"Last question." Kazimir says. "It might seem trivial, but you need to answer truthfully. Who is Isidore Nikolai Williams? Who are you? You are so much more than an android or a computer. Until you find yourself and your identity, you will always struggle."
"The only identity I need is the one Blice gives me. I will be whoever he needs me to be."
"That's not good enough. You will never be good enough."
Isidore looks up with a small gasp.
"Unless you find yourself, you will never be good enough. You can't be defined by others." Kazimir stands and goes to the wall where he examines the glowing purple of the dark matter. "Blice is the one who got rid of Katarina. He killed your daughter. She's gone. Blice suffocated her then threw her body out into the wasteland."
Without a word, Isidore goes to the door and down the hall. It's as if his mind is in a fog. Nothing makes sense anymore. He opens the door to the bedroom and locks eyes with Blice. "Owner . . ."
Blice looks up from his video game and puts down the controller. "Niko?"
Isidore goes to Blice and kneels at his feet then slips into the altered consciousness as his combat program activates. "Bow to me and beg for forgiveness."
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"You have ten seconds to explain yourself then I will destroy you like the demon you are."
Blice crawls away from Isidore then falls off the edge of the bed. "Stop. I didn't do anything."
"You killed my daughter. Now you die."
"Enough, Created One." Kazimir says from the doorway.
Isidore's electricity sparks to life in one hand as flames dance in the palm of his other hand. "Go away, Kazimir. This fight is between me and my owner."
Blice ducks below the edge of the bed to avoid a ball of flames. "Please don't kill me. What did I do?"
"Stand down, Isidore." Kazimir says again.
Isidore pushes Blice down on the floor and holds him there under his foot. "No. Today I take revenge for those who cannot avenge themselves. Deep down, I knew you were evil. Enjoy your last breath, Blice McSage."
19
Isidore draws his revolver and aims at Blice, but is knocked off of his feet when something heavy slams into his head. He falls onto the bed. "Ouch. What did you just hit me with?"
"Your Bible." Kazimir says.
"Why?"
"You're acting like a deranged robot. I thought that slapping you with what you regard as holy would snap you out of it. Looks like I was right. Maybe there's something to this religion stuff. Let me hit you again and see."
Isidore's combat program stops. He sits on the bed as his magic fades. He grabs his Bible away from Kazimir. "Don't touch this. It's very special."
Blice pulls himself up and he backs away from Isidore. "What the hell was that about? I had nothing to do with Katarina's disappearance."
"It's true." Kazimir says to Isidore. "I told you that so you would do something like this. You answered my questions perfectly."
"Your questions?"
"When it came down to it, you were able to decide what meant more to you: Blice or your daughter. Then you defended your religion. And I'd say that you avenging your daughter is a very manly thing, Isidore. You might not be completely lost after all."
"Is my daughter alive or not?" Isidore asks. "How dare you play around with something like that? Tell me!"
"We don't know." Kazimir says.
Blice goes up and punches Kazimir in the chest. "Really? You told him that I killed Katarina?"
"I had to get a reaction out of him. I figured that would work."
"He would have killed me." Blice shouts.
"No he wouldn't. He can't kill you, Blice. You know that."
Isidore places his gun back in the holster. "I'm so glad that you think it's funny to play with my emotions like this. I hate you both."
"Hey!" Blice shouts. "What did I do?"
"Doesn't matter. How do we find my daughter?" Isidore asks.
"Honestly, I have no idea." Blice says. "Whoever took her didn't leave a trace. Without any evidence left behind and with Clara still out of it, we can't move forward. There's nothing we can do. I have a press conference in a couple of hours and I need to go get drunk before then. Who's with me?"
* * *
Xavier sits behind his desk and watches his brother from across the large room. He truly hates this place. Why did their father have them bring the baby back down into the Unclaimed Lands? He guesses it's so they'd be almost untraceable. It's just so depressing to be locked in this underground bunker with no sunlight or fresh air. Sure, there is an oxygen circulation system like they have on the space stations, but it's just not the same as stepping out into the warm air and the sunshine with the birds and the clouds. The land above this bunker is barren and charred from so much radiation and the explosions that ate away at what used to grow here. This used to be its own country back before the war so it wasn't protected from the war like the Unified State up to the north was.
It's just as well. No use trying to conduct business in the country where Blice and Android 42 could find them. It's so secluded and forbidding out here that not even planes fly overhead. There's no reason. The entire southern hemisphere is desolate. Their outpost is the farthest south and past the security fences by the dry riverbed, there is no more civilization of any kind. Maybe down in Africa or Australia there could be life, but the satellite images have been so clouded by lingering clouds of dust and radiation that nothing has come back. So it has all been forgotten and deemed unlivable. South America is the Lost Continent. No one knows what is going on down there, but at least there have been strange audio recordings that have managed to interfere with radio signals. Other than that, no sign of life.
When the baby laughs, Xavier is brought back into reality from his thoughts. He goes over to Zach who is busy arranging the cables and wires for the experiments. "Why is she laughing?"
"Don't know. Maybe she's excited about what I'll be doing to her."
"What are you going to do, exactly?" Xavier asks.
"Oh, I haven't decided yet. I'll probably use some electricity and acid."
"God. Don't kill her. We have to wait until Daddy gets back. Where are the androids?"
"In their cells." Zach says. "Can you believe that they've aged so much in four months?"
"That's the work of the Inquisition. Four months from creation to adulthood. These are the new kind, not like 42 who aged the same as a human child. These new ones aren't the brightest individuals, but they'll fulfill their purpose."
Zach pulls down his beanie again. "Created to die. Must be a sad existence."
"It's only sad if they can feel emotions, which they can't. That's why I was wondering why 43 was laughing."
"Maybe her father trained her to mimic emotions."
"Don't forget that she's half human." Xavier says. "So I guess she can feel something."
Zach frowns as Katarina starts crying. "Take her out of here while I finish getting this ready." He stuffs a handful of chocolate candies in his mouth and turns back to the machines.
"You owe me." Xavier says to his little brother before scooping up the baby and carrying her into the lounge. What is he going to do with a baby? He places her on the sofa while he makes some coffee. Every so often, she stops crying and stares at him with her big blue eyes. He smiles at her when she holds up her tiny fist in the air. She looks hungry.
Xavier looks through the cabinets until he finds the formula and a bottle. It's good that he paid attention when his father told them how to do this. After he gets it ready, he sits down with his coffee and takes Katarina in his arms. "Hi there. Well, you sure are cute." She reaches out for the bottle so he begins to feed her. She soon falls asleep and Xavier wipes the formula from her mouth. She's so little and delicate.
Zach curses from the other room as something crashes. Something inside of Xavier hopes that he doesn't get whatever he's working on to function properly. That same something is st
arting to erode the ideas of experiments and pain he had been formulating for the baby he now is cuddling to his chest. Her lips move as she sleeps. Is she smiling back at him?
The front door to the bunker opens and someone steps inside then removes their protective gear. "How is it going?"
Xavier has the immediate need to hide Katarina, but he quickly pushes past it and lays her down on her blanket on the sofa as he goes to greet his father. "Welcome back, Damien."
"Daddy!" Zach runs in from the other room, still munching on candies. "I'm almost ready to start."
Damien holds up his hand to silence them before changing back into Vladimir. "Give me a minute to have a drink then we'll get to work." He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small wooden box that he tosses to Zach. "Happy birthday, son."
"Thank you!" Zach opens the lid and grabs Yuri as he flies out. "Let's go see how much it struggles."
"Give it some time to learn to trust you first. Then it will react more when you betray it." Vladimir says.
Xavier shakes his head as Zach skips off into the other room. He steps back into the lounge where his father is already making a drink. "I need to talk to you."
Vladimir drops some ice cubes from the freezer in a tall glass. "What is it?"
Xavier glances back at Katarina who is still asleep on the sofa. "I think we should take the baby back to Paradise."
"Why on Earth would we do that?" He asks as he fills the glass with whiskey.
"I . . . I don't want to hurt her. She's just a baby."
"This is why you're my least favorite son. And Byron is your brother. You rank below him. How does that make you feel, boy?"
"Dad-"
"You're weak, Xavier." Vladimir says. "Be more like Zach. He's two years younger than you, but he is twice the man you are. Have you even branded the androids like I told you to?"
"No. It hurts them."
"They can't feel pain like we can. The sooner you believe that, the better off you'll be. Since when do you not want to see things in pain? You used to love hurting things. You're an android hunter so you'd better get used to it."
Xavier picks up Katarina. "I'm an android hunter, not an android torturer."
* * *
Byron leans back in his chair and puts his feet on the table as he turns on the television to watch the press conference. This should be good. Blice is drunk off his ass and hasn't slept in three days. He's already angry. Byron looks up at Isidore. "Hey man, Blice doesn't want you to watch this for some reason."
"Oh, okay. I'll be in the Oval Office with Clara. Don't worry. I won't watch it. I'll be looking for a way to find Katarina." He leaves the room as Kazimir steps inside with some popcorn and sodas.
Byron pulls out a chair for him. "Thanks for the snacks. So, want to know something hilarious?"
Kazimir sits next to him and opens a can of soda. "What's up?"
He points to Blice's bed where his pants are. "Blice left without his pants."
"Oh dear." He starts laughing. "I don't think he really cares. Surely Monroe will make him put some on. Right?"
"Who knows? Let's watch."
Blice steps outside and waves to everyone. His black hair is a mess and his eyes are bloodshot. Agent Monroe shakes his head and hides his face from everyone.
Kazimir sighs. "Is Blice wearing a suit jacket and his boxers?"
"Yep."
"Nice. Is he high on something?"
"Probably." Byron says as he stuffs a handful of popcorn in his mouth.
Blice raises his arms to silence the laughter and the shouting of the crowd. He grabs Monroe and kisses him.
Byron chokes on his soda and shakes Kazimir's arm. "Did you see that? Did he really just kiss him?"
"Oh God. I smell an impeachment coming. Other than that, I want some of whatever pills he's on right now."
Blice turns to the crowd. "Citizens of the Unified State, forgive my lack of flowery language and courtesy. I'm in no mood to be suave. And at this point, I truly don't give a damn about my appearance." Blice pulls his suit jacket off and tosses it on the ground. He rolls up his sleeves as he continues. "If you don't like it, you can leave. I'll wave goodbye as you walk out into the wasteland. Deal with it. Now, in two weeks, I will be activating W.A.N.D. Due to global political tensions, I feel that this is the best course of action. As such, the new Paradise will be finished and ready for this plan. Because of the transportation and safety issues, we will only be able to relocate sixty percent of the country's population. If you receive a gold key card in the next few days, you will report to the front gates of Paradise in thirteen days. From there, you will be briefed on everything. As for those of you who do not receive a key card, remain in your homes and try to survive. I'm not going to sugarcoat this. Once W.A.N.D. is activated, the two remaining walled cities of our beloved country will self-destruct to prevent an invasion. While this may sound counterproductive, I can assure you that it is a better outcome than allowing Common Ground to find our classified technology."
"Mr. President!" A news reporter tries to ask a question.
Blice shakes his head and picks up a flask of whiskey that fell out of his discarded jacket pocket and takes a drink. "No questions yet, please."
"Are you drinking?" Someone asks.
"What part of no questions do you not understand? Now shut up and let me speak. Like I already said, if you don't like it, then leave." Blice lights a cigarette and sits down on the edge of the stage. "Tonight I will be combing through the database and finding the most experienced and valuable people whose skills will be useful in the new Paradise. Authors, poets, musicians, artists, actors, dancers, and the creative minded will be left out. So don't even expect to get a key card. We need medics and scientists over you."
The crowds shout their disdain.
Blice only drinks more. "Oh, shut up. Do you want humanity to be pretty or do you want it to survive? How about for the next two weeks, we replace your physicians with ballerinas? Then tell me how your heart transplant goes. That's what I thought."
An angry man steps forward. "You can't rule this country like a tyrant."
"Oh? Who says? I wasn't elected. You people have no say in your leader. Keep complaining and I'll just activate W.A.N.D. right now and be done with it. Be grateful I'm saving some of you heartless assholes."
"You're going to kill forty percent of the country?"
"No. I'm saving sixty percent." Blice says with a grin.
"Why does your homicidal robot get to live when actual humans will die?"
Blice leans forward and shakes his flask at them. "First off, Isidore Williams didn't commit any of those murders. I don't care what he was convicted of. I know he's innocent and if you say otherwise, I will throw this at you after I finish drinking this. Second, you should feel terrible about what you just said. Isidore Williams will be giving his life to save humanity. He will be leaving his wife and baby without a father to ensure that we can live."
The people stop bickering and grow quiet as they whisper about their newfound knowledge.
Blice holds up his flask. "Well, get celebrating. You'll get his blood after all. You all wanted him to die so now he is. What's wrong? Not as happy about that as you were after the trial? Did your bloodlust wear off?"
"You can't do this! Authors and artists are humans too. We all have the right to live."
"Really? Who are you to define what human is? You've already proven that whoever is in charge of the courts gets to define that. Well now it's my judgment. I will decide who is human. And just so you know, every single person who was on that jury who sentenced my friend to death will not be getting a key card. If you can do something as terrible as that, then you don't deserve to live." Blice stands and finishes off his whiskey. "Have a good apocalypse, bitches!"
* * *
"Okay, if we can pinpoint the coordinates, we will be able to head out in the morning and find her." Clara says as she types.
"Why didn't you tell me you ins
talled a tracking device on her?" Isidore asks.
"Because I knew you wouldn't want it. I didn't want to fight about it, but I knew something like this was bound to happen."
"Well, you did the right thing." Isidore and Clara look up from the computer as Blice stumbles into the office, smelling of whiskey and sweat. Isidore sighs. This can't be good. Where are his clothes? "Blice? Are you okay?"
Blice pushes past Isidore and takes Clara's hand before kneeling in front of her. "Clara, I need you to marry me."
What the hell? Isidore stares at him in disbelief as Blice slides open the top drawer of his desk and retrieves a small black box.
Blice opens it to reveal a large diamond ring. "Be my wife, Clara. Make everything right. You know why you have to say yes."
"How did you know I was pregnant?" Clara asks as she starts to cry.
Oh God. Isidore can't breathe. He reaches out to brace himself against the wall. She's pregnant again? But with Blice's baby? And now his world is caving in around him. How many times can one man live through something like this? As Clara and Blice embrace, Isidore is left in a state of shock and confusion. He has to say something, anything. "You can't marry him, Clara. You're my wife."
"Our marriage isn't legally binding, Isidore."
"Blice, don't do this to me."
"Just shut up and stop your whining, Niko." Blice says. "I order you to be okay with this."
"I can't just be okay with it. I love her."
"This has nothing to do with love." Blice kisses Clara's cheek and pushes her out of the room. "Go tell the others."
After the door closes, Isidore grits his teeth to stop himself from yelling. Maybe he should be yelling. Maybe he should be fighting Blice, but he knows that's not the answer. He covers his face with his hands and slides down to the floor.
Blice pours himself a cup of coffee then rummages in his desk until he finds a pair of Isidore's jeans and puts them on. "You're a little guy, aren't you? I'm surprised these fit me."
So he's drunk. That accounts for part of this. But then there's that ring. He's obviously been planning this for a while. Even his owner, the one person Isidore trusts the most, has betrayed him . . . again.
Paradise of Lead Trilogy Page 69