by J D Ozee
“88, 23 listen to me. All you past memories are very deadly to the living. What I am saying now, will probably get me killed.”
Will looked towards the 6 cameras in the room. His bright mind, absently over looked them. 88 acknowledged Wills apparent fear and felt like he should calm him some how.
“ Don’t worry about those, I fed them a loop and audio has been shut off.”
Will, who now relaxed a bit, smiled. “Now why did you go and do that.”
88 walked around the table. “ I have noticed when you talked to me, you had be very quite. Careful to what you say and kept your eyes on things others would just see as common. The cameras and microphones limited your helpful knowledge, so in tern, I limit their knowledge as well.”
Will stared in disbelief. “How long have you been doing that for?”
88 frowned. “Now stop changing the subject. Who is Dr. Ackell?”
Will smiled, glad to be free from the electronic recorders and able to have the long awaited conversation with a model.
“Dr. Ackell, as rumor has it, is one of the real founders of Bond Found-land. Next to Rod. Andre Puff is….was just a person picked as a cover for Dr. Ackell, who wanted to stay hidden within the companies history.”
Will was beginning to feel more at ease, so he rests his arms on his knees.
“But sadly, that’s all I know of Dr. Ackell.” Will felt guilty, for he knew more about Ackell then he lead on.
88 turned away, his gray eyes stirred with emotions.
“How did you know that name, 88?”
88 looked down at the ground, doing an action that felt normal to him. Sticking his hands in his pockets, raising his head up to look at the Florissant light.
“I can’t recall.”
88 let his eyes fall on 23. A ghost of a child he once knew in his previous life, flashed in something he wasn’t supposed to have. Something that wasn’t his, but something that he wanted. Those names, sounded so familiar. The boy, that he’d known since his awakening, was back further in his memory. 88 wanted someone to talk to. Someone other then Will, other then 23. He wanted to talk to the ghost inside him. The ghost in the machine? Or the ghost of the machine? That was a question he wondered if he could get an answer for.
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“I don’t hear you anymore.”
“Do you hear me?”
“Are you ignoring me?”
“Please, I need you.”
“What can I do for you.”
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“When I am already dead.
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Chapter Five
A red haired woman ran down the rain soaked street. Her high heals echoed in the other wise silent blackness. She was breathing heavily. Her once curly hair was now ratted, full of leaves and mud. She hugged her body, trying to shield herself from the biting cold. Her run slowed to a walk and then to a standing position. She breathed in, trying to calm herself in the darkness of the night. She just stood there, thinking, crying maybe. The woman wasn’t sure if the rain was tears or the tears was her rain. She looked up, at a lone streetlight that shined down on her. Her gray eyes flickered with loneliness, fear and heartache. The girl leaned forward, resting on the streetlight, as if it was a friend giving a reassuring hug.
“He doesn’t love me.”
She whispered to no one in particular. She raised her hands up and started wiping away the rain drop tears that formed.
“He only see’s me as a child.”
She slid down the pole kneeling. Small sobs escaped her mouth, as rejection set in. She tried to rub away the tears but they never seemed to stop, no matter how hard she tried.
A voice broke though the darkness, holding a cruel tone.
“I see no child here.” A small laugh escaped his lips. “Do you see a child my friend?”
The girl’s gray eyes widen. She turned her head, looking at two men, their faces covered in darkness.
The other man laughed. “No child here, just a whore on the street corner.”
The girls eyes widened even more, tears falling faster then the rain.
She stood up, walking backwards.
“No, please.” She looked at the two men, then turned, ready to run for her life. But strong hands grabbed her, pulling her towards them. She struggled, they held her tighter. She screamed, they shoved her into the wall.
“Shut up!!” One of the men yelled, as he slapped her a crossed the face. She fell to the floor, dazed. The other man grabbed her by her hair, dragging her into the nearest alleyway. She held on to the man’s hand dragging her.
“Oh god, please no. NOO!!!.” She screamed, as her struggling body got pulled into the darkness. Her pleads faded away in the night, as did her life.
Error 05
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“What is it? In remembering what we want to forget.”
“What can you forget, when you don’t even remember.”
“Are our memories valid? Or is it all fabricated.”
“Fabricated memories are just as valid as real memories.”
“Why are we so different?”
“Different is only the same in the end.”
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Clare sighed a heart filled relief. She was looking down at a piece of paper. This wasn’t some ordinary paper. It was a notice paper, that she, Clare Donez, was not fired from her job.
“Oh THANK GOD.”
She had dodged a bullet, more like a cannon to her or better yet a nuke. The “lay-off” had left many people without a job and many more without a life. She took off her glasses, as she leaned back in her chair. Her pink fluffy robe kept her warm, giving her a false sense of security.
Clare was still working for the company and was promoted to the same area as Will, which made her very happy. But the lingering feeling of knowing she was close, made her wonder how far someone would stick their neck out for her.
She glanced over at the clock, noticing it was 8:00. In another hour, she would have to go to work and help shut down Model Numbers 06-29. She felt sad about it, but she put that thought out of her mind. The mode Number’s 06-15, looked un-human, almost falling apart with age. The 16-29, was a different matter, for they looked human and acted human. Clare knew though that it was all program, nothing more.
Clare had only been with the company for 8 years, two years less then Will. It was just that Clare was young, fell into a job opportunity that paid a lot of money and didn’t care what she did as long as it didn’t cost her life or her body.
She got up and walked over to the TV. She turned it on just for noise, because she didn’t like the quiet that echoed in her single apartment. Her mind wandered as she listened to the news being reported.
“Another body has been found today. This is the 6th victim this month. We fear that we have a serial killer on the lose. Its recommended that people travel in groups and to stay home at night. For those who work late hours…..”
Clare sighed, she wasn’t going to follow those rules. She already “knew” the said serial killer. Clare wasn’t a target, but none the less, she wouldn’t walk out in the open like that. There was the scum of the earth to think about. The ringing of the phone distracted her. She walked over to it and smiled when she saw the name on the phone. She picked it up with glee.
“Hello Will. What do you need this morning?”
She gave a chuckle as she blushed a little.
“You are such a pervert.”
She rested her elbow on the white tile of the counter.
“Yes, I can pick you up, it won’t be a problem at all. See you soon.”
Clare hung up the phone, humming a bit. She hadn’t felt like this since high school. She ran to her room to get ready.
Will hung up the phone. A small frown came a crossed his face.
“So Rod, what is it that you want to talk about.”
Rod’s red hair was turning white, but his skin was tight around his face.
“It’s the Module Number 00.”
Will’s eyes widened. “What about it.”
Rod became angered. “What about her.”
Will swallowed hard. “Sorry…what about her?”
Rod grabbed the coffee mug in front of him, slowing taking a drink.
“She’s reacting. If I had known sooner, I would have done it quicker.”
Will stood up fixing his tie. Rod was on his rant again, something Will chocked up to being old.
“What do you mean Rod?”
“Number 88, if I had only had people killed quicker, 88 would have come sooner.”
Will was becoming uneasy about the talk, he was afraid Rod might go on a killing spree. Then again he already was and had done so in the past.
“But Rod, if you had rushed, you might have not gotten the results you needed.”
Rod looked up at the younger man, looking up at him like Will was a saint.
“Will my boy, if I hadn’t had you around, I don’t know what I would do.”
Will begged to differ on that, but he wasn’t going to tell his boss that. More-so when he wasn’t stable mentally.
Rod glanced over at the clock, then back at the mumbling old man.
“Rod, what is 88 to 00.”
“The connection is never ending. Eternity” He stared blankly on.
Will noticed and felt concerned, the guy may be a nut but he did need to know someone cared for him. Will walked over to his closet, grabbing a blanket. He walked back over to Rod, handing it over to him.
“I want you to stay here for today. You look tired and a little sick. Also, no one will know you’re here, so you shouldn’t be bothered.”
Rod took the blanked slowly. He looked up at him and smiled.
“Thank you my boy. You always take care of me. Ever since Sarah died.” Rod rested his head on the couch he was sitting in, slowly drifting to sleep.
Will was confused. He didn’t know a Sarah. Will headed for the door, because he didn’t want Clare to know Rod was here. He looked behind him before locking the door. Dancing on the edge of a knife was something he never intended to do, but with his job, he’s on the tip.
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A young boy listened to the intercom above.
“ Programmers, report to the technical department. Model Numbers 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, Report to technical department.”
23 stared blankly at the metal box with wholes in it. He felt heavy. Having his creator telling him he is going to be shut down, scared him. 23 wasn’t meant to be scared, he wasn’t meant to feel that. The people behind him moved, complaining about the job before lunch. He turned around, looking lost. He wandered around, looking for a familiar face. One that he once called mamma. His fear became a frantic run, as he searched the crowd for the person that use to hold him close. Pleading sorry over and over again. He stopped when he heard her voice.
“Can I have coffee. Black please.”
23 ran to her in a full sprint, cling on to her squirted legs. The woman looked down, frowning at the nuisance.
“23, what are you doing?” She said boringly.
23 looked up at the woman, tears falling from his eyes.
“Don’t let them kill me mamma.”
The woman became pale.
“Why? Why are you crying?”
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“Would Model Numbers 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, and 20, please report to the technical department.”
Number 88 looked onward, as the loud crowed barked angrily at each other. Many people found out about the untimely death of their fellow coworkers, many 88 helped dispatched himself. 88 started walking, as no one was giving him orders at the moment. He didn’t know where he was walking or why he was walking in the first place. All 88 knew, was he was being called. The metal clank on the floor was dulled my the panicked scientist. If fear if they don’t follow orders, they’d be the next victims.
88 wanted to laugh, laugh at what, he wasn’t sure. At the hysteria, at the emotions forming inside him. 88 didn’t know, nor did he want to. The voice in his head, wouldn’t leave him alone. It was driving him crazy. Crazy was something he was not use to, something he’d rather leave dead. His mind wandered, as his feet traveled to a familiar, yet unknown destination.
He stopped, turned his head. On a capsule, red painted numbers seemed to scream. 88 spoke.
“00.”
He reached his hand out, touching the cold metal.
“You know me, but are you the one I talk to?”
He stayed silent, but no answer came.
“88, what are you doing out?” 88 turned, he felt like he got caught on something he shouldn’t have done.
“Will, I was bored.”
Will was dumbfounded. “Bored isn’t in your program.”
Will looked at the container 88 was touching. Will recalled the words Rod spoke to him earlier that morning.
“The connection is never ending. Eternity.”
“00, no start or end. The same with you 88.”
88 dropped his hand. “I hear a noise.”
Will was about to ask, but Clare walked up. She was putting her hair up into a pony tail.
“Come on Will, we still have a job to do.”
Will gave a heavy sigh. “Yeah, yeah.”
Will went to go and walk off, but a firm grip stopped him.
“23, where is he?”
88 looked on blankly in Wills eyes.
Will looked away, not knowing if it was the coldness of 88’s eyes or Will’s own guilt.
“He’s going to be shut down.”
88 let his arm go. “Protect.”
Will started to walk away, confused by that word. Protect, protect what? 23?
Clare grabbed Will’s hand.
“What’s the matter?”
The two walked together, softly swing hands.
“I’m thinking….”
Will grabbed Clare’s hand, pulling her into an empty janitor’s closet.
“Will?”
“You think you can do something for me?”
Clare nodded, as Will held her closer.
“It will be dangerous if we get caught.”
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“Would Model Numbers 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, and 29, please report to the technical department.”
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Clare waited at the door, waiting to work on number 23. She watched as Model’s started walking in, missed matched and un-orderly. Clare also noticed that the 20 Model’s looked different then 23. 23 was taken well care of as well as the youngest looking Model. She hadn’t paid attention at the differences between Models, because she just saw them as things. Now, this “thing” has something special. And this “Something” was caused by its interaction with Number 88.
Clare looked at the clock, getting nervous by the second. 23 hadn’t shown up yet and all the other’s Model’s had made their appearance.
“Clare? Where is your Model. How come it hasn’t shown up yet?”
Clare turned to the person talking to her. Not sure how to react.
“I don’t know, maybe the programming is slowing in that model.”
The person sighed. Clare couldn’t put a name on the young blonde woman next to her.
“Lucky, that means you don’t have anything to work on.”
Clare smiled softly. “But still, where is 23?”
Clare had a heavy feeling in her stomach, she had hoped Will had nothing to do with it.
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***********
Number 88 froze in spot while walking. He was getting an order from someone in the communication center. The voice that talked to him was human, but so cold. It was giving him an order for assassination. Many assassination has happened this month and this would be like no other.
“The Target.” 88 spoke with his metallic voice.
The voice responded. “Terri Anderson.”
88 started moving again. Ready for the next mission. 88 recalled the name Terri Anderson and knew she was the creator of Number 23.
88 started running now and jumped out an open window. He landed 5 stories below, landing on the ground, leaving an indent. Locking on to his target, to find his target. He used his ability to hack the camera’s around the area. He ran to a building and jumped up, landing on top of a large Sky Scraper. He looked down, noticing that one of his camera’s had Terri Anderson targeted. 88 was about to go after her but stopped.
88 froze in place, not knowing why. Just seeing the person she was with, froze him. Terri Anderson was with 23. 88 jumped to the next building, closer to the two. On his assassination hits he never hesitated, he did what he was programmed to do. This was different, Terri was with 23. Holding him close.
88 jumped down and landed down front of the two. Terri’s eyes widen if fear. She held herself tighter around 23.
“Please, you can kill me, but let David go.”
23 looked over at his mama. Then back at 88. A small smile came on his face.
“Mama said David.” He closed his eyes at 88, tear’s falling.
“David don’t want Mama to die.”
88 looked at the two, his face cold and blank. He raised his arm up. A blade shot out, ready to be swung down. For the second time that day in that same hour, he froze.
88 retracted the blade, reporting back to head quarters.