by Drew Avera
"That was really mean," Laurel said. He lips were curled in a smile, but her tone suggested she really meant it.
"He deserved it," Nila said, coming to my defense. I appreciated the backup.
Laurel laughed, "I know, but it was really mean. I thought he was going to scream when you grabbed him. Maybe he did—if you want to call that a scream.”
I snickered. "I could have gotten him to do so, but I didn't want to attract any unnecessary attention." Security wasn't a problem, but I didn't want to bother with any unnecessary hassles for a rat like him.
My joke was met with an appropriate amount of chuckling, but it soon died down when we came to Pontiff White's room. Outside of it stood two retired policemen. Both wore gauntlets, but one was gold in color denoting a previously high ranking member of The Agency. I recognized the policeman with the gold gauntlet immediately. It was the man who was as much a part of my past as he was Pontiff White's. He was a policeman and the man's name was Gentry. He was the one who killed my father.
Chapter 5
The tall, slender man known as Gentry made eye contact with me as we approached. I could feel his cold stare boring deep into my eyes as if he were measuring me up in some sort of way. After spending thirty years as a policeman, I couldn't imagine him reacting otherwise. "Hello, Serus. I see you made it back after all," he said. His voice was kinder than I remembered it, but memories weren't something I trusted after receiving the programming from The Agency.
I stood in front of him; half hating him for the role he played in killing my father, but half pitying him for the life I knew was stripped away from him. His life could have been my own future, had I not rebelled against The Agency. Just thinking about that made me nervous. It was possible that I would become a target, now that I was back. Even with The Syndicate gone, I imagined things still ran as usual for The Agency. I was only one man, and I hadn’t left on good terms.
"Yes, we returned to try and save the artificial atmosphere. My sister Kara thinks she has found the answer to prolonging our lives," I said. Seeing the gold gauntlet reminded me of the authority he once held in The Agency, and I felt as if I had to be respectful of him, regardless of the past.
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "That is excellent news. I know Pontiff White will be very pleased to hear it."
Gentry did not come across as the hardened man I had expected. Most retirees from The Agency were stoic and lifeless, almost robotic entities. "Speaking of which, how is he?" I asked. There was a lot going on in the short period of time we were back and I was feeling a little scatterbrained because of it.
He half-turned to look through the window slits into the dark room where Pontiff White was resting. "The old geezer has been arguing with the doctors, saying he was fine. Of course that was followed with remarks about how he thought he was about to die. All in all, I think he is doing well for a man who suffered a heart attack. The doctor said he placed two stents in his heart and expects a full recovery," Gentry answered. There was a bit of mockery to his words and it was a bit out of character for someone with our background. Even after beating the programming I had a hard time having a sense of humor about some things. It was easier when I wasn't stressed out and when I was in the company of people I loved.
Nila stepped forward with her hands on her hips and a sour expression on her face. "Mr. Gentry, you sure seem to have a lot of information regarding Pontiff White's care. That information should not be so freely shared.”
I could feel the rising tension in the hallway as both of them glared at each other. It was thick enough to cut with a knife just before both of them erupted in laughter. To say I was caught off guard was putting it mildly. Yet another thing that made home feel a bit more foreign to me.
"What's going on here?" I asked. I was confused and couldn't help but gawk at their exchange.
Both laughed at me as the second armed guard looked on, just as confused as I was; Kara as well. "I'm sorry, Serus. Gentry and I have a bit of a relationship so to speak," Nila said. This was a rather interesting turn of events I thought to myself. "It was, after all, Gentry who helped me get this job working for Pontiff White." Nila had a beaming smiled that showed her perfect white teeth behind those red lips.
My mind was about blown as several thoughts ran through my head. First, this man who killed my father was also responsible for the death of Pontiff White's wife and unborn child. Second, he now stood here as a guard for the same man whose life he had ruined. And third, he was in a relationship with—and got the job for—Pontiff White's secretary. I just couldn't fathom how all of these pieces fit together.
"Does he know this?" It was the only words I could come up with. I almost felt as if this was all some ruse or maybe I was in some alternate dimension.
My question was met with more laughter. "Of course he knows!" Nila said. "I guess a lot has changed since you left huh?"
I was taken aback. "Yeah, I would have to say so," I said.
Gentry patted me on the shoulder, and it startled me a bit, given our history. I felt tense, but I didn't react. "Come on in and see him. He's been looking forward to your return," Gentry said as he opened the door and led us in.
When I stepped into the dark room, all I could see was the outline of a hospital bed with lights blinking away on all of the different monitors. There was a small hum on the other side of the room and I could barely make out the form of Pontiff White, as he was covered from the neck down with a dull gray blanket. I walked quietly up to the bed and looked down on his pale face, which was dimly lit by the green glow of a machine. He looked serene, as if he was sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him.
I turned to look at Gentry and felt a hand grab my wrist. It startled the piss out of me so much that I almost struck at the person who had done it. When I looked down, I saw the smiling face of an old man. One I recognized as a friend, despite our troubled past. He winked at me and spoke in a hoarse voice, "Welcome home, Serus. I've been waiting for you."
Chapter 6
Pontiff White's grip was strong for a man who had just suffered a heart attack, and the corners of his eyes seemed to betray the straining of his voice. I could tell he genuinely was glad to see us. "How are you feeling?" I asked.
"Good, though I've been busy trying to keep this world from crumbling and I think it's taken its toll on me. That's what the doctor says, at least. But what does he know?" He was trying to joke about his condition, but the half-hearted chuckle following his words pained him noticeably.
"He could be right," I said.
Pontiff White waved a dismissive hand. "Now you're starting to sound like him," he said pointing at Gentry. It really was odd to see them so at ease with one another, considering the circumstances. When I left Mars, he was vengeful towards The Syndicate for what happened to his wife. Now he was different; gentler even in the presence of his wife's killer.
I felt a lump in my throat as I thought about what I was about to say next. It was the elephant in the room and needed to be said, though. Too much had changed, and I felt out of sync with the way things were now. "Speaking of him, why are you so friendly towards him? He's killed so many people, but most hurtful to you was the death of your wife."
My words stung both of them simultaneously. Gentry went to speak, but Pontiff White cut him off. "Serus, there are things I never mentioned to you that I regret. You seemed to be so eager to bring down The Syndicate that I didn't want to derail you by giving up too much of my past, or Gentry's. I'm sorry if you feel that I betrayed you, but my only goal was to stoke the fire burning in your soul to seek and administer justice."
I started to feel sick, as if a rug was about to be pulled out from under me and I was to fall to my death. "What are you trying to tell me?" I asked. My palms were sweaty and I balled up my fists nervously, waiting for an answer.
"Do you remember when I revealed to you how I was made Pontiff?"
"I do.”
"There was a small detai
l I left out because I didn't think you would believe me. Gentry did kill my wife and unborn child, but he wasn't the cold-blooded killer The Agency wanted him to be. In fact, he was like you in that he was fighting the programming, trying to preserve the part of himself that made him human. It was The Agency and their wicked ways that resulted in his being chosen to kill my wife. They chose him because Ambree was his sister," Pontiff White struggled to get the words out through the strain of both physical and emotional pain. He was breathing heavily and I could see tears pouring from his eyes.
I looked over to Gentry and saw the same hurt carved upon his face. "Is this true?"
He looked up at me and nodded. "It is. But there's more to the story than that," he said. "You know how the programming constantly steers you in whatever direction you are meant to go, essentially turning you into a heartless, brainless killer. My final test as a Prospect was to carry out this hit. I had a feeling they were catching on to the fact I was struggling to conform, and they decided to try to kill two birds with one stone. If I killed her, then I would have proved my loyalty to The Agency and The Syndicate; if I failed to do so, then someone else would carry out the hit and come for me as well. Ambree knew this and she forced my hand and urged me to do it, saying she knew she would be killed, no matter what, and two deaths were better than three. I fought the urge, but in the end the programming won and my gauntlet fired into her chest. I felt like a monster for what I had done."
Gentry braced himself against the wall and held his head in his hands. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This whole time, I thought I was the only one who had struggled so much with the programming. But now I knew I was wrong. "So did you see the same struggle in me?" I asked.
After wiping tears from his face he answered me. "I did during the administering of the programming. The doctor registered abnormalities any time my name or image was presented to you. I knew you connected me to the death of your father, so I had the doctor strip some of your memories, or at least make them foggy to you in order to keep you from remembering me. In order to make it easier, I put in for a transfer to Clenist until I retired. It wasn't until you completely broke through the haze of the programming that you were able to really remember me."
I thought about it and could remember seeing him from time to time with some faint recollection I couldn't place. "I can see it now," I said. "But why hide this from me?"
Gentry stepped forward, "because we needed a weapon against The Syndicate they wouldn't see coming. I was an obvious threat.”
"As was I, but Gentry persuaded me to be patient and wait for him to find a Prospect more akin to this kind of revolution,” Pontiff White said. “That’s you."
My mind was on fire from all of the information flooding into it. The path I took had seemed so natural to me, but now I knew it was laid out for me by two men bent on revenge. I didn't know whether to be angry or feel honored to be the instrument of their will. On one hand, I had been manipulated, but on the other, The Syndicate deserved to fall. My thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of Laurel's communicator. I looked over my shoulder at her as she answered it.
"Hello.”
I could hear a man speaking on the other end of the line, but I couldn't make out his words. I had almost forgotten that Kara, Laurel, and Nila were behind me during my exchange with the two older men, but I noticed there was urgency to the voice on the other line, and now I was intrigued to find out what was going on.
"It's for you," she said to Kara.
My sister grabbed the communicator from Laurel's hand and put it to her ear. "This is Kara," she said and then her eyes widened as a voice spoke. "Hello, Harris. It's so good to hear your voice." Her conversation continued for several minutes until she finally said, "I love you too." Almost as soon as she said those words, there was a loud sound, followed by a ringing noise with intermittent static. I didn't know what was going on, but I was sure it wasn't anything good. I could almost smell her fear as she looked at me and her eyes welled with tears. "It's Harris. Something's wrong."
Chapter 7
I noticed a trembling in Kara's hands as she finished with the call. Everything had seemed fine at first, but the conversation was cut short by something that sent chills down my spine. "What happened?" I asked. The sound coming from the receiver was horrendous.
"I...I don't know," she stammered. Her words were barely audible as she seemed to lose her breath.
Gentry stepped closer, "That sounded like a building being demolished. I recognize the sound from my tour in Clenist just before I retired. There was a lot of construction going on during that time, and the crews would implode buildings to make things go quicker." His words were not very comforting.
"How would a building just implode like that?" Kara asked.
I knew what Gentry was going to say before he even spoke. "Someone had to set off a charge." There was a worried expression on his face.
"So it was intentional?" she asked. There was pain in her eyes and she looked at me for me to do something. I wrapped her in my arms hoping to console her.
"It must have been retaliation from his uncle," I said. There was a sickening feeling in my stomach to think my friend could have been a victim of such circumstances. Maybe we’re wrong, I thought, but it was hard to not dwell on the impending loss of life.
"We need to do something!" Kara cried. She fell to her knees and let the open communicator fall to the floor with a clatter. The connection was still active, but all we could hear was static; and then a voice spoke.
"This is Treston, ruler of Faracon. I trust you can hear me, Serus Blackwell. My nephew's city has fallen, but I have not yet taken his life. Instead, I am holding him prisoner in exchange for you. The Syndicate wants you to pay for what you've done, so prove yourself a hero and come back to Earth; surrender yourself to them or I will take Harris' life. I'm sure your sister, Kara, will be proud of your decision not to let the man she cares so deeply for perish. You have six months to return, or he dies." The line went dead with his final words and Kara looked up at me. She looked helpless and afraid.
I knew exactly what needed to be done. I had to go back and save him. "I have to go," I said. "Kara, you need to stay and help repair the atmosphere." I started pacing the room, trying to dispel some of the pent up rage burning inside of me.
"To hell with that," she said. "I'm going with you!" She was just as stubborn as I was, and I knew better than to fight her on this, but I felt obligated to do so.
I went to protest, but Gentry cut me off. "What is going on?"
"Harris is a friend of ours and he leads a small city that is often attacked by his crazy uncle. While we were on Earth we helped him attack Faracon in return for his help retrieving data we needed to save Mars. Apparently, his uncle is out for revenge and is being backed by The Syndicate. Had we never helped Harris, none of this would be happening, but it seemed like the right thing to do. His uncle is just like any of the members of The Syndicate—corrupt and malevolent." I told him.
Gentry looked at Pontiff White and both of them nodded at each other over something unsaid, but still understood between them. "I propose we go back and take the fight to The Syndicate. The Agency has already been dismantled, and there are many out-of-work policemen who would be willing to fight against them. This last year has done a lot to undo the damage The Agency had created. It took some time, but we figured out how to relieve the policemen of their programming. We should assemble a small army and go on the attack," Gentry suggested.
I was caught off guard by his enthusiastic response towards war. "That's crazy!" I said. "Faracon has a large army and the members of The Syndicate on Earth are armed with gauntlets as well. If we go as an army, Harris will surely be put to death." Saying it out loud hurt more than I could say.
The room was silent enough to hear a pin drop. Gentry had the right idea, but I didn't want my friend executed just so my life could be spared. There was too much at stake for such a small demand. I felt I owed it
to him to do the right thing; he did for us.
"I agree with Gentry," Kara said. There were tears in her eyes, but her arms were crossed and she had the look of someone who wasn't going to take no for an answer.
"Me too," said Laurel as she wrapped her arms around me. "The Syndicate is cocky and feels as if they have the upper hand. We should go back and annihilate them." Her words caused a murmur amongst our group as the first moments of a rebellion being born followed.
"There will be too many casualties," I said feeling responsible for whatever aftermath would come in the wake of our actions.
"There already have been," Kara said. "If Midican has fallen then what do you think happened to Ben and Jenna and everyone else?" she asked. She made an excellent point. We couldn't let them all die in vain.
"What do we need to do to arrange this?" I asked. I needed a plan, or at least an idea that resembled a plan.
Gentry smiled. "Leave that all to me," he said. "I've had experience putting together task forces and I know the right people to put something like this together." There was something wild in his eyes, like a child playing with fire for the first time and enjoying the devastating effects of holding that kind of power in their hands.
Something told me a man like him had it all under control.
Chapter 8
Gentry left the room and, even with the hurtful past we all shared, there seemed to be a sense of communion among us. I had never killed a member of my family, but I did kill the person I considered to be my best friend. Thom had been a good friend until The Syndicate got to him. They promised to save him if he betrayed me. Somewhere inside his head, he felt he had to comply with them as he was trained to do. He may have been following orders, but my sister's life was at stake. The way he betrayed me stung in a way I couldn't explain at the time, but now I understood it. I carried guilt from the act of killing him, just as I imagined Gentry carried it for his part in his sister's death. As sick as it sounded, that almost made us kindred in some kind of strange way.