80

by Aaron Denius

  When I reach Paz's door, I put my ear to the cold metal to try to listen inside. I don't want to interrupt if Farouk is in there with her. A part of me hopes he is still here so that I may see him once more. The metal might be too thick because I don't hear anything.

  I knock and stand with my hands clasped behind my back. After a couple of moments, the door opens, and I see Paz standing in the doorway. Her eyes are puffy and red.

  “Hi, 80.” She opens the door wider for me to step in. With her free hand, she wipes any new tears that sneak away from her eyes.

  Her room is large, with two beds. The bigger bed is empty, but I see wisps of blonde hair poking out from under the covers of the second bed. The rhythmic rise and fall of the blankets tell me that Pocket is sound asleep.

  The door clicks shut behind me, and I turn to see Paz standing lost and hurt, unable to speak. Though I'm sure she understands Farouk's reasoning, she's still heartbroken. I know that a conversation is the last thing that she wants to have right now.

  I step up to her and wrap my arms around her. My hands don't quite reach each other on her back, but I do my best to pull her in tight for comfort. Her head collapses onto my shoulder, and her tears soak through my shirt.

  Minutes pass, and I can feel her body getting limp in my arms. If I don't get her into her bed soon, she'll collapse in my arms.

  I walk her to the side of her large bed and pull back the bedding so that she can crawl in. After covering her with the blankets, I walk over to the bed Pocket is asleep in and sit back against the wall.

  My slight shaking of the bed steals Pocket away from sleep. A mumble escapes her mouth and her eyes eek open until she sees me. She smiles as she crawls from under the blanket, and curls into my armpit. I hold her until she falls back to sleep, and a few moments after, darkness overtakes me as well.

  I'm back in the city outside of the stadium in Nairobi. I look around and notice that the streets are clean. The rubble that littered the grounds around the fractured buildings is no longer there. The buildings themselves look mended, and the sky is clear of the heavy clouds that hung above the city.

  Down a long alley, a single figure approaches. It's KJ. Her sharp blue eyes rival that of the sky, and her smile shimmers like the glass on the metal buildings. She takes my hands when she reaches me and looks into my eyes.

  I take in her beauty once again. Ethereal and alive. My lips won't let me speak to her, and I see the struggle behind her eyes as she tries to communicate through her frozen smile. We are stuck, unable to utter the words we both long to say.

  The harder she tries, the more the skin on her face shakes. The vibration erases her nose, followed by her mouth. My head screams, but no sounds escape. I watch as the last part of her face disappears before me, her eyes, leaving a blank canvas behind.

  I search hard into the depths of my mind to try to remember her face, to try to bring it back, but it's gone. My memory of what her face looked like is gone.

  “80?” a small voice calls from outside my head.

  I leap through the darkness and open my eyes to see Pocket looking up to me. Her face reminds me of KJ, and I breathe a sigh of relief to know that I experienced a dream.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  I look down at the small human in my arms. Her pure innocence is a blanket of relief. She has suffered immeasurable loss, yet she's too young to understand it. She's too young to understand anything of this world.

  “I am.” I smile at her. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so.” She climbs off me and walks over to a small table next to a door to grab a protein pouch.

  The door next to the table opens and knocks Pocket back. Paz steps through with a towel on her head and looks around the door. “Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry.”

  Soft chirps of laughter call out from behind the door as Paz closes it and reveals Pocket with her face covered in the orange liquid from the protein pouch. The door must have forced her to squeeze it all over herself. Paz and I join in on the laughter, and after a few minutes, we settle down, and Paz sets the girl down on her bed to clean her off.

  I stand to join them by the bigger bed. Paz tosses the dirty towel into the bathroom and turns to me. “Thank you for being here last night, 80. Your presence made me realize that I'm not alone.”

  “I'm here too,” Pocket sputters out with a hint of jealousy.

  “I know you are, sweetie.” Paz smiles at her. “Us girls are going to stay together.”

  It's great to see that Pocket has warmed up to her so well. Paz will do a better job of caring for her, especially with all the responsibility that Farouk dumped on me.

  As if reading my mind, Paz grabs my shoulder. “I know the burden Farouk has left you with, but you can do this.”

  “He said you'd be able to give me information,” I respond, my heart warmed by her encouragement.

  “I do, but there is someone who is better served to help you that way.” She walks me toward the door. “Go back down the hallway and make your first left. The door to your immediate left will be a scientist that will have all the information you need. Her name is Brianna, and I told her yesterday to expect you to come by at some point.”

  “Okay.” I each for the door handle, but Pocket runs over and throws her arms around my legs.

  “Do you have to go?”

  “Yes, but I'll come back to visit again.” I pat the top of her head.

  “Like a lot, a lot.” She smiles up at me as she lets go.

  “A lot, a lot.” I smile back at her and then look up to Paz.

  She grabs the door handle from me and pulls it open. “Door is always open for you. Come whenever you want.”

  I step through and head down the hallway toward Brianna's room. I find the appropriate door and knock. After a few long moments, I try again. I'm about to walk away when the click of the door turns me around. Standing at the door is a tall woman with a youthful face. Her glasses cover half of her face, and her hair is as red as blood.

  “So, you're that drone.” She looks me over.

  “80,” I snap back.

  She looks down both directions of the hallway to ensure no one can see us and then steps back into her room. I follow, and she locks the door behind us. Her room has one bed and a table, but it's hard to find anything else because of the mess covering every inch.

  “Just kick stuff out of the way,” she says as she climbs over to the table. She grabs a tablet from the table and turns on a monitor on the wall.

  “Paz said you might have some information for me.” I step as close to her table as I can.

  “Yes, yes. Both she and Farouk have spoken to me.” She opens up an image with many words on her tablet, and it shows up on the monitor. “Listen, because I need to go teach a class to some Genesys.”

  “Okay.” I stand back and look up at the screen.

  She digs in and abbreviates everything she knows. There are a group of scientists at this compound that want to stop the Ragnarok. They call themselves the Mutineers. They have been corresponding with each other in secret, and not long ago colluded with the outsiders to bring down the compound. It's why the last attack was the most effective to date. The Mutineers provided the outsiders with weapons and lab-made explosives to make the attacks more destructive.”

  Like Farouk, she believes in attacking everything but the Genesys. She stresses the importance of having them all alive if Rene triggers the Ragnarok.

  “Why not get rid of Rene?” I ask.

  “He has multiple backup plans in place if he were ever killed.” She looks at me as if I’m an idiot for asking that. “A lot of those plans are automated and would not be able to be reversed. With him still alive, we can at least monitor what his thoughts are toward the timing.”

  “That makes sense.” I try to think of what some of the automated failsafes are and if they could be shut off.

  Brianna stands and steps over her mess toward the door. “You need to go into the city and talk to a m
an named Petros. He leads all of the attacks from the city. You need to tell him we put you in charge of coordinating any of the attacks from now on.”

  “I'll do that now,” I state with confidence.

  “One last thing.” Brianna grabs my hand and places it on the screen of the tablet. “Say your name.”

  “What?” I look down at my hand on the tablet.

  “I've hacked into the system to be able to give you security clearances to all of the doors. Say your name.” She’s clearly frustrated.

  “80,” I stammer.

  “Close enough.” She taps on the screen, and a blue line scans my hand. When it finishes, she tosses the tablet on her bed. After opening her door, she checks both ways down the hallway once more. “Be careful in the city. They don't know that you are coming or who you are.”

  “Okay.” I step through the door.

  “Meet me here again tonight. We'll take more time to discuss plans.” She closes the door and heads down the longer part of the hallway.

  I turn in the opposite direction and see a door with a scanner. I want to try my new access. I place my hand on the scanner like I saw Farouk do and say my name. After a few seconds, the latch clicks, and I push through the metal door.

  The sun blinds me for a moment, but when my eyes adjust, I'm greeted with the field of tall plants. I didn't realize how close this area was to where Paz and Pocket are staying. I walk around the tall plants to the door I had walked through with Farouk the day before.

  I place my hand on the scanner and repeat my name. The door unlocks, and I step through. In front of the morning's low sun is the hill Farouk and I sat on. As much as I'd love to sit and look at the Nile River again, I need to go to the city and find Petros. The Nile can wait.

  I walk along the side of the compound, close enough to the wall that any drone that might be on patrol would have to lean over to see me. When I reach the corner, I time my sprint to when the drone guarding this area has looked away.

  My legs carry me as fast as they can to a pile of debris a hundred or so feet away. I catch my breath when I duck behind it and listen for any sign that drones may have spotted me. After a couple of moments of silence from the compound, I realize that they did not see me, so I stand and walk toward the closest building—or at least what's left of it.

  I lean against the battered wall and work my way toward the corner to look around and get a sense of the city's layout. When I had run in here with Atom, I didn't bother to learn the geography, so I need to take each step with caution as I look for Petros.

  My head leans to peer around the corner, and my forehead is met with the barrel of a riffle. I stand straight to see an outsider on the other end, ready to pull the trigger, and I immediately regret coming out here unarmed. As I'm about to swipe the gun away from my face and overpower the outsider to take away the rifle, a second gun jabs my back.

  “Any ill-advised moves, and I will shoot you,” the raspy voice behind me threatens.

  CHAPTER XVI

  “We should kill him,” the outsider in front of me suggests. He's much smaller than I am, and I can tell by how shaky his hands are that he isn't used to holding a weapon.

  The outsider behind me grabs my shoulder and pushes me against the wall of the dilapidated building. He's older with wrinkles on top of wrinkles and skin darker than night. “Hang on a minute. This one's different.”

  “I'm here to see Petros,” I say before the younger has time to convince the older one to get rid of me.

  “How do you know who Petros is?” the older one snaps back.

  “And what happened to your eye?” the younger outsider's trembling voice adds.

  “I'm not like the other drones. Brianna sent me.”

  The older man stares at me for what seems like ages. He studies my body, and when he tries to lift my patch, I pull my head back.

  “Should we take him to Petros?” the younger one asks.

  “He's going to want to hear what I have to tell him. We are on the same side.” I make one last-ditch effort to convince the two outsiders of my value.

  The older one looks me up and down once more and then pushes me forward. “You try anything funny, and I will shoot you.”

  “Understood,” I reply. I keep a watchful eye on my surroundings as we walk. A few other outsiders take note of me, and some come up to join the other two as security detail.

  Up ahead, I spot the top of the pyramid keeping a watchful eye on me. It looks more ominous than I remember—a building that has stood the test of time. We make a right turn, and I notice an area that looks familiar. This is where I had seen Atom struggling against the outsiders when I had returned from grabbing those pieces of chicken. I'm pretty sure the building to my right is the one we sped up to escape death.

  The outsiders guide me to the building opposite that one. It's one of the few buildings that still looks well put together. We enter through an opening that used to hold a double door, and head to the back where wooden tables are organized in rows and paper, actual paper, is scattered on top of each one. I am so mesmerized by all of the natural and decomposable material that I almost miss the giant of a man looking over a large chunk of paper stuck to that back wall.

  “Petros!” the older outsider shouts. He and the other outsiders seem content to stay where they are.

  When Petros turns, I understand why they all fear him. His mass makes Farouk look like a child. Muscles ripple beneath his entire body, and scars cover each inch of his skin. He looks as though he fought every building in this city and won.

  “What?” His deep voice echoes. He disregards me as an inconvenience. “Kill him.”

  “Brianna sent me,” I speak up.

  This piques his interest, and he pushes multiple wooden tables out of his way to walk straight at me. He takes his right hand and wraps it around my neck. His hand is as large as my head. His grip tightens, and I know, without a doubt in my mind, that I would lose any attempt to free myself.

  “Why would she send you?” He lifts me to take a better look.

  My toes are the only things holding on to the ground. Oxygen struggles to reach my lungs, so I pick my words carefully. “To stop the Ragnarok.”

  He drops me, and I fall to my knees. He returns to the wall with the giant paper on it, yelling back at the other outsiders by the entrance. “Keep your guns pointed at him.”

  I take that as my cue to join him at the back wall. After taking a deep breath, I stand and head toward the rear. I let my hands drag on the tables’ wood and some of the papers. The softness of each sheet feels like warm skin. “Where did you get the paper?”

  “Brianna brought it to us from the compound.” He seems to be warming up to me, most likely because of his confidence that I would not be able to leave this building alive if I tried to do anything he didn't like. He anticipates my next question. “We found the tables in the basement of one of the older buildings. These were the only ones still in useable shape.”

  I join him at the wall and see that the massive piece of paper stuck to it has an aerial diagram of the compound on it. I'm mesmerized by it. The map looks hand-drawn and includes details of each building's wings and rooms at the compound.

  “What walls have not been rebuilt yet?” he asks as he dips his finger in a cup of a dark chalk-like powder.

  I point to the three areas that are still more rubble than walls. “This one should be fixed up by tomorrow. The other two will take longer.”

  Petros puts an 'X' over the wall I said was almost built using the dark powder. He sets the cup down and wipes the powder on his pants. He leans back and sits on the table; it looks like it's struggling to hold him up. He looks at the patch on my eye. “Speak.”

  His gaze does not sway from my battle wound, and I hope it earns his respect. Or at least his trust. “I was left in charge of the Mutineers and the resistance at the compound. Brianna told me to come and speak with you so that we can coordinate any future attacks to make them more effective.�
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  “Hmm.” He contemplates my authority, then looks around at the other outsiders, keeping his posture large to convey to them that he's still in charge. “I guess it wouldn't hurt having one of the trained clones giving us intel.”

  I tread carefully, keeping up appearances and not letting him feel like I'm taking over. “I will have a better sense of the strengths and weaknesses of the compound from the inside. I'll also know when and where to attack. We have maybe one more chance to try to stop them before they eradicate every last one of you?”

  “How do you know that?” the older outsider that led me here yells from the door.

  “I saw it happen in Nairobi, where they built one of the bunkers for the Genesys,” I answer, loud enough for all to hear.

  “Why are you doing this? What makes you so different from the other clones?” Petros grabs my arm, ready to break it off if he doesn't like my answer.

  “Because I was shot in the eye. I saw death embrace me, but I broke free and learned to want to live.” I look down at his hand.

  He releases it and walks back to the wall. “So, what do you suggest, clone?”

  “80,” I correct as I walk to the wall and join him. I look over the drawing of the compound and focus on the area behind the barracks that was laid with concrete and fenced in. “What does that say?”

  Petros stares at me. “You can't read?”

  “They never taught us,” I respond. “They saw it as a waste of time since we were engineered to serve one function. Protect.”

  “It says hangar, but we aren't sure what's in there.” He leans in to get a closer look.

  I think for a moment, and it clicks. That must hold whatever the Genesys will use to escape. “I think I know.”

  “So, what is it?” Petros is becoming more impatient.

  “Our target,” I shout back as I weave my way to the door and then push through the outsiders. “I'll send more information back soon. Just make sure you are all ready to attack. This needs to happen soon while their guards and defenses are down.”