?"
Blice is still in shock and his mind is racing, attempting to grab onto anything that will offer an explanation. "Um . . . McSage. What is going on?"
"Your father is dead. He transferred all power and authority of the presidency to you. Come with us, Mr. President. There is much to be done."
Blice waves for Isidore. "Niko, come here, please." Once Isidore is standing next to him, Blice takes his arm in his then turns back to the agent. "I guess we're going to Paradise?"
"Naturally. The others must stay here."
There's no way he's leaving Isidore behind. "My computer comes with me."
"As you wish, Mr. President."
"What happened to my father?"
The agent taps on his watch and pulls up a document as he speaks. "He was assassinated last night. Our leads point to Common Ground."
* * *
Blice and Isidore exit the transport and a group of guards surround them as they go inside the Presidential Palace. Even now, some reporters are taking photographs and trying to ask questions. The Secret Service agents push them out of the way. They follow the agent in front to the room Blice knows from dealing with his father and where countless arguments took place between them. The Oval Office. It always seemed odd that they modeled it exactly after the one from the United States that Blice had seen in books. The architects and designers wanted to keep a part of that tradition alive. The only major change is the Inquisition insignia and open book of the Outlander insignia replace the Great Seal of the United States.
Paradise of Lead Trilogy Page 45