by Aaron Denius
“So, we leave them here?” 13 steps out of the bathroom.
“Yes.” I close the door and lock it. “We'll come back tomorrow and see what has happened—if the contents of the vials do what we hoped they would do.”
We head back out to the front of the building and stand outside the door. I need to make sure that I can remember which building we left them in, so I look around for a rock or something sharp. Nothing stands out, but I spot the tip of my rifle out of the corner of my eye.
“What are you doing?” He looks at me like I'm crazy.
“I made a lucky guess when I chose this building. I don't want to be in the situation again. It's too risky.” I step to the wall next to the front door. I scrape the same image that I had etched above the door at the stadium with the tip of my rifle. One circular eye and one large chunk for my patch.
“I knew you scraped the eye and patch on the wall near your room. It looked fresher than the other carvings.” 13 smiles with pride at his sleuthing skills.
“Well, now there are two carvings. You can collect them.” I laugh. He joins in, and we walk away. We take a longer route back, trading mirth for most of the journey to the stadium.
The rest of the day, I keep to my room. My mind alternates between anxiety on leading this new crop of drones and visions of KJ and me. She is a distraction worth every lost moment that my mind strays, but if I can't focus on the main reason Farouk brought me here, it will be for nothing. If the scientists succeed in destroying the world, my time with KJ will be short-lived.
After one of the best nights of sleep I have had since I arrived, I wake with a renewed energy and focus. I shower and head to the exterior of the stadium to meet 13. He comes a few moments after me and thrusts a prod into my arms.
We speed to Badwater and run up the stairs to the bathroom door. The carving on the wall makes the building much easier to spot.
“You ready for this?” 13 sounds as anxious as I am to see the results of the liquid in the vials.
“Yes. Let's see what we got.” I reach for the door handle.
We hold our breaths as the door creaks open. The bodies of the drones are right where we left them. We look at each other as we push the end of the prod onto each drone's neck. I nod, and we both pull our trigger. The bodies of the drones convulse and shake under the electric shock. Two burn marks from the split end of the prods brand their necks.
Both drones gasp for air in unison, scaring 13 and me back into the bigger room. The drones' eyes shoot open, and when they see us, they stampede out. They knock me to the ground and push 13 against the wall. They turn the corner and run out of the room and into the hallway. I look at 13. That is not what we were expecting.
“We can't let them get back to the stadium!” I jump to my feet and run after them. 13 chases close behind.
CHAPTER IX
We run out toward the hallway, where I see one of the drones making his way back toward us. He made a wrong turn and hit a dead end.
“Get him. I'll find the other one,” I yell at 13.
He turns and corners the drone as I head down the stairs. When I reach the outside of the building, I spot the drone heading toward the other side of the neighborhood. It's away from the stadium, and I’m grateful, because I may not have been able to catch up to him. The scientists built us with the same speed, and his head start would have kept him at a distance.
I speed toward him, taking any shortcut I can to try to bridge the distance between us. It cuts some feet, but at this rate, it might take hours. Ahead, the drone sprints around a corner between two buildings, and I lose sight of him for a few moments. When I reach the alley between the buildings, I spot the drone crouched against the wall, his head between his knees. I approach with caution to make sure he doesn't scatter off again.
“What did you do to me?” he garbles through tears.
I step to within a couple of feet. “We opened your eyes. But you have to give it time.”
He looks up at me, wiping away the tears and pulling the skin of his cheeks down with his nails. Red lines cover his face from the self-inflicted scratches. “Why does it hurt so much?”
“The pain goes away.” I try to calm him. It looks like the internal turmoil is much stronger with him than it was with either 13 or myself. It must be a side effect from the liquid. I offer my hand to him. “You are going to feel a lot of new emotions. Some bad, but mostly good. You will learn about life, and you will finally live.”
The drone hesitates, unsure of whether he should trust me or not. Reassured by the compassion in my eyes, he takes my hand and lets me help him up to his feet. We walk back to the original building to join 13 and the other drone.
As I follow the drone in, I see that 13 has the other drone held at gunpoint against the wall. I put my hand on the rifle and push it away from the frightened drone. The one I walked in with joins his partner against the wall.
“Sit,” I order. The drones glide down to a comfortable position on the ground. 13 steps back and leans against the opposite wall.
One of the drones opens his mouth to speak, but I put my hand up to silence him. Over the next hour, I explain everything I can to them. I tell them how we were all created as carbon copies of each other, programmed to do what we're told, without objection, even if it means harming or killing ourselves. We are expendable. We eat, not because we are hungry, but because it keeps the machine running. We sleep, not because we are tired, but because it keeps us running at our peak.
I introduce them to the concept of emotions and the pain, anger, sadness, joy, and even love they might soon feel. Above all, I lay out what life is meant to be and how we are supposed to live. Woke and free.
The more I explain, the more their postures rise. Their eyes widen with hope and possibility. I keep them at this heightened level as I proceed with my speech. I tell them that they will need to remain in this neighborhood as they continue to change and that I will need their help as we bring more drones to turn.
They nod in agreement, and I dig into why we are turning the drones. I enlighten them to the Ragnarok and how the scientists intend to eradicate all humanity so twelve enhanced humans called Genesys can survive.
My heart knots up when I say this, because I'm betraying Atom, but in my mind, I know that I need to make them the enemy. No matter how complicit they are or are not in the scientists' plans.
“So, if you want to live, you must do as I say from now on.” I wrap up my speech. “Are we understood?”
“Yes, sir!” they both say in unison as they stand.
I shake both their hands, extending a symbolic olive branch. Though they need to heed my orders, I want them to know that they are still my equals.
13 steps in and shakes their hands as well. “Cozy up and get some rest. Talk to each other. I'll be back in the morning with provisions.”
I head out the door, and 13 catches up to me outside the entrance to the building. He has a skip in his step as we make our way back to the stadium.
“That was a great speech!” He slaps my back.
“You think? I thought I was a little too harsh and gave too much information right away.” I look at him.
“We don't have time for you to portion out the information. You did it the right way, and I don't know if you could tell, but they’re ready to go to war for you.” 13 smiles at me.
His words trigger flashes of the dreams I had, where I spoke in front of thousands of drones. My hands sweat with anxiety. I was so nervous giving that speech to those two drones. How am I supposed to lead thousands, hundreds, or even ten?
“I need to go talk to Paz and tell her that we succeeded.” I'm speaking to myself more than 13. I need to tell her about what we did, but I also need to talk to her about how I feel overwhelmed with everything expected of me. I'm not a leader.
“Good idea,” 13 responds. “Maybe she has more of the vials for you.”
I don't waste time when I get back to the stadium. I weave my way throug
h the corridors with a determined stride to keep up appearances and find Paz's office. I try the door, but the knob is locked. When I knock, I don't get an answer. She must not be in there. Without knowing when she might be back, I choose to wait by her door, making sure to stand at attention whenever anyone passes. I can at least make it appear that I was assigned to this post.
After a few minutes, the door opens from the inside. It startles me, but I use the sudden adrenaline to turn in to the door. I catch myself before I blurt out a word as I find myself face to face with Erin.
“Hello, 80.” Her harsh tone almost makes me cringe.
I need to be careful around her. She wasn't welcoming on the trip from the compound, and she was very suspicious of what 13 and I were doing on patrol. “Hello.”
“Where is your buddy?” She looks around me.
“I don't know,” I spit out a little too hard, causing her to step back.
She steps back into my face. “What do you do around here? What are you up to?”
“He's here for an appointment,” Paz interjects. She steps behind Erin, doubling her in size.
Though I may not intimidate her, Erin cowers at any movement or sound coming from Paz. Erin pushes by me, scowling as she heads off down the hallway.
“Sorry about that,” I say.
“Don't mind her. She's harmless.” Paz invites me in and shuts the door behind me. “What news have you got for me?”
“We did it!” I exclaim as I grab a protein pouch and take a seat. I'm making myself too cordial, but I've earned the excitement.
“Really? What were they like? What happened?” She sits on the corner of her desk, wanting to keep herself close to me to take in every detail, which I oblige.
I tell her about making the drones drink the liquid in the vials and how we locked them in a bathroom overnight. Then I recount how they burst out in a panic and how we had to track them down before I was able to explain things to them.
“That would make sense. Their system has gone into shock, and they are in survival mode.” She adjusts herself on her desk, taking a more comfortable position. “When faced with danger, a human will experience one of three reactions: fight, flight, or freeze. When we designed the drones, we blocked the neurological triggers for the flight and freeze responses so that you all would continue to fight. This catalepsy must remove those blocks along with other walls we put up.”
I know she is trying to explain things to me, but she also seems to be lecturing herself on her hypothesis. I lean in. “Will they all try to run?”
“No. Some will stay still and won't know what to do.” She walks around to her side of the desk and pulls out her tablet. “Keep me informed of any changes or anything that seems wrong as you continue to turn them.”
“I will.” I stand, insecure about asking her about my anxiety.
She looks at me and smiles. She can tell that something is bothering me. “Spit it out.”
I'm not sure what to say or how to say what I'm feeling, so I let my gut take over. “I'm afraid to lead them. I can't do it.”
“Of course you can. Look at how far you've already come.” Her tone softens. There is a warmness to it that puts me at ease. “It is okay to feel scared and to doubt yourself. It means that you care about the outcome. You care about those you are leading, and that is what makes you a great leader.”
I smile at her. Her caring nature is in direct contrast to Farouk's abrasiveness, but that is why they complement each other so well. “Thank you.”
“Listen, Farouk would not have put you in charge and risked everything if he didn't think you could do this. I have never seen him put such unwavering faith into anyone.” She smiles back at me. “Keep doing what you are doing and come back when you need more vials.”
I duck out of her office and head back to my room. Her pep talk has given me a renewed burst of energy, but my body is screaming for rest. Tomorrow 13 and I will turn two more drones.
Over the next couple of weeks, 13 and I turn a dozen more drones. The process gets easier with each subsequent pair. The drones we turn remain in the small neighborhood, keeping each other company and creating a support group. They help each other through the transition from being a slave to their preexisting programming to being free, alive, and human.
The drones have all accepted my leadership and have begun calling themselves 'Integers’—honoring the numbers we were all assigned, but realizing that we are now whole. They have also all embraced the burn scars on their necks as a unifying symbol of this change.
Since his high rank gives 13 more liberties at the stadium, he tends to stay behind and watch the small community. However, I have to make sure that I return to my room every night as my absence would be quite obvious. I also visit Paz every few days to get some more vials or an encouraging pep talk. As the number of drones we've turned has increased, so has the paranoia that Lucie will discover me. That still hasn't stopped me from taking detours through the city on most nights to steal some time with KJ.
I run around the walled-off part of the city that encloses the Cabras and meet KJ at the entrance to a building on the wall's furthest corner. Each time we meet, our first kiss lasts longer than the previous. It’s a pattern I am not willing to break any time soon.
The last few nights, we've been picking the tallest building we haven't explored and climb to the highest floor possible. If it's not the roof, we find a spot by one of the windows and look out at the sky as we lay and hold each other. We talk about everything from the compound and the Genesys to her father and her past.
Tonight, we find a building about a mile away from where we met and begin our climb to the top. Subtle noises keep me looking back and give me a suspicious feeling that someone is following us. A sense that started when we left the meeting place.
After climbing nine floors up, we reach a gap in the staircase that is too far and too dangerous to continue. The buildings in this city are in worse shape than those outside of the compound in Egypt.
We explore this floor's hallways until we find an unlocked door to a room with a big window in it. The dust coating in this room isn't as bad as some of the others we have been in, but it still causes KJ to sneeze. It's a small, high-pitched sound that makes me laugh every time. Sometimes she does it on purpose to make me laugh.
I take a seat next to the window, leaning my back against the wall behind me. KJ cozies up into my shoulder. She grabs my left hand and holds it tight while my other hand runs through her silk hair.
Our conversation teeters between topics and settles on plans to escape the city together. We talk about where we would run off to and how we could survive.
“Don't leave me,” a soft voice whispers from the dark hallway.
KJ and I startle to our feet. I stand in front of KJ to keep myself between her and the threat.
“Who is there?” I assert with dominance.
From the shadows, a small girl appears, her hair as light as KJ's, and a mix of tears and fear in her eyes.
“Pocket!” KJ runs over to her. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you. I'm sorry.” She bursts into tears. My instincts were right about someone following us. I'm happy that it was her and that she didn't hurt herself.
“Does Mom know you're here? We need to get you back. It's so late.” KJ rattles off.
“Can I stay with you guys for five minutes, please?” Pocket pleads. The softness in her eyes makes me want to say yes to any request she makes.
“I think that's okay,” I speak up, though the look KJ gives me tells me that I shouldn't have.
KJ grabs Pocket by the hand and walks over to me. “Five minutes.”
I take a seat back on the floor, and KJ sits right back in the same spot she was before. Wisps of her hair tickle my arm. Pocket takes a cue from KJ and curls herself under my other arm. She looks up at me and smiles. I smile back.
We sit in silence as the five minutes turn to twenty, and the slight hum coming from Po
cket tells me she's fallen asleep.
KJ looks up at me. “I should get her back.”
She stands, and I follow with Pocket cradled in my arms. “Let me help.”
KJ doesn't respond. She makes the long journey down the stairs as I follow behind, carrying her younger copy. We walk to within a hundred feet from her house, and stop.
“I can carry her from here.” KJ puts her arms under Pocket and kisses me before taking her away. “I can't risk my mom seeing you.”
“I know,” I respond, making sure that she has a firm grip on her sister.
“I love you.” She turns and walks to her house.
“What?” I'm dumbfounded. Confused by what she said, why she said it, and what it means. What I do know is that every inch of my skin has flushed red and is covered with bumps. I overheat, and my palms start to sweat. My body shivers with excitement. I want to scream it back at her, but she's too far away now to hear it.
I watch her disappear into her house, and then I set off, processing the words she said to me. For the next few hours, I weave through the city, exploring areas I have not yet seen. I see few outsiders along my trek, and those I do, pay me no mind. When my eyes stay closed longer than I can keep them open, I head back to the stadium.
The early morning sun stings my eyes as it rises behind the stadium. The few rays that hit my skin warm my otherwise cool body. The large structure before me only amplifies the desire to be back in KJ's arms. I should take her and run off, away from all this. She and I could be together with no responsibility to anyone but ourselves.
“80!” a familiar voice screams, standing me to attention. I turn and recognize the large silhouette as Farouk. His size and shape are unmistakable. The second silhouette is much smaller and just as recognizable.
“Get him to my office,” Lucie demands of Farouk before she storms off.
CHAPTER X
Farouk's eyes tell me everything I need to know. I've let him down, and I am in serious trouble. His big hand holds me back, letting some distance form between Lucie and ourselves.