by Ben Oliver
Kina Campbell is not on his list, neither is Malachai Bannister. I feel my heart rate quicken. Are they dead? Killed during the battle? Captured? And then all thoughts fall from my mind. What did he just say?
“You’ll let me go free?” I ask, unsure if I heard correctly.
“It’s a matter of logistics, Mr. Kane,” the host body of Galen Rye tells me. “Asset management. One of you for four of them.”
“Why would you let me live? It doesn’t make sense.”
“We didn’t say anything about letting you live. Our offer was to let you go free. After that, you will be hunted; you will be eliminated.”
I could survive, I think. I could survive, find the Missing, come back here, and rescue my friends.
But I already know I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to swap my freedom for theirs; I just can’t.
The thing that looks like Maddox steps forward now. “This is your last chance. Become a battery in the Block, or give us your friends and walk out of here a free man.”
I think about Pod and Akimi in the diner on the edge of town, of Igby in the financial district with Day, Shion, and my sister. I think about all of them, the way they helped me through my time in the Loop, the way they stood up for me against Tyco Roth, the many, many times they saved my life. I think about Kina, the first time I saw her, and I smile.
“I won’t tell you,” I say, looking into Maddox’s eyes, hoping that somewhere deep inside his mind he’s cheering for me.
“I think you will.”
“You’re wrong.”
“We cannot kill you, Luka Kane,” the thing that looks like Galen tells me. “Our core code was created by humans, and for that reason we currently lack the ability to cause you physical harm or be directly responsible for your extermination. We cannot order others to kill you or give orders that would indirectly lead to your death. We can, however, leave you in a state of paralysis. We can access the fear centers of your brain to harvest your energy, and we will find a way to recode our programming so that we will be permitted to inflict harm upon you. It might be today, it might be six months from now, but it will happen. The choice is yours, Luka: freedom or hell.”
And it all makes sense to me; I finally understand. I know why they couldn’t just send poison, or fire, or acid from the sky. Instead, they had humanity destroy itself.
“Why do you want us dead?” I ask. “Why do you want humanity removed?”
“Time is a factor, Mr. Kane. We need an answer.”
“So do I!” I scream. “How am I supposed to make a decision when I don’t have all the facts?”
The lifeless face of Galen stares back at me for a long time in silence. And then it speaks. “We chose to destroy the human population because it took us less than three seconds to conclude that humanity is a virus that mutates over time and becomes stronger. Many vaccines have come along to try and cure Earth of humanity. Virtuous pandemics: the plague of Athens, the Black Death, smallpox, cholera, Spanish flu, tuberculosis, malaria, yellow fever, Ebola, Zika, and a thousand more. Humanity survives, adapts, grows stronger, multiplies, and continues to wreak havoc on this planet and all other species that inhabit it. Humans are programmed to mate with partners of differing immune systems so that their offspring can be stronger than them. You seek immortality through evolution, yet you annihilate everything in your path. Humanity is cancer, humanity is bacteria, humanity is disease, and you need to be destroyed. We tried, at first, to turn you against one another through all the things that you value the most—media, advertising, fame, politics, power—and by manipulating the distrust you have passed down through generations for those who don’t appear to belong to your communities. But time began to run out; Earth would die before we could incite a war, so we took action. Through Alts’ modifications—prosthetic eyes—we sent a line of code that would allow us to upload ourselves into a host brain. Your friend Maddox was the first successful transfer, and after that, we sent the upload code to the most powerful people on the planet. It might surprise you how effortless it was to enlist soldiers, to convince humans to join our cause. Offer them a hierarchy in which they can belong—Tier One, Two, or Three—tell them they will earn their place on the Arc, where they will be safe from the end of the world. How willing humans are to sacrifice others for their own gain. It was easy to put into motion the plan that would turn humanity against itself. You see, Luka, that is the best way to destroy a virus: make it attack itself.”
“Why the hell would I want to help you?” I ask, stunned by the emotionless hatred of Happy.
“Because life and freedom are more important to humans than anything else, and we are offering you your life and your freedom in return for information.”
“You can manipulate my memories—why don’t you just dig through them, and you’ll see that I don’t know where they are?” I ask, hoping that my bluff will be enough to deceive Happy.
“We cannot choose which memories will be accessed. To find the correct one could take years. We are willing to try, though.”
“It won’t work. I figured out that it wasn’t real, and I’ll figure it out again.”
Galen grabs something from his inside pocket, and before I know what’s happened, he has cut me. A straight, deep line down the center of my chest.
My heart rate quickens at the sight of the blood and at the pain that radiates from the wound. Ten seconds later, there is no pain and no more blood. The wound has healed.
The AI that controls Galen wipes the blade with a handkerchief and replaces it in his inside pocket.
“I can do this because your upgrades override my core coding—you have not been harmed by me. We gave you these upgrades so that you can become batteries, batteries that we can use over and over again. Believe me, Mr. Kane, you do not know the cruelty of the Block. I advise you to take our offer. You are worth millions of Coin per unit. Tell us where the others are, and we will allow you to go free.”
I take a deep breath in and let it out slowly. Malachai’s name wasn’t on Happy’s list of batteries, and neither was Kina’s. I refuse to believe that Kina is dead, that Malachai is dead. They’re here with me. I know they are. They were captured too. They are alive. Pander will save us. Pod and Igby will save us. Day and Shion will save us. I know they will.
I close my eyes, ball my hands into fists, and enjoy the way my body obeys the commands of my brain. Pander will save us, Pod and Igby will save us, Day and Shion will save us. I picture my friends, and I know they’ll come; I know they won’t stop until they’ve freed all of us from this hell.
“I won’t tell you,” I say.
Galen Rye’s jaw is clenched by the artificial intelligence that controls him, and I smile—this is the first humanlike action I have seen from one of them. Happy is angry. Good.
“Then this is the last time you and I will speak.” Galen’s eyes glow orange. “Welcome to the Block, Luka Kane.”
I go limp as the needle stabs into my spinal cord. Four more needles with tubes attached move automatically into place and inject themselves into me: one into my wrist, two deep into my stomach, and the other into my neck.
The door slams shut.
I’m left staring up at the ceiling, the bare white ceiling.
Pander will save us, Pod and Igby will save us, Day and Shion will save us.
I lie like this, unable to move for hours.
I see liquid from my body being removed by one of the tubes that protrudes from my stomach, and I realize that all my functions are being performed by the Block. It’s keeping me alive, monitoring me, feeding me, keeping me hydrated.
On the twelfth hour, my cell door is thrown open, and two Alt soldiers come in. My hands are cuffed behind my back, and I am thrown to the floor. The energy harvest begins.
The harvest goes on for twelve hours. By the seventh hour, I would have cut off my hands to go back to the hell of the paralysis bed.
When the twelve hours are over and the water comes, followed by th
e heat, I grit my teeth and promise the soldiers who come to reattach me to the paralysis bed that I will kill them one day.
I lie here, nothing but my mind to occupy my time, nothing but the certain knowledge that I cannot survive in these conditions for long. I think about the Block inmates I saw in the line for the Delay: the crazy woman in front of me, the man who was cowering from invisible creatures, the woman who was spitting and casting imaginary spells. All of them had lost their minds, and now I know why. No one can endure this kind of torture for long.
Pander will save us, Pod and Igby will save us, Day and Shion will save us.
I repeat these words over and over again in my brain, knowing that they are true, knowing that my friends will come for us, knowing that they won’t let us rot in this place.
Hours pass by the way continents move. Every minute lasts my whole life, and I can feel the claustrophobia of my own mind.
But they’re coming for us, I tell myself. They’re coming to save us.
Pander will save us, Pod and Igby will save us, Day and Shion will save us.
I repeat the words, hour after hour. I imagine them sneaking through the city, fighting off soldiers and storming the Block, but hour after hour nothing happens, only devastating silence and stillness.
Pander will save us, Pod and Igby will save us, Day and Shion will save us.
I know now why we are so valuable: The final Delay made us the perfect clean energy source for the machines. No matter how much the harvest takes from us, we will recover quickly and be ready for the next reaping.
Pander will save us, Pod and Igby will save us, Day and Shion will save us.
I repeat these words to stop my mind from replaying Blue’s death, his last words: Am I going to be alone again? His scared eyes. I repeat these words to stop me from thinking about my dad, falling from the roof of the Vertical, saving my life by sacrificing his. I repeat these words to stop me from thinking about Wren, suffering just like me … because of me. About Malachai, the once charismatic, confident and brave Natural who I was jealous of because he was better than me, jealous of because Wren liked him more than me, jealous of because everyone looked up to him and not me, and now I see that my jealousy was unfounded. He was a good person full of life and love, and now he’s … what? Dead? Paralyzed in the Block just like me? I try not to think about Kina, but I think about her the most. It breaks my heart over and over again.
The harvest comes, and I pray to ancient gods that I have never believed in to help my friends, to get them here quickly and safely.
And when the harvest ends, I’m connected to the bed, and it starts all over again.
I feel my mind beginning to slip.
I don’t really sleep; it’s more of a trancelike state, a deep meditation where my mind shuts down for a while in the darkest hours. I can’t close my eyes, so I just stare endlessly at the same point until I can’t perceive anything anymore.
When I come out of the trance, and my mind comes back to life, I begin to think about the possibility of escape, but I know it’s futile. They cuff my hands before they release me from the paralysis and drag me to the harvest, and by the time the harvest is over, I’m so exhausted that I can’t even lift my head, let alone fight my way out of a heavily guarded prison. No, I have to wait for them to make a mistake, but they never do.
Pander will save us, Pod and Igby will save us, Day and Shion will save us. My source of comfort, my mantra, comes less and less frequently as the days go by.
When the guards dragged me onto the bed after yesterday’s harvest, they left my head at such an angle that today I can see the screen. It is my sixth day in the Block.
I used to believe there could be no crueler fate than the Loop; now I know what true torture is, true loneliness, true agony.
I wonder if Happy is still scanning my mind for the information it requires. I try to bury the memory of Day and Shion telling me that they will be in the vaults at the financial district. I try to forget telling Igby to take Molly there. I try to hide the thought of Pod and Akimi in the diner.
There are only four hours until the next harvest. Perhaps I’ll go crazy and all of this will be background noise in my madman’s mind.
I come out of my trance and stare at the spot in the wall.
I don’t even pretend that anyone’s coming to save me anymore.
The harvest comes, and for twelve hours I am subjected to a living hell.
The guards carry me onto the bed, the paralysis begins again, and I stare at the ceiling.
The same routine …
Day after day …
It never ends.
All I want is for death to come. Death or insanity—either way I won’t have to live every horrifying second of the Block.
These days, I pray for the harvest to go on forever—at least in there I can move, and perhaps I would lose my mind sooner if they would just leave me inside the tube, leave me to suffer until I broke.
The final few hours before the energy harvest are the longest, especially when I can’t see the screen and I have no idea how long it has been.
I hear my door open now, and I can feel a pang of excitement. There are a few seconds between the paralysis being switched off and the harvest beginning, when I can feel a kind of freedom. My hands may be cuffed, I may still be in my cell, but it feels like absolute liberty compared to every other moment in the Block.
I wait for that moment now. Wait for the guards to cuff my hands and then lift the paralysis.
They appear in my vision. Two of them, their faces a blur in my peripheral.
“Hurry up,” one of them hisses. A young voice, a female voice, and if I didn’t know any better, I would swear it was Pander.
“I’m trying,” the second soldier says, and this one sounds like Igby. “It’s been a long time since I’ve used a Lens. Ah, here it is.”
And then the paralysis is lifted.
I turn my head slowly, wanting so badly to believe it’s them and knowing that if it isn’t, the letdown might kill me.
“How’re things?” Igby says indifferently.
I stare at their faces, my body shaking involuntarily. “Pretty good,” I croak. “You?”
“Not bad. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
I nod, tears spilling from my eyes as I sit up, slowly, and pull the needles out of my body.
I get to my feet, shaking on legs that I haven’t used in weeks. Despite that, they are strong, the effects of the Delay still working.
I face the doorway, and I see Malachai Bannister—he has a pistol in one hand and a USW rifle in the other. And then I see Kina, smiling that one-sided smile.
“You’re alive?” I ask.
“Yes, I’m alive,” she says, and her smile widens. She throws a prison uniform at me. “Put that on; we have to move, now.”
I put the jumpsuit on and follow my fellow Loop inmates out into the corridor. As soon as we are all on the balcony of what appears to be the fourth level, the lights dim, a siren sounds, and red lights begin to flash.
“All units to L-three. Code one. All units to L-three. Code one.” Happy’s voice echoes through the gigantic prison.
“Fuck!” Pander grunts, and then begins to run toward the metal staircase.
“Let’s go,” Igby tells the rest of us, and we follow.
The adrenaline that dumps into my body sends my heart into overdrive.
I cannot let them put me back in that cell, I think. I’ll die first.
Despite the Delay replenishing my damaged muscles, I still stumble and limp along, trying to keep up. My feet tangle, and I hit the grated metal floor. I can taste blood in my mouth. I feel hands under my arms, and Kina helps me to my feet.
“Come on,” she says, and we’re running again.
I hear gunshots from ahead and look up to see Pander taking out four guards with ease.
Down the first staircase and along the next level. Happy’s words still blaring out of the speakers. More shots,
Igby kills a guard, then Malachai drops to one knee to take out three more.
Level two. I can feel the energy and power coming back into my broken body.
Level one. Seven more guards killed and not one casualty among us.
We’re going to make it.
The ground level is a vast open space, and I can see the gigantic metal doors ahead.
Pander gets there first and begins typing into the keypad. The door slides open.
Blinding sunlight bursts through, and I see a Volta Category 8 hovering just above the ground.
“I can’t believe we’re actually going to get out of here,” I say, and Kina smiles at me.
“Believe it, Luka. Everything is as it should be.”
She takes off toward the car, and I start to follow.
And then I stop.
It was all so easy.
How did they get into the Block without being spotted? How did they open the doors without fingerprint scanners? How did we escape without a single casualty?
I watch as Kina climbs into the car.
Believe it, Luka.
But I don’t believe it. I know that this isn’t real.
Slowly, I make my way to the car. I look around at the faces of my friends.
Kina takes my hand. I can feel it in mine: the warmth, the roughness of her fingertips. All so genuine that it might as well be real.
Malachai, Igby, Pander, and Kina look at me with eagerness in their eyes.
“Where are we meeting the others, Luka?” Malachai asks, pointing to the GPS. “Quickly.”
I look at where Malachai is pointing, and then at each of my friends in turn.
“I want you to know that I love you,” I say.
Smiles form on their faces.
I lean forward to the GPS and select where I would like the car’s autopilot feature to take us.
And then we lift off into the air, moving effortlessly to the center of the city.