by Simone Pond
On the way back, I pass an abandoned bike rack and take one of the rusty ten-speeds. I wonder who it belonged to before the Repatterning. Was the owner at the beach when the fires started? Or had they already left town just to be killed somewhere else? Sunset Boulevard has become a deserted wasteland. Dirt and debris scatter the barren earth for miles. The mansions and trees that used to line the streets are gone. All that remains are piles of ruin. Los Angeles is a vast terrain of nothing. My father did this. I think about the great fire of Rome. Nero blamed the Christians, but most people knew it was him. They’ll both have to answer to someone.
Pedaling up the incline, I have a clear shot of the Los Angeles City Center. Sunlight gleams off the solar panels, almost blinding me. I stop and take in the massive structure sitting on top of where downtown used to be. From the outside it looks ominous and unpleasant. That is the future. Things will never go back to the way they were. With the elites still running things, there’s only one possible world—the one they create. I can’t let that happen. My father spawned this destruction to create order out of what he called chaos. He’s gone now. It’s up to me to rebuild a new world from the ashes he left behind.
Chapter 25
The days and weeks that follow after Sarah’s arrival blend into months. It’s the end of winter. What used to be known as the holidays passed without anyone paying attention. Sarah’s stomach is round and she’s close to the due date. Old Martha has been taking good care of her. I try to stay out of her hair, but in the evenings I sit down and read to her. I started with To Kill a Mockingbird in hopes of learning a thing or two about being a strong role model, and per her request I read Little Women—as a reminder that women can get along just fine without men. When the baby kicks she takes my hand and places it on the round curve of her stomach. I haven’t felt any movement, but she assures me there’s plenty.
Dickson’s been locked down in the lab working on the upload technology for the elites. He does the occasional chip-monitoring test on me to help with his research. I’ve made it a point to spend my days studying the technology and learning as much as I can about DNA coding, as well as coming up with strategies to take down the elites. Dickson’s campaigning for us to move into the City Center, which I’m not sold on, but I’m learning as much as I can about the mainframe just in case we have no other choice. Things are going to start getting dangerous with the people left behind and we’ll need better protection. The City Center can provide a more fortified shelter. Sarah prefers to live with Lillian’s people out in the woods, or anywhere other than the City Center.
“If you want any say in our future, you’ll want to be inside the City Center, learning as much as you can about the mainframe. We need leverage over them.”
“I have different priorities now,” says Sarah.
“Don’t you want to have some control over what happens in the future?” I ask.
“Not the one they’re building,” she says.
“That’s why we need to stop them and make things right.”
“Why don’t we start small?” She puts my hand over her stomach and I feel a kick. She smiles.
She doesn’t understand this is for our baby. We need to create a safe environment to shield him from the elites and whatever else might be coming. The argument ends the same way every time: she’s more focused on delivering the baby while I’m intent of securing a safe future. I’ve seen what the elites can do—we all have. I’m unsure why she’s not more concerned. Her faith is in God, she says. My faith is in is locking down a solid plan. Part of that plan is conquering the elites so I can get things back on track.
I visit Dickson in the lab and we discuss possible solutions.
“We might need to lay low for now,” says Dickson.
“I’m not going to just give up. You see what they do to their own.” I pause for a second, shoving away the memory of Dru at the dining room table. “I refuse to live with that fear looming over my head. Be assured, Dickson, I’m going to take them down. Starting with Pigface, since he’s the most dangerous. Then I’ll go after the rest of them for as long as it takes.”
“You could die in the process and then where does that leave Sarah and your child?”
“I came up with a contingency plan. One that you must promise to hold in place no matter what.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I want you to promise me that if something happens you’ll take everything you’ve collected from my mind—all of my memories, thoughts, my consciousness—and upload all of it into a new body.”
“You’re asking me to do the upload procedure on you—the same one I’m refining for the elites?”
“Yes. If anything happens to me—you must save me. Bring me back. Promise me, Dickson.”
“You’re not planning on doing anything right now are you? I still haven’t perfected the procedure.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take your suggestion and lay low until the baby is born.”
Dickson stares at me for a few moments and nods. “Of course, I’ll do it. I can’t promise you it’ll work, but I’ll do everything in my power.”
“Do I have your word, Dickson?”
“You have my word.” He extends his hand and we shake.
“You’re the only person on this planet that I trust besides Sarah. I’m putting my life in your hands.” We lock eyes and now I see what perhaps my mother saw: a decent and caring man. “Also, you must keep this between us. No one else can know.”
After a day of studying microbiology, I have a throbbing headache. I need to find an easier way to absorb the information. I go to my room to rest. I’m down to my last tab. It’s tucked inside a pack of gum in the far corner of the bottom drawer. I’ve been sneaking tabs for the last few months; they’re my only escape. I carefully open the flap and pull out the faded blue tablet and pop it into my mouth. It tastes like rotten blueberries, but I don’t care. I choke it down, making sure every last morsel gets into my blood stream.
I sit on my couch and stare out the window. The sunlight casts a pale golden hue over the trees. I listen to the palm trees rustle in the breeze, soft at first, but the swooshing grows louder until it sounds like an ocean inside my head. Swooooosh. Swooooosh. Swooooosh. I focus on a single leaf, the long green hand that leads to a sharp point. It’s the only thing I see. It’s the only thing in existence. I feel myself floating away from the couch and drifting toward the leaf. It’s reeling me in. I circle around the edges a few times, then land on the stem and slide down toward the center vein. Tiny droplets of green light pump through the narrow pathways. I slide off the stem and plunge into the cuticle of the leaf, gliding underneath and dripping into one of its cells. I rest against the soft walls of the squishy green cocoon. Stillness. Peace. A gust of wind blows the leaf and I fall away, sailing into the quiet calm.
Chapter 26
“William,” Sarah’s voice comes over me. “Hey.” I sit up and focus my eyes. The sun has faded and twilight is settling in.
She stands over me. “I thought you were finished with all of that stuff.”
I roll off the couch and stand up. “I had a headache,” I tell her.
“Where’s Dickson?” I ask.
“In the lab. I know you have work to do, but this baby’s coming soon. I’ve had contractions all day.”
“All day?” I feel a jolt of excitement.
“Yes, started this morning.”
“You need to get to bed. I’ll get Dickson and Martha.”
I take the elevator to the lab and bang on the metal door. I don’t like that Dickson has it locked. There should be no more closed doors. From now on everything’s going to be monitored; I want to know about every single happening that takes place in this house. Nothing will go under my radar.
Dickson opens the door.
“The baby is coming. I need your help. I can’t do this on my own.”
“Okay, but you need to take a deep breath.”
“Do you have any
thing to calm me down?”
Dickson takes me into the lab and sits me down. He returns with a syringe. “It’ll settle your nerves, but your mind will be sharp and clear.”
Whatever he shoots into my veins takes less than ten seconds to quell my entire nervous system. My lungs open up and I can breathe again. I’m steady. Dickson grabs a bag of equipment and we head up to Sarah’s room. I stop by the kitchen to tell Old Martha to bring up some blankets and towels.
Sarah is in bed with a sheet loosely wrapped around her. Sweat drips from her forehead and she’s cringing in severe pain. Old Martha wipes off her face and gives her a sip of water. I stand by the window, watching from a safe distance. I don’t know what to do. Dickson’s no obstetrician, but he’s handling the situation with ease. He feels around the outside of Sarah’s stomach and she releases a scream that shakes the windows.
“Your first time doing this?” I ask Dickson.
“Actually, no. Can you come over here? I need your help with the epidural.”
“I don’t know. I should wait over here.”
“Shut up and help him!” yells Sarah.
I walk over to the bed. He’s holding a huge needle that reminds me of a turkey baster. “You’re putting that into her?”
“Be quiet, you’re making this worse.” Sarah throws a wet towel at me.
“Help keep her steady.” Dickson rolls Sarah onto her side. She’s swatting at us and kicking. “Hold her down.”
I use all my weight to keep her down as he inserts the needle into her back. I can’t watch what happens next because I don’t want to puke everywhere. After a few minutes Sarah’s body eases up and relaxes. I step away and take my place by the window, glancing over every now and again.
“You’re a wimp!” Sarah laughs.
“Dickson’s doing a fine job.”
“William, come over here and witness this—the miracle of life.” Dickson looks up from in between Sarah’s legs. He keeps telling her to push while Old Martha stands by, patting her forehead. Sarah’s face is contorting. She’s in awful pain and it’s my fault.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.
“For what?”
“For making you go through this.”
“Shut up and get over here.” She tries to smile through her grunting.
I don’t know how she can be happy right now. Nothing about this is amusing. I creep closer to Dickson and glance under the sheet. All I see is a bunch of mess and I don’t want to get anywhere near it. Sarah belts out a loud howl. I look over Dickson’s shoulder and that’s when I see it—the crown of the baby’s head.
“I see it! I see it!” I shout.
“You’re doing great. Almost there—a few more big pushes.” Dickson encourages Sarah. She gives one last push and the baby’s in Dickson’s arms. I’m blown away. My child… It’s squirming in his hands. “It’s a boy!” He clips the umbilical chord, drains the fluids from the baby’s mouth, and brings him over to Sarah. She nestles the bloody little guy against her chest. Tears stream down her cheeks and she’s beaming with joy.
“Thank you.” Sarah smiles at Dickson.
Old Martha helps wipe off the blood and other junk. “You still have a little more work to do,” says Old Martha, placing a bowl between Sarah’s legs.
This is my cue to leave. “I’ll be right outside if you need me. Get some rest, Sarah. I’m proud of you.”
“Don’t you want to pick a name?” she says.
I think about the Repatterning and the great fires that destroyed the country, killing millions. I think about the layer of ash covering over everything. There’s only one name fitting for this miracle child.
“Let’s call him Phoenix.”
Chapter 27
Every morning for the last month I start the day by checking on Sarah and Phoenix. She’s happy and our son is healthy. She gives me a summary of how he slept, how many times she fed him, the noises he made and how much she loves him. I stand by the window and listen, the whole time staring at the City Center thinking about our future. After she’s finished, I hold Phoenix for a few minutes. The smell of new life gives me my daily dose of motivation. He coos and reaches for my face with his big brown eyes fixating on me. He’s the only thing I’m living for now. My sole responsibility is to keep him safe. I whisper in his tiny ear, telling him how he will rise up out of the ash his grandfather created to build a better future.
“One day you’re going to help me make the world right again, my dear son.”
“He should probably learn to walk first,” says Sarah.
I hand Phoenix back to her and move on to the next part of my morning routine, which entails meeting Dickson in the lab. I’ve convinced him it’d be more efficient if he could figure out a way to upload information directly onto my internal chip. I figured why not put the chip to use. It’s already inside of me. If Dickson could capture my memories and download my consciousness to an external hard drive, why couldn’t he upload information into my brain? The chip that once tried to destroy me is now a part of me. I’m learning as much as possible about DNA replication and the uploading process, as well as the City Center’s mainframe and Dickson’s team of Planners.
Dickson started with small increments of information because the pain was overwhelming at first. After some adjustments to the process, the discomfort eased. Dickson found ways to block the pain without interfering with my neurotransmitters. Information flowed into my prefrontal cortex and was captured as though I had studied reference books for years. Within days, my level of knowledge surpassed Genome Biology. Within weeks I could comprehend the entire spectrum of molecular biology, cell biology, organism, and population biology. I was an expert in genomic research. I could see things with a clearer perspective and my perception opened up to new dimensions. Dickson and I could now discuss RNA binding proteins and footprint sequencing just as easily as chatting about the weather.
Sarah, who’s technically gifted, continues to grow more annoyed with our scientific banter at the dinner table. “Can you two speak English? The stuff you’re talking about sounds like science fiction.”
“It’s science, but it’s no longer fiction.” I laugh. She doesn’t think it’s funny. “All right, I’m sorry. Look, you know how important this is. If I’m going to outsmart the elites, I need to be prepared.”
“Why don’t you just bring Pigface here and kill him point blank? You’re over thinking everything.”
She might be right. I have been over thinking everything. Or possibly over compensating to avoid getting duped again. I want to ensure I don’t get double-crossed ever again. But the longer I continue contemplating the details of going after Pigface, the more I put all of us at risk.
“That’s it. Set up a meeting, Dickson. Tell them you’ve had another breakthrough. Use me as an excuse. Tell him about how we’ve been able to upload data onto the chip and that we want to demonstrate the procedure.”
Sarah looks at me with some concern. “William, I was kinda joking about inviting Pigface over for a rematch.”
“Have you forgotten what this is about?” I ask her.
“Have you?”
“To create a better world for my son.”
“He’s our son.”
“And after I get rid of Pigface and the rest of those scum, we can start rebuilding. I already have the initial phases in place. You haven’t seemed interested in the process, but it’s happening. And the sooner the elites are out of the picture, the sooner we can move forward. We need to start migrating the leftovers from the Emergency Crisis Camps into the City Center to provide better living conditions. We’re even going to implement upgrades to individuals the same way we’ve been doing with my chip. The more people we get upgraded, the more resolute we’ll be. Strength in numbers—that’s what we need.”
She pushes away her plate and gets up from the table. “Do you hear yourself, William? You sound insane. First of all, you’re calling human beings “leftovers” and you’re talking abo
ut giving them upgrades? You sound just like an elite. Your mission was to get rid of them, not become one of them. What’s happened to you?”
“It may sound crazy, but even without the elites in the way, there will be a lot of work. There will be rebel forces and panicked people. We need a secure and safe place for Phoenix. If I have control over the people inside the center, they belong to me and they won’t turn against me. No more potential threats ever again.”
“I know your father destroyed everything, and I know Dru crushed you, William. But you can’t be serious.”
“Trust me, Sarah. I’m doing this for Phoenix. I want to be the father I never had.” I take hold of her arm and she pulls away, running toward the staircase.
“Am I supposed to chase after her?” I ask Dickson.
“She’s pretty upset, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Will you just set up a meeting with Pigface? I’ll take care of him first, then start picking off the others.”
*
In the morning I wake up to Old Martha sitting next to my bed.
“Good morning,” she says in her raspy voice.
Something’s wrong. “What’s going on?”
“I have a letter for you.” She sighs.
“A letter? From who?”
“It’s probably for the best.” She hands it to me and leaves the room.
I lean back against the pillows and slowly unfold the letter. In my experience, letters rarely hold good news.
It’s from Sarah.
Dear William,
Before you do anything, I ask that you think of your son—this is for Phoenix.
From the first day we met in the Subterranea, I admired your spirit and determination to do the right thing. You inspired me to grow and change. I know you never meant to hurt me. It’s through this new life we created that I’ve been able to forgive you. But you’re changing and I don’t know you any more. You started out on a mission to take down the elites, and now you’re doing exactly what they set out to do. I fear there’s more of your father in you than you realize.