*
A few minutes later, exactly as Kain had foretold, they came to a stop. The hallway they were in was identical to the dozen or so they had passed on their route, but something in it was unique in its nonconformity. Instead of the mass produced, soulless steel doors which littered the other corridors, this one had a door that was remarkably unusual. Hand-carved oak, with a bronze, spiralled doorknob and an engraved faceplate that bore stylized images of angels and gods, fighting above the planet's surface. The victorious angels were flying above the gods, who appeared to be falling towards the planet trailing flames. But that was not the most unsettling thing about the engraving. It was the angel's eyes: crimson and filled with hate, that made Barsch stop and shudder.
Behind that intricate, yet somehow unassuming door, was Kain's Father. The man who had saw fit to bring something like Kain into the world. The man who had sent his only daughter out into the dying, decaying world to see how long she would last. The man who had forced his children to fight each other until they bled. The man who had looked at humanity and wept for their hopelessness. The man -who had decided that the planet was better off without the human plague- had set into motion a plan which would cause the extinction of an entire species: homo sapiens.
While Barsch was still in the process of analysing all of the terrible things the madman had done, Kain stepped forward and knocked on the door.
After a moment, there was a response, “Enter, my creations.”
The voice on the other side of the door was muffled, but aside from that, it sounded human. In that instant, Barsch realised that the madman, while most probably a terrible and merciless human being, was still a man. Perhaps this did not have to end in bloodshed. Perhaps he could be reasoned with? Perhaps they could convince him to abort his misaligned plan once and for all? Although Barsch knew that such a scenario was highly unlikely, he still felt the need to cling to it. If there was a way out of this mess that did not involve violence, then he would eagerly pursue it.
And then the door swung open, and all hope of a peaceful solution died.
Beyond the strange door lay an equally strange room. Although it would not have been considered unusual in the past, the wood panelled, carpeted study was notably out of place in a future of cold, lifeless metal and empty plastic. Bookcases lined the walls, with a large, oak desk in the centre of the room. Upon it were a collection of monitors and machines, with a single, bronze bell occupying the dead centre. A plush, leather chair lay behind the desk, and for a moment, Barsch wondered where it's owner was.
“Ah! Welcome home, my daughter. I trust that your journey was an eventful one?”
The warm words had come from a figure standing beside one of the bookcases, who was standing with a file in hand. The man -the madman, if Ion and Terra were to be believed- looked remarkably ordinary, for one who had created an entirely new species and set in motion the events which could lead to the extinction of another. He was old, perhaps as old as Kingston, though he had not aged as gracefully as the former soldier and current hermit.
Age spots dotted his creased face, which lay between a bald scalp and a tufty, white beard. The madman's garments were as simple and ordinary as his features, consisting of a stained lab coat covering an equally stained blue shirt, which was tucked into a pair of nondescript grey trousers. Barsch had been expecting the madman to be many things, but an elderly man who could not even be bothered to keep his clothes clean was most definitely not one of them. It was hard to imagine that this doddering old man could be a threat to anyone, let alone the entire human race.
Perhaps Terra and Ion had been wrong? Maybe this man was not the destroyer of humanity, but a simple hermit? Or was the real madman hiding from them, and using this lackey as bait?
And then Barsch saw the man's eyes, and all traces of doubt were stripped from his mind. They were empty. Completely and utterly dead, with no spark of life or love. They were eyes that could watch the world burn, and not shed a single tear. By comparison, Alza's eyes looked almost over-emotional, with the threat of tears looming on the horizon. The madman -for that is who he was, without doubt- turned to face them, with his cold, lifeless eyes. They were light blue, like wintry sky, with flecks of violet haphazardly placed. Without meaning to, Barsch took a step back, as the full force of those emotionless eyes hit his fragile heart. Beside him, Kingston shivered visibly and Alza, a creature who did not know fear, took in a sharp breath.
“Kain, I hope you have treated our guests with all of the courtesy they deserve?” The man's monotonous voice had slightly more life than his dead eyes, but not by much. He had replaced the file into its carefully organized folder, which in turn was placed into a well-managed bookcase.
Kain took a step forward, the adoration on his face a sharp contrast to his earlier disdain. “Yes Father, I have carried out your order to the letter.”
“Good, very good. Now, I suppose I should introduce myself to our guests.” The old man began to move towards them, with a speed that defied belief. It was clear that nothing about this man could be taken at face value, from his cold, dead eyes to his youthful vigour. Once more, Barsch felt a pressing need to step back, but something told him that he couldn't, not this time. If he could not hold his ground against this living contradiction, then he would never forgive himself.
The madman stopped several feet short of Barsch and, without missing a beat, began to stare at him. His gaze was still cold, but there was something calculating about it as well, as if he were assessing how much of a threat Barsch could be to his plans. When he had finished with Barsch, he let his blue and violet eyes wash over Kingston and Maloch, giving them the same analytical gaze. When he had finished his assessment, he took a step forward and bowed in a fluid, controlled manner.
As he rose, he calmly said, “Welcome to my humble abode. My name is Doctor Alex Emmerfield, and I am the saviour of mankind.”
Barsch was stunned to hear him utter such a phrase without hesitation. He could see it in his lifeless eyes: the man truly believed that he was the salvation of the human race. For a good part of the journey, Barsch had believed that the madman's madness would be maniacal and uncontrolled, but what he saw before him was far worse. Dr Emmerfield's madness was not something that could be dealt with. It was not something that could be reasoned with. Quite simply, it was the worst kind of madness: he was sane.
However, unlike normal sanity, which is laced with optimism and hope, this sanity was cruel and bare, and relied almost entirely on logic. It was the kind of sanity which could look at the dying planet, identify the main cause of the destruction, and take steps to eliminate it. It made sense, and Barsch could almost feel himself start to think that maybe they had been wrong, and this sane man had been right. In that treacherous part of his brain, he could see the beginnings of the thought, which he knew would eventually grow into, “Maybe it would be better for the planet, if all of the humans ceased to exist?”
Back in reality, where the madman who was not mad existed, something was happening. Dr Emmerfield had extended his hand towards Kingston, in the universal sign of ‘welcome’. Kingston merely stared at the outstretched hand in response, but it was clear to Barsch that the old man was struggling to hold himself back. Kingston had seen it too: the madman's dead eyes, his youthful movements, and the clear-cut gleam of the truly insane. The tense standoff between the two old men -one loving and wise, the other genocidal and beyond sane- seemed to last for an age, although in reality the moment passed in seconds.
After it became clear that there would be no handshake forthcoming, Dr Emmerfield withdrew his hand. For an instant, as he drew back his hand, Barsch saw a sneer appear on the madman's face. It was a sneer he had only seen once before: on Kain. Without waiting to hear Barsch or Kingston's names, Dr Emmerfield moved once more. In a graceful movement, he reached out his hand to Alza, before placing it gently on her shoulder. Alza, in spite of everything she had said and done before, did not move away. Rather,
in a move that shocked Barsch to the point of gasping, she allowed the old man to draw her into a fatherly hug.
As they embraced, Dr Emmerfield quietly said, “It is so good to see you again, my daughter. I have missed you so very much. And now that you have returned to me, things can finally begin.” Alza just stood there, with a confused look on her face. For someone who could not even remember her father's name, having him embrace her the moment they were reunited was beyond her capacity to understand.
“What did you mean, things can finally begin?” asked Kingston, despite the fact that he already knew. However, Dr Emmerfield ignored him, just as Kain had before him. It was clear to them that for Dr Emmerfield, everyone else in the room had ceased to exist. His eyes, formerly morose and uncaring, had burst into life at the sight of Alza. Barsch could not decide which was worse: the insensate, frigid orbs or the maniacal, frantic spheres he now saw.
“Daughter, you must be tired from your long trip. Come with me, and I will see that you are properly cared for.” Dr Emmerfield had stepped back, leaving Alza looking more lost than he had ever seen her. From her bewildered stare to her awkward movements, it was obvious that she was unsure of how to react.
Dr Emmerfield, sensing that something was amiss, restated what he had said, in a slightly deeper voice, “ALZA00971, I'm sure you are famished. Come along now, and I will make you something nice to eat.” At the sound of her true name, Alza's expression changed completely.
Immediately, she snapped to attention, and said, “Yes, Father, I shall do as you command.” Without further hesitation, Alza began to move forward, towards the madman's beckoning arms. Barsch wanted to move, he wanted to shout out and make her stop, but his confidence had melted away under Dr Emmerfield's penetrating stare.
“Stop!” cried Kingston, “Where are you taking her?”
Dr Emmerfield, who had taken Alza by the arm and had begun walking towards the door, stopped. Immediately, a coolness descended upon the room, as the madman slowly turned back to face his accuser. There was a fire in his eyes that had not been there before, a burning, ravaging flame that would consume everything it perceived as a threat. Dr Emmerfield had used up all of his self-restraint in greeting these interlopers, and what was left was nothing but pure, unrelenting hatred for those who got in his way.
Nevertheless, something kept the fire at bay, as he said, “Did you not hear me earlier? I am taking her to her room, where I have a meal waiting for her. She is tired and hungry, and I am simply doing what any father would in this situation.”
Kingston, with a willpower that rivalled an immovable mountain, coolly replied, “Where are you really taking her?”
Once more, Kain's sneer appeared on the old man's face, but this time, it did not leave. Pulling Alza behind him, he spoke, with a voice that sent icicles shooting down Barsch's spine.
“Enough. I have had enough of this façade. Why should I have to speak to these archaic life forms? Soon, very soon, I will be rid of this human menace, and I will no longer have to put up with such degenerative drivel!” Dr Emmerfield, having realised that he had been thinking out loud, quickly stepped forward and pointed at Kingston's chest.
“Do not overstep your boundaries, sapien. This is my home, and these are my children. What I do with them are none of your business!”
After his outburst, Dr Emmerfield once more stopped to think, before continuing with, “Why are you here?”
“What?” said Kingston in surprise.
“Why are you in my house? For what reason did you come here? I have not seen another human being in more than two decades, so why are you awake?”
Suddenly, a strange, paranoid look stole over the madman's face. “Who sent you? Who sent you to interfere with my work? Was it those fools from the government? Or perhaps it was one of their pet scientists? The ones who came up with that goddamn plan!”
Finally, Barsch regained enough of his sense to re-join the conversation. “Are you talking about the Cryogenesis Plan?”
“Of course I am, you bloody fool! You humans... you inferior creatures... you killed your home! You dyed the skies black with smog and the ground red with blood... and yet when the time came for you to fess up and admit to your mistakes, you ran, like spineless cowards! Homo sapiens destroyed this world, and Homo Novus will rebuild it!”
Kingston, remembering what he had seen in the video diary, stepped forward and said, “And how exactly do you plan to do that? There are still over a hundred million humans alive today, and all you have are two children.”
A slow, gleeful smile began to form on the madman's face, as he gave his reply, “Yes, if I had tried this twenty years ago, my grand idea would never have come to fruition. But things have changed now.”
“The cryogenic pods...” Barsch said, as everything came together.
“Indeed. You humans, in your desire to escape from the disaster you caused, have placed yourselves in a most vulnerable position. Not a single drop of blood will be shed, in the rebellion that is to come. All it takes, to permanently remove the human plague from this planet, is a simple line of code. How fitting, don't you think, that your last hope for salvation will become your self-made destruction.”
“You were the one who altered the Global Release Code, weren't you?” Kingston looked at Maloch sharply, demanding an explanation with his eyes alone. “When we were in Revelation Station 52, I hacked into the global mainframe, and found a virus that had been programmed to manipulate the code in an unknown way. At the time, I thought that it was you. I was wrong.”
Dr Emmerfield gave a loud cackle, as his eyes darted around the room in glee. He was insane, Barsch had decided, and there was nothing any of them could do to change that. In another time and place, his efforts might have been called magnificent, for what was the death of a species, in exchange for the salvation of an entire planet? But in that time, and in that place, it was insanity.
“It was I. Those foolish humans, entrusting their lives to the very machines who had helped them to pollute this beautiful planet. My days as a genetic researcher, working on Project Seraphim, gave me all of the skills I needed to hack into the global mainframe and plant my little virus. On my command, it will activate, and forever seal the pod doors, trapping the humans inside until the end of time! Do not worry though, I am a saviour, not an evil man as you no doubt believe. The humans frozen inside will not be harmed, but rather... they will be preserved, so that my children will be able to see and observe their forefathers, and learn from their mistakes.”
“You are insane. Do you really think that your plan will work? You are using Alza and Kain for your own selfish reasons! What about their happiness? What about their dreams!” Barsch shouted, visibly shaking in anger.
Dr Emmerfield then turned to him, and with a look of utter incredulity, said, “Their happiness? Their dreams? I think... that you are the insane one here. I created them! I made them in my image! They are mine to do with as I please! Alza has served her purpose, as a scout and test for her model's viability. With the knowledge I extract from her, I will create a second generation, who will go on to spread across this befouled land! And, with their superior genetics and my leadership, we will accomplish things that humans could only dream of!”
“They are people too! Just because they were... created... does not make them any less real that you or I!” As he spoke, Barsch caught a glimpse of Alza, still standing obediently behind Dr Emmerfield. For an instant, he thought he saw something in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding, but it was gone before he could check.
“Tell me, boy, do you think puppeteers think of their puppets as real people? Or doll makers? Or... re-mechs? All of them were created for a purpose. It is the only reason for their existence! And if they cannot perform their duty, then they are faulty, and deserve to be destroyed,” At that, both Alza and Maloch flinched, “And if they complete their objectives, then there is no need for them to continue existing! Alza has served her purpose, and she has no q
ualms about being... dismantled... for the good of her unborn siblings, does she?”
Alza once again looked unsure of what to say, so Dr Emmerfield repeated his question, this time calling her by her true name.
“No Father, I have no objections. I do not live, so therefore my life is yours to take,” she replied, in a flat, monotone voice.
“You see? She has no problems with any of this. And now, I am growing weary of talking with out-dated life forms, about things that no longer matter. I will be taking Alza to a specially constructed pod, which will decode her memories and dismantle her physical body. And you will be removed from my sight.”
“I won't let you take her! I will protect her!” Barsch screamed, lunging towards Dr Emmerfield with a fury that surpassed anything he had ever felt before. However, before he had even covered half the distance, he felt something heavy slam into him. It was as if the air had suddenly decided to become solid, just for him. With a pained groan, he flew backwards, towards his astonished friends. Maloch, ever the quick-thinker, managed to catch him as he flew past, stopping him just short of the equally solid wall.
“You threatened my Father. I warned you not to threaten him, and yet you did it anyway. For that, you will pay in blood and tears.” Kain was shaking in barely contained anger, his crimson eyes glowing like two exploding suns.
“Kain, my son, wait.” At his father's call, Kain snapped to attention.
“Yes, Father?” he said, while his burning eyes bored holes into Barsch's chest.
“I want you to dispose of them, but not here. I would be very unhappy if you got blood and oil all over my clean study. So... take them to the reactor; it will make it much easier to clean up after you're finished.”
And then, with Kain bearing down upon them, Dr Emmerfield, the madman, left. He had taken Alza's arm in a firm grip, and was leading her towards the door when Barsch, his breath only just returning, said, “Alza... don't...go with... him. He... will kill... you. Please... don't go...”
Alza's face was wracked with pain and indecision, but, against her creator's voice, she could not disobey. “ALZA00971?” he said, and all traces of doubt disappeared from her face.
“Yes, Father, I hear and obey.”
And with that, they left.
“ALZA!” Barsch screamed at the closed, oak door. But she did not return, as he had hoped she would.
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