Paradise of Lead Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  Blice's hands tighten into fists. Property? While it's true that androids are property, even hearing Isidore being referred to in that way is infuriating. And as for the collar, Blice hasn't made Isidore wear that in years. Seeing anyone, even an android, wearing a slave collar sickens him. Now he will have to make Isidore wear it. He has kept it updated just in case. Now he's glad he did or they could both be in trouble.

  "Right in here." The medic opens the door.

  Blice steps inside the small room where he hopes to never see Isidore again. "Hey, buddy."

  Isidore crosses his arms and glares coldly at Blice.

  "How are you feeling?" Blice tries again.

  "Go to hell."

  Blice puts his hand on Isidore's shoulder. "Don't be like this."

  "Don't touch me." Isidore slaps Blice's hand away and slides off of the bed. "I'm leaving."

  "Where are you going?"

  He pulls on his jeans and a purple t-shirt. "I don't know. Far away from you, from Clara, and from everyone."

  Blice follows him back down the hallway and watches as Isidore pushes past everyone and slams the glass doors behind him.

  "Where is he going?" Clara asks.

  Blice sighs and pours another cup of coffee before going to the door. "I don't know. Give him some time alone."

  He goes outside and sips his coffee as he looks for his friend. Come on, Isidore. Don't do this. Blice had been hopeful that after everything, Isidore would have realized that things weren't as bad as the memories made it out to be. Even as he thinks it, he knows that's a lie. It was that bad and he feels like a monster. Then there are Isidore's marriage issues. If he lays a hand on Clara again, Blice will be forced to do something he doesn't want to do. That makes him feel terrible as well. Why is it an endless cycle of violence and intimidation between him and Isidore? As soon as Blice lets up on the reins, Isidore does something that has to be punished. It's a constant struggle between them. No one will ever win because Blice loves Isidore too much to kill him and Isidore's programming won't let him kill Blice. From across the small courtyard, Blice sees him.

  Isidore is sitting up against a brick wall under an apple tree in the hospital gardens. His legs are pulled up to his chest as he picks the leaves off of a dandelion. His silver hair is a tangled mess around his shoulders.

  Blice goes up to him and joins him in the grass that never dies, even in December. "We can go home if you want. You don't have to sit out here all day."

  "I still don't feel great."

  "Having your stomach pumped is never pleasant, believe me. I know." Blice gingerly reaches out to take Isidore's hand and he's relieved when he isn't pushed away. "We need to talk."

  "I don't want to talk, Blice. I want to forget it all."

  "This might be a terrible question, but I need to know. Why did you react so violently to those memories? I thought that you would come talk to me so we could discuss it."

  Isidore tosses the flower to the ground. "I had forgotten about so much. Did your father ever tell you about my childhood? Did anyone let you know what my life was like before I belonged to you?"

  "Not really. I know you were confined to the science laboratory. Did they abuse you? Is that part of it?"

  "When I was eight years old, the scientists in the laboratory thought it would be fun to monitor my brain functions when under physical and mental stress. They made me take my clothes off before strapping me down to a table and applying electrodes all over my body. You can guess where they put them to cause the most pain. Inquisitor Allen was the worst one. He told me that I needed to be trained as a sex slave then he would rape me. I was so young and afraid. I didn't know what to do."

  Now it all makes sense. "So that's why my father told me to treat you like that. I never wanted you for that purpose."

  Isidore combs through his tangled hair with his fingers. "Doesn't matter. Every single memory I have from my early childhood is of isolation and pain. At one point, an inquisitor thought I needed to be educated so she would teach me everything. She was so nice to me and the only person who let me wear my clothes the entire time. I would wait all week for her to come into my tiny room and she would have books for me to read. I'll never forget the day she gave me my Bible. Even when my memories were gone, I still had the vaguest recollection of that day. She was my only friend out of everyone who experimented on me and hurt me. One time, I was caught trying to look outside. I just wanted to see the world, the sunshine, the trees. They caught me and chained me to the bed by my ankles. Days went by and I was abandoned there without any food or water. I'm convinced that if I was a human child, I wouldn't have survived that ordeal. Just as I was too weak to do anything, that nice woman came back. She found me and gave me some clothes then held me in her arms as she fed me soup. She would sing to me and tell me stories to cheer me up."

  "Do you know her name?" Blice asks. "Maybe we could find her."

  "You can't find her. The scientists caught her after she had tampered with my hardware so they shot her right there in my room. I was hysterical. I tried everything a young boy could do to help her. Of course, it wasn't enough. I owe her so much for making me the man I am today. Without her, I would be just a robot, unable to feel or think for myself. She's the one who installed a free will program that couldn't be uninstalled. Somehow it merged with my brain and changed the way I viewed the world. I have been looking through some documents that were hidden in the database about me. The scientists were doing all that to me in order to break me and suppress my sense of identity so I could be just a computer and nothing else. I truly was created to be a slave." Isidore frowns and looks away from Blice. "Oh. Sorry. I guess you would have liked it better if I couldn't think for myself."

  "Never. I'm so glad that she did that for you."

  "After that, they wiped my memory and stored them where I couldn't get to them. Then an agonizing year went by until they gave me to you."

  "What was that like?" Blice asks as he rubs Isidore's shoulders. "Being taken from that hell of a place into the world you had always wanted to see, then told that you were a personal computer for someone?"

  Isidore leans back against Blice's chest and holds onto his arm. "I was terrified. First, they brought me a shirt that I later found out was yours. I held onto it and it comforted me when I was sad. I grew dependent on the scent of it, the scent of you. They wanted me to need you. And it worked. When they led me outside, the first thing I remember seeing, after my eyes adjusted to the sunlight, was a row of apple trees. Red and green apples with tiny white flowers. I had never seen anything like that. I breathed in the fresh air and it was exhilarating to look up into the sky that I had no idea was blue. I was twelve and so naive, so innocent. I didn't know about all the abuse I lived through because they took away my memories. All the way to the Presidential Palace, they were fussing over my hair, my clothes, all to make sure that I was presentable. They told me that I was to obey, never make eye contact, never speak unless I was directly asked a question. I was to follow any and all orders you had for me. They told me that you were the son of the president. I had read enough to know about the government at that point and I thought I was going to die. They let me remember enough of my conditioning and training to deter me from disobeying. At that point, being submissive was engrained in me, but under that, I could still think for myself. So they brought me into your room and the first thing I noticed was your smell. Once you looked at me and our eyes met, I knew my destiny was to be with you. I was where I needed to be."

  Blice kisses the top of Isidore's head. "We had a lot of good times, Niko."

  "I know. It was wonderful and the best time of my life until things changed."

  "I'm sorry about all of that. If I hadn't stolen those apples for you, maybe things would still be good."

  "I had forgotten about that." Isidore says. "I stood up for you and told your father I was the one who stole them. Things were never the same after that."

  "Now you know everything
I did to you." Blice says.

  "I understand why you did it. It hurts, but I understand. It wasn't your fault."

  "Well, that still doesn't make me feel any better about it."

  Isidore looks up in the sunlight and watches the tiny finches flittering around in the sky. "Where's Yuri?"

  "At home. He's been going crazy after you collapsed. Oh, you should know that you have been ordered by the hospital to be under my complete control until you are stable again." He turns Isidore around then fishes in his pocket and pulls out a leather object. "You have to wear this."

  Isidore's blue eyes are dark with confusion and pain. "A dog collar?"

  "Yeah. It's actually a slave collar which sounds worse, doesn't it? It's not my idea. If you're caught not wearing it, then they will notify the police and have you taken away from me."

  Isidore moves his hair out of the way. "Go ahead."

  Blice feels sick as he slips the black leather around Isidore's neck and buckles it tightly before securely locking it. The small screen displays all of Isidore's information from his name and where he lives, to what kind of programs he has installed. "There. I'm sorry."

  "It's okay." He reaches up to mess with it, but quickly pulls his hand away. "This is one of those awful ones, isn't it?"

  "It will hurt you if you try to take it off. Only I have the key."

  "I can feel it connecting to my nerves." Isidore says as he winces in pain.

  "It won't be so bad."

  He runs his fingertips over the lock. "I've worn this before."

  "Yes. It's yours from a few years ago. I've updated all of your information. How does it feel to have this on again?" Blice asks.

  "Awful."

  "Don't worry. I won't be using it to hurt you like I used to. It's just there because it's the law."

  "I thought you got rid of the Android Laws."

  Blice nervously rubs his neck. "I . . . um . . . I lied."

  "Blice!"

  "I wanted you to be happy." That's the complete truth. It was just one little lie . . .

  "Well, I'm not happy anymore. How can we be equals if I have to wear an electric shock collar?"

  "There's nothing I can do to change this." Blice says. "It's out of my hands."

  Isidore stands and stretches. "I think I'm going to go home and get some rest. Tell Clara where I am, okay?"

  "Sure. Oh, I'll sleep in my office so you two can have the bedroom. It's fine. I would just give you another room, but after the damage the Rubble Rebels did, all the usable rooms are filled."

  Isidore ignores him and walks off towards the Presidential Palace.

  3

  Yuri's tiny wings shimmer in the lamplight as he crawls across Isidore's chest. The light melodic tones fill the otherwise silent room. Every move he makes is gentle and as lifelike as if he was a real butterfly.

  Isidore smiles as he watches his robotic friend. He sips some water and tries to clear his mind from the past day. He feels awful. When he came in, he noticed the bullet hole from where he shot at Blice. If he wasn't programmed to be submissive to him, Blice would be dead. He knows Blice is fully aware of that as well. The empty vodka bottle is still sitting on the bedside table. What had gotten into him to make him do something so stupid? Isidore was caught up in his emotions from fighting with Clara, then the added trauma of reliving all the abuse from the memories pushed him over the edge. He notices his antidepressants sitting on the dresser. It's been four days since he took them. That probably didn't help the situation.

  Yuri flies over to the door as it opens and Clara steps inside. She gives a tiny smile. "I'm here."

  He sits up and quickly braids his hair. "Sorry for leaving you there like that."

  "What are you wearing?"

  "My identification collar. Blice is making me wear it because if I don't, the police will take me away. He lied about getting rid of the Android Laws. Surprise, surprise. Blice lied again."

  Clara kicks off her shoes and sits on the bed next to her husband. "He's only doing the best for you."

  Isidore looks away from her. "Just like when he was raping me."

  "Stop. I don't want to hear about it anymore."

  Isidore stands and clenches his fists as his anger rises in him again. "You're going to hear about it. That's my past and I still suffer with it. You're my wife. You're supposed to help me through things."

  "Why are you angry?" Clara asks. "This isn't like you, Isidore."

  "I'm getting fed up with being beaten down all the time. I want to be my own person. I want freedom, Clara. This is why I used to want to only be a computer. If I'm not able to think for myself, then I will never know how terrible my life is. Blice is only making this worse. I hate him so much. He thinks that I can just get over being treated like that for years. He actually thinks that he's my friend. If my programming would let me, I would kill him right now and be done with this."

  The door to the bedroom opens and Blice steps inside. "Sit down, Niko. I heard everything."

  Isidore closes his eyes and bows. "Forgive me, Blice."

  Blice takes off his coat and tosses it on his bed. "You can't say things like that where people can hear you. Even if you didn't mean it, saying that you want to kill me is an instant death sentence for you according to the laws."

  "Blice, I didn't-"

  "Okay. Anyway-"

  Isidore falls to his knees at Blice's feet. "Don't hurt me. I'm sorry. I need you."

  Blice gives him a sharp glare as a warning. "Shh. Just stop talking, Niko. God, stop it. You're driving me insane. Stand up, man. Just because you're wearing that collar doesn't mean you're my slave."

  Isidore stands again, but still avoids looking at Blice directly. It has been a while since Blice commanded him like that and Isidore doesn't quite know how to react, especially now that he is wearing a slave collar.

  "I have something to tell both of you. I want to get clean. Starting right now, I'm not taking my pills anymore. I promised you years ago that I would stop. Now I'm asking for your help to get me through." Blice lifts Isidore's face to look at him. "Can I trust you?"

  "I'll be there, always at your side. No matter what."

  "Thank you. As for you, you need to take your meds. You're going crazy again." Blice tosses the bag of pills to him.

  Clara massages Isidore's back as he takes his pills. "Why did you lie to Isidore about the Android Laws?"

  "So you two would get married. Honestly, that's why I did it. I wanted Isidore to have the one thing he wanted most." Blice loosens his tie and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt that is the same purple as his eyes. "It wouldn't have mattered if there weren't more successful androids being grown as we speak."

  "More? Is that what Clark is working on?" Clara asks.

  "Yep. Apparently they figured out what worked with Isidore and they're not wasting any time making more. Of course, they're not computers, but they could be turned into computers if their owners want. I don't like this. They're all going to be slaves."

  "Just like me." Isidore mumbles.

  Blice falls back on his bed. "Hell, Niko. Just shut up. New rule. You don't get to talk to anyone when you haven't been taking your pills. You're a whiny little bitch."

  "Don't talk to him like that." Clara says.

  "I can talk to him however I want to talk to him. I'm his owner, not you. Be glad that I let you even touch him."

  "Forgive me, Blice."

  Blice points at him. "I told you not to talk anymore. Are you crying?"

  Isidore holds onto Clara as the tears sting in his eyes. Why is Blice being so harsh like this? What can he do to make Blice happy with him again?

  "Look what you did." Clara says as she smoothes Isidore's hair and pats his back.

  "Niko, I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm still on edge from almost losing you again and I haven't slept in two days. Let me get some sleep and we will sort this all out later."

  Someone knocks on the door and calls out to Blice. "Mr. President, you hav
e an urgent call from Prime Minister Leblanc of Common Ground."

  Blice groans as he gets out of bed and rolls up his sleeves. "Define urgent."

  "Missiles have been launched, sir."

  Blice runs to the door and opens it. "Missiles? What the hell is going on? Give me details." He shuts the door and leaves.

  Isidore dries his eyes and looks up at Clara. "Do you know anything about that?"

  "No. Why would Common Ground launch missiles? Have relations gotten that bad between the countries? Connect to the internet and search the Inquisition database for any transmissions between Leblanc and the other leaders. Use my login information. We have to get to the bottom of this."

  Isidore collapses on the bed and loses it. He starts sobbing and he can't stop. The world is weighing down on him and everything people say to him is driving him deeper into his darkness. All he wants to do right now is stay here and cry.

  "Baby, it's okay. I'm here for you. You have had a very stressful and emotionally challenging couple of days. Don't worry about all of this. I will talk with Blice after he gets off the phone. You get some sleep." She leans down and kisses his cheek. "Breathe and don't think about anything. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, all right? Don't cry."

  Yuri glides over to Isidore and lands on his arm.

  Isidore looks up as he pulls himself together then pets Yuri. "I'll be okay. Let me put everything back together. You go check on Blice. Yuri will keep me company."

  4

  Blice picks up the phone and prepares for the worst. "This is President McSage."

  "You have some enormous balls."

  "Um . . . I'm flattered, but what the hell are you talking about?"

  Prime Minister Leblanc sounds both amused and concerned. "Firing those missiles at Great Victoria without warning."

  They're trying to blame Blice? What reasons would he have to fire any missiles at anyone? He's trying to promote peace. "I didn't fire any missiles."