by Aaron Denius
I see a blur up ahead that tells me the other Fly made it out, but right now, I can't be out there. I look down at Pocket and realize that I need to be where she is. Inside. Alone. Sad. Angry. In Pain.
The sounds of the Integers sitting around me fade to a muted garble, and I close my eyes. I try to clear my thoughts and just be, but the image of the falling building and KJ's corpse keeps flashing in the darkness of my eyes. I give in to it and let the tears come.
I rest my head on the side of the window, feeling the rhythm of Pocket's breathing in my arms as she sleeps. Moments later, my rhythm falls in sync, and I too fall into darkness.
My body shakes as I gasp for air. I'm not sure how long I've been asleep, but a thought jolted me awake. I pull Pocket closer, and I look around. I don't see what I'm looking for, so I turn to 13. “Where is Farouk?”
CHAPTER XIV
None of the others on the Fly can give me a definitive answer. All they are able to tell me is that he was on one of the other aircraft. They aren’t confident if it’s the one that's soaring ahead of us or if it was the one that lies in a charred mess, feet away from where I left KJ.
I look down at Pocket in my arms. She is the spitting image of her sister. I will never be able to look at her and not think of KJ—a constant reminder that I failed her. I let her, Martha, and her other sister die. I will do right by her. Pocket will live to see old age. I will see to it myself.
Pocket has slept most of the way. The occasional bump in the flight wakes her, but the tears that follow send her back to sleep. When my mind settles, I look her over for any injuries, but only find a few small scrapes. It’s nothing short of a miracle that the walls fall into a protective cocoon around her. Still, I'll have a scientist look her over and have her speak to Paz.
My breathing stops. Did Paz stay behind? Was she on the Fly with Farouk? Have I lost her too?
“How much longer until we get there?” I yell out to the front of the Fly.
“About an hour,” the pilot yells back. I don't recognize him, but I don't think he'd be transporting ten mutineer drones back to Egypt's compound if he wasn't on our side.
I lean my head against the window and look at the terrain I was in awe of when they first sent me away. Now, as my head rattles against the window, everything I see below me looks of despair. I didn't ask to do this. I've never wanted to do this. They thrust this leadership and responsibility upon me. For the first time, I understand Atom's dilemma. His struggle.
We were both indoctrinated and manipulated into our supposed destinies. We are puppets tied back-to-back, only able to see what is in front of us, told that what we see is the right way. The only way.
I'm excited to see Atom again, but it won't be the same. I'm different than the last time we saw each other, and I'm sure he is too. Still, the history is there. Maybe I'll be able to appeal to his senses. The scientists won’t be able to go through with the Ragnarok if their prized possession is against it.
The Fly begins to drop, and I brace myself for the return to Egypt. Once we break through the clouds, I see it; the pyramid looms large over the city, leading to the compound. The streets remind me of running through them with Atom and tasting chicken for the first time. A smile graces my face. Something I didn't think I would ever be capable of doing again.
As we approach the compound, I am shocked by the image before me. It looks like a recent attack has destroyed parts of it. A large number of drones are rebuilding the outer walls as more still patrol the grounds.
When the Fly lands in the open field inside the compound, I can see two familiar figures through the window. Farouk and Paz made it. A wave of relief overcomes me, and I can relax my body. I step off with Pocket in my arms, and the rest of the Integers exit behind me.
Farouk looks at me from a distance but then steps away when he spots the head of the compound, Dr. Anfang. He puts his arm around the older man and walks him off in the opposite direction. They laugh, but I can tell that he's trying to distract him.
Paz hustles over to me as fast as her body allows her, though she stops short of pulling Pocket from my arms. The look she gives me lets me know that other scientists should not see me holding a young outsider in my arms.
“Pocket.” I look down at her. She looks back at me with a mixture of innocence and fear. “I need to hand you over to someone else.”
Pocket responds by pulling herself tighter into my body.
“It's okay, sweetheart. I promise to protect you.” Paz's calming voice opens Pocket up a little as it did for me so many weeks before. Pocket turns her head to see Paz's loving arms reaching out for her. She turns and looks back at me for reassurance.
I smile at Pocket. “I will never let anything happen to you. Paz is a very good person. She's like my mom.”
Paz's eyes water as she looks at me, surprised and grateful for what I said. I smile at her as I pass Pocket into her arms. Paz looks down at the frightened girl. “You are going to stay with me, and 80 will come and visit you all the time.”
“Yes, I will.” I place my hand on the girl’s cheek, and she smiles at me. She wraps her arms around Paz and closes her eyes.
“Come see us tonight in the scientist's wing. You have more free reign here. No one will bother you,” Paz tells me as she rocks Pocket back and forth. Holding her seems natural to Paz.
“I will,” I respond and look around at the group of Integers gather a few feet around us.
“Take them to the barracks where the other drones are.” Paz looks at them and speaks loud enough for all of us to hear. “The quarters farthest to the back should be empty unless they have changed things since I was last here.”
She looks at me for the last instructions. “I trust you will make smart choices and lead them properly. Outsiders attacked this compound a few days ago, so they are grateful that you are all here as reinforcements. Remember that there are more of them than us here, 80. So know that anything out of the ordinary will be noticed and reported.”
“I understand, Mom.” I give her a smile and wink.
Paz blushes and turns away, Pocket already asleep in her arms. She heads in the same direction that Farouk led Dr. Anfang.
“So, what now, chief?” 13 ends his silence.
I turn to face about twenty Integers, all eager to be told what to do next. 13 most of all. He's probably the only one that spent any significant time here before. They shipped off the others within a day of being created, from the tube to battlefield, ready in a week.
After scanning for eavesdroppers, I check the Integers' necks in front of me for markings before I speak. “No one here knows that you all have been turned. So, you all must work to convince anyone who might be watching that you are a regular drone like all the others. Three to a room, and hold each other accountable. You stay in your quarters unless I say otherwise. Understood?”
“Yes.” They all speak in unison. The power of it scares me but also gives me a rush of adrenaline.
“Fall back. Two lines. 13, you are upfront with me.” I step toward the direction of the barracks, and all of the Integers fall in line.
“Impressive.” 13 bumps my shoulder.
I smile at him and step forward. Two clear lines of soldiers follow behind me. As we march through the barracks' center path, the drones that are outside stop to look at us. The game of Breekbal in the center field even stops. They all look at us.
“80?” 13 whispers. He's more concerned than I am.
“Not now,” I whisper back. They are less interested in the destruction of the recent attack than they are our appearances. We look different. We are faulty. Me with my eye patch and 13 with his hairless head and scar. However, the markings on the rest of the Integers' necks hopefully will not cause anyone to think twice.
When we reach our quarters, all but 13 and I disperse to find bunks. I hold off by the door as they run in, and 13 peels off to stand by me. He leans in. “So, what now, boss?”
I take in my surroundings to see
how much has changed. I'm relieved to see that aside from the debris and rubble from the recent attacks, not much else is different. “I need to find Farouk. You keep an eye on everyone here. Remind them that they need to keep up appearances and shouldn't talk to anyone but you and me.”
“Got it,” 13 answers.
I'm about to walk away when a thought crosses my head. 13 was one of the original drones. The first batch. The only one I have ever met of his kind and the only one left as far as I know. I look at him—his body is still fit, but battle-tested. “Do you remember anything about this place?”
He looks at me, perplexed. Thrown off by the unexpected question but also unsure of the answer. “I don't. Remember, we weren't programmed to have memories, especially long-term. At least not before we turned.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” I suppose that is a good thing. To not remember all the horrible things that have happened, that you've done.
We share a smile, and I walk away. My legs carry me back through the center field among the barracks. A few drones extend their looks, but most pay no attention. Though all the faces are replicas of one another, I don't recognize anyone from when I was here before. It amazes me that I could do that before, but the recognition came from more of an instinctual feeling than appearances. Besides, I remind myself, most of the drones that I fraternized with are, I'm sure, dead and replaced.
Once clear of the barracks, I find myself in the field where the Flyz landed. I'm not sure where to find Farouk, so I choose one of the blasted open walls and walk toward it.
“Well, look at you.” The voice startles me. It's old, but still, I jump back. “Settle down, 80.”
“Dr. Anfang?” I respond. He's aged twice as much as everyone else. His frail body begs for help, but I remember that he is the reason for the Ragnarok. He is why all of this is happening. I hold back the anger I have toward him, but I can't help to think about how killing him might put an end to his horrible plan.
Before I can think further on my actions, we are distracted by a doctor standing at the open wall. He's waving at Dr. Anfang to come over.
“Wonderful.” The doctor smiles and starts his slow trek to the opening. “Come 80, walk with me.”
I don't have a choice, so I oblige and shuffle my feet in pace with his.
“You are quite a fascinating specimen.” Dr. Anfang smiles at me. “I do wish we had more time to see how you'd develop. To perhaps create more like you and study you.”
“You have as much time as you want. It's your choice.” I press my luck.
He stops and looks me dead in the eye, studying my face and processing my words. Before any hopes of changing his mind grace mine, he laughs. “Incredible. Farouk was right. Your mental development has grown quite a bit. Come, there is someone I'm sure would like to see you.”
He rambles at a faster pace than before and climbs through the blown-out wall. I follow close behind. Machines decorate the room. As my eyes adjust to my new surroundings, I recognize the room. I am in the medical ward.
Dr. Anfang walks over to the doctor that waved at us from afar. I recognize him from when I recovered in here so many weeks ago. It's Dr. Peters. His sharp jaw and well-groomed hair are hard to forget. I can't quite make out their conversation, but I can tell that they are talking about the patient on the farthest table.
I step forward and see a familiar face lying on the same bed that I once did, with the same glass cover that I once had. It's Atom.
“What happened?” I rush to the hyperbaric table.
“He's fine.” Dr. Peters spits back.
Dr. Anfang mediates between us. “He's about to wake him up. 80, you should stay. I'm sure Atom would be delighted to see you.”
“Yes, sir,” I respond. I have missed Atom's friendship.
Dr. Peters and Dr. Anfang step outside the room, and I can see them through the glass exchanging a few choice words with each other. They settle after seeming to agree on something, and Dr. Anfang walks off as Dr. Peters reenters the room.
“Don't touch anything.” Dr. Peters orders.
I wasn't planning on it, but I sit back in a chair nonetheless. Dr. Peters taps various instructions on the glass, and it opens with a zhoosh. The fresh air hits Atom in the face. I remember that sensation.
“What happened?” Atom asks.
“You are good to go,” Dr. Peters responds.
“I thought you said it would be a couple of days?” Atom presses. I can tell he is as confused as I once was when I woke from the chamber.
“It was,” Dr. Peters says as he walks away.
“Trippy, isn't it? Almost like time doesn't exist in there,” I speak up with a big smile on my face.
He rolls over and looks at me. It takes him a second to register who I am. “80!”
I wink at him. “Hey, Atom.”
I let him collect himself, and then we head out of the medical ward through one of the holes left from the battle they had. The compound is teeming with action. Drones are patrolling and fixing up much of the damage. They must have been called to work since I've been here. I spot a small group of the Integers, and I hope they don't act out of the ordinary.
“This is crazy,” I say as I lead him next to a pile of rubble with bloodstains on parts of it.
“Yes, it is.” He looks around at all the damage. He must not have seen the extent of the destruction since he was recovering. “I'm guessing this is why they brought you back.”
“Yeah. We were pretty much done building the bunkers, and they said that they needed reinforcements here. They left a few of them back to finish up the work.” I'm lying, but I can tell that it's believable enough that he won't question it. I climb up one of the bigger piles of rubble and sit. For a brief moment, the mound of debris flashes a memory of KJ's lifeless body under the weight of concrete. I brush the image aside to focus on Atom, but the pain lingers a little longer.
He climbs up and sits next to me. “Where did they send you?”
“A place called Nairobi,” I say dismissively as I spot a familiar sight in the distance above the rubble of the city. The Great Pyramid. The sun screams its rays around the edges as the pyramid casts its darkness over the city. I think of all that is different between the two places. “It was even worse in Nairobi.”
“What was?” He asks as he shifts his body into a more comfortable position.
“The people, the outsiders. They were all living in filth and days from death. Most of them were either covered in sores or nothing but bones. Some, which they called Cabras, would be so malnourished and mentally gone that they'd try to eat you.” I picture every one of them as I speak. Most, if not all, have likely been killed by Lucie's cleanse.
“Are you serious? That sounds horrible. Did the outsiders attack in Nairobi as well?” He presses further.
I look off to the pyramid. I remember the last days I spent there and all the fighting that happened. If I tell Atom any of that, he will think that all outsiders are as evil as what he perceives the ones here to be. Again, I lie. “They couldn't. They were way too weak. Most of them wouldn't even move when we walked by. Some would try to attack us individually, but it was more because they had lost their mind from malnourishment.”
“Like the Cabras,” he says.
“Exactly.” I'm not sure of what else to add. It's nice to see Atom again, but I've grown in our time apart, and I'm not sure we can relate to each other as well anymore.
“I'm glad you're back, 80.” He breaks the silence and stands.
“Me too.” I smile. I want to talk to him about the Ragnarok. About not following through with the plans, but now is not the time. “I'll catch up with you later. You going to be up on the roof?”
“I'm not even sure if the roof is still there.” He returns the smile. “How about I meet you back over here?”
“Sounds like a plan.” I jump off the pile, and spot a group of Integers working on one of the exterior walls. I need to see why they aren't back at the barracks.
They spot me walking over and stand at attention when I arrive.
“Not here,” I murmur. I don't want anyone to know that they take orders from me. “Why are you guys out here?”
“Farouk told us to work on the walls,” the one with long hair, 93, responds.
I look all three of them over, realizing that we will never blend in. Each one of us has a hairstyle that is not the standard cut for drones. I never realized that as the Integers evolved in Badwater, they would all become so unkempt.
“Very well.” I toss the words to them as I head for the barracks. If Farouk had spoken to them, then he must have been over there looking for me.
When our quarters come into view, I spot Farouk's big frame talking to 13. It looks like a casual conversation, and Farouk's body language is relaxed. He's in a good mood. This calms the little nerves I had budding in my stomach.
“Let's walk.” Farouk steps away as I arrive.
He leads 13 and me around the rim of the compound. Beyond the barracks is a fenced-off concrete field. It's large with a long slit that splits the middle. I’m realizing that there are many areas of this compound that I never saw in the brief time I spent here.
As we walk, Farouk tells us that he spoke with Dr. Anfang about our leadership role regarding the Integers. He reiterates that we still needed to take a cautious approach and blend in as best we can because aside from him and Paz, only a few other scientists know who we are. If Dr. Anfang were ever to find out, he would have us all killed on the spot.
We pass around the back of the compound, near the scientist's quarters, and through a field of various plants. Farouk continues to advise us. He tells us to make the other Integers work as they would have throughout the compound, using them as recon units and noting any weaknesses in the compound.