The Individuality Gene

by G Sauvé

  I dive away just as a powerful scream erupts from the alien’s frail body. Unheard by the ear, it seeps into my mind and scrambles my brain. I’m about to lose touch with reality when it happens.

  The spinning mass of objects explodes. Speeding outward like pieces of shrapnel leaving a bomb’s shattered husk, the bobbles slam into the nearby furniture. Most shatter on impact, but a few survive the onslaught.

  The shriek lingers for a while. By the time it finally ceases, the aftermath of the explosion has become impossible to ignore. The floor has been chewed up nearly beyond recognition. The surrounding furniture is gone, sent flying by the blast. Only the giant computer screen remains, though its surface is now cracked, and large portions of it have ceased to function. Nonetheless, I can still make out the large numbers that make up its surface.

  Only six minutes remain. Desperate to save humanity, I ignore the sense of foreboding that dwells within me and approach A’lara’s shrivelled frame. She remains on her knees, her trembling body so twisted it barely looks alive.

  I crouch before her. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I know this is a difficult moment for you, but I need your help.”

  She looks at me, her big black eyes glistening with tears. The anger that once inhabited her is gone. Only sadness remains. Seeing her in such dire need of comfort breaks my heart, but I know there’s nothing I can do for her. Only time can heal her broken heart.

  “The countdown,” I say. “How do I stop it?”

  A’lara blinks, and a large tear rolls down her cheek.

  I’m sorry, she says. It can’t be stopped.

  Memory 80

  W hat are you talking about?” I ask. “There has to be a way to stop the self-destruct sequence.”

  A’lara shakes her head.

  I personally programmed the entire system, and I assure you there’s no way to interrupt the countdown.

  “That’s impossible. There must be a way.”

  I march up to the keyboard and press random buttons. Nothing happens, which isn’t surprising. What does take me by surprise is A’lara’s reaction.

  Stop! she yells, her voice filling my mind.

  I jump back and look at her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I designed the system to bypass the countdown procedure at the slightest sign of tampering. If we interfere in any way, the self-destruct sequence will be broadcast, and the humans will die.

  “Dammit!” I swear. I’m tempted to punch the screen in frustration, but that seems like something Jonn would do, so I refrain. I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do? Some sort of backdoor into the program?”

  A’lara shakes her head.

  The system is tamperproof.

  My hope evaporates, leaving only despair. I could blame A’lara or Avalon for the roles they played in the downfall of humanity, but the truth is neither of them bears the brunt of the guilt.

  I’m the true culprit. I let Avalon trick me. I’m also the one who insisted we remain behind to make sure R’ha was unharmed when the drones attacked us. It’s my fault he’s dead. Just like I'm responsible for not telling his wife and daughter of his terminal illness. Avalon may have initiated the events that led to this moment, but it was my choices that ensured events played out as they did.

  I’m responsible for humanity’s downfall.

  The revelation slams into me and knocks me to my knees. Now level with A’lara, I peer deep into her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. I’m not apologizing to her, but rather to all the innocents who died because of me. More will soon follow, though I sense I won’t be around to see it.

  Silence surrounds me. It caresses me as a mother would a child. The touch is warm, yet I recoil from it. I don’t deserve its love, its tenderness. I must be penalized for what I have done, punished for my misdeeds. Only pain can make up for—

  I have an idea, says A’lara before despair can steal me away. There may be a way for us to stop the self-destruct sequence.

  My heart skips a beat. Hope explodes from my chest and envelops me in its warm embrace.

  “What is it?” I ask, my voice so infused with excitement the words come out slurred. “What must we do?”

  We must destroy the sun’s power supply.

  My excitement wanes at the absurdity of the statement.

  “Excuse me?”

  The computer shares its power source with the sun, explains A’lara. If we destroy it, the computer will go offline.

  “I thought you said destroying the computer wouldn’t work.”

  I did, and that remains true. However, destroying the power source will cause the system to overload. This should interrupt the countdown sequence and keep the self-destruct signal from being broadcast. In theory, it should also fry the sentinels’ brains and cause them to go offline.

  “Are you sure?”

  No, admits A’lara, but it’s our only hope.

  She’s right. I glance at the countdown and realize we have just over four minutes left.

  “Where is the power source?”

  Beneath us.

  I look down, but all I see is the floor, destroyed nearly beyond recognition by the recent explosion.

  “I don’t understand.”

  I’ll show you.

  She approaches the screen, drops to the ground, and presses her hands to one of the only remaining undamaged areas. Nothing happens for a few seconds, then a portion of the floor opens, revealing a familiar yellow glow.

  Ros’tal crystals. Far more massive than any I have ever seen, the glowing ‘tals form five rows of five, bringing the total number to twenty-five. The sheer intensity of the brightness forces me to look away after just a few seconds.

  “That’s it?” I ask. It’s hard to believe a few handfuls of ‘tals would suffice to power an entire sun.

  Yes, says A’lara. By destroying these ‘tals, we will overload the computer and save the humans.

  “Can’t we just remove them?” I ask. Destroying such a powerful source of energy seems like a waste.

  A’lara shakes her head. If we remove them, it will trigger the failsafe, and the self-destruct signal will be broadcast. The only way to avoid that would be to remove all of them simultaneously.

  The odds of us succeeding are so slim they may as well be inexistent.

  Also, adds A’lara, failing to destroy the ‘tals would mean allowing the sentinels to remain operative. The only way to free the humans is to destroy the crystals.

  I guess that settles it.

  “How do we destroy them?” I ask.

  A’lara doesn’t answer. She merely stares at my right hand. I don’t understand why until I notice I’m still wearing the glove gun I stole from the dead Kra’lor.

  “Won’t shooting the ‘tals cause an explosion?” I ask.

  A’lara nods.

  “Then how…” I begin, but my voice trails off when the significance of my friend’s plan dawns on me.

  In order to save the humans, one of us will have to die.

  Memory 81

  T he ultimate sacrifice. Somehow, I always knew it would come to this. My adventure started with a vision of me plunging a dagger into my chest. It’s only fitting it ends with me giving my life for a cause I believe in.

  Time seems to slow as my mind struggles to produce a solution that doesn’t involve my death, but each second spent on such fruitlessness is a second wasted. I must destroy the ‘tals before—

  I will do it, says A’lara.

  “Excuse me?”

  I will sacrifice myself.

  “No way. You can’t.”

  I’m responsible for all that has happened. Without me, we wouldn’t be in this situation.

  I sigh.

  “It’s not your fault. I should have told you the truth about your father. Had I done so, none of this would have happened.”

  A’lara says nothing. Nor do I. I’m surprisingly calm given what I’m planning
on doing. Perhaps it’s because I’ve accepted my fate. Perhaps it’s because my brain has yet to accept the direness of the situation. Either way, I don’t plan on wasting any more time.

  “You should go,” I say. “Get as far away as you can. I will wait until the countdown is almost done before shooting.”

  She hesitates.

  Are you sure you want to do this?

  I nod.

  A’lara sighs and, shoulders slumped, turns to leave.

  “Wait!”

  She spins around, a hopeful look on her face.

  What is it?

  “I just remembered something.”

  It’s a memory. I was just about to step through the portal when my older self stopped me. He handed me a silver disc and told me to activate it if our plan failed. Well, it’s safe to say things didn’t turn out as expected.

  I reach into my pocket and pull out the metallic coin. The symbol that adorns it is identical to the one that’s on my ring.

  What is it? asks A’lara.

  “I don’t know,” I admit. But I know how to find out. I twist the triangles until their tips intersect. A soft clicking sound fills the air, and a shockwave of displaced air erupts from the device. It expands and forms a sphere of shimmering air around me. Beyond it, the world has stopped. Even A’lara stands immobile, frozen in place.

  “What the hell?” I mutter. I’m about to step out of the bubble when a hologram flickers to life before me.

  It’s Old Will.

  “If you’re watching this, it means you failed. A’lara activated the self-destruct sequence, and you realized the only way to save humanity is to sacrifice yourself.” He sighs. “I would like to tell you I have a plan that doesn’t involve you dying, but I don’t. I reset countless times and tried hundreds of different approaches, but in the end, there was only one way to save both humanity and your companions. You have to die.”

  A heavy silence follows the revelation.

  Why didn’t he warn me? Why didn’t he tell me A’lara was evil? But it’s not the manipulations that anger me. It’s the fact that he lied. He promised I would one day be reunited with my parents, yet my forthcoming sacrifice will make that impossible. Unless…

  What if he didn’t lie? I’m not religious, but I believe in the afterlife. What if that’s where I’m destined to meet my parents? The prospect of them being dead should sadden me, but it has the inverse effect. The thought of being reunited with them fills me with glee. I’m almost jubilant at the prospect of sacrificing myself. Almost.

  “I apologize for manipulating you,” says the hologram, “but it was the only way. I hope you can forgive me, but more importantly, I hope you will make the right choice. The time disruptor”—that must be the name of the device—“will provide you with ample time to process what you just learned. It comes equipped with a video recording feature. I suggest you use it to say farewell to your friends.” He pauses. “I know you’re still angry at Jonn and Kara, but please understand they never meant to hurt you. Jonn was trying to protect you. As for Kara, she doesn’t even know she’s a robot. She thinks she’s a normal teenager. But more importantly, she truly does love you. I hope you can forgive her before it’s too late.”

  He gives me a few moments to let the news sink in.

  “The time bubble will last one hour. To begin the recording, simply speak the words ‘start recording.’ To conclude it, say ‘end recording.’ Your message will be stored within the time disruptor and will automatically play once it’s activated. Give it to A’lara, along with your ring. She will make sure your friends get them.”

  He gives me an encouraging smile.

  “Good luck. Make me proud.”

  The hologram vanishes.

  I don’t react for the longest time. It’s not until I notice the countdown—the numbers are frozen at “04:29:17”—that I realize there’s but one thing left for me to do.

  I take a deep breath, pick a spot at random, and focusing on it, say, “Start recording."

  Now that my fate is sealed, my friends’ betrayal no longer matters. Jonn lied to me. So what? Kara isn’t real. Who cares? She loves me, and that’s all that matters. Saying farewell isn’t easy, so I start at the beginning, explaining everything that happened. I skip over the part about Kara being a robot but go into detail about my return to my time and my encounter with my older self. I also explain how A’lara has been working with Avalon, but make it clear she’s no longer our enemy. Once that’s done, I take a moment to compose myself before attacking the most important—and most difficult—part of the entire speech.

  Saying goodbye.

  “Jonn,” I say, picturing the grey-haired soldier’s face. “I don’t blame you for lying to me. The truth is, we’ve never been very close, yet I have grown to think of you as the father I never had. I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Goodbye, my friend.”

  I take a moment to compose myself. Ignoring the tears that fill my eyes, I picture Kara’s beautiful face and start speaking.

  “Kara. I don’t care what you are. I love you. I always have, and I always will. Thank you for being the most important thing in my life. Goodbye.”

  I’m about to end of the recording when I think of something else I want to say.

  “Hopefully, my sacrifice will allow the humans to evolve and history to return to its proper course, but Avalon is still out there. It’s up to you to stop her. Please don’t let my death be in vain. Good luck.”

  I smile one last time, then end the recording.

  I spend the next few minutes in silence. Once I’m certain there’s nothing left for me to say, I take a deep breath, steel myself, and step out of the time bubble.

  The world starts moving once more. The countdown advances, making each second a precious commodity. A’lara stares at me, perplexed.

  What happened? she asks.

  “There’s no time to explain,” I say. “I need you to do me a favour. It’s of the utmost importance. Can I trust you?”

  A’lara nods.

  “I came here with two friends. An angry man named Jonn and a beautiful young woman named Kara. Can you find them and make sure they get these items?”

  I remove my ring and hand it over, along with the time disruptor.

  A’lara stares at them, perplexed.

  I don’t understand, she says. I thought you had a solution to avoid—

  “I was wrong.”

  There’s a short silence, but I don’t allow it to linger for more than a few seconds.

  “I need you to do something else for me,” I say. “Something very important.”

  Anything.

  I smile.

  “Use your influence to educate the Kra’lors. Teach them to respect the humans and treat them as equals. Make sure nothing like this ever happens again. Can you do that for me?”

  She nods.

  “You should go,” I say. “Time is running out.”

  Another nod.

  I’m sorry for what I have done.

  “It’s not your fault. Now go, before it’s too late.”

  She hurries to the far side of the dwelling. I look up just as she hops onto the teleportation dais. Moments later, she’s gone.

  I’m all alone.

  I look at the timer. A little over three minutes now remain. Hands trembling, I adjust the glove’s power settings to ensure the blast ignites every last one of the crystals. The last thing I want is for my sacrifice to be in vain.

  I’m ready. One shot is all it will take. Now that the fateful moment has arrived, I find myself doubting my resolve. But it’s too late to turn back. I must do it. For Jonn. For Kara. For the fate of all mankind. My only regret is that I’m abandoning my friends, saddling them with the burden of defeating Avalon on their own. But deep down I know it’s a foolish thought. They’re Jonn and Kara. They can handle anything.

  I wait for the countdown to reach two minutes, then aim the glove at the glowing orifice that lies before me. It takes a
while, but I finally muster the courage to pull my trembling fingers back. Within moments, the firing mechanism will activate, and my life will come to an end.

  Memory 82

  W AIT! The outburst echoes throughout my mind, interrupting me moments before a blast of yellow energy erupts from my gloved palm. I curl my fingers, only barely avoiding the activation of the firing mechanism.

  I look up to find A’lara hurrying toward me.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Why did you come back?”

  I was wrong. You can’t destroy the sun.

  I stare at her for a long time, unsure how to react. I’m about to inquire as to her sudden change of mind when I notice something.

  Her hands are empty.

  That can only mean one thing.

  “Nice try,” I say. I aim the glove at her and fire. The blast of energy hits her in the leg, and she crumbles, shrieking in silent agony.

  She writhes for a moment before calming down and looking at me.

  How did you know? she asks.

  “I’ve fallen for your tricks often enough to know when I’m being manipulated.”

  You finally learned your lesson, she says as she begins to transform. Within seconds, my friend’s alien frame has given way to a far more familiar one.

  Avalon.

  I should be angry, annoyed that she tried to stop me, but the truth is I’m not. The only reason I was reticent to sacrifice myself was that I didn’t want to burden my friends with the responsibly of taking her down. Now that she’s here, I can kill two birds with one stone. My only regret is that Jonn and Kara will spend their entire lives wondering what happened to her. But it’s a small price to pay for the guaranteed well-being of all that is good in this world.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” I say.

  “What are you going to do?” asks Avalon. “Shoot me?”

  I chuckle.

  “Not exactly,” I say as I look up. Ignoring the slight blurring of my vision, I aim my weapon at the teleportation dais and fire. The platform explodes in a fiery ball of yellow light and shrapnel, leaving a charred crater where the device once stood. Now that it’s gone, there’s no way for Avalon to escape. Or so I think until I remember one very important detail.