by B. Wulf
Jones started towards the door.
“No need to RSVP, we will see you if we see you. Your seats are reserved, front row, great view.”
“Great visibility for sniper fire?”
“Er…”
“I’m not the incredible hulk Agent Jones.”
“Er…”
“You may go.”
Agent Jones was almost running as he reached the sidewalk.
***
Frederick rode the lift to the roof of CANA. It was late and bad weather was approaching but he had a task to do. As he exited the lift he surveyed the rooftop. The pool was calm and the city was illuminated. On the far side sat Fletcher, legs dangling over the edge. Frederick silently stood beside him.
“Push me,” said Fletcher.
Frederick did not move.
“Speak!” shouted Fletcher as he stood up. “You spoke before.”
Frederick remained silent. A dove cooed from its perch.
“Okay then,” said Fletcher, “I will do it myself.”
Before he could step off the building he was wrenched back from the edge.
“Why not?” said Fletcher, shoving Frederick away.
“It would not kill you. We are not high enough.”
Fletcher laughed, bent his knees and struck Frederick in the stomach. Frederick skidded across the tiled roof. He then rose and resumed his silence.
“What do you want then?” said Fletcher.
“Sasha is waiting.”
“And I am expected to come running like his dog?”
“No. It is your choice. It has always been your choice.”
Fletcher stepped towards Frederick.
“It has never been my choice.”
He grabbed Frederick by the shoulders and drove him into the ground.
“Who are you?” said Fletcher.
Frederick just lay there.
“Who are you?” said Fletcher again.
“Who are you?” replied Frederick.
Fletcher laughed wildly and started punching Frederick’s chest.
“Funny guy aye.” He kept throwing punches.
Finally Frederick gripped Fletcher by the throat and stood. Fletcher’s feet dangled above the tiles.
Frederick spoke fast; aggressive and short-shifted. “You keep asking who I am Fletcher. You know who I am. I am you. We have forgotten who we were so that we can live with who we now are. We just used different methods. Stop whining and decide. Are you coming with me to see Sasha?”
Fletcher nodded.
***
Cole followed Frederick and the newly integrated Fletcher down the hall. He wasn’t happy with the new eventuality. Cole cursed himself for ‘poking around’, in Fletcher’s brain. He should have just stuck to the procedure and gotten it over with. Now after his initial episode, Fletcher seemed automated and monosyllabic. Not that it was Cole’s role to worry. He was only in charge of Fletcher’s recruitment; what ever happened after initial and final integration was none of his responsibility. As he followed the pair through CANA’s corridors he could not help noticing that Fletcher still walked with a slight limp. It was barely noticeable but definitely there. Somehow this observation lightened Cole’s mood. Fletcher was still in there somewhere. Frederick on the other hand… The man in Frederick had been absent for some time.
The trio ended up in the main CANA meeting room, facing Sasha who was seated like a silent sentinel at the head of a rectangular table. His cold metallic visage tracked them as they entered. Cole almost felt nauseous. He was the only flesh and blood human in the room.
Sasha spoke. “Secretary Cosworth has decided to pull the plug on CANA. We are being shut down. It is either that or be merged with a government agency and lose all authority.”
Cole stood at the opposite end of the table as he digested this news.
“How long have we got?”
“Till the end of the month. All Secretary Cosworth needs is the approval of the President.”
“We can just shift the company to another country,” said Cole as he sat down, “We have many research stations abroad. I’m sure any country we approach would be happy to host us.”
“Not possible,” replied Sasha. Frederick had taken his post at Sasha’s side while Fletcher stood on his own, away from the group. “The cost would be too great,” continued Sasha, “Seventy percent of our infrastructure and assets are situated in this very state. You can’t move buildings. Most of our leading scientists are American as well. They will jump ship if we move; Secretary Cosworth will see to it.”
“Then kill him.”
Everyone turned to Fletcher.
“Kill him and the Secretary will never get the Presidents approval.”
Sasha nodded, “Logically that is the next option. But someone else will just take his place. It will merely delay the inevitable.”
“Then do it publicly. Send a message.”
Cole was dumbfounded. “Logically Sasha? Logically? You can’t be serious! You realize your are considering assassinating the Secretary of Homeland Security of the United States of America!”
Fletcher shrugged. “Yup.”
“I expect your loyalty Cole.”
“Or what?” Cole was on his feet now. “You’ll kill me too?”
“You are like my son Cole. You know I would never…”
“Warm words from a cold man,” replied Cole.
“Get out of your idealistic play house, boy. We must become the least so that humanity might become great. Should we throw it all away? Everything that we have worked for? We can put an end to the wars, the genocides, all the senseless suffering and injustice of this failed world. All that it costs is the life of one man. One man to save billions Cole. Cole, it is necessary.”
“Yet you do not see it as evil?”
“It is for…”
“The greater good? Listen to yourself Sasha, how many dictators and tyrants have spoken those exact words?”
“CANA is meant for the people. No government should be able to use it like a street worker. Are you with us Cole?”
Cole closed his eyes. “Yes I am with you Sasha.” He sat back down. “I was always with you.”
Chapter 20
“Are you sure you want to do this Fletcher?”
“Yes I’m sure.”
Sasha nodded and turned to Cole. “Release a public statement that one of the private Synthetics not regulated by CANA has gone AWOL and is considered dangerous. CANA will not be held responsible for what is about to happen. You’re on your own Fletcher.”
Cole left the room to issue the statement.
“How will he get out?” asked Frederick.
“I have contacts in the air force,” said Sasha, “After the alarm has been raised a squadron of helicopters will land on the roof as if securing the area. When Fletcher is aboard we will leave behind one of the deactivated units left over from the investors. I will oversee this personally.”
“Won’t they still be able to tie CANA to the assassination?” asked Frederick.
“What evidence will they have? The charred remains of a Russian Billionaire who has no holdings whatsoever in the company. The same Russian Billionaire who, as of now, has been in contact with multiple terrorist organizations for the past decade. CANA will sail into this storm and emerge unscathed. It will go down in history as but another act of terrorism conducted by increasingly organized militant groups, bent on destabilizing the US Government. CANA will take a step back from the limelight and continue on unhindered and in peace.”
Fletcher clapped his hands, “Sounds like a plan. The Health and Medical Summit is in two days. The Secretary will almost definitely be attending and I have front row seats.”
Sasha shook his head, “No, as of now, a rogue Russian Billionaire has front row seats, and you Fletcher, were unable to attend because you are in Europe on CANA business. Several local news agencies and politicians will attest to this point in writing. There will be no loose ends.”
“You’re very good at this aren’t you Sasha,” said Fletcher.
Sasha went silent and stared at the desk in front of him.
“Well I had better be off then,” continued Fletcher, “I got a man to kill and a future to save.”
Sasha remained silent as the door shut softly behind Fletcher.
***
“He’s here.”
“Who’s here?”
“The tin man robot guy?”
“Is it the same one that trashed that Lamborghini?”
“Hell, I dunno, they all look alike. He’s sitting down at a table in the front row. Bloody massive aren’t they.”
Officer Sarah Watson watched the security feed in apprehension. She had a feeling that the seven-foot monstrosity occupying a good proportion of the screen was the same one she had had coffee with a month before. He had seemed harmless then, but her gut told her something was up.
“Notify Secretary Cosworth’s security team,” she ordered, “He may have to cancel his appearance.”
“What do we do about him?” said the other officer pointing at the display.
“Leave him for now. I’m gonna go talk to him.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah we go way back.”
***
“Fletcher? Is that you?”
The metallic figure at the table turned slowly to face her. It did not speak but just watched her with empty eyes.
“Who are you?”
“It’s Sarah, we had coffee. You left me at…”
“I don’t know a Sarah.”
“Well I’m sorry sir,” she said, “I must be mistaken.”
She turned to leave but then stopped mid-step, “So what is your name then?”
Fletcher paused; he didn’t know what to say.
“What’s going on here Fletcher? You do know…”
A crackle from her earpiece interrupted her.
“Secretary Cosworth gave him the all clear. On top of that we are not permitted to engage without direct orders from the Secretary.”
Sarah nodded in the direction of the camera.
“Sorry sir, I must have been mistaken. I had best be on my way then,” she said to Fletcher, “Enjoy the Summit sir.”
Fletcher relaxed and turned back to the stage. He was meant to be a rogue Russian Billionaire. Only the Secretary could know his identity and the Secretary wouldn’t be in a state to tell anyone soon. What were the chances of Sarah turning up? Sasha’s words played through his mind, ‘there can be no loose ends’.
***
The annual Washington Health and Medical Summit was set up so that local Hospitals, laboratories or clinics could show off in front of a bunch of organizations and individuals with lots of money to throw around. Getting a segment at the summit almost guaranteed funding for the lucky doctors. All they had to do was put on a show for the crowd, which would determine just how much funding they would get. The convention center was arrayed like an amphitheater with rows of tables on each step. Waiters navigated the aisles procuring whatever the patrons desired. At the moment most of them just chatted amongst themselves as a stuttering young scientist pleaded his case for the Radiology department of one of the local universities. Suddenly the chatter vanished. Officer Sarah Watson watched the stage as the young scientist rushed off and a more relaxed individual took his place.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. My name is Kevin Cosworth and as some of you may know, in my spare time I am the Secretary of Homeland Security for this great country, the United States of America.”
Amidst the thin laughter and scattered applause Sarah heard something that made her pulse race. It was the crash of a chair been thrust back and tumbling down the aisle.
“What’s the status of our metal guest?” she asked over radio.
“He’s gone, just disappeared. No… Wait… I see him. He’s heading around the side to get onto the stage. He must be going for the secretary. The snipers are ready, do we engage?”
“No, not yet. Get me the Secretary’s Head of Security. Why the hell are they just standing around? I’m going down there. I may be able to intercept him. He might listen to me.”
***
Sarah caught up to the synthetic in a deserted corridor that led backstage.
“Stop,” she shouted, while drawing her sidearm.
The synthetic turned.
Leveling her gun she said, “What are you doing out here?”
The synthetic shrugged, “I’m just trying to find the toilets.”
Sarah stood her ground. “Put your hands up,” she said, shaking visibly.
“You should run Sarah,” said the Synthetic, “Leave this place while you can. Run and hide, because when they find out you know that I am here they will come for you. There can be no loose ends.”
“I’m not gonna run Fletcher. You don’t want to do this.”
In the blink of an eye Fletcher dashed forward, disarmed her and held her by the vest.
“Run, because they are coming,” he said softly, before throwing her down the corridor.”
***
Secretary Cosworth stood at the microphone, apparently oblivious to the drama unfolding. A few people in the front row noticed him halt mid sentence and pull something from his ear. He appeared to be smiling. Not a polite ‘I’m making a speech smile’, but a genuine smile.
“And quite a few of you may be wondering, what am I doing up here talking to you about the limitless horizons of Prenatal care? And the answer to that is simple. These recent advances in Prenatal care have saved the life of a good friend of mine, and I would like for all of you to meet her. Might I welcome Washington’s very own miracle child, born almost three months after her mother’s tragic passing. Would you all give a big round of applause for Alana!”
Walking at a snail’s pace, with a toy dog clutched to her chest, a little girl shuffled out onto the stage. Behind her stood an old man and woman, looking on anxiously. She wore a tidy white dress with red trimmings and a pair of baby blue gumboots. She was lost behind the podium until the Secretary brought a stool for her to stand on. Her little head popped over the top and she stared wide-eyed at the applauding crowd. After peering suspiciously at them for a few moments she lifted up her toy dog so that it too could have a look at all the strange people.
The Secretary took a microphone from a stagehand and said, “That’s a lovely dog you have there, Alana. Does it have a name?”
“It’s not a dog, it’s a puppy.”
“Okay,” the Secretary smiled wide, “then does your puppy have a name?”
“Yes.”
Sprinkled laughter emanated from the crowd.
“And what is your puppy’s name?”
“Puppy.”
“Puppy?”
“Yes my puppy’s name is Puppy.”
“Well that is a very appropriate name. So Alana, how old are you?”
“I am three and nearly four. You can call me Lana if you want.”
“We thank you Lana, you can call me Kevin.”
“Okay Kevin.”
“Do you go to kindergarten Lana?”
“I go to Play Center.”
“Do you enjoy Play Center?”
“Yes I get to draw puppies and…”
The rest of her sentence was lost amidst the uniform inhalation of breath from the crowd. A few people screamed. Fletcher stood on stage-right, dwarfing the child before him, while the Secretary stood on stage-left, one hand in his pocket.
“Are you going to ask me questions too?” asked Lana, squinting at the hulking Fletcher who was illuminated by the spotlight. “Why are you all shiny?”
Fletcher did not reply. He just stared, motionless. The old woman behind Alana screamed, only to be quieted by a glance from the Secretary.
“Are you a robot? Can you fly?”
“No,” said Fletcher softly, “I cannot fly.”
It’s like locking your memories in a box. The only way to open the box is with the ap
propriate key.
“Are you broken? Why can’t you move?”
Fletcher got down to his knees, never dropping his gaze.
“Your eyes,” he said, “I remember your eyes.”
Lana hopped down from her pedestal and approached Fletcher.
“Who is your father?” he asked.
“I don’t know, he left,” she replied simply.
Fletcher appeared to slouch lower.
“And who is your mother?”
“My mum is up in heaven.”
“And what is her name?” whispered Fletcher.
“My mum’s name is Kate.”
Fletcher hung his head, as if looking at the floor. Tremors ran through the length of his body. He didn’t make a sound.
“Excuse me sir?”
Fletcher looked up to see Lana standing at his side.
“Would you like to hug Puppy? You might feel better.”
Fletcher steadied himself and sat cross-legged on the floor. Lana held out the toy dog.
“Thank you,” said Fletcher taking it with both hands.
Lana sat down next to him and rested her head on his arm.
“You’re very cold,” she said.
“Too cold?” asked Fletcher.
“No,” she replied, “Not too cold. What is your name?”
“You can call me Fletch.”
***
“I did some digging Fletcher.” Secretary Cosworth stood at Lana’s side. The crowd streamed out the exits, shepherded out by armor-clad soldiers. “It didn’t make sense; a kid like you becoming a thing like this. You had a bright future Fletcher.”
Fletcher rose to his feet and gingerly passed the toy dog back to Lana. She held his hand, apparently unafraid.
“But look Fletcher,” Secretary Cosworth pointed at Lana, “You still have a bright future. People care about you. You don’t have to cut yourself off. You don’t have to give up.”
Fletcher could not rip his gaze from the child at his side, from his child. “What must I do?” he asked.
“Come with us,” said the Secretary, “An armored convoy is waiting outside.”