The Individuality Gene

by G Sauvé

  The sentinels took advantage of Jonn’s directives to inject order into their ranks. Ignoring their fallen comrades, they march on, ordered and unafraid. They seem almost unaware of their surroundings. Dozens fall, torn to shreds by powerful explosions. I watch the carnage with a mixture of awe and disgust. Each sentinel that falls increases our odds of success, but is all of this violence truly necessary? Is there no way to resolve our differences peacefully? Can’t we—

  I’m interrupted by the sudden halt of the metallic army. They stand a hundred metres from the edge of the forest, immobile. Unsure how to react, the clones stop their assault.

  “What are they doing?” I ask.

  “Who cares?” says Jonn. “KEEP FIRING!”

  The ‘tals start flying once more, but only a few reach their mark before the sentinels retaliate. Raising their arms, they take careful aim and fire. Yellow light blossoms from their palms, forming glowing orbs that shoot forward with deadly accuracy.

  I stare, horrified, as dozens of soldiers fall. They are torn to shreds by the powerful blasts, sent back to the nothingness from whence they came. Normal humans would flee at the sight of such a massacre, but these are no mere humans. They are clones, trained to fight until their dying breath. And that is precisely what they do.

  Confusion reigns supreme. ‘Tals erupt from the treeline and soar high into the air before plummeting to an explosive end. Spheres of yellow energy explode from metallic palms and slam into flesh. Explosions of varying intensities shake the cavern. Blasts of energy light up the battlefield, turning what should be a horrific sight into an entrancing dance of violence and death. The occasional cry rises above the cacophony of blasts, but the deafening sound of explosions quickly drowns it out.

  Pain. Destruction. Death. War is a horrible beast that refuses to be tamed. It rips through all, unable to differentiate between friend and foe. All that stands in its way meets a bloody end.

  The battle stretches on, unquantifiable. Dozens have fallen on both sides. Hundreds. Each moment sees more good men fall. But for each clone that crumbles, another robot is defeated. Soon, victory will be ours. Soon, our enemies will be no more. Soon—

  A stray blast of energy slams into a nearby ‘tal reserve and the entire stack lights up in a massive blast of hot air and flames. The sheer force of the explosion sends me flying. I soar through the air and slam into a tree. I cry out in anguish as pain lights up my entire right side. I remain pinned for a moment before the blast of hot air releases me.

  I crumble, too stunned to notice the pain that grips my twisted limbs and bruised muscles. The acrid taste of blood fills my mouth. The scent of charred wood invades my nostrils. My hands fumble for solid ground, but all I sense is torn moss and wood splinters. My ears are useless. All I hear is a powerful buzzing sound. I attempt to focus my gaze, but the world is a blur.

  I remain trapped in this sensory overwhelm for what feels like an eternity before it becomes too much to handle, and I black out. I don’t know how long I remain in that colourless void, but my senses have been restored in full by the time I regain consciousness.

  The first thing I see is Kara’s face, hovering above mine.

  “Are you all right?” she asks.

  “I think.”

  My girlfriend offers me a hand. I take it, and she pulls me to my feet.

  “What happened?” I ask, but one look at my surroundings renders my question pointless. I stand at the edge of a large crater. Uprooted trees and stone fragments are scattered throughout. Human bodies lie here and there. Some are intact. Most aren’t.

  “Was it an accident?” I ask.

  “Doubtful,” says a familiar voice. I turn to find Jonn standing nearby. The left side of his face is bloodied, but he otherwise appears unharmed.

  “I disagree,” says Kara. “Sentinels are programmed to protect ‘tals. They wouldn’t willingly destroy them.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Kara hesitates, but only for a moment.

  “Yes,” she says. “I’m sure.”

  “You don’t sound sure.”

  “I am.”

  Jonn says something else, but I’m no longer listening. I focus on the battle that unfolds beyond the treeline. Of the hundreds of sentinels that once stood, a hundred or so now remain. The clones also suffered heavy casualties, but they still number in the hundreds. This, combined with the fact that all but a few of the ‘tal supply points remain intact bodes well for the success of our endeavour. Still, it’s not until the robot population drops into the double digits that I allow myself to believe victory is within our grasp. Of course, that’s the moment fate chooses to throw a wrench in the gears of our carefully laid-out plan.

  It begins simply enough, with a clone collapsing. It may not seem like a big deal, but given what I know about clones, it may well spell our doom. Ignoring the sound of my friends arguing, I hurry to the clone’s side and check his pulse.

  There is none. The clone is dead.

  I study the man’s body for injuries but find none.

  “What happened?” asks Kara. I turn to find her and Jonn approaching. “Is he dead?”

  I nod, too distraught to speak.

  “So?” says Jonn. “This is war. There are bound to be casualties.”

  “You’re right,” I admit. “The problem is, this man wasn’t shot. He wasn’t even injured.”

  “That’s impossible. Clones don’t just drop dead for no reason.”

  “Actually, they do.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I sigh. I don’t want to say it, but another clone crumbles, and I have no choice but to tell Jonn the truth.

  “The clones have reached their expiry date,” I say. “Soon, they will all be dead.”

  Memory 39

  O ur army is dying, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Every few seconds, another clone expires. The order in which they collapse appears random, but I can tell they’re perishing in the same order they were created.

  “Drowned!” swears Jonn. “Can’t we stop it?”

  Kara says nothing. Neither do I, though it’s for a different reason.

  It’s my fault. All of it.

  Had I not let Avalon trick me into believing she was my older self, the first individual would have survived, and humanity would have evolved. History would have unfolded as it was meant to, and the Kra’lors would never have taken control of Earth and enslaved the humans.

  Avalon isn’t the villain of this story. I am.

  While shocking, the revelation isn’t what hits me the hardest. I was so focused on resetting history to its intended path I failed to realize I was altering my core values in the process. How could I have thought creating an army of clones would make up for my misdeeds? I didn’t save the humans, I merely created more of them for the sentinels to slaughter.

  The more I think about it, the more I realize Avalon and I aren’t so different. She uses the death of her son to justify the atrocities she commits. I employ guilt and a twisted sense of righteousness. But in the end, we both manipulate people and situations to get what we want.

  Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them escape. My hands clench into fists as a wave of anger rises within me. I can’t decide who I’m more upset with—Avalon or me—but in the end, it matters little. A shift occurs, and in the blink of an eye, I become a new person. The selfish young man who manipulates others into fighting his battles is dead. In his place now stands a man who would do everything in his power to set things right. Though brave, this new Will is also foolish. So foolish, in fact, that he does something that’s both incredibly brave and absurdly foolish.

  I leap out of cover, determined to put an end to the battle. A fizzling sphere of energy flies past my head, but I ignore it and rush forward. At least I would were it not for the powerful hands that grab hold of me and drag me back into cover.

  “What the drowned are you doing?” demands Jonn. I struggle to break free, but his grip is too powerf
ul.

  “I have to stop the battle,” I say, my voice strained and high-pitched.

  “Why?” asks Kara.

  “Don’t you see? It’s the only way.”

  “I don’t understand. What are you trying to accomplish?”

  “I don’t want to become her,” I say, growing more hysterical by the second.

  “Who?”

  “Avalon. We’re the same. We use people. We’re selfish. We’re obsessed with the past. We’re—”

  I’m interrupted mid-speech by a burning sensation in my left cheek. It takes a moment before I understand what happened.

  Kara slapped me.

  I stare at her, unsure how to react. She isn’t the type to use violence. The fact that she did tells me she isn’t messing around.

  “You’re nothing like Avalon,” she says. “She’s selfish, cruel, and obsessed with altering the past. You’re kind, courageous, and passionate about protecting those less fortunate than you.”

  I never thought of myself as such, but Kara is skilled at seeing the best in people. If she says I’m a good person, perhaps I’m not as far gone as I thought.

  I calm down. Though part of me is still convinced putting an end to the battle is the only way to make up for my manipulations, I’m willing to consider an alternate course of action.

  “You can let go,” I say.

  “Are you sure?” asks Jonn.

  I nod.

  My friend hesitates but releases me. I consider bolting, but the prospect of running onto the battlefield no longer appeals to me. Odds are, doing so will result in my rapid and painful death. Even if I somehow survive and succeed in putting an end to the battle, what next? The clones are doomed, no matter what I do. Once they fall, the humans will pay for our mistake. It seems hopeless, but I refuse to give up.

  “Any ideas?” I ask.

  “We do nothing,” says Jonn.

  At first, I think he’s kidding, but then I remember he’s not the kidding type.

  “I don’t understand,” I admit.

  Jonn snorts. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  Kara glares at him.

  “Look around,” she tells me. “What do you see?”

  I scan my surroundings, but the battlefield is unchanged. The sentinels advance, blasts of yellow energy erupting from their open palms. Their numbers have dwindled, but the sheer deadliness of the metallic humanoids bodes ill for the success of our plan. Or so I think until I turn my gaze to the forest.

  The clones. They’re still alive. Of the five hundred or so that once stood, less than a hundred now remain, but the fact that they’re alive fills me with hope. But there’s also a certain amount of confusion.

  “I don’t understand,” I admit as I watch the remaining clones pummel the robots with ‘tals. “How is this possible?”

  “It took nearly a full week to create the clones, remember?”

  I nod.

  “Not all the clones have the same expiry date,” explains Kara. “Those who perished were born on the first day. All who remain belong to subsequent generations.”

  It takes me a while to grasp the implications of such a revelation.

  “Are you saying…” I begin, but my voice trails off.

  Kara nods.

  “The clones that remain are safe. They won’t expire until tomorrow at the earliest.”

  “And by then, it won’t matter,” says Jonn.

  Kara shoots him another angry look, but he ignores it.

  No one speaks for a while. We just stand there and watch as the battle rages on. Every few seconds, a soldier falls. Sometimes it’s a clone. Other times it’s a sentinel. The humans have the advantage of numbers, but the robots are far more resistant. It takes up to five direct hits before their bodies are damaged beyond repair. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said about humans. A single hit is all it takes to kill a clone. Not to mention the fact that the stacks of ‘tals are basically bombs waiting to go off. Every once in a while, one of them gets hit and explodes, killing nearly a dozen clones.

  “Should we help them?” I ask.

  Jonn shakes his head.

  “It’s too risky. The clones are expendable. We’re not.”

  I glance at Kara, but she says nothing. She stares at the carnage, a pained expression plastered across her face.

  We stand in silence and watch the battle. The sentinel force drops quickly. Soon, less than a dozen remain. Victory is close at hand. Or so I think until the downpour of ros’tal crystals ceases. I wait for it to resume, but it doesn’t.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Why did they stop?”

  Jonn shrugs. I glance at Kara, but she refuses to meet my gaze.

  “The supply of ‘tals is used up,” she says. “They are out of ammunition.”

  One quick scan of the forest’s edge confirms the claim.

  “Dammit!” I swear.

  We came so far, accomplished so much, only to fail in the end. How could fate be so cruel? What have we done to deserve such an unfair punishment? But our own reprimand pales in comparison to the fate of the remaining clones. Now defenceless, they bravely stand their ground as the sentinels blast them with energy spheres.

  “We have to help them,” says Kara.

  I expect Jonn to refuse, but his lips curl into a smile.

  “I’ll handle it,” he says, stepping forward.

  “No,” says Kara, grabbing her father’s arm. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Jonn tries to protest, but his daughter won’t let him.

  “I’m the only one with a weapon,” she says, showing off her gloved hand. I’m taken aback by the sight of the alien weapon until I remember my girlfriend retrieved it from the only smart clone who reached the forest.

  “I’ll do it,” says Jonn. “Give me the weapon.”

  “It won’t fit,” says Kara. “Plus, you don’t even know how to use it.”

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  “No, you won’t,” she says and darts forward. Jonn tries to stop her, but she dodges him with ease and sprints across the battlefield, leaping over fallen bodies and metallic limbs with the grace of a gazelle.

  “Wait!” yells Jonn, but Kara ignores him. She rushes forward, blasting two sentinels in quick succession. The discharges tear their bodies to shreds, leaving mere fragments behind. Unaware of the new threat, the sentinels keep firing at the clones, determined to destroy every last one. But with each robot that falls, the efficacy of the slaughter diminishes. Soon, only a few scattered sentinels remain.

  Kara blasts an automaton, detaching its head from its body. Unable to function without it, the robot collapses. Finally aware of my girlfriend’s presence, the remaining sentinels focus their efforts on eliminating her, but as determined as they are, not a single energy sphere reaches her. She darts and dodges with the grace of a ballerina, all the while firing blasts of her own. A few miss, but most hit their targets. Sentinel after sentinel falls until only one remains. Taking her time, Kara dodges one final energy ball and fires a retaliating shot.

  The blast hits the robot square in the chest and detonates the ‘tal that stands within it. The explosion rips the automaton to shreds. Glowing orange, the metal shards expands like a firework. And, just like that, the battle is over.

  Silence settles upon the battlefield. Kara stands at its centre among a carpet of twisted metallic corpses. Scattered throughout are clones, but the bodies are mostly artificial in nature. Nearby, the forest glows eerily, illuminating the countless corpses that litter its edge. Not a single clone survived, yet they will forever live in the memories of the humans.

  I watch as my girlfriend makes her way across the battlefield. Now that the danger has passed, she takes her time. Minutes pass before she reaches us. When she finally does, no words are spoken. Jonn gives her a nod of approval. I open my arms and lure her to me. The embrace is tender, but the shivering of her body makes it awkward. I hold her until she grows still. Only once I release her does she finally speak.<
br />
  “It’s over,” she says, peering deep into my eyes. “We won.”

  “Actually,” says Jonn. “That’s not entirely accurate.”

  I don’t understand what he means until I hear it. It’s a low, distant rumble. It’s faint but unmistakable.

  “What is it?” I ask, but the tremors that reach us render the question useless. I focus on the far edge of the battlefield and see them.

  Sentinels.

  Memory 40

  S entinels. They number in the high hundreds. Marching in perfect synchronicity, they advance across the battlefield, trampling their fallen brothers without care or concern. Their chests shine bright, and their eyes are alive with yellow light. Their palms remain dark, but it’s only a matter of time before they come alive with murderous energy.

  We’re doomed.

  I glance at Kara. She stands motionless, shoulders slumped and a look of utter defeat plastered across her beautiful face.

  I look at Jonn. He stands erect, but he seems just as hopeless as his daughter.

  Victory is impossible. The only weapon we have is Kara’s glove gun, and there’s no way it will suffice to defeat such a vast army. As much as it pains me to admit it, it seems as though there’s only one thing left for us to do.

  “Should I open a portal?” I ask.

  My friends don’t respond, but I smell the defeat wafting off of them. As cowardly as it seems, abandoning the humans to their fate is the only logical thing to do. The past has been irreversibly altered, but there’s still hope for the future. Avalon remains at large, and my companions and I are the only ones capable of stopping her.

  I focus on my ring and press the small button that protrudes from it. A faint beep fills the air, indicating the tracking device has locked on to Avalon’s signal.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  No response.

  I twist the first triangle. I’m about to rotate the second one when Jonn speaks.

  “Look,” he says, pointing at something behind me. I turn to find a man. He advances through the trees, the soft glow they produce illuminating his face. He looks familiar, but it’s not until he reaches us that I finally recognize him.