Children of Gravity
Page 26
“Why should I trust you?” Alessa stated.
“This does not matter. All that matters is that I extract your memories and present them to you. All that matters is that I lay your entire life out before you, show you the road ahead, then let you decide. Will you join the people of Ortus and help maintain Preed as the most powerful regime in the wasteland, or will you pass to the next life,” Mar said matter-of-factly, “It's not important whether or not you trust the memories that I show you, the choice will not alter.”
“Oh, God,” Alessa voiced. She watched a memory that Mar replayed, one of him sitting with Aloca in her office tower.
“Aloca,” Mar began, in the memory, “I know you very well, I can read you effortlessly. I know what you're going to do.”
“And you want to stop me?” Aloca asked.
Mar shook his head, “If you go through with this, if you speak out against UPC, they will destroy you. They'll make sure everyone you know suffers. I will have to escape. I understand your conviction, but if you really want to change UPC, you should stay here, here in your position of power.”
Aloca said, getting up from her desk, “You've been inside many minds, you've read thoughts from the cradle to the grave. Have you ever found anything else, something that goes beyond thought, something beneath?”
“A soul?” Mar answered, “I have seen defining moments in memory, terrible and beautiful ideas. Volumes of regrets and diary page scraps of clarity. I've seen men die gracefully. Witnessed men die with poetry floating in their minds. But I don't know if that's a soul. I think the concept of a soul is a disservice of the power of the human mind. Our minds are amazing places. Everything we know is there, everything we see and experience. Not everyone can get to it, to replay memories like I can, but everything is there and it creates us, it shapes us. I don't know if that's a soul.”
Aloca avoided the scene out of the window, the damage from the purge was still obvious, the buildings still smoldered. She said, “I feel like there's another person in me, a woman who can't remain quiet about what is happening to this place. I used to believe in conformity. It helped wasteland peoples get a better life. It eliminated poverty and want. Now there is this voice shouting at me.”
The memory drifted away. Alessa floated alone in her chamber, left in warm darkness.
Echoes of muffled screams kept Vorn awake. He and Sam were being held in an empty industrial tank. He could hear some of the other pacifists. Sam was slumped against the round wall, glassy-eyed and emotionally beaten. Vorn felt around in the low light for footholds, something to help him climb out. He found none.
“What can we do?” Sam asked to the floor.
Vorn sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Nothing, we can't do anything. These people don't seem need us for anything, and that's a bad thing.”
Vorn could hear crying coming from what he assumed was another tank. He said in a loud whisper, “Why won't they stay quiet?”
Sam shook her head in dismay.
Over the top of the tank was a metal grate. A warder walked over it slowly, peering down at Vorn though his dark goggles. The man kept his gaze for an uncomfortably long amount of time.
Vorn shrunk. He crouched down. The warder passed and Vorn cursed.
Not long before, Vorn had yelled out to his compatriots, trying to make sure everyone was alright. For his troubles, the warders sent electricity through the steel tank. Sam and Vorn were left convulsing in pain. Sam could tell that if they were any weaker, that jolt would have been enough to kill them. They learned to stay still and quiet quickly.
Hours passed and the grate was opened. Three warders positioned themselves by a rigging arm. They lowered a child down into the tank with cables. The child was Nanny, the girl the pacifists had found orphaned in the fringes. Sam rushed to her and helped her to the floor. She was freezing cold and half-awake. Fear paralyzed her. She sobbed in hyperventilating fits. Her clothes were soaking wet.
Vorn balled his fists and glared at the warders as they left and slammed the grate.
“No,” Sam said shortly, “They will shock the tank and it will kill her. You know they will.”
Vorn stayed still. He turned his focus to Nanny. He gave Sam his jacket to wrap around her, and they two of them held her between them. Sam opened her eyelids to check her pupils, she felt for her heartbeat and listened to her chest.
“After joining your group, I've felt so powerful. That I had the power to alter my path. Now, we are seeing the limits of the philosophy,” Vorn said, distressed.
“Not now, Vorn,” Sam replied.
“Then when? Our hours are few, in case you don't have the instincts to know that,” Vorn snapped back. “I could have stayed fat and full as a gun runner.”
Sam kept her head lowered and said, “Save it for your God. I don't care.”
Vorn grabbed her arm. “What kind of people would do this?” he asked as he gestured to Nanny.
Sam looked up at him and the look on her face set him quiet.
Vorn looked at Nanny, her breathing was shallow and erratic. “She's dying, isn't she?”
Sam held her tightly.
Dr. Epps entered Ortus' surgical theater. Meril, a few warders and a medical android watched over Eight, who was strapped to a gurney. Dr. Epps looked up to the android, it began installing surgical tools into its hands.
Meril said, “Everyone out.”
Dr. Epps remained as the warders left.
Meril didn't glance at him, but said, “The android doesn't need a nurse, Epps.”
Dr. Epps rubbed his arms and spoke nervously, “Who are these people, these pacifists?”
Meril humored him and answered, “They're more refuse washed up here. One has a past with Mar, and this one is a Delver, a shitty one, but Mar is still interested.”
“And the rest?” Dr. Epps asked.
“Weak. They'll probably shut down their bodies as soon as they get the choice.”
Eight began to awake. He heard voices, so he kept his eyes closed. His head pounded like it never had before. His every nerve ending stung.
Dr. Epps said, “Meril, if Revan cannot be helped, I realize that you have no reason to keep me around. Maybe I can be of use to you.”
Meril waved her hand at the android, pausing its actions. “Doctor, your life is not in danger. Even without Revan, we like the idea of having a man inside UPC.”
Epps looked at the android, who was preparing to install a breathing tube in Eight's throat. Dr. Epps swallowed uncomfortably. “And when is my turn?” he asked and gestured to the tube.
Meril smiled grimly. She reactivated the android.
Eight reached out to delve, as Alessa had instructed him, no matter how futile. He avoided Meril, as he had a clear memory of what had happened the last time. The nearest mind was Doctor Epps. Eight could see a few memories right on the surface, and he felt relieved that it was at least possible. The doctor was leading a double life, he was a wasteland medic who managed to infiltrate UPC. The next memories almost forced Eight's eyes open. He saw Revan Kore. Saw him huddled in a ball on a hoverjet flight. Eight attempted a deeper delve. He saw Revan in a position of power in UPC.
The medical android began injecting needles into Eight's arms. He winced internally. He didn't know if he was being sedated or not, so he threw caution to the wind and delved hard and fast, he wanted to grab as much as he could about the doctor before the drugs took him out.
Dr. Epps felt the headache come on like a bullet. He clutched his head.
Meril spun her gaze around, then back to Eight. She took his face in her hand and mockingly said, “Good morning.”
Eight opened his eyes and looked at the doctor. He kept delving. He tore into his thoughts as fast as he could. He saw everything that had led up to his trip to Ortus. He saw the deeply laid plans of Revan fall apart after he was conformed. He saw his early life as a ruster. He saw Dr. Epps and Meril in an earlier time, living in a wasteland settlement before the purge.
&nb
sp; Meril barked orders at the android. It began pumping more sedative into Eight.
The doctor hit the floor.
Eight felt himself slipping. He got everything he could from the doctor, then turned his attention to Meril. He knew he was passing out anyway, so Eight tried one more time to delve her protected mind. Instead of reading memories, he flooded her mind with Dr. Epps' memories. All of her past with him from decades prior flashed before her eyes. She wasn't prepared for the images and sounds she received against her will. In a few short moments, she relived the fond memories she had with him. Meril looked at the doctor as he lay on the floor in pain.
Eight said, as clearly as he could, “I know you care for this man. I've seen it. If you don't let me go, I will break his mind. I will kill him from the inside out. I can do it in an instant. I can do it well before the sedative stops me, and way before you put a bullet through my brain. Meril, order your android to give me a stimulant or I will take Doctor Epps with me.”
Meril shook her head violently. She pulled a gun out from her coat and held it to Eight's face. “You don't have the power,” she stated.
Eight's eyes narrowed. “I do. I will end him if you don't do what I say. Oh, god, I want it. You took all my friends. The people I swore to protect. I want it. I want to kill him and I want the bullet. You can have both, Meril. You can have both.”
Meril hesitated, she nodded to Eight. She made a gesture to the android and dropped down to help Dr. Epps. He rolled over, holding his forehead.
Eight felt a wave come over him as the sedative was negated. He said, “Undo these restraints.”
Meril did as he asked. She added, “Once you're out of this room you're on your own.”
Eight grimaced. He rubbed his wrists and got to his feet, which felt shaky. He backed out of the theater, opening the door a crack and spying down the hallway. He saw that it was clear and bolted.
Eight, spilling a trail of blood and limping along the corridor, looked for an open or unlocked door. His feet were bare, his skin freezing and wet. Eight found a set of double doors and breathed a short stutter when they opened automatically at his approach. He entered and was on a catwalk overlooking hundreds of warders. They were arranged on a warehouse floor in a spiral, with each warder's gas mask linked to the person in front of them.
Eight could sense a presence nearby. He could read that Makz was nearby, and that he was trying to communicate with him. Eight was able to decipher foggy images of Makz talking to Revan in a holding cell. Judging from the relative strength of the memory, Eight had a rough idea of were they were being held. He looked down into to the warder's floor and saw an exit.
He pulled himself back against the wall and crouched down. An alarm sounded through the building and the spiral of warders began to unravel. Eight clenched his fists and inched over to some shadows. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to clear his mind.
An image popped into his head, a memory of him threatening Makz who was locked in the hot box. Eight relived the moment when he was aching to take Makz's life. The anger seethed up and kept his mind occupied. It was not a memory that Eight conjured.
Mar stood at the end of the catwalk. He closed the doors and said, “It takes a strong will not to act on rage like that. You did well.”
Eight shot to his feet and backed up. “You want me, right? Let everyone go and I'll let you have all my memories.”
“I don't need permission,” Mar responded, “and I don't really need anything that you can offer. This person you are, this personality, it's going to have to be stripped down.”
Eight glared and held his ground when he hit a dead end. “There isn't much else in there, I promise you,” he said.
Mar nodded, “You'd think so. You'd think that we, having similar powers, wouldn't be able to keep secrets from ourselves. But we have. When I get you into Meridian, I'm going to dismantle you, particle by particle, and find what I want.”
“I was never conformed, I have no repressed or erased memories,” Eight said.
“Not memories, exactly. Your source code. We were built, designed in the Core. Our bodies are human, but our minds were engineered. We were intended to be the ultimate weapons in rooting out sedition. We were to interrogate citizens and find the enemies of UPC. No secrets could be kept from us. But the Core was dismantled, and we were lost in the confusion. I thought I was the only one left,” Mar said as he approached.
“If any of that means anything, you know more than I do. What do you want?” Eight asked. Eight began to shunt his memories off. Any memory that Mar could access, Eight tried to replace it with static.
Mar raised an eyebrow, “You are my brother in arms, a long-lost relative. We have to catch up. If there's a small chance that your mind holds something I can use, it's worth the trouble.”
Eight was working on buffering his mental defenses. He conjured images and sounds of static and concentrated on them. He took the new artificial memories and distributed them across his mind. Eight then began screaming in his head. He screamed impossibly loudly inside his mind and held the thought in reserve. The scream was intended to greet Mar if he tried to enter his memories again. Eight vowed that he would not be caught off guard as he had been with Meril.
“We were built well,” Mar said. “We were made to replace chaotic memories with proper, state approved memories. I believe that you've done this before.”
Eight let out a yelp as Kagan's memories, the recollections that Eight had stored away, were brought up and replayed in front of him. Eight felt the power that Kagan had inside his mind, the determination, the violence. He tried to force it out, to force Mar out.
“Now this man has potential. Eight, you can't stop this. I can feel your mind starving for release. You aren't strong enough, but it's no fault of your own. It took me a while to live up to my potential. It wasn't until Aloca found me in a conformity camp. Not only was I immune to the conforming technology, I destroyed more than one person's mind who tried to conform me. Aloca, your Alessa, helped me tap into that power,” Mar said as he turned his head slightly.
Eight's scream attack was piercing and steady, it was like a jet engine in Mar's ear. Eight held the attack as long as he could. In the mean-time, he shored up his defenses again, tucked Kagan's life experiences away, locked them up, and said, “Those aren't yours, either.”
“Eight,” Mar said calmly, “I would have preferred to do this in the chambers, but if you insist, we can end this right now. And if that doesn't happen, if you manage to block me, I will beat you to death with my hands.”
Eight took a deep breath and tried to delve Mar's mind. At first, it was like headbutting a wall. After a moment, Eight sunk in, detecting a mass of memories out of reach, as if behind glass.
Mar reached into Eight's mind and pulled out static. He delved deeper and dug around in his past like rifling through index cards. Mar pulled one out and activated it, causing the both of them to relive a moment in Eight's past when he was hospitalized during the purge. His body was weak and his spirits low. A shade of that memory manifested and Eight's defenses weakened. Mar said, “It's all there for the taking. You can't protect an entire lifetime, you're not smart enough.”
Eight got an idea. Eight decided that Mar was right, he wasn't smart enough, his brain didn't have the power. Eight began to sacrifice his memories. He began erasing his own mind. He took long blocks of memory, whole strings of experience, friends and lovers, happenings both traumatic and splendid, and erased them. He crumpled up and threw away the love letters, burned the photographs. Eight deleted the stars. With less to protect, the process was easier. Eight held his ground at great cost.
Mar watched this happen, he saw the memories break and fall away. He scrambled to grab ahold of some of them, but even if he had, they would have been useless. Eight removed them and therefore their impact on his life. Mar grinned in approval.
The back of Eight's head was heating up. His temples pounded. He could feel his nerves twitch and s
hudder. His heart beat uncomfortably fast.
“You're not going to leave much for me to destroy. But I admire your resoluteness,” Mar said.
Eight, breathing heavily and feeling light-headed, ignored his words and forced his consciousness headlong into the barriers holding Mar's thoughts.
Eight got a break when Mar came across one of Eight's memories that crippled him. Mar stumbled upon the moment when Eight delved Malek, at the moment of his death. Mar threw a hand to his head and hit the floor.
Eight ran as fast as he could down the catwalk. A warder ran toward him from the other end. Eight delved his memories before the warder could close the distance to him, finding a blank slate with a few simple commands. The warder's mind was clear of any real human memory. Eight implanted the same memory that had felled Mar, Malek leaving the world, and the warder paused and stumbled. Eight pulled both fists together and slammed them into the warder's chest as he ran by. The warder tumbled and Eight almost went with him. Eight yelled into the air as he grabbed the back of his head and stopped dead.
Mar showed Eight a memory that he had tried his whole life to keep locked up. Mar replayed everything in Eight's mind about Revan Kore, the only man he feared.
Eight was paralyzed. The memory was too strong for him.
“You should have deleted this one. But it was so strong that you didn't want to go near it. The heartache. Dear God, you feel like a child, don't you,” Mar said with sorrow as he walked over to Eight. He lifted him from the ground. Mar reached over to the warder on the catwalk next to him and pulled his gun out its holster. Mar continued, “Let it be your last memory.” Mar held Eight up by the neck with one hand, then shot him in the chest. Mar threw him off the catwalk. Eight landed with a thud on a spiral scratched into the floor.
Reset Button
Jenna pointed into a valley town. Preed was aglow in the early morning sun. Kagan rubbed his chin and looked down into the empty city streets.